As well as the admiral, Mr. Chillingworth, and Marchdale,
Jack Pringle, too, walked in, by the sufferance of his master, as if he
considered he had a perfect right to do so. The occasion of the meeting had been a communication which Flora had
made concerning her most singular and deeply interesting interview with
the vampyre. The details of this interview had produced a deep effect
upon the whole of the family. Flora was there, and she looked better,
calmer, and more collected than she had done for some days past. No doubt the interview she had had with Varney in the summer-house in
the garden had dispelled a host of imaginary terrors with which she had
surrounded him, although it had confirmed her fully that he and he only
was the dreadful being who had caused her so much misery. That interview had tended to show her that about him there was yet
something human, and that there was not a danger of her being hunted
down from place to place by so horrible an existence. Such a feeling as this was, of course, a source of deep consolation; and
with a firmer voice, and more of her old spirit of cheerfulness about
her than she had lately exhibited, she again detailed the particulars of
the interview to all who had assembled, concluding by saying,--

"And this has given me hope of happier days. If it be a delusion, it is
a happy one; and now that but a frightful veil of mystery still hangs
over the fate of Charles Holland, I how gladly would I bid adieu to this
place, and all that has made it terrible. I could almost pity Sir
Francis Varney, rather than condemn him." "That may be true," said Henry, "to a certain extent, sister; but we
never can forget the amount of misery he has brought upon us. It is no
slight thing to be forced from our old and much-loved home, even if such
proceeding does succeed in freeing us from his persecutions." "But, my young friend," said Marchdale, "you must recollect, that
through life it is continually the lot of humanity to be endeavouring to
fly from great evils to those which do not present themselves to the
mind in so bad an aspect. It is something, surely, to alleviate
affliction, if we cannot entirely remove it." "That is true," said Mr. Chillingworth, "to a considerable extent, but
then it takes too much for granted to please me." "How so, sir?" "Why, certainly, to remove from Bannerworth Hall is a much less evil
than to remain at Bannerworth Hall, and be haunted by a vampyre; but
then that proposition takes for granted that vampyre business, which I
will never grant. I repeat, again and again, it is contrary to all
experience, to philosophy, and to all the laws of ordinary nature." "Facts are stubborn things," said Marchdale. "Apparently," remarked Mr. Chillingworth. "Well, sir; and here we have the fact of a vampyre." "The presumed fact. One swallow don't make a summer, Mr. Marchdale." "This is waste of time," said Henry--"of course, the amount of evidence
that will suffice to bring conviction to one man's mind will fail in
doing so to another. The question is, what are we to do?" All eyes were turned upon Flora, as if this question was more
particularly addressed to her, and it behoved her, above all others, to
answer it. She did so; and in a firm, clear voice, she said,--

"I will discover the fate of Charles Holland, and then leave the Hall." "The fate of Charles Holland!" said Marchdale. "Why, really, unless that
young gentleman chooses to be communicative himself upon so interesting
a subject, we may be a long while discovering his fate. I know that it
is not a romantic view to take of the question, to suppose simply that
he wrote the three letters found upon his dressing-table, and then
decamped; but to my mind, it savours most wonderfully of matter-of-fact. I now speak more freely than I have otherwise done, for I am now upon
the eve of my departure. I have no wish to remain here, and breed
dissension in any family, or to run a tilt against anybody's
prejudices." Here he looked at Admiral Bell. "I leave this house
to-night." "You're a d----d lubberly thief," said the admiral; "the sooner you
leave it the better. Why, you bad-looking son of a gun, what do you
mean? I thought we'd had enough of that." "I fully expected this abuse," said Marchdale. "Did you expect that?" said the admiral, as he snatched up an inkstand,
and threw at Marchdale, hitting him a hard knock on the chin, and
bespattering its contents on his breast. "Now I'll give you
satisfaction, you lubber. D--me, if you ain't a second Jones, and enough
to sink the ship. Shiver my timbers if I sha'n't say something strong
presently." "I really," said Henry, "must protest, Admiral Bell, against this
conduct." "Protest and be d----d."

"Mr. Marchdale may be right, sir, or he may be wrong, it's a matter of
opinion." "Oh, never mind," said Marchdale; "I look upon this old nautical ruffian
as something between a fool and a madman. If he were a younger man I
should chastise him upon the spot; but as it is I live in hopes yet of
getting him into some comfortable lunatic asylum." "Me into an asylum!" shouted the admiral. "Jack, did you hear that?" "Ay, ay, sir." "Farewell all of you," said Marchdale; "my best wishes be with this
family. I cannot remain under this roof to be so insulted." "A good riddance," cried the admiral. "I'd rather sail round the world
with a shipload of vampyres than with such a humbugging son of a gun as
you are. D----e, you're worse than a lawyer." "Nay, nay," cried they, "Mr. Marchdale, stay." "Stay, stay," cried George, and Mrs. Bannerworth, likewise, said stay;
but at the moment Flora stepped forward, and in a clear voice she
said,--

"No, let him go, he doubts Charles Holland; let all go who doubt Charles
Holland. Mr. Marchdale, Heaven forgive you this injustice you are doing. We may never meet again. Farewell, sir!" These words were spoken in so decided a tone, that no one contradicted
them. Marchdale cast a strange kind of look round upon the family
circle, and in another instant he was gone. "Huzza!" shouted Jack Pringle; "that's one good job." Henry looked rather resentful, which the admiral could not but observe,
and so, less with the devil-may-care manner in which he usually spoke,
the old man addressed him. "Hark ye, Mr. Henry Bannerworth, you ain't best pleased with me, and in
that case I don't know that I shall stay to trouble you any longer, as
for your friend who has left you, sooner or later you'll find him out--I
tell you there's no good in that fellow. Do you think I've been cruizing
about for a matter of sixty years, and don't know an honest man when I
see him. But never mind, I'm going on a voyage of discovery for my
nephew, and you can do as you like." "Heaven only knows, Admiral Bell," said Henry, "who is right and who is
wrong. I do much regret that you have quarrelled with Mr. Marchdale; but
what is done can't be undone."