“This is, indeed, a sad and striking lesson,” he said, “and I hope will not be lost upon those who have witnessed it.  It shows the utter impotency of a struggle against the Divine will, and that when a man relies upon himself for preservation, he depends upon a broken reed.  If I did not place myself under Heaven’s protection, I should be sure that all my own precautions were unavailing.  I am now about to call up my family to prayer.  You can join us in our supplications, and I trust they will not be unheard.”

Closing the window, the grocer retired, and Leonard returned to the hutch, where he fell upon his knees, and as soon as he supposed the family were gathered together, commenced his own prayers.  He pictured the whole group assembled—­the fervour of the grocer excited to an unwonted pitch by what had just occurred—­the earnest countenances of his wife and the younger children—­and the exalted looks of Amabel.  He could not see her—­neither could he hear her voice—­but he fancied how she looked, and in what terms she prayed—­and it was no slight satisfaction to him to think that his own voice ascended to Heaven coupled with hers.

On quitting the hutch, he found Dallison conversing with Doctor Hodges.  The physician expressed great surprise at seeing him, and inquired how he came to have left his master’s house.  Leonard related all that had happened, and besought his assistance in Nizza’s behalf.

“I will do all I can for her,” replied Hodges, “for I feel greatly interested about her.  But who is this Sir Paul Parravicin?  I never heard of him.”

“I know nothing more of him than what I have told you, sir,” replied Leonard.  “He is a friend of the Earl of Rochester.”

“It must be a feigned name,” rejoined Hodges; “but I will speedily find him out.  You must lodge at my house tonight.  It will be better for you than sleeping in that damp shed.  But, first, I must have a word or two with your master.  I have been abroad all night, and came hither to ascertain what he thought of this plan of the fires, and what he had done.  How do you give the signal to him?”

“There is a cord within the hutch by which you can sound a bell within his chamber,” returned Leonard; “I will ring it.”

Accordingly, he did so, and the summons was almost instantly answered by the grocer.  A kindly greeting passed between the latter and Hodges, who inquired whether all was going on satisfactorily within, and whether anything could be done for the family.

“I would not have disturbed you at this unseasonable hour,” he said, “but chancing to be in your neighbourhood, and thinking it likely you would be on the watch, I called to have a word with you.  Though I could not foresee what would happen, I entirely disapproved of these fires as likely to increase rather than check the pestilence.”

“The hand of Heaven has extinguished them because they were lighted in opposition to its decrees,” replied Bloundel; “but you have asked me whether all is going on well within.  I should answer readily in the affirmative, but that my wife expresses much anxiety respecting Amabel.  We have no longer any apprehension of misconduct.  She is all we could desire—­serious and devout.  But we have fears for her health.  The confinement may be too much for her.  What would you recommend?”