VARNEY, THE VAMPYRE; OR, THE FEAST OF BLOOD. CHAPTER CCX. [sic] [Chapter 213] THE ALARM FROM THE BELFRY. -- THE BEADLE IN A QUANDARY. "The belfry," cried Will Stephens. "Oh! if I could but reach the belfry." He went stumbling on, now falling, then gathering himself up again to renewed [exertions], for the stairs were steep and narrow, and although the little church tower was by no means very high yet the place where the bell hung was not to be reached in a moment. Perseverance, however, will do wonders[,] and it was reached at last. Yes, he stood panting in a little square building in the very centre of which hung a thick rope. It was the means of tolling the bell. To seize it was the work of a moment. The bell swung round and its iron tongue gave forth a loud and stunning sound. Again and again -- bang -- bang -- bang! went the bell, and then feeling that at all events he had given an alarm, Will Stephens turned to retrace his steps." He was half stupified by his previous fears. The noise of the bell, so close as he had been to it, had been stunning and bewildering, and Will Stephens reeled like a drunken man. The ale too might have a little to do with that, but certainly he made a false step, and down he went head foremost from top to bottom of those old steep, narrow belfry stairs. * * * * Will Stephens was right when he considered that the tolling of the bell would give an alarm. Most persons in the neighbourhood were awakened by it, and they listened to the seven or eight pealing sounds in surprise. What could they mean? Who was doing it? It could not be fire. Oh dear no. The alarm would not leave off it it were. Somebody dead -- ah, yes, it was some great person in the state dead, and the news had been brought there, and so the bell was tolled, and we shall hear all about it in the morning. And so those who had been awakened went to sleep again, and the unhappy sexton was left to his fate at the foot of the little stairs leading up to the belfry, where he had gone with so much trouble, and produced so little effect. The long weary hours of the night crept on, and at last the faint dawn of early morning showed itself upon the ocean, and in faint streaks of light in the glowing east. The fishermen began to ply their hazardous and hardy trade. The birds in the gardens, and in the old lime and yew trees that shaded the church-yard, shook off their slumbers. Gradually the light advanced, and a new day began. But there lay poor Stephens, the victim of what he had seen and heard in the old church, and he was doomed to lie some time longer yet. There was a Mr. Anthony Dorey, who was parish beadle, and he had awakened, and heard the sound of the tolling of the well-known bell. "I say, mother Dorey," he had said to better half, "what's that?" "How should I know, idiot," was the polite rejoinder. "Oh, very good[.]" "You had better get up and see.["] "Oh dear no. It's no business of mine; Master Wiggins is bell-ringer; I dare say it's something though." This was a wise conclusion for the beadle to come to, and he turned to go to sleep again, which was wise likewise, only more easy in the conception than in the execution, for his mind was more disturbed than he had though it possible anything could disturb it, by the tolling of the bell. Whenever he found himself just going off to sleep, he jumped awake again quite wide, crying, -- "Eh! eh! Was that the bell?" This sort of thing, varied by a great number of punches in the ribs from Mrs. Dorey, went on until the morning had sufficiently advanced to make it quite light enough to see objects with ordinary distinctness, and then, fancying that all his attempts to sleep would be futile, the vexed beadle rose. "I can't sleep, that's a clear case," he said, "so I will go and see what the bell was tolled for at such an odd time of the night. The more I think of it, the more I don't know what to think." Full of this resolution, he went post haste to Mr. Wiggins's and knocked loudly at his cottage door. "Hillo! hillo! Wiggins." "Well," said Wiggins, looking out of his bed-room window with his head picturesquely adorned by a red night-cap, "Well what's the matter now?" "That's what I want to know. Why did you toll the bell in the middle of the night?" "I toll the bell!" "Yes, to be sure, I heard it." "Yes, and I heard it too, but it was none of my tolling, and if I had not been rather indisposed, Mr. Dorey, I should have got up myself and seen what it was all about. As it is you find me cleaning myself rather early." "I'll wait for you, then," said Dorey. Wiggins soon made his appearance, and he and Dorey walked off together to the church, much pondering as they went, upon the mysterious circumstance that took them there, for if neither had rung the bell they could not think who had, for although the name of Will Stephens certainly occurred to them both, they thought it about one of the most unlikely things in the world that he would take the trouble to perform upon the great bell in the middle of the night, when it was none of his business to do so under any circumstances whatever. "Nonsense," said the beadle; "I hardly ever knew him do a very civil thing." "Nor I either, so you may depend, neighbour Dorey, it's not him." "It's a great mystery, neighbour Wiggins. That's what it is, and nothing else." "I hope it don't bode none of us no harm, that's all. Times are quite bad enough, without anything happening to make 'em worse." This sentiment, as any grumbling one always is, was acceded to by the beadle, and so they went on conversing until they reached the church door; and then the surprise of finding the smaller entrance open struck them, and they stood staring at each other for some moments in profound silence. "There's somebody here," said Wiggins at last. "In course." "What shall we do, Mr. Dorey? Do you think it's our duty to-- to go in and see who it is, or-- or run away? You know I aint a constable, but you are, so perhaps it alters the case so far as you are concerned, you see." "Not at all; you are a strong man, Mr. Wiggins, a very strong man; but suppose we try to make some one answer us. Here goes." The beadle advanced close to the threshold of the door, and in as loud a tone of voice as he could command, he said, -- "Ahem! -- ahem! -- Hilloa, hilloa! -- What are you at there? -- Come, come, I'm down upon you." "What do they say?" inquired Wiggins. "Nothing at all." "Then, perhaps, it's nobody." "Well, do you know, if I thought that, I'd go in at once, like a roaring lion-- I