Emma and the Vampires

by Wayne Josephson

  “For shame, Emma! Do not mimic her. I have heard him speak so very highly of Jane Fairfax! Such an admirer of her performance on the pianoforte and of her voice. I have heard him say that he could listen to her forever, even from miles away. This pianoforte that has been sent to her—might it not be from Mr. Knightley? I cannot help suspecting him.”

  “I see no sign of affection. I believe nothing about the pianoforte—and only proof will convince me that Mr. Knightley has any thought of marrying Jane Fairfax.”

  At that moment Mr. Cole approached Emma to beg her to try out the new pianoforte. Frank Churchill stood up from his seat next to Jane Fairfax and joined Mr. Cole in his request.

  Emma played and sang with credit and, to her agreeable surprise, was accompanied in her song by Frank Churchill. He was praised for having a delightful voice, made more remarkable by the fact that he never took a single breath. They sang together once more, then Emma rose and gave her place at the pianoforte to Miss Fairfax.

  Emma listened to Jane’s performance, which was infinitely superior to her own. Frank Churchill sang again. They had sung together once or twice, it appeared, at the Weymouth resort.

  Presently Mr. Knightley came and sat down by Emma. They talked at first only of the performance. His admiration of Miss Fairfax was certainly warm, but not exceptional.

  “This present from the Campbells,” said Emma, “this pianoforte, is very kindly given.”

  “Yes,” replied Mr. Knightley, without the least apparent embarrassment, “but they would have done better had they given her notice of it. Surprises are foolish things. I should have expected better judgement in Colonel Campbell.”

  From that moment, Emma could have taken an oath that Mr. Knightley had no part in giving the instrument to Jane Fairfax.

  At the end of Jane’s second song, Mr. Knightley said to Emma, thinking aloud, “That will do—she has sung quite enough for one evening. Now we need quiet. My hearing being so acute, my ears are quite ringing.”

  Frank Churchill was heard to say, “I think you could manage one more effort.”

  Mr. Knightley grew angry. “That fellow,” said he, indignantly, “thinks of nothing but showing off his own voice. This must not be.”

  Mr. Knightley then caught the attention of Miss Bates, who at that moment walked by, and protested, “Miss Bates, are you mad to let your niece sing herself hoarse in this manner? Go and interfere. They have no mercy on her.”

  Miss Bates, in her real anxiety for Jane, stepped forward and put an end to all further singing. This ended the concert part of the evening, for Miss Woodhouse and Miss Fairfax were the only performers.

  But within five minutes, the proposal of dancing was so well promoted by Mr. and Mrs. Cole that everything was rapidly clearing away to give proper space. Frank Churchill, with gallantry most becoming, came up to Emma, secured her hand with his frigid touch, and led her onto the dance floor.

  Emma looked around to see what became of Mr. Knightley. This would be a trial. If he were to engage Jane Fairfax now, it might mean something. But there was no immediate appearance. No, he was talking to Mrs. Cole. Jane was asked to dance by somebody else, and he was still talking to Mrs. Cole.

  Emma had no longer any alarm for Henry—his interest was yet safe—and she led off the dance with genuine spirit and enjoyment.

  Not more than five couples were dancing, but the rarity and suddenness of it made it very delightful, and she found herself well matched in a partner. Emma Woodhouse and Frank Churchill were certainly a couple worth looking at.

  Two dances, unfortunately, were all that could be allowed. It was growing late.

  “Perhaps it is just as well,” said Frank Churchill. “I would have asked Miss Fairfax next, and her languid dancing would not have agreed with me after yours.” Jane’s great value to me, he thought, is in her neck, not her feet.

  ***

  The guests stepped outside the house as the carriages were brought round. The Coles waited outside in the cold, still, moonlit night to see their guests off.

  Mr. Knightley, with his acute hearing, was the first to hear a rustle in the shrubbery. Instinctively, his hand went to the grip of his sabre.

  “What the deuce! Not again!” cried he, as the bushes parted and six vicious, ragged creatures leapt out and charged threateningly towards the assembled group of Highbury’s finest.

