uffice it to say that he
felt nothing shaken as regarded his resolve to meet Varney the Vampyre,
and that he made up his mind the conflict should be one of life or
death.

"It must be so," he said. "It must be so. Either he or I must fall in
the fight which shall surely be."

He now sought Flora, for how soon might he now be torn from her for ever
by the irresistible hand of death. He felt that, during the few brief
hours which now would only elapse previous to his meeting with Sir
Francis Varney, he could not enjoy too much of the society of her who
reigned supreme in his heart, and held in her own keeping his best
affections.

But while Charles is thus employed, let us follow his uncle and Jack
Pringle to the residence of Varney, which, as the reader is aware, was
so near at hand that it required not many minutes' sharp walking to
reach it.

The admiral knew well he could trust Jack with any secret, for long
habits of discipline and deference to the orders of superiors takes off
the propensity to blabbing which, among civilians who are not accustomed
to discipline, is so very prevalent. The old man therefore explained to
Jack what he meant to do, and it received Jack's full approval; but as
in the enforced detail of other matters it must come out, we will not
here prematurely enter into the admiral's plans.

When they reached the residence of Sir Francis Varney, they were
received courteously enough, and the admiral desired Jack to wait for
him in the handsome hall of the house, while he was shewn up stairs to
the private room of the vampyre.

"Confound the fellow!" muttered the old admiral, "he is well lodged at
all events. I should say he was not one of those sort of vampyres who
have nowhere to go to but their own coffins when the evening comes."

The room into which the admiral was shewn had green blinds to it, and
they were all drawn down. It is true that the sun was shining brightly
outside, although transiently, but still a strange green tinge was
thrown over everything in the room, and more particularly did it appear
to fall upon the face of Varney, converting his usually sallow
countenance into a still more hideous and strange colour. He was sitting
upon a couch, and, when the admiral came in, he rose, and said, in a
deep-toned voice, extremely different to that he usually spoke in,--

"My humble home is much honoured, sir, by your presence in it."

"Good morning," said the admiral. "I have come to