patiently; and, at the end, burst out with,--

"Why, doctor, you must be dreaming."

At this, Dr. Chillingworth at once left him, and advancing to his
friends, he said,--

"Sir Francis Varney denies in toto all that I have related to you
concerning him; therefore, I can say no more than that I earnestly
recommend you, before you let him go, to see that he takes nothing of
value with him."

"Why, what can you mean?" said Varney.

"Search him," said the doctor; "I will tell you why, very shortly."

"Indeed--indeed!" said Sir Francis Varney. "Now, gentlemen, I will give
you a chance of behaving justly and quietly, so saving yourself the
danger of acting otherwise. I have made repeated offers to take this
house, either as a tenant or as a purchaser, all of which offers have
been declined, upon, I dare say, a common enough principle, namely, one
which induces people to enhance the value of anything they have for
disposal, if it be unique, by making it difficult to come at. Seeing
that you had deserted the place, I could make no doubt but that it was
to be had, so I came here to make a thorough examination of its
interior, to see if it would suit me. I find that it will not;
therefore, I have only to apologise for the intrusion, and to wish you a
remarkably good evening."

"That won't do," said the doctor.

"What won't do, sir?"

"This excuse will not do, Sir Francis Varney. You are, although you deny
it, the man who was hanged in London some years ago for a highway
robbery."

Varney laughed, and held up his hands, exclaiming,--

"Alas! alas! our good friend, the doctor, has studied too hard; his
wits, probably, at the best of times, none of the clearest, have become
hopelessly entangled."

"Do you deny," said Henry, "then, that you are that man?"

"Most unequivocally."

"I assert it," said the doctor, "and now, I will tell you all, for I
perceive you hesitate about searching, Sir Francis Varney, I tell you
all why it is that he has such an affection for Bannerworth Hall."

"Before you do," said Varney, "there is a pill for you, which you may
find more nauseous and harder of digestion, than any your shop can
furnish."

As Varney uttered these words, he suddenly drew from his pocket a
pistol, and, levelling it at the unfortunate doctor, he fired it full at
him.

The act was so sudden, so utterly unexpected, and so stunning, that it
was done before any one could move hand or foot to prevent it. Henry
Ba