CHAPTER CCXVI.
[Chapter 233]
THE NIGHT ATTACK. —THE HORRIBLE CONCLUSION.
I paused yet a moment, for there came across me even then, after I had
gone so far, a horrible dread of what I was about to do, and a feeling that
there might be consequences arising from it that would jeopardise me greatly.
Perhaps even then if a great accession of strength had come to my aid—mere
bodily aid I mean—I should have hesitated, and the victim would have
escaped; but, as if to mock me, there came that frightful feeling of
exhaustion which felt so like the prelude to another death.
I no longer hesitated; I turned the lock of the door, and I thought that
I must be discovered. I left it open about an inch, and then flew back to my
own chamber.
I listened attentively; there was no alarm, no movement in any of the
rooms—the same death-like stillness pervaded the house, and I felt that I
was still safe.
A soft gleam of yellow looking light had come through the crevice of the
door when I had opened it. It mingled strangely with the moonlight, and I
concluded correctly enough, as I found afterwards, that a light was burning in
the chamber.
It was at least another ten minutes before I could sufficiently re-assure
myself to glide from my own room and approach that of the fated sleeper; but
at length I told myself that I might safely do so, and the night was waning
fast, and if anything was to be accomplished it must be done at once, before
the first beams of early dawn should chase away the spirits of the night, and
perhaps should leave me no power to act.
"What shall I be," I asked myself; "after another four-and-twenty hours
of exhaustion? Shall I have power then to make the election of what I will do
or what I will not? No, I may suffer the pangs of death again, and the
scarcely less pangs of another revival."
This reasoning—if it may be called reasoning—decided me; and with
cautious and cat-like footsteps, I again approached the bed-room door which I
had opened.
I no longer hesitated, but at once crossed the threshold, and looked
around me. It was the chamber of the youngest of my landlady's daughters,
who, as far as I could judge, seemed to be about sixteen years of age; but
they had evidently been so struck with my horrible appearance, that they had
placed themselves as little as possible in my way, so that I could not be said
to be a very good judge of their ages or of their looks.
I only knew she was the youngest, because she wore her hair long, and
wore it in ringlets, which were loose and streaming over the pillow on which
she slept, while her sister, I remarked, wore her hair plaited up, and
completely off her neck and shoulders.
I stood by the bed-side, and looked upon this beautiful girl in all the
pride of her young beauty, so gently and quietly slumbering. Her lips were
parted, as though some pleasant images were passing in her mind, and induced a
slight smile even in her sleep. She murmured twice, too, a word, which I
thought was the name of some one—perchance the idol of her young heart—but
it was too indistinct for me to catch it, nor did I care to hear; that which
was perhaps a very cherished secret, indeed, mattered not to me. I made no
pretentions to her affections, however strongly in a short time I might stand
in her abhorrence.
One of her arms, which was exquisitely rounded, lay upon the coverlit; a
neck, too, as white as alabaster, was partially exposed to my gaze, but I had
no passions—it was food I wanted.
I sprung upon her. There was a shriek, but not before I had secured a
draught of life blood from her neck. It was enough. I felt it dart through
my veins like fire, and I was restored. From that moment I found out what was
to be my sustenance; it was blood—the blood of the young and the beautiful.
The house was thoroughly alarmed, but not before I had retired to my own
chamber. I was but partially dressed, and those few clothes I threw off me,
and getting into my bed, I feigned to be asleep; so that when a gentleman who
slept likewise in the house, but of whose presence I knew nothing, knocked
hardly at my door, I affected to awaken in a fright, and called out, —
"What is it? what is it? —fof God's sake tell me if it is a fire."
"No, no—but get up, sir, get up. There's some one in the place. An
attempt at murder, I think, sir."
I arose and opened the door; so by the right he carried he saw that
I had to dress myself—he was but half attired himself, and he carried his
sword beneath his arm.
"It is a strange thing," he said; "but I have heard a shriek of alarm."
