Penny Dreadful Multipack Vol. 1 (Illustrated. Annotated. 'Wagner The Wehr-Wolf,' 'Varney The Vampire,' 'The Mysteries of London Vol. 1' + Bonus Features) (Penny Dreadful Multipacks) (151 page)

"And
so, after all," said Henry, "we are completely foiled?"

"We
may be," said Dr. Chillingworth; "but it is, perhaps, going too far
to say that we actually are. One thing, however, is quite clear; and that is,
no good can be done here."

"Then
let us go home," said the admiral. "I did not think from the first
that any good would be done here."

They
all left the garden together now; so that almost for the first time,
Bannerworth Hall was left to itself, unguarded and unwatched by any one
whatever. It was with an evident and a marked melancholy that the doctor
proceeded with the party to the cottage-house of the Bannerworths; but, as
after what he had said, Henry forbore to question him further upon those
subjects which he admitted he was keeping secret; and as none of the party were
much in a cue for general conversation, the whole of them walked on with more
silence than usually characterised them.

 

CHAPTER LXXXII

 

CHARLES HOLLAND'S PURSUIT OF THE VAMPYRE.—THE DANGEROUS
INTERVIEW.

 

 

It
will be recollected that the admiral had made a remark about Charles Holland
having suddenly disappeared; and it is for us now to account for that
disappearance and to follow him to the pathway he had chosen.

The
fact was, that he, when Varney fired the shot at the doctor, or what was the
supposed shot, was the farthest from the vampyre; and he, on that very account,
had the clearest and best opportunity of marking which route he took when he
had discharged the pistol.

He
was not confused by the smoke, as the others were; nor was he stunned by the
noise of the discharge; but he distinctly saw Varney dart across one of the
garden beds, and make for the summer-house, instead of for the garden gate, as
Henry had supposed was the most probable path he had chosen.

Now,
Charles Holland either had an inclination, for some reasons of his own, to
follow the vampyre alone; or, on the spur of the moment, he had not time to
give an alarm to the others; but certain it is that he did, unaided, rush after
him. He saw him enter the summer-house, and pass out of it again at the back
portion of it, as he had once before done, when surprised in his interview with
Flora.

But
the vampyre did not now, as he had done on the former occasion, hide
immediately behind the summer-house. He seemed to be well aware that that
expedient would not answer twice; so he at once sped onwards, clearing the
garden fence, and taking to the meadows.

It
formed evidently no part of the intentions of Charles Holland to come up with
him. He was resolved upon dogging his footsteps, to know where he should go; so
that he might have a knowledge of his hiding-place, if he had one.

"I
must and will," said Charles to himself, "penetrate the mystery that
hangs about this most strange and inexplicable being. I will have an interview
with him, not in hostility, for I forgive him the evil he has done me, but with
a kindly spirit; and I will ask him to confide in me."

Charles,
therefore, did not keep so close upon the heels of the vampyre as to excite any
suspicions of his intention to follow him; but he waited by the garden paling
long enough not only for Varney to get some distance off, but long enough
likewise to know that the pistol which had been fired at the doctor had
produced no real bad effects, except singing some curious tufts of hair upon
the sides of his face, which the doctor was pleased to call whiskers.

"I
thought as much," was Charles's exclamation when he heard the doctor's voice.
"It would have been strikingly at variance with all Varney's other
conduct, if he had committed such a deliberate and heartless murder."

Then,
as the form of the vampyre could be but dimly seen, Charles ran on for some
distance in the direction he had taken, and then paused again; so that if
Varney heard the sound of footsteps, and paused to listen they had ceased again
probably, and nothing was discernible.

In
this manner he followed the mysterious individual, if we may really call him
such, for above a mile; and then Varney made a rapid detour, and took his way
towards the town.

He
went onwards with wonderful precision now in a right line, not stopping at any
obstruction, in the way of fences, hedges, or ditches, so that it took Charles
some exertion, to which, just then, he was scarcely equal, to keep up with him.

