With this he dressed the tumour; and pouring the contents of a large phial which he had brought with him in a cup, he held it to the burning lips of the apprentice, who eagerly quaffed it.  It was soon apparent that the dose produced a salutary effect, and a second was administered.  Still the sufferer, though calmer, continued to ramble as before—­complained that his veins were filled with molten lead—­entreated them to plunge him in a stream, so that he might cool his intolerable thirst, and appeared to be in great agony.  Doctor Hodges watched by him till daybreak, at which time he sank into a slumber; and Solomon Eagle, who had never till then relinquished his hold of him, now ventured to resign his post.  The doctor was then about to depart; but at the urgent solicitation of Nizza, who had stationed herself at the door of the cell, he agreed to remain a little longer.

Two hours after this, the doors of the cathedral were opened, and a large crowd soon assembled within the nave, as on the preceding day.  The tumult of voices reached the cell and awakened the sleeper.  Before he could be prevented he started from his bed, and dashing aside the feeble opposition offered by Nizza and the doctor, ran along the ambulatory, uttering a loud and fearful cry.  Finding the door of the winding staircase open, he darted through it, and in a few seconds reappeared in the aisle.  Hearing the cries, several persons rushed to meet him; but on beholding his haggard looks and strange appearance—­he was merely wrapped in a blanket,—­they instantly recoiled.  Mean-time, Doctor Hodges, who had run to one of the arched openings looking on the nave, called out to them to secure the fugitive.  But all fled at his approach; and when he reached the door of the southern transept, the verger, instead of attempting to stop him, retreated with a cry of alarm.  As he passed through the outlet, one man bolder than the rest caught hold of him, and endeavoured to detain him.  But, leaving the blanket in his hands, and without other covering than his shirt, the apprentice dashed across the churchyard—­next shaped his course down Saint Bennet’s-hill—­then crossed Thames-street,—­and finally speeding along another narrow thoroughfare, reached Paul’s Wharf.  Gazing for a moment at the current sweeping past him—­it was high-tide,—­he plunged head foremost into it from the high embankment, and on rising to the surface, being a strong and expert swimmer, struck out for the opposite shore.  Those who beheld him were filled with amazement; but such was the alarm occasioned by his appearance, that none ventured to interfere with him.  He had not crossed more than a fourth part of the stream when Doctor Hodges arrived at the wharf; but neither promises of reward nor threats could induce any of the watermen to follow him.  The humane physician would have sprung into a boat, but feeling he should be wholly unable to manage it, he most reluctantly abandoned his purpose.  Scarcely doubting what the result