Old Saint Paul's: A Tale of the Plague and the Fire by William Harrison Ainsworth (recommended books to read .TXT) 📕

musing on what had just occurred, and scarcely conscious whither he was going, he threw himself down on the grass, and fell asleep. He awoke after some time much refreshed, and finding he was considerably nearer Bishopsgate than any other entrance into the city, determined to make for it. A few minutes brought him to a row of houses without the walls, none of which appeared to have escaped infection, and passing them, he entered the city gate. As he proceeded along the once-crowded but now utterly-deserted thoroughfare that opened upon him, he could scarcely believe he was in a spot which had once been the busiest of the busy haunts of men—so silent, so desolate did it appear! On reaching Cornhill, he found it equally deserted. The Exchange was closed, and as Leonard looked at its barred gates, a saddening train of reflection passed through his mind. His head declined upon his breast, and he continued lost in a mournful reverie until he was roused by a hand laid upon his shoulder, and starting—for such a salutation at this season was alarming—he looked round, and beheld Solomon Eagle.

"You are looking upon that structure," said the enthusiast, "and are thinking how much it is changed. Men who possess boundless riches imagine their power above that of their Maker, and suppose they may neglect and defy him. But they are mistaken. Where are now the wealthy merchants who used to haunt those courts and chambers?—why do they not come here as of old?—why do they not buy and sell, and send their messengers and ships to the farthest parts of the world? Because the Lord hath smitten them and driven them forth—'From the least of them even to the greatest of them,' as the prophet Jeremiah saith, 'every one has been given to covetousness.' The balances of deceit have been in their hands. They have cozened their neighbours, and greedily gained from them, and will find it true what the prophet Ezekiel hath written, that 'the Lord will pour out his indignation upon them, and consume them with the fire of his wrath.' Yea, I tell you, unless they turn from their evil ways—unless they cast aside the golden idol they now worship, and set up the Holy One of Israel in its stead, a fire will be sent to consume them, and that pile which they have erected as a temple to their god shall be burnt to the ground."

Leonard's heart was too full to make any answer, and the enthusiast, after a brief pause, again addressed him. "Have you seen Doctor Hodges pass this way? I am in search of him."

"On what account?" asked Leonard anxiously. "His advice, I trust, is not needed on behalf of any one in whom I am interested."

"No matter," replied Solomon Eagle, in a sombre tone; "have you seen him?"

"I have not," rejoined the apprentice; "but he is probably at Saint Paul's."

"I have just left the cathedral, and was told he had proceeded to some house near Cornhill," rejoined the enthusiast.

"If you have been there, you can perhaps tell me how my master's porter, Blaize Shotterel, is getting on," said Leonard.

"I can," replied the enthusiast. "I heard one of the chirurgeons say that Doctor Hodges had pronounced him in a fair way of recovery. But I must either find the doctor or go elsewhere. Farewell!"

"I will go with you in search of him," said Leonard.

"No, no; you must not—shall not," cried Solomon Eagle.

"Wherefore not?" asked the apprentice.

"Do not question me, but leave me," rejoined the enthusiast.

"Do you know aught of Amabel—of her retreat?" persisted Leonard, who had a strange misgiving that the enthusiast's errand in some way referred to her.

"I do," replied Solomon Eagle, gloomily; "but I again advise you not to press me further."

"Answer me one question at least," cried Leonard. "Is she with the Earl of Rochester?"

"She is," replied Solomon Eagle; "but I shall allay your fears in that respect when I tell you she is sick of the plague."

Leonard heard nothing more, for, uttering a wild shriek, he fell to the ground insensible. He was aroused to consciousness by a sudden sense of strangulation, and opening his eyes, beheld two dark figures bending over him, one of whom was kneeling on his chest. A glance showed him that this person was Chowles; and instantly comprehending what was the matter, and aware that the coffin-maker was stripping him previously to throwing him into the dead-cart, which was standing hard by, he cried aloud, and struggled desperately to set himself free. Little opposition was offered; for, on hearing the cry, Chowles quitted his hold, and retreating to a short distance, exclaimed, with a look of surprise, "Why, the fellow is not dead, after all!"

"I am neither dead, nor likely to die, as you shall find to your cost, rascal, if you do not restore me the clothes you have robbed me of," cried Leonard, furiously. And chancing to perceive a fork, dropped by Chowles in his hasty retreat, he snatched it up, and, brandishing it over his head, advanced towards him. Thus threatened, Chowles tossed him a rich suit of livery.

"These are not mine," said the apprentice, gazing at the habiliments.

"They are better than your own," replied Chowles, "and therefore you ought to be glad of the exchange. But give me them back again. I have no intention of making you a present."

"This is the livery of the Earl of Rochester," cried Leonard.

"To be sure it is," replied Chowles, with a ghastly smile. "One of his servants is just dead."

"Where is the profligate noble?" cried Leonard, eagerly.

"There is the person who owned these clothes," replied Chowles, pointing to the dead-cart. "You had better ask him."

"Where is the Earl of Rochester, I say, villain?" cried Leonard, menacingly.

"How should I know?" rejoined Chowles. "Here are your clothes," he added, pushing them towards him.

"I will have an answer," cried Leonard.

"Not from me," replied Chowles. And hastily snatching up the livery, he put the cart in motion, and proceeded on his road. Leonard would have followed him, but the state of his attire did not permit him to do so. Having dressed himself, he hastened to the cathedral, where he soon found the attendant who had charge of Blaize.

"Doctor Hodges has been with him," said the man, in reply to his inquiries after the porter, "and has good hopes of him. But the patient is not entirely satisfied with the treatment he has received, and wishes to try some remedies of his own. Were his request granted, all would soon be over with him."

"That I am sure of," replied Leonard. "But let us go to him."

"You must not heed his complaints," returned the attendant. "I assure you he is doing as well as possible; but he is so dreadfully frightened at a trifling operation which Doctor Hodges finds it necessary to perform upon him, that we have been obliged to fasten him to the bed."

"Indeed!" exclaimed Leonard, suspiciously. "Has Judith Malmayns had no