Authors: George W. M. Reynolds,James Malcolm Rymer
"At
length I heard the sound of wheels. I found that my friend the hangman had
procured a cart, in which he brought the coffin, that being a much quicker mode
of conveyance than by bearers so that about a quarter past nine o'clock the
vehicle, with its ghastly content, stopped at the door of his house.
"In
my impatience I ran down stairs to meet that which ninety-nine men out of a
hundred would have gone some distance to avoid the sight of, namely, a corpse,
livid and fresh from the gallows. I, however, heralded it as a great gift, and
already, in imagination I saw myself imitating the learned Frenchman, who had
published such an elaborate treatise on the mode of restoring life under all
sorts of circumstances, to those who were already pronounced by unscientific
persons to be dead.
"To
be sure, a sort of feeling had come over me at times, knowing as I did that the
French are a nation that do not scruple at all to sacrifice truth on the altar
of vanity, that it might be after all a mere rhodomontade; but, however, I
could only ascertain so much by actually trying, so the suspicion that such
might, by a possibility, be the end of the adventure, did not deter me.
"I
officiously assisted in having the coffin brought into the room where I had
prepared everything that was necessary in the conduction of my grand
experiment; and then, when no one was there with me but my friend the
executioner, I, with his help, the one of us taking the head and the other the
feet, took the body from the coffin and laid it upon a table.
"Hastily
I placed my hand upon the region of the heart, and to my great delight I found
it still warm. I drew off the cap that covered the face, and then, for the
first time, my eyes rested upon the countenance of him who now calls
himself—Heaven only knows why—Sir Francis Varney."
"Good
God!" said Henry, "are you certain?"
"Quite."
"It
may have been some other rascal like him," said the admiral.
"No,
I am quite sure now; I have, as I have before mentioned to you, tried to get
out of my own conviction upon the subject, but I have been actually assured
that he is the man by the very hangman himself."
"Go
on, go on! Your tale certainly is a strange one, and I do not say it either to
compliment you or to cast a doubt upon you, but, except from the lips of an
old, and valued friend, such as you yourself are, I should not believe it.'
"I
am not surprised to hear you say that," replied the doctor; "nor
should I be offended even now if you were to entertain a belief that I might,
after all, be mistaken."
"No,
no; you would not be so positive upon the subject, I well know, if there was
the slightest possibility of an error."
"Indeed
I should not."
"Let
us have the sequel, then."
"It
is this. I was most anxious to effect an immediate resuscitation, if it were
possible, of the hanged man. A little manipulation soon convinced me that the
neck was not broken, which left me at once every thing to hope for. The hangman
was more prudent than I was, and before I commenced my experiments, he said,—
"'Doctor,
have you duly considered what you mean to do with this fellow, in case you
should be successful in restoring him to life?'
"'Not
I,' said I.
"'Well,'
he said, 'you can do as you like; but I consider that it is really worth
thinking of.'
"I
was headstrong on the matter, and could think of nothing but the success or the
non-success, in a physiological point of view, of my plan for restoring the
dead to life; so I set about my experiments without any delay, and with a
completeness and a vigour that promised the most completely successful results,
if success could at all be an ingredient in what sober judgment would doubtless
have denominated a mad-headed and wild scheme.
"For
more than half an hour I tried in vain, by the assistance of the hangman, who
acted under my directions. Not the least symptom of vitality presented itself;
and he had a smile upon his countenance, as he said in a bantering tone,—
"'I
am afraid, sir, it is much easier to kill than to restore their patients with
doctors.'
"Before
I could make him any reply, for I felt that his observation had a good amount
of truth in it, joined to its sarcasm the hanged man uttered a loud scream, and
opened his eyes.
"I
must own I was myself rather startled; but I for some moments longer continued
the same means which had produced such an effect, when suddenly he sprang up
and laid hold of me, at the same time exclaiming,—
"'Death,
death, where is the treasure?'
"I
had fully succeeded—too fully; and while the executioner looked on with horror
depicted in his countenance, I fled from the room and the house, taking my way
home as fast as I possibly could.
