Varney the Vampyre 117A Rather Strange Circumstance at the Baron’s Wedding
18
Literature · Horror
Varney the Vampyre 117
A Rather Strange Circumstance at the Baron’s Wedding
RymerEnglish
At length, the hour came, so anxiously looked for and expected by all the Baron Stolmuyer’s guests; and the great clock which was in one of the turrets of Anderbury House proclaimed that the minute had arrived when all was presumed to be ready for the union.
All eyes were directed to a large table that was placed at one extremity of the hall, and covered with crimson velvet, and at which the ceremony was to be performed.
The Bannerworths were a little forward, so that they commanded a good view of everything, and James Anderson was completely hidden from observation behind the bulky form of the admiral. Now, a small door opened, and an archdeacon somebody—who had been engaged, as you would engage a celebrated performer, at some theatre, to perform the ceremony—made his appearance, accompanied by several ladies and gentlemen, whom he had brought with him to partake of some of the baron’s good things.
In a few moments, from another doorway, came the bride, accompanied by six bridesmaids, but she was covered with such a massive lace veil from her head to her feet, that not the slightest vestige of her countenance was visible.
But, still, Flora thought that, as the bride first came in, she heard from beneath that veil a deep and agonised sob; and she remarked the circumstance to Charles, who confirmed her opinion by at once saying,—
“It was so, and I don’t think it at all likely that we should both be mistaken.”
There was a slight murmur of applause and admiration among the assembled guests as the bride took her seat by the table; for although there were many there who had never seen her face, there were likewise many who had; and even those who had not, could not but perceive, by her graceful movements and the delicate outline of her figure, that they were looking upon a creature of rare beauty and worth.
It was astonishing that the bridegroom should be late, and the audience who were present began to be indignant at such a fact, and whispered together concerning it in language not very flattering to the baronet, who, had he heard it, would have found that he must mind what he was about, or his rapidly-acquired popularity would soon be at a discount.
Minute after minute thus passed, and Mrs. Williams, who was attired in a richly-flowing garment of white silk, embroidered with flowers, began to be in a most particular fidget.
“Where could be the baron—good God! where is the baron?” and some one or two said, “D—n the baron!” When suddenly the door at which the bride had entered was again flung open, and two servants in rich liveries made their appearance, one standing on each side of it. Then there was heard approaching a slow and measured footstep, and presently, attired in a court suit of rich velvet, the Baron Stolmuyer of Saltzburgh appeared in the hall, and marched up to the table.
He had but just time to execute half a bow to the assembled multitude, when Admiral Bell called out in a voice that awakened every echo in the place,—
“It’s Varney, the vampyre, by G—d!”
Yes, it was Varney—the bold, reckless, audacious Varney, who had thus come out in a new character, and, with vast pecuniary resources, acquired Heavens knows how or where, was seeking to ally himself to one so young and beautiful as Helen Williams.
We do absolutely and positively despair of giving an adequate idea to the reader of the scene that followed.
Ladies shrieked—the bride fainted—Mrs. Williams went into strong hysterics, and kicked everybody—Jack Pringle shouted until he was hoarse; while Varney turned and made a dash to escape through the door at which he had just entered.
James Anderson, however, by springing over a table, succeeded in clutching him by the collar behind; but Varney turned on the instant, and lifting him from the ground as if he had been a child, he flung him among a tray of confectionery and wine, and from thence he rolled into Mrs. Williams’s lap.
Following close, however, upon the footsteps of Anderson in pursuit of Varney had been Henry Bannerworth; but he accomplished nothing, except to strike his head violently against the door through which Varney escaped, and which was dashed in his face, and immediately bolted on the other side.
“He is a vampyre,” shouted the admiral—“I tell you all he is a vampyre—Varney, the vampyre, and no more a baron than I am a broomstick. Stop that d—d old woman from making such a noise.”
“It’s the bride’s mother,” said somebody.
“What’s that to me?” roared the admiral; “it don’t make her a bit less of a nuisance. I offer a hundred pounds reward for Varney, the vampyre; and there must be some people here that know the house well enough to catch him.”
“Do you mean a hundred pounds for master, sir?” said a great footman, with yellow plush breeches.
“Yes, I do, you hog in armour,” said the admiral.
The footman rushed through another doorway in a moment, and then Jack Pringle jumped upon a chair, and, waving his hat, cried,—
“Hurra, hurra, hurra! Three cheers for old Varney! I’ll tell you what it is, messmates, he is the meanest fellow as ever you see; and as for you ladies who have been disappointed of the marriage, I’ll come and kiss you all in a minute, and we’ll drink up old Varney’s wine, and eat up his dinner like bricks. My eye, what a game we will have, to be sure. I am coming——”
At this moment the admiral gave such a kick to one of the hind legs of the chair, that down came Jack as quickly as if he had disappeared through some trap-door.
“Hold your noise, will you,” said the admiral, “you great brawling brute!”
“I’ll settle him,” said Mrs. Williams, who had suddenly recovered; and had not Jack suddenly made his escape, it is highly probable she would have make him a regular scape-goat in the affair, and that he alone—for Anderson had pretty quickly escaped her—would have felt the consequences of her deep disappointment.
The confusion now became, if anything, worse than at first, for many of the guests who had looked on apparently quite stunned and paralyzed at what had taken place, now recovered, and joined their voices to the general clamour.
