CHAPTER XXXIX.
THE STORM AND THE FIGHT.-THE ADMIRAL'S REPUDIATION OF HIS PRINCIPAL.
"Well," said the admiral, when they were fairly under the tree, upon theleaves of which the pattering rain might be heard falling: "well--whatis it?"
"If your young friend, Mr. Bannerworth, should chance to send apistol-bullet through any portion of my anatomy, prejudicial to theprolongation of my existence, you will be so good as not to interferewith anything I may have about me, or to make any disturbance whatever."
"You may depend I sha'n't."
"Just take the matter perfectly easy--as a thing of course."
"Oh! I mean d----d easy."
"Ha! what a delightful thing is friendship! There is a little knoll ormound of earth midway between here and the Hall. Do you happen to knowit? There is one solitary tree glowing near its summit--an orientallooking tree, of the fir tribe, which, fan-like, spreads its deep greenleaves; across the azure sky."
"Oh! bother it; it's a d----d old tree, growing upon a little bit of ahill, I suppose you mean?"
"Precisely; only much more poetically expressed. The moon rises at aquarter past four to-night, or rather to-morrow, morning."
"Does it?"
"Yes; and if I should happen to be killed, you will have me removedgently to this mound of earth, and there laid beneath this tree, with myface upwards; and take care that it is done before the moon rises. Youcan watch that no one interferes."
"A likely job. What the deuce do you take me for? I tell you what it is,Mr. Vampyre, or Varney, or whatever's your name, if you should chance tobe hit, where-ever you chance to fall, there you'll lie."
"How very unkind."
"Uncommon, ain't it?"
"Well, well, since that is your determination, I must take care ofmyself in another way. I can do so, and I will."
"Take care of yourself how you like, for all I care; I've come here tosecond you, and to see that, on the honour of a seaman, if you are putout of the world, it's done in a proper manner, that's all I have to dowith you--now you know."
Sir Francis Varney looked after him with a strange kind of smile, as hewalked away to make the necessary preparation with Marchdale for theimmediate commencement of the contest.
These were simple and brief. It was agreed that twelve paces should bemeasured out, six each way, from a fixed point; one six to be paced bythe admiral, and the other by Marchdale; then they were to draw lots, tosee at which end of this imaginary line Varney was to be placed; afterthis the signal for firing was to be one, two, three--fire!
A few minutes sufficed to complete these arrangements; the ground wasmeasured in the manner we have stated, and the combatants placed intheir respective positions, Sir Francis Varney occupying the same spotwhere he had at first stood, namely, that nearest to the little wood,and to his own residence.
It is impossible that under such circumstances the bravest and thecalmest of mankind could fail to feel some slight degree of tremour oruneasiness; and, although we can fairly claim for Henry Bannerworth thathe was as truly courageous as any right feeling Christian man could wishto be, yet when it was possible that he stood within, as it were, ahair's breadth of eternity, a strange world of sensation and emotionsfound a home in his heart, and he could not look altogether undaunted onthat future which might, for all he knew to the contrary, be so close athand, as far as he was concerned.
It was not that he feared death, but that he looked with a decentgravity upon so grave a change as that from this world to the next, andhence was it that his face was pale, and that he looked all the emotionwhich he really felt.
This was the aspect and the bearing of a brave but not a reckless man;while Sir Francis Varney, on the other hand, seemed, now that he hadfairly engaged in the duel, to look upon it and its attendantcircumstances with a kind of smirking satisfaction, as if he were farmore amused than personally interested.
This was certainly the more extraordinary after the manner in which hehad tried to evade the fight, and, at all events, was quite a sufficientproof that cowardice had not been his actuating motive in so doing.
The admiral, who stood on a level with him, could not see the sort ofexpression he wore, or, probably, he would have been far from wellpleased; but the others did, and they found something inexpressiblydisagreeable in the smirking kind of satisfaction with which the vampyreseemed to regard now the proceedings.
"Confound him," whispered Marchdale to Henry, "one would think he wasquite delighted, instead, as we had imagined him, not well pleased, atthese proceedings; look how he grins."
"It is no matter," said Henry; "let him wear what aspect he may, it isthe same to me; and, as Heaven is my judge, I here declare, if I did notthink myself justified in so doing, I would not raise my hand againstthis man."
"There can be no shadow of a doubt regarding your justification. Have athim, and Heaven protect you."
