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I know not what to say, Sir Francis Varney, to you; but recent events in my family have made the sight of you full of horrible conjectures." "What mean you, sir?" "You know, from common report, that we have had a fearful visitor at our house." "A vampyre, I have heard," said Sir Francis Varney, with a bland, and almost beautiful smile, which displayed his white glistening teeth to perfection.
It would appear as if the vampyre had been started from some hiding-place in the interior of the wood, and had then thought it expedient altogether to leave that retreat, and make his way to some more secure one across the open country, where there would be more obstacles to his discovery than perseverance could overcome.
"I have been thinking of what has occurred here, and the result of that thought has been one of the wildest suppositions that ever I thought I should have to entertain. Have you never heard of a vampyre?" Henry sighed deeply, and Marchdale was silent. "I say a vampyre," added George, with much excitement in his manner.
However, he got on the bank, and leaped into the next field, and then he was immediately surrounded by those who pursued him, and he was struck down. "Down with the vampyre! kill him, he's one of 'em, run a stake through him!" were a few of the cries of the infuriated mob of people, who were only infuriated because he attempted to escape their murderous intentions.
"You may depend he's a vampyre," said one, "or it wouldn't be so difficult to get him out of the grave." "Oh, there can be no mistake about that," said one; "when did a natural Christian's coffin stick in the mud in that way?"
Philpots, when she came down stairs equipped for the streets, "why, my dear, where are you going?" "And pray, sir, what are you shutting up the shop for at this time of the evening!" "Oh! why, the fact is, I thought I'd just go to the Rose and Crown, and mention that the vampyre was so near at hand." "Well, Mr.
The very repetition of these words had a charm for Flora a charm which was sufficient to banish much sorrow; even the much-dreaded vampyre was forgotten while the light of love was beaming upon her, and she told herself, "He is mine! he is mine! He loves me truly."
"The vampyre, Henry. It was a vampyre." "Good God, who told you so?" "No one. I have read of them in the book of travels in Norway, which Mr. Marchdale lent us all." "Alas, alas!" groaned Henry. "Discard, I pray you, such a thought from your mind." "Can we discard thoughts. What power have we but from that mind, which is ourselves?" "True, true." "Hark, what noise is that?
Then, in a temporary lull, a loud voice shouted, "Down with the vampyre down with the vampyre!" The truth in an instant burst over the mind of Mr. Chillingworth; and, turning to his wife, he exclaimed, "I understand it now. You've been gossipping about Sir Francis Varney, and have caused all this tumult." "I gossip! Well, I never! Lay it on me; it's sure to be my fault.
"And she might herself actually, when after death she became a vampyre, come and feed on her own children." "Become a vampyre! What, is she going to be a vampyre too?" "My dear sir, don't you know that it is a remarkable fact, as regards the physiology of vampyres, that whoever is bitten by one of those dreadful beings, becomes a vampyre?" "The devil!" "It is a fact, sir."
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