subject very near her heart, but, feeling doubtful as to its reception,
she checked herself. The devoted attachment of the apprentice to her
niece had entirely won her regard, and she fondly hoped she would be
able to wean Amabel from all thought of the Earl of Rochester, and
induce her to give her hand to her faithful lover. With this view, she
often spoke to her of Leonard--of his devotion and constancy, his good
looks and excellent qualities; and though Amabel assented to all she
said, Mrs. Buscot was sorry to perceive that the impression she desired
was not produced. It was not so with Nizza Macascree. Whenever Leonard's
name was mentioned, her eyes sparkled, her cheek glowed, and she
responded so warmly to all that was said in his praise, that Mrs. Buscot
soon found out the state of her heart. The discovery occasioned her some
little disquietude, for the worthy creature could not bear the idea of
making even her niece happy at the expense of another.
As to the object of all this tender interest, he felt far happier than
he had done for some time. He saw Amabel every day, and noted with
unspeakable delight the gradual improvement which appeared to be taking
place in her health. The greater part of his time, however, was not
passed in her society, but in threading the intricacies of the wood, or
in rambling over the neighbouring downs; and he not only derived
pleasure from these rambles, but his health and spirits, which had been
not a little shaken by the awful scenes he had recently witnessed, were
materially improved. Here, at last, he seemed to have got rid of the
grim spectre which, for two months, had constantly haunted him. No
greater contrast can be conceived than his present quiet life offered to
the fearful excitement he had recently undergone. For hot and narrow
thoroughfares reeking with pestilential effluvia, resounding with
frightful shrieks, or piteous cries, and bearing on every side marks of
the destructive progress of the scourge--for these terrible sights and
sounds--for the charnel horrors of the plague-pit--the scarcely less
revolting scenes at the pest-house--the dismal bell announcing the
dead-cart--the doleful cries of the buriers--for graves surfeited with
corruption, and streets filled with the dying and the dead--and, above
all, for the ever-haunting expectation that a like fate might be his
own,--he had exchanged green hills, fresh breezes, spreading views, the
song of the lark, and a thousand other delights, and assurances of
health and contentment. Often, as he gazed from the ridge of the downs
into the wide-spread vale beneath, he wondered whether the destroying
angel had smitten any of its peaceful habitations, and breathed a prayer
for their preservation!
But the satisfaction he derived from having quitted the infected city
was trifling compared with that of Blaize, whose sole anxiety was lest
he should be sent back to London. Seldom straying further than the gates
of the mansion, though often invited by John Lutcombe to accompany him
to some of the neighbouring villages; having little to do, and less to
think of, unless to calculate how much he could consume at the next
meal,--for he had banished all idea of the plague,--he conceived himself
at the summit of happiness, and waxed so sleek and round, that his face
shone like a full moon, while his doublet would scarcely meet around his
waist.
One day, about a fortnight after their arrival, and when things were in
this happy state, Amabel, who was seated as usual in the gallery at the
summit of the house, observed a troop of horsemen, very gallantly
equipped, appear at the further end of the northern avenue. An
inexpressible terror seized her, and she would have fled into the house,
but her limbs refused their office.
"Look there!" she cried to Nizza, who, at that moment, presented herself
at the glass door. "Look there!" she said, pointing to the cavalcade;
"what I dreaded has come to pass. The Earl of Rochester has found me
out, and is coming hither to carry me off. But I will die rather than
accompany him."
"You may be mistaken," replied Nizza, expressing a hopefulness, which
her looks belied; "it may be the Earl of Craven."
"You give me new life," rejoined Amabel; "but no--no--my aunt has told
me that the good earl will not quit the city during the continuance of
the plague. And see! some of the horsemen have distinguished us, and are
waving their hats. My heart tells me the Earl of Rochester is amongst
them. Give me your arm, Nizza, and I will try to gain some place of
concealment."
"Ay, let us fly," replied the other, assisting her towards the door; "I
am in equal danger with yourself, for Sir Paul Parravicin is doubtless
with them. Oh! where--where is Leonard?"
"He must be below," cried Amabel "But he could not aid us at this
juncture; we must depend upon ourselves."
