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- Author: Prest and Rymer
Book online «Varney the Vampire; Or, the Feast of Blood by Prest and Rymer (reading books for 7 year olds txt) 📖». Author Prest and Rymer
We have before noticed that these people went out of the town at different points, and did not assemble into one mass until they were at a sufficient distance off to be free from all fear of observation.
Then some of the less observant and cautious of them began to indulge in shouts of rage and defiance; but those who placed themselves foremost succeeded in procuring a halt, and one said,—
"Good friends all, if we make any noise, it can only have one effect, and that is, to warn Sir Francis Varney, and enable him to escape. If, therefore, we cannot go on quietly, I propose that we return to our homes, for we shall accomplish nothing."
This advice was sufficiently and evidently reasonable to meet with no dissension; a death-like stillness ensued, only broken by some two or three voices saying, in subdued tones,—
"That's right—that's right. Nobody speak."
"Come on, then," said he who had given such judicious counsel; and the dark mass of men moved towards Sir Francis Varney's house, as quietly as it was possible for such an assemblage to proceed.
Indeed, saving the sound of the footsteps, nothing could be heard of them at all; and that regular tramp, tramp, would have puzzled any one listening to it from any distance to know in which direction it was proceeding.
In this way they went on until Sir Francis Varney's house was reached, and then a whispered word to halt was given, and all eyes were bent upon the building.
From but one window out of the numerous ones with which the front of the mansion was studded did there shine the least light, and from that there came rather an uncommonly bright reflection, probably arising from a reading lamp placed close to the window.
A general impression, they knew not why exactly, seemed to pervade everybody, that in the room from whence streamed that bright light was Sir Francis Varney.
"The vampyre's room!" said several. "The vampyre's room! That is it!"
"Yes," said he who had a kind of moral control over his comrades; "I have no doubt but he is there."
"What's to be done?" asked several.
"Make no noise whatever, but stand aside, so as not to be seen from the door when it is opened."
"Yes, yes."
"I will knock for admittance, and, the moment it is answered, I will place this stick in such a manner within, that the door cannot be closed again. Upon my saying 'Advance,' you will make a rush forward, and we shall have possession immediately of the house."
All this was agreed to. The mob slunk close to the walls of the house, and out of immediate observation from the hall door, or from any of the windows, and then the leader advanced, and knocked loudly for admission.
The silence was now of the most complete character that could be imagined. Those who came there so bent upon vengeance were thoroughly convinced of the necessity of extreme caution, to save themselves even yet from being completely foiled.
They had abundant faith, from experience, of the resources in the way of escape of Sir Francis Varney, and not one among them was there who considered that there was any chance of capturing him, except by surprise, and when once they got hold of him, they determined he should not easily slip through their fingers.
The knock for admission produced no effect; and, after waiting three or four minutes, it was very provoking to find such a wonderful amount of caution and cunning completely thrown away.
"Try again," whispered one.
"Well, have patience; I am going to try again."
The man had the ponderous old-fashioned knocker in his hand, and was about to make another appeal to Sir Francis Varney's door, when a strange voice said,—
"Perhaps you may as well say at once what you want, instead of knocking there to no purpose."
He gave a start, for the voice seemed to come from the very door itself.
Yet it sounded decidedly human; and, upon a closer inspection, it was seen that a little wicket-gate, not larger than a man's face, had been opened from within.
This was terribly provoking. Here was an extent of caution on the part of the garrison quite unexpected. What was to be done?
"Well?" said the man who appeared at the little opening.
"Oh," said he who had knocked; "I—"
"Well?"
"I—that is to say—ahem! Is Sir Francis Varney within?"
"Well?"
"I say, is Sir Francis Varney within?"
"Well; you have said it!"
"Ah, but you have not answered it."
"No."
"Well, is he at home?"
"I decline saying; so you had better, all of you, go back to the town again, for we are well provided with all material to resist any attack you may be fools enough to make."
As he spoke, the servant shut the little square door with a bang that made his questioner jump again. Here was a dilemma!
CHAPTER LI. THE ATTACK UPON THE VAMPYRE'S HOUSE.—THE STORY OF THE ATTACK.—THE FORCING OF THE DOORS, AND THE STRUGGLE.
A council of war was now called among the belligerents, who were somewhat taken aback by the steady refusal of the servant to admit them, and their apparent determination to resist all endeavours on the part of the mob to get into and obtain possession of the house. It argued that they were prepared to resist all attempts, and it would cost some few lives to get into the vampyre's house. This passed through the minds of many as they retired behind the angle of the wall where the council was to be held.
Here they looked in each others' face, as if to gather from that the general tone of the feelings of their companions; but here they saw nothing that intimated the least idea of going back as they came.
"It's all very well, mates, to take care of ourselves, you know," began one tall, brawny fellow; "but, if we bean't to be sucked to death by a vampyre, why we must have the life out of him."
"Ay, so we must."
"Jack Hodge is right; we must kill him, and there's no sin in it, for he has no right to it; he's robbed some poor fellow of his life to prolong his own."
"Ay, ay, that's the way he does; bring him out, I say, then see what we will do with him."
"Yes, catch him first," said one, "and then we can dispose of him afterwards, I say, neighbours, don't you think it would be as well to catch him first?"
"Haven't we come on purpose?"
"Yes, but do it."
"Ain't we trying it?"
"You will presently, when we come to get into the house."
"Well, what's to be done?" said one; "here we are in a fix, I think, and I can't see our way out very clearly."
"I wish we could get in."
"But how is a question I don't very well see," said a large specimen of humanity.
"The best thing that can be done will be to go round and look over the whole house, and then we may come upon some part where it is far easier to get in at than by the front door."
"But it won't do for us all to go round that way," said one; "a small party only should go, else they will have all their people stationed at one point, and if we can divide them, we shall beat them because they have not enough to defend more than one point at a time; now we are numerous enough to make several attacks."
"Oh! that's the way to bother them all round; they'll give in, and then the place is our own."
"No, no," said the big countryman, "I like to make a good rush and drive all afore us; you know what ye have to do then, and you do it, ye know."
"If you can."
"Ay, to be sure, if we can, as you say; but can't we? that's what I want to know."
"To be sure we can."
"Then we'll do it, mate—that's my mind; we'll do it. Come on, and let's have another look at the street-door."
The big countryman left the main body, and resolutely walked up to the main avenue, and approached the door, accompanied by about a dozen or less of the
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