Varney the Vampire. James Malcolm Rymer

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      A kind of stupefaction came over Henry Bannerworth, and he sat for about a quarter of an hour scarcely conscious of where he was, and almost incapable of anything in the shape of rational thought. It was his brother, George, who roused him by saying, as he laid his hand upon his shoulder—

      "Henry, are you asleep?"

      Henry had not been aware of his presence, and he started up as if he had been shot.

      "Oh, George, is it you?" he said.

      "Yes, Henry, are you unwell?"

      "No, no; I was in a deep reverie."

      "Alas! I need not ask upon what subject," said George, sadly. "I sought you to bring you this letter."

      "A letter to me?"

      "Yes, you see it is addressed to you, and the seal looks as if it came from someone of consequence."

      "Indeed!"

      "Yes, Henry. Read it, and see from whence it comes."

      There was just sufficient light by going to the window to enable Henry to read the letter, which he did aloud.

      It ran thus:—

      "Sir Francis Varney presents his compliments to Mr. Beaumont, and is much concerned to hear that some domestic affliction has fallen upon him. Sir Francis hopes that the genuine and loving sympathy of a neighbour will not be regarded as an intrusion, and begs to proffer any assistance or counsel that may be within the compass of his means.

      "Ratford Abbey."

      "Sir Francis Varney!" said Henry, "who is he?"

      "Do you not remember, Henry," said George, "we were told a few days ago, that a gentleman of that name had become the purchaser of the estate of Ratford Abbey."

      "Oh, yes, yes. Have you seen him?"

      "I have not."

      "I do not wish to make any new acquaintance, George. We are very poor—much poorer indeed than the general appearance of this place, which, I fear, we shall soon have to part with, would warrant any one believing. I must, of course, return a civil answer to this gentleman, but it must be such as one as shall repress familiarity."

      "That will be difficult to do while we remain here, when we come to consider the very close proximity of the two properties, Henry."

      "Oh, no, not at all. He will easily perceive that we do not want to make acquaintance with him, and then, as a gentleman, which doubtless he is, he will give up the attempt."

      "Let it be so, Henry. Heaven knows I have no desire to form any new acquaintance with any one, and more particularly under our present circumstances of depression. And now, Henry, you must permit me, as I have had some repose, to share with you your night watch in Flora's room."

      "I would advise you not, George; your health, you know, is very far from good."

      "Nay, allow me. If not, then the anxiety I shall suffer will do me more harm than the watchfulness I shall keep up in her chamber."

      This was an argument which Henry felt himself the force of too strongly not to admit it in the case of George, and he therefore made no further opposition to his wish to make one in the night watch.

      "There will be an advantage," said George, "you see, in three of us being engaged in this matter, because, should anything occur, two can act together, and yet Flora may not be left alone."

      "True, true, that is a great advantage."

      Now a soft gentle silvery light began to spread itself over the heavens. The moon was rising, and as the beneficial effects of the storm of the preceding evening were still felt in the clearness of the air, the rays appeared to be more lustrous and full of beauty than they commonly were.

      Each moment the night grew lighter, and by the time the brothers were ready to take their places in the chamber of Flora, the moon had risen considerably.

      Although neither Henry nor George had any objection to the company of Mr. Marchdale, yet they gave him the option, and rather in fact urged him not to destroy his night's repose by sitting up with them; but he said—

      "Allow me to do so; I am older, and have calmer judgment than you can have. Should anything again appear, I am quite resolved that it shall not escape me."

      "What would you do?"

      "With the name of God upon my lips," said Mr. Marchdale, solemnly, "I would grapple with it."

      "You laid hands upon it last night."

      "I did, and have forgotten to show you what I tore from it. Look here—what should you say this was?"

      He produced a piece of cloth, on which was an old-fashioned piece of lace, and two buttons. Upon a close inspection, this appeared to be a portion of the lapel of a coat of ancient times, and suddenly, Henry, with a look of intense anxiety, said—

      "This reminds me of the fashion of garments very many years ago, Mr. Marchdale."

      "It came away in my grasp as if rotten and incapable of standing any rough usage."

      "What a strange unearthly smell it has!"

      "Now you mention it yourself," added Mr. Marchdale, "I must confess it smells to me as if it had really come from the very grave."

      "It does—it does. Say nothing of this relic of last night's work to any one."

      "Be assured I shall not. I am far from wishing to keep up in any one's mind proofs of that which I would fain, very fain refute."

      Mr. Marchdale replaced the portion of the coat which the figure had worn in his pocket, and then the whole three proceeded to the chamber of Flora.

      It was within a very few minutes of midnight, the moon had climbed high in the heavens, and a night of such brightness and beauty had seldom shown itself for a long period of time.

      Flora slept, and in her chamber sat the two brothers and Mr. Marchdale, silently, for she had shown symptoms of restlessness, and they much feared to break the light slumber into which she had fallen.

      Occasionally they had conversed in whispers, which could not have the effect of rousing her, for the room, although smaller than the one she had before occupied, was still sufficiently spacious to enable them to get some distance from the bed.

      Until the hour of midnight now actually struck, they were silent, and when the last echo of the sounds had died away, a feeling СКАЧАТЬ