Varney the Vampire; Or, the Feast of Blood

by Thomas Preskett Prest

  CHAPTER LXXIII.

  THE VISIT OF THE VAMPIRE.--THE GENERAL MEETING.

  The mysterious friend of Mr. Chillingworth finished his narrative, andthen the doctor said to him,--

  "And that, then, is the real cause why you, a man evidently far abovethe position of life which is usually that of those who occupy thedreadful post of executioner, came to accept of it."--"The real reason,sir. I considered, too, that in holding such a humiliating situationthat I was justly served for the barbarity of which I had been guilty;for what can be a greater act of cruelty than to squander, as I did, inthe pursuit of mad excitement, those means which should have rendered myhome happy, and conduced to the welfare of those who were dependant uponme?"

  "I do not mean to say that your self-reproaches are unjust altogether,but--What noise is that? do you hear anything?"--

  "Yes--yes."

  "What do you take it to be?"--"It seemed like the footsteps of a numberof persons, and it evidently approaches nearer and nearer. I know notwhat to think."

  "Shall I tell you?" said a deep-toned voice, and some one, through theorifice in the back of the summer-house, which, it will be recollected,sustained some damage at the time that Varney escaped from it, laid ahand upon Mr. Chillingworth's shoulder. "God bless me!" exclaimed thedoctor; "who's that?" and he sprang from his seat with the greatestperturbation in the world.

  "Varney, the vampyre!" added the voice, and then both the doctor and hiscompanion recognised it, and saw the strange, haggard features, that nowthey knew so well, confronting them. There was a pause of surprise, fora moment or two, on the part of the doctor, and then he said, "SirFrancis Varney, what brings you here? I conjure you to tell me, in thename of common justice and common feeling, what brings you to this houseso frequently? You have dispossessed the family, whose property it is,of it, and you have caused great confusion and dismay over a wholecounty. I implore you now, not in the language of menace or as an enemy,but as the advocate of the oppressed, and one who desires to see justicedone to all, to tell me what it is you require."

  "There is no time now for explanation," said Varney, "if explanationswere my full and free intent. You wished to know what noise was that youheard?"

  "I did; can you inform me?"--"I can. The wild and lawless mob which youand your friends first induced to interfere in affairs far beyond theiror your control, are now flushed with the desire of riot and of plunder.The noise you hear is that of their advancing footsteps; they come todestroy Bannerworth Hall."

  "Can that be possible? The Bannerworth family are the sufferers from allthat has happened, and not the inflictors of suffering."--"Ay, be it so;but he who once raises a mob has raised an evil spirit, which, in themajority of cases, it requires a far more potent spell than he is masterof to quell again."

  "It is so. That is a melancholy truth; but you address me, Sir FrancisVarney, as if I led on the mob, when in reality I have done all that layin my power, from the very first moment of their rising on account ofthis affair, which, in the first instance, was your work, to preventthem from proceeding to acts of violence."--"It may be so; but if youhave now any regard for your own safety you will quit this place. Itwill too soon become the scene of a bloody contention. A large party ofdragoons are even now by another route coming towards it, and it will betheir duty to resist the aggressions of the mob; then should the rioterspersevere, you can guess the result."--"I can, indeed."

  "Retire then while you may, and against the bad deeds of Sir FrancisVarney at all events place some of his good ones, that he may not seemwholly without one redeeming trait."--"I am not accustomed," said thedoctor, "to paint the devil blacker than he really is; but yet the cruelpersecutions that the Bannerworth family have endured call aloud forjustice. You still, with a perseverance which shows you regardless ofwhat others suffer so that you compass your own ends, hover round a spotwhich you have rendered desolate."

  "Hark, sir; do you not hear the tramp of horses' feet?"--"I do."

  The noise made by the feet of the insurgents was now almost drowned inthe louder and more rapid tramp of the horses' feet of the advancingdragoons, and, in a few moments more, Sir Francis Varney waved his arm,exclaiming,--

  "They are here. Will you not consult your safety by flight?"--"No," saidMr. Chillingworth's companion; "we prefer remaining here at the riskeven of whatever danger may accrue to us."

  "Fools, would you die in a chance _melee_ between an infuriated populaceand soldiery?"--"Do not leave," whispered the ex-hangman to Mr.Chillingworth; "do not leave, I pray you. He only wants to have the Hallto himself."