Descending a short staircase, they entered Amabel's chamber, and
fastening the door, awaited with breathless anxiety the arrival of the
horsemen. Though the room whither they had retreated was in the upper
part of the house, they could distinctly hear what was going on below,
and shortly afterwards the sound of footsteps on the stairs, blended
with merry voices and loud laughter--amid which, Amabel could
distinguish the tones of the Earl of Rochester--reached them.
While both were palpitating with fright, the handle of the door was
tried, and a voice announced that the apprentice was without.
"All is lost!" he cried, speaking through the keyhole; "the king is
here, and is accompanied by the Earl of Rochester and other
profligates."
"The king!" exclaimed Amabel, joyfully; "then I am no longer
apprehensive."
"As yet, no inquiries have been made after you," continued Leonard,
unconscious of the effect produced by his intelligence, "but it is
evident they know you are here. Be prepared, therefore."
"I _am_ prepared," rejoined Amabel. And as she spoke, she threw open the
door and admitted Leonard. "Do not stay with us," she added to him. "In
case of need, I will throw myself on his majesty's protection."
"It will avail you little," rejoined Leonard, distrustfully.
"I do not think so," said Amabel, confidently. "I have faith in his
acknowledged kindness of heart."
"Perhaps you are right," returned Leonard. "Mrs. Buscot is at present
with his majesty in the receiving-room. Will you not make fast your
door?"
"No," replied Amabel, firmly; "if the king will not defend me, I will
defend myself."
Leonard glanced at her with admiration, but he said nothing.
"Is Sir Paul Parravicin here?" asked Nizza Macascree, with great
anxiety.
"I have not seen him," replied Leonard; "and I have carefully examined
the countenances of all the king's attendants."
"Heaven be praised!" exclaimed Nizza.
At this juncture, Mrs. Buscot entered the room. Her looks bespoke great
agitation, and she trembled violently.
"You have no doubt heard from Leonard that the king and his courtiers
are below," she said. "His majesty inquired whether you were here, and I
did not dare to deceive him. He desires to see you, and has sent me for
you. What is to be done?" she added, with a look of distraction. "I
suppose you must obey."
"There is no alternative," replied Amabel; "I will obey his majesty's
commands as soon as I can collect myself. Take back that answer, dear
aunt."
"Has Leonard told you that the Earl of Rochester is here?" pursued Mrs.
Buscot.
Amabel replied in the affirmative.
"God grant that good may come of it!" cried Mrs. Buscot, clasping her
hands together, as she quitted the room; "but I am sorely afraid."
A half-suppressed groan from the apprentice told that he shared in her
apprehensions.
"Leave us, Leonard," said Amabel; "I would prepare myself for the
interview."
The apprentice obeyed, and closing the door after him, stationed himself
at the foot of the staircase. Left alone with Nizza, Amabel threw
herself on her knees, and besought the support of Heaven on this trying
occasion. She then arose, and giving her hand to Nizza, they went down
stairs together. Leonard followed them at a little distance, and with a
beating heart. Two gentlemen-ushers were posted, at the door of the
chamber occupied by the king. Not far from them stood Mrs. Buscot, who,
having made known her niece to the officials, they instantly admitted
her, but ordered Nizza to remain outside.
On entering the room, Amabel at once discovered the king. He was habited
in a magnificent riding-dress and was seated on a rich fauteuil, around
which were grouped a dozen gaily-attired courtiers. Amongst these were
the Earl of Rochester and Sir George Etherege. As Amabel advanced,
glances of insolent curiosity were directed towards her, and Rochester,
stepping forward, offered to lead her to the king. She, however,
declined the attention. Greatly mortified, the earl would have seized
her hand; but there was so much dignity in her deportment, so much
coldness in her looks, that in spite of his effrontery, he felt abashed.
Charles smiled at his favourite's rebuff, but, in common with the
others, he could not help being struck by Amabel's extraordinary beauty
and natural dignity, and he observed, in an under-tone, to Etherege, "Is
it possible this can be a grocer's daughter?"
"She passes for such, my liege," replied Etherege, with a smile. "But I
cannot swear to her parentage."
"Since I have seen her, I do not wonder at Rochester's extravagant
passion," rejoined the monarch. "But, odds fish! she seems to care
little for him."
Having approached within a short distance of the king, Amabel would have
prostrated herself before him, but he prevented her.
