“I shall never rest easy, Leonard,” rejoined Mrs. Bloundel, “till you are wedded to my daughter.  Then, indeed, I shall feel happy.  My poor child, I am sure, is fully aware how indiscreet her conduct has been; and when this noble libertine desists from annoying her—­or rather, when he is effectually shut out—­we may hope for a return of her regard for you.”

“It is a vain hope, madam,” replied Leonard; “there will be no such return.  I neither expect it nor desire it.”

“Have you ceased to love her?” asked Mrs. Bloundel, in surprise.

“Ceased to love her!” echoed Leonard, fiercely.  “Would I had done so!—­would I could do so!  I love her too well—­too well.”

And repeating the words to himself with great bitterness, he hurried away.

“His passion has disturbed his brain,” sighed Mrs. Bloundel, as she proceeded to her chamber.  “I must try to reason him into calmness to-morrow.”

Half an hour after this, the grocer retired for the night; and Leonard, who had gone to his own room, cautiously opened the door, and repaired to the shop.  On the way he met Amabel.  She looked pale as death, and trembled so violently, that she could scarcely support herself.

“I hope you do not mean to use any violence towards the earl, Leonard?” she said in a supplicating voice.

“He will never repeat his visit,” rejoined the apprentice, gloomily.

“Your looks terrify me,” cried Amabel, gazing with great uneasiness at his stern and determined countenance.  “I will remain by you.  He will depart at my bidding.”

“Did he depart at your bidding before?” demanded Leonard, sarcastically.

“He did not, I grant,” she replied, more supplicatingly than before.  “But do not harm him—­for mercy’s sake, do not—­take my life sooner.  I alone have offended you.”

The apprentice made no reply, but, unlocking a box, took out a brace of large horse-pistols and a sword, and thrust them into his girdle.

“You do not mean to use those murderous weapons?” cried Amabel.

“It depends on circumstances,” replied Leonard.  “Force must be met by force.”

“Nay, then,” she rejoined, “the affair assumes too serious an aspect to be trifled with.  I will instantly alarm my father.”

“Do so,” retorted Leonard, “and he will cast you off for ever.”

“Better that, than be the cause of bloodshed,” she returned.  “But is there nothing I can do to prevent this fatal result?”

“Yes,” replied Leonard.  “Make your lover understand he is unwelcome to you.  Dismiss him for ever.  On that condition, he shall depart unharmed and freely.”

“I will do so,” she rejoined.

Nothing more was then said.  Amabel seated herself and kept her eyes fixed on Leonard, who, avoiding her regards, stationed himself near the door.