Penny Dreadful Multipack Vol. 1 (Illustrated. Annotated. 'Wagner The Wehr-Wolf,' 'Varney The Vampire,' 'The Mysteries of London Vol. 1' + Bonus Features) (Penny Dreadful Multipacks) (105 page)

BOOK: Penny Dreadful Multipack Vol. 1 (Illustrated. Annotated. 'Wagner The Wehr-Wolf,' 'Varney The Vampire,' 'The Mysteries of London Vol. 1' + Bonus Features) (Penny Dreadful Multipacks)
13.62Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
CHAPTER XXXVI

THE CONSULTATION.—THE DUEL AND ITS RESULTS.

 

 

Independent
of this interview which Flora had had with the much dreaded Sir Francis Varney,
the circumstances in which she and all who were dear to her, happened at that
moment to be placed, certainly required an amount of consideration, which could
not be too soon bestowed.

By a
combination of disagreeables, everything that could possibly occur to disturb
the peace of the family seemed to have taken place at once; like Macbeth's,
their troubles had truly come in battalions, and now that the serenity of their
domestic position was destroyed, minor evils and annoyances which that very
serenity had enabled them to hold at arm's-length became gigantic, and added
much to their distress.

The
small income, which, when all was happiness, health and peace, was made to
constitute a comfortable household, was now totally inadequate to do so—the
power to economise and to make the most of a little, had flown along with that
contentedness of spirit which the harmony of circumstances alone could produce.

It
was not to be supposed that poor Mrs. Bannerworth could now, as she had
formerly done, when her mind was free from anxiety, attend to those domestic
matters which make up the comforts of a family—distracted at the situation of
her daughter, and bewildered by the rapid succession of troublesome events
which so short a period of time had given birth to, she fell into an inert
state of mind as different as anything could possibly be, from her former
active existence.

It
has likewise been seen how the very domestics fled from Bannerworth Hall in
dismay, rather than remain beneath the same roof with a family believed to be
subject to the visitations of so awful a being as a vampyre.

Among
the class who occupy positions of servitude, certainly there might have been
found some, who, with feelings and understandings above such considerations,
would have clung sympathetically to that family in distress, which they had
known under a happier aspect; but it had not been the good fortune of the
Bannerworths to have such as these about them; hence selfishness had its way,
and they were deserted. It was not likely, then, that strangers would willingly
accept service in a family so situated, without some powerful impulse in the
shape of a higher pecuniary consideration, as was completely out of the power
of the Bannerworths to offer.

Thus
was it, then, that most cruelly, at the very time that they had most need of
assistance and of sympathy, this unfortunate family almost became isolated from
their kind; and, apart from every other consideration, it would have been
almost impossible for them to continue inhabitants of the Hall, with anything
like comfort, or advantage.

And
then, although the disappearance of Charles Holland no longer awakened those
feelings of indignation at his supposed perfidy which were first produced by
that event; still, view it in which way they might, it was a severe blow of
fate, and after it, they one and all found themselves still less able to
contend against the sea of troubles that surrounded them.

The
reader, too, will not have failed to remark that there was about the whole of
the family that pride of independence which induced them to shrink from living
upon extraneous aid; and hence, although they felt and felt truly, that when
Admiral Bell, in his frank manner, offered them pecuniary assistance, that it
was no idle compliment, yet with a sensitiveness such as they might well be
expected to feel, they held back, and asked each other what prospect there was
of emerging from such a state of things, and if it were justifiable to commence
a life of dependence, the end of which was not evident or tangible.

Notwithstanding,
too, the noble confidence of Flora in her lover, and notwithstanding that
confidence had been echoed by her brothers, there would at times obtrude into
the minds of the latter, a feeling of the possibility, that after all they
might be mistaken; and Charles Holland might, from some sudden impulse,
fancying his future happiness was all at stake, have withdrawn himself from the
Hall, and really written the letters attributed to him.

We
say this only obtruded itself occasionally, for all their real feelings and
aspirations were the other way, although Mr. Marchdale, they could perceive,
had his doubts, and they could not but confess that he was more likely to view
the matter calmly and dispassionately than they.

