On arriving at their destination, they were readily admitted to the asylum; but a slight difficulty arose, which, however, was speedily obviated.  All the couches were filled, but on examining them it was found that one of the sick persons had just been released from his sufferings, and the body being removed, the piper was allowed to take its place.  Leonard remained by him for a short time, but, overpowered by the pestilential effluvia, and the sight of so many miserable objects, he was compelled to seek the open air.  Returning, however, shortly afterwards, he found the piper in a very perturbed state.  On hearing Leonard’s voice he appeared greatly relieved, and, taking his gown from beneath his pillow, gave it to him, and desired him to unrip a part of the garment, in which it was evident something was sewn.  The apprentice complied, and a small packet dropped forth.

“Take it,” said the piper; “and if I die,—­and Nizza should happily be preserved from her ravisher, give it her.  But not otherwise—­not otherwise.  Implore her to forgive me—­to pity me.”

“Forgive you—­her father?” cried Leonard, in astonishment.

“That packet will explain all,” replied the piper in a troubled tone.  “You promised to take charge of poor Bell,” he added, drawing forth the little animal, who had crept to the foot of the bed, “here she is.  Farewell! my faithful friend,” he added, pressing his rough lips to her forehead, while she whined piteously, as if beseeching him to allow her to remain; “farewell for ever.”

“Not for ever, I trust,” replied Leonard, taking her gently from him.

“And now you had better go,” said the piper.  “Return, if you can, to-morrow.”

“I will,—­I will,” replied Leonard; and he hurried out of the room.

He was followed to the door by the young chirurgeon—­the same who had accompanied Mr. Bloundel during his inspection of the pest-house,—­and he inquired of him if he thought the piper’s case utterly hopeless.

“Not utterly so,” replied the young man.  “I shall be able to speak more positively in a few hours.  At present, I think, with care and attention, there is a chance of his recovery.”

Much comforted by this assurance, Leonard departed, and afraid to put Bell to the ground lest she should run back to her master, he continued to carry her, and endeavoured to attach her to him by caresses and endearments.  The little animal showed her sense of his kindness by licking his hands, but she still remained inconsolable, and ever and anon struggled to get free.  Making the best of his way to Wood-street, he entered the hutch, and placing a little straw in one corner for Bell, threw himself on a bench and dropped asleep.  At six o’clock he was awakened by the barking of the dog, and opening the door beheld Dallison.  The grocer was at the window above, and about to let down a basket of provisions to them.  To Leonard’s eager inquiries after Amabel, Mr.