Old Saint Paul's: A Tale of the Plague and the Fire

by William Harrison Ainsworth

Affectionately returning her mother's embrace, Amabel gave her hand to her father, who conducted her to the little room overlooking the street. Nothing more, except a deep and passionate look, was exchanged between them. Both repressed their emotion, and though the heart of each was bursting, neither shed a tear. At that moment, and for the first time, they greatly resembled each other; and this was not surprising, for intense emotion, whether of grief or joy, will bring out lines in the features that lie hidden at other times. Without a word, Mr. Bloundel busied himself in arranging the pulley; and calling to those below to prepare for Amabel's descent, again embraced her, kissed her pale brow, and, placing her carefully in the basket, lowered her slowly to the ground. She was received in safety by Leonard, who carried her in his arms, and placed her on the pillion. The pulley was then drawn up, and her luggage lowered by Mr. Bloundel, and placed in the saddle-bags by the apprentice. Every one saw the necessity of terminating this painful scene. A kindly farewell was taken of Hodges. Amabel waved her hand to her father, when at this moment Patience appeared at the window, and, calling to Blaize, threw a little package tied in a handkerchief to him. Doctor Hodges took up the parcel, and gave it to the porter, who, untying the handkerchief, glanced at a note it enclosed, and, striking his horse with his stick, dashed off towards Cheapside.

"Pursue him!" cried Amabel to Leonard; "he is flying to the Earl of Rochester."

The intimation was sufficient for the apprentice. Urging his horse into a quick pace, he came up with the fugitive, just as he had reached Cheapside. Blaize's mad career had been checked by Nizza Macascree, who, seizing the bridle, stopped the steed. Leonard, who was armed with a heavy riding-whip, applied it unsparingly to Blaize's shoulders.

"Entreat him to hold his hand, dear, good Mistress Amabel," cried the porter; "it was for your sake alone I made this rash attempt. Patience told me you were dying to see the Earl of Rochester, and made me promise I would ride to Whitehall to acquaint his lordship whither you were going. Here is her letter which I was about to deliver." And as he spoke, he handed her the note, which was tied with a piece of packthread, and directed in strange and almost illegible characters.

"Do not hurt him more," said Amabel; "he was not aware of the mischief he was about to commit. And learn from me, Blaize, that, so far from desiring to see the Earl of Rochester, all my anxiety is to avoid him."

"If I had known that," returned the porter, "I would not have stirred a step. But Patience assured me the contrary."

By this time, Doctor Hodges had come up, and an explanation ensued. It was agreed, however, that it would be better not to alarm Mr. Bloundel, but to attribute the porter's sudden flight to mismanagement of his steed. Accordingly, they returned to the residence of the grocer, who was anxiously looking out for them; and after a brief delay, during which the saddlebags were again examined and secured, they departed. Mr. Bloundel looked wistfully after his daughter, and she returned his gaze as long as her blinding eyes would permit her. So unwonted was the sound of horses' feet at this period, that many a melancholy face appeared at the window to gaze at them as they rode by, and Nizza Macascree shuddered as she witnessed the envious glances cast after them by these poor captives. As to Blaize, when they got into Cheapside, he was so terrified by the dismal evidences of the pestilence that met him at every turn, that he could scarcely keep his seat, and it was not until he had drenched himself and his companion with vinegar, and stuffed his mouth with myrrh and zedoary, that he felt anything like composure.

On approaching Newgate Market, they found it entirely deserted. Most of the stalls were removed, the shops closed, and the window-shutters nailed up. It was never, in fact, used at all, except by a few countrymen and higglers, who ventured thither on certain days of the week to sell fresh eggs, butter, poultry, and such commodities. The manner of sale was this. The article disposed of was placed on a flag on one side of the market, near which stood a pump and a trough of water. The vendor then retired, while the purchaser approached, took the article, and put its price into the water, whence it was removed when supposed to be sufficiently purified.

As the party passed Grey Friars, the tramp of their horses was mistaken for the dead-cart, and a door was suddenly opened and a corpse brought forth. Leonard would have avoided the spectacle had it been possible, but they were now too close to Newgate, where they were detained for a few minutes at the gate, while their bills of health were examined and countersigned by the officer stationed there. During this pause Leonard glanced at the grated windows of the prison, the debtors' side of which fronted the street. But not a single face was to be seen. In fact, as has already been stated, the prison was shut up.

The gate was now opened to them, and descending Snow Hill they entered a region completely devastated by the pestilence. So saddening was the sight, that Leonard involuntarily quickened his horse's pace, resolved to get out of this forlorn district as speedily as possible. He was, however, stopped by an unexpected and fearful impediment. When within a short distance of Holborn Bridge, he observed on the further side of it a large black vehicle, and, unable to make out what it was, though a fearful suspicion crossed him, slackened his pace. A nearer approach showed him that it was the pest-cart, filled with its charnel load. The horse was in the shafts, and was standing quite still. Rising in his stirrups to obtain a better view, Leonard perceived that the driver was lying on the ground at a little distance from the cart, in an attitude that proclaimed he had been suddenly seized by the pestilence, and had probably just expired.