 CHAPTER 128 The New Lodger. A Night Alarm. A Mysterious Circumstance. It was not until late the next day that Mrs. Meredith heard anything of her new lodger. All she had heard was that he would be there during the day, but whether to breakfast, dinner, or tea she could not tell which, and now she was waiting with expectation, if not anxiety. But at the same time she knew she was quite sure of her lodger, because she held his bank note. It had been a dull day. There are many such in London, and therefore that was no singular circumstance. It was one of those dull, leaden-colored days of which you can predict nothing with certainty, or even a chance of being right. It was rather squally at times, and at others a west wind-blue, not cold, at least not particularly so, but yet not withstanding the heavy appearance of the sky there was a clear white light that made every object look more disagreeable than ordinary. The landlady and her daughter were both on the Kee-Veeve, as it was called, looking out for their new lodger, whom they expected the more immediately as the evening drew on, for there was less likelihood of his coming in the middle of the day than towards the evening, and less after evening had set in than before, for he was an invalid. It was, they thought, just about the time when he must arrive, when there could only be the uncertainty of a few minutes. The whole house was in order, nothing was left to chance. Mrs. Meredith herself had gone over the whole place, and took a special pains to find all sorts of fault with the unfortunate drudge who did the work, of course aided by the mother and daughter, but such aid was distressing, because she had to wait upon both and do her own work as well. However, all was in readiness, and they were looking out at every coach from between the blinds. The sound of wheels was enough to cause them to start, when suddenly a coach drove up to the door, upon which had been carefully packed several leather boxes and portmanteaus. Here he is, said the daughter. Here he is! Yes, and as I am alive, said Mrs. Meredith, as she cast her eye upwards towards the next house, as I am alive there is that girl again. I do believe that she does it on purpose. It is done to aggravate me, and to attract attention from the men, the hussy. There was now no time to lose. The knocker at the door giving pretty clear indication that instant attention upon their part was requisite, and up jumped Mrs. Meredith and her daughter Margaret. Immediately the servant opened the door into the passage, the coach door was opened, the steps let clattering down, and Colonel Deverell entered the house. Will you walk into the parlor, Colonel? inquired Mrs. Meredith. Until your boxes are all let in, and you see they are all correct. There is a good fire. Thank you, madam, said the Colonel, with some difficulty walking along. I am scarcely so well able to walk as I was yesterday. Ah, Colonel, you must have suffered much, but I am glad the parlor is so handy. It will save you the walk upstairs at present, until you are quite recovered from your fatigue. Pray be seated, Colonel, by the fire. The man shall bring them in, and lay them before the door. Thank you, said the Colonel. And he sat down in a large easy-chair, having first dropped his cloak, which was a large blue military cloak, lined with white, with a fur collar, and looked extremely rich and handsome, beneath which he wore an officer's undress frock, covered over with a profusion of braid. The boxes and portmanteaus were brought in, and laid down so the Colonel could see them, and when that was done, the Coachman made his demand, which excited an exclamation of horror from Mrs. Meredith, and a declaration that she thought Hackney Coachman were the greatest imposters and extortioners under the sun. There never was such a set as Hackney Coachman. Never. Giving lodging, O Skipe, as mum, axing your pardon for saying so, not that I means any offence, only I lived in one once, and ought to know some it. The Colonel, however, made no remark, but pulling out an embroidered purse which appeared to be full of gold, he paid the man his demand. Thank you, Your Honor. You are one of the right sort in no mistake. So saying, the Coachman walked away, jinking the money as he walked along the passage, until he came to the door where the girl was standing, and then, giving her a knowing wink and jerking his head backwards, he said, They are a scaly lot here, ain't they, Mary? Mary! screamed Margaret. Yes, Miss. Shut the door and come away from that insolent fellow. Slam went the door, and then the servant went downstairs, and the parlor door was immediately closed, and the Colonel was given into the tender mercies of the lodging-housekeeper. For though she pretended that she merely offered a gentile and presentable house for such as desired it, and could afford to pay for it, she was, in every sense of the word, a lodging-housekeeper. The Colonel, however, sat very composedly in his chair, and gazed at the fire in silence, and from time to time he gazed at the mother and daughter with his one eye. He had not lost the entire use of the other, but had a green silk shade over it. He watched what went on, and replied cautiously to what was said to him, but appeared inclined to silence, and occasionally abrupt in his conversation. But this they attributed to the habit he must have been in when abroad of commanding. Will you take tea at once, Colonel, or at what hour do you choose to have it? I will take it at once, I am tired. What will you take, sir? inquired Margaret at one end of the table, and placing herself in an enticing posture she awaited the answer expecting to be looked at. Coffee, said the Colonel abruptly. There was a pause. But Margaret said nothing more, and said about doing such little matters as appeared to be in employment. But it was a mere deception. It was all done. Nothing had been left undone. They had taken care of that, as the servant knew full well. However there was little that passed of any peculiar character on that occasion. For the evening passed off very calmly and comfortable, the Colonel giving his opinion somewhat dogmatically, but that, of course, was submitted to, as he was a military man, and had much experience, and moreover he was a rich man, quite a nabob. It is astonishing, as a general rule, what people will submit to when it comes from those who have riches at command. That fact alone seems to stamp all that is foolish and absurd coming from such a quarter with sense and worth. It is in vain for anyone not blessed with property to talk. His talking is nothing in comparison with what falls from the lips of the man who has property. You are talked down, and if you are obstinate and won't be talked down, why you are a disagreeable fellow, a dissatisfied man, and your neighbors ought to set their faces against you. Thus through life, he who does not submit to the wealthy is always run down, and there is every disposition, if possible, of running him off the road altogether, no matter how great the injustice against him, and the enormity of the conduct of others. They are, as they think, justified, because he is not a genteel person. In fact, he is not evangelical. The evening passed over, as we have said, in calmness and quiet, and Mrs. Meredith appeared to be well pleased with her lodger, and at a moderately early hour they separated and went to bed. The Colonel retired after taking leave of them to his own room, complaining he was in great pain and scarce able to walk, and so cold he was nearly benumbed. "'This climate,' he said, "'is so cold, so moist, and altogether so uncomfortable, that I cannot understand how it is people ever endure it.' "'Indeed,' he continued to Mrs. Meredith, "'there must be some great difference between rich and poor in their confirmation, else they couldn't stand it.' Of course Mrs. Meredith assented to the proposition, as she would have done to any other, no matter what proposition, that had been so urged by such a person. Thus it was with the Colonel, who appeared very well satisfied with his lodgings, and all parties for so short a