Old Saint Paul's: A Tale of the Plague and the Fire

by William Harrison Ainsworth

  BOOK THE SECOND.

  MAY, 1665.

  I.

  PROGRESS OF THE PESTILENCE.

  Towards the middle of May, the bills of mortality began to swell greatlyin amount, and though but few were put down to the plague, and a largenumber to the spotted fever (another frightful disorder raging at theperiod), it is well known that the bulk had died of the former disease.The rigorous measures adopted by the authorities (whether salutary ornot has been questioned), in shutting up houses and confining the sickand sound within them for forty days, were found so intolerable, thatmost persons were disposed to run any risk rather than be subjected tosuch a grievance, and every artifice was resorted to for concealing acase when it occurred. Hence, it seldom happened, unless by accident,that a discovery was made. Quack doctors were secretly consulted,instead of the regular practitioners; the searchers were bribed tosilence; and large fees were given to the undertakers and buriers to laythe deaths to the account of some other disorder. All this, however, didnot blind the eyes of the officers to the real state of things.Redoubling their vigilance, they entered houses on mere suspicion;inflicted punishments where they found their orders disobeyed orneglected; sent the sound to prison,--the sick to the pest-house; andreplaced the faithless searchers by others upon whom they could placereliance. Many cases were thus detected; but in spite of everyprecaution, the majority escaped; and the vent was no sooner stopped inone quarter than it broke out with additional violence in another.

  By this time the alarm had become general. All whose business orpursuits permitted it, prepared to leave London, which they regarded asa devoted city, without delay. As many houses were, therefore, closedfrom the absence of the inhabitants as from the presence of the plague,and this added to the forlorn appearance of the streets, which in somequarters were almost deserted. For a while, nothing was seen at thegreat outlets of the city but carts, carriages, and other vehicles,filled with goods and movables, on their way to the country; and, as maybe supposed, the departure of their friends did not tend to abate thedejection of those whose affairs compelled them to remain behind.

  One circumstance must not be passed unnoticed, namely, the continuedfineness and beauty of the weather. No rain had fallen for upwards ofthree weeks. The sky was bright and cloudless; the atmosphere,apparently, pure and innoxious; while the heat was as great as isgenerally experienced in the middle of summer. But instead of producingits usual enlivening effect on the spirits, the fine weather added tothe general gloom and apprehension, inasmuch as it led to the belief(afterwards fully confirmed), that if the present warmth was sopernicious, the more sultry seasons which were near at hand wouldaggravate the fury of the pestilence. Sometimes, indeed, when the deathswere less numerous, a hope began to be entertained that the distemperwas abating, and confidence was for a moment restored; but theseanticipations were speedily checked by the reappearance of the scourge,which seemed to baffle and deride all human skill and foresight.

  London now presented a lamentable spectacle. Not a street but had ahouse in it marked with a red cross--some streets had many such. Thebells were continually tolling for burials, and the dead-carts wenttheir melancholy rounds at night and were constantly loaded. Freshdirections were issued by the authorities; and as domestic animals wereconsidered to be a medium of conveying the infection, an order, whichwas immediately carried into effect, was given to destroy all dogs andcats. But this plan proved prejudicial rather than the reverse, as thebodies of the poor animals, most of which were drowned in the Thames,being washed ashore, produced a horrible and noxious effluvium, supposedto contribute materially to the propagation of the distemper.

  No precautionary measure was neglected; but it may be doubted whetherany human interference could have averted the severity of the scourge,which, though its progress might be checked for a few days by attention,or increased in the same ratio by neglect, would in the end haveunquestionably fulfilled its mission. The College of Physicians, by theking's command, issued simple and intelligible directions, in the mothertongue, for the sick. Certain of their number, amongst whom was thereader's acquaintance, Doctor Hodges, were appointed to attend theinfected; and two out of the Court of Aldermen were required to see thatthey duly executed their dangerous office. Public prayers and a generalfast were likewise enjoined. But Heaven seemed deaf to the supplicationsof the doomed inhabitants--their prayers being followed by a fearfulincrease of deaths. A vast crowd was collected within Saint Paul's tohear a sermon preached by Doctor Sheldon, Archbishop of Canterbury,--aprelate greatly distinguished during the whole course of the visitation,by his unremitting charity and attention to the sick; and before thediscourse was concluded, several fell down within the sacred walls, and,on being conveyed to their own homes, were found to be infected. On thefollowing day, too, many others who had been present were seized withthe disorder.

  A fresh impulse was given to the pestilence from an unlooked for cause.It has been mentioned that the shutting up of houses and seclusion ofthe sick were regarded as an intolerable grievance, and though most werecompelled to submit to it, some few resisted, and tumults anddisturbances ensued. As the plague increased, these disturbances becamemore frequent, and the mob always taking part against the officers, theywere frequently interrupted in the execution of their duty.

  About this time a more serious affray than usual occurred, attended-withloss of life and other unfortunate consequences, which it may be worthwhile to relate, as illustrative of the peculiar state of the times. Thewife of a merchant, named Barcroft, residing in Lothbury, being attackedby the plague, the husband, fearing his house would be shut up, withheldall information from the examiners and searchers. His wife died, andimmediately afterwards one of his children was attacked. Still herefused to give notice. The matter, however, got wind. The searchersarrived at night, and being refused admittance, they broke into thehouse. Finding undoubted evidence of infection, they ordered it to beclosed, stationed a watchman at the door, and marked it with the fatalsign. Barcroft remonstrated against their proceedings, but in vain. Theytold him he might think himself well off that he was not carried beforethe Lord Mayor, who would undoubtedly send him to Ludgate; and withother threats to the like effect, they departed.

  The unfortunate man's wife and child were removed the following night inthe dead-cart, and, driven half-mad by grief and terror, he broke openthe door of his dwelling, and, plunging a sword in the watchman'sbreast, who opposed his flight, gained the street. A party of the watchhappened to be passing at the time, and the fugitive was instantlysecured. He made a great clamour, however,--calling to his neighboursand the bystanders to rescue him, and in another moment the watch wasbeaten off, and Barcroft placed on a post, whence he harangued hispreservers on the severe restraints imposed upon the citizens, urgingthem to assist in throwing open the doors of all infected houses, andallowing free egress to their inmates.

  Greedily listening to this insane counsel, the mob resolved to act uponit. Headed by the merchant, they ran down Thread-needle-street, and,crossing Stock's Market, burst open several houses in Bearbinder-lane,and drove away the watchmen. One man, more courageous than the others,tried to maintain his post, and was so severely handled by hisassailants, that he died a few days afterwards of the injuries he hadreceived. Most of those who had been imprisoned within their dwellingsimmediately issued forth, and joining the mob, which received freshrecruits each moment, started on the same errand.

  Loud shouts were now raised of--"Open the doors! No plague prisoners! Noplague prisoners!" and the mob set off along the Poultry. They halted,however, before the Great Conduit, near the end of Bucklersbury, andopposite Mercer's Hall, because they perceived a company of theTrain-bands advancing to meet them. A council of war was held, and manyof the rabble were disposed to fly; but Barcroft again urged them toproceed, and they were unexpectedly added by Solomon Eagle, who,bursting through their ranks, with his brazier on his head, crying,"Awake! sleepers, awake! the plague is at your doors! awake!" speededtowards the Train-
bands, scattering sparks of fire as he pursued hisswift career. The mob instantly followed, and, adding their shouts tohis outcries, dashed on with such fury that the Train-bands did not dareto oppose them, and, after a slight and ineffectual resistance, were putto rout.

  Barcroft, who acted as leader, informed them that there was a house inWood-street shut up, and the crowd accompanied him thither. In a fewminutes they had reached Bloundel's shop, but finding no one onguard--for the watchman, guessing their errand, had taken to hisheels--they smeared over the fatal cross and inscription with a pail ofmud gathered from the neighbouring kennel, and then broke open the door.The grocer and his apprentice hearing the disturbance, and being greatlyalarmed at it, hurried to the shop, and found it full of people.

  "You are at liberty Mr. Bloundel," cried the merchant, who wasacquainted with the grocer. "We are determined no longer to let ourfamilies be imprisoned at the pleasure of the Lord Mayor and aldermen.We mean to break open all the plague houses, and set free theirinmates."

  "For Heaven's sake, consider what you are about, Mr. Barcroft," criedthe grocer. "My house has been closed for nearly a month. Nay, as my sonhas entirely recovered, and received his certificate of health fromDoctor Hodges, it would have been opened in three days hence by theofficers; so that I have suffered all the inconvenience of theconfinement, and can speak to it. It is no doubt very irksome, and maybe almost intolerable to persons of an impatient temperament: but Ifirmly believe it is the only means to check the progress of contagion.Listen to me, Mr. Barcroft--listen to me, good friends, and hesitatebefore you violate laws which have been made expressly to meet thisterrible emergency."

  Here he was checked by loud groans and upbraidings from the bystanders.

  "He tells you himself that the period of his confinement is just over,"cried Barcroft. "It is plain he has no interest in the matter, exceptthat he would have others suffer as he has done. Heed him not, myfriends; but proceed with the good work. Liberate the poor plagueprisoners. Liberate them. On! on!"

  "Forbear, rash men" cried Bloundel, in an authoritative voice. "In thename of those you are bound to obey, I command you to desist."

  "Command us!" cried one of the bystanders, raising his staff in amenacing manner. "Is this your gratitude for the favour we have justconferred upon you? Command us, forsooth! You had better repeat theorder, and see how it will be obeyed."

  "I _do_ repeat it," rejoined the grocer, firmly. "In the Lord Mayor'sname, I command you to desist, and return to your homes."

  The man would have struck him with his staff, if he had not been himselffelled to the ground by Leonard. This was the signal for greateroutrage. The grocer and his apprentice were instantly assailed byseveral others of the mob, who, leaving them both on the floor coveredwith bruises, helped themselves to all they could lay hands on in theshop, and then quitted the premises.

  It is scarcely necessary to track their course further; and it may besufficient to state, that they broke open upwards of fifty houses indifferent streets. Many of the plague-stricken joined them, and severalhalf-naked creatures were found dead in the streets on the followingmorning. Two houses in Blackfriars-lane were set on fire, and theconflagration was with difficulty checked; nor was it until late on thefollowing day that the mob could be entirely dispersed. The originatorof the disturbance, Barcroft, after a desperate resistance, was shotthrough the head by a constable.

  The result of this riot, as will be easily foreseen, was greatly toincrease the pestilence; and many of those who had been most active init perished in prison of the distemper. Far from being discouraged bythe opposition offered to their decrees, the city authorities enforcedthem with greater rigour than ever, and, doubling the number of thewatch, again shut up all those houses which had been broken open duringthe late tumult.

  Bloundel received a visit from the Lord Mayor, Sir John Lawrence, who,having been informed of his conduct, came to express his high approvalof it, offering to remit the few days yet unexpired of his quarantine.The grocer, however, declined the offer, and with renewed expressions ofapprobation, Sir John Lawrence took his leave.

  Three days afterwards, the Examiner of Health pronounced the grocer'shouse free from infection. The fatal mark was obliterated from the door;the shutters were unfastened; and Bloundel resumed his business asusual. Words are inadequate to describe the delight that filled thebreast of every member of his family, on their first meeting after theirlong separation. It took place in the room adjoining the shop. Mrs.Bloundel received the joyful summons from Leonard, and, on descendingwith her children, found her husband and her son Stephen anxiouslyexpecting her. Scarcely able to make up her mind as to which of the twoshe should embrace first, Mrs. Bloundel was decided by the palecountenance of her son, and rushing towards him, she strained him to herbreast, while Amabel flew to her father's arms. The grocer could notrepress his tears; but they were tears of joy, and that night'shappiness made him ample amends for all the anxiety he had recentlyundergone.

  "Well, Stephen, my dear child," said his mother, as soon as the firsttumult of emotion had subsided,--"well, Stephen," she said, smiling athim through her tears, and almost smothering him with kisses, "you arenot so much altered as I expected; and I do not think, if I had had thecare of you, I could have nursed you better myself. You owe your fathera second life, and we all owe him the deepest gratitude for the care hehas taken of you."

  "I can never be sufficiently grateful for his kindness," returnedStephen, affectionately.

  "Give thanks to the beneficent Being who has preserved you from thisgreat danger, my son, not to me," returned Bloundel. "The first momentsof our reunion should be worthily employed."

  So saying, he summoned the household, and, for the first time for amonth, the whole family party assembled, as before, at prayer. Neverwere thanksgivings more earnestly, more devoutly uttered. All arose withbright and cheerful countenances; and even Blaize seemed to have shakenoff his habitual dread of the pestilence. As he retired with Patience,he observed to her, "Master Stephen looks quite well, though a littlethinner. I must ascertain from him the exact course of treatment pursuedby his father. I wonder whether Mr. Bloundel would nurse _me_ if I wereto be suddenly seized with the distemper?"

  "If he wouldn't, I _would_," replied Patience.

  "Thank you, thank you," replied Blaize. "I begin to think we shall getthrough it. I shall go out to-morrow and examine the bills of mortality,and see what progress the plague is making. I am all anxiety to know. Imust get a fresh supply of medicine, too. My private store is quitegone, except three of my favourite rufuses, which I shall take before Igo to bed to-night. Unluckily, my purse is as empty as my phials."

  "I can lend you a little money," said Patience. "I haven't touched mylast year's wages. They are quite at your service."

  "You are too good," replied Blaize; "but I won't decline the offer. Iheard a man crying a new anti-pestilential elixir, as he passed thehouse yesterday. I must find him out and buy a bottle. Besides, I mustcall on my friend Parkhurst, the apothecary.--You are a good girl,Patience, and I'll marry you as soon as the plague ceases."

  "I have something else to give you," rejoined Patience. "This little bagcontains a hazel-nut, from which I have picked the kernel, and filledits place with quicksilver, stopping the hole with wax. Wear it roundyour neck, and you will find it a certain preservative against thepestilence."

  "Who told you of this remedy?" asked Blaize, taking the bag.

  "Your mother," returned Patience.

  "I wonder I never heard of it," said the porter.

  "She wouldn't mention it to you, because the doctor advised her not toput such matters into your head," replied Patience. "But I couldn't helpindulging you. Heigho! I hope the plague will soon be over."

  "It won't be over for six months," rejoined Blaize, shaking his head. "Iread in a little book, published in 1593, in Queen Elizabeth's reign,and written by Simon Kelway, 'that when little children flock together,and pretend that some of their number are dead, solemn
izing the burialin a mournful sort, it is a certain token that a great mortality is athand.' This I have myself seen more than once. Again, just before thegreat sickness of 1625, the churchyard wall of St. Andrew's, Holborn,fell down. I need not tell you that the same thing occurred after thefrost this winter."

  "I heard of it," replied Patience: "but I did not know it was a badsign."

  "It is a dreadful sign," returned Blaize, with a shudder "The thought ofit brings back my old symptoms. I must have a supper to guard againstinfection--a slice of toasted bread, sprinkled with vinegar, andpowdered with nutmeg."

  And chattering thus, they proceeded to the kitchen.

  Before supper could be served, Dr. Hodges made his appearance. He wasdelighted to see the family assembled together again, and expressed ahearty wish that they might never more be divided. He watched Amabel andLeonard carefully, and seemed annoyed that the former rather shunnedthan favoured the regards of the apprentice.

  Leonard, too, looked disconcerted; and though he was in possession ofhis mistress's promise, he did not like to reclaim it. During the wholeof the month, he had been constantly on the watch, and had scarcelyslept at night, so anxious was he to prevent the possibility of anycommunication taking place between Rochester and his mistress. But, inspite of all his caution, it was possible he might be deceived. And whenon this, their first meeting, she returned his anxious gaze with avertedlooks, he felt all his jealous misgivings return.

  Supper, meanwhile, proceeded. Doctor Hodges was in excellent spirits,and drank a bottle of old sack with great relish. Overcome by the sightof his wife and children, the grocer abandoned himself to his feelings.As to his wife, she could scarcely contain herself, but wept and laughedby turns--now embracing her husband, now her son, between whom she hadplaced herself. Nor did she forget Doctor Hodges; and such was theexuberance of her satisfaction, that when the repast was ended, shearose, and, flinging her arms about his neck, termed him the preserverof her son.

  "If any one is entitled to that appellation it is his father," repliedHodges, "and I may say, that in all my experience I have never witnessedsuch generous self-devotion as Mr. Bloundel has exhibited towards hisson. You must now be satisfied, madam, that no person can so well judgewhat is proper for the safety of his family as your husband."

  "I never doubted it, sir," replied Mrs. Bloundel.

  "I must apprise you, then, that he has conceived a plan by which hetrusts to secure you and his children and household from any futureattack," returned Hodges.

  "I care not what it is, so it does not separate me from him," repliedMrs. Bloundel.

  "It does not," replied the grocer. "It will knit us more closelytogether than we have yet been. I mean to shut up my house, havingpreviously stored it with provisions for a twelvemonth, and shall sufferno member of my family to stir forth as long as the plague endures."

  "I am ready to remain within doors, if it continues twenty years,"replied his wife. "But how long do you think it _will_ last, doctor?"

  "Till next December, I have no doubt," returned Hodges.

  "So long?" exclaimed Amabel.

  "Ay, so long," repeated the doctor. "It has scarcely begun now. Yourfather is right to adopt these precautions. It is the only way to insurethe safety of his family."

  "But----" cried Amabel.

  "I am resolved," interrupted Bloundel, peremptorily. "Who ever leavesthe house--if but for a moment--never returns."

  "And when do you close it, father?" asked Amabel.

  "A week hence," replied the grocer; "as soon as I have laid in asufficient stock of provisions."

  "And am I not to leave the house for a year?" cried Amabel, with adissatisfied look.

  "Why should you wish to leave it?" asked her father, curiously.

  "Ay, why?" repeated Leonard, in a low tone. "I shall be here."

  Amabel seemed confused, and looked from her father to Leonard. Theformer, however, did not notice her embarrassment, but observed toHodges--"I shall begin to victual the house to-morrow."

  "Amabel," whispered Leonard, "you told me if I claimed your hand in amonth, you would yield it to me. I require the fulfilment of yourpromise."

  "Give me till to-morrow," she replied, distractedly.

  "She has seen Rochester," muttered the apprentice, turning away.

  II.

  IN WHAT MANNER THE GROCER VICTUALLED HIS HOUSE.

  Leonard Holt was wrong in his suspicions. Amabel had neither seen norheard from Rochester. But, if the truth must be told, he was never outof her mind, and she found, to her cost, that the heart will not becontrolled. Convinced of her noble lover's perfidy, and aware she wasacting wrongfully in cherishing a passion for him, after the exposure ofhis base designs towards herself, no reasoning of which she was capablecould banish him from her thoughts, or enable her to transfer heraffections to the apprentice.

  This conflict of feeling produced its natural result. She becamethoughtful and dejected--was often in tears--had no appetite--and couldscarcely rouse herself sufficiently to undertake any sort of employment.Her mother watched her with great anxiety, and feared--though she soughtto disguise it from herself--what was the real cause of her despondency.

  Things were in this position at the end of the month, and it occasionedno surprise to Mrs. Bloundel, though it afflicted her deeply, to findthat Amabel sedulously avoided the apprentice's regards on their firstmeeting. When Doctor Hodges was gone, and the rest of the family hadretired, she remarked to her husband, "Before you shut up the house asyou propose, I should, wish one important matter settled."

  The grocer inquired what she meant.

  "I should wish to have Amabel married," was the answer.

  "Married!" exclaimed Bloundel, in astonishment. "To whom?"

  "To Leonard Holt."

  Bloundel could scarcely repress his displeasure.

  "It will be time enough to talk of that a year hence," he answered.

  "I don't think so," returned his wife; "and now, since the proper timefor the disclosure of the secret has arrived, I must tell you that thegallant who called himself Maurice Wyvil, and whom you so much dreaded,was no other than the Earl of Rochester."

  "Rochester!" echoed the grocer, while an angry flush stained his cheek;"has that libertine dared to enter my house?"

  "Ay, and more than once," replied Mrs. Bloundel.

  "Indeed!" cried her husband, with difficulty controlling hisindignation. "When was he here?--tell me quickly."

  His wife then proceeded to relate all that had occurred, and he listenedwith profound attention to her recital. At its close, he arose and pacedthe chamber for some time in great agitation.

  At length he suddenly paused, and, regarding his wife with greatsternness, observed, in a severe tone, "You have done very wrong inconcealing this from me, Honora--very wrong."

  "If I have erred, it was to spare you uneasiness," returned Mrs.Bloundel, bursting into tears. "Doctor Hodges agreed with me that it wasbetter not to mention the subject while you had so many other anxietiespressing upon you."

  "I have a stout heart, and a firm reliance on the goodness of Heaven,which will enable me to bear up against most evils," returned thegrocer. "But on this point I ought, under any circumstances, to havebeen consulted. And I am greatly surprised that Doctor Hodges shouldadvise the contrary."

  "He was influenced, like myself, by the kindliest feelings towards you,"sobbed Mrs. Bloundel.

  "Well, well, I will not reproach you further," returned the grocer,somewhat moved by her tears. "I have no doubt you conceived you wereacting for the best. But I must caution you against such conduct for thefuture." After a pause, he added, "Is it your opinion that our poordeluded child still entertains any regard for this profligate nobleman?"

  "I am sure she does," replied Mrs. Bloundel; "and it is from thatconviction that I so strongly urge the necessity of marrying her toLeonard Holt."

  "I will never compel her to do anything to endanger her futurehappiness," returned the grocer. "She must not ma
rry Leonard Holtwithout loving him. It is better to risk an uncertain evil, than to rushupon a certain one."

  "Then I won't answer for the consequences," replied his wife.

  "What!" cried Bloundel; "am I to understand you have no reliance onAmabel? Has all our care been thrown away?"

  "I do not distrust her," returned Mrs. Bloundel; "but consider whom shehas to deal with. She is beset by the handsomest and most fascinatingman of the day--by one understood to be practised in all the arts mostdangerous to our sex--and a nobleman to boot. Some allowance must bemade for her."

  "I will make none," rejoined Bloundel, austerely. "She has been taughtto resist temptation in whatever guise it may present itself; and if theprinciples I have endeavoured to implant within her breast had foundlodgment there, she _would_ have resisted it. I am deeply grieved tofind this is not the case, and that she must trust to others forprotection, when she ought to be able to defend herself."

  The subject was not further discussed, and the grocer and his wifeshortly afterwards retired to rest.

  On the following morning, Bloundel remarked to the apprentice as theystood together in the shop, "Leonard, you are aware I am about to shutup my house. Before doing so, I must make certain needful arrangements.I will not disguise from you that I should prefer your remaining withme, but at the same time I beg you distinctly to understand that I willnot detain you against your will. Your articles are within two months ofexpiring; and, if you desire it, I will deliver them to you to-morrow,and release you from the rest of your time."

  "I do not desire it, sir," replied Leonard; "I will remain as long as Ican be serviceable to you."

  "Take time for reflection," rejoined his master, kindly. "In allprobability, it will be a long confinement, and you may repent, when toolate, having subjected yourself to it."

  "Last month's experience has taught me what I have to expect," remarkedLeonard, with a smile. "My mind is made up, I will stay with you."

  "I am glad of it," returned Bloundel, "and now I have something furtherto say to you. My wife has acquainted me with the daring attempt of theEarl of Rochester to carry off Amabel."

  "Has my mistress, also, told you of my attachment to your daughter?"demanded Leonard, trembling, in spite of his efforts to maintain a showof calmness.

