"And yet," remarked Henry, "I cannot help thinking it is too securely
hidden from us. The picture has been repeatedly removed from its place,
and produced no results; so that I fear we have little to expect from
any further or more protracted research."

"I think," said Varney, "that you have everything to expect. The words
of the dying Marmaduke Bannerworth, you may depend, were not spoken in
vain; and I have every reason to believe that, sooner or later, you
must, without question, become the possessors of that sum."

"But ought we rightly to hold it?"

"Who ought more rightly to hold it?" said Varney; "answer me that."

"That's a sensible enough idea of your's," said the admiral; "and if you
were twice over a vampyre, I would tell you so. It's a very sensible
idea; I should like to know who has more right to it than those who have
had such a world of trouble about it."

"Well, well," said Henry, "we must not dispute, as yet, about a sum of
money that may really never come to hand. For my own part, I have little
to hope for in the matter; but, certainly, nothing shall be spared, on
my part, to effect such a thorough search of the Hall as shall certainly
bring it to light, if it be in existence."

"I presume, Sir Francis Varney," said Charles Holland, "that you have
now completed your narrative?"

"I have. After events are well known to you. And, now, I have but to lie
down and die, with the hope of finding that rest and consolation in the
tomb which has been denied me hitherto in this world. My life has been a
stormy one, and full of the results of angry passions. I do hope now,
that, for the short time I have to live, I shall know something like
serenity, and die in peace."

"You may depend, Varney, that, as long as you have an asylum with us,"
said the admiral--"and that you may have as long as you like,--you may
be at peace. I consider that you have surrendered at discretion, and,
under such circumstances, an enemy always deserves honourable treatment,
and always gets it on board such a ship as this."

"There you go again," said Jack, "calling the house a ship."

"What's that to you, if I were to call it a bowsprit? Ain't I your
captain, you lubber, and so, sure to be right, while you are wrong, in
the natural order of things? But you go and lay down, Master Varney, and
rest yourself, for you seem completely done up."

Varney did look fearfully exhausted; and, with the assistance of Henry
and Charles,