Penny Dreadful Multipack Vol. 1 (Illustrated. Annotated. 'Wagner The Wehr-Wolf,' 'Varney The Vampire,' 'The Mysteries of London Vol. 1' + Bonus Features) (Penny Dreadful Multipacks) (147 page)

That
this was the case the sound of footsteps soon convinced them, and to their
surprise as well as satisfaction, they saw through the interstices of the
laurel bush behind which they were concealed, no less a personage that Sir
Francis Varney himself.

"It
is Varney," said Henry.

"Yes,
yes," whispered the doctor. "Let him be, do not move for any
consideration, for the first time let him do just what he likes."

"D—n
the fellow!" said the admiral; "there are some points about him that
like, after all, and he's quite an angel compared to that rascal
Marchdale."

"He
is,—he saved Charles."

"He
did, and not if I know it shall any harm come to him, unless he were terribly
to provoke it by becoming himself the assailant."

"How
sad he looks!"

"Hush!
he comes nearer; it is not safe to talk. Look at him."

VARNEY IN THE GARDEN.—THE COMMUNICATION OF DR. CHILLINGWORTH
TO THE ADMIRAL AND HENRY.

Kind
reader, it was indeed Varney who had clambered over the garden wall, and thus
made his way into the garden of Bannerworth Hall; and what filled those who
looked at him with the most surprise was, that he did not seem in any
particular way to make a secret of his presence, but walked on with an air of
boldness which either arose from a feeling of absolute impunity, from his
thinking there was no one there, or from an audacity which none but he could
have compassed.

As
for the little party that was there assembled, and who looked upon him, they
seemed thunderstricken by his presence; and Henry, probably, as well as the
admiral, would have burst out into some sudden exclamation, had they not been
restrained by Dr. Chillingworth, who, suspecting that they might in some way
give an alarm, hastened to speak first, saying in a whisper,—

"For
Heaven's sake, be still, fortune, you see, favours us most strangely. Leave
Varney alone. You have no other mode whatever of discovering what he really wants
at Bannerworth Hall."

"I
am glad you have spoken," said Henry, as he drew a long breath. "If
you had not, I feel convinced that in another moment I should have rushed
forward and confronted this man who has been the very bane of my life."

"And
so should I," said the admiral; "although I protest against any harm
being done to him, on account of some sort of good feeling that he has
displayed, after all, in releasing Charles from that dungeon in which Marchdale
has perished."

"At
the moment," said Henry, "I had forgotten that; but I will own that
his conduct has been tinctured by a strange and wild kind of generosity at
times, which would seem to bespeak, at the bottom of his heart, some good
feelings, the impulses of which were only quenched by circumstances."

"That
is my firm impression of him, I can assure you," said Dr. Chillingworth.

They
watched Varney now from the leafy covert in which they were situated, and,
indeed, had they been less effectually concealed, it did not seem likely that
the much dreaded vampyre would have perceived them; for not only did he make no
effort at concealment himself, but he took no pains to see if any one was
watching him in his progress to the house.

His
footsteps were more rapid than they usually were, and there was altogether an
air and manner about him, as if he were moved to some purpose which of itself
was sufficiently important to submerge in its consequences all ordinary risks
and all ordinary cautions.

He
tried several windows of the house along that terrace of which we have more
than once had occasion to speak, before he found one that opened; but at length
he did succeed, and stepped at once into the Hall, leaving those, who now for
some moments in silence had regarded his movements, to lose themselves in a
fearful sea of conjecture as to what could possibly be his object.

"At
all events," said the admiral, "I'm glad we are here. If the vampyre
should have a fight with that other fellow, that we heard doing such a lot of
carpentering work in the house, we ought, I think, to see fair play."

"I,
for one," said the doctor, "would not like to stand by and see the
vampyre murdered; but I am inclined to think he is a good match for any mortal
opponent."

"You
may depend he is," said Henry.

"But
how long, doctor, do you purpose that we should wait here in such a state of
suspense as to what is going on within the house?"