  Bloundel nodded an affirmative.

  "And of Amabel's promise to bestow her hand upon me, if I claimed it atthe month's end?" continued the apprentice.

  "No!" replied the grocer, a good deal surprised--"I heard of no suchpromise. Nor was I aware the matter had gone so far. But have youclaimed it?"

  "I have," replied Leonard; "but she declined giving an answer tillto-day."

  "We will have it, then, at once," cried Bloundel "Come with me to her."

  So saying, he led the way to the inner room, where they found Amabel andher mother. At the sight of Leonard, the former instantly cast down hereyes.

  "Amabel," said her father, in a tone of greater severity than he hadever before used towards her, "all that has passed is known to me. Ishall take another and more fitting opportunity to speak to you on yourill-advised conduct. I am come for a different purpose. You have givenLeonard Holt a promise (I need not tell you of what nature), and heclaims its fulfilment."

  "If he insists upon my compliance," replied Amabel, in a tremulousvoice, "I must obey. But it will make me wretched."

  "Then I at once release you," replied Leonard. "I value your happinessfar more than my own."

  "You deserve better treatment, Leonard," said Bloundel; "and I am sorrymy daughter cannot discern what is for her good. Let us hope that timewill work a change in your favour."

  "No," replied the apprentice, bitterly; "I will no longer delude myselfwith any such vain expectation."

  "Amabel," observed the grocer, "as your father--as your wellwisher--Ishould desire to see you wedded to Leonard. But I have told your mother,and now tell you, that I will not control your inclinations, and willonly attempt to direct you so far as I think likely to be conducive toyour happiness. On another point, I must assume a very different tone.You can no longer plead ignorance of the designs of the depraved personwho besets you. You may not be able to forget him--but you can avoidhim. If you see him alone again--if but for a moment--I cast you off forever. Yes, for ever," he repeated, with stern emphasis.

  "I will never voluntarily see him again," replied Amabel, tremblingly.

  "You have heard my determination," rejoined her father. "Do you stilladhere to your resolution of remaining with me, Leonard?" he added,turning to the apprentice. "If what has just passed makes any alterationin your wishes, state so, frankly."

  "I will stay," replied Leonard.

  "There will be one advantage, which I did not foresee, in closing myhouse," remarked the grocer aside to the apprentice. "It willeffectually keep away this libertine earl."

  "Perhaps so," replied the other. "But I have more faith in my ownvigilance than in bolts and bars."

  Bloundel and Leonard then returned to the shop, where the formerimmediately began to make preparations for storing his house; and in theprosecution of his scheme he was greatly aided by the apprentice.

  The grocer's dwelling, as has been stated, was large and commodious. Itwas three stories high; and beneath the ground-floor there were kitchensand extensive cellars. Many of the rooms were spacious, and hadcuriously carved fireplaces, walls pannelled with fine brown oak, largepresses, and cupboards.

  In the yard, at the back of the house, there was a pump, from whichexcellent water was obtained. There were likewise three large cisterns,supplied from the New River. Not satisfied with this, and anxious toobtain water in which no infected body could have lain, or clothes havebeen washed, Bloundel had a large tank placed within the cellar, andconnecting it by pipes with the pump, he contrived an ingenious machine,by which he could work the latter from within the house--thus makingsure of a constant supply of water direct from the spring.

  He next addressed himself to the front of the house, where he fixed apulley, with a rope and hook attached to it, to the beam above one ofthe smaller bay windows on the second story. By this means, he could letdown a basket or any other article into the street, or draw up whateverhe desired; and as he proposed using this outlet as the sole means ofcommunication with the external world when his house was closed, he hada wooden shutter made in the form of a trap-door, which he could openand shut at pleasure.

  Here it was his intention to station himself at certain hours of theday, and whenever he held any communication below, to flash off apistol, so that the smoke of the powder might drive back the air, andpurify any vapour that found entrance of its noxious particles.

  He laid down to himself a number of regulations, which will be moreeasily shown and more clearly understood, on arriving at the period whenhis plans came to be in full operation. To give an instance, however--ifa letter should be conveyed to him by means of the pulley, he proposedto steep it in a solution of vinegar and sulphur; and when dried andotherwise fumigated, to read it at a distance by the help of strongglasses.

  In regard to provisions, after a careful calculation, he bought upwardsof three thousand pounds' weight of hard sea-biscuits, similar to thosenow termed captain's biscuits, and had them stowed away in hogsheads. Henext ordered twenty huge casks of the finest flour, which he had packedup with the greatest care, as if for a voyage to Barbadoes or Jamaica.As these were brought in through the yard an accident had well-nighoccurred which might have proved fatal to him. While superintending thelabours of Leonard and Blaize, who were rolling the casks into thehouse--having stowed away as many as he conveniently could in the upperpart of the premises--he descended to the cellar, and, opening a door atthe foot of a flight of steps leading from the yard, called to them tolower the remaining barrels with ropes below. In the hurry, Blaizerolled a cask towards the open door, and in another instant it wouldhave fallen upon the grocer, and perhaps have crushed him, but for theinterposition of Leonard. Bloundel made no remark at the time;
but henever forgot the service rendered him by the apprentice.

  To bake the bread required an oven, and he accordingly built one in thegarret, laying in a large stock of wood for fuel. Neither did he neglectto provide himself with two casks of meal.

  But the most important consideration was butcher's meat; and for thispurpose he went to Rotherhithe, where the plague had not yet appeared,and agreed with a butcher to kill him four fat bullocks, and pickle andbarrel them as if for sea stores. He likewise directed the man toprovide six large barrels of pickled pork, on the same understanding.These were landed at Queenhithe, and brought up to Wood-street, so thatthey passed for newly-landed grocery.

  Hams and bacon forming part of his own trade, he wrote to certainfarmers with whom he was in the habit of dealing, to send him up anunlimited supply of flitches and gammons; and his orders being promptlyand abundantly answered, he soon found he had more bacon than he couldpossibly consume. He likewise laid in a good store of tongues, hungbeef, and other dried meats.

  As to wine, he already had a tolerable stock; but he increased it byhalf a hogshead of the best canary he could procure; two casks ofmalmsey, each containing twelve gallons; a quarter-cask of Malaga sack;a runlet of muscadine; two small runlets of aqua vitae; twenty gallonsof aniseed water; and two eight-gallon runlets of brandy. To this headded six hogsheads of strongly-hopped Kent ale, calculated for keeping,which he placed in a cool cellar, together with three hogsheads of beer,for immediate use. Furthermore, he procured a variety of distilledwaters for medicinal purposes, amongst which he included a couple ofdozen of the then fashionable and costly preparation, denominatedplague-water.

  As, notwithstanding all his precautions, it was not impossible that someof his household might be attacked by the distemper, he took care toprovide proper remedies, and, to Blaize's infinite delight, furnishedhimself with mithridates, Venice treacle, diascorium, the pill rufus(oh! how the porter longed to have the key of the medicine chest!),London treacle, turpentine, and other matters. He likewise collected anumber of herbs and simples; as Virginian snakeweed, contrajerva,pestilence-wort, angelica, elecampane, zedoary, tormentil, valerian,lovage, devils-bit, dittany, master-wort, rue, sage, ivy-berries, andwalnuts; together with bole ammoniac, terra sigillata, bezoar-water, oilof sulphur, oil of vitriol, and other compounds. His store of remedieswas completed by a tun of the best white-wine vinegar, and a dozen jarsof salad-oil.

  Regulating his supplies by the provisions he had laid in, he purchased asufficient stock of coals and fagots to last him during the whole periodof his confinement; and he added a small barrel of gunpowder, and a likequantity of sulphur for fumigation.

  His eatables would not have been complete without cheese; and hetherefore ordered about six hundredweight from Derbyshire, Wiltshire,and Leicestershire, besides a couple of large old cheeses fromRostherne, in Cheshire--even then noted for the best dairies in thewhole county. Several tubs of salted butter were sent him out ofBerkshire, and a few pots, from Suffolk.

  It being indispensable, considering the long period he meant to closehis house, to provide himself and his family with every necessary, heprocured a sufficient stock of wearing apparel, hose, shoes and boots.Spice, dried fruit, and other grocery articles, were not required,because he already possessed them. Candles also formed an article of histrade, and lamp-oil; but he was recommended by Doctor Hodges, from afear of the scurvy, to provide a plentiful supply of lemon and limejuice.

  To guard against accident, he also doubly stocked his house with glass,earthenware, and every article liable to breakage. He destroyed allvermin, such as rats and mice, by which the house was infested; and theonly live creatures he would suffer to be kept were a few poultry. Hehad a small hutch constructed near the street-door, to be used by thewatchman he meant to employ; and he had the garrets fitted up with bedsto form an hospital, if any part of the family should be seized with thedistemper, so that the sick might be sequestered from the sound.

  * * * * *

  III.

  THE QUACK DOCTORS.

  Patience, it may be remembered, had promised Blaize to give him herearnings to enable him to procure a fresh supply of medicine, and abouta week after he had received the trifling amount (for he had been soconstantly employed by the grocer that he had no opportunity of gettingout before), he sallied forth to visit a neighbouring apothecary, namedParkhurst, from whom he had been in the habit of purchasing drugs, andwho occupied a small shop not far from the grocer's, on the oppositeside of the street. Parkhurst appeared overjoyed to see him, and,without giving him time to prefer his own request, inquired after hismaster's family--whether they were all well, especially fair MistressAmabel--and, further, what was the meaning of the large supplies ofprovision which he saw daily conveyed to the premises? Blaize shook hishead at the latter question, and for some time refused to answer it. Butbeing closely pressed by Parkhurst, he admitted that his master wasabout to shut up his house.

  "Shut up his house!" exclaimed Parkhurst. "I never heard of such apreposterous idea. If he does so, not one of you will come out alive.But I should hope that he will be dissuaded from his rash design."

  "Dissuaded!" echoed Blaize. "You don't know my master. He's as obstinateas a mule when he takes a thing into his head. Nothing will turn him.Besides, Doctor Hodges sanctions and even recommends the plan."

  "I have no opinion of Doctor Hodges," sneered the apothecary. "He is notfit to hold a candle before a learned friend of mine, a physician, whois now in that room. The person I speak of thoroughly understands thepestilence, and never fails to cure every case that comes before him. Noshutting up houses with him. He is in possession of an infallibleremedy."

  "Indeed!" exclaimed Blaize, pricking up his ears. "What is his name?"

  "His name!" cried Parkhurst, with a puzzled look. "How strange it shouldslip my memory! Ah, now I recollect. It is Doctor Calixtus Bottesham."

  "A singular name, truly," remarked Blaize; "but it sounds like that of aclever man."

  "Doctor Calixtus Bottesham is a wonderful man," returned the apothecary."I have never met with his like. I would trumpet forth his meritsthrough the whole city, but that it would ruin my trade. The plague isour harvest, as my friend Chowles, the coffin-maker, says, and it willnot do to stop it--ha! ha!"

  "It is too serious a subject to laugh at," returned Blaize, gravely."But are the doctor's fees exorbitant?"

  "To the last degree," replied Parkhurst. "I am afraid to state how muchhe asks."

  "I fear I shall not be able to consult him, then," said Blaize, turningover the coin in his pocket; "and yet I should greatly like to do so."

  "Have no fear on that score," returned the apothecary. "I have been ableto render him an important service, and he will do anything for me. Heshall give you his advice gratis."

  "Thank you! thank you!" cried Blaize, transported with delight.

  "Wait here a moment, and I will ascertain whether he will see you,"replied Parkhurst.

  So saying, he quitted the porter, who amused himself during his absenceby studying the labels affixed to the jars and bottles on the shelves.He had much ado to restrain himself from opening some of them, andtasting their contents.

  Full a quarter of an hour elapsed before the apothecary appeared.

  "I am sorry to have detained you so long," he said; "but I had moredifficulty with the doctor than I expected, and for some time he refusedto see you on any terms, because he has a violent antipathy to DoctorHodges, whom he regards as a mere pretender, and whose patient heconceives you to be."

  "I am not Doctor Hodges' patient," returned Blaize; "and I regard him asa pretender myself."

  "That opinion will recommend you to Doctor Bottesham," repliedParkhurst; "and since I have smoothed the way for you, you will find himvery affable and condescending. He has often heard me speak of yourmaster; and if it were not for his dislike of Doctor Hodges, whom hemight accidentally encounter, he would call upon him."

  "I wish I could get my
master to employ him instead of the other," saidBlaize.

  "I wish so too," cried Parkhurst, eagerly. "Do you think it could bemanaged?"

  "I fear not," returned Blaize.

  "There would be no harm in making the trial," replied Parkhurst. "Butyou shall now see the learned gentleman. I ought to apprise you that hehas two friends with him--one a young gallant, named Hawkswood, whom hehas recently cured of the distemper, and who is so much attached to himthat he never leaves him; the other, a doctor, like himself, namedMartin Furbisher, who always accompanies him in his visits to hispatients, and prepares his mixtures for him. You must not be surprisedat their appearance. And now come with me."

  With this, he led the way into a small room at the back of the shop,where three personages were seated at the table, with a flask of wineand glasses before them. Blaize detected Doctor Bottesham at a glance.He was an ancient-looking man, clad in a suit of rusty black, over whichwas thrown a velvet robe, very much soiled and faded, but originallytrimmed with fur, and lined with yellow silk. His powers of visionappeared to be feeble, for he wore a large green shade over his eyes,and a pair of spectacles of the same colour. A venerable white bearddescended almost to his waist. His head was protected by a long flowinggrey wig, over which he wore a black velvet cap. His shoulders were highand round, his back bent, and he evidently required support when hemoved, as a crutch-headed staff was reared against his chair. On hisleft was a young, handsome, and richly-attired gallant, answering to theapothecary's description of Hawkswood; and on the right sat a stoutpersonage precisely habited like himself, except that he wore abroad-leaved hat, which completely overshadowed his features.Notwithstanding this attempt at concealment, it was easy to perceivethat Doctor Furbisher's face was covered with scars, that he had arubicund nose, studded with carbuncles, and a black patch over his lefteye.

  "Is this the young man who desires to consult me?" asked Doctor CalixtusBottesham, in the cracked and quavering voice of old age, of Parkhurst.

  "It is," replied the apothecary, respectfully. "Go forward," he added toBlaize, "and speak for yourself."

  "What ails you?" pursued Bottesham, gazing at him through hisspectacles. "You look strong and hearty."

  "So I am, learned sir," replied Blaize, bowing to the ground; "butunderstanding from Mr. Parkhurst that you have an infallible remedyagainst the plague, I would gladly procure it from you, as, if I shouldbe attacked, I may not have an opportunity of consulting you."

  "Why not?" demanded Bottesham. "I will come to you if you send for me."

  "Because," replied Blaize, after a moment's hesitation, "my master isabout to shut up his house, and no one will be allowed to go forth, orto enter it, till the pestilence is at an end."

  "Your master must be mad to think of such a thing," rejoined Bottesham."What say you, brother Furbisher?--is that the way to keep off theplague?"

  "Gallipots of Galen! no," returned the other; "it is rather the way toinvite its assaults."

  "When does your master talk of putting this fatal design--for fatal itwill be to him and all his household--into execution?" demandedBottesham.

  "Very shortly, I believe," replied Blaize. "He meant to begin on thefirst of June, but as the pestilence is less violent than it was, DoctorHodges has induced him to defer his purpose for a few days."

  "Doctor Hodges!" exclaimed Bottesham, contemptuously. "It was anunfortunate day for your master when he admitted that sack-drinkingimpostor into his house."

  "I have no great opinion of his skill," replied Blaize, "but,nevertheless, it must be admitted that he cured Master Stephen in awonderful manner."

  "Pshaw!" exclaimed Bottesham, "that was mere accident. I heard theparticulars of the case from Parkhurst, and am satisfied the youth wouldhave recovered without his aid. But what a barbarian Mr. Bloundel mustbe to think of imprisoning his family in this way!"

  "He certainly does not consult my inclinations in the matter," returnedBlaize.

  "Nor those of his wife and daughter, I should imagine," continuedBottesham. "How do _they_ like it?"

  "I cannot exactly say," answered Blaize. "What a dreadful thing it wouldbe if I should be attacked by the plague, and no assistance could beprocured!"

  "It would be still more dreadful if so angelic a creature as Bloundel'sdaughter is represented to be--for I have never seen her--should be soseized," observed Bottesham. "I feel so much interested about her that Iwould do anything to preserve her from the fate with which she ismenaced."

  "Were it not inconsistent with your years, learned sir, I might suspectyou of a tenderer feeling towards her," observed Blaize, archly. "But,in good sooth, her charms are so extraordinary, that I should not besurprised at any effect they might produce."

  "They would produce no effect on me," replied Bottesham. "I am long pastsuch feelings. But in regard to yourself. You say you are afraid of theplague. I will give you an electuary to drive away the panic;" and heproduced a small jar, and handed it to the porter. "It is composed ofconserve of roses, gillyflowers, borage, candied citron, powder of_laetificans Galeni_, Roman zedoary, doronicum, and saffron. You musttake about the quantity of a large nutmeg, morning and evening."

  "You make me for ever your debtor, learned sir," rejoined Blaize. "Whata charming mixture!"

  "I will also add my remedy," said Furbisher. "It is a powder compoundedof crabs' eyes, burnt hartshorn, the black tops of crabs' claws, thebone from a stag's heart, unicorn's horn, and salt of vipers. You musttake one or two drams--not more--in a glass of hot posset-drink, whenyou go to bed, and swallow another draught of the same potion to wash itdown."

  "I will carefully observe your directions," replied Blaize, thankfullyreceiving the powder.

  "Of all things," said Bottesham, claiming the porter's attention bytapping him on the head with his cane, "take care never to be withoutvinegar. It is the grand specific, not merely against the plague, butagainst all disorders. It is food and physic, meat and medicine, drinkand julep, cordial and antidote. If you formerly took it as a sauce, nowtake it as a remedy. To the sound it is a preservative from sickness, tothe sick, a restorative to health. It is like the sword which is wornnot merely for ornament, but for defence. Vinegar is my remedy againstthe plague. It is a simple remedy, but an effectual one. I have cured athousand patients with it, and hope to cure a thousand more. Takevinegar with all you eat, and flavour all you drink with it. Has theplague taken away your appetite, vinegar will renew it. Is your throatulcerated, use vinegar as a gargle. Are you disturbed with phlegmatichumours, vinegar will remove them. Is your brain laden with vapours,throw vinegar on a hot shovel, and inhale its fumes, and you will obtaininstantaneous relief. Have you the headache, wet a napkin in vinegar,and apply it to your temples, and the pain will cease. In short, thereis no ailment that vinegar will not cure. It is the grand panacea; andmay be termed the elixir of long life."

  "I wonder its virtues have not been found out before," observed Blaize,innocently.

  "It is surprising how slow men are in discovering the most obvioustruths," replied Bottesham. "But take my advice, and never be withoutit."

  "I never will," returned Blaize. "Heaven be praised, my master has justordered in three tuns. I'll tap one of them directly."

  "That idea of the vinegar remedy is borrowed from Kemp's late treatiseon the pestilence and its cure," muttered Furbisher. "Before you enterupon the new system, young man," he added aloud to Blaize, "let merecommend you to fortify your stomach with a glass of canary."

  And pouring out a bumper, he handed it to the porter, who swallowed itat a draught.

  "And now," said Bottesham, "to return to this mad scheme of yourmaster's--is there no way of preventing it?"

  "I am aware of none," replied Blaize.

  "Bolts and bars!" cried Furbisher, "something must be done for the fairAmabel. We owe it to society not to permit so lovely a creature to bethus immured. What say you, Hawkswood?" he added to the gallant by hisside, who had not hitherto spoken.

  "It would be unpar
donable to permit it--quite unpardonable," repliedthis person.

  "Might not some plan be devised to remove her for a short time, andfrighten him out of his project?" said Bottesham. "I would willinglyassist in such a scheme. I pledge you in a bumper, young man. You appeara trusty servant."

  "I am so accounted, learned sir," replied Blaize, upon whose brain thewine thus plentifully bestowed began to operate--"and I may add, justlyso."

  "You really will be doing your master a service if you can prevent himfrom committing this folly," rejoined Bottesham.

  "Let us have a bottle of burnt malmsey, with a few bruised raisins init, Mr. Parkhurst. This poor young man requires support. Be seated,friend."

  With some hesitation, Blaize complied, and while the apothecary went insearch of the wine, he observed to Bottesham, "I would gladly complywith your suggestion, learned sir, if I saw any means of doing so."

  "Could you not pretend to have the plague?" said Bottesham. "I couldthen attend you."

  "I should be afraid of playing such a trick as that," replied Blaize."Besides, I do not see what purpose it would answer."

  "It would enable me to get into the house," returned Bottesham, "andthen I might take measures for Amabel's deliverance."

  "If you merely wish to get into the house," replied Blaize, "that can beeasily managed. I will admit you this evening."

  "Without your master's knowledge?" asked Bottesham, eagerly.

  "Of course," returned Blaize.

  "But he has an apprentice?" said the doctor.

  "Oh! you mean Leonard Holt," replied Blaize. "Yes, we must take care hedoesn't see you. If you come about nine o'clock, he will be engaged withmy master in putting away the things in the shop."

  "I will be punctual," replied Bottesham, "and will bring DoctorFurbisher with me. We will only stay a few minutes. But here comes theburnt malmsey. Fill the young man's glass, Parkhurst. I will insure youagainst the plague, if you will follow my advice."

  "But will you insure me against my master's displeasure, if he finds meout?" said Blaize.

  "I will provide you with a new one," returned Bottesham. "You shallserve me if you wish to change your place."

  "That would answer my purpose exactly," thought Blaize. "I need never beafraid of the plague if I live with him. I will turn over your proposal,learned sir," he added, aloud.

  After priming him with another bumper of malmsey, Blaise's new friendssuffered him to depart. On returning home, he proceeded to his own room,and feeling unusually drowsy, he threw himself on the bed, and almostinstantly dropped asleep. When he awoke, the fumes of the liquor had, ina great degree, evaporated, and he recalled, with considerableself-reproach, the promise he had given, and would gladly have recalledit, if it had been possible. But it was now not far from the appointedhour, and he momentarily expected the arrival of the two doctors. Theonly thing that consoled him was the store of medicine he had obtained,and, locking it up in his cupboard, he descended to the kitchen.Fortunately, his mother was from home, so that he ran no risk from her;and, finding Patience alone, after some hesitation, he let her into thesecret of his anticipated visitors. She was greatly surprised, andexpressed much uneasiness lest they should be discovered; as, if theywere so, it would be sure to bring them both into trouble.

  "What can they want with Mistress Amabel?" she cried. "I should notwonder if Doctor Calixtus Bottesham, as you call him, turns out a loverin disguise."

  "A lover!" exclaimed Blaize. "Your silly head is always running uponlovers. He's an old man--old enough to be your grandfather, with a longwhite beard, reaching to his waist. He a lover! Mr. Bloundel is muchmore like one."

  "For all that, it looks suspicious," returned Patience; "and I shallhave my eyes about me on their arrival."