time were well pleased with each other. The night was dark. That is to say, it was one of those nights in which neither moon nor stars showed themselves. No sound was heard through the streets, save the heavy step of the guardian of the night, or the midnight reveler, who might be finding his way homeward, boisterously, and with scarce enough sense to enable him to take the right path. There were clouds enough to have intercepted the moon. But there was a kind of light that was spread through them, that you saw when you looked up, but which aided not the traveller below. But then there were countless lamps that illumined the streets. At that time there was a man creeping over the housetops. He had gained the housetop of Mr. Smith, the house in which resided Miss Smith, who had given so much offence to Mrs. Meredith by sitting so much out in the balcony. He stooped in the gutter and looked cautiously around. No human being was within sight. He was alone, and no soul saw him. Cautiously he crept towards the trap door. It was bolted. But that was soon obviated. No sound, however, could be heard. The soft but rotten wood gave way under the steady pressure exerted upon the door, which at length opened. He paused a moment or two, and listened carefully for several minutes. Then he entered the loft, slowly and noiselessly, keeping as low as possible, so that he might run no risk of being observed by anyone who might be passing the house, or who might be up by accident in any of the opposite houses, in consequence of illness or any other cause. There was a lower trap door through which the figure passed. There could be no difficulty in passing, because that was always kept open, as it was considered to assist in ventilating the house. And then the intruder stood within the house. He then drew himself up to his full height, and paused for some moments, as if considering the next step he would take. But then he descended to the second floor, on which were placed what are called the best bedrooms. He paused at one. Gently tried the handle. And finding it turned, and the door open, he gave one look towards the stairs that he had just descended. And then he entered the apartment. All was yet still. No sound met his ear, save the breathing of the sleeper within. Who lay in a sweet sleep, and was as calm and unconscious as the blessed. Perfect rest and forgetfulness had steeped the senses of the young girl, who lay in ambrosial sleep. One arm was thrown outside the clothes, and revealed in all its symmetry a snow-white bosom, heaving gently to the throbbing of the heart. The intruder gazed at the young girl for some moments, and clasped his hands with trembling eagerness, and a ghastly smile played upon his terrible features, while a fearful fire shot from the eyes of one who thus disturbed the slumbers of the living. He approached the bed, and took the hand within his own. And then the sleeper awoke. It would be impossible to describe the look of terror and horror that sat on the young girl's face. She could not scream. She could not utter a sound. Her whole faculties appeared to have been bound up for a short time. She could not even shrink from the horrible being who approached her. She was so perfectly horror-stricken with that truly horrible countenance, the glance of which seemed as if it would destroy the power of speech forever. She shrank now, but could not move. The creature crept closer. It seized her hand, and held it within its own. But even that could not awake her from the trance she was in. She felt a horrible sinking feeling, as though she must sink through the very flooring of the house, and yet she could not stir. It appeared as though so long as the hideous face was opposed to hers, so long she was unable to move. It was a species of fascination, however great the horror felt. Yet there was no help for it. She could not ever shut her eyes. That boon was denied her. What she saw cannot be described. It is by far too horrible for pen to describe. The wild horrible insanity that appeared in the eyes of the creature, with their peculiar cast, was indescribable. The only light that entered the room, at that moment, came from a lamp below, and illumined only the upper part of the room above the window-sills. The creature then stood in relief against this light. A horrible, dark object, whose glaring eyeballs were too terrible ever to be forgotten. Then again, while he with one hand held hers, he passed his other hand up her arm, and then felt along the soft white flesh with its cold, clammy fingers, as if it were feeling for something, or greedy of the velvet-like substance. Still keeping the eyes fixed upon the hapless and helpless girl, he drew the arm towards him, and leaning upon the bed, suddenly plunged his face on the arm, and held and seized it near the middle with his teeth, and then it made an attempt to suck the wound. This, however, broke the charm, horrible and complete as it was, for the creature's hideous countenance was lost to her sight as he plunged his face to her arm. Shriek followed Shriek in quick and rapid succession. The whole house was alarmed by the terrible Shrieks that came from the apartment. She struggled, and by a sudden effort she disengaged herself from the grasp of the fiend, and rolled, wrapped up in the bed-clothes to the other side of the floor. The monster still pursued her with greedy thirst for blood, and had picked her up, and again placed her on the bed with more than mere human strength, and again sought the arm he had been deprived of by the sudden effort of the young girl. Help! Help! Mother, Father! Help! Help! The shouts rang through the house, awaking the affrighted sleepers from the repose in a manner that may be called distressing. It is distressing in the midst of a large city to be awoke in the dead of the night by loud and urgent cries of distress. It is such a contrast to the dead stillness that reigns around, and when the first cries are heard it creates a terror and surprise that takes away all power of action. It was not till the cries had been heard a second time that the inmates aroused themselves. The fact was, they were fearful of fire. The moment that idea floated across their minds, then indeed they started up, and the father of the young girl, hearing the fall, at once rushed to the room of his daughter. He arrived but in time, the hideous monster being affrighted by the footsteps approaching him, turned from his blood-stained feast, and hid himself beneath the drapery as the father entered the room. Mary, he said, Mary, Mary, what means this? What can be the matter? Are you hurt? How come you in this disorder? Oh God! That thing from the grave has been sucking my blood from my veins! See? See yonder! He moves! Watch him! Note him, father! Believing she raved, her father paid no attention to what she did say, but continued to regard her with sorrow and regret, for he believed it to be a sudden attack of mania. But seeing the curtain's move, he turned his head, and at once divined it to be the cause of his daughter's alarm. The glance was but momentary, but he saw the figure of a man who was escaping from the apartment by the door by which he had at that moment entered. Help! he shouted. Help! Thieves! Murder! And as he shouted, he rushed after the figure that was flying towards the top of the house. By this time, the house was filled up with people, and the noise upstairs had caused the servants below to rise confused and thoroughly terrified by the sounds they heard, and the cries of their master. At that moment, one of those watchful guardians of the night passed by the house, and was immediately hailed by the unfortunate people below, who were afraid to go upstairs to offer any assistance, lest they might be knocked back again, which fear stopped all aid from below. Hello! What's the matter now? inquired the worthy guardian of the night. Oh, I don't know. Good-niss knows. You had better go up and see. I'll come up after you. Don't be afraid, I'll come up after you if you'll go first. Stop a moment while I spring my rattle! said the worthy functionary, who thereupon gave an alarming