CHAPTER XXIV.
THE LETTER TO CHARLES.--THE QUARREL.--THE ADMIRAL'S NARRATIVE.--THEMIDNIGHT MEETING.
It was Charles Holland who now advanced hurriedly to meet the admiral.The young man's manner was anxious. He was evidently most intent uponknowing what answer could be sent by Sir Francis Varney to hischallenge.
"Uncle," he said, "tell me at once, will he meet me? You can talk ofparticulars afterwards, but now tell me at once if he will meet me?"
"Why, as to that," said the admiral, with a great deal of fidgettyhesitation, "you see, I can't exactly say."
"Not say!"
"No. He's a very odd fish. Don't you think he's a very odd fish, JackPringle'?"
"Ay, ay, sir."
"There, you hear, Charles, that Jack is of my opinion that your opponentis an odd fish."
"But, uncle, why trifle with my impatience thus? Have you seen SirFrancis Varney?"
"Seen him. Oh, yes."
"And what did he say?"
"Why, to tell the truth, my lad, I advise you not to fight with him atall."
"Uncle, is this like you? This advice from you, to compromise my honour,after sending a man a challenge?"
"D--n it all, Jack, I don't know how to get out of it," said theadmiral. "I tell you what it is, Charles, he wants to fight with swords;and what on earth is the use of your engaging with a fellow who has beenpractising at his weapon for more than a hundred years?"
"Well, uncle, if any one had told me that you would be terrified by thisSir Francis Varney into advising me not to fight, I should have had nohesitation whatever in saying such a thing was impossible."
"I terrified?"
"Why, you advise me not to meet this man, even after I have challengedhim."
"Jack," said the admiral, "I can't carry it on, you see. I never couldgo on with anything that was not as plain as an anchor, and quitestraightforward. I must just tell all that has occurred."
"Ay, ay, sir. The best way."
"You think so, Jack?"
"I know it is, sir, always axing pardon for having a opinion at all,excepting when it happens to be the same as yourn, sir."
"Hold your tongue, you libellous villain! Now, listen to me, Charles. Igot up a scheme of my own."
Charles gave a groan, for he had a very tolerable appreciation of hisuncle's amount of skill in getting up a scheme of any kind ordescription.
"Now here am I," continued the admiral, "an old hulk, and not fit foruse anymore. What's the use of me, I should like to know? Well, that'ssettled. But you are young and hearty, and have a long life before you.Why should you throw away your life upon a lubberly vampyre?"
"I begin to perceive now, uncle," said Charles, reproachfully, "why you,with such apparent readiness, agreed to this duel taking place."
"Well, I intended to fight the fellow myself, that's the long and shortof it, boy."
"How could you treat me so?"
"No nonsense, Charles. I tell you it was all in the family. I intendedto fight him myself. What was the odds whether I slipped my cable withhis assistance, or in the regular course a little after this? That's theway to argufy the subject; so, as I tell you, I made up my mind to fighthim myself."
Charles looked despairingly, but said,--
"What was the result?"
"Oh, the result! D--n me, I suppose that's to come. The vagabond won'tfight like a Christian. He says he's quite willing to fight anybody thatcalls him out, provided it's all regular."
"Well--well."
"And he, being the party challenged--for he says he never himselfchallenges anybody, as he is quite tired of it--must have his choice ofweapons."
"He is entitled to that; but it is generally understood now-a-days thatpistols are the weapons in use among gentlemen for such purposes."
"Ah, but he won't understand any such thing, I tell you. He will fightwith swords."
"I suppose he is, then, an adept at the use of the sword?"
"He says he is."
"No doubt--no doubt. I cannot blame a man for choosing, when he has theliberty of choice, that weapon in the use of which he most particularly,from practice, excels."
"Yes; but if he be one half the swordsman he has had time enough,according to all accounts, to be, what sort of chance have you withhim?"
"Do I hear you reasoning thus?"
"Yes, to be sure you do. I have turned wonderfully prudent, you see: soI mean to fight him myself, and mind, now, you have nothing whatever todo with it."
"An effort of prudence that, certainly."
"Well, didn't I say so?"
"Come--come, uncle, this won't do. I have challenged Sir Francis Varney,and I must meet him with any weapon he may, as the challenged party,choose to select. Besides, you are not, I dare say, aware that I am avery good fencer, and probably stand as fair a chance as Varney in acontest with swords."
"Indeed!"
"Yes, uncle. I could not be so long on the continent as I have beenwithout picking up a good knowledge of the sword, which is so popularall over Germany."
"Humph! but only consider, this d----d fellow is no less than a hundredand fifty years old."
"I care not."
"Yes, but I do."
"Uncle, uncle, I tell you I will fight with him; and if you do notarrange matters for me so that I can have the meeting with this man,which I have myself sought, and cannot, even if I wished, now recedefrom with honour, I must seek some other less scrupulous friend to doso."
"Give me an hour or two to think of it, Charles," said the admiral."Don't speak to any one else, but give me a little time. You shall haveno cause of complaint. Your honour cannot suffer in my hands."
