"Why, you see, sir, this hangman drew a heavy sum yearly from him; thus
making him only a mine of wealth to himself; this, no doubt, would
rankle in the other's heart, to think he should be so beset, and hold
life upon such terms." "I see, now." "Yes; and then came the consideration that he did not do it from any
good motive, merely a selfish one, and he was consequently under no
obligation to him for what he had done; besides, self-preservation might
urge him on, and tell him to do the deed. "However that may be, Montgomery dreaded it, and was resolved to punish
the deed if he could not prevent it. He, therefore, left general orders
with his wife, whenever he went on a journey to Varney, if he should be
gone beyond a certain time, she was to open a certain drawer, and take
out a sealed packet to the magistrate at the chief office, who would
attend to it. "He has been missing, and his wife did as she was desired, and now we
have found what he there mentioned to be true; but, now, sir, I have
satisfied you and explained to you why we intruded upon you, we must now
leave and seek for him elsewhere." "It is most extraordinary, and that is the reason why his complexion is
so singular." "Very likely." They poured out some wine, which was handed to the officers, who drank
and then quitted the house, leaving the inmates in a state of
stupefaction, from surprise and amazement at what they had heard from
the officers. There was a strange feeling came over them when they recollected the
many occurrences they had witnessed, and even the explanation of the
officers; it seemed as if some mist had enveloped objects and rendered
them indistinct, but which was fast rising, and they were becoming
plainer and more distinct every moment in which they were regarded. There was a long pause, and Flora was about to speak, when suddenly
there came the sound of a footstep across the garden. It was slow but
unsteady, and paused between whiles until it came close beneath the
windows. They remained silent, and then some one was heard to climb up
the rails of the veranda, and then the curtains were thrust aside, but
not till after the person outside had paused to ascertain who was there. Then the curtains were opened, and the visage of Sir Francis Varney
appeared, much altered; in fact, completely worn and exhausted. It was useless to deny it, but he looked ghastly--terrific; his singular
visage was as pallid as death; his eyes almost protruding, his mouth
opened, and his breathing short, and laboured in the extreme. He climbed over with much difficulty, and staggered into the room, and
would have spoken, but he could not; befell senseless upon the floor,
utterly exhausted and motionless. There was a long pause, and each one present looked at each other, and
then they gazed upon the inanimate body of Sir Francis Varney, which lay
supine and senseless in the middle of the floor. * * * *

The importance of the document, said to be on the dead body, was such
that it would admit of no delay before it was obtained, and the party
determined that it should be commenced instanter. Lost time would be an
object to them; too much haste could hardly be made; and now came the
question of, "should it be to-night, or not?" "Certainly," said Henry Bannerworth; "the sooner we can get it, the
sooner all doubt and distress will be at an end; and, considering the
turn of events, that will be desirable for all our sakes; besides, we
know not what unlucky accident may happen to deprive us of what is so
necessary." "There can be none," said Mr. Chillingworth; "but there is this to be
said, this has been such an eventful history, that I cannot say what
might or what might not happen." "We may as well go this very night," said Charles Holland. "I give my
vote for an immediate exhumation of the body. The night is somewhat
stormy, but nothing more; the moon is up, and there will be plenty of
light." "And rain," said the doctor. "Little or none," said Charles Holland. "A few gusts of wind now and
then drive a few heavy plashes of rain against the windows, and that
gives a fearful sound, which is, in fret, nothing, when you have to
encounter it; but you will go, doctor?" "Yes, most certainly. We must have some tools." "Those may be had from the garden," said Henry. "Tools for the
exhumation, you mean?" "Yes; pickaxe, mattocks, and a crowbar; a lantern, and so forth," said
the doctor. "You see I am at home in this; the fact is, I have had more
than one affair of this kind on my hands before now, and whilst a
student I have had more than one adventure of a strange character." "I dare say, doctor," said Charles Holland, "you have some sad pranks to
answer for; you don't think of it then, only when you find them
accumulated in a heap, so that you shall not be able to escape them;
because they come over your senses when you sleep at night." "No, no," said Chillingworth; "you are mistaken in that. I have long
since settled all my accounts of that nature; besides, I never took a
dead body out of a grave but in the name of science, and never for my
own profit, seeing I never sold one in my life, or got anything by it." "That is not the fact," said Henry; "you know, doctor, you improved your
own talents and knowledge." "Yes, yes; I did." "Well, but you profited by such improvements?" "Well, granted, I did. How much more did the public not benefit then,"
said the doctor, with a smile. "Ah, well, we won't argue the question," said Charles; "only it strikes
me that the doctor could never have been a doctor if he had not
determined upon following a profession." "There may be a little truth in that," said Chillingworth; "but now we
had better quit the house, and make the best of our way to the spot
where the unfortunate man lies buried in his unhallowed grave." "Come with me into the garden," said Henry Bannerworth; "we shall there
be able to suit ourselves to what is required. I have a couple of
lanterns." "One is enough," said Chillingworth; "we had better not burden ourselves
more than we are obliged to do; and we shall find enough to do with the
tools." "Yes, they are not light; and the distance is by far too great to make
walking agreeable and easy; the wind blows strong, and the rain appears
to be coming up afresh, and, by the time we have done, we shall find the
ground will become slippy, and bad for walking." "Can we have a conveyance?" "No, no," said the doctor; "we could, but we must trouble the turnpike
man; besides, there is a shorter way across some fields, which will be
better and safer." "Well, well," said Charles Holland; "I do not mind which way it is, as
long as you are satisfied yourselves. The horse and cart would have
settled it all better, and done it quicker, besides carrying the tools." "Very true, very true," said the doctor; "all that is not without its
weight, and you shall choose which way you would have it done; for my
part, I am persuaded the expedition on foot is to be preferred for two
reasons."