Varney the Vampire; Or, the Feast of Blood

by Thomas Preskett Prest

  CHAPTER LXXXV.

  THE HUNGARIAN NOBLEMAN GETS INTO DANGER.--HE IS FIRED AT, AND SHOWS SOMEOF HIS QUALITY.

  Considerably delighted was the Hungarian, not only at the news he hadreceived from the boy, but as well for the cheapness of it. Probably hedid not conceive it possible that the secret of the retreat of such aman as Varney could have been attained so easily.

  He waited with great impatience for the evening, and stirred not fromthe inn for several hours; neither did he take any refreshment,notwithstanding he had made so liberal an arrangement with the landlordto be supplied.

  All this was a matter of great excitement and speculation in the inn, somuch so, indeed, that the landlord sent for some of the oldest customersof his house, regular topers, who sat there every evening, indulging instrong drinks, and pipes and tobacco, to ask their serious advice as towhat he should do, as if it were necessary he should do anything at all.

  But, somehow or another, these wiseacres who assembled at the landlord'sbidding, and sat down, with something strong before them, in the barparlour, never once seemed to think that a man might, if he choosed,come to an inn, and agree to pay four guineas a week for board andlodging, and yet take nothing at all.

  No; they could not understand it, and therefore they would not have it.It was quite monstrous that anybody should attempt to do anything socompletely out of the ordinary course of proceeding. It was not to beborne; and as in this country it happens, free and enlightened as weare, that no man can commit a greater social offence than doingsomething that his neighbours never thought of doing themselves, theHungarian nobleman was voted a most dangerous character, and, in fact,not to be put up with.

  "I shouldn't have thought so much of it" said the landlord; "but onlylook at the aggravation of the thing. After I have asked him fourguineas a week, and expected to be beaten down to two, to be then toldthat he would not have cared if it had been eight. It is enough toaggravate a saint."

  "Well, I agree with you there," said another; "that's just what it is,and I only wonder that a man of your sagacity has not quite understoodit before."

  "Understood what?"

  "Why, that he is a vampyre. He has heard of Sir Francis Varney, that'sthe fact, and he's come to see him. Birds of a feather, you know, flocktogether, and now we shall have two vampyres in the town instead ofone."

  The party looked rather blank at this suggestion, which, indeed, seemedrather uncomfortable probably. The landlord had just opened his mouth tomake some remark, when he was stopped by the violent ringing of what henow called the vampyre's bell, since it proceeded from the room wherethe Hungarian nobleman was.

  "Have you an almanack in the house?" was the question of the mysteriousguest.

  "An almanack, sir? well, I really don't know. Let me see, an almanack."

  "But, perhaps, you can tell me. I was to know the moon's age."

  "The devil!" thought the landlord; "he's a vampyre, and no mistake. Why,sir, as to the moon's age, it was a full moon last night, very brightand beautiful, only you could not see it for the clouds."

  "A full moon last night," said the mysterious guest, thoughtfully; "itmay shine, then, brightly, to-night, and if so, all will be well. Ithank you,--leave the room."

  "Do you mean to say, sir, you don't want anything to eat now?"

  "What I want I'll order."

  "But you have ordered nothing."

  "Then presume that I want nothing."

  The discomfited landlord was obliged to leave the room, for there was nosuch a thing as making any answer to this, and so, still furtherconfirmed in his opinion that the stranger was a vampyre that came tosee Sir Francis Varney from a sympathetic feeling towards him, he againreached the bar-parlour.

  "You may depend," he said, "as sure as eggs is eggs, that he is avampyre. Hilloa! he's going off,--after him--after him; he thinks wesuspect him. There he goes--down the High-street."

  The landlord ran out, and so did those who were with him, one of whomcarried his brandy and water in his hand, which, being too hot for himto swallow all at once, he still could not think of leaving behind.

  It was now gelling rapidly dark, and the mysterious stranger wasactually proceeding towards the lane to keep his appointment with theboy who had promised to conduct him to the hiding-place of Sir FrancisVarney.

  He had not proceeded far, however, before he began to suspect that hewas followed, as it was evident on the instant that he altered hiscourse; for, instead of walking down the lane, where the boy was waitingfor him, he went right on, and seemed desirous of making his way intothe open country between the town and Bannerworth Hall.

  His pursuers--for they assumed that character--when they saw this becameanxious to intercept him; and thinking that the greater force they hadthe better, they called out aloud as they passed a smithy, where a manwas shoeing a horse,--

  "Jack Burdon, here is another vampyre!"

