But, in spite of his resistance, they would have soon compelled him to relinquish his charge, if Solomon Eagle, who had hitherto contented himself with gazing sternly on what was passing, had not interfered; and, rushing towards the combatants, seized Rochester and Etherege, and hurled them backwards with almost supernatural force.  When they arose, and menaced him with their swords, he laughed loudly and contemptuously, crying, “Advance, if ye dare! and try your strength against one armed by Heaven, and ye will find how far it will avail.”

At this juncture, Leonard Holt heard a musical voice behind him, and turning, beheld Nizza Macascree.  She beckoned him to follow her; and, raising Amabel in his arms, he ran towards the door leading to Saint Faith’s, through which his conductress passed.  All this was the work of a moment, and when Rochester and Etherege, who rushed after him, tried the door, they found it fastened withinside.

Just then, a loud knocking was heard at the northern entrance of the cathedral, and a verger answering the summons, Mr. Bloundel and Blaize were admitted.  On beholding the newcomers, Rochester and his companions were filled with confusion.  Equally astonished at the recounter, the grocer grasped his staff, and rushing up to the earl, demanded, in a voice that made the other, despite his natural audacity, quail—­“Where is my child, my lord?  What have you done with her?”

“I know nothing about her,” replied Rochester, with affected carelessness.—­“Yes, I am wrong,” he added, as if recollecting himself; “lam told she has run away with your apprentice.”

Pillichody, who had changed his attire since his escape from the grocer’s dwelling, thought he might now venture to address him without fear of discovery, and, setting his arms a-kimbo, and assuming a swaggering demeanour, strutted forward and said, “Your daughter has just been wedded to Leonard Holt, Mr. Bloundel.”

“It is false,” cried Bloundel, “as false as the character you just personated, for I recognise you as the knave who recently appeared before me as a watchman.”

“I pledge you my word as a nobleman,” interposed Rochester, “that your daughter has just descended to Saint Faith’s with your apprentice.”

“I can corroborate his lordship’s assertion,” said Etherege.

“And I,” added Pillichody.  “By the holy apostle to whom this fane is dedicated! it is so.”

“To convince you that we speak the truth, we will go with you and assist you to search,” said Rochester.

Attaching little credit to what he heard, and yet unwilling to lose a chance of recovering his daughter, the grocer rushed to the door indicated by his informant, but found it fastened.

“You had better go to the main entrance,” said one of the vergers; “I have the keys with me, and will admit you.”

“I will keep guard here till you return,” said another verger

Accompanied by Rochester and Etherege, Bloundel then proceeded to the chief door of the subterranean church.  It was situated at the south of the cathedral, between two of the larger buttresses, and at the foot of a flight of stone steps.  On reaching it, the verger produced his keys, but they were of no avail, for the door was barred withinside.  After many fruitless attempts to obtain admission, they were fain to give up the attempt.