Leonard. "But how did you procure the key of the winding staircase?"
"I fortunately observed where Judith had placed it," replied Nizza, "and
when she departed to the crypt near the charnel, with Amabel, I
possessed myself of it. For some time I was unable to use it, because
the Earl of Rochester and Sir George Etherege kept pacing to and fro in
front of the door, and their discourse convinced me that the marriage
was meant to be a feigned one, for Sir George strove to dissuade his
friend from the step he was about to take; but the other only laughed at
his scruples. As soon as they retired, which is not more than half an
hour ago, I unlocked the door, and hurried up the winding stairs. I
searched every chamber, and began to think you were gone, or that
Judith's statement was false. But I resolved to continue my search until
I was fully satisfied on this point, and accordingly ascended to the
belfry. You are aware of the result."
"You have rendered me a most important service," replied Leonard; "and I
hope hereafter to prove my gratitude. But let us now descend to the
choir, where I will conceal myself till Amabel appears. This marriage
must be prevented."
Before quitting the belfry, Leonard chanced to cast his eyes on a stout
staff left there, either by one of the bell-ringers or some chance
visitant, and seizing it as an unlooked-for prize, he ran down the
steps, followed by the piper's daughter.
On opening the lowest door, he glanced towards the choir, and there
before the high altar stood Quatremain in his surplice, with the earl
and Amabel, attended by Etherege and Pillichody. The ceremony had just
commenced. Not a moment was to be lost. Grasping his staff, the
apprentice darted along the nave, and, rushing up to the pair,
exclaimed in a loud voice, "Hold! I forbid this marriage. It must not
take place!"
"Back, sirrah!" cried Etherege, drawing his sword, and opposing the
approach 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 the
cry, they beheld Solomon Eagle, with his brazier on his head, issue from
behind the stalls. "Forbear!" cried the enthusiast, placing himself
between 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, for
your hours are numbered. I read in your livid looks and red and burning
eyeballs that you are smitten by the pestilence."
VII. PAUL'S WALK.
It will now be necessary to ascertain what took place at the grocer's
habitation subsequently to Amabel's abduction. Leonard Holt having
departed, Pillichody was preparing to make good his retreat, when he was
prevented by Blaize, who, hearing a noise in the yard, peeped cautiously
out at the back-door, and inquired who was there?
"Are you Mr. Bloundel?" rejoined Pillichody, bethinking him of a plan to
turn the tables upon the apprentice.
"No, I am his porter," replied the other.
"What, Blaize!" replied Pillichody. "Thunder and lightning! don't you
remember Bernard Boutefeu, the watchman?"
"I don't remember any watchman of that name, and I cannot discern your
features," rejoined Blaize. "But your voice sounds familiar to me. What
are you doing there?"
"I have been trying to prevent Leonard Holt from carrying off your
master's daughter, the fair Mistress Amabel," answered Pillichody. "But
he has accomplished his villanous purpose in spite of me."
"The devil he has!" cried Blaize. "Here is a pretty piece of news for my
master. But how did you discover him?"
"Chancing to pass along the entry on the other side of that wall about a
quarter of an hour ago," returned Pillichody, "I perceived a rope-ladder
fastened to it, and wishing to ascertain what was the matter, I mounted
it, and had scarcely got over into the yard, when I saw two persons
advancing. I concealed myself beneath the shadow of the wall, and they
did not notice me; but I gathered from their discourse who they were and
what was their design. I allowed Amabel to ascend, but just as the
apprentice 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 answered
by 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 on
the ground, he dealt me a severe blow, and ran after his mistress."
"Just like him," replied Blaize. "He took the same cowardly advantage of
me last night."
"No punishment will be too severe for him," rejoined Pillichody, "and I
hope your master will make a terrible example of him."
"How fortunate I was not gone to bed!" exclaimed Blaize, "I had just
taken 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 my
master's property, even at the hazard of my life, I stepped forth and
found you."
"I will bear testimony to your vigilance and courage," returned
Pillichody; "but you had better go and alarm your master, I will wait
here."