  In unison, several of the ladies screamed with terror.

  “Oh, dear me! Oh, dear me!” cried Miss Bates, “Whatever is to become of us! This happening again? It is too much! I shall collapse and die this very moment from absolute fright!”

  “Cole!” ordered Mr. Knightley. “We need more weapons!”

  Mr. Cole darted into the house and returned instantly with three sabres.

  “Weston! Churchill!” exclaimed Mr. Cole, as he hurled a sabre to each.

  Mr. Weston adroitly caught his sword by the grip, but Frank Churchill allowed his sabre to fall to the ground.

  “I cannot fight!” he sheepishly protested. “I must help the ladies!”

  Emma rushed over and picked up the sabre from the ground. “Oh, very well then, I shall make good use of it.”

  Thus armed, the vampire killers—Emma, Knightley, Weston, and Cole—prepared to defend the ladies, who stood paralysed, shrieking. Frank Churchill stood before the women, his arms spread, in a feigned show of bravado. “Fear not, dear ladies of Highbury! I shall protect you!”

  The six wild fiends paused a moment and viciously eyed their four adversaries.

  “Mr. Knightley,” inquired Mr. Cole, “how shall I best employ my foil?”

  “Decapitation, my good man, is the only way. Off with their heads!” bellowed Mr. Knightley.

  At that moment, the creatures attacked—clawing and snatching, fangs dripping, eyes black and crazed.

  Mr. Knightley quickly beheaded the first vampire; Mr. Weston followed with a second, and Emma decapitated a third—three torsos and three heads rolled upon the ground.

  The gruesome sight caused Jane Fairfax to faint. Mr. Frank Churchill caught her in his arms and gently rested her on the ground as Mrs. Cole dashed inside the house to fetch the smelling salts.

  Emma dropped her sabre, unfastened her wooden stake, and stabbed the hearts of the three headless vampires.

  The three remaining vampires gathered themselves together and bolted past the sabre-wielding gentlemen towards the group of ladies, who screamed in horror.

  Harriet Smith boldly stepped in front of Miss Bates and Mrs. Weston. Holding her silver cross in full display, she cried, “Fie, monsters, fie! And away!”

  The creatures drew up and halted their advance, terrified of the holy symbol.

  Mr. Cole raised his sabre and whacked off the head of one vampire, as Mr. Knightley dispensed with the head of another. Two more ragged torsos splayed onto the ground.

  “Harriet!” exclaimed Emma. “We need your wooden stake!”

  “At the ready, Miss Woodhouse!” returned Harriet. She leaned down to reach beneath her infinite bombazine folds, but her plumpness made it impossible to reach her thigh. She struggled to grasp the yellow ribbon.

  Suddenly, the remaining wild vampire grabbed Harriet’s curls and, pulling her head back, prepared to sink its vile fangs into her neck. With mere moments before utter catastrophe, Harriet managed to release the yellow ribbon, retrieve her wooden stake, and drive its full length into the heart of the dastardly creature. It crumpled to the ground.

  Harriet stood up, shocked and agape.

  “My dear Harriet! You killed a vampire!” exclaimed Emma with great pride.

  “Why, indeed I have!” remarked Harriet.

  “Brava, Miss Smith. Well done indeed!” complimented Mr. Knightley. “Well done, all!”

  Emma then drove her stake into the hearts of the two remaining prostrate torsos, and t
he terrifying nightmare was over.

  Frank Churchill helped Jane Fairfax to her feet, as she had now come to her senses.

  “Oh, dear me!” prattled Miss Bates. “Such carnage and devastation on such a beautiful velvety lawn as the Coles! I think I have never seen such horror! Mr. Frank Churchill, you risked your very life to protect us. How can we ever repay your kindness? And Miss Woodhouse, and Mr. Weston, and Mr. Knightley, and Miss Smith—and you, Mr. Cole! Not only did you graciously host one of the loveliest dinners we have ever been blessed with, but rescued our poor souls from a hideous eternity as well!”

  “I, for one,” said Mr. Cole, “need something to calm my nerves. May I invite all of you inside for a glass of port?”

