“If things go on in this way,” said the porter, “London will soon be deserted.  No business is conducted, as it used to be, and everybody is viewed with distrust.  The preachers, who ought to be the last to quit, have left their churches, and the Lord’s day is no longer observed.  Many medical men even have departed, declaring their services are no longer of any avail.  All public amusements are suspended, and the taverns are only open to the profane and dissolute, who deride God’s judgments, and declare they have no fear.  Robberies, murders, and other crimes, have greatly increased, and the most dreadful deeds are now committed with impunity.  You have done wisely, sir, in protecting yourself against them.”

“I have reason to be thankful that I have done so,” replied Bloundel.  And he closed his shutter to meditate on what he had just heard.

And there was abundant food for reflection.  Around him lay a great and populous city, hemmed in, as by a fire, by an exterminating plague, that spared neither age, condition, nor sex.  No man could tell what the end of all this would be—­neither at what point the wrath of the offended Deity would stop—­nor whether He would relent, till He had utterly destroyed a people who so contemned his word.  Scarcely daring to hope for leniency, and filled with a dreadful foreboding of what would ensue, the grocer addressed a long and fervent supplication to Heaven, imploring a mitigation of its wrath.

On joining his family, his grave manner and silence showed how powerfully he had been affected.  No one questioned him as to what had occurred, but all understood he had received some distressing intelligence.

Amid his anxiety one circumstance gave him unalloyed satisfaction.  This was the change wrought in Amabel’s character.  It has been stated that she had become extremely devout, and passed the whole of the time not appointed for other occupations, in the study of the Scriptures, or in prayer.  Her manner was extremely sedate, and her conversation assumed a tone that gave her parents, and especially her father, inexpressible pleasure.  Mrs. Bloundel would have been equally delighted with the change, if it had tended to forward her own favourite scheme of a union with Leonard; but as this was not the case, though she rejoiced in the improvement, she still was not entirely satisfied.  She could not help noting also, that her daughter had become pale and thin, and though she uttered no complaint, Mrs. Bloundel began to fear her health was declining.  Leonard Holt looked on in wonder and admiration, and if possible his love increased, though his hopes diminished; for though Amabel was kinder to him than before, her kindness seemed the result rather of a sense of duty than regard.

Upon one occasion they were left alone together, and instead of quitting the room, as she had been accustomed, Amabel called to Leonard, who was about to depart, and requested him to stay.  The apprentice instantly obeyed; the colour forsook his cheek, and his heart beat violently.