  There could be no doubt now of the immediate appearance of the cavalry,and, before Sir Francis Varney could utter another word, a couple of theforemost of the soldiers cleared the garden fence at a part where it waslow, and alighted not many feet from the summer-house in which thisshort colloquy was taking place. Sir Francis Varney uttered a bitteroath, and immediately disappeared in the gloom.

  "What shall we do?" said the hangman.--"You can do what you like, but Ishall avow my presence to the military, and claim to be on their side inthe approaching contest, if it should come to one, which I sincerelyhope it will not."

  The military detachment consisted of about twenty-five dragoons, who nowwere all in the gardens. An order was given by the officer in commandfor them to dismount, which was at once obeyed, and the horses werefastened by their bridles to the various trees with which the placeabounded.

  "They are going to oppose the mob on foot, with their carbines," saidthe hangman; "there will be sad work here I am afraid."--"Well, at allevents," said Mr. Chillingworth, "I shall decline acting the part of aspy here any longer; so here goes."

  "Hilloa! a friend,--a friend here, in the summer-house!"

  "Make it two friends," cried the hangman, "if you please, while you areabout it."

  A couple of the dragoons immediately appeared, and the doctor, with hiscompanion, were marched, as prisoners, before the officer in command.

  "What do you do here?" he said; "I was informed that the Hall wasdeserted. Here, orderly, where is Mr. Adamson, the magistrate, who camewith me?"--"Close at hand sir, and he says he's not well."

  "Well, or ill, he must come here, and do something with these people."

  A magistrate of the district who had accompanied the troops, and beenaccommodated with a seat behind one of the dragoons, which seemed verymuch to have disagreed with him, for he was as pale as death, nowstepped forward.

  "You know me, Mr. Adamson?" said the doctor; "I am Mr.Chillingworth."--"Oh! yes; Lord bless you! how came you here?"

  "Never mind that just now; you can vouch for my having no connectionwith the rioters."--"Oh! dear, yes; certainly. This is a respectablegentleman, Captain Richardson, and a personal friend of mine."

  "Oh! very good."--"And I," said the doctor's companion, "am likewise arespectable and useful member of society, and a great friend of Mr.Chillingworth."

  "Well, gentlemen," said the captain in command, "you may remain here, ifyou like, and take the chances, or you may leave."

  They intimated that they preferred remaining, and, almost at the momentthat they did so, a loud shout from many throats announced the nearapproach of the mob.--"Now, Mr. Magistrate, if you please," said theofficer; "you will be so good as to tell the mob that I am here with mytroop, under your orders, and strongly advise them to be off while theycan, with whole skins, for if they persevere in attacking the place, wemust persevere in defending it; and, if they have half a grain of senseamong them, they can surely guess what the result of that will be."

  "I will do the best I can, as Heaven is, my judge," said the magistrate,"to produce a peaceable recall,--more no man can do."

  "Hurrah! hurrah!"' shouted the mob, "down with the Vampyre! down withthe Hall!" and then one, more candid than his fellows, shouted,--"Downwith everything and everybody!"

  "Ah!" remarked the officer; "that fellow now knows what he came about."

  A great number of torches and links were ligh
ted by the mob, but themoment the glare of light fell upon the helmets and accoutrements of themilitary, there was a pause of consternation on the part of themultitude, and Mr. Adamson, urged on by the officer, who, it wasevident, by no means liked the service he was on, took advantage of theopportunity, and, stepping forward, he said,--

  "My good people, and fellow townsmen, let me implore you to listen toreason, and go to your homes in peace. If you do not, but, on thecontrary, in defiance of law and good order, persist in attacking thishouse, it will become my painful duty to read the riot act, and then themilitary and you will have to fight it out together, which I beg youwill avoid, for you know that some of you will be killed, and a lot moreof you receive painful wounds. Now disperse, let me beg of you, atonce."

  There seemed for a moment a disposition among the mob to give up thecontest, but there were others among them who were infuriated withdrink, and so regardless of all consequences. Those set up a shout of"Down with the red coats; we are Englishmen, and will do what we like."Some one then threw a heavy stone, which struck one of the soldiers, andbrought blood from his cheek. The officer saw it, but he said at once,--

  "Stand firm, now, stand firm. No anger--steady."

  "Twenty pounds for the man who threw that stone," said themagistrate.--"Twenty pound ten for old Adamson, the magistrate," cried avoice in the crowd, which, no doubt came from him who had cast themissile.

  Then, at least fifty stones were thrown, some of which hit themagistrate, and the remainder came rattling upon the helmets of thedragoons, like a hail shower.

