"I followed Judith to the vaults of Saint Faith's," replied Nizza, "and heard her inform your companions that you had found the grocer's daughter, and had taken her away."
"And this false statement imposed upon them?" cried Leonard.
"It did," replied Nizza. "They were by this time more than half intoxicated by the brandy given them by Chowles, the coffin-maker, and they departed in high dudgeon with you."
"No wonder!" exclaimed Leonard.
"They had scarcely been gone many minutes," pursued Nizza, "when, having stationed myself behind one of the massive pillars in the north aisle of Saint Faith's—for I suspected something was wrong—I observed Judith and Chowles steal across the nave, and proceed towards the vestry. The former tapped at the door, and they were instantly admitted by Mr. Quatremain, the minor canon. Hastening to the door, which was left slightly ajar, I perceived two young gallants, whom I heard addressed as the Earl of Rochester and Sir George Etherege, and a young female, who I could not doubt was Amabel. The earl and his companion laughed heartily at the trick Judith had played you, and which the latter detailed to them; but Amabel took no part in their merriment, but, on the contrary, looked very grave, and even wept."
"Wept, did she?" cried Leonard, in a voice of much emotion. "Then, there is hope for her yet."
"You appear greatly interested in her," observed Nizza, pausing, in her narration. "Do you love her?"
"Can you ask it?" cried Leonard, passionately.
"I would advise you to think no more of her, and to fix your heart elsewhere," returned Nizza.
"You know not what it is to love," replied the apprentice, "or you would not offer such a counsel."