Old Saint Paul's Part 55

The apprentice viewed this scene with a singular kind of interest. He had become so accustomed to melancholy sights, that his feelings had lost their acuteness, and the contemplation of the deserted buildings and neglected wharves around him harmonized with his own gloomy thoughts. Pursuing his walk along the side of the river, he was checked by a horrible smell, and looking downward, he perceived a carca.s.s in the last stage of decomposition lying in the mud. It had been washed ash.o.r.e by the tide, and a large bird of prey was contending for the possession of it with a legion of water-rats. Sickened by the sight, he turned up a narrow thoroughfare near Baynard's Castle, and crossing Thames-street, was about to ascend Addle-hill, when he perceived a man wheeling a hand-barrow, containing a couple of corpses, in the direction of the river, with the intention, doubtless, of throwing them into it, as the readiest means of disposing of them. Both bodies were stripped of their clothing, and the blue tint of the nails, as well as the blotches with which they were covered, left no doubt as to the disease of which they had died. Averting his gaze from the spectacle, Leonard turned off on the right along Carter-lane, and threading a short pa.s.sage, approached the southern boundary of the cathedral; and proceeding towards the great door opposite him, pa.s.sed through it. The mighty lazar-house was less crowded than he expected to find it, but its terrible condition far exceeded his worst conceptions. Not more than half the pallets were occupied; but as the sick were in a great measure left to themselves, the utmost disorder prevailed. A troop of lazars, with sheets folded around them, glided, like phantoms, along Paul's Walk, and mimicked in a ghastly manner the air and deportment of the gallants who had formerly thronged the place. No attempt being made to maintain silence, the noise was perfectly stunning; some of the sick were shrieking-some laughing in a wild unearthly manner-some praying-some uttering loud execrations-others groaning and lamenting. The holy building seemed to have become the abode of evil and tormented spirits. Many dead were lying in the beds-the few attendants who were present not caring to remove them; and Leonard had little doubt, that before another sun went down the whole of the ghastly a.s.semblage before him would share their fate. If the habitations he had recently gazed upon had appeared plague-stricken, the sacred structure in which he was now standing seemed yet more horribly contaminated. Ill-kept and ill-ventilated, the air was loaded with noxious effluvia, while the various abominations that met the eye at every turn would have been sufficient to produce the distemper in any one who had come in contact with them. They were, however, utterly disregarded by the miserable sufferers and their attendants. The magnificent painted windows were dimmed by a thick clammy steam, which could scarcely be washed off-while the carved oak screens, the sculptured tombs, the pillars, the walls, and the flagged floors were covered with impurities.

Satisfied with a brief survey of this frightful scene, Leonard turned to depart, and was pa.s.sing the entrance to Saint Faith's, which stood open, when he caught sight of Judith standing at the foot of the broad stone steps, and holding a lamp in her hand. She was conversing with a tall richly-dressed man, whose features he fancied he had seen before, though he could not at the moment call them to mind. After a brief conversation, they moved off into the depths of the vault, and he lost eight of them. All at once it occurred to Leonard that Judith's companion was the unfortunate stranger whose child he had interred, and who had been so strangely affected at the sight of Nizza Macascree. Determined to ascertain the point, he hurried down the steps and plunged into the vault. It was buried in profound darkness, and he had not proceeded far when he stumbled over something lying in his path, and found from the groan that followed that it was a plague-patient. Before he could regain his feet, the unfortunate sufferer whom he had thus disturbed implored him, in piteous accents, which, with a shudder, he recognised as those of Blaize, to remove him. Leonard immediately gave the poor porter to understand that he was near him, and would render him every aid in his power.

"Your a.s.sistance comes too late, Leonard," groaned Blaize-"it's all over with me now, but I don't like to breathe my last in this dismal vault, without medicine or food, both of which I am denied by that infernal hag Mother Malmayns, who calls herself a nurse, but who is in reality a robber and murderess. Oh! the frightful scenes I have witnessed since I have been brought here! I told you I should not escape the plague. I shall die of it-I am sure I shall."

"I thought you were at the pest-house in Finsbury Fields," said Leonard.