"Instantly I-instantly!" cried Blaize, rushing upstairs.
On the way to Mr. Bloundel's chamber, he met Patience, and told her what
he had heard. She was inclined to put a very different construction on
the story; but as she bore the apprentice no particular good-will, she
determined to keep her opinion to herself, and let affairs take their
course. The grocer was soon aroused, and scarcely able to credit the
porter's intelligence, and yet fearing something must be wrong, he
hastily attired himself, and proceeded to Amabel's room. It was empty,
and it was evident from the state in which everything was left, that she
had never retired to rest. Confounded by the sight, Bloundel then
hurried downstairs in search of the apprentice, but he was nowhere to be
found. By this time, Mrs. Bloundel had joined him, and on hearing
Blaize's story, utterly scouted it.
"It cannot be," she cried. "Leonard could have no motive for acting
thus. He had our consent to the union, and the sole obstacle to it was
Amabel herself. Is it likely he would run away with her?"
"I am sure I do not know," replied Patience, "but he was desperately in
love, that's certain; and when people are in love, I am told they do
very strange and unaccountable things. Perhaps he may have carried her
off against her will."
"Very likely," rejoined Blaize. "I thought I heard a scream, and should
have called out at the moment, but a rufus stuck in my throat and
prevented 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 him
myself."
With this, the whole party, including old Josyna and Stephen--the two
boys and little Christiana not having been disturbed--proceeded to the
yard, where they found Pillichody in his watchman's dress, who related
his story more circumstantially than before.
"I don't believe a word of it," cried Mrs. Bloundel; "and I will stake
my life it is one of the Earl of Rochester's tricks."
"Were I assured that such was the case," said the grocer, in a stern
whisper to his wife, "I would stir no further in the matter. My threat
to Amabel was not an idle one."
"I may be mistaken," returned Mrs. Bloundel, almost at her wit's end
with 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 my
veracity, good mistress? I am an old soldier, and as tenacious of my
honour 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 most
mysterious affair, but I will soon get at the bottom of it."
By the grocer's directions, Pillichody, who very quietly entered the
house, 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 bottle
of sack. While she went for the wine, and the porter was stalking to and
fro before the door with the halberd on his shoulder, Patience whispered
to Pillichody, "I know who you are. You came here last night with the
Earl 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 before
Mr. 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 now
you shall have a glass of such sack as you never yet tasted."
And pouring out a bumper, he offered it to Pillichody. The latter took
the glass; but his hand shook so violently that he could not raise it to
his 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, to
Blaize.
"The plague!" exclaimed the latter, letting fall the glass, which
shivered to pieces on the stone floor. "And I have touched him. Where is
the vinegar-bottle? I must sprinkle myself directly, and rub myself from
head to foot with oil of hartshorn and spirits of sulphur. Mother! dear
mother! you have taken away my medicine-chest. If you love me, go and
fetch me a little conserve of Roman wormwood and mithridate. You will
find 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 back
was no sooner turned, than Patience said in an undertone to
Pillichody,--"Now is your time. You have not a moment to lose."
Instantly taking the hint, the other uttered a loud cry, and springing
up, caught at Blaize, who instantly dropped the halberd, and fled into
one corner of the room.
Pillichody then hurried upstairs, while Blaize shouted after him, "Don't
touch him, Master Stephen. He has got the plague! he has got the
plague!"
Alarmed by this outcry, Stephen suffered Pillichody to pass; and the
latter, darting across the yard, mounted the rope-ladder, and quickly
disappeared. A few minutes afterwards, Bloundel returned with the watch,
and was greatly enraged when he found that the prisoner had got off. No
longer doubting that he had been robbed of his daughter by the Earl of
Rochester, he could not make up his mind to abandon her to her fate, and
his conflicting feelings occasioned him a night of indescribable
anxiety. The party of watch whom he had summoned searched the street for
him, 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 before
the throne. Proceeding along Cheapside, he entered Paternoster-row, and
traversed it till he came to Paul's Alley,--a narrow passage leading to
the north-west corner of the cathedral. Prompted by an unaccountable
impulse, he no sooner caught sight of the reverend structure, than he
hastened, 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 let
fall his prayer-book, and after gazing vacantly round for a few moments,
staggered to one of the stalls, where, feeling a burning pain in his
breast, he tore open his doublet, and found that the enthusiast had
spoken the truth, and that he was really attacked by the pestilence. As
to Amabel, on hearing the terrible denunciation, she uttered a loud cry,
and would have fallen to the ground but for the timely assistance of the
apprentice, who caught her with one arm, while with the other he
defended himself against the earl and his companions.
