Varney the Vampire. James Malcolm Rymer

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      It was, perhaps, very natural that, with her feelings towards Charles Holland, Flora should shrink from every one who seemed to be of a directly contrary impression, and when Mr. Marchdale now spoke, she showed but little inclination to hear what he had to say in explanation.

      The genuine and unaffected manner, however, in which he spoke, could not but have its effect upon her, and she found herself compelled to listen, as well as, to a great extent, approve of the sentiments that fell from his lips.

      "Flora," he said, "I beg that you will here, in the presence of your mother, give me a patient hearing. You fancy that, because I cannot join so glibly as the admiral in believing that these letters are forgeries, I must be your enemy."

      "Those letters," said Flora, "were not written by Charles Holland."

      "That is your opinion."

      "It is more than an opinion. He could not write them."

      "Well, then, of course, if I felt inclined, which Heaven alone knows I do not, I could not hope successfully to argue against such a conviction. But I do not wish to do so. All I want to impress upon you is, that I am not to be blamed for doubting his innocence; and, at the same time, I wish to assure you that no one in this house would feel more exquisite satisfaction than I in seeing it established."

      "I thank you for so much," said Flora; "but as, to my mind, his innocence has never been doubted, it needs to me no establishing."

      "Very good. You believe these letters forgeries?"

      "I do."

      "And that the disappearance of Charles Holland is enforced, and not of his own free will?"

      "I do."

      "Then you may rely upon my unremitting exertions night and day to find him and any suggestion you can make, which is likely to aid in the search, shall, I pledge myself, be fully carried out."

      "I thank you, Mr. Marchdale."

      "My dear," said the mother, "rely on Mr. Marchdale."

      "I will rely on any one who believe Charles Holland innocent of writing those odious letters, mother—I rely upon the admiral. He will aid me heart and hand."

      "And so will Mr. Marchdale."

      "I am glad to hear it."

      "And yet doubt it, Flora," said Marchdale, dejectedly. "I am very sorry that such should be the case; I will not, however, trouble you any further, nor, give me leave to assure you, will I relax in my honest endeavours to clear up this mystery."

      So saying, Mr. Marchdale bowed, and left the room, apparently more vexed than he cared to express at the misconstruction which had been put upon his conduct and motives. He at once sought Henry and the admiral, to whom he expressed his most earnest desire to aid in attempting to unravel the mysterious circumstances which had occurred.

      "This strongly-expressed opinion of Flora," he remarked, "is of course amply sufficient to induce us to pause before we say one word more that shall in any way sound like a condemnation of Mr. Holland. Heaven forbid that I should."

      "No," said the admiral; "don't."

      "I do not intend."

      "I would not advise anybody."

      "Sir, if you use that as a threat—"

      "A threat?"

      "Yes; I must say, it sounded marvellously like one."

      "Oh, dear, no—quite a mistake. I consider that every man has a fair right to the enjoyment of his opinion. All I have to remark is, that I shall, after what has occurred, feel myself called upon to fight anybody who says those letters were written by my nephew."

      "Indeed, sir!"

      "Ah, indeed."

      "You will permit me to say such is a strange mode of allowing every one the free enjoyment of his opinion."

      "Not at all."

      "Whatever pains and penalties may be the result, Admiral Bell, of differing with so infallible authority as yourself, I shall do so whenever my judgment induces me."

      "You will?"

      "Indeed I will."

      "Very good. You know the consequences."

      "As to fighting you, I should refuse to do so."

      "Refuse?"

      "Yes; most certainly."

      "Upon what ground?"

      "Upon the ground that you were a madman."

      "Come," now interposed Henry, "let me hope that, for my sake as well as for Flora's, this dispute will proceed no further."

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