  Shortly after this, Blaize crept cautiously up to the back yard, and,opening the door, found, as he expected, Bottesham and his companion.Motioning them to follow him, he led the way to the kitchen, where theyarrived without observation. Patience eyed the new-comers narrowly, andfelt almost certain, from their appearance and manner, that hersuspicions were correct. All doubts were removed when Bottesham,slipping a purse into her hand, entreated her, on some plea or other, toinduce Amabel to come into the kitchen. At first she hesitated; buthaving a tender heart, inclining her to assist rather than oppose thecourse of any love-affair, her scruples were soon overcome. Accordinglyshe hurried upstairs, and chancing to meet with her young mistress, whowas about to retire to her own chamber, entreated her to come down withher for a moment in the kitchen. Thinking it some unimportant matter,but yet wondering why Patience should appear so urgent, Amabel complied.She was still more perplexed when she saw the two strangers, and wouldhave instantly retired if Bottesham had not detained her.

  "You will pardon the liberty I have taken in sending for you," he said,"when I explain that I have done so to offer you counsel."

  "I am as much at a loss to understand what counsel you can have tooffer, sir, as to guess why you are here," she replied.

  "Amabel," returned Bottesham, in a low tone, but altering his voice, andslightly raising his spectacles so as to disclose his features; "it isI--Maurice Wyvil."

  "Ah!" she exclaimed, in the utmost astonishment.

  "I told you we should meet again," he rejoined; "and I have kept myword."

  "Think not to deceive me, my lord," she returned, controlling heremotion by a powerful effort. "I am aware you are not Maurice Wyvil, butthe Earl of Rochester. Your love is as false as your character. MistressMallet is the real object of your regards. You see I am acquainted withyour perfidy."

  "Amabel, you are deceived," replied Rochester. "On my soul, you are.When I have an opportunity of explaining myself more fully, I will proveto you that I was induced by the king, for an especial purpose, to payfeigned addresses to the lady you have named. But I never loved her. Youalone are the possessor of my heart, and shall be the sharer of mytitle. You shall be Countess of Rochester."

  "Could I believe you?" she cried.

  "You _may_ believe me," he answered. "Do not blight my hopes and yourown happiness a second time. Your father is about to shut up his housefor a twelvemonth, if the plague lasts so long. This done, we shall meetno more, for access to you will be impossible. Do not hesitate, or youwill for ever rue your irresolution."

  "I know not what to do," cried Amabel, distractedly.

  "Then I will decide for you," replied the earl, grasping her hand."Come!"

  While this was passing, Furbisher, or rather, as will be surmised,Pillichody, had taken Blaize aside, and engaged his attention bydilating upon the efficacy of a roasted onion filled with treacle in theexpulsion of the plague. Patience stationed herself near the door, notwith a view of interfering with the lovers, but rather of assistingthem; and at the very moment that the earl seized his mistress's hand,and would have drawn her forward, she ran towards them, and hastilywhispered, "Leonard Holt is coming downstairs."

  "Ah! I am lost!" cried Amabel.

  "Fear nothing," said the earl. "Keep near me, and I will soon dispose ofhim."

  As he spoke, the apprentice entered the kitchen, and, greatly surprisedby the appearance of the strangers, angrily demanded from Blaize whothey were.

  "They are two doctors come to give me advice respecting the plague,"stammered the porter.

  "How did they get into the house?" inquired Leonard.

  "I let them in through the back door," replied Blaize.

  "Then let them out by the same way," rejoined the apprentice. "May I askwhat you are doing here?" he added, to Amabel.

  "What is that to you, fellow?" cried Rochester, in his assumed voice.

  "Much, as you shall find, my lord," replied the apprentice; "for, inspite of your disguise, I know you. Quit the house instantly with yourcompanion, or I will give the alarm, and Amabel well knows what theconsequences will be."

  "You must go, my lord," she replied.

  "I will not stir unless you accompany me," said Rochester.

  "The
n I have no alternative," rejoined Leonard. "You know your father'sdetermination--I would willingly spare you, Amabel."

  "Oh, goodness! what _will_ become of us?" cried Patience--"if thereisn't Mr. Bloundel coming downstairs."

  "Amabel," said Leonard, sternly, "the next moment decides your fate. Ifthe earl departs, I will keep your secret."

  "You hear that, my lord," she cried; "I command you to leave me."

  And disengaging herself from him, and hastily passing her father, who atthat moment entered the kitchen, she rushed upstairs.

  On hearing the alarm of the grocer's approach, Pillichody took refuge ina cupboard, the door of which stood invitingly open, so that Bloundelonly perceived the earl.

  "What is the matter?" he cried, gazing around him. "Whom have we here?"

  "It is a quack doctor, whom Blaize has been consulting about theplague," returned Leonard.

  "See him instantly out of the house," rejoined the grocer, angrily, "andtake care he never enters it again. I will have no such charlatanshere."

  Leonard motioned Rochester to follow him, and the latter reluctantlyobeyed.

  As soon as Bloundel had retired, Leonard, who had meanwhile providedhimself with his cudgel, descended to the kitchen, where he draggedPillichody from his hiding-place, and conducted him to the back door.But he did not suffer him to depart without belabouring him soundly.Locking the door, he then went in search of Blaize, and administered asimilar chastisement to him.

  IV.

  THE TWO WATCHMEN.

  On the day following the events last related, as Leonard Holt wasstanding at the door of the shop,--his master having just been calledout by some important business,--a man in the dress of a watchman, witha halberd in his hand, approached him, and inquired if he was Mr.Bloundel's apprentice.

  Before returning an answer, Leonard looked hard at the newcomer, andthought he had never beheld so ill-favoured a person before. Everyfeature in his face was distorted. His mouth was twisted on one side,his nose on the other, while his right eyebrow was elevated more than aninch above the left; added to which he squinted intolerably, had a longfell of straight sandy hair, a sandy beard and moustache, and acomplexion of the colour of brickdust.

  "An ugly dog," muttered Leonard to himself, as he finished his scrutiny;"what can he want with me? Suppose I should be Mr. Bloundel'sapprentice," he added, aloud, "what then, friend?"

  "Your master has a beautiful daughter, has he not?" asked theill-favoured watchman.

  "I answer no idle questions," rejoined Leonard, coldly.

  "As you please," returned the other, in an offended tone. "A plan tocarry her off has accidentally come to my knowledge. But, sinceincivility is all I am likely to get for my pains in coming to acquaintyou with it, e'en find it out yourself."

  "Hold!" cried the apprentice, detaining him; "I meant no offence. Stepindoors for a moment. We can converse there more freely."

  The watchman, who, notwithstanding his ill-looks, appeared to be agood-natured fellow, was easily appeased. Following the apprentice intothe shop, on the promise of a handsome reward, he instantly commencedhis relation.

  "Last night," he said, "I was keeping watch at the door of Mr. Brackley,a saddler in Aldermanbury, whose house having been attacked by thepestilence is now shut up, when I observed two persons, rathersingularly attired, pass me. Both were dressed like old men, but neithertheir gait nor tone of voice corresponded with their garb."

  "It must have been the Earl of Rochester and his companion," remarkedLeonard.

  "You are right," replied the other; "for I afterwards heard one of themaddressed by that title. But to proceed. I was so much struck by thestrangeness of their appearance, that I left my post for a few minutes,and followed them. They halted beneath a gateway, and, as they conversedtogether very earnestly, and in a loud tone, I could distinctly hearwhat they said. One of them, the stoutest of the two, complainedbitterly of the indignities he had received from Mr. Bloundel'sapprentice (meaning you, of course), averring that nothing but hisdevotion to his companion had induced him to submit to them; andaffirming, with many tremendous oaths, that he would certainly cut theyoung man's throat the very first opportunity."

  "He shall not want it then," replied Leonard contemptuously; "neithershall he lack a second application of my cudgel when we meet. But whatof his companion? What did he say?"

  "He laughed heartily at the other's complaints," returned the watchman,"and told him to make himself easy, for he should soon have his revenge.'To-morrow night,' he said, 'we will carry off Amabel, in spite of theapprentice or her father; and, as I am equally indebted with yourself tothe latter, we will pay off old scores with him.'"

  "How do they intend to effect their purpose?" demanded Leonard.

  "That I cannot precisely tell," replied the watchman. "All I could hearwas, that they meant to enter the house by the back yard about midnight.And now, if you will make it worth my while, I will help you to catchthem in their own trap."

  "Hum!" said Leonard. "What is your name?"

  "Gregory Swindlehurst," replied the other.

  "To help me, you must keep watch with me to-night," rejoined Leonard."Can you do so?"

  "I see nothing to hinder me, provided I am paid for my trouble," repliedGregory. "I will find some one to take my place at Mr. Brackley's. Atwhat hour shall I come?"

  "Soon after ten," said Leonard. "Be at the shop-door, and I will let youin."

  "Count upon me," rejoined Gregory, a smile of satisfaction illumininghis ill-favoured countenance. "Shall I bring a comrade with me? I know atrusty fellow who would like the job. If Lord Rochester should have hiscompanions with him, assistance will be required."

  "True," replied Leonard. "Is your comrade a watchman, like yourself?"

  "He is an old soldier, who has been lately employed to keep guard overinfected houses," replied Gregory. "We must take care his lordship doesnot overreach us."

  "If he gets into the house without my knowledge, I will forgive him,"replied the apprentice.

  "He won't get into it without mine," muttered Gregory, significantly."But do you not mean to warn Mistress Amabel of her danger?"

  "I shall consider of it," replied the apprentice.

  At this moment Mr. Bloundel entered the shop, and Leonard, feigning tosupply his companion with a small packet of grocery, desired him, in alow tone, to be punctual to his appointment, and dismissed him. Injustice to the apprentice, it must be stated that he had no wish forconcealment, but was most anxious to acquaint his master with theinformation he had just obtained, and was only deterred from doing so bya dread of the consequences it might produce to Amabel.

  The evening passed off much as usual. The family assembled at prayer;and Blaize, whose shoulders still ached with the chastisement he hadreceived, eyed the apprentice with sullen and revengeful looks.Patience, too, was equally angry, and her indignation was evinced in amanner so droll, that at another season it would have drawn a smile fromLeonard.

  Supper over, Amabel left the room. Leonard followed her, and overtookher on the landing of the stairs.

  "Amabel," he said, "I have received certain intelligence that the Earlof Rochester will make another attempt to enter the house, and carry youoff to-night."

  "Oh! when will he cease from persecuting me?" she cried.

  "When you cease to encourage him," replied the apprentice, bitterly.

  "I do _not_ encourage him, Leonard," she rejoined, "and to prove that Ido not, I will act in any way you think proper tonight."

  "If I could trust you," said Leonard, you might be of the greatestservice in convincing the earl that his efforts are fruitless."

  "You _may_ trust me," she rejoined.

  "Well, then," returned Leonard, "when the family have retired to rest,come downstairs, and I will tell you what to do."

  Hastily promising compliance, Amabel disappeared; and Leonard ran downthe stairs, at the foot of which he encountered Mrs. Bloundel.

  "What is the matter?" she asked.
r />   "Nothing--nothing," replied the apprentice, evasively.

  "That-will not serve my turn," she rejoined. "Something, I am certain,troubles you, though you do not choose to confess it. Heaven grant youranxiety is not occasioned by aught relating to that wicked Earl ofRochester! I cannot sleep in my bed for thinking of him. I noticed thatyou followed Amabel out of the room. I hope you do not suspectanything."

  "Do not question me further, madam, I entreat," returned the apprentice."Whatever I may suspect, I have taken all needful precautions. Resteasy, and sleep soundly, if you can. All will go well."

  "I shall never rest easy, Leonard," rejoined Mrs. Bloundel, "till youare wedded to my daughter. Then, indeed, I shall feel happy. My poorchild, I am sure, is fully aware how indiscreet her conduct has been;and when this noble libertine desists from annoying her--or rather, whenhe is effectually shut out--we may hope for a return of her regard foryou."

  "It is a vain hope, madam," replied Leonard; "there will be no suchreturn. I neither expect it nor desire it."

  "Have you ceased to love her?" asked Mrs. Bloundel, in surprise.

  "Ceased to love her!" echoed Leonard, fiercely. "Would I had doneso!--would I _could_ do so! I love her too well--too well."

  And repeating the words to himself with great bitterness, he hurriedaway.

  "His passion has disturbed his brain," sighed Mrs. Bloundel, as sheproceeded to her chamber. "I must try to reason him into calmnessto-morrow."

  Half an hour after this, the grocer retired for the night; and Leonard,who had gone to his own room, cautiously opened the door, and repairedto the shop. On the way he met Amabel. She looked pale as death, andtrembled so violently, that she could scarcely support herself.

  "I hope you do not mean to use any violence towards the earl, Leonard?"she said in a supplicating voice.

  "He will never repeat his visit," rejoined the apprentice, gloomily.

  "Your looks terrify me," cried Amabel, gazing with great uneasiness athis stern and determined countenance. "I will remain by you. He willdepart at my bidding."

  "Did he depart at your bidding before?" demanded Leonard, sarcastically.

  "He did not, I grant," she replied, more supplicatingly than before."But do not harm him--for mercy's sake, do not--take my life sooner. Ialone have offended you."

  The apprentice made no reply, but, unlocking a box, took out a brace oflarge horse-pistols and a sword, and thrust them into his girdle.

  "You do not mean to use those murderous weapons?" cried Amabel.

  "It depends on circumstances," replied Leonard. "Force must be met byforce."

  "Nay, then," she rejoined, "the affair assumes too serious an aspect tobe trifled with. I will instantly alarm my father."

  "Do so," retorted Leonard, "and he will cast you off for ever."

  "Better that, than be the cause of bloodshed," she returned. "But isthere nothing I can do to prevent this fatal result?"

  "Yes," replied Leonard. "Make your lover understand he is unwelcome toyou. Dismiss him for ever. On that condition, he shall depart unharmedand freely."

  "I will do so," she rejoined.

  Nothing more was then said. Amabel seated herself and kept her eyesfixed on Leonard, who, avoiding her regards, stationed himself near thedoor.

  By-and-by a slight tap was heard without, and the apprentice cautiouslyadmitted Gregory Swindlehurst and his comrade. The latter was habitedlike the other watchman, in a blue night-rail, and was armed with ahalberd. He appeared much stouter, much older, and, so far as could bediscovered of his features--for a large handkerchief muffled hisface--much uglier (if that were possible) than his companion. Heanswered to the name of Bernard Boutefeu. They had no sooner entered theshop, than Leonard locked the door.

  "Who are these persons?" asked Amabel, rising in great alarm.

  "Two watchmen whom I have hired to guard the house," replied Leonard.

  "We are come to protect you, fair mistress," said Gregory, "and, if needbe, to cut the Earl of Rochester's throat."

  "Oh heavens!" exclaimed Amabel.

  "Ghost of Tarquin!" cried Boutefeu, "we'll teach him to break into thehouses of quiet citizens, and attempt to carry off their daughtersagainst their will. By the soul of Dick Whittington, Lord Mayor ofLondon! we'll maul and mangle him."

  "Silence! Bernard Boutefeu," interposed Gregory. "You frighten MistressAmabel by your strange oaths."

  "I should be sorry to do that," replied Boutefeu--"I only wish to showmy zeal for her. Don't be afraid of the Earl of Rochester, fairmistress. With all his audacity, he won't dare to enter the house whenhe finds we are there."

  "Is it your pleasure that we should thrust a halberd through his body,or lodge a bullet in his brain?" asked Gregory, appealing to Amabel.

  "Touch him not, I beseech you," she rejoined. "Leonard, I have yourpromise that, if I can prevail upon him to depart, you will not molesthim."

  "You have," he replied.

  "You hear that," she observed to the watchmen.

  "We are all obedience," said Gregory.

  "Bless your tender heart!" cried Boutefeu, "we would not pain you forthe world."

  "A truce to this," said Leonard. "Come to the yard, we will wait for himthere."

  "I will go with you," cried Amabel. "If any harm should befall him, Ishould never forgive myself."

  "Remember what I told you," rejoined Leonard, sternly; "it depends uponyourself whether he leaves the house alive."

  "Heed him not," whispered Gregory. "I and my comrade will obey no onebut you."

  Amabel could not repress an exclamation of surprise.

  "What are you muttering, sirrah?" demanded Leonard, angrily.

  "Only that the young lady may depend on our fidelity," replied Gregory."There can be no offence in that. Come with us," he whispered to Amabel.

  The latter part of his speech escaped Leonard, but the tone in which itwas uttered was so significant, that Amabel, who began to entertain newsuspicions, hesitated.

  "You must come," said Leonard, seizing her hand.

  "The fault be his, not mine," murmured Amabel, as she suffered herselfto be drawn along.

  The party then proceeded noiselessly towards the yard. On the way,Amabel felt a slight pressure on her arm, but, afraid of alarmingLeonard, she made no remark.

  The back-door was opened, and the little group stood in the darkness.They had not long to wait. Before they had been in the yard fiveminutes, a noise was heard of footsteps and muttered voices in theentry. This was followed by a sound like that occasioned by fastening arope-ladder against the wall, and the next moment two figures wereperceived above it. After dropping the ladder into the yard, thesepersons, the foremost of whom the apprentice concluded was the Earl ofRochester, descended. They had no sooner touched the ground thanLeonard, drawing his pistols, advanced towards them.

  "You are my prisoner, my lord," he said, in a stern voice, "and shallnot depart with life, unless you pledge your word never to come hitheragain on the same errand."

  "Betrayed!" cried the earl, laying his hand upon his sword.

  "Resistance is in vain, my lord," rejoined Leonard. "I am better armedthan yourself."

  "Will nothing bribe you to silence, fellow?" cried the earl. "I willgive you a thousand pounds, if you will hold your tongue, and conduct meto my mistress."

  "I can scarcely tell what stays my hand," returned Leonard, in a furioustone. "But I will hold no further conversation with you. Amabel ispresent, and will give you your final dismissal herself."

  "If I receive it from her own lips," replied the earl, "I will instantlyretire--but not otherwise."

  "Amabel," said Leonard in a low tone to her, "you hear what is said.Fulfil your promise."

  "Do so," cried a voice, which she instantly recognised, in her ear--"Iam near you."

  "Ah!" she exclaimed.

  "Do you hesitate?" cried the apprentice, sternly.

  "My lord," said Amabel, in a faint voice, "I must pray you to retire,your efforts are in
vain. I will never fly with you."

  "That will not suffice," whispered Leonard; "you must tell him you nolonger love him."

  "Hear me," pursued Amabel; "you who present yourself as Lord Rochester,I entertain no affection for you, and never wish to behold you again."

  "Enough!" cried Leonard.

  "Admirable!" whispered Gregory. "Nothing could be better."

  "Well," cried the supposed earl, "since I no longer hold a place in youraffections, it would be idle to pursue the matter further. Heaven bepraised, there are other damsels quite as beautiful, though not socruel. Farewell for ever, Amabel."

  So saying he mounted the ladder, and, followed by his companion,disappeared on the other side.

  "He is gone," said Leonard, "and I hope for ever. Now let us return tothe house."

  "I am coming," rejoined Amabel.

  "Let him go," whispered Gregory. "The ladder is still upon the wall; wewill climb it."

  And as the apprentice moved towards the house, he tried to drag her inthat direction.

  "I cannot--will not fly thus," she cried.

  "What is the matter?" exclaimed Leonard, suddenly turning.

  "Further disguise is useless," replied the supposed GregorySwindlehurst. "I am the Earl of Rochester. The other was a counterfeit."

  "Ah!" exclaimed Leonard, rushing towards them, and placing a pistolagainst the breast of his mistress? "Have I been duped? But it is notyet too late to retrieve my error. Move a foot further, my lord,--and doyou, Amabel, attempt to fly with him, and I fire."

  "You cannot mean this?" cried Rochester. "Raise your hand against thewoman you love?"

  "Against the woman who forgets her duty, and the libertine who temptsher, the arm that is raised is that of justice," replied Leonard. "Stiranother footstep, and I fire."

  As he spoke, his arms were suddenly seized by a powerful grasp frombehind, and, striking the pistols from his hold, the earl snatched upAmabel in his arms, and, mounting the ladder, made good his retreat.

  A long and desperate struggle took place between Leonard and hisassailant, who was no other than Pillichody, in his assumed character ofBernard Boutefeu. But notwithstanding the superior strength of thebully, and the advantage he had taken of the apprentice, he was worstedin the end.

  Leonard had no sooner extricated himself, than, drawing his sword, hewould have passed it through Pillichody's body, if the latter had notstayed his hand by offering to tell him where he would find hismistress, provided his life were spared.

  "Where has the earl taken her?" cried Leonard, scarcely able toarticulate from excess of passion.

  "He meant to take her to Saint Paul's,--to the vaults below thecathedral, to avoid pursuit," replied Pillichody. "I have no doubt youwill find her there."

  "I will go there instantly and search," cried Leonard, rushing up theladder.

  V.

  THE BLIND PIPER AND HIS DAUGHTER

  Scarcely knowing how he got there, Leonard Holt found himself at thegreat northern entrance of the cathedral. Burning with fury, he knockedat the door; but no answer being returned to the summons, though herepeated it still more loudly, he shook the heavy latch with suchviolence as to rouse the sullen echoes of the aisles. Driven almost todesperation, he retired a few paces, and surveyed the walls of the vaststructure, in the hope of descrying some point by which he might obtainan entrance.

  It was a bright moonlight night, and the reverend pile looked sobeautiful, that, under any other frame of mind, Leonard must, have beenstruck with admiration. The ravages of time could not now be discerned,and the architectural incongruities which, seen in the broad glare ofday, would have offended the eye of taste, were lost in the generalgrand effect. On the left ran the magnificent pointed windows of thechoir, divided by massive buttresses,--the latter ornamented withcrocketed pinnacles. On the right, the building had been new-faced, andits original character, in a great measure, destroyed by the tastelessmanner in which the repairs had been executed. On this side, the lowerwindows were round-headed and separated by broad pilasters, while abovethem ran a range of small circular windows. At the western angle wasseen one of the towers (since imitated by Wren), which flanked this sideof the fane, together with a part of the portico erected, abouttwenty-five years previously, by Inigo Jones, and which, thoughbeautiful in itself, was totally out of character with the edifice, and,in fact, a blemish to it.

  Insensible alike to the beauties or defects of the majestic building,and regarding it only as the prison of his mistress, Leonard Holtscanned it carefully on either side. But his scrutiny was attended withno favourable result.

  Before resorting to force to obtain admission, he determined to make thecomplete circuit of the structure, and with this view he shaped hiscourse towards the east.

  He found two small doors on the left of the northern transept, but bothwere fastened, and the low pointed windows beneath the choir, lightingthe subterranean church of Saint Faith's, were all barred. Running on,he presently came to a flight of stone steps at the north-east corner ofthe choir, leading to a portal opening upon a small chapel dedicated toSaint George. But this was secured like the others, and, thinking itvain to waste time in trying to force it, he pursued his course.

  Skirting the eastern extremity of the fane--then the most beautiful partof the structure, from its magnificent rose window--he speeded past thelow windows which opened on this side, as on the other upon SaintFaith's, and did not pause till he came to the great southern portal,the pillars and arch of which differed but slightly in character fromthose of the northern entrance.

  Here he knocked as before, and was answered, as on the former occasion,by sullen echoes from within. When these sounds died away, he placed hisear to the huge key-hole in the wicket, but could not even catch thefall of a footstep. Neither could he perceive any light, except thatafforded by the moonbeams, which flooded the transept with radiance.

  Again hurrying on, he passed the cloister-walls surrounding theConvocation House; tried another door between that building and thechurch of Saint Gregory, a small fane attached to the larger structure;and failing in opening it, turned the corner and approached theportico,--the principal entrance to the cathedral being then, as now, onthe west.

