CHAPTER LV.
THE RETURN OF THE MOB AND MILITARY TO THE TOWN.--THE MADNESS OF THEMOB.--THE GROCER'S REVENGE.
On the termination of the conflagration, or, rather, the fall of theroof, with the loss of grandeur in the spectacle, men's minds began tobe free from the excitement that chained them to the spot, watching theprogress of that element which has been truly described as a very goodservant, but a very bad master; and of the truth of this every one mustbe well satisfied.
There was now remaining little more than the livid glare of the hot andburning embers; and this did not extend far, for the walls were toostrongly built to fall in from their own weight; they were strong andstout, and intercepted the little light the ashes would have given out.
The mob now began to feel fatigued and chilly. It had been standing andwalking about many hours, and the approach of exhaustion could not beput off much longer, especially as there was no longer any greatexcitement to carry it off.
The officer, seeing that nothing was to be done, collected his mentogether, and they were soon seen in motion. He had been ordered to stopany tumult that he might have seen, and to save any property. But therewas nothing to do now; all the property that could have been saved wasnow destroyed, and the mob were beginning to disperse, and creep towardstheir own houses.
The order was then given for the men to take close order, and keeptogether, and the word to march was given, which the men obeyed withalacrity, for they had no good-will in stopping there the whole of thenight.
The return to the village of both the mob and the military was notwithout its vicissitudes; accidents of all kinds were rife amongst them;the military, however, taking the open paths, soon diminished thedistance, and that, too, with little or no accidents, save such as mighthave been expected from the state of the fields, after they had been somuch trodden down of late.
Not so the townspeople or the peasantry; for, by way of keeping up theirspirits, and amusing themselves on their way home, they commencedlarking, as they called it, which often meant the execution of practicaljokes, and these sometimes were of a serious nature.
The night was dark at that hour, especially so when there was a numberof persons traversing about, so that little or nothing could be seen.
The mistakes and blunders that were made were numerous. In one placethere were a number of people penetrating a path that led only to ahedge and deep ditch; indeed it was a brook very deep and muddy.
Here they came to a stop and endeavoured to ascertain its width, but thelittle reflected light they had was deceptive, and it did not appear sobroad as it was.
"Oh, I can jump it," exclaimed one.
"And so can I," said another. "I have done so before, and why should Inot do so now."
This was unanswerable, and as there were many present, at least a dozenwere eager to jump.
"If thee can do it, I know I can," said a brawny countryman; "so I'll doit at once.
"The sooner the better," shouted some one behind, "or you'll have noroom for a run, here's a lot of 'em coming up; push over as quickly asyou can."
Thus urged, the jumpers at once made a rush to the edge of the ditch,and many jumped, and many more, from the prevailing darkness, did notsee exactly where the ditch was, and taking one or two steps too many,found themselves up above the waist in muddy water.
Nor were those who jumped much better off, for nearly all jumped shortor fell backwards into the stream, and were dragged out in a terriblestate.
"Oh, lord! oh, lord!" exclaimed one poor fellow, dripping wet andshivering with cold, "I shall die! oh, the rheumatiz, there'll be apretty winter for me: I'm half dead."
"Hold your noise," said another, "and help me to get the mud out of myeye; I can't see."
"Never mind," added a third, "considering how you jump, I don't thinkyou want to see."
"This comes a hunting vampyres."
"Oh, it's all a judgment; who knows but he may be in the air: it isnothing to laugh at as I shouldn't be surprised if he were: only thinkhow precious pleasant."
"However pleasant it may be to you," remarked one, "it's profitable to agood many."
"How so?"
"Why, see the numbers, of things that will be spoiled, coats torn, hatscrushed, heads broken, and shoes burst. Oh, it's an ill-wind that blowsnobody any good."
"So it is, but you may benefit anybody you like, so you don't do it atmy expence."
In one part of a field where there were some stiles and gates, a bigcountryman caught a fat shopkeeper with the arms of the stile a terriblepoke in the stomach; while the breath was knocked out of the poor man'sstomach, and he was gasping with agony, the fellow set to laughing, andsaid to his companions, who were of the same class--
"I say, Jim, look at the grocer, he hasn't got any wind to spare, I'drun him for a wager, see how he gapes like a fish out of water."
The poor shopkeeper felt indeed like a fish out of water, and as heafterwards declared he felt just as if he had had a red hot clock weightthrust into the midst of his stomach and there left to cool.