  "I warn you, and beg of you to go," said Mr. Adamson; "for the sake ofyour wives and families, I beg of you not to pursue this desperategame."

  Loud cries now arose of "Down with the soldiers; down with the vampyre.He's in Bannerworth Hall. Smoke him out." And then one or two links werehurled among the dismounted dragoons. All this was put up withpatiently; and then again the mob were implored to leave, which beinganswered by fresh taunts, the magistrate proceeded to read the riot act,not one word of which was audible amid the tumult that prevailed.

  "Put out all the lights," cried a voice among the mob. The order wasobeyed, and the same voice added; "they dare not fire on us. Come on:"and a rush was made at the garden wall.

  "Make ready--present," cried the officer. And then he added, in an undertone, "above their heads, now--fire."

  There was a blaze of light for a moment, a stunning noise, a shout ofdismay from the mob, and in another moment all was still.

  "There," said Dr. Chillingworth, "that this is, at all events, abloodless victory."

  "You may depend upon that," said his companion; "but is not there someone yet remaining? Look there, do you not see a figure clambering overthe fence?"

  "Yes, I do, indeed. Ah, they have him a prisoner, at all events. Thosetwo dragoons have him, fast enough; we shall now, perhaps, hear fromthis fellow who is the actual ringleader in such an affair, which, butfor the pusillanimity of the mob, might have turned out to be reallymost disastrous."

  It was strange how one man should think it expedient to attack themilitary post after the mob had been so completely routed at the firstdischarge of fire-arms, but so it was. One man did make an attempt toenter the garden, and it was so rapid and so desperate an one, that herather seemed to throw himself bodily at the fence, which separated itfrom the meadows without, than to clamber over it, as any one underordinary circumstances, who might wish to effect an entrance by thatmeans, would have done.

  He was no sooner, however, perceived, than a couple of the dismountedsoldiers stepped forward and made a prisoner of him.

  "Good God!" exclaimed Mr. Chillingworth, as they approached nearer withhim. "Good God! what is the meaning of that? Do my eyes deceive me, orare they, indeed, so blessed?"

  "Blessed by what?" exclaimed the hangman.

  "By a sight of the long lost, deeply regretted Charles Holland.Charles--Charles, is that indeed you, or some unsubstantial form in yourlikeness?"

  Charles Holland, for it was, indeed, himself, heard the friendly voiceof the doctor, and he called out to him.

  "Speak to me of Flora. Oh, speak to me of Flora, if you would not haveme die at once of suspense, and all the torture of apprehension."

  "She lives and is well."

  "Thank Heaven. Do with me what you please."

  Dr. Chillingworth sprang forward, and addressing the magistrate, hesaid,--

  "Sir, I know this gentleman. He is no one of the rioters, but a dearfriend of the family of the Bannerworths. Charles Holland, what in thename of Heaven had become of you so long, and what brought you here atsuch a juncture as this?"

  "I am faint," said Charles; "I--I only arrived as the crowd did. I hadnot strength to fight my way through them, and was compelled to pauseuntil they had dispersed Can--can you give me water?"

  "Here's something better," said one of the soldiers, as he handed aflask to Charles, who partook of some of the contents, which greatlyrevived him, indeed.

  "I am better now," he said. "Thank you kindly. Take me into the house.Good God! why is it made a point of attack? Where are Flora and Henry?Are they all well? And my uncle? Oh! what must you all have thought ofmy absence! But you cannot have endured a hundredth part of what I havesuffered. Let me look once again upon the face of Flora. Take me intothe house."

  "Release him," said the officer, as he pointed to his head, and lookedsignificantly, as much as to say, "Some mad patient of yours, Isuppose."

  "You are much mistaken, sir," said Dr. Chillingworth; "this gentlemanhas been cruelly used, I have no doubt. He has, I am inclined tobelieve, been made the victim, for a time, of the intrigues of that verySir Francis Varney, whose conduct has been the real cause of all theserious disturbances that have taken place in the country."

  "Confound Sir Francis Varney," muttered the officer; "he is enough toset a whole nation by the ears. However, Mr. Magistrate, if you aresatisfied that this young man is not one of the rioters, I have, ofcourse, no wish to hold him a prisoner."

  "I can take Mr. Chillingworth's word for more than that," said themagistrate.

  Charles Holland was accordingly released, and then the doctor, inhurried accents, told him the principal outlines of what had occurred.

  "Oh! take me to Flora," he said; "let me not delay another moment inseeking her, and convincing her that I could not have been guilty of thebaseness of deserting her."

