VARNEY DETAILS HIS SECOND DEATH.
The clergyman was perfectly amazed, as well he might be, at these
revelations of the vampyre. He looked up from the manuscript that
Varney had left him, with a far more bewildered look than he had ever
worn when studying the most abstruse sciences or difficult languages.
“Can I,” he said,—“ought I to believe it?”
This was a question more easily asked than answered, and after pacing
the little room for a time, he thought he had better finish the papers
of the vampyre, before he tortured his mind with any more suppositions
upon the subject.
The papers continued thus, and the clergyman was soon completely
absorbed in the great interest of the strange recital they contained.
• • • • •
I cared nothing as regarded my last adventure, so that it had one
termination which was of any importance to me, namely, that termination
which insured my safety. When I got into the street, I walked
hurriedly on, never once looking behind me, until I was far enough off,
and I felt assured all pursuit was out of the question.
I then began to bethink me what I had next to do.
I was much revived by the draught of blood I had already had, but as
yet I was sufficiently new to my vampyre-like existence not to know how
long such a renewal of my life and strength would last me.
I certainly felt vigorous, but it was a strange, unearthly sort of
vigour, having no sort of resemblance whatever to the strength which
persons in an ordinary state of existence may be supposed to feel, when
the faculties are all full of life, and acting together harmoniously
and well.
When I paused, I found myself in Pall Mall, and not far off from the
palace of St. James, which of late had seen so many changes, and been
the witness of such remarkable mutations in the affair of monarchs,
that its real chronicles would even then have afforded an instructive
volume.
I wandered right up to the gates of the royal pile, but then as I was
about to enter the quadrangle called the colour court, I was rudely
repulsed by a sentinel.
It was not so in the time of Cromwell, but at the same moment I had
quite forgotten all that was so completely changed.
I always bow to authority when I cannot help it, so I turned aside at
once, without making any remark; but as I did so I saw a small door
open, not far from where I was, and two figures emerged muffled up in
brown cloaks.
They looked nothing peculiar at the first glance, but when you came to
examine the form and features, and to observe the manners of those two
men, you could not but come to a conclusion that they were what the
world would estimate as something great.
Adventure to me was life itself, now that I had so strangely shuffled
off all other ties that bound me to the world, and I had a reckless
disregard of danger, which arose naturally enough from my most
singular and horrible tenure of existence. I resolved to follow these
two men closely enough, and yet, if possible, without exciting their
observation.
“Shall we have any sport?” said one.
“I trust that the ladies,” replied the other, “will afford us some.”
“And yet they were rather coy, do you not think, on the last meeting,
Rochester?”
“Your majesty——”
“Hush, man—hush! why are you so imprudent as to majesty me in the
public streets. Here would be a court scandal if any eaves-dropper had
heard you. You were wont to be much more careful than that.”
“I spoke,” said the other, “to recall your majesty to care. The fugit
of Rochester, which you pronounced, is just as likely in the streets at
such a time to create court scandal as that of——”
“Hush, hush! Did I say Rochester? Well—well, man, hold your peace if I
did, and come on quickly—if we can but persuade them to come out, we
can take them into the garden of the palace; I have the key of that
most handy little door in the wall, which has served us more than once.”
Of course, after this, I had no difficulty in knowing that the one
speaker was the restored monarch, Charles the Second, and the other was
his favourite, and dissolute companion, Rochester, of whom I had heard
something, although I had been far too short a time in the land of the
living again, to have had any opportunity of seeing either of them
before, but since they had now confessed themselves to be what they
were, I could have no sort of difficulty in their recognition at any
other time.
I had carefully kept out of sight while the little dialogue I have
just recorded took place, so that although they more than once glanced
around them suspiciously and keenly, they saw me not, and having quite
satisfied them that their imprudent speech had done them no harm, they
walked on hurriedly in the direction of Pimlico.
Little did Charles and his companion guess how horrible a being was
following close upon their track. If they had done so they might have
paused, aghast, and pursued another course to that which was occupying
their attention. I had a difficult part to play in following them, for
although the king was incautious enough to have been safely and easily
followed by any one, Rochester was not, but kept a wary eye around him,
so that I was really more than once upon the point of being detected,
and yet by dint of good management I did escape.
Pimlico at that time was rather a miserable neighbourhood, and far,
very far indeed from being what it is now, but both the king and
Rochester appeared to be well acquainted with it and they went on
for a considerable distance until they came to a turning of a narrow
dismal-looking character bounded on each side not by houses but by the
garden walls of houses, and to judge from the solidity and the height
of those walls, the houses should have been houses of some importance.
“Bravo, bravissimo!” said the king, “we are thus far into the enemy
territory without observation.”
“So it seems,” replied Rochester; “and now think you we can find the
particular wall again.”
“Of a surety, yes. Did I not ask them to hang out a handkerchief or
some other signal, by which we might be this night guided in our
search, and there it flutters.”
The king pointed to the top of the wall, where a handkerchief waved and
something certainly in the shape of a human head appeared against the
night sky, and as sweet a voice as ever I heard in my life, said,—
“Gentlemen, I pray you to go away.”
“What,” said the king; “go away just as the sun has risen?”
“Nay, but gentlemen,” said the voice, “we are afraid we are watched.”
“We!” said Rochester, “you say we, and yet your fair companion is not
visible.”
“Fair sir,” said the lady, “it is not the easiest task in the world for
one of us to stand upon a ladder. It certainly will not hold two.”
“Fair lady,” said the king, “and if you can but manage to come over
the wall, we will all four take one of the pleasantest strolls in the
world; a friend of mine, who is a captain in the Royal Guard, will
at my request, allow us to walk in the private garden of St. James’s
palace.”
“Indeed.”
“Yes, fair one. That garden of which you may have heard as the
favourite resort of the gay Charles.”
“But we are afraid,” said the lady; “our uncle may come home. It’s very
improper indeed—very indiscreet—we ought not to think of such a thing
for a moment. In fact, it’s decidedly wrong gentlemen, but how are we
to get over the wall?”
The party all laughed out together.