Some, to rush out of the place, took the opportunity of going through the different rooms; while a number, who had heard of the wide-spread fame of Varney, the vampyre, and who were utterly astonished to find him and the baron one and the same person, joined in the pursuit, with the hope of taking prisoner so alarming a personage.
No one knew for some time what had become of the clergyman, until Jack Pringle saw a human foot sticking out from under the table, upon which he took hold of it, and with a pull dragged the archdeacon somebody fairly out, to the great horror of some very religious old ladies who were present, who considered that an archdeacon must be somebody very wonderful indeed.
“Hilloa! Mr. Parson,” said Jack; “I suppose you thought it was your old friend the devil come for you before your time; but cheer up, I know him; it’s only a vampyre, and that’s nothing when you’re used to it.”
Jack did not seem at all to think that it was necessary he should assist in the capture of Varney, and probably the real fact was, he did not care whether Varney was captured or not, so he walked to one of the tables which were loaded with refreshments, and knocking the neck off a bottle of champagne, he gave a nod to Mrs. Williams, saying,—
“Come, old girl, take something to drink. That red nose of yours looks as if you knew something of the bottle. It’s only me, so you needn’t be shy. Ah, it’s devilish good wine, though. I do give old Varney credit for getting up the thing decently, which he certainly has, and no mistake.”
“Who has seen my daughter? Where is my daughter?” cried Mrs. Williams, as she looked about her in vain for Helen.
“You needn’t trouble yourself, ma’am,” said the admiral; “she has just walked off with a little fellow of the name of Anderson, who, although he was no match for Varney, the vampyre, I think will turn out to be one for your daughter.”
Mrs. Williams was thoroughly thunderstricken, and she sat down in a chair, and commenced wringing her hands, muttering as she did so,—
“Oh, that I should have lived to see this day. Oh, that I should have existed to be so—so——”
“Jolly well humbugged, ma’am,” said Jack Pringle, “with a vampyre, instead of a baron; why, lord bless you, ma’am, nobody in their senses would have taken old Varney for a baron; why, he is a regular old blood-sucker, he is, and a nice family you would have had; but, however, if you are fond of him, you can marry him yourself, you know, now; and I shouldn’t at all wonder, but he will consent, for a man will put up with any d—d old cat, when he finds he can’t get a better.”
“Good God,” said Mrs. Williams, “I think I know your voice now; ain’t you Admiral Green?”
“Avast, there,” said Jack; “I ain’t anything of the kind; they calls me Colonel Bluebottle, of the horse-marines.”
“The what?”
“The horse-marines. Didn’t you never hear of them, ma’am?”
“I certainly never did. But don’t try to deceive me, sir; you are Admiral Green and if you will, my dear sir, spare me a few minutes of your valuable time, I shall be able to explain to you——”
“What?” said Jack.
“Why, that really—you will scarcely believe it—but really, Admiral Green, my daughter Julia is, although I say it, one of the best of girls.”
“Oh, I dare say she is, ma’am; but I don’t know as that much matters to me.”
“Excuse me, Admiral Green, but it really does, and you must know—of course it’s quite between ourselves this—that she happened to see you when you did me the honour of calling upon me.”
“Did she really?”
“Yes, my dear admiral; and, do you know, ever since then she has been positively raving about you; and as you were good enough to say, the baron should not stand in the way of your affections, allow me to recommend Julia to you.”
“Oh, that’s it, is it!” said Jack. “Well, ma’am, I should not have said no, only that you ain’t half particular enough for me!”
“Not particular! Oh, good God.”
“No, ma’am, you ain’t. Here you would have married one of your daughters to a vampyre, and how do I know what other sort of odd fish you might bring into the family.”
“But, my dear Admiral——”
“Oh! gammon. I tell you what, now, I will do—I don’t mind standing something devilish handsome, if you will marry old Varney yourself.”
“What! the baron that was, and the vampyre that is? I marry him! Oh, dear, no, I really could not—that is to say, how much would you give, Admiral Green?”
“Ah!” said Jack, “I knew it. Who says, after this, that women won’t marry the very devil himself, if they only have the chance. And now, Mother Williams, I’ll just tell you what you have done. The fact is, I took a fancy to you myself, and that’s why I came here at all to-day. I meant to have proposed to you, and if you had only said you would not have the Baron Vampyre for any money, d—n it, I would have had you myself, and settled a matter of £15,000 a-year upon you.”
“Oh, gracious Providence! what do I hear?”
“Just what I says. I’m a man of my word, ma’am, and would have done it.”
Mrs. Williams was so affected at the chance she had lost, that she quite forgot to look after Helen, but was actually compelled to indulge herself with a glass or two of something strong and powerful, which she said was sherry, but which somebody else said was brandy, in order to recover from the faint feeling that would come over her.
After this, Jack thought he had had about the bitterest revenge upon Mrs. Williams that it was possible to achieve, and he was quite right as far as that went. The old admiral, too, who overheard some part of the colloquy, was quite delighted with it, and again told himself what a clever fellow Jack was, and quite a wonderful character in his way.
“Ah!” he said, “one would have to sail a tolerable lot of voyages before finding anybody as was exactly Jack’s equal; and I’ll be hanged if I don’t forgive him for the next piece of mutinous conduct he is guilty of, on account of the way he has served out that horrid old Mother Williams; for in all my life I never saw a woman I disliked more. Stop, what am I saying? Did I really forget Mrs. Chillingworth, the doctor’s wife? That was too bad.”