  The guests acceded to his invitation and, after several casks of amontillado had been eagerly consumed, the hosts and guests alike put the alarming incident quite out of their heads.

  Chapter 27

  Emma did not regret going to the Coles. The visit afforded her many pleasant recollections the next day, although there were some unpleasant recollections as well. Certainly she delighted the Coles with her presence—worthy people, who deserved to be made happy!

  There were, however, three points on which she was not quite easy. Firstly, she doubted whether she should have revealed her suspicions about Jane Fairfax to Frank Churchill. It was hardly right—but it was so strong an idea, and he did agree with her after all, that perhaps it was right to do so.

  The second circumstance of regret related to Frank Churchill as well. Emma was concerned that he demonstrated less than the proper amount of courage that a gentleman should exhibit in the face of danger, especially when ladies were present. Granted, he made a great show of protecting the women from the marauding vampires, but he appeared a bit too interested in Jane Fairfax’s fainting spell.

  The third, and most important, point of regret also related to Jane Fairfax—and there she had no doubt. Emma absolutely regretted the inferiority of her own playing and singing. She grieved over the idleness of her childhood—and promptly sat down and practised vigorously for an hour and a half.

  Emma’s playing was interrupted by Harriet’s coming in, and if Harriet’s praise could have satisfied her, she might have been comforted.

  “Oh!” said Harriet. “If I could but play as well as you and Miss Fairfax!”

  “Do not class us together, Harriet. My playing is no more like hers than a vampire is like a gentleman.”

  “Well, besides,” returned Harriet, “if Miss Fairfax does play so very well, you know, it will only help her later because she will have to teach it. The Cox girls were wondering last night whether she would become a governess in a great family. How did you think the Coxes looked?”

  “Just as they always do—quite vulgar. And cowardly—they hid themselves inside the house during the entire vampire attack.”

  “They told me something,” said Harriet rather hesitatingly, “but it is nothing of any consequence.”

  Emma was obliged to ask what they had told her, though fearful it would bring up Mr. Elton again.

  “They told me that Mr. Martin dined with them last Saturday.”

  “Oh!”

  “Mr. Martin came to their father on some legal business, and he was asked to stay for dinner.”

  “Oh!”

  “The Cox girls talked a great deal about Mr. Martin, especially Anne Cox. I do not know what she meant, but she asked me if I thought I should go and stay with the Martins again next summer.”

  “Anne Cox was rudely curious, as always.”

  “She said Mr. Martin was very agreeable. He sat by her at dinner, though he ate nothing. Miss Nash thinks either of the Coxes would be very glad to marry him.”

  “Very likely. I think they are, without exception, the most vulgar and cowardly girls in Highbury.”

  Harriet mentioned that she needed to go into town to purchase a new yellow ribbon at Ford’s. Emma thought it most prudent to go with her. Another accidental meeting with the Martins or wild vampires was possible, and in her present state it would be dangerous.

  ***

  At Ford’s, Harriet was tempted by every colour of ribbon and always took very long to make a purchase. While she was still dawdling, Emma waited by the door.

  Soon she saw Mrs. Weston and Frank Churchill walking into town. They went up to the Bateses’ house, across the street from Ford’s, when Emma caught their eye.

  Immediately they crossed the road and came forward to Emma. Mrs. Weston informed her that they were calling on the Bateses in order to hear the new pianoforte.

  “And while Mrs. Weston pays her visit, Emma, I trust I may be allowed,” said Frank Churchill, “to join you and wait for Mrs. Weston at Hartfield—if you are going home.”

  Mrs. Weston was disappointed. “I thought you meant to go with me. The Bateses would be very much pleased. And I am certain they could use some comfort after last night’s horrifying scare.”

  “Me! I should be quite in the way.”

  “I am not here on business of my own,” said Emma. “I am only waiting for Harriet. She will probably be done soon and then we shall go home. Frank, you had better go with Mrs. Weston, hear the pianoforte, and comfort Miss Bates.”

  “Well, if you advise it.”

