Varney the Vampire 2(50)

 

And yet, surely he needed not have been so cautious. Who was likely, at such an hour as that, to come to the ruins, but one who sought it by appointment?

 

And, moreover, the manner of the advancing man should have been quite sufficient to convince him who waited, that so much caution was unnecessary; but it was a part and parcel of his nature.

 

About three minutes more sufficed to bring the second man to the ruin, and he, at once, and fearlessly, plunged into its recesses.

 

"Who comes?" said the first man, in a deep, hollow voice.

 

"He whom you expect," was the reply.

 

"Good," he said, and at once he now emerged from his hiding-place, and they stood together in the nearly total darkness with which the place was enshrouded; for the night was a cloudy one, and there appeared not a star in the heavens, to shed its faint light upon the scene below.

 

For a few moments they were both silent, for he who had last arrived had evidently made great exertions to reach the spot, and was breathing laboriously, while he who was there first appeared, from some natural taciturnity of character, to decline opening the conversation.

 

At length the second comer spoke, saying,--

 

"I have made some exertion to get here to my time, and yet I am beyond it, as you are no doubt aware."

 

"Yes, yes."

 

"Well, such would not have been the case; but yet, I stayed to bring you some news of importance."

 

"Indeed!"

 

"It is so. This place, which we have, now for some time had as a quiet and perfectly eligible one of meeting, is about to be invaded by one of those restless, troublesome spirits, who are never happy but when they are contriving something to the annoyance of others who do not interfere with them."

 

"Explain yourself more fully."

 

"I will. At a tavern in the town, there has happened some strange scenes of violence, in consequence of the general excitement into which the common people have been thrown upon the dreadful subject of vampyres."

 

"Well."

 

"The consequence is, that numerous arrests have taken place, and the places of confinement for offenders against the laws are now full of those whose heated and angry imaginations have induced them to take violent steps to discover the reality or the falsehood of rumours which so much affected them, their wives, and their families, that they feared to lie down to their night's repose."

 

The other laughed a short, hollow, restless sort of laugh, which had not one particle of real mirth in it.

 

"Go on--go on," he said. "What did they do?"

 

"Immense excesses have been committed; but what made me, first of all, stay beyond my time, was that I overheard a man declare his intentions this night, from twelve till the morning, and for some nights to come, to hold watch and ward for the vampyre."

 

"Indeed!"

 

"Yes. He did but stay, at the earnest solicitation of his comrades, to take yet another glass, ere he came upon his expedition."

 

"He must be met. The idiot! what business is it of his?"

 

"There are always people who will make everything their business, whether it be so or not."

 

"There are. Let us retire further into the recesses of the ruin, and there consider as well what is to be done regarding more important affairs, as with this rash intruder here."

 

They both walked for some twenty paces, or so, right into the ruin, and then he who had been there first, said, suddenly, to his companion,--

 

"I am annoyed, although the feeling reaches no further than annoyance, for I have a natural love of mischief, to think that my reputation has spread so widely, and made so much noise."

 

"Your reputation as a vampyre, Sir Francis Varney, you mean?"

 

"Yes; but there is no occasion for you to utter my name aloud, even here where we are alone together."

 

"It came out unawares."

 

"Unawares! Can it be possible that you have so little command over yourself as to allow a name to come from your lips unawares?"

 

"Sometimes."

 

"I am surprised."

 

"Well, it cannot be helped. What do you now propose to do?"

 

"Nay, you are my privy councillor. Have you no deep-laid, artful project in hand? Can you not plan and arrange something which may yet have the effect of accomplishing what at first seemed so very simple, but which has, from one unfortunate circumstance and another, become full of difficulty and pregnant with all sorts of dangers?"

 

"I must confess I have no plan."

 

"I listen with astonishment."

 

"Nay, now, you are jesting."