  "The deuce there is!" said the person who was addressed. "I'll soonsettle him. Here's my wife gets no sleep of a night as it is, all owingto that Varney, who has been plaguing us so long. I won't put up withanother."

  So saying, he snatched from a hook on which it hung, an oldfowling-piece, and joined the pursuit, which now required to beconducted with some celerity, for the stranger had struck into the opencountry, and was getting on at good speed.

  The last remnants of the twilight were fading away, and although themoon had actually risen, its rays were obscured by a number of light,fleecy clouds, which, although they did not promise to be of longcontinuance, as yet certainly impeded the light.

  "Where is he going?" said the blacksmith. "He seems to be making his waytowards the mill-stream."

  "No," said another; "don't you see he is striking higher up towards theold ford, where the stepping-stones are!"

  "He is--he is," cried the blacksmith. "Run on--run on; don't you see heis crossing it now? Tell me, all of you, are you quite sure he is avampyre, and no mistake? He ain't the exciseman, landlord, now, is he?"

  "The exciseman, the devil! Do you think I want to shoot the exciseman?"

  "Very good--then here goes," exclaimed the Smith.

  He stooped, and just as the brisk night air blew aside the clouds frombefore the face of the moon, and as the stranger was crossing theslippery stones, he fired at him.

  * * * * *

  How silently and sweetly the moon's rays fall upon the water, upon themeadows, and upon the woods. The scenery appeared the work ofenchantment, some fairy land, waiting the appearance of its inhabitants.No sound met the ear; the very wind was hushed; nothing was there todistract the sense of sight, save the power of reflection.

  This, indeed, would aid the effect of such a scene. A cloudless sky, thestars all radiant with beauty, while the moon, rising higher and higherin the heavens, increasing in the strength and refulgence of her light,and dimming the very stars, which seemed to grow gradually invisible asthe majesty of the queen of night became more and more manifest.

  The dark woods and the open meadows contrasted more and more strongly;like light and shade, the earth and sky were not more distinct andapart; and the ripling stream, that rushed along with all theimpetuosity of uneven ground.

  The banks are clothed with verdure; the tall sedges, here and there,lined the sides; beds of bulrushes raised their heads high above allelse, and threw out their round clumps of blossoms like tufts, andlooked strange in the light of the moon.

  Here and there, too, the willows bent gracefully over the stream, andtheir long leaves were wafted and borne up and down by the gentler forceof the stream.

  Below, the stream widened, and ran foaming over a hard, stony bottom,and near the middle is a heap of stones--of large stones, that form thebed of the river, from which the water has washed away all earthyparticles, and left them by themselves.

  These stones in winter could not be seen, they were all under water, andthe stream washed over in a turbulent and tumultuous manner. But now,when the wat
er was clear and low, they are many of them positively outof the water, the stream running around and through their interstices;the water-weeds here and there lying at the top of the stream, andblossoming beautifully.

  The daisy-like blossoms danced and waved gently on the moving flood, atthe same time they shone in the moonlight, like fairy faces rising fromthe depths of the river, to receive the principle of life from themoon's rays.

  'Tis sweet to wander in the moonlight at such an hour, and it is sweetto look upon such a scene with an unruffled mind, and to give way to thefeelings that are engendered by a walk by the river side.

  See, the moon is rising higher and higher, the shadows grow shorter andshorter; the river, which in places was altogether hidden by the tallwillow trees, now gradually becomes less and less hidden, and the waterbecomes more and more lit up.

  The moonbeams play gracefully on the rippling surface, here and thereappearing like liquid silver, that each instant changed its position andsurface exposed to the light.

  Such a moment--such a scene, were by far too well calculated to causethe most solemn and serious emotions of the mind, and he must have beenbut at best insensible, who could wander over meadow and through grove,and yet remain untouched by the scene of poetry and romance in which hebreathed and moved.

  At such a time, and in such a place, the world is alive with all thefiner essences of mysterious life. 'Tis at such an hour that the spiritsquit their secret abodes, and visit the earth, and whirl round theenchanted trees.

  'Tis now the spirits of earth and air dance their giddy flight fromflower to flower. 'Tis now they collect and exchange their greetings;the wood is filled with them, the meadows teem with them, the hedges atthe river side have them hidden among the deep green leaves and blades.

  But what is that yonder, on the stones, partially out of the water--whatcan it be? The more it is looked at, the more it resembles the humanform--and yet it is still and motionless on the hard stones--and yet itis a human form. The legs are lying in the water, the arms appear to bepartially in and partially out, they seem moved by the stream now andthen, but very gently--so slightly, indeed, that it might well bequestioned if it moved at all.

