Penny Dreadful Multipack Vol. 1 (Illustrated. Annotated. 'Wagner The Wehr-Wolf,' 'Varney The Vampire,' 'The Mysteries of London Vol. 1' + Bonus Features) (Penny Dreadful Multipacks) (110 page)

Upon
the other hand, it is just possible that some consciousness of invulnerability
on his own part, or of great power to injure his antagonist, might be the cause
why he had held back so long from fighting the duel, and placed so many
obstacles in the way of the usual necessary arrangements incidental to such
occasions.

Now,
however, there would seem to be no possible means of escape. Sir Francis Varney
must fight or fly, for he was surrounded by too many opponents.

To be
sure he might have appealed to the civil authorities to protect him, and to
sanction him in his refusal to commit what undoubtedly is a legal offence; but
then there cannot be a question that the whole of the circumstances would come
out, and meet the public eye—the result of which would be, his acquisition of a
reputation as unenviable as it would be universal.

It
had so happened, that the peculiar position of the Bannerworth family kept
their acquaintance within extremely narrow limits, and greatly indisposed them
to set themselves up as marks for peculiar observation.

Once
holding, as they had, a proud position in the county, and being looked upon
quite as magnates of the land, they did not now court the prying eye of
curiosity to look upon their poverty; but rather with a gloomy melancholy they
lived apart, and repelled the advances of society by a cold reserve, which few
could break through.

Had
this family suffered in any noble cause, or had the misfortunes which had come
over them, and robbed their ancestral house of its lustre, been an unavoidable
dispensation of providence, they would have borne the hard position with a
different aspect; but it must be remembered, that to the faults, the vices, and
the criminality of some of their race, was to be attributed their present
depressed state.

It
has been seen during the progress of our tale, that its action has been
tolerably confined to Bannerworth Hall, its adjacent meadows, and the seat of
Sir Francis Varney; the only person at any distance, knowing anything of the
circumstances, or feeling any interest in them, being Mr. Chillingworth, the
surgeon, who, from personal feeling, as well as from professional habit, was
not likely to make a family's affairs a subject of gossip.

A
change, however, was at hand—a change of a most startling and alarming
character to Varney—one which he might expect, yet not be well prepared for.

This
period of serenity was to pass away, and he was to become most alarmingly
popular. We will not, however, anticipate, but proceed at once to detail as
briefly as may be the hostile meeting.

It
would appear that Varney, now that he had once consented to the definitive
arrangements of a duel, shrunk not in any way from carrying them out, nor in
the slightest attempted to retard arrangements which might be fatal to himself.

The
early morning was one of those cloudy ones so frequently occurring in our
fickle climate, when the cleverest weather prophet would find it difficult to
predict what the next hour might produce.

There
was a kind of dim gloominess over all objects; and as there were no bright
lights, there were no deep shadows—the consequence of which was a sureness of
effect over the landscape, that robbed it of many of its usual beauties.

Such
was the state of things when Marchdale accompanied Henry and Admiral Bell from
Bannerworth Hall across the garden in the direction of the hilly wood, close to
which was the spot intended for the scene of encounter.

Jack
Pringle came on at a lazy pace behind with his hands in his pockets, and
looking as unconcerned as if he had just come out for a morning's stroll, and
scarcely knew whether he saw what was going on or not.

The
curious contortion into which he twisted his countenance, and the different
odd-looking lumps that appeared in it from time to time, may be accounted for
by a quid of unusual size, which he seemed to be masticating with a relish
quite horrifying to one unused to so barbarous a luxury.

The
admiral had strictly enjoined him not to interfere on pain of being considered
a lubber and no seaman for the remainder of his existence—threatened penalties
which, of course, had their own weight with Jack, and accordingly he came just,
to see the row in as quiet a way as possible, perhaps not without a hope, that
something might turn up in the shape of a
 
causus
belli
, that might justify him in adopting a threatening attitude towards
somebody.

