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Ryan Gomez
Ryan Gomez

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Mr. Barton was next morning sitting at a late breakfast, reflecting upon the incidents of the previous night, with more of inquisitiveness than awe, so speedily do gloomy impressions upon the fancy disappear under the cheerful influence of day, when a letter just delivered by the postman was placed upon the table before him.

As we were walking in at the passage from College-Green, a man, of whom I remember only that he was short in stature, looked like a foreigner, and wore a kind of fur travelling-cap, walked very rapidly, and as if under fierce excitement, directly towards us, muttering to himself, fast and vehemently the while.

The figure was just turning from the rails of the area upon which it had been leaning, and, without waiting to see more, the old gentleman snatched his cane and hat, and rushed down the stairs and into the street, in the furious hope of securing the person, and punishing the audacity of the mysterious stranger.

This intangible, and, as it seemed, utterly inadequate influence was fast destroying his energies of intellect, character, and health. His first object was now to return to Ireland, there, as he believed, and now almost hoped, speedily to die.

He did not attempt to describe his sensations as these figures passed so near him. He merely said, that so far from sleeping in that room again, no consideration the world could offer would induce him so much as to enter it again alone, even in the daylight. He found both doors, that of the closet, and that of the room opening upon the lobby, in the morning fast locked, as he had left them before going to bed.

He started up, and half pushed his chair from the table. He quickly sat down again, and I could hear him sacré-ing and muttering to himself, and grinning and scowling. I could not tell whether he was alarmed or furious.

I was soon within sight of the lights of the Belle Etoile. A carriage, with four horses, stood in the moonlight at the door, and a furious altercation was going on in the hall, in which the yell of Colonel Gaillarde out-topped all other sounds.

When this was done, Doctor Planard said he would go to the hall to summon the men who were to carry the coffin out and place it in the hearse. The Count pulled on his black gloves, and held his white handkerchief in his hand, a very impressive chief-mourner. He stood a little behind the head of the coffin, awaiting the arrival of the persons who accompanied Planard, and whose fast steps he soon heard approaching.

The Colonel, his younger brother, had been furious about the disappearance of Gabriel, and still more so about that of his money, which he had long regarded as his proper keepsake, whenever death should remove his brother from the vexations of living. He had suspected for a long time, for certain adroitly discovered reasons, that the Count de St. Alyre and the beautiful lady, his companion, countess, or whatever else she was, had pigeoned him. To this suspicion were added some others of a still darker kind; but in their first shape, rather the exaggerated reflections of his fury, ready to believe anything, than well-defined conjectures.

Two or three minutes at most I think she remained thus employed, then she turned, and a few steps brought her to where her daughter lay, supported by Madame Perrodon. She kneeled beside her for a moment and whispered, as Madame supposed, a little benediction in her ear; then hastily kissing her she stepped into her carriage, the door was closed, the footmen in stately liveries jumped up behind, the outriders spurred on, the postillions cracked their whips, the horses plunged and broke suddenly into a furious canter that threatened soon again to become a gallop, and the carriage whirled away, followed at the same rapid pace by the two horsemen in the rear.

I cannot call it a nightmare, for I was quite conscious of being asleep. But I was equally conscious of being in my room, and lying in bed, precisely as I actually was. I saw, or fancied I saw, the room and its furniture just as I had seen it last, except that it was very dark, and I saw something moving round the foot of the bed, which at first I could not accurately distinguish. But I soon saw that it was a sooty-black animal that resembled a monstrous cat. It appeared to me about four or five feet long, for it measured fully the length of the hearthrug as it passed over it; and it continued to-ing and fro-ing with the lithe sinister restlessness of a beast in a cage. I could not cry out, although as you may suppose, I was terrified. Its pace was growing faster, and the room rapidly darker and darker, and at length so dark that I could no longer see anything of it but its eyes. I felt it spring lightly on the bed. The two broad eyes approached my face, and suddenly I felt a stinging pain as if two large needles darted, an inch or two apart, deep into my breast. I waked with a scream. The room was lighted by the candle that burnt there all through the night, and I saw a female figure standing at the foot of the bed, a little at the right side. It was in a dark loose dress, and its hair was down and covered its shoulders. A block of stone could not have been more still. There was not the slightest stir of respiration. As I stared at it, the figure appeared to have changed its place, and was now nearer the door; then, close to it, the door opened, and it passed out.

