"Be it so," said the vampyre; and he clasped his hands, as if with a
thankfulness that he had done so much towards restoring peace at least
to one, who, in consequence of his acts, had felt such exquisite
despair. "Be it so; and even I will hope that the feelings which have
induced so desolated and so isolated a being as myself to endeavour to
bring peace to one human heart, will plead for me, trumpet-tongued, to
Heaven!" "It will--it will," said Flora. "Do you think so?" "I do; and I will pray that the thought may turn to certainty in such a
cause." The vampyre appeared to be much affected; and then he added,--

"Flora, you know that this spot has been the scene of a catastrophe
fearful to look back upon, in the annals of your family?" "It has," said Flora. "I know to what you allude; 'tis a matter of
common knowledge to all--a sad theme to me, and one I would not court." "Nor would I oppress you with it. Your father, here, on this very spot,
committed that desperate act which brought him uncalled for to the
judgment seat of God. I have a strange, wild curiosity upon such
subjects. Will you, in return for the good that I have tried to do you,
gratify it?" "I know not what you mean," said Flora. "To be more explicit, then, do you remember the day on which your father
breathed his last?" "Too well--too well." "Did you see him or converse with him shortly before that desperate act
was committed?" "No; he shut himself up for some time in a solitary chamber." "Ha! what chamber?" "The one in which I slept myself on the night--"

"Yes, yes; the one with the portrait--that speaking portrait--the eyes
of which seem to challenge an intruder as he enters the apartment." "The same." "For hours shut up there!" added Varney, musingly; "and from thence he
wandered to the garden, where, in this summer-house, he breathed his
last?" "It was so." "Then, Flora, ere I bid you adieu--"

These words were scarcely uttered, when there was a quick, hasty
footstep, and Henry Bannerworth appeared behind Varney, in the very
entrance of the summer-house. "Now," he cried, "for revenge! Now, foul being, blot upon the earth's
surface, horrible imitation of humanity, if mortal arm can do aught
against you, you shall die!" A shriek came from the lips of Flora, and flinging herself past Varney,
who stepped aside, she clung to her brother, who made an unavailing pass
with his sword at the vampyre. It was a critical moment; and had the
presence of mind of Varney deserted him in the least, unarmed as he was,
he must have fallen beneath the weapon of Henry. To spring, however, up
the seat which Flora had vacated, and to dash out some of the flimsy and
rotten wood-work at the back of the summer-house by the propulsive power
of his whole frame, was the work of a moment; and before Henry could
free himself from the clinging embrace of Flora, Varney, the vampyre was
gone, and there was no greater chance of his capture than on a former
occasion, when he was pursued in vain from the Hall to the wood, in the
intricacies of which he was so entirely lost. CHAPTER XXXV. THE EXPLANATION.--MARCHDALE'S ADVICE.--THE PROJECTED REMOVAL, AND THE
ADMIRAL'S ANGER. [Illustration]

This extremely sudden movement on the part of Varney was certainly as
unexpected as it was decisive. Henry had imagined, that by taking
possession of the only entrance to the summer-house, he must come into
personal conflict with the being who had worked so much evil for him and
his; and that he should so suddenly have created for himself another
mode of exit, certainly never occurred to him. "For Heaven's sake, Flora," he said, "unhand me; this is a time for
action." "But, Henry, Henry, hear me." "Presently, presently, dear Flora; I will yet make another effort to
arrest the headlong flight of Varney." He shook her off, perhaps with not more roughness than was necessary to
induce her to forego her grasp of him, but in a manner that fully showed
he intended to be free; and then he sprang through the same aperture
whence Varney had disappeared, just as George and Mr. Marchdale arrived
at the door of the summer-house. It was nearly morning, so that the fields were brightening up with the
faint radiance of the coming day; and when Henry reached a point which
he knew commanded an extensive view, he paused, and ran his eye eagerly
along the landscape, with a hope of discovering some trace of the
fugitive. Such, however, was not the case; he saw nothing, heard nothing of Sir
Francis Varney; and then he turned, and called loudly to George to join
him, and was immediately replied to by his brother's presence,
accompanied by Marchdale. Before, however, they could exchange a word, a rattling discharge of
fire-arms took place from one of the windows, and they heard the
admiral, in a loud voice, shouting,--

"Broadside to broadside! Give it them again, Jack! Hit them between wind
and water!" Then there was another rattling discharge, and Henry exclaimed,--

"What is the meaning of that firing?" "It comes from the admiral's room," said Marchdale. "On my life, I think
the old man must be mad. He has some six or eight pistols ranged in a
row along the window-sill, and all loaded, so that by the aid of a match
they can be pretty well discharged as a volley, which he considers the
only proper means of firing upon the vampyre." "It is so," replied George; "and, no doubt, hearing an alarm, he has
commenced operations by firing into the enemy." "Well, well," said Henry; "he must have his way. I have pursued Varney
thus far, and that he has again retreated to the wood, I cannot doubt. Between this and the full light of day, let us at least make an effort
to discover his place of retreat. We know the locality as well as he can
possibly, and I propose now that we commence an active search." "Come on, then," said Marchdale. "We are all armed; and I, for one,
shall feel no hesitation in taking the life, if it be possible to do so,
of that strange being." "Of that possibility you doubt?" said George, as they hurried on across
the meadows. "Indeed I do, and with reason too. I'm certain that when I fired at him
before I hit him; and besides, Flora must have shot him upon the
occasion when we were absent, and she used your pistols Henry, to defend
herself and her mother." "It would seem so," said Henry; "and disregarding all present
circumstances, if I do meet him, I will put to the proof whether he be
mortal or not." The distance was not great, and they soon reached the margin of the
wood; they then separated agreeing to meet within it, at a well-spring,
familiar to them all: previous to which each was to make his best
endeavour to discover if any one was hidden among the bush-wood or in
the hollows of the ancient trees they should encounter on their line of
march.