However, the grocer would be revenged upon his tormentor, who had nowlost sight of him, but the fat man, after a time, recovering his wind,and the pain in his stomach becoming less intense, he gathered himselfup.
"My name ain't Jones," he muttered, "if I don't be one to his one forthat; I'll do something that shall make him remember what it is toinsult a respectable tradesman. I'll never forgive such an insult. It isdark, and that's why it is he has dared to do this."
Filled with dire thoughts and a spirit of revenge, he looked from sideto side to see with what he could effect his object, but could espynothing.
"It's shameful," he muttered; "what would I give for a little retort.I'd plaster his ugly countenance."
As he spoke, he placed his hands on some pales to rest himself, when hefound that they stuck to them, the pales had that day been newlypitched.
A bright idea now struck him.
"If I could only get a handful of this stuff," he thought, "I should beable to serve him out for serving me out. I will, cost what it may; I'mresolved upon that. I'll not have my wind knocked out, and my inside seton fire for nothing. No, no; I'll be revenged on him."
With this view he felt over the pales, and found that he could scrapeoff a little only, but not with his hands; indeed, it only plasteredthem; he, therefore, marched about for something to scrape it off with.
"Ah; I have a knife, a large pocket knife, that will do, that is thesort of thing I want."
He immediately commenced feeling for it, but had scarcely got his handinto his pocket when he found there would be a great difficulty ineither pushing it in further or withdrawing it altogether, for the pitchmade it difficult to do either, and his pocket stuck to his hands like aglove.
"D--n it," said the grocer, "who would have thought of that? here's apretty go, curse that fellow, he is the cause of all this; I'll berevenged upon him, if it's a year hence."
The enraged grocer drew his hand out, but was unable to effect hisobject in withdrawing the knife also; but he saw something shining, hestooped to pick it up, exclaiming as he did so, in a gratified tone ofvoice,
"Ah, here's something that will do better."
As he made a grasp at it, he found he had inserted his hand intosomething soft.
"God bless me! what now?"
He pulled his hand hastily away, and found that it stuck slightly, andthen he saw what it was.
"Ay, ay, the very thing. Surely it must have been placed here on purposeby the people."
The fact was, he had placed his hand into a pot of pitch that had beenleft by the people who had been at work at pitching the pales, but hadbeen attracted by the fire at Sir Francis Varney's, and to see whichthey had left their work, and the pitch was left on a smouldering peatfire, so that when Mr. Jones, the grocer, accidentally put his hand intoit he found it just warm.
When he made this discovery he dabbed his hand again into the pitch-pot,exclaiming,--
"In for a penny, in for a pound."
And he endeavoured to secure as large a handful of the slippery andsticky stuff as he could, and this done he set off to come up with thebig countryman who had done him so much indignity and made his stomachuncomfortable.
He soon came up with him, for the man had stopped rather behind, and waslarking, as it is called, with some men, to whom he was a companion.
He had slipped down a bank, and was partially sitting down on the softmud. In his bustle, the little grocer came down with a slide, close tothe big countryman.
"Ah--ah! my little grocer," said the countryman, holding out his hand tocatch him, and drawing him towards himself. "You will come and sit downby the side of your old friend."
As he spoke, he endeavoured to pull Mr. Jones down, too; but thatindividual only replied by fetching the countryman a swinging smackacross the face with the handful of pitch.
"There, take that; and now we are quits; we shall be old friends afterthis, eh? Are you satisfied? You'll remember me, I'll warrant."
As the grocer spoke, he rubbed his hands over the face of the fallenman, and then rushed from the spot with all the haste he could make.
The countryman sat a moment or two confounded, cursing, and swearing,and spluttering, vowing vengeance, believing that it was mud only thathad been plastered over his face; but when he put his hands up, andfound out what it was, he roared and bellowed like a town-bull.
He cried out to his companions that his eyes were pitched: but they onlylaughed at him, thinking he was having some foolish lark with them.
It was next day before he got home, for he wandered about all night: andit took him a week to wash the pitch off by means of grease; and everafterwards he recollected the pitching of his face; nor did he everforget the grocer.
Thus it was the whole party returned a long while after dark across thefields, with all the various accidents that were likely to befal such anassemblage of people.
The vampyre hunting cost many of them dear, for clothes were injured onall sides: hats lost, and shoes missing in a manner that put some of therioters to much inconvenience. Soon afterwards, the military retired totheir quarters; and the townspeople at length became tranquil andnothing more was heard or done that night.
Varney the Vampire; Or, the Feast of Blood Page 54