Varney the Vampire; Or, the Feast of Blood by Prest and Rymer (most recommended books .txt) π
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- Author: Prest and Rymer
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The ruins presented a remarkable contrast to what the place had been but a very short time before; and now the scene of desolation was complete, there was no one spot in which the most wretched could find shelter.
To be sure, under the lee of some broken and crumbling wall, that tottered, rather than stood, a huddled wretch might have found shelter from the wind, but it would have been at the risk of his life, and not there complete.
The mob became quiet for some moments, but was not so long; indeed, a mob of people,βwhich is, in fact, always composed of the most disorderly characters to be found in a place, is not exactly the assembly that is most calculated for quietness; somebody gave a shout, and then somebody else shouted, and the one wide throat of the whole concourse was opened, and sent forth a mighty yell.
After this exhibition of power, they began to run about like mad,βtraverse the grounds from one end to the other, and then the ruins were in progress of being explored.
This was a tender affair, and had to be done with some care and caution by those who were so engaged; and they walked over crumbling and decayed masses.
In one or two places, they saw what appeared to be large holes, into which the building materials had been sunk, by their own weight, through the flooring, that seemed as roofs to some cellars or dungeons.
Seeing this, they knew not how soon some other part might sink in, and carry their precious bodies down with the mass of rubbish; this gave an interest to the scene,βa little danger is a sort of salt to an adventure, and enables those who have taken part in it to talk of their exploits, and of their dangers, which is pleasant to do, and to hear in the ale-house, and by the inglenook in the winter.
However, when a few had gone some distance, others followed, when they saw them enter the place in safety: and at length the whole ruins were covered with living men, and not a few women, who seemed necessary to make up the elements of mischief in this case.
There were some shouting and hallooing from one to the other as they hurried about the ruins.
At length they had explored the ruins nearly all over, when one man, who had stood a few minutes upon a spot, gazing intently upon something, suddenly exclaimed,β
"Hilloa! hurrah! here we are, altogether,βcome on,βI've found him,βI've foundβrecollect it's me, and nobody else has found,βhurrah!"
Then, with a wild kind of frenzy, he threw his hat up into the air, as if to attract attention, and call others round him, to see what it was he had found.
"What's the matter, Bill?" exclaimed one who came up to him, and who had been close at hand.
"The matter? why, I've found him; that's the matter, old man," replied the first.
"What, a whale?
"No, a wampyre; the blessed wampyre! there he is,βdon't you see him under them ere bricks?"
"Oh, that's not him; he got away."
"I don't care," replied the other, "who got away, or who didn't; I know this much, that he's a wampyre,βhe wouldn't be there if he warn't."
This was an unanswerable argument, and nobody could deny it; consequently, there was a cessation of talk, and the people then came up, as the two first were looking at the body.
"Whose is it?" inquired a dozen voices.
"Not Sir Francis Varney's!" said the second speaker; "the clothes are not hisβ"
"No, no; not Sir Francis's"
"But I tell you what, mates," said the first speaker; "that if it isn't Sir Francis Varney's, it is somebody else's as bad. I dare say, now, he's a wictim."
"A what!"
"A wictim to the wampyre; and, if he sees the blessed moonlight, he will be a wampyre hisself, and so shall we be, too, if he puts his teeth into us."
"So we shall,βso we shall," said the mob, and their flesh begin to run cold, and there was a feeling of horror creeping over the whole body of persons within hearing.
"I tell you what it is; our only plan will be to get him out of the ruins, then, remarked another.
"What!" said one; "who's going to handle such cattle? if you've a sore about you, and his blood touches you, who's to say you won't be a vampyre, too!"
"No, no you won't," said an old woman.
"I won't try," was the happy rejoinder; "I ain't a-going to carry a wampyre on my two legs home to my wife and small family of seven children, and another a-coming."
There was a pause for a few moments, and then one man more adventurous than the rest, exclaimed,β
"Well, vampyre, or no vampyre, his dead body can harm no one; so here goes to get it out, help me who will; once have it out, and then we can prevent any evil, by burning it, and thus destroying the whole body.
"Hurrah!" shouted three or four more, as they jumped down into the hole formed by the falling in of the materials which had crushed Marchdale to death, for it was his body they had discovered.
They immediately set to work to displace such of the materials as lay on the body, and then, having cleared it of all superincumbent rubbish, they proceeded to lift it up, but found that it had got entangled, as they called it, with some chains: with some trouble they got them off, and the body was lifted out to a higher spot.
"Now, what's to be done?" inquired one.
"Burn it," said another.
"Hurrah!" shouted a female voice; "we've got the wampyre! run a stake through his body, and then place him upon some dry wood,βthere's plenty to be had about here, I am sure,βand then burn him to a cinder."
"That's right, old woman,βthat's right," said a man; "nothing better: the devil must be in him if he come to life after that, I should say."
There might be something in that, and the mob shouted its approbation, as it was sure to do as anything stupid or senseless, and the proposal might be said to have been carried by acclamation, and it required only the execution.
This was soon done. There were plenty of laths and rafters, and the adjoining wood furnished an abundant supply of dry sticks, so there was no want of fuel.
There was a loud shout as each accession of sticks took place, and, as each individual threw his bundle into the heap, each man felt all the self-devotion to the task as the Scottish chieftain who sacrificed himself and seven sons in the battle for his superior; and, when one son was cut down, the man filled up his place with the exclamation,β"Another for Hector," until he himself fell as the last of his race.
Soon now the heap became prodigious, and it required an effort to get the mangled corpse upon this funeral bier; but it was then a shout from the mob that rent the air announced, both the fact and their satisfaction.
The next thing to be done was to light the pileβthis was no easy task; but like all others, it was accomplished, and the dead body of the vampyre's victim was thrown on to prevent that becoming a vampyre too, in its turn.
"There, boys," said one, "he'll not see the moonlight, that's certain, and the sooner we put a light to this the better; for it may be, the soldiers will be down upon us before we know anything of it; so now, who's got a light?"
This was a question that required a deal of searching; but, at length one was found by one of the mob coming forward, and after drawing his pipe vigorously for some moments, he collected some scraps of paper upon which he emptied the contents of the pipe, with the hope they would take fire.
In this, however, he was doomed to disappointment; for it produced nothing but a deal of smoke, and the paper burned without producing any flame.
This act of disinterestedness, however was not without its due consequences, for there were several who had pipes, and, fired with the hope of emulating the first projector of the scheme for raising the flame, they joined together, and potting the contents of their pipes together on some paper, straw, and chips, they produced, after some little trouble, a flame.
Then there was a shout, and the burning mass was then placed in a favourable position nearer the pile of materials collected for burning, and then, in a few moments, it began to take light; one piece communicated the fire to another, until the whole was in a blaze.
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