I'll nod give you de leasd pain—nod de leasd bid."
"But I tell you, you do give me a great deal," rejoined Blaize. "I can't bear it. Your fingers are like iron nails. Keep them away."
"Bless us! did I ever hear de like of dad!" exclaimed Josyna. "Iron nails! if you think so, myn arm zoon, you musd be very ill indeed."
"I am very ill," groaned her son. "I am not long for this world."
"Oh! don't say so, dear Blaize," sobbed Patience, letting fall a plentiful shower of tears on his face. "Don't say so. I can't bear to part with you."
"Then don't survive me," returned Blaize. "But there's little chance of your doing so. You are certain to take the plague."
"I care not what becomes of myself, if I lose you, Blaize," responded Patience, bedewing his countenance with another shower; "but I hope you won't die yet."
"Ah! it's all over with me—all over," rejoined Blaize. "I told Leonard Holt how it would be. I said I should be the next victim. And my words are come true."
"You are as clever as a conjurer," sobbed Patience; "but I wish you hadn't been right in this instance. However, comfort yourself. I'll die with you. We'll be carried to the grave in the same plague-cart."
"That's cold comfort," returned Blaize, angrily. "I beg you'll never mention the plague-cart again. The thought of it makes me shiver all over—oh!" And he uttered a dismal and prolonged groan.
At this juncture, Leonard thought it time to interfere.
"If you are really attacked by the plague, Blaize," he said, advancing, "you must have instant advice. Doctor Hodges is still upstairs with our master. He must see you."
"On no account," returned the porter, in the greatest alarm, and springing to his feet. "I am better—much better. I don't think I am ill at all."
"For the first time, I suspect the contrary," replied the apprentice, "since you are afraid of owning it. But this is not a matter to be trifled with. Doctor Hodges will soon settle the point." And he hurried out of the room to summon the physician.
"Oh! mother!—dear Patience!" roared Blaize, capering about in an ecstasy of terror; "don't let the doctor come near me. Keep me out of his sight. You don't know what horrid things are done to those afflicted with my complaint. But I do,—for I have informed myself on the subject. Their skins are scarified, and their sores blistered, lanced, cauterized, and sometimes burned away with a knob of red-hot iron, called 'the button.'"
"But iv id is necessary, myn goed Blaize, you musd submid," replied his mother. "Never mind de hod iron or de lance, or de blisder, iv dey make you well. Never mind de pain. It will soon be over."
"Soon over!" bellowed Blaize, sinking into a chair. "Yes, I feel it will. But not in the way you imagine. This Doctor Hodges will kill me. He is fond of trying experiments, and will make me his subject. Don't let him—for pity's sake, don't."
"But I musd, myn lief jonger," replied his mother, "I musd."
"Oh, Patience!" supplicated Blaize, "you were always fond of me. My mother has lost her natural affection. She wishes to get rid of me. Don't take part with her. My sole dependence is upon you."
"I will do all I can for you, dear Blaize," blubbered the kitchen-maid.
"But it is absolutely necessary you should see the doctor."
"Then I won't stay here another minute," vociferated Blaize. "I'll die in the street rather than under his hands."
And bursting from them, he would have made good his retreat, but for the entrance of Leonard and Hodges.
At the sight of the latter, Blaize ran back and endeavoured to screen himself behind Patience.
"Is this the sick man?" remarked Hodges, scarcely able to refrain from laughing. "I don't think he can be in such imminent danger as you led me to suppose."
"No, I am better—much better, thank you," returned Blaize, still keeping Patience between him and the doctor. "The very sight of you has frightened away the plague."
"Indeed!" exclaimed Hodges, smiling, "then it is the most marvellous cure I ever yet effected. But, come forward, young man, and let us see what is the matter with you."
"You neither lance nor cauterize an incipient tumour, do you, doctor?" demanded Blaize, without abandoning his position.
"Eh, day!" exclaimed Hodges, "have we one of the faculty here? I see how it is, friend. You have been reading some silly book about the disease, and have frightened yourself into the belief that you have some of its symptoms. I hope you haven't been doctoring yourself, likewise. What have you taken?"
"It would be difficult to say what he has not taken," remarked Leonard. "His stomach must be like an apothecary's shop."
"I have only used proper precautions," rejoined Blaize, testily.
"And what may those be—eh?" inquired the doctor. "I am curious to learn."
"Come from behind Patience," cried Leonard, "and don't act the fool longer, or I will see whether your disorder will not yield to a sound application of the cudgel."
"Don't rate him thus, good Master Leonard," interposed Patience. "He is very ill—he is, indeed."
"Then let him have a chance of getting better," returned the apprentice. "If he is ill, he has no business near you. Come from behind her, Blaize, I say. Now speak," he added, as the porter crept tremblingly forth, "and let us hear what nostrums you have swallowed. I know you have dosed yourself with pills, electuaries, balsams, tinctures, conserves, spirits, elixirs, decoctions, and every other remedy, real or imaginary. What else have you done?"
"What Dr. Hodges, I am sure, will approve," replied Blaize, confidently. "I have rubbed myself with vinegar, oil of sulphur, extract of tar, and spirit of turpentine."
"What next?" demanded Hodges.
"I placed saltpetre, brimstone, amber, and juniper upon a chafing-dish to fumigate my room," replied Blaize; "but the vapour was so overpowering, I could not bear it."
"I should be surprised if you could," replied the doctor. "Indeed, it is astonishing to me, if you have taken half the remedies Leonard says you have, and which, taken in this way, are no remedies at all, since they counteract each other—that you are still alive. But let us see what is the matter with you. What ails you particularly?"
"Nothing," replied Blaize, trembling; "I am quite well."
"He complains of a fixed pain near de haard, docdor," interposed his mother, "and says he has a large dumour on his side. But he wond let me examine id."
"That's a bad sign," observed Hodges, shaking his head. "I am afraid it's not all fancy, as I at first supposed. Have you felt sick of late, young man?"
"Not of late," replied Blaize, becoming as white as ashes; "but I do now."
"Another bad symptom," rejoined the doctor. "Take off your doublet and open your shirt."
"Do as the doctor bids you," said Leonard, seeing that Blaize hesitated, "or I apply the cudgel."
"Ah! bless my life! what's this?" cried Hodges, running his hand down the left side of the porter, and meeting with a large lump. "Can it be a carbuncle?"
"Yes, it's a terrible carbuncle," replied Blaize; "but don't cauterize it, doctor."
"Let me look at it," cried Hodges, "and I shall then know how to proceed."
And as he spoke, he tore open the porter's shirt, and a silver ball, about as large as a pigeon's egg, fell to the ground. Leonard picked it up, and found it so hot that he could scarcely hold it.
"Here is the terrible carbuncle," he cried, with a laugh, in which all the party, except Blaize, joined.
"It's my pomander-box," said the latter. "I filled it with a mixture of citron-peel, angelica seed, zedoary, yellow saunders, aloes, benzoin, camphor, and gum-tragacanth, moistened with spirit of roses; and after placing