  Erected, as before mentioned, from the designs of the celebrated InigoJones, this magnificent colonnade was completed about 1640, at whichtime preparations were made for repairing the cathedral throughout, andfor strengthening the tower, for enabling it to support a new spire. Butthis design, owing to the disorganised state of affairs, was nevercarried into execution.

  At the time of the Commonwealth, while the interior of the sacred fabricunderwent every sort of desecration and mutilation,--while stones weretorn from the pavement, and monumental brasses from tombs,--while carvedstalls were burnt, and statues plucked from their niches,--a similarfate attended the portico. Shops were built beneath it, and thesculptures ornamenting its majestic balustrade were thrown down.

  Amongst other obstructions, it appears that there was a "high house inthe north angle, which hindered the masons from repairing that part ofit." The marble door-cases, the capitals, cornices, and pillars were somuch injured by the fires made against them, that it required months toput them in order. At the Restoration, Sir John Denham, the poet, wasappointed surveyor-general of the works, and continued to hold theoffice at the period of this history.

  As Leonard drew near the portico, he perceived, to his surprise, that alarge concourse of people was collected in the area in front of it; and,rushing forward, he found the assemblage listening to the denunciationsof Solomon Eagle, who was standing in the midst of them with his brazieron his head. The enthusiast appeared more than usually excited. He wastossing aloft his arms in a wild and frenzied manner, and seemed to bedirecting his menaces against the cathedral itself.

  Hoping to obtain assistance from the crowd, Leonard resolved to await afitting period to address them. Accordingly, he joined them, andlistened to the discourse of the enthusiast.

 
"Hear me!" cried the latter, in a voice of thunder. "I had a vision lastnight and will relate it to you. During my brief slumbers, I thought Iwas standing on this very spot, and gazing as now upon yon mightystructure. On a sudden the day became overcast, and ere long it grewpitchy dark. Then was heard a noise of rushing wings in the air, and Icould just discern many strange figures hovering above the tower,uttering doleful cries and lamentations. All at once these figuresdisappeared, and gave place to, or, it may be, were chased away by,others of more hideous appearance. The latter brought lighted brandswhich they hurled against the sacred fabric, and, in an instant, flamesburst forth from it on all sides. My brethren, it was a fearful, yet aglorious sight to see that vast pile wrapped in the devouring element!The flames were so vivid--so intense--that I could not bear to look uponthem, and I covered my face with my hands. On raising my eyes again theflames were extinguished, but the building was utterly in ruins--itscolumns cracked--its tower hurled from its place--its ponderous rooflaid low. It was a mournful spectacle, and a terrible proof of theDivine wrath and vengeance. Yes, my brethren, the temple of the Lord hasbeen profaned, and it will be razed to the ground. It has been the sceneof abomination and impiety, and must be purified by fire. Theft, murder,sacrilege, and every other crime have been committed within its walls,and its destruction will follow. The ministers of Heaven's vengeance areeven now hovering above it. Repent, therefore, ye who listen to me, andrepent speedily; for sudden death, plague, fire, and famine, are athand. As the prophet Amos saith, 'The Lord will send a fire, the Lordwill commission a fire, the Lord will kindle a fire;' and the fire socommissioned and so kindled shall consume you and your city; nor shallone stone of those walls be left standing on another. Repent, or burn,for he cometh to judge the earth. Repent, or burn, I say!"

  As soon as he concluded, Leonard Holt ran up the steps of the portico,and in a loud voice claimed the attention of the crowd.

  "Solomon Eagle is right," he cried; "the vengeance of Heaven willdescend upon this fabric, since it continues to be the scene of so muchwickedness. Even now it forms the retreat of a profligate nobleman, whohas this night forcibly carried off the daughter of a citizen."

  "What nobleman?" cried a bystander.

  "The Earl of Rochester," replied Leonard. "He has robbed StephenBloundel, the grocer of Wood-street, of his daughter, and has concealedher, to avoid pursuit, in the vaults of the cathedral."

  "I know Mr. Bloundel well," rejoined the man who had made the inquiry,and whom Leonard recognised as a hosier named Lamplugh, "and I know theperson who addresses us. It is his apprentice. We must restore thedamsel to her father, friends."

  "Agreed!" cried several voices.

  "Knock at the door," cried a man, whose occupation of a smith wasproclaimed by his leathern apron, brawny chest, and smoke-begrimedvisage, as well as by the heavy hammer which he bore upon his shoulder."If it is not instantly opened, we will break it down. I have animplement here which will soon do the business."

  A rush was then made to the portal, which rang with the heavy blowsdealt against it. While this was passing, Solomon Eagle, whoseexcitement was increased by the tumult, planted himself in the centre ofthe colonnade, and vociferated--"I speak in the words of the prophetEzekiel:--'Thou hast defiled thy sanctuaries by the multitude of thineiniquities, by the iniquity of thy traffic. Therefore will I bring fortha fire from the midst of thee, and will bring thee to ashes upon theearth, in the sight of all them that behold thee!'"

  The crowd continued to batter the door until they were checked byLamplugh, who declared he heard some one approaching, and the nextmoment the voice of one of the vergers inquired in trembling tones, whothey were, and what they wanted.

  "No matter who we are," replied Leonard, "we demand admittance to searchfor a young female who has been taken from her home by the Earl ofRochester, and is now concealed within the vaults of the cathedral."

  "If admittance is refused us, we will soon let ourselves in,"vociferated Lamplugh.

  "Ay, that we will," added the smith.

  "You are mistaken, friends," returned the verger, timorously. "The Earlof Rochester is not here."

  "We will not take your word for it," rejoined the smith. "This will showyou we are not to be trifled with."

  So saying, he raised his hammer, and struck such a tremendous blowagainst the door, that the bolts started in their sockets.

  "Hold! hold!" cried the verger; "sooner than violence shall becommitted, I will risk your admission."

  And he unfastened the door.

  "Keep together," shouted the smith, stretching out his arms to opposethe progress of the crowd. "Keep together, I say."

  "Ay, ay, keep together," added Lamplugh, seconding his efforts.

  "Conduct us to the Earl of Rochester, and no harm shall befall you,"cried Leonard, seizing the verger by the collar.

  "I tell you I know nothing about him," replied the man. "He is nothere."

  "It is false! you are bribed to silence," rejoined the apprentice. "Wewill search till we find him."

  "Search where you please," rejoined the verger; "and if you _do_ findhim, do what you please with me."

  "Don't be afraid of that, friend," replied the smith; "we will hang youand the earl to the same pillar."

  By this time, the crowd had pushed aside the opposition offered by thesmith and Lamplugh. Solomon Eagle darted along the nave with lightningswiftness, and, mounting the steps leading to the choir, disappearedfrom view. Some few persons followed him, while others took their coursealong the aisles. But the majority kept near the apprentice.

  Snatching the lamp from the grasp of the verger, Leonard Holt ran onwith his companions till they came to the beautiful chapel built byThomas Kempe, bishop of London. The door was open, and the apprentice,holding the light forward, perceived there were persons inside. He wasabout to enter the chapel, when a small spaniel rushed forth, and,barking furiously, held him in check for a moment. Alarmed by the noise,an old man in a tattered garb, and a young female, who were slumberingon benches in the chapel, immediately started to their feet, andadvanced towards them.

  "We are mistaken," said Lamplugh; "this is only Mike Macascree, theblind piper and his daughter Nizza. I know them well enough."

  Leonard was about to proceed with his search, but a slight circumstancedetained him for a few minutes, during which time he had sufficientleisure to note the extraordinary personal attractions of NizzaMacascree.

  In age she appeared about seventeen, and differed in the character ofher beauty, as well as in the natural gracefulness of her carriage anddemeanour, from all the persons he had seen in her humble sphere oflife. Her features were small, and of the utmost delicacy. She had acharmingly-formed nose--slightly _retrousse_--a small mouth, garnishedwith pearl-like teeth, and lips as fresh and ruddy as the dew-steepedrose. Her skin was as dark as a gipsy's, but clear and transparent, andfar more attractive than the fairest complexion. Her eyes were luminousas the stars, and black as midnight; while her raven tresses, gatheredbeneath a spotted kerchief tied round her head, escaped in many a wantoncurl down her shoulders. Her figure was slight, but exquisitelyproportioned; and she had the smallest foot and ankle that ever fell tothe lot of woman. Her attire was far from unbecoming, though of thecoarsest material; and her fairy feet were set off by the daintiestshoes and hose. Such was the singular and captivating creature thatattracted the apprentice's attention.

  Her father, Mike Macascree, was upwards of sixty, but still in the fullvigour of life, with features which, though not ill-looking, bore noparticular resemblance to those of his daughter. He had a good-humoured,jovial countenance, the mirthful expression of which even his sightlessorbs could not destroy. Long white locks descended upon his shoulders,and a patriarchal beard adorned his chin. He was wrapped in a loose greygown, patched with different coloured cloths, and supported himself witha staff. His pipe was suspended from his neck by a green worsted cord.

  "Lie down, Bell," he cried to his dog; "what are you barking at thus?Lie do
wn, I say."

  "Something is the matter, father," replied Nizza. "The church is full ofpeople."

  "Indeed!" exclaimed the piper.

  "We are sorry to disturb you," said Leonard; "but we are in search of anobleman who has run away with a citizen's daughter, and conveyed her tothe cathedral, and we thought they might have taken refuge in thischapel."

  "No one is here except myself and daughter," replied the piper. "We areallowed this lodging by Mr. Quatremain, the minor canon."

  "All dogs are ordered to be destroyed by the Lord Mayor," cried thesmith, seizing Bell by the neck. "This noisy animal must be silenced."

  "Oh, no! do not hurt her!" cried Nizza. "My father loves poor Bellalmost as well as he loves me. She is necessary to his existence. Youmust not--will not destroy her!"

  "Won't I?" replied the smith, gruffly; "we'll see that."

  "But we are not afraid of contagion, are we, father?" cried Nizza,appealing to the piper.

  "Not in the least," replied Mike, "and we will take care the poor beasttouches no one else. Do not harm her, sir--for pity's sake, do not. Ishould miss her sadly."

  "The Lord Mayor's commands must be obeyed," rejoined the smith,brutally.

  As if conscious of the fate awaiting her, poor Bell struggled hard toget free, and uttered a piteous yell.

  "You are not going to kill the dog?" interposed Leonard.

  "Have you anything to say to the contrary?" rejoined the smith, in atone calculated, as he thought, to put an end to further interference.

  "Only this," replied Leonard, "that I will not allow it."

  "You won't--eh?" returned the smith, derisively.

  "I will not," rejoined Leonard, "so put her down and come along."

  "Go your own way," replied the smith, "and leave me to mine."

  Leonard answered by snatching Bell suddenly from his grasp. Thusliberated, the terrified animal instantly flew to her mistress.

  "Is this the return I get for assisting you?" cried the smith, savagely."You are bewitched by a pair of black eyes. But you will repent yourfolly."

  "I shall never forget your kindness," replied Nizza, clasping Bell toher bosom, and looking gratefully at the apprentice. "You say you are insearch of a citizen's daughter and a nobleman. About half an hour ago,or scarcely so much, I was awakened by the opening of the door of thesouthern transept, and peeping out, I saw three persons--a young man inthe dress of a watchman, but evidently disguised, and a very beautifulyoung woman, conducted by Judith Malmayns, bearing a lantern,--passthrough the doorway leading to Saint Faith's. Perhaps they are the verypersons you are in search of."

  "They are," returned Leonard; "and you have repaid me a hundredfold forthe slight service I have rendered you by the information. We willinstantly repair to the vaults. Come along."

  Accompanied by the whole of the assemblage, except the smith, whoskulked off in the opposite direction, he passed through the low doorwayon the right of the choir, and descended to Saint Faith's. Thesubterranean church was buried in profound darkness, and apparentlywholly untenanted. On reaching the charnel, they crossed it, and triedthe door of the vault formerly occupied by the sexton. It was fastened,but Leonard knocking violently against it, it was soon opened by JudithMalmayns, who appeared much surprised, and not a little alarmed, at thesight of so many persons. She was not alone, and her companion wasChowles. He was seated at a table, on which stood a flask of brandy anda couple of glasses, and seemed a good deal confused at being caught insuch a situation, though he endeavoured to cover his embarrassment by anair of effrontery.

  "Where is the Earl of Rochester?--where is Amabel?" demanded LeonardHolt.

  "I know nothing about either of them," replied Judith. "Why do you putthese questions to me?"

  "Because you admitted them to the cathedral," cried the apprentice,furiously, "and because you have concealed them. If you do not instantlyguide me to their retreat, I will make you a terrible example to allsuch evil-doers in future."

  "If you think to frighten me by your violence, you are mistaken,"returned Judith, boldly. "Mr. Chowles has been here more than twohours--ask him whether he has seen any one."

  "Certainly not," replied Chowles. "There is no Amabel--no Earl ofRochester here. You must be dreaming, young man."

  "The piper's daughter affirmed the contrary," replied Leonard. "She saidshe saw this woman admit them."

  "She lies," replied Judith, fiercely. But suddenly altering her tone,she continued, "If I _had_ admitted them, you would find them here."

  Leonard looked round uneasily. He was but half convinced, and yet hescarcely knew what to think.

  "If you doubt what I say to you," continued Judith, "I will take you toevery chamber in the cathedral. You will then be satisfied that I speakthe truth. But I will not have this mob with me. Your companions mustremain here."

  "Ay, stop with me and make yourselves comfortable," cried Chowles. "Youare not so much used to these places as I am, I prefer a snug crypt,like this, to the best room in a tavern--ha! ha!"

  Attended by Judith, Leonard Holt searched every corner of thesubterranean church, except the vestry, the door of which was locked,and the key removed; but without success. They then ascended to theupper structure, and visited the choir, the transepts, and the nave, butwith no better result.

  "If you still think they are here," said Judith, "we will mount to thesummit of the tower?"

  "I will never quit the cathedral without them," replied Leonard.

  "Come on, then," returned Judith.

  So saying, she opened the door in the wall on the left of the choir,and, ascending a winding stone staircase to a considerable height,arrived at a small cell contrived within the thickness of the wall, anddesired Leonard to search it. The apprentice unsuspectingly obeyed. Buthe had scarcely set foot inside when the door was locked behind him, andhe was made aware of the treachery practised upon him by a peal ofmocking laughter from his conductress.

  VI.

  OLD LONDON FROM OLD SAINT PAUL'S.

  After repeated, but ineffectual efforts to burst open the door, Leonardgave up the attempt in despair, and endeavoured to make his situationknown by loud outcries. But his shouts, if heard, were unheeded, and hewas soon compelled from exhaustion to desist. Judith having carried awaythe lantern, he was left in total darkness; but on searching the cell,which was about four feet wide and six deep, he discovered a narrowgrated loophole. By dint of great exertion, and with the help of hissword, which snapped in twain as he used it, he managed to force off oneof the rusty bars, and to squeeze himself through the aperture. All hislabour, however, was thrown away. The loophole opened on the south sideof the tower, near one of the large buttresses, which projected severalyards beyond it on the left, and was more than twenty feet above theroof; so that it would be certain destruction to drop from so great aheight.

  The night was overcast, and the moon hidden behind thick clouds. Still,there was light enough to enable him to discern the perilous position inwhich he stood. After gazing below for some time, Leonard was about toreturn to the cell, when, casting his eyes upwards, he thought heperceived the end of a rope about a foot above his head, dangling fromthe upper part of the structure. No sooner was this discovery made, thanit occurred to him that he might possibly liberate himself by thisunlooked for aid; and, regardless of the risk he ran, he sprang upwardsand caught hold of the rope. It was firmly fastened above, and sustainedhis weight well.

  Possessed of great bodily strength and activity, and nerved bydesperation, Leonard Holt placed his feet against the buttress, andimpelled himself towards one of the tall pointed windows lighting theinterior of the tower; but though he reached the point at which heaimed, the sway of the rope dragged him back before he could obtain asecure grasp of the stone shaft; and, after another ineffectual effort,fearful of exhausting his strength, he abandoned the attempt, and beganto climb up the rope with his hands and knees. Aided by the inequalitiesof the roughened walls, he soon gained a range of small Saxon archesornament
ing the tower immediately beneath the belfry, and succeeded inplanting his right foot on the moulding of one of them; he instantlysteadied himself, and with little further effort clambered through anopen window.

  His first act on reaching the belfry was to drop on his knees, andreturn thanks to Heaven for his deliverance. He then looked about for anoutlet; but though a winding staircase existed in each of the fourangles of the tower, all the doors, to his infinite disappointment, werefastened on the other side. He was still, therefore, a prisoner.

  Determined, however, not to yield to despair, he continued his search,and finding a small door opening upon a staircase communicating with thesummit of the tower, he unfastened it (for the bolt was on his ownside), and hurried up the steps. Passing through another door boltedlike the first within side, he issued upon the roof. He was now on thehighest part of the cathedral, and farther from his hopes than ever; andso agonizing were his feelings, that he almost felt tempted to flinghimself headlong downwards. Beneath him lay the body of the mightyfabric, its vast roof, its crocketed pinnacles, its buttresses andbattlements scarcely discernible through the gloom, but looking likesome monstrous engine devised to torture him.

  Wearied with gazing at it, and convinced of the futility of any furtherattempt at descent, Leonard Holt returned to the belfry, and, throwinghimself on the boarded floor, sought some repose. The fatigue he hadundergone was so great, that, notwithstanding his anxiety, he soondropped asleep, and did not awake for several hours. On opening hiseyes, it was just getting light, and shaking himself, he again preparedfor action. All the events of the night rushed upon his mind, and hethought with unutterable anguish of Amabel's situation. Glancing roundthe room, it occurred to him that he might give the alarm by ringing theenormous bells near him; but though he set them slightly in motion, hecould not agitate the immense clappers sufficiently to produce anysound.

  Resolved, however, to free himself at any hazard, he once more repairedto the summit of the tower, and leaning over the balustrade, gazedbelow. It was a sublime spectacle, and, in spite of his distress, filledhim with admiration and astonishment. He had stationed himself on thesouth side of the tower, and immediately beneath him lay the broad roofof the transept, stretching out to a distance of nearly two hundredfeet. On the right, surrounded by a double row of cloisters, remarkablefor the beauty of their architecture, stood the convocation, orchapter-house. The exquisite building was octagonal in form, andsupported by large buttresses, ornamented on each gradation by crocketedpinnacles. Each side, moreover, had a tall pointed window, filled withstained glass, and was richly adorned with trefoils and cinquefoils.Further on, on the same side, was the small low church dedicated toSaint Gregory, overtopped by the south-western tower of the mightierparent fane.

  It was not, however, the cathedral itself, but the magnificent view itcommanded, that chiefly attracted the apprentice's attention. From theelevated point on which he stood, his eye ranged over a vast tract ofcountry bounded by the Surrey hills, and at last settled upon the river,which in some parts was obscured by a light haze, and in others tingedwith the ruddy beams of the newly-risen sun. Its surface was spotted,even at this early hour, with craft, while innumerable vessels of allshapes and sizes were moored, to its banks. On. the left, he noted thetall houses covering London Bridge; and on the right, traced thesweeping course of the stream as it flowed from Westminster. On thishand, on the opposite bank, lay the flat marshes of Lambeth; whilenearer stood the old bull-baiting and bear-baiting establishments, theflags above which could be discerned above the tops of the surroundinghabitations. A little to the left was the borough of Southwark, eventhen a large and populous district--the two most prominent features inthe scene being Winchester House, and Saint Saviour's old and beautifulchurch.

  Filled with wonder at what he saw, Leonard looked towards the east, andhere an extraordinary prospect met his gaze. The whole of the city ofLondon was spread out like a map before him, and presented a dense massof ancient houses, with twisted chimneys, gables, and picturesqueroofs--here and there overtopped by a hall, a college, an hospital, orsome other lofty structure. This vast collection of buildings was girdedin by grey and mouldering walls, approached by seven gates, andintersected by innumerable narrow streets. The spires and towers of thechurches shot up into the clear morning air--for, except in a fewquarters, no smoke yet issued from the chimneys. On this side, the viewof the city was terminated by the fortifications and keep of the Tower.Little did the apprentice think, when he looked at the magnificent scenebefore him, and marvelled at the countless buildings he beheld, that,ere fifteen months had elapsed, the whole mass, together with the mightyfabric on which he stood, would be swept away by a tremendousconflagration. Unable to foresee this direful event, and lamenting onlythat so fair a city should be a prey to an exterminating pestilence, heturned towards the north, and suffered his gaze to wander overFinsbury-fields, and the hilly ground beyond them--over Smithfield andClerkenwell, and the beautiful open country adjoining Gray's-inn-lane.

  So smiling and beautiful did these districts appear, that he couldscarcely fancy they were the chief haunts of the horrible distemper. Buthe could not blind himself to the fact that in Finsbury-fields, as wellas in the open country to the north of Holborn, plague-pits had beendigged and pest-houses erected; and this consideration threw such agloom over the prospect, that, in order to dispel the effect, he changedthe scene by looking towards the west. Here his view embraced all theproudest mansions of the capital, and tracing the Strand to CharingCross, long since robbed of the beautiful structure from which itderived its name, and noticing its numerous noble habitations, his eyefinally rested upon Whitehall: and he heaved a sigh as he thought thatthe palace of the sovereign was infected by as foul a moral taint as thehideous disease that ravaged the dwellings of his subjects.

  At the time that Leonard Holt gazed upon the capital, its picturesquebeauties were nearly at their close. In a little more than a year and aquarter afterwards, the greater part of the old city was consumed byfire; and though it was rebuilt, and in many respects improved, itsoriginal and picturesque character was entirely destroyed.

  It seems scarcely possible to conceive a finer view than can be gainedfrom the dome of the modern cathedral at sunrise on a May morning, whenthe prospect is not dimmed by the smoke of a hundred thousandchimneys--when the river is just beginning to stir with its numerouscraft, or when they are sleeping on its glistening bosom--when everyindividual house, court, church, square, or theatre, can bediscerned--when the eye can range over the whole city on each side, andcalculate its vast extent. It seems scarcely possible, we say, tosuppose at any previous time it could be more striking; and yet, at theperiod under consideration, it was incomparably more so. Then, everyhouse was picturesque, and every street a collection of picturesqueobjects. Then, that which was objectionable in itself, and contributedto the insalubrity of the city, namely, the extreme narrowness of thestreets, and overhanging stories of the houses, was the main source oftheir beauty. Then, the huge projecting signs with their fantasticaliron-work--the conduits--the crosses (where crosses remained)--themaypoles--all were picturesque; and as superior to what can now be seen,as the attire of Charles the Second's age is to the ugly and disfiguringcostume of our own day.

  Satiated with this glorious prospect, Leonard began to recur to his ownsituation, and carefully scrutinizing every available point on the sideof the Tower, he thought it possible to effect his descent by clamberingdown the gradations of one of the buttresses. Still, as this experimentwould be attended with the utmost danger, while, even if he reached theroof, he would yet be far from his object, he resolved to defer it for ashort time, in the hope that ere long seine of the bell-ringers, orother persons connected with the cathedral, might come thither and sethim free.

  While thus communing with himself, he heard a door open below; andhurrying down the stairs at the sound, he beheld, to his great surpriseand joy, the piper's daughter, Nizza Macascree.

  "I have searched for you
everywhere," she cried, "and began to thinksome ill had befallen you. I overheard Judith Malmayns say she had shutyou up in a cell in the upper part of the tower. How did you escapethence?"

  Leonard hastily explained.

