"Was the gentleman young or old?" demanded Leonard, hastily.
"As far as I noticed," replied the porter, "for he kept his face covered with a handkerchief, I should say he was young—very young."
"You are sure it was not Lord Rochester?" pursued Leonard.
"How should I be sure of it," rejoined the porter, "since I have never seen his lordship that I am aware of? But I will tell you all that happened, and you can judge for yourselves. My master, as I have just said, on seeing the stranger, looked surprised and angry, and bowing gravely, conducted him to his study, taking care to close the door after him. I did not, of course, hear what passed, but the interview was brief enough, and the gentleman, issuing forth, said, as he quitted the room, 'You will not fail to come?' To which my master replied, 'Certainly not, on the terms I have mentioned.' With this, the gentleman hurried out of the house. Shortly afterwards the doctor came out, and said to me, 'I am going to attend a young woman who is sick of the plague, and may be absent for some time. If Mr. Thirlby or Leonard Holt should call, detain them till my return.'"
"My heart tells me that the young woman he is gone to visit is no other than Amabel," said Leonard Holt, sorrowfully.
"I suspect it is Nizza Macascree," cried Thirlby. "Which way did your master take?"
"I did not observe," replied the porter, "but he told me he should cross London Bridge."
"I will go into Southwark in quest of him," said Thirlby. "Every moment is of consequence now."
"You had better stay where you are," replied the old porter. "It is the surest way to meet with him."
Thirlby, however, was too full of anxiety to listen to reason, and his impatience producing a corresponding effect upon Leonard, though from a different motive, they set forth together. "If I fail to find him, you may expect me back ere long," were Thirlby's last words to the porter. Hurrying along Watling-street, and taking the first turning on the right, he descended to Thames-street, and made the best of his way towards the bridge. Leonard followed him closely, and they pursued their rapid course in silence. By the time they reached the north gate of the bridge, Leonard found his strength failing him, and halting at one of the openings between the tall houses overlooking the river, where there was a wooden bench for the accommodation of passengers, he sank upon it, and begged Thirlby to go on, saying he would return to Watling-street as soon as he recovered from his exhaustion. Thirlby did not attempt to dissuade him from his purpose, but instantly disappeared.