peel upon his instrument, and then he entered the house, with instructions to the servant to run downstairs and let any of his party in that might come up. Then the guardian of the night hastened upstairs with all the haste he could, and came up just in time to pick Mr. Smith up, who was lying stunned at the foot of the stairs. The fact was, Mr. Smith had pursued his adversary too quickly, and finding he could not get off, he turned around and felled him to the earth like an ox. It was just at this juncture when the Charlie came upstairs, and in another moment Mr. Smith recovered. What's the matter? inquired the watchman. Is the house on fire? No, no. The vampire. The vampire. Hey, what? Never heard of him before. Never seen him. Quick! Quick, he is gone upstairs! Quick, off to him! said Mr. Smith, as he ran up the stairs, and was quickly followed by the watchman and some others who now crowded about, having had time to dress themselves and come to Mr. Smith's aid. And they now crowded to the housetop, for they saw the trapdoor was unfastened, though it had been hastily pushed too. This they opened, and then looked on the housetop, first one way, and then another. He ain't here, said the watchman, and we mustn't expect to find him here. He wouldn't wait for us, you may depend upon that. We had better search along the housetops till we see him, or find some of the other traps open, and then you may guess where he is gone. The difficulty is which way did he go? said Mr. Smith. Oh, I saw him go that way, said another watchman, who came upstairs having been first attracted by the sounds of the rattle, and then looking up at the house, he saw the figure of a man stealing with great rapidity of motion across the housetops. There I lost him then, he said. I didn't see him after that spot, but he may have gone further for all I can say to the contrary, but we shall soon see. This trapdoor is open, said the other watchman, as he pulled aside Mrs. Meredith's trapdoor, which had only been pushed too. We had better go in here, and see if he isn't gone somewhere into the house, and hiding himself till all is quiet, and then he will make off if left alone. Mr. Smith's Disappointment Mrs. Meredith and her daughters had long sunk into deep sleep before the events just narrated took place in her neighbor's house. There was a perfect stillness. The whole house appeared as though there were no living soul within it, all was so still and quiet. Presently, however, there was a terrific sound. It was like that of a human being falling and bumping downstairs, and then there was a great deal of shouting and calling, and Mrs. Meredith opened her eyes and trembled in her bed, while her daughter Margaret, who upon the occasion slept with her, was likewise as frightened. What is that? She stammered with some difficulty. Oh, here! I cannot think! Thieves! Madras, I dare say! Oh, merciful heaven! What shall we do? Where shall I go? We shall be murdered!" Both females trembled in their beds, and were quite unable to move, breaking out in a profuse sweat from fear. And yet the noise came nearer and nearer, and there were many persons evidently in the house. Their numbers were so numerous that they evidently didn't care to conceal themselves. The fact was this. When Mr. Smith and his party found the trap door open, they descended into the house, the watchman leading the way. But in going down the ladder his foot slipped, and he came with a dreadful thump on the landing. And fortunately he rolled up against the servant girl's door instead of downstairs. The door flew open, and the girl was too terrified to speak for some moments. At length, the watchman having got up, he made for the bed, upon which the girl jumped up and began to scream out for help in piteous tones. Come, come, don't be frightened, said the watchman. Get up and show us over the house. Well, I'm sure, said the girl, who had recovered some of her assurance. For the coat, stick, and lantern of the watchman at once assured her that she was in no immediate danger whatever. Well, I'm sure! To think of coming in a female's room in this manner, you ought to be ashamed of yourself, you old dretch you ought. No names! If you don't get up and show us over and call your master. I ain't got a master. Well, you're mistress then. We will go ourselves, and we'll soon make short work of it. Come, come, no nonsense, we will dress you ourselves. You monster! Go out of the room, count you! Have you no decency left you? I'll get up, but I'll lay a complaint before the Lord Mayor, and he shall tell you a different tale to this. I am ashamed of you, and so you ought to be of yourselves. However, during this energetic remonstrance, she contrived to shuffle on some things, and when she was ready, she came down to her mistress's door, and then began to hammer and kick at it, saying, Oh, Miss Meredith, there's such a lot of men in the house. Do come out to them. I don't know what's the matter, but they'll break into your room as they broke into mine. What do they want, Mary? Don't know of them. There is someone escaped into your house that has broken into the next house, and your trapped doors on the roof were open. Gracious me, said Mrs. Meredith. Gracious me. Show them over the place, Mary. We shall get up in a few moments and come to you. Margaret, my dear, get up. Some housebreakers have gotten into the house, and we shall all be murdered in our sleep if we don't find them. Oh, dear, dear, what will become of us? What will our new Lord just say to this disturbance? Margaret made no reply, but began to dress herself while the party began their search, and Mr. Smith hastened back to his daughter to understand the nature of the attack that had been made upon her, and whether she were any better than she was when he left her. However, when he came to hear what was the real cause of her terror, to find the marks upon her arm, and the certainty that nothing had been lost or moved, he was perfectly staggered, and hastened back after the party he had left to make some further attempt to follow the miscreant and to discover, if possible, his retreat, and bring him to justice for the vile attack he had made. When he returned, he met Mrs. Meredith coming out of her room, she having hastily dressed herself, followed by her daughter. Oh, Mr. Smith! Mr. Smith, what is the meaning of all this disturbance? Here are a number of strange men who have forced themselves into my house, and whether their object is our property or our lives we cannot tell. What can I do, Mr. Smith? You have nothing to fear, ma'am. Nothing to fear, sir? Why, is not such an occurrence something to be feared for its own sake alone? Yes, ma'am, it is very disagreeable, I am willing to admit, but I presume you would not give refuge to a vampire. Oh, what, sir? A vampire, madam. I know not how to explain it to you, but I have to assure you my daughter has been attacked in her sleep by the midnight bloodsucker from the graves. Oh, God, that such a thing should happen in my family. I would not have believed it had the same been related to me from anybody else. It must have been the nightmare, suggested Mrs. Meredith. Would to heaven it had been so, but I came to her assistance and saw him as he fled from my daughter's bedside, and I followed him to the roof, and he was lost on your house and your trap door was open, and we presumed he went in here. The door was bolted when we went to bed last night, said Margaret. Yes, responded her mother. We always have that bolted every night, for it is our only protection from that side of the house. But no one can be here. We have no man in the house save our lodger, an invalid and quite a gentleman. Can we see him? I should think not, because he is an invalid. He is a colonel in the East India Service and will no doubt be very angry at such a disturbance, and much more so when he finds he is wanted. I am really much shocked at this disturbance, which is the more unfortunate as it is the first night he has slept here. I must see him. Must, Mr. Smith, must! I cannot permit anything of the kind to be said in my house. I give you permission