“What are you about to do?” gasped Rochester,
struggling ineffectually to get free.
“Bid Stephen bring a cord,” cried the
grocer.
“You are not going to hang him?” inquired
Mrs. Bloundel.
“Do as I bid you,” rejoined her husband,
“and lose no time.”
As she was about to leave the room, the door opened,
and Doctor Hodges entered, followed by Leonard and
Stephen.
“Mercy on us! what’s the matter?”
cried the former, in astonishment.
“You are just arrived in time to prevent mischief,”
replied Mrs. Bloundel. “Pray interfere
between them. My husband will attend to you.”
“Arise, my lord,” said Mr. Bloundel, removing
his foot from the prostrate nobleman; “you are
sufficiently punished by being found in this disgraceful
condition. Remember that your life has been at
my disposal.”
Thus liberated, Rochester sprang to his feet, and
regarding the group with a menacing and disdainful
look, walked up to Amabel, and saying to her, “You
shall yet be mine,” strode out of the room.
He then marched along the passage, and called to Pillichody,
who instantly answered the summons. Accompanied
by Hodges, the grocer followed them to the shop, where
the bully not departing so quickly as he desired, and
refusing to be more expeditious, he kicked him into
the street. This done, and the door fastened,
he tarried only till he had received all needful explanations
from the friendly physician, and then returning to
the inner room, warmly greeted Leonard, and congratulated
him on his extraordinary recovery from the plague.
Happiness was thus once more restored to every member
of the grocer’s family, except Amabel, who still
continued downcast and dejected, and entreated permission
to retire to her own room. A cheerful evening
was then passed by the others, and the doctor did
not offer to take his departure till the clock struck
eleven.
“It is the last night I shall spend here for
some months,” he said; “perhaps the last
I shall ever spend here, and I have stayed longer than
I intended, but I did not like to abridge my enjoyment.”
After shaking hands cordially with the whole party,
he added in an under tone, as he took leave of Leonard,
“Do not forget Nizza Macascree.”
On the following day the grocer nailed up the shutters,
and locked and barred the doors of his house.
JUNE, 1665.
THE IMPRISONED FAMILY.
The first few days of their confinement were passed
by the grocer’s family in a very uncomfortable
manner. No one, except Mr. Bloundel, appeared
reconciled to the plan, and even he found it more difficult
of accomplishment that he had anticipated. The
darkness of the rooms, and the want of ventilation
caused by the closed windows and barred doors, gave
the house the air of a prison, and occasioned a sense
