he cried. "Let me go! How do I know but you may be a
vampyre by now, as you were shot by one." Henry soonest recovered from the surprise of the moment, and with the
most unfeigned satisfaction, he cried,--

"Thank God you are unhurt, Dr. Chillingworth! Why he must have missed
you by a miracle." "Not at all," said the doctor. "Help me up--thank you--all right. I'm
only a little singed about the whiskers. He hit me safe enough." "Then how have you escaped?" "Why from the want of a bullet in the pistol, to be sure. I can
understand it all well enough. He wanted to create sufficient confusion
to cover a desperate attempt to escape, and he thought that would be
best done by seeming so shoot me. The suddenness of the shock, and the
full belief, at the moment, that he had sent a bullet into my brains,
made me fall, and produced a temporary confusion of ideas, amounting to
insensibility." "From which you are happily recovered. Thank Heaven that, after all, he
is not such a villain as this act would have made him." "Ah!" said the admiral, "it takes people who have lived a little in
these affairs to know the difference in sound between a firearm with a
bullet in it, and one without. I knew it was all right." "Then why did you not say so, admiral?" "What was the use? I thought the doctor might be amused to know what you
should say of him, so you see I didn't interfere; and, as I am not a
good hand at galloping after anybody, I didn't try that part of the
business, but just remained where I was." "Alas! alas!" cried the doctor, "I much fear that, by his going, I have
lost all that I expected to be able to do for you, Henry. It's of not
the least use now telling you or troubling you about it. You may now
sell or let Bannerworth Hall to whomever you please, for I am afraid it
is really worthless." "What on earth do you mean?" said Henry. "Why, doctor, will you keep up
this mystery among us? If you have anything to say, why not say it at
once?" "Because, I tell you it's of no use now. The game is up, Sir Francis
Varney has escaped; but still I don't know that I need exactly
hesitate." "There can be no reason for your hesitating about making a communication
to us," said Henry. "It is unfriendly not to do so." "My dear boy, you will excuse me for saying that you don't know what you
are talking about." "Can you give any reason?" "Yes; respect for the living. I should have to relate something of the
dead which would be hurtful to their feelings." Henry was silent for a few moments, and then he said,--

"What dead? And who are the living?" "Another time," whispered the doctor to him; "another time, Henry. Do
not press me now. But you shall know all another time." "I must be content. But now let us remember that another man yet lingers
in Bannerworth Hall. I will endure suspense on his account no longer. He
is an intruder there; so I go at once to dislodge him." No one made any opposition to this move, not even the doctor; so Henry
preceded them all to the house. They passed through the open window into
the long hall, and from thence into every apartment of the mansion,
without finding the object of their search. But from one of the windows
up to which there grew great masses of ivy, there hung a rope, by which
any one might easily have let himself down; and no doubt, therefore,
existed in all their minds that the hangman had sufficiently profited by
the confusion incidental to the supposed shooting of the doctor, to make
good his escape from the place. "And so, after all," said Henry, "we are completely foiled?" "We may be," said Dr. Chillingworth; "but it is, perhaps, going too far
to say that we actually are. One thing, however, is quite clear; and
that is, no good can be done here." "Then let us go home," said the admiral. "I did not think from the first
that any good would be done here." They all left the garden together now; so that almost for the first
time, Bannerworth Hall was left to itself, unguarded and unwatched by
any one whatever. It was with an evident and a marked melancholy that
the doctor proceeded with the party to the cottage-house of the
Bannerworths; but, as after what he had said, Henry forbore to question
him further upon those subjects which he admitted he was keeping secret;
and as none of the party were much in a cue for general conversation,
the whole of them walked on with more silence than usually characterised
them. CHAPTER LXXXII. CHARLES HOLLAND'S PURSUIT OF THE VAMPYRE.--THE DANGEROUS INTERVIEW. [Illustration]

It will be recollected that the admiral had made a remark about Charles
Holland having suddenly disappeared; and it is for us now to account for
that disappearance and to follow him to the pathway he had chosen. The fact was, that he, when Varney fired the shot at the doctor, or what
was the supposed shot, was the farthest from the vampyre; and he, on
that very account, had the clearest and best opportunity of marking
which route he took when he had discharged the pistol. He was not confused by the smoke, as the others were; nor was he stunned
by the noise of the discharge; but he distinctly saw Varney dart across
one of the garden beds, and make for the summer-house, instead of for
the garden gate, as Henry had supposed was the most probable path he had
chosen. Now, Charles Holland either had an inclination, for some reasons of his
own, to follow the vampyre alone; or, on the spur of the moment, he had
not time to give an alarm to the others; but certain it is that he did,
unaided, rush after him. He saw him enter the summer-house, and pass out
of it again at the back portion of it, as he had once before done, when
surprised in his interview with Flora. But the vampyre did not now, as he had done on the former occasion, hide
immediately behind the summer-house. He seemed to be well aware that
that expedient would not answer twice; so he at once sped onwards,
clearing the garden fence, and taking to the meadows. It formed evidently no part of the intentions of Charles Holland to come
up with him. He was resolved upon dogging his footsteps, to know where
he should go; so that he might have a knowledge of his hiding-place, if
he had one. "I must and will," said Charles to himself, "penetrate the mystery that
hangs about this most strange and inexplicable being. I will have an
interview with him, not in hostility, for I forgive him the evil he has
done me, but with a kindly spirit; and I will ask him to confide in me." Charles, therefore, did not keep so close upon the heels of the vampyre
as to excite any suspicions of his intention to follow him; but he
waited by the garden paling long enough not only for Varney to get some
distance off, but long enough likewise to know that the pistol which had
been fired at the doctor had produced no real bad effects, except
singing some curious tufts of hair upon the sides of his face, which the
doctor was pleased to call whiskers. "I thought as much," was Charles's exclamation when he heard the
doctor's voice.