  "Hark you, Mr. Holland, I have quite made up my mind that I will notleave Bannerworth Hall yet; but you can go alone, and easily find themby the directions which I will give you; only let me beg of you not togo abruptly into the presence of Flora. She is in an extremely delicatestate of health, and although I do not take upon myself to say that ashock of a pleasurable nature would prove of any paramount badconsequence to her, yet it is as well not to risk it."

  "I will be most careful, you may depend."

  At this moment there was a loud ringing at the garden bell, and, when itwas answered by one of the dragoons, who was ordered to do so by hisofficer, he came back, escorting no other than Jack Pringle, who hadbeen sent by the admiral to the Hall, but who had solaced himself somuch on the road with divers potations, that he did not reach it tillnow, which was a full hour after the reasonable time in which he oughtto have gone the distance.

  Jack was not to say dumb, but he had had enough to give him a very jollysort of feeling of independence, and so he came along quarrelling withthe soldier all the way, the latter only laughing and keeping his temperadmirably well, under a great deal of provocation.

  "Why, you land lubbers," cried Jack, "what do you do here, all of you, Iwonder! You are all wamphighers, I'll be bound, every one of you. Youmind me of marines, you do, and that's quite enough to turn a properseaman's stomach, any day in the week."

  The soldier only laughed, and brought Jack up to the little group ofpersons consisting of Dr. Chillingworth, the hangman, Charles Holland,and the officer.

  "Why, Jack Pringle," said Dr. Chillin
gworth, stepping before Charles, sothat Jack should not see him,--"why, Jack Pringle, what brings youhere?"

  "A slight squall, sir, to the nor'west. Brought you something to eat."

  Jack produced a bottle.

  "To drink, you mean?"

  "Well, it's all one; only in this here shape, you see, it goes downbetter, I'm thinking, which does make a little difference somehow."

  "How is the admiral?"

  "Oh, he's as stupid as ever; Lord bless you, he'd be like a ship withouta rudder without me, and would go swaying about at the mercy of windsand waves, poor old man. He's bad enough as it is, but if so be I wasn'tto give the eye to him as I does, bless my heart if I thinks as he'd beabove hatches long. Here's to you all."

  Jack took the cork from the bottle he had with him, and there came fromit a strong odour of rum. Then he placed it to his lips, and wasenjoying the pleasant gurgle of the liquor down his throat, when Charlesstepped up to him, and laying hold of the lower end of the bottle, hedragged it from his mouth, saying,--

  "How dare you talk in the way you have of my uncle, you drunken,mutinous rascal, and behind his back too!"

  The voice of Charles Holland was as well known to Jack Pringle as thatof the admiral, and his intense astonishment at hearing himself sosuddenly addressed by one, of whose proximity he had not the least idea,made some of the rum go, what is popularly termed, the wrong way, andnearly choked him.

  He reeled back, till he fell over some obstruction, and then down he saton a flower bed, while his eyes seemed ready to come out of his head.

  "Avast heavings," he cried, "Who's that?"

  "Come, come," said Charles Holland, "don't pretend you don't know me; Iwill not have my uncle spoken of in a disrespectful manner by you."

  "Well, shiver my timbers, if that ain't our nevey. Why, Charley, my boy,how are you? Here we are in port at last. Won't the old commodore pipehis eye, now. Whew! here's a go. I've found our nevey, after all."

  "You found him," said Dr. Chillingworth; "now, that is as great a pieceof impudence as ever I heard in all my life. You mean that he has foundyou, and found you out, too, you drunken fellow. Jack, you get worse andworse every day."

  "Ay, ay, sir."

  "What, you admit it?"

  "Ay, ay, sir. Now, Master Charley, I tell you what it is, I shall takeyou off to your old uncle, you shore going sneak and you'll have toreport what cruise you've been upon all this while, leaving the ship tolook after itself. Lord love you all, if it hadn't been for me I don'tknow what anybody would have done."

  "I only know of the result," said Dr Chillingworth, "that would ensue,if it were not for you, and that would consist in a great injury to therevenue, in consequence of the much less consumption of rum and otherstrong liquors."

  "I'll be hanged up at the yard if I understands what you mean," saidJack; "as if I ever drunk anything--I, of all people in the world. I amashamed of you. You are drunk."