"Amen!"
The admiral was to give the word to fire, and now he and Marshal havingstepped sufficiently on one side to be out of all possible danger fromany stray shot, he commenced repeating the signal,--
"Are you ready, gentlemen?--once."
They looked sternly at each other, and each grasped his pistol.
"Twice!"
Sir Francis Varney smiled and looked around him, as if the affair wereone of the most common-place description.
"Thrice!"
Varney seemed to be studying the sky rather than attending to the duel.
"Fire!" said the admiral, and one report only struck upon the ear. Itwas that from Henry's pistol.
All eyes were turned upon Sir Francis Varney, who had evidently reservedhis fire, for what purpose could not be devised, except a murderous one,the taking of a more steady aim at Henry.
Sir Francis, however, seemed in no hurry, but smiled significantly, andgradually raised the point of his weapon.
"Did you hear the word, Sir Francis? I gave it loud enough, I am sure. Inever spoke plainer in my life; did I ever, Jack?"
"Yes, often," said Jack Pringle; "what's the use of your asking suchyarns as them? you know you have done so often enough when you wantedgrog."
"You d----d rascal, I'll--I'll have your back scored, I will."
"So you will, when you are afloat again, which you never will be--you'repaid off, that's certain."
"You lubberly lout, you ain't a seaman; a seaman would never mutinyagainst his admiral; howsomever, do you hear, Sir Francis, I'll give thematter up, if you don't pay some attention to me."
Henry looked steadily at Varney, expecting every moment to feel hisbullet. Mr. Marchdale hastily exclaimed that this was not according tousage.
Sir Francis Varney took no notice, but went on elevating his weapon;when it was perpendicular to the earth he fired in the air.
"I had not anticipated this," said Marchdale, as he walked to Henry. "Ithought he was taking a more deadly aim."
"And I," said Henry.
"Ay, you have escaped, Henry; let me congratulate you."
"Not so fast; we may fire again."
"I can afford to do that," he said, with a smile.
"You should have fired, sir, according to custom," said the admiral;"this is not the proper thing."
"What, fire at your friend?"
"Oh, that's all very well! You are my friend for a time, vampyre as youare, and I intend you shall fire."
"If Mr. Henry Bannerworth demands another fire, I have no objection toit, and will fire at him; but as it is I shall not do so, indeed, itwould be quite useless for him to do so--to point mortal weapons at meis mere child's play, they will not hurt me."
"The devil they won't," said the admiral.
"Why, look you here," said Sir Francis Varney, stepping forward andplacing his hand to his neckerchief; "look you here; if Mr. HenryBannerworth should demand another fire, he may do so with the samebullet."
"The same bullet!" said Marchdale, stepping forward--"the same bullet!How is this?"
"My eyes,"
said Jack; "who'd a thought it; there's a go! Wouldn't he dofor a dummy--to lead a forlorn hope, or to put among the boarders?"
"Here," said Sir Francis, handing a bullet to Henry Bannerworth--"hereis the bullet you shot at me."
Henry looked at it--it was blackened by powder; and then Marchdaleseized it and tried it in the pistol, but found the bullet fittedHenry's weapon.
"By heavens, it is so!" he exclaimed, stepping back and looking atVarney from top to toe in horror and amazement.
"D----e," said the admiral, "if I understand this. Why Jack Pringle, youdog, here's a strange fish."
"On, no! there's plenty on 'um in some countries."
"Will you insist upon another fire, or may I consider you satisfied?"
"I shall object," said Marchdale. "Henry, this affair must go nofurther; it would be madness--worse than madness, to fight upon suchterms."
"So say I," said the admiral. "I will not have anything to do with you,Sir Francis. I'll not be your second any longer. I didn't bargain forsuch a game as this. You might as well fight with the man in brassarmour, at the Lord Mayor's show, or the champion at a coronation."
"Oh!" said Jack Pringle; "a man may as well fire at the back of ahalligator as a wamphigher."
"This must be considered as having been concluded," said Mr. Marchdale.
"No!" said Henry.
"And wherefore not?"
"Because I have not received his fire."
"Heaven forbid you should."
"I may not with honour quit the ground without another fire."
"Under ordinary circumstances there might be some shadow of an excusefor your demand; but as it is there is none. You have neither honour norcredit to gain by such an encounter, and, certainly, you can gain noobject."
