inconceivable swiftness, he plunged through the window regardless of the
flame. All those who witnessed this daring deed, regarded his
destruction as certain, and even Hodges gave him up for lost. But the
next moment he appeared at the window, bearing the fainting female form
in his arms, and with extraordinary dexterity obtaining a firm footing
and hold of the ladder, descended in safety. The shout that burst from
such part of the assemblage as had witnessed this achievement, and its
successful termination, attracted the king's attention, and he inquired
the cause of the clamour.
"I will ascertain it for your majesty," replied Rochester, and
proceeding to the group, he learnt, to his great satisfaction, what had
occurred. Having gained this intelligence, he flew back to the king, and
briefly explained the situation of the parties. Doctor Hodges, it
appeared, had just removed to the house in question, which belonged to
one of his patients, as a temporary asylum, and the Lady Isabella had
accompanied him. She was in the upper part of the house when the fire
broke out, and was so much terrified that she swooned away, in which
condition her attendant left her; nor was the latter so much to blame as
might appear, for the stairs were burning at the time, and a moment's
delay would have endangered her own safety.
"Fate, indeed, seems to have brought these young persons together,"
replied Charles, as he listened to Rochester's recital, who took this
opportunity of acquainting him with Lord Argentine's dying injunctions,
"and it would be a pity to separate them."
"I am sure your majesty has no such intention," said Rochester.
"You will see," rejoined the monarch. And, as he spoke, he turned his
horse's head, and moved towards the spot where Leonard was kneeling
beside Isabella, and supporting her. Some restoratives having been
applied by Doctor Hodges, she had regained her sensibility, and was
murmuring her thanks to her deliverer.
"She has not lost her beauty, I perceive," cried Charles, gazing at her
with admiration, and feeling something of his former passion revive
within his breast.
"Your majesty, I trust, will not mar their happiness," said Rochester,
noticing the monarch's libertine look with uneasiness. "Remember, you
owe your life to that young man."
"And I will pay the debt royally," replied Charles; "I will give him
permission to marry her."
"Your majesty's permission is scarcely needed," muttered Rochester.
"There you are wrong, my lord," replied the king. "She is now my ward,
and I can dispose of her in marriage as I please; nor will I so dispose
of her except to her equal in rank."
"I discern your majesty's gracious intentions," replied Rochester,
gratefully inclining his head.
"I almost forget my deliverer's name," whispered Charles, with a smile,
"but it is of no consequence, since he will so speedily change it."
"His name is Leonard Holt," replied Rochester, in the same tone.
"Ah!--true," returned the king. "What ho! good Master Leonard Holt," he
added, addressing the young man, "commit the Lady Isabella Argentine to
the care of our worthy friend Doctor Hodges for a moment, and stand up
before me." His injunctions being complied with, he continued, "The Lady
Isabella Argentine and I owe our lives to you, and we must both evince
our gratitude--she by devoting that life, which, if I am not
misinformed, she will be right willing to do, to you, and I by putting
you in a position to unite yourself to her. The title of Argentine has
been this day extinguished by most unhappy circumstances; I therefore
confer the title on you, and here in this presence create you Baron
Argentine, of Argentine, in Staffordshire. Your patent shall be made out
with all convenient despatch, and with it you shall receive the hand of
the sole representative of that ancient and noble house."
"Your majesty overwhelms me," replied Leonard, falling on his knee and
pressing the king's hand, which was kindly extended towards him, to his
lips. "I can scarcely persuade myself I am not in a dream."
"You will soon awaken to the sense of the joyful reality," returned the
king. "Have I not now discharged my debt?" he added to Rochester.
"Right royally, indeed, my liege," replied the earl, in a tone of
unaffected emotion. "My lord," he added, grasping Leonard's hand, "I
sincerely congratulate you on your newly-acquired dignities, nor less in
the happiness that awaits you there."
"If I do not answer you fittingly, my lord," replied the new-made peer,
"it is not because I do not feel your kindness. But my brain reels. Pray
Heaven my senses may not desert me."
