keep guard upon your tongue. If you have any preparations to make, they
must 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 to
acquaint her with the result of the interview.
In the afternoon of the same day, the grocer, who began to feel
extremely uneasy about Leonard, again repaired to Saint Paul's to see
whether he could obtain any tidings of him, and learnt, to his great
dismay, from one of the vergers, that a young man, answering to the
description of the apprentice, had been attacked by the pestilence, and
having been taken to the vaults of Saint Faith's, had made his escape
from his attendants, and, it was supposed, had perished. Horror-stricken
by this intelligence, he descended to the subterranean church, where he
met Judith Malmayns and Chowles, who confirmed the verger's statement.
"The poor young man, I am informed," said Chowles, "threw himself into
the Thames, and was picked up by a boat, and afterwards conveyed, in a
dying state, to the pest-house in Finsbury Fields, where you will
probably find him, if he is still alive."
Mr. Bloundel heard no more. Quitting the cathedral, he hastened to
Finsbury Fields, and sought out the building to which he had been
directed. It was a solitary farm-house, of considerable size, surrounded
by an extensive garden, and had only been recently converted to its
present melancholy use. Near it was a barn, also fitted up with beds for
the sick. On approaching the pest-house, Mr. Bloundel was greatly struck
with the contrast presented by its exterior to the misery he knew to be
reigning within. Its situation was charming,--in the midst, as has just
been stated, of a large and, until recently, well-cultivated garden, and
seen under the influence of a bright and genial May day, the whole place
looked the picture of healthfulness and comfort. But a closer view
speedily dispelled the illusion, and showed that it was the abode of
disease and death. Horrid sounds saluted the ears; ghastly figures met
the eyes; and the fragrance of the flowers was overpowered by the
tainted and noisome atmosphere issuing from the open doors and windows.
The grocer had scarcely entered the gate when he was arrested by an
appalling shriek, followed by a succession of cries so horrifying that
he felt half disposed to fly. But mustering up his resolution, and
breathing 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 the
yard, where they were left till they could be taken away at night for
interment.
Sickened by the sight, and blaming himself for entering near this
contagious spot, Mr. Bloundel was about to depart, when a young
chirurgeon stepped out to him, and, in reply to his inquiries after
Leonard, said: "Twelve persons were brought in here last night, and five
this morning, but I do not remember any of their names. You can go
through the rooms and search for your apprentice, if you think proper."
Mr. Bloundel hesitated, but his humanity overcame his apprehension, and
murmuring a prayer that he might be preserved from infection, he
followed his conductor into the house. Prepared as he was for a dreadful
spectacle, the reality far exceeded his anticipations. Along both sides
of a large room, occupying nearly the whole of the ground-floor, were
rows of pallets, on which were laid the sick, many of whom were tied
down to their couches. Almost all seemed in a hopeless state, and the
cadaverous hue of their countenances proclaimed that death was not far
off. Though the doors and windows were open, and the room was filled
with vapours and exhalations, arising from pans of coal and plates of
hot iron, on which drugs were burning, nothing could remove the putrid,
and pestilential smell that pervaded the chamber. The thick vapour
settled on the panes of the windows, and on the roof, and fell to the
ground in heavy drops. Marching quickly past each bed, the grocer noted
the features of its unfortunate occupant; but though there were many
young men, Leonard was not among the number. His conductor then led him
to an upper room, where he found the chirurgeons dressing the sores of
their patients, most of whom uttered loud shrieks while under their
hands. Here an incident occurred which deeply affected the grocer. A
poor young woman, who had been brought to the pest-house with her child
on the previous evening, had just expired, and the infant, unable to
obtain its customary nourishment, uttered the most piteous cries. It was
instantly removed by a nurse and proper food given it; but Mr. Bloundel
was informed that the plague-tokens had already appeared, and that it
would not probably live over the night. "I have no doubt," said the
young chirurgeon, "it will be buried with its mother." And so it
happened.
The grocer turned away to hide his emotion, and endeavoured through his
blinded gaze to discover Leonard, but, as will be anticipated, without
success. Stunned by the cries and groans that pierced his ears, and
almost stifled by the pestilential effluvia, he rushed out of the house,
and gladly accepted a glass of sack offered him by his conductor, which
removed the dreadful nausea that affected him.
"I now remember that the two last persons brought here were taken to the
barn," observed the chirurgeon; "I will go with you thither, if you
think proper."
