to seek the shelter of his own
house, or to throw himself upon the care of the authorities of the town,
who must, to the extent of their power, have protected him, he struck
across the fields, apparently without aim or purpose, seemingly intent
upon nothing but to distance his pursuers in a long chase, which might
possibly tire them, or it might not, according to their or his powers of
endurance.

We say this seemed to be the case, but it was not so in reality. Sir
Francis Varney had a deeper purpose, and it was scarcely to be supposed
that a man of his subtle genius, and, apparently, far-seeing and
reflecting intellect, could have so far overlooked the many dangers of
his position as not to be fully prepared for some such contingency as
that which had just now occurred.

Holding, as he did, so strange a place in society--living among men, and
yet possessing so few attributes in common with humanity--he must all
along have felt the possibility of drawing upon himself popular
violence.

He could not wholly rely upon the secrecy of the Bannerworth family,
much as they might well be supposed to shrink from giving publicity to
circumstances of so fearfully strange and perilous a nature as those
which had occurred amongst them. The merest accident might, at any
moment, make him the town's talk. The overhearing of a few chance words
by some gossiping domestic--some ebullition of anger or annoyance by
some member of the family--or a communication from some friend who had
been treated with confidence--might, at any time, awaken around him some
such a storm as that which now raged at his heels.

Varney the vampire must have calculated this. He must have felt the
possibility of such a state of things; and, as a matter of course,
politicly provided himself with some place of refuge.

After about twenty minutes of hard chasing across the fields, there
could be no doubt of his intentions. He had such a place of refuge; and,
strange a one as it might appear, he sped towards it in as direct a line
as ever a well-sped arrow flew towards its mark.

That place of refuge, to the surprise of every one, appeared to be the
ancient ruin, of which we have before spoken, and which was so well
known to every inhabitant of the county.

Truly, it seemed like some act of mere desperation for Sir Francis
Varney to hope there to hide himself. There remained within, of what had
once been a stately pile, but a few grey crumbling walls, which t