I fancy I hear a footstep."

"Indeed; that were a novelty in such a place as this."

"And yet not more than I expected. Have you forgotten what I told you
when I reached here to-night after the appointed hour?"

"Truly; I had for the moment. Do you think then that the footstep which
now meets our ears, is that of the adventurer who boasted that he could
keep watch for the vampyre?"

"In faith do I. What is to be done with such a meddling fool?"

"He ought certainly to be taught not to be so fond of interfering with
other people's affairs."

"Certainly."

"Perchance the lesson will not be wholly thrown away upon others. It may
be worth while to take some trouble with this poor valiant fellow, and
let him spread his news so as to stop any one else from being equally
venturous and troublesome."

"A good thought."

"Shall it be done?"

"Yes; if you will arrange that which shall accomplish such a result."

"Be it so. The moon rises soon."

"It does."

"Ah, already I fancy I see a brightening of the air as if the mellow
radiance of the queen of night were already quietly diffusing itself
throughout the realms of space. Come further within the ruins."

They both walked further among the crumbling walls and fragments of
columns with which the place abounded. As they did so they paused now
and then to listen, and more than once they both heard plainly the sound
of certain footsteps immediately outside the once handsome and spacious
building.

Varney, the vampyre, who had been holding this conversation with no
other than Marchdale, smiled as he, in a whispered voice, told the
latter what to do in order to frighten away from the place the foolhardy
man who thought that, by himself, he should be able to accomplish
anything against the vampyre.

It was, indeed, a hair-brained expedition, for whether Sir Francis
Varney was really so awful and preternatural a being as so many
concurrent circumstances would seem to proclaim, or not, he was not a
likely being to allow himself to be conquered by anyone individual, let
his powers or his courage be what they might.

What induced this man to become so ventursome we shall now proceed to
relate, as well as what kind of reception he got in the old ruins,
which, since the mysterious disappearance of Sir Francis Varney within
their recesses, had possessed so increased a share of interest and
attracted so much popular attention and speculation.

CHAPTER LXIII.

THE