 Chapter 46 of Varni the Vampire. The Mobs Arrival at Sir Francis Varni's. The Attempt to Gain Admission. The soldiery had been sent for from their principal station near the churchyard, and had advanced, with some degree of reluctance, to quell what they considered as nothing better nor worse than a drunken brawl at a public house, which they really considered they ought not to be called to interfere with. When, however, the party reached the spot, and heard what a confusion there was, and saw in what numbers the rioters were assembling, it became evident to them that the case was of a more serious complexion than they had at first imagined, and consequently they felt that their professional dignity was not so much compromised with their interference with the lawless proceedings. Some of the constabulary of the town were there, and to them the soldiers promised they would hand what prisoners they took, at the same time that they made a distinct condition that they were not to be troubled with their custody, nor in any way further annoyed in the business beyond taking care that they did not absolutely escape after being once secured. This was all that the civil authorities of the town required, and, in fact, they hoped that after making prisoners of a few of the ringleaders of the riotous proceedings, the rest would disperse, and prevent the necessity of capturing them. Be it known, however, that both military and civil authorities were completely ignorant of the dreadful outrage against all common decency which had been committed within the public house. The door was well guarded, and the question now was how the rioters were to be made to come downstairs and be captured, and this was likely to remain a question so long as no means were adopted to make them descend. So that, after a time, it was agreed that a couple of troopers would march upstairs with a constable to enable him to secure anyone who seemed a principal in the riot. But this only had the effect of driving those who were in the second floor and saw the approach of the two soldiers, whom they thought were backed by the whole of the comrades, up a narrow staircase to a third floor, rather consisting of lofts than of actual rooms. But still, for the time, it was a refuge, and, owning to the extreme narrowness of the approach to it, which consisted of nearly a perpendicular staircase, with any degree of tact or method, it might have been admirably defended. In the hurrying scramble, all the lights were left behind, and when the two soldiers and constables entered the room where the corpse had lained, they became, for the first time, aware of what a horrible purpose had been carried out by the infuriated mob. The sight was one of perfect horror and hardened to scenes which might strike other people as being somewhat of the terrific, as these soldiers might be supposed to be by their very profession. They actually sickened at the sight which the mutilated corpse presented, and turned aside with horror. These feelings soon gave way to anger and animosity against the crowd, who could be guilty of such an atrocious outrage, and for the first time, a strong and interested vengeance against the mob pervaded the breasts of those who were brought to act against it. One of the soldiers ran downstairs to the door and reported the scene which was to be seen above. A determination was instantly come to, to capture as many as possible of those who had been concerned and so diabolical and outraged, and leaving a guard of five men at the door and remainder of the party ascended the staircase, determined upon storming the last refuge of the rioters and dragging them to justice. The report, however, of these proceedings that were taking place at the inn, spread quickly over the whole town, and soon as large a mob of the disorderly and the idle as the place could at all afford was assembled outside the inn. This mob appeared for a time inertly to watch the proceedings. It seemed rather a hazardous thing to interfere with the soldiers, whose carbines looked formidable and troublesome weapons. With true mob courage, therefore, they left the minority of their comrades, who were within the house, to their fate, and after a whispered conference from one to the other, they suddenly turned in a body and began to make for the outskirts of the town. They then separated, as if by common consent, and straggled out into the open country by twos and threes, consolidating again into a mass when they had got some distance off and clear of any exertions that could be made by the soldiery to stay them. The cry then rose up, down with Sir Francis Varney, slay him, burn his house, death to all vampires, and at a rapid pace they proceeded in the direction of his mansion. We will leave this mob, however, for the present and turn our attention to those who are at the inn and are certainly in a position of some jeopardy. Their numbers were not great, and they were unarmed. Certainly their best chance would have been to have surrendered at discretion. But that was a measure which, if the sober ones had felt inclined to, those who were infuriated and have maddened with drink would not have ascended to on any account. A furious resistance was therefore fairly to be expected, and what means the soldiery were likely to use for the purpose of storming this last retreat was a matter of rather anxious conjecture. In the case of a regular enemy there would not perhaps have been much difficulty, but here the capture of certain persons and not their destruction was the object. And how that was to be accomplished by fair means certainly was a question which nobody felt very competent to solve. Determination, however, will do wonders, and although the rioters numbered over forty notwithstanding all their desertions and not above seventeen or eighteen soldiers marched into the inn, we shall perceive that they succeeded in accomplishing their object without any maneuvering at all. The space in which the rioters were confined was low, narrow, and inconvenient, as well as dark, for the lights in the staircase cast up that height but very insufficient rays. Weapons of defense they found but very few, and yet there were some which, to do them but common credit, they used as effectually as possible. These attics, or lofts, were used as lumber-rooms, and had been so for years, so that there was a collection of old boxes, broken pieces of furniture, and other matters, which will in defiance of everything and everybody collect in a house. These were formidable means of defense, if not of offense, down a very narrow staircase, had they been used with judgment. Some of the rioters, who were not only just drunk enough to be foolhardy, collected a few of these articles at the top of the staircase, and swore they would smash anybody who should attempt to come up to them, a threat easier uttered than executed. And besides, after all, if their position had been so impregnable, they must come down eventually or be starved out. But the soldiers were not at liberty to adopt so slow a process of overcoming their enemy, and up the second floor staircase they went, with the determination of making short work of the business. They paused a moment, by word of command, on the landing, and then, after this slight pause, the word was given to advance. Now, when men will advance, in spite of anything and everything, it is no easy matter to stop them, and he who was foremost among the military would assume the thought of hesitation to ascend the narrow staircase before him, in order to do so, as paying the national debt. On he went, and down came a great chest, which, falling against his feet, knocked him down as he attempted to scramble over it. Fire, said the officer, and it appeared that he had made some arrangements as to how the order was to be obeyed. For the second man fired his carbine, and then scrambled over his prostrate comrade. After which he stooped, and the third fired his carbine likewise, and then hurried forward in the same manner. At the first sound of the firearms, the rioters were taken completely by surprise. They had not had the least notion of affairs getting to such a length. The smell of the powder, the loud report, and the sensation of positive danger that accompanied these phenomena alarmed them most terrifically, so that in point of fact, with the exception of the empty chest that was thrown down in the way of the first soldier, no further idea of defense seemed in any way to find a place in the hearts of the besieged. They scrambled one over the other in their eagerness to get as far as possible from immediate danger, which, of course, they conceived existed in the most imminent degree the nearest in the door. Such was the state of terror into which they were thrown, that each one at the moment believed himself shot, and the soldiers had overcome all the real difficulties of getting possession of what might thus be called the citadel of the inn, before those men who had been so valorous a short time since recovered from the tremendous fright into which they had been thrown. We need hardly say that the carbines were loaded, but with blank cartridges, for there was neither a disposition nor a necessity for taking the lies of these misguided people. It was the suddenness and the steadiness of the attack that had done all the mischief to their cause. But now, ere they recovered from the surprise of having their possession so completely taken by storm, they were handed downstairs, one by one, from soldier to soldier, and into the custody of the civil authorities. In order to secure the safekeeping of so large a body of prisoners, the constables, who were in a great minority, placed handcuffs upon some of the most capable of the resistance. So what with those who were thus secured, and those who were terrified into submission, there was not a man of all the lot who had taken refuge in the attics of the public house, but was a prisoner. At the sound of firearms, the women who were outside the inn had, of course, raised a prodigious clamor. They believed directly that every bullet must have done some serious mischief to the townspeople, and it was only upon one of the soldiers, a non-commissioned officer, who was below, assuring them of the noxious nature of the proceedings which restored anything like equanimity. Silence, he cried. What are you howling about? Do you fancy that we have nothing better to do than to shoot a parcel of fellows that are not worth the bullets that would be lodged in their confounded carcasses? But we heard the gun, said a woman. Of course you did. It's the powder that makes the noise, not the bullet. You'll see them all brought out safe, wind and limb. This assurance satisfied the women to a certain extent, and such had been their fear that they should have had to look upon the spectacle of death or of grievous wounds that they were comparatively quite satisfied when they saw husbands, fathers and brothers only in the custody of the town officers. And very sheepish some of the fellows looked when they were handed down and handcuffed, and the more especially when they had been routed