Emma and the Vampires

by Wayne Josephson

  Mr. Knightley and his sabre-armed band of gentlemen, in what had become almost instinctive behaviour, began lopping off the heads of the creatures as they hurtled towards the crowd full of ladies and unarmed male guests.

  Heads fell left and right, torsos collapsed on the ground, and blood spilled and gushed everywhere.

  The ladies screamed at the horrific massacre, with Miss Bates and Mrs. Elton screaming the loudest, as Frank Churchill and Mr. Elton spread their arms out and formed a buffer between the night monsters and their intended victims.

  Emma and Harriet Smith, both wielding wooden stakes in each hand, valiantly plunged their weapons into the hearts of one vampire after another.

  Within minutes, it was over. The street was a river of blood, severed heads, and stabbed torsos.

  The crowd became subdued, with only whimpers and soft cries emanating from the ladies.

  Exhausted and covered with blood, the gentlemen swordsmen and Emma and Harriet surveyed the carnage to ensure that all the vampires were indeed dead.

  Miss Bates was the first to speak, and speak she did. “Oh! Mr. Knightley, what a brave and gallant soldier you are! Is he not, Jane? Oh! Such devastation! Did you ever see anything like it? I must tell my mother about this. Oh! Mr. Frank Churchill and Vicar Elton, risking your very lives to protect us fair ladies! Jane, were not Mr. Weston and Cole and Cox the most courageous warriors in Highbury history! And Miss Woodhouse and Miss Smith! To have rescued our fairyland ball from this menace! Oh! So much blood! Jane, what has happened to your hair?”

  Chapter 39

  The next morning, while walking about the lawn at Hartfield, one of Emma’s most agreeable recollections of the ball, besides her part in the victorious battle with the hideous vampires, was her conversation with Mr. Knightley. She was extremely glad that his opinion of the Eltons was so much in concert with hers; and his praise of Harriet was gratifying.

  She hoped that Mr. Elton’s rudeness would cure Harriet of her infatuation with him. It seemed as if Harriet’s eyes were suddenly opened, and she was able to see that Mr. Elton was not the superior creature she had believed him.

  Harriet was thinking rationally, Frank Churchill was not too much in love with Emma, and Mr. Knightley did not want to argue with her—how very happy a summer lay ahead!

  Suddenly, the great iron gate of Hartfield opened, and through it passed two people whom Emma had never expected to see together—Frank Churchill with Harriet leaning on his arm!

  A moment later, as Emma watched them approach the house, she realised that something extraordinary had happened. Harriet’s skin was as pale as Frank’s—certainly they had not eloped! But no, she looked frightened, and he was trying to cheer her.

  Soon, all three were in the hall, and Harriet immediately sat down in a chair and fainted. A young lady who faints must be recovered—questions must be answered and surprises explained. Soon Emma learned the whole story.

  Miss Smith and Miss Bickerton, another boarder at Mrs. Goddard’s, who had been also at the ball, had taken a walk together that morning on the Richmond road. About half a mile beyond Highbury, it became deeply shaded and isolated, when the young ladies suddenly came upon a band of wild vampires.

  Miss Bickerton, excessively frightened, gave a great scream and, calling on Harriet to follow her, ran up a steep bank and took a shortcut back to Highbury. But poor Harriet could not follow. She had suffered a cramp after dancing and could not make it up the bank to escape. And her cramp prevented her from bending down to retrieve her trusty wooden stake!

  Harriet was attacked by half a dozen vampires, who would have devoured Harriet had it not been for the silver cross about her neck which kept them momentarily at bay.

  By a most fortunate chance, Frank Churchill had decided to walk from Richmond to Highbury on the same road. He came upon the scene and found Harriet, trembling, and the vampires hovering around her.

  He came to her assistance at this critical moment. He had that very morning most fortunately decided to begin carrying his sabre, after having been accused by Mr. Knightley of being a coward at the Crown Inn.

  Frank Churchill’s superior fencing skills left several assailants headless, and the rest of the vampires retreated hastily to the dense woods.

