the old stone which covered the entrance to the
dungeon, he was surprised to find it rolled from its place, and the
aperture open.

"What is the meaning of this?" he said; "how negligent of Sir Francis
Varney; or perhaps, after all, he was only jesting with me, and let the
prisoner go. If that should be the case, I am foiled indeed; but surely
he could not be so full of indiscretion."

Again came a dazzling flash of lightning, which now, surrounded by the
ruins as he was, made him shrink back and cover his eyes for a moment;
and then followed a peal of thunder with not half the duration of time
between it and the flash which had characterized the previous electric
phenomenon.

"The storm approaches fast," said Marchdale; "I must get my work done
quickly, if indeed my victim be here, which I begin seriously to doubt."

He descended the intricate winding passage to the vault below, which
served the purpose of a dungeon, and when he got very nearly into the
depth of its recesses, he called aloud, saying,--

"Ho! what ho! is there any one here?"--"Yes," said Charles Holland, who
fancied it might be his former visitor returned. "Have you come to
repent of your purpose?"

"Ah!" said Marchdale to himself, "Sir Francis, after all, has told me
the truth--the prisoner is still here."

The light from without was not near sufficient to send the least ray
into the depths of that dungeon; so that Marchdale, when he entered the
place, could see nothing but an absolute blackness.

It was not so, however, with Charles Holland, whose eyes had been now so
long accustomed to the place that he could see in it as if a dim
twilight irradiated it, and he at once, in his visitor, saw his worst
foe, and not the man who had comparatively set him free.

He saw, too, that the hand of his visitor grasped a weapon, which
Marchdale thought that, favoured by the darkness, he might carry openly
in perfect security.

"Where are you?" said Marchdale; "I cannot see you."--"Here!" said
Charles, "you may feel my grip;" and he sprung upon him in an instant.

The attack was so sudden and so utterly unexpected, that Marchdale was
thrown backwards, and the dagger wrested from his grasp, during the
first impulse which Charles Holland had thrown into his attack.

Moreover, his head struck with such violence against the earthern floor,
that it produced a temporary confusion of his faculties, so that, had
Charles Holland been so inclined, he might, wi