only by a few blank cartridges. That six penny worth of powder had defeated them. They were marched off to the town jail, guarded by the military, who now probably fancied that their night's work was over and that the most turbulent and troublesome spirits in the town had been secured. Such, however, was not the case, for no sooner had comparative order been restored than common observation pointed to a dull red glare in the southern sky. In a few more minutes there came in stragglers from the open country shouting, Fire! Fire! with all their might. End of Chapter 46. Recording by Roger Maline The mob's arrival at Sir Francis Farnes, the attempt to gain admission. All eyes were directed towards that southern sky, which each moment was becoming more and more illuminated by the lurid appearance bespeaking a conflagration, which, if it was not extensive, at all events was raging fiercely. There came, too, upon that wind which set from that direction strange sounds resembling shouts of triumph, combined occasionally with sharper cries, indicative of alarm. With so much system and so quietly had this attack been made upon the house of Sir Francis Farnes, for the consequences of it now exhibited themselves more unequivocally, that no one who had not actually accompanied the expedition was in the least aware that it had been at all undertaken, or that anything of the kind was on the tabas. Now, however, it could be no longer kept a secret, and as the infuriated mob, who had sought this flagrant means of giving vent to their anger, saw the flames from the blazing house rising high in the heavens, they felt convinced that further secrecy was out of the question. Accordingly, in such cries and shouts as, but for caution's sake, they would have indulged in from the very first, they now gave utterance to their feelings as regarded the man whose destruction was endowed. Death to the vampire, death to the vampire, was the principal shout, and it was uttered in tones which sounded like those of rage and disappointment. But it is necessary, now that we have disposed of the smaller number of rioters who committed so serious an outrage at the inn that we should, with some degree of method, follow the proceedings of the larger number who went from the town towards Sir Francis Farnes. These persons either had information of a very positive nature, or a very strong suspicion that, notwithstanding the mysterious and almost unaccountable disappearance of the vampire in the old ruin, he would now be found, as usual, at his own residence. Perhaps one of his own servants may have thus played the traitor to him, but, however it was, there certainly was an air of confidence about some of the leaders of the tumultuous assemblage that induced a general belief that this time, at least, the vampire would not escape popular vengeance for being what he was. We have before noticed that these people went out of the town at different points, and did not assemble into one mass until they were at a sufficient distance off to be free from all fear of observation. Then some of the less observant and cautious of them began to indulge in shots of rage and defiance, but those who placed themselves foremost succeeded in procuring a halt, and one said, Good friends all, if we make any noise, it can only have one effect, and that is to warn Sir Francis Farnes and enable him to escape. If therefore we cannot go on quietly, I propose that we return to our homes, for we shall accomplish nothing. This advice was sufficiently and evidently reasonable to meet with no dissension, a death-like stillness ensued, only broken by some two or three voices saying, in subdued tones, That's right, that's right, nobody speak. Come on then, said he who had given such judicious counsel, and the dark mass of men moved towards Sir Francis Farnes' house, as quietly as it was possible for such an assemblage to proceed. Indeed, saving the sound of the footsteps, nothing could be heard of them at all, and that regular tramp, tramp, tramp, would have puzzled anyone listening to it from any distance to know in which direction it was proceeding. In this way they went on until Sir Francis Farnes' house was reached, and even then a whispered word to halt was given, and all eyes were bent upon the building. From but one window out of the numerous ones with which the front of the mansion was studded, did there shine the least light, and from that there came rather an uncommonly bright reflection, probably arising from a reading lamp placed close to the window. A general impression they knew not why exactly, seemed to pervade everybody, that in the room from whence streamed that bright light was Sir Francis Farnes. The vampire's room, said several, the vampire's room, that is it. Yes, said he who had a kind of moral control over his comrades, I have no doubt, but he is there. What's to be done, asked several, make no noise, whatever, but stand aside, so as not to be seen from the door when it is opened. Yes, yes. I will knock for admittance, and the moment it is answered I will place this stick in such a manner within, that the door cannot be closed again. Upon my saying, advance, you will make a rush forward, and we shall have possession immediately of the house. All this was agreed to, the mop shrunk close to the walls of the house, and out of immediate observation from the hall door, or from any of the windows. And then the leader advanced, and knocked loudly, for admission. The silence was now of the most complete character that could be imagined. Those who came there, so bent upon vengeance, were thoroughly convinced of the necessity of extreme caution to save themselves, even yet, from being completely foiled. They had abundant faith from experience of the resources in the way of escape of Sir Francis Varney, that not one among them was there, who considered that there was any chance of capturing him, except by surprise. And when once they got hold of him, they determined he should not easily slip through their fingers. The knock for admission produced no effect, and after waiting three or four minutes, it was very provoking to find such a wonderful amount of caution and cunning completely thrown away. Try again, whispered one. Well, have patience, I'm going to try again. The man had the ponderous old-fashioned knocker in his hand, and was about to make another appeal to Sir Francis Varney's door, when a strange voice said, Perhaps you may as well say at once what you want, instead of knocking there to no purpose. He gave a start, for the voice seemed to come from the very door itself. Yet it sounded decidedly human, and upon closer inspection, it was seen that a little wicked gate, not larger than a man's face, had been opened from within. This was terribly provoking. Here was an extent of caution on the part of the garrison quite unexpected. What was to be done? Well, said the man who appeared at the little opening. Oh, said he who had knocked. I, well, I, that is to say, ahem, is Sir Francis Varney within? Well, ah, I say, is Sir Francis Varney within? Well, you have said it. Ah, but you have not answered it. No. Well, is he at home? There was a sign saying, so you had better, all of you, go back to the town again, for we are well provided with all material to resist any attack you may be fools enough to make. As he spoke, the servant shut the little square door with a bang that made his questioner jump again. Here was a dilemma. For more information or to volunteer, please visit thebrevox.org. Recording by Nicole Carl, St. Louis, Missouri, April 2008. Varney the Vampire, Volume 1 by Thomas Prescott-Prest, Chapter 48. The attack upon the vampire's house, the fury of the attack, the forcing of the doors, and the struggle. A council of war was now called among the belligerents, who were somewhat taken aback by the steady refusal of the serpent to admit them and their apparent determination to resist all endeavors on the part of the mob to get into and obtain possession of the house. It argued that they were prepared to resist all attempts, and it would cost some few lives to get into the vampire's house. This passed through the minds of many, as they retired behind the angle of the wall where the council was to be held. Here they looked in each other's faces as if to gather from that the general tone of the feelings of their companions. But here they saw nothing that intimated the least idea of going back as they came. It's all very well-made to take care of ourselves, you know, began one tall Barney fellow. But if we've beaten it to be stuck to death by a vampire, why, we must have the life out of him. I, so we must. Jack Hodge is right, we must kill him, and there is no sin in it, for he has no right to it. He's robbed some poor fellow of his life to prolong his own. I, I, that's the way he does, bring him out, I say, then see what we will do with him. Yes, catch him first, said one, and then we can dispose of him afterwards. I say, neighbours, don't you think it would be well to catch him first? Haven't we come on purpose? Yes, but do it. Ain't we trying it? You will presently when we come to get into the house. Well, what's to be done, said one. Here we are in a fix, I think, and I can't see our way out to it very clearly. I wish we could get in. But how is it questioned, I don't very well see, said a large specimen of humility. The best thing that can be done would be to go round and look over the whole house, and then we may come upon some part where it is far easier to get in than by the front door. But it won't do for us all to go round that way, said one, a small party only should go, else they will have other people stationed at one point, and if we can divide them, we shall beat them, because they have not enough to defend more than one point at a time. Now we are numerous enough to make several attacks. Oh, that's the way to bother them all round, they'll give in, and then the place is our own. No, no, said the big countrymen. I like to make a good Russian drive, all for us. You know what you have to do then, and you do it, you know? If you can. I, to be sure, if we can, as you say, but can't we? That's what I want to know. To be sure we can. Then we'll do it, mate, that's my mind, we'll do it. Come on, let's have another look at the street door. The big countrymen left the main body and resolutely walked up to the main avenue and approached the door, accompanied by about a dozen or less of the mob. When they came to the door, they commenced knocking and kicking most violently and assailing it with all kinds of things they could lay their hands upon. They continued at this violent exercise for some time, perhaps for five minutes, when the little square hole in the door was again opened and a voice was heard to say, you had better cease that kind of annoyance. We want to get in. It will cost you more lives to do so than you can afford to spare. We are well-armed and are prepared to resist any effort you can make. Oh, it's all very well, but, and you won't open, why we'll make you. That's all about it. This was said as the big countrymen and his companions were leaving the