"I
hope not long; but that something will occur to make us have food for action.
Hark! what is that?"

There
was a loud crash within the building, as of broken glass. It sounded as if some
window had been completely dashed in; but although they looked carefully over
the front of the building, they could see no evidences of such a thing having
happened, and were compelled, consequently, to come to the opinion that Varney
and the other man must have met in one of the back rooms, and that the crash of
glass had arisen from some personal conflict in which they had engaged.

"I
cannot stand this," said Henry.

"Nay,
nay," said the doctor; "be still, and I will tell you something, than
which there can be no more fitting time than this to reveal it."

"Refers
it to the vampyre?"

"It
does—it does."

"Be
brief, then; I am in an agony of impatience."

"It
is a circumstance concerning which I can be brief; for, horrible as it is, I
have no wish to dress it in any adventitious colours. Sir Francis Varney,
although under another name, is an old acquaintance of mine."

"Acquaintance!"
said Henry.

"Why,
you don't mean to say you are a vampyre?" said the admiral; "or that
he has ever visited you?"

"No;
but I knew him. From the first moment that I looked upon him in this
neighbourhood, I thought I knew him; but the circumstance which induced me to
think so was of so terrific a character, that I made some efforts to chase it
from my mind. It has, however, grown upon me day by day, and, lately, I have
had proof sufficient to convince me of his identity with one whom I first saw
under most singular circumstances of romance."

"Say
on,—you are agitated."

"I
am, indeed. This revelation has several times, within the last few days,
trembled on my lips, but now you shall have it; because you ought to know all
that it is possible for me to tell you of him who has caused you so serious an
amount of disturbance."

"You
awaken, doctor," said Henry, "all my interest."

"And
mine, too," remarked the admiral. "What can it be all about? and
where, doctor, did you first see this Varney the vampyre?"

"In
his coffin."

Both
the admiral and Henry gave starts of surprise as, with one accord, they
exclaimed,—

"Did
you say coffin?"

"Yes:
I tell you, on my word of honour, that the first time in my life I saw ever Sir
Francis Varney, was in his coffin."

"Then
he is a vampyre, and there can be no mistake," said the admiral.

"Go
on, I pray you, doctor, go on," said Henry, anxiously.

"I
will. The reason why he became the inhabitant of a coffin was simply this:—he
had been hanged,—executed at the Old Bailey, in London, before ever I set eyes
upon that strange countenance of his. You know that I was practising surgery at
the London schools some years ago, and that, consequently, as I commenced the
profession rather late in life, I was extremely anxious to do the most I could
in a very short space of time."

"Yes—yes."

"Arrived,
then, with plenty of resources, which I did not, as the young men who affected
to be studying in the same classes as myself, spend in the pursuit of what they
considered life in London, I was indefatigable in my professional labours, and
there was nothing connected with them which I did not try to accomplish.

"At
that period, the difficulty of getting a subject for anatomization was very
great, and all sorts of schemes had to be put into requisition to accomplish so
desirable, and, indeed, absolutely necessary a purpose.

"I
became acquainted with the man who, I have told you, is in the Hall, at
present, and who then filled the unenviable post of public executioner. It so
happened, too, that I had read a learned treatise, by a Frenchman, who had made
a vast number of experiments with galvanic and other apparatus, upon persons
who had come to death in different ways, and, in one case, he asserted that he
had actually recovered a man who had been hanged, and he had lived five weeks
afterwards.

"Young
as I then was, in comparison to what I am now, in my profession, this inflamed
my imagination, and nothing seemed to me so desirable as getting hold of some
one who had only recently been put to death, for the purpose of trying what I
could do in the way of attempting a resuscitation of the subject. It was
precisely for this reason that I sought out the public executioner, and made
his acquaintance, whom every one else shunned, because I thought he might
assist me by handing over to me the body of some condemned and executed man,
upon whom I could try my skill.

