CHAPTER XCIV.—THE VISITOR, AND THE DEATH IN THE SUBTERRANEAN PASSAGE.
CHAPTER XCV.—THE MARRIAGE IN THE BANNERWORTH FAMILY ARRANGED.
Chapter xcvi.—The baron takes Anderbury house, and decides upon giving A grand entertainment.
The unprecedented success of the romance of “Varney the Vampyre,” leaves the Author but little to say further, than that he accepts that success and its results as gratefully as it is possible for any one to do popular favours.
A belief in the existence of Vampyres first took its rise in Norway and Sweden, from whence it rapidly spread to more southern regions, taking a firm hold of the imaginations of the more credulous portion of mankind.
The following romance is collected from seemingly the most authentic sources, and the Author must leave the question of credibility entirely to his readers, not even thinking that he his peculiarly called upon to express his own opinion upon the subject.
Nothing has been omitted in the life of the unhappy Varney, which could tend to throw a light upon his most extraordinary career, and the fact of his death just as it is here related, made a great noise at the time through Europe and is to be found in the public prints for the year 1713.
With these few observations, the Author and Publisher, are well content to leave the work in the hands of a public, which has stamped it with an approbation far exceeding their most sanguine expectations, and which is calculated to act as the strongest possible incentive to the production of other works, which in a like, or perchance a still further degree may be deserving of public patronage and support.
To the whole of the Metropolitan Press for their laudatory notices, the Author is peculiarly obliged.
London Sep. 1847
VARNEY, THE VAMPYRE;
THE FEAST OF BLOOD
graves give up their dead.
And how the night air hideous grows
Midnight.—The hail-storm.—The dreadful visitor.—The vampyre.
The solemn tones of an old cathedral clock have announced midnight—the air is thick and heavy—a strange, death like stillness pervades all nature. Like the ominous calm which precedes some more than usually terrific outbreak of the elements, they seem to have paused even in their ordinary fluctuations, to gather a terrific strength for the great effort. A faint peal of thunder now comes from far off. Like a signal gun for the battle of the winds to begin, it appeared to awaken them from their lethargy, and one awful, warring hurricane swept over a whole city, producing more devastation in the four or five minutes it lasted, than would a half century of ordinary phenomena.