The grocer assented, and the chirurgeon crossed the yard, and opened the
door of the barn, on the floor of which upwards of twenty beds were
laid. Passing between them, Mr. Bloundel narrowly scrutinized every
countenance; but, to his great relief, recognised no one. One couch
alone remained to be examined. The poor sufferer within it had drawn the
coverings over his face, and when they were removed he was found quite
dead! He was a young man; and the agony he had endured in the last
struggle was shown by his collapsed frame and distorted features. It was
not, 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 thus
far, I will not leave my errand unaccomplished. Suffer me to look at
them."
The chirurgeon then led the way to a spacious outbuilding, once used for
cattle, in the midst of which stood a large frame supporting six bodies,
covered only with a sheet. Mr. Bloundel could not overcome his
repugnance to enter this shed; but the chirurgeon, who appeared
habituated to such scenes, and to regard them lightly, threw off the
sheet, and raised the corpses, one by one, that he might the better view
them. One peculiarity Mr. Bloundel noticed; namely, that the limbs of
these unfortunate victims of the pestilence did not stiffen, as would
have been the case if they had died of any other disorder; while the
blotches that appeared on the livid flesh made them objects almost too
horrible to look upon. In many cases the features were frightfully
distorted--the tongues of the poor wretches swollen and protruding--the
hands clenched, and the toes bent towards the soles of the feet.
Everything denoted the dreadful pangs that must have attended
dissolution.
Greatly relieved to find that the whole of this ghastly group were
strangers to him, Mr. Bloundel thanked the chirurgeon, and departed.
Convinced that he had been deceived by the coffin-maker, he now began to
hope that the whole story was false; but he determined not to rest till
he had thoroughly investigated the matter. Before doing so, however, he
thought it advisable to return home, and accordingly shaped his course
toward Cripplegate, and, passing through the postern, stopped at an
apothecary's shop, and got his apparel fumigated and sprinkled with
spirits of hartshorn and sulphur.
On reaching Wood-street, he noticed, with some uneasiness, a number of
persons gathered together before his dwelling. His fears were speedily
relieved by finding that the assemblage was collected by a preacher, who
was pronouncing an exhortation to them in tones almost as loud and
emphatic as those of Solomon Eagle. The preacher's appearance was very
remarkable, and attracted the attention of the grocer, who joined the
crowd to listen to him. As far as could be judged, he was a middle-aged
man, with black hair floating over his shoulders, earnest features, and
a grey eye of extraordinary brilliancy. His figure was slight and erect,
and his gestures as impassioned as his looks. He spoke with great
rapidity; and his eloquence, combined with his fervent manner and
expression, completely entranced his audience. He was habited in a
cassock and bands, and had taken off his cap, which was held by an
attendant, who stood near the stool on which he was mounted. The latter
differed materially from his master. His closely-cropped hair, demure
looks, sugar-loaf hat, and suit of rusty sable, seemed to proclaim him a
Puritan; but his twinkling eye--for he had but one, and wore a black
patch over the orifice--his inflamed cheeks, and mulberry nose
contradicted the idea.
As soon as the preacher distinguished Mr. Bloundel, he addressed his
discourse to him; and, alluding to his religious habits and general
excellence of character, held him up as an example to others. The grocer
would fain have retreated; but the preacher besought him to stay, and
was proceeding in the same strain, when a sudden interruption took
place. A slight disturbance occurring amid the crowd, the attendant
attempted to check it, and in doing so received a sound buffet on the
ears. In endeavouring to return the blow, he struck another party, who
instantly retaliated, and a general affray commenced--some taking one
side, some the other. In the midst of the confusion three persons forced
their way towards the preacher, knocked him from his stool, and,
assailing him with the most opprobrious epithets, dealt him several
seemingly severe blows, and would have further maltreated him, if Mr.
Bloundel had not interposed, and, pushing aside his assailants, gave him
his hand, and led him into his dwelling, the door of which he closed.
Shortly afterwards, the crowd dispersing, the preacher's companion
entered the shop in search of his master.
"I hope you have sustained no injury during this tumult, reverend and
dear sir?" he asked, with great apparent solicitude.
"I am not much hurt," replied the preacher; "but I have received a blow
on 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. But
your 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 hospitality
towards him."
"Readily," replied the grocer. "Here, Blaize, assist the reverend
gentleman within, and bid your mistress come down stairs immediately."
