“Set down the light, and let us read them.”

Henry did so, and then they simultaneously opened the epistles which were severally addressed to them.  There was a silence, as of the very grave, for some moments, and then the old admiral staggered to a seat, as he exclaimed,—­

“Am I dreaming—­am I dreaming?”

“Is this possible?” said Henry, in a voice of deep emotion, as he allowed the note addressed to him to drop on to the floor.

“D—­n it, what does yours say?” cried the old admiral, in a louder tone.

“Read it—­what says yours?”

“Read it—­I’m amazed.”

The letters were exchanged, and read by each with the same breathless attention they had bestowed upon their own; after which, they both looked at each other in silence, pictures of amazement, and the most absolute state of bewilderment.

Not to keep our readers in suspense, we at once transcribe each of these letters.

The one to the admiral contained these words,—­

     “MY DEAR UNCLE,

     “Of course you will perceive the prudence of keeping this letter
     to yourself, but the fact is, I have now made up my mind to leave
     Bannerworth Hall.

     “Flora Bannerworth is not now the person she was when first I
     knew her and loved her.  Such being the case, and she having
     altered, not I, she cannot accuse me of fickleness.

     “I still love the Flora Bannerworth I first knew, but I cannot
     make my wife one who is subject to the visitations of a vampyre.

“I have remained here long enough now to satisfy myself that this vampyre business is no delusion.  I am quite convinced that it is a positive fact, and that, after death, Flora will herself become one of the horrible existences known by that name.

“I will communicate to you from the first large city on the continent whither I am going, at which I make any stay, and in the meantime, make what excuses you like at Bannerworth Hall, which I advise you to leave as quickly as you can, and believe me to be, my dear uncle, yours truly,

     “CHARLES HOLLAND.”

Henry’s letter was this:—­

     “MY DEAR SIR,

“If you calmly and dispassionately consider the painful and distressing circumstances in which your family are placed, I am sure that, far from blaming me for the step which this note will announce to you I have taken, you will be the first to give me credit for acting with an amount of prudence and foresight which was highly necessary under the circumstances.

“If the supposed visits of a vampyre to your sister Flora had turned out, as first I hoped they would, a delusion and been in any satisfactory manner explained away I should certainly have felt pride and pleasure in fulfilling my engagement to that young lady.

     “You must, however, yourself feel that the amount of evidence in
     favour of a belief that an actual vampyre has visited Flora,
     enforces a conviction of its truth.