Authors: George W. M. Reynolds,James Malcolm Rymer
Whether
or not this amiable piece of manoeuvring was seen through by the Bannerworths
it is not our purpose to inquire. If it was seen through, it could not lower
him in their esteem, for it was probably just what they themselves would have
felt a pleasure in doing under similar circumstances, and if they did not
observe it, Mr. Marchdale would, probably, be all the better pleased.
Such
then may be considered by our readers as a brief outline of the state of
affairs among the Bannerworths—a state which was pregnant with changes, and
which changes were now likely to be rapid and conclusive.
How
far the feelings of the family towards the ancient house of their race would be
altered by the appearance at it of so fearful a visitor as a vampyre, we will
not stop to inquire, inasmuch as such feelings will develop themselves as we proceed.
That
the visitation had produced a serious effect upon all the household was
sufficiently evident, as well among the educated as among the ignorant. On the
second morning, Henry received notice to quit his service from the three
servants he with difficulty had contrived to keep at the hall. The reason why
he received such notice he knew well enough, and therefore he did not trouble
himself to argue about a superstition to which he felt now himself almost,
compelled to give way; for how could he say there was no such thing as a
vampyre, when he had, with his own eyes, had the most abundant evidence of the
terrible fact?
He
calmly paid the servants, and allowed them to leave him at once without at all
entering into the matter, and, for the time being, some men were procured, who,
however, came evidently with fear and trembling, and probably only took the
place, on account of not being able, to procure any other. The comfort of the
household was likely to be completely put an end to, and reasons now for leaving
the hall appeared to be most rapidly accumulating.
THE VISIT TO THE VAULT OF THE BANNERWORTHS, AND ITS
UNPLEASANT RESULT.—THE MYSTERY.
Henry
and his brother roused Flora, and after agreeing together that it would be
highly imprudent to say anything to her of the proceedings of the night, they
commenced a conversation with her in encouraging and kindly accents.
"Well,
Flora," said Henry, "you see you have been quite undisturbed
to-night."
"I
have slept long, dear Henry."
"You
have, and pleasantly too, I hope."
"I
have not had any dreams, and I feel much refreshed, now, and quite well
again."
"Thank
Heaven!" said George.
"If
you will tell dear mother that I am awake, I will get up with her
assistance."
The
brothers left the room, and they spoke to each other of it as a favourable
sign, that Flora did not object to being left alone now, as she had done on the
preceding morning.
"She
is fast recovering, now, George," said Henry. "If we could now but
persuade ourselves that all this alarm would pass away, and that we should hear
no more of it, we might return to our old and comparatively happy
condition."
"Let
us believe, Henry, that we shall."
"And
yet, George, I shall not be satisfied in my mind, until I have paid a
visit."
"A
visit? Where?"
"To
the family vault."
"Indeed,
Henry! I thought you had abandoned that idea."
"I
had. I have several times abandoned it; but it comes across my mind again and
again."
"I
much regret it."
"Look
you, George; as yet, everything that has happened has tended to confirm a
belief in this most horrible of all superstitions concerning vampyres."
"It
has."
"Now,
my great object, George, is to endeavour to disturb such a state of things, by
getting something, however slight, or of a negative character, for the mind to
rest upon on the other side of the question."
"I
comprehend you, Henry."
"You
know that at present we are not only led to believe, almost irresistibly that
we have been visited here by a vampyre but that that vampyre is our ancestor,
whose portrait is on the panel of the wall of the chamber into which he
contrived to make his way."
"True,
most true."
"Then
let us, by an examination of the family vault, George, put an end to one of the
evidences. If we find, as most surely we shall, the coffin of the ancestor of
ours, who seems, in dress and appearance, so horribly mixed up in this affair,
we shall be at rest on that head."
"But
consider how many years have elapsed."
"Yes,
a great number."
"What
then, do you suppose, could remain of any corpse placed in a vault so long
ago?"
"Decomposition
must of course have done its work, but still there must be a something to show
that a corpse has so undergone the process common to all nature. Double the
lapse of time surely could not obliterate all traces of that which had
been."
