Varney the Vampire 2(188)

 

This at once aroused him, and he made an instant and a vigorous defence; but he was compelled to let go his hold of the picture, and turn to resist the infuriated attack that was now commenced upon himself.

 

For some moments it was doubtful who would be the victor; but the wind and strength of the doctor were not enough to resist the powerful adversary against whom he had to contend, and the heavy blows that were showered down upon him.

 

At first he was enabled to bear up against this attack; and then he returned many of the blows with interest; but the stunning effect of the blows he received himself, was such that he could not help himself, and felt his senses gradually failing, his strength becoming less and less.

 

In a short time, he received such a blow, that he was laid senseless on the earth in an instant.

 

How long he remained thus he could not say; but it could not have been long, for all around him seemed just as it was before he was attacked.

 

The moon had scarcely moved, and the shadows, such as they were, were falling in the same direction as before.

 

"I have not been long here," he muttered, after a few moments' reflection; "but--but--"

 

He stopped short; for, on looking around him, he saw the object of his solicitude was gone. The picture was nowhere to be seen. It had been carried off the instant he had been vanquished.

 

"Gone!" he said, in a low, disconsolate tone; "and after all I have done!"

 

He wiped his hand across his brow, and finding it cut, he looked at the back of his hand, and saw by the deep colour that it was blood, indeed, he could now feel it trickle down his face.

 

What to do he hardly knew; he could stand, and after having got upon his feet, he staggered hack against the wall, against which he leaned for support, and afterwards he crept along with the aid of its support, until he came to the door.

 

He was observed from the window, where Henry and Charles Holland, seeing him come up with such an unsteady gait, rushed to the door to ascertain what was the matter.

 

"What, doctor!" exclaimed Henry Bannerworth; "what is the matter?"

 

"I am almost dead, I think," said Chillingworth. "Lend me your arm, Henry."

 

Henry and Charles Holland immediately stepped out, and took him between them into the parlour, and placed him upon a couch.

 

"What on earth has happened, doctor?--have you got into disgrace with the populace?"

 

"No, no; give me some drink--some water, I am very faint--very faint."

 

"Give him some wine, or, what's better, some grog," said the admiral. "Why, he's been yard-arm with some pirate or other, and he's damaged about the figure-head. You ain't hurt in your lower works, are you, doctor?" said the admiral.

 

But the doctor took no notice of the inquiry; but eagerly sipped the contents of a glass that Charles Holland had poured out of a bottle containing some strong Hollands, and which appeared to nerve him much.

 

"There!" said the admiral, "that will do you good. How did all this damage to your upper works come about, eh?"

 

"Let him wash his face and hands first; he will be better able to talk afterwards."

 

"Oh, thank you," said Chillingworth. "I am much better; but I have had some hard bruises."

 

"How did it happen?"

 

"I went by myself to watch in the room where the picture was in Bannerworth Hall."

 

"Where the picture was!" said Henry; "where it is, you mean, do you not, doctor?"

 

"No; where it was, and where it is not now."

 

"Gone!"

 

"Yes, gone away; I'll tell you all about it. I went there to watch, but found nobody or nothing there; but suddenly a man stepped out from behind the picture, and we had a fight over it; after which, just as I was getting the worst of it, Jack Pringle came in."

 

"The dog!" muttered the admiral.

 

"Yes, he came in just in time, I believe, to save my life; for the man, whoever he was, would not have hesitated about it."

 

"Well, Jack is a good man," said the admiral; "there may be worse, at least."

 

"Well, we had a desperate encounter for some minutes, during which this fellow wanted to carry off the picture."

 

"Carry off the picture?"

 

"Yes; we had a struggle for that; but we could not capture him; he was so violent that he broke away and got clear off."

 

"With the picture?"

 

"No, he left the picture behind. Well, we were very tired and bruised, and we sat down to recover ourselves from our fatigue, and to consider what was best to be done; but we were some time before we could leave, and then we determined that we would take the picture away with us, as it seemed to be coveted by the robber, for what object we cannot tell."