The landlord ran out, and so did those who were with him, one of whom
carried his brandy and water in his hand, which, being too hot for him
to swallow all at once, he still could not think of leaving behind. It was now gelling rapidly dark, and the mysterious stranger was
actually proceeding towards the lane to keep his appointment with the
boy who had promised to conduct him to the hiding-place of Sir Francis
Varney. He had not proceeded far, however, before he began to suspect that he
was followed, as it was evident on the instant that he altered his
course; for, instead of walking down the lane, where the boy was waiting
for him, he went right on, and seemed desirous of making his way into
the open country between the town and Bannerworth Hall. His pursuers--for they assumed that character--when they saw this became
anxious to intercept him; and thinking that the greater force they had
the better, they called out aloud as they passed a smithy, where a man
was shoeing a horse,--

"Jack Burdon, here is another vampyre!" "The deuce there is!" said the person who was addressed. "I'll soon
settle him. Here's my wife gets no sleep of a night as it is, all owing
to that Varney, who has been plaguing us so long. I won't put up with
another." So saying, he snatched from a hook on which it hung, an old
fowling-piece, and joined the pursuit, which now required to be
conducted with some celerity, for the stranger had struck into the open
country, and was getting on at good speed. The last remnants of the twilight were fading away, and although the
moon had actually risen, its rays were obscured by a number of light,
fleecy clouds, which, although they did not promise to be of long
continuance, as yet certainly impeded the light. "Where is he going?" said the blacksmith. "He seems to be making his way
towards the mill-stream." "No," said another; "don't you see he is striking higher up towards the
old ford, where the stepping-stones are!" "He is--he is," cried the blacksmith. "Run on--run on; don't you see he
is crossing it now? Tell me, all of you, are you quite sure he is a
vampyre, and no mistake? He ain't the exciseman, landlord, now, is he?" "The exciseman, the devil! Do you think I want to shoot the exciseman?" "Very good--then here goes," exclaimed the Smith. He stooped, and just as the brisk night air blew aside the clouds from
before the face of the moon, and as the stranger was crossing the
slippery stones, he fired at him. *       *       *       *       *

How silently and sweetly the moon's rays fall upon the water, upon the
meadows, and upon the woods. The scenery appeared the work of
enchantment, some fairy land, waiting the appearance of its inhabitants. No sound met the ear; the very wind was hushed; nothing was there to
distract the sense of sight, save the power of reflection. This, indeed, would aid the effect of such a scene. A cloudless sky, the
stars all radiant with beauty, while the moon, rising higher and higher
in the heavens, increasing in the strength and refulgence of her light,
and dimming the very stars, which seemed to grow gradually invisible as
the majesty of the queen of night became more and more manifest. The dark woods and the open meadows contrasted more and more strongly;
like light and shade, the earth and sky were not more distinct and
apart; and the ripling stream, that rushed along with all the
impetuosity of uneven ground. The banks are clothed with verdure; the tall sedges, here and there,
lined the sides; beds of bulrushes raised their heads high above all
else, and threw out their round clumps of blossoms like tufts, and
looked strange in the light of the moon. Here and there, too, the willows bent gracefully over the stream, and
their long leaves were wafted and borne up and down by the gentler force
of the stream. Below, the stream widened, and ran foaming over a hard, stony bottom,
and near the middle is a heap of stones--of large stones, that form the
bed of the river, from which the water has washed away all earthy
particles, and left them by themselves. These stones in winter could not be seen, they were all under water, and
the stream washed over in a turbulent and tumultuous manner. But now,
when the water was clear and low, they are many of them positively out
of the water, the stream running around and through their interstices;
the water-weeds here and there lying at the top of the stream, and
blossoming beautifully. The daisy-like blossoms danced and waved gently on the moving flood, at
the same time they shone in the moonlight, like fairy faces rising from
the depths of the river, to receive the principle of life from the
moon's rays. 'Tis sweet to wander in the moonlight at such an hour, and it is sweet
to look upon such a scene with an unruffled mind, and to give way to the
feelings that are engendered by a walk by the river side. See, the moon is rising higher and higher, the shadows grow shorter and
shorter; the river, which in places was altogether hidden by the tall
willow trees, now gradually becomes less and less hidden, and the water
becomes more and more lit up. The moonbeams play gracefully on the rippling surface, here and there
appearing like liquid silver, that each instant changed its position and
surface exposed to the light. Such a moment--such a scene, were by far too well calculated to cause
the most solemn and serious emotions of the mind, and he must have been
but at best insensible, who could wander over meadow and through grove,
and yet remain untouched by the scene of poetry and romance in which he
breathed and moved. At such a time, and in such a place, the world is alive with all the
finer essences of mysterious life. 'Tis at such an hour that the spirits
quit their secret abodes, and visit the earth, and whirl round the
enchanted trees. 'Tis now the spirits of earth and air dance their giddy flight from
flower to flower. 'Tis now they collect and exchange their greetings;
the wood is filled with them, the meadows teem with them, the hedges at
the river side have them hidden among the deep green leaves and blades. But what is that yonder, on the stones, partially out of the water--what
can it be? The more it is looked at, the more it resembles the human
form--and yet it is still and motionless on the hard stones--and yet it
is a human form. The legs are lying in the water, the arms appear to be
partially in and partially out, they seem moved by the stream now and
then, but very gently--so slightly, indeed, that it might well be
questioned if it moved at all. The moon's rays had not yet reached it; the bank on the opposite side of
the stream was high, and some tall trees rose up and obscured the moon. But she was rising higher and higher each moment, and, finally, when it
has reached the tops of those trees, then the rays will reach the middle
of the river, and then, by degrees, it will reach the stones in the
river, and, finally, the body that lies there so still and so
mysteriously.