LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

      "Leonard," returned Amabel, "I am not insensible to your good qualities, and no one can more truly esteem you than I do. Nay, till I unfortunately saw the Earl of Rochester, whom I knew not as such, I might have loved you. But now I cannot call my heart my own. I have not the affection you deserve to bestow upon you. If I can obliterate this treacherous man's image from my memory—and Heaven, I trust, will give me strength to do so—I will strive to replace it with your own."

      "That is all I ask," cried Leonard, dropping on his knee before her, and pressing his lips to her hand.

      "Nothing would make me happier than to see you united, my children," said Mrs. Bloundel, bending affectionately over them.

      "And I would do anything to make you happy, dear mother," replied Amabel, gently withdrawing her hand, from that of the apprentice.

      "Before I leave you," said Leonard, rising, "I must give you this note. I found it lying before your chamber door as I passed this morning. How it came there I know not, but I can give a shrewd guess as to the writer. I ought to tell you, that but for what has just occurred, I should not have delivered it to you."

      "It is from Wyvil—I mean Rochester," said Amabel, taking the note with a trembling hand.

      "Let me see it, child," cried Mrs. Bloundel, snatching it from her, and breaking the seal. "Insolent!" she exclaimed, as she cast her eyes over it. "I can scarcely contain my indignation. But let him cross my path again, and he shall find whether I cannot resent such shameful usage."

      "What does he say, dear mother?" asked Amabel.

      "You shall hear," replied Mrs. Bloundel, "though I blush to repeat his words: 'Amabel, you are mine. No one shall keep you from me. Love like mine will triumph over all obstacles!'—Love like his, forsooth!" she remarked; "let him keep such stuff as that for Mistress Mallet, or his other mistresses. But I will go on: 'I may be foiled ninety-nine times, but the hundredth will succeed. We shall soon meet again. 'MAURICE WYVIL.'"

      "Never!" cried Amabel. "We will never meet again. If he holds me thus cheaply, I will let him see that he is mistaken. Leonard Holt, I have told you the exact state of my feelings. I do not love you now, but I regard you as a true friend, and love may come hereafter. If in a month's time you claim my hand; if my father consents to our union, for you are aware that my mother will not oppose it—I am yours."

      Leonard attempted to speak, but his voice was choked with emotion, and the tears started to his eyes.

      "Farewell," said Amabel. "Do not let us meet till the appointed time. Rest assured, I will think of you as you deserve."

      "We could not meet till that time, even if you desired it," said Leonard, "for your father has forbidden any of the household, except old Josyna, to approach you till all fear of contagion is at an end, and I am now transgressing his commands. But your mother, I am sure, will acquit me of intentional disobedience."

      "I do," replied Mrs. Bloundel; "it was the doctor who forced you into the room. But I am heartily glad he did so."

      "Farewell, Amabel," said Leonard. "Though I shall not see you, I will watch carefully over you." And gazing at her with unutterable affection, he quitted the chamber.

      "You must now choose between the heartless and depraved nobleman, who would desert you as soon as won," observed Mrs. Bloundel, "and the honest apprentice, whose life would be devoted to your happiness."

      "I have chosen," replied her daughter.

      Doctor Hodges found the grocer writing at a small table, close to the bedside of his son.

      "I am happy to tell you, Mr. Bloundel," he said, in a low tone, as he entered the room, "that all your family are still free from infection, and with due care will, I hope, continue so. But I entirely approve of your resolution of keeping apart from them till the month has expired. If your son goes on as he is doing now, he will be as strong as ever in less than a fortnight. Still, as we cannot foresee what may occur, it is better to err on the cautious side."

      "Pray be seated for a moment," rejoined the grocer, motioning the other to the chair. "I mentioned to you last night that in case my son recovered, I had a plan which I trusted (under Providence!) would preserve my family from the further assaults of the pestilence."

      "I remember your alluding to it," replied Hodges, "and should be glad to know what it is."

      "I must tell it you in confidence," rejoined Bloundel, "because I think secresy essential to its entire accomplishment. My plan is a very simple one, and only requires firmness in its execution—and that quality, I think, I possess. It is your opinion, I know, as it is my own, that the plague will increase in violence and endure for months—probably, till next winter. My intention is to store my house with provisions, as a ship is victualled for a long voyage, and then to shut it up entirely till the scourge ceases."

      "If your project is practicable," said Hodges, after a moment's reflection, "I have no doubt it will be attended, with every good result you can desire. This house, which is large and roomy, is well adapted for your purpose. But you must consider well whether your family will submit to be imprisoned during the long period you propose."

      "They shall remain close prisoners, even if the pestilence lasts for a twelvemonth," replied the grocer. "Whoever quits the house, when it is once closed, and on whatever plea, be it wife, son, or daughter, returns not. That is my fixed resolve."

      "And you are right," rejoined Hodges, "for on that determination the success of your scheme entirely depends."

      While they were thus conversing, Leonard entered the chamber, and informed his master that Chowles, the coffin-maker, and Mrs. Malmayns, the plague-nurse, desired to see him.

      "Mrs. Malmayns!" exclaimed Hodges, in surprise. "I heard that something very extraordinary occurred last night in Saint Faith's. With your permission, Mr. Bloundel, she shall be admitted; I want to ask her a few questions. You had better hesitate about engaging her," he observed to the grocer, as Leonard departed, "for she is a woman of very indifferent character, though she may (for aught I know) be a good and fearless nurse."

      "If there is any doubt about her, I cannot hesitate," returned Bloundel.

      As he said this, the door was opened by Leonard, and Chowles and Judith entered the room. The latter, on seeing the doctor, looked greatly embarrassed.

      "I have brought you the nurse I spoke of, Mr. Bloundel," said Chowles, bowing, "and am come to inquire whether you want a coffin to-night."

      "Mr. Bloundel is not likely to require a coffin at present, Chowles," returned the doctor, severely; "neither does his son stand in need of a nurse. How is your husband, Mrs. Malmayns?"

      "He is dead, sir," replied Judith.

      "Dead!" echoed the doctor. "When I left him at one o'clock this morning, he was doing well. Your attendance seems to have accelerated his end."

      "His death was occasioned by an accident, sir," replied Judith. "He became delirious about three o'clock, and, in spite of all my efforts to detain him, started out of bed, rushed into Saint Faith's, and threw himself into a pit, which Mr. Lilly and some other persons had digged in search of treasure."

      "This is a highly improbable story, Mrs. Malmayns," returned Hodges, "and I must have the matter thoroughly investigated before I lose sight of you."

      "I will vouch for the truth of Mrs. Malmayn's statement," interposed Chowles.

      "You!" cried Hodges, contemptuously.

      "Yes, I," replied the coffin-maker. "It seems that the sexton had found a chest of treasure buried in Saint Faith's, and being haunted by the idea that some one was carrying it off, he suddenly sprang out of bed, and rushed to the church, where, sure enough, Mr. Lilly, Mr. Quatremain, the Earl of Rochester, and Sir George Etherege, having, by the help of mosaical rods, discovered this very chest, were digging it up. Poor Matthew instantly plunged into the grave, and died of a sudden chill."

      "That is not impossible," observed Hodges,

Скачать книгу