“Don’t be afraid,” returned Judith, laughing at his alarm.  “I’ll take every care of you.  We are necessary to each other.”

“So we are,” replied Chowles; “so we are; and if nothing else could, that consideration would make us true to each other.”

“Of course,” assented Judith.  “Let us reap as rich a harvest as we can, and when the scourge is over, we can enjoy ourselves upon the spoils.”

“Exactly so,” replied Chowles.  “My business is daily-hourly on the increase.  My men are incessantly employed, and my only fear is that an order will be issued to bury the dead without coffins.”

“Not unlikely,” replied Mrs. Malmayns.  “But there are plenty of ways of getting money in a season like this.  If one fails, we must resort to another.  I shall make all I can, and in the shortest manner.”

“Right!” cried Chowles, with, an atrocious laugh.  “Right! ha! ha!”

“I have found out a means of propagating the distemper,” pursued Judith, in a low tone, and with a mysterious air, “of inoculating whomsoever I please with the plague-venom.  I have tried the experiment on Mr. Quatremain and that youth, and you see how well it has answered in both instances.”

“I do,” replied Chowles, looking askance at her.  “But why destroy the poor minor canon?”

“Because I want to get hold of the treasure discovered by the help of the Mosaical rods in Saint Faith’s, which by right belonged to my husband, and which is now in Mr. Quatremain’s possession,” replied Judith.

“I understand,” nodded Chowles.

While they were thus conversing, Nizza Macascree again returned, and informed them that she could not find her father.  “He has left the cathedral,” she said, “and will not, probably, return till nightfall.”

“I am sorry for it, on your account,” observed Judith, coldly.

“Why, you will not have the cruelty to neglect the poor young man till then—­you will take proper precautions?” exclaimed Nizza.

“Why should I exert myself for one about whose recovery I am indifferent?” said Judith.

“Why?” exclaimed Nizza.  “But it is in vain to argue with you.  I must appeal to your avarice, since you are deaf to the pleadings of humanity.  I have just bethought me that I have an old gold coin, which was given me years ago by my father.  He told me it had been my mother’s, and charged me not to part with it.  I never should have done so, except in an emergency like the present.”

As she spoke, she drew from her bosom a broad gold piece.  A hole was bored through it, and it was suspended from her neck by a chain of twisted hair.

“Let me look at it,” said Judith taking the coin.  “Who gave you this?” she asked, in an altered tone.

“My father?” replied Nizza; “I have just told you so.  It was my mother’s.”

“Impossible!” exclaimed Judith!

“Have you ever seen it before?” inquired Nizza, astonished at the change in the nurse’s manner.