  "I told you I should never forget the service you rendered me inpreserving the life of poor Bell," pursued Nizza, "and what I have donewill prove I am not unmindful of my promise I saw you search thecathedral last night with Judith, and noticed that she returned from thetower unaccompanied by you. At first I supposed you might have left thecathedral without my observing you, and I was further confirmed in theidea by what I subsequently heard."

  "Indeed!" exclaimed Leonard. "What did you hear?"

  "I followed Judith to the vaults of Saint Faith's," replied Nizza, "andheard her inform your companions that you had found the grocer'sdaughter, and had taken her away."

  "And this false statement imposed upon them?" cried Leonard.

  "It did," replied Nizza. "They were by this time more than halfintoxicated by the brandy given them by Chowles, the coffin-maker, andthey departed in high dudgeon with you."

  "No wonder!" exclaimed Leonard.

  "They had scarcely been gone many minutes," pursued Nizza, "when, havingstationed myself behind one of the massive pillars in the north aisle ofSaint Faith's--for I suspected something was wrong--I observed Judithand Chowles steal across the nave, and proceed towards the vestry. Theformer tapped at the door, and they were instantly admitted by Mr.Quatremain, the minor canon. Hastening to the door, which was leftslightly ajar, I perceived two young gallants, whom I heard addressed asthe Earl of Rochester and Sir George Etherege, and a young female, who Icould not doubt was Amabel. The earl and his companion laughed heartilyat the trick Judith had played you, and which the latter detailed tothem; but Amabel took no part in their merriment, but, on the contrary,looked very grave, and even wept."

  "Wept, did she?" cried Leonard, in a voice of much emotion. "Then, thereis hope for her yet."

  "You appear greatly interested in her," observed Nizza, pausing, in hernarration. "Do you love her?"

  "Can you ask it?" cried Leonard, passionately.

  "I would advise you to think no more of her, and to fix your heartelsewhere," returned Nizza.

  "You know not what it is to love," replied the apprentice, "or you wouldnot offer such a counsel."

  "Perhaps not," replied Nizza; "but I am sorry you have bestowed yourheart upon one who so little appreciates the boon."

  And, feeling she had said too much, she blushed deeply, and cast downher eyes.

  Unconscious of her confusion, and entirely engrossed by the thought ofhis mistress, Leonard urged her to proceed.

  "Tell me what has become of Amabel--where I shall find her?" he cried.

  "You will find her soon enough," replied Nizza. "She has not left thecathedral. But hear me to an end. On learning you were made a prisoner,I ran to the door leading to the tower, but found that Judith had lockedit, and removed the key. Not daring to give the alarm--for I hadgathered from what was said that the three vergers were in the earl'spay--I determined to await a favourable opportunity to release you.Accordingly I returned to the vestry door, and again played theeaves-dropper. By this time, another person, who was addressed as MajorPillichody, and who, it appeared, had been employed in the abduction,had joined the party. He informed the earl that Mr. Bloundel was in thegreatest distress at his daughter's disappearance, and advised him tolose no time in conveying her to some secure retreat. These tidingstroubled Amabel exceedingly, and the earl endeavoured to pacify her bypromising to espouse her at daybreak, and, as soon as the ceremony wasover, to introduce her in the character of his countess to her parents."

  "Villain!" cried Leonard; "but go on."

  "I have little more to tell," replied Nizza, "except that she consentedto the proposal, provided she was allowed to remain till six o'clock,the hour appointed for the marriage, with Judith."

  "Bad as that alternative is, it is better than the other," observedLeonard. "But how did you procure the key of the winding staircase?"

  "I fortunately observed where Judith had placed it," replied Nizza, "andwhen she departed to the crypt near the charnel, with Amabel, Ipossessed myself of it. For some time I was unable to use it, becausethe Earl of Rochester and Sir George Etherege kept pacing to and fro infront of the door, and their discourse convinced me that the marriagewas meant to be a feigned one, for Sir George strove to dissuade hisfriend from the step he was about to take; but the other only laughed athis scruples. As soon as they retired, which is not more than half anhour ago, I unlocked the door, and hurried up the winding stairs. Isearched every chamber, and began to think you were gone, or thatJudith's statement was false. But I resolved to continue my search untilI was fully satisfied on this point, and accordingly ascended to thebelfry. You are aware of the result."

  "You have rendered me a most important service," replied Leonard; "and Ihope hereafter to prove my gratitude. But let us now descend to thechoir, where I will conceal myself till Amabel appears. This marriagemust be prevented."

  Before quitting the belfry, Leonard chanced to cast his eyes on a stoutstaff left there, either by one of the bell-ringers or some chancevisitant, and seizing it as an unlooked-for prize, he ran down thesteps, followed by the piper's daughter.

  On opening the lowest door, he glanced towards the choir, and therebefore the high altar stood Quatremain in his surplice, with the earland Amabel, attended by Etherege and Pillichody. The ceremony had justcommenced. Not a moment was to be lost. Grasping his staff, theapprentice darted along the nave, and, rushing up to the pair,exclaimed in a loud voice, "Hold! I forbid this marriage. It must nottake place!"

  "Back, sirrah!" cried Etherege, drawing his sword, and opposing theapproach of the apprentice. "You have no authority to interrupt it.Proceed, Mr. Quatremain."

  "Forbear!" cried a voice of thunder near them--and all turning at thecry, they beheld Solomon Eagle, with his brazier on his head, issue frombehind the stalls. "Forbear!" cried the enthusiast, placing himselfbetween the earl and Amabel, both of whom recoiled at his approach."Heaven's altar must not be profaned with these mockeries! And you,Thomas Quatremain, who have taken part in this unrighteous transaction,make clean your breast, and purge yourself quickly of your sins, foryour hours are numbered. I read in your livid looks and red and burningeyeballs that you are smitten by the pestilence."

  VII.

  PAUL'S WALK.

  It will now be necessary to ascertain what took place at the grocer'shabitation subsequently to Amabel's abduction. Leonard Holt havingdeparted, Pillichody was preparing to make good his retreat, when he wasprevented by Blaize, who, hearing a noise in the yard, peeped cautiouslyout at the back-door, and inquired who was there?

  "Are you Mr. Bloundel?" rejoined Pillichody, bethinking him of a plan toturn the tables upon the apprentice.

  "No, I am his porter," replied the other.

  "What, Blaize!" replied Pillichody. "Thunder and lightning! don't youremember Bernard Boutefeu, the watchman?"

  "I don't remember any watchman of that name, and I cannot discern yourfeatures," rejoined Blaize. "But your voice sounds familiar to me. Whatare you doing there?"

  "I have been trying to prevent Leonard Holt from carrying off yourmaster's daughter, the fair Mistress Amabel," answered Pillichody. "Buthe has accomplished his villanous purpose in spite of me."

  "The devil he has!" cried Blaize. "Here is a pretty piece of news for mymaster. But how did you discover him?"

  "Chancing to pass along the entry on the other side of that wall about aquarter of an hour ago," returned Pillichody, "I perceived a rope-ladderfastened to it, and wishing to ascertain what was the matter, I mountedit, and had scarcely got over into the yard, when I saw two personsadvancing. I concealed myself beneath the shadow of the wall, and theydid not notice me; but I gathered from their discourse who they were andwhat was their design. I allowed Amabel to ascend, but just as theapprentice was following, I laid hold of
the skirt of his doublet, and,pulling him back, desired him to come with me to his master. He answeredby drawing his sword, and would have stabbed me, but I closed with him,and should have secured him if my foot had not slipped. While I was onthe ground, he dealt me a severe blow, and ran after his mistress."

  "Just like him," replied Blaize. "He took the same cowardly advantage ofme last night."

  "No punishment will be too severe for him," rejoined Pillichody, "and Ihope your master will make a terrible example of him."

  "How fortunate I was not gone to bed!" exclaimed Blaize, "I had justtaken a couple of rufuses, and was about to put on my nightcap, when,hearing a noise without, and being ever on the alert to defend mymaster's property, even at the hazard of my life, I stepped forth andfound you."

  "I will bear testimony to your vigilance and courage," returnedPillichody; "but you had better go and alarm your master, I will waithere."

  "Instantly I-instantly!" cried Blaize, rushing upstairs.

  On the way to Mr. Bloundel's chamber, he met Patience, and told her whathe had heard. She was inclined to put a very different construction onthe story; but as she bore the apprentice no particular good-will, shedetermined to keep her opinion to herself, and let affairs take theircourse. The grocer was soon aroused, and scarcely able to credit theporter's intelligence, and yet fearing something must be wrong, hehastily attired himself, and proceeded to Amabel's room. It was empty,and it was evident from the state in which everything was left, that shehad never retired to rest. Confounded by the sight, Bloundel thenhurried downstairs in search of the apprentice, but he was nowhere to befound. By this time, Mrs. Bloundel had joined him, and on hearingBlaize's story, utterly scouted it.

  "It cannot be," she cried. "Leonard could have no motive for actingthus. He had our consent to the union, and the sole obstacle to it wasAmabel herself. Is it likely he would run away with her?"

  "I am sure I do not know," replied Patience, "but he was desperately inlove, that's certain; and when people are in love, I am told they dovery strange and unaccountable things. Perhaps he may have carried heroff against her will."

  "Very likely," rejoined Blaize. "I thought I heard a scream, and shouldhave called out at the moment, but a rufus stuck in my throat andprevented me."

  "Where is the person who says he intercepted them?" asked Bloundel.

  "In the yard," answered Blaize.

  "Bid him come hither," rejoined his master. "Stay, I will go to himmyself."

  With this, the whole party, including old Josyna and Stephen--the twoboys and little Christiana not having been disturbed--proceeded to theyard, where they found Pillichody in his watchman's dress, who relatedhis story more circumstantially than before.

  "I don't believe a word of it," cried Mrs. Bloundel; "and I will stakemy life it is one of the Earl of Rochester's tricks."

  "Were I assured that such was the case," said the grocer, in a sternwhisper to his wife, "I would stir no further in the matter. My threatto Amabel was not an idle one."

  "I may be mistaken," returned Mrs. Bloundel, almost at her wit's endwith anxiety. "Don't mind what I say. Judge for yourself. Oh dear! what_will_ become of her?" she mentally ejaculated.

  "Lanterns and links!" cried Pillichody. "Do you mean to impeach myveracity, good mistress? I am an old soldier, and as tenacious of myhonour as your husband is of his credit."

  "This blustering will not serve your turn, fellow," observed the grocer,seizing him by the collar. "I begin to suspect my wife is in the right,and will at all events detain you."

  "Detain me! on what ground?" asked Pillichody.

  "As an accomplice in my daughter's abduction," replied Bloundel. "Here,Blaize--Stephen, hold him while I call the watch. This is a mostmysterious affair, but I will soon get at the bottom of it."

  By the grocer's directions, Pillichody, who very quietly entered thehouse, and surrendered his halberd to Blaize, was taken to the kitchen.Bloundel then set forth, leaving Stephen on guard at the yard door,while his wife remained in the shop, awaiting his return.

  On reaching the kitchen with the prisoner, Blaize besought his mother,who, as well as Patience, had accompanied him thither, to fetch a bottleof sack. While she went for the wine, and the porter was stalking to andfro before the door with the halberd on his shoulder, Patience whisperedto Pillichody, "I know who you are. You came here last night with theEarl of Rochester in the disguise of a quack doctor."

  "Hush!" cried Pillichody, placing his finger on his lips.

  "I am not going to betray you," returned Patience, in the same tone."But you are sure to be found out, and had better beat a retreat beforeMr. Bloundel returns."

  "I won't lose a moment," replied Pillichody, starting to his feet.

  "What's the matter?" cried Blaize, suddenly halting.

  "I only got up to see whether the wine was coming," replied Pillichody.

  "Yes, here it is," replied Blaize, as his mother reappeared; "and nowyou shall have a glass of such sack as you never yet tasted."

  And pouring out a bumper, he offered it to Pillichody. The latter tookthe glass; but his hand shook so violently that he could not raise it tohis lips.

  "What ails you, friend?" inquired Blaize, uneasily.

  "I don't know," replied Pillichody; "but I feel extremely unwell."

  "He looks to me as if he had got the plague," observed Patience, toBlaize.

  "The plague!" exclaimed the latter, letting fall the glass, whichshivered to pieces on the stone floor. "And I have touched him. Where isthe vinegar-bottle? I must sprinkle myself directly, and rub myself fromhead to foot with oil of hartshorn and spirits of sulphur. Mother! dearmother! you have taken away my medicine-chest. If you love me, go andfetch me a little conserve of Roman wormwood and mithridate. You willfind them in two small jars."

  "Oh yes, do," cried Patience; "or he may die with fright."

  Moved by their joint entreaties, old Josyna again departed; and her backwas no sooner turned, than Patience said in an undertone toPillichody,--"Now is your time. You have not a moment to lose."

  Instantly taking the hint, the other uttered a loud cry, and springingup, caught at Blaize, who instantly dropped the halberd, and fled intoone corner of the room.

  Pillichody then hurried upstairs, while Blaize shouted after him, "Don'ttouch him, Master Stephen. He has got the plague! he has got theplague!"

  Alarmed by this outcry, Stephen suffered Pillichody to pass; and thelatter, darting across the yard, mounted the rope-ladder, and quicklydisappeared. A few minutes afterwards, Bloundel returned with the watch,and was greatly enraged when he found that the prisoner had got off. Nolonger doubting that he had been robbed of his daughter by the Earl ofRochester, he could not make up his mind to abandon her to her fate, andhis conflicting feelings occasioned him a night of indescribableanxiety. The party of watch whom he had summoned searched the street forhim, and endeavoured to trace out the fugitives,--but without success;and they returned before daybreak to report their failure.

  About six o'clock, Mr. Bloundel, unable to restrain himself longer,sallied forth with Blaize in search of his daughter and Leonard.Uncertain where to bend his steps, he trusted to chance to direct him,resolved, if he were unsuccessful, to lay a petition for redress beforethe throne. Proceeding along Cheapside, he entered Paternoster-row, andtraversed it till he came to Paul's Alley,--a narrow passage leading tothe north-west corner of the cathedral. Prompted by an unaccountableimpulse, he no sooner caught sight of the reverend structure, than hehastened, towards it, and knocked against the great northern door.

  We shall, however, precede him, and return to the party at the altar.The awful warning of Solomon Eagle so alarmed Quatremain, that he letfall his prayer-book, and after gazing vacantly round for a few moments,staggered to one of the stalls, where, feeling a burning pain in hisbreast, he tore open his doublet, and found that the enthusiast hadspoken the truth, and that he was really attacked by the pestilence. Asto Amabel, on hearing the terrible denunciation, she uttered
a loud cry,and would have fallen to the ground but for the timely assistance of theapprentice, who caught her with one arm, while with the other hedefended himself against the earl and his companions.

  But, in spite of his resistance, they would have soon compelled him torelinquish his charge, if Solomon Eagle, who had hitherto contentedhimself with gazing sternly on what was passing, had not interfered;and, rushing towards the combatants, seized Rochester and Etherege, andhurled them backwards with almost supernatural force. When they arose,and menaced him with their swords, he laughed loudly and contemptuously,crying, "Advance, if ye dare! and try your strength against one armed byHeaven, and ye will find how far it will avail."

  At this juncture, Leonard Holt heard a musical voice behind him, andturning, beheld Nizza Macascree. She beckoned him to follow her; and,raising Amabel in his arms, he ran towards the door leading to SaintFaith's, through which his conductress passed. All this was the work ofa moment, and when Rochester and Etherege, who rushed after him, triedthe door, they found it fastened withinside.

  Just then, a loud knocking was heard at the northern entrance of thecathedral, and a verger answering the summons, Mr. Bloundel and Blaizewere admitted. On beholding the newcomers, Rochester and his companionswere filled with confusion. Equally astonished at the recounter, thegrocer grasped his staff, and rushing up to the earl, demanded, in avoice that made the other, despite his natural audacity, quail--"Whereis my child, my lord? What have you done with her?"

  "I know nothing about her," replied Rochester, with affectedcarelessness.--"Yes, I am wrong," he added, as if recollecting himself;"I am told she has run away with your apprentice."

  Pillichody, who had changed his attire since his escape from thegrocer's dwelling, thought he might now venture to address him withoutfear of discovery, and, setting his arms a-kimbo, and assuming aswaggering demeanour, strutted forward and said, "Your daughter has justbeen wedded to Leonard Holt, Mr. Bloundel."

  "It is false," cried Bloundel, "as false as the character you justpersonated, for I recognise you as the knave who recently appearedbefore me as a watchman."

  "I pledge you my word as a nobleman," interposed Rochester, "that yourdaughter has just descended to Saint Faith's with your apprentice."

  "I can corroborate his lordship's assertion," said Etherege.

  "And I," added Pillichody. "By the holy apostle to whom this fane isdedicated! it is so."

  "To convince you that we speak the truth, we will go with you and assistyou to search," said Rochester.

  Attaching little credit to what he heard, and yet unwilling to lose achance of recovering his daughter, the grocer rushed to the doorindicated by his informant, but found it fastened.

  "You had better go to the main entrance," said one of the vergers; "Ihave the keys with me, and will admit you."

  "I will keep guard here till you return," said another verger

  Accompanied by Rochester and Etherege, Bloundel then proceeded to thechief door of the subterranean church. It was situated at the south ofthe cathedral, between two of the larger buttresses, and at the foot ofa flight of stone steps. On reaching it, the verger produced his keys,but they were of no avail, for the door was barred withinside. Aftermany fruitless attempts to obtain admission, they were fain to give upthe attempt.

  "Well, if we cannot get in, no one shall get out," observed the verger."The only key that opens this door is in my possession, so we have themsafe enough."

  The party then returned to the cathedral, where they found Blaize,Pillichody, and the two other vergers keeping watch at the door near thechoir. No one had come forth.

  Rochester then walked apart with his companions, while Bloundel, feelingsecure so long as he kept the earl in view, folded his arms upon hisbreast, and determined to await the result.

  By this time, the doors being opened, a great crowd was soon collectedwithin the sacred structure. Saint Paul's Churchyard, as is well known,was formerly the great mart for booksellers, who have not, even in latertimes, deserted the neighbourhood, but still congregate inPaternoster-row, Ave-Maria-lane, and the adjoining streets. At theperiod of this history they did not confine themselves to the precinctsof the cathedral, but, as has been previously intimated, fixed theirshops against the massive pillars of its nave. Besides booksellers,there were seamstresses, tobacco-merchants, vendors of fruit andprovisions, and Jews--all of whom had stalls within the cathedral, andwho were now making preparations for the business of the day. Shortlyafterwards, numbers who came for recreation and amusement made theirappearance, and before ten o'clock, Paul's Walk, as the nave was termed,was thronged, by apprentices, rufflers, porters, water-carriers,higglers, with baskets on their heads, or under their arms, fish-wives,quack-doctors, cutpurses, bonarobas, merchants, lawyers, andserving-men, who came to be hired, and who stationed themselves near anoaken block attached to one of the pillars, and which was denominated,from the use it was put to, the "serving-man's log." Some of the crowdwere smoking, some laughing, others gathering round a ballad-singer, whowas chanting one of Rochester's own licentious ditties; some were buyingquack medicines and remedies for the plague, the virtues of which thevendor loudly extolled; while others were paying court to the dames,many of whom were masked. Everything seemed to be going forward withinthis sacred place, except devotion. Here, a man, mounted on the carvedmarble of a monument, bellowed forth the news of the Dutch war, whileanother, not far from him, on a bench, announced in lugubrious accentsthe number of those who had died on the previous day of the pestilence.There, at the very font, was a usurer paying over a sum of money to agallant--it was Sir Paul Parravicin--who was sealing a bond for thricethe amount of the loan. There, a party of choristers, attended by atroop of boys, were pursuing another gallant, who had ventured into thecathedral booted and spurred, and were demanding "spur-money" of him--anexaction which they claimed as part of their perquisites.

  An admirable picture of this curious scene has been given by BishopEarle, in his _Microcosmographia_, published in 1629. "Paul's Walk," hewrites, "is the land's epitome, or you may call it the lesser isle ofGreat Britain. It is more than this--it is the whole world's map, whichyou may here discern in its perfectest motion, jostling and turning. Itis a heap of stones and men, with a vast confusion of languages; andwere the steeple not sanctified, nothing could be liker Babel. The noisein it is like that of bees, a strange humming, or buzzing, mixed ofwalking, tongues, and feet: it is a kind of still roar, or loud whisper.It is the great exchange of all discourse, and no business whatsoever,but is here stirring and afoot. It is the synod of all parts politic,jointed and laid together in most serious posture, and they are not halfso busy at the Parliament. It is the market of young lecturers, whom youmay cheapen here at all rates and sizes. It is the general mint of allfamous lies, which are here, like the legends of Popery, first coinedand stamped in the church. All inventions are emptied here, and not afew pockets. The best sign of the Temple in it is that it is thethieves' sanctuary, who rob more safely in a crowd than a wilderness,while every pillar is a bush to hide them. It is the other expense ofthe day, after plays and taverns; and men have still some oaths to swearhere. The visitants are all men without exceptions; but the principalinhabitants are stale knights and captains out of service, men of longrapiers and short purses, who after all turn merchants here, and trafficfor news. Some make it a preface to their dinner, and travel for anappetite; but thirstier men make it their ordinary, and board here verycheap. Of all such places it is least haunted by hobgoblins, for if aghost would walk here, he could not."

  Decker, moreover, terms Paul's Walk, or the "Mediterranean Isle," in his"Gull's Hornbook"--"the only gallery wherein the pictures of all yourtrue fashionate and complimental gulls are, and ought to be, hung up."After giving circumstantial directions for the manner of entering thewalk, he proceeds thus: "Bend your course directly in the middle linethat the whole body of the church may appear to be yours, where in viewof all, you may publish your suit in what manner you affect most, eitherwith
the slide of your cloak from the one shoulder or the other." Hethen recommends the gull, after four or five turns in the nave, tobetake himself to some of the semsters' shops the new tobacco office, orthe booksellers' stalls, "where, if you cannot read, exercise yoursmoke, and inquire who has written against the divine weed." Such, orsomething like it, was Paul's Walk at the period of this history.

  The grocer, who had not quitted his post, remained a silent andsorrowful spectator of the scene. Despite his anxiety, he could not helpmoralizing upon it, and it furnished him with abundant food forreflection. As to Rochester and his companions, they mingled with thecrowd--though the earl kept a wary eye on the door--chatted with theprettiest damsels--listened to the newsmongers, and broke their fast atthe stall of a vendor of provisions, who supplied them with tolerableviands, and a bottle of excellent Rhenish. Blaize was soon drawn away byone of the quacks, and, in spite of his master's angry looks, he couldnot help purchasing one of the infallible antidotes offered for sale bythe charlatan. Parravicin had no sooner finished his business with theusurer than he strolled along the nave, and was equally surprised anddelighted at meeting with his friends, who briefly explained to him whythey were there.

  "And how do you expect the adventure to terminate?" asked Parravicin,laughing heartily at the recital.

  "Heaven knows," replied the earl. "But what are you doing here?"

  "I came partly to replenish my purse, for I have had a run of ill luckof late," replied the knight; "and partly to see a most beautifulcreature, whom I accidentally discovered here yesterday."

  "A new beauty!" cried Rochester. "Who is she?"

  "Before I tell you, you must engage not to interfere with me," repliedParravicin. "I have marked her for my own."

  "Agreed," replied Rochester. "Now, her name?"

  "She is the daughter of a blind piper, who haunts the cathedral,"replied Parravicin, "and her name is Nizza Macascree. Is it notcharming? But you shall see her."