  Harriet, eagerly clinging to him and hardly able to speak, had just strength enough to reach Hartfield before her spirits were quite overcome.

  Frank could not stay any longer than to see Harriet well. Emma gave him assurance that she would see Harriet safely back to Mrs. Goddard’s. And so, he was gone in a flash of light, with all the grateful blessings that Emma could utter for her friend and herself.

  At that moment, Emma’s opinion of Mr. Frank Churchill turned to utmost admiration. He was no coward indeed! She must inform Mr. Knightley forthwith!

  Such an adventure as this—a fine young man and a lovely young woman thrown together in such a way, Emma thought—could hardly fail to suggest certain ideas. Such a match would help Frank forget about his infatuation with Emma, and Harriet to forget about Mr. Elton!

  Everything was to take its natural course, however. Emma would not stir a step, nor drop a hint. No, she had had enough of interference. There could be no harm in a scheme, a mere passive scheme. It was no more than a wish. Beyond it she would on no account proceed.

  Emma’s first resolution was to keep her father from knowledge of what had happened to Harriet, aware of the anxiety and alarm it would cause—but she soon realised that secrecy would be impossible. Within half an hour it was known all over Highbury.

  It was the very event to engage those who talked most, and all the youth and servants in Highbury were soon chatting about the frightful news. Last night’s ball became lost in the new vampire attack on Harriet Smith and her gallant rescue by Mr. Frank Churchill.

  Poor Mr. Woodhouse trembled as he sat and, as Emma had foreseen, would scarcely be satisfied without her promising never to go beyond the shrubbery again. It was some comfort to him that many inquiries after himself and Miss Woodhouse, as well as Miss Smith, were coming in during the rest of the day.

  The story soon faded out, except to Emma and her nephews. In her imagination it maintained its ground, and Henry and John were still asking every day for the story of Harriet and the vampires and still correcting Emma if she varied in the slightest detail from the original story.

  The great benefit, of course, that accrued from the vicious attack was this: The secret hiding place of the wild, vagrant vampires was now revealed. Mr. Knightley immediately began formulating a plan to organise the Vampire Killers of Highbury to wipe out the nest of creatures forever.

  Chapter 40

  A few days after this adventure, Harriet came one morning to Emma with a small parcel in her hand and, after sitting down and hesitating, thus began: “Miss Woodhouse, I have something that I should like to tell you—a sort of confession to make—and then it will be over.”

  Emma was a good deal surprised but begged her to speak. There was a seriousness in Harriet’s manner which prepared Emma, quite as much as Harriet’s words, for something more than ordinary.

  “It is my duty and my wish,” continued Harriet, “to tell you that I am happily a changed person, and you should have the satisfaction of knowing it. I am so much ashamed. I can see nothing at all extraordinary in Mr. Elton now. I do not envy his wife in the least—I neither admire her nor envy her. She is very charming, I daresay, but I think she is a shock to one’s system and very ill-tempered and disagreeable.

  “However, I assure you, Miss Woodhouse, I wish her no evil. No, let them be ever so happy together, to gaze into each other’s red eyes in the darkened rooms of the vicarage. And to convince you that I have been speaking the truth, I am now going to destroy what I ought never to have kept. And it is my particular wish to do it in your presence, that you may see how rational I have become. Can you not guess what this parcel
holds?”

  “Not the least in the world. Did Mr. Elton ever give you anything?”

  “No, I cannot call them gifts, but they are things that I have valued very much.”

  Harriet held the parcel towards her, and Emma read the words Most Precious Treasures on the top. Her curiosity was greatly excited.

  Harriet unfolded the parcel and Emma looked on with impatience. Within an abundance of pale pink paper was a pretty little inlaid wooden box, which Harriet opened. It was well lined with the softest cotton, but besides the cotton, Emma saw only a small piece of bandage.

  “Now,” said Harriet, “surely you must remember.”

  “No, indeed I do not.”

