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

"Anything is better than that," said Nizza, shuddering.

As soon as she was gone, Chowles took off his long black cloak, and, throwing it over the apprentice, laid him at full length upon the bench, and, assisted by Judith, carried him towards the choir. As they proceeded, Chowles called out, "Make way for one sick of the plague!" and the crowd instantly divided, and gave them free passage. In this way they descended to Saint Faith's, and, shaping their course to the vault, deposited their burden on the very bed lately occupied by the unfortunate sexton.

"He has come here to die," observed Judith to her companion. "His attack is but a slight one, and he might with care recover. But I can bargain with the Earl of Rochester for his removal."

"Take heed how you make such a proposal to his lordship," returned Chowles. "From what I have seen, he is likely to revolt at it."

"Every man is glad to get rid of a rival," rejoined Judith.

"Granted," replied Chowles; "but no man will pay for the riddance when the plague will accomplish it for him for nothing."

"With due attention, I would answer for that youth's recovery," said Judith. "It is not an incurable case, like Mr. Quatremain's. And so Doctor Hodges, when he comes, will pronounce it."

Shortly after this, Nizza Macaseree appeared with a countenance fraught with anxiety, and informed them that Doctor Hodges was from home, and would not probably return till late at night.

"That's unfortunate," said Judith. "Luckily, however, there are other doctors in London, and some who understand the treatment of the plague far better than he does—Sibbald, the apothecary of Clerkenwell, for instance."

"Do you think Sibbald would attend him?" asked Nizza, eagerly.

"To be sure he would," replied Mrs. Malmayns, "if he were paid for it. But you seem greatly interested about this youth. I have been young, and know what effect good looks and a manly deportment have upon our sex. He has won your heart! Ha! ha! You need not seek to disguise it. Your blushes answer for you."

"A truce to this," cried Nizza, whose cheeks glowed with shame and anger.

"You can answer a plain question, I suppose," returned Judith. "Is his life dear to you?"

"Dearer than my own?" replied Nizza.

"I thought as much," returned Judith. "What will you give me to save him?"

"I have nothing," rejoined Nizza, with a troubled look—"nothing but thanks to give you."

"Think again," said Judith. "Girls like you, if they have no money, have generally some trinket—some valuable in their possession."

"That is not my case," said Nizza, bursting into tears. "I never received a present in my life, and never desired one till now."

"But your father must have some money?" said Judith, inquisitively.

"I know not," replied Nizza, "but I will ask him. What sum will content you?"

"Bring all you can," returned Judith, "and I will do my best."

Nizza then departed, while Judith, with the assistance of Chowles, covered Leonard with blankets, and proceeded to light a fire. Long before this, the sick youth was restored to animation. But he was quite light-headed and unconscious of his situation, and rambled about Amabel and her father. After administering such remedies as she thought fit, and as were at hand, Judith sat down with the coffin-maker beside a small table, and entered into conversation with him.

"Well," said Chowles, in an indifferent tone, as he poured out a glass of brandy, "is it to be kill or cure?"

"I have not decided," replied Judith, pledging him.

"I still do not see what gain there would be in shortening his career," observed Chowles.

"If there would be no gain, there would be gratification," replied Judith. "He has offended me."

"If that is the case, I have nothing further to say," returned Chowles. "But you promised the piper's daughter to save him."

"We shall see what she offers," rejoined Judith; "all will depend upon that."

"It is extraordinary," observed Chowles, after a pause, "that while all around us are sick or dying of the pestilence, we should escape contagion."

"We are not afraid of it," replied Judith. "Besides, we are part of the plague ourselves. But I have been attacked, and am, therefore, safe."

"True," replied Chowles; "I had forgotten that. Well, if I fall ill, you Sha'n't nurse me."

"You won't be able to help yourself then," returned Judith.

"Eh!" exclaimed Chowles, shifting uneasily on his seat.

"Don't be afraid," returned Judith, laughing at his alarm. "I'll take every care of you. We are necessary to each other."

"So we are," replied Chowles; "so we are; and if nothing else could, that consideration would make us true to each other."

"Of course," assented Judith. "Let us reap as rich a harvest as we can, and when the scourge is over, we can enjoy ourselves upon the spoils."

"Exactly so," replied Chowles. "My business is daily-hourly on the increase. My men are incessantly employed, and my only fear is that an order will be issued to bury the dead without coffins."

"Not unlikely," replied Mrs. Malmayns. "But there are plenty of ways of getting money in a season like this. If one fails, we must resort to another. I shall make all I can, and in the shortest manner."

"Right!" cried Chowles, with, an atrocious laugh. "Right! ha! ha!"

"I have found out a means of propagating the distemper," pursued Judith, in a low tone, and with a mysterious air, "of inoculating whomsoever I please with the plague-venom. I have tried the experiment on Mr. Quatremain and that youth, and you see how well it has answered in both instances."

"I do," replied Chowles, looking askance at her. "But why destroy the poor minor canon?"

"Because I want to get hold of the treasure discovered by the help of the Mosaical rods in Saint Faith's, which by right belonged to my husband, and which is now in Mr. Quatremain's possession," replied Judith.

"I understand," nodded Chowles.

While they were thus conversing, Nizza Macascree again returned, and informed them that she could not find her father. "He has left the cathedral," she said, "and will not, probably, return till nightfall."

"I am sorry for it, on your account," observed Judith, coldly.

"Why, you will not have the cruelty to neglect the poor young man till then—you will take proper precautions?" exclaimed Nizza.

"Why should I