"You must not forget the document you obtained this morning, my lord,"
replied Rochester, endeavouring to divert his thoughts into a new
channel. "The proper moment for consulting it may have arrived."
Lord Argentine, for we shall henceforth give him his title, thrust his
hand into his doublet, and drew forth the parchment. He opened it, and
endeavoured to read it, but a mist swam before his eyes.
"Let me look at it," said Rochester, taking it from him. "It is a deed
of gift," he said, after glancing at it for a moment, "from the late
Lord Argentine--I mean the elder baron--of a large estate in Yorkshire,
which he possessed in right of his wife, to you, my lord, here described
as Leonard Holt, provided you shall marry the Lady Isabella Argentine.
Another piece of good fortune. Again and again, I congratulate you."
"And now," said Charles, "other and less pleasing matters claim our
attention. Let the Lady Isabella be removed, under the charge of Doctor
Hodges, to Whitehall, where apartments shall be provided for her at
once, together with fitting attendants, and where she can remain till
this terrible conflagration is over which, I trust, soon will be, when I
will no longer delay her happiness, but give her away in person.
Chiffinch," he added to the chief page, "see all this is carried into
effect."
"I will, my liege, and right willingly," replied Chiffinch.
"I would send you with her, my lord," pursued Charles to Argentine, "but
I have other duties for you to fulfil. The plan you proposed of
demolishing the houses with gunpowder shall be immediately put into
operation, under your own superintendence."
A chair was now brought, and the Lady Isabella, after a tender parting
with her lover, being placed within it, she was thus transported, under
the charge of Hodges and Chiffinch, to Whitehall, where she arrived in
safety, though not without having sustained some hindrance and
inconvenience.
She had not been gone many minutes, when the conflagration of the
cathedral assumed its most terrific character; the whole of the mighty
roof falling in, and the flames soaring upwards, as before related. Up
to this time, Solomon Eagle had maintained his position at the eastern
end of the roof, and still grasped the stone cross. His situation now
attracted universal attention, for it was evident he must speedily
perish.
"Poor wretch!" exclaimed the king, shuddering, "I fear there is no way
of saving him."
"None, whatever my liege," replied Rochester, "nor do I believe he would
consent to it if there were. But he is again menacing your majesty."
As Rochester spoke, Solomon Eagle shook his arm menacingly at the royal
party, raising it aloft, as if invoking the vengeance of Heaven. He then
knelt down upon the sloping ridge of the roof, as if in prayer, and his
figure, thus seen relieved against the mighty sheet of flame, might have
been taken for an image of Saint John the Baptist carved in stone. Not
an eye in the vast crowd below but was fixed on him. In a few moments he
rose again, and tossing his arms aloft, and shrieking, in a voice
distinctly heard above the awful roar around him, the single word
"_Resurgam!_" flung himself headlong into the flaming abyss. A
simultaneous cry of horror rose from the whole assemblage on beholding
this desperate action.
"The last exclamation of the poor wretch may apply to the cathedral, as
well as to himself," remarked the monarch, to a middle-aged personage,
with a pleasing and highly intellectual countenance, standing near him:
"for the old building shall rise again, like a phoenix from its fires,
with renewed beauty, and under your superintendence, Doctor Christopher
Wren."
The great architect bowed. "I cannot hope to erect such another
structure," he said, modestly; "but I will endeavour to design an
edifice that shall not disgrace your majesty's city."
"You must build me another city at the same time, Doctor Wren," sighed
the king. "Ah!" he added, "is not that Mr. Lilly, the almanac-maker,
whom I see among the crowd?"
"It is," replied Rochester.
"Bid him come to me," replied the king. And the order being obeyed, he
said to the astrologer, "Well, Mr. Lilly, your second prediction has
come to pass. We have had the Plague, and now we have the Fire. You may
thank my clemency that I do not order you to be cast into the flames,
like the poor wretch who has just perished before our eyes, as a wizard
and professor of the black art. How did you obtain information of these
fatal events?"
