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

supposed, his curiosity was not gratified. As the clock struck eleven, Leonard thrust a sword into his girdle, and arming himself furthermore with his staff, proceeded towards the door, and bade Blaize lock it after him.

"I shall probably be back in a couple of hours," he said, as he went forth. "You must sit up for me."

"I wonder where he is going!" thought Blaize, "From his gloomy looks, and the weapon he has taken with him, I should judge he is about to murder some one—perhaps the Earl of Rochester. It must be prevented."

With this view, though perhaps rather more influenced by curiosity than any better feeling, the porter waited a few seconds to allow the apprentice to get out of sight, and then locking the door outside, put the key in his pocket, and followed him. The night was profoundly dark, but he had noticed the direction taken by Leonard, and running noiselessly along the street, soon perceived him a little in advance. Regulating his pace by that of the apprentice, and keeping about fifty yards behind him, he tracked his course along several streets, until he saw him pass through the second postern in the city wall, near Moorgate.

Here he debated with himself whether to proceed further or turn back; but at length, curiosity got the best of his fears, and he went on. A few steps brought him into the open fields, and fancying he saw Leonard at a little distance before him, he hurried on in that direction. But he soon found he had been deceived by the stump of a tree, and began to fear he must have taken the wrong course. He looked around in vain for some object to guide him. The darkness was so profound that he could see nothing, and he set off again at random, and not without much self-reproach and misgiving. At last, he reached a hedge, and continued to skirt it, until he perceived through the bushes the light of a lantern in the adjoining field. He immediately called out, but at the cry the light disappeared. This did not prevent him from making towards the spot where he had seen it; but he had not proceeded far when he was forcibly seized by some unseen person, thrown on the ground, and a drawn sword—for he felt the point—placed at his throat.

"Utter a cry, and it is your last," cried a stern voice. "Where is he?"

"Who—who?" demanded Blaize, half dead with terror.

"He whom you appointed to meet," replied the unknown.

"I appointed to meet no one," rejoined Blaize.

"Liar!" exclaimed the other; "if you do not instantly lead me to him, I will cut your throat."

"I will lead you wherever you please, if you will only let me get up," rejoined Blaize, with difficulty repressing a cry.

"By the daughters of Nox and Acheron!" exclaimed a voice which sounded like music in the porter's ears, "I think you are mistaken in your man, my lord. It does not sound like the apprentice's voice."

"It is not the apprentice's voice, good Major Pillichody," rejoined the porter. "It is mine, your friend—Blaize's."

"Blaize!" exclaimed Pillichody, unmasking a dark lantern, and revealing the terror-stricken countenance of the porter; "so it is. In the devil's name, what are you doing here?"

"The devil himself, who put it into my head to come, only knows," replied Blaize; "but I followed Leonard Holt."

"Which way did he take?" asked the person who had assailed him.

"I cannot exactly say," replied Blaize, "but he seemed to go straight into the fields."

"He is no doubt gone to the plague-pit," replied the other. "You are now at liberty," he added to Blaize, "and I counsel you to make the best of your way home. Say nothing to your master of what has occurred. The city walls lie in that direction."

Overjoyed to be released, Blaize ran off as fast as his legs could carry him, and never stopped till he reached Moorgate. Meanwhile, Leonard had reached the place of meeting. As he stood by the rail surrounding the plague-pit, he thought of Mr. Bloundel's singular dream, and almost hoping to be similarly favoured, flung himself on his knees, and besought Amabel, if it were possible, to appear to him. But his entreaties produced no result. The chill blast whistled past him, and, mindful of what had been told him, he was fain to interpret this into an answer to his request. The night was bitterly cold, and Leonard, whose limbs were almost stiffened by long kneeling, walked round and round the enclosure at a quick pace to put his blood into circulation. As the hour of midnight was tolled forth by the neighbouring churches, he heard footsteps, and could just detect a figure advancing towards him.

"Are you there?" was asked in the voice of Thirlby. Leonard replied in the affirmative, and the other instantly joined him.

"Have you mentioned our meeting to any one?" inquired Leonard. "I ask, because I was warned by the Earl of Rochester not to attend it."

"Strange!" exclaimed Thirlby, musingly. "However, do not let us waste time. I am about to leave London, perhaps this country—for ever. But I could not depart without an interview with you. You are aware of my strong attachment to my poor lost child. My daughter Isabella now supplies her place in my heart. She is the only being I love on earth, for my son has alienated himself from my affections. All I desire is to see her happy. This, I find, can only be accomplished in one way."

Here he paused for a moment, but as Leonard made no remark, he proceeded. "Why should I hesitate to declare it," he said, "since it was for that object I brought you hither? She loves you—devotedly loves you—and if her wishes were opposed, I should tremble for the consequences. Now listen to me. Situated as you are, you never can wed her. I will, however, point out a means by which you can raise yourself to distinction in a short time, and so entitle yourself to claim her hand. I will supply you with money—more than you can require—will place you at court—near the king's person—and if you act under my direction, your rise is certain. I have extorted a promise to this effect from my own son. I told him my object, and that if he did not make your fortune, I could ruin him by revealing myself. I may, perhaps, pay the penalty of my crime on the scaffold; but I may also escape. In the latter case, my reappearance would be fatal to him. He has consented to cooperate with me, to watch over your fortunes, and, as soon as you have attained sufficient eminence, to bestow his sister upon you. Now do you understand?"

"I do," replied Leonard; "and I understand also against whom the Earl of Rochester warned me."

"And you consent," demanded Thirlby.

Leonard, was about to answer, when he felt a light and trembling hand placed upon his own. "Do not answer inconsiderately, Leonard," said a low, sweet voice, which he recognised as that of the Lady Isabella; "I am here to receive your determination."

"I am glad of it," replied the apprentice. "The deep devotion you have displayed towards me deserves to be requited. I will strive to render myself worthy of you, and I feel that by so doing I shall best fulfil the