  "We must not go too far from the door of Saint Faith's," rejoinedRochester. "Can you not contrive to bring her hither?"

  "That is more easily said than done," replied Parravicin. "She is as coyas the grocer's daughter. However, I will try to oblige you."

  With this, he quitted his companions, and returning shortly afterwards,said, "My mistress has likewise disappeared. I found the old piperseated at the entrance of Bishop Kempe's chapel, attended by hisdog--but he missed his daughter when he awoke in the morning, and is ingreat trouble about her."

  "Strange!" cried Etherege; "I begin to think the place is enchanted."

  "It would seem so, indeed," replied Rochester.

  While they were thus conversing, Pillichody, who was leaning against acolumn, with his eye fixed upon the door leading to Saint Faith's,observed it open, and the apprentice issue from it accompanied by twomasked females. All three attempted to dart across the transept and gainthe northern entrance, but they were Intercepted. Mr. Bloundel caughthold of Leonard's arm, and Rochester seized her whom he judged by thegarb to be Amabel, while Parravicin, recognising Nizza Macascree, as hethought, by her dress, detained her.

  "What is the meaning of all this, Leonard?" demanded the grocer,angrily.

  "You shall have an explanation instantly," replied the apprentice; "butthink not of me--think only of your daughter."

  "My father!--my father!" cried the damsel, who had been detained byParravicin, taking off her mask, and rushing towards the grocer.

  "Who then have I got?" cried Rochester.

  "The piper's daughter, I'll be sworn," replied Etherege.

  "You are right," replied Nizza, unmasking. "I changed dresses withAmabel, and hoped by so doing to accomplish her escape, but we have beenbaffled. However, as her father is here, it is of little consequence."

  "Amabel," said the grocer, repulsing her, "before I receive you again, Imust be assured that you have not been alone with the Earl ofRochester."

  "She has not, sir," replied the apprentice. "Visit your displeasure onmy head. I carried her off and would have wedded her."

  "What motive had you for this strange conduct?" asked Bloundel,incredulously.

  Before Leonard could answer, Pillichody stepped forward, and said to thegrocer, "Mr. Bloundel, you are deceived--on the faith of a soldier youare."

  "Peace, fool!" said Rochester, "I will not be outdone in generosity byan apprentice. Leonard Holt speaks the truth."

  "If so," replied Bloundel, "he shall never enter my house again. Sendfor your indentures to-night," he continued sharply, to Leonard, "butnever venture to approach me more."

  "Father, you are mistaken," cried Amabel. "Leonard Holt is not to blame.I alone deserve your displeasure."

  "Be silent!" whispered the apprentice; "you destroy yourself. I care notwhat happens to me, provided you escape the earl."

  "Come home, mistress," cried the grocer, dragging her through the crowdwhich had gathered round them.

  "Here is a pretty conclusion to the adventure!" cried Parravicin; "butwhere is the apprentice--and where is the pretty Nizza Macascree? 'Foreheaven," he added, as he looked around for them in vain, "I should notwonder if they have eloped together."

  "Nor I," replied Rochester. "I admire the youth's spirit, and trust hemay be more fortunate with his second mistress than with his first."

  "It shall be my business to prevent that," rejoined Parravicin. "Help meto search for her."

  * * * * *

  VIII.

  THE AMULET.

  As the grocer disappeared with his daughter, Nizza Macascree, who hadanxiously watched the apprentice, observed him turn deadly pale, andstagger; and instantly springing to his side, she supported him to aneighbouring column, against which he leaned till he had in some degreerecovered from the shock. He then accompanied her to Bishop Kempe'sbeautiful chapel in the northern aisle, where she expected to find herfather; but it was empty.

  "He will be back presently," said Nizza. "He is no doubt making therounds of the cathedral. Bell will take care of him. Sit down on thatbench while I procure you some refreshment. You appear much in need ofit."

  And without waiting for a reply, she ran off, and presently afterwardsreturned with a small loaf of bread and a bottle of beer.

  "I cannot eat," said Leonard, faintly. But seeing that his kind providerlooked greatly disappointed, he swallowed a few mouthfuls, and raisedthe bottle to his lips. As he did so, a sudden feeling of sicknessseized him, and he set it down untasted.

  "What ails you?" asked Nizza, noticing his altered looks withuneasiness.

  "I know not," he replied. "I have never felt so ill before."

  "I thought you were suffering from agitation," she rejoined, as afearful foreboding crossed her.

  "I shall be speedily released from further trouble," replied theapprentice. "I am sure I am attacked by the plague."

  "Oh! say not so!" she rejoined. "You may be mistaken."

  But though she tried to persuade herself she spoke the truth, her heartcould not be deceived.

  "I scarcely desire to live," replied the apprentice, in a melancholytone, "for life has lost all charms for me. But do not remain here, oryou may be infected by the distemper."

  "I will never leave you," she hastily rejoined; "that is," she added,checking herself, "till I have placed you in charge of some one who willwatch over you."

  "No one will watch over me," returned Leonard. "My master has dismissedme from his service, and I have no other friend left. If you will tellone of the vergers what is the matter with me, he will summon theExaminer of Health, who will bring a litter to convey me to thepest-house."

  "If you go thither your fate is sealed," replied Nizza.

  "I have said I do not desire to live," returned the apprentice.

  "Do not indulge in these gloomy thoughts, or you are certain to bringabout a fatal result," said Nizza. "Would I knew how to aid you! But Istill hope you are deceived as to the nature of your attack."

  "I cannot be deceived," r
eplied Leonard, whose countenance proclaimedthe anguish he endured. "Doctor Hodges, I think, is interested aboutme," he continued, describing the physician's residence--"if you willinform him of my seizure, he may, perhaps, come to me."

  "I will fly to him instantly," replied Nizza; and she was about to quitthe chapel, when she was stopped by Parravicin and his companions.

  "Let me pass," she said, trying to force her way through them.

  "Not so fast, fair Nizza," rejoined Parravicin, forcing her back, "Imust have a few words with you. Have I overrated her charms?" he addedto Rochester. "Is she not surpassingly beautiful?"

  "In good sooth she is," replied the earl, gazing at her with admiration.

  "By the nut-brown skin of Cleopatra!" cried Pillichody, "she beats Mrs.Disbrowe, Sir Paul."

  "I have never seen any one so lovely," said the knight, attempting topress her hand to his lips.

  "Release me, sir," cried Nizza, struggling to free herself.

  "Not till I have told you how much I love you," returned the knight,ardently.

  "Love me!" she echoed, scornfully.

  "Yes, love you," reiterated Parravicin. "It would be strange if I, whoprofess myself so great an admirer of beauty, did otherwise. I ampassionately enamoured of you. If you will accompany me, fair Nizza, youshall change your humble garb for the richest attire that gold canpurchase, shall dwell in a magnificent mansion, and have troops ofservants at your command. In short, my whole fortune, together withmyself, shall be placed at your disposal."

  "Do not listen to him, Nizza," cried Leonard Holt, in a faint voice.

  "Be assured I will not," she answered. "Your insulting proposal onlyheightens the disgust I at first conceived for you," she added to theknight: "I reject it with scorn, and command you to let me pass."

  "Nay, if you put on these airs, sweetheart," replied Parravicin,insolently, "I must alter my tone likewise. I am not accustomed to playthe humble suitor to persons of your condition."

  "Perhaps not," replied Nizza; "neither am I accustomed to thisunwarrantable usage. Let me go. My errand is one of life and death. Donot hinder me, or you will have a heavy crime on your soul--heavier, itmay be, than any that now loads it."

  "Where are you going?" asked Parravicin, struck by her earnest manner.

  "To fetch assistance," she replied, "for one suddenly assailed by thepestilence."

  "Ah!" exclaimed the knight, trembling, and relinquishing his grasp. "Mypath is ever crossed by that hideous spectre. Is it your father who isthus attacked?"

  "No," she replied, pointing to Leonard, "it is that youth."

  "The apprentice!" exclaimed Rochester. "I am sorry for him. Let us begone," he added to his companions. "It may be dangerous to remain herelonger."

  With this they all departed except Parravicin.

  "Come with us, Nizza," said the latter; "we will send assistance to thesufferer."

  "I have already told you my determination," she rejoined; "I will notstir a footstep with you. And if you have any compassion in your nature,you will not detain me longer."

  "I will not leave you here to certain destruction," said the knight."You shall come with me whether you will or not."

  And as he spoke, he advanced towards her, while she retreated towardsLeonard, who, rising with difficulty, placed himself between her and herpersecutor.

  "If you advance another footstep," cried the apprentice, "I will flingmyself upon you, and the contact may be fatal."

  Parravicin gazed, furiously at him, and half unsheathed his sword. Butthe next moment he returned it to the scabbard, and exclaiming, "Anothertime! another time!" darted after his companions.

  He was scarcely gone, when Leonard reeled against the wall, and beforeNizza could catch him, fell in a state of insensibility on the floor.

  After vainly attempting to raise him, Nizza flew for assistance, and hadjust passed through the door of the chapel, when she met Judith Malmaynsand Chowles. She instantly stopped them, and acquainting them with theapprentice's condition, implored them to take charge of him while shewent in search of Doctor Hodges.

  "Before you go," said Judith, "let me make sure that he is attacked bythe plague. It may be some other disorder."

  "I hope so, indeed," said Nizza, pausing; "but I fear the contrary."

  So saying, she returned with them to the chapel. Raising the apprenticewith the greatest ease, Judith tore open his doublet.

  "Your suspicion is correct," she said, with a malignant smile. "Here isthe fatal sign upon his breast."

  "I will fetch Doctor Hodges instantly," cried Nizza.

  "Do so," replied Judith; "we will convey him to the vaults in SaintFaith's, where poor Mr. Quatremain has just been taken. He will bebetter there than in the pest-house."

  "Anything is better than that," said Nizza, shuddering.

  As soon as she was gone, Chowles took off his long black cloak, and,throwing it over the apprentice, laid him at full length upon the bench,and, assisted by Judith, carried him towards the choir. As theyproceeded, Chowles called out, "Make way for one sick of the plague!"and the crowd instantly divided, and gave them free passage. In this waythey descended to Saint Faith's, and, shaping their course to the vault,deposited their burden on the very bed lately occupied by theunfortunate sexton.

  "He has come here to die," observed Judith to her companion. "His attackis but a slight one, and he might with care recover. But I can bargainwith the Earl of Rochester for his removal."

  "Take heed how you make such a proposal to his lordship," returnedChowles. "From what I have seen, he is likely to revolt at it."

  "Every man is glad to get rid of a rival," rejoined Judith.

  "Granted," replied Chowles; "but no man will _pay_ for the riddance whenthe plague will accomplish it for him for nothing."

  "With due attention, I would answer for that youth's recovery," saidJudith. "It is not an incurable case, like Mr. Quatremain's. And soDoctor Hodges, when he comes, will pronounce it."

  Shortly after this, Nizza Macaseree appeared with a countenance fraughtwith anxiety, and informed them that Doctor Hodges was from home, andwould not probably return till late at night.

  "That's unfortunate," said Judith. "Luckily, however, there are otherdoctors in London, and some who understand the treatment of the plaguefar better than he does--Sibbald, the apothecary of Clerkenwell, forinstance."

  "Do you think Sibbald would attend him?" asked Nizza, eagerly.

  "To be sure he would," replied Mrs. Malmayns, "if he were paid for it.But you seem greatly interested about this youth. I have been young, andknow what effect good looks and a manly deportment have upon our sex. Hehas won your heart! Ha! ha! You need not seek to disguise it. Yourblushes answer for you."

  "A truce to this," cried Nizza, whose cheeks glowed with shame andanger.

  "You can answer a plain question, I suppose," returned Judith. "Is hislife dear to you?"

  "Dearer than my own?" replied Nizza.

  "I thought as much," returned Judith. "What will you give me to savehim?"

  "I have nothing," rejoined Nizza, with a troubled look--"nothing butthanks to give you."

  "Think again," said Judith. "Girls like you, if they have no money, havegenerally some trinket--some valuable in their possession."

  "That is not my case," said Nizza, bursting into tears. "I neverreceived a present in my life, and never desired one till now."

  "But your father must have some money?" said Judith, inquisitively.

  "I know not," replied Nizza, "but I will ask him. What sum will contentyou?"

  "Bring all you can," returned Judith, "and I will do my best."

  Nizza then departed, while Judith, with the assistance of Chowles,covered Leonard with blankets, and proceeded to light a fire. Longbefore this, the sick youth was restored to animation. But he was quitelight-headed and unconscious of his situation, and rambled about Amabeland her father. After administering such remedies as she thought fit,and as were at hand, Judith sat down with the coffin
-maker beside asmall table, and entered into conversation with him.

  "Well," said Chowles, in an indifferent tone, as he poured out a glassof brandy, "is it to be kill or cure?"

  "I have not decided," replied Judith, pledging him.

  "I still do not see what gain there would be in shortening his career,"observed Chowles.

  "If there would be no gain, there would be gratification," repliedJudith. "He has offended me."

  "If that is the case, I have nothing further to say," returned Chowles."But you promised the piper's daughter to save him."

  "We shall see what she offers," rejoined Judith; "all will depend uponthat."

  "It is extraordinary," observed Chowles, after a pause, "that while allaround us are sick or dying of the pestilence, we should escapecontagion."

  "We are not afraid of it," replied Judith. "Besides, we are part of theplague ourselves. But I _have_ been attacked, and am, therefore, safe."

  "True," replied Chowles; "I had forgotten that. Well, if I fall ill, youSha'n't nurse me."

  "You won't be able to help yourself then," returned Judith.

  "Eh!" exclaimed Chowles, shifting uneasily on his seat.

  "Don't be afraid," returned Judith, laughing at his alarm. "I'll takeevery care of you. We are necessary to each other."

  "So we are," replied Chowles; "so we are; and if nothing else could,that consideration would make us true to each other."

  "Of course," assented Judith. "Let us reap as rich a harvest as we can,and when the scourge is over, we can enjoy ourselves upon the spoils."

  "Exactly so," replied Chowles. "My business is daily-hourly on theincrease. My men are incessantly employed, and my only fear is that anorder will be issued to bury the dead without coffins."

  "Not unlikely," replied Mrs. Malmayns. "But there are plenty of ways ofgetting money in a season like this. If one fails, we must resort toanother. I shall make all I can, and in the shortest manner."

  "Right!" cried Chowles, with, an atrocious laugh. "Right! ha! ha!"

  "I have found out a means of propagating the distemper," pursued Judith,in a low tone, and with a mysterious air, "of inoculating whomsoever Iplease with the plague-venom. I have tried the experiment on Mr.Quatremain and that youth, and you see how well it has answered in bothinstances."

  "I do," replied Chowles, looking askance at her. "But why destroy thepoor minor canon?"

  "Because I want to get hold of the treasure discovered by the help ofthe Mosaical rods in Saint Faith's, which by right belonged to myhusband, and which is now in Mr. Quatremain's possession," repliedJudith.

  "I understand," nodded Chowles.

  While they were thus conversing, Nizza Macascree again returned, andinformed them that she could not find her father. "He has left thecathedral," she said, "and will not, probably, return till nightfall."

  "I am sorry for it, on your account," observed Judith, coldly.

  "Why, you will not have the cruelty to neglect the poor young man tillthen--you will take proper precautions?" exclaimed Nizza.

  "Why should I exert myself for one about whose recovery I amindifferent?" said Judith.

  "Why?" exclaimed Nizza. "But it is in vain to argue with you. I mustappeal to your avarice, since you are deaf to the pleadings of humanity.I have just bethought me that I have an old gold coin, which was givenme years ago by my father. He told me it had been my mother's, andcharged me not to part with it. I never should have done so, except inan emergency like the present."

  As she spoke, she drew from her bosom a broad gold piece. A hole wasbored through it, and it was suspended from her neck by a chain oftwisted hair.

  "Let me look at it," said Judith taking the coin. "Who gave you this?"she asked, in an altered tone.

  "My father?" replied Nizza; "I have just told you so. It was mymother's."

  "Impossible!" exclaimed Judith!

  "Have you ever seen it before?" inquired Nizza, astonished at the changein the nurse's manner.

  "I have," replied Judith, "and in very different hands."

  "You surprise me," cried Nizza. "Explain yourself, I beseech you."

  "Not now--not now," cried Judith, hastily returning the coin. "And thisis to be mine in case I cure the youth?"

  "I have said so," replied Nizza.

  "Then make yourself easy," rejoined Judith; "he shall be well again inless than two days."

  With this, she set a pan on the fire, and began to prepare a poultice,the materials for which she took from a small oaken chest in one cornerof the vault. Nizza looked on anxiously, and while they were thusemployed, a knock was heard at the door, and Chowles opening it, foundthe piper and one of the vergers.

  "Ah! is it you, father?" cried Nizza, rushing to him.

  "I am glad I have found you," returned the piper, "for I began to fearsome misfortune must have befallen you. Missing you in the morning, Itraversed the cathedral in search of you with Bell, well knowing, if youwere in the crowd, she would speedily discover you."

  His daughter then hastily recounted what had happened. When the piperheard that she had promised the piece of gold to the plague-nurse, acloud came over his open countenance.

  "You must never part with it," he said--"never. It is an amulet, and ifyou lose it, or give it away, your good luck will go with it."

  "Judith Malmayns says she has seen it before," rejoined Nizza.

  "No such thing," cried the piper hastily, "she knows nothing about it.But come with me. You must not stay here longer."

  "But, father--dear father!--I want a small sum to pay the nurse forattending this poor young man," cried Nizza.

  "I have no money," replied the piper; "and if I had, I should not throwit away in so silly a manner. Come along; I shall begin think you are inlove with the youth."

  "Then you will not be far wide of the mark," observed Judith, coarsely.

  The piper uttered an angry exclamation, and taking his daughter's hand,dragged her out of the vault.

  "You will not get your fee," laughed Chowles, as they were left alone.

  "So it appears," replied Judith, taking the pan from the fire; "there isno use in wasting a poultice."

  Shortly after this, the door of the vault again opened, and Parravicinlooked in. He held a handkerchief sprinkled with vinegar to his face,and had evidently, from the manner in which he spoke, some antidoteagainst the plague in his mouth.

  "Nizza Macascree has been here, has she not?" he asked.

  "She has just left with her father," replied Judith.

  Parravicin beckoned her to follow him, and led the way to the northaisle of Saint Faith's.

  "Is the apprentice likely to recover?" he asked.

  "Humph!" exclaimed Judith; "that depends upon circumstances. NizzaMacascree offered me a large reward to cure him."

  "Is he any connexion of hers?" asked the knight, sharply.

  "None whatever," returned Judith, with a significant smile. "But he maypossibly be so."

  "I thought as much," muttered the knight.

  "He never _shall_ recover," said Judith, halting, and speaking in a lowtone, "if you make it worth my while."

  "You read my wishes," replied Parravicin, in a sombre tone. "Take thispurse, and free me from him."

  "He will never more cross your path," replied Judith, eagerly graspingthe reward.

  "Enough!" exclaimed Parravicin. "What has passed between us must besecret."

  "As the grave which shall soon close over the victim," she rejoined.

  Parravicin shuddered, and hurried away, while Judith returned at a slowpace, and chinking the purse as she went to the vault.

  She had scarcely passed through the door, when Nizza Macascree appearedfrom behind one of the massive pillars. "This dreadful crime must beprevented," she cried--"but how? If I run to give the alarm, it may beexecuted, and no one will believe me. I will try to prevent it myself."

  Crossing the channel, she was about to enter the vault, when Chowlesstepped forth. She shrank backwards, and allowed him t
o pass, and thentrying the door, found it unfastened.

  IX.

  HOW LEONARD WAS CURED OF THE PLAGUE.

  Nizza Macascree found Judith leaning over her intended victim, andexamining the plague-spot on his breast. The nurse was so occupied byher task that she did not hear the door open, and it was not until thepiper's daughter was close beside her, that she was aware of herpresence. Hastily drawing the blankets over the apprentice, she thenturned, and regarded Nizza with a half-fearful, half-menacing look.

  "What brings you here again?" she inquired, sharply.

  "Ask your own heart, and it will tell you," rejoined Nizza, boldly. "Iam come to preserve the life of this poor youth."

  "If you think you can nurse him better than I can, you can take my placeand welcome," returned Judith, affecting not to understand her; "I haveplenty of other business to attend to, and should be glad to be releasedfrom the trouble."

  "Can she already have effected her fell purpose?" thought Nizza, gazingat the apprentice, whose perturbed features proclaimed that his slumberprocured him no rest from suffering. "No--no--she has not had time. Iaccept your offer," she added, aloud.

  "But what will your father say to this arrangement?" asked Judith.

  "When he knows my motive, he will not blame me," answered Nizza. "Here Itake my place," she continued, seating herself, "and will not quit ittill he is out of danger."

  "Your love for this youth borders upon insanity," cried Judith, angrily."You shall not destroy yourself thus."

  "Neither shall you destroy him," retorted Nizza. "It is to prevent thecommission of the crime you meditate, and for which you have been_paid_, that I am determined to remain with him."

  As she said this, a singular and frightful change took place in thenurse's appearance. A slight expression of alarm was at first visible,but it was instantly succeeded by a look so savage and vindictive, thatNizza almost repented having provoked the ire of so unscrupulous aperson. But summoning up all her resolution, she returned Judith'sglance with one as stern and steady, if not so malignant as her own. Adeep silence prevailed for a few minutes, during which each fancied shecould read the other's thoughts. In Nizza's opinion, the nurse wasrevolving some desperate expedient, and she kept on her guard, lest anattack should be made upon her life. And some such design did, inreality, cross Judith; but abandoning it as soon as formed, she resolvedto have recourse to more secret, but not less certain measures.

  "Well," she said, breaking silence, "since you are determined to haveyour own way, and catch the plague, and most likely perish from it, Ishall not try to hinder you. Do what you please, and see what will comeof it."

  And she made as if about to depart; but finding Nizza did not attempt tostop her, she halted.

  "I cannot leave you thus," she continued; "if you _will_ remain, takethis ointment," producing a small jar, "and rub the plague-spot with it.It is a sovereign remedy, and will certainly effect a cure."

  "I will not touch it," returned Nizza.

  "His death, then, be upon your head," rejoined Judith, quitting thevault, and closing the door after her.

  Greatly relieved by her departure, Nizza began to consider what sheshould do, and whether it would be possible to remove the apprentice tosome safer place. "While occupied with these reflections, the object ofher solicitude heaved a deep sigh, and opening his eyes, fixed them uponher. It was evident, however, that he did not know her, but as far ascould be gathered from his ravings, mistook her for Amabel. By degreeshe grew calmer, and the throbbing anguish of the tumour in some measuresubsiding, his faculties returned to him.

  "Where am I?" he exclaimed, pressing his hand forcibly to his brow, "andwhat is the matter with me?"

  "You are in a vault, near Saint Faith's," replied Nizza, "and--I willnot deceive you--the disorder you are labouring under is the plague."

  "The plague!" echoed Leonard, with a look of horror. "Ah! now Irecollect. I was attacked immediately after Amabel's departure with herfather. Heaven be praised! she is safe. That is some consolation amidall this misery. Could my master behold me now, he would pity me, and soperhaps would his daughter."

  "Heed her not," rejoined Nizza, in a slightly reproachful tone, "shedoes not deserve consideration. To return to yourself. You are not safehere. Judith Malmayns has been hired to take away your life. Are youable to move hence?"