"By a careful study of the heavenly bodies, sire," replied Lilly, "and
by long and patient calculations, which, if your majesty or any of your
attendants had had leisure or inclination to make, would have afforded
you the same information. _I_ make no pretence to the gift of prophecy,
but this calamity was predicted in the last century."
"Indeed! by whom?" asked the king.
"By Michael Nostradamus," replied Lilly; "his prediction runs thus:--
'La sang du juste à Londres fera faute,
Bruslez par feu, le vingt et trois, les Six;
La Dame antique cherra de place haute,
De même secte plusieurs seront occis.'[1]
And thus I venture to explain it. The 'blood of the just' refers to the
impious and execrable murder of your majesty's royal father of blessed
memory. 'Three-and-twenty and six' gives the exact year of the calamity;
and it may likewise give us, as will be seen by computation hereafter,
the amount of habitations to be destroyed. The 'Ancient Dame'
undoubtedly refers to the venerable pile now burning before us, which,
as it stands in the most eminent spot in the city, clearly 'falls from
its high place.' The expression 'of the same sect' refers not to men,
but churches, of which a large number, I grieve to say it, are already
destroyed."
[Footnote 1:
'The blood of the just shall be wanting in London,
Burnt by fire of three-and-twenty, the Six;
The ancient Dame shall fall from her high place,
Of the same sect many shall be killed.']
"The prophecy is a singular one," remarked Charles, musingly "and you
have given it a plausible interpretation." And for some moments he
appeared lost in reflection. Suddenly rousing himself, he took forth his
tablets, and hastily tracing a few lines upon a leaf, tore it out, and
delivered it with his signet-ring to Lord Argentine. "Take this, my
lord," he said, "to Lord Craven. You will find him at his post in
Tower-street. A band of my attendants shall go with you. Embark at the
nearest stairs you can--those at Blackfriars I should conceive the most
accessible. Bid the men row for their lives. As soon as you join Lord
Craven, commence operations. The Tower must be preserved at all hazards.
Mark me!--at all hazards."
"I understand your majesty," replied Argentine--"your commands shall be
implicitly obeyed. And if the conflagration has not gone too far, I will
answer with my life that I preserve the fortress." And he departed on
his mission.
IX. WHAT BEFEL CHOWLES AND JUDITH IN THE VAULTS OF SAINT FAITH'S.
Having now seen what occurred outside Saint Paul's, we shall proceed to
the vaults beneath it. Chowles and Judith, it has been mentioned, were
descried by Leonard, just before the outbreak of the fire, stealing into
Saint Faith's, and carrying a heavy chest between them. This chest
contained some of the altar-plate, which they had pillaged from the
Convocation House. As they traversed the aisles of Saint Faith's, which
were now filled with books and paper, they could distinctly hear the
raging of the fire without, and Judith, who was far less intimidated
than her companion, observed, "Let it roar on. It cannot injure us."
"I am not so sure of that," replied Chowles, doubtfully, "I wish we had
taken our hoards elsewhere."
"There is no use in wishing that now," rejoined Judith. "And it would
have been wholly impossible to get them out of the city. But have no
fear. The fire, I tell you, cannot reach us. It could as soon burn into
the solid earth as into this place."
"It comforts me to hear you say so," replied Chowles. "And when I think
of those mighty stone floors above us, I feel we are quite safe. No, no,
it can never make its way through them."
Thus discoursing, they reached the charnel at the further end of the
church, where Chowles struck a light, and producing a flask of strong
waters, took a copious draught himself and handed the flask to Judith,
who imitated his example. Their courage being thus stimulated, they
opened the chest, and Chowles was so enraptured with its glittering
contents that he commenced capering round the vault. Recalled to
quietude by a stern reproof from Judith, he opened a secret door in the
wall, and pushed the chest into a narrow passage beyond it. Fearful of
being discovered in their retreat, they took a basket of provisions and
liquor with them, and then closed the door. For some time, they
proceeded along the passage, pushing the chest before them, until they
came to a descent of a few steps, which brought them to a large vault,
half-filled with bags of gold, chests of plate, caskets, and other
plunder. At the further end of this vault was a strong wooden door.