"Now,
Master Henry," said the admiral, "none of your palaver to me as we go
along, recollect I don't belong to your party, you know. I've stood friend to
two or three fellows in my time; but if anybody had said to me, 'Admiral Bell,
the next time you go out on a quiet little shooting party, it will be as second
to a vampyre,' I'd have said 'you're a liar' Howsomever, d—me, here you goes,
and what I mean to say is this, Mr Henry, that I'd second even a Frenchman
rather than he shouldn't fight when he's asked"

"That's
liberal of you," said Henry, "at all event"

"I
believe you it is," said the admiral, "so mind if you don't hit him,
I'm not a-going to tell you how—all you've got to do, is to fire low; but
that's no business of mine. Shiver my timbers, I oughtn't to tell you, but d—n
you, hit him if you can."

"Admiral,"
said Henry, "I can hardly think you are even preserving a neutrality in
the matter, putting aside my own partisanship as regards your own man."

"Oh,
hang him. I'm not going to let him creep out of the thing on such a shabby
pretence. I can tell you. I think I ought to have gone to his house this
morning; only, as I said I never would cross his threshold again, I
won't."

"I
wonder if he'll come," said Mr Marchdale to Henry. "After all, you
know he may take to flight, and shun an encounter which, it is evident, he has
entered into but tardily."

"I
hope not," said Henry, "and yet I must own that your supposition has
several times crossed my mind. If, however, he do not meet me, he never can
appear at all in the country, and we should, at least, be rid of him, and all
his troublesome importunities concerning the Hall. I would not allow that man,
on any account, to cross the threshold of my house, as its tenant or its
owner."

"Why,
it ain't usual," said the admiral, "to let ones house to two people
at once, unless you seem quite to forget that I've taken yours. I may as well
remind you of it."

"Hurra"
said Jack Pringle, at this moment.

"What's
the matter with you? Who told you to hurra?"

"Enemy
in the offing," said Jack, "three or four pints to the
sou-west."

"So
he is, by Jove! dodging about among the trees. Come, now, this vampyre's a
decenter fellow than I thought him. He means, after all, to let us have a pop
at him."

They
had now reached so close to the spot, that Sir Francis Varney, who, to all
appearance, had been waiting, emerged from among the trees, rolled up in his
dismal-looking cloak, and, if possible, looking longer and thinner than ever he
had looked before.

His
face wore a singular cadaverous looking aspect. His very lips were white and
there was a curious, pinkish-looking circle round each of his eyes, that
imparted to his whole countenance a most uninviting appearance. He turned his
eyes from one to the other of those who were advancing towards him, until he
saw the admiral, upon which he gave such a grim and horrible smile, that the
old man exclaimed,—

"I
say, Jack, you lubber, there's a face for a figure head."

"Ay,
ay, sir."

"Did
you ever see such a d——d grin as that in your life, in any latitude?"

"Ay,
ay, sir."

"You
did you swab."

"I
should think so."

"It's
a lie, and you know it."

"Very
good," said Jack, "don't you recollect when that ere iron bullet
walked over your head, leaving a nice little nick, all the way off
Bergen-ap-Zoom, that was the time—blessed if you didn't give just such a grin
as that."

"I
didn't, you rascal."

"And
I say you did."

"Mutiny,
by God!"

"Go
to blazes!"

How
far this contention might have gone, having now reached its culminating point,
had the admiral and Jack been alone, it is hard to say; but as it was, Henry
and Marchdale interfered, and so the quarrel was patched up for the moment, in
order to give place to more important affairs.

Varney
seemed to think, that after the smiling welcome he had given to his second, he
had done quite enough; for there he stood, tall, and gaunt, and motionless, if
we may except an occasional singular movement of the mouth, and a clap together
of his teeth, at times, which was enough to make anybody jump to hear.

"For
Heaven's sake," said Marchdale, "do not let us trifle at such a
moment as this. Mr. Pringle, you really had no business here."

"Mr.
who?" said Jack.

"Pringle,
I believe, is your name?" returned Marchdale.

"It
were; but blowed if ever I was called mister before."

The
admiral walked up to Sir Francis Varney, and gave him a nod that looked much
more like one of defiance than of salutation, to which the vampyre replied by a
low, courtly bow.