"Nay, do not kneel, sweetheart," he said, "I am fully satisfied of your
loyalty, and never exact homage from one of your sex, but, on the
contrary, am ever ready to pay it. I have heard much of your
attractions, and, what is seldom the case in such matters, find they
have not been overrated. The brightest of our court beauties cannot
compare with you."
"A moment ago, the fair Amabel might be said to lack bloom," observed
Etherege; "but your majesty's praises have called a glowing colour to
her cheek."
"Would you deign to grant me a moment's hearing, my liege?" said Amabel,
looking steadfastly at the king.
"Not a moment's hearing merely, sweetheart," returned Charles; "but an
hour's, if you list. I could dwell on the music of your tones for ever."
"I thank your majesty for your condescension," she replied; "but I will
not long trespass on your patience. What I have to say concerns the Earl
of Rochester."
"Stand forward, my lord," said Charles to the earl, "and let us hear
what complaint is to be made against you."
Rochester advanced, and threw a passionate and half-reproachful glance
at Amabel.
"It may be improper for me to trouble your majesty on so light a
matter," said Amabel; "but your kindness emboldens me to speak
unreservedly. You may be aware that this nobleman once entertained, or
feigned to entertain, an ardent attachment to me."
"I need scarcely assure you, my liege," interposed Rochester, "that it
was no feigned passion. And it is needless to add, that however ardently
I felt towards my fair accuser then, my passion has in nowise abated."
"I should wonder if it had," rejoined Charles, gallantly. "I will not
contradict you, my lord," said Amabel; "it _is_ possible you may have
loved me, though I find it difficult to reconcile your professions of
regard with your conduct--but this is not to the purpose. Whether you
loved me or not, I loved _you_--deeply and devotedly. There is no
sacrifice I would not have made for him," she continued, turning to the
king, "and influenced by these feelings, and deluded by false promises,
I forgot my duty, and was rash enough to quit my home with him."
"All this I have heard, sweetheart," replied Charles. "There is nothing
very remarkable in it. It is the ordinary course of such affairs. I am
happy to be the means of restoring your lover to you, and, in fact, came
hither for that very purpose."
"You mistake me, my liege," replied Amabel. "I do not desire to have him
restored to me. Fortunately for myself, I have succeeded in mastering my
love for him. The struggle has well-nigh cost me my life--but I _have_
conquered."
"I have yet to learn, sweetheart," observed Charles, with an incredulous
look, "that woman's love, if deeply fixed, _can_ be subdued."
"If I had not been supported by religion, my liege, I could _not_ have
subdued it," rejoined Amabel "Night and day, I have passed in
supplicating the Great Power that implanted this fatal passion in my
breast, and, at length, my prayers have prevailed."
"Aha! we have a devotee here!" thought Charles. "Am I to understand,
fair saint, that you would reject the earl, if he were to offer you his
hand?" he asked.
"Unquestionably," replied Amabel, firmly.
"This is strange," muttered Charles. "The girl is evidently in earnest.
What says your lordship?" he added to Rochester.
"That she shall be mine, whether she loves me or not," replied the earl.
"My pride is piqued to the conquest."
"No wonder!--the resistless Rochester flouted by a grocer's daughter.
Ha! ha!" observed Charles, laughing, while the rest of the courtiers
joined in his merriment.
"Oh! sire," exclaimed Amabel, throwing herself at the king's feet, and
bursting into tears, "do not abandon me, I beseech you. I cannot requite
the earl's attachment--and shall die if he continues his pursuit.
Command him--oh! command him to desist."
"I fear you have not dealt fairly with me, sweetheart," said the king.
"There is a well-favoured youth without, whom the earl pointed out as
your father's apprentice. Have you transferred your affections to him?"
"Your majesty has solved the enigma," observed Rochester, bitterly.
"You wrong me, my lord," replied Amabel. "Leonard Holt is without. Let
him be brought into the royal presence and interrogated; and if he will
affirm that I have given him the slightest encouragement by look or
word, or even state that he himself indulges a hope of holding a place
in my regards, I will admit there is some foundation for the charge. I
pray your majesty to send for him."
"It is needless," replied Charles, coldly. "I do not doubt your
assertion. But you will do the earl an injustice as well as yourself, if
you do not allow him a fair hearing."
"If you will allow me five minutes alone with you, Amabel, or will take
a single turn with me on the terrace, I will engage to remove every
doubt," insinuated Rochester.