"There
is reason in that, Henry."
"Besides,
the coffins are all of lead, and some of stone, so that they cannot have all
gone."
"True,
most true."
"If
in the one which, from the inscription and the date, we discover to be that of
our ancestor whom we seek, we find the evident remains of a corpse, we shall be
satisfied that he has rested in his tomb in peace."
"Brother,
you seem bent on this adventure," said George; "if you go, I will
accompany you."
"I
will not engage rashly in it, George. Before I finally decide, I will again
consult with Mr. Marchdale. His opinion will weigh much with me."
"And
in good time, here he comes across the garden," said George, as he looked
from the window of the room in which they sat.
It
was Mr. Marchdale, and the brothers warmly welcomed him as he entered the
apartment.
"You
have been early afoot," said Henry.
"I
have," he said. "The fact is, that although at your solicitation I
went to bed, I could not sleep, and I went out once more to search about the
spot where we had seen the—the I don't know what to call it, for I have a great
dislike to naming it a vampyre."
"There
is not much in a name," said George.
"In
this instance there is," said Marchdale. "It is a name suggestive of
horror."
"Made
you any discovery?" said Henry.
"None
whatever."
"You
saw no trace of any one?"
"Not
the least."
"Well,
Mr. Marchdale, George and I were talking over this projected visit to the
family vault."
"Yes."
"And
we agreed to suspend our judgments until we saw you, and learned your
opinion."
"Which
I will tell you frankly," said Mr. Marchdale, "because I know you
desire it freely."
"Do
so."
"It
is, that you make the visit."
"Indeed."
"Yes,
and for this reason. You have now, as you cannot help having, a disagreeable
feeling, that you may find that one coffin is untenanted. Now, if you do find
it so, you scarcely make matters worse, by an additional confirmation of what
already amounts to a strong supposition, and one which is likely to grow
stronger by time."
"True,
most true."
"On
the contrary, if you find indubitable proofs that your ancestor has slept
soundly in the tomb, and gone the way of all flesh, you will find yourselves
much calmer, and that an attack is made upon the train of events which at
present all run one way."
"That
is precisely the argument I was using to George," said Henry, "a few
moments since."
"Then
let us go," said George, "by all means."
"It
is so decided then," said Henry.
"Let
it be done with caution," replied Mr. Marchdale.
"If
any one can manage it, of course we can."
"Why
should it not be done secretly and at night? Of course we lose nothing by
making a night visit to a vault into which daylight, I presume, cannot
penetrate."
"Certainly
not."
"Then
let it be at night."
"But
we shall surely require the concurrence of some of the church
authorities."
"Nay,
I do not see that," interposed Mr. Marchdale. "It is the vault
actually vested in and belonging to yourself you wish to visit, and, therefore,
you have right to visit it in any manner or at any time that may be most
suitable to yourself."
"But
detection in a clandestine visit might produce unpleasant consequences."
"The
church is old," said George, "and we could easily find means of
getting into it. There is only one objection that I see, just now, and that is,
that we leave Flora unprotected."
"We
do, indeed," said Henry. "I did not think of that."
"It
must be put to herself, as a matter for her own consideration," said Mr.
Marchdale, "if she will consider herself sufficiently safe with the
company and protection of your mother only."
"It
would be a pity were we not all three present at the examination of the
coffin," remarked Henry.
"It
would, indeed. There is ample evidence," said Mr. Marchdale, "but we
must not give Flora a night of sleeplessness and uneasiness on that account,
and the more particularly as we cannot well explain to her where we are going,
or upon what errand."
"Certainly
not."
"Let
us talk to her, then, about it," said Henry. "I confess I am much
bent upon the plan, and fain would not forego it; neither should I like other
than that we three should go together."
"If
you determine, then, upon it," said Marchdale, "we will go to-night;
and, from your acquaintance with the place, doubtless you will be able to
decide what tools are necessary."
"There
is a trap-door at the bottom of the pew," said Henry; "it is not only
secured down, but it is locked likewise, and I have the key in my
possession."
"Indeed!"
