“Charles, Charles,” said Henry, despondingly; “only consider for a moment into what new misery you may plunge poor Flora, who is, Heaven knows, already sufficiently afflicted, by attempting an enterprise which even we, who are your friends, may unwittingly cross you in the performance of.” “This is one in which I fear no such result. It cannot so happen. Do not urge me.” “Can’t you say at once what you think of doing?” said the old admiral. “What do you mean by turning your sails in all sorts of directions so oddly? You sneak, why don’t you be what do you call it—explicit?” “I cannot, uncle.” “What, are you tongue-tied?” “All here know well,” said Charles, “that if I do not unfold my mind fully, it is not that I fear to trust any one present, but from some other most special reason.” “Charles, I forbear to urge you further,” said Henry, “and only implore you to be careful.” At this moment the room door opened, and George Bannerworth, accompanied by Mr. Chillingworth, came in. “Do not let me intrude,” said the surgeon; “I fear, as I see you seated, gentlemen, that my presence must be a rudeness and a disturbance to some family consultation among yourselves?” “Not at all, Mr. Chillingworth,” said Henry. “Pray be seated; we are very glad indeed to see you. Admiral Bell, this is a friend on whom we can rely—Mr. Chillingworth.” “And one of the right sort, I can see,” said the admiral, as he shook Mr. Chillingworth by the hand. “Sir, you do me much honour,” said the doctor. “None at all, none at all; I suppose you know all about this infernal odd vampyre business?” “I believe I do, sir.” “And what do you think of it?” “I think time will develop the circumstances sufficiently to convince us all that such things cannot be.” “D—n me, you are the most sensible fellow, then, that I have yet met with since I have been in this neighbourhood; for everybody else is so convinced about the vampyre, that they are ready to swear by him.” “It would take much more to convince me. I was coming over here when I met Mr. George Bannerworth coming to my house.” “Yes,” said George, “and Mr. Chillingworth has something to tell us of a nature confirmatory of our own suspicions.” “It is strange,” said Henry; “but any piece of news, come it from what quarter it may, seems to be confirmatory, in some degree or another, of that dreadful belief in vampyres.” “Why,” said the doctor, “when Mr. George says that my news is of such a character, I think he goes a little too far. What I have to tell you, I do not conceive has anything whatever to do with the fact, or one fact of there being vampyres.” “Let us hear it,” said Henry. “It is simply this, that I was sent for by Sir Francis Varney myself.” “You sent for?”