  "I hope so," replied Leonard, raising himself on his arm.

  "Wrap a blanket round you, then, and follow me," said Nizza, taking upthe lamp and hastening to the door. "Ah!" she exclaimed, with a cry ofanguish--"it is locked."

  "This building is destined to be my prison, and that treacherous womanmy gaoler," groaned Leonard, sinking backwards.

  "Do not despair," cried Nizza; "I will accomplish your deliverance."

  So saying, she tried, by knocking against the door and by loud outcries,to give the alarm. But no answer was returned, and she soon becameconvinced that Judith had fastened the door of the charnel, which, itwill be remembered, lay between the vault and the body of Saint Faith's.Hence, no sound could teach the outer structure. Disturbed by what hadjust occurred. Leonard's senses again wandered; but, exerting all herpowers to tranquillize him, Nizza at last succeeded so well that he sunkinto a slumber.

  Almost regarding his situation as hopeless, she took up the lamp, andsearching the vault, found the pan containing the half-made poultice.The fire smouldered on the hearth, and replenishing it from a scantysupply in one corner, she heated the poultice and applied it to thetumour. This done, she continued her search. But though she foundseveral phials, each bearing the name of some remedy for the pestilence,her distrust of Judith would not allow her to use any of them. Resumingher seat by the couch of the sufferer, and worn out with fatigue andanxiety, she presently dropped asleep.

  She was awakened after awhile by a slight noise near her, and beheldJudith bending over the apprentice, with a pot of ointment in her hand,which she was about to apply to the part affected. The poultice hadalready been removed. Uttering a loud cry, Nizza started to her feet,and snatching the ointment from the nurse, threw it away. As soon as thelatter recovered from her surprise, she seized her assailant, and forcedher into the seat she had just quitted.

  "Stir not till I give you permission," she cried, fiercely; "I wish tocure this young man, if you will let me."

  "You intend to murder him," replied Nizza; "but while I live you shallnever accomplish your atrocious purpose. Help! help!" And she uttered aprolonged piercing scream.

  "Peace! or I will strangle you," cried Judith, compressing Nizza'sslender throat with a powerful gripe.

  And she would, in all probability, have executed her terrible threat, ifa secret door in the wall had not suddenly opened and admitted SolomonEagle. A torch supplied the place of his brazier, and he held it aloft,and threw its ruddy light upon the scene. On seeing him, Judithrelinquished her grasp, and glared at him with a mixture of defiance andapprehension; while Nizza, half dead with terror, instantly rushedtowards him, and throwing herself at his feet, besought him to save her.

  "No harm shall befall you," replied Solomon Eagle, extending his armover her. "Tell me what has happened."

  Nizza hastily explained the motive of Judith's attack upon her life. Theplague-nurse endeavoured to defend herself, and, in her turn, chargedher accuser with a like attempt. But Solomon Eagle interrupted her.

  "Be silent, false woman!" he cried, "and think not to delude me withthese idle fabrications. I fully believe that you would have taken thelife of this poor youth, and, did I not regard you as one of thenecessary agents of Heaven's vengeance, I would instantly deliver you upto justice. But the measure of your iniquities is not yet filled up.Your former crimes are not unknown to me. Neither is the last dark deed,which you imagined concealed from every human eye, hidden from me."

  "I know not what you mean," returned Judith, trembling, in spite ofherself.

  "I will tell you, then," rejoined Solomon Eagle, catching her hand, anddragging her into the furthest
corner of the vault. "Give ear to me," hecontinued, in a low voice, "and doubt, if you can, that I have witnessedwhat I relate. I saw you enter a small chamber behind the vestry, inwhich Thomas Quatremain, who once filled the place of minor canon inthis cathedral, was laid. No one was there beside yourself and the dyingman. Your first business was to search his vestments, and take away hiskeys."

  "Ha!" exclaimed Judith, starting.

  "While securing his keys," pursued Solomon Eagle, "the owner awakened,and uttered a low, but angry remonstrance. Better he had been silent.Dipping a napkin in an ewer of water that stood beside him, you held thewet cloth over his face, and did not remove it till life was extinct.All this I saw."

  "But you will not reveal it," said Judith, tremblingly.

  "I will not," replied Solomon Eagle, "for the reasons I have juststated; namely, that I look upon you as one of the scourges appointed byHeaven."

  "And so I am," rejoined Judith, with impious exultation; "it is mymission to destroy and pillage, and I will fulfil it."

  "Take heed you do not exceed it," replied Solomon Eagle. "Lift a fingeragainst either of these young persons, and I will reveal all. Yes," hecontinued, menacingly, "I will disclose such dreadful things againstyou, that you will assuredly be adjudged to a gibbet higher than thehighest tower of this proud fane."

  "I defy you, wretch!" retorted Judith. "You can prove nothing againstme."

  "Defy me?--ha!" cried Solomon Eagle, with a terrible laugh. "First," headded, dashing her backwards against the wall--"first, to prove mypower. Next," he continued, drawing from her pockets a bunch of keys,"to show that I speak the truth. These were taken from the vest of themurdered man. No one, as yet, but ourselves, knows that he is dead."

  "And who shall say which of the two is the murderer?" cried Judith."Villain! I charge you with the deed."

  "You are, indeed, well fitted for your appointed task," returned SolomonEagle, gazing at her with astonishment, "for sometimes Heaven, for itsown wise purpose, will allow the children of hell to execute itsvengeance upon earth. But think not you will always thus escape. No, youmay pursue your evil course for a while--you, and your companion incrime; but a day of retribution will arrive for both--a day when yeshall be devoured, living, by flames of fire--when all your sins shallarise before your eyes, and ye shall have no time for repentance--andwhen ye shall pass from one fierce fire to another yet fiercer, andwholly unquenchable!"

  As he concluded, he again dashed her against the wall with such violencethat she fell senseless upon the ground.

  "And now," he said, turning to Nizza Macascree, who looked on in alarmand surprise, "what can I do for you?"

  "Bear this youth to a place of safety," was her answer.

  Solomon Eagle answered by lifting up the pallet upon which Leonard waslaid, with as much ease as if it had been an infant's cradle, andcalling on Nizza to bring the torch, passed with his burden through thesecret door. Directing her to close it after them, he took his way alonea narrow stone passage, until he came to a chink in the wall commandinga small chamber, and desired her to look through it. She obeyed, andbeheld, stretched upon a couch, the corpse of a man.

  "It is Mr. Quatremain, the minor canon," she said, retiring.

  "It is," returned Solomon Eagle, "and it will be supposed that he diedof the plague. But his end was accelerated by Judith Malmayns."

  Without allowing her time for reply, he pursued his course, traversinganother long, narrow passage.

  "Where are we?" asked Nizza, as they arrived at the foot of a spiralstone staircase.

  "Beneath the central tower of the cathedral," replied Solomon Eagle. "Iwill take you to a cell known only to myself, where this youth will bein perfect safety."

  Ascending the staircase, they passed through an arched door, and enteredthe great northern ambulatory. Nizza gazed down for a moment into thenave, but all was buried in darkness, and no sound reached her to giveher an idea that any one was below. Proceeding towards the west, SolomonEagle arrived at a small recess in the wall opposite one of thebroad-arched openings looking into the nave, and entering it, pressedagainst a spring at the further extremity, and a stone door flying open,discovered a secret cell, on the floor of which his brazier was burning.Depositing his burden on the floor, he said to Nizza, "He is now safe.Go in search of proper assistance, and I will watch by him till youreturn."

  Nizza did not require a second exhortation, but quitting the cell, andnoticing its situation, swiftly descended the winding staircase, andhurrying along the northern aisle, proceeded to a small chamber beneaththe tower at its western extremity, which she knew was occupied by oneof the vergers. Speedily arousing him, she told him her errand, andimplored him to remain on the watch till she returned with DoctorHodges. The verger promised compliance; and, opening a wicket in thegreat doorway, allowed her to go forth. A few seconds brought her to thedoctor's dwelling, and though it was an hour after midnight, her summonswas promptly answered by the old porter, who conveyed her message to hismaster. Doctor Hodges had just retired to rest; but, on learning inwhose behalf his services were required, he sprang out of bed, andhastily slipped on his clothes.

  "I would not, for half I am worth, that that poor youth should perish,"he cried. "I take a great interest in him--a very great interest. Hemust not be neglected. How comes he at Saint Paul's, I wonder? But I canobtain information on that point as I go thither. No time must be lost."

  Ruminating thus, he swallowed a glass of sack, and providing himselfwith a case of instruments, and such medicines as he thought he mightrequire, he descended to Nizza. On the way to the cathedral, sheacquainted him with what had befallen Leonard during the lastfour-and-twenty hours, and the only circumstance that she kept back wasJudith's attempt on his life. This she intended to reveal at a morefitting opportunity. The doctor expressed somewhat emphatically hisdisapproval of the conduct of Mr. Bloundel, but promised to set all torights without loss of time.

  "The only difficulty I foresee," he observed, "is that the poor youth isattacked by the pestilence; and though I may succeed in curing him, hismaster will probably have shut up his house before I can accomplish myobject, in which case, all chance of his union with Amabel will be at anend."

  "So much the better," rejoined Nizza, sharply; "she does not deservehim."

  "There I agree with you," returned Hodges. "But could you point out anyone who does?" he added, with a slight but significant laugh.

  No answer was returned; and as they had just reached the portico of thecathedral, they entered the sacred structure in silence.

  As they ascended the winding stairs, loud outcries resounded along theambulatory, and echoed by the vaulted roof of the nave, convinced themthat the sufferer was again in a state of frenzy, produced by fever andthe anguish of his sore; and on reaching the cell they found himstruggling violently with Solomon Eagle, who held him down by mainforce.

  "He is in a fearfully excited state, truly," observed Hodges, as he drewnear, "and must not be left for a moment, or he will do himself amischief. I must give him a draught to allay the fever, and compose hisnerves--for in this state I dare not have recourse to the lancet."

  With this he dressed the tumour; and pouring the contents of a largephial which he had brought with him in a cup, he held it to the burninglips of the apprentice, who eagerly quaffed it. It was soon apparentthat the dose produced a salutary effect, and a second was administered.Still the sufferer, though calmer, continued to ramble asbefore--complained that his veins were filled with moltenlead--entreated them to plunge him in a stream, so that he might coolhis intolerable thirst, and appeared to be in great agony. Doctor Hodgeswatched by him till daybreak, at which time he sank into a slumber; andSolomon Eagle, who had never till then relinquished his hold of him, nowventured to resign his post. The doctor was then about to depart; but atthe urgent solicitation of Nizza, who had stationed herself at the doorof the cell, he agreed to remain a little longer.

  Two hours after this, the doors of the cathedral were open
ed, and alarge crowd soon assembled within the nave, as on the preceding day. Thetumult of voices reached the cell and awakened the sleeper. Before hecould be prevented he started from his bed, and dashing aside the feebleopposition offered by Nizza and the doctor, ran along the ambulatory,uttering a loud and fearful cry. Finding the door of the windingstaircase open, he darted through it, and in a few seconds reappeared inthe aisle. Hearing the cries, several persons rushed to meet him; but onbeholding his haggard looks and strange appearance--he was merelywrapped in a blanket,--they instantly recoiled. Mean-time, DoctorHodges, who had run to one of the arched openings looking on the nave,called out to them to secure the fugitive. But all fled at his approach;and when he reached the door of the southern transept, the verger,instead of attempting to stop him, retreated with a cry of alarm. As hepassed through the outlet, one man bolder than the rest caught hold ofhim, and endeavoured to detain him. But, leaving the blanket in hishands, and without other covering than his shirt, the apprentice dashedacross the churchyard--next shaped his course down SaintBennet's-hill--then crossed Thames-street,--and finally speeding alonganother narrow thoroughfare, reached Paul's Wharf. Gazing for a momentat the current sweeping past him--it was high-tide,--he plunged headforemost into it from the high embankment, and on rising to the surface,being a strong and expert swimmer, struck out for the opposite shore.Those who beheld him were filled with amazement; but such was the alarmoccasioned by his appearance, that none ventured to interfere with him.He had not crossed more than a fourth part of the stream when DoctorHodges arrived at the wharf; but neither promises of reward nor threatscould induce any of the watermen to follow him. The humane physicianwould have sprung into a boat, but feeling he should be wholly unable tomanage it, he most reluctantly abandoned his purpose. Scarcely doubtingwhat the result of this rash attempt would be, and yet unable to tearhimself away, he lingered on the wharf till he saw Leonard reach theopposite bank, where an attempt was made by a party of persons to seizehim. But instead of quietly surrendering himself, the apprenticeinstantly leapt into the river again, and began to swim back towards thepoint whence he had started. Amazed at what he saw, the doctor orderedhis servant, who by this time had joined the group, to bring a blanket,and descending to the edge of the river, awaited the swimmer's arrival.In less than ten minutes he had reached the shore, and clambering on thebank, fell from exhaustion.

  "This is a violent effort of nature, which has accomplished more thanscience or skill could do," said Hodges, as he gazed on the body, andsaw that the pestilential tumour had wholly disappeared--"he iscompletely cured of the plague."

  And throwing the blanket over him, he ordered him to be conveyed to hisown house.

  X.

  THE PEST-HOUSE IN FINSBURY FIELDS.

  Not a word passed between the grocer and his daughter, as he took herhome from Saint Paul's. Amabel, in fact, was so overpowered byconflicting emotions that she could not speak; while her father, whocould not help reproaching himself for the harshness he had displayedtowards Leonard Holt, felt no disposition to break silence. They foundMrs. Bloundel at the shop-door, drowned in tears, and almost in a stateof distraction. On seeing them, she rushed towards her daughter, andstraining her to her bosom, gave free vent to the impulses of heraffection. Allowing the first transports of joy to subside, Mr. Bloundelbegged her to retire to her own room with Amabel, and not to leave ittill they had both regained their composure, when he wished to have someserious conversation with them.

  His request complied with, the grocer then retraced his steps to thecathedral with the intention of seeking an explanation from Leonard,and, if he saw occasion to do so, of revoking his severe mandate. Butlong before he reached the southern transept, the apprentice haddisappeared, nor could he learn what had become of him. While anxiouslypursuing his search among the crowd, and addressing inquiries to allwhom he thought likely to afford him information, he perceived a manpushing his way towards him. As this person drew near, he recognisedPillichody, and would have got out of his way had it been possible.

  "You are looking for your apprentice, I understand, Mr. Bloundel," saidthe bully, raising his hat--"if you desire, it, I will lead you to him."

  Unwilling as he was to be obliged to one whom he knew to be leagued withthe Earl of Rochester, the grocer's anxiety overcame his scruples, and,signifying his acquiescence, Pillichody shouldered his way through thecrowd, and did not stop till they reached the northern aisle, where theywere comparatively alone.

  "Your apprentice is a fortunate spark, Mr. Bloundel," he said. "Nosooner does he lose one mistress than he finds another. Your daughter isalready forgotten, and he is at this moment enjoying a tender_tete-a-tete_ in Bishop Kempe's chapel with Nizza Macascree, the blindpiper's daughter."

  "It is false, sir," replied the grocer, incredulously.

  "Unbelieving dog!" cried Pillichody, in a furious tone, and clapping hishand upon his sword, "it is fortunate for you that the disparity of ourstations prevents me from compelling you to yield me satisfaction forthe insult you have offered me. But I caution you to keep better guardupon your tongue for the future, especially when addressing one who hasearned his laurels under King Charles the Martyr."

  "I have no especial reverence for the monarch you served under," repliedBloundel; "but he would have blushed to own such a follower."

  "You may thank my generosity that I do not crop your ears, baseRoundhead," rejoined Pillichody; "but I will convince you that I speakthe truth, and if you have any shame in your composition, it will besummoned to your cheeks."

  So saying, he proceeded to Bishop Kempe's chapel, the door of which wasslightly ajar, and desired the grocer to look through the chink. Thisoccurred at the precise time that the apprentice was seized with suddenfaintness, and was leaning for support upon Nizza Macascree's shoulder.

  "You see how lovingly they are seated together," observed Pillichody,with a smile of triumph. "Bowers of Paphos! I would I were as near therich widow of Watling-street. Will you speak with him?"

  "No," replied Bloundel, turning away; "I have done with him for ever. Ihave been greatly deceived."

  "True," chuckled Pillichody, as soon as the grocer was out of hearing;"but not by your apprentice, Mr. Bloundel. I will go and informParravicin and Rochester that I have discovered the girl. The knightmust mind what he is about, or Leonard Holt will prove too much for him.Either I am greatly out, or the apprentice is already master of Nizza'sheart."

  To return to Amabel. As soon as she was alone with her mother, she threwherself on her knees before her, and, imploring her forgiveness, hastilyrelated all that had occurred.

  "But for Leonard Holt," she said, "I should have been duped into a falsemarriage with the earl, and my peace of mind would have been for everdestroyed. As it is, I shall never be easy till he is restored to myfather's favour. To have done wrong myself is reprehensible enough; butthat another should suffer for my fault is utterly inexcusable."

  "I lament that your father should be deceived," rejoined Mrs. Bloundel,"and I lament still more that Leonard Holt should be so unjustlytreated. Nevertheless, we must act with the utmost caution. I know myhusband too well to doubt for a moment that he will hesitate to fulfilhis threat. And now, my dear child," she continued, "do not the repeatedproofs you have received of this wicked nobleman's perfidy, and ofLeonard's devotion--do they not, I say, open your eyes to the truth, andshow you which of the two really loves you, and merits your regard?"

  "I will hide nothing from you, mother," replied Amabel. "In spite of hisperfidy, in spite of my conviction of his unworthiness, I still love theEarl of Rochester. Nor can I compel myself to feel any regard, strongerthan that of friendship, for Leonard Holt."

  "You distress me, sadly, child," cried Mrs. Bloundel. "What will becomeof you! I wish my husband would shut up his house. That might put an endto the difficulty. I am not half so much afraid of the plague as I am ofthe Earl of Rochester. But compose yourself, as your father desired,that when he sends for us we may be ready to meet hi
m withcheerfulness."

  Mr. Bloundel, however, did _not_ send for them. He remained in the shopall day, except at meal-times, when he said little, and appeared to belabouring under a great weight of anxiety. As Amabel took leave of himfor the night, he dismissed her with coldness; and though he bestowedhis customary blessing upon her, the look that accompanied it was notsuch as it used to be.

  On the following day things continued in the same state. The grocer wascold and inscrutable, and his wife, fearing he was meditating somesevere course against Amabel, and aware of his inflexible nature, if aresolution was once formed, shook off her habitual awe, and thusaddressed him:

  "I fear you have not forgiven our daughter. Be not too hasty in yourjudgment. However culpable she may appear, she has been as much deceivedas yourself."

  "It may be so," replied Bloundel. "Still she has acted with suchindiscretion that I can never place confidence in her again, and withoutconfidence affection is as nought. Can I say to him who may seek her inmarriage, and whom I may approve as a husband,--'Take her! she has neverdeceived me, and will never deceive you?' No. She _has_ deceived me, andwill, therefore, deceive others. I do not know the precise truth of thestory of her abduction (if such it was) by Leonard Holt, neither do Iwish to know it, because I might be compelled to act with greaterseverity than I desire towards her. But I know enough to satisfy me shehas been excessively imprudent, and has placed herself voluntarily insituations of the utmost jeopardy."

  "Not voluntarily," returned Mrs. Bloundel. "She has been lured intodifficulties by others."

  "No more!" interrupted the grocer, sternly. "If you wish to serve her,keep guard upon your tongue. If you have any preparations to make, theymust not be delayed. I shall shut up my house to-morrow."

  "Whether Leonard returns or not?" asked Mrs. Bloundel.

  "I shall wait for no one," returned her husband, peremptorily.

  They then separated, and Mrs. Bloundel hastened to her daughter toacquaint her with the result of the interview.

  In the afternoon of the same day, the grocer, who began to feelextremely uneasy about Leonard, again repaired to Saint Paul's to seewhether he could obtain any tidings of him, and learnt, to his greatdismay, from one of the vergers, that a young man, answering to thedescription of the apprentice, had been attacked by the pestilence, andhaving been taken to the vaults of Saint Faith's, had made his escapefrom his attendants, and, it was supposed, had perished. Horror-strickenby this intelligence, he descended to the subterranean church, where hemet Judith Malmayns and Chowles, who confirmed the verger's statement.

  "The poor young man, I am informed," said Chowles, "threw himself intothe Thames, and was picked up by a boat, and afterwards conveyed, in adying state, to the pest-house in Finsbury Fields, where you willprobably find him, if he is still alive."

  Mr. Bloundel heard no more. Quitting the cathedral, he hastened toFinsbury Fields, and sought out the building to which he had beendirected. It was a solitary farm-house, of considerable size, surroundedby an extensive garden, and had only been recently converted to itspresent melancholy use. Near it was a barn, also fitted up with beds forthe sick. On approaching the pest-house, Mr. Bloundel was greatly struckwith the contrast presented by its exterior to the misery he knew to bereigning within. Its situation was charming,--in the midst, as has justbeen stated, of a large and, until recently, well-cultivated garden, andseen under the influence of a bright and genial May day, the whole placelooked the picture of healthfulness and comfort. But a closer viewspeedily dispelled the illusion, and showed that it was the abode ofdisease and death. Horrid sounds saluted the ears; ghastly figures metthe eyes; and the fragrance of the flowers was overpowered by thetainted and noisome atmosphere issuing from the open doors and windows.The grocer had scarcely entered the gate when he was arrested by anappalling shriek, followed by a succession of cries so horrifying thathe felt half disposed to fly. But mustering up his resolution, andbreathing at a phial of vinegar, he advanced towards the principal door,which stood wide open, and called to one of the assistants. The man,however, was too busy to attend to him, and while waiting his leisure,he saw no fewer than three corpses carried out to an outbuilding in theyard, where they were left till they could be taken away at night forinterment.

  Sickened by the sight, and blaming himself for entering near thiscontagious spot, Mr. Bloundel was about to depart, when a youngchirurgeon stepped out to him, and, in reply to his inquiries afterLeonard, said: "Twelve persons were brought in here last night, and fivethis morning, but I do not remember any of their names. You can gothrough the rooms and search for your apprentice, if you think proper."

  Mr. Bloundel hesitated, but his humanity overcame his apprehension, andmurmuring a prayer that he might be preserved from infection, hefollowed his conductor into the house. Prepared as he was for a dreadfulspectacle, the reality far exceeded his anticipations. Along both sidesof a large room, occupying nearly the whole of the ground-floor, wererows of pallets, on which were laid the sick, many of whom were tieddown to their couches. Almost all seemed in a hopeless state, and thecadaverous hue of their countenances proclaimed that death was not faroff. Though the doors and windows were open, and the room was filledwith vapours and exhalations, arising from pans of coal and plates ofhot iron, on which drugs were burning, nothing could remove the putrid,and pestilential smell that pervaded the chamber. The thick vapoursettled on the panes of the windows, and on the roof, and fell to theground in heavy drops. Marching quickly past each bed, the grocer notedthe features of its unfortunate occupant; but though there were manyyoung men, Leonard was not among the number. His conductor then led himto an upper room, where he found the chirurgeons dressing the sores oftheir patients, most of whom uttered loud shrieks while under theirhands. Here an incident occurred which deeply affected the grocer. Apoor young woman, who had been brought to the pest-house with her childon the previous evening, had just expired, and the infant, unable toobtain its customary nourishment, uttered the most piteous cries. It wasinstantly removed by a nurse and proper food given it; but Mr. Bloundelwas informed that the plague-tokens had already appeared, and that itwould not probably live over the night. "I have no doubt," said theyoung chirurgeon, "it will be buried with its mother." And so ithappened.