"And I likewise," said I; "but I thought it was a dream."
"Help! help! help!" cried the widow, who had risen, but stood upon the
threshold of her own chamber; "thieves! thieves!"
By this time I had got on sufficient of my apparel that I could make an
appearance, and, likewise with my sword in my hand, I sallied out into the
corridor.
"Oh, gentlemen—gentlemen," cried the landlady, "did you hear anything?"
"A shriek, madam," said my fellow-lodger; "have you looked into your
daughters' chambers?"
The room of the youngest daughter was the nearest, and into that she went
at once. In another moment she appeared on the threshold again with a face as
white as a sheet, then she wrung her hands, and said, —
"Murder! murder! —my child is murdered—my child is murdered, Master
Harding," —which I found was the name of my fellow-lodger.
"Fling open one of the windows, and call for the watch," said he to me.
"and I will search the room, and woe be to any one that I may find within its
walls unauthorised."
I did as he desired, and called the watch, but the watch came not, and
then, upon a second visit to her daughter, the landlady found she had only
fainted, and that she had been deceived in thinking she was murdered by the
sudden sight of the blood upon her neck, so the house was restored to
something like quiet again, and the morning begin now near at hand, Mr.
Harding retired to his chamber, and I to mine, leaving the landlady and her
eldest daughter assiduous in their attentions to the younger.
How wonderfuly revived I felt—I was quite a new creature when the
sunlight came dancing into my apartment. I dressed and was about to leave the
house, when Mr. Harding came out of one of the lower rooms, and intercepted
me.
"Sir," he said, "I have not the pleasure of knowing you, but I have no
doubt that an ordinary feeling of chivalry will prompt you to do all in your
power to obviate the dread of such another night as the past."
"Dread, sir," said I, "the dread of what?"
"A very proper question," he said, "but one I can hardly answer; the girl
states, she was awakened by some one biting her neck, and in proof of the
story she actually exhibits the marks of teeth, and so terrified is she, that
she declares that she shall never be able to sleep again."
"You astonish me."
"No doubt—it is sufficiently astonishing to excuse even doubts; but if
you and I, who are both inmates of the house, were to keep watch to-night in
the corridor, it might have the effect of completely quieting the imagination
of the young girl, and perhaps result in the discovery of this nocturnal
disturber of the peace."
"Certainly," said I, "command me in any way, I shall have great
pleasure."
"Shall it be understood, then, that we meet at eleven in your apartment
or in mine."
"Whichever you may please to consider the most convenient, sir."
"I mention my own then, which is the furthest door in the corridor, and
where I shall be happy to see you at eleven o'clock."
There was a something about this young man's manner which I did not
altogether like, and yet I could not come to any positive conclusion as to
whether he suspected me, and therefore I thought it would be premature to fly,
when perhaps there would be really no occasion for doing so; on the contrary,
I made up my mind to wait the result of the evening, which might or might not
be disastrous to me. At all events, I considered that I was fully equal to
taking my own part, and if by the decrees of destiny I was really to be, as it
were, repudiated from society, and made to endure a new, strange, and horrible
existence, I did not see that I was called upon to be particular how I rescued
myself from difficulties that might arise.
Relying, then, upon my own strength, and my own unscrupulous use of it, I
awaited with tolerable composure the coming of night.
During the day I amused myself by walking about, and noting the
remarkable changes which so short a period as two years had made in London.
But these happened to be two years most abundantly prolific in change. The
feelings and habits of people seemed to have undergone a thorough revolution,
which I was the more surprised at when I learned by what thorough treachery
the restoration of the exiled family was effected.
The day wore on; I felt no need of refreshment, and I began to feel my
own proper position, and to feel that occasionally a draught of delicious
life-blood, such as I had quaffed the night before was fresh marrow to my
bones.
