Girl, I come to rescue you from a thraldom of the soul under which you now labour." There was a pause of some moments' duration, and then, faintly, Flora managed to say,-- "Help! help! Oh, help me, Heaven!" Varney made a gesture of impatience, as he said,-- "Heaven works no special matters now.

Flora Bannerworth, if you have as much intellect as your nobility and beauty would warrant the world in supposing, you will listen to me." "I--I hear," said Flora, as she still, dragging the chair with her, increased the distance between them.
"'Tis well.

You are now more composed." She fixed her eyes upon the face of Varney with a shudder.

There could be no mistake.

It was the same which, with the strange, glassy looking eyes, had glared upon her on that awful night of the storm when she was visited by the vampyre.