THE WARNING.—THE NEW PLAN OF OPERATION.—THE INSULTING MESSAGE FROM
VARNEY.
So much of the night had been consumed in these operations, that by the
time they were over, and the three personages who lay upon the floor of
what might be called the haunted chamber of Bannerworth Hall, even had
they now been disposed to seek repose, would have had a short time to
do so before the daylight would have streamed in upon them, and roused
them to the bustle of waking existence.
It may be well believed what a vast amount of surprise came over the
three persons in that chamber at the last little circumstance that had
occurred in connection with the night’s proceedings.
There was nothing which had preceded that, that did not resemble a
genuine attack upon the premises; but about that last mysterious
appearance, with its curious light, there was quite enough to bother
the admiral and Jack Pringle to a considerable effect, whatever might
be the effect upon Mr. Chillingworth, whose profession better enabled
him to comprehend, chemically, what would produce effects that, no
doubt, astonished them amazingly.
What with his intoxication and the violent exercise he had taken, Jack
was again thoroughly prostrate; while the admiral could not have looked
more astonished had the evil one himself appeared in _propria persona_
and given him notice to quit the premises.
He was, however, the first to speak, and the words he spoke were
addressed to Jack, to whom he said,—
“Jack, you lubber, what do you think of all that?”
Jack, however, was too far gone even to say “Ay, ay, sir;” and Mr.
Chillingworth, slowly getting himself up to his feet, approached the
admiral.
“It’s hard to say so much, Admiral Bell,” he said, “but it strikes
me that whatever object this Sir Francis Varney, or Varney, the
vampyre, has in coming into Bannerworth Hall, it is, at all events, of
sufficient importance to induce him to go any length, and not to let
even a life to stand in the way of its accomplishment.”
“Well, it seems so,” said the admiral; “for I’ll be hanged if I can
make head or tail of the fellow.”
“If we value our personal safety, we shall hesitate to continue a
perilous adventure, which I think can end only in defeat, if not in
death.”
“But we don’t value our personal safety,” said the admiral. “We’ve got
into the adventure, and I don’t see why we shouldn’t carry it out. It
may be growing a little serious; but what of that? For the sake of that
young girl, Flora Bannerworth, as well as for the sake of my nephew,
Charles Holland, I will see the end of this affair, let it be what it
may; but mind you, Mr. Chillingworth, if one man chooses to go upon a
desperate service, that’s no reason why he should ask another to do so.”
“I understand you,” said Mr. Chillingworth; “but, having commenced
the adventure with you, I am not the man to desert you in it. We have
committed a great mistake.”
“A mistake! how?”
“Why, we ought to have watched outside the house, instead of within it.
There can be no doubt that if we had lain in wait in the garden, we
should have been in a better position to have accomplished our object.”
“Well, I don’t know, doctor, but it seems to me that if Jack Pringle
hadn’t made such a fool of himself, we should have managed very well:
and I don’t know now how he came to behave in the manner he did.”
“Nor I,” said Mr. Chillingworth. “But, at all events, so far as the
result goes, it is quite clear that any further watching, in this
house, for the appearance of Sir Francis Varney, will now be in vain.
He has nothing to do now but to keep quiet until we are tired out—a
fact, concerning which he can easily obtain information—and then he
immediately, without trouble, walks into the premises, to his own
satisfaction.”
“But what the deuce can he want upon the premises?”
“That question, admiral, induces me to think that we have made another
mistake. We ought not to have attempted to surprise Sir Francis Varney
in coming into Bannerworth Hall, but to catch him as he came out.”
“Well, there’s something in that,” said the admiral. “This is a pretty
night’s business, to be sure. However, it can’t be helped, it’s done,
and there’s an end on’t. And now, as the morning is near at hand, I
certainly must confess I should like to get some breakfast, although I
don’t like that we should all leave the house together.”
“Why,” said Mr. Chillingworth, “as we have now no secret to keep with
regard to our being here, because the principal person we wished to
keep it from is aware of it, I think we cannot do better than send at
once for Henry Bannerworth, tell him of the non-success of the effort
we have made in his behalf, and admit him at once into our consultation
of what is next to be done.”
“Agreed, agreed, I think that, without troubling him, we might have
captured this Varney; but that’s over now, and, as soon as Jack Pringle
chooses to wake up again, I’ll send him to the Bannerworths with a
message.”
“Ay, ay, sir,” said Jack, suddenly; “all’s right.”
“Why, you vagabond,” said the admiral, “I do believe you’ve been
shamming!”
“Shamming what?”
“Being drunk, to be sure.”
“Lor! couldn’t do it,” said Jack; “I’ll just tell you how it was. I
wakened up and found myself shut in somewhere; and, as I couldn’t get
out of the door, I thought I’d try the window, and there I did get out.
Well, perhaps I wasn’t quite the thing, but I sees two people in the
garden a looking up at this ere room; and, to be sure, I thought it was
you and the doctor. Well, it warn’t no business of mine to interfere,
so I seed one of you climb up the balcony, as I thought, and then,
after which, come down head over heels with such a run, that I thought
you must have broken your neck. Well, after that you fired a couple of
shots in, and then, after that, I made sure it was you, admiral.”
