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) (125 page)

THE ARRIVAL OF JACK PRINGLE.—MIDNIGHT AND THE VAMPYRE.—THE
MYSTERIOUS HAT.

"Bless
me! what is that?" said Mr. Chillingworth; "what a very singular
sound."

"Hold
your noise," said the admiral; "did you never hear that before?"

"No;
how should I?"

"Lor,
bless the ignorance of some people, that's a boatswain's call."

"Oh,
it is," said Mr. Chillingworth; "is he going to call again?"

"D——e,
I tell ye it's a boatswain's call."

"Well,
then, d——e, if it comes to that," said Mr. Chillingworth, "what does
he call here for?"

The
admiral disdained an answer; but demanding the lantern, he opened it, so that
there was a sufficient glimmering of light to guide him, and then walked from
the room towards the front door of the Hall.

He
asked no questions before he opened it, because, no doubt, the signal was
preconcerted; and Jack Pringle, for it was he indeed who had arrived, at once
walked in, and the admiral barred the door with the same precision with which
it was before secured.

"Well,
Jack," he said, "did you see anybody?"

"Ay,
ay, sir," said Jack.

"Why,
ye don't mean that—where?"

"Where
I bought the grub; a woman—"

"D——e,
you're a fool, Jack."

"You're
another."

"Hilloa,
ye scoundrel, what d'ye mean by talking to me in that way? is this your respect
for your superiors?"

"Ship's
been paid off long ago," said Jack, "and I ain't got no superiors. I
ain't a marine or a Frenchman."

"Why,
you're drunk."

"I
know it; put that in your eye."

"There's
a scoundrel. Why, you know-nothing-lubber, didn't I tell you to be careful, and
that everything depended upon secrecy and caution? and didn't I tell you, above
all this, to avoid drink?"

"To
be sure you did."

"And
yet you come here like a rum cask."

"Yes;
now you've had your say, what then?"

"You'd
better leave him alone," said Mr. Chillingworth; "it's no use arguing
with a drunken man."

"Harkye,
admiral," said Jack, steadying himself as well as he could. "I've put
up with you a precious long while, but I won't no longer; you're so drunk, now,
that you keeping bobbing up and down like the mizen gaff in a storm—that's my
opinion—tol de rol."

"Let
him alone, let him alone," urged Mr. Chillingworth.

"The
villain," said the admiral; "he's enough to ruin everything; now, who
would have thought that? but it's always been the way with him for a matter of
twenty years—he never had any judgment in his drink. When it was all smooth
sailing, and nothing to do, and the fellow might have got an extra drop on
board, which nobody would have cared for, he's as sober as a judge; but,
whenever there's anything to do, that wants a little cleverness, confound him,
he ships rum enough to float a seventy-four."

"Are
you going to stand anything to drink," said Jack, "my old buffer? Do
you recollect where you got your knob scuttled off Beyrout—how you fell on your
latter end and tried to recollect your church cateckis, you old brute?—I's
ashamed of you. Do you recollect the brown girl you bought for thirteen bob and
a tanner, at the blessed Society Islands, and sold her again for a dollar, to a
nigger seven feet two, in his natural pumps? you're a nice article, you is, to
talk of marines and swabs, and shore-going lubbers, blow yer. Do you recollect
the little Frenchman that told ye he'd pull your blessed nose, and I advised
you to soap it? do you recollect Sall at Spithead, as you got in at a port hole
of the state cabin, all but her behind?"

"Death
and the devil!" said the admiral, breaking from the grasp of Mr.
Chillingworth.

"Ay,"
said Jack, "you'll come to 'em both one of these days, old cock, and no
mistake."

"I'll
have his life, I'll have his life," roared the admiral.

"Nay,
nay, sir," said Mr. Chillingworth, catching the admiral round the waist.
"My dear sir, recollect, now, if I may venture to advise you, Admiral
Bell, there's a lot of that fiery hollands you know, in the next room; set firm
down to that, and finish him off. I'll warrant him, he'll be quiet
enough."

"What's
that you say?" cried Jack—"hollands!—who's got any?—next to rum and
Elizabeth Baker, if I has an affection, it's hollands."

"Jack!"
said the admiral.

"Ay,
ay, sir!" said Jack, instinctively.

"Come
this way."

Jack
staggered after him, and they all reached the room where the admiral and Mr.
Chillingworth had been sitting before the alarm.

"There!"
said the admiral, putting the light upon the table, and pointing to the bottle;
"what do you think of that?"

"I
never thinks under such circumstances," said Jack. "Here's to the
wooden walls of old England!"

He
seized the bottle, and, putting its neck into his mouth, for a few moments
nothing was heard but a gurgling sound of the liquor passing down his throat;
his head went further and further back, until, at last, over he went, chair and
bottle and all, and lay in a helpless state of intoxication on the floor.

"So
far, so good," said the admiral. "He's out of the way, at all
events."

"I'll
just loosen his neckcloth," said Mr. Chillingworth, "and then we'll
go and sit somewhere else; and I should recommend that, if anywhere, we take up
our station in that chamber, once Flora's, where the mysterious panelled
portrait hangs, that bears so strong a resemblance to Varney, the
vampyre."

"Hush!"
said the admiral. "What's that?"

They
listened for a moment intently; and then, distinctly, upon the gravel path outside
the window, they heard a footstep, as if some person were walking along, not
altogether heedlessly, but yet without any very great amount of caution or
attention to the noise he might make.

"Hist!"
said the doctor. "Not a word. They come."

"What
do you say they for?" said the admiral.

"Because
something seems to whisper me that Mr. Marchdale knows more of Varney, the
vampyre, than ever he has chosen to reveal. Put out the light."