"I
broached the subject to him, and found him not averse. He said, that if I would
come forward and claim, as next of kin and allow the body to be removed to his
house, the body of the criminal who was to be executed the first time, from
that period, that he could give me a hint that I should have no real next of
kin opponents, he would throw every facility in my way.

"This
was just what I wanted; and, I believe, I waited with impatience for some poor
wretch to be hurried to his last account by the hands of my friend, the public
executioner.

"At
length a circumstance occurred which favoured my designs most effectually,—A
man was apprehended for a highway robbery of a most aggravated character. He
was tried, and the evidence against him was so conclusive, that the defence
which was attempted by his counsel, became a mere matter of form.

"He
was convicted, and sentenced. The judge told him not to flatter himself with
the least notion that mercy would be extended to him. The crime of which he had
been found guilty was on the increase it was highly necessary to make some
great public example, to show evil doers that they could not, with impunity,
thus trample upon the liberty of the subject, and had suddenly, just as it
were, in the very nick of time, committed the very crime, attended with all the
aggravated circumstances which made it easy and desirable to hang him out of
hand.

"He
heard his sentence, they tell me unmoved. I did not see him, but he was
represented to me as a man of a strong, and well-knit frame, with rather a
strange, but what some would have considered a handsome expression of
countenance, inasmuch as that there was an expression of much haughty
resolution depicted on it.

"I
flew to my friend the executioner.

"'Can
you,' I said, 'get me that man's body, who is to be hanged for the highway
robbery, on Monday?'

"'Yes,'
he said; 'I see nothing to prevent it. Not one soul has offered to claim even
common companionship with him,—far less kindred. I think if you put in your
claim as a cousin, who will bear the expense of his decent burial, you will
have every chance of getting possession of the body.'

"I
did not hesitate, but, on the morning before the execution, I called upon one
of the sheriffs.

"I
told him that the condemned man, I regretted to say, was related to me; but as
I knew nothing could be done to save him on the trial, I had abstained from
coming forward; but that as I did not like the idea of his being rudely
interred by the authorities, I had come forward to ask for the body, after the
execution should have taken place, in order that I might, at all events, bestow
upon it, in some sequestered spot, a decent burial, with all the rites of the
church.

"The
sheriff was a man not overburthened with penetration. He applauded my pious
feelings, and actually gave me, without any inquiry, a written order to receive
the body from the hands of the hangman, after it had hung the hour prescribed
by the law.

"I
did not, as you may well suppose, wish to appear more in the business than was
absolutely necessary; but I gave the executioner the sheriff's order for the
body, and he promised that he would get a shell ready to place it in, and four
stout men to carry it at once to his house, when he should cut it down.

"'Good!'
I said; 'and now as I am not a little anxious for the success of my experiment,
do you not think that you can manage so that the fall of the criminal shall not
be so sudden as to break his neck?'

"'I
have thought of that,' he said, 'and I believe that I can manage to let him
down gently, so that he shall die of suffocation, instead of having his neck
put out of joint. I will do my best."

"'If
you can but succeed in that,' said I, for I was quite in a state of mania upon
the subject, 'I shall be much indebted to you, and will double the amount of money
which I have already promised.'

"This
was, as I believed it would be, a powerful stimulus to him to do all in his
power to meet my wishes, and he took, no doubt, active measures to accomplish
all that I desired.

"You
can imagine with what intense impatience I waited the result. He resided in an
old ruinous looking house, a short distance on the Surrey side of the river,
and there I had arranged all my apparatus for making experiments upon the dead
man, in an apartment the windows of which commanded a view of the
entrance."

"I
was completely ready by half-past eight, although a moment's consideration of
course told me that at least another hour must elapse before there could be the
least chance of my seeing him arrive, for whom I so anxiously longed.

"I
can safely say so infatuated was I upon the subject, that no fond lover ever
looked with more nervous anxiety for the arrival of the chosen object of his
heart, than I did for that dead body, upon which I proposed to exert all the
influences of professional skill, to recall back the soul to its earthly
dwelling-place.