CHAPTER LXIV.
THE VAMPIRE IN THE MOONLIGHT.--THE FALSE FRIEND.
Part of the distance being accomplished towards the old ruins, TomEccles began to feel that what he had undertaken was not altogether suchchild's-play as he had at first imagined it to be. Somehow or another,with a singular and uncomfortable sort of distinctness, there cameacross his mind every story that he had remembered of the wild and thewonderful. All the long-since forgotten tales of superstition that inearly childhood he had learned, came now back upon him, suggesting tohis mind a thousand uncomfortable fancies of the strangest description.
It was not likely that when once a man, under such circumstances, gotinto such a frame of mind, he would readily get out of it again, whilehe continued surrounded by such scenes as had first called them intoexistence.
No doubt, had he turned about, and faced the inn again instead of theold ruins he would soon have shaken off these "thick coming fancies;"but such a result was no to be expected, so long as he kept on towardsthe dismal place he had pledged himself to reach.
As he traversed meadow after meadow he began to ask himself somequestions which he found that he could not answer exactly in aconsolatory manner, under the present state of things.
Among these question was the very pertinent one of,--"It's no argumentagainst vampyres, because I don't see the use of 'em--is it?" This hewas compelled to answer as he had put it; and when, in addition, hebegan to recollect that, without the shadow of a doubt, Sir FrancisVarney the supposed vampyre, had been chased across the fields to thatvery ruin whither he was bound, and had then and there disappeared, hecertainly found himself in decidedly uncomfortable and most unpromisingsituation.
"No," he said, "no. Hang it, I won't go back now, to be made thelaughing-stock of the whole town, which I should be. Come what may ofit, I will go on as I have commenced; so I shall put on as stout a heartas I can."
Then, having come to this resolve, he strove might and main to banishfrom his mind those disagreeable reminiscences that had been oppressinghim, to turn his attention to subjects of a different complexion.
During the progress of making this endeavour, which was rather futile,he came within sight of the ruins. Then he slackened his pace a little,telling himself, with a pardonable self-deceit, that it was common,ordinary caution only, which induced him to do so, and nothing at all inthe shape of fear.
"Time enough," he remarked, "to be afraid, when I see anything to beafraid of, which I don't see as yet. So, as all's right, I may as wellput a good face upon the matter."
He tried to whistle a tune, but it turned out only a melancholy failure;so he gave that up in despair, and walked on until he got within ahundred yards, or thereabouts, of the old ruins.
He thus proceeded, and bending his ear close to the ground, he listenedattentively for several minutes. Somehow, he fancied that a strange,murmuring sound came to his ears; but he was not quite sure that itproceeded from the ruins, because it was just that sort of sound thatmight come from a long way off, being mellowed by distance, although,perhaps, loud enough at its source.
"Well, well," he whispered to himself, "it don't matter much, after all.Go I must, and hide the handkerchiefs somewhere, or else be laughed at,besides losing my wages. The former I don't like, and the latter Icannot afford."
Thus clinching the matter by such knock-down arguments, he walked onuntil he was almost within the very shadow of the ruins, and, probably,it was at this juncture that his footsteps may have been heard byMarchdale and Sir Francis Varney.
Then he paused again; but all was profoundly still, and he began tothink that the strange sort of murmuring noise which he had heard musthave come from far off and not at all from any person or persons withinthe ruins.
"Let me see," he said to himself; "I have five handkerchiefs to hideamong the old ruins somewhere, and the sooner I do so the better,because then I will get away; for, as regards staying here to watch,Heaven knows how long, for Sir Francis Varney, I don't intend to do it,upon second thoughts and second thoughts, they say, are generally best."
With the most careful footsteps now, as if he were treading upon somefragile substance, which he feared to injure, he advanced until he wasfairly within the precincts of the ancient place, which now bore so illa reputation.
He then made to himself much the same remark that Sir Francis Varney hadmade to Marchdale, with respect to the brightening up of the sky, inconsequence of its being near the time for the moon to rise from thehorizon, and he saw more clearly around him, although he could not findany good place to hide the handkerchiefs in.
"I must and will," he said, "hide them securely; for it would, indeed,be remarkably unpleasant, after coming here and winning my wages, tohave the proofs that I had done so taken away by some chance visitor tothe place."
He at length saw a tolerably large stone, which stood, in a slantposition, up against one of the walls. Its size attracted him. Hethought, if his strength was sufficient to move it, that it would be agood thing to do so, and to place the handkerchiefs beneath it; for, atall events, it was so heavy that it could not be kicked aside, and noone, without some sort of motive to do so, beyond the mere love oflabour, would set about moving it from its position.
