CHAPTER LXXXIX.
TELLS WHAT BECAME OF THE SECOND VAMPYRE WHO SOUGHT VARNEY.
We left the Hungarian nobleman swimming down the stream; he swam slowly,and used but little exertion in doing so. He appeared to use his handsonly as a means of assistance.
The stream carried him onwards, and he aided himself so far that he keptthe middle of the stream, and floated along.
Where the stream was broad and shallow, it sometimes left him a momentor two, without being strong enough to carry him onwards; then he wouldpause, as if gaining strength, and finally he would, when he had rested,and the water came a little faster, and lifted him, make a desperateplunge, and swim forward, until he again came in deep water, and then hewent slowly along with the stream, as he supported himself.
It was strange thus to see a man going down slowly, and without anyeffort whatever, passing through shade and through moonlight--now lostin the shadow of the tall trees, and now emerging into that part of thestream which ran through meadows and cornfields, until the streamwidened, and then, at length, a ferry-house was to be seen in thedistance.
Then came the ferryman out of his hut, to look upon the beautifulmoonlight scene. It was cold, but pure, and brilliantly light. Thechaste moon was sailing through the heavens, and the stars diminished intheir lustre by the power of the luminous goddess of night.
There was a small cottage--true, it was somewhat larger than wasgenerally supposed by any casual observer who might look at it. Theplace was rambling, and built chiefly of wood; but in it lived theferryman, his wife, and family; among these was a young girl aboutseventeen years of age, but, at the same time, very beautiful.
They had been preparing their supper, and the ferryman himself walkedout to look at the river and the shadows of the tall trees that stood onthe hill opposite.
While thus employed, he heard a plashing in the water, and on turningtowards the quarter whence the sound proceeded for a few yards, he cameto the spot where he saw the stranger struggling in the stream.
"Good God!" he muttered to himself, as he saw the struggle continued;"good God! he will sink and drown."
As he spoke, he jumped into his boat and pushed it off, for the purposeof stopping the descent of the body down the stream, and in a moment ortwo it came near to him. He muttered,--
"Come, come--he tries to swim; life is not gone yet--he will do now, ifI can catch hold of him. Swimming with one's face under the streamdoesn't say much for his skill, though it may account for the fact thathe don't cry out."
As the drowning man neared, the ferryman held on by the boat-hook, andstooping down, he seized the drowning man by the hair of the head, andthen paused.
After a time, he lifted him up, and placed him across the edge of theboat, and then, with some struggling of his own, he was rolled over intothe boat.
"You are safe now," muttered the ferryman.
The stranger spoke not, but sat or leaned against the boat's head,sobbing and catching at his breath, and spitting off his stomach thewater it might be presumed he had swallowed.
The ferryman put back to the shore, when he paused, and secured hisboat, and then pulled the stranger out, saying,--
"Do you feel any better now?"
"Yes," said the stranger; "I feel I am living--thanks to you, my goodfriend; I owe you my life."
"You are welcome to that," replied the ferryman; "it costs me nothing;and, as for my little trouble, I should be sorry to think of that, whena fellow-being's life was in danger."
"You have behaved very well--very well, and I can do little more nowthan thank you, for I have been robbed of all I possessed about me atthe moment."
"Oh! you have been robbed?"
"Aye, truly, I have, and have been thrown into the water, and thus Ihave been nearly murdered."
"It is lucky you escaped from them without further injury," said theferryman; "but come in doors, you must be mad to stand here in thecold."
"Thank you; your hospitality is great, and, at this moment, of thegreatest importance to me."
"Such as we have," said the honest ferryman, "you shall be welcome to.Come in--come in."
He turned round and led the way to the house, which he entered,saying--as he opened the small door that led into the main apartment,where all the family were assembled, waiting for the almost only mealthey had had that day, for the ferryman had not the means, before thesun had set, of sending for food, and then it was a long way before itcould be found, and then it was late before they could get it,--
"Wife, we have a stranger to sleep with us to-night, and for whom wemust prepare a bed."
"A stranger!" echoed the wife--"a stranger, and we so poor!"
"Yes; one whose life I have saved, and who was nearly drowned. We cannotrefuse hospitality upon such an occasion as that, you know, wife."
The wife looked at the stranger as he entered the room, and sat down bythe fire.
"I am sorry," he said, "to intrude upon you; but I will make you amendsfor the interruption and inconvenience I may cause you; but it is toolate to apply elsewhere, and yet I am doubtful, if there were, whether Icould go any further."
"No, no," said the ferryman; "I am sure a man who has been beaten androbbed, and thrown into a rapid and, in some parts, deep stream, is notfit to travel at this time of night."
"You are lonely about here," said the stranger, as he shivered by thefire.
"Yes, rather; but we are used to it."
"You have a family, too; that must help to lighten the hours away, andhelp you over the long evenings."
"So you may think, stranger, and, at times, so it is; but when food runsshort, it is a long while to daylight, before any more money can be had.To be sure, we have fish in the river, and we have what we can grow inthe garden; but these are not all the wants that we feel, and thoseothers are sometimes pinching. However, we are thankful for what wehave, and complain but little when we can get no more; but sometimes wedo repine--though I cannot say we ought--but I am merely relating thefact, whether it be right or wrong."