"How are we to decide this affair? Am I considered absolved from theaccusation under which I lay, of cowardice?" inquired Sir FrancisVarney, with a cold smile.
"Why, as for that," said the admiral, "I should as soon expect creditfor fighting behind a wall, as with a man that I couldn't hit any morethan the moon."
"Henry; let me implore you to quit this scene; it can do no good."
At this moment, a noise, as of human voices, was heard at a distance;this caused a momentary pause, and, the whole party stood still andlistened.
The murmurs and shouts that now arose in the distance were indistinctand confused.
"What can all this mean?" said Marchdale; "there is something verystrange about it. I cannot imagine a cause for so unusual anoccurrence."
"Nor I," said Sir Francis Varney, looking suspiciously at HenryBannerworth.
"Upon my honour I know neither what is the cause nor the nature of thesounds themselves."
"Then we can easily see what is the matter from yonder hillock," saidthe admiral; "and there's Jack Pringle, he's up there already. What's hetelegraphing about in that manner, I wonder?"
The fact was, Jack Pringle, hearing the riot, had thought that if he gotto the neighbouring eminence he might possibly ascertain what it wasthat was the cause of what he termed the "row," and had succeeded insome degree.
There were a number of people of all kinds coming out from the village,apparently armed, and shouting. Jack Pringle hitched up his trousers andswore, then took off his hat and began to shout to the admiral, as hesaid,--
"D----e, they are too late to spoil the sport. Hilloa! hurrah!"
"What's all that about, Jack?" inquired the admiral, as he came puffingalong. "What's the squall about?"
"Only a few horse-marines and bumboat-women, that have been startledlike a company of penguins."
"Oh! my eyes! wouldn't a whole broadside set 'em flying, Jack?"
"Ay; just as them Frenchmen that you murdered on board the BigThunderer, as you called it."
"I murder them, you rascal?"
"Yes; there was about five hundred of them killed."
"They were only shot."
"They were killed, only your conscience tells you it's uncomfortable."
"You rascal--you villain! You ought to be keel-hauled and well payed."
"Ay; you're payed, and paid off as an old hulk."
"D----e--you--you--oh! I wish I had you on board ship, I'd make yourlubberly carcass like a union jack, full of red and blue stripes."
"Oh! it's all very well; but if you don't take to your heels, you'llhave all the old women in the village a whacking on you, that's all Ihave to say about it. You'd better port your helm and about ship, oryou'll be keel-hauled."
"D--n your--"
"What's the matter?" inquired Marchdale, as he arrived.
"What's the cause of all the noise we have heard?" said Sir Francis;"has some village festival spontaneously burst forth among the rusticsof this place?"
"I cannot tell the cause of it," said Henry Bannerworth; "but they seemto me to be coming towards this place."
"Indeed!"
"I think so too," said Marchdale.
"With what object?" inquired Sir Francis Varney.
"No peaceable one," observed Henry; "for, as far I can observe, theystruck across the country, as though they would enclose something, orintercept somebody."
"Indeed! but why come here?"
"If I knew that I could have at once told the cause."
"And they appear armed with a variety of odd weapons," observed SirFrancis; "they mean an attack upon some one! Who is that man with them?he seems to be deprecating their coming."
"That appears to be Mr. Chillingworth," said Henry; "I think that ishe."
"Yes," observed the admiral; "I think I know the build of that craft;he's been in our society before. I always know a ship as soon as I seeit."
"Does you, though?" said Jack.
"Yea; what do you mean, eh? let me hear what you've got to say againstyour captain and your admiral, you mutinous dog; you tell me, I say."
"So I will; you thought you were fighting a big ship in a fog, and fireda dozen broadsides or so, and it was only the Flying Dutchman, or thedevil."
"You infernal dog--"
"Well, you know it was; it might a been our own shadow for all I cantell. Indeed, I think it was."
"You think!"
"Yes."
"That's mutiny; I'll have no more to do with you, Jack Pringle; you'reno seaman, and have no respect for your officer. Now sheer off, or I'llcut your yards."
"Why, as for my yards, I'll square 'em presently if I like, you oldswab; but as for leaving you, very well; you have said so, and you shallbe accommodated, d----e; however, it was not so when your nob was nearlyrove through with a boarding pike; it wasn't 'I'll have no more to dowith Jack Pringle' then, it was more t'other."