"Oh,
bother!" muttered the old admiral. "If I was to double up my backbone
like that, I should never get it down straight again. Well, all's right; you've
come; that's all you could do, I suppose."

"I
am here," said Varney, "and therefore it becomes a work of
supererogation to remark that I've come."

"Oh!
does it? I never bolted a dictionary, and, therefore, I don't know exactly what
you mean."

"Step
aside with me a moment, Admiral Bell, and I will tell you what you are to do
with me after I am shot, if such should be my fate."

"Do
with you! D——d if I'll do anything with you."

"I
don't expect you will regret me; you will eat."

"Eat!"

"Yes,
and drink as usual, no doubt, notwithstanding being witness to the decease of a
fellow-creature."

"Belay
there; don't call yourself a fellow-creature of mine; I ain't a vampyre."

"But
there's no knowing what you may be; and now listen to my instructions; for as
you're my second, you cannot very well refuse to me a few friendly offices.
Rain is falling. Step beneath this ancient tree, and I will talk to you."

THE STORM AND THE FIGHT.-THE ADMIRAL'S REPUDIATION OF HIS
PRINCIPAL.

"Well,"
said the admiral, when they were fairly under the tree, upon the leaves of
which the pattering rain might be heard falling: "well—what is it?"

"If
your young friend, Mr. Bannerworth, should chance to send a pistol-bullet
through any portion of my anatomy, prejudicial to the prolongation of my
existence, you will be so good as not to interfere with anything I may have
about me, or to make any disturbance whatever."

"You
may depend I sha'n't."

"Just
take the matter perfectly easy—as a thing of course."

"Oh!
I mean d——d easy."

"Ha!
what a delightful thing is friendship! There is a little knoll or mound of
earth midway between here and the Hall. Do you happen to know it? There is one
solitary tree glowing near its summit—an oriental looking tree, of the fir
tribe, which, fan-like, spreads its deep green leaves; across the azure
sky."

"Oh!
bother it; it's a d——d old tree, growing upon a little bit of a hill, I suppose
you mean?"

"Precisely;
only much more poetically expressed. The moon rises at a quarter past four
to-night, or rather to-morrow, morning."

"Does
it?"

"Yes;
and if I should happen to be killed, you will have me removed gently to this
mound of earth, and there laid beneath this tree, with my face upwards; and
take care that it is done before the moon rises. You can watch that no one interferes."

"A
likely job. What the deuce do you take me for? I tell you what it is, Mr.
Vampyre, or Varney, or whatever's your name, if you should chance to be hit,
where-ever you chance to fall, there you'll lie."

"How
very unkind."

"Uncommon,
ain't it?"

"Well,
well, since that is your determination, I must take care of myself in another
way. I can do so, and I will."

"Take
care of yourself how you like, for all I care; I've come here to second you,
and to see that, on the honour of a seaman, if you are put out of the world,
it's done in a proper manner, that's all I have to do with you—now you
know."

Sir
Francis Varney looked after him with a strange kind of smile, as he walked away
to make the necessary preparation with Marchdale for the immediate commencement
of the contest.

These
were simple and brief. It was agreed that twelve paces should be measured out,
six each way, from a fixed point; one six to be paced by the admiral, and the
other by Marchdale; then they were to draw lots, to see at which end of this
imaginary line Varney was to be placed; after this the signal for firing was to
be one, two, three—fire!

A few
minutes sufficed to complete these arrangements; the ground was measured in the
manner we have stated, and the combatants placed in their respective positions,
Sir Francis Varney occupying the same spot where he had at first stood, namely,
that nearest to the little wood, and to his own residence.

It is
impossible that under such circumstances the bravest and the calmest of mankind
could fail to feel some slight degree of tremour or uneasiness; and, although
we can fairly claim for Henry Bannerworth that he was as truly courageous as
any right feeling Christian man could wish to be, yet when it was possible that
he stood within, as it were, a hair's breadth of eternity, a strange world of
sensation and emotions found a home in his heart, and he could not look
altogether undaunted on that future which might, for all he knew to the
contrary, be so close at hand, as far as he was concerned.