But, in spite of his resistance, they would have soon compelled him to
relinquish his charge, if Solomon Eagle, who had hitherto contented
himself with gazing sternly on what was passing, had not interfered;
and, rushing towards the combatants, seized Rochester and Etherege, and
hurled 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 by
Heaven, and ye will find how far it will avail."
At this juncture, Leonard Holt heard a musical voice behind him, and
turning, beheld Nizza Macascree. She beckoned him to follow her; and,
raising Amabel in his arms, he ran towards the door leading to Saint
Faith's, through which his conductress passed. All this was the work of
a moment, and when Rochester and Etherege, who rushed after him, tried
the door, they found it fastened withinside.
Just then, a loud knocking was heard at the northern entrance of the
cathedral, and a verger answering the summons, Mr. Bloundel and Blaize
were admitted. On beholding the newcomers, Rochester and his companions
were filled with confusion. Equally astonished at the recounter, the
grocer grasped his staff, and rushing up to the earl, demanded, in a
voice that made the other, despite his natural audacity, quail--"Where
is my child, my lord? What have you done with her?"
"I know nothing about her," replied Rochester, with affected
carelessness.--"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 the
grocer's dwelling, thought he might now venture to address him without
fear of discovery, and, setting his arms a-kimbo, and assuming a
swaggering demeanour, strutted forward and said, "Your daughter has just
been wedded to Leonard Holt, Mr. Bloundel."
"It is false," cried Bloundel, "as false as the character you just
personated, for I recognise you as the knave who recently appeared
before me as a watchman."
"I pledge you my word as a nobleman," interposed Rochester, "that your
daughter 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 is
dedicated! it is so."
"To convince you that we speak the truth, we will go with you and assist
you to search," said Rochester.
Attaching little credit to what he heard, and yet unwilling to lose a
chance of recovering his daughter, the grocer rushed to the door
indicated by his informant, but found it fastened.
"You had better go to the main entrance," said one of the vergers; "I
have 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 the
chief door of the subterranean church. It was situated at the south of
the cathedral, between two of the larger buttresses, and at the foot of
a flight of stone steps. On reaching it, the verger produced his keys,
but they were of no avail, for the door was barred withinside. After
many fruitless attempts to obtain admission, they were fain to give up
the 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 them
safe enough."
The party then returned to the cathedral, where they found Blaize,
Pillichody, and the two other vergers keeping watch at the door near the
choir. No one had come forth.
Rochester then walked apart with his companions, while Bloundel, feeling
secure so long as he kept the earl in view, folded his arms upon his
breast, and determined to await the result.
By this time, the doors being opened, a great crowd was soon collected
within the sacred structure. Saint Paul's Churchyard, as is well known,
was formerly the great mart for booksellers, who have not, even in later
times, deserted the neighbourhood, but still congregate in
Paternoster-row, Ave-Maria-lane, and the adjoining streets. At the
period of this history they did not confine themselves to the precincts
of the cathedral, but, as has been previously intimated, fixed their
shops against the massive pillars of its nave. Besides booksellers,
there were seamstresses, tobacco-merchants, vendors of fruit and
provisions, and Jews--all of whom had stalls within the cathedral, and
who were now making preparations for the business of the day. Shortly
afterwards, numbers who came for recreation and amusement made their
appearance, 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, and
serving-men, who came to be hired, and who stationed themselves near an
oaken 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 crowd
were smoking, some laughing, others gathering round a ballad-singer, who
was chanting one of Rochester's own licentious ditties; some were buying
quack medicines and remedies for the plague, the virtues of which the
vendor loudly extolled; while others were paying court to the dames,
many of whom were masked. Everything seemed to be going forward within
this sacred place, except devotion. Here, a man, mounted on the carved
marble of a monument, bellowed forth the news of the Dutch war, while
another, not far from him, on a bench, announced in lugubrious accents
the 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 a
gallant--it was Sir Paul Parravicin--who was sealing a bond for thrice
the amount of the loan. There, a party of choristers, attended by a
troop of boys, were pursuing another gallant, who had ventured into the
cathedral booted and spurred, and were demanding "spur-money" of him--an
exaction which they claimed as part of their perquisites.