Pushing the chest into the middle of the chamber, Chowles seated himself
upon it, and opening the basket of provisions, took out the bottle of
spirits, and again had recourse to it.
"How comfortable and secure we feel in this quiet place," he said;
"while all above us is burning. I declare I feel quite merry, ha! ha!"
And he forced a harsh and discordant laugh.
"Give me the bottle," rejoined Judith, sternly, "and don't grin like a
death's head. I don't like to see the frightful face you make."
"It's the first time you ever thought my face frightful," replied
Chowles, "and I begin to think you are afraid."
"Afraid!" echoed Judith, forcing a derisive laugh in her turn;
"afraid--of what?"
"Nay, I don't know," replied Chowles; "only I feel a little
uncomfortable. What if we should not be able to breathe here? The very
idea gives me a tightness across the chest."
"Silence!" cried Judith, with a fierceness that effectually insured
obedience to her command.
Chowles again had recourse to the bottle, and deriving a false courage
from it, as before, commenced skipping about the chamber in his usual
fantastical manner. Judith, did not attempt to check him, but remained
with her chin resting upon her hand gazing at him.
"Do you remember the Dance of Death, Judith?" he cried, executing some
of the wildest flourishes he had then performed, "and how I surprised
the Earl of Rochester and his crew?"
"I do," replied Judith, sternly, "and I hope we may not soon have to
perform that dance together in reality."
"It was a merry night," rejoined Chowles, who did not hear what she
said, "a right merry night--and so to-night shall be, in spite of what
is occurring overhead. Ha! ha!" And he took another long pull at the
flask. "I breathe freely now." And he continued his wild flourishes
until he was completely exhausted. He then sat down by Judith, and would
have twined his bony arms round her neck, but she roughly repulsed him.
With a growl of displeasure, he then proceeded to open and examine the
various bags, chests, and caskets piled upon the floor, and the sight of
their contents so excited Judith, that shaking off her misgivings, she
joined him, and they continued opening case after case, glutting their
greedy eyes, until Chowles became aware that the vault was filled with
smoke. As soon as he perceived this, he started to his feet in terror.
"We are lost--we shall be suffocated!" he cried! Judith likewise arose,
and her looks showed that she shared in his apprehensions.
"We must not stay here," cried Chowles; "and yet," he added, with an
agonised look at the rich store before him, "the treasure! the
treasure!"
"Ay, let us, at least, take something with us," rejoined Judith,
snatching up two or three of the most valuable caskets.
While Chowles gazed at the heap before him, hesitating what to select,
the smoke grew so dense around them, that Judith seized his arm, and
dragged him away. "I come--I come!" he cried, snatching up a bag of
gold.
They then threaded the narrow passage, Judith leading the way and
bearing the light. The smoke grew thicker and thicker as they advanced;
but regardless of this, they hurried to the secret door leading to the
charnel. Judith touched the spring, but as she did so, a sheet of flame
burst in and drove her back. Chowles dashed passed her, and with great
presence of mind shut the door, excluding the flame. They then hastily
retraced their steps, feeling that not a moment was to be lost if they
would escape. The air in the vault, thickened by the smoke, had become
so hot that they could scarcely breathe; added to which, to increase
their terror, they heard the most awful cracking of the walls overhead,
as if the whole fabric were breaking asunder to its foundation.
"The cathedral is tumbling upon us! We shall be buried alive!" exclaimed
Chowles, as he listened with indescribable terror to the noise overhead!
"I owe my death to you, wretch!" cried Judith, fiercely. "You persuaded
me to come hither."
"I!" cried Chowles. "It is a lie! You were the person who proposed it.
But for you I should have left our hoards here, and come for them after
the fire was over."
"It is you who lie!" returned Judith, with increased fury, "that was my
proposal."
"Hold your tongue, you she-devil," cried Chowles, "it is you who have
brought me into this strait--and if you do not cease taunting me, I will
silence you for ever."
"Coward and fool!" cried Judith, "I will at least have the satisfaction
of seeing you die before me."
