He knew he was breaking his own engagement to be present at the duel
between Henry Bannerworth and Sir Francis Varney, and, as that thought
recurred to him, he dreaded that his professional services might be
required on one side or the other; for he knew, or fancied he knew, that
mutual hatred dictated the contest; and he thought that if ever a duel
had taken place which was likely to be attended with some disastrous
result, that was surely the one. But how could he leave, watched and surrounded as he was by an
infuriated multitude--how could he hope but that his footsteps would be
dogged, or that the slightest attempt of his to convey a warning to Sir
Francis Varney, would not be the means of bringing down upon his head
the very danger he sought to shield him from. In this state of uncertainty, then, did our medical man remain, a prey
to the bitterest reflections, and full of the direst apprehensions,
without having the slightest power of himself to alter so disastrous a
train of circumstances. Dissatisfied with their non-success, the crowd twice searched the house
of Sir Francis Varney, from the attics to the basement; and then, and
not till then, did they begin reluctantly to believe that the servants
must have spoken the truth. "He's in the town somewhere," cried one. "Let's go back to the town." It is strange how suddenly any mob will obey any impulse, and this
perfectly groundless supposition was sufficient to turn their steps back
again in the direction whence they came, and they had actually, in a
straggling sort of column, reached halfway towards the town, when they
encountered a boy, whose professional pursuit consisted in tending sheep
very early of a morning, and who at once informed them that he had seen
Sir Francis Varney in the wood, half way between Bannerworth Hall and
his own home. This event at once turned the whole tide again, and with renewed
clamours, carrying Mr. Chillingworth along with them, they now rapidly
neared the real spot, where, probably, had they turned a little earlier,
they would have viewed the object of their suspicion and hatred. But, as we have already recorded, the advancing throng was seen by the
parties on the ground, where the duel could scarcely have been said to
have been fought; and then had Sir Francis Varney dashed into the wood,
which was so opportunely at hand to afford him a shelter from his
enemies, and from the intricacies of which--well acquainted with them as
he doubtless was,--he had every chance of eluding their pursuit. The whole affair was a great surprise to Henry and his friends, when
they saw such a string of people advancing, with such shouts and
imprecations; they could not, for the life of them, imagine what could
have excited such a turn out among the ordinarily industrious and quiet
inhabitants of a town, remarkable rather for the quietude and steadiness
of its population, than for any violent outbreaks of popular feeling. "What can Mr. Chillingworth be about," said Henry, "to bring such a mob
here? has he taken leave of his senses?" "Nay," said Marchdale; "look again; he seems to be trying to keep them
back, although ineffectually, for they will not be stayed." "D----e," said the admiral, "here's a gang of pirates; we shall be
boarded and carried before we know where we are, Jack." "Ay ay, sir," said Jack. "And is that all you've got to say, you lubber, when you see your
admiral in danger? You'd better go and make terms with the enemy at
once." "Really, this is serious," said Henry; "they shout for Varney. Can Mr.
Chillingworth have been so mad as to adopt this means of stopping the
duel?" "Impossible," said Marchdale; "if that had been his intention, he could
have done so quietly, through the medium of the civil authorities." "Hang me!" exclaimed the admiral, "if there are any civil authorities;
they talk of smashing somebody. What do they say, Jack? I don't hear
quite so well as I used." "You always was a little deaf," said Jack. "What?" "A little deaf, I say." "Why, you lubberly lying swab, how dare you say so?" "Because you was." "You slave-going scoundrel!" "For Heaven's sake, do not quarrel at such a time as this!" said Henry;
"we shall be surrounded in a moment. Come, Mr. Marchdale, let you and I
visit these people, and ascertain what it is that has so much excited
their indignation." "Agreed," said Marchdale; and they both stepped forward at a rapid pace,
to meet the advancing throng. The crowd which had now approached to within a short distance of the
expectant little party, was of a most motley description, and its
appearance, under many circumstances, would cause considerable
risibility. Men and women were mixed indiscriminately together, and in
the shouting, the latter, if such a thing were possible, exceeded the
former, both in discordance and energy. Every individual composing that mob carried some weapon calculated for
defence, such as flails, scythes, sickles, bludgeons, &c., and this mode
of arming caused them to wear a most formidable appearance; while the
passion that superstition had called up was strongly depicted in their
inflamed features. Their fury, too, had been excited by their
disappointment, and it was with concentrated rage that they now pressed
onward. The calm and steady advance of Henry and Mr. Marchdale to meet the
advancing throng, seemed to have the effect of retarding their progress
a little, and they came to a parley at a hedge, which separated them
from the meadow in which the duel had been fought. "You seem to be advancing towards us," said Henry. "Do you seek me or
any of my friends; and if so, upon what errand? Mr. Chillingworth, for
Heaven's sake, explain what is the cause of all this assault. You seem
to be at the head of it." "Seem to be," said Mr. Chillingworth, "without being so. You are not
sought, nor any of your friends?" "Who, then?" "Sir Francis Varney," was the immediate reply. "Indeed! and what has he done to excite popular indignation? of private
wrong I can accuse him; but I desire no crowd to take up my cause, or to
avenge my quarrels." "Mr. Bannerworth, it has become known, through my indiscretion, that Sir
Francis Varney is suspected of being a vampyre." "Is this so?" "Hurrah!" shouted the mob. "Down with the vampyre! hurrah! where is he? Down with him!" "Drive a stake through him," said a woman; "it's the only way, and the
humanest. You've only to take a hedge stake and sharpen it a bit at one
end, and char it a little in the fire so as there mayt'n't be no
splinters to hurt, and then poke it through his stomach." The mob gave a great shout at this humane piece of advice, and it was
some time before Henry could make himself heard at all, even to those
who were nearest to him. When he did succeed in so doing, he cried, with a loud voice,--

"Hear me, all of you.