"Well, then, why be so mutinous?"
"Because you aggrawates me."
The cries of the mob became more distinct as they drew nearer to theparty, who began to evince some uneasiness as to their object.
"Surely," said Marchdale, "Mr. Chillingworth has not named anythingrespecting the duel that has taken place."
"No, no."
"But he was to have been here this morning," said the admiral. "Iunderstood he was to be here in his own character of a surgeon, and yetI have not seen him; have any of you?"
"No," said Henry.
"Then here he comes in the character of conservator of the publicpeace," said Varney, coldly; "however, I believe that his errand will beuseless since the affair is, I presume, concluded."
"Down with the vampyre!"
"Eh!" said the admiral, "eh, what's that, eh? What did they say?"
"If you'll listen they'll tell you soon enough, I'll warrant."
"May be they will, and yet I'd like to know now."
Sir Francis Varney looked significantly at Marchdale, and then waitedwith downcast eyes for the repetition of the words.
"Down with the vampyre!" resounded on all sides from the people who camerapidly towards them, and converging towards a centre. "Burn, destroy,and kill the vampyre! No vampyre; burn him out; down with him; killhim!"
>
Then came Mr. Chillingworth's voice, who, with much earnestness,endeavoured to exhort them to moderation, and to refrain from violence.
Sir Francis Varney became very pale agitated; he immediately turned, andtaking the least notice, he made for the wood, which lay between him andhis own house, leaving the people in the greatest agitation.
Mr. Marchdale was not unmoved at this occurrence, but stood his groundwith Henry Bannerworth, the admiral, and Jack Pringle, until the mobcame very near to them, shouting, and uttering cries of vengeance, anddeath of all imaginable kinds that it was possible to conceive, againstthe unpopular vampyre.
Pending the arrival of these infuriated persons, we will, in a fewwords, state how it was that so suddenly a set of circumstances aroseproductive of an amount of personal danger to Varney, such as, up tothat time, had seemed not at all likely to occur.
We have before stated there was but one person out of the family of theBannerworths who was able to say anything of a positive characterconcerning the singular and inexplicable proceedings at the Hall; andthat that person was Mr. Chillingworth, an individual not at all likelyto become garrulous upon the subject.
But, alas! the best of men have their weaknesses, and we much regret tosay that Mr. Chillingworth so far in this instance forgot that admirablediscretion which commonly belonged to him, as to be the cause of thepopular tumult which had now readied such a height.
In a moment of thoughtlessness and confidence, he told his wife. Yes,this really clever man, from whom one would not have expected such apiece of horrible indiscretion, actually told his wife all about thevampyre. But such is human nature; combined with an amount of firmnessand reasoning power, that one would have thought to be invulnerablesafeguards, we find some weakness which astonishes all calculation.
Such was this of Mr. Chillingworth's. It is true, he cautioned the ladyto be secret, and pointed to her the danger of making Varney the vampyrea theme for gossip; but he might as well have whispered to a hurricaneto be so good as not to go on blowing so, as request Mrs. Chillingworthto keep a secret.
Of course she burst into the usual fervent declarations of "Who was sheto tell? Was she a person who went about telling things? When did shesee anybody? Not she, once in a blue moon;" and then, when Mr.Chillingworth went out, like the King of Otaheite, she invited theneighbours round about to come to take some tea.
Under solemn promises of secrecy, sixteen ladies that evening were madeacquainted with the full and interesting particulars of the attack ofthe vampyre on Flora Bannerworth, and all the evidence inculpating SirFrancis Varney as the blood-thirsty individual.
When the mind comes to consider that these sixteen ladies multipliedtheir information by about four-and-twenty each, we become quite lost ina sea of arithmetic, and feel compelled to sum up the whole by a candidassumption that in four-and-twenty hours not an individual in the wholetown was ignorant of the circumstances.
On the morning before the projected duel, there was an unusual commotionin the streets. People were conversing together in little knots, andusing rather violent gesticulations. Poor Mr. Chillingworth! he alonewas ignorant of the causes of the popular commotion, and so he went tobed wondering that an unusual bustle pervaded the little market town,but not at all guessing its origin.