It
was not that he feared death, but that he looked with a decent gravity upon so
grave a change as that from this world to the next, and hence was it that his
face was pale, and that he looked all the emotion which he really felt.

This
was the aspect and the bearing of a brave but not a reckless man; while Sir
Francis Varney, on the other hand, seemed, now that he had fairly engaged in
the duel, to look upon it and its attendant circumstances with a kind of
smirking satisfaction, as if he were far more amused than personally
interested.

This
was certainly the more extraordinary after the manner in which he had tried to
evade the fight, and, at all events, was quite a sufficient proof that
cowardice had not been his actuating motive in so doing.

The
admiral, who stood on a level with him, could not see the sort of expression he
wore, or, probably, he would have been far from well pleased; but the others
did, and they found something inexpressibly disagreeable in the smirking kind
of satisfaction with which the vampyre seemed to regard now the proceedings.

"Confound
him," whispered Marchdale to Henry, "one would think he was quite
delighted, instead, as we had imagined him, not well pleased, at these
proceedings; look how he grins."

"It
is no matter," said Henry; "let him wear what aspect he may, it is
the same to me; and, as Heaven is my judge, I here declare, if I did not think
myself justified in so doing, I would not raise my hand against this man."

"There
can be no shadow of a doubt regarding your justification. Have at him, and
Heaven protect you."

"Amen!"

The
admiral was to give the word to fire, and now he and Marshal having stepped
sufficiently on one side to be out of all possible danger from any stray shot,
he commenced repeating the signal,—

"Are
you ready, gentlemen?—once."

They
looked sternly at each other, and each grasped his pistol.

"Twice!"

Sir
Francis Varney smiled and looked around him, as if the affair were one of the
most common-place description.

"Thrice!"

Varney
seemed to be studying the sky rather than attending to the duel.

"Fire!"
said the admiral, and one report only struck upon the ear. It was that from
Henry's pistol.

All
eyes were turned upon Sir Francis Varney, who had evidently reserved his fire,
for what purpose could not be devised, except a murderous one, the taking of a
more steady aim at Henry.

Sir
Francis, however, seemed in no hurry, but smiled significantly, and gradually
raised the point of his weapon.

"Did
you hear the word, Sir Francis? I gave it loud enough, I am sure. I never spoke
plainer in my life; did I ever, Jack?"

"Yes,
often," said Jack Pringle; "what's the use of your asking such yarns
as them? you know you have done so often enough when you wanted grog."

"You
d——d rascal, I'll—I'll have your back scored, I will."

"So
you will, when you are afloat again, which you never will be—you're paid off,
that's certain."

"You
lubberly lout, you ain't a seaman; a seaman would never mutiny against his
admiral; howsomever, do you hear, Sir Francis, I'll give the matter up, if you
don't pay some attention to me."

Henry
looked steadily at Varney, expecting every moment to feel his bullet. Mr.
Marchdale hastily exclaimed that this was not according to usage.

Sir
Francis Varney took no notice, but went on elevating his weapon; when it was
perpendicular to the earth he fired in the air.

"I
had not anticipated this," said Marchdale, as he walked to Henry. "I
thought he was taking a more deadly aim."

"And
I," said Henry.

"Ay,
you have escaped, Henry; let me congratulate you."

"Not
so fast; we may fire again."

"I
can afford to do that," he said, with a smile.

"You
should have fired, sir, according to custom," said the admiral; "this
is not the proper thing."

"What,
fire at your friend?"

"Oh,
that's all very well! You are my friend for a time, vampyre as you are, and I
intend you shall fire."

"If
Mr. Henry Bannerworth demands another fire, I have no objection to it, and will
fire at him; but as it is I shall not do so, indeed, it would be quite useless
for him to do so—to point mortal weapons at me is mere child's play, they will
not hurt me."

"The
devil they won't," said the admiral.

