Old Saint Paul's, William Harrison Ainsworth [ebooks online reader .txt] 📗

old woman. "Let the worst happen, I am sure you are well prepared to meet your Maker."

"I once was," replied Amabel in a voice of despair, "but now--Oh, Heaven forgive me!"

"Shall I fetch some holy minister to pray beside you, my lady?" said Mrs. Batley; "one to whom you can pour forth the sorrows of your heart?"

"Do so! oh, do!" cried Amabel, "and do not call me lady. I am not worthy to be placed in the same rank as yourself."

"Her wits are clean gone," muttered Mrs. Batley, looking at her compassionately.

"Heed me not," cried Amabel; "but if you have any pity for the unfortunate, do as you have promised."

"I will--I will," said Mrs. Batley, departing.

Half an hour, which scarcely seemed a moment to the poor sufferer, who was employed in fervent prayer, elapsed before Mrs. Batley returned. She was accompanied by a tall man, whom Amabel recognised as Solomon Eagle.

"I have not been able to find a clergyman," said the old woman, "but I have brought a devout man who is willing to pray with you."

"Ah!" exclaimed the enthusiast, starting as he beheld Amabel. "Can it be Mr. Bloundel's daughter?"

"It is," returned Amabel with a groan. "Leave us, my good woman," she added to Mrs. Batley, "I have something to impart to Solomon Eagle which is for his ear alone." The old woman instantly retired, and Amabel briefly related her hapless story to the enthusiast.

"May I hope for forgiveness?" she inquired, as she concluded.

"Assuredly," replied Solomon Eagle, "assuredly! You have not erred wilfully, but through ignorance, and therefore have committed no offence. _You_ will be forgiven--but woe to your deceiver, here and hereafter."

"Oh' say not so," she cried. "May Heaven pardon him as I do. While I have strength left I will pray for him." And she poured forth her supplications for the earl in terms so earnest and pathetic, that the tears flowed down Solomon Eagle's rough cheek. At this juncture, hasty steps were heard in the adjoining passage, and the door opening, admitted the Earl of Rochester, who rushed towards the bed.

"Back!" cried Solomon Eagle, pushing him forcibly aside. "Back!"

"What do you here?" cried Rochester, fiercely.

"I am watching over the death-bed of your victim," returned Solomon Eagle. "Retire, my lord. You disturb her."

"Oh, no," returned Amabel, meekly. "Let him come near me." And as Solomon Eagle drew a little aside, and allowed the earl to approach, she added, "With my latest breath I forgive you, my lord, for the wrong you have done me, and bless you."

The earl tried to speak, but his voice was suffocated by emotion. As soon as he could find words, he said, "Your goodness completely overpowers me, dearest Amabel. Heaven is my witness, that even now I would make you all the reparation in my power were it needful. But it is not so. The wrong I intended you was never committed. I myself was deceived. I intended a feigned marriage, but it was rightfully performed. Time will not allow me to enter into further particulars of the unhappy transaction, but you may credit my assertion when I tell you you are indeed my wife, and Countess of Rochester."

"If I thought so, I should die happy," replied Amabel.

"Behold this proof!" said Rochester, producing the certificate.

"I cannot read it," replied Amabel. "But you could not have the heart to deceive me now."

"I will read it, and you well know _I_ would not deceive you," cried Solomon Eagle, casting his eye over it--"His lordship has avouched the truth," he continued. "It is a certificate of your marriage with him, duly signed and attested."

"God be thanked," ejaculated Amabel, fervently. "God be thanked! You have been spared that guilt, and I shall die content."

"I trust your life will long be spared," rejoined the earl. Amabel shook her head.

"There is but one man in this city who could save her," whispered Solomon Eagle, and I doubt even his power to do so.'

"Who do you mean?" cried Rochester, eagerly.

"Doctor Hodges," replied the enthusiast.

"I know him well," cried the earl. "I will fly to him instantly. Remain with her till I return."

"My lord--my dear lord," interposed Amabel, faintly, "you trouble yourself needlessly. I am past all human aid."

"Do not despair," replied the earl. "Many years of happiness are, I trust, in store for us. Do not detain me. I go to save you. Farewell for a short time."

"Farewell, for ever, my lord," she said, gently pressing his hand. "We shall not meet again. Your name will be coupled with my latest breath."

"I shall be completely unmanned if I stay here a moment longer," cried the earl, breaking from her, and rushing out of the room.

As soon as he was gone, Amabel addressed herself once more to prayer with Solomon Eagle, and in this way an hour passed by. The earl not returning at the end of that time, Solomon Eagle became extremely uneasy, every moment being of the utmost consequence, and summoning Mrs. Batley, committed the patient to her care, and set off in search of Hodges. He hastened to the doctor's house--he was absent--to Saint Paul's--he was not there, but he learnt that a person answering to the earl's description had been making similar inquiries after him.