"I will wait your leisure, uncle; but remember that such affairs asthese, when once broached, had always better be concluded with allconvenient dispatch."
"I know that, boy--I know that."
The admiral walked away, and Charles, who really felt much fretted atthe delay which had taken place, returned to the house.
He had not been there long, when a lad, who had been temporarily hiredduring the morning by Henry to answer the gate, brought him a note,saying,--
"A servant, sir, left this for you just now."
"For me?" said Charles, as he glanced at the direction. "This isstrange, for I have no acquaintance about here. Does any one wait?"
"No, sir."
The note was properly directed to him, therefore Charles Holland at onceopened it. A glance at the bottom of the page told him that it came fromhis enemy, Sir Francis Varney, and then he read it with much eagerness.It ran thus:--
"SIR,--Your uncle, as he stated himself to be, Admiral Bell, was the bearer to me, as I understood him this day, of a challenge from you. Owing to some unaccountable hallucination of intellect, he seemed to imagine that I intended to set myself up as a sort of animated target, for any one to shoot at who might have a fancy so to do.
"According to this eccentric view of the case, the admiral had the kindness to offer to fight me first, when, should he not have the good fortune to put me out of the world, you were to try your skill, doubtless.
"I need scarcely say that I object to these family arrangements. You have challenged me, and, fancying the offence sufficient, you defy me to mortal combat. If, therefore, I fight with any one at all, it must be with you.
"You will clearly understand me, sir, that I do not accuse you of being at all party to this freak of intellect of your uncle's. He, no doubt, alone conceived it, with a laudable desire on his part of serving you. If, however, to meet me, do so to-night, in the middle of the park surrounding your own friends estate.
"There is a pollard oak growing close to a small pool; you, no doubt, have noticed the spot often. Meet me there, if you please, and any satisfaction you like I will give you, at twelve o'clock this night.
"Come alone, or you will not see me. It shall be at your own option entirely, to conve
rt the meeting into a hostile one or not. You need send me no answer to this. If you are at the place I mention at the time I have named, well and good. If you an not, I can only, if I please, imagine that you shrink from a meeting with
"FRANCIS VARNEY."
Charles Holland read this letter twice over carefully, and then foldingit up, and placing it in his pocket, he said,--
"Yes, I will meet him; he may be assured that I will meet him. He shallfind that I do not shrink from Francis Varney In the name of honour,love, virtue, and Heaven, I will meet this man, and it shall go hardwith me but I will this night wring from him the secret of what hereally is. For the sake of her who is so dear to me--for her sake, Iwill meet this man, or monster, be he what he may."
It would have been far more prudent had Charles informed HenryBannerworth or George of his determination to meet the vampyre thatevening, but he did not do so. Somehow he fancied it would be somereproach against his courage if he did not go, and go alone, too, for hecould not help suspecting that, from the conduct of his uncle, SirFrancis Varney might have got up an opinion inimical to his courage.
With all the eager excitement of youth, there was nothing that arrayeditself to his mind in such melancholy and uncomfortable colours as animputation upon his courage.
"I will show this vampyre, if he be such," he said, "that I am notafraid to meet him, and alone, too, at his own hour--at midnight, evenwhen, if his preternatural powers be of more avail to him than at anyother time, he can attempt, if he dare, to use them."
Charles resolved upon going armed, and with the greatest care he loadedhis pistols, and placed them aside ready for action, when the timeshould come to set out to meet the vampyre at the spot in the park whichhad been particularly alluded to in his letter.
This spot was perfectly well known to Charles; indeed, no one could be asingle day at Bannerworth Hall without noticing it, so prominent anobject was that pollard oak, standing, as it did, alone, with thebeautiful green sward all around it. Near to it was the pool which hidbeen mentioned, which was, in reality, a fish-pond, and some littledistance off commenced the thick plantation, among the intricacies ofwhich Sir Francis Varney, or the vampyre, had been supposed todisappear, after the revivification of his body at the full of the moon.
This spot was in view of several of the windows of the house, so that ifthe night should happen to be a very light one, and any of theinhabitants of the Hall should happen to have the curiosity to look fromthose particular windows, no doubt the meeting between Charles Hollandand the vampyre would be seen.
This, however, was a contingency which was nothing to Charles, whateverit might be to Sir Francis Varney, and he scarcely at all considered itas worth consideration. He felt more happy and comfortable now thateverything seemed to be definitively arranged by which he could come tosome sort of explanation with that mysterious being who had soeffectually, as yet, succeeded in destroying his peace of mind and hisprospects of happiness.
"I will this night force him to declare himself," thought Charles. "Heshall tell me who and what he really is, and by some means I willendeavour to put an end to those frightful persecutions which Flora hassuffered."
This was a thought which considerably raised Charles's spirits, and whenhe sought Flora again, which he now did, she was surprised to see him somuch more easy and composed in his mind, which was sufficiently shown byhis manner, than he had been but so short a time before.
"Charles," she said, "what has happened to give such an impetus to yourspirits?"
