The admiral had armed himself with one of the huge pistols, and he
dashed forward, with all the vehemence of his character, towards the
window, where he knew he had placed the family crockery, and where he
fully expected to meet the reward of his exertion by discovering some
one lying amid its fragments. In this, however, he was disappointed; for, although there was evidently
a great smash amongst the plates and dishes, the window remained closed,
and there was no indication whatever of the presence of any one. "Well, that's odd," said the admiral; "I balanced them up amazingly
careful, and two of 'em edgeways--d---e, a fly would have knocked them
down." "Mew," said, a great cat, emerging from under a chair. "Curse you, there you are," said the admiral. "Put out the light, put
out the light; here we're illuminating the whole house for nothing." With, a click went the darkening slide over the lantern, and all was
obscurity. At that instant a shrill, clear whistle came from the garden. CHAPTER LVIII. THE ARRIVAL OF JACK PRINGLE.--MIDNIGHT AND THE VAMPYRE.--THE MYSTERIOUS
HAT. [Illustration]

"Bless me! what is that?" said Mr. Chillingworth; "what a very singular
sound." "Hold your noise," said the admiral; "did you never hear that before?" "No; how should I?" "Lor, bless the ignorance of some people, that's a boatswain's call." "Oh, it is," said Mr. Chillingworth; "is he going to call again?" "D----e, I tell ye it's a boatswain's call." "Well, then, d----e, if it comes to that," said Mr. Chillingworth, "what
does he call here for?" The admiral disdained an answer; but demanding the lantern, he opened
it, so that there was a sufficient glimmering of light to guide him, and
then walked from the room towards the front door of the Hall. He asked no questions before he opened it, because, no doubt, the signal
was preconcerted; and Jack Pringle, for it was he indeed who had
arrived, at once walked in, and the admiral barred the door with the
same precision with which it was before secured. "Well, Jack," he said, "did you see anybody?" "Ay, ay, sir," said Jack. "Why, ye don't mean that--where?" "Where I bought the grub; a woman--"

"D----e, you're a fool, Jack." "You're another." "Hilloa, ye scoundrel, what d'ye mean by talking to me in that way? is
this your respect for your superiors?" "Ship's been paid off long ago," said Jack, "and I ain't got no
superiors. I ain't a marine or a Frenchman." "Why, you're drunk." "I know it; put that in your eye." "There's a scoundrel. Why, you know-nothing-lubber, didn't I tell you to
be careful, and that everything depended upon secrecy and caution? and
didn't I tell you, above all this, to avoid drink?" "To be sure you did." "And yet you come here like a rum cask." "Yes; now you've had your say, what then?" "You'd better leave him alone," said Mr. Chillingworth; "it's no use
arguing with a drunken man." "Harkye, admiral," said Jack, steadying himself as well as he could. "I've put up with you a precious long while, but I won't no longer;
you're so drunk, now, that you keeping bobbing up and down like the
mizen gaff in a storm--that's my opinion--tol de rol." "Let him alone, let him alone," urged Mr. Chillingworth. "The villain," said the admiral; "he's enough to ruin everything; now,
who would have thought that? but it's always been the way with him for a
matter of twenty years--he never had any judgment in his drink. When it
was all smooth sailing, and nothing to do, and the fellow might have got
an extra drop on board, which nobody would have cared for, he's as sober
as a judge; but, whenever there's anything to do, that wants a little
cleverness, confound him, he ships rum enough to float a seventy-four." "Are you going to stand anything to drink," said Jack, "my old buffer? Do you recollect where you got your knob scuttled off Beyrout--how you
fell on your latter end and tried to recollect your church cateckis, you
old brute?--I's ashamed of you. Do you recollect the brown girl you
bought for thirteen bob and a tanner, at the blessed Society Islands,
and sold her again for a dollar, to a nigger seven feet two, in his
natural pumps? you're a nice article, you is, to talk of marines and
swabs, and shore-going lubbers, blow yer. Do you recollect the little
Frenchman that told ye he'd pull your blessed nose, and I advised you to
soap it? do you recollect Sall at Spithead, as you got in at a port hole
of the state cabin, all but her behind?" "Death and the devil!" said the admiral, breaking from the grasp of Mr.
Chillingworth. "Ay," said Jack, "you'll come to 'em both one of these days, old cock,
and no mistake." "I'll have his life, I'll have his life," roared the admiral. "Nay, nay, sir," said Mr. Chillingworth, catching the admiral round the
waist. "My dear sir, recollect, now, if I may venture to advise you,
Admiral Bell, there's a lot of that fiery hollands you know, in the next
room; set firm down to that, and finish him off. I'll warrant him, he'll
be quiet enough." "What's that you say?" cried Jack--"hollands!--who's got any?--next to
rum and Elizabeth Baker, if I has an affection, it's hollands." "Jack!" said the admiral. "Ay, ay, sir!" said Jack, instinctively. "Come this way." Jack staggered after him, and they all reached the room where the
admiral and Mr. Chillingworth had been sitting before the alarm. "There!" said the admiral, putting the light upon the table, and
pointing to the bottle; "what do you think of that?" "I never thinks under such circumstances," said Jack. "Here's to the
wooden walls of old England!" He seized the bottle, and, putting its neck into his mouth, for a few
moments nothing was heard but a gurgling sound of the liquor passing
down his throat; his head went further and further back, until, at last,
over he went, chair and bottle and all, and lay in a helpless state of
intoxication on the floor. "So far, so good," said the admiral. "He's out of the way, at all
events." "I'll just loosen his neckcloth," said Mr. Chillingworth, "and then
we'll go and sit somewhere else; and I should recommend that, if
anywhere, we take up our station in that chamber, once Flora's, where
the mysterious panelled portrait hangs, that bears so strong a
resemblance to Varney, the vampyre." "Hush!" said the admiral. "What's that?" They listened for a moment intently; and then, distinctly, upon the
gravel path outside the window, they heard a footstep, as if some person
were walking along, not altogether heedlessly, but yet without any very
great amount of caution or attention to the noise he might make. "Hist!" said the doctor. "Not a word. They come." "What do you say they for?" said the admiral. "Because something seems to whisper me that Mr. Marchdale knows more of
Varney, the vampyre, than ever he has chosen to reveal. Put out the
light." "Yes, yes--that'll do. The moon has risen; see how it streams through
the chinks of the shutters." "No, no--it's not in that direction, or our light would have betrayed
us.