to look for him over the house, but I can't give any such permission with what my lodger possess. It is not in my power to do so if I had the inclination. While this was going on, the house had been rummaged over and over, and then a party of them, with Mr. Smith, came to the colonel's bedroom, a close travelling cap, and a dressing gown were found on the mat before the door. Oh! said Mr. Smith as he picked it up. This appears very much like what I saw the figure was dressed up in, something like robes, and this would serve the purpose. Ah! said the watchman. We shall have him now. But the gentleman is an invalid. He can hardly walk upstairs much less. Can he be scrambling over housetops? said Mrs. Meredith. You must surely all have been dreaming. Something has disagreed with you, and the result has been visions of which you can, of course, find no trace. Not quite that either, said one of the watchmen, for we saw him getting away, and he made for your trap-door where I missed him. I could not see any more of him among the chimneys or something of that sort, but I thought he came in here and found your door open. And you saw him come in? said Mrs. Meredith. I can't say I saw him come in, said the man. I couldn't see through a brick wall and a stack of chimneys which were in the way, but I felt certain he must have come in here. Well, this is very strange, very singular. The dressing-gown, too, said Mr. Smith, is dusty and dirty all over, at least in places where it appears to have come in contact with anything dirty, possibly the roof of the house. Certainly something of that sort has happened. It looks very much like it. And the cap sits close to the head. That is dirty. But it is dry dirt, said Mr. Smith, and of the same character. We had better see this lodger of yours, Mrs. Meredith, and with your permission I will knock. As Mr. Smith spoke, he gave two or three loud knocks at the door, which were not answered for some time, but they were speedily repeated, and then a peremptory voice exclaimed, In the name of goodness what is the meaning of all this disturbance? Is the house broken into or is it a resort for thieves? Be it as it may, if I am disturbed in this way, and you don't instantly get out of the way and make less noise, I'll fire through the door. I have loaded pistols by my side, and I will not submit to the shameful disturbance. At the sound of these words, the two watchmen were much disturbed, and immediately stepped back so hastily, as nearly to overthrow Mrs. Meredith and her daughter. But Mr. Smith, after a step or two backwards, resumed his place by the door and exclaimed, I have not come here, sir, to be frightened. Some strange circumstances have just happened, and I must beg you'll open the door to explain them. And who the devil are you? My name is Smith, sir. I live next door, and my daughter has been attacked by a vampire. I know not what nature the creature must possess, but it has shocking propensities. There are evidences at your door which make it appear he has got into your room. It would be very foolish in him to do anything of the sort, said the Colonel. For the first place, I will not suffer annoyance in any shape, and besides, I have loaded pistols for his reception. Wait till I am dressed, and then I will come out to you. I am sure the Colonel will be very much offended by this conduct, which is very shameful. People's houses broken open and entered in this manner, and people's rest broken so. I am quite ashamed of my neighbours, quite. Really, we have strong suspicions, strong grounds of suspicion, too, against that larger of yours. Look at that dressing-gown and cap, the open-trap door in all. Really, I can't help thinking there is something very suspicious in all this. Yes, said the Watchman. I know there's nobody else in the house. I've been all over it, and it's very strange to me if he ain't the man. Well, said Margaret Meredith, it seems as if you are most willing to accuse those who are quite incapable of doing what you accuse them of. This gentleman was barely able to get upstairs without assistance. Besides, he could not have gone upstairs without someone being awoke by the noise. It's my opinion that this is a piece of impertinence altogether. So I think, my dear, said Mrs. Meredith. I am a father, Mrs. Meredith, said Mr. Smith, and I have my daughter's safety and happiness at heart. I am sure there's much too very suspicious. You wouldn't like your daughter's blood sucked out of her arms. I am sure I don't, nor does she. Oh, Father Ration, said Margaret. Who ever heard of such stuff? I am sure I never did, except in some book of improbabilities and nothing more. But here is Colonel Devral. At that moment Colonel Devral opened the door, and then retired a little into his room, saying as he did so in a very angry voice, but at the same time endeavouring to be courteous. You can come in now, but I am quite at a loss to understand the nature of this disturbance. The house doesn't appear to be on fire, and that is the only contingency in my mind that will justify such a disturbance. What is the matter, Mrs. Meredith? I can hardly tell you, sir. I have been disturbed by finding a party of people in my house. It is most amazing to me how they came in. I will tell you, sir, said Mr. Smith. My daughter has been terrified by the appearance of someone in her bedroom, who attempted to suck her blood from the veins of her arm. I don't know what to say about it. I am sure I don't, said Colonel Devral. But I must say it's a most unpleasant affair for those who have nothing to do with it. It is a pity your domestic affliction should call you out in this manner. Take my advice, sir. Go home, else you'll catch cold. You may repent making a jest of this. I never repent anything, sir. I regret I am so unnecessarily disturbed, and it appears to me your intrusion here is most unwarrantable. Is this your dressing-gown, sir? Yes, it is. Well, then, how did it come here, and in this state, inquired Mr. Smith triumphantly? I don't know. I didn't put it there. But I suppose it must have fallen accidentally. It would not have been thrown there willingly, said the Colonel, deliberately. Well, I don't know, said Mr. Smith. But it strikes me you've been on the tiles this evening. My good sir, if you don't leave my apartment, it may happen I may forget my pains and lameness and fling you out of the window. If this had happened in India, instead of here, you would have had a particularly sharp knife inserted between your ribs or have been thrown into a well. But I know nothing of this matter, which appears so strange as to be beyond all reason. Neither experience nor common sense at all throw any light upon the matter. Be advised, sir, and retire, and allow honest people and invalids to sleep the night out. Mr. Smith looked very blank, and unable to comprehend all that had passed, he could not tell what to think. He could not urge the matter further, for he was met by real contempt and perfect self-assurance on the part of the Colonel, who moved about the room very lame, while his hand was in a sling, and a green shade was placed over his eyes. You see, said Mrs. Meredith, you must be very entirely mistaken. Colonel Deverell, we are sure, is quite unable to run about over housetops, even if he had the inclination to do so, which is really absurd. It must be at least a great mistake on your part. Yes, I am sure, too, Colonel Deverell could not have left the house without our knowing it. Indeed, it is a very silly affair, and has been a great nuisance to say the least of it. I wonder Mr. Smith doesn't know better than to break into peaceable people's houses. But I did not do so. How came you here, then? I followed someone else. The place was open, and yet you say it was shut at night, and usually kept so. How do you account for that? I cannot do so, unless some neglect took place, or else you must have forced it open. Oh, no, ma'am! said the Watchman. I can swear Mr. Smith didn't do that. It was open, and I found it so, so there's that to be accounted for. And then there's the togs that lie outside here, that's to be accounted for. So