avenue towards the rest of the body. Then takes this as an earnest of what is to follow, said the man, and he discharged the contents of a blunderbuss through the small opening, and its report sounded to the rest of the mob like the report of a field-piece. Fortunately for the party retiring, the man couldn't take any aim. Else it is questionable how many of the party would have got off unwounded. As it was, several of them found stray slugs, were lodged in various parts of the persons, and accelerated their retreat from the house of the vampire. What luck! inquired one of the mob to the others as they came back. I'm afraid you had all the honour. Aye, aye, we have, and all the lead too, replied the man, as he placed his hand upon a besourced spot of his person, which bled in consequence of a wound. Well, what's to be done? Dang divine, oh, said one. Give it up, said another. No, no, have him out. I'll never give in while I can use a stick. They are in earnest, and so are we. Don't let us be frightened because they have a gun or two. They can't have many, and besides, if they have, we are too many for them. Besides, we shall all die in our beds. Hurrah! down with the vampire! So say I, lads. I don't want to be sucked to death when I'm a bed. Better die like a man than such a dog's death is that, and you have no revenge then. No, no. He has the better of us then. We'll have him out. We'll burn him. That's the way we'll do it. Aye, so we will. Only, let us get in. At that moment a chosen party returned, who had been round the house to make a reconnaissance. Well, well, inquired the mob. What can be done now? Where can we get in? In several places. All right, come along then. The place is our own. Stop a minute. They are armed at all points. And we must make an attack on our points. Else we may fail. A party must go round to the front door and attempt to beat it in. There are plenty of poles and things that could be used for such a purpose. There is, besides, a garden door that opens into the house, a kind of parlor, a kitchen door, a window in the flower garden, and an entrance into a storeroom. This place appears strong and is therefore unguarded. The very point to make an attack. Not quite. Why not? Because it can easily be defended and rendered useless to us. We must make an attack upon all places but that. And while they are being at these points, we can enter at that place, and then you will find them desert the other places when they see us inside. Hurrah! Down with the vampire! Said the mob as they listened to this advice and appreciated the plan. Down with the vampire! Now then, lads, divide and make the attack. Never mind their runs. They have, but very few. You rush in upon them, you will soon have the guns yourselves. Hurrah! Hurrah! shouted the mob. The mob now moved away in different bodies, each strong enough to carry the house. They seized upon a variety of poles and stones, and then made for the various doors and windows that were pointed out by those who had made the discovery. Each one of those who had formed the parties of observation formed a leader to the others, and once proceeded to the post assigned him. The attack was so sudden and so simultaneous that the servants were unprepared, and though they ran to the doors and fired away, still they did but little good, for the doors were soon forced open by the enraged rioters, who proceeded in a much more systematic operation, using long heavy pieces of timber, which were carried on the shoulders of several men, and driving with the force of battering rams, in fact they were against the door. Bang! went the battering ram. Crash! went the door, and the whole party rushed headlong in, carried forward by their own momentum, and fell prostrate, engine and all, into the passage. Now then we have them exclaim the servants who began to belabor the whole party with blows and every weapon they could secure. Loudly did the fallen men shout for assistance, and but for their fellows who came rushing in behind would have had but a sorry time of it. Hurrah! shouted the mob. The house is our own! Not yet! shouted the servants. Well try! said the mob, and they rushed forward to drive the servants back, and they met with a stout resistance, and as some of them had choppers and swords, there were a few wounds given, and presently Bang! went the blood underbuss. Two or three of the mob reeled and fell. This produced a momentary panic, and the servants then had the whole of the victory to themselves, and were about to charge and clear the passage of their enemies when a shout behind attracted their attention. That shout was caused by an entrance being gained in another quarter once the servants were flying, and all was disordered. Hurrah! hurrah! shouted the mob. The servants retreated to the stairs, and here united they made a stand and resolved to resist the whole force of the rioters, and they succeeded in doing so, too, for some minutes. Blows were given and taken in a desperate character. Somehow there were no deadly blows received by the servants. They were being forced and beaten, but they lost no life. This may be accounted for by the fact that the mob used no more deadly weapons than sticks. The servants of Sir Francis Varney on the contrary were mostly armed with deadly weapons, which, however, they did not use unnecessarily. They stood upon the hall steps, the grand staircase with long poles or sticks, about the size of quarter-staves, and with these they belabored those below, most unmercifully. Certainly the mob were by no means cowards, for the struggle to close with their enemies was as great as ever, and as firm as could well be. Indeed they rushed on with a desperation, truly characteristic of John Bull, and defied the heaviest blows for as fast as one was stricken down another occupied his place, and they insensibly pressed their close and compact front upon the servants, who were becoming fatigued and harassed. Fire again, exclaimed a voice from among the servants. The mob made no retrograde movement, but still continued to press onwards, and in another moment a loud report rang through the house and smoke hung over the heads of the mob. A long groan or two escaped some of the men who had been wounded, and is still louder from those who had not been wounded, and a dry rose of, down with the vampire, pull down, destroy, and burn the whole place, down with them all. A rush succeeded, and a few more discharges took place. When a shout above attracted the attention of both parties engaged in this fierce struggle, they paused by mutual consent to look and see what was the cause of that shout. End of Chapter 48 Chapter 49 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Nicole Carl, St. Louis, Missouri, April 2008. Varni the Vampire, Vol. 1 by Thomas Prescott Prest. Chapter 49 The interview between the mob and Sir Francis Varni. The mysterious disappearance. The wine cellars. The shout that had so discomposed the parties who were thus engaged in a terrific struggle came from a party above. Hoorah! Hoorah! They shouted a number of times, in a wild strain of delight. Hoorah! Hoorah! Hoorah! The fact was, a party of the mob had clambered up a veranda, and entered some of the rooms upstairs whence they emerged just above the landing near the spot where the servants were resisting in a mass the efforts of the mob. Hoorah! Shouted the mob below. Hoorah! Shouted the mob above. There was a momentary pause, and the servants divided themselves into two bodies, and one turned to face those above the other, who were below. A simultaneous shout was given by both parties of the mob, and a sudden rush was made by both parties, and the servants of Sir Francis Farni were broken in an instant. They were instantly separated and knocked about a good bit, but they were left to shift for themselves. The mob had a more important object in view. Down with the vampire, they shouted. Down with the vampire, shouted they, and they rushed helter-skelter through the rooms until they came to one where the door was partially open, and they could see some person very leisurely seated. Here he is! They cried, Hoorah! The vampire! Down with him! Kill him! Burn him! Hoorah! Down with the vampire! These sounds were shouted out by a score of voices, and they rushed headlong into the room, but here their violent and headlong precipitancy were suddenly restrained by the imposing and quiet appearance of the individual who was there seated. The mob entered the room, and there was a sight if it did not astound them, at least, it caused them to pause before the individual who was seated there. The room was filled with furniture, and there was a curtain drawn across the room, and about the middle of it there was a table behind which sat Sir Francis Farni himself, looking all smiles and courtesy. Well, dang my smock frock, said one, Hoorah thought this. He don't seem to care much about it. Well, I'm dead, said another. He seems pretty easy at all events. What is he going to do? Gentlemen, said Sir Francis Farni, rising with a blandest of smiles, pray, gentlemen, permit me to inquire the case of this condescension on your part. The visit is kind. The mob looked at Sir Francis, and then at each other, and then at Sir Francis again, but nobody spoke. They were awed by this gentlemanly and collected behavior. If you honour me with this visit, from pure affection and neighbourly goodwill, I thank you. Down with the vampire, said one, who was concealed behind the rest, and not so much abroad, as he had not seen Sir Francis. Sir Francis Farni rose to his full height, a light gleamed across his features. They were strongly defined then. His long front teeth, too, showed most strongly when he smiled, as he did now, and said in a bland voice. Gentlemen, I am at your service. Permit me to say you are all welcome to all I can do for you. I fear the interview will be somewhat inconvenient and unpleasant to you, as for myself, I am entirely at your service. As Sir Francis spoke, he bowed, and folded his hands together, and stepped forwards. But instead of coming onwards to them, he walked behind the curtain, and was immediately hid from their view. Down with the vampire, shouted one, down with the vampire, rang through the apartment, and the mob now not awed by the coolness and courtesy of Sir Francis rushed forward, and, overturning the table, tore down the curtain to the floor. But their amazement, there was no Sir Francis Farni present. Where is he? Where's the vampire? Where is he gone? These were the cries that escaped everyone's lips, yet no one could give an answer to them. There Sir Francis Farni was not. They were completely thunder-stricken. They could not find out where he had gone to. There was no possible means of escape that they could perceive. There was not an odd corner, nor even anything that could, by any possibility, give even a suspicion that a temporary concealment could take place. They looked over every inch of flooring and of windscotting. Not the remotest trace could be discovered. Where is he? I don't know, said one. I can't see where he could have gone. There ain't a hole as big