"I owe a debt to you I shall never be able to repay; but where there is a will, they say there is a way; and if the old saying be good for anything, I need not despair, though the way is by no means apparent at present."
"Time is the magician," said Flora, "whose wand changes all things--the young to the aged, and the aged to nothing."
"Certainly, that is true," said Varney, "and many such changes have I seen. My mind is stored with such events; but this is sadness, and I have cause to rejoice."
* * * *
The breakfast was passed off in pleasing conversation, and Varney found himself much at home with the Bannerworths, whose calm and even tenour was quite new to him.
He could not but admit the charms of such a life as that led by the Bannerworths; but what it must have been when they were supplied by ample means, with nothing to prey upon their minds, and no fearful mystery to hang on and weigh down their spirits, he could scarcely imagine.
Thy were amiable, accomplished; they were in the same mind at all times, and nothing seemed to ruffle them; and when night came, he could not but acknowledge to himself that he had never formed half the opinion of them they were deserving of.
Of course during that day he was compelled to lie close, so as not to be seen by any one, save the family. He sat in a small room, which was overlooked by no other in the neighbourhood, and he remained quiet, sometimes conversing, and sometimes reading, but at the same time ever attentive to the least sound that appeared at all of a character to indicate the approach of persons for any purpose whatever.
At supper time he spoke to Flora and to Charles Holland, saying,--
"There are certain matters connected with myself--I may say with you now--sure all that has happened will make it so--of which you would be glad to hear some thing."
"You mean upon the same subject upon which I had some conversation with you a day or two back?"
"Yes, the same. Allow me one week, and you shall know all. I will then relate to you that which you so much desire to know--one week, and all shall be told."
"Well," said Charles Holland, "this has not been exacted from you as the price of your safety, but you can choose your own time, of course; what you promise is most desired, for it will render those happy who now are much worse than they were before these occurrences took place."
"I am aware of all that; grant me but one week, and then you shall be made acquainted with all."
"I am satisfied, Sir Francis," said Flora; "but while here under our roof, we should never have asked you a question."
"Of this, Miss Bannerworth, the little I have seen of you assures me you would not do so; however, I am the more inclined to make it--I am under so deep an obligation to you all, that I can never repay it."
* * * * *
Sir Francis Varney retired to rest that night--his promise to the Bannerworths filled his mind with many reflections--the insecurity of his own position, and the frail tenure which he even held in the hands of those whom he had most injured.
This produced a series of reflections of a grave and melancholy nature, and he sat by his window, watching the progress of the clouds, as they appeared to chase each other over the face of the scene--now casting a shade over the earth, and then banishing the shadows, and throwing a gentle light over the earth's surface, which was again chased away, and shadows again fell upon the scene below.
How long he had sat there in melancholy musing he knew not; but suddenly he was aroused from his dreams by a voice that shook the skies, and caused him to start to his feet.
"Hurrah!--hurrah!--hurrah!" shouted the mob, which had silently collected around the cottage of the Bannerworths.
"Curses!" muttered Sir Francis, as he again sank in his chair, and struck his head with his hand. "I am hunted to death--they will not leave me until my body has graced a cross-road."
"Hurrah!--down with the vampyre--pull him out!"
Then came an instant knocking at the doors, and the people on the outside made so great a din, that it seemed as though they contemplated knocking the house down at once, without warning the inmates that they waited there.
There was a cessation for about a minute, when one of the family hastened to the door, and inquired what was wanted.
"Varney, the vampyre," was the reply.
"You must seek him elsewhere."
"We will search this place before we go further," replied a man.
"But he is not here."
"We have reason to believe otherwise. Open the door, and let us in--no one shall be hurt, or one single object in the house; but we must come in, and search for the vampyre."