you see, it's a weary suspicious case. You are a very stupid fellow, said the Colonel. A very idiot, if you imagine people ought to be held responsible because a dressing gown happens to fall down. I do not know, but I shall proceed with this matter myself. It seems to me you have committed a trespass, to say the least of it. I can pledge my word as a man of honour and a soldier. I have not left my room. Indeed, these ladies know I could not do so, and their testimony would be ample in a court of justice, and to a gentleman. Yes. That is no more than the truth, said Mrs. Meredith, who was by no means pleased with the disturbance, and because she had no sympathy for the young lady who sat in the balcony to the annoyance of herself and her daughter. And I can bear witness to the same, said Miss Meredith. I think it is quite time Mr. Smith return to his own place and see what is the matter there. Perhaps the person he saw may have passed him and gone back again into his own house. Mr. Smith lingered, looked wistfully as if his doubts were not cleared off. But yet the testimony was so clear and so strong that he could not dispute it. And however unwillingly he was compelled to acknowledge there were some matters that he could not dispute, though he was unable to solve them. And he and those with him returned from their unsatisfactory search. CHAPTER 130 A BREAKFAST SEEN MATCHMAKING MOTHER The next day there was some anxiety on the part of Mrs. Meredith to ascertain how far her new lodger might have been disturbed by this event and in what temper of mind he felt upon the occasion. It is usual in all lodgings to have some little regard to the lodger's comforts for some days, perhaps a week or two, and then things are allowed to take their chance. And if the lodger complains, he gets for an answer that they take a vast deal of pains to oblige him and intimate that he is a peculiarly lucky man for having become a lodger at that place, and you would have been worse off if you had gone elsewhere, which of course you don't believe though they tell you so. It is an old and favorite saying that a new broom sweeps clean, and in time an old one becomes very nearly useless. So it is with lodging-house keepers. The longer you remain, the more inattentive they become, until you get weary and are compelled to leave, and then you get some scurvy insolence and your landlady eventually believes she is an ill-used woman. But in the present instance Mrs. Meredith had other hopes and fears than those of a mere lodging-housekeeper. Not that she had formed any plan in her own mind, but she had some floating idea that there was seldom such a chance turned up, because the Colonel had evidently no relations, and who could tell what in the chapter of accidents might happen. I am quite grieved, she said to her daughter. It should have happened this night. What could be the meaning of the disturbance I can't think? Now it's very tiresome things will happen so cross as this that I don't know what to think of it. It really appears as if it was done on purpose. It does, but I am sorry for it, because it would seem as though we were liable to some kind of interruption at all times, for they generally expect attention at the first if at no other time, and he may think this is a bad beginning at all events. But we shall convince him that we shall not treat him neglectfully, ma. No, my dear, but these Indians are strange tempered people, and when they once take a fancy there is no knowing what they may do, and there is no knowing what a dislike taken at such an occurrence might produce, and likes and dislikes are taken without rhyme or reason. Yes, ma, so they are, and that is the reason why you took such a dislike to young Willis, for he was as nice a young man as I have seen. Nice, my dear, nice! I don't see why he was nice, unless it was because he was presumptuous and had no money, said the amiable parent. He was not rich, ma. He was positively poor, Margaret, interrupted the mother, and therefore it was absolutely necessary to discourage such persons, for if they do no good, they are sure to be productive of mischief, for their hanging about, you know, determines others from coming forward who have means. He was very handsome. Handsome is as handsome does, my dear, you'll find that is a model through life that will carry weight at any time. All the good looks in the world would never put a gown on your back or a sixpence in your purse recollect, besides he was not handsome. You are prejudiced against the young man, not that I care anything about him, though he was a very agreeable and nice young man, so it's no use in saying that he wasn't. Well, my dear, it doesn't much matter. This is a matter of opinion. What do you think of our Colonel? He is a fine man and a rich one besides. He is tall, I admit, but stoopes a great deal, is very lame, one eye much worse than the other and one arm in a sling. Well, I can't see much beauty in all that, much out of repair, you must admit, ma. Yes, Colonel Deverell has seen some service, and his misfortunes are so many points of honor. They are like so many medals which speak of his worth. Besides that, he is a most gentlemanly and pleasant man. I don't know that I ever spoke to a more fascinating man. That might be at times, but then that was evidently a constraint upon his natural temper, because he every now and then broke out abruptly about something or other, which proves that he hasn't abrupt an imperious temper, not to say savage and snappish. There you are clearly unjustifiable, my dear Margaret. The Colonel you see is a military man and used to command, and therefore it is a very usual occurrence and not a matter of disposition at all. But what can that matter when you come to consider his wealth? There is certainly room for congratulation there, said Margaret. Indeed, my child, there is room for congratulation, and I am convinced there is happiness where there is a fortune, for that will obtain all you want, and when you obtain all you want, what can you be otherwise than entirely happy? Therefore riches are happiness. Yes, there is much truth in all that, ma, said Margaret, and all I hope is that I might obtain a fortune, then I would make you comfortable, ma. I'm sure you would, Margaret. My whole life has been spent in ships to maintain you and bring you up in a manner that would enable you to become a fortune, which, thanks to my care, example and precept, you are fully equal to at any moment it may become your lot. Yes, ma, I feel that I was born to command, and the lady of a Colonel would not be a bit too high in rank for my ambition or desserts. Indeed it would not, my dear, but now listen to me. You know, my dear, I never plan anything but what is for your benefit. Now, I am given to understand that Colonel Devereal has no relatives at all, and I think hardly any friends, and that we can make ourselves quite necessary to him, in fact perfect friends to him. He will look upon us as his nearest relatives, and he may take a fancy to you, as you may easily induce him. Old men like flattery there is no doubt, and that kind of flattery which is called attention. Wait upon him most assiduously, and read to him, and all that kind of thing, my dear. Yes, I know, ma. And then, dear, if you mind what you are about, the Colonel and all his wealth may be yours before six months are over, or I'm no witch. Hush! I hear him stirring. He's coming downstairs. There he is in the drying room. I hear him overhead. Go upstairs, my dear, and inquire when he will choose to have his breakfast. Yes, ma, said the young lady, who betrayed an extraordinary desire to obey her parent, a matter not equally to be said of all young ladies, nor of this one upon many occasions. But then this was one that was quite agreeable to her own feelings, which explains the secret. Colonel Devereal had indeed descended, and was seated in the drying room, with his feet on the fender and his head leaning on his hand and his elbow on the table when Margaret entered. He appeared to be thoughtful and unwell. He had, perhaps, passed a bad night, or the interruption had robbed