CHAPTER CXCI.
[Chapter 208]
THE NIGHT WATCH. —THE SURPRISE. —THE CHASE.
Everything was now said and done that could induce a feeling in the mind
of Varney, that he was perfectly welcome at the Grange, and to dispel the
least idea of anything in the shape of supposition that he might have had,
that he was suspected, although he had not himself by word or look betrayed
such a feeling.
The day to all parties seemed a frightfully long one. Ringwood remained
in the same state of unconsciousness as he had been in the day previous, and
the only circumstance that served to break the monotony of the time, was the
arrival of some of his friends to see him.
It is not essential to our story that we should take up space in
detailing what they said and what they did; suffice it that all the grief was
exhibited that was to be expected, and that finally they left the Grange with
a conviction that the wounded man was in as kind hands as they could possibly
wish him, and everything would be done, that kindness and skill could suggest,
to recover him and preserve his life.
Probably the dreadful catastrophe that had happened in the family of the
Croftons had in effect in reconciling the Ringwoods to the lesser calamity,
for Dr. North gave them strong hopes of his ultimate recovery.
And so the time passed on, until the dim shadows of the evening began to
creep over the landscape, and the distant trees imperceptibly mingled together
in a chaotic mass. The song of the birds was over —the herds and flocks had
sought their shelter for the night, and a solemn and beautiful stillness was
upon the face of nature.
Assembled once more in the dining-room of the Grange, were the Croftons
—but not Emma, she was in her chamber —the doctor, and Mr. Smith.
Varney had exerted himself much to be entertaining, and yet not
obtrusively so, as under the calamitous and extraordinary circumstances in
which the family was placed, that would have been bad taste; but he led the
conversation into the most interesting channels, and he charmed those who
listened to him, in spite of themselves.
Dr. North was peculiarly pleased with so scientific a companion, and one
who had travelled so much, for Varney spoke of almost every portion of the
globe as familiar to him.
In this kind of way, the evening sped on, and more than once, as Varney
was giving some eloquent and comprehensive description of some natural
phenomenon that he had witnessed in some other clime, not only were the
suspicions entertained agaist him forgotten, but even the grief of the family
faded away for a brief space before the charm of his discourse.
At length the time for rest came.
Sir George rose, and bowing to Varney, said, —
"Do not let our example influence you, sir. We retire now."
"I shall be gald to do so," said Varney, "likewise; last night was a
disturbed as well as a melancholy one for all in this house."
"It was indeed."
In another five minutes, the dining-room was vacant, and all that could
be heard in the house was the noise of putting up extra bars, and shooting
into their places, long unused bolts in order that it should be quite beyond
all doubt that no one could get into the premises.
After that, all was still.
The moon was in her last quarter now, but only at the commencement of it,
so if the night proved not to be cloudy, it would be rather a brilliant one,
which might, or might not be of service to those who were going to watch in
the corridor the proceedings of Mr. Smith.
An hour elapsed before there was any movement whatever, and then it was
Dr. North who first, with great care, emerged from his room.
He had drawn on his stockings over his shoes, so that his footsteps might
not be heard, and he took his station in a dark corner by the large window we
have before spoken of as lighting the corridor.
The moon was up, but it only shone in obliquely at the window,, so
that one side of the corridor was enveloped in the deepest gloom, while on the
other the pale rays fell.
A few minutes more, for half-past eleven was the hour on which they had
all agreed, and Sir George, with Edwin and Charles joined the doctor, who
merely nodded to them, as they could faintly see him.
Sir George spoke in a very faint whisper, saying, —
"We are well armed."
"Good," replied the doctor, in a similar cautious tone, "but let me
implore you to be careful how you use your arms. Do nothing hastily I beg of
you; you don't know what cause of regret the imprudence of a moment may give
rise to."
"Depend upon us, we will be very careful indeed."
"That is right."
"We had better not talk," said Charles, "these corridors cary sound
sometimes too well; if we are to do any good, it must be by preserving the
profoundest silence."
This advice was too practical and evidently good to be neglected, and
consequently they were all as still as they could be, and stood like so many
statues for the next half hour.
They heard a clock that hung in the hall below strike the hour of twelve,
and when the reverberations of sound were over, a stillness even more profound
than before seemed to pervade the whole house. The half hour they had waited
in such silence appeared to them to be of four times the usual length, and
they were glad to hear twelve strike.
Still they said nothing, for if silence before twelve o'clock was a thing
to be desired, it was much more so after that hour, for it was then that the
alarm of the preceeding evening had taken place. Their watchfulness, and
their anxiety momentarily increased.