  “Dear me! I should not have thought it possible you could forget what happened in this very room! It was a few days before I had my sore throat. Do you not remember Mr. Elton’s cutting his finger with your new penknife and your recommending a bandage? But, as you had none, I took mine out and cut him a piece; but it was too large, and he cut it smaller, and gave the rest back to me. And then, in my nonsense, I could not help making a treasure of it and looked at it now and then as a great treat.”

  “My dearest Harriet!” cried Emma, putting her hand before her face and jumping up. “You make me more ashamed of myself than I can bear. I remember it all now—all except your saving this relic. Well,” she said, sitting down again, “go on—what else?”

  “Here,” resumed Harriet, turning to her box again. “Here is something still more valuable, because this is what really did once belong to him.”

  Emma was quite eager to see this superior treasure. But—it was the end of an old pencil, the part without any lead.

  “This was really his,” said Harriet. “Do you not remember? One morning, Mr. Elton wanted to make a memorandum in his pocket-book; but when he took out his pencil, there was so little lead that he soon cut it all away, so you lent him another, and this was left upon the table. But I kept my eye on it; and as soon as I dared, took it and never parted with it again from that moment.”

  “I do remember it,” cried Emma. “I perfectly remember it. Well, go on.”

  “Oh! That’s all. I have nothing more to show you or to say except that I am now going to throw them both in the fire, and I wish you to see me do it.”

  “My poor dear Harriet! And have you actually found happiness in treasuring these things?”

  “Yes, simpleton that I was! But I am quite ashamed of it now and wish I could forget as easily as I can burn them. It was very wrong of me, you know, to keep any remembrances after he was married.”

  As she tossed them in the fire, she said, “There it goes, and there is an end, thank heaven, of Mr. Elton.”

  And when, thought Emma, will there be a beginning of Mr. Churchill?

  ***

  About two weeks later, in the course of some trivial chat, Emma advised Harriet that “whenever you marry I would advise you to do so and so” and thought no more of it.

  After a minute’s silence Harriet said in a very serious tone, “I shall never marry.”

  Emma then looked up and replied, “Never marry! This is a new resolution.”

  “It is one that I shall never change, however. I shall devote my life to killing vampires with my wooden stake.”

  “My dear Harriet, I applaud your noble resolution. And thanks to you, the secret hiding place of the wild, vagrant vampires is now known to us. Mr. Knightley has informed me that he is devising a scheme to invade their nest and vanquish them forever! You will certainly be called upon to assist in this valiant quest.”

  “Oh, indeed, Miss Woodhouse! I should be honoured to contribute both my wooden stakes to the effort!”

  After short hesitation, Emma said, “I trust this decision of yours never to marry is not a result of Mr. Elton?”

  “Mr. Elton indeed!” cried Harriet indignantly. “Oh no! So superior to Mr. Elton!”

  Emma then took a longer time for consideration. Should she proceed no further? Should she let it pass and seem to suspect nothing? She believed it would be wiser for her to say it. She was decided and thus spoke: “Harriet, does your resolution of never marrying result from an idea that the person whom you might prefer would be too greatly your superior in society to consider you?”

  “Oh, yes! Miss Woodhouse, believe me, I would never expect him even to look at me a second time! But it is a pleasure for me to admire him at a distance—and to think of his infinite superiority to all the rest of the world, with the gratitude, wonder, and veneration that I have towards him. His skin is pale and his eyes are ebony like Mr. Elton, but he is so far superior!”

  Emma was sure that Harriet was speaking of Frank Churchill. “I am not at all surprised at you, Harriet. The service he rendered you was enough to warm your heart.”

  “Service! Oh, the very recollection of it and all that I felt at the time—when I saw him coming, his noble look, and my wretchedness before. Such a change! In one moment such a change! From perfect misery to perfect happiness!”

  “It is very natural. It is natural, and it is honourable, to fall in love with such a gentleman. But perhaps it will be wise to check your feelings while you can—do not let them carry you far, unless you are persuaded of his liking you. Be observant of him. Let his behaviour be your guide. Remember, we were very wrong before; we shall be cautious now. He is your superior, no doubt, and there do seem serious obstacles. However, such a match is not without hope.”