“And what made you make sure of that?”
“Why, because you scuttled away like an empty tar-barrel in full tide.”
“Confound you, you scoundrel!”
“Well, then, confound you, if it comes to that. I thought I was doing
you good sarvice, and that the enemy was here, when all the while it
turned out as you was and the enemy wasn’t, and the enemy was outside
and you wasn’t.”
“But who threw such a confounded lot of things into the room?”
“Why, I did, of course; I had but one pistol, and, when I fired that
off, I was forced to make up a broadside with what I could.”
“Was there ever such a stupid!” said the admiral; “doctor, doctor, you
talked of us making two mistakes; but you forgot a third and worse one
still, and that was the bringing such a lubberly son of a sea-cook into
the place as this fellow.”
“You’re another,” said Jack; “and you knows it.”
“Well, well,” said Mr. Chillingworth, “it’s no use continuing it,
admiral; Jack, in his way, did, I dare say, what he considered for the
best.”
“I wish he’d do, then, what he considers for the worst, next time.”
“Perhaps I may,” said Jack, “and then you will be served out above a
bit. What ’ud become of you, I wonder, if it wasn’t for me? I’m as good
as a mother to you, you knows that, you old babby.”
“Come, come, admiral,” said Mr. Chillingworth; “come down to the
garden-gate; it is now just upon daybreak, and the probability is that
we shall not be long there before we see some of the country people,
who will get us anything we require in the shape of refreshment; and
as for Jack, he seems quite sufficiently recovered now to go to the
Bannerworths’.”
“Oh! I can go,” said Jack; “as for that, the only thing as puts me out
of the way is the want of something to drink. My constitution won’t
stand what they call temperance living, or nothing with the chill off.”
“Go at once,” said the admiral, “and tell Mr. Henry Bannerworth that we
are here; but do not tell him before his sister or his mother. If you
meet anybody on the road, send them here with a cargo of victuals. It
strikes me that a good, comfortable breakfast wouldn’t be at all amiss,
doctor.”
“How rapidly the day dawns,” remarked Mr. Chillingworth, as he walked
into the balcony from whence Varney, the vampire, had attempted to make
good his entrance to the Hall.
Just as he spoke, and before Jack Pringle could get half way over to
the garden gate, there came a tremendous ring at the bell which was
suspended over it.
A view of that gate could not be commanded from the window of the
haunted apartment, so that they could not see who it was that demanded
admission.
As Jack Pringle was going down at any rate, they saw no necessity for
personal interference; and he proved that there was not, by presently
returning with a note which he said had been thrown over the gate by a
lad, who then scampered off with all the speed he could make.
The note, exteriorly, was well got up, and had all the appearance of
great care having been bestowed upon its folding and sealing.
It was duly addressed to “Admiral Bell, Bannerworth Hall,” and the word
“immediate” was written at one corner.
The admiral, after looking at it for some time with very great wonder,
came at last to the conclusion that probably to open it would be the
shortest way of arriving at a knowledge of who had sent it, and he
accordingly did so.
The note was as follows:—
“My dear sir,—Feeling assured that you cannot be surrounded
with those means and appliances for comfort in the Hall, in its
now deserted condition, which you have a right to expect, and
so eminently deserve, I flatter myself that I shall receive an
answer in the affirmative, when I request the favour of your
company to breakfast, as well as that of your learned friend.
Mr. Chillingworth.
“In consequence of a little accident which occurred last
evening to my own residence, I am, _ad interim_, until the
county build it up for me again, staying at a house called
Walmesley Lodge, where I shall expect you with all the
impatience of one soliciting an honour, and hoping that it
will be conferred upon him.
“I trust that any little difference of opinion on other
subjects will not interfere to prevent the harmony of our
morning’s meal together.
“Believe me to be, my dear sir, with the greatest possible
consideration, your very obedient, humble servant,
“+Francis Varney+.”
The admiral gasped again, and looked at Mr. Chillingworth, and then at
the note, and then at Mr. Chillingworth again, as if he was perfectly
bewildered.
“That’s about the coolest piece of business,” said Mr. Chillingworth,
“that ever I heard of.”
“Hang me,” said the admiral, “if I sha’n’t like the fellow at last. It
is cool, and I like it because it is cool. Where’s my hat? where’s my
stick?”
“What are you going to do?”
“Accept his invitation, to be sure, and breakfast with him; and, my
learned friend, as he calls you, I hope you’ll come likewise. I’ll
take the fellow at his word. By fair means, or by foul, I’ll know what
he wants here; and why he persecutes this family, for whom I have an
attachment; and what hand he has in the disappearance of my nephew,
Charles Holland; for, as sure as there’s a Heaven above us, he’s at the
bottom of that affair. Where is this Walmesley Lodge?”
“Just in the neighbourhood; but——”
“Come on, then; come on.”
“But, really, admiral, you don’t mean to say you’ll breakfast
with—with——”
“A vampyre? Yes, I would, and will, and mean to do so. Here, Jack, you
needn’t go to Mr. Bannerworth’s yet. Come, my learned friend, let’s
take Time by the forelock.”