He looked pale and ill;
his face betrayed how much he had mentally suffered during that night,
and almost directly he got into the bed-chamber he said,--

"I shall, I am sure, be censured by you both for what I am going to say;
but I cannot help saying it, nevertheless, for to keep it to myself
would destroy me." "Good God, George! what is it?" said Mr. Marchdale. "Speak it out!" said Henry. "I have been thinking of what has occurred here, and the result of that
thought has been one of the wildest suppositions that ever I thought I
should have to entertain. Have you never heard of a vampyre?" Henry sighed deeply, and Marchdale was silent. "I say a vampyre," added George, with much excitement in his manner. "It
is a fearful, a horrible supposition; but our poor, dear Flora has been
visited by a vampyre, and I shall go completely mad!" He sat down, and covering his face with his hands, he wept bitterly and
abundantly. "George," said Henry, when he saw that the frantic grief had in some
measure abated--"be calm, George, and endeavour to listen to me." "I hear, Henry." "Well, then, do not suppose that you are the only one in this house to
whom so dreadful a superstition has occurred." "Not the only one?" "No; it has occurred to Mr. Marchdale also." "Gracious Heaven!" "He mentioned it to me; but we have both agreed to repudiate it with
horror." "To--repudiate--it?" "Yes, George." "And yet--and yet--"

"Hush, hush! I know what you would say. You would tell us that our
repudiation of it cannot affect the fact. Of that we are aware; but yet
will we disbelieve that which a belief in would be enough to drive us
mad." "What do you intend to do?" "To keep this supposition to ourselves, in the first place; to guard it
most zealously from the ears of Flora." "Do you think she has ever heard of vampyres?" "I never heard her mention that in all her reading she had gathered even
a hint of such a fearful superstition. If she has, we must be guided by
circumstances, and do the best we can." "Pray Heaven she may not!" "Amen to that prayer, George," said Henry. "Mr. Marchdale and I intend
to keep watch over Flora to-night." "May not I join you?" "Your health, dear George, will not permit you to engage in such
matters. Do you seek your natural repose, and leave it to us to do the
best we can in this most fearful and terrible emergency." "As you please, brother, and as you please, Mr. Marchdale. I know I am a
frail reed, and my belief is that this affair will kill me quite. The
truth is, I am horrified--utterly and frightfully horrified. Like my
poor, dear sister, I do not believe I shall ever sleep again." "Do not fancy that, George," said Marchdale. "You very much add to the
uneasiness which must be your poor mother's portion, by allowing this
circumstance to so much affect you. You well know her affection for you
all, and let me therefore, as a very old friend of hers, entreat you to
wear as cheerful an aspect as you can in her presence." "For once in my life," said George, sadly, "I will; to my dear mother,
endeavour to play the hypocrite." "Do so," said Henry. "The motive will sanction any such deceit as that,
George, be assured." The day wore on, and Poor Flora remained in a very precarious situation. It was not until mid-day that Henry made up his mind he would call in a
medical gentleman to her, and then he rode to the neighbouring
market-town, where he knew an extremely intelligent practitioner
resided. This gentleman Henry resolved upon, under a promise of secrecy,
makings confidant of; but, long before he reached him, he found he might
well dispense with the promise of secrecy. He had never thought, so engaged had he been with other matters, that
the servants were cognizant of the whole affair, and that from them he
had no expectation of being able to keep the whole story in all its
details. Of course such an opportunity for tale-bearing and gossiping
was not likely to be lost; and while Henry was thinking over how he had
better act in the matter, the news that Flora Bannerworth had been
visited in the night by a vampyre--for the servants named the visitation
such at once--was spreading all over the county. As he rode along, Henry met a gentleman on horseback who belonged to the
county, and who, reining in his steed, said to him,

"Good morning, Mr. Bannerworth." "Good morning," responded Henry, and he would have ridden on, but the
gentleman added,--

"Excuse me for interrupting you, sir; but what is the strange story that
is in everybody's mouth about a vampyre?" Henry nearly fell off his horse, he was so much astonished, and,
wheeling the animal around, he said,--

"In everybody's mouth!" "Yes; I have heard it from at least a dozen persons." "You surprise me." "It is untrue? Of course I am not so absurd as really to believe about
the vampyre; but is there no foundation at all for it? We generally find
that at the bottom of these common reports there is a something around
which, as a nucleus, the whole has formed." "My sister is unwell." "Ah, and that's all. It really is too bad, now." "We had a visitor last night." "A thief, I suppose?" "Yes, yes--I believe a thief. I do believe it was a thief, and she was
terrified." "Of course, and upon such a thing is grafted a story of a vampyre, and
the marks of his teeth being in her neck, and all the circumstantial
particulars." "Yes, yes." "Good morning, Mr. Bannerworth." Henry bade the gentleman good morning, and much vexed at the publicity
which the affair had already obtained, he set spurs to his horse,
determined that he would speak to no one else upon so uncomfortable a
theme. Several attempts were made to stop him, but he only waved his
hand and trotted on, nor did he pause in his speed till he reached the
door of Mr. Chillingworth, the medical man whom he intended to consult. Henry knew that at such a time he would be at home, which was the case,
and he was soon closeted with the man of drugs. Henry begged his patient
hearing, which being accorded, he related to him at full length what had
happened, not omitting, to the best of his remembrance, any one
particular. When he had concluded his narration, the doctor shifted his
position several times, and then said,--

"That's all?" "Yes--and enough too." "More than enough, I should say, my young friend. You astonish me." "Can you form any supposition, sir, on the subject?" "Not just now. What is your own idea?" "I cannot be said to have one about it. It is too absurd to tell you
that my brother George is impressed with a belief a vampyre has visited
the house." "I never in all my life heard a more circumstantial narrative in favour
of so hideous a superstition." "Well, but you cannot believe--"

"Believe what?" "That the dead can come to life again, and by such a process keep up
vitality." "Do you take me for a fool?" "Certainly not." "Then why do you ask me such questions?" "But the glaring facts of the case." "I don't care if they were ten times more glaring, I won't believe it.