And as she spoke, she rushed towards him, and a desperate struggle
commenced. And thus while the walls were cracking overhead, threatening
them with instant destruction, the two wretches continued their strife,
uttering the most horrible blasphemies and execrations. Judith, being
the stronger of the two, had the advantage, and she had seized her
opponent by the throat with the intention of strangling him, when a most
terrific crash was heard causing her to loose her gripe. The air
instantly became as hot as the breath of a furnace, and both started to
their feet. "What has happened?" gasped Chowles.
"I know not," replied Judith, "and I dare not look down the passage."
"Then I will," replied Chowles, and he advanced a few paces up it, and
then hastily returned, shrieking, "it is filled with boiling lead, and
the stream is flowing towards us."
Scarcely able to credit the extent of the danger, Judith gazed down the
passage, and there beheld a glowing silvery stream trickling slowly
onwards. She saw too well, that if they could not effect their retreat
instantly, their fate was sealed.
"The door of the vault!" she cried, pointing towards it, "where is the
key? where is the key?"
"I have not got it," replied Chowles, distractedly, "I cannot tell where
to find it."
"Then we are lost!" cried Judith, with a terrible execration.
"Not so," replied Chowles, snatching up a pickaxe, "if I cannot unlock
the door, I can break it open."
With this, he commenced furiously striking against it, while Judith, who
was completely horror-stricken, and filled with the conviction that her
last moments were at hand, fell on her knees beside him, and gazing down
the passage, along which she could see the stream of molten lead, now
nearly a foot in depth, gradually advancing, and hissing as it came,
shrieked to Chowles to increase his exertions. He needed no incitement
to do so, but nerved by fear, continued to deal blow after blow against
the door, until at last he effected a small breach just above the lock.
But this only showed him how vain were his hopes, for a stream of fire
and smoke poured through the aperture. Notwithstanding this, he
continued his exertions, Judith shrieking all the time, until the lock
at last yielded. He then threw open the door, but finding the whole
passage involved in flame, was obliged to close it. Judith had now
risen, and their looks at each other at this fearful moment were
terrible in the extreme. Retreating to either side of the cell, they
glared at each other like wild beasts. Suddenly, Judith casting her eyes
to the entrance of the vault, uttered a yell of terror, that caused her
companion to look in that direction, and he perceived that the stream of
molten lead had gained it, and was descending the steps. He made a rush
towards the door at the same time with Judith, and another struggle
ensued, in which he succeeded in dashing her upon the floor. He again
opened the door, but was again driven backwards by the terrific flame,
and perceived that the fiery current had reached Judith, who was
writhing and shrieking in its embrace. Before Chowles could again stir,
it was upon him. With a yell of anguish, he fell forward, and was
instantly stifled in the glowing torrent, which in a short time flooded
the whole chamber, burying the two partners in iniquity, and the whole
of their ill-gotten gains, in its burning waves.
X.
CONCLUSION.
Lord Argentine proceeded, as directed by the king, to the eastern end of
Tower-street, where he found Lord Craven, and having delivered him the
king's missive, and shown him the signet, they proceeded to the western
side of the Tower Dock, and having procured a sufficient number of
miners and engineers, together with a supply of powder from the
fortress, commenced undermining the whole of the row of habitations
called Tower-bank, on the edge of the dock, having first, it is scarcely
necessary to state, taken care to clear them of their inhabitants. The
powder deposited, the trains were fired, and the buildings blown into
the air. At this time the whole of the western side of the Tower Moat
was covered with low wooden houses and sheds, and, mindful of the king's
instructions, Lord Argentine suggested to Lord Craven that they should
be destroyed. The latter acquiescing, they proceeded to their task, and
in a short time the whole of the buildings of whatever description, from
the bulwark-gate to the city postern, at the north of the Tower, and
nearly opposite the Bowyer Tower, were destroyed. Long before this was
accomplished they were joined by the Duke of York, who lent his utmost
assistance to the task, and when night came on, a clear space of at
least a hundred yards in depth, had been formed between the ancient
fortress and the danger with which it was threatened.