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

"I know nothing about him," replied the man, reluctantly. "I believe he always appears at daybreak on some part of the roof, but I am as ignorant as yourself where he hides himself. The door of the winding staircase leading to the central tower is open. You can ascend it, and search for him, if you think proper."

Acting upon the suggestion, Leonard mounted to the belfry, and from thence to the summit of the tower. Having indulged himself with a brief survey of the glorious view around, he descended, and glanced into every cell and chamber as he passed, in the hopes of meeting with the enthusiast, but he was disappointed. At length, as he got about half-way down, he felt his arm forcibly grasped, and, instantly conjecturing who it was, offered no resistance. Without uttering a word, the person who had seized him dragged him up a few steps, pushed aside a secret door, which closed behind them with a hollow clangour, and leading him along a dark narrow passage, opened another door, and they emerged upon the roof. He then found that his suspicion was correct, and that his mysterious guide was no other than Solomon Eagle.

"I am glad to find you have recovered from the pestilence," said the enthusiast, regarding him with a friendly glance; "it proves you are favoured by Heaven. I saw you in the open space before the cathedral this morning, and instantly recognised you. I was in the belfry when you descended, but you did not perceive me, and I wished to be certain you were alone before I discovered myself."

"You have ceased to roam the streets at night, and rouse the slumbering citizens to repentance?" asked Leonard.

"For the present I have," returned Solomon Eagle. "But I shall appear again when I am required. But you shall now learn why I have brought you hither. Look along those streets," he added, pointing to the thoroughfares opening in different directions. "What see you?"

"I see men piling heaps of wood and coals at certain distances, as if they were preparing bonfires," replied Leonard. "And yet it cannot be. This is no season for rejoicing."

"It has been supposed that the lighting of many thousand fires at once will purify the air," replied Solomon Eagle; "and therefore the Lord Mayor has given orders that heaps of fuel shall be placed before every house in every street in the city, and that all these heaps shall be kindled at a certain hour. But it will be of no avail. The weather is now fine and settled, and the sky cloudless. But the offended Deity will cause the heaviest rain to descend, and extinguish their fires. No—the way to avert the pestilence is not by fire, but by prayer and penitence, by humiliation and fasting. Let this sinful people put on sackcloth and ashes. Let them beseech God, by constant prayer, to forgive them, and they may prevail, but not otherwise."

"And when are these fires to be lighted?" asked the apprentice.

"To-night, at midnight," replied Solomon Eagle.

He then took Leonard by the hand, and led him back the same way he had brought him. On reaching the spiral staircase, he said, "If you desire to behold a sight, such as a man has seldom witnessed, ascend to the summit of this tower an hour after midnight, when all these fires are lighted. A small door on the left of the northern entrance shall be left open. It will conduct you to the back of the choir, and you must then find your way hither as well as you can."

Murmuring his thanks, Leonard hurried down the spiral staircase, and quitting the cathedral, proceeded in the direction of Wood-street. Preparations were everywhere making for carrying the Lord Mayor's orders into effect; and such was the beneficial result anticipated, that a general liveliness prevailed, on reaching his master's residence, he found him at the shutter, curious to know what was going forward; and having informed him, the grocer immediately threw him down money to procure wood and coal.

"I have but little faith in the experiment," he said, "but the Lord Mayor's injunctions must be obeyed."

With the help of Dallison, who had now arrived, Leonard Holt soon procured a large heap of fuel, and placed it in the middle of the street. The day was passed in executing other commissions for the grocer, and he took his meals in the hutch with the porter. Time appeared to pass with unusual slowness, and not he alone, but anxious thousands, awaited the signal to kindle their fires. The night was profoundly dark and sultry, and Leonard could not help thinking that the enthusiast's prediction would be verified, and that rain would fall. But these gloomy anticipations vanished as the hour of midnight was tolled forth by the neighbouring clocks of Saint Michael's and Saint Alban's. Scarcely had the strokes died away, when Leonard seized a light and set fire to the pile. Ten thousand other piles were kindled at the same moment, and in an instant the pitchy darkness was converted into light as bright as that of noonday.

Anxious to behold this prodigious illumination at its best, Leonard Holt committed the replenishing of the pile and the custody of the house to Dallison, and hastened to Saint Paul's. A great fire was burning at each angle of the cathedral, but without pausing to notice the effect of the flames upon the walls of the building, he passed through the door to which he had been directed, and hastening to the spiral staircase beyond the choir, ascended it with swift steps. He did not pause till he reached the summit of the tower, and there, indeed, a wondrous spectacle awaited him. The whole city seemed on fire, and girded with a flaming belt—for piles were lighted at certain distances along the whole line of walls. The groups of dark figures collected round the fires added to their picturesque effect; and the course of every street could be traced by the reflection of the flames on the walls and gables of the houses. London Bridge was discernible from the fires burning upon it—and even upon the river braziers were lighted on all the larger craft, which cast a ruddy glow upon the stream.

After gazing at this extraordinary sight for some time, Leonard began to descend. As yet he had seen nothing of Solomon Eagle, and searching for him in vain in the belfry, he quitted the cathedral. From a knot of persons gathered round one of the fires he learnt that the enthusiast was addressing the crowd at the west side of the building, and proceeding thither he perceived him standing on the edge of the balustrade of the south-western tower, surmounting the little church of Saint Gregory. His brazier was placed on one of the buttresses, and threw its light on the mighty central tower of the fabric, and on a large clock-face immediately beneath. Solomon Eagle was evidently denouncing the city, but his words were lost in the distance. As he proceeded, a loud clap of thunder pealed overhead.

"It comes—it comes!" cried the enthusiast, in a voice that could be distinctly heard in the death-like stillness that followed the thunder. "The wrath of Heaven is at hand."

As he spoke, a bright flash cut the air, and a bolt struck down, one of the pinnacles of the great tower. Flash after flash followed in quick succession, and the enthusiast, who seemed wrapped in flame, extended his arms towards Heaven, as if beseeching a further display of its vengeance. Suddenly the lightning ceased to flash and the thunder to roll. A few heavy drops of rain fell. These were succeeded by a