Somehow or another, however, the populace, who had determined to make ademonstration on the following morning against the vampyre, thought ithighly necessary first to pay some sort of compliment to Mr.Chillingworth, and, accordingly, at an early hour, a great mob assembledoutside his house, and gave three terrific applauding shouts, whichroused him most unpleasantly from his sleep; and induced the greatestastonishment at the cause of such a tumult.
Oh, that artful Mrs. Chillingworth! too well she knew what was thematter; yet she pretended to be so oblivious upon the subject.
"Good God!" cried Mr. Chillingworth, as he started up in bed, "what'sall that?"
"All what?" said his wife.
"All what! Do you mean to say you heard nothing?"
"Well, I think I did hear a little sort of something."
"A little sort of something? It shook the house."
"Well, well; never mind. Go to sleep again; it's no business of ours."
"Yes; but it may be, though. It's all very well to say 'go to sleep.'That happens to be a thing I can't do. There's something amiss."
"Well, what's that to you?"
"Perhaps nothing; but, perhaps, everything."
Mr. Chillingworth sprang from his bed, and began dressing, a processwhich he executed with considerable rapidity, and in which he was muchaccelerated by two or three supplementary shouts from the people below.
Then, in a temporary lull, a loud voice shouted,--
"Down with the vampyre--down with the vampyre!"
The truth in an instant burst over the mind of Mr. Chillingworth; and,turning to his wife, he exclaimed,--
"I understand it now. You've been gossipping about Sir Francis Varney,and have caused all this tumult."
"I gossip! Well, I never! Lay it on me; it's sure to be my fault. Imight have known that beforehand. I always am."
"But you must have spoken of it."
"Who have I got to speak to about it?"
"Did you, or did you not?"
"Who should I tell?"
Mr. Chillingworth was dressed, and he hastened down and entered thestreet with great desperation. He had a hope that he might be enabled todisperse the crowd, and yet be in time to keep his appointment at theduel.
His appearance was hailed with another shout, for it was considered, ofcourse, that he had come to join in the attack upon Sir Francis Varney.He found assembled a much more considerable mob than he had imagined,and to his alarm he found many armed with all sorts of weapons ofoffence.
"Hurrah!" cried a great lumpy-looking fellow, who seemed half mad withthe prospect of a disturbance. "Hurrah! here's the doctor, he'll tell usall about it as we go along. Come on."
"For Heaven's sake," said Mr. Chillingworth, "stop; What are you aboutto do all of you?"
"Burn the vampyre--burn the vampyre!"
"Hold--hold! this is folly. Let me implore you all to return to yourhomes, or you will get into serious trouble on this subject."
This was a piece of advice not at all likely to be adopted; and when themob found that Mr. Chillingworth was not disposed to encourage andcountenance it in its violence, it gave another loud shout of defiance,and moved off through the long straggling streets of the town in adirection towards Sir Francis Varney's house.
It is true that what were called the authorities of the town had becomealarmed, and were stirring, but they found themselves in such afrightful minority, that it became out of the question for them tointerfere with any effect to stop the lawless proceedings of therioters, so that the infuriated populace had it all their own way, andin a straggling, disorderly-looking kind of procession they moved off,vowing vengeance as they went against Varney the vampyre.
Hopeless as Mr. Chillingworth thought it was to interfere with anydegree of effect in the proceedings of the mob, he still could notreconcile it to himself to be absent from a scene which he now feltcertain had been produced by his own imprudence, so he went on with thecrowd, endeavouring, as he did so, by every argument that could besuggested to him to induce them to abstain from the acts of violencethey contemplated. He had a hope, too, that when they reached SirFrancis Varney's, finding him not within, as probably would be the case,as by that time he would have started to meet Henry Bannerworth on theground, to fight the duel, he might induce the mob to return and foregotheir meditated violence.
And thus was it that, urged on by a multitude of persons, the unhappysurgeon was expiating, both in mind and person, the serious mistakes hehad committed in trusting a secret to his wife.
Let it not be supposed that we for one moment wish to lay down a generalprinciple as regards the confiding secrets to ladies, because from thebeginning of the world it has become notorious how well they keep
them,and with what admirable discretion, tact, and forethought this fairestportion of humanity conduct themselves.
We know how few Mrs. Chillingworths there are in the world, and have butto regret that our friend the doctor should, in his matrimonialadventure, have met with such a specimen.
Varney the Vampire; Or, the Feast of Blood Page 41