God of Heaven! let me hear it." "A _vampyre_!" Henry sprung to his feet.

His whole frame quivered with emotion; the drops of perspiration stood upon his brow, as, in, a strange, hoarse voice, he repeated the words,-- "A vampyre!" "Even so; one who has to renew a dreadful existence by human blood--one who lives on for ever, and must keep up such a fearful existence upon human gore--one who eats not and drinks not as other men--a vampyre." Henry dropped into his scat, and uttered a deep groan of the most exquisite anguish.
"I could echo that groan," said Marchdale, "but that I am so thoroughly bewildered I know not what to think." "Good God--good God!" "Do not too readily yield belief in so dreadful a supposition, I pray you." "Yield belief!" exclaimed Henry, as he rose, and lifted up one of his hands above his head.

"No; by Heaven, and the great God of all, who there rules, I will not easily believe aught so awful and so monstrous." "I applaud your sentiment, Henry; not willingly would I deliver up myself to so frightful a belief--it is too horrible.

I merely have told you of that which you saw was on my mind.

You have surely before heard of such things." "I have--I have." "I much marvel, then, that the supposition did not occur to you, Henry." "It did not--it did not, Marchdale.