She clutched his hand eagerly, as she said,--

"You will, Henry. You will, and not think it too much trouble, dear
Henry."

"It can be no trouble, Flora."

"Then I shall rest in peace, for I know that the dreadful vampyre cannot
come to me when you are by-"

"The what, Flora!"

"The vampyre, Henry. It was a vampyre."

"Good God, who told you so?"

"No one. I have read of them in the book of travels in Norway, which Mr.
Marchdale lent us all."

"Alas, alas!" groaned Henry. "Discard, I pray you, such a thought from
your mind."

"Can we discard thoughts. What power have we but from that mind, which
is ourselves?"

"True, true."

"Hark, what noise is that? I thought I heard a noise. Henry, when you
go, ring for some one first. Was there not a noise?"