  The moon's rays had not yet reached it; the bank on the opposite side ofthe stream was high, and some tall trees rose up and obscured the moon.But she was rising higher and higher each moment, and, finally, when ithas reached the tops of those trees, then the rays will reach the middleof the river, and then, by degrees, it will reach the stones in theriver, and, finally, the body that lies there so still and somysteriously.

  How it came there it would be difficult to say. It appeared as though,when the waters were high, the body had floated down, and, at thesubsidence of the waters, it had been left upon the stones, and now itwas exposed to view.

  It was strange and mysterious, and those who might look upon such asight would feel their blood chill, and their body creep, to contemplatethe remains of humanity in such a place, and in such a condition as thatmust be in.

  A human life had been taken! How? Who could tell? Perhaps accident alonewas the cause of it; perhaps some one had taken a life by violent means,and thrown the body in the waters to conceal the fact and the crime.

  The waters had brought it down, and deposited it there in the middle ofthe river, without any human creature being acquainted with the fact.

  But the moon rises--the beams come trembling through the tree tops andstraggling branches, and fall upon the opposite bank, and there lies thebody, mid stream, and in comparative darkness.

  By the time the river is lit up by the moon's rays, then the object onthe stones will be visible, then it can be ascertained what appears nowonly probable, namely, is the dark object a human form or not?

  In the absence of light it appears to be so, but when the flood ofsilver light falls upon it, it would be placed then beyond a doubt.

  The time is approaching--the moon each moment approaches her meridian,and each moment do the rays increase in number and in strength, whilethe shadows shorten.

  The opposite bank each moment becomes more and more distinct, and theside of the stream, the green rushes and sedges, all by degrees comefull into view.

  Now and then a fish leaps out of the stream, and just exhibits itself,as much as to say, "There are things living in the stream, and I am oneof them."

  The moment is one of awe--the presence of that mysterious anddreadful-looking object, even while its identity remains doubt, chillsthe heart--it contracts the expanding thoughts to that one object--allinterest in the scene lies centered in that one point.

  What could it be? What else but a human body? What else could assumesuch a form? But see, nearly half the stream is lit by the moonbeamsstruggling through the tree tops, and now rising above them. The lightincreases, and the shadows shorten.

  The edge of the bed of stones now becomes lit up by the moonlight; therippling stream, the bubbles, and the tiny spray that was caused by therush of water against the stones, seemed like sparkling flashes ofsilver fire.

  Then came the moonbeams upon the body, for it was raised above the levelof the water, and shewed conspicuously; for the moonbeams reached thebody before they fell on the surrounding water; for that reason then itwas the body presented a strange and ghastly object against a deep, darkbackground, by which it was surrounded.

  But this did not last long--the water in another minute was lit up bythe moon's pale beams, and then indeed could be plainly enough seen thebody of a man lying on the heap of stones motionless and ghastly.

  The colourless hue of the moonlight gave the object a most horrific andterrible appearance! The face of the dead man was turned towards themoon's rays, and the body seemed to receive all the light that couldfall upon it.

  It was a terrible object to look upon, and one that added a new andsingular interest to the scene! The world seemed then to be composedalmost exclusively of still life, and the body was no impediment to thestillness of the scene.

  It was, all else considered, a calm, beautiful scene, lovely the night,gorgeous the silvery rays that lit up the face of nature; the hill anddale, meadow, and wood, and river, all afforded contrasts strong,striking, and strange.

  But strange, and more strange than any contrast in nature, was thatafforded to the calm beauty of the night and place by the deep stillnessand quietude imposed upon the mind by that motionless human body.

  The moon's rays now fell upon its full length; the feet were lying inthe water, the head lay back, with its features turned towards thequarter of the heavens where the moon shone from; the hair floated onthe shallow water, while the face and body were exposed to allinfluences, from its raised and prominent position.

  The moonbeams had scarcely settled upon it--scarce a few minutes--whenthe body moved. Was it the water that moved it? it could not be, surely,that the moonbeams had the power of recalling life into that inanimatemass, that lay there for some time still and motionless as the verystones on which it lay.

  It was endued with life; the dead man gradually rose up, and leanedhimself upon his elbow; he paused a moment like one newly recalled tolife; he seemed to become assured he did live. He passed one handthrough his hair, which was wet, and then rose higher into a sittingposture, and then he leaned on one hand, inclining himself towards themoon.

