As it disappeared, Remson came running forward, his face wholly drawn of color.
"What was it, Jack? What was it? I know it resembled granddad, but it couldn't have been he. He's been dead five years!"
"Let us go back to the house," I answered, "and I'll explain things to the best of my ability. I may be wrong, of course, but it won't hurt to try my remedy. Remson, what we are up against is a vampire. Not the female species usually spoken of today, but the real thing. I noticed you had an old edition of the Encyclopedia Brittanica. If you'll bring me volume XXIV I'll be able to explain more fully the meaning of the word."
He left the room and returned, carrying the desired book. Turning to page 52, I read:
"Vampire. A term apparently of Servian origin originally applied in eastern Europe to blood-sucking ghosts, but in modern usage transferred to one or more species of blood-sucking bats inhabiting South America.... In the first mentioned meaning a vampire is usually supposed to be the soul of a dead man which quits the buried body by night to suck the blood of living persons. Hence, when the vampire's grave is opened his corpse is found to be fresh and rosy from the blood thus absorbed.... They are accredited with the power of assuming any form they may so desire, and often fly about as specks or dust, pieces of down or straw, etc.... To put an end to his ravages a stake is driven through him, or his head cut off, or his heart torn out, or boiling water and vinegar poured over the grave.... The persons who turn vampires are wizards, witches, suicides, and those who have come to a violent end. Also, the death of any one resulting from these vampires will cause that person to join their hellish throng.... See Calumet's Dissertation on the Vampires of Hungary."
I looked at Remson, He was staring straight into the fire. I knew that he realized the task before us and was steeling himself to it. Then he turned to me.
"Jack, we'll wait until morning."
That was all. I understood, and he knew. There we sat, each struggling with his own thoughts, until the first faint glimmers of light came struggling, through the trees and warned us of approaching dawn.
Remson left to fetch a sledge-hammer and a large knife with its edge honed to a razor-like keenness. I busied myself making four wooden stakes, shaped like wedges. He returned bearing the horrible tools, and we struck out toward the crypt. We walked rapidly, for had either of us hesitated an instant I verily believe both would have fled incontinently. However, our duty lay clearly before us.
Remson unlocked the door and swung it outward. With a prayer on our lips, we entered.
As if by mutual understanding, we both turned toward the coffin on our left. It belonged to the grandfather. We displaced the lid, and there lay the old Holroyd. He appeared to be sleeping; his face was full of color, and he had none of the stiffness of death. The hair was matted, the mustache untrimmed, and on the beard were stains of a dull brownish hue.
But it was his eyes that attracted me. They were greenish, and they glowed with an expression of fiendish malevolence such as I had never seen before. The look of baffled rage on the face might well have adorned the features of the devil in his hell.
Remson swayed and would have fallen, bu I forced some whisky down his throat and he took a grip on himself. He placed one of the stakes directly over its heart, then shut his eyes and prayed that the good God above take this soul that was to be delivered unto Him.
I took a step backward, aimed care-
