When the proper time arrived, the grocer, accompanied by all his family and household, except old Josyna, who was left in charge of the house, repaired to the neighbouring church of Saint Alban’s, but, finding the doors closed, and that no service was to be performed, he returned home with a sorrowful heart.  Soon after this, Leonard took Mr. Bloundel apart, and observed to him, “I have a strong conviction that I could be useful in arresting the progress of the conflagration, and, as I cannot attend church service, I will, with your permission, devote myself to that object.  It is my intention to proceed to Whitehall, and, if possible, obtain an audience of the king, and if I succeed in doing so, to lay a plan before him, which I think would prove efficacious.”

“I will not ask what the plan is,” rejoined the grocer, “because I doubt its success.  Neither will I oppose your design, which is praiseworthy.  Go, and may it prosper.  Return in the evening, for I may need your assistance—­perhaps protection.”

Leonard then prepared to set forth.  Blaize begged hard to accompany him, but was refused.  Forcing his way through the host of carts, coaches, drays, and other vehicles thronging the streets, Leonard made the best of his way to Whitehall, where he speedily arrived.  A large body of mounted troopers were stationed before the gates of the palace, and a regiment of the foot-guards were drawn up in the court.  Drums were beating to arms, and other martial sounds were heard, showing the alarm that was felt.  Leonard was stopped at the gate by a sentinel, and refused admittance; and he would in all probability have been turned back, if at that moment the Lords Argentine and Rochester had not come up.  On seeing him, the former frowned, and passed quickly on, but the latter halted.

“You seem to be in some difficulty,” remarked Rochester.  “Can I help you?”

Leonard was about to turn away, but he checked himself.  “I will not suffer my resentful feelings to operate injuriously to others,” he muttered.  “I desire to see the king, my lord,” he added, to the earl.  “I have a proposal to make to him, which I think would be a means of checking the conflagration.”

“Say you so?” cried Rochester.  “Come along, then.  Heaven grant your plan may prove successful; in which case, I promise you, you shall be nobly rewarded.”

“I seek no reward, my lord,” replied Leonard.  “All I desire is to save the city.”

“Well, well,” rejoined Rochester, “it will be time enough to refuse his majesty’s bounty when offered.”

Upon this, he ordered the sentinel to withdraw, and Leonard followed him into the palace.  They found the entrance-hall filled with groups of officers and attendants, all conversing together, it was evident from their looks and manner, on the one engrossing topic—­the conflagration.  Ascending a magnificent staircase, and traversing part of a grand gallery, they entered an ante-room, in which a number