"Where am I?" he exclaimed, pressing his hand forcibly to his brow, "and what is the matter with me?"
"You are in a vault, near Saint Faith's," replied Nizza, "and—I will not deceive you—the disorder you are labouring under is the plague."
"The plague!" echoed Leonard, with a look of horror. "Ah! now I recollect. I was attacked immediately after Amabel's departure with her father. Heaven be praised! she is safe. That is some consolation amid all this misery. Could my master behold me now, he would pity me, and so perhaps would his daughter."
"Heed her not," rejoined Nizza, in a slightly reproachful tone, "she does not deserve consideration. To return to yourself. You are not safe here. Judith Malmayns has been hired to take away your life. Are you able to move hence?"
"I hope so," replied Leonard, raising himself on his arm.
"Wrap a blanket round you, then, and follow me," said Nizza, taking up the lamp and hastening to the door. "Ah!" she exclaimed, with a cry of anguish—"it is locked."
"This building is destined to be my prison, and that treacherous woman my gaoler," groaned Leonard, sinking backwards.
"Do not despair," cried Nizza; "I will accomplish your deliverance."
So saying, she tried, by knocking against the door and by loud outcries, to give the alarm. But no answer was returned, and she soon became convinced that Judith had fastened the door of the charnel, which, it will be remembered, lay between the vault and the body of Saint Faith's. Hence, no sound could teach the outer structure. Disturbed by what had just occurred. Leonard's senses again wandered; but, exerting all her powers to tranquillize him, Nizza at last succeeded so well that he sunk into a slumber.
Almost regarding his situation as hopeless, she took up the lamp, and searching the vault, found the pan containing the half-made poultice. The fire smouldered on the hearth, and replenishing it from a scanty supply in one corner, she heated the poultice and applied it to the tumour. This done, she continued her search. But though she found several phials, each bearing the name of some remedy for the pestilence, her distrust of Judith would not allow her to use any of them. Resuming her seat by the couch of the sufferer, and worn out with fatigue and anxiety, she presently dropped asleep.