Varney the Vampire. James Malcolm Rymer

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      "Oh, nonsense!"

      "How should you like to be called a vampyre, and stared at as if you were some hideous natural phenomenon?"

      "Well, but—"

      "I say, Admiral Bell, how should you like it? I am a harmless country gentleman, and because, in the heated imaginations of some member of a crack-brained family, some housebreaker has been converted into a vampyre, I am to be pitched upon as the man, and insulted and persecuted accordingly."

      "But you forget the proofs."

      "What proofs?"

      "The portrait, for one."

      "What! Because there is an accidental likeness between me and an old picture, am I to be set down as a vampyre? Why, when I was in Austria last, I saw an old portrait of a celebrated court fool, and you so strongly resemble it, that I was quite struck when I first saw you with the likeness; but I was not so unpolite as to tell you that I considered you were the court fool turned vampyre."

      "D—n your assurance!"

      "And d—n yours, if you come to that."

      The admiral was fairly beaten. Sir Francis Varney was by far too long-headed and witty for him. After now in vain endeavouring to find something to say, the old man buttoned up his coat in a great passion, and looking fiercely at Varney, he said—"I don't pretend to a gift of the gab. D—n me, it ain't one of my peculiarities; but though you may talk me down, you sha'n't keep me down."

      "Very good, sir."

      "It is not very good. You shall hear from me."

      "I am willing."

      "I don't care whether you are willing or not. You shall find that when once I begin to tackle an enemy, I don't so easily leave him. One or both of us, sir, is sure to sink."

      "Agreed."

      "So say I. You shall find that I'm a tar for all weathers, and if you were a hundred and fifty vampires all rolled into one, I'd tackle you somehow."

      The admiral walked to the door in high dudgeon; when he was near to it, Varney said, in some of his most winning and gentle accents—

      "Will you not take some refreshment, sir before you go from my humble house?"

      "No!" roared the admiral.

      "Something cooling?"

      "No!"

      "Very good, sir. A hospitable host can do no more than offer to entertain his guests."

      Admiral Bell turned at the door, and said, with some degree of intense bitterness,

      "You look rather poorly. I suppose, to-night, you will go and suck somebody's blood, you shark—you confounded vampyre! You ought to be made to swallow a red-hot brick, and then let dance about till it digests."

      Varney smiled as he rang the bell, and said to a servant—

      "Show my very excellent friend Admiral Bell out. He will not take any refreshments."

      The servant bowed, and preceded the admiral down the staircase; but, to his great surprise, instead of a compliment in the shape of a shilling or half-a-crown for his pains, he received a tremendous kick behind, with a request to go and take it to his master, with his compliments.

      The fume that the old admiral was in beggars all description. He walked to Bannerworth Hall at such a rapid pace, that Jack Pringle had the greatest difficulty in the world to keep up with him, so as to be at all within speaking distance.

      "Hilloa, Jack," cried the old man, when they were close to the Hall. "Did you see me kick that fellow?"

      "Ay, ay, sir."

      "Well, that's some consolation, at any rate, if somebody saw it. It ought to have been his master, that's all I can say to it, and I wish it had."

      "How have you settled it, sir?"

      "Settled what?"

      "The fight, sir."

      "D—n me, Jack, I haven't settled it at all."

      "That's bad, sir."

      "I know it is; but it shall be settled for all that, I can tell him, let him vapour as much as he may about pinking me, and one thing and another."

      "Pinking you, sir?"

      "Yes. He wants to fight with cutlasses, or toasting-forks, d—n me, I don't know exactly which, and then he must have a surgeon on the ground, for fear when he pinks me I shouldn't slip my cable in a regular way, and he should be blamed."

      Jack gave a long whistle, as he replied—

      "Going to do it, sir?"

      "I don't know now what I'm going to do. Mind, Jack, mum is the word."

      "Ay, ay, sir."

      "I'll turn the matter over in my mind, and then decide upon what had best be done. If he pinks me, I'll take d——d good care he don't pink Charles."

      "No, sir, don't let him do that. A wamphigher, sir, ain't no good opponent to anybody. I never seed one afore, but it strikes me as the best way to settle him, would be to shut him up in some little bit of a cabin, and then smoke him with brimstone, sir."

      "Well, well, I'll consider, Jack, I'll consider. Something must be done, and that quickly too. Zounds, here's Charles—what the deuce shall I say to him, by way of an excuse, I wonder, for not arranging his affair with Varney? Hang me, if I ain't taken aback now, and don't know where to place a hand."

      CHAPTER XXIV.

       Table of Contents

      THE LETTER TO CHARLES.—THE QUARREL.—THE ADMIRAL'S NARRATIVE.—THE MIDNIGHT MEETING.

      It was Charles Holland who now advanced hurriedly to meet the admiral. The young man's manner was anxious. He was evidently most intent upon knowing what answer could be sent by Sir Francis Varney to his challenge.

      "Uncle," he said, "tell me at once, will he meet me? You can talk of particulars afterwards, but now tell me at once if he will meet me?"

      "Why, as to that," said the admiral, with a great deal of fidgetty hesitation, "you see, I can't exactly say."

      "Not say!"

      "No. He's a very odd fish. Don't you think he's a very odd fish, Jack Pringle'?"

      "Ay, ay, sir."

      "There, СКАЧАТЬ