"Exactly. How old is your daughter?"
"She is seventeen come Allhallow's eve."
"That is not far hence," said the stranger. "I hope I may be in thispart of the country--and I think I shall--I will on that eve pay you avisit; not one on which I shall be a burden to you, but one more usefulto you, and more consonant to my character."
"The future will tell us all about that," said the ferryman; "at presentwe will see what we can do, without complaining, or taxing anybody."
The stranger and the ferryman sat conversing for some time before thefire, and then the latter pointed out to him which was his bed--one madeup near the fire, for the sake of its warmth; and then the ferrymanretired to the next room, a place which was merely divided by animperfect partition.
However, they all fell soundly asleep. The hours on that day had beenlonger than usual; there was not that buoyancy of spirit; when theyretired, they fell off into a heavy, deep slumber.
From this they were suddenly aroused by loud cries and piercing screamsfrom one of the family.
So loud and shrill were the cries, that they all started up, terrifiedand bewildered beyond measure, unable to apply their faculties to anyone object.
"Help--help, father!--help!" shrieked the voice of the young girl whomwe have before noticed.
The ferryman jumped up, and rushed to the spot where his daughter lay.
"Fanny," he said--"Fanny, what ails thee--what ails thee? Tell me, mydear child."
"Oh!" she exclaimed, almost choked--"oh, father! are we all alone? I amterrified."
"What ails thee--what ails thee? Tell me what caused you to scream outin such a manner?"
"I--I--that is I, father, thought--but no, I am sure it was reality.Where is the stranger?"
"A light--a light!" shouted the fisherman.
In another moment a light was brought him, and he discovered thestranger reclining in his bed, but awake, and looking around him, as ifin the utmost a
mazement.
"What has happened?" he said--"what has happened?"
"That is more than I know as yet," the man replied. "Come, Fanny," headded, "tell me what it is you fear. What caused you to scream out inthat dreadful manner?"
"Oh, father--the vampyre!"
"Great God! what do you mean, Fanny, by that?"
"I hardly know, father. I was fast asleep, when I thought I feltsomething at my throat; but being very sound asleep, I did notimmediately awake. Presently I felt the sharp pang of teeth being driveninto the flesh of my neck--I awoke, and found the vampyre at his repast.Oh, God! oh, God! what shall I do?"
"Stay, my child, let us examine the wound," said the fisherman, and heheld the candle to the spot where the vampyre's teeth had been applied.There, sure enough, were teeth marks, such as a human being's would makewere they applied, but no blood had been drawn therefrom.
"Come, come, Fanny; so far, by divine Providence, you are not injured;another moment, and the mischief would have been done entire andcomplete, and you would have been his victim."
Then turning to the stranger, he said,--
"You have had some hand in this. No human being but you could come intothis place. The cottage door is secured. You must be the vampyre."
"I!"
"Yes; who else could?"
"I!--As Heaven's my judge--but there, it's useless to speak of it; Ihave not been out of my bed. In this place, dark as it is, and less usedto darkness than you, I could not even find my way about.--It isimpossible."
"Get out of your bed, and let me feel," said the ferryman,peremptorily--"get out, and I will soon tell."
The stranger arose, and began to dress himself, and the ferrymanimmediately felt the bed on which he had been lying; but it was icecold--so cold that he started upon his legs in an instant, exclaimingwith vehemence,--
"It is you, vile wretch! that has attempted to steal into the cottage ofthe poor man, and then to rob him of his only child, and that child ofher heart's blood, base ingrate!"
"My friend, you are wrong, entirely wrong. I am not the creature youbelieve me. I have slept, and slept soundly, and awoke not until yourdaughter screamed."
"Scoundrel!--liar!--base wretch! you shall not remain alive to injurethose who have but one life to lose."
As he spoke, the ferryman made a desperate rush at the vampyre, andseized him by the throat, and a violent struggle ensued, in which thesuperior strength of the ferryman prevailed, and he brought hisantagonist to the earth, at the same time bestowing upon him somedesperate blows.
"Thou shall go to the same element from which I took thee," said theferryman, "and there swim or sink as thou wilt until some one shall dragthee ashore, and when they do, may they have a better return than I."
As he spoke, he dragged along the stranger by main force until they cameto the bank of the river, and then pausing, to observe the deepest part,he said,--
"Here, then, you shall go."
The vampyre struggled, and endeavoured to speak, but he could not; thegrasp at his throat prevented all attempts at speech; and then, with asudden exertion of his strength, the ferryman lifted the stranger up,and heaved him some distance into the river.
Then in deep water sank the body.
The ferryman watched for some moments, and farther down the stream hesaw the body again rise upon the current and struggling slightly, as forlife--now whirled around and around, and then carried forward with theutmost velocity.
This continued as far as the moonlight enabled the ferryman to see, andthen, with a slow step and clouded brow, he returned to his cottage,which he entered, and closed the door.
Varney the Vampire; Or, the Feast of Blood Page 88