Varney the Vampire. James Malcolm Rymer

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СКАЧАТЬ his fire, for what purpose could not be devised, except a murderous one, the taking of a more steady aim at Henry.

      Sir Francis, however, seemed in no hurry, but smiled significantly, and gradually raised the point of his weapon.

      "Did you hear the word, Sir Francis? I gave it loud enough, I am sure. I never spoke plainer in my life; did I ever, Jack?"

      "Yes, often," said Jack Pringle; "what's the use of your asking such yarns as them? you know you have done so often enough when you wanted grog."

      "You d——d rascal, I'll—I'll have your back scored, I will."

      "So you will, when you are afloat again, which you never will be—you're paid off, that's certain."

      "You lubberly lout, you ain't a seaman; a seaman would never mutiny against his admiral; howsomever, do you hear, Sir Francis, I'll give the matter up, if you don't pay some attention to me."

      Henry looked steadily at Varney, expecting every moment to feel his bullet. Mr. Marchdale hastily exclaimed that this was not according to usage.

      Sir Francis Varney took no notice, but went on elevating his weapon; when it was perpendicular to the earth he fired in the air.

      "I had not anticipated this," said Marchdale, as he walked to Henry. "I thought he was taking a more deadly aim."

      "And I," said Henry.

      "Ay, you have escaped, Henry; let me congratulate you."

      "Not so fast; we may fire again."

      "I can afford to do that," he said, with a smile.

      "You should have fired, sir, according to custom," said the admiral; "this is not the proper thing."

      "What, fire at your friend?"

      "Oh, that's all very well! You are my friend for a time, vampyre as you are, and I intend you shall fire."

      "If Mr. Henry Bannerworth demands another fire, I have no objection to it, and will fire at him; but as it is I shall not do so, indeed, it would be quite useless for him to do so—to point mortal weapons at me is mere child's play, they will not hurt me."

      "The devil they won't," said the admiral.

      "Why, look you here," said Sir Francis Varney, stepping forward and placing his hand to his neckerchief; "look you here; if Mr. Henry Bannerworth should demand another fire, he may do so with the same bullet."

      "The same bullet!" said Marchdale, stepping forward—"the same bullet! How is this?"

      "My eyes," said Jack; "who'd a thought it; there's a go! Wouldn't he do for a dummy—to lead a forlorn hope, or to put among the boarders?"

      "Here," said Sir Francis, handing a bullet to Henry Bannerworth—"here is the bullet you shot at me."

      Henry looked at it—it was blackened by powder; and then Marchdale seized it and tried it in the pistol, but found the bullet fitted Henry's weapon.

      "By heavens, it is so!" he exclaimed, stepping back and looking at Varney from top to toe in horror and amazement.

      "D——e," said the admiral, "if I understand this. Why Jack Pringle, you dog, here's a strange fish."

      "On, no! there's plenty on 'um in some countries."

      "Will you insist upon another fire, or may I consider you satisfied?"

      "I shall object," said Marchdale. "Henry, this affair must go no further; it would be madness—worse than madness, to fight upon such terms."

      "So say I," said the admiral. "I will not have anything to do with you, Sir Francis. I'll not be your second any longer. I didn't bargain for such a game as this. You might as well fight with the man in brass armour, at the Lord Mayor's show, or the champion at a coronation."

      "Oh!" said Jack Pringle; "a man may as well fire at the back of a halligator as a wamphigher."

      "This must be considered as having been concluded," said Mr. Marchdale.

      "No!" said Henry.

      "And wherefore not?"

      "Because I have not received his fire."

      "Heaven forbid you should."

      "I may not with honour quit the ground without another fire."

      "Under ordinary circumstances there might be some shadow of an excuse for your demand; but as it is there is none. You have neither honour nor credit to gain by such an encounter, and, certainly, you can gain no object."

      "How are we to decide this affair? Am I considered absolved from the accusation under which I lay, of cowardice?" inquired Sir Francis Varney, with a cold smile.

      "Why, as for that," said the admiral, "I should as soon expect credit for fighting behind a wall, as with a man that I couldn't hit any more than the moon."

      "Henry; let me implore you to quit this scene; it can do no good."

      At this moment, a noise, as of human voices, was heard at a distance; this caused a momentary pause, and, the whole party stood still and listened.

      The murmurs and shouts that now arose in the distance were indistinct and confused.

      "What can all this mean?" said Marchdale; "there is something very strange about it. I cannot imagine a cause for so unusual an occurrence."

      "Nor I," said Sir Francis Varney, looking suspiciously at Henry Bannerworth.

      "Upon my honour I know neither what is the cause nor the nature of the sounds themselves."

      "Then we can easily see what is the matter from yonder hillock," said the admiral; "and there's Jack Pringle, he's up there already. What's he telegraphing about in that manner, I wonder?"

      The fact was, Jack Pringle, hearing the riot, had thought that if he got to the neighbouring eminence he might possibly ascertain what it was that was the cause of what he termed the "row," and had succeeded in some degree.

      There were a number of people of all kinds coming out from the village, apparently armed, and shouting. Jack Pringle hitched up his trousers and swore, then took off his hat and began to shout to the admiral, as he said—

      "D——e, they are too late to spoil the sport. Hilloa! hurrah!"

      "What's all that about, Jack?" inquired the admiral, as he came puffing along. "What's the squall about?"

      "Only a few horse-marines and bumboat-women, that have been startled like a company of penguins."

      "Oh! my eyes! wouldn't a whole broadside set 'em flying, Jack?"

      "Ay; just as them Frenchmen that you murdered on board the Big Thunderer, as you called it."

      "I murder them, you rascal?"

      "Yes; СКАЧАТЬ