as a keyhole. My eye, said one, I shouldn't at all be surprised if he would blow up the hole out. I don't say so. I never heard as hell vampires could do so much as that. They ain't the sort of people, said another. But if they can do one thing, they can do another. That's very true. And what's more, I never heard as hell a vampire could make himself into nothing before, yet he's done so. He may be in this room now. He may. My eyes, what precious long teeth he had. Yes, and he fixed one on him in your arm. He would have drawn every drop of blood out of your body. You may have pinned upon that, said an old man. He was very tall. Yes, too tall to be any good. I shouldn't like him to have laid hold of me, though, tall as he is. And then he would have lifted me high enough to break my neck when he let me fall. The mob routed about the room, tore everything out of its place. And as the object of their search seemed to be far enough beyond their reach, their courage rose in proportion. And they shouted and screamed with a proportionate increase of noise and bustle. And at length they ran about, mad with rage and vexation, doing all the mischief that was in their power to inflict. Then they became mischievous and tore the furniture from its place, and broke it into pieces, and then amused themselves with breaking it up, throwing pieces at the pure glasses in which they made dreadful holes. And when that was gone, they broke up the frames. Every hole and corner of the house was searched, but there was no Sir Francis Varney to be found. The cellars, the cellars, shouted a voice. The cellars, the cellars, re-echoed nearly every pair of lips in the whole place. In another moment there was crushing and crowding to get down into the cellars. Hooray! said one as he knocked off the neck of the bottle that first came to hand. Here's luck to vampire-hunting success to our chase! So say I, neighbor, but is that your manners to drink before your bettas? So, saying, the speaker knocked the other's elbow while he was in the act of lifting the wine to his mouth, and thus he upset it over his face and eyes. Then cried the man. How it makes my eyes smart, dang thee, if I could see-eyed ring thy neck! Success to vampire-hunting, said one. May we be lucky yet, said another. I wouldn't be luckier than this, said another, as he too emptied a bottle. We couldn't desire better entertainment where the reckoning is all-paid. Excellent! Very good! Capital wine this, I say, Uggins. Well, what are you drinking? Wine. What wine? Dying divine, oh, was the reply. It's wine, I suppose, for I know it ain't beer nor spirits, so it must be wine. Are you sure it ain't bottled men's blood? Hey, bottled blood man, who knows what a vampire drinks? It may be his wine. He may feast upon that before he goes to bed overnight, drink anybody's health, and make himself two full on a bottle of blood. Oh, dying dumb, so sick, I wish I hadn't taken the stuff. It may be, as you say, neighbour, and then we be cannibals, or vampires. There's a pretty thing to think of. By this time some were drunk, some were partially so, and the remainder were crowding into the cellars to get their share of the wine. The servants had now slunk away. They were no longer noticed by the rioters, who, having nobody to oppose them, no longer thought of anything, saving the searching after the vampire and the destruction of property. Several hours had been spent in this manner, and yet they could not find the object of their search. There was not a room, or cupboard, or a cellar that was capable of containing a cat that they did not search, besides a part of the rioters keeping a very strict watch on the outside of the house and all of the grounds to prevent the possibility of the escape of the vampire. There was a general cessation of active hostilities at that moment, a reaction after the violent excitement and exertion they had made to get in. Then the escape of their victim, and the mysterious manner in which he got away, was also a cause of the reaction, and the rioters looked in each other's countenances inquiringly. Above all, the discovery of the wine cellar tended to withdraw them from violent measures. But this could not last long. There must be an end to such a scene. For there never was a large body of men assembled for an evil purpose, whoever were, for any length of time, peaceable. To prevent the more alarming effects of drunkenness, some few of the rioters, after having taken some small portion of the wine, became, from the peculiar flavor it possessed, impugned with the idea that it was really blood, and, forthwith, commenced an instant attack upon the wines and liqueurs, and they were soon mingling in one stream throughout the cellars. This destruction was loudly declared against by a large portion of the rioters who were drinking. But before they could make any effort to say the liqueur, the work of destruction not only begun, but was ended. And the consequence was the cellars were very soon evacuated by the moth. End of chapter 49. Volume 1 by Thomas Prescott Prest Chapter 50 The Destruction of Sir Francis Varney's House by Fire The Arrival of the Military and a Second Mob Thus many moments had not elapsed ere the feelings of the rioters became directed into a different channel from that in which it had so lately flowed. When urged about the house and grounds for the vampire, they became impatient and angry at not finding him. Many believed that he was yet about the house, while many were of opinion that he had flown away by some mysterious means only possessed by vampires and such like people. Fire the house and burn him out, said one. Fire the house. Burn the den. Now arose and shouts from all present. And then the mob were again animated by the love of mischief that seemed to be the strongest feelings that animated them. Burn him out! Burn him out! Were the only words that could be heard from any of the mob. The words ran through the house like wildfire. Nobody thought of anything else and all were seen running about in confusion. There was no want of goodwill in the part of the mob to the undertaking, far from it, and they proceeded in the work connemore. They worked together with right goodwill and the result was soon seen by the heaps of combustible materials that were collected in a short time from all parts of the house. All the old dry wood furniture that could be found was piled up in a heap and to these were added a number of faggots and also some shavings that were found in the cellar. All right! exclaimed one man in exultation. Yes! replied a second. All right! All right! Set light to it and he will be smoked out if not burned. Let us be sure that all are out of the house. Suggested one of the bystanders. Aye! Aye! shouted several. Give them all a chance. Search through the house and give them a warning. Very well! Give me the light and then when I come back I will set light to the fire at once and then I shall know all is empty and so will you too. This was at once agreed to by all with acclamations the light being handed to the man he ascended the stairs crying out in a loud voice Come out! Come out! The house is on fire! Fire! Fire! Fire! shouted the mob as a chorus every now and then at intervals. In about ten minutes more there came a cry of All right! The house is empty from up the stairs and the man descended in haste to the hall. Make haste lads and fire away for I see the red coats are leaving the town. Hurrah! Hurrah! shouted the infuriated mob. Fire! Fire! Fire the house! Burn out the vampire! Burn down the house! Burn him out and see if he can stand fire. Amidst all this tumult there came a sudden blaze upon all around for the pile had been fired. Hurrah! shouted the mob. Hurrah! and they danced like maniacs round the fire looking in fact like so many wild Indians dancing around their roasted victims or some demons at an infernal feast. The torch had been put to twenty different places and the flames united into one and suddenly shot up with a velocity and roared with a sound that caused many who were present to make a precipitate retreat from the hall. This soon became a necessary measure of self-preservation and it required no urging to induce them to quit a place that was burning rapidly and then furiously. Get the poles and firewood! Get faggots! shouted some of the mob and lo it was done almost by magic. They brought the faggots and wood piled up for winter use and laid them near all the doors and especially the main entrance. Nay, every gate or door belonging to the outhouses was brought forward and placed upon the fire which now began to reach the upper stories. Hurrah! Fire! Hurrah! Fire! And a loud shout of triumph came from the mob as they viewed the progress of the flames as they came roaring and tearing through the house doors and the windows. Each new victory of the element was a signal to the mob for a cheer and a hearty cheer too came from them. Where is the vampire now? exclaimed one. Ha! Where is he? said another. If he be there, said the man pointing to the flames, I reckon he's got a warm birth of it and at the same time very little water to boil in his kettle. Ha! Ha! What a funny old man is Bob Mason. He's always poking fun. He'd joke if his wife were dying. There is many a true word spoken in jest, suggested another, and to my mind Bob Mason wouldn't be very much grieved if his wife were to die. Die, said Bob. She and I have lived in quarrel daily, a matter of five and thirty years and if that ain't enough to make a man sick of being married and of his wife, hang me, that's all. I say I am tired. This was said with much apparent sincerity and several laughed at the old man's heartiness. It's all very well, said the old man. It's all very well to laugh about matters you don't understand, but I know it isn't a joke, not a bit on it. I tells you what it is, neighbor. I made but one grand mistake in all my life. And what was that? To tie myself to a woman. Why, you'd get married tomorrow if your wife were to die today, said one. If I did, I hope I may marry a vampire. I should have something then to think about. I should know what's o'clock. But as for my old woman, Lord, Lord, I wish Sir Francis Varney had had her for life. No warrant when the next natural term of his existence came around again, he wouldn't be in no hurry to renew it. If he did, I should say that vampires had the happy lot of managing women, which I haven't got. No, nor anybody else. A loud shout now attracted their attention, and upon looking in the quarter whence it came, they described a large body of people coming towards them. From one end of the mob could be seen a long string of red coats. Red coats shouted one. The military shouted another. It was plain the military who had been placed in the town to crawl disturbances had been made acquainted with the proceedings at Sir Francis Varney's house, and were now marching to relieve the place and to save the property. They were, as we have stated, accompanied by a vast concourse of people who came out to see what they were going to see, and seeing the flames at Sir Francis Varney's house, they determined