"You would fail to do so, my lord," replied Amabel. "The time is gone by
when those accents, once so winning in my ear, can move me."
"At least give me the opportunity," implored the earl.
"No," replied Amabel, decidedly, "I will never willingly meet you more;
for though I am firm in my purpose, I do not think it right to expose
myself to temptation. And now that I have put your majesty in full
possession of my sentiments," she added to the king; "now that I have
told you with what bitter tears I have striven to wash out my error,--I
implore you to extend your protecting hand towards me, and to save me
from further persecution on the part of the earl."
"I shall remain at this place to-night," returned Charles. "Take till
to-morrow to consider of it, and if you continue in the same mind, your
request shall be granted."
"At least, enjoin the earl to leave me unmolested till then," cried
Amabel.
"Hum!" exclaimed the king, exchanging a look with Rochester.
"For pity, sire, do not hesitate," cried Amabel, in a tone of such agony
that the good-natured monarch could not resist it.
"Well, well," he rejoined; "it shall be as you desire. Rochester, you
have heard our promise, and will act in conformity with it."
The earl bowed carelessly.
"Nay, nay, my lord," pursued Charles, authoritatively, "my commands
_shall_ be obeyed, and if you purpose otherwise, I will place you under
restraint."
"Your majesty's wishes are sufficient restraint," rejoined Rochester; "I
am all obedience."
"It is well," replied Charles. "Are you satisfied, fair damsel?"
"Perfectly," replied Amabel. And making a profound and grateful
reverence to the king, she retired.
Nizza Macascree met her at the door, and it was fortunate she did so, or
Amabel, whose strength began to fail her, would otherwise have fallen.
While she was thus engaged, Charles caught sight of the piper's
daughter, and being greatly struck by her beauty, inquired her name.
"Odds fish!" he exclaimed, when informed of it by Rochester, "a piper's
daughter! She is far more beautiful than your mistress."
"If I procure her for your majesty, will you withdraw your interdiction
from me?" rejoined the earl.
"No--no--that is impossible, after the pledge I have given," replied
Charles. "But you must bring this lovely creature to me anon. I am
enchanted with her, and do not regret this long ride, since it has
brought her under my notice."
"Your majesty's wishes shall be obeyed," said Rochester. "I will not
wait till to-morrow for an interview with Amabel," he added to himself.
Supported by Nizza Macascree and her aunt, and followed by Leonard,
Amabel contrived to reach her own chamber, and as soon as she was
sufficiently recovered from the agitation she had experienced, detailed
to them all that had passed in her interview with the king. While the
party were consulting together as to the course to be pursued in this
emergency, the tap of a wand was heard at the door, and the summons
being answered by Mrs. Buscot, she found one of the ushers without, who
informed her it was the king's pleasure that no one should leave the
house till the following day, without his permission.
"To insure obedience to his orders," continued the usher, "his majesty
requires that the keys of the stables be delivered to the keeping of his
chief page, Mr. Chiffinch, who has orders, together with myself, to keep
watch during the night."
So saying, he bowed and retired, while Mrs. Buscot returned with this
new and alarming piece of intelligence to the others.
"Why should the mandate be respected?" cried Leonard, indignantly. "We
have committed no crime, and ought not to be detained prisoners. Trust
to me, and I will find some means of eluding their vigilance. If you
will remain here to-morrow," he added to Amabel, "you are lost."
"Do not expect any rational advice from me, my dear niece," observed
Mrs. Buscot, "for I am fairly bewildered."
"Shall I not forfeit the king's protection by disobeying his
injunctions?" replied Amabel. "I am safer here than if I were to seek a
new asylum, which would be speedily discovered."
"Heaven grant you may not have cause to repent your decision!" cried
Leonard, despondingly.
"I must now, perforce, quit you, my dear niece," said Mrs. Buscot,
"though it breaks my heart to do so. His majesty's arrival has thrown
everything into confusion, and if I do not look after the supper, which
is commanded at an early hour, it will never be ready. As it is, there
will be nothing fit to set before him. What with my distress about you,
and my anxiety about the royal repast, I am well-nigh beside myself."
With this, she quitted the room, and Amabel signifying to Leonard that
she desired to be left alone with Nizza Macascree, he departed at the
same time.