"A
dread came over me, that the restored man would follow me if he should find
out, to whom it was he was indebted for the rather questionable boon of a new
life. I packed up what articles I set the greatest store by, bade adieu to
London, and never have I since set foot within that city."
"And
you never met the man you had so resuscitated?"
"Not
till I saw Varney, the vampyre; and, as I tell you, I am now certain that he is
the man."
"That
is the strangest yarn that ever I heard," said the admiral.
"A
most singular circumstance," said Henry.
"You
may have noticed about his countenance," said Dr. Chillingworth, "a strange
distorted look?"
"Yes,
yes."
"Well,
that has arisen from a spasmodic contraction of the muscles, in consequence of
his having been hanged. He will never lose it, and it has not a little
contributed to give him the horrible look he has, and to invest him with some
of the seeming outward attributes of the vampyre."
"And
that man who is now in the hall with him, doctor," said Henry, "is
the very hangman who executed him?"
"The
same. He tells me that after I left, he paid attention to the restored man, and
completed what I had nearly done. He kept him in his house for a time, and then
made a bargain with him, for a large sum of money per annum, all of which he
has regularly been paid, although he tells me he has no more idea where Varney
gets it, than the man in the moon."
"It
is very strange; but, hark! do you not hear the sound of voices in angry
altercation?"
"Yes,
yes, they have met. Let us approach the windows now. We may chance to hear
something of what they say to each other."
THE ALTERCATION BETWEEN VARNEY AND THE EXECUTIONER IN THE
HALL.—THE MUTUAL AGREEMENT.
There
was certainly a loud wrangling in the Hall, just as the doctor finished his
most remarkable revelation concerning Sir Francis Varney, a revelation which by
no means attacked the fact of his being a vampyre or not; but rather on the
contrary, had a tendency to confirm any opinion that might arise from the
circumstance of his being restored to life after his execution, favourable to
that belief.
They
all three now carefully approached the windows of the Hall, to listen to what
was going on, and after a few moments they distinctly heard the voice of the
hangman, saying in loud and rather angry accents,—
"I
do not deny but that you have kept your word with me—our bargain has been, as
you say, a profitable one: but, still I cannot see why that circumstance should
give you any sort of control over my actions."
"But
what do you here?" said Varney, impatiently.
"What
do you?" cried the other.
"Nay,
to ask another question, is not to answer mine. I tell you that I have special
and most important business in this house; you can have no motive but
curiosity."
"Can
I not, indeed? What, too, if I have serious and important business here?"
"Impossible."
"Well,
I may as easily use such a term as regards what you call important business,
but here I shall remain."
"Here
you shall not remain."
"And
will you make the somewhat hazardous attempt to force me to leave?"
"Yes,
much as I dislike lifting my hand against you, I must do so; I tell you that I
must be alone in this house. I have most special reasons—reasons which concern
my continued existence.
"Your
continued existence you talk of.—Tell me, now, how is it that you have acquired
so frightful a reputation in this neighbourhood? Go where I will, the theme of
conversation is Varney, the vampyre! and it is implicitly believed that you are
one of those dreadful characters that feed upon the life-blood of others, only
now and then revisiting the tomb to which you ought long since to have gone in
peace."
"Indeed!"
"Yes;
what, in the name of all that's inexplicable, has induced you to enact such a
character?"
"Enact
it! you say. Can you, then, from all you have heard of me, and from all you
know of me, not conceive it possible that I am not enacting any such character?
Why may it not be real? Look at me. Do I look like one of the inhabitants of
the earth?"
"In
sooth, you do not."
"And
yet I am, as you see, upon it. Do not, with an affected philosophy, doubt all
that may happen to be in any degree repugnant to your usual experiences."
"I
am not one disposed to do so; nor am I prepared to deny that such dreadful
beings may exist as vampyres. However, whether or not you belong to so
frightful a class of creatures, I do not intend to leave here; but, I will make
an agreement with you."
Varney
was silent; and after a few moments' pause, the other exclaimed,—
"There
are people, even now, watching the place, and no doubt you have been seen
coming into it."