Doctor Maplebury was then conveyed between the porter and Bambolio into
the inner room, where he sank into a chair in a complete state of
exhaustion. The next moment Mrs. Bloundel made her appearance with
Amabel. The latter no sooner beheld the preacher, than she started and
trembled so violently, that she could scarcely support herself; but her
mother, who only saw a fainting man, flew to his assistance, and called
to Patience to bring restoratives. These applied, Doctor Maplebury was
soon able to rouse himself sufficiently to gaze round the room, and fix
his eyes on Amabel.
"So our old friends are here again," said Patience in a low tone to
Blaize, 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. "I
knew them at a glance, and so did Mistress Amabel. But if I hadn't
discovered them, the major would soon have let me into the secret by the
way in which he squeezed my hand."
"Indeed!" exclaimed Blaize, angrily. "I'll go and acquaint my master
with the trick directly."
"Do so," replied Patience, "and the house will be shut up to-morrow. Our
only 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, though
so weak as scarcely to be able to lift an arm, he was free from all
ailment. Feeling ravenously hungry, he made known his wants; and,
provisions being set before him, he was allowed to eat and drink in
moderation. Greatly revived by the meal, he arose and attired himself in
habiliments provided for him by Hodges, who, finding him fully equal to
conversation, questioned him as to all that had occurred prior to his
seizure.
"You have acted nobly," observed the doctor, at the close of his
recital; "and if Amabel had a spark of generosity in her composition,
she would worthily requite you. But I do not expect it. How different is
her conduct from that of the piper's pretty daughter. The latter really
loves you; and I would advise you as a friend to turn your thoughts to
her. She will make you happy: whereas the indulgence of your present
hopeless passion--for hopeless it is--can only lead to wretchedness."
"Would I could follow your advice!" replied Leonard; "but, alas! I
cannot. Amabel does not love the Earl of Rochester more blindly, more
constantly, than I love her; and I could as soon change my nature as
transfer 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 shall
wander round it night and day like a ghost."
"I will accompany you there this evening," rejoined Hodges, "and I trust
I shall be able to arrange matters without compromising Amabel. I wish I
could 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 would
be for your happiness. The brilliant qualities of your noble rival at
present so dazzle her eyes, that your own solid worth is completely
overlooked. 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 his
infamous purpose," cried Leonard, fiercely.
"No more of this!" exclaimed Hodges. "If you would have me take an
interest in you, you will never give utterance to such a sentiment
again. Amabel has another guardian, more powerful even than her
father--the plague. Ere long the earl, who has a sufficient value for
his own safety, will fly the city."
"I hope the pestilence will number him among its victims," observed
Leonard, in a sombre tone.
At this juncture the old porter entered the room, and informed his
master that the piper's daughter was below, and had called to inquire
after the apprentice.
Hodges desired she might be shown upstairs, and the next moment Nizza
was ushered into the room. On beholding the improved appearance of
Leonard, she could not repress an exclamation of delight, while a deep
blush suffused her cheeks.
"You are surprised to find him quite well," observed Hodges, with a
smile. "Nay, you may approach him with safety. There is no fear of
contagion now."
"Having satisfied myself on that point, I will take my leave," rejoined
Nizza, in some confusion.
"Not till you have allowed me to return my thanks, I trust," said
Leonard, advancing towards her, and taking her hand. "I owe my life to
you."
"Then pay the debt by devoting it to her," rejoined Hodges. "Excuse me
for a few minutes. I have business to attend to, but will be back again
directly."
Left alone together, the young couple felt so much embarrassment that
for some minutes neither could utter a word. At length Nizza, who had
suffered 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 you
still 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 can
restore you to your master's favour. You will therefore return home, and
we 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 hope
we shall be more fortunate."
"You mistake me," replied Nizza. "Henceforth I shall sedulously avoid
you. Till I saw you, I was happy, and indifferent to all else, my
affections being centred in my father and in my dog. Now I am restless
and miserable. My former pursuits are abandoned, and I think only of
you. Despise me if you will after this frank avowal. But believe that I
would 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 deepest
gratitude towards you; but perhaps it is better we should meet no more."
"And yet you throw yourself in the way of Amabel," cried Nizza. "You
have not resolution to fly from the danger which you counsel me to
shun."
"It is too true," replied Leonard; "but she is beset by temptations from
which I hope to preserve her."
