Authors: George W. M. Reynolds,James Malcolm Rymer
"After
all," said Flora, "Mrs. Chillingworth, although she is not the most
refined person in the world, is to be pitied."
"What!"
cried the admiral; "Miss Doll's-eyes, are you taking her part?"
"Oh,
that's nothing. She may call me what she likes."
"I
believe she is a good wife to the doctor," said Henry,
"notwithstanding his little eccentricities; but suppose we now at once
make the proposal we were thinking of to Sir Francis Varney, and so get him to
leave England as quickly as possible and put an end to the possibility of his
being any more trouble to anybody."
"Agreed—agreed.
It's the best thing that can be done, and it will be something gained to get
his consent at once."
"I'll
run up stairs to him," said Charles, "and call him down at once. I
scarcely doubt for a moment his acquiescence in the proposal."
Charles
Holland rose, and ran up the little staircase of the cottage to the room which,
by the kindness of the Bannerworth family, had been devoted to the use of Varney.
He had not been gone above two minutes, when he returned, hastily, with a small
scrap of paper in his hand, which he laid before Henry, saying,—
"There,
what think you of that?"
Henry,
upon taking up the paper, saw written upon it the words,—
"
The
Farewell of Varney the Vampyre
."
"He
is gone," said Charles Holland. "The room is vacant. I saw at a
glance that he had removed his hat, and cloak, and all that belonged to him.
He's off, and at so short a warning, and in so abrupt a manner, that I fear the
worst."
"What
can you fear?"
"I
scarcely know what; but we have a right to fear everything and anything from
his most inexplicable being, whose whole conduct has been of that mysterious
nature, as to put him past all calculation as regards his motives, his objects,
or his actions. I must confess that I would have hailed his departure from
England with feelings of satisfaction; but what he means now, by this strange
manoeuvre, Heaven, and his own singular intellect, can alone divine."
"I
must confess," said Flora, "I should not at all have thought this of
Varney. It seems to me as if something new must have occurred to him.
Altogether, I do not feel any alarm concerning his actions as regards us. I am
convinced of his sincerity, and, therefore, do not view with sensations of
uneasiness this new circumstance, which appears at present so inexplicable, but
for which we may yet get some explanation that will be satisfactory to us
all."
"I
cannot conceive," said Henry, "what new circumstances could have
occurred to produce this effect upon Varney. Things remain just as they were;
and, after all, situated as he is, if any change had taken place in matters out
of doors, I do not see how he could become acquainted with them, so that his
leaving must have been a matter of mere calculation, or of impulse at the
moment—Heaven knows which—but can have nothing to do with actual information,
because it is quite evident he could not get it."
"It
is rather strange," said Charles Holland, "that just as we were
speculating upon the probability of his doing something of this sort, he should
suddenly do it, and in this singular manner too."
"Oh,"
said the old admiral, "I told you I saw his eye, that was enough for me. I
knew he would do something, as well as I know a mainmast from a chain cable. He
can't help it; it's in the nature of the beast, and that's all you can say
about it."
THE MISADVENTURE OF THE DOCTOR WITH THE PICTURE.
The
situation of Dr. Chillingworth and Jack Pringle was not of that character that
permitted much conversation or even congratulation. They were victors it was
true, and yet they had but little to boast of besides the victory.
Victory
is a great thing; it is like a gilded coat, it bewilders and dazzles. Nobody
can say much when you are victorious. What a sound! and yet how much misery is
there not hidden beneath it.
This
victory of the worthy doctor and his aid amounted to this, they were as they
were before, without being any better, but much the worse, seeing they were so
much buffetted that they could hardly speak, but sat for some moments opposite
to each other, gasping for breath, and staring each other in the face without
speaking.
The
moonlight came in through the window and fell upon the floor, and there were no
sounds that came to disturb the stillness of the scene, nor any object that
moved to cast a shadow upon the floor. All was still and motionless, save the
two victors, who were much distressed and bruised.
"Well!"
said Jack Pringle, with a hearty execration, as he wiped his face with the back
of his hand; "saving your presence, doctor, we are masters of the field,
doctor; but it's plaguey like capturing an empty bandbox after a hard
fight."
"But
we have got the picture, Jack—we have got the picture, you see, and that is
something. I am sure we saved that."
"Well,
that may be; and a pretty d——d looking picture it is after all. Why, it's
enough to frighten a lady into the sulks. I think it would be a very good thing
if it were burned."
"Well,"
said the doctor, "I would sooner see it burned than in the hands of
that—"
"What?"
exclaimed Jack.
"I
don't know," said Mr. Chillingworth; "but thief I should say, for it
was somewhat thief-like to break into another man's house and carry off the
furniture."
