CHAPTER XXVI.
THE MEETING BY MOONLIGHT IN THE PARK.--THE TURRET WINDOW IN THEHALL.--THE LETTERS.
The old admiral showed such a strong disposition to take offence atCharles if he should presume, for a moment, to doubt the truth of thenarrative that was thus communicated to him, that the latter would notanger him by so doing, but confined his observations upon it to sayingthat he considered it was very wonderful, and very extraordinary, and soon, which very well satisfied the old man.
The day was now, however, getting far advanced, and Charles Hollandbegan to think of his engagement with the vampyre. He read and read theletter over and over again, but he could not come to a correctconclusion as to whether it intended to imply that he, Sir FrancisVarney, would wish to fight him at the hour and place mentioned, ormerely give him a meeting as a preliminary step.
He was rather, on the whole, inclined to think that some explanationwould be offered by Varney, but at all events he persevered in hisdetermination of going well armed, lest anything in the shape oftreachery should be intended.
As nothing of any importance occurred now in the interval of time tillnearly midnight, we will at once step to that time, and our readers willsuppose it to be a quarter to twelve o'clock at night, and young CharlesHolland on the point of leaving the house, to keep his appointment bythe pollard oak, with the mysterious Sir Francis Varney.
He placed his loaded pistols conveniently in his pocket, so that at amoment's notice he could lay hands on them, and then wrapping himself upin a travelling cloak he had brought with him to Bannerworth Hall, heprepared to leave his chamber.
The moon still shone, although now somewhat on the wane, and althoughthere were certainly many clouds in the sky they were but of a lightfleecy character, and very little interrupted the rays of light thatcame from the nearly full disc of the moon.
From his window he could not perceive the spot in the park where he wasto meet Varney, because the room in which he was occupied not asufficiently high place in the house to enable him to look over a beltof trees that stopped the view. From almost any of the upper windows thepollard oak could be seen.
It so happened now that the admiral had been placed in a roomimmediately above the one occupied by his nephew, and, as his mind wasfull of how he should manage with regard to arranging the preliminariesof the duel between Charles and Varney on the morrow, he found itdifficult to sleep; and after remaining in bed about twenty minutes, andfinding that each moment he was only getting more and more restless, headopted a course which he always did under such circumstances.
He rose and dressed himself again, intending to sit up for an hour andthen turn into bed and try a second time to get to sleep. But he had nomeans of getting a light, so he drew the heavy curtain from before thewindow, and let in as much of the moonlight as he could.
This window commanded a most beautiful and extensive view, for from itthe eye could carry completely over the tops of the tallest trees, sothat there was no interruption whatever to the prospect, which was asextensive as it was delightful.
Even the admiral, who never would confess to seeing much beauty inscenery where water formed not a large portion of it, could not resistopening his window and looking out, with a considerable degree ofadmiration, upon wood and dale, as they were illuminated by the moon'srays, softened, and rendered, if anything, more beautiful by the lightvapours, through which they had to struggle to make their way.
Charles Holland, in order to avoid the likelihood of meeting with anyone who would question him as to where he was going, determined uponleaving his room by the balcony, which, as we are aware, presented amplefacilities for his so doing.
He cast a glance at the portrait in the panel before he left theapartment, and then saying,--
"For you, dear Flora, for you I essay this meeting with the fearfuloriginal of that portrait," he immediately opened his window, andstepped out on to the balcony.
Young and active as was Charles Holland, to descend from that balconypresented to him no difficulty whatever, and he was, in a very fewmoments, safe in the garden of Bannerworth Hall.
He never thought, for a moment, to look up, or he would, in an instant,have seen the white head of his old uncle, as it was projected over thesill of the window of his chamber.
The drop of Charles from the balcony of his window, just made sufficientnoise to attract the admiral's attention, and, then, before he couldthink of making any alarm, he saw Charles walking hastily across a grassplot, which was sufficiently in the light of the moon to enable theadmiral at once to recognise him, and leave no sort of doubt as to hispositive identity.
Of course, upon discovering that it was Charles, the necessity formaking an alarm no longer existed, and, indeed, not knowing what it wasthat had induced him to leave his chamber, a moment's reflectionsuggested to him the propriety of not even calling to Charles, lest heshould defeat some discovery which he might be about to make.
"He has heard something, or seen something," thought the admiral, "andis gone to find out what it is. I only wish I was with him; but up hereI can do nothing at all, that's quite clear."
Charles, he saw, walked very rapidly, and like a man who has some fixeddestination which he wishes to reach as quickly as possible.
When he dived among the trees which skirted one side of the flowergardens, the admiral was more puzzled than ever, and he said--
"Now where on earth is he off to? He is fully dressed, and has his cloakabout him."
