* * *

The wind rose, and the night had deepened into the utmost darkness. The
blackness of a night, unillumined by the moon, which would not now rise
for some hours, was upon the ancient ruins. All was calm and still, and
no one would have supposed that aught human was within those ancient,
dreary looking walls. Time will show who it was who lay in that unwholesome dungeon, as well
as who were they who visited him so mysteriously, and retired again with
feelings of such evident disappointment with the document it seemed of
such importance, at least to one of them, to get that unconscious man to
sign. CHAPTER XXX. THE VISIT OF FLORA TO THE VAMPYRE.--THE OFFER.--THE SOLEMN ASSEVERATION. [Illustration]

Admiral Bell had, of course, nothing particular to communicate to Flora
in the walk he induced her to take with him in the gardens of
Bannerworth Hall, but he could talk to her upon a subject which was sure
to be a welcome one, namely, of Charles Holland. And not only could he talk to her of Charles, but he was willing to talk
of him in the style of enthusiastic commendation which assimilated best
with her own feelings. No one but the honest old admiral, who was as
violent in his likes and his dislikes as any one could possibly be,
could just then have conversed with Flora Bannerworth to her
satisfaction of Charles Holland. He expressed no doubts whatever concerning Charles's faith, and to his
mind, now that he had got that opinion firmly fixed in his mind,
everybody that held a contrary one he at once denounced as a fool or a
rogue. "Never you mind, Miss Flora," he said; "you will find, I dare say, that
all will come right eventually. D--n me! the only thing that provokes me
in the whole business is, that I should have been such an old fool as
for a moment to doubt Charles." "You should have known him better, sir." "I should, my dear, but I was taken by surprise, you see, and that was
wrong, too, for a man who has held a responsible command." "But the circumstances, dear sir, were of a nature to take every one by
surprise." "They were, they were. But now, candidly speaking, and I know I can
speak candidly to you; do you really think this Varney is the vampyre?" "I do." "You do? Well, then, somebody must tackle him, that's quite clear; we
can't put up with his fancies always." "What can be done?" "Ah, that I don't know, but something must be done, you know. He wants
this place; Heaven only knows why or wherefore he has taken such a fancy
to it; but he has done so, that is quite clear. If it had a good sea
view, I should not be so much surprised; but there's nothing of the
sort, so it's no way at all better than any other shore-going stupid
sort of house, that you can see nothing but land from." "Oh, if my brother would but make some compromise with him to restore
Charles to us and take the house, we might yet be happy." "D--n it! then you still think that he has a hand in spiriting away
Charles?" "Who else could do so?" "I'll be hanged if I know. I do feel tolerably sure, and I have good
deal of reliance upon your opinion, my dear; I say, I do feel tolerably
sure: but, if I was d----d sure, now, I'd soon have it out of him." "For my sake, Admiral Bell, I wish now to extract one promise from you." "Say your say, my dear, and I'll promise you." "You will not then expose yourself to the danger of any personal
conflict with that most dreadful man, whose powers of mischief we do not
know, and therefore cannot well meet or appreciate." "Whew! is that what you mean?" "Yes; you will, I am sure, promise me so much." "Why, my dear, you see the case is this. In affairs of fighting, the
less ladies interfere the better." "Nay, why so?" "Because--because, you see, a lady has no reputation for courage to keep
up. Indeed, it's rather the other way, for we dislike a bold woman as
much as we hold in contempt a cowardly man." "But if you grant to us females that in consequence of our affections,
we are not courageous, you must likewise grant how much we are doomed to
suffer from the dangers of those whom we esteem." "You would be the last person in the world to esteem a coward." "Certainly. But there is more true courage often in not fighting than in
entering into a contest." "You are right enough there, my dear." "Under ordinary circumstances, I should not oppose your carrying out the
dictates of your honour, but now, let me entreat you not to meet this
dreadful man, if man he can be called, when you know not how unfair the
contest may be." "Unfair?" "Yes. May he not have some means of preventing you from injuring him,
and of overcoming you, which no mortal possesses?" "He may." "Then the supposition of such a case ought to be sufficient ground for
at once inducing you to abandon all idea of meeting with him." "My dear, I'll consider of this matter." "Do so." "There is another thing, however, which now you will permit me to ask of
you as a favour." "It is granted ere it is spoken." "Very good. Now you must not be offended with what I am going to say,
because, however it may touch that very proper pride which you, and such
as you, are always sure to possess, you are fortunately at all times
able to call sufficient judgment to your aid to enable you to see what
is really offensive and what is not." "You alarm me by such a preface." "Do I? then here goes at once. Your brother Henry, poor fellow, has
enough to do, has he not, to make all ends meet." A flush of excitement came over Flora's cheek as the old admiral thus
bluntly broached a subject of which she already knew the bitterness to
such a spirit as her brother's. "You are silent," continued the old man; "by that I guess I am not wrong
in my I supposition; indeed it is hardly a supposition at all, for
Master Charles told me as much, and no doubt he had it from a correct
quarter." "I cannot deny it, sir." "Then don't. It ain't worth denying, my dear. Poverty is no crime, but,
like being born a Frenchman, it's a d----d misfortune." Flora could scarcely refuse a smile, as the nationality of the old
admiral peeped out even in the midst of his most liberal and best
feelings. "Well," he continued, "I don't intend that he shall have so much trouble
as he has had. The enemies of his king and his country shall free him
from his embarrassments." "The enemies?" "Yes; who else?" "You speak in riddles, sir." "Do I? Then I'll soon make the riddles plain. When I went to sea I was
worth nothing--as poor as a ship's cat after the crew had been paid off
for a month. Well, I began fighting away as hard and fast as I could,
and the more I fought, and the more hard knocks I gave and took, the
more money I got." "Indeed." "Yes; prize after prize we hauled into port, and at last the French
vessels wouldn't come out of their harbours." "What did you do then?" "What did we do then? Why what was the most natural thing in the whole
world for us to do, we did." "I cannot guess." "Well, I am surprised at that. Try again." "Oh, yes; I can guess now.