serve to cheer him.  It seemed totally altered since he knew it first.  The sign, which then invited the passers-by to enter the shop and deal with its honest owner, now appeared no longer significant, unless—­and it will be remembered it was the Noah’s Ark—­it could be supposed to have reference to those shut up within.  The apprentice looked at the habitation with misgiving, and, instead of regarding it as a sanctuary from the pestilence, could not help picturing it as a living tomb.  The last conversation he had had with Amabel also arose forcibly to his recollection, and the little likelihood there appeared of seeing her again gave him acute agony.  Oppressed by this painful idea, and unable to exclude from his thoughts the unhappy situation of Nizza Macascree, he bent his steps, scarcely knowing whither he was going, towards Saint Paul’s.

Having passed so much of his time of late in the cathedral, Leonard began to regard it as a sort of home, and it now appeared like a place of refuge to him.  Proceeding to the great western entrance, he seated himself on one of the large blocks of stone left there by the masons occupied in repairing the exterior of the fane.  His eye rested upon the mighty edifice before him, and the clear sparkling light revealed numberless points of architectural grandeur and beauty which he had never before noticed.  The enormous buttresses and lofty pinnacles of the central tower were tinged with the beams of the rising sun, and glowed as if built of porphyry.  While gazing at the summit of this tower, and calling to mind the magnificent view he had recently witnessed from it at the same hour, if a wish could have transported him thither at that moment, he would have enjoyed it again.  But as this could not be, he tried to summon before his mental vision the whole glorious prospect—­the broad and shining river, with its moving or motionless craft—­the gardens, the noble mansions, the warehouses, and mighty wharfs on its banks—­London Bridge, with its enormous pile of habitations—­the old and picturesque city, with its innumerable towers, and spires, and girdle of grey walls—­the green fields and winding lanes leading to the lovely hills around it—­all these objects arose obedient to his fancy, and came arrayed in colouring as fresh as that wherein they had before appeared to him.  While thus occupied, his gaze remained riveted on the summit of the central tower, and he fancied he perceived some one leaning over the balustrade; but as little beyond the upper part of the figure could be discerned, and as it appeared perfectly motionless, he could not be quite sure that his eyes did not deceive him.  Having gazed at the object for some minutes, during which it maintained the same attitude, he continued his survey of the pile, and became so excited by the sublime emotions inspired by the contemplation, as to be insensible to aught else.