"I may go further and fare worse," he said to himself; "so here shallall the handkerchiefs lie, to afford a proof that I have been here."
He packed them into a small compass, and then stooped to roll aside theheavy stone, when, at the moment, before he could apply his strength tothat purpose, he heard some one, in his immediate neighbourhood,say,--"Hist!"
This was so sudden, and so utterly unexpected, that he not only ceasedhis exertions to move the stone, but he nearly fell down in hissurprise.
"Hist--hist!" said the voice again.
"What--what," gasped Tom Eccles--"what are you?"--"Hush--hush--hush!"
The perspiration broke out upon his brow, and he leaned against the wallfor support, as he managed to say, faintly,--
"Well, hush--what then?"--"Hist!"
"Well, I hear you. Where are you?"
"Here at hand. Who are you?"
"Tom Eccles. Who are you?"--"A friend. Have you seen anything?"
"No; I wish I could. I should like to see you if I could."--"I'mcoming."
There was a slow and cautious footstep, and Marchdale advanced to whereTom Eccles was standing.
"Come, now," said the latter, when he saw the dusky-looking formstalking towards him; "till I know you better, I'll be obliged to you tokeep off. I am well armed. Keep your distance, be you friend or foe."
"Armed!" exclaimed Marchdale, and he at once paused.--"Yes, I am."
"But I am a friend. I have no sort of objection frankly to tell you myerrand. I am a friend of the Bannerworth family, and have kept watchhere now for two nights, in the hopes of meeting with Varney, thevampyre."
"The deuce you have: and pray what may your name be?"--"Marchdale."
"If you be Mr. Marchdale, I know you by sight: for I have seen you withMr. Henry Bannerworth several times. Come out from among the shadows,and let us have a look at you; but, till you do, don't come within arm'slength of me. I am not naturally suspicious; but we cannot be toocareful."
"Oh! certainly--certainly. The silver edge of the moon is now justpeeping up from the east, and you will be able to see me well, if youstep from the shadow of the wall by which you now are."
This was a reasonable enough proposition, and Tom Eccles at once accededto it, by stepping out boldly into the partial moonlight, which nowbegan to fall upon the open meadows, tinting the grass with a silveryrefulgence, and rendering even minute objects visible. The moment he sawMarchdale he knew him, and, advancing frankly to him, he said,--
"I know you, sir, well."
"And what brings you here?"--"A wager for one thing, and a wish to seethe vampyre for another."
"Indeed!"--"Yes; I must own I have such a wish, along with a stillstronger one, to capture him, if possible; and, as there are now two ofus, why
may we not do it?"
"As for capturing him," said Marchdale, "I should prefer shootinghim."--"You would?"
"I would, indeed. I have seen him once shot down, and he is now, I haveno doubt, as well as ever. What were you doing with that huge stone Isaw you bending over?"--"I have some handkerchiefs to hide here, as aproof that I have to-night really been to this place."
"Oh, I will show you a better spot, where there is a crevice in whichyou can place them with perfect safety. Will you walk with me into theruins?"--"Willingly."
"It's odd enough," remarked Marchdale, after he had shown Tom Eccleswhere to hide the handkerchiefs, "that you and I should both be hereupon so similar an errand."--"I'm very glad of it. It robs the place ofits gloom, and makes it ten times more endurable than it otherwise wouldbe. What do you propose to do if you see the vampyre?"
"I shall try a pistol bullet on him. You say you are armed?"--"Yes."
"With pistols?"--"One. Here it is."
"A huge weapon; loaded well, of course?"--"Oh, yes, I can depend uponit; but I did not intend to use it, unless assailed."
"'Tis well. What is that?"--"What--what?"
"Don't you see anything there? Come farther back. Look--look. At thecorner of that wall there I am certain there is the flutter of a humangarment."--"There is--there is."
"Hush! Keep close. It must be the vampyre."--"Give me my pistol. Whatare you doing with it?"
"Only ramming down the charge more firmly for you. Take it. If that beVarney the vampyre, I shall challenge him to surrender the moment heappears; and if he does not, I will fire upon him, and do you do solikewise."--"Well, I--I don't know."
"You have scruples?"--"I certainly have."
"Well, well--don't you fire, then, but leave it to me. There;look--look. Now have you any doubt? There he goes; in his cloak. Itis--it is----"--"Varney, by Heavens!" cried Tom Eccles.
"Surrender!" shouted Marchdale.