After a few moments' reflection he decided that, having seen somethingsuspicious, Charles must have got up, and dressed himself, to fathom it.
The moment this idea became fairly impressed upon his mind, he left hisbedroom, and descended to where one of the brothers he knew was sittingup, keeping watch during the night. It was Henry who was so on guard;and when the admiral came into the room, he uttered an expression ofsurprise to find him up, for it was now some time past twelve o'clock.
"I have come to tell you that Charles has left the house," said theadmiral.
"Left the house?"
"Yes; I saw him just now go across the garden."
"And you are sure it was he?"
"Quite sure. I saw him by the moonlight cross the green plot."
"Then you may depend he has seen or heard something, and gone alone tofind out what it is rather than give any alarm."
"That is just what I think."
"It must be so. I will follow him, if you can show me exactly which wayhe went."
"That I can easily. And in case I should have made any mistake, which itis not at all likely, we can go to his room first and see if it isempty."
"A good thought, certainly; that will at once put an end to all doubtupon the question."
They both immediately proceeded to Charles's room, and then theadmiral's accuracy of identification of his nephew was immediatelyproved by finding that Charles was not there, and that the window waswide open.
"You see I am right," said the admiral.
"You are," cried Henry; "but what have we here?"
"Where?"
"Here on the dressing-table. Here are no less than three letters, alllaid as it on purpose to catch the eye of the first one who might enterthe room."
"Indeed!"
"You perceive them?"
Henry held them to the light, and after a moment's inspection of them,he said, in a voice of much surprise,--
"Good God! what is the meaning of this?"
"The meaning of what?"
"The letters are addressed to parties in the house here. Do you notsee?"
"To whom?"
"One to Admiral Bell--"
"The deuce!"
"Another to me, and the third to my sister Flora. There is some newmystery here."
The admiral looked at the superscription of one of the letters which washanded to him in silent amazement. Then he cried,--
"Set down the light, and let us read them."
Henry did so, and then they simultaneously
opened the epistles whichwere severally addressed to them. There was a silence, as of the verygrave, for some moments, and then the old admiral staggered to a seat,as he exclaimed,--
"Am I dreaming--am I dreaming?"
"Is this possible?" said Henry, in a voice of deep emotion, as heallowed the note addressed to him to drop on to the floor.
"D--n it, what does yours say?" cried the old admiral, in a louder tone.
"Read it--what says yours?"
"Read it--I'm amazed."
The letters were exchanged, and read by each with the same breathlessattention they had bestowed upon their own; after which, they bothlooked at each other in silence, pictures of amazement, and the mostabsolute state of bewilderment.
Not to keep our readers in suspense, we at once transcribe each of theseletters.
The one to the admiral contained these words,--
"MY DEAR UNCLE,
"Of course you will perceive the prudence of keeping this letter to yourself, but the fact is, I have now made up my mind to leave Bannerworth Hall.
"Flora Bannerworth is not now the person she was when first I knew her and loved her. Such being the case, and she having altered, not I, she cannot accuse me of fickleness.
"I still love the Flora Bannerworth I first knew, but I cannot make my wife one who is subject to the visitations of a vampyre.
"I have remained here long enough now to satisfy myself that this vampyre business is no delusion. I am quite convinced that it is a positive fact, and that, after death, Flora will herself become one of the horrible existences known by that name.
"I will communicate to you from the first large city on the continent whither I am going, at which I make any stay, and in the meantime, make what excuses you like at Bannerworth Hall, which I advise you to leave as quickly as you can, and believe me to be, my dear uncle, yours truly,
"CHARLES HOLLAND."
Henry's letter was this:--
"MY DEAR SIR,
"If you calmly and dispassionately consider the painful and distressing circumstances in which your family are placed, I am sure that, far from blaming me for the step which this note will announce to you I have taken, you will be the first to give me credit for acting with an amount of prudence and foresight which was highly necessary under the circumstances.
"If the supposed visits of a vampyre to your sister Flora had turned out, as first I hoped they would, a delusion and been in any satisfactory manner explained away I should certainly have felt pride and pleasure in fulfilling my engagement to that young lady.
"You must, however, yourself feel that the amount of evidence in favour of a belief that an actual vampyre has visited Flora, enforces a conviction of its truth.
"I cannot, therefore, make her my wife under such very singular circumstances.
"Perhaps you may blame me for not taking at once advantage of the permission given me to forego my engagement when first I came to your house; but the fact is, I did not then in the least believe in the existence of the vampyre, but since a positive conviction of that most painful fact has now forced itself upon me, I beg to decline the honour of an alliance which I had at one time looked forward to with the most considerable satisfaction.