  Harriet kissed her hand in silent gratitude. Emma was very decided in thinking that such a romance would be a good thing. It would improve and refine her little friend.

  Chapter 41

  Mr. Knightley, who had taken an early dislike to Frank Churchill, was only growing to dislike him more, despite his heroic effort in saving Harriet Smith’s life. He began to suspect Frank of a double-cross in his pursuit of Emma. It certainly appeared that Frank was courting Emma. Everything pointed to it—Frank’s own attentions, Mr. Weston’s hints, and Mrs. Weston’s guarded silence.

  But, while so many were matching Frank Churchill with Emma, and Emma herself matching Frank with Harriet, Mr. Knightley began to suspect Frank’s affections leaning towards Jane Fairfax. There were knowing glances between them which, having once observed, he could not persuade himself were wrong. And then, of course, there was Jane’s fair white neck—and Frank’s black eyes revealed he was in dire need of fresh blood.

  The suspicion first arose when Mr. Knightley was dining with the Westons, and he had seen more than a single look from Frank Churchill at Miss Fairfax which seemed somewhat out of place. When he was again in their company, he could not help observing something of a private understanding between Frank and the young lady.

  Mr. Knightley’s strongest proof of his suspicion came one day at the end of a walk, which included a large group—Emma and Harriet, Mr. and Mrs. Weston and their son Frank Churchill, and Miss Bates and her niece Jane Fairfax. Upon reaching the gates of Hartfield, Emma pressed them all to come in and drink tea with Mr. Woodhouse. They all agreed to it immediately.

  As they were turning onto the grounds of Hartfield, Mr. Perry passed by on horseback and greeted the group as he rode on.

  Frank Churchill said to Mrs. Weston, “What became of Mr. Perry’s plan to buy a carriage?”

  Mrs. Weston looked surprised, and said, “I did not know that he ever had any such plan.”

  “But I heard it from you. You wrote me word of it three months ago.”

  “Me? Impossible!”

  “Indeed you did. I remember it perfectly. You mentioned that Mrs. Perry was extremely happy about it because Mr. Perry being out in bad weather did him a great deal of harm. You must remember it now.”

  “Upon my word, I never heard of it till this moment.”

  “Really, never? Bless me! Then I must have dreamed it—but I was completely persuaded.”


  Emma was out of hearing distance. She had hurried on to the house ahead of her guests to prepare her father for their arrival.

  “Why, to tell the truth,” cried Miss Bates, “I remember that Mrs. Perry herself mentioned it to my mother—but it was quite a secret, known to nobody else. Jane, do you not remember Grandmamma’s telling us of it?”

  They were entering the hall. Mr. Knightley noticed that Frank Churchill glanced towards Jane’s face with a suppressed laugh. But she was behind Mr. Weston and could not see Frank. Mr. Knightley continued to watch the young vampire as he tried to catch Jane’s eye, but she looked away. It occurred to Mr. Knightley that perhaps Frank Churchill learned of the new carriage through a secret letter from Jane Fairfax.

  There was no time for further remark or explanation. Mr. Knightley took his seat with the rest of the group round the large modern circular table which Emma had introduced at Hartfield. Tea passed pleasantly, and nobody seemed in a hurry to leave.

  “Miss Woodhouse,” said Frank Churchill, after examining a table behind him, “have your nephews taken away their box of alphabet letters? It used to sit here. We had great amusement with those letters one morning. I want to puzzle you again.”

  Emma was pleased with the thought and, producing the box, the table was quickly scattered over with alphabets. Emma and Frank were rapidly forming words for each other or for anybody else who wanted to be puzzled.

  Frank Churchill placed a word, with the letters scrambled, before Miss Fairfax. She gave a slight glance round the table and applied herself to unscrambling it. Jane figured out the word created by Frank and, with a faint smile, pushed it away.

  Harriet, eager to play, took the word aside and tried to solve it. She was sitting by Mr. Knightley and turned to him for help. The word was blunder, and as Harriet excitedly announced it, there was a blush on Jane’s cheek which gave it a meaning not clear to the others.