"Ay, and run a stake through his body, and then he's safe for life. I am sure he has something to do with the vampyre; and who knows, if he ain't a vampyre, how soon he may become one?"
"Ah! that's very true; bring him back to the fire, and we'll try the effects of the fire upon his constitution."
"I tell you what, neighbour, it's my opinion, that as one fool makes many, so one vampyre makes many."
"So it does, so it does; there's much truth and reason in that neighbour; I am decidedly of that opinion, too."
"Come along then," cried the mob, cuffing and pulling the unfortunate stranger with them.
"Mercy, mercy!"
But it was useless to call for mercy to men whose superstitious feelings urged them on; for when the demon of superstition is active, no matter what form it may take, it always results in cruelty and wickedness to all.
Various were the shouts and menaces of the mob, and the stranger saw no hope of life unless he could escape from the hands of the people who surrounded him.
They had now nearly reached the ruins, and the stranger, who was certainly a somewhat odd and remarkable looking man, and who appeared in their eyes the very impersonation of their notions of a vampyre, was thrust from one to the other, kicked by one, and then cuffed by the other, as if he was doomed to run the gauntlet.
"Down with the vampyre!" said the mob.