Heaven. From it streamed one beam of sunlight, so bright, so dazzling,
and so beautiful, that it was a sight of wonder to look upon. It fell
upon the face of Flora; it warmed her cheek; it lent lustre to her pale
lips and tearful eyes; it illumined that little summer-house as if it
had been the shrine of some saint.

"Behold!" cried Charles, "where is your omen now?"

"God of Heaven!'" cried Flora; and she stretched out her arms.

"The clouds that hover over your spirit now," said Charles, "shall pass
away. Accept this beam of sunlight as a promise from God."

"I will--I will. It is going."

"It has done its office."

The clouds closed over the small orifice, and all was gloom again as
before.

"Flora," said Charles, "you will not ask me now to leave you?"

She allowed him to clasp her to his heart. It was beating for her, and
for her only.

"You will let me, Flora, love you still?"

Her voice, as she answered him, was like the murmur of some distant
melody the ears can scarcely translate to the heart.

"Charles we will live, love, and die together."

And now there was a wrapt stillness in that summer-house for many
minutes--a trance of joy. They did not speak, but now and then she would
look into his face with an old familiar smile, and the joy of his heart
was near to bursting in tears from his eyes.

A shriek burst from Flora's lips--a shriek so wild and shrill that it
awakened echoes far and near. Charles staggered back a step, as if shot,
and then in such agonised accents as he was long indeed in banishing the
remembrance of, she cried,--

"The vampyre! the vampyre!"

CHAPTER XVII.

THE EXPLANATION.--THE ARRIVAL OF THE ADMIRAL AT THE HOUSE.--A SCENE OF
CONFUSION, AND SOME OF ITS RESULTS.

[Illustration]

So sudden and so utterly unexpected a cry of alarm from Flora, at such a
time might well have the effect of astounding the nerves of any one, and
no wonder that Charles was for a few seconds absolutely petrified and
almost unable to think.

Mechanically, then, he turned his eyes towards the door of the
summer-house, and there he saw a tall, thin man, rather elegantly
dressed, whose countenance certainly, in its wonderful resemblance to
the portrait on the panel, might well appal any one.

The stranger stood in the irresolute attitude on the threshold of the
summer-house of one who did not wish to intrude, but who found it as
awkward, if not more so now, to retreat than to advance