CHAPTER LXX.--THE FUNERAL OF THE STRANGER OF THE INN.--THE POPULAR
COMMOTION, AND MRS. CHILLINGWORTH'S APPEAL TO THE MOB.--THE NEW
RIOT.--THE HALL IN DANGER. CHAPTER LXXI.--THE STRANGE MEETING AT THE HALL BETWEEN MR.
CHILLINGWORTH AND THE MYSTERIOUS FRIEND OF VARNEY. CHAPTER LXXII.--THE STRANGE STORY.--THE ARRIVAL OF THE MOB AT THE HALL,
AND THEIR DISPERSION. CHAPTER LXXIII.--THE VISIT OF THE VAMPIRE.--THE GENERAL MEETING. CHAPTER LXXIV.--THE MEETING OF CHARLES AND FLORA. CHAPTER LXXV.--MUTUAL EXPLANATIONS, AND THE VISIT TO THE RUINS. CHAPTER LXXVI.--THE SECOND NIGHT-WATCH OF MR. CHILLINGWORTH AT THE
HALL. CHAPTER LXXVII.--VARNEY IN THE GARDEN.--THE COMMUNICATION OF DR.
CHILLINGWORTH TO THE ADMIRAL AND HENRY. CHAPTER LXXVIII.--THE ALTERCATION BETWEEN VARNEY AND THE EXECUTIONER IN
THE HALL.--THE MUTUAL AGREEMENT. CHAPTER LXXIX.--THE VAMPYRE'S DANGER.--THE LAST REFUGE.--THE RUSE OF
HENRY BANNERWORTH. CHAPTER LXXX.--THE DISCOVERY OF THE BODY OF MARCHDALE IN THE RUINS BY
THE MOB.--THE BURNING OF THE CORPSE.--THE MURDER OF THE HANGMAN. CHAPTER LXXXI.--THE VAMPYRE'S FLIGHT.--HIS DANGER, AND THE LAST PLACE
OF REFUGE. CHAPTER LXXXII.--CHARLES HOLLAND'S PURSUIT OF THE VAMPYRE.--THE
DANGEROUS INTERVIEW. CHAPTER LXXXIII.--THE MYSTERIOUS ARRIVAL AT THE INN.--THE HUNGARIAN
NOBLEMAN.--THE LETTER TO VARNEY. CHAPTER LXXXIV.--THE EXCITED POPULACE.--VARNEY HUNTED.--THE PLACE OF
REFUGE. CHAPTER LXXXV.--THE HUNGARIAN NOBLEMAN GETS INTO DANGER.--HE IS FIRED
AT, AND SHOWS SOME OF HIS QUALITY. CHAPTER LXXXVI.--THE DISCOVERY OF THE POCKET BOOK OF MARMADUKE
BANNERWORTH.--ITS MYSTERIOUS CONTENTS. CHAPTER LXXXVII.--THE HUNT FOR VARNEY.--THE HOUSE-TOPS.--THE MIRACULOUS
ESCAPE.--THE LAST PLACE OF REFUGE.--THE COTTAGE. CHAPTER LXXXVIII.--THE RECEPTION OF THE VAMPYRE BY FLORA.--VARNEY
SUBDUED. CHAPTER LXXXIX.--TELLS WHAT BECAME OF THE SECOND VAMPYRE WHO SOUGHT
VARNEY. CHAPTER XC.--DR. CHILLINGWORTH AT THE HALL.--THE ENCOUNTER OF
MYSTERY.--THE CONFLICT.--THE RESCUE, AND THE PICTURE. CHAPTER XCI.--THE GRAND CONSULTATION BROKEN UP BY MRS. CHILLINGWORTH,
AND THE DISAPPEARANCE OF VARNEY. CHAPTER XCII.--THE MISADVENTURE OF THE DOCTOR WITH THE PICTURE. CHAPTER XCIII.--THE ALARM AT ANDERBURY.--THE SUSPICIONS OF THE
BANNERWORTH FAMILY, AND THE MYSTERIOUS COMMUNICATION. CHAPTER XCIV.--THE VISITOR, AND THE DEATH IN THE SUBTERRANEAN PASSAGE. CHAPTER XCV.--THE MARRIAGE IN THE BANNERWORTH FAMILY ARRANGED. CHAPTER XCVI.--THE BARON TAKES ANDERBURY HOUSE, AND DECIDES UPON GIVING
A GRAND ENTERTAINMENT. PREFACE


