a secret, and as the infuriated
mob, who had sought this flagrant means of giving vent to their anger,
saw the flames from the blazing house rising high in the heavens, they
felt convinced that further secrecy was out of the question.

Accordingly, in such cries and shouts as--but for caution's sake--they
would have indulged in from the very first, they now gave utterance to
their feelings as regarded the man whose destruction was aimed at.

"Death to the vampyre!--death to the vampyre!" was the principal shout,
and it was uttered in tones which sounded like those of rage and
disappointment.

But it is necessary, now that we have disposed of the smaller number of
rioters who committed so serious an outrage at the inn, that we should,
with some degree of method, follow the proceedings of the larger number,
who went from the town towards Sir Francis Varney's.

These persons either had information of a very positive nature, or a
very strong suspicion that, notwithstanding the mysterious and most
unaccountable disappearance of the vampyre in the old ruin, he would now
be found, as usual, at his own residence.

Perhaps one of his own servants may have thus played the traitor to him;
but however it was, there certainly was an air of confidence about some
of the leaders of the tumultuous assemblage that induced a general
belief that this time, at least, the vampyre would not escape popular
vengeance for being what he was.

We have before noticed that these people went out of the town at
different points, and did not assemble into one mass until they were at
a sufficient distance off to be free from all fear of observation.

Then some of the less observant and cautious of them began to indulge in
shouts of rage and defiance; but those who placed themselves foremost
succeeded in procuring a halt, and one said,--

"Good friends all, if we make any noise, it can only have one effect,
and that is, to warn Sir Francis Varney, and enable him to escape. If,
therefore, we cannot go on quietly, I propose that we return to our
homes, for we shall accomplish nothing."

This advice was sufficiently and evidently reasonable to meet with no
dissension; a death-like stillness ensued, only broken by some two or
three voices saying, in subdued tones,--

"That's right--that's right. Nobody speak."

"Come on, then," said he who had given such judicious counsel; and the
dark mass of men moved towards Sir Francis Varney's house, as qui