  His breast heaved with life, and a kind of deep inspiration, or groan,came from him, as he first awoke to life, and then he seemed to pausefor a few moments. He turned gradually over, till his head inclined downthe stream.

  Just below, the water deepened, and ran swiftly and silently on amidmeads and groves of trees. The vampyre was revived; he awoke again to aghastly life; he turned from the heap of stones, he gradually allowedhimself to sink into deep water, and then, with a loud plunge, he swamto the centre of the river.

  Slowly and surely did he swim into the centre of the river, and down thestream he went. He took long, but easy strokes, for he was going downthe stream, and that aided him.

  For some d
istance might he be heard and seen through the openings in thetrees, but he became gradually more and more indistinct, till sound andsight both ceased, and the vampyre had disappeared.

  During the continuance of this singular scene, not one word had passedbetween the landlord and his companions. When the blacksmith fired thefowling-piece, and saw the stranger fall, apparently lifeless, upon thestepping-stones that crossed the river, he became terrified at what hehad done, and gazed upon the seeming lifeless form with a face on whichthe utmost horror was depicted.

  They all seemed transfixed to the spot, and although each would havegiven worlds to move away, a kind of nightmare seemed to possess them,which stunned all their faculties, and brought over them a torpidityfrom which they found it impossible to arouse themselves.

  But, when the apparently dead man moved again, and when, finally, thebody, which appeared so destitute of life, rolled into the stream, andfloated away with the tide, their fright might be considered to havereached its climax. The absence of the body, however, had seemingly, atall events, the effect of releasing them from the mental and physicalthraldom in which they were, and they were enabled to move from thespot, which they did immediately, making their way towards the town withgreat speed.

  As they got near, they held a sort of council of war as to what theyshould do under the circumstances, the result of which was, that theycame to a conclusion to keep all that they had done and seen tothemselves; for, if they did not, they might be called upon for somevery troublesome explanations concerning the fate of the supposedHungarian nobleman whom they had taken upon themselves to believe was avampyre, and to shoot accordingly, without taking the trouble to inquireinto the legality of such an act.

  How such a secret was likely to be kept, when it was shared amongstseven people, it is hard to say; but, if it were so kept, it could onlybe under the pressure of a strong feeling of self-preservation.

  They were forced individually, of course, to account for their absenceduring the night at their respective homes, and how they managed to dothat is best known to themselves.

  As to the landlord, he felt compelled to state that, having hissuspicions of his guest aroused, he followed him on a walk that hepretended to take, and he had gone so far, that at length he had givenup the chase, and lost his own way in returning.

  Thus was it, then, that this affair still preserved all its mystery,with a large superadded amount of fear attendant upon it; for, if themysterious guest were really anything supernatural, might he not comeagain in a much more fearful shape, and avenge the treatment he hadreceived?

  The only person who fell any disappointment in the affair, or whoseexpectations were not realised, was the boy who had made the appointmentwith the supposed vampyre at the end of the lane, and who was to havereceived what he considered so large a reward for pointing out theretreat of Sir Francis Varney.

  He waited in vain for the arrival of the Hungarian nobleman, and, atlast, indignation got the better of him, and he walked away. Feelingthat he had been jilted, he resolved to proceed to the public-house anddemand the half-crowns which had been so liberally promised him; butwhen he reached there he found that the party whom he sought was notwithin, nor the landlord either, for that was the precise time when thatworthy individual was pursuing his guest over meadow and bill, throughbrake and through briar, towards the stepping stones on the river.

  What the boy further did on the following day, when he found that he wasto reap no more benefit for the adventure, we shall soon perceive.

  As for the landlord, he did endeavour to catch a few hours' briefrepose; but as he dreamed that the Hungarian nobleman came in thelikeness of a great toad, and sat upon his chest, feeling like theweight of a mountain, while he, the landlord, tried to scream and cryfor help, but found that he could neither do one thing nor the other, wemay guess that his repose did not at all invigorate him.

  As he himself expressed it, he got up all of a shake, with a strongimpression that he was a very ill-used individual, indeed, to have hadthe nightmare in the day time.

  And now we will return to the cottage where the Bannerworth family wereat all events, making themselves quite as happy as they did at theirancient mansion, in order to see what is there passing, and how Dr.Chillingworth made an effort to get up some evidence of something thatthe Bannerworth family knew nothing of, therefore could not very well beexpected to render him much assistance. That he did, however, make whathe considered an important discovery, we shall perceive in the course ofthe ensuing chapter, in which it will be seen that the best hiddenthings will, by the merest accident, sometimes come to light, and that,too, when least expected by any one at all connected with the result.