The unprecedented success of the romance of "Varney the Vampyre," leaves
the Author but little to say further, than that he accepts that success
and its results as gratefully as it is possible for any one to do
popular favours. A belief in the existence of Vampyres first took its rise in Norway and
Sweden, from whence it rapidly spread to more southern regions, taking a
firm hold of the imaginations of the more credulous portion of mankind. The following romance is collected from seemingly the most authentic
sources, and the Author must leave the question of credibility entirely
to his readers, not even thinking that he is peculiarly called upon to
express his own opinion upon the subject. Nothing has been omitted in the life of the unhappy Varney, which could
tend to throw a light upon his most extraordinary career, and the fact
of his death just as it is here related, made a great noise at the time
through Europe and is to be found in the public prints for the year
1713. With these few observations, the Author and Publisher, are well content
to leave the work in the hands of a public, which has stamped it with an
approbation far exceeding their most sanguine expectations, and which is
calculated to act as the strongest possible incentive to the production
of other works, which in a like, or perchance a still further degree may
be deserving of public patronage and support. To the whole of the Metropolitan Press for their laudatory notices, the
Author is peculiarly obliged. _London Sep. 1847_




VARNEY, THE VAMPYRE;

OR

THE FEAST OF BLOOD

A Romance




CHAPTER I. ----"How graves give up their dead. And how the night air hideous grows
    With shrieks!" MIDNIGHT.--THE HAIL-STORM.--THE DREADFUL VISITOR.--THE VAMPYRE. [Illustration]

The solemn tones of an old cathedral clock have announced midnight--the
air is thick and heavy--a strange, death like stillness pervades all
nature. Like the ominous calm which precedes some more than usually
terrific outbreak of the elements, they seem to have paused even in
their ordinary fluctuations, to gather a terrific strength for the great
effort. A faint peal of thunder now comes from far off. Like a signal
gun for the battle of the winds to begin, it appeared to awaken them
from their lethargy, and one awful, warring hurricane swept over a whole
city, producing more devastation in the four or five minutes it lasted,
than would a half century of ordinary phenomena. It was as if some giant had blown upon some toy town, and scattered many
of the buildings before the hot blast of his terrific breath; for as
suddenly as that blast of wind had come did it cease, and all was as
still and calm as before. Sleepers awakened, and thought that what they had heard must be the
confused chimera of a dream. They trembled and turned to sleep again. All is still--still as the very grave. Not a sound breaks the magic of
repose. What is that--a strange, pattering noise, as of a million of
fairy feet? It is hail--yes, a hail-storm has burst over the city. Leaves are dashed from the trees, mingled with small boughs; windows
that lie most opposed to the direct fury of the pelting particles of ice
are broken, and the rapt repose that before was so remarkable in its
intensity, is exchanged for a noise which, in its accumulation, drowns
every cry of surprise or consternation which here and there arose from
persons who found their houses invaded by the storm. Now and then, too, there would come a sudden gust of wind that in its
strength, as it blew laterally, would, for a moment, hold millions of
the hailstones suspended in mid air, but it was only to dash them with
redoubled force in some new direction, where more mischief was to be
done. Oh, how the storm raged! Hail--rain--wind. It was, in very truth, an
awful night. *       *       *       *       *

There is an antique chamber in an ancient house. Curious and quaint
carvings adorn the walls, and the large chimney-piece is a curiosity of
itself. The ceiling is low, and a large bay window, from roof to floor,
looks to the west. The window is latticed, and filled with curiously
painted glass and rich stained pieces, which send in a strange, yet
beautiful light, when sun or moon shines into the apartment. There is
but one portrait in that room, although the walls seem panelled for the
express purpose of containing a series of pictures.