In
fact, the very hesitation with which he spoke upon the subject, convinced them
of his doubt; for they attributed that hesitation to a fear of giving them
pain, or of wounding the prejudices of Admiral Bell, with whom he had already
had words so nearly approaching to a quarrel.

Henry's
visit to Mr. Chillingworth was not likely to be productive of any results
beyond those of a conjectural character. All that that gentleman could do was
to express a willingness to be directed by them in any way, rather than suggest
any course of conduct himself upon circumstances which he could not be expected
to judge of as they who were on the spot, and had witnessed their actual
occurrence.

And
now we will suppose that the reader is enabled with us to look into one of the
principal rooms of Bannerworth Hall. It is evening, and some candles are
shedding a sickly light on the ample proportions of the once handsome
apartment. At solemn consultation the whole of the family are assembled. As
well as the admiral, Mr. Chillingworth, and Marchdale, Jack Pringle, too,
walked in, by the sufferance of his master, as if he considered he had a
perfect right to do so.

The
occasion of the meeting had been a communication which Flora had made
concerning her most singular and deeply interesting interview with the vampyre.
The details of this interview had produced a deep effect upon the whole of the
family. Flora was there, and she looked better, calmer, and more collected than
she had done for some days past.

No
doubt the interview she had had with Varney in the summer-house in the garden
had dispelled a host of imaginary terrors with which she had surrounded him,
although it had confirmed her fully that he and he only was the dreadful being
who had caused her so much misery.

That
interview had tended to show her that about him there was yet something human,
and that there was not a danger of her being hunted down from place to place by
so horrible an existence.

Such
a feeling as this was, of course, a source of deep consolation; and with a
firmer voice, and more of her old spirit of cheerfulness about her than she had
lately exhibited, she again detailed the particulars of the interview to all
who had assembled, concluding by saying,—

"And
this has given me hope of happier days. If it be a delusion, it is a happy one;
and now that but a frightful veil of mystery still hangs over the fate of
Charles Holland, I how gladly would I bid adieu to this place, and all that has
made it terrible. I could almost pity Sir Francis Varney, rather than condemn
him."

"That
may be true," said Henry, "to a certain extent, sister; but we never
can forget the amount of misery he has brought upon us. It is no slight thing
to be forced from our old and much-loved home, even if such proceeding does
succeed in freeing us from his persecutions."

"But,
my young friend," said Marchdale, "you must recollect, that through
life it is continually the lot of humanity to be endeavouring to fly from great
evils to those which do not present themselves to the mind in so bad an aspect.
It is something, surely, to alleviate affliction, if we cannot entirely remove
it."

"That
is true," said Mr. Chillingworth, "to a considerable extent, but then
it takes too much for granted to please me."

"How
so, sir?"

"Why,
certainly, to remove from Bannerworth Hall is a much less evil than to remain
at Bannerworth Hall, and be haunted by a vampyre; but then that proposition
takes for granted that vampyre business, which I will never grant. I repeat,
again and again, it is contrary to all experience, to philosophy, and to all
the laws of ordinary nature."

"Facts
are stubborn things," said Marchdale.

"Apparently,"
remarked Mr. Chillingworth.

"Well,
sir; and here we have the fact of a vampyre."

"The
presumed fact. One swallow don't make a summer, Mr. Marchdale."

"This
is waste of time," said Henry—"of course, the amount of evidence that
will suffice to bring conviction to one man's mind will fail in doing so to
another. The question is, what are we to do?"

All
eyes were turned upon Flora, as if this question was more particularly addressed
to her, and it behoved her, above all others, to answer it. She did so; and in
a firm, clear voice, she said,—

"I
will discover the fate of Charles Holland, and then leave the Hall."

"The
fate of Charles Holland!" said Marchdale. "Why, really, unless that
young gentleman chooses to be communicative himself upon so interesting a
subject, we may be a long while discovering his fate. I know that it is not a
romantic view to take of the question, to suppose simply that he wrote the
three letters found upon his dressing-table, and then decamped; but to my mind,
it savours most wonderfully of matter-of-fact. I now speak more freely than I
have otherwise done, for I am now upon the eve of my departure. I have no wish
to remain here, and breed dissension in any family, or to run a tilt against
anybody's prejudices." Here he looked at Admiral Bell. "I leave this
house to-night."

