That the visitation had produced a serious effect upon all the household was sufficiently evident, as well among the educated as among the ignorant. On the second morning, Henry received notice to quit his service from the three servants he with difficulty had contrived to keep at the hall. The reason why he received such notice he knew well enough, and therefore he did not trouble himself to argue about a superstition to which he felt now himself almost compelled to give way; for how could he say there was no such thing as a vampyre, when he had, with his own eyes, had the most abundant evidence of the terrible fact? He calmly paid the servants, and allowed them to leave him at once without at all entering into the matter, and, for the time being, some men were procured, who, however, came evidently with fear and trembling, and probably only took the place, on account of not being able to procure any other. The comfort of the household was likely to be completely put an end to, and reasons now for leaving the hall appeared to be most rapidly accumulating. CHAPTER VII. THE VISIT TO THE VAULT OF THE BANNERWORTHS, AND ITS UNPLEASANT RESULT.—THE MYSTERY. Henry and his brother roused Flora, and after agreeing together that it would be highly imprudent to say anything to her of the proceedings of the night, they commenced a conversation with her in encouraging and kindly accents. “Well, Flora,” said Henry, “you see you have been quite undisturbed to-night.” “I have slept long, dear Henry.” “You have, and pleasantly too, I hope.” “I have not had any dreams, and I feel much refreshed, now, and quite well again.” “Thank Heaven!” said George. “If you will tell dear mother that I am awake, I will get up with her assistance.” The brothers left the room, and they spoke to each other of it as a favourable sign, that Flora did not object to being left alone now, as she had done on the preceding morning. “She is fast recovering, now, George,” said Henry. “If we could now but persuade ourselves that all this alarm would pass away, and that we should hear no more of it, we might return to our old and comparatively happy condition.” “Let us believe, Henry, that we shall.” “And yet, George, I shall not be satisfied in my mind, until I have paid a visit.” “A visit? Where?” “To the family vault.” “Indeed, Henry! I thought you had abandoned that idea.” “I had. I have several times abandoned it; but it comes across my mind again and again.” “I much regret it.” “Look you, George; as yet, everything that has happened has tended to confirm a belief in this most horrible of all superstitions concerning vampyres.” “It has.” “Now, my great object, George, is to endeavour to disturb such a state of things, by getting something, however slight, or of a negative character, for the mind to rest upon on the other side of the question.” “I comprehend you, Henry.”