"That excuse will not avail me," returned Nizza, bitterly. "You cannot
live without her. But I have said enough--more than enough," she added,
correcting herself. "I must now bid you farewell--for ever. May you be
happy 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 not
been stopped by Doctor Hodges.
"Whither so fast?" he inquired.
"Oh! let me go--let me go, I implore of you!" she cried, bursting into
an agony of tears.
"Not till you have composed yourself," rejoined the doctor. "What is the
matter? But I need not ask. I wonder Leonard can be insensible to charms
like yours, coupled with such devotion. Everything seems to be at cross
purposes, and it requires some one more skilled in the affairs of the
heart than an old bachelor like myself to set them right. Sit down. I
have 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, questioned
her as to what she knew relating to Judith Malmayns and Chowles.
"Mr. Quatremain, the minor canon, has died of the plague in one of the
vaults of Saint Faith's," he observed; "and I more than suspect, from
the appearance of the body, has not met with fair play."
"Your suspicion is well founded, sir," replied Nizza. "Solomon Eagle
told 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 Holt
in the same manner, and would have accomplished her purpose but for the
intervention of Solomon Eagle."
"Neither she nor her partner in guilt, the coffin-maker, shall escape
justice this time," replied Hodges. "I will instantly cause her to be
arrested, and I trust she will expiate her offences at Tyburn. But to
change the subject. I am sincerely interested about you, Nizza, and I
wish I could make Leonard as sensible of your merits as I am myself. I
still hope a change will take place in his feelings."
"My heart tells me the contrary," replied Nizza. "There is no hope for
either of us. Farewell, Leonard!" and she rushed out of the room.
Soon after this Hodges quitted the apprentice, and going before a
magistrate, detailed all that had come to his knowledge concerning the
criminal practices of Judith Malmayns and Chowles. In the course of the
day the accused parties were arrested, and, after a long examination,
conveyed to Newgate. Solomon Eagle could not be found, neither could Sir
Paul Parravicin. It appeared that Mr. Quatremain's residence had been
entered on that very morning, and the box of treasure discovered in
Saint Faith's abstracted. But though the strongest suspicion of the
robbery attached to Chowles and Judith, it could not be brought home to
them.
We shall now proceed to Wood-street, and ascertain what took place
there. Refreshments were placed before the supposed Doctor Maplebury by
the grocer, while his attendant was sent to the kitchen, and directions
given to Blaize to take every care of him; old Josyna was occupied about
her own concerns; and Pillichody, perceiving from the porter's manner
that his disguise was detected, laid aside concealment altogether, and
endeavoured to win the other over to his patron's interests.
"If this marriage takes place," he said, "I am authorized by my noble
friend to state that he will appoint you his steward with a large
salary, and that will be a very different situation from the one you
hold at present. A nobleman's steward! Think of that. You will have a
retinue of servants under your control, and will live quite as well as
his lordship."
"I have some scruples," hesitated Blaize.
"Scruples! pshaw!" cried Pillichody. "You can have no hesitation in
benefiting yourself. If you remain here, the house will be shut up, and
you will be kept a close prisoner for months in the very heart of an
infected 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 magnificent
country mansion--a palace, I ought to call it--enjoy every luxury, and
remain there till the plague is over."
"That last reason decides me," replied Blaize. "But I suppose his
lordship will provide himself with a medicine chest?"
"He has already got one as large as this table," said Pillichody, "and
you shall have the key of it."
"Enough!" exclaimed Blaise. "I am yours."
"Pray, what am I to be?" asked Patience, who had listened to the
foregoing conversation with a smile at Blaize's credulity.
"You, sweetheart!" exclaimed Pillichody. "I will take care of you. You
shall 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 a
better match," observed Patience. "I release you from the engagement."
"I don't choose to be released," returned Blaize; "I will marry you on
the 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 can
once get you and your pretty mistress out of the house, we will leave
this simpleton fool in the lurch."
"No, I will never consent to such a thing," returned Patience, in the
same tone.
"What's that you are saying?" inquired Blaize, suspiciously.
"Major Pillichody says he will marry me, if you won't," returned
Patience.
"I have just told you I will," rejoined Blaize. "But he must not
continue 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 as
there is no knowing what may occur, it will be as well to prepare
accordingly."
So saying, he fell to work upon the provisions loading the board, and
ate 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 precisely 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 at
Amabel, and on these occasions, his eyes were quite as eloquent and
intelligible as his tongue.