"You're
a d——d lubberly thief," said the admiral; "the sooner you leave it
the better. Why, you bad-looking son of a gun, what do you mean? I thought we'd
had enough of that."

"I
fully expected this abuse," said Marchdale.

"Did
you expect that?" said the admiral, as he snatched up an inkstand, and
threw at Marchdale, hitting him a hard knock on the chin, and bespattering its
contents on his breast. "Now I'll give you satisfaction, you lubber. D—me,
if you ain't a second Jones, and enough to sink the ship. Shiver my timbers if
I sha'n't say something strong presently."

"I
really," said Henry, "must protest, Admiral Bell, against this
conduct."

"Protest
and be d——d."

"Mr.
Marchdale may be right, sir, or he may be wrong, it's a matter of
opinion."

"Oh,
never mind," said Marchdale; "I look upon this old nautical ruffian
as something between a fool and a madman. If he were a younger man I should chastise
him upon the spot; but as it is I live in hopes yet of getting him into some
comfortable lunatic asylum."

"Me
into an asylum!" shouted the admiral. "Jack, did you hear that?"

"Ay,
ay, sir."

"Farewell
all of you," said Marchdale; "my best wishes be with this family. I
cannot remain under this roof to be so insulted."

"A
good riddance," cried the admiral. "I'd rather sail round the world
with a shipload of vampyres than with such a humbugging son of a gun as you
are. D——e, you're worse than a lawyer."

"Nay,
nay," cried they, "Mr. Marchdale, stay."

"Stay,
stay," cried George, and Mrs. Bannerworth, likewise, said stay; but at the
moment Flora stepped forward, and in a clear voice she said,—

"No,
let him go, he doubts Charles Holland; let all go who doubt Charles Holland.
Mr. Marchdale, Heaven forgive you this injustice you are doing. We may never
meet again. Farewell, sir!"

These
words were spoken in so decided a tone, that no one contradicted them.
Marchdale cast a strange kind of look round upon the family circle, and in
another instant he was gone.

"Huzza!"
shouted Jack Pringle; "that's one good job."

Henry
looked rather resentful, which the admiral could not but observe, and so, less
with the devil-may-care manner in which he usually spoke, the old man addressed
him.

"Hark
ye, Mr. Henry Bannerworth, you ain't best pleased with me, and in that case I
don't know that I shall stay to trouble you any longer, as for your friend who
has left you, sooner or later you'll find him out—I tell you there's no good in
that fellow. Do you think I've been cruizing about for a matter of sixty years,
and don't know an honest man when I see him. But never mind, I'm going on a
voyage of discovery for my nephew, and you can do as you like."

"Heaven
only knows, Admiral Bell," said Henry, "who is right and who is
wrong. I do much regret that you have quarrelled with Mr. Marchdale; but what
is done can't be undone."

"Do
not leave us," said Flora; "let me beg of you, Admiral Bell, not to
leave us; for my sake remain here, for to you I can speak freely and with
confidence, of Charles, when probably I can do so to no one else. You knew him
well and have a confidence in him, which no one else can aspire to. I pray you,
therefore, to stay with us."

"Only
on one condition," said the admiral.

"Name
it—name it!

"You
think of letting the Hall?"

"Yes,
yes."

"Let
me have it, then, and let me pay a few years in advance. If you don't, I'm d——d
if I stay another night in the place. You must give me immediate possession,
too, and stay here as my guests until you suit yourselves elsewhere. Those are
my terms and conditions. Say yes, and all's right; say no, and I'm off like a
round shot from a carronade. D——me, that's the thing, Jack, isn't it?"

Other books

Some of Tim's Stories by S. E. Hinton
Breakwater by Carla Neggers
Reckless by Ruth Wind
Point of No Return by Susan May Warren
Fly-Fishing the 41st by James Prosek
A House in the Sunflowers by Ruth Silvestre
The Forever Stone by Repp, Gloria
Blood Dark by Lindsay J. Pryor
Unleashed Temptation by Savannah Stuart