"A
pirate—a regular land shark."
"Something
that is not the same as an honest man, Jack; but, at all events, we have beaten
him back this time."
"Yes,"
said Jack, "the ship's cleared; no company is better than bad company,
doctor."
"So
it is, and yet it don't seem clear in terms. But, Jack, it you hadn't come in
time, I should have been but scurvily treated. He was too powerful for me; I
was as nigh being killed as ever I have been; but you were just in time to save
me."
"Well,
he was a large, ugly fellow, sure enough, and looked like an old tree."
"Did
you see him?"
"Yes,
to be sure I did."
"Well,
I could not catch a glimpse of his features. In fact, I was too much employed
to see anything, and it was much too dark to notice anything particular, even
if I had had leisure."
"Why,
you had as much to do as you could well manage, I must say that, at all events.
I didn't see much of him myself; only he was a tall, out-of-the-way sort of
chap—a long-legged shark. He gave me such a dig or two as I haven't had for a
long while, nor don't want to get again; though I don't care if I face the
devil himself. A man can't do more than do his best, doctor."
"No,
Jack; but there are very few who do do their best, and that's the truth. You
have, and have done it to some purpose too. But I have had enough for one day;
he was almost strong enough to contend against us both."
"Yes,
so he was."
"And,
besides that, he almost carried away the picture—that was a great hindrance to
him. Don't you think we could have held him if we had not been fighting over
the picture?"
"Yes,
to be sure we could; we could have gone at him bodily, and held him. He would
not have been able to use his hands. We could have hung on him, and I am sure
if I came to grapple yard-arm and yard-arm, he would have told a different
tale; however, that is neither here nor there. How long had you been
here?"
"Not
very long," replied the doctor, whose head was a little confused by the
blows which he had received. "I can't now tell how long, but only a short
time, I think."
"Where
did he come from?" inquired Jack.
"Come
from, Jack?"
"Yes,
doctor, where did he came from?—the window, I suppose—the same way he went out,
I dare say—it's most likely."
"Oh,
no, no; he come down from behind the picture. There's some mystery in that
picture, I'll swear to it; it's very strange he should make such a desperate
attempt to carry it away."
"Yes;
one would think," said Jack, "there was more in it than we can
see—that it is worth more than we can believe; perhaps somebody sets particular
store by it."
"I
don't know," said Mr. Chillingworth, shaking his head, "I don't know
how that may be; but certain it is, the picture was the object of his visit
here—that is very certain."
"It
was; he was endeavouring to carry it off," said Jack; "it would be a
very good ornament to the black hole at Calcutta."
"The
utility of putting it where it cannot be seen," remarked Mr.
Chillingworth, "I cannot very well see; though I dare say it might be all
very well."
"Yes—its
ugly features would be no longer seen; so far, it would be a good job. But are
you going to remain here all night, and so make a long watch of it,
doctor?"
"Why,
Jack," said the doctor, "I did intend watching here; but now the game
is disturbed, it is of no use remaining here. We have secured the picture, and
now there will be no need of remaining in the house; in fact, there is no fear
of robbery now."
"Not
so long as we are here," said Jack Pringle; "the smugglers won't show
a head while the revenue cutter is on the look out."
"Certainly
not, Jack," said Mr. Chillingworth; "I think we have scared them
away—the picture is safe."
"Yes—so
long as we are here."
"And
longer, too, I hope."
Jack
shook his head, as much as to intimate that he had many doubts upon such a
point, and couldn't be hurried into any concession of opinion of the safety of
such a picture as that—much as he disliked it, and as poor an opinion as he had
of it.
"Don't
you think it will be safe?"
"No,"
said Jack.
"And
why not?" said Mr. Chillingworth, willing to hear what Jack could advance
against the opinion he had expressed, especially as he had disturbed the
marauder in the very act of robbery.
"Why,
you'll be watched by this very man; and when you are gone, he will return in
safety, and take this plaguey picture away with him."
"Well,
he might do so," said Mr. Chillingworth, after some thought; "he even
endangered his own escape for the purpose of carrying it off."
"He
wants it," said Jack.
"What,
the picture?"
"Aye,
to be sure; do you think anybody would have tried so hard to get away with it?
He wants it; and the long and the short of it is, he will have it, despite all
that can be done to prevent it; that's my opinion."
"Well,
there is much truth in that; but what to do I don't know."
"Take
it to the cottage," suggested Jack. "The picture must be more than we
think for; suppose we carry it along."
