"Come to-morrow, then."
"That will not do," said the voice; "open, or we force our way in without more notice."
At the same a tremendous blow was bestowed upon the door, and then much force was used to thrust it in. A consultation was suddenly held among the inmates, as to what was to be done, but no one could advise, and each was well aware of the utter impossibility of keeping the mob out.
"I do not see what is to become of me," said Sir Francis Varney, suddenly appearing before them. "You must let them in; there is no chance of keeping them off, neither can you conceal me. You will have no place, save one, that will be sacred from their profanation."
"And which is that?"
"Flora's own room."
All started at the thought that Flora's chamber could in any way be profaned by any such presence as Sir Francis Varney's.
However, the doors below were suddenly burst open, amid loud cries from the populace, who rushed in in great numbers, and began to search the lower rooms, immediately.
"All is lost!" said Sir Francis Varney, as he dashed away and rushed to the chamber of Flora, who, alarmed at the sounds that were now filling the house, stood listening to them.
"Miss Bannerworth--" began Varney.
"Sir Francis!"
"Yes, it is indeed I, Miss Bannerworth; hear me, for one moment."
"What is the matter?"
"I am again in peril--in more imminent peril than before; my life is not worth a minute's purchase, unless you save me. You, and you alone, can now save me. Oh! Miss Bannerworth, if ever pity touched your heart, save me from those only whom I now fear. I could meet death in any shape but that in which they will inflict it upon me. Hear their execrations below!"
"Death to the vampyre! death to Varney! burn him! run a stake through his body!"
[Illustration]
"What can I do, Sir Francis?"
"Admit me to your chamber."
"Sir Francis, are you aware of what you are saying?"
"I am well. It is a request which you would justly scorn to reply to, but now my life--recollect you have saved me once--my life,--do not now throw away the boon you have so kindly bestowed. Save me, Miss Bannerworth."
"It is not possible. I--"
"Nay, Miss Bannerworth, do you imagine this is a time for ceremony, or the observances of polished life! On my honour, you run no risk of censure."
"Where is Varney? Where is the vampyre? He ain't far off."
"Hear--hear them, Miss Bannerworth. They are now at the foot of the stairs. Not a moment to lose. One minute more, and I am in the hands of a crew that has no mercy."
"Hurrah! upstairs! He's not below. Upstairs, neighbours, we shall have him yet!"
These words sounded on the stairs: half-a-dozen more steps, and Varney would be seen. It was a miracle he was not heard begging for his life.
Varney cast a look of despair at the stairhead and felt for his sword, but it was not there, he had lost it. He struck his head with his clenched hand, and was about to rush upon his foes, when he heard the lock turn; he looked, and saw the door opened gently, and Flora stood there; he passed in, and sank cowering into a chair, at the other end of the room, behind some curtains.
The door was scarcely shut ere some tried to force it, and then a loud knocking came at the door.
"Open! open! we want Varney, the vampyre. Open! or we will burst it open."
Flora did open it, but stood resolutely in the opening, and held up her hand to impose silence.
"Are you men, that you can come thus to force yourselves upon the privacy of a female? Is there nothing in the town or house, that you must intrude in numbers into a private apartment? Is no place sacred from you?"
"But, ma'am--miss--we only want Varney, the vampyre."
"And can you find him nowhere but in a female's bedroom? Shame on you! shame on you! Have you no sisters, wives, or mothers, that you act thus?"
"He's not there, you may be sure of that, Jack," said a gruff voice. "Let the lady be in quiet; she's had quite enough trouble with him to sicken her of a vampyre. You may be sure that's the last place to find him in."
With this they all turned away, and Flora shut the door and locked it upon them, and Varney was safe.
"You have saved me," said Varney.
"Hush!" said Flora. "Speak not; there maybe some one listening."
Sir Francis Varney stood in the attitude of one listening most anxiously to catch some sounds; the moon fell across his face, and gave it a ghastly hue, that, added to his natural paleness and wounds, gave him an almost unearthly aspect.