At
length the outskirts of the town were gained, and then Varney paused, and
looked around him, scarcely allowing Charles, who was now closer to him than he
had been, time to hide himself from observation, which, however, he did
accomplish, by casting himself suddenly upon the ground, so that he could not
be detected against the sky, which then formed a back ground to the spot where
he was.

Apparently
satisfied that he had completely now eluded the pursuit, if any had been
attempted, of those whom he had led in such a state of confusion, the vampyre
walked hastily towards a house that was to let, and which was only to be
reached by going up an avenue of trees, and then unlocking a gate in a wall
which bounded the premises next to the avenue. But the vampyre appeared to be
possessed of every facility for effecting an entrance to the place and,
producing from his pocket a key, he at once opened the gate, and disappeared
within the precincts of those premises.

He,
no doubt, felt that he was hunted by the mob of the town, and hence his
frequent change of residence, since his own had been burnt down, and, indeed,
situated as he was, there can be no manner of doubt that he would have been
sacrificed to the superstitious fury of the populace, if they could but have
got hold of him.

He
had, from his knowledge, which was no doubt accurate and complete, of what had
been done, a good idea of what his own fate would be, were he to fall into the
hands of that ferocious multitude, each individual composing which, felt a
conviction that there would be no peace, nor hope of prosperity or happiness,
on the place, until he, the arch vampyre of all the supposed vampyres, was
destroyed.

Charles
did pause for a few moments, after having thus become roused, to consider
whether he should then attempt to have the interview he had resolved upon
having by some means or another, or defer it, now that he knew where Varney was
to be found, until another time.

But
when he came to consider how extremely likely it was that, even in the course
of a few hours, Varney might shift his abode for some good and substantial
reasons, he at once determined upon attempting to see him.

But
how to accomplish such a purpose was not the easiest question in the world to
answer. If he rung the bell that presented itself above the garden gate, was it
at all likely that Varney, who had come there for concealment, would pay any
attention to the summons?

After
some consideration, he did, however, think of a plan by which, at all events,
he could ensure effecting an entrance into the premises, and then he would take
his chance of finding the mysterious being whom he sought, and who probably
might have no particular objection to meeting with him, Charles Holland,
because their last interview in the ruins could not be said to be otherwise
than of a peaceable and calm enough character.

He
saw by the board, which was nailed in the front of the house, that all
applications to see it were to be made to a Mr. Nash, residing close at hand;
and, as Charles had the appearance of a respectable person, he thought he might
possibly have the key entrusted to him, ostensibly to look at the house,
preparatory possibly to taking it, and so he should, at all events, obtain admission.

He,
accordingly, went at once to this Mr. Nash, and asked about the house; of
course he had to affect an interest in its rental and accommodations, which he
did not feel, in order to lull any suspicion, and, finally, he said,—

"I
should like to look over it if you will lend me the key, which I will shortly
bring back to you."

There
was an evident hesitation about the agent when this proposal was communicated
by Charles Holland, and he said,—

"I
dare say, sir, you wonder that I don't say yes, at once; but the fact is there
came a gentleman here one day when I was out, and got a key, for we have two to
open the house, from my wife, and he never came back again."

That
this was the means by which Varney, the vampyre, had obtained the key, by the
aid of which Charles had seen him effect so immediate an entrance to the house,
there could be no doubt.

"How
long ago were you served that trick?" he said.

"About
two days ago, sir."

"Well,
it only shows how, when one person acts wrongly, another is at once suspected
of a capability to do so likewise. There is my name and my address; I should
like rather to go alone to see the house, because I always fancy I can judge
better by myself of the accommodation, and I can stay as long as I like, and
ascertain the sizes of all the rooms without the disagreeable feeling upon my
mind, which no amount of complaisance on your part, could ever get me over,
that I was most unaccountably detaining somebody from more important business
of their own."

"Oh,
I assure you, sir," said Mr. Nash, "that I should not be at all
impatient. But if you would rather go alone—"

"Indeed
I would."

