Away went the mob in pursuit, hooting and hallooing like demons, and denouncing the unfortunate being with all the terrors that could be imagined, and which naturally added greater speed to the unfortunate man.
However, some among the mob, seeing that there was every probability of the stranger's escaping at a mere match of speed, brought a little cunning to bear upon matter, and took a circuit round, and thus intercepted him.
This was not accomplished without a desperate effort, and by the best runners, who thus reached the spot he made for, before he could get there.
When the stranger saw himself thus intercepted, he endeavoured to fly in a different direction; but was soon secured by the mob, who made somewhat free with his person, and commenced knocking him about.
"Have mercy on me," said the stranger. "What do you want? I am not rich; but take all I have."
"What do you do here?" inquired twenty voices. "Come, tell us that—what do you do here, and who are you?"
"A stranger, quite a stranger to these parts."
"Oh, yes! he's a stranger; but that's all the worse for him—he's a vampyre—there's no doubt about that."
"Good God," said the man, "I am a living and breathing man like yourselves. I have done no wrong, and injured no man—be merciful unto me; I intend no harm."
"Of course not; send him to the fire—take him back to the ruins—to the fire."