"No,
no, I was satisfied no one was here but you."
"Then
you are wrong. A Doctor Chillingworth, of whom you know something, is here; and
him, you have said, you would do no harm to, even to save your life."
"I
do know him. You told me that it was to him that I was mainly indebted for my
mere existence; and although I do not consider human life to be a great boon, I
cannot bring myself to raise my hand against the man who, whatever might have
been the motives for the deed, at all events, did snatch me from the
grave."
"Upon
my word," whispered the admiral, "there is something about that
fellow that I like, after all."
"Hush!"
said Henry, "listen to them. This would all have been unintelligible to
us, if you had not related to us what you have."
"I
have just told you in time," said Chillingworth, "it seems."
"Will
you, then," said the hangman, "listen to proposals?"
"Yes,"
said Varney.
"Come
along, then, and I will show you what I have been about; and I rather think you
have already a shrewd guess as to my motive. This way—this way."
They
moved off to some other part of the mansion, and the sound of their voices
gradually died away, so that after all, the friends had not got the least idea
of what that motive was, which still induced the vampyre and the hangman,
rather than leave the other on the premises, to make an agreement to stay with
each other.
"What's
to be done now?" said Henry.
"Wait,"
said Dr. Chillingworth, "wait, and watch still. I see nothing else that
can be done with any degree of safety."
"But
what are we to wait for?" said the admiral.
"By
waiting, we shall, perhaps, find out," was the doctor's reply; "but
you may depend that we never shall by interfering."
"Well,
well, be it so. It seems that we have no other resource. And when either or
both of those fellows make their appearance, and seem about to leave, what is
to be done with them?"
"They
must be seized then, and in order that that may be done without any bloodshed,
we ought to have plenty of force here. Henry, could you get your brother, and
Charles, if he be sufficiently recovered, to come?"
"Certainly,
and Jack Pringle."
"No,"
said the admiral, "no Jack Pringle for me; I have done with him
completely, and I have made up my mind to strike him off the ship's books, and
have nothing more to do with him."
"Well,
well," added the doctor, "we will not have him, then; and it is just
as well, for, in all likelihood, he would come drunk, and we shall be—let me
see—five strong without him, which ought to be enough to take prisoners two
men."
"Yes,"
said Henry, "although one of them may be a vampyre."
"That
makes no difference," said the admiral. "I'd as soon take a ship
manned with vampyres as with Frenchmen."
Henry
started off upon his errand, certainly leaving the admiral and the doctor in
rather a critical situation while he was gone; for had Varney the vampyre and
the hangman chosen, they could certainly easily have overcome so inefficient a
force.
The
admiral would, of course, have fought, and so might the doctor, as far as his
hands would permit him; but if the others had really been intent upon mischief,
they could, from their downright superior physical power, have taken the lives
of the two that were opposed to them.
But
somehow the doctor appeared to have a great confidence in the affair. Whether
that confidence arose from what the vampyre had said with regard to him, or
from any hidden conviction of his own that they would not yet emerge from the
Hall, we cannot say; but certain it is, he waited the course of events with
great coolness.
No
noise for some time came from the house; but then the sounds, as if workmen
were busy within it, were suddenly resumed, and with more vigour than before.
It
was nearly two hours before Henry made the private signal which had been agreed
upon as that which should proclaim his return; and then he and his brother,
with Charles, who, when he heard of the matter, would, notwithstanding the
persuasions of Flora to the contrary, come, got quietly over the fence at a
part of the garden which was quite hidden from the house by abundant
vegetation, and the whole three of them took up a position that tolerably well
commanded a view of the house, while they were themselves extremely well hidden
behind a dense mass of evergreens.
"Did
you see that rascal, Jack Pringle?" said the admiral.
"Yes,"
said Henry; "he is drunk."
"Ah,
to be sure."
"And
we had no little difficulty in shaking him off. He suspected where we were
going; but I think, by being peremptory, we got fairly rid of him."
"The
vagabond! if he comes here, I'll brain him, I will, the swab. Why, lately he's
done nothing but drink. That's the way with him. He'll go on sometimes for a
year and more, and not take more than enough to do him good, and then all at
once, for about six or eight weeks, he does nothing but drink."