As Mrs. Buscot had stated, the utmost confusion prevailed below. The
royal purveyor and cook, who formed part of the king's suite, were
busily employed in the kitchen, and though they had the whole household
at their command, they made rather slow progress at first, owing to the
want of materials. In a short time, however, this difficulty was
remedied. Ducks were slaughtered by the dozen; fowls by the score, and a
couple of fat geese shared the same fate. The store ponds were visited
for fish by John Lutcombe; and as the country abounded with game, a
large supply of pheasants, partridges, and rabbits was speedily procured
by the keeper and his assistants. Amongst others, Blaize lent a
helping-hand in this devastation of the poultry-yard, and he had just
returned to the kitchen, and commenced plucking one of the geese, when
he was aroused by a slap on the shoulder, and looking up, beheld
Pillichody.
"What ho! my little Blaize, my physic-taking porter," cried the bully;
"how wags the world with you? And how is my pretty Patience? How is that
peerless kitchen-maiden? By the god of love! I am dying to behold her
again."
"Patience is well enough, for aught I know," replied Blaize, in a surly
tone. "But it is useless for you to think of her. She is betrothed to
me."
"I know it," replied Pillichody; "but do not suppose you are the sole
master of her affections. The little charmer has too good taste for
that. 'Blaize,' said she to me, 'will do very well for a husband, but he
cannot expect me to continue faithful to him.'"
"Cannot I?" exclaimed the porter reddening. "Fiends take her! but I do!
When did she say this?"
"When I last visited your master's house," replied Pillichody. "Sweet
soul! I shall never forget her tender looks, nor the kisses she allowed
me to snatch from her honeyed lips when your back was turned. The very
recollection of them is enchanting."
"Zounds and fury!" cried Blaize, transported with rage. "If I am only a
porter, while you pretend to be a major, I will let you see I am the
better man of the two." And taking the goose by the neck, he swung it
round his head like a flail, and began to batter Pillichody about the
face with it.
"S'death!" cried the bully, endeavouring to draw his sword, "if you do
not instantly desist, I will treat you like that accursed bird--cut your
throat, pluck, stuff, roast, and eat you afterwards." He was, however,
so confounded by the attack, that he could offer no resistance, and in
retreating, caught his foot against the leg of a table, and fell
backwards on the floor. Being now completely at the porter's mercy, and
seeing that the latter was preparing to pursue his advantage with a
rolling-pin which he had snatched from the dresser, he besought him
piteously to spare him.
"Recant all you have said," cried Blaize, brandishing the rolling-pin
over him. "Confess that you have calumniated Patience. Confess that she
rejected your advances, if you ever dared to make any to her. Confess
that she is a model of purity and constancy. Confess all this, villain,
or I will break every bone in your body."
"I do confess it," replied Pillichody, abjectly. "She is all you
describe. She never allowed me greater freedom than a squeeze of the
hand."
"That was too much," replied the porter, belabouring him with the
rolling-pin. "Swear that you will never attempt such a liberty again, or
I will pummel you to death. Swear it."
"I swear," replied Pillichody.
"Before I allow you to rise, I must disarm you to prevent mischief,"
cried Blaize. And kneeling down upon the prostrate bully, who groaned
aloud, he drew his long blade from his side. "There, now you may get
up," he added.
So elated was Blaize with his conquest, that he could do nothing for
some time but strut up and down the kitchen with the sword over his
shoulder, to the infinite diversion of the other domestics, and
especially of John Lutcombe, who chanced to make his appearance at the
time, laden with a fresh supply of game.
"Why, Blaize, man," cried the keeper, approvingly, "I did not give you
credit for half so much spirit."
"No man's courage is duly appreciated until it has been tried," rejoined
Blaize. "I would combat with you, gigantic John, if Patience's fidelity
were called in question."
Pillichody, meanwhile, had retired with a discomfited air into a corner,
where he seated himself on a stool, and eyed the porter askance, as if
meditating some terrible retaliation. Secretly apprehensive of this, and
thinking it becoming to act with generosity towards his foe, Blaize
marched up to him, and extended his hand in token of reconciliation. To
the surprise of all, Pillichody did not reject his overtures.
"I have a great regard for you, friend Blaize," he said, "otherwise I
should never rest till I had been repaid with terrible interest for the
indignities I have endured."
"Nay, heed them not," replied Blaize. "You must make allowances for the
jealous feelings you excited. I love Patience better than my life."