to come all the way and be present. The military, seeing the disturbance in the distance and the flames issuing from the windows, made the best of their way towards the scene of tumult with what speed they could make. Here they come, said one. Yes, just in time to see what is done. Yes, they can go back and say we have burned the vampire's house down. Hurrah! Hurrah! shouted the mob in prolonged accents, and it reached the ears of the military. The officer urged the men onwards, and they responded to his words by exerting themselves to step out a little faster. Oh, they should have been here before this. It's no use now. They are too late. Yes, they are too late. I wonder if the vampire can breathe through the smoke and live in fire, said one. I should think he must be able to do so. If he can stand shooting as we know he can, you can't kill a vampire, but yet he must be consumed if the fire actually touches him, but not unless he can bear almost anything. So he can. Hurrah! shouted the mob as a tall flame shot through the top windows of the house. The fire had got the ascendant now, and no hopes could be entertained, however extravagant, of saving the smallest article that had been left in the mansion. Hurrah! shouted the mob with the military, who came up with them. Hurrah! shouted the others in reply. Quick march, said the officer, and then, in a loud commanding tone, he shouted, Clear the way there. Clear the way. Aye, there's room enough for you, said the old mason. What are you making so much noise about? There was a general laugh at the officer, who took no notice of the words, but ordered his men up before the burning pile, which was now an immense mass of flame. The mob, who had accompanied the military, now mingled with the mob that had set the house of Sir Francis Varney on fire, ere the military had come up with them. Halt! cried out the officer, and the men, obedient to the word of command, halted, and drew up in a double line before the house. There were then some words of command issue, and some more given to some of the subalterns, and a party of men under the command of a sergeant was sent off from the main body to make circuit of the house and grounds. The officer gazed for some moments upon the burning pile without speaking, and then, turning to the next in command, he said in low tones, as he looked upon the mob, we have come too late. Yes, much. The house is now nearly gutted. It is. And those who came crowding along with us are inextricably mingled with the others, who have been the cause of all this mischief. There's no distinguishing them one from another. And if you did, you could not say who had done it and who had not. You could prove nothing. Exactly. I shall not attempt to take prisoners, unless any act is perpetrated beyond what has been done. It is a singular affair. Very. This Sir Francis Varney is represented to be a courteous, gentlemanly man, said the officer. No doubt about it, but he's beset by a parcel of people who do not mind cutting a throat if they can get an opportunity of doing so, and I expect they will. Yes, when there is a popular excitement against any man, he had better leave this part at once and altogether. It is dangerous to tamper with popular prejudices. No man who has any value for his life ought to do so. It is a sheer act of suicide. End of Chapter 50. Recording by Roger Maline. Chapter 51 of Varney, The Vampire. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Roger Maline. Varney, The Vampire. Volume 1 by Thomas Prescott-Prest. Chapter 51. The Burning of Varney's House. A night scene. Popular superstition. The officer ceased to speak and then the party whom he had sent around the house and grounds returned and gained the main body orderly enough and the sergeant went forward to make his report to his superior officer. After the usual salutation, he waited for the inquiry to be put to him as to what he had seen. Well, Scott, what have you done? I went around the premises, sir, looking to your instructions, but saw no one, either in the vicinity of the house or in the grounds around it. No strangers, eh? No, sir, none. You saw nothing at all likely to lead to any knowledge as to who it was that has caused this catastrophe? No, sir. Have you learned anything among the people who are the perpetrators of this fire? No, sir. Well, then, that will do, unless there is anything else that you can think of. Nothing further, sir, unless it is that I heard some of them say that Sir Francis Varney has perished in the flames. Good heavens! So I heard, sir. That must be impossible, and yet why should it be so? Go back, Scott, and bring me some person who can give me some information upon this point. The sergeant departed towards the people who looked at him without any distrust for he came single-handed, though they thought he came with the intention of learning what they knew of each other and so stroll about with the intention of getting up accusations against them. But this was not the case. The officer didn't like the work well enough. He'd rather have been elsewhere. At length, the sergeant came to one man, whom he accosted, and said to him, Do you know anything of yonder fire? Yes, I do know. It is a fire. Yes, and so do I. My friend, said the sergeant, When a soldier asks a question, he does not expect an uncivil answer. But a soldier may ask a question that may have an uncivil end to it. He may, but it is easy to say so. I do say so, then, now. Then I'll not trouble you anymore. The sergeant moved on a pace or two more, and then, turning to the mob, he said, Is there anyone among you who can tell me anything concerning the fate of Sir Francis Varney? Burnt! Did you see him, Burnt? No, but I saw him in the flames. No, before the house was on fire. In the house? Yes, and he has not been seen to leave it since, and we conclude he must have been burned. Will you come and say as much to my commanding officer? It's all I want. Shall I be detained? No. Then I will go, said the man, and he hobbled out of the crowds toward the sergeant. I will go and see the officer and tell him what I know, and that is very little and can prejudice no one. Hurrah! said the crowd when they heard this latter assertion. For at first they began to be in some alarm, lest there should be something wrong about this, and some of them get identified as being active in the fray. The sergeant let the man back to the spot where the officer stood a little way in advance of his men. Well, Scott, he said, what have we here? A man who has volunteered a statement, sir. Oh. Well, my man, can you say anything concerning all this disturbance that we have here? No, sir. Then what did you come here for? I understood the sergeant to want someone who could speak of Sir Francis Varney. Well, I saw him where? In the house. Exactly. But have you not seen him out of it? Not since, nor anyone else, I believe. Where was he? Upstairs, where he suddenly disappeared, and nobody can tell where he may have gone to. But he has not been seen out of the house since, and they say he could not have gone bodily out if they had not seen him. He must have been burnt, said the officer, amusingly. He could not escape, one would imagine, without being seen by someone out of such a mob. Oh, dear no, for I am told they place to watch at every hole, window, or door, however high. And they say nothing of them, not even fly out. Fly out, I'm speaking of a man. And I have a vampire, said the man carelessly. A vampire. Poo, poo. Oh no, Sir Francis Varney is a vampire. There can be no sort of doubt about it. You have only to look at him, and you will soon be satisfied of that. See his great sharp teeth in front, and ask yourself what they are for, and you will soon find the answer. They are to make holes with, in the bodies of his victims, through which he can suck their blood. The officer looked at the man in astonishment for a few moments, as if he doubted his own ears. And then he said, Are you serious? I am ready to swear to it. Well, I have heard a great deal about popular superstition, and thought I had seen something of it. But this is decidedly the worst case that I have ever saw or heard of. You had better go home, my man, than by your presence countenance such a gross absurdity. For all that, said the man, Sir Francis Varney is a vampire, a bloodsucker, a human bloodsucker. Get away with you, said the officer, and do not repeat such folly before anyone. The man almost jumped when he heard the tone in which this was spoken, for the officer was both angry and contemptuous when he heard the words of the man. These people, he added, turning to the sergeant, are ignorant in the extreme. One would think we had got into the country of vampires instead of a civilized community. The day was going down now, the last rays of the setting sun glimmered upwards, and still shone upon the treetops. The darkness of night was still fast closing around them. The mob stood a motley mass of human beings, wedged together, dark and somber, gazing upon the mischief that had been done, the work of their hands. The military stood at ease before the burning pile, and by their order and regularity, presented a contrast to the mob, as strongly by their bright gleaming arms as by their dress and order. The flames now envelop the whole mansion. There was not a window or a door from which the fiery element did not burst forth in clouds, and forked flames came rushing forth with a velocity truly wonderful. The red glare of the flames fell upon all objects around for some distance, the more especially so as the sun had sunk, and a bank of clouds rose from beneath the horizon and excluded all his rays. There was no twilight, and there was as yet no moon. The countryside was enveloped in darkness, and the burning house could be seen from miles around and formed a rallying point to all men's eyes. The engines that were within reach came tearing across the country and came to the fire, but they were of no avail. There was no supply of water saved from the ornamental ponds. These they could only get at by means that were tedious and unsatisfactory, considering the emergency of the case. The house was a lone one, and it was being entirely consumed before they arrived, and therefore there was not the remotest chance of saving the least article. Had they ever such a supply of water, nothing could have been affected by it. Thus the men stood idly by, passing the remarks upon the fire and the mob. Those who stood around and within the influence of the red glare of the flames looked like so many demons in the infernal regions, watching the progress of lighting the fire, which we are told by good Christians as the doom of the unfortunate in spirit and the woefully unlucky in circumstances. It was a strange sight that, and there were many persons who would, without doubt, have rather been snug by their own fireside than they would have remained here, but it happened that no one felt inclined to express his inclination to his neighbor, and consequently no one said anything on the subject. None would venture to go alone across the fields where the spirit of the vampire