  The grocer turned away to hide his emotion, and endeavoured through hisblinded gaze to discover Leonard, but, as will be anticipated, withoutsuccess. Stunned by the cries and groans that pierced his ears, andalmost stifled by the pestilential effluvia, he rushed out of the house,and gladly accepted a glass of sack offered him by his conductor, whichremoved the dreadful nausea that affected him.

  "I now remember that the two last persons brought here were taken to thebarn," observed the chirurgeon; "I will go with you thither, if youthink proper."

  The grocer assented, and the chirurgeon crossed the yard, and opened thedoor of the barn, on the floor of which upwards of twenty beds werelaid. Passing between them, Mr. Bloundel narrowly scrutinized everycountenance; but, to his great relief, recognised no one. One couchalone remained to be examined. The poor sufferer within it had drawn thecoverings over his face, and when they were removed he was found quitedead! He was a young man; and the agony he had endured in the laststruggle was shown by his collapsed frame and distorted features. It wasnot, however, Leonard; and, so far satisfied, though greatly shocked,Mr. Bloundel hurried out.

  "Thank Heaven he is not here!" he exclaimed to his conductor.

  "You have not seen the dead bodies in the outhouse," returned the other;"it is possible his may be among them."

  "I trust not," rejoined the grocer, shuddering; "but as I have gone thusfar, I will not leave my errand unaccomplished. Suffer me to look atthem."

  The chirurgeon then led the way to a spacious outbuilding, once used forcattle, in the midst of which stood a large frame supporting six bodies,covered only with a sheet. Mr. Bloundel could not overcome hisrepugnance to enter this shed; but the chirurgeon, who appearedhabituated to such scenes, and to regard th
em lightly, threw off thesheet, and raised the corpses, one by one, that he might the better viewthem. One peculiarity Mr. Bloundel noticed; namely, that the limbs ofthese unfortunate victims of the pestilence did not stiffen, as wouldhave been the case if they had died of any other disorder; while theblotches that appeared on the livid flesh made them objects almost toohorrible to look upon. In many cases the features were frightfullydistorted--the tongues of the poor wretches swollen and protruding--thehands clenched, and the toes bent towards the soles of the feet.Everything denoted the dreadful pangs that must have attendeddissolution.

  Greatly relieved to find that the whole of this ghastly group werestrangers to him, Mr. Bloundel thanked the chirurgeon, and departed.Convinced that he had been deceived by the coffin-maker, he now began tohope that the whole story was false; but he determined not to rest tillhe had thoroughly investigated the matter. Before doing so, however, hethought it advisable to return home, and accordingly shaped his coursetoward Cripplegate, and, passing through the postern, stopped at anapothecary's shop, and got his apparel fumigated and sprinkled withspirits of hartshorn and sulphur.

  On reaching Wood-street, he noticed, with some uneasiness, a number ofpersons gathered together before his dwelling. His fears were speedilyrelieved by finding that the assemblage was collected by a preacher, whowas pronouncing an exhortation to them in tones almost as loud andemphatic as those of Solomon Eagle. The preacher's appearance was veryremarkable, and attracted the attention of the grocer, who joined thecrowd to listen to him. As far as could be judged, he was a middle-agedman, with black hair floating over his shoulders, earnest features, anda grey eye of extraordinary brilliancy. His figure was slight and erect,and his gestures as impassioned as his looks. He spoke with greatrapidity; and his eloquence, combined with his fervent manner andexpression, completely entranced his audience. He was habited in acassock and bands, and had taken off his cap, which was held by anattendant, who stood near the stool on which he was mounted. The latterdiffered materially from his master. His closely-cropped hair, demurelooks, sugar-loaf hat, and suit of rusty sable, seemed to proclaim him aPuritan; but his twinkling eye--for he had but one, and wore a blackpatch over the orifice--his inflamed cheeks, and mulberry nosecontradicted the idea.

  As soon as the preacher distinguished Mr. Bloundel, he addressed hisdiscourse to him; and, alluding to his religious habits and generalexcellence of character, held him up as an example to others. The grocerwould fain have retreated; but the preacher besought him to stay, andwas proceeding in the same strain, when a sudden interruption tookplace. A slight disturbance occurring amid the crowd, the attendantattempted to check it, and in doing so received a sound buffet on theears. In endeavouring to return the blow, he struck another party, whoinstantly retaliated, and a general affray commenced--some taking oneside, some the other. In the midst of the confusion three persons forcedtheir way towards the preacher, knocked him from his stool, and,assailing him with the most opprobrious epithets, dealt him severalseemingly severe blows, and would have further maltreated him, if Mr.Bloundel had not interposed, and, pushing aside his assailants, gave himhis hand, and led him into his dwelling, the door of which he closed.Shortly afterwards, the crowd dispersing, the preacher's companionentered the shop in search of his master.

  "I hope you have sustained no injury during this tumult, reverend anddear sir?" he asked, with great apparent solicitude.

  "I am not much hurt," replied the preacher; "but I have received a blowon the head, which has stunned me. The faintness will go off presently.You were the cause of this disturbance, Bambolio."

  "I, Doctor Maplebury?" replied Bambolio. "I endeavoured to stop it. Butyour reverence looks extremely ill. I am sure, sir," he added to Mr.Bloundel, "after the high character my master gave you in his discourse,and which I am persuaded you deserve, you will extend your hospitalitytowards him."

  "Readily," replied the grocer. "Here, Blaize, assist the reverendgentleman within, and bid your mistress come down stairs immediately."

  Doctor Maplebury was then conveyed between the porter and Bambolio intothe inner room, where he sank into a chair in a complete state ofexhaustion. The next moment Mrs. Bloundel made her appearance withAmabel. The latter no sooner beheld the preacher, than she started andtrembled so violently, that she could scarcely support herself; but hermother, who only saw a fainting man, flew to his assistance, and calledto Patience to bring restoratives. These applied, Doctor Maplebury wassoon able to rouse himself sufficiently to gaze round the room, and fixhis eyes on Amabel.

  "So our old friends are here again," said Patience in a low tone toBlaize, as they left the room together.

  "Old friends! What do you mean?" rejoined the porter.

  "Why, the Earl of Rochester and Major Pillichody," replied Patience. "Iknew them at a glance, and so did Mistress Amabel. But if I hadn'tdiscovered them, the major would soon have let me into the secret by theway in which he squeezed my hand."

  "Indeed!" exclaimed Blaize, angrily. "I'll go and acquaint my masterwith the trick directly."

  "Do so," replied Patience, "and the house will be shut up to-morrow. Ouronly chance of averting that calamity is in the earl."

  XI.

  HOW THE GROCER SHUT UP HIS HOUSE.

  Placed in a warm bed, and carefully tended by the humane physician,Leonard Holt slept tranquilly for some hours, and when he awoke, thoughso weak as scarcely to be able to lift an arm, he was free from allailment. Feeling ravenously hungry, he made known his wants; and,provisions being set before him, he was allowed to eat and drink inmoderation. Greatly revived by the meal, he arose and attired himself inhabiliments provided for him by Hodges, who, finding him fully equal toconversation, questioned him as to all that had occurred prior to hisseizure.

  "You have acted nobly," observed the doctor, at the close of hisrecital; "and if Amabel had a spark of generosity in her composition,she would worthily requite you. But I do not expect it. How different isher conduct from that of the piper's pretty daughter. The latter reallyloves you; and I would advise you as a friend to turn your thoughts toher. She will make you happy: whereas the indulgence of your presenthopeless passion--for hopeless it is--can only lead to wretchedness."

  "Would I could follow your advice!" replied Leonard; "but, alas! Icannot. Amabel does not love the Earl of Rochester more blindly, moreconstantly, than I love her; and I could as soon change my nature astransfer my affection to another."

  "I am truly sorry for it," rejoined Hodges, in a tone of deep sympathy."And you still desire to return to your master?"

  "Unquestionably," replied Leonard. "If I am banished the house, I shallwander round it night and day like a ghost."

  "I will accompany you there this evening," rejoined Hodges, "and I trustI shall be able to arrange matters without compromising Amabel. I wish Icould forward your suit more efficiently; but I see no chance of it,and, to deal plainly with you, I do not think a marriage with her wouldbe for your happiness. The brilliant qualities of your noble rival atpresent so dazzle her eyes, that your own solid worth is completelyoverlooked. It will be well if her father can preserve her from ruin."

  "The earl shall die by my hand rather than he shall succeed in hisinfamous purpose," cried Leonard, fiercely.

  "No more of this!" exclaimed Hodges. "If you would have me take aninterest in you, you will never give utterance to such a sentimentagain. Amabel has another guardian, more powerful even than herfather--the plague. Ere long the earl, who has a sufficient value forhis own safety, will fly the city."

  "I hope the pestilence will number him among its victims," observedLeonard, in a sombre tone.

  At this juncture the old porter entered the room, and informed hismaster that the piper's daughter was below, and had called to inquireafter the apprentice.

  Hodges desired she might be shown upstairs, and the next moment Nizzawas ushered into the room. On beholding the improved appearance ofLeonard, she could not repress an exclamation of delight, while a deepblush suffused her
cheeks.

  "You are surprised to find him quite well," observed Hodges, with asmile. "Nay, you may approach him with safety. There is no fear ofcontagion now."

  "Having satisfied myself on that point, I will take my leave," rejoinedNizza, in some confusion.

  "Not till you have allowed me to return my thanks, I trust," saidLeonard, advancing towards her, and taking her hand. "I owe my life toyou."

  "Then pay the debt by devoting it to her," rejoined Hodges. "Excuse mefor a few minutes. I have business to attend to, but will be back againdirectly."

  Left alone together, the young couple felt so much embarrassment thatfor some minutes neither could utter a word. At length Nizza, who hadsuffered her hand to remain in that of Leonard, gently withdrew it.

  "Circumstances have given me a claim to your confidence," she faltered,"and you will not misconstrue my motive, when I ask you whether youstill retain the same affection as formerly for Amabel?"

  "Unfortunately for myself, I do," replied Leonard.

  "And unfortunately for me too," sighed Nizza. "Doctor Hodges says he canrestore you to your master's favour. You will therefore return home, andwe shall meet no more."

  "In these precarious times, those who part, though even for a few days,can feel no certainty of meeting again," rejoined Leonard. "But I hopewe shall be more fortunate."

  "You mistake me," replied Nizza. "Henceforth I shall sedulously avoidyou. Till I saw you, I was happy, and indifferent to all else, myaffections being centred in my father and in my dog. Now I am restlessand miserable. My former pursuits are abandoned, and I think only ofyou. Despise me if you will after this frank avowal. But believe that Iwould not have made it if I had not resolved to see you no more."

  "Despise you!" echoed Leonard. "On no! I shall ever feel the deepestgratitude towards you; but perhaps it is better we should meet no more."

  "And yet you throw yourself in the way of Amabel," cried Nizza. "Youhave not resolution to fly from the danger which you counsel me toshun."

  "It is too true," replied Leonard; "but she is beset by temptations fromwhich I hope to preserve her."

  "That excuse will not avail me," returned Nizza, bitterly. "You cannotlive without her. But I have said enough--more than enough," she added,correcting herself. "I must now bid you farewell--for ever. May you behappy with Amabel, and may she love you as I love you!"

  As she said this she would have rushed out of the room, if she had notbeen stopped by Doctor Hodges.

  "Whither so fast?" he inquired.

  "Oh! let me go--let me go, I implore of you!" she cried, bursting intoan agony of tears.

  "Not till you have composed yourself," rejoined the doctor. "What is thematter? But I need not ask. I wonder Leonard can be insensible to charmslike yours, coupled with such devotion. Everything seems to be at crosspurposes, and it requires some one more skilled in the affairs of theheart than an old bachelor like myself to set them right. Sit down. Ihave a few questions of importance to ask you before you depart."

  And partly by entreaty, partly by compulsion, he made her take a chair;and as soon as she was sufficiently composed to answer him, questionedher as to what she knew relating to Judith Malmayns and Chowles.

  "Mr. Quatremain, the minor canon, has died of the plague in one of thevaults of Saint Faith's," he observed; "and I more than suspect, fromthe appearance of the body, has not met with fair play."

  "Your suspicion is well founded, sir," replied Nizza. "Solomon Eagletold me that the unfortunate man's end was hastened by the plague-nurse.Nor is this her sole crime. She was hired to make away with Leonard Holtin the same manner, and would have accomplished her purpose but for theintervention of Solomon Eagle."

  "Neither she nor her partner in guilt, the coffin-maker, shall escapejustice this time," replied Hodges. "I will instantly cause her to bearrested, and I trust she will expiate her offences at Tyburn. But tochange the subject. I am sincerely interested about you, Nizza, and Iwish I could make Leonard as sensible of your merits as I am myself. Istill hope a change will take place in his feelings."

  "My heart tells me the contrary," replied Nizza. "There is no hope foreither of us. Farewell, Leonard!" and she rushed out of the room.

  Soon after this Hodges quitted the apprentice, and going before amagistrate, detailed all that had come to his knowledge concerning thecriminal practices of Judith Malmayns and Chowles. In the course of theday the accused parties were arrested, and, after a long examination,conveyed to Newgate. Solomon Eagle could not be found, neither could SirPaul Parravicin. It appeared that Mr. Quatremain's residence had beenentered on that very morning, and the box of treasure discovered inSaint Faith's abstracted. But though the strongest suspicion of therobbery attached to Chowles and Judith, it could not be brought home tothem.

  We shall now proceed to Wood-street, and ascertain what took placethere. Refreshments were placed before the supposed Doctor Maplebury bythe grocer, while his attendant was sent to the kitchen, and directionsgiven to Blaize to take every care of him; old Josyna was occupied abouther own concerns; and Pillichody, perceiving from the porter's mannerthat his disguise was detected, laid aside concealment altogether, andendeavoured to win the other over to his patron's interests.

  "If this marriage takes place," he said, "I am authorized by my noblefriend to state that he will appoint you his steward with a largesalary, and that will be a very different situation from the one youhold at present. A nobleman's steward! Think of that. You will have aretinue of servants under your control, and will live quite as well ashis lordship."

  "I have some scruples," hesitated Blaize.

  "Scruples! pshaw!" cried Pillichody. "You can have no hesitation inbenefiting yourself. If you remain here, the house will be shut up, andyou will be kept a close prisoner for months in the very heart of aninfected city, and I dare say will be buried in yonder cellar; whereas,if you go with the Earl of Rochester, you will dwell in a magnificentcountry mansion--a palace, I ought to call it--enjoy every luxury, andremain there till the plague is over."

  "That last reason decides me," replied Blaize. "But I suppose hislordship will provide himself with a medicine chest?"

  "He has already got one as large as this table," said Pillichody, "andyou shall have the key of it."

  "Enough!" exclaimed Blaise. "I am yours."

  "Pray, what am I to be?" asked Patience, who had listened to theforegoing conversation with a smile at Blaize's credulity.

  "You, sweetheart!" exclaimed Pillichody. "I will take care of you. Youshall be my housekeeper."

  "Hold!" cried Blaize. "I cannot admit that. Patience and I are engaged."

  "Since you are promoted to such an important situation, you can make abetter match," observed Patience. "I release you from the engagement."

  "I don't choose to be released," returned Blaize; "I will marry you onthe same day that the earl weds Amabel."

  "That will be to-night, or to-morrow at the latest," said Pillichody."Consent, sweetheart," he added, in a whisper to Patience; "if we canonce get you and your pretty mistress out of the house, we will leavethis simpleton fool in the lurch."

  "No, I will never consent to such a thing," returned Patience, in thesame tone.

  "What's that you are saying?" inquired Blaize, suspiciously.

  "Major Pillichody says he will marry me, if you won't," returnedPatience.

  "I have just told you I will," rejoined Blaize. "But he must notcontinue his attentions. I feel I shall be very jealous."

  "I am glad to hear it," returned Patience, bursting into a loud laugh,"for that proves you love me."

  "Well," observed Pillichody, "I won't interfere with a friend; and asthere is no knowing what may occur, it will be as well to prepareaccordingly."

  So saying, he fell to work upon the provisions loading the board, andate and drank as if determined to lay in a stock for the next two days.

  Meantime the earl made rapid progress in the good opinion both of Mr.Bloundel and his wife. Adapting his discourse pre
cisely to their views,and exerting his matchless conversational powers to their full extent,he so charmed them that they thought they could listen to him for ever.While thus engaged, he contrived ever and anon to steal a glance atAmabel, and on these occasions, his eyes were quite as eloquent andintelligible as his tongue.

  Among other topics interesting to the grocer, the persecution to whichhis daughter had been recently subjected was brought forward. Mr.Bloundel could not reprobate the earl's conduct more strongly than hisguest did; and he assailed himself with such virulence that, in spite ofher uneasiness, Amabel could not repress a smile. In short, he soaccommodated himself to the grocer's opinion, and so won upon hisregard, that the latter offered him an asylum in his house during thecontinuance of the pestilence. This was eagerly accepted, and the earl,hazarding a look at Amabel at the moment, perceived her change colourand become greatly agitated. Mrs. Bloundel also noticed her confusion,but attributing it to any other than the right cause, begged her, in alow tone, to control herself.

  At length, the opportunity for which the earl had been secretly sighingoccurred. Mr. Bloundel called his wife out of the room for a moment, andas their eldest son, Stephen, was in the shop, and the two otherchildren upstairs, Amabel was left alone with her lover. The door was nosooner closed than he sprang towards her and threw himself at her feet.

  "Shall I avail myself of your father's offer, sweetheart?" he cried."Shall I remain here with you--the happiest of prisoners--or will youonce more accompany me? This time, our marriage shall not beinterrupted."

  "Perhaps not, my lord," she replied, gravely; "but it will be a mockceremonial, like the last. Do not attempt to deceive me. I am fullyaware of your intentions, and after the awful fate of the wretchedinstrument of your purposed criminality, you will not readily getanother person to tempt in like manner the vengeance of Heaven. I havehad a severe struggle with myself. But at length I have triumphed overmy irresolution. I will not disguise from you that I love youstill,--and must ever, I fear, continue to love you. But I will not beyours on the terms you propose. Neither will I leave this house withyou, nor suffer you to remain in it, in any other than your propercharacter. On my father's return I will disclose all to him. If yourdesigns are honourable, I am sure he will no longer oppose my union withyou. If not, we part for ever."

  "Be prudent, sweet girl, I entreat of you," cried the earl imploringly."Your indiscretion will ruin all. There are a thousand reasons why yourfather should not be consulted on the matter."

  "There are none that weigh with me," she interrupted, decidedly. "I havebeen bewildered--beside myself,--but, thank Heaven, I have recoveredbefore it is too late."

  "You are beside yourself at this moment," cried Rochester, unable tocontrol his anger and mortification, "and will bitterly repent yourfolly. Neither your supplications nor my rank will have any weight withyour father, prejudiced as he is against me. Fly with me, and I swear tomake you mine, without a moment's loss of time. Will not my plightedword content you?"

  "No, my lord, you have broken it already," returned Amabel. "My fathershall know the truth."

  A dark shade passed over Rochester's countenance, and a singular andmost forbidding expression, which Amabel had once before noticed, tookpossession of it. His love for her seemed changed to hate, and shetremblingly averted her gaze. At this juncture, the door opened, and thegrocer and his wife entered the room. The former started, on seeingAmabel and the supposed preacher in such close propinquity, and apainful suspicion of the truth crossed his mind. He was not, however,kept long in suspense. Throwing off his wig, and letting his own fairringlets fall over his shoulders, the earl tore open his cassock, anddisclosed his ordinary rich attire. At the same time, his face underwentan equally striking change,--each feature resuming its originalexpression; and the grocer, though he witnessed the wholetransformation, could scarcely believe that the same individual he hadrecently beheld stood before him.

  "You now know who I am, Mr. Bloundel, and what brought me hither," saidRochester, with a haughty salutation.

  "I do, my lord," replied the grocer, "and I give you full credit foryour daring and ingenuity. After the manner in which I have been imposedupon myself, I can make allowance for others." He then turned to Amabel,and said, in a severe tone, "You are no longer my daughter."

  "Father!" she cried, rushing towards him and throwing herself at hisfeet, "do not cast me off for ever. I am not now to blame. It is owingto my determination to disclose all to you that the earl has thusrevealed himself. I might have deceived you further--might have fledwith him."

  "Forgive her! oh, forgive her!" cried Mrs. Bloundel--"or, if any illhappens to her, you will be answerable for it."

  "Is this the truth, my lord?" asked the grocer.

  Rochester bowed stiffly in acquiescence.

  "Then you are again my child," said Bloundel, raising her, and pressingher to his bosom. "What are your intentions towards her?" he continued,addressing the earl.

  "They may be readily surmised," replied Rochester, with a scornfullaugh.

  "Will you wed her, if I agree to the union," asked Bloundel, tremblingwith concentrated rage.

  Amabel looked at her lover as if her life hung on his answer.

  Rochester affected not to hear the question, but, as it was repeatedstill more peremptorily, he repeated carelessly,--"I will consider ofit."

  "Deceived! deceived!" cried Amabel, falling on her mother's neck, andbursting into tears.

  "This outrage shall not pass unpunished," cried Bloundel. And before theearl could draw his sword or offer any resistance, he threw himself uponhim, and hurling him to the ground, set his foot upon his bosom.

  "Do not kill him," shrieked Amabel, terrified by the stern expression ofher father's countenance.

  "What are you about to do?" gasped Rochester, struggling ineffectuallyto get free.

  "Bid Stephen bring a cord," cried the grocer.

  "You are not going to hang him?" inquired Mrs. Bloundel.

  "Do as I bid you," rejoined her husband, "and lose no time."

  As she was about to leave the room, the door opened, and Doctor Hodgesentered, followed by Leonard and Stephen.

  "Mercy on us! what's the matter?" cried the former, in astonishment.

  "You are just arrived in time to prevent mischief," replied Mrs.Bloundel. "Pray interfere between them. My husband will attend to you."

  "Arise, my lord," said Mr. Bloundel, removing his foot from theprostrate nobleman; "you are sufficiently punished by being found inthis disgraceful condition. Remember that your life has been at mydisposal."

  Thus liberated, Rochester sprang to his feet, and regarding the groupwith a menacing and disdainful look, walked up to Amabel, and saying toher, "You shall yet be mine," strode out of the room. He then marchedalong the passage, and called to Pillichody, who instantly answered thesummons. Accompanied by Hodges, the grocer followed them to the shop,where the bully not departing so quickly as he desired, and refusing tobe more expeditious, he kicked him into the street. This done, and thedoor fastened, he tarried only till he had received all needfulexplanations from the friendly physician, and then returning to theinner room, warmly greeted Leonard, and congratulated him on hisextraordinary recovery from the plague.

  Happiness was thus once more restored to every member of the grocer'sfamily, except Amabel, who still continued downcast and dejected, andentreated permission to retire to her own room. A cheerful evening wasthen passed by the others, and the doctor did not offer to take hisdeparture till the clock struck eleven.

  "It is the last night I shall spend here for some months," he said;"perhaps the last I shall ever spend here, and I have stayed longer thanI intended, but I did not like to abridge my enjoyment." After shakinghands cordially with the whole party, he added in an under tone, as hetook leave of Leonard, "Do not forget Nizza Macascree."

  On the following day the grocer nailed up the shutters, and locked andbarred the doors of his house.