How it came there it would be difficult to say. It appeared as though,
when the waters were high, the body had floated down, and, at the
subsidence of the waters, it had been left upon the stones, and now it
was exposed to view. It was strange and mysterious, and those who might look upon such a
sight would feel their blood chill, and their body creep, to contemplate
the remains of humanity in such a place, and in such a condition as that
must be in. A human life had been taken! How? Who could tell? Perhaps accident alone
was the cause of it; perhaps some one had taken a life by violent means,
and thrown the body in the waters to conceal the fact and the crime. The waters had brought it down, and deposited it there in the middle of
the river, without any human creature being acquainted with the fact. But the moon rises--the beams come trembling through the tree tops and
straggling branches, and fall upon the opposite bank, and there lies the
body, mid stream, and in comparative darkness. By the time the river is lit up by the moon's rays, then the object on
the stones will be visible, then it can be ascertained what appears now
only probable, namely, is the dark object a human form or not? In the absence of light it appears to be so, but when the flood of
silver light falls upon it, it would be placed then beyond a doubt. The time is approaching--the moon each moment approaches her meridian,
and each moment do the rays increase in number and in strength, while
the shadows shorten. The opposite bank each moment becomes more and more distinct, and the
side of the stream, the green rushes and sedges, all by degrees come
full into view. Now and then a fish leaps out of the stream, and just exhibits itself,
as much as to say, "There are things living in the stream, and I am one
of them." The moment is one of awe--the presence of that mysterious and
dreadful-looking object, even while its identity remains doubt, chills
the heart--it contracts the expanding thoughts to that one object--all
interest in the scene lies centered in that one point. What could it be? What else but a human body? What else could assume
such a form? But see, nearly half the stream is lit by the moonbeams
struggling through the tree tops, and now rising above them. The light
increases, and the shadows shorten. The edge of the bed of stones now becomes lit up by the moonlight; the
rippling stream, the bubbles, and the tiny spray that was caused by the
rush of water against the stones, seemed like sparkling flashes of
silver fire. Then came the moonbeams upon the body, for it was raised above the level
of the water, and shewed conspicuously; for the moonbeams reached the
body before they fell on the surrounding water; for that reason then it
was the body presented a strange and ghastly object against a deep, dark
background, by which it was surrounded. But this did not last long--the water in another minute was lit up by
the moon's pale beams, and then indeed could be plainly enough seen the
body of a man lying on the heap of stones motionless and ghastly. The colourless hue of the moonlight gave the object a most horrific and
terrible appearance! The face of the dead man was turned towards the
moon's rays, and the body seemed to receive all the light that could
fall upon it. It was a terrible object to look upon, and one that added a new and
singular interest to the scene! The world seemed then to be composed
almost exclusively of still life, and the body was no impediment to the
stillness of the scene. It was, all else considered, a calm, beautiful scene, lovely the night,
gorgeous the silvery rays that lit up the face of nature; the hill and
dale, meadow, and wood, and river, all afforded contrasts strong,
striking, and strange. But strange, and more strange than any contrast in nature, was that
afforded to the calm beauty of the night and place by the deep stillness
and quietude imposed upon the mind by that motionless human body. The moon's rays now fell upon its full length; the feet were lying in
the water, the head lay back, with its features turned towards the
quarter of the heavens where the moon shone from; the hair floated on
the shallow water, while the face and body were exposed to all
influences, from its raised and prominent position. The moonbeams had scarcely settled upon it--scarce a few minutes--when
the body moved. Was it the water that moved it? it could not be, surely,
that the moonbeams had the power of recalling life into that inanimate
mass, that lay there for some time still and motionless as the very
stones on which it lay. It was endued with life; the dead man gradually rose up, and leaned
himself upon his elbow; he paused a moment like one newly recalled to
life; he seemed to become assured he did live. He passed one hand
through his hair, which was wet, and then rose higher into a sitting
posture, and then he leaned on one hand, inclining himself towards the
moon. His breast heaved with life, and a kind of deep inspiration, or groan,
came from him, as he first awoke to life, and then he seemed to pause
for a few moments. He turned gradually over, till his head inclined down
the stream. Just below, the water deepened, and ran swiftly and silently on amid
meads and groves of trees. The vampyre was revived; he awoke again to a
ghastly life; he turned from the heap of stones, he gradually allowed
himself to sink into deep water, and then, with a loud plunge, he swam
to the centre of the river. Slowly and surely did he swim into the centre of the river, and down the
stream he went. He took long, but easy strokes, for he was going down
the stream, and that aided him. For some distance might he be heard and seen through the openings in the
trees, but he became gradually more and more indistinct, till sound and
sight both ceased, and the vampyre had disappeared. During the continuance of this singular scene, not one word had passed
between the landlord and his companions. When the blacksmith fired the
fowling-piece, and saw the stranger fall, apparently lifeless, upon the
stepping-stones that crossed the river, he became terrified at what he
had done, and gazed upon the seeming lifeless form with a face on which
the utmost horror was depicted. They all seemed transfixed to the spot, and although each would have
given worlds to move away, a kind of nightmare seemed to possess them,
which stunned all their faculties, and brought over them a torpidity
from which they found it impossible to arouse themselves. But, when the apparently dead man moved again, and when, finally, the
body, which appeared so destitute of life, rolled into the stream, and
floated away with the tide, their fright might be considered to have
reached its climax.