At the instant Sir Francis Varney sprang forward, and made off at arapid pace across the meadows.
"Fire after him--fire!" cried Marchdale, "or he will escape. My pistolhas missed fire. He will be off."
On the impulse of the moment, and thus urged by the voice and thegesture of his companion, Tom Eccles took aim as well as he could, andfired after the retreating form of Sir Francis Varney. His consciencesmote him as he heard the report and saw the flash of the large pistolamid the half sort of darkness that was still around.
The effect of the shot was then to him painfully apparent. He saw Varneystop instantly; then make a vain attempt to stagger forward a little,and finally fall heavily to the earth, with all the appearance of onekilled upon the spot.
"You have hit him," said Marchdale--"you have hit him. Bravo!"--"Ihave--hit him."
"Yes, a capital shot, by Jove!"--"I am very sorry."
"Sorry! sorry for ridding the world of such a being! What was in yourpistol?"--"A couple of slugs."
"Well, they have made a lodgment in him, that's quite clear. Let's go upand finish him at once."--"He seems finished."
"I beg your pardon there. When the moonbeams fall upon him he'll get upand walk away as if nothing was the matter."--"Will he?" cried Tom, withanimation--"will he?"
"Certainly he will."--"Thank God for that. Now, hark you, Mr. Marchdale:I should not have fired if you had not at the moment urged me to do so.Now, I shall stay and see if the effect which you talk of will ensue;and although it may convince me that he is a vampyre, and that there aresuch things, he may go off, scot free, for me."
"Go off?"--"Yes; I don't want to have even a vampyre's blood upon myhands."
"You are exceedingly delicate."--"Perhaps I am; it's my way, though. Ihave shot him--not you, mind; so, in a manner of speaking, he belongs tome. Now, mark, me: I won't have him touched any more to-night, unlessyou think there's a chance of making a prisoner of him withoutviolence."
"There he lies; you can go and make a prisoner of him at once, dead ashe is; and if you take him out of the moonlight--"
"I understand; he won't recover."--"Certainly not."
"But, as I want him to recover, that don't suit me."--"Well, I cannotbut honour your scruples, although I do not actually share in them; butI promise you that, since such is your wish, I will take no stepsagainst the vampyre; but let us come up to him and see if he be reallydead, or only badly wounded."
Tom Eccles hang back a little from this proposal; but, upon being urgedagain by Marchdale, and told that he need not go closer than he chose,he consented, and the two of them approached the prostrate form of SirFrancis Varney, which lay upon its face in the faint moonlight, whicheach moment was gathering strength and power.
"He lies upon his face," said Marchdale. "Will you go and turn himover?"--"Who--I? God forbid I should touch him."
"Well--well, I will. Come on."
They halted within a couple of yards of the body. Tom Eccles would notgo a step farther; so Marchdale advanced alone, and pretended to be,with great repugnance, examining for the wound.
"He is quite dead," he said; "but I cannot see the hurt."--"I think heturned his head as I fired."
"Did he? Let us see."
Marchdale lifted up the head, and disclosed such a mass ofclotted-looking blood, that Tom Eccles at once took to his heels, norstopped until he was nearly as far off as the ruins. Marchdale followedhim more slowly, and when he came up to him, he said,--
"The slugs have taken effect on his face."--"I know it--I know it. Don'ttell me."
"He looks horrible."--"And I am a murderer."
"Psha! You look upon this matter too seriously. Think of who and what hewas, and then you will soon acquit yourself of being open to any suchcharge."--"I am bewildered, Mr. Marchdale, and cannot now know whetherhe be a vampyre or not. If he be not, I have murdered, mostunjustifiably, a fellow-creature."
"Well, but if he be?"--"Why, even then I do not know but that I ought toconsider myself as guilty. He is one of God's creatures if he were tentimes a vampyre."
"Well, you really do take a serious view of the affair."--"Not moreserious than it deserves."
"And what do you mean to do?"--"I shall remain here to await the resultof what you tell me will ensue, if he be a real vampire. Even now themoonbeams are full upon him, and each moment increasing in intensity.Think you he will recover?"
"I do indeed."--"Then here will I wait."
"Since that is you resolve, I will keep you company. We shall easilyfind some old stone in the ruins which will serve us for a seat, andthere at leisure we can keep our eyes upon the dead body, and be able toobserve if it make the least movement."
This plan was adopted, and they sat down just within the ruins, but insuch a place that they had a full view of the dead body, as it appearedto be, of Sir Francis Varney, upon which the sweet moonbeams shone fulland clear.