  Several of the dragoons had to turn aside to keep themselves fromlaughing, and the officer himself could not forbear from a smile as hesaid to the doctor,--

  "Sir, you seem to have many acquaintances, and by some means or anotherthey all have an inclination to come here to-night. If, however, youconsider that you are bound to remain here from a feeling that the Hallis threatened with any danger, you may dismiss that fear, for I shallleave a picquet here all night."

  "No, sir," replied Dr. Chillingworth, "it is not that I fear now, afterthe manner in which they have been repulsed, any danger to the Hall fromthe mob; but I have reasons for wishing to be in it or near it for sometime to come."

  "As you please."

  "Charles, do not wait for or accept the guidance of that drunken fellow,but go yourself with a direction which I will write down for you in aleaf of my pocket-book."

  "Drunken fellow," exclaimed Jack, who had now scrambled to his feet,"who do you call a drunken fellow?"

  "Why you, unquestionably."

  "Well, now, that is hard. Come along, nevey; I'll shew you where theyall are. I could walk a plank on any deck with any man in the service, Icould. Come along, my boy, come along."

  "You can accept of him as a guide if you like, of course," said thedoctor; "he may be sober enough to conduct you."

  "I think he can," said Charles. "Lead on, Jack; but mark me, I shallinform my uncle of this intemperance, as well as of the manner in whichyou let your tongue wag about him behind his back, unless you promise toreform."

  "He is long past all reformation," remarked Dr. Chillingworth; "it isout of the question."

  "And I am afraid my uncle will not have courage to attempt such anungrateful task, when there is so little chance of success," repliedCharles Holland, shaking the worthy doctor by the hand. "Farewell, forthe present, sir; the next time I see you, I hope we shall both be morepleasantly situated."

  "Come along, nevey," interrupted Jack Pringle; "now you've found yourway back, the first thing you ought to do, is to report yourself ashaving come aboard. Follow me, and I'll soon show yer the port where theold hulk's laid hisself up."

  Jack walked on first, tolerably steady, if one may take into account hisdivers deep potations, and Charles Holland, anticipating with delightagain looking upon the face of his much loved Flora, followed closelybehind him.

  We can well imagine the world of delightful thoughts that came crowdingupon him when Jack, after rather a long walk, announced that they werenow very near the residence of the object of his soul's adoration.

  We trust that there is not one of our readers who, for one moment, willsuppose that Charles Holland was the sort of man to leave even such avillain and double-faced hypocrite as Marchdale, to starve amid thegloomy ruins where he was immured.

  Far from Charles's intentions was any such thing; but he did think thata night passed there, with no other company than his own reflections,would do him a world of good, and was, at all events, no very greatmodicum of punishment for the rascality with which he had behaved.

  Besides, even during that night there were refreshments in the shape ofbread and water, such as had been presented to Charles himself, withinMarchdale's reach as they had been within his.

  That individual now, Charles thought, would have a good opportunity oftesting the quality of that kind of food, and of finding out what anextremely light diet it was for a strong man to live upon.

  But in the morning it was Charles's intention to take Henry Bannerworthand the admiral with him to the ruins, and then and there release thewretch from his confinement, on condition that he made a full confessionof his villanies before those persons.

  Oh, how gladly would Marchdale have exchanged the fate which actuallybefell him for any amount of personal humiliation, always provided thatit brought with it a commensurate amount of personal safety.

  But that fate was one altogether undreamt of by Charles Holland, andwholly without his control.

  It was a fate which would have been his, but for the murderous purposewhich had brought Marchdale to the dungeon, and those happy accidentswhich had enabled Charles to change places with him, and breathe thefree, cool, fresh air; while he left his enemy loaded with the samechains that had encumbered his limbs so cruelly, and lying on that samedamp dungeon floor, which he thought would be his grave.

  We mentioned that as Charles left the ruins, the storm, which had beengiving various indications of its coming, seemed to be rapidlyapproaching.

  It was one of these extremely local tempests which expend all theirprincipal fury over a small space of country; and, in this instance, thespace seemed to include little more than the river, and the few meadowswhich immediately surrounded it, and lent it so much of its beauty.

  Marchdale soon found that his cries were drowned by the louder voices ofthe elements. The wailing of the wind among the ancient ruins was muchmore full of sound than his cries; and, now and then, the full-mouthedthunder filled the air with such a volume of roaring, and awakened somany echoes among the ruins, that, had he possessed the voices of fifty
men, he could not have hoped to wage war with it.

