"My calculations are, that the plague will be at its worst in August and September, and will not cease entirely till the beginning of December," observed Booker, laying aside his pen.
"And I doubt not you are right, sir," said Lilly, "for your calculations are ever most exact."
"My labour is not thrown away, Mr. Lilly," cried Quatremain, who had finished his task at the same time. "I have discovered what I have long suspected, that treasure is hidden in Saint Paul's Cathedral. Mercury is posited in the north angle of the fourth house; the dragon's tail is likewise within it; and as Sol is the significator, it must be gold."
"True," replied Lilly.
"Furthermore," proceeded Quatremain, "as the sign is earthy, the treasure must be buried in the vaults."
"Undoubtedly," replied Booker.
"I am all impatience to search for it," said Quatremain. "Let us go there at once, and make trial of the mosaical rods."
"With all my heart," replied Lilly. "My lord," he added to Rochester, "I must pray you to excuse me. You have heard what claims my attention."
"I have," returned the earl, "and should like to accompany you in the quest, if you will permit me."
"You must address yourself to Mr. Quatremain," rejoined Lilly. "If he consents, I can make no objection."
The minor canon, on being appealed to, signified his acquiescence, and after some slight preparation, Lilly produced two hazel rods, and the party set out.
A few minutes' walking brought them to the northern entrance of the cathedral, where they speedily aroused the poor verger, who began to fancy he was to have no rest that night. On learning their purpose, however, he displayed the utmost alacrity, and by Quatremain's directions went in search of his brother-verger, and a mason, who, being employed at the time in making repairs in the chantries, lodged within the cathedral.
This occasioned a delay of a few minutes, during which Rochester and Etherege had an opportunity, like that enjoyed a short time before by Leonard Holt, of beholding the magnificent effect of the columned aisles by moonlight. By this time the other verger, who was a young and active man, and the mason, arrived, and mattocks, spades, and an iron bar being procured, and a couple of torches lighted, they descended to Saint Faith's.
Nothing more picturesque can be conceived than the effect of the torchlight on the massive pillars and low-browed roof of the subterranean church. Nor were the figures inappropriate to the scene. Lilly, with the mosaical rods in his hand, which he held at a short distance from the floor, moving first to one point, then to another; now lingering within the gloomy nave, now within the gloomier aisles; the grave minor canon, who kept close beside him, and watched his movements with the most intense anxiety; Booker, with his venerable head uncovered, and his bald brow reflecting the gleam of the torches; the two court gallants in their rich attire; and the vergers and their comrade, armed with the implements for digging;—all constituted a striking picture. And as Rochester stepped aside to gaze at it, he thought he had never beheld a more singular scene.
Hitherto, no success had attended the searchers. The mosaical rods had continued motionless. At length, however, Lilly reached a part of the wall where a door appeared to have been stopped up, and playing the rods near it, they turned one over the other.
"The treasure is here!" he exclaimed. "It is hidden beneath this flag."
Instantly, all were in action. Quatremain called to his assistants to bring their mattocks and the iron bar. Rochester ran up and tendered his aid; Etherege did the same; and in a few moments the flag was forced from its position.
On examination, it seemed as if the ground beneath it had been recently disturbed, though it was carefully trodden down. But without stopping to investigate the matter, the mason and the younger verger commenced digging. When they were tired, Lilly and Quatremain took their places, and in less than an hour they had got to the depth of upwards of four feet. Still nothing had been found, and Lilly was just about to relinquish his spade to the mason, when, plunging it more deeply into the ground, it struck against some hard substance.
"It is here—we have it!" he cried, renewing his exertions.
Seconded by Quatremain, they soon cleared off the soil, and came to what appeared to be a coffin or a large chest. Both then got out of the pit to consider how they should remove the chest; the whole party were discussing the matter, when a tremendous crash, succeeded by a terrific yell, was heard at the other end of the church, and a ghastly and half-naked figure, looking like a corpse broken from the tomb, rushed forward with lightning swiftness, and shrieking—"My treasure!—my treasure!—you shall not have it!"—thrust aside the group, and plunged into the excavation.
When the bystanders recovered sufficient courage to drag the unfortunate sexton out of the pit, they found him quite dead.
IX.
THE MINIATURE
According to his promise, Doctor Hodges visited the grocer's house early on the following day, and the favourable opinion he had expressed respecting Stephen Bloundel was confirmed by the youth's appearance. The pustule had greatly increased in size; but this the doctor looked upon as a good sign: and after applying fresh poultices, and administering a hot posset-drink, he covered the patient with blankets, and recommending as much tranquillity as possible, he proceeded, at Bloundel's request, to ascertain the state of health of the rest of the family. Satisfied that all the household (including Blaize, who, being a little out of order from the quantity of medicine he had swallowed, kept his bed) were uninfected, he went upstairs, and finding the two boys quite well, and playing with their little sister Christiana, in the happy unconsciousness of childhood, he tapped at the door of Mrs. Bloundel's chamber, and was instantly admitted. Amabel did not raise her eyes at his entrance, but continued the employment on which she was engaged. Her mother, however, overwhelmed him with inquiries as to the sufferer, and entreated him to prevail upon her husband to let her take his place at the sick bed.
"I cannot accede to your request, madam," replied Hodges; "because I think the present arrangement the best that could be adopted."
"And am I not to see poor Stephen again?" cried Mrs. Bloundel, bursting into tears.
"I hope you will soon see him again, and not lose sight of him for many years to come," replied the doctor. "As far as I can judge, the danger is over, and, aided by your husband's care and watchfulness, I have little doubt of bringing the youth round."
"You reconcile me to the deprivation, doctor," rejoined Mrs. Bloundel; "but can you insure my husband against the distemper?"
"I can insure no one against contagion," replied Hodges; "but there is much in his favour. He has no fear, and takes every needful precaution. You must hope for the best. I think it right to tell you, that you will be separated from him for a month."
"Separated from my husband for a month, doctor!" cried Mrs. Bloundel. "I must see him to-day. I have something of importance to say to him."
At this point of the conversation Amabel for the first time looked up. Her eyes were red and inflamed with weeping, and her looks betrayed great internal suffering.
"You cannot see my father, mother," she said in a broken and supplicatory tone.
"But she can write to him, or send a message by me," rejoined Hodges. "I will deliver it when I go downstairs."
"What my mother has to say cannot be confided to a third party, sir," returned Amabel.
"Better defer it, then," said the doctor, who, as he looked hard at her, and saw the colour mount to her cheeks, began to suspect something of the truth. "Whatever you have to say, Mrs. Bloundel, may be very well delayed; for the house is now closed, with a watchman at the door, and will continue so for a month to come. No one can quit it, except members of our profession, searchers, nurses, and