esult was no to be expected, so long as he kept on towards
the dismal place he had pledged himself to reach.

As he traversed meadow after meadow he began to ask himself some
questions which he found that he could not answer exactly in a
consolatory manner, under the present state of things.

Among these question was the very pertinent one of,--"It's no argument
against vampyres, because I don't see the use of 'em--is it?" This he
was compelled to answer as he had put it; and when, in addition, he
began to recollect that, without the shadow of a doubt, Sir Francis
Varney the supposed vampyre, had been chased across the fields to that
very ruin whither he was bound, and had then and there disappeared, he
certainly found himself in decidedly uncomfortable and most unpromising
situation.

"No," he said, "no. Hang it, I won't go back now, to be made the
laughing-stock of the whole town, which I should be. Come what may of
it, I will go on as I have commenced; so I shall put on as stout a heart
as I can."

Then, having come to this resolve, he strove might and main to banish
from his mind those disagreeable reminiscences that had been oppressing
him, to turn his attention to subjects of a different complexion.

During the progress of making this endeavour, which was rather futile,
he came within sight of the ruins. Then he slackened his pace a little,
telling himself, with a pardonable self-deceit, that it was common,
ordinary caution only, which induced him to do so, and nothing at all in
the shape of fear.

"Time enough," he remarked, "to be afraid, when I see anything to be
afraid of, which I don't see as yet. So, as all's right, I may as well
put a good face upon the matter."

He tried to whistle a tune, but it turned out only a melancholy failure;
so he gave that up in despair, and walked on until he got within a
hundred yards, or thereabouts, of the old ruins.

He thus proceeded, and bending his ear close to the ground, he listened
attentively for several minutes. Somehow, he fancied that a strange,
murmuring sound came to his ears; but he was not quite sure that it
proceeded from the ruins, because it was just that sort of sound that
might come from a long way off, being mellowed by distance, although,
perhaps, loud enough at its source.

"Well, well," he whispered to himself, "it don't matter much, after all.
Go I must, and hide the handkerchiefs somewhere, or else be laughed at,
besides losing my wages. T