"Yes;
immediately beneath is a short flight of stone steps, which conduct at once
into the vault."
"Is
it large?"
"No;
about the size of a moderate chamber, and with no intricacies about it."
"There
can be no difficulties, then."
"None
whatever, unless we meet with actual personal interruption, which I am inclined
to think is very far from likely. All we shall require will be a screwdriver,
with which to remove the screws, and then something with which to wrench open
the coffin."
"Those
we can easily provide, along with lights," remarked Mr. Marchdale.
"I
hope to Heaven that this visit to the tomb will have the effect of easing your
minds, and enabling you to make a successful stand against the streaming
torrent of evidence that has poured in upon us regarding this most fearful of
apparitions."
"I
do, indeed, hope so," added Henry; "and now I will go at once to
Flora, and endeavour to convince her she is safe without us to-night."
"By-the-bye,
I think," said Marchdale, "that if we can induce Mr. Chillingworth to
come with us, it will be a great point gained in the investigation."
"He
would," said Henry, "be able to come to an accurate decision with
respect to the remains—if any—in the coffin, which we could not."
"Then
have him, by all means," said George. "He did not seem averse last
night to go on such an adventure."
"I
will ask him when he makes his visit this morning upon Flora; and should he not
feel disposed to join us, I am quite sure he will keep the secret of our
visit."
All
this being arranged, Henry proceeded to Flora, and told her that he and George,
and Mr. Marchdale wished to go out for about a couple of hours in the evening
after dark, if she felt sufficiently well to feel a sense of security without
them.
Flora
changed colour, and slightly trembled, and then, as if ashamed of her fears,
she said,—
"Go,
go; I will not detain you. Surely no harm can come to me in presence of my
mother."
"We
shall not be gone longer than the time I mention to you," said Henry.
"Oh,
I shall be quite content. Besides, am I to be kept thus in fear all my life?
Surely, surely not. I ought, too, to learn to defend myself."
Henry
caught at the idea, as he said,—
"If
fire-arms were left you, do you think you would have courage to use them?"
"I
do, Henry."
"Then
you shall have them; and let me beg of you to shoot any one without the least
hesitation who shall come into your chamber."
"I
will, Henry. If ever human being was justified in the use of deadly weapons, I
am now. Heaven protect me from a repetition of the visit to which I have now
been once subjected. Rather, oh, much rather would I die a hundred deaths than
suffer what I have suffered."
"Do
not allow it, dear Flora, to press too heavily upon your mind in dwelling upon
it in conversation. I still entertain a sanguine expectation that something may
arise to afford a far less dreadful explanation of what has occurred than what
you have put upon it. Be of good cheer, Flora, we shall go one hour after
sunset, and return in about two hours from the time at which we leave here, you
may be assured."
Notwithstanding
this ready and courageous acquiescence of Flora in the arrangement, Henry was
not without his apprehension that when the night should come again, her fears
would return with it; but he spoke to Mr. Chillingworth upon the subject, and
got that gentleman's ready consent to accompany them.
He
promised to meet them at the church porch exactly at nine o'clock, and matters
were all arranged, and Henry waited with much eagerness and anxiety now for the
coming night, which he hoped would dissipate one of the fearful deductions
which his imagination had drawn from recent circumstances.
He
gave to Flora a pair of pistols of his own, upon which he knew he could depend,
and he took good care to load them well, so that there could be no likelihood
whatever of their missing fire at a critical moment.
"Now,
Flora," he said, "I have seen you use fire-arms when you were much
younger than you are now, and therefore I need give you no instructions. If any
intruder does come, and you do fire, be sure you take a good aim, and shoot
low."
"I
will, Henry, I will; and you will be back in two hours?"
"Most
assuredly I will."
The
day wore on, evening came, and then deepened into night. It turned out to be a
cloudy night, and therefore the moon's brilliance was nothing near equal to
what it had been on the preceding night Still, however, it had sufficient power
over the vapours that frequently covered it for many minutes together, to
produce a considerable light effect upon the face of nature, and the night was
consequently very far, indeed, from what might be called a dark one.