would-- and show 'em who I was-- ah!" "So would I-- so would .I" [sic] After listening for some short time longer, most intently, and hearing nothing, they came to the conclusion, that although some one had evidently been there, there was no one there now; so it would be quite safe to go into the church, always taking care to leave the door open, so that, in the event of any alarm, they could run away again, with all the precipitation in the world. It certainly was not one of the most hazardous exploits in the whole history of chivalrous proceedings to inter [sic] a church in day-light, as it then was, in search of some one, who it was very doubtful was there. But to have seen the beadle and Mr. Wiggins, anybody would have thought them bound upon an enterprise of life or death, and the latter the most likely of the two, by a great deal. "Ahem!" cried Mr. Dorey again; "we are two strong, bold fellows, and we have left our six companions-- all six feet high, at the door-- ahem!" No effect was produced by this speech, which Mr. Dorey fully intended should strike terror into somebody, and after a few minutes search, they both felt convinced that there was no one hidden in the lower part of the church, and there was only the gallery to search. And yet that was a ticklish job, for the nearer they approached the belfry, of course the nearer they approached the spot from whence the alarm had been given. It was therefore with rather a backwardness in going forward, that they both slowly proceeded up the staircase, and finally reached the gallery, where they saw no one; and much to their relief the want of any discovery was. "It's all right," said the beadle. "There's nobody here. Oh, how I do wish the rascals had only stayed, that's all. I'd a shewn them what a beadle was-- I'd a took 'em up in a twinkling-- I would. Lord bless you, Mr. Wiggins, you don't know what a desperate man I am, when I'm put to it, that you don't." "Perhaps not, but there don't seem to be any danger." "Not the least. Eh? eh? -- oh, the Lord have mercy upon us! I give in-- what's that? -- take my everything, but, oh! spare my life-- oh! oh! oh!" This panic of the beadle's was all owing to hearing somebody give a horrible groan -- such a groan that it was really dreadful to hear it. Mr. Wiggins, too, was much alarmed, and leant upon the front rail of the gallery, looking dreadfully pale and wan. The beadle's face looked quite of a purple hue, and he shook in every limb. "I-- I thought I saw a groan," he said. "So-- so-- did-- I-- oh, look-- then don't you hear a horrible bundle up in that corner. Oh, mercy! I begin to think we are as good as dead men-- that we are-- oh, that we are. What will become of us? -- what will become of us?" By this time, Will Stephens, who, the reader is aware, was there to make the groan, had got up from the foot of the belfry-stairs, and he began to drag hs bruised and stiffened frame towards the beadle and Mr. Wiggins, which they no sooner perceived than they set off as hard as they could scamper from the place, crying out for help, as if they had been pursued by a thousand devils. In vain Stephens called after them; they did not hear his voice, nor did they stop in their headlong flight until they reached the door of the clergyman, concerning whose power to banish all evil spirits into the Red Sea, they had a strong belief, and as the reverend gentleman was at breakfast, the first thing they both did was to rush in, and upset the tea-tray which the servant had just brought in. -+- Next Time: The Clergyman's Visit to the Vault. -- Rescue of the Sexton. +=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+ | This Varney the Vampyre e-text was entered by members of the | | Science Fiction Round Table #1 (SFRT1) on the Genie online | | service. | | The Varney Project, a reincarnation of this "penny dreadful" bit | | of fiction, was begun in November of 1993 by James Macdonald and | | should take about four years for re-serialization. | | These chapters are being posted once a week to the Round Table | | Bulletin Board and are also being placed in the Round Table File | | Library. | | For further information concerning Varney e-texts, please send | | email to: | | h.liu@juno.com | +=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+ ============================================================================== The Varney Project Chapter 213 Ver 1.00 01/25/1998 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ General notes on this chapter Source: H.Liu entry from the Arno edition, 1970, text is reprint of 1847 edition Drop capital: No Figures in source: 0 Page numbers in source: 813-816 Sections: 2 Approximate number of characters: Number of paragraphs: Comments: Chapter appears mis-numbered as CCX. Will Stephens, the terrified sexton who was witness to the work of Varney, eventually makes his way to the belfry and tolls the bell several times. He then begins his descent from the belfry, but the combination of terror, the loud bell sounds, and the residual effects of the ale cause Will to stumble and fall headlong down the steep belfry stairs, knocking him unconscious. The bell tolling was indeed heard by most everyone in the neighborhood, but most, it seems, concluded that it was due to the announcement of the death of a great statesman, and would be a matter that could wait until the morning. And so some more time passes, and dawn begins to break. We find ourselves with the beadle, a Mr. Dorey, who at first ignored the bell but by dawn decides he must investigate. He goes to the home of the bell ringer, Mr. Wiggins and finds him also arising earlier than normal due to the event of the previous night. Together the two go to the church and their suspicions are aroused when they find the door open. After some trepidation and some bluffing that they are part of a large party the two men finally enter the church and look around. They find no one on the main floor, and then begin to move towards the belfry. As they reach the level where the injured sexton lay, he begins to come too, making groaning sounds. The two men become terrified and run away, straight to the home of the clergyman, interrupting his breakfast. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Modification History Version Date Who What changes made -------- -------- ------------- ---------------------------------- 1.00 01/25/1998 H.Liu Initial gold version, rough proof read. ==================================End of File=================================