"Well,
well, we can do without him," said Henry.
"Without
him! I should think so. Do you hear those fellows in the Hall at work? D—n me,
if I haven't all of a sudden thought what the reason of it all is."
"What—what?"
said the doctor, anxiously.
"Why,
that rascal Varney, you know, had his house burnt down."
"Yes;
well?"
"Yes,
well. I dare say he didn't think it well. But, however, he no doubt wants
another; so, you see, my idea is, that he's stealing the material from
Bannerworth Hall."
"Oh,
is that your notion?"
"Yes,
and a very natural one, I think, too, Master Doctor, whatever you may think of
it. Come, now, have you a better?"
"Oh,
dear, no, certainly not; but I have a notion that something to eat would
comfort the inward man much."
"And
so would something to drink, blow me if it wouldn't," said Jack Pringle,
suddenly making his appearance.
The
admiral made a rush upon him; but he was restrained by the others, and Jack,
with a look of triumph, said,—
"Why,
what's amiss with you now? I ain't drunk now. Come, come, you have something
dangerous in the wind, I know, so I've made up my mind to be in it, so don't
put yourself out of the way. If you think I don't know all about it, you are
mistaken, for I do. The vampyre is in the house yonder, and I'm the fellow to
tackle him, I believe you, my boys."
"Good
God!" said the doctor, "what shall we do?"
"Nothing,"
said Jack, as he took a bottle from his pocket and applied the neck of it to
his lips—"nothing—nothing at all."
"There's
something to begin with," said the admiral, as with his stick he gave the
bottle a sudden blow that broke it and spilt all its contents, leaving Jack
petrified, with the bit of the neck of it still in his mouth.
"My
eye, admiral," he said, "was that done like a British seaman? My
eye—was that the trick of a lubber, or of a thorough-going first-rater?
first-rater? My eye—"
"Hold
your noise, will you; you are not drunk yet, and I was determined that you
should not get so, which you soon would with that rum-bottle, if I had not come
with a broadside across it. Now you may stay; but, mark me, you are on active
service now, and must do nothing without orders."
"Ay,
ay, your honour," said Jack, as he dropped the neck of the bottle, and
looked ruefully upon the ground, from whence arose the aroma of rum—"ay,
ay; but it's a hard case, take it how you will, to have your grog stopped; but,
d—n it, I never had it stopped yet when it was in my mouth."
Henry
and Charles could not forbear a smile at Jack's discomfiture, which, however,
they were very glad of, for they knew full well his failing, and that in the
course of another half hour he would have been drunk, and incapable of being
controlled, except, as on some former occasions, by the exercise of brute
force.
But
Jack was evidently displeased, and considered himself to be grievously
insulted, which, after all, was the better, inasmuch as, while he was brooding
over his wrongs, he was quiet; when, otherwise, it might have been a very
difficult matter to make him so.
They
partook of some refreshments, and, as the day advanced, the brothers Bannerworth,
as well as Charles Holland, began to get very anxious upon the subject of the
proceedings of Sir Francis Varney in the Hall.
They
conversed in low tones, exhausting every, as they considered, possible
conjecture to endeavour to account for his mysterious predilection for that
abode, but nothing occurred to them of a sufficiently probable motive to induce
them to adopt it as a conclusion.
They
more than suspected Dr. Chillingworth, because he was so silent, and hazarded
no conjecture at all of knowing something, or of having formed to himself some
highly probable hypothesis upon the subject; but they could not get him to
agree that such was the case.
When
they challenged him upon the subject, all he would say was,—
"My
good friends, you perceive that, there is a great mystery somewhere, and I do
hope that to-night it will be cleared up satisfactorily."
With
this they were compelled to be satisfied; and now the soft and sombre shades of
evening began to creep over the scene, enveloping all objects in the dimness
and repose of early night.
The
noise from the house had ceased, and all was profoundly still. But more than
once Henry fancied he heard footsteps outside the garden.
He
mentioned his suspicions to Charles Holland, who immediately said,—