An admirable picture of this curious scene has been given by Bishop
Earle, in his _Microcosmographia_, published in 1629. "Paul's Walk," he
writes, "is the land's epitome, or you may call it the lesser isle of
Great Britain. It is more than this--it is the whole world's map, which
you may here discern in its perfectest motion, jostling and turning. It
is a heap of stones and men, with a vast confusion of languages; and
were the steeple not sanctified, nothing could be liker Babel. The noise
in it is like that of bees, a strange humming, or buzzing, mixed of
walking, 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 half
so busy at the Parliament. It is the market of young lecturers, whom you
may cheapen here at all rates and sizes. It is the general mint of all
famous lies, which are here, like the legends of Popery, first coined
and stamped in the church. All inventions are emptied here, and not a
few pockets. The best sign of the Temple in it is that it is the
thieves' 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 of
the day, after plays and taverns; and men have still some oaths to swear
here. The visitants are all men without exceptions; but the principal
inhabitants are stale knights and captains out of service, men of long
rapiers and short purses, who after all turn merchants here, and traffic
for news. Some make it a preface to their dinner, and travel for an
appetite; but thirstier men make it their ordinary, and board here very
cheap. Of all such places it is least haunted by hobgoblins, for if a
ghost 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 your
true fashionate and complimental gulls are, and ought to be, hung up."
After giving circumstantial directions for the manner of entering the
walk, he proceeds thus: "Bend your course directly in the middle line
that the whole body of the church may appear to be yours, where in view
of all, you may publish your suit in what manner you affect most, either
with the slide of your cloak from the one shoulder or the other." He
then recommends the gull, after four or five turns in the nave, to
betake himself to some of the semsters' shops the new tobacco office, or
the booksellers' stalls, "where, if you cannot read, exercise your
smoke, and inquire who has written against the divine weed." Such, or
something like it, was Paul's Walk at the period of this history.
The grocer, who had not quitted his post, remained a silent and
sorrowful spectator of the scene. Despite his anxiety, he could not help
moralizing upon it, and it furnished him with abundant food for
reflection. As to Rochester and his companions, they mingled with the
crowd--though the earl kept a wary eye on the door--chatted with the
prettiest damsels--listened to the newsmongers, and broke their fast at
the stall of a vendor of provisions, who supplied them with tolerable
viands, and a bottle of excellent Rhenish. Blaize was soon drawn away by
one of the quacks, and, in spite of his master's angry looks, he could
not help purchasing one of the infallible antidotes offered for sale by
the charlatan. Parravicin had no sooner finished his business with the
usurer than he strolled along the nave, and was equally surprised and
delighted at meeting with his friends, who briefly explained to him why
they 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 luck
of late," replied the knight; "and partly to see a most beautiful
creature, 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," replied
Parravicin. "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 not
charming? But you shall see her."
"We must not go too far from the door of Saint Faith's," rejoined
Rochester. "Can you not contrive to bring her hither?"
"That is more easily said than done," replied Parravicin. "She is as coy
as 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 piper
seated at the entrance of Bishop Kempe's chapel, attended by his
dog--but he missed his daughter when he awoke in the morning, and is in
great trouble about her."
"Strange!" cried Etherege; "I begin to think the place is enchanted."
"It would seem so, indeed," replied Rochester.