The old clock in the hall chimed the quarter past twelve, and yet all was
as still as the grave; not the smallest sound disturbed the repose of the
house.
The moon had shifted round a little, so that the gloom of the corridor
was not so complete as it had been, and Dr. North was aware that in another
hour the spot where they all stood would be visited by some rays which would
render their concealment out of the question.
But as yet all was right, and there was no need to shift their position
in the least.
Suddenly Sir George Crofton laid his hand upon the arm of the doctor, and
an exclamation involuntarily escaped him, but not in a loud tone.
"Hush, for God's sake," whispered the doctor.
They had all heard a slight noise, like the cautious opening of a door.
They looked eagerly in the direction from whence it came, and to their
surprise they found it proceed from the chamber of the dead!
Yes, the door of the room in which lay the corpse of Clara slowly opened.
"God of Heaven!" said Sir George.
"Hush—hush," again whispered the doctor, and he held him by the arm
compulsively.
All was still. The door creaked upon its hinges a little, that was all.
A quarter of an hour passed, and then Sir George was about to say
something, when he started as if a shock of electricity had been applied to
him, for the door of Varney's room was swung wide open, and he appeared, full
dressed.
All the doors opening from the corridor creaked unless they were flung
open smartly and quickly, and there could be no doubt but that Varney knew
this, and hence the apparent precipitancy of his appearance.
There he stood in the moonlight, close by the threshold of his room,
gazing about him. He bent himself into an attitude of intense listening, and
remained in it for some time, and then he with slow sliding steps made his way
towards the door of Emma's room.
His hand was actually upon the lock, when Sir George, who could stand the
scene no longer, levelled a pistol he had taken from his pocket, and without
giving any intimation to those who were with him of what he was going to do,
he pulled the trigger.
The pistol only flashed without being fully discharged.
"How imprudent," said the doctor. "You have done it now! Follow me!"
He rushed forward, but he was too late, Varney had taken the alarm, and
in a moment he regained his own room and fastened it securely on the inside.
"We must have him," cried Charles. "He cannot escape from that room.
There is no other door, and the window is a good thirty feet from the garden
below. Alarm the servants, we will soon open his door. It can't be very
secure, for the lock was broken last night."
As he spoke, Charles made a vigorous effort to open the door, but it
resisted as if it had been a part of the solid wall, while within the chamber
all was perfectly still, as if Mr. Smith had quite satisfied himself by
shutting out his assailants, and meant to take no further notice of them.
"This is strange," said the doctor, "but we shall soon find out what he
means by it. The door must be forced as quickly as possible."
Edwin ran down stairs by his father's orders to arouse some of the men
servants, besides getting some weapon or tool by the assistance of which the
door might be forced, and he soon returned with several of the men, and one
armed with the identical crow-bar that had been used with such effect on the
preceding evening. They brought lights with them too, so that the capture of
Mr. Smith appeared to be no longer a matter of doubt with such a force opposed
to him.
"Now," cried Sir George, "do not mind what mischief you do, my men, so
that you break open the door of that room, and quickly too."
People somehow are always glad to be engaged in anything that has a
destructive look about it, and when the servants heard that they might break
away at the door as much as they liked, they set about it with a vengeance
that promised soon to succeed in the object.
The door yielded with a crash.
"Come on, come on. Yield yourself," cried Sir George, and he rushed into
the room followed by his sons and by Dr. North.
There was no Mr. Smith there.
"Escaped," said Dr. North.
"Impossible, —impossible! and yet this open window. He must be lying
dashed to pieces below, for no one could with safety drop or jump such a
height. Run round to the garden some of you, at once."
"Stop," said Charles. "There is no occasion. He has had ample time to
escape. Look here."
Charles pointed out the end of a thick rope, firmly fastened to the ledge
of the window, and by which it was quite clear any one could safely descend
into the garden, it only requiring a little nerve to do so with perfect ease.
"This has all been prepared," said Dr. North.
"Still," cried Sir George, "I will not give the affair up. Mind I offer
a reward of twenty guineas to any one of my household who succeeds in catching
Mr. Smith."
"Lor, sir! what has he done?" said a groom.
"Never you mind what he has done. Bring him in, and you shall have the
reward."
"Very good, sir. Come on, Dick, and you Harry; let's all go, and you
know it will be all the pleasanter to share the reward among us. Come on."
Thus stimulated by their companion, the servants ran out of the house
into the moonlit park in search of Varney the Vampyre.
—
