He raised the wine to his lips, and seemed to drink, after which he replaced the glass upon the table.
Charles glanced at it, it was still full.
"You have not drank, Sir Francis Varney," he said.
"Pardon me, enthusiastic young sir," said Varney, "perhaps you will have the liberality to allow me to take my wine how I please and when I please."
"Your glass is full."
"Well, sir?"
"Will you drink it?"
"Not at any man's bidding, most certainly. If the fair Flora Bannerworth would grace the board with her sweet presence, methinks I could then drink on, on, on."
"Hark you, sir," cried Charles, "I can bear no more of this. We have had in this house most horrible and damning evidence that there are such things as vampyres."
"Have you really? I suppose you eat raw pork at supper, and so had the nightmare?"
"A jest is welcome in its place, but pray hear me out, sir, if it suit your lofty courtesy to do so."
"Oh, certainly."
"Then I say we believe, as far as human judgment has a right to go, that a vampyre has been here."
"Go on, it's interesting. I always was a lover of the wild and the wonderful."
"We have, too," continued Charles, "some reason to believe that you are the man."
Varney tapped his forehead as he glanced at Henry, and said—
"Oh, dear, I did not know. You should have told me he was a little wrong about the brain; I might have quarreled with the lad. Dear me, how lamentable for his poor mother."
"This will not do, Sir Francis Varney alias Bannerworth."
"Oh—oh! Be calm—be calm."
"I defy you to your teeth, sir! No, God, no! Your teeth!"
"Poor lad! Poor lad!"
"You are a cowardly demon, and here I swear to devote myself to your destruction."
Sir Francis Varney drew himself up to his full height, and that was immense, as he said to Henry—
"I pray you, Mr. Bannerworth, since I am thus grievously insulted beneath your roof, to tell me if your friend here be mad or sane?"
"He's not mad."
"Then—"
"Hold, sir! The quarrel shall be mine. In the name of my persecuted sister—in the name of Heaven. Sir Francis Varney, I defy you."
Sir Francis, in spite of his impenetrable calmness, appeared somewhat moved, as he said—
"I have already endured insult sufficient—I will endure no more. If there are weapons at hand—"
"My young friend," interrupted Mr. Marchdale, stepping between the excited men, "is carried away by his feelings, and knows not what he says. You will look upon it in that light, Sir Francis."
"We need no interference," exclaimed Varney, his hitherto bland voice changing to one of fury. "The hot blooded fool wishes to fight, and he shall—to the death—to the death."
"And I say he shall not," exclaimed Mr. Marchdale, taking Henry by the arm. "George," he added, turning to the young man, "assist me in persuading your brother to leave the room. Conceive the agony of your sister and mother if anything should happen to him."
Varney smiled with a devilish sneer, as he listened to these words, and then he said—
"As you will—as you will. There will be plenty of time, and perhaps better opportunity, gentlemen. I bid you good day."
And with provoking coolness, he then moved towards the door, and quitted the room.
"Remain here," said Marchdale; "I will follow him, and see that he quits the premises."
He did so, and the young men, from the window, beheld Sir Francis walking slowly across the garden, and then saw Mr. Marchdale follow on his track.
While they were thus occupied, a tremendous ringing came at the gate, but their attention was so rivetted to what was passing in the garden, that they paid not the least attention to it.
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE ADMIRAL'S ADVICE.—THE CHALLENGE TO THE VAMPYRE.—THE NEW SERVANT AT THE HALL.
The violent ringing of the bell continued uninterruptedly until at length George volunteered to answer it. The fact was, that now there was no servant at all in the place for, after the one who had recently demanded of Henry her dismissal had left, the other was terrified to remain alone, and had precipitately gone from the house, without even going through the ceremony of announcing her intention to. To be sure, she sent a boy for her money afterwards, which may be considered a great act of condescension.
Suspecting, then, this state of things, George himself hastened to the gate, and, being not over well pleased at the continuous and unnecessary ringing which was kept up at it, he opened it quickly, and cried, with more impatience, by a vast amount, than was usual with him.
"Who is so impatient that he cannot wait a seasonable time for the door to be opened?"
"And who the d——l are you?" cried one who was immediately outside.
"Who do you want?" cried George.
"Shiver my timbers!" cried Admiral Bell, for it was no other than that personage. "What's that to you?"
"Ay, ay," added Jack, "answer that if you can, you shore-going-looking swab."
"Two madmen, I suppose," ejaculated George, and he would have closed the gate upon them; but Jack introduced between it and the post the end of a thick stick, saying—
"Avast there! None of that; we have had trouble enough to get in. If you are the family lawyer, or the chaplain, perhaps you'll tell us where Mister Charley is."
"Once more I demand of you who you want?" said George, who was now perhaps a little amused at the conduct of the impatient visitors.
"We want the admiral's nevey" said Jack.
"But how do I know who is the admiral's nevey as you call him."
"Why,