him of his sleep, which to an invalid was the more severely felt. Good morning, Colonel, said Margaret, advancing. I hope the disturbance that so inopportunely took place did not have the effect of destroying your night's rest. Indeed, it did do so to a very great extent, replied the Colonel, though not entirely. But still it makes one very poorly, gives one the headache, and causes a sense of lassitude and fatigue to oppress the body, which, added to the weariness incident to such cases, makes one very uncomfortable. I am sorry you have been so discomposed, and so is my ma. She really is grieved. But you see, sir, it was a matter so entirely beyond any control, that she cannot be blamed for it, though it happened, most unfortunately, at a time when it was least wanted or most to be avoided. True, very true, I can imagine all that. I am not unjust enough to blame you for it. I could no more help it than you could, and I dare say you were none the better for such a disagreeable disturbance. I am not, I am very certain. No, sir, I am not. When would you please to breakfast? As soon as I can have it, replied the Colonel, you can have it at once. Then be pleased to let me have it. I have the use of but one arm entirely. May I beg your aid in making tea for me? With pleasure, sir. Margaret immediately left the room and informed her mother of what had passed upon the occasion, and when the breakfast was laid and all things ready, Margaret Meredith sat down with Colonel Deverell to breakfast. Before, however, they had gone far, he inquired if she had breakfasted. No, I have not. And your mother has she breakfasted? No, sir, she has not. Then give her my compliments, and I shall be glad to take breakfast in her company, too, for I am very poorly this morning and company is agreeable. This was soon effected, and in a few minutes more they all sat down, the Colonel being duly waited upon by Margaret and her mother, the latter being employed in eating the former to pay great attention to their host, for they breakfasted at his expense as a matter of course. It was really a most unfortunate occurrence that of last night, said Mrs. Meredith. Very unfortunate, because some people have a difficulty in sleeping in a strange bed, and when once awake they cannot easily, if at all, get asleep again, and that I had great fears might have been your case. Not precisely, said the Colonel, but the fact is I have seen so much hard service that I can sleep anywhere without any effort of mine, but when one has suffered from wounds, the heats of climate, and the terrors of imprisonments in Indian prisons, one's health becomes so shattered that one's rest is not so good as it ought to be, but that is no one's fault. It is a grievous misfortune, said Mrs. Meredith. Yes, added Margaret, and I think there is not enough gratitude in the country towards those who so nobly defend us in our homes, to do which they must not only brave danger and death in the field of battle, but all the evils that spring from climate insidious diseases brought on by the exposures and hardships of a soldier's life, and then when they see them return to their own country with wounds that ought to bring honor, glory, and sure profit, they are omitted and neglected. The Colonel sighed deeply, but said nothing. My dear Miss Meredith, will you fetch me my keys? I left them in the Bureau. Yes, sir, said the amiable young lady who arose and left the room. Your daughter is an amiable girl, Mrs. Meredith, said Colonel Deverell. She reminds me of one who is now dead, and at whose decease I left England for India, the country became insupportable to me at that time, but she now recalls all the feelings and aspirations of youth. Ah, she is an amiable and good girl, though I am her mother, yet I must not do her less than justice, because it is usual to consider it partial or silly of a parent praising her own child, but she does deserve all that can be said of her. It is a blessing. There was the same class of beauty and the same amiable and sensible department. Oh dear, those days are gone by indeed. Who knows, but they may return. It is doubtful, more than doubtful, certain. I am an old man now, Mrs. Meredith, an old man. Yes, I have deserved some thanks at the hands of my country, and I am rich. Yes, Mrs. Meredith, I am rich. Very rich, I believe I may say. That is some reward. It is, but I cannot recall the past. I am no longer young. I have no young wife by my side to soothe my pillow to attend to my wants. No, I am an old man, as I said before, and I cannot expect the attention of the young and beautiful. But, Colonel Deverell, you are not an old man, and as for your wounds they are honourable. But my shattered constitution may be mended by care and attention doubtless, and I am sure while you are here you shall want no attention we can possibly bestow. I thank you, Mrs. Meredith, I thank you, said the Colonel. I only regret the disturbance you suffered last night, said Mrs. Meredith. I am afraid want of proper rest has made you melancholy. I knew not of such a thing. Neither was I at all aware of the fact of the trap door being open. Indeed, I can't understand it. Nor I, ma'am, I do not clearly understand what they said. They talked of some young lady being strangled or assaulted in her sleep. Yes, Colonel, it was in her sleep, and I cannot help thinking it must have been a dream. However, if it were not, I do not know what to think of it. Nor I, said the Colonel thoughtfully. They talked about a vampire, and said Ms. Smith had been seized by the arm, and the creature had attempted to suck the blood from the veins. Dear me, what a strange affair! Very, sir, but I never heard of such things only in books, but goodness help us from such strange unearthly beings. Have you seen any in your travels, Colonel Deverell? You have traveled in hot countries, and have seen them, I should imagine. Not I, Mrs. Meredith, I have seen strange things, but I never saw a vampire, though I have heard of such things. Indeed, there are many disgusting things in creation, and that is one of them. But what could be the reason they should come to that young lady above any other I cannot conceive? Nor I, sir. At this moment Margaret returned, having recovered the keys which were not wanted. Only the watchful mama thought there was an opportunity for a little tender gag relative to the amiability of the young lady, and therefore it ought not to be omitted. Moreover, she saw that there was no necessity for leaving them alone yet. There would be plenty of time yet for that, and she felt assured there would be ample opportunity for the progress of the suit. She now confidently anticipated must take place. For she saw, however prompt and ready the Colonel might be from habit, yet there was a good deal of the willing mood about him. His health and weakness, she thought, causes that, and now while his health lasts this way, he may be secured, or at least the foundation laid upon which we may build our hopes. He shall want no aid of mine to help him on that way. Have you been long in England, Colonel? she inquired. Not very long. The voyage homeward must have been very tedious. It would have been, but I did not come that way. I crossed into Egypt and came to the Mediterranean and thence to Italy, so I varied the scene and traveled at leisure, and got here a month before the vessel I was to have come by. Oh, that was much more pleasant. Decidedly so, and then I came to the hotel. Not that I had not all proper attention paid me, but then there was no sociality there, men only surround you with whom you can hold no converse, whatever. Certainly not, they are menials, and of the lowest class. However, I sought out such a place as this, where I wished to have some of the domestic comforts around me that I might have had, had I a home of my own, someone to whom I could speak more seriously. For I am debarred the affectionate regard of near and dear female relatives. You must look upon us in that light, Colonel Deverell, as persons who are anxious and desirous of causing you to forget these wants by our assuidity and attention. I can speak for