Tom Eccles related how he was incited to come upon his expedition, buthe might have spared himself that trouble, as Marchdale had been in aretired corner of the inn parlour before he came to his appointment withVarney, and heard the business for the most part proposed.
Half-an-hour, certainly not more, might have elapsed; when suddenly TomEccles uttered an exclamation, partly of surprise and partly ofterror,--
"He moves; he moves!" he cried. "Look at the vampyre's body."
Marchdale affected to look with an all-absorbing interest, and there wasSir Francis Varney, raising slowly one arm with the hand outstretchedtowards the moon, as if invoking that luminary to shed more of its beamsupon him. Then the body moved slowly, like some one writhing in pain,and yet unable to move from the spot on which it lay. From the head tothe foot, the whole frame seemed to be convulsed, and now and then asthe ghastly object seemed to be gathering more strength, the limbs werethrown out with a rapid and a frightful looking violence.
It was truly to one, who might look upon it as a reality and no juggle,a frightful sight to see, and although Marchdale, of course, tolerablywell preserved his equanimity, only now and then, for appearance sa
ke,affecting to be wonderfully shocked, poor Tom Eccles was in such a stateof horror and fright that he could not, if he would, have flown from thespot, so fascinated was he by the horrible spectacle.
This was a state of things which continued for many minutes, and thenthe body showed evident symptoms of so much returning animation, that itwas about to rise from his gory bed and mingle once again with theliving.
"Behold!" said Marchdale--"behold!"--"Heaven have mercy upon us!"
"It is as I said; the beams of the moon have revived the vampyre. Youperceive now that there can be no doubt."--"Yes, yes, I see him; I seehim."
Sir Francis Varney now, as if with a great struggle, rose to his feet,and looked up at the bright moon for some moments with such an air andmanner that it would not have required any very great amount ofimagination to conceive that he was returning to it some sort ofthanksgiving for the good that it had done to him.
He then seemed for some moments in a state of considerable indecision asto which way he should proceed. He turned round several times. Then headvanced a step or two towards the house, but apparently his resolutionchanged again, and casting his eyes upon the ruins, he at once madetowards them.
This was too much for the philosophy as well as for the courage of TomEccles. It was all very well to look on at some distance, and observethe wonderful and inexplicable proceedings of the vampyre; but when heshowed symptoms of making a nearer acquaintance, it was not to be borne.
"Why, he's coming here," said Tom.--"He seems so indeed," remarkedMarchdale.
"Do you mean to stay?"--"I think I shall."
"You do, do you?"--"Yes, I should much like to question him, and as weare two to one I think we really can have nothing to fear."
"Do you? I'm altogether of a different opinion. A man who has more livesthan a cat don't much mind at what odds he fights. You may stay if youlike."--"You do not mean to say that you will desert me?"
"I don't see a bit how you call it deserting you; if we had come outtogether on this adventure, I would have stayed it out with you; but aswe came separate and independent, we may as well go back so."--"Well,but--"
"Good morning?" cried Tom, and he at once took to his heels towards thetown, without staying to pay any attention to the remonstrances ofMarchdale, who called after him in vain.
Sir Francis Varney, probably, had Tom Eccles not gone off so rapidly,would have yet taken another thought, and gone in another direction thanthat which led him to the ruins, and Tom, if he had had his senses fullyabout him, as well as all his powers of perception, would have seen thatthe progress of the vampyre was very slow, while he continued toconverse with Marchdale, and that it was only when he went off at goodspeed that Sir Francis Varney likewise thought it prudent to do so.
"Is he much terrified?" said Varney, as he came up to Marchdale.--"Yes,most completely."
"This then, will make a good story in the town."--"It will, indeed, andnot a little enhance your reputation."
"Well, well; it don't much matter now; but if by terrifying people I canpurchase for myself anything like immunity for the past, I shall besatisfied."--"I think you may now safely reckon that you have done so.This man who has fled with so much precipitation, had courage."
"Unquestionably."--"Or else he would have shrunk from coming here atall."
"True, but his courage and presence arose from his strong doubts as tothe existence of such beings as vampyres."--"Yes, and now that he isconvinced, his bravery has evaporated along with his doubts; and such atale as he has now to tell, will be found sufficient to convert even themost sceptical in the town."
"I hope so."--"And yet it cannot much avail you."
"Not personally, but I must confess that I am not dead to all humanopinions, and I feel some desire of revenge against those dastards whoby hundreds have hunted me, burnt down my mansion, and sought mydestruction."--"That I do not wonder at."