"Yes,
yes—that'll do. The moon has risen; see how it streams through the chinks of
the shutters."

"No,
no—it's not in that direction, or our light would have betrayed us. Do you not
see the beams come from that half glass-door leading to the greenhouse?"

"Yes;
and there's the footstep again, or another."

Tramp,
tramp came a footfall again upon the gravel path, and, as before, died away
upon their listening ears.

"What
do you say now," said Mr. Chillingworth—"are there not two?"

"If
they were a dozen," said the admiral, "although we have lost one of
our force, I would tackle them. Let's creep on through the rooms in the
direction the footsteps went."

"My
life on it," said Mr. Chillingworth as they left the apartment, "if
this be Varney, he makes for that apartment where Flora slept, and which he
knows how to get admission to. I've studied the house well, admiral, and to get
to that window any one from here outside must take a considerable round. Come
on—we shall be beforehand."

"A
good idea—a good idea. Be it so."

Just
allowing themselves sufficient light to guide them on the way from the lantern,
they hurried on with as much precipitation as the intricacies of the passage
would allow, nor halted till they had reached the chamber were hung the
portrait which bore so striking and remarkable a likeness to Varney, the
vampyre.

They
left the lamp outside the door, so that not even a straggling beam from it
could betray that there were persons on the watch; and then, as quietly as foot
could fall, they took up their station among the hangings of the antique
bedstead, which has been before alluded to in this work as a remarkable piece
of furniture appertaining to that apartment.

"Do
you think," said the admiral, "we've distanced them?"

"Certainly
we have. It's unlucky that the blind of the window is down."

"Is
it? By Heaven, there's a d——d strange-looking shadow creeping over it."

Mr.
Chillingworth looked almost with suspended breath. Even he could not altogether
get rid of a tremulous feeling, as he saw that the shadow of a human form,
apparently of very large dimensions, was on the outside, with the arms spread
out, as if feeling for some means of opening the window.

It
would have been easy now to have fired one of the pistols direct upon the
figure; but, somehow or another, both the admiral and Mr. Chillingworth shrank
from that course, and they felt much rather inclined to capture whoever might
make his appearance, only using their pistols as a last resource, than
gratuitously and at once to resort to violence.

"Who
should you say that was?" whispered the admiral.

"Varney,
the vampyre."

"D——e,
he's ill-looking and big enough for anything—there's a noise!"

There
was a strange cracking sound at the window, as if a pane of glass was being
very stealthily and quietly broken; and then the blind was agitated slightly,
confusing much the shadow that was cast upon it, as if the hand of some person
was introduced for the purpose of effecting a complete entrance into the
apartment.

"He's
coming in," whispered the admiral.

"Hush,
for Heaven's sake!" said Mr. Chillingworth; "you will alarm him, and
we shall lose the fruit of all the labour we have already bestowed upon the
matter; but did you not say something, admiral, about lying under the window
and catching him by the leg?"

"Why,
yes; I did."

"Go
and do it, then; for, as sure as you are a living man, his leg will be in in a
minute."

"Here
goes," said the admiral; "I never suggest anything which I'm
unwilling to do myself."

Whoever
it was that now was making such strenuous exertions to get into the apartment
seemed to find some difficulty as regarded the fastenings of the window, and as
this difficulty increased, the patience of the party, as well as his caution
deserted him, and the casement was rattled with violence.

With
a far greater amount of caution than any one from a knowledge of his character
would have given him credit for, the admiral crept forward and laid himself
exactly under the window.

The
depth of wood-work from the floor to the lowest part of the window-frame did
not exceed above two feet; so that any one could conveniently step in from the
balcony outride on to the floor of the apartment, which was just what he who
was attempting to effect an entrance was desirous of doing.

It
was quite clear that, be he who he might, mortal or vampyre, he had some
acquaintance with the fastening of the window; for now he succeeded in moving
it, and the sash was thrown open.

The
blind was still an obstacle; but a vigorous pull from the intruder brought that
down on the prostrate admiral; and then Mr. Chillingworth saw, by the
moonlight, a tall, gaunt figure standing in the balcony, as if just hesitating
for a moment whether to get head first or feet first into the apartment.

Had
he chosen the former alternative he would need, indeed, to have been endowed
with more than mortal powers of defence and offence to escape capture, but his
lucky star was in the ascendancy, and he put his foot in first.

He
turned his side to the apartment and, as he did so, the blight moonlight fell
upon his face, enabling Mr. Chillingworth to see, without the shadow of a
doubt, that it was, indeed, Varney, the vampyre, who was thus stealthily making
his entrance into Bannerworth Hall, according to the calculation which had been
made by the admiral upon that subject. The doctor scarcely knew whether to be
pleased or not at this discovery; it was almost a terrifying one, sceptical as
he was upon the subject of vampyres, and he waited breathless for the issue of
the singular and perilous adventure.

No
doubt Admiral Bell deeply congratulated himself upon the success which was
about to crown his stratagem for the capture of the intruder, be he who he
might, and he writhed with impatience for the foot to come sufficiently near
him to enable him to grasp it.

His
patience was not severely tried, for in another moment it rested upon his
chest.

"Boarders
a hoy!" shouted the admiral, and at once he laid hold of the trespasser.
"Yard-arm to yard-arm, I think I've got you now. Here's a prize, doctor!
he shall go away without his leg if he goes away now. Eh! what! the light—d——e,
he has—Doctor, the light! the light! Why what's this?—Hilloa, there!"

Dr.
Chillingworth sprang into the passage, and procured the light—in another moment
he was at the side of the admiral, and the lantern slide being thrown back, he
saw at once the dilemma into which his friend had fallen.