While preparing to set out, Leonard again debated with himself whether he should acquaint his master with Maurice Wyvil’s meditated visit.  But conceiving it wholly impossible that Amabel could leave her mother’s room, even if she were disposed to do so, he determined to let the affair take its course.  On his way to the shop, he entered a small room occupied by Blaize, and found him seated near a table, with his hands upon his knees, and his eyes fixed upon the ground, looking the very image of despair.  The atmosphere smelt like that of an apothecary’s shop, and was so overpowering, that Leonard could scarcely breathe.  The table was covered with pill-boxes and phials, most of which were emptied, and a dim light was afforded by a candle with a most portentous crest of snuff.

“So you have been poisoning yourself, I perceive,” observed Leonard, approaching him.

“Keep off!” cried the porter, springing suddenly to his feet.  “Don’t touch me, I say.  Poisoning myself!  I have taken three rufuses, or pestilential pills; two spoonfuls of alexiteral water; the same quantity of anti-pestilential decoction; half as much of Sir Theodore Mayerne’s electuary; and a large dose of orvietan.  Do you call that poisoning myself?  I call it taking proper precaution, and would recommend you to do the same.  Beside this, I have sprinkled myself with vinegar, fumigated my clothes, and rubbed my nose, inside and out, till it smarted so intolerably, I was obliged to desist, with balsam of sulphur.”

“Well, well, if you don’t escape the plague, it won’t be your fault,” returned Leonard, scarcely able to refrain from laughing.  “But I have something to tell you before I go.”

“What is the matter?” demanded Blaize, in alarm.  “Where—­where are you going?”

“To fetch the doctor,” replied Leonard.

“Is Master Stephen worse?” rejoined the porter.

“On the contrary, I hope he is better,” replied Leonard “I shall be back directly, but as I have to give notice to the Examiner of Health that the house is infected, I may be detained a few minutes longer than I anticipate.  Keep the street-door locked; I will fasten the yard-gate, and do not for your life let any one in, except Doctor Hodges, till I return.  Do you hear?—­do you understand what I say?”

“Yes, I hear plain enough,” growled Blaize.  “You say that the house is infected, and that we shall all be locked up.”

“Dolt!” exclaimed the apprentice, “I said no such thing.”  And he repeated his injunctions, but Blaize was too much terrified to comprehend them.  At last, losing all patience, Leonard cried in a menacing tone, “If you do not attend to me, I will cudgel you within an inch of your life, and you will find the thrashing harder to bear even than the plague itself.  Rouse yourself, fool, and follow me.”

Accompanied by the porter, he hurried to the yard-gate, saw it bolted within-side, and then returned to the shop, where, having found his cap and cudgel, he directed Blaize to lock the door after him, cautioning him, for the third time, not to admit any one except the doctor.  “If I find, on my return, that you have neglected my injunctions,” he concluded, “as sure as I now stand before you, I’ll break every bone in your body.”