ngerous."

"I care not."

"What if they were overheard now by unfriendly ears? What might not be
the uncomfortable results? I pray you be more cautious what you say of
this strange man."

"I must destroy him."

"And wherefore?"

"Can you ask? Is he not a vampyre?"

"Yes; but reflect, Henry, for a moment upon the length to which you
might carry out so dangerous an argument. It is said that vampyres are
made by vampyres sucking the blood of those who, but for that
circumstance, would have died and gone to decay in the tomb along with
ordinary mortals; but that being so attacked during life by a vampyre,
they themselves, after death, become such."

"Well--well, what is that to me?"

"Have you forgotten Flora?"

A cry of despair came from poor Henry's lips, and in a moment he seemed
completely, mentally and physically, prostrated.

"God of Heaven!" he moaned, "I had forgotten her!"

"I thought you had."

"Oh, if the sacrifice of my own life would suffice to put an end to all
this accumulating horror, how gladly would I lay it down. Ay, in any
way--in any way. No mode of death should appal me. No amount of pain
make me shrink. I could smile then upon the destroyer, and say,
'welcome--welcome--most welcome.'"

"Rather, Henry, seek to live for those whom you love than die for them.
Your death would leave them desolate. In life you may ward off many a
blow of fate from them."

"I may endeavour so to do."

"Consider that Flora may be wholly dependent upon such kindness as you
may be able to bestow upon her."

"Charles clings to her."

"Humph!"

"You do not doubt him?"

"My dear friend, Henry Bannerworth, although I am not an old man, yet I
am so much older than you that I have seen a great deal of the world,
and am, perhaps, far better able to come to accurate judgments with
regard to individuals."

"No doubt--no doubt; but yet--"

"Nay, hear me out. Such judgments, founded upon experience, when uttered
have all the character of prophecy about them. I, therefore, now
prophecy to you that Charles Holland will yet be so stung with horror at
the circumstance of a vampyre visiting Flora, that he will never make
her his wife."

"Marchdale, I differ from you most completely," said Henry. "I know that
Charles Holland is the very soul of honour."

"I cannot argue the matter with you. It has not become a thing of fact.
I have only sincerely to hope that I am wrong."

"You are, you may depend, entirely w