At last, one of the chirurgeon's assistants told him that he thought the doctor was gone towards Cornhill, and hoping, accidentally, to meet with him, the enthusiast set off in that direction. While passing near the Exchange, he encountered Leonard, as before related, but did not think fit to acquaint him with more than Amabel's dangerous situation; and he had reason to regret making the communication at all, on finding its effect upon the poor youth. There was, however, no help for it, and placing him in what appeared a situation of safety, he left him.

Rochester, meanwhile, had been equally unsuccessful in his search for Hodges. Hurrying first in one direction and then in another, at the suggestion of the chirurgeon's assistant, he at last repaired to the doctor's residence, determined to await his return. In half an hour he came, and received the earl, as the old porter stated to Thirlby and Leonard, with angry astonishment. As soon as they were alone, the earl told him all that had occurred, and besought him to accompany him to the poor sufferer.

"I will go to her," said Hodges, who had listened to the recital with mixed feelings of sorrow and indignation, "on one condition--and one only--namely, that your lordship does not see her again without my permission."

"Why do you impose this restriction upon, me sir?' demanded Rochester.

"I do not think it necessary to give my reasons, my lord," returned Hodges; "but I will only go upon such terms."

"Then I must perforce submit," replied the earl; "but I entreat you to set forth-without a moment's delay, or you will be too late."

"I will follow you instantly," rejoined Hodges. "Your lordship can wait for me at the Southwark side of the bridge." He then opened the door, reiterating the terms upon which alone he would attend, and the earl departed.

Shortly afterwards he set out, and making the best of his way, found Rochester at the appointed place. The latter conducted him to the entrance of the habitation, and indicating a spot where he would remain till his return, left him. Hodges soon found his way to the chamber of the sufferer, and at once perceived that all human aid was vain. She exhibited much pleasure at seeing him, and looked round, as if in search of the earl. Guessing her meaning, the physician, who now began to regret the interdiction he had placed upon him, told her that he was the cause of his absence.

"It is well," she murmured--"well." She then made some inquiries after her relatives, and receiving a satisfactory answer, said, "I am glad you are come. You will be able to tell my father how I died."

"It will be a great comfort to him to learn the tranquil frame in which I have found you," replied Hodges.

"How long have I to live?" asked Amabel, somewhat quickly. "Do not deceive me."

"You had better make your preparations without delay," returned Hodges.

"I understand," she replied; and joining her hands upon her breast, she began to murmur a prayer.

Hodges, who up to this moment had had some difficulty in repressing his emotion, withdrew to a short distance to hide his fast-falling tears. He was roused shortly after, by a sudden and startling cry from the old woman.

"Oh, sir, she is going! she is going!" ejaculated Mrs. Batley. He found the exclamation true. The eyes of the dying girl were closed. There was a slight quiver of the lips, as if she murmured some name--probably Rochester's--and then all was over.

Hodges gazed at her sorrowfully for some time. He then roused himself, and giving some necessary directions to the old woman respecting the body, quitted the house. Not finding the earl at the place he had appointed to meet him, after waiting for a short time, he proceeded, towards his own house. On the way he was net by Thirlby and Parravicin, as previously related, and conducted to the house in Nicholas-lane. It will not be necessary to recapitulate what subsequently occurred. We shall, therefore, proceed to the point of time when he quitted his new patient, and entered the room where Thirlby and Leonard were waiting for him. Both, as has been stated, rushed towards him, and the former eagerly asked his opinion respecting his daughter.

"My opinion is positive," replied Hodges. "With care, she will undoubtedly recover."

"Heaven be thanked!" cried Thirlby, dropping on his knees.

"And now, one word to me, sir," cried Leonard. "What of Amabel?"

"Alas!" exclaimed the doctor, "her troubles are ended."

"Dead!" shrieked Leonard.

"Ay, dead!" repeated the doctor. "She died of the plague to-night."

He then proceeded to detail briefly all that had occurred. Leonard listened like one stupefied, till he brought his recital to a close, and then asking where the house in which she had died was situated, rushed out of the room, and made his way, he knew not how, into the street. His brain seemed on fire, and he ran so quickly that his feet appeared scarcely to touch the ground. A few seconds brought him to London Bridge. He crossed it, and turning down the street on the left, had nearly reached the house to which he had been directed, when his career was suddenly checked. The gate of the court-yard was opened, and two men, evidently, from their apparel, buriers of the dead, issued from it. They carried a long narrow board between them, with a body wrapped in a white sheet placed upon it. A freezing horror rooted Leonard to the spot where he stood. He could neither move nor utter a cry.

The men proceeded with their burden towards the adjoining habitation, which was marked with a fatal red cross and inscription. Before it stood the dead-cart, partly filled with corpses. The foremost burier carried a lantern, but he held it so low that its light did not fall upon his burden. Leonard, however, did not require to see the body to know whose it was. The moon was at its full, and shed a ghastly light over the group, and a large bat wheeled in narrow circles round the dead-cart.

On reaching the door