Complete Works of Bram Stoker (558 page)

“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 mob. When they came to the door, they commenced knocking and kicking most violently, and assailing it with all kinds of things they could lay their hands upon.

They continued at this violent exercise for some time  —  perhaps for five minutes, when the little square hole in the door was again opened, and a voice was heard to say,  — 

“You had better cease that kind of annoyance.”

“We want to get in.”

“It will cost you more lives to do so than you can afford to spare. We are well armed, and are prepared to resist any effort you can make.”

“Oh! it’s all very well; but, an you won’t open, why we’ll make you; that’s all about it.”

This was said as the big countryman and his companions were leaving the avenue towards the rest of the body.

“Then, take this, as an earnest of what is to follow,” said the man, and he discharged the contents of a blunderbuss through the small opening, and its report sounded to the rest of the mob like the report of a field-piece.

Fortunately for the party retiring the man couldn’t take any aim, else it is questionable how many of the party would have got off unwounded. As it was, several of them found stray slugs were lodged in various parts of their persons, and accelerated their retreat from the house of the vampyre.

“What luck?” inquired one of the mob to the others, as they came back; “I’m afraid you had all the honour.”

“Ay, ay, we have, and all the lead too,” replied a man, as he placed his hand upon a sore part of his person, which bled in consequence of a wound.

“Well, what’s to be done?”

“Danged if I know,” said one.

“Give it up,” said another.

“No, no; have him out. I’ll never give in while I can use a stick. They are in earnest, and so are we. Don’t let us be frightened because they have a gun or two  —  they can’t have many; and besides, if they have, we are too many for them. Besides, we shall all die in our beds.”

“Hurrah! down with the vampyre!”

“So say I, lads. I don’t want to be sucked to death when I’m a-bed. Better die like a man than such a dog’s death as that, and you have no revenge then.”

“No, no; he has the better of us then. We’ll have him out  —  we’ll burn him  —  that’s the way we’ll do it.”

“Ay, so we will; only let us get in.”

At that moment a chosen party returned who had been round the house to make a reconnaissance.

“Well, well,” inquired the mob, “what can be done now  —  where can we get in?”

“In several places.”

“All right; come along then; the place is our own.”

“Stop a minute; they are armed at all points, and we must make an attack on all points, else we may fail. A party must go round to the front-door, and attempt to beat it in; there are plenty of poles and things that could be used for such a purpose.”

“There is, besides, a garden-door, that opens into the house  —  a kind of parlour; a kitchen-door; a window in the flower-garden, and an entrance into a store-room; this place appears strong, and is therefore unguarded.”

“The very point to make an attack.”

“Not quite.”

“Why not?”

“Because it can easily be defended, and rendered useless to us. We must make an attack upon all places but that, and, while they are being at those points, we can then enter at that place, and then you will find them desert the other places when they see us inside.”

“Hurrah! down with the vampyre!” said the mob, as they listened to this advice, and appreciated the plan.

“Down with the vampyre!”

“Now, then, lads, divide, and make the attack; never mind their guns, they have but very few, and if you rush in upon them, you will soon have the guns yourselves.”

“Hurrah! hurrah!” shouted the mob.

The mob now moved away in different bodies, each strong enough to carry the house. They seized upon a variety of poles and stones, and then made for the various doors and windows that were pointed out by those who had made the discovery. Each one of those who had formed the party of observation, formed a leader to the others, and at once proceeded to the post assigned him.

The attack was so sudden and so simultaneous that the servants were unprepared; and though they ran to the doors, and fired away, still they did but little good, for the doors were soon forced open by the enraged rioters, who proceeded in a much more systematic operation, using long heavy pieces of timber which were carried on the shoulders of several men, and driven with the force of battering-rams  —  which, in fact, they were  —  against the door.

Bang went the battering-ram, crash went the door, and the whole party rushed headlong in, carried forward by their own momentum and fell prostrate, engine and all, into the passage.

“Now, then, we have them,” exclaimed the servants, who began to belabour the whole party with blows, with every weapon they could secure.

Loudly did the fallen men shout for assistance, and but for their fellows who came rushing in behind, they would have had but a sorry time of it.

“Hurrah!” shouted the mob; “the house is our own.”

“Not yet,” shouted the servants.

“We’ll try,” said the mob; and they rushed forward to drive the servants back, but they met with a stout resistance, and as some of them had choppers and swords, there were a few wounds given, and presently bang went the blunderbuss.

Two or three of the mob reeled and fell.

This produced a momentary panic, and the servants then had the whole of the victory to themselves, and were about to charge, and clear the passage of their enemies, when a shout behind attracted their attention.

That shout was caused by an entrance being gained in another quarter, whence the servants were flying, and all was disorder.

“Hurrah! hurrah!” shouted the mob.

The servants retreated to the stairs, and here united, they made a stand, and resolved to resist the whole force of the rioters, and they succeeded in doing so, too, for some minutes. Blows were given and taken of a desperate character.

Somehow, there were no deadly blows received by the servants; they were being forced and beaten, but they lost no life; this may be accounted for by the fact that the mob used no more deadly weapons than sticks.

The servants of Sir Francis Varney, on the contrary, were mostly armed with deadly weapons, which, however, they did not use unnecessarily. They stood upon the hall steps  —  the grand staircase, with long poles or sticks, about the size of quarter-staves, and with these they belaboured those below most unmercifully.

Certainly, the mob were by no means cowards, for the struggle to close with their enemies was as great as ever, and as firm as could well be. Indeed, they rushed on with a desperation truly characteristic of John Bull, and defied the heaviest blows; for as fast as one was stricken down another occupied his place, and they insensibly pressed their close and compact front upon the servants, who were becoming fatigued and harassed.

“Fire, again,” exclaimed a voice from among the servants.

The mob made no retrogade movement, but still continued to press onwards, and in another moment a loud report rang through the house, and a smoke hung over the heads of the mob.

A long groan or two escaped some of the men who had been wounded, and a still louder from those who had not been wounded, and a cry arose of,  — 

“Down with the vampyre  —  pull down  —  destroy and burn the whole place  —  down with them all.”

A rush succeeded, and a few more discharges took place, when a shout above attracted the attention of both parties engaged in this fierce struggle. They paused by mutual consent, to look and see what was the cause of that shout.

CHAPTER LII.

THE INTERVIEW BETWEEN THE MOB AND SIR FRANCIS VARNEY.  —  THE MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE.  —  THE WINE CELLARS.

The shout that had so discomposed the parties who were thus engaged in a terrific struggle came from a party above.

“Hurrah! hurrah!” they shouted a number of times, in a wild strain of delight. “Hurrah! hurrah! hurrah!”

The fact was, a party of the mob had clambered up a verandah, and entered some of the rooms upstairs, whence they emerged just above the landing near the spot where the servants were resisting in a mass the efforts of the mob.

“Hurrah!” shouted the mob below.