A wild expression came over the face of Flora; a spasmodic action of the
muscles, accompanied with a shuddering, as if a sudden chill had come
over the whole mass of blood took place, and she said,--

"It is the mark left by the teeth of the vampyre." The smile was a forced one upon the face of Mr. Chillingworth. "Draw up the blind of the window, Mr. Henry," he said, "and let me
examine this puncture to which your sister attaches so extraordinary a
meaning." [Illustration]

The blind was drawn up, and a strong light was thrown into the room. For
full two minutes Mr. Chillingworth attentively examined the two small
wounds in the neck of Flora. He took a powerful magnifying glass from
his pocket, and looked at them through it, and after his examination was
concluded, he said,--

"They are very trifling wounds, indeed." "But how inflicted?" said Henry. "By some insect, I should say, which probably--it being the season for
many insects--has flown in at the window." "I know the motive," said Flora "which prompts all these suggestions it
is a kind one, and I ought to be the last to quarrel with it; but what I
have seen, nothing can make me believe I saw not, unless I am, as once
or twice I have thought myself, really mad." "How do you now feel in general health?" "Far from well; and a strange drowsiness at times creeps over me. Even
now I feel it." She sunk back on the pillows as she spoke and closed her eyes with a
deep sigh. Mr. Chillingworth beckoned Henry to come with him from the room, but the
latter had promised that he would remain with Flora; and as Mrs.
Bannerworth had left the chamber because she was unable to control her
feelings, he rang the bell, and requested that his mother would come. She did so, and then Henry went down stairs along with the medical man,
whose opinion he was certainly eager to be now made acquainted with. As soon as they were alone in an old-fashioned room which was called the
oak closet, Henry turned to Mr. Chillingworth, and said,--

"What, now, is your candid opinion, sir? You have seen my sister, and
those strange indubitable evidences of something wrong." "I have; and to tell you candidly the truth, Mr. Henry, I am sorely
perplexed." "I thought you would be." "It is not often that a medical man likes to say so much, nor is it,
indeed, often prudent that he should do so, but in this case I own I am
much puzzled. It is contrary to all my notions upon all such subjects." "Those wounds, what do you think of them?" "I know not what to think. I am completely puzzled as regards them." "But, but do they not really bear the appearance of being bites?" "They really do." "And so far, then, they are actually in favour of the dreadful
supposition which poor Flora entertains." "So far they certainly are. I have no doubt in the world of their being
bites; but we not must jump to a conclusion that the teeth which
inflicted them were human. It is a strange case, and one which I feel
assured must give you all much uneasiness, as, indeed, it gave me; but,
as I said before, I will not let my judgment give in to the fearful and
degrading superstition which all the circumstances connected with this
strange story would seem to justify." "It is a degrading superstition." "To my mind your sister seems to be labouring under the effect of some
narcotic." "Indeed!" "Yes; unless she really has lost a quantity of blood, which loss has
decreased the heart's action sufficiently to produce the languor under
which she now evidently labours." "Oh, that I could believe the former supposition, but I am confident she
has taken no narcotic; she could not even do so by mistake, for there is
no drug of the sort in the house. Besides, she is not heedless by any
means. I am quite convinced she has not done so." "Then I am fairly puzzled, my young friend, and I can only say that I
would freely have given half of what I am worth to see that figure you
saw last night." "What would you have done?" "I would not have lost sight of it for the world's wealth." "You would have felt your blood freeze with horror. The face was
terrible." "And yet let it lead me where it liked I would have followed it." "I wish you had been here." "I wish to Heaven I had. If I though there was the least chance of
another visit I would come and wait with patience every night for a
month." "I cannot say," replied Henry. "I am going to sit up to-night with my
sister, and I believe, our friend Mr. Marchdale will share my watch with
me." Mr. Chillingworth appeared to be for a few moments lost in thought, and
then suddenly rousing himself, as if he found it either impossible to
come to any rational conclusion upon the subject, or had arrived at one
which he chose to keep to himself, he said,--

"Well, well, we must leave the matter at present as it stands. Time may
accomplish something towards its development, but at present so palpable
a mystery I never came across, or a matter in which human calculation
was so completely foiled." "Nor I--nor I." "I will send you some medicines, such as I think will be of service to
Flora, and depend upon seeing me by ten o'clock to-morrow morning." "You have, of course, heard something," said Henry to the doctor, as he
was pulling on his gloves, "about vampyres." "I certainly have, and I understand that in some countries, particularly
Norway and Sweden, the superstition is a very common one." "And in the Levant." "Yes. The ghouls of the Mahometans are of the same description of
beings. All that I have heard of the European vampyre has made it a
being which can be killed, but is restored to life again by the rays of
a full moon falling on the body." "Yes, yes, I have heard as much." "And that the hideous repast of blood has to be taken very frequently,
and that if the vampyre gets it not he wastes away, presenting the
appearance of one in the last stage of a consumption, and visibly, so to
speak, dying." "That is what I have understood." "To-night, do you know, Mr. Bannerworth, is the full of the moon." Henry started. "If now you had succeeded in killing--. Pshaw, what am I saying. I
believe I am getting foolish, and that the horrible superstition is
beginning to fasten itself upon me as well as upon all of you. How
strangely the fancy will wage war with the judgment in such a way as
this." "The full of the moon," repeated Henry, as he glanced towards the
window, "and the night is near at hand." "Banish these thoughts from your mind," said the doctor, "or else, my
young friend, you will make yourself decidedly ill. Good evening to you,
for it is evening. I shall see you to-morrow morning." Mr. Chillingworth appeared now to be anxious to go, and Henry no longer
opposed his departure; but when he was gone a sense of great loneliness
came over him. "To-night," he repeated, "is the full of the moon. How strange that this
dreadful adventure should have taken place just the night before. 'Tis
very strange. Let me see--let me see."