"Why,
look you here," said Sir Francis Varney, stepping forward and placing his
hand to his neckerchief; "look you here; if Mr. Henry Bannerworth should
demand another fire, he may do so with the same bullet."

"The
same bullet!" said Marchdale, stepping forward—"the same bullet! How
is this?"

"My
eyes," said Jack; "who'd a thought it; there's a go! Wouldn't he do
for a dummy—to lead a forlorn hope, or to put among the boarders?"

"Here,"
said Sir Francis, handing a bullet to Henry Bannerworth—"here is the
bullet you shot at me."

Henry
looked at it—it was blackened by powder; and then Marchdale seized it and tried
it in the pistol, but found the bullet fitted Henry's weapon.

"By
heavens, it is so!" he exclaimed, stepping back and looking at Varney from
top to toe in horror and amazement.

"D——e,"
said the admiral, "if I understand this. Why Jack Pringle, you dog, here's
a strange fish."

"On,
no! there's plenty on 'um in some countries."

"Will
you insist upon another fire, or may I consider you satisfied?"

"I
shall object," said Marchdale. "Henry, this affair must go no
further; it would be madness—worse than madness, to fight upon such
terms."

"So
say I," said the admiral. "I will not have anything to do with you,
Sir Francis. I'll not be your second any longer. I didn't bargain for such a
game as this. You might as well fight with the man in brass armour, at the Lord
Mayor's show, or the champion at a coronation."

"Oh!"
said Jack Pringle; "a man may as well fire at the back of a halligator as
a wamphigher."

"This
must be considered as having been concluded," said Mr. Marchdale.

"No!"
said Henry.

"And
wherefore not?"

"Because
I have not received his fire."

"Heaven
forbid you should."

"I
may not with honour quit the ground without another fire."

"Under
ordinary circumstances there might be some shadow of an excuse for your demand;
but as it is there is none. You have neither honour nor credit to gain by such
an encounter, and, certainly, you can gain no object."

"How
are we to decide this affair? Am I considered absolved from the accusation
under which I lay, of cowardice?" inquired Sir Francis Varney, with a cold
smile.

"Why,
as for that," said the admiral, "I should as soon expect credit for
fighting behind a wall, as with a man that I couldn't hit any more than the
moon."

"Henry;
let me implore you to quit this scene; it can do no good."

At
this moment, a noise, as of human voices, was heard at a distance; this caused
a momentary pause, and, the whole party stood still and listened.

The
murmurs and shouts that now arose in the distance were indistinct and confused.

"What
can all this mean?" said Marchdale; "there is something very strange
about it. I cannot imagine a cause for so unusual an occurrence."

"Nor
I," said Sir Francis Varney, looking suspiciously at Henry Bannerworth.

"Upon
my honour I know neither what is the cause nor the nature of the sounds
themselves."

"Then
we can easily see what is the matter from yonder hillock," said the
admiral; "and there's Jack Pringle, he's up there already. What's he
telegraphing about in that manner, I wonder?"

The
fact was, Jack Pringle, hearing the riot, had thought that if he got to the
neighbouring eminence he might possibly ascertain what it was that was the
cause of what he termed the "row," and had succeeded in some degree.

There
were a number of people of all kinds coming out from the village, apparently
armed, and shouting. Jack Pringle hitched up his trousers and swore, then took
off his hat and began to shout to the admiral, as he said,—

"D——e,
they are too late to spoil the sport. Hilloa! hurrah!"

"What's
all that about, Jack?" inquired the admiral, as he came puffing along.
"What's the squall about?"

"Only
a few horse-marines and bumboat-women, that have been startled like a company
of penguins."

"Oh!
my eyes! wouldn't a whole broadside set 'em flying, Jack?"

"Ay;
just as them Frenchmen that you murdered on board the Big Thunderer, as you
called it."

"I
murder them, you rascal?"

"Yes;
there was about five hundred of them killed."

"They
were only shot."

"They
were killed, only your conscience tells you it's uncomfortable."

"You
rascal—you villain! You ought to be keel-hauled and well payed."

"Ay;
you're payed, and paid off as an old hulk."