"Oh,
then, sir, there is the key. A gentleman who leaves his name and address, of
course, we can have no objection to. I only told you of what happened, sir, in
the mere way of conversation, and I hope you won't imagine for a moment that I
meant to insinuate that you were going to keep the key."

"Oh,
certainly not—certainly not," said Charles, who was only too glad to get
the key upon any terms. "You are quite right, and I beg you will say no
more about it; I quite understand."

He
then walked off to the empty house again, and, proceeding to the avenue, he
fitted the key to the lock, and had the satisfaction of finding the gate
instantly yield to him.

When
he passed through it, and closed the door after him, which he did carefully, he
found himself in a handsomely laid-out garden, and saw the house a short
distance in front of him, standing upon a well got-up lawn.

He
cared not if Varney should see him before he reached the house, because the
fact was sufficiently evident to himself that after all he could not actually
enforce an interview with the vampyre. He only hoped that as he had found him
out it would be conceded to him.

He,
therefore, walked up the lawn without making the least attempt at concealment,
and when he reached the house he allowed his footsteps to make what noise they
would upon the stone steps which led up to it. But no one appeared; nor was
there, either by sight or by sound, any indication of the presence of any
living being in the place besides himself.

Insensibly,
as he contemplated the deserted place around him, the solemn sort of stillness
began to have its effect upon his imagination, and, without being aware that he
did so, he had, with softness and caution, glided onwards, as if he were bent
on some errand requiring the utmost amount of caution and discrimination in the
conduction of it.

And
so he entered the hall of the house, where he stood some time, and listened
with the greatest attention, without, however, being able to hear the least
sound throughout the whole of the house.

"And
yet he must be here," thought Charles to himself; "I was not gone
many minutes, and it is extremely unlikely that in so short a space of time he
has left, after taking so much trouble, by making such a detour around the
meadows to get here, without being observed. I will examine every room in the
place, but I will find him."

Charles
immediately commenced going from room to room of that house in his search for
the vampyre. There were but four apartments upon the ground floor, and these,
of course, he quickly ran through. Nothing whatever at all indicative of any
one having been there met his gaze, and with a feeling of disappointment
creeping over him, he commenced the ascent of the staircase.

The
day had now fairly commenced, so that there was abundance of light, although,
even for the country, it was an early hour, and probably Mr. Nash had been not
a little surprised to have a call from one whose appearance bespoke no
necessity for rising with the lark at such an hour.

All
these considerations, however, sank into insignificance in Charles's mind,
compared with the object he had in view, namely, the unravelling the many
mysteries that hung around that man. He ascended to the landing of the first
story, and then, as he could have no choice, he opened the first door that his
eyes fell upon, and entered a tolerably large apartment. It was quite destitute
of furniture, and at the moment Charles was about to pronounce it empty; but
then his eyes fell upon a large black-looking bundle of something, that seemed
to be lying jammed up under the window on the floor—that being the place of all
others in the room which was enveloped in the most shadow.

He
started back involuntarily at the moment, for the appearance was one so
shapeless, that there was no such thing as defining, from even that distance,
what it really was.

Then
he slowly and cautiously approached it, as we always approach that of the
character of which we are ignorant, and concerning the powers of which to do
injury we can consequently have no defined idea.

That
it was a human form there, was the first tangible opinion he had about it; and
from its profound stillness, and the manner in which it seemed to be laid close
under the window, he thought that he was surely upon the point of finding out
that some deed of blood had been committed, the unfortunate victim of which was
now lying before him.

Upon
a nearer examination, he found that the whole body, including the greater part
of the head and face, was wrapped in a large cloak; and there, as he gazed, he
soon found cause to correct his first opinion at to the form belonging to the
dead, for he could distinctly hear the regular breathing, as of some one in a
sound and dreamless sleep.

Other books

Coming Home by Amy Robyn
Stone in Love by Cadence, Brook
Dirty Sexy Politics by Meghan McCain
Tangled in Chains by SavaStorm Savage
Dirty Little Lies by Julie Leto
Extinct by Ike Hamill