Varney the Vampire. James Malcolm Rymer

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СКАЧАТЬ and so he would have been, but for that letter which was written to Admiral Bell, and signed Josiah Crinkles, but which Josiah Crinkles so emphatically denied all knowledge of. Who wrote it, remains at present one of those mysteries which time, in the progress of our narrative, will clear up.

      The opportune, or rather the painful juncture at which Charles Holland had arrived at Bannerworth Hall, we are well cognisant of. Where he expected to find smiles he found tears, and the family with whom he had fondly hoped he should pass a time of uninterrupted happiness, he found plunged in the gloom incidental to an occurrence of the most painful character.

      Our readers will perceive, too, that coming as he did with an utter disbelief in the vampyre, Charles had been compelled, in some measure, to yield to the overwhelming weight of evidence which had been brought to bear upon the subject, and although he could not exactly be said to believe in the existence and the appearance of the vampyre at Bannerworth Hall, he was upon the subject in a most painful state of doubt and indecision.

      Charles now took an opportunity to speak to Henry privately, and inform him exactly how he stood with his uncle, adding—

      "Now, my dear friend, if you forbid me, I will not tell my uncle of this sad affair, but I must own I would rather do so fully and freely, and trust to his own judgment upon it."

      "I implore you to do so," said Henry. "Conceal nothing. Let him know the precise situation and circumstances of the family by all means. There is nothing so mischievous as secrecy: I have the greatest dislike to it. I beg you tell him all."

      "I will; and with it, Henry, I will tell him that my heart is irrevocably Flora's."

      "Your generous clinging to one whom your heart saw and loved, under very different auspices," said Henry, "believe me, Charles, sinks deep into my heart. She has related to me something of a meeting she had with you."

      "Oh, Henry, she may tell you what I said; but there are no words which can express the depth of my tenderness. 'Tis only time which can prove how much I love her."

      "Go to your uncle," said Henry, in a voice of emotion. "God bless you, Charles. It is true you would have been fully justified in leaving my sister; but the nobler and the more generous path you have chosen has endeared you to us all."

      "Where is Flora now?" said Charles.

      "She is in her own room. I have persuaded her, by some occupation, to withdraw her mind from a too close and consequently painful contemplation of the distressing circumstances in which she feels herself placed."

      "You are right. What occupation best pleases her?"

      "The pages of romance once had a charm for her gentle spirit."

      "Then come with me, and, from among the few articles I brought with me here, I can find some papers which may help her to pass some merry hours."

      Charles took Henry to his room, and, unstrapping a small valise, he took from it some manuscript papers, one of which he handed to Henry, saying—

      "Give that to her: it contains an account of a wild adventure, and shows that human nature may suffer much more—and that wrongfully too—than came ever under our present mysterious affliction."

      "I will," said Henry; "and, coming from you, I am sure it will have a more than ordinary value in her eyes."

      "I will now," said Charles, "seek my uncle. I will tell him how I love her; and at the end of my narration, if he should not object, I would fain introduce her to him, that he might himself see that, let what beauty may have met his gaze, her peer he never yet met with, and may in vain hope to do so."

      "You are partial, Charles."

      "Not so. 'Tis true I look upon her with a lover's eyes, but I look still with those of truthful observation."

      "Well, I will speak to her about seeing your uncle, and let you know. No doubt, he will not be at all averse to an interview with any one who stands high in your esteem."

      The young men now separated—Henry, to seek his beautiful sister; and Charles, to communicate to his uncle the strange particulars connected with Varney, the Vampyre.

      CHAPTER XIX.

       Table of Contents

      FLORA IN HER CHAMBER.—HER FEARS.—THE MANUSCRIPT.—AN ADVENTURE.

      Henry found Flora in her chamber. She was in deep thought when he tapped at the door of the room, and such was the state of nervous excitement in which she was that even the demand for admission made by him to the room was sufficient to produce from her a sudden cry of alarm.

      "Who—who is there?" she then said, in accents full of terror.

      "'Tis I, dear Flora," said Henry.

      She opened the door in an instant, and, with a feeling of grateful relief, exclaimed—

      "Oh, Henry, is it only you?"

      "Who did you suppose it was, Flora?"

      She shuddered.

      "I—I—do not know; but I am so foolish now, and so weak-spirited, that the slightest noise is enough to alarm me."

      "You must, dear Flora, fight up, as I had hoped you were doing, against this nervousness."

      "I will endeavour. Did not some strangers come a short time since, brother?"

      "Strangers to us, Flora, but not to Charles Holland. A relative of his—an uncle whom he much respects, has found him out here, and has now come to see him."

      "And to advise him," said Flora, as she sunk into a chair, and wept bitterly; "to advise him, of course, to desert, as he would a pestilence, a vampyre bride."

      "Hush, hush! for the sake of Heaven, never make use of such a phrase, Flora. You know not what a pang it brings to my heart to hear you."

      "Oh, forgive me, brother."

      "Say no more of it, Flora. Heed it not. It may be possible—in fact, it may well be supposed as more than probable—that the relative of Charles Holland may shrink from sanctioning the alliance, but do you rest securely in the possession of the heart which I feel convinced is wholly yours, and which, I am sure, would break ere it surrendered you."

      A smile of joy came across Flora's pale but beautiful face, as she cried—

      "And you, dear brother—you think so much of Charles's faith?"

      "As Heaven is my judge, I do."

      "Then I will bear up with what strength God may give me against all things that seek to depress me; I will not be conquered."

      "You are right, Flora; I rejoice to find in you such a disposition. Here is some manuscript which Charles thinks will amuse СКАЧАТЬ