my daughter as myself. She will do all in her power to render your state comfortable. She is young and beautiful. Ahem. And doubtless will change such occupations to those of a more endearing character. Well, it is as it should be, and I am selfish to feel jealous. I wish I was young myself. But enough of this. I have to express my obligation to you for the ready manner in which you came forward to speak of my being in my room last night when that man was here and the watchmen. Mr. Smith? Yes, that was the man. They would not have taken my word for it. However, I hope to be able to remain here until I find myself sinking to the grave. And those who act as you have began to act for me, I must and will remember at my death and afterwards. I do not act with such a motive, Colonel Deverell. No, no, I am well aware of that. But that renders it a duty in me. However, we will say no more now. I am even wearied out. End of Chapter 130 Chapter 131 of Varni the Vampire Vol. 2 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Varni the Vampire Vol. 2 by Thomas Prescott Prest Chapter 131 Mrs. Meredith's Friend Exchange of Services and Compact There could be no doubt in the minds of both mother and daughter that there was something much resembling a moral certainty concerning the fate of the retired Colonel, that he must marry was evident. He was to all intents and purposes resolved to do so. He talked of a home in domestic comfort and all that kind of thing. Therefore, it would be easy to entangle him in the meshes of love. The snares of passion might be successfully set, and they would be sure to be productive of some sport, and even a stray Colonel might be caught, one who, having had enough of wars of man, might now be considered to become a fair object of attack in those of Venus. However, there appeared much in the Colonel's circumstances and disposition that laid him open to the attacks of designing matrons and maidens. He seemed to appreciate female company, was particularly well pleased with female attentions. Perhaps his health required their aid more than that of any other, and he had evidently been in love and lost the object of his earliest affections. One great thing in Margaret Meredith's favor was, the Colonel had taken it into his head that she much resembled this lady whoever she was, and this fact, no doubt, had opened his heart towards her, and he felt a kindly and perhaps a warmer feeling towards her. This, they calculated, would greatly assist them in their efforts to circumvent the Colonel and cause him to capitulate upon matrimonial conditions. There was never so good a chance, said Mrs. Meredith, in the course of a day or two after the above scene. There never was such a chance as the one you now have. What, with the Colonel Ma? Yes, my love, you may depend upon it. That is a very safe speculation. Why, he must be immensely rich. I am sure that some of the jewels I have seen on his fingers must be worth thousands of pounds. He is a very rich man. There can be no doubt. Yes, Ma, he is very rich. And you will have many fine things that you have never dreamed of. Why, you will have a carriage. I should think he would never refuse you that trifle. He has not one now. Yes, that is true. He would never use it himself, and that accounts for it. But when he has a wife it is quite another matter, and one which you can easily manage when you are a wife. You can do more then than you can now. Besides, you'll see how the money is spent, and it must all go through your hands, you know. That can't be helped. No, I dare say not. But Ma, don't you think when he dies there will be a loss of the pension? And that would be a serious loss. It would, but then you will have a pension as an officer's widow, besides all his vast property without any trouble whatever, with nobody to contradict you, that is, if he were to die. But I think he will not do that. He does not at times appear so old as one would think, and yet he is very pale. But that, I suppose, is caused by his long residence abroad in hot climates, and being exposed to the weather of all kinds, attended by wounds and sickness. No doubt he has suffered much, but he has obtained a handsome fortune, which pays for a great deal, you know, said Margaret. Undoubtedly, my dear, by the by have you heard how that affair of Miss Smith has ended, and why they came in here in such a manner? Oh, it was a very shocking affair. There were some marks in her arm which I cannot understand. It does seem very extraordinary to me, but she says she was awoken the night by some monster sucking her blood. Dear me, who ever heard of such nonsense? I cannot but think there must have been something in it, and yet what could have been the reason for them all to utter a falsehood I don't know. There was, you know, the father, then the watchmen, all of whom said they saw it. At all events they appeared to have some idea that it must have been done by someone in our house. The dressing gown in that appeared to bewilder them. Did they say they thought so still? No, they did not do that. We spoke so positive, and I saw when I went in to see her she was much terrified at what had occurred and could not get up. She had a physician to attend her, who will not hear of anything that she says. Well, I think he is right. But the whole family appeared to side with her and insist that it was no robber who made the attempt, for nothing was gone, nothing was attempted in the shape of robbery, nothing was touched or moved. Therefore there could be no common motive, they said. Well, at all events they have made somebody very disagreeable in the family, and they had better have been quiet, but they are a disagreeable set, and I shall not go in again. You are right, my dear, they would be glad to push that minks of theirs in here and get an acquaintance with the Colonel. No, it will be safest to keep them apart. We will have as few female visitors, my dear, as possible. Not that I think you run any chance of rivalry, but you know men are such uncertain things. To be sure they are, ma, replied Margaret. Well, then, if we have no female acquaintances, you see we cannot possibly run any risk, and the matter will not be so protracted, because everything depends upon things being smooth and uninterrupted. He will be the more ready to propose and push the matter to a point. Do you think him a likely man, ma, to marry? Certain of it, my dear, quite certain of it. I know a marrying man as soon as I see him. The Colonel is decidedly a marrying man. He talks of home, domestic comfort, and all that sort of thing. And when men do that you may be sure, if you are cautious, to catch such an one. Well, I will try. Do, my dear, it will be worth your while. It will make all our fortunes. I wonder what his money is invested in. I should like to know that, said Margaret. And so should I. Do you know I have been thinking of that myself more than once. It will be necessary to find it out, and yet it is so delicate a matter that I think you had better make no attempt to work it out of him. Let the affair take its own course at present. But I can hear all. Then you will act wisely, my dear, very wisely, prudently, but do know more, hear and see all, and say nothing. Of course, I mean upon that subject alone. Now, if we proceed cautiously, we shall be sure to gain our object. I will take some method of obtaining the information I want at some future time, because it will be well to have him caught before we begin to pull tight the line. Or, at least, before we begin to make any inquiries respecting his means, he must give us some cause to do so. I dare say we shall know something by accident some of these days. Perhaps at the hotel where he comes from something may be learned by inquiry. Possibly there may, my dear, but I do not like to go there. At all events, they can know but little, for he has not been long in England, and would hold but little communication with such people. We must have some better plan than that to go upon, else we shall never be successful, except at the cost of some cross in our hopes we would rather have avoided. Well, my, you shall