might, for all they knew to the contrary, be waiting to pounce upon them and worry them. No, no. No man would have quitted that mob to go back alone to the village. They would sooner have stood there all night through. That was an alternative that none of the number would very willingly accept. The hours passed away, and the house that had been that morning a noble and well-furnished mansion was now a smoldering heap of ruins. The flames had become somewhat subdued, and there was now more smoke than flames. The fire had exhausted itself. There was now no more material that could serve it for fuel, and the flames began to become gradually enough subdued. Suddenly there was a rush, and then a bright flame shot upward for an instant, so bright and so strong that it flew a flash of light over the country from miles. But it was only momentary, and it subsided. The roof, which had been built strong enough to resist almost anything after being burned for a considerable time, suddenly gave way, and came in with a tremendous crash, and then all was for a moment darkness. After this the fire might be said to be subdued, it having burned itself out, and the flames that could now be seen were but the result of so much charred wood that would probably smolder away for a day or two if left to itself to do so. A dense mass of smoke arose from the ruins, and blackened the atmosphere around, and told the spectators the work was done. End of Chapter 51 Recording by Roger Moline Chapter 52 of Varney, The Vampire This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Roger Moline Varney, The Vampire Volume 1 By Thomas Prescott-Prest Chapter 52 The Return of the Mob and Military to the Town The Madness of the Mob The Grocer's Revenge On the termination of the conflagration, or rather the fall of the roof, with the loss of grandeur in the spectacle, men's minds began to be free from the excitement that chained them to the spot, watching the progress of that element which has been truly described as a very good servant, but a very bad master. And of the truth of this, everyone must be well satisfied. There was now remaining little more than the livid glare of the hut and burning embers, and this did not extend far, for the walls were too strongly built to fall in from their own weight. They were strong and stout, and intercepted the little light the ashes would have given out. The mob now began to feel fatigued and chilly. It had been standing and walking about many hours, and the approach of exhaustion could not be put off much longer, especially as there was no longer any great excitement to carry it off. The officer, seeing that nothing was to be done, collected his men together and they were soon seen in motion. He had been ordered to stop any tumult that he might have seen and to save any property, but there was nothing to do now. The property that could have been saved was now destroyed, and the mob were beginning to disperse and creep towards their own houses. The order was then given for the men to take close order and keep together, and the word to march was given, which the men obeyed with alacrity, for they had no good will in stopping there the whole of the night. The return to the village of both the mob and the military was not without its vicissitudes. The military, however, taking the open paths, soon diminished the distance and that too, with little or no accidents, saved such as might have been expected from the state of the fields after they had been so much trodden down of late. Not so the townspeople or the peasantry, for by way of keeping up their spirits and amusing themselves in their way home, they commenced larking, as they called it, which often meant the execution of practical jokes that sometimes were of a serious nature. The night was dark at that hour, especially so when there was a number of persons traversing about so that little or nothing could be seen. The mistakes and blunders that were made were numerous. In one place there were a number of people penetrating a path that led only to a hedge and a deep ditch. Indeed, it was a burk very deep and muddy. Here they came to a stop and endeavored to ascertain its width, but the little reflected light they had was deceptive and it did not appear so broad as it was. Oh, I can jump it, exclaimed one. And so can I, said another. I have done so before and why should I not do so now? This was unanswerable and as there were many present at least a dozen were eager to jump. If they can do it, I know I can, said a brawny countryman, so I'll do it at once. The sooner the better, shouted someone behind or you'll have no room for a run. Here's a lot of them coming up. Push over as quickly as you can. Thus urged, the jumpers at once made a rush to the edge of the ditch and many jumped and many more from the prevailing darkness did not see exactly where the ditch was and taking one or two steps too many found themselves up above the waist in muddy water. Nor were those who jumped much better off for nearly all jumped short or fell backwards into the stream and were dragged out in a terrible state. Oh Lord, oh Lord, exclaimed one poor fellow dripping wet and shivering with cold. I shall die. Oh, the rheumatism. There'll be a pretty winter for me. I'm half dead. Hold your noise, said another, and help me to get the mud out of my eye. I can't see. Never mind, added a third, considering how you jump I don't think you want to see. This comes a hunting vampires. Oh, it's all a judgment. Who knows but he may be in the air. It is nothing to laugh at as I shouldn't be surprised if he were. Only think how precious pleasant. However pleasant it may be to you, remarked one, it's profitable to a good many. How so? Why, see the number of things that'll be spoiled. Coats torn, hats crushed, heads broken, and shoes burst. Oh, it's an ill wind that blows nobody any good. So it is, but you may benefit anybody you like, so you don't do it at my expense. In one part of a field where there were some styles and gates, a big countryman caught a fat shopkeeper with the arms of the style, a terrible poke in the stomach. While the breath was knocked out of the poor man's stomach, and he was gasping with agony, the fellow said to laughing and said to his companions who were of the same class, I say, Jim, look at the grocer. He hasn't got any wind to spare. I'd run him for a wager, see how he gapes like a fish out of water. The poor shopkeeper felt indeed like a fish out of water. And as he afterwards declared, he felt just as if he had had a red hot clockweight thrust into the midst of his stomach However, the grocer would be revenged upon his tormentor, who had now lost sight of him. But the fat man, after a time, recovering his wind and the pain in his stomach becoming less intense, he gathered himself up. My name ain't Jones, he muttered. If I don't be one to his one for that, I'll do something that shall make him remember what it is to insult a respectable tradesman. I'll never forgive such an insult. It is dark, and that's why it is he is dare to do this. Filled with dire thoughts and a spirit of revenge, he looked from side to side to see what he could affect his object, but could espy nothing. It's shameful, he muttered. What would I give for a little retort? I'd plaster his ugly countenance. As he spoke, he placed his hands on some pales to rest himself when he found that they stuck to them. Had that day been newly pitched? A bright idea now struck him. If I could only get a handful of this stuff, he thought, I should be able to serve him out for serving me out. I will, cost what it may. I'm resolved upon that. I'll not have my wind knocked out and my inside set on fire for nothing. No, no, I'll be revenged on him. With this view, he felt over the pales and found that he could scrape off a little only, but not with his hands. Indeed, it only plastered them. He therefore marched about for something to scrape it off with. Ah, I have a knife, a large pocket knife. That'll do. That is the sort of thing I want. He immediately commenced feeling for it, but had scarcely got his hand into his pocket when he found there would be a great difficulty in either pushing it in further for the pitch made it difficult to do either and his pocket stuck to his hands like a glove. Damn it, said the grocer. Who would have thought of that? Here's a pretty go. Curse that fellow. He is the cause of all this. I'll be revenged upon him if it's a year hence. The enraged grocer drew his hand out, but was unable to affect his object in withdrawing the knife also. But he saw something shining. He stooped to pick it up, exclaiming as he did so in a gratified tone of voice, ah, here's something that'll do better. As he made a grasp at it, he found he had inserted his hand into something soft. God bless me, what now? He pulled his hand hastily away and found that it stuck slightly and then he saw what it was. Ah, ah, the very thing. Surely it must have been placed here on purpose by the people. The fact was, he had placed his hand into a pot of pitch that had been left by the people who had been at work at pitching the pails, but had been attracted by the fire at Sir Francis Varney's and to see which they had left their work and the pitch was left on a smoldering peat fire so that when Mr. Jones, the grocer, accidentally put his hand into it, he found it just warm. When he made this discovery, he dabbed his hand again into the pitch-pot, exclaiming, in for a penny, in for a pound. And he endeavored to secure as large a handful of the slippery and sticky stuff as he could, and this done he set off to come up with the big countryman who had done him so much indignity and made his stomach uncomfortable. He soon came up with him, for the man had stopped rather behind and was larking, as it is called, with some men to whom he was a companion. He had slipped down a bank and was partially sitting down in the soft mud. In his bustle, the little grocer came down with a slide close to the big countryman. Ah, ah, my little grocer, said the countryman, holding out his hand to catch him and drawing him towards himself. You will come and sit down by the side of your old friend. As he spoke, he endeavored to pull Mr. Jones down too, but that individual only replied by fetching the countryman a swinging smack across the face with a handful of pitch. There, take that, and now we are quits. We shall be old friends after this, eh? Are you satisfied? You'll remember me, I'll warrant. As the grocer spoke, he rubbed his hands over the face of the fallen man and then rushed from the spot with all the haste he could make. The countryman sat a moment or two confounded, cursing and sputtering, vowing vengeance, believing that it was mud only that had been plastered over his face. But when he put his hands up and found out what it was, he roared and bellowed like a town bull. He cried out to his companions that his eyes were pitched, but they only laughed at him, thinking he was having some foolish lark with them. It was next day before he got home, for he wandered about all night, and it took him a week to wash the pitch off by means of grease. And