Nizza did not require a second exhortation, but quitting the cell, and noticing its situation, swiftly descended the winding staircase, and hurrying along the northern aisle, proceeded to a small chamber beneath the tower at its western extremity, which she knew was occupied by one of the vergers.  Speedily arousing him, she told him her errand, and implored him to remain on the watch till she returned with Doctor Hodges.  The verger promised compliance; and, opening a wicket in the great doorway, allowed her to go forth.  A few seconds brought her to the doctor’s dwelling, and though it was an hour after midnight, her summons was promptly answered by the old porter, who conveyed her message to his master.  Doctor Hodges had just retired to rest; but, on learning in whose behalf his services were required, he sprang out of bed, and hastily slipped on his clothes.

“I would not, for half I am worth, that that poor youth should perish,” he cried.  “I take a great interest in him—­a very great interest.  He must not be neglected.  How comes he at Saint Paul’s, I wonder?  But I can obtain information on that point as I go thither.  No time must be lost.”

Ruminating thus, he swallowed a glass of sack, and providing himself with a case of instruments, and such medicines as he thought he might require, he descended to Nizza.  On the way to the cathedral, she acquainted him with what had befallen Leonard during the last four-and-twenty hours, and the only circumstance that she kept back was Judith’s attempt on his life.  This she intended to reveal at a more fitting opportunity.  The doctor expressed somewhat emphatically his disapproval of the conduct of Mr. Bloundel, but promised to set all to rights without loss of time.

“The only difficulty I foresee,” he observed, “is that the poor youth is attacked by the pestilence; and though I may succeed in curing him, his master will probably have shut up his house before I can accomplish my object, in which case, all chance of his union with Amabel will be at an end.”

“So much the better,” rejoined Nizza, sharply; “she does not deserve him.”

“There I agree with you,” returned Hodges.  “But could you point out any one who does?” he added, with a slight but significant laugh.

No answer was returned; and as they had just reached the portico of the cathedral, they entered the sacred structure in silence.

As they ascended the winding stairs, loud outcries resounded along the ambulatory, and echoed by the vaulted roof of the nave, convinced them that the sufferer was again in a state of frenzy, produced by fever and the anguish of his sore; and on reaching the cell they found him struggling violently with Solomon Eagle, who held him down by main force.

“He is in a fearfully excited state, truly,” observed Hodges, as he drew near, “and must not be left for a moment, or he will do himself a mischief.  I must give him a draught to allay the fever, and compose his nerves—­for in this state I dare not have recourse to the lancet.”