Varney the Vampire 2(21)

 

But here their violence and headlong precipitancy were suddenly restrained by the imposing and quiet appearance of the individual who was there seated.

 

The mob entered the room, and there was a sight, that if it did not astonish them, at least, it caused them to pause before the individual who was seated there.

 

The room was well filled with furniture, and there was a curtain drawn across the room, and about the middle of it there was a table, behind which sat Sir Francis Varney himself, looking all smiles and courtesy.

 

"Well, dang my smock-frock!" said one, "who'd ha' thought of this? He don't seem to care much about it."

 

"Well, I'm d----d!" said another; "he seems pretty easy, at all events. What is he going to do?"

 

"Gentlemen," said Sir Francis Varney, rising, with the blandest smiles, "pray, gentlemen, permit me to inquire the cause of this condescension on your part. The visit is kind."

 

The mob looked at Sir Francis, and then at each other, and then at Sir Francis again; but nobody spoke. They were awed by this gentlemanly and collected behaviour.

 

"If you honour me with this visit from pure affection and neighbourly good-will, I thank you."

 

"Down with the vampyre!" said one, who was concealed behind the rest, and not so much overawed, as he had not seen Sir Francis.

 

Sir Francis Varney rose to his full height; a light gleamed across his features; they were strongly defined then. His long front teeth, too, showed most strongly when he smiled, as he did now, and said, in a bland voice,--

 

"Gentlemen, I am at your service. Permit me to say you are welcome to all I can do for you. I fear the interview will be somewhat inconvenient and unpleasant to you. As for myself, I am entirely at your service."

 

As Sir Francis spoke, he bowed, and folded his hands together, and stepped forwards; but, instead of coming onwards to them, he walked behind the curtain, and was immediately hid from their view.

 

"Down with the vampyre!" shouted one.

 

"Down with the vampyre!" rang through the apartment; and the mob now, not awed by the coolness and courtesy of Sir Francis, rushed forward, and, overturning the table, tore down the curtain to the floor; but, to their amazement, there was no Sir Francis Varney present.

 

"Where is he?"

 

"Where is the vampyre?"

 

"Where has he gone?"

 

These were cries that escaped every one's lips; and yet no one could give an answer to them.

 

There Sir Francis Varney was not. They were completely thunderstricken. They could not find out where he had gone to. There was no possible means of escape, that they could perceive. There was not an odd corner, or even anything that could, by any possibility, give even a suspicion that even a temporary concealment could take place.

 

They looked over every inch of flooring and of wainscoting; not the remotest trace could be discovered.

 

"Where is he?"

 

"I don't know," said one--"I can't see where he could have gone. There ain't a hole as big as a keyhole."

 

"My eye!" said one; "I shouldn't be at all surprised, if he were to blow up the whole house."

 

"You don't say go!"

 

"I never heard as how vampyres could do so much as that. They ain't the sort of people," said another.

 

"But if they can do one thing, they can do another."

 

"That's very true."

 

"And what's more, I never heard as how a vampyre could make himself into nothing before; yet he has done so."

 

"He may be in this room now."

 

"He may."

 

"My eyes! what precious long teeth he had!"

 

"Yes; and had he fixed one on 'em in to your arm, he would have drawn every drop of blood out of your body; you may depend upon that," said an old man.

 

"He was very tall."

 

"Yes; too tall to be any good."

 

"I shouldn't like him to have laid hold of me, though, tall as he is; and then he would have lifted me up high enough to break my neck, when he let me fall."

 

The mob routed about the room, tore everything out of its place, and as the object of their search seemed to be far enough beyond their reach, their courage rose in proportion, and they shouted and screamed with a proportionate increase of noise and bustle; and at length they ran about mad with rage and vexation, doing all the mischief that was in their power to inflict.

 

Then they became mischievous, and tore he furniture from its place, and broke it in pieces, and then amused themselves with breaking it up, throwing pieces at the pier-glasses, in which they made dreadful holes; and when that was gone, they broke up the frames.