  And then, although we know that Charles Holland would have encountereddeath himself, rather than he would have willingly left anything humanto expire of hunger in that dungeon, yet Marchdale, judging of others byhimself, felt by no means sure of any such thing, and, in his horror ofapprehension, fancied that that was just the sort of easy, and pleasant,and complete revenge that it was in Charles Holland's power to take, andjust the one which would suggest itself, under the circumstances, to hismind.

  Could anything be possibly more full of horror than such a thought?Death, let it come in any shape it may, is yet a most repulsive andunwelcome guest; but, when it comes, so united with all that can add toits terrors, it is enough to drive reason from its throne, and fill themind with images of absolute horror.

  Tired of shrieking, for his parched lips and clogged tongue wouldscarcely now permit him to utter a sound higher than a whisper.Marchdale lay, listening to the furious storm without, in the lastabandonment of despair.

  "Oh! what a death is this," he groaned. "Here, alone--all alone--andstarvation to creep on me by degrees, sapping life's energies one byone. Already do I feel the dreadful sickening weakness growing on me.Help, oh! help me Heav--no, no! Dare I call on Heaven to help me? Isthere no fiend of darkness who now will bid me a price for a human soul?Is there not one who will do so--not one who will rescue me from thehorror that surrounds me, for Heaven will not? I dare not ask mercythere."

  The storm continued louder and louder. The wind, it is true, was nearlyhushed, but the roar and the rattle of the echo-awakening thunder fullymade up for its cessation, while, now and then, even there, in thatunderground abode, some sudden reflection of the vivid lightning's lightwould find its way, lending, for a fleeting moment, sufficient light toMarchdale, wherewith he could see the gloomy place in which he was.

  At times he wept, and at times he raved, while ever and anon he madesuch frantic efforts to free himself from the chains that were aroundhim, that, had they not been strong, he must have succeeded; but, as itwas, he only made deep indentations into his flesh, and gave himselfmuch pain.

  "Charles Holland!" he shouted; "oh! release me! Varney! Varney! why doyou not come to save me? I have toiled for you most unrequitedly--I havenot had my reward. Let it all consist in my release from this dreadfulbondage. Help! help! oh, help!"

  There was no one to hear him. The storm continued, and now, suddenly, asudden and a sharper sound than any awakened by the thunder's roar cameupon his startled ear, and, in increased agony, he shouted,--

  "What is that? oh! what is that? God of heaven, do my fears translatethat sound aright? Can it be, oh! can it be, that the ruins which havestood for so many a year are now crumbling down before the storm ofto-night?"

  The sound came again, and he felt the walls of the dungeon in which hewas shake. Now there could be no doubt but that the lightning had strucksome part of the building, and so endangered the safety of all that wasabove ground. For a moment there came across his brain such a rush ofagony, that he neither spoke nor moved. Had that dreadful feelingcontinued much longer, he must have lapsed into insanity; but thatamount of mercy--for mercy it would have been--was not shown to him. Hestill felt all the accumulating horrors of his situation, and then, withsuch shrieks as nothing but a full appreciation of such horrors couldhave given him strength to utter, he called upon earth, upon heaven andupon all that was infernal, to save him from his impending doom.

  All was in vain. It was an impending doom which nothing but the directinterposition of Heaven could have at all averted; and it was not likelythat any such perversion of the regular laws of nature would take placeto save such a man as Marchdale.

  Again came the crashing sound of falling stones, and he was certain thatthe old ruins, which had stood for so many hundred years the storm, andthe utmost wrath of the elements, was at length yielding, and crumblingdown.

  What else could he expect but to be engulphed among thefragments--fragments still weighty and destructive, although in decay.How fearfully now did his horrified imagination take in at one glance,as it were, a panoramic view of all his past life, and how absolutelycontemptible, at that moment, appeared all that he had been strivingfor.

  But the walls shake again, and this time the vibration is more fearfulthan before. There is a tremendous uproar above him--the roof yields tosome superincumbent pressure--there is one shriek, and Marchdale liescrushed beneath a mass of masonry that it would take men and machinerydays to remove from off him.

  All is over now. That bold, bad man--that accomplished hypocrite--thatmendacious, would-be murderer was no more. He lies but a mangled,crushed, and festering corpse.

  May his soul find mercy with his God!

  The storm, from this moment, seemed to relax in its violence, as if ithad accomplished a great purpose, and, consequently, now, need no longer"vex the air with its boisterous presence." Gradually the thunder diedaway in the distance. The wind no longer blew in blustrous gusts, but,with a gentle murmuring, swept around the ancient pile, as if singingthe requiem of the dead that lay beneath--that dead which mortal eyeswere never to look upon.