It was truly to one, who might look upon it as a reality and no juggle,
a frightful sight to see, and although Marchdale, of course, tolerably
well preserved his equanimity, only now and then, for appearance sake,
affecting to be wonderfully shocked, poor Tom Eccles was in such a state
of horror and fright that he could not, if he would, have flown from the
spot, so fascinated was he by the horrible spectacle. This was a state of things which continued for many minutes, and then
the body showed evident symptoms of so much returning animation, that it
was about to rise from his gory bed and mingle once again with the
living. "Behold!" said Marchdale--"behold!" --"Heaven have mercy upon us!" "It is as I said; the beams of the moon have revived the vampyre. You
perceive now that there can be no doubt." --"Yes, yes, I see him; I see
him." Sir Francis Varney now, as if with a great struggle, rose to his feet,
and looked up at the bright moon for some moments with such an air and
manner that it would not have required any very great amount of
imagination to conceive that he was returning to it some sort of
thanksgiving for the good that it had done to him. He then seemed for some moments in a state of considerable indecision as
to which way he should proceed. He turned round several times. Then he
advanced a step or two towards the house, but apparently his resolution
changed again, and casting his eyes upon the ruins, he at once made
towards them. This was too much for the philosophy as well as for the courage of Tom
Eccles. It was all very well to look on at some distance, and observe
the wonderful and inexplicable proceedings of the vampyre; but when he
showed symptoms of making a nearer acquaintance, it was not to be borne. "Why, he's coming here," said Tom.--"He seems so indeed," remarked
Marchdale. "Do you mean to stay?" --"I think I shall." "You do, do you?" --"Yes, I should much like to question him, and as we
are two to one I think we really can have nothing to fear." "Do you? I'm altogether of a different opinion. A man who has more lives
than a cat don't much mind at what odds he fights. You may stay if you
like." --"You do not mean to say that you will desert me?" "I don't see a bit how you call it deserting you; if we had come out
together on this adventure, I would have stayed it out with you; but as
we came separate and independent, we may as well go back so." --"Well,
but--"

"Good morning?" cried Tom, and he at once took to his heels towards the
town, without staying to pay any attention to the remonstrances of
Marchdale, who called after him in vain. Sir Francis Varney, probably, had Tom Eccles not gone off so rapidly,
would have yet taken another thought, and gone in another direction than
that which led him to the ruins, and Tom, if he had had his senses fully
about him, as well as all his powers of perception, would have seen that
the progress of the vampyre was very slow, while he continued to
converse with Marchdale, and that it was only when he went off at good
speed that Sir Francis Varney likewise thought it prudent to do so. "Is he much terrified?" said Varney, as he came up to Marchdale.--"Yes,
most completely." "This then, will make a good story in the town." --"It will, indeed, and
not a little enhance your reputation." "Well, well; it don't much matter now; but if by terrifying people I can
purchase for myself anything like immunity for the past, I shall be
satisfied." --"I think you may now safely reckon that you have done so. This man who has fled with so much precipitation, had courage." "Unquestionably." --"Or else he would have shrunk from coming here at
all." "True, but his courage and presence arose from his strong doubts as to
the existence of such beings as vampyres." --"Yes, and now that he is
convinced, his bravery has evaporated along with his doubts; and such a
tale as he has now to tell, will be found sufficient to convert even the
most sceptical in the town." "I hope so." --"And yet it cannot much avail you." "Not personally, but I must confess that I am not dead to all human
opinions, and I feel some desire of revenge against those dastards who
by hundreds have hunted me, burnt down my mansion, and sought my
destruction." --"That I do not wonder at." "I would fain leave among them a legacy of fear. Such fear as shall
haunt them and their children for years to come. I would wish that the
name of Varney, the vampire, should be a sound of terror for
generations." --"It will be so." "It shall." --"And now, then, for a consideration of what is to be done
with our prisoner. What is your resolve upon that point?" "I have considered it while I was lying upon yon green sward waiting for
the friendly moonbeams to fall upon my face, and it seems to me that
there is no sort of resource but to----"--"Kill him?" "No, no." --"What then?" "To set him free." --"Nay, have you considered the immense hazard of
doing so? Think again; I pray you think again. I am decidedly of opinion
that he more than suspects who are his enemies; and, in that case, you
know what consequences would ensue; besides, have we not enough already
to encounter? Why should we add another young, bold, determined spirit
to the band which is already arrayed against us?" "You talk in vain, Marchdale; I know to what it all tends; you have a
strong desire for the death of this young man." --"No; there you wrong
me. I have no desire for his death, for its own sake; but, where great
interests are at stake, there must be sacrifices made." "So there must; therefore, I will make a sacrifice, and let this young
prisoner free from his dungeon." --"If such be your determination, I know
well it is useless to combat with it. When do you purpose giving him his
freedom?" "I will not act so heedlessly as that your principles of caution shall
blame me. I will attempt to get from him some promise that he will not
make himself an active instrument against me. Perchance, too, as
Bannerworth Hall, which he is sure to visit, wears such an air of
desertion, I may be able to persuade him that the Bannerworth family, as
well as his uncle, have left this part of the country altogether; so
that, without making any inquiry for them about the neighbourhood, he
may be induced to leave at once." --"That would be well." "Good; your prudence approves of the plan, and therefore it shall be
done." --"I am rather inclined to think," said Marchdale, with a slight
tone of sarcasm, "that if my prudence did not approve of the plan, it
would still be done." "Most probably," said Varney, calmly.--"Will you release him to-night?" "It is morning, now, and soon the soft grey light of day will tint the
east. I do not think I will release him till sunset again now. Has he
provision to last him until then?" --"He has." "Well, then, two hours after sunset I will come here and release him
from his weary bondage, and now I must go to find some place in which to
hide my proscribed head.