"Yes, yes."
"Well, that has arisen from a spasmodic contraction of the muscles, in consequence of his having been hanged. He will never lose it, and it has not a little contributed to give him the horrible look he has, and to invest him with some of the seeming outward attributes of the vampyre."
"And that man who is now in the hall with him, doctor," said Henry, "is the very hangman who executed him?"
"The same. He tells me that after I left, he paid attention to the restored man, and completed what I had nearly done. He kept him in his house for a time, and then made a bargain with him, for a large sum of money per annum, all of which he has regularly been paid, although he tells me he has no more idea where Varney gets it, than the man in the moon."
"It is very strange; but, hark! do you not hear the sound of voices in angry altercation?"
"Yes, yes, they have met. Let us approach the windows now. We may chance to hear something of what they say to each other."
CHAPTER LXXVIII.
THE ALTERCATION BETWEEN VARNEY AND THE EXECUTIONER IN THE HALL.--THE MUTUAL AGREEMENT.
[Illustration]
There was certainly a loud wrangling in the Hall, just as the doctor finished his most remarkable revelation concerning Sir Francis Varney, a revelation which by no means attacked the fact of his being a vampyre or not; but rather on the contrary, had a tendency to confirm any opinion that might arise from the circumstance of his being restored to life after his execution, favourable to that belief.
They all three now carefully approached the windows of the Hall, to listen to what was going on, and after a few moments they distinctly heard the voice of the hangman, saying in loud and rather angry accents,--
"I do not deny but that you have kept your word with me--our bargain has been, as you say, a profitable one: but, still I cannot see why that circumstance should give you any sort of control over my actions."
"But what do you here?" said Varney, impatiently.
"What do you?" cried the other.
"Nay, to ask another question, is not to answer mine. I tell you that I have special and most important business in this house; you can have no motive but curiosity."
"Can I not, indeed? What, too, if I have serious and important business here?"
"Impossible."
"Well, I may as easily use such a term as regards what you call important business, but here I shall remain."
"Here you shall not remain."
"And will you make the somewhat hazardous attempt to force me to leave?"
"Yes, much as I dislike lifting my hand against you, I must do so; I tell you that I must be alone in this house. I have most special reasons--reasons which concern my continued existence.
"Your continued existence you talk of.--Tell me, now, how is it that you have acquired so frightful a reputation in this neighbourhood? Go where I will, the theme of conversation is Varney, the vampyre! and it is implicitly believed that you are one of those dreadful characters that feed upon the life-blood of others, only now and then revisiting the tomb to which you ought long since to have gone in peace."
"Indeed!"
"Yes; what, in the name of all that's inexplicable, has induced you to enact such a character?"
"Enact it! you say. Can you, then, from all you have heard of me, and from all you know of me, not conceive it possible that I am not enacting any such character? Why may it not be real? Look at me. Do I look like one of the inhabitants of the earth?"
"In sooth, you do not."
"And yet I am, as you see, upon it. Do not, with an affected philosophy, doubt all that may happen to be in any degree repugnant to your usual experiences."
"I am not one disposed to do so; nor am I prepared to deny that such dreadful beings may exist as vampyres. However, whether or not you belong to so frightful a class of creatures, I do not intend to leave here; but, I will make an agreement with you."
Varney was silent; and after a few moments' pause, the other exclaimed,--
"There are people, even now, watching the place, and no doubt you have been seen coming into it."
"No, no, I was satisfied no one was here but you."
"Then you are wrong. A Doctor Chillingworth, of whom you know something, is here; and him, you have said, you would do no harm to, even to save your life."
"I do know him. You told me that it was to him that I was mainly indebted for my mere existence; and although I do not consider human life to be a great boon, I cannot bring myself to raise my hand against the man who, whatever might have been the motives for the deed, at all events, did snatch me from the grave."