They might all have spared themselves the trouble, for the coffin was
empty--here was no dead butcher, nor any evidence of one ever having
been there, not even the grave-clothes; the only thing at all in the
receptacle of the dead was a brick. Dick's astonishment was so intense that his eyes and mouth kept opening
together to such an extent, that it seemed doubtful when they would
reach their extreme point of elongation. He then took up the brick and
looked at it curiously, and turned it over and over, examined the ends
and the sides with a critical eye, and at length he said,--

"Well, I'm blowed, here's a transmogrification; he's consolidified
himself into a blessed brick--my eye, here's a curiosity." "But you don't mean to say that's the butcher, Dick?" said the boy. Dick reached over, and gave him a tap on the head with the brick. "There!" he said, "that's what I calls occular demonstration. Do you
believe it now, you blessed infidel? What's more natural? He was an
out-and-out brick while he was alive; and he's turned to a brick now
he's dead." "Give it to me, Dick," said the boy; "I should like to have that brick,
just for the fun of the thing." "I'll see you turned into a pantile first. I sha'n't part with this
here, it looks so blessed sensible; it's a gaining on me every minute as
a most remarkable likeness, d----d if it ain't." By this time the bewilderment of the mob had subsided; now that there
was no dead butcher to look upon, they fancied themselves most
grievously injured; and, somehow or other, Dick, notwithstanding all his
exertions in their service, was looked upon in the light of a showman,
who had promised some startling exhibition and then had disappointed his
auditors. The first intimation he had of popular vengeance was a stone thrown at
him, but Dick's eye happened to be upon the fellow who threw it, and
collaring him in a moment, he dealt him a cuff on the side of the head,
which confused his faculties for a week. "Hark ye," he then cried, with a loud voice, "don't interfere with me;
you know it won't go down. There's something wrong here; and, as one of
yourselves, I'm as much interested in finding out what it is as any of
you can possibly be. There seems to be some truth in this vampyre
business; our old friend, the butcher, you see, is not in his grave;
where is he then?" The mob looked at each other, and none attempted to answer the question. "Why, of course, he's a vampyre," said Dick, "and you may all of you
expect to see him, in turn, come into your bed-room windows with a
burst, and lay hold of you like a million and a half of leeches rolled
into one." There was a general expression of horror, and then Dick continued,--

"You'd better all of you go home; I shall have no hand in pulling up any
more of the coffins--this is a dose for me. Of course you can do what
you like." [Illustration]

"Pull them all up!" cried a voice; "pull them all up! Let's see how many
vampyres there are in the churchyard." "Well, it's no business of mine," said Dick; "but I wouldn't, if I was
you." "You may depend," said one, "that Dick knows something about it, or he
wouldn't take it so easy." "Ah! down with him," said the man who had received the box on the ears;
"he's perhaps a vampyre himself." The mob made a demonstration towards him, but Dick stood his ground, and
they paused again. "Now, you're a cowardly set," he said; "cause you're disappointed, you
want to come upon me. Now, I'll just show what a little thing will
frighten you all again, and I warn beforehand it will, so you sha'n't
say you didn't know it, and were taken by surprise." The mob looked at him, wondering what he was going to do. "Once! twice! thrice!" he said, and then he flung the brick up into the
air an immense height, and shouted "heads," in a loud tone. A general dispersion of the crowd ensued, and the brick fell in the
centre of a very large circle indeed. "There you are again," said Dick; "why, what a nice act you are!" "What fun!" said the boy. "It's a famous coffin, this, Dick," and he
laid himself down in the butcher's last resting-place. "I never was in a
coffin before--it's snug enough." "Ah, you're a rum 'un," said Dick; "you're such a inquiring genius, you
is; you'll get your head into some hole one day, and not be able to get
it out again, and then I shall see you a kicking. Hush! lay still--don't
say anything." "Good again," said the boy; "what shall I do?" "Give a sort of a howl and a squeak, when they've all come back again." "Won't I!" said the boy; "pop on the lid." "There you are," said Dick; "d----d if I don't adopt you, and bring you
up to the science of nothing." "Now, listen to me, good people all," added Dick; "I have really got
something to say to you." At this intimation the people slowly gathered again round the grave. "Listen," said Dick, solemnly; "it strikes me there's some tremendous do
going on." "Yes, there is," said several who were foremost. "It won't be long before you'll all of you be most d--nably astonished;
but let me beg of all you not to accuse me of having anything to do with
it, provided I tell you all I know." "No, Dick; we won't--we won't--we won't." "Good; then, listen. I don't know anything, but I'll tell you what I
think, and that's as good; I don't think that this brick is the butcher;
but I think, that when you least expect it--hush! come a little closer." "Yes, yes; we are closer." "Well, then, I say, when you all least expect it, and when you ain't
dreaming of such a thing, you'll hear something of my fat friend as is
dead and gone, that will astonish you all." Dick paused, and he gave the coffin a slight kick, as intimation to the
boy that he might as well be doing his part in the drama, upon which
that ingenious young gentleman set up such a howl, that even Dick
jumped, so unearthly did it sound within the confines of that receptacle
of the dead. But if the effect upon him was great, what must it have been upon those
whom it took completely unawares? For a moment or two they seemed
completely paralysed, and then they frightened the boy, for the shout of
terror that rose from so many throats at once was positively alarming. This jest of Dick's was final, for, before three minutes had elapsed,
the churchyard was clear of all human occupants save himself and the
boy, who had played his part so well in the coffin. "Get out," said Dick, "it's all right--we've done 'em at last; and now
you may depend upon it they won't be in a hurry to come here again. You
keep your own counsel, or else somebody will serve you out for this. I
don't think you're altogether averse to a bit of fun, and if you keep
yourself quiet, you'll have the satisfaction of hearing what's said
about this affair in every pot-house in the village, and no mistake." CHAPTER XLVI. THE PREPARATIONS FOR LEAVING BANNERWORTH HALL, AND THE MYSTERIOUS
CONDUCT OF THE ADMIRAL AND MR. CHILLINGWORTH.