"I was taken there," replied Blaize; "but the place was full, and they would not admit me, so I was sent to Saint Paul's, where there was plenty of room. Yesterday I did pretty well, for I was in the great ward above, and one of the attendants obeyed my directions implicitly, and I am certain if they had been fully carried out, I should have got well. I will tell you what I did. As soon as I was placed on a pallet, and covered with blankets, I ordered a drink to be prepared of the inner bark of an ash-tree, green walnuts, scabious vervain, and saffron, boiled in two quarts of the strongest vinegar. Of this mixture I drank plentifully, and it soon produced a plentiful perspiration. I next had a hen-a live one, of course-stripped of the feathers, and brought to me. Its bill was held to the large blotch under my arm, and kept there till the fowl died from the noxious matter it drew forth. I next repeated the experiment with a pigeon, and derived the greatest benefit from it. The tumour had nearly subsided, and if I had been properly treated afterwards, I should now be in a fair way of recovery. But instead of nice strengthening chicken-broth, flavoured with succory and marigolds; or water-gruel, mixed with rosemary and winter-savory; or a panado, seasoned with verjuice or wood-sorrel; instead of swallowing large draughts of warm beer; or water boiled with carduus seeds; or a posset drink, made with sorrel, bugloss, and borage;-instead of these remedies, or any other, I was carried to this horrible place when I was asleep, and strapped to my pallet, as you perceive. Unloose me, if you can do nothing else."

"That I will readily do," replied Leonard; "but I must first procure a light." With this, he groped his way among the close ranks of ponderous pillars, but though he proceeded with the utmost caution, he could not avoid coming in contact with the beds of some of the other patients, and disturbing them. At length he descried a glimmer of light issuing from a door which he knew to be that of the vestry, and which was standing slightly ajar. Opening it, he perceived a lamp burning on the table, and without stopping to look around him, seized it, and hurried back to the porter. Poor Blaize presented a lamentable, and yet grotesque appearance. His plump person was greatly reduced in bulk, and his round cheeks had become hollow and cadaverous. He was strapped, as he had stated, to the pallet, which in its turn was fastened to the adjoining pillar. A blanket was tightly swathed around him, and a large cloth was bound round his head in lieu of a nightcap. Leonard instantly set about releasing him, and had just unfastened the straps when he heard footsteps approaching, and looking up, perceived the stranger and Judith Malmayns advancing towards him.

II.

THE SECOND PLAGUE-PIT.

Judith, being a little in advance of her companion, took Leonard in the first instance for a chirurgeon's a.s.sistant, and called to him, in a harsh and menacing voice, to let her charge alone. On drawing near, however, she perceived her mistake, and recognising the apprentice, halted with a disconcerted look. By this time, the stranger had come up, and remarking her embarra.s.sment, inquired the cause of it.

"Look there," cried Judith, pointing towards the apprentice. "Yonder stands the very man you seek."

"What! Leonard Holt," cried the other, in astonishment.

"Ay, Leonard Holt," rejoined Judith. "You can now put any questions to him you think proper."

The stranger did not require the suggestion to be repeated, but instantly hastened to the apprentice. "Do you remember me?" he asked.

Leonard answered in the affirmative. "I owe you a large debt of obligation," continued the stranger, "and you shall not find me slow in paying it. But let it pa.s.s for the moment. Do you know aught of Nizza Macascree? I know she was taken to Oxford by the king, and subsequently disappeared."

"Then you know as much as I do of her, sir," rejoined Leonard.

"I was right, you see, Mr. Thirlby," interposed Judith, with a malicious grin. "I told you this youth would be utterly ignorant of her retreat."

"My firm conviction is, that she is in the power of Sir Paul Parravicin," observed Leonard. "But it is impossible to say where she is concealed."

"Then my last hope of finding her has fallen to the ground," replied Thirlby, with a look of great distress. "Ever since my recovery from the plague, I have been in search of her. I traced her from Ashdown Park to Oxford, but she was gone before my arrival at the latter place; and though I made every possible inquiry after her, and kept strict and secret watch upon the villain whom I suspected, as you do, of carrying her off, I could gain no clue to her retreat. Having ascertained, however, that you were seen in the neighbourhood of Oxford about the time of her disappearance, I had persuaded myself you must have aided her escape. But now," he added, with a groan, "I find I was mistaken."

