"You will pardon the liberty I have taken in sending for you," he said, "when I explain that I have done so to offer you counsel."
"I am as much at a loss to understand what counsel you can have to offer, sir, as to guess why you are here," she replied.
"Amabel," returned Bottesham, in a low tone, but altering his voice, and slightly raising his spectacles so as to disclose his features; "it is I—Maurice Wyvil."
"Ah!" she exclaimed, in the utmost astonishment.
"I told you we should meet again," he rejoined; "and I have kept my word."
"Think not to deceive me, my lord," she returned, controlling her emotion by a powerful effort. "I am aware you are not Maurice Wyvil, but the Earl of Rochester. Your love is as false as your character. Mistress Mallet is the real object of your regards. You see I am acquainted with your perfidy."
"Amabel, you are deceived," replied Rochester. "On my soul, you are. When I have an opportunity of explaining myself more fully, I will prove to you that I was induced by the king, for an especial purpose, to pay feigned addresses to the lady you have named. But I never loved her. You alone are the possessor of my heart, and shall be the sharer of my title. You shall be Countess of Rochester."
"Could I believe you?" she cried.
"You may believe me," he answered. "Do not blight my hopes and your own happiness a second time. Your father is about to shut up his house for a twelvemonth, if the plague lasts so long. This done, we shall meet no more, for access to you will be impossible. Do not hesitate, or you will for ever rue your irresolution."
"I know not what to do," cried Amabel, distractedly.
"Then I will decide for you," replied the earl, grasping her hand.
"Come!"
While this was passing, Furbisher, or rather, as will be surmised, Pillichody, had taken Blaize aside, and engaged his attention by dilating upon the efficacy of a roasted onion filled with treacle in the expulsion of the plague. Patience stationed herself near the door, not with a view of interfering with the lovers, but rather of assisting them; and at the very moment that the earl seized his mistress's hand, and would have drawn her forward, she ran towards them, and hastily whispered, "Leonard Holt is coming downstairs."
"Ah! I am lost!" cried Amabel.
"Fear nothing," said the earl. "Keep near me, and I will soon dispose of him."
As he spoke, the apprentice entered the kitchen, and, greatly surprised by the appearance of the strangers, angrily demanded from Blaize who they were.
"They are two doctors come to give me advice respecting the plague," stammered the porter.
"How did they get into the house?" inquired Leonard.
"I let them in through the back door," replied Blaize.
"Then let them out by the same way," rejoined the apprentice. "May I ask what you are doing here?" he added, to Amabel.
"What is that to you, fellow?" cried Rochester, in his assumed voice.
"Much, as you shall find, my lord," replied the apprentice; "for, in spite of your disguise, I know you. Quit the house instantly with your companion, or I will give the alarm, and Amabel well knows what the consequences will be."
"You must go, my lord," she replied.
"I will not stir unless you accompany me," said Rochester.
"Then I have no alternative," rejoined Leonard. "You know your father's determination—I would willingly spare you, Amabel."
"Oh, goodness! what will become of us?" cried Patience—"if there isn't Mr. Bloundel coming downstairs."
"Amabel," said Leonard, sternly, "the next moment decides your fate. If the earl departs, I will keep your secret."
"You hear that, my lord," she cried; "I command you to leave me."
And disengaging herself from him, and hastily passing her father, who at that moment entered the kitchen, she rushed upstairs.
On hearing the alarm of the grocer's approach, Pillichody took refuge in a cupboard, the door of which stood invitingly open, so that Bloundel only perceived the earl.
"What is the matter?" he cried, gazing around him. "Whom have we here?"
"It is a quack doctor, whom Blaize has been consulting about the plague," returned Leonard.
"See him instantly out of the house," rejoined the grocer, angrily, "and take care he never enters it again. I will have no such charlatans here."
Leonard motioned Rochester to follow him, and the latter reluctantly obeyed.
As soon as Bloundel had retired, Leonard, who had meanwhile provided himself with his cudgel, descended to the kitchen, where he dragged Pillichody from his hiding-place, and conducted him to the back door. But he did not suffer him to depart without belabouring him soundly. Locking the door, he then went in search of Blaize, and administered a similar chastisement to him.
IV.
THE TWO WATCHMEN
On the day following the events last related, as Leonard Holt was standing at the door of the shop,—his master having just been called out by some important business,—a man in the dress of a watchman, with a halberd in his hand, approached him, and inquired if he was Mr. Bloundel's apprentice.
Before returning an answer, Leonard looked hard at the newcomer, and thought he had never beheld so ill-favoured a person before. Every feature in his face was distorted. His mouth was twisted on one side, his nose on the other, while his right eyebrow was elevated more than an inch above the left; added to which he squinted intolerably, had a long fell of straight sandy hair, a sandy beard and moustache, and a complexion of the colour of brickdust.
"An ugly dog," muttered Leonard to himself, as he finished his scrutiny; "what can he want with me? Suppose I should be Mr. Bloundel's apprentice," he added, aloud, "what then, friend?"
"Your master has a beautiful daughter, has he not?" asked the ill-favoured watchman.
"I answer no idle questions," rejoined Leonard, coldly.
"As you please," returned the other, in an offended tone. "A plan to carry her off has accidentally come to my knowledge. But, since incivility is all I am likely to get for my pains in coming to acquaint you with it, e'en find it out yourself."
"Hold!" cried the apprentice, detaining him; "I meant no offence. Step indoors for a moment. We can converse there more freely."
The watchman, who, notwithstanding his ill-looks, appeared to be a good-natured fellow, was easily appeased. Following the apprentice into the shop, on the promise of a handsome reward, he instantly commenced his relation.
"Last night," he said, "I was keeping watch at the door of Mr. Brackley, a saddler in Aldermanbury, whose house having been attacked by the pestilence is now shut up, when I observed two persons, rather singularly attired, pass me. Both were dressed like old men, but neither their gait nor tone of voice corresponded with their garb."
"It must have been the Earl of Rochester and his companion," remarked Leonard.
"You are right," replied the other; "for I afterwards heard one of them addressed by that title. But to proceed. I was so much struck by the strangeness