"Nothing, dear Flora, nothing; but I have been endeavouring to throwfrom my mind all gloomy thoughts, and to convince myself that in thefuture you and I, dearest, may yet be very happy."
"Oh, Charles, if I could but think so."
"Endeavour, Flora, to think so. Remember how much our happiness isalways in our own power, Flora, and that, let fate do her worst, so longas we are true to each other, we have a recompense for every ill."
"Oh, indeed, Charles, that is a dear recompense."
"And it is well that no force of circumstances short of death itself candivide us."
"True, Charles, true, and I am more than ever now bound to look upon youwith a loving heart; for have you not clung to me generously undercircumstances which, if any at all could have justified you in rendingasunder every tie which bound us together, surely would have done somost fully."
"It is misfortune and distress that tries love," said Charles. "It isthus that the touchstone is applied to see if it be current gold indeed,or some base metal, which by a superficial glitter imitates it."
"And your love is indeed true gold."
"I am unworthy of one glance from those dear eyes if it were not."
"Oh, if we could but go from here I think then we might be happy. Astrong impression is upon my mind, and has been so for some time, thatthese persecutions to which I have been subjected are peculiar to thishouse."
"Think you so?"
"I do, indeed!"
"It may be so, Flora. You are aware that your brother has made up hismind that he will leave the Hall."
"Yes, yes."
"And that only in deference to an expressed wish of mine he put off thecarrying such a resolve into effect for a few days."
"He said so much."
"Do not, however, imagine, dearest Flora, that those few days will beidly spent."
"Nay, Charles, I could not imagine so."
"Believe me, I have some hopes that in that short space of time I shallbe able to accomplish yet something which shall have a material effectupon the present posture of affairs."
"Do not run into danger, Charles."
"I will not. Believe me, Flora, I have too much appreciation of thevalue of an existence which is blessed by your love, to encounter anyneedless risks."
"You say needless. Why do you not confide in me, and tell me if theobject you have in view to accomplish in the few days delay is adangerous one at all."
"Will you forgive me, Flora, if for once I keep a secret from you?"
"Then, Charles, along with the forgiveness I must conjure up a host ofapprehensions."
"Nay, why so?"
"You would tell me if there were no circumstances that you feared wouldfill me with alarm."
"Now, Flora, your fears and not your judgment condemn me. Surely youcannot think me so utterly heedless as to court danger for danger'ssake."
"No, not so--"
"You pause."
"And yet you have a sense of what you call honour, which, I fear, wouldlead you into much risk."
"I have a sense of honour; but not that foolish one which hangs far moreupon the opinions of others than my own. If I thought a course of honourlay before me, and all the world, in a mistaken judgment, were tocondemn it as wrong, I would follow it."
"You are right, Charles; you are right. Let me pray of you to becareful, and, at all events, to interpose no more delay to our leavingthis house than you shall feel convinced is absolutely necessary forsome object of real and permanent importance."
Charles promised Flora Bannerworth that for her sake, as well as hisown, he would be most specially careful of his safety; and then in suchendearing conversation as may be well supposed to be dictated by suchhearts as theirs another happy hour was passed away.
They pictured to themselves the scene where first they met, and with aworld of interest hanging on every word they uttered, they told eachother of the first delightful dawnings of that affection which hadsprung up between them, and which they fondly believed neither time norcircumstance would have the power to change or subvert.
In the meantime the old admiral was surprised that Charles was sopatient, and had not been to him to demand the result of hisdeliberation.
But he knew not on what rapid pinions time flies, when in the presenceof those whom we love. What was an actual hour, was but a fleetingminute to Charles Holland, as he sat with Flora's hand clasped in his,and looking at her sweet face.
At lengt
h a clock striking reminded him of his engagement with hisuncle, and he reluctantly rose.
"Dear Flora," he said, "I am going to sit up to watch to-night, so beunder no sort of apprehension."
"I will feel doubly safe," she said.
"I have now something to talk to my uncle about, and must leave you."
Flora smiled, and held out her hand to him. He pressed it to his heart.He knew not what impulse came over him then, but for the first time hekissed the cheek of the beautiful girl.
With a heightened colour she gently repulsed him. He took a longlingering look at her as he passed out of the room, and when the doorwas closed between them, the sensation he experienced was as if somesudden cloud had swept across the face of the sun, dimming to a vastextent its precious lustre.
A strange heaviness came across his spirits, which before had been sounaccountably raised. He felt as if the shadow of some coming evil wasresting on his soul--as if some momentous calamity was preparing forhim, which would almost be enough to drive him to madness, andirredeemable despair.
"What can this be," he exclaimed, "that thus oppresses me? What feelingis this that seems to tell me, I shall never again see FloraBannerworth?"
Unconsciously he uttered these words, which betrayed the nature of hisworst forebodings.
"Oh, this is weakness," he then added. "I must fight out against this;it is mere nervousness. I must not endure it, I will not suffer myselfthus to become the sport of imagination. Courage, courage, CharlesHolland. There are real evils enough, without your adding to them bythose of a disordered fancy. Courage, courage, courage."