Varney the Vampire. James Malcolm Rymer

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СКАЧАТЬ that was, that the more they took pains to inquire into the matter, in order, if possible, to put an end to what they considered a gross lie from the commencement, the more evidence they found to stagger their own senses upon the subject.

      Everywhere then, in every house, public as well as private, something was being continually said of the vampyre. Nursery maids began to think a vampyre vastly superior to "old scratch and old bogie" as a means of terrifying their infant charges into quietness, if not to sleep, until they themselves became too much afraid upon the subject to mention it.

      But nowhere was gossiping carried on upon the subject with more systematic fervour than at an inn called the Nelson's Arms, which was in the high street of the nearest market town to the Hall.

      There, it seemed as if the lovers of the horrible made a point of holding their head quarters, and so thirsty did the numerous discussions make the guests, that the landlord was heard to declare that he, from his heart, really considered a vampyre as very nearly equal to a contested election.

      It was towards evening of the same day that Marchdale and Henry made their visit to Sir Francis Varney, that a postchaise drew up to the inn we have mentioned. In the vehicle were two persons of exceedingly dissimilar appearance and general aspect.

      One of these people was a man who seemed fast verging upon seventy years of age, although, from his still ruddy and embrowned complexion and stentorian voice, it was quite evident he intended yet to keep time at arm's-length for many years to come.

      He was attired in ample and expensive clothing, but every article had a naval animus about it, if we may be allowed such an expression with regard to clothing. On his buttons was an anchor, and the general assortment and colour of the clothing as nearly assimilated as possible to the undress naval uniform of an officer of high rank some fifty or sixty years ago.

      His companion was a younger man, and about his appearance there was no secret at all. He was a genuine sailor, and he wore the shore costume of one. He was hearty-looking, and well dressed, and evidently well fed.

      As the chaise drove up to the door of the inn, this man made an observation to the other to the following effect—

      "A-hoy!"

      "Well, you lubber, what now?" cried the other.

      "They call this the Nelson's Arms; and you know, shiver me, that for the best half of his life he had but one."

      "D—n you!" was the only rejoinder he got for this observation; but, with that, he seemed very well satisfied.

      "Heave to!" he then shouted to the postilion, who was about to drive the chaise into the yard. "Heave to, you lubberly son of a gun! we don't want to go into dock."

      "Ah!" said the old man, "let's get out, Jack. This is the port; and, do you hear, and be cursed to you, let's have no swearing, d—n you, nor bad language, you lazy swab."

      "Aye, aye," cried Jack; "I've not been ashore now a matter o' ten years, and not larnt a little shore-going politeness, admiral, I ain't been your walley de sham without larning a little about land reckonings. Nobody would take me for a sailor now, I'm thinking, admiral."

      "Hold your noise!"

      "Aye, aye, sir."

      Jack, as he was called, bundled out of the chaise when the door was opened, with a movement so closely resembling what would have ensued had he been dragged out by the collar, that one was tempted almost to believe that such a feat must have been accomplished all at once by some invisible agency.

      He then assisted the old gentleman to alight, and the landlord of the inn commenced the usual profusion of bows with which a passenger by a postchaise is usually welcomed in preference to one by a stage coach.

      "Be quiet, will you!" shouted the admiral, for such indeed he was. "Be quiet."

      "Best accommodation, sir—good wine—well-aired beds—good attendance—fine air—"

      "Belay there," said Jack; and he gave the landlord what no doubt he considered a gentle admonition, but which consisted of such a dig in the ribs, that he made as many evolutions as the clown in a pantomime when he vociferates hot codlings.

      "Now, Jack, where's the sailing instructions?" said his master.

      "Here, sir, in the locker," said Jack, as he took from his pocket a letter, which he handed to the admiral.

      "Won't you step in, sir?" said the landlord, who had begun now to recover a little from the dig in the ribs.

      "What's the use of coming into port and paying harbour dues, and all that sort of thing, till we know if it's the right, you lubber, eh?"

      "No; oh, dear me, sir, of course—God bless me, what can the old gentleman mean?"

      The admiral opened the letter, and read:—

      "If you stop at the Nelson's Aims at Uxotter, you will hear of me, and I can be sent for, when I will tell you more.

      "Yours, very obediently and humbly,

      "JOSIAH CRINKLES."

      "Who the deuce is he?"

      "This is Uxotter, sir," said the landlord; "and here you are, sir, at the Nelson's Arms. Good beds—good wine—good—"

      "Silence!"

      "Yes, sir—oh, of course"

      "Who the devil is Josiah Crinkles?"

      "Ha! ha! ha! ha! Makes me laugh, sir. Who the devil indeed! They do say the devil and lawyers, sir, know something of each other—makes me smile."

      "I'll make you smile on the other side of that d——d great hatchway of a mouth of yours in a minute. Who is Crinkles?"

      "Oh, Mr. Crinkles, sir, everybody knows, most respectable attorney, sir, indeed, highly respectable man, sir."

      "A lawyer?"

      "Yes, sir, a lawyer."

      "Well, I'm d——d!"

      Jack gave a long whistle, and both master and man looked at each other aghast.

      "Now, hang me!" cried the admiral, "if ever I was so taken in in all my life."

      "Ay, ay, sir," said Jack.

      "To come a hundred and seventy miles see a d——d swab of a rascally lawyer."

      "Ay, ay, sir."

      "I'll smash him—Jack!"

      "Yer honour?"

      "Get into the chaise again."

      "Well, but where's Master Charles? Lawyers, in course, sir, is all blessed rogues; but, howsomdever, he may have for once in his life this here one of 'em have told us of the right channel, and if so be as he has, don't be the Yankee to leave him among the pirates. I'm ashamed on you."

      "You infernal scoundrel; how СКАЧАТЬ