"We can ascend singly," said Marchdale; "but there is ample space for us all there to sit on the top of the wall and make our observations."
This was seen to be the case, and in about a couple of minutes they had taken up their positions on the wall, and, although the height was but trifling, they found that they had a much more extensive view than they could have obtained by any other means.
"To contemplate the beauty of such a night as this," said Mr. Chillingworth, "is amply sufficient compensation for coming the distance I have."
"And who knows," remarked Marchdale, "we may yet see something which may throw a light upon our present perplexities God knows that I would give all I can call mine in the world to relieve you and your sister, Henry Bannerworth, from the fearful effect which last night's proceedings cannot fail to have upon you."
"Of that I am well assured, Mr. Marchdale," said Henry. "If the happiness of myself and family depended upon you, we should be happy indeed."
"You are silent, Mr. Chillingworth," remarked Marchdale, after a slight pause.
"Hush!" said Mr. Chillingworth—"hush—hush!"
"Good God, what do you hear?" cried Henry.
The doctor laid his hand upon Henry's arm as he said—
"There is a young lime tree yonder to the right."
"Yes—yes."
"Carry your eye from it in a horizontal line, as near as you can, towards the wood."
Henry did so, and then he uttered a sudden exclamation of surprise, and pointed to a rising spot of ground, which was yet, in consequence of the number of tall trees in its vicinity, partially enveloped in shadow.
"What is that?" he said.
"I see something," said Marchdale. "By Heaven! it is a human form lying stretched there."
"It is—as if in death."
"What can it be?" said Chillingworth.
"I dread to say," replied Marchdale; "but to my eyes, even at this distance, it seems like the form of him we chased last night."
"The vampyre?"
"Yes—yes. Look, the moonbeams touch him. Now the shadows of the trees gradually recede. God of Heaven! the figure moves."
Henry's eyes were riveted to that fearful object, and now a scene presented itself which filled them all with wonder and astonishment, mingled with sensations of the greatest awe and alarm.
As the moonbeams, in consequence of the luminary rising higher and higher in the heavens, came to touch this figure that lay extended on the rising ground, a perceptible movement took place in it. The limbs appeared to tremble, and although it did not rise up, the whole body gave signs of vitality.
"The vampyre—the vampyre!" said Mr. Marchdale. "I cannot doubt it now. We must have hit him last night with the pistol bullets, and the moonbeams are now restoring him to a new life."
Henry shuddered, and even Mr. Chillingworth turned pale. But he was the first to recover himself sufficiently to propose some course of action, and he said—
"Let us descend and go up to this figure. It is a duty we owe to ourselves as much as to society."
"Hold a moment," said Mr. Marchdale, as he produced a pistol. "I am an unerring shot, as you well know, Henry. Before we move from this position we now occupy, allow me to try what virtue may be in a bullet to lay that figure low again."
"He is rising!" exclaimed Henry.
Mr. Marchdale levelled the pistol—he took a sure and deliberate aim, and then, just as the figure seemed to be struggling to its feet, he fired, and, with a sudden bound, it fell again.
"You have hit it," said Henry.
"You have indeed," exclaimed the doctor. "I think we can go now."
"Hush!" said Marchdale—"Hush! Does it not seem to you that, hit it as often as you will, the moonbeams will recover it?"
"Yes—yes," said Henry, "they will—they will."
"I can endure this no longer," said Mr. Chillingworth, as he sprung from the wall. "Follow me or not, as you please, I will seek the spot where this being lies."
"Oh, be not rash," cried Marchdale. "See, it rises again, and its form looks gigantic."
"I trust in Heaven and a righteous cause," said the doctor, as he drew the sword he had spoken of from the stick, and threw away the scabbard. "Come with me if you like, or I go alone."
Henry at once jumped down from the wall, and then Marchdale followed him, saying—
"Come on; I will not shrink."
They ran towards the piece of rising ground; but before they got to it, the form rose and made rapidly towards a little wood which was in the immediate neighbourhood of the hillock.
"It is conscious of being pursued," cried the doctor. "See how it glances back, and then increases its speed."
"Fire upon it, Henry," said Marchdale.
He did so; but either his shot did not take effect, or it was quite unheeded if it did, by the vampyre, which gained the wood before they could have a hope of getting sufficiently near it to effect, or endeavour to effect, a capture.
"I cannot follow it there," said Marchdale. "In open country I would have pursued it closely; but I cannot follow it into the intricacies of a wood."
"Pursuit is useless there," said Henry. "It is enveloped in the deepest gloom."
"I am not so unreasonable," remarked Mr. Chillingworth, "as to wish you to follow into such a place as that. I am confounded utterly by this affair."
"And I," said Marchdale. "What on earth is to be done?"
"Nothing—nothing!" exclaimed Henry, vehemently; "and yet I have, beneath the canopy of Heaven, declared that I will, so help me God! spare neither time nor trouble in the unravelling of this most fearful piece of business. Did either of you remark the clothing which this spectral appearance wore?"
"They were antique clothes," said Mr. Chillingworth, "such as might have been fashionable a hundred years ago, but not now."
"Such was my impression," added Marchdale.
"And such my own," said Henry, excitedly. "Is it at all within the compass of the wildest belief that what we have seen is a vampyre, and no other than my ancestor who, a hundred years ago, committed suicide?"
There was so much intense excitement, and evidence of mental suffering, that Mr. Chillingworth took him by the arm, saying—
"Come home—come home; no more of this at present; you will but make yourself seriously unwell."
"No—no—no."