"That
is no bad plan of yours, Jack," said Mr. Chillingworth; "and, though
a little awkward, yet it is not the worst I have heard; but—but—what will they
say, when they see this frightful face in that quiet, yet contented
house?"
"Why,
they'll say you brought it," said Jack; "I don't see what else they
can say, but that you have done well; besides, when you come to explain, you
will make the matter all right to 'em."
"Yes,
yes," said Chillingworth; "and, as the picture now seems to be the
incomprehensible object of attack, I will secure that, at all events."
"I'll
help you."
"Thank
you, Jack; your aid will be welcome; at least, it was so just now."
"All
right, doctor," said Jack. "I may be under your hands some day."
"I'll
physic you for nothing," said Mr. Chillingworth. "You saved my life.
One good turn deserves another; I'll not forget."
"Thank
you," said Jack, as he made a wry face. "I hope you won't have
occasion. I'd sooner have a can of grog than any bottle of medicine you can
give me; I ain't ungrateful, neither."
"You
needn't name it; I am getting my breath again. I suppose we had better leave
this place, as soon as we conveniently can."
"Exactly.
The sooner the better; we can take it the more leisurely as we go."
The
moon was up; there were no clouds now, but there was not a very strong light,
because the moon was on the wane. It was one of those nights during which an
imperceptible vapour arises, and renders the moon somewhat obscure, or, at
least, it robs the earth of her rays; and then there were shadows cast by the
moon, yet they grew fainter, and those cast upon the floor of the apartment
were less distinct than at first.
There
seemed scarce a breath of air stirring; everything was quiet and still; no
motion—no sound, save that of the breathing of the two who sat in that
mysterious apartment, who gazed alternately round the place, and then in each
other's countenances. Suddenly, the silence of the night was disturbed by a
very slight, but distinct noise, which struck upon them with peculiar
distinctness; it was a gentle tap, tap, at the window, as if some one was doing
it with their fingernail.
They
gazed on each other, for some moments, in amazement, and then at the window,
but they saw nothing; and yet, had there been anything, they must have seen it,
but there was not even a shadow.
"Well,"
said Mr. Chillingworth, after he had listened to the tap, tap, several times,
without being able to find out or imagine what it could arise from, "what
on earth can it be?"
"Don't
know," said Jack, very composedly, squinting up at the window. "Can't
see anything."
"Well,
but it must be something," persisted Mr. Chillingworth; "it must be
something."
"I
dare say it is; but I don't see anything. I can't think what it can be, unless—"
"Unless
what? Speak out," said the doctor, impatiently.
"Why,
unless it is Davy Jones himself, tapping with his long finger-nails, a-telling
us as how we've been too long already here."
"Then,
I presume, we may as well go; and yet I am more disposed to deem it some device
of the enemy to dislodge us from this place, for the purpose of enabling them
to effect some nefarious scheme or other they have afloat."
"It
may be, and is, I dare say, a do of some sort or other," said Jack;
"but what' can it be?"
"There
it is again," said the doctor; "don't you hear it? I can, as plain as
I can hear myself."
"Yes,"
said Jack; "I can hear it plain enough, and can see it, too; and that is
more. Yes, yes, I can tell all about it plain enough."
"You
can? Well, then, shew me," said the doctor, as he strode up to the window,
before which Jack was standing gazing upon one particular spot of the shattered
window with much earnestness.
"Where
is it?"
"Look
there," said Jack, pointing with his finger to a particular spot, to which
the doctor directed his attention, expecting to see a long, skinny hand tapping
against the glass; but he saw nothing.
"Where
is it?"
"Do
you see that twig of ivy, or something of the sort?" inquired Jack.
"Yes,
I do."
"Very
well, watch that; and when the wind catches it—and there is but very little—it
lifts it up, and then, falling down again, it taps the glass."
Just
as he spoke, there came a slight gust of wind; and it gave a practical
illustration to his words; for the tapping was heard as often as the plant was
moved by the wind.
"Well,"
said Mr. Chillingworth, "however simple and unimportant the matter may be,
yet I cannot but say I am always well pleased to find a practical explanation
of it, so that there will be no part left in doubt."
"There
is none about that," said Jack.
"None.
Well, we are not beset, then. We may as well consider of the manner of our
getting clear of this place. What sort of burthen this picture may be I know
not; but I will make the attempt to carry it."
"Avast,
there," said Jack; "I will carry it: at all events, I'll take the
first spell, and, if I can't go on, we'll turn and turn about."
"We
can divide the weight from the first, and then neither of us will be tired at
all."
"Just
as you please, sir," said Jack Pringle. "I am willing to obey orders;
and, if we are to get in to-night before they are all a-bed, we had better go
at once; and then we shall not disturb them."