"You were so," replied Leonard, mournfully; "I was in search of my master's daughter, Amabel, who was carried off at the same time by the Earl of Rochester, and my anxiety about her made me neglectful of Nizza."

"I am not ignorant of your devoted attachment to her," remarked the stranger.

"You will never find Amabel again," observed Judith, bitterly.

"What mean you woman?" asked Leonard.

"I mean what I say," rejoined Judith. "I repeat, you will never see her again."

"You would not speak thus positively without some motive," returned Leonard, seizing her arm. "Where is she? What has happened to her?"

"That you shall never learn from me," returned Judith, with a triumphant glance.

"Speak, or I will force you to do so," cried Leonard, furiously.

"Force me!" cried Judith, laughing derisively; "you know not whom you threaten."

"But I do," interposed Thirlby. "This young man shall have an answer to this question," he continued, addressing her in an authoritative tone. "Do you know anything of the girl?"

"No," replied Judith; "I was merely jesting with him."

"Shame on you, to trifle with his feelings thus," rejoined Thirlby.

"Step with me this way, young man, I wish to speak with you."

"Do not leave me here, Leonard," cried Blaize, "or I shall die before you come back."

"I have no intention of leaving you," rejoined Leonard. "Are you aware whether Doctor Hodges is still alive, sir?" he added to Thirlby. "I have just been to his residence in Great Knight-rider-street, and found it shut up."

"He has removed to Watling-street," replied the other; "but I have not seen him since my return to London. If you wish it, I will go to his house at once, and send him to look after your poor friend."

Leonard was about to return thanks for the offer, when the design was frustrated by Blaize himself, who was so terrified by Judith's looks, that he could pay no attention to what was going forward; and fearing, notwithstanding Leonard's a.s.surance to the contrary, that he should be left behind, he started to his feet, and wrapping the blanket about him, ran up the steps leading to the cathedral. Leonard and Thirlby followed, and seeing him dart into the southern aisle, would have pursued him along it, but were afraid of coming in contact with the many sick persons by whom it was thronged. They contented themselves, therefore, with watching his course, and were not a little surprised and alarmed to find the whole troop of lazars set off after him, making the sacred walls ring with their cries. Frightened by the clamour, Blaize redoubled his speed, and, with this ghastly train at his heels, crossed the lower part of the mid-aisle, and darting through the pillars, took refuge within Bishop Kempe's Chapel, the door of which stood open, and which he instantly closed after him. Judith, who had followed the party from the subterranean church, laughed heartily at the chase of the poor porter, and uttered an exclamation of regret at its sudden conclusion. Leonard, however, being apprehensive of mischief from the crowd of sick persons collected before the door, some of whom were knocking against it and trying to force it open, addressed himself to a couple of the attendants, and prevailed on them to accompany him to the chapel. The a.s.semblage was speedily dispersed, and Blaize hearing Leonard's voice, instantly opened the door and admitted him; and, as soon as his fears were allayed, he was placed on a pallet within the chapel, and wrapped up in blankets, while such remedies as were deemed proper were administered to him. Committing him to the care of the attendants, and promising to reward them well for their trouble, Leonard told Blaize he should go and bring Doctor Hodges to him. Accordingly, he departed, and finding Thirlby waiting for him at the south door, they went forth together.

"I am almost afraid of leaving the poor fellow," said Leonard, hesitating as he was about to descends the steps. "Judith Malmayns is so cunning and unscrupulous, that she may find some means of doing him an injury."

"Have no fear," replied Thirlby; "she has promised me not to molest him further."

"You appear to have a strange influence over her, then," observed Leonard. "May I ask how you have attained it?"

"No matter," replied the other. "It must suffice that I am willing to exercise it in your behalf."

"And you are not disposed to tell me the nature of the interest you feel in Nizza Macascree?" pursued Leonard.

"Not as yet," replied Thirlby, with a look and tone calculated to put a stop to further inquiries.

