makes no difference," said the admiral. "I'd as soon take a ship
manned with vampyres as with Frenchmen."

Henry started off upon his errand, certainly leaving the admiral and the
doctor in rather a critical situation while he was gone; for had Varney
the vampyre and the hangman chosen, they could certainly easily have
overcome so inefficient a force.

The admiral would, of course, have fought, and so might the doctor, as
far as his hands would permit him; but if the others had really been
intent upon mischief, they could, from their downright superior physical
power, have taken the lives of the two that were opposed to them.

But somehow the doctor appeared to have a great confidence in the
affair. Whether that confidence arose from what the vampyre had said
with regard to him, or from any hidden conviction of his own that they
would not yet emerge from the Hall, we cannot say; but certain it is, he
waited the course of events with great coolness.

No noise for some time came from the house; but then the sounds, as if
workmen were busy within it, were suddenly resumed, and with more vigour
than before.

It was nearly two hours before Henry made the private signal which had
been agreed upon as that which should proclaim his return; and then he
and his brother, with Charles, who, when he heard of the matter, would,
notwithstanding the persuasions of Flora to the contrary, come, got
quietly over the fence at a part of the garden which was quite hidden
from the house by abundant vegetation, and the whole three of them took
up a position that tolerably well commanded a view of the house, while
they were themselves extremely well hidden behind a dense mass of
evergreens.

"Did you see that rascal, Jack Pringle?" said the admiral.

"Yes," said Henry; "he is drunk."

"Ah, to be sure."

"And we had no little difficulty in shaking him off. He suspected where
we were going; but I think, by being peremptory, we got fairly rid of
him."

"The vagabond! if he comes here, I'll brain him, I will, the swab. Why,
lately he's done nothing but drink. That's the way with him. He'll go on
sometimes for a year and more, and not take more than enough to do him
good, and then all at once, for about six or eight weeks, he does
nothing but drink."

"Well, well, we can do without him," said Henry.

"Without him! I should think so. Do you hear those fellows in the Hall
at work? D--n me, if I haven't all of a sudden thought what the