and crept towards the trap that led into the house, or out of
it, as the occasion might require.

"The vampyre! the vampyre!" shouted a man who stood on a garden wall,
holding on by the arm of an apple-tree.

"Varney, the vampyre!" shouted a second.

"Hurrah! boys, we are on the right scent; now for a hunt; hurrah! we
shall have him now."

They rushed in a tumultuous riot up the stone steps, and into the hall.
It was a large, spacious place, with a grand staircase that led up to
the upper floor, but it had two ends, and then terminated in a gallery.

It could not be defended by one man, save at the top, where it could not
long be held, because the assailants could unite, and throw their whole
weight against the entrance, and thus storm it. This actually happened.

They looked up, and, seeing nobody, they rushed up, some by one stair,
and some by the other; but it was dark; there were but few of the moon's
rays that pierced the gloom of that place, and those who first reached
the place which we have named, were seized with astonishment, staggered,
and fell.

Sir Francis Varney had met them; he stood there with a staff--something
he had found about the house--not quite so long as a broom-handle, but
somewhat thicker and heavier, being made of stout ash.

This formidable weapon, Sir Francis Varney wielded with strength and
resolution; he was a tall man, and one of no mean activity and personal
strength, and such a weapon, in his hands, was one of a most fearful
character, and, for the occasion, much better than his sword.

Man after man fell beneath the fearful brace of these blows, for though
they could not see Sir Francis, yet he could see them, or the
hall-lights were behind them at the time, while he stood in the dark,
and took advantage of this to deal murderous blows upon his assailants.

This continued for some minutes, till they gave way before such a
vigorous defence, and paused.

"On, neighbours, on," cried one; "will you be beaten off by one man?
Rush in at once and you must force him from his position--push him hard,
and he must give way."

"Ay," said one fellow who sat upon the ground rubbing his head; "it's
all very well to say push him hard, but if you felt the weight of that
d----d pole on your head, you wouldn't be in such a blessed hurry."

However true that might be, there was but little attention paid to it,
and a determined rush was made at the entrance to the gallery, and they
found tha