Pa.s.sing through Saint Austin's Gate, they approached Watling-street, at the corner of which stood the house where Doctor Hodges had taken up his temporary abode, that he might visit the sick in the cathedral with greater convenience, and be more readily summoned whenever his attendance might be required. Thirlby's knock at the door was answered, to Leonard's great satisfaction, by the old porter, who was equally delighted to see him.

It did not escape Leonard that the porter treated the stranger with great respect, and he inferred from this that he was a person of some consideration, as indeed his deportment bespoke him. The old man informed them that his master had been summoned on a case of urgency early in the morning, and had not yet returned, neither was he aware whither he was gone. He promised, however, to acquaint him with Blaize's condition immediately on his return-"and I need not a.s.sure you," he added to Leonard, "that he will instantly go to him." Thirlby then inquired of the porter whether Mike Macascree, the blind piper, was still at Dame Lucas's cottage, in Finsbury Fields, and was answered in the affirmative by the old man, who added, however, in a voice of much emotion, that the good dame herself was no more.

"She died about a fortnight ago of the plague," he said, "and is buried where she desired to be, beneath an old apple-tree in her garden."

"Alas!" exclaimed Leonard, brushing away a tear, "her own foreboding is too truly realised."

"I am about to visit the old piper," observed Thirlby to the apprentice.

"Will you go with me?"

The other readily acquiesced, only stipulating that they should call in Wood-street on the way, that he might inquire whether his master wanted him. Thirlby agreeing to this, and the old porter repeating his a.s.surance that Leonard might make himself quite easy as to Blaize, for he would send his master to him the instant he returned, they set out. On reaching Wood-street the apprentice gave the customary signal, and the grocer answering it, he informed him of his unexpected meeting with Blaize, and of the state in which he had left him. Mr. Bloundel was much distressed by the intelligence, and telling Leonard that he should not require him again that night, besought him to observe the utmost caution. This the apprentice promised, and joining Thirlby, who had walked forward to a little distance, they struck into a narrow street on the right, and proceeding along Aldermanbury, soon arrived at the first postern in the city walls beyond Cripplegate.

Hitherto, Thirlby had maintained a profound silence, and appeared lost in melancholy reflection. Except now and then casting a commiserating glance at the wretched objects they encountered on the road, he kept his eyes steadily fixed upon the ground, and walked at a brisky pace, as if desirous of getting out of the city as quickly as possible. Notwithstanding his weakness, Leonard managed to keep up with him, and his curiosity being greatly aroused by what had just occurred, he began to study his appearance and features attentively. Thirlby was full six feet in height, and possessed a powerful and well-proportioned figure, and would have been considered extremely handsome but for a certain sinister expression about the eyes, which were large and dark, but lighted by a fierce and peculiar fire. His complexion was dark, and his countenance still bore the impress of the dreadful disease from which he had recently recovered. A gloomy shade sat about his brow, and it seemed to Leonard as if he had been led by his pa.s.sions into the commission of crimes of which he had afterwards bitterly repented. His deportment was proud and commanding, and though he exhibited no haughtiness towards the apprentice, but, on the contrary, treated him with great familiarity, it was plain he did so merely from a sense of grat.i.tude. His age was under forty, and his habiliments were rich, though of a sombre colour.

Pa.s.sing through the postern, which stood wide open, the watchman having disappeared, they entered a narrow lane, skirted by a few detached houses, all of which were shut up, and marked by the fatal cross. As they pa.s.sed one of these habitations, they were arrested by loud and continued shrieks of the most heart-rending nature, and questioning a watchman who stood at an adjoining door, as to the cause of them, he said they proceeded from a poor lady who had just lost the last of her family by the plague.

"Her husband and all her children, except one daughter, died last week," said the man, "and though she seemed deeply afflicted, yet she bore her loss with resignation. Yesterday, her daughter was taken ill, and she died about two hours ago, since when the poor mother has done nothing but shriek in the way you hear. Poor soul! she will die of grief, as many have done before her at this awful time."

"Something must be done to pacify her," returned Thirlby, in a voice of much emotion,-"she must be removed from her child."

"Where can she be removed to?" rejoined the watchman. "Who will receive her?"

"At all events, we can remove the object that occasions her affliction," rejoined Thirlby. "My heart bleeds for her. I never heard shrieks so dreadful."