eak, when suddenly
there came the sound of a footstep across the garden. It was slow but
unsteady, and paused between whiles until it came close beneath the
windows. They remained silent, and then some one was heard to climb up
the rails of the veranda, and then the curtains were thrust aside, but
not till after the person outside had paused to ascertain who was there.

Then the curtains were opened, and the visage of Sir Francis Varney
appeared, much altered; in fact, completely worn and exhausted.

It was useless to deny it, but he looked ghastly--terrific; his singular
visage was as pallid as death; his eyes almost protruding, his mouth
opened, and his breathing short, and laboured in the extreme.

He climbed over with much difficulty, and staggered into the room, and
would have spoken, but he could not; befell senseless upon the floor,
utterly exhausted and motionless.

There was a long pause, and each one present looked at each other, and
then they gazed upon the inanimate body of Sir Francis Varney, which lay
supine and senseless in the middle of the floor.

* * * *

The importance of the document, said to be on the dead body, was such
that it would admit of no delay before it was obtained, and the party
determined that it should be commenced instanter. Lost time would be an
object to them; too much haste could hardly be made; and now came the
question of, "should it be to-night, or not?"

"Certainly," said Henry Bannerworth; "the sooner we can get it, the
sooner all doubt and distress will be at an end; and, considering the
turn of events, that will be desirable for all our sakes; besides, we
know not what unlucky accident may happen to deprive us of what is so
necessary."

"There can be none," said Mr. Chillingworth; "but there is this to be
said, this has been such an eventful history, that I cannot say what
might or what might not happen."

"We may as well go this very night," said Charles Holland. "I give my
vote for an immediate exhumation of the body. The night is somewhat
stormy, but nothing more; the moon is up, and there will be plenty of
light."

"And rain," said the doctor.

"Little or none," said Charles Holland. "A few gusts of wind now and
then drive a few heavy plashes of rain against the windows, and that
gives a fearful sound, which is, in fret, nothing, when you have to
encounter it; but you will go, doctor?"

"Yes, most certainly. We must have some tools."

"Those may be had fr