A Tale of the Plague and the Fire - William Harrison Ainsworth (book recommendations for teens .TXT) 📗

to hear the question, but, as it was repeated still more peremptorily, he repeated carelessly,--"I will consider of it."

"Deceived! deceived!" cried Amabel, falling on her mother's neck, and bursting into tears.

"This outrage shall not pass unpunished," cried Bloundel. And before the earl could draw his sword or offer any resistance, he threw himself upon him, and hurling him to the ground, set his foot upon his bosom.

"Do not kill him," shrieked Amabel, terrified by the stern expression of her father's countenance.

"What are you about to do?" gasped Rochester, struggling ineffectually to get free.

"Bid Stephen bring a cord," cried the grocer.

"You are not going to hang him?" inquired Mrs. Bloundel.

"Do as I bid you," rejoined her husband, "and lose no time."

As she was about to leave the room, the door opened, and Doctor Hodges entered, followed by Leonard and Stephen.

"Mercy on us! what's the matter?" cried the former, in astonishment.

"You are just arrived in time to prevent mischief," replied Mrs. Bloundel. "Pray interfere between them. My husband will attend to you."

"Arise, my lord," said Mr. Bloundel, removing his foot from the prostrate nobleman; "you are sufficiently punished by being found in this disgraceful condition. Remember that your life has been at my disposal."

Thus liberated, Rochester sprang to his feet, and regarding the group with a menacing and disdainful look, walked up to Amabel, and saying to her, "You shall yet be mine," strode out of the room. He then marched along the passage, and called to Pillichody, who instantly answered the summons. Accompanied by Hodges, the grocer followed them to the shop, where the bully not departing so quickly as he desired, and refusing to be more expeditious, he kicked him into the street. This done, and the door fastened, he tarried only till he had received all needful explanations from the friendly physician, and then returning to the inner room, warmly greeted Leonard, and congratulated him on his extraordinary recovery from the plague.

Happiness was thus once more restored to every member of the grocer's family, except Amabel, who still continued downcast and dejected, and entreated permission to retire to her own room. A cheerful evening was then passed by the others, and the doctor did not offer to take his departure till the clock struck eleven.

"It is the last night I shall spend here for some months," he said; "perhaps the last I shall ever spend here, and I have stayed longer than I intended, but I did not like to abridge my enjoyment." After shaking hands cordially with the whole party, he added in an under tone, as he took leave of Leonard, "Do not forget Nizza Macascree."

On the following day the grocer nailed up the shutters, and locked and barred the doors of his house.


BOOK THE THIRD.

JUNE, 1665.


I.

THE IMPRISONED FAMILY.

The first few days of their confinement were passed by the grocer's family in a very uncomfortable manner. No one, except Mr. Bloundel, appeared reconciled to the plan, and even he found it more difficult of accomplishment that he had anticipated. The darkness of the rooms, and the want of ventilation caused by the closed windows and barred doors, gave the house the air of a prison, and occasioned a sense of oppression almost intolerable. Blaize declared it was "worse than being in Newgate, and that he must take an additional rufus to set right his digestion;" while Patience affirmed "that it was like being buried alive, and that she would not stand it." Mr. Bloundel paid no attention to their complaints, but addressed himself seriously to the remedy. Insisting upon the utmost attention being paid to cleanliness, he had an abundant supply of water drawn, with which the floors of every room and passage were washed down daily. By such means the house was kept cool and wholesome; and its inmates, becoming habituated to the gloom, in a great degree recovered their cheerfulness.

The daily routine of the establishment was as follows. The grocer arose at dawn, and proceeded to call up the whole of his family. They then assembled in a large room on the second story, where he offered up thanks that they had been spared during the night, and prayed for their preservation during the day. He next assigned a task to each, and took care to see it afterwards duly fulfilled; well knowing that constant employment was the best way to check repining and promote contentment. Heretofore the servants had always taken their meals in the kitchen, but now they always sat down to table with him. "I will make no distinction at this season," he said; "all shall fare as I fare, and enjoy the same comforts as myself. And I trust that my dwelling may be as sure a refuge amid this pestilential storm as the ark of the patriarch proved when Heaven's vengeance was called forth in the mighty flood."

Their devotions ended, the whole party repaired to one of the lower rooms, where a plentiful breakfast was provided, and of which they all partook. The business of the day then began, and, as has just been observed, no one was suffered to remain idle. The younger children were allowed to play and exercise themselves as much as they chose in the garret, and Blaize and Patience were occasionally invited to join them. A certain portion of the evening was also devoted to harmless recreation and amusements. The result may be anticipated. No one suffered in health, while all improved in spirits. Prayers, as usual, concluded the day, and the family retired to rest at an early hour.

