Varney the Vampire; Or, the Feast of Blood by Prest and Rymer (ereader iphone .txt) 📗
- Author: Prest and Rymer
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"I say such will happen, and I can kill either. My skill as well as my strength is superhuman."
"Mercy! mercy!" gasped Flora. "I will spare either or both on a condition."
"What fearful condition?"
"It is not a fearful one. Your terrors go far before the fact. All I wish, maiden, of you is to induce these imperious brothers of yours to sell or let the Hall to me."
"Is that all?"
"It is. I ask no more, and, in return, I promise you not only that I will not fight with them, but that you shall never see me again. Rest securely, maiden, you will be undisturbed by me."
"Oh, God! that were indeed an assurance worth the striving for," said Flora.
"It is one you may have. But—"
"Oh, I knew—my heart told me there was yet some fearful condition to come."
"You are wrong again. I only ask of you that you keep this meeting a secret."
"No, no, no—I cannot."
"Nay, what so easy?"
"I will not; I have no secrets from those I love."
"Indeed, you will find soon the expediency of a few at least; but if you will not, I cannot urge it longer. Do as your wayward woman's nature prompts you."
There was a slight, but a very slight, tone of aggravation in these words, and the manner in which they were uttered.
As he spoke, he moved from the door towards the window, which opened into a kitchen garden. Flora shrunk as far from him as possible, and for a few moments they regarded each other in silence.
"Young blood," said Varney, "mantles in your veins."
She shuddered with terror.
"Be mindful of the condition I have proposed to you. I covet Bannerworth Hall."
"I—I hear."
"And I must have it. I will have it, although my path to it be through a sea of blood. You understand me, maiden? Repeat what has passed between us or not, as you please. I say, beware of me, if you keep not the condition I have proposed."
"Heaven knows that this place is becoming daily more hateful to us all," said Flora.
"Indeed!"
"You well might know so much. It is no sacrifice to urge it now. I will urge my brother."
"Thanks—a thousand thanks. You may not live to regret even having made a friend of Varney—"
"The vampyre!" said Flora.
He advanced towards her a step, and she involuntarily uttered a scream of terror.
In an instant his hand clasped her waist with the power of an iron vice; she felt hit hot breath flushing on her cheek. Her senses reeled, and she found herself sinking. She gathered all her breath and all her energies into one piercing shriek, and then she fell to the floor. There was a sudden crash of broken glass, and then all was still.
CHAPTER XXI. THE CONFERENCE BETWEEN THE UNCLE AND NEPHEW, AND THE ALARM.Meanwhile Charles Holland had taken his uncle by the arm, and led him into a private room.
"Dear uncle," he said, "be seated, and I will explain everything without reserve."
"Seated!—nonsense! I'll walk about," said the admiral. "D—n me! I've no patience to be seated, and very seldom had or have. Go on now, you young scamp."
"Well—well; you abuse me, but I am quite sure, had you been in my situation, you would have acted precisely as I have done."
"No, I shouldn't."
"Well, but, uncle—"
"Don't think to come over me by calling me uncle. Hark you, Charles—from this moment I won't be your uncle any more."
"Very well, sir."
"It ain't very well. And how dare you, you buccaneer, call me sir, eh? I say, how dare you?"
"I will call you anything you like."
"But I won't be called anything I like. You might as well call me at once Morgan, the Pirate, for he was called anything he liked. Hilloa, sir! how dare you laugh, eh? I'll teach you to laugh at me. I wish I had you on board ship—that's all, you young rascal. I'd soon teach you to laugh at your superior officer, I would."
"Oh, uncle, I did not laugh at you."
"What did you laugh at, then?"
"At the joke."
"Joke. D—n me, there was no joke at all!"
"Oh, very good."
"And it ain't very good."
Charles knew very well that, this sort of humour, in which was the old admiral, would soon pass away, and then that he would listen to him comfortably enough; so he would not allow the least exhibition of petulance or mere impatience to escape himself, but contented himself by waiting until the ebullition of feeling fairly worked itself out.
"Well, well," at length said the old man, "you have dragged me here, into a very small and a very dull room, under pretence of having something to tell me, and I have heard nothing yet."
"Then I will now tell you," said Charles. "I fell in love—"
"Bah!"
"With Flora Bannerworth, abroad; she is not only the most beautiful of created beings—"
"Bah!"
"But her mind is of the highest order of intelligence, honour, candour, and all amiable feelings—"
"Bah!"
"Really, uncle, if you say 'Bah!' to everything, I cannot go on."
"And what the deuce difference, sir, does it make to you, whether I say 'Bah!' or not?"
"Well, I love her. She came to England, and, as I could not exist, but was getting ill, and should, no doubt, have died if I had not done so, I came to England."
"But d——e, I want to know about the mermaid."
"The vampyre, you mean, sir?"
"Well, well, the vampyre."
"Then, uncle, all I can tell you is, that it is supposed a vampyre came one night and inflicted a wound upon Flora's neck with his teeth, and that he is still endeavouring to renew his horrible existence from the young, pure blood that flows through her veins."
"The devil he is!"
"Yes. I am bewildered, I must confess, by the mass of circumstances that have combined to give the affair a horrible truthfulness. Poor Flora is much injured in health and spirits; and when I came home, she, at once, implored me to give her up, and think of her no more, for she could not think of allowing me to unite my fate with hers, under such circumstances."
"She did?"
"Such were her words, uncle. She implored me—she used that word, 'implore'—to fly from her, to leave her to her fate, to endeavour to find happiness with some one else."
"Well?"
"But I saw her heart was breaking."
"What o' that?"
"Much of that, uncle. I told her that when I deserted her in the hour of misfortune that I hoped Heaven would desert me. I told her that if her happiness was wrecked, to cling yet to me, and that with what power and what strength God had given me, I would stand between her and all ill."
"And what then?"
"She—she fell upon my breast and wept and blessed me. Could I desert her—could I say to her, 'My dear girl, when you were full of health and beauty, I loved you, but now that sadness is at your heart I leave you?' Could I tell her that, uncle, and yet call myself a man?"
"No!" roared the old admiral, in a voice that made the room echo again; "and I tell you what, if you had done so, d—n you, you puppy, I'd have braced you, and—and married the girl myself. I would, d——e, but I would."
"Dear uncle!"
"Don't dear me, sir. Talk of deserting a girl when the signal of distress, in the shape of a tear, is in her eye!"
"But I—"
"You are a wretch—a confounded lubberly boy—a swab—a d——d bad grampus."
"You mistake, uncle."
"No, I don't. God bless you, Charles, you shall have her—if a whole ship's crew of vampyres said no, you shall have her. Let me see her—just let me see her."
The admiral gave his lips a vigorous wipe with his sleeve, and Charles said hastily,—
"My dear uncle, you will recollect that Miss Bannerworth is quite a young lady."
"I suppose she is."
"Well, then, for God's sake, don't attempt to kiss her."
"Not kiss her! d——e, they like it. Not kiss her, because she's a young lady! D——e, do you think I'd kiss a corporal of marines?"
"No, uncle; but you know young ladies are very delicate."
"And ain't I delicate—shiver my timbers, ain't I
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