The stranger, having seen all this, came down from the steeple, took the linen wrappings of the vampire, and carried them up to the top of the tower, which he again mounted. When the vampire returned from his prowlings and missed his clothes, he cried furiously to the Moravian, whom he saw at the summit of the tower, and who, in reply, beckoned him to ascend and take them. Whereupon the vampire, accepting his invitation, began to climb the steeple, and so soon as he had reached the battlements, the Moravian, with a stroke of his sword, clove his skull in twain, hurling him down to the churchyard, whither, descending by the winding stairs, the stranger followed and cut his head off, and next day delivered it and the body to the villagers, who duly impaled and burnt them.

This was the time that they fasted their Ramadan, and would not Eat any thing till night. 'Tis a great pity to see these People, how poor and miserable they are, without Bread or-any other Food. They Eat nothing but Ostrich Eggs, and some dried Fish, besides some Flesh of the same.

I carried him with me into the Woods to seek for Herbs fit for his Disease, and used my utmost to procure some Honey to compose a Remedy for him; but he could neither understand me, or comprehend what I demanded of him. At last, having Breakfasted, we went along with some Indians to look for Wood of Aloes. This is a Tree of an extraordinary bigness, bearing Leaves like a Fig-Tree, but a little greener: The Tree contains in [Page 94] its Heart a black Wood, very oiley, sharp, and of a very good Odour; And a Tree as big as a Tunn shall have in its Heart but a very little quantity of this black Wood. This Tree is very hard, and where it is black, 'twill sink to the bottom of Water like a Stone. We laded thereof about 35 Tuns, which are 70000 pound weight or thereabouts. We laded Store of 2 or 3 other sorts of Wood, one resembling a Red-Sandal, and the other a Cittern, and partly of the same Odour. It is of a very sweet Scent when first cut, but by succession of time it comes to lose its Odour. I have learnt that this black Wood is certainly a sort of Wood of Aloes, but not so sweet-scented as that of the East Indies, because it comes so far upon the Sea, receiving thereby a certain Saltish quality. But at such time as I was at Goa, being in an Ensarail where the Idolaters Work, I there saw some Wood of Aloes of the River of Ganges, which was sweet, and had almost the same qualities as that of the West, as I since found out by curious Virtue of the Wood of Aloes. Experience. The Gentiles told me [Page 95] that this Wood was very excellent and odoriferous, and neither Rotten nor Worm-eaten, and was chiefly a good Remedy for the Head-Ach, or the Ague. For the Head-Ach, you must rub this Wood against a flat Marble, agitating it with Rose-Water, or common; then rub the Forehead therewith. And for the Ague, drink Water thus agitated, taking 2 or 3 Ounces. This Virtue is not found in that Wood of Aloes which is brought us, because it is quite Rotten and Worm-eaten, having in it no other Virtue but for the Perfumes, and very little for Medicine; So that I advise all curious Apothecaries to chuse for the good and right Wood of Aloes, True Wood of Aloes. which is sharp, joined with a certain bitterness. As for the colour, the best is that which is black, enclined to grey with Veins, very hard and ponderous, rendering a sweet-scent in the burning, and above all very Gummy. These are the marks of the best as far as I could take notice of in my Travels. I know very well that the price thereof is a little high, and that is the reason why it is so [Page 96] seldom kept in Shops, where they have instead thereof the Sandal-Cittern, which is of a quite contrary Faculty and Vertue: And so likewise of the Turbit Which is a Root., of which they chuse more of that which is white, light and falling to Powder in the breaking, (than the grey) which is of a sweet scent, gummy and heavy, which is the good and right, as I have seen at Goa, where they gather it. The Indians themselves never make use of any other sort than the grey inclining to white; but one Dram of that will make more in effect than three of the other; and I believe that this white is not the right Turbit, never having seen any such in the Indies, but that it rather comes from Persia, because 'tis brought from Aleppo and Alexandria by the Caravans which come from Babilon. Thus much can I say at present of the right Turbit. As for the rest, the Indians call this Wood of Aloes Aupariebou.


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