This system of things may appear sufficiently monotonous, but it was precisely adapted to the exigencies of the case, and produced a most salutary effect. Regular duties and regular employments being imposed upon each, and their constant recurrence, so far from being irksome, soon became agreeable. After a while the whole family seemed to grow indifferent to the external world--to live only for each other, and to think only of each other--and to Leonard Holt, indeed, that house was all the world. Those walls contained everything dear to him, and he would have been quite content never to leave them if Amabel had been always near. He made no attempt to renew his suit--seldom or never exchanging a word with her, and might have been supposed to have become wholly indifferent to her. But it was not so. His heart was consumed by the same flame as before. No longer, however, a prey to jealousy--no longer apprehensive of the earl--he felt so happy, in comparison with what he had been, that he almost prayed that the term of their imprisonment might be prolonged. Sometimes the image of Nizza Macascree would intrude upon him, and he thought, with a feeling akin to remorse, of what she might suffer--for he was too well acquainted with the pangs of unrequited love not to sympathise deeply with her. As to Amabel, she addressed herself assiduously to the tasks enjoined by her father, and allowed her mind to dwell as little as possible on the past, but employed all her spare time in devotional exercises.

It will be remembered that the grocer had reserved a communication with the street, by means of a shutter opening from a small room in the upper story. Hither he would now frequently repair, and though he did not as yet think it necessary to have recourse to all the precautionary measures he intended eventually to adopt--such as flashing a pistol when he looked forth--yet he never opened the shutter without holding a phial of vinegar, or a handkerchief wetted with the same liquid, to his face.

Before closing his house he had hired a porter, who occupied the hutch at his door, and held himself in readiness to execute any commission, or perform any service that might be required. Fresh vegetables, poultry, eggs, butter, and milk, were brought by a higgler from the country, and raised by means of a basket or a can attached to the pulley. Butcher's meat was fetched him from Newgate-market by the porter. This man, whose name was Ralph Dallison, had been formerly in the employ of the grocer, who, knowing his character, could place entire reliance on him. Dallison reported the progress of the pestilence daily, and acquainted him with the increasing amount of the bills of mortality. Several houses, he said, were infected in Cheapside, and two in Wood-street, one of which was but a short distance from the grocer's habitation. A watchman was stationed at the door, and the red cross marked upon it, and on the following night the grocer heard the sound of the doleful bell announcing the approach of the pest-cart.

The weather still continued as serene and beautiful as ever, but no refreshing showers fell--no soft and healthful breezes blew--and it was now found to be true, what had been prognosticated--viz, that with the heats of summer the plague would fearfully increase. The grocer was not incommoded in the same degree as his neighbours. By excluding the light he excluded the heat, and the care which he took to have his house washed down kept it cool. The middle of June had arrived, and such dismal accounts were now brought him of the havoc occasioned by the scourge, that he would no longer take in fresh provisions, but began to open his stores. Dallison told him that the alarm was worse than ever--that vast numbers were endeavouring to leave the city, but no one could now do so without a certificate, which was never granted if the slightest suspicion was attached to the party.

"If things go on in this way," said the porter, "London will soon be deserted. No business is conducted, as it used to be, and everybody is viewed with distrust. The preachers, who ought to be the last to quit, have left their churches, and the Lord's day is no longer observed. Many medical men even have departed, declaring their services are no longer of any avail. All public amusements are suspended, and the taverns are only open to the profane and dissolute, who deride God's judgments, and declare they have no fear. Robberies, murders, and other crimes, have greatly increased, and the most dreadful deeds are now committed with impunity. You have done wisely, sir, in protecting yourself against them."

"I have reason to be thankful that I have done so," replied Bloundel. And he closed his shutter to meditate on what he had just heard.

And there was abundant food for reflection. Around him lay a great and populous city, hemmed in, as by a fire, by an exterminating plague, that spared neither age, condition, nor sex. No man could tell what the end of all this would be--neither at what point the wrath of the offended Deity would stop--nor whether He would relent, till He had utterly destroyed a people who so contemned his word. Scarcely daring to hope for leniency, and filled with a dreadful foreboding of what would ensue, the grocer addressed a long and fervent supplication to Heaven, imploring a mitigation of its wrath.

On joining his family, his grave manner and silence showed how powerfully he had been affected. No one questioned him as to what had occurred, but all understood he had received some distressing intelligence.

Amid his anxiety one circumstance gave him unalloyed satisfaction. This was the change wrought in Amabel's character. It has been stated that she had become extremely devout, and passed the whole of the time not appointed for other occupations, in the study of the Scriptures, or in prayer. Her manner was extremely sedate, and her conversation assumed a tone