Hopeless as Mr. Chillingworth thought it was to interfere with any
degree of effect in the proceedings of the mob, he still could not
reconcile it to himself to be absent from a scene which he now felt
certain had been produced by his own imprudence, so he went on with the
crowd, endeavouring, as he did so, by every argument that could be
suggested to him to induce them to abstain from the acts of violence
they contemplated. He had a hope, too, that when they reached Sir
Francis Varney's, finding him not within, as probably would be the case,
as by that time he would have started to meet Henry Bannerworth on the
ground, to fight the duel, he might induce the mob to return and forego
their meditated violence. And thus was it that, urged on by a multitude of persons, the unhappy
surgeon was expiating, both in mind and person, the serious mistakes he
had committed in trusting a secret to his wife. Let it not be supposed that we for one moment wish to lay down a general
principle as regards the confiding secrets to ladies, because from the
beginning of the world it has become notorious how well they keep them,
and with what admirable discretion, tact, and forethought this fairest
portion of humanity conduct themselves. We know how few Mrs. Chillingworths there are in the world, and have but
to regret that our friend the doctor should, in his matrimonial
adventure, have met with such a specimen. CHAPTER XL. THE POPULAR RIOT.--SIR FRANCIS VARNEY'S DANGER.--THE SUGGESTION AND ITS
RESULTS. [Illustration]

Such, then, were the circumstances which at once altered the whole
aspect of the affairs, and, from private and domestic causes of very
deep annoyance, led to public results of a character which seemed likely
to involve the whole country-side in the greatest possible confusion. But while we blame Mr. Chillingworth for being so indiscreet as to
communicate the secret of such a person as Varney the vampyre to his
wife, we trust in a short time to be enabled to show that he made as
much reparation as it was possible to make for the mischief he had
unintentionally committed. And now as he struggled onward--apparently
onward--first and foremost among the rioters, he was really doing all in
his power to quell that tumult which superstition and dread had raised. Human nature truly delights in the marvellous, and in proportion as a
knowledge of the natural phenomena of nature is restricted, and
unbridled imagination allowed to give the rein to fathomless conjecture,
we shall find an eagerness likewise to believe the marvellous to be the
truth. That dim and uncertain condition concerning vampyres, originating
probably as it had done in Germany, had spread itself slowly, but
insidiously, throughout the whole of the civilized world. In no country and in no clime is there not something which bears a kind
of family relationship to the veritable vampyre of which Sir Francis
Varney appeared to be so choice a specimen. The _ghoul_ of eastern nations is but the same being, altered to suit
habits and localities; and the _sema_ of the Scandinavians is but the
vampyre of a more primitive race, and a personification of that morbid
imagination which has once fancied the probability of the dead walking
again among the living, with all the frightful insignia of corruption
and the grave about them. Although not popular in England, still there had been tales told of such
midnight visitants, so that Mrs. Chillingworth, when she had imparted
the information which she had obtained, had already some rough material
to work upon in the minds of her auditors, and therefore there was no
great difficulty in very soon establishing the fact. Under such circumstances, ignorant people always do what they have heard
has been done by some one else before them and in an incredibly short
space of time the propriety of catching Sir Francis Varney, depriving
him of his vampyre-like existence, and driving a stake through his body,
became not at all a questionable proposition. Alas, poor Mr. Chillingworth! as well might he have attempted King
Canute's task of stemming the waves of the ocean as that of attempting
to stop the crowd from proceeding to Sir Francis Varney's house. His very presence was a sort of confirmation of the whole affair. In
vain he gesticulated, in vain he begged and prayed that they would go
back, and in vain he declared that full and ample justice should be done
upon the vampyre, provided popular clamour spared him, and he was left
to more deliberate judgment. Those who were foremost in the throng paid no attention to these
remonstrances while those who were more distant heard them not, and, for
all they knew, he might be urging the crowd on to violence, instead of
deprecating it. Thus, then, this disorderly rabble soon reached the house of Sir Francis
Varney and loudly demanded of his terrified servant where he was to be
found. The knocking at the Hall door was prodigious, and, with a laudable
desire, doubtless, of saving time, the moment one was done amusing
himself with the ponderous knocker, another seized it; so that until the
door was flung open by some of the bewildered and terrified men, there
was no cessation whatever of the furious demands for admittance. "Varney the vampyre--Varney the vampyre!" cried a hundred voices. "Death
to the vampyre! Where is he? Bring him out. Varney the vampyre!" The servants were too terrified to speak for some moments, as they saw
such a tumultuous assemblage seeking their master, while so singular a
name was applied to him. At length, one more bold than the rest
contrived to stammer out,--

"My good people, Sir Francis Varney is not at home. He took an early
breakfast, and has been out nearly an hour." The mob paused a moment in indecision, and then one of the foremost
cried,--

"Who'd suppose they'd own he was at home? He's hiding somewhere of
course; let's pull him out." "Ah, pull him out--pull him out!" cried many voices. A rush was made
into the hall and in a very few minutes its chambers were ransacked, and
all its hidden places carefully searched, with the hope of discovering
the hidden form of Sir Francis Varney. The servants felt that, with their inefficient strength, to oppose the
proceedings of an assemblage which seemed to be unchecked by all sort of
law or reason, would be madness; they therefore only looked on, with
wonder and dismay, satisfied certainly in their own minds that Sir
Francis would not be found, and indulging in much conjecture as to what
would be the result of such violent and unexpected proceedings. Mr. Chillingworth hoped that time was being gained, and that some sort
of indication of what was going on would reach the unhappy object of
popular detestation sufficiently early to enable him to provide for his
own safety.