ever afterwards, he recollected the pitching of his face, nor did he ever forget the grocer. Thus it was, the whole party returned a long while after dark across the fields, with all the various accidents that were likely to befall such an assemblage of people. The vampire hunting cost many of them dear, for clothes were injured on all sides, hats lost, and shoes missing in a manner that put the chariots to much inconvenience. Soon afterwards the military retired to their quarters, and the townspeople at length became tranquil, and nothing more was heard or done that night. End of Chapter 52 Recording by Roger Maline Chapter 53 Of Varney, the Vampire This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Nicole Carl St. Louis, Missouri October 2008 Varney, the Vampire Volume 1 By Thomas Prescott Prest Chapter 53 The Departure of the Bannerworths From the Hall The New Abode Jack Pringle Pilot During that very evening on which the house of Sir Francis Varney was fired by the mob, another scene, and one of a different character was enacted at Bannerworth Hall, where the owners of that ancient place were departing from it. It was towards the latter part of the day that Flora Bannerworth, Mrs. Bannerworth, and Henry Bannerworth were preparing themselves to depart from the house of their ancestors. The intended proprietor was, as we may have already been made acquainted with, the old admiral, who had taken the place somewhat mysteriously, considering the way in which he usually did business. The admiral was walking up and down the lawn before the house, and looking up at the windows every now and then, and turning to Jack Pringle, he said, Jack, your dog. Aye, aye, sir. Mind you convey these women to the right port, do you hear? And no mistaking the bearings, do you hear? Aye, aye, sir. These crafts want to care, and you are pilot, commander, and all. So mind and keep your weather eye open. Aye, aye, sir. I know the craft well enough and I know the routes, too. There'll be no end of foundering against the breakers to find where they lie. No, no, Jack, you didn't do that. But mind your bearings, Jack, mind your bearings. Never fear. I know him well enough. My eyes ain't laid up in ordinary it. Aye? What do you mean by that, you dog, eh? Nothing. Only I can see without helps to read or glasses either. So I know one place from another. There was now someone moving within, and the admiral followed by Jack Pringle entered the hall. Henry Bannerworth was there. They were all ready to go when the coach came for them, which the admiral had ordered for them. Jack, you lover, where are you? Aye, aye, sir. Here I am. Go and station yourself in some place where you can keep a good look out for the coach and come and report when you see it. Aye, aye, sir, said Jack, and away he went from the room and stationed himself up in one of the trees that commanded a good view of the main road for some distance. Admiral Bell, said Henry, here we are, thrusting implicitly to you, and in doing so I am sure I am doing right. You will see that, said the admiral. All's fair and honest as yet, and what is to come will speak for itself. I hope you won't suffer from any of these nocturnal visits, said Henry. I don't much care about them, but old Admiral Bell doesn't strike his colours to an enemy, however ugly he may look. No, no, it must be a better craft than his own that'll take him, and one who won't run away, but that will grapple yard-arm and yard-arm, you know? Why, Admiral, you must have seen many dangers in your time and be used to all kinds of disturbances and conflicts. You have heard a life of experience. Yes, and experiences come pretty thick sometimes, I can tell you, when it comes to the shape of the Frenchman's broadsides. I dare say, then, it must be rather awkward. Death by the law, said the Admiral, to stop one of them with your head, I assure you. I dare not make the attempt to myself, though I have often seen it done. I dare say, but here are Flora and my mother. As he spoke, Flora and her mother entered the apartment. Well, Admiral, we are all ready, and though I may feel somewhat sorry at leaving the old hall, yet it arises from attachment to the place and not any disconclination to be beyond the reach of these dreadful alarms. And I, too, shall be at no means sorry, said Flora. I am sure it is some gratification to know we leave a friend here, rather than some others, who would have had the place if they could have got it by any means. Ah, that's true enough, Miss Flora, said the Admiral, but we'll run the enemy down yet, depend upon it. Be free from these terrors, and now, as you have promised, do not let yourself be seen anywhere at all. You have our promises, Admiral, and they shall be religiously kept. I can assure you. Boat ahoy, ahoy! shouted Jack. What boat? said the Admiral, surprised, and then he muttered, Confund you for a lubber. Didn't I tell you to mind your bearings, my eyes, sir, and so I did. You did? Yes, here they are, squint over the larboard bulkheads, as they call walls, and then entwine them two trees on the starboard side of the course, then straight ahead for a few hundred fathoms, when you come to a funnel as is smoking like the crater of Mount Vesuvius, and then in a line with that on the top of the hill comes a boat. Will, said the Admiral, that'll do. Now, go open the gates and keep a bright look out, and if you see anybody near your watch, why, douse their glim. Aye, aye, sir, said Jack, and he disappeared. Rather elusive description, said Henry as he thought of Jack's report to the Admiral. Oh, it is Seaman's report. I know what he means. It's quicker and planer and Jack can't talk any other, you see. By this time the coach had come into the yard, and the whole party descended into the courtyard, where they came to take leave of the old place. Farewell, Admiral. Goodbye, said the Admiral. I hope the place you are going to will be as such as will please you. I hope it will. I am sure we shall endeavour to be pleased with it, and I am pretty sure we shall. Goodbye. Farewell, Admiral Bell, said Henry. You remember your promises. I do. Goodbye, Mr. Trillingworth. Goodbye, said Mr. Trillingworth, who came up to bid them farewell, a pleasant journey, and may you all be the happier for it. You do not come with us? No, I have some business. Goodbye. Goodbye, said Mr. Trillingworth, who came up to bid them farewell, a pleasant journey, and may you all be the happier for it. You do not come with us? No, I have some business of importance to see, too. Else I should have the greatest pleasure in doing so. But, goodbye, we shall not be long apart, I dare say. I hope not, said Henry. The door of the carriage was shut by the Admiral, who looked around, saying, Jack, Jack Bringle, what are you, you dog? I, said Jack, where have you been, too? Only been for pigtail, said Jack. I forgot it, and I couldn't sit sail without it. You, dog, you, didn't I tell you to mind your bearings? So I will, said Jack, for an aft, for an aft, Admiral. You had better, said the Admiral, who, however, relaxed into a broad grin, which he concealed from Jack Bringle. Jack mounted the coach box, and away it went, just as it was getting dark. The old Admiral had locked up all the rooms in the presence of Henry Bannerworth, and when the coach had gone out of sight, Mr. Chillingworth came back to the hall, where he had joined the Admiral. Well, he said, they are gone, Admiral Bell, and we are alone. We have a clear stage and no favour. The two things of all others I most desire. Now, they will be strangers where they are going to, and that will be something gained. I will endeavour to do something if I can get yard arm and yard arm with these pirates. I'll make them feel the weights of true metal. I'll board them. I'll do everything, everything that can be done. Aye, aye. The coach in which the family of the Bannerworths were carried away continued its course without any lead or hindrance, and they met no one on their road during the whole drive. The fact was nearly everybody was at the conflagration at Sir Francis Varney's house. Flora knew not which way they were going, and after a time all trace of the road was lost. Darkness set in, and they all sat in silence in the coach. At length, after some time had been spent thus, Flora Bannerworth turned to Jack Pringle and said, are we near, or have we much farther to go? Not very much, ma'am, said Jack. All's right, however, she'd been in the direct course and no break is ahead. No lookout necessary, however there's a land lover aloft to keep a lookout. As this was not very intelligible and Jack seemed to have his own reasons for silence, they asked him no further questions. But in about three-quarters of an hour during which time the coach had been driving through the trees into a standstill by a sudden pull of the check-string from Jack, who said, you know all, take in sails and drop anchor. Is this the place? Yes, here we are, said Jack. We're in port now at all events, and he began to sing, the trials and the dangers of the voyages passed when the coach door opened and they all got out and looked about them where they were. Up the garden, if you please, ma'am, as quick as you can, the night air is very cold. Flora and her mother and brother took the hint, which was meant by Jack to mean that they were not to be seen outside. They had once entered a pretty garden and then they came to a very neat and picturesque cottage. They had no time to look up at it as the door was immediately opened by an elderly female who was intended to wait upon them. Soon after Jack Pringle and the coachman entered the passage with the small amount of luggage which they had brought with them. This was deposited into the passage and then Jack went out again and after a few minutes there was a sound of wheels which intimated that the coach had driven off. Jack, however, returned in a few minutes afterwards having secured the wicker gate at the end of the garden and then entered the house, shutting the door carefully after him. Flora and her mother looked over the apartments in which they were shown with some surprise. It was and everything such as they could wish, indeed, though it could not be termed handsomely or extravagantly furnished, or that the things were new, yet there was all that convenience and comfort could require in some little of the luxuries. Well, said Flora, this is very thoughtful of the general. The place will rally be charming and the garden too, delightful. Must it be made of just now, said Jack? If you please, ma'am, there is the orders at present. Very well, said Flora, smiling. I suppose, Mr. Pringle, we must obey them. Jack, Pringle, if you please, said Jack, my command is only temporary. I ain't got a commission. End of Chapter 53 Chapter 54 of Varney the Vampire This is a LibriVoxer This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Roger Maline Varney the Vampire Volume 1 by Thomas Prescott-Prest Chapter 54 The Lonely Watch and The Adventure in the Deserted House It is now quite night and so peculiar and solemn a stillness reigns in an about Bannerworth Hall and its