I could see, when I entered the house where I had made my temporary home,
that notwithstanding that I considered my appearance wonderfully improved,
that feeling was not shared in by others, for the whole family shrunk from me
as though there had been a most frightful contamination in my touch, and as
though the very air I had breathed was hateful and deleterious. I felt
convinced that there had been some conversation concerning me, and that I was
rather more than suspected. I certainly could then have left the place easily
and quietly, but I had a feeling of defiance, which did not enable me to do
so.
I felt as if I were an injured being, and ought to resist a something
that looked like oppression.
"Why," I said to myself, "have I been rescued from the tomb to be made
the sport of a malignant destiny? My crime was a great one, but surely I
suffered enough, when I suffered death as an expiation of it, and I might have
been left to repose in the grave."
The feelings that have since come over me held no place in my
imagination, but with a kind of defiant desperation I felt as if I should like
to defeat the plan by which I was attempted to be punished, and even in the
face of Providence itself, to show that it was a failure entailing far worse
consequences upon others than upon me.
This was my impression, so I would not play the coward, and fly upon the
first flash of danger.
I sat in my own room until the hour came for my appointment with Mr.
Harding, and then I walked along the corridor with a confident step, and let
the hilt end of my scabbard clank along the floor. I knocked boldly at the
door, and I thought there was a little hesitation in his voice as he bade me
walk in, but this might have been only my imagination.
He was seated at a table, fully dressed, and in addition to his sword,
there was lying upon the table before him a large holster pistol, nearly half
the size of a carbine.
"You are well prepared," said I, as I pointed to it.
"Yes," he said, "and I mean to use it."
"What do they want now?" I said.
"What do who want?"
"I don't know," I said, "but I thought I heard some one call you by name
from below."
"Indeed, excuse me a moment, perhaps they have made some discovery."
There was wine upon the table, and while he was gone, I poured a glass of
good Rhenish down the barrel of the pistol. I wiped it carefully with the
cuff of my coat, so there was no appearance upon the barrel of anything of the
sort, and when he came back, he looked at me very suspiciously, as he said, —
"Nobody called me, how could you say I was called."
"Because I thought I heard you called; I suppose it is allowable for
human nature to be fallible now and then."
"Yes, but then I am so surprised how you could make such a mistake."
"So am I."
It was rather a difficult thing to answer this, and looking at me very
steadily, he took up the pistol and examined the priming. Of course, that was
all right, and he appeared to be perfectly satisfied.
"There will be two chairs and a table," he said, "placed in the corridor,
so that we can sit in perfect ease. I will not anticipate that anything will
happen, but if it should, I can only say that I will not be backward in the
use of my weapons."
"I don't doubt it," said I, "and commend you accordingly. That pistol
must be a most formidable weapon. Does it ever miss fire?"
"Not that I know of," he said, "I have loaded it with such extraordinary
care that it amounts to almost an impossibility that it should. Will you take
some wine?"
At this moment there came a loud knocking at the door of the house. I
saw an expression of satisfaction come over his face and he sprung to his
feet, holding the pistol in his grasp.
"Do you know the meaning of that knocking," said I, "at such an hour?"
and at the same time with a sweep of my arm I threw his sword off the table
and beyond his reach.
"Yes," he said, rather excitedly; "you are my prisoner, it was you who
caused the mischief and confusion last night. The girl is ready to swear to
you, and if you attempt to escape, I'll blow your brains out."
"Fire at me," said I, "and take the consequences—but the threat is
sufficient, and you shall die for your temerity."
I drew my sword, and he evidently thought his danger imminent, for he at
once snapped the pistol in my face. Of course it only flashed in the pan, but
in one moment my sword went through him like a flash of light. It was a good
blade the Jew had sold me—the hilt struck against his breast bone, and he
shrieked.
Bang! bang! bang! came again at the outer door of the house. I withdrew
the reeking blade, dashed it into the scabbard just in time to prevent my
landlady from opening the door, which she was almost in the act of doing. I
seized her by the back of the neck, and hurled her to a considerable distance,
and then opening the door myself, I stood behind it, and let three men rush
into the house. After which I quietly left it, and was free."
—