ppointment with the
boy who had promised to conduct him to the hiding-place of Sir Francis
Varney.

He had not proceeded far, however, before he began to suspect that he
was followed, as it was evident on the instant that he altered his
course; for, instead of walking down the lane, where the boy was waiting
for him, he went right on, and seemed desirous of making his way into
the open country between the town and Bannerworth Hall.

His pursuers--for they assumed that character--when they saw this became
anxious to intercept him; and thinking that the greater force they had
the better, they called out aloud as they passed a smithy, where a man
was shoeing a horse,--

"Jack Burdon, here is another vampyre!"

"The deuce there is!" said the person who was addressed. "I'll soon
settle him. Here's my wife gets no sleep of a night as it is, all owing
to that Varney, who has been plaguing us so long. I won't put up with
another."

So saying, he snatched from a hook on which it hung, an old
fowling-piece, and joined the pursuit, which now required to be
conducted with some celerity, for the stranger had struck into the open
country, and was getting on at good speed.

The last remnants of the twilight were fading away, and although the
moon had actually risen, its rays were obscured by a number of light,
fleecy clouds, which, although they did not promise to be of long
continuance, as yet certainly impeded the light.

"Where is he going?" said the blacksmith. "He seems to be making his way
towards the mill-stream."

"No," said another; "don't you see he is striking higher up towards the
old ford, where the stepping-stones are!"

"He is--he is," cried the blacksmith. "Run on--run on; don't you see he
is crossing it now? Tell me, all of you, are you quite sure he is a
vampyre, and no mistake? He ain't the exciseman, landlord, now, is he?"

"The exciseman, the devil! Do you think I want to shoot the exciseman?"

"Very good--then here goes," exclaimed the Smith.

He stooped, and just as the brisk night air blew aside the clouds from
before the face of the moon, and as the stranger was crossing the
slippery stones, he fired at him.

* * * * *

How silently and sweetly the moon's rays fall upon the water, upon the
meadows, and upon the woods. The scenery appeared the work of
enchantment, some fairy land, waiting the appearance of its inhabitants.
No sound met the ear; the very wind was