do as you like in this affair. I am sure you will do what is right and best for the occasion. Besides, one plan is better than two. You are right, my dear, I am, however, resolved to have a visitor. A visitor, ma? Yes, my dear, only Mr. Twistle, the attorney. Oh, I know who you mean now, but why do you have him? He is a very funny sort of acquaintance, especially if he is to meet the Colonel. I wish to meet him, my dear, for that reason. He will be able to get out of him by some means what he has got his money locked up in. A hint will serve him, and he can make inquiries and learn it all, and then he will, if we are successful, have a good thing of marriage settlements and so forth. Besides, I will make an agreement with him that he shall receive a sum of money for his trouble. That will be a very good plan, certainly. Exactly, and you needn't be seen in it at all. So I think we shall be all very fairly put in the way of doing well. I shall go out this morning and call upon Mr. Twistle and have some conversation with him. He used to have some business of your father's to do, and has had much of his money, as well as a good word now and then. Dear me, who is that? There is a double knock at the door, ma. How vexing it will be to have anyone come here. I shall hate the sight of anyone coming in now. Can't you see from the window who it is, my dear? No, ma. Then we must wait until the servant comes in. The words had hardly been uttered before the servant entered, and said that Mr. Twistle wanted to speak with Mrs. Meredith if she was at home. God bless me, send him in, said Mrs. Meredith, after the first surprise was over, and then, turning to her daughter, she said, Talk of what's his name, and you are sure to see some of his friends. If I had wanted him to come, he would not have been here. Very likely, ma, and yet you do, and he is here. At this moment Mr. Twistle made his appearance and entered the parlor. Having saluted the ladies, he proceeded to lay his hat and cane upon the table, saying, Mrs. Meredith, I daresay you are surprised to see me after so long in absence. My surprise is not greater than my pleasure, Mr. Twistle. I am very glad to see an old friend of my husband's. Praise sit down, sir. Thank you, I will. I am glad to see you look so well. I need not ask how you are, and your amiable daughter, too. She appears charming. Yes, Mr. Twistle, we are intolerable good health, not often better. Do not let me disturb you, Miss Margaret, said Mr. Twistle as she rose to leave the room. Oh, no, sir, not at all. I have something to attend to, if you will excuse me. Certainly, certainly, I hope I shall not be any cause of putting you to any constraint and inconvenience. At the same time, I shall not detain Mrs. Meredith long. Oh, we do not intend to lose you suddenly, said Mrs. Meredith. Anything I can oblige you in, I shall be very happy to do so, if you point out the how. Then I shall proceed to do so at once, said Mr. Twistle. I will do so at once. You see, when your late husband died or before, he gave me several debts to collect. So I understood, said Mrs. Meredith. Exactly, I see you understand me. Now, those debts I was to collect myself for my own benefit, he having, when he died, owed me a considerable sum of money. He assigned them to me, and I accepted them as payment of his debt due to me. I understood such to be the case, and at that point the matter was considered as settled, was it not, Mr. Twistle, said Mrs. Meredith. It was so, and is so now, as far as I know now. But I want some few papers, which it is possible, may be somewhere in your possession, to enable me to secure the payment of them, and without these papers I shall not be able to enforce attention. Now I want to know if you will oblige me with them, if you have them by you. I will certainly look and make any search I can for them, and if I find them, you shall have them certainly. But, now I have disposed of that, will you do me a favor? Certainly, with pleasure. Well then, Mr. Twistle, you see, there is a certain rich lodger of mine who pays certain attentions to my daughter Margaret, said Mrs. Meredith. I see, said Mr. Twistle. Well then he had made no positive offer yet, but we have certain expectations you see, and in case those expectations become realized, I want to be in such a situation as to know at once what I shall do in such a case, what ought to be done. Very good, my dear madame, very good. Now we only know from report and from appearances that he is rich. We feel quite convinced of that. He could not well be otherwise, said Mrs. Meredith, but we are anxious to know in what kind of stock or property he is likely to have invested it. Yes, I see. Well then, all you have to do is learn what you can from himself or his friends, and then make inquiries respecting the truth of what you hear. I should be very happy in assisting to make such inquiries or in any way you may point out. I am very much obliged to you, but Mr. Twistle, it is a very delicate subject for females to touch upon, and moreover it is worse considering how my daughter is likely to be in connection with him. It is a delicate matter, certainly. Well now, what I wanted was this. If you would on some occasion, I would let you know beforehand, call in and take some tea or whatever meal happened to be at hand, and get into conversation with the Colonel, and get this matter from him. Oh, he is a Colonel in the Army then? Yes, but returned in bad health from the Indies. He has come only recently. I, I, I see. You have a Nabob, I see. That will be a very handsome settlement for your daughter, my dear Madame, a very handsome settlement. Yes, it will. Well, it is handsome, but there are drawbacks you see. Oh, aged ill health. Exactly, they are drawbacks, you see, that are not always to a young female's taste. No, no, but then my daughter is a reasonable young woman, Mr. Twistle, and would not object to a good fortune because there was a kind, though perhaps, elderly gentleman for a husband. Oh, dear no, sir, I have no apprehensions of that character. She will be good and obedient, especially when she knows that it is all for her good. Besides that, you see, the Colonel, though an invalid, is not so very old, and is a most pleasant, and I must say, fascinating gentleman to converse with, so that she can have no personal objection. And, besides, from what I can observe, I have reason to believe that the Colonel is by no means disagreeable to her. Then I am sure it is a very handsome prospect for her, and one that might have been long and happening to one who had a better fortune to aid her. Yes, indeed, it might. Well, then, if I can aid you, command my services. In this respect you may do me much good, but I do not, as it will be some little loss of time to you, desire you should do so for nothing. If we succeed and all is comfortable, you shall have a hundred pounds soon after the marriage, say, three months. Very well, I am quite willing to accept the terms, and should I be wanted at any time, perhaps you will let me know as long before as possible. I will do so. And then, when I next come, perhaps you'll be able to hand me the papers and be ready to sign some agreement which I will get ready for the purpose. Very well, I will do it. I am much obliged to you, said Mr. Twistle. However, I suppose, when I am introduced to the Colonel, I am only to come in as an old friend of the family? Exactly so. That will be by far the best character to assume, because you may be anything. Besides which, when matters come to a point proper for interference, you can do so the more easily and with more effect, and he also will be less inclined to quarrel, and at the same time he can have less objection to do so, which, you see, is a little better. I see, said the Attorney, rising, and now, as we have settled this business so far, I will bid you good afternoon, as I have some business elsewhere this evening, which I must get finished. After exchanging greetings, the Attorney quitted the House of Mrs. Meredith without further remark. End of Chapter 131. End of Barney the Vampire, Volume 2 of 3 by Thomas Prescott-Prest