  Emma watched them enter the Bateses’ door, then joined Harriet at the counter and convinced her friend that a blue ribbon, be it ever so beautiful, would still never match her yellow bombazine. At last it was all settled, and Harriet purchased an extra long yellow silk ribbon for her wooden stake.

  At the door, they were met by Mrs. Weston and Miss Bates.

  “My dear Miss Woodhouse,” said Miss Bates, “I just ran across to beg you to come and sit down with us a little while and give us your opinion of our new pianoforte—you and Miss Smith. My mother will be so very happy to see you. Would you believe it, Mr. Churchill is back in the house, fastening the rivet of my mother’s spectacles, using his remarkable vision to see the tiniest parts.”

  Emma said, “I should be very happy to visit with Mrs. Bates.”

  When they were all in the street, Miss Bates said, “Oh, my mother’s spectacles! So very obliging of Mr. Frank Churchill! He said, ‘I do think I can fasten the rivet. I like a job of this kind excessively.’ I do congratulate you, Mrs. Weston, most warmly. He shielded me from harm last evening and now assists my dear mother. He seems everything the fondest parent could dream of. I never shall forget his manner.”

  Chapter 28

  The appearance of the little sitting room as they entered the Bateses’ house was tranquillity itself—Mrs. Bates, asleep by the fire; Frank Churchill, at a table as far away from the fire as possible, occupied with her spectacles; and Jane Fairfax, sitting with her back to them, intent on her pianoforte.

  Busy as he was, however, Frank was yet able to show a most happy face upon seeing Emma again.

  “This is a pleasure,” said he. “You find me trying to be useful.”

  He contrived that Emma should be seated by him. Jane began playing and, though the first bars were feebly given, the power of the instrument was gradually done full justice to.

  Mrs. Weston was delighted, Emma joined her in praise, and the pianoforte was pronounced to be of the highest promise.

  “Colonel Campbell has chosen his gift well,” said Frank Churchill, with a smile and a glance of his onyx eyes at Emma. “Do you not think so, Miss Fairfax?”

  Jane did not look round. She was not obliged to hear.

  “This is not fair,” said Emma to Frank in a whisper. “My guess last night was merely a random one. Do not distress her.”

  He shook his head with a smile and looked as if he had very little doubt and very little mercy. Soon afterwards he began again.

  “Your friends in Ireland must wonder which day the pianoforte will arrive.” He paused.

 
Jane could not avoid answering. “Till I have a letter from Colonel Campbell,” said she, in a voice of forced calmness, “I can imagine nothing with any confidence. It must be all conjecture.”

  “Conjecture—aye, sometimes one conjectures right, and sometimes one conjectures wrong.” Then he added, “Mrs. Bates,” who was now awake, “I have the pleasure, madam, of restoring your spectacles, healed for the present.”

  He was very warmly thanked both by mother and daughter; he went to the pianoforte and begged Miss Fairfax, who was still sitting at it, to play something more.

  She played.

  “What happiness to hear a tune again which has made one happy!” he exclaimed. “If I mistake not, that was danced at Weymouth.”

  Jane looked up at him for a moment, blushed deeply, and played something else.

  Frank took some sheet music from a chair near the pianoforte and, turning to Emma, said, “Here is something quite new. It was sent with the instrument. Very thoughtful of Colonel Campbell, was it not? Only true affection could have prompted it.”

  Emma wished he would be less pointed, yet she could not help being amused; and when she glanced at Jane Fairfax, she saw that, with all the deep blush, there had been a smile of secret delight.

  This upright, perfect Jane Fairfax was apparently cherishing some very naughty feelings!

  Frank brought all the music to Jane, then returned to his seat.

  Emma whispered to him, “You speak too bluntly. I am sure she must understand your meaning.”

  “I trust she does. I would have her understand me. I am not in the least ashamed of my meaning.”

  “But really, I am half-ashamed and wish I had never suggested the idea.”

  “I am very glad you did,” replied Frank, “and that you told me. I now understand all her odd looks and ways. Leave shame to her. If she does wrong, she ought to feel it.”

  “But I think she is ashamed.”