"I shall be on the continent as fast as conveyances can take me, therefore, should you entertain any romantic notions of calling me to an account for a course of proceeding I think perfectly and fully justifiable, you will not find me.
"Accept the assurances of my respect for yourself and pity for your sister, and believe me to be, my dear sir, your sincere friend,
"CHARLES HOLLAND."
These two letters might well make the admiral stare at HenryBannerworth, and Henry stare at him.
An occurrence so utterly and entirely unexpected by both of them, wasenough to make them doubt the evidence of their own senses. But therewere the letters, as a damning evidence of the outrageous fact, andCharles Holland was gone.
It was the admiral who first recovered from the stunning effect of theepistles, and he, with a gesture of perfect fury, exclaimed,--
"The scoundrel--the cold-blooded villain! I renounce him for ever! he isno nephew of mine; he is some d----d imposter! Nobody with a dash of myfamily blood in his veins would have acted so to save himself from athousand deaths."
"Who shall we trust now," said Henry, "when those whom we take to ourinmost hearts deceive us thus? This is the greatest shock I have yetreceived. If there be a pang greater than another, surely it is to befound in the faithlessness and heartlessness of one we loved andtrusted."
"He is a scoundrel!" roared the admiral. "D--n him, he'll die on adunghill, and that's too good a place for him. I cast him off--I'll findhim out, and old as I am, I'll fight him--I'll wring his neck, therascal; and, as for poor dear Miss Flora, God bless her! I'll--I'llmarry her myself, and make her an admiral.--I'll marry her myself. Oh,that I should be uncle to such a rascal!"
"Calm yourself," said Henry, "no one can blame you."
"Yes, you can; I had no right to be his uncle, and I was an old fool tolove him."
The old man sat down, and his voice became broken with emotion as hesaid,--
"Sir, I tell you I would have died willingly rather than this shouldhave happened. This will kill me now,--I shall die now of shame andgrief."
Tears gushed from the admiral's eyes and the sight of the noble oldman's emotion did much to calm the anger of Henry which, although hesaid but little, was boiling at his heart like a volcano.
"Admiral Bell," he said, "you have nothing to do with this business; wecan not blame you for the heartlessness of another. I have but onefavour to ask of you."
"What--what can I do?"
"Say no more about him at all."
"I can't help saying something about him. You ought to turn me out ofthe house."
"Heaven forbid! What for?"
"Because I'm his uncle--his d----d old fool of an uncle, that alwaysthought so much of him."
"Nay, my good sir, that was a fault on the right side, and cannotdiscredit you. I thought him the most perfect of human beings."
"Oh, if I could but have guessed this."
"It was impossible. Such duplicity never was equalled in this world--itwas impossible to foresee it."
"Hold--hold! did he give you fifty pounds?"
"What?"
"Did he give you fifty pounds?"
"Give me fifty pounds! Most decidedly not; what made you think of such athing?"
"Because to-day he borrowed fifty pounds of me, he said, to lend toyou."
"I never heard of the transaction until this moment."
"The villain!"
"No, doubt, sir, he wanted that amount to expedite his progress abroad."
"Well, now, damme, if an angel had come to me and said 'Hilloa! AdmiralBell, your nephew, Charles Holland, is a thundering rogue,' I shouldhave said 'You're a liar!'"
"This is fighting against facts, my dear sir. He is gone--mention him nomore; forget him, as I shall endeavour myself to do, and persuade mypoor sister to do."
"Poor girl! what can we say to her?"
"Nothing, but give her all the letters, and let her be at once satisfiedof the worthlessness of him she loved."
"The best way. Her woman's pride will then come to her help."
"I hope it will. She is of an honourable race, and I am sure she willnot condescend to shed a tear for such a man as Charles Holland hasproved himself to be."
"D--n him, I'll find him out, and make him fight you. He shall give yousatisfaction."
"No, no."
"No? But he shall."
"I cannot fight with him."
"You cannot?"
"Certainly not. He is too far beneath me now. I cannot fight onhonourable terms with one whom I despise as too dishonourable to contendwith.
I have nothing now but silence and contempt."
"I have though, for I'll break his neck when I see him, or he shallbreak mine. The villain! I'm ashamed to stay here, my young friend."
"How mistaken a view you take of this matter, my dear sir. As AdmiralBell, a gentleman, a brave officer, and a man of the purest and mostunblemished honour, you confer a distinction upon us by your presencehere."
The admiral wrung Henry by the hand, as he said,--
"To-morrow--wait till to-morrow; we will talk over this matter tomorrow--I cannot to-night, I have not patience; but to-morrow, my dearboy, we will have it all out. God bless you. Good night."