surrounding grounds that one might have supposed it a place of the dead, deserted completely after sunset by all who would still hold kindred with the living. There was not a breath of air stirring, and this circumstance added greatly to the impression of profound repose of the whole scene exhibited. The wind during the day had been rather of a squally character but towards nightfall as is often usual after a day of such a character it had completely lulled and the serenity of the scene was unbroken even by the faintest sigh from a wandering zephyr. The moon rose late at that period and as is always the case at that interval between sunset and the dawn of that luminary which makes the night so beautiful the darkness was of the most profound character. It was one of those nights to produce melancholy reflections a night on which a man would be apt to review his past life and to look into the hidden recesses of his soul to see if conscience could make a coward of him in the loneliness and stillness that breathed around. It was one of those nights in which wanderers in the solitude of nature feel that the eye of heaven is upon them and on which there seems to be a more visible connection between the world and its great creator than upon ordinary occasions. The solemn and melancholy appear places once instinct with life when deserted by those familiar forms and faces that have long inhabited them. There is no desert no uninhabited isle in the far ocean no wild, barren, pathless tract of unmitigated sterility which could for one moment compare in point of loneliness and desolation to a deserted city. Strip London, mighty and majestic as it is, of the busy swarm of humanity that throng its streets, its suburbs, its temples, its public edifices and its private dwellings and how awful would be the walk of one solitary man throughout its noiseless thoroughfares. If madness sees not upon him ere he had been long the sole survivor of a race, he would need be cast in no common mold. And to descend from great things to smaller from the huge leviathan city to one mansion far removed from the noise and bustle of conventional life, we may imagine the sort of desolation that reigned through Bannerworth Hall when, for the first time after nearly a hundred and fifty years of occupation, it was deserted by the representatives of that family, so many members of which had lived and died beneath its roof. The house and everything within, without, and around it, seemed actually to sympathize with its own desolation and desertion. It seemed as if twenty years of continued occupation could not have produced such an effect upon the ancient edifice as had those few hours of neglect and desertion. And yet it was not as if it had been stripped of those time-worn and ancient relics of ornament and furnishing that so long had appertained to it. No, nothing but the absence of those forms which had been accustomed quietly to move from room to room and to be met here upon a staircase, there upon a corridor and even in some of the ancient panel departments which gave it an air of dreary repose and listlessness. The shutters, too, were all closed and that circumstance contributed largely to the production of that gloomy effect which otherwise could not have ensued. In fact what could be done without attracting very special observation was done to prove to any casual observer that the house was untenanted. But such was not really the case. In that very room where the much-dreaded Varney the vampire had made one of his dreaded appearances to Flora Banneworth and her mother sat two men. It was from that apartment that Flora had discharged the pistol which had been left to her by her brother and the shot from which it was believed had most certainly taken effect upon the person of the vampire. It was a room peculiarly accessible from the gardens for it had long French windows opening to the very ground and but a stone step intervened between the flooring of the apartment and a broad gravel walk which wound round that entire portion of the house. It was in this room then that two men sat in silence finally in darkness. Before them and on a table were several articles of refreshment as well of defense and offense according as their intentions might be. There were a bottle and three glasses and lying near the elbow of one of the men was a large pair of pistols such as might have adorned the belt of some desperate character who wished to instill an opinion of his prowess into his foes and the pursuit of his weapons. Close at hand by the same party lay some more modern firearms as well as a long dirk with a silver-mounted handle. The light they had consisted of a large lantern so constructed with a slide that it could be completely obscured at a moment's notice but now as it was placed the rays that were allowed to come from it were directed as much as possible and fell upon the faces of the two men revealing them to be Admiral Bell and Dr. Chillingworth. It might have been the effect of the particular light in which he sat but the doctor looked extremely pale and did not appear at all at his ease. The Admiral on the contrary appeared in as placable a state of mind as possible and had his arms folded across and his head shrunk down between his shoulders as if he made up his mind to do something that was to last a long time and therefore he was making the best of it. I do hope, said Mr. Chillingworth after a long pause, that our efforts will be crowned with success. You know, my dear sir, that I have always been of your opinion that there was a great deal more in this matter than met the eye. My dear, said the Admiral, and as to our efforts being crowned with success while I'll give you a toast, doctor, may the morning's reflection provide for the evening's amusement. Ha-ha! said Chillingworth faintly. I'd rather not drink any more and you seem, Admiral, to have transposed the toast in some way. I believe it runs may the evening's amusement bear the morning's reflection. Transpose the devil, said the Admiral. What do I care how it runs? I gave you my toast and as to that you mention, it's another one altogether and a sneaking, shore-going one too. But why don't you drink? Why, my dear sir, medically speaking, I am strongly of opinion that when the human stomach is made to contain a large quantity of alcohol, it produces bad effects upon the system. Now, I've certainly taken one glass of this infernally strong Holland and it is now lying in my stomach like the red hot heater of a tea-earn. Is it? Put it out with another, then. I'm afraid that would not answer. But do you really think, Admiral, that we shall affect anything by waiting here and keeping watch and ward not under the most comfortable circumstances, this first night of the hall being empty? Well, I don't know that we shall, said the Admiral. But when you really want to steal a march upon the enemy, there is nothing like beginning be times. We are both of opinion that Varney's great object throughout has been, by some means or another, to get possession of the house. Yes, true, true. We know that he has been unceasing in his endeavors to get the Bannerworth family out of it, that he has offered then their own price to become its tenant and that the whole gist of his quiet and placid interview with Flora in the garden was to supply her with a new set of reasons for urging her mother and brother to leave Bannerworth Hall because the old ones were certainly not found sufficient. True, true, most true, said Mr. Chillingworth emphatically. You know, sir, that from the first time you broached that view of the subject to me how entirely I coincided with you. Of course you did, for you are an honest fellow and a right thinking fellow. Though you are a doctor and I don't know that I like doctors much better than I like lawyers, there are only humbugs in a different sort of way. But I wish to be liberal. There is such a thing as an honest lawyer and damn ye, you're an honest doctor. Of course I'm much obliged, Admiral, for your good opinion. I only wish it had struck me to bring something of a solid nature in the shape of food to sustain the waste of the animal economy during the hours we shall have to wait here. Don't trouble yourself about that, said the Admiral. Do you think I'm a donkey and would set out on a cruise to my ship? I should think not. Jack Pringle will be here soon and he has my orders to bring in something to eat. Well, said the doctor, that's very provident of you, Admiral, and I feel personally obliged. But tell me, how do you intend to conduct the watch? What do you mean? Why, I mean, if we sit here with the window fastened so as to prevent our light from being seen and the door closed, how are we by any possibility to know if the house is attacked or not? Harky, my friend, said the Admiral, I have left a weak point for the enemy. A what, Admiral? A weak point. I've taken good care to secure everything but one of the windows in the ground floor, and that I've left open, or so nearly open that it will look like it's in the world to get in at. Now, just inside that window, I've placed a lot of the family crockery. I'll warrant, if anybody so much as puts his foot in, you'll hear the smash, and damn ye, there it is. There was a long crash at this moment, followed by a succession of similar sounds, but of a lesser degree, and both the Admiral and Mr. Chillingworth sprung to their feet. Come on, cried the former. Here'll be a precious row. Take the lantern. Mr. Chillingworth did so, but he did not seem possessed of a great deal of presence of mind, for before they got out of the room he twice accidentally put on the dark slide and produced a total darkness. Damn, said the Admiral, don't make it wink and wink in that way. Hold it up and run after me as hard as you can. I'm coming, I'm coming, said Mr. Chillingworth. It was one of the windows of a long room containing five, fronting the garden which the Admiral had left purposely unguarded, and it was not far from the apartment in which they had been sitting, so that, probably, not half a minute's time elapsed between the moment of the first alarm and their reaching the spot from whence it was presumed to arise. The Admiral had armed himself with one of the huge pistols and he dashed forward with all the vehemence of his character towards the window where he knew he had placed the family crockery and where he fully expected to meet the reward of his exertion by discovering someone lying amid its fragments. In this, however, he was disappointed for, although there was evidently a great smash among the plates and dishes, but he remained closed and there was no indication whatever of the presence of anyone. Well, that's odd, said the Admiral. I balanced them up amazingly careful and two of them edgeways. Dammy, a fly would have knocked them down. Mew! said a great cat, emerging from under a chair. Curse you! There you are! Put out the light! Put out the light! Here we're illuminating the whole house for nothing! With a click went the darkening slide over the lantern and all was obscurity. At that instant a shrill, clear whistle came from the garden.