"I would fain leave among them a legacy of fear. Such fear as shallhaunt them and their children for years to come. I would wish that thename of Varney, the vampire, should be a sound of terror forgenerations."--"It will be so."
"It shall."--"And now, then, for a consideration of what is to be donewith our prisoner. What is your resolve upon that point?"
"I have considered it while I was lying upon yon green sward waiting forthe friendly moonbeams to fall upon my face, and it seems to me thatthere is no sort of resource but to----"--"Kill him?"
"No, no."--"What then?"
"To set him free."--"Nay, have you considered the immense hazard ofdoing so? Think again; I pray you think again. I am decidedly of opinionthat he more than suspects who are his enemies; and, in that case, youknow what consequences would ensue; besides, have we not enough alreadyto encounter? Why should we add another young, bold, determined spiritto the band which is already arrayed against us?"
"You talk in vain, Marchdale; I know to what it all tends; you have astrong desire for the death of this young man."--"No; there you wrongme. I have no desire for his death, for its own sake; but, where greatinterests are at stake, there must be sacrifices made."
"So there must; therefore, I will make a sacrifice, and let this youngprisoner free from his dungeon."--"If such be your determination, I knowwell it is useless to combat with it. When do you purpose giving him hisfreedom?"
"I will not act so heedlessly as that your principles of caution shallblame me. I will attempt to get from him some promise that he will notmake himself an active instrument against me. Perchance, too, asBannerworth Hall, which he is sure to visit, wears such an air ofdesertion, I may be able to persuade him that the Bannerworth family, aswell as his uncle, have left this part of the country altogether; sothat, without making any inquiry for them about the neighbourhood, hemay be induced to leave at once."--"That would be well."
"Good; your prudence approves of the plan, and therefore it shall bedone."--"I am rather inclined to think," said Marchdale, with a slighttone of sarcasm, "that if my prudence did not approve of the plan, itwould still be done."
"Most probably," said Varney, calmly.--"Will you release him to-night?"
"It is morning, now, and soon the soft grey light of day will tint theeast. I do not think I will release him till sunset again now. Has heprovision to last him until then?"--"He has."
"Well, then, two hours after sunset I will come here and release himfrom his weary bondage, and now I must go to find some place in which tohide my proscribed head. As for Bannerworth Hall, I will yet have it inmy power; I have sworn to do so, I will keep my oath."--"Theaccomplishment of our purpose, I regret to say, seems as far off asever."
"Not so--not so. As I before remarked, we must disappear, for a time, soas to lull suspicion. There will then arise a period when BannerworthHall will neither be watched, as it is now, nor will it be inhabited,--aperiod before the Bannerworth family has made up its mind to go back toit, and when long watching without a result has become too tiresome tobe continued at all; then we can at once pursue our object."--"Be itso."
"And now, Marchdale, I want more money."--"More money!"
"Yes; you know well that I have had large demands of late."--"But Icertainly had an impression that you were possessed, by the death ofsome one, with very ample means."
"Yes, but there is a means by which all is taken from me. I have no realresources but what are rapidly used up, so I must come upon youagain."--"I have already completely crippled myself as regards moneymatters in this enterprise, and I do certainly hope that the fruits willnot be far distant. If they be much longer delayed, I shall really notknow what to do. However, come to the lodge where you have been staying,and then I will give you, to the extent of my ability, whatever sum youthink your present exigencies require."
"Come on, then, at once. I would certainly, of course, rather leave thisplace now, before daybreak. Come on, I say, come on."
Sir Francis Varney and Marchdale walked for some time in silence acrossthe meadows. It was evident that there was not between these associatest
he very best of feelings. Marchdale was always smarting under anassumption of authority over him, on the part of Sir Francis Varney,while the latter scarcely cared to conceal any portion of the contemptwith which he regarded his hypocritical companion.
Some very strong band of union, indeed, must surely bind these twostrange persons together! It must be something of a more than commonnature which induces Marchdale not only to obey the behests of hismysterious companion, but to supply him so readily with money as weperceive he promises to do.
And, as regards Varney, the vampyre, he, too, must have some greatobject in view to induce him to run such a world of risk, and take somuch trouble as he was doing with the Bannerworth family.
What his object is, and what is the object of Marchdale, will, now thatwe have progressed so far in our story, soon appear, and then much thatis perfectly inexplicable, will become clear and distinct, and we shallfind that some strong human motives are at the bottom of it all.
Varney the Vampire; Or, the Feast of Blood Page 63
