“I will make it worth her while to do so,” rejoined Parravicin.

“Here is the cart,” cried Chowles, seeing the vehicle approach.  “I will take you in the first place to Saint Paul’s.  Judith must see you as soon as possible.”

“Take me where you please,” rejoined Parravicin, faintly; “and remember what I have said.  If I die, the nurse will get nothing—­if I am cured, she shall be proportionately rewarded.”

“I will not forget it,” replied Chowles.  And with the help of Jonas he placed the knight carefully in the cart.  “You need not trouble yourself further about him,” he added to Leonard.

“Before be quits this place I must know who he is,” rejoined the latter, placing himself at the horse’s head.

“You know his name as well as I do,” replied Chowles.

“Parravicin is not his real name,” rejoined Leonard.

“Indeed!” exclaimed Chowles, “this is news to me.  But no matter who he is, he is rich enough to pay well.  So stand aside, and let us go.  We have no time to waste in further parleying.”

“I will not move till my question is answered,” replied Leonard.

“We will see to that,” said Jonas, approaching him behind, and dealing him so severe a blow on the head that he stretched him senseless on the ground?  “Shall we throw him into the pit?” he added to Chowles.

The latter hesitated for a moment, and then said, “No, no, it is not worth while.  It may bring us into trouble.  We have no time to lose.”  And they then put the cart in motion, and took the way to Saint Paul’s.

On coming to himself, Leonard had some difficulty in recalling what had happened; and when the whole train of circumstances rushed upon his mind, he congratulated himself that he had escaped further injury.  “When I think of the hands I have been placed in,” he murmured, “I cannot but be grateful that they did not throw me into the pit, where no discovery could have been made as to how I came to an end.  But I will not rest till I have ascertained the name and rank of Nizza’s persecutor.  I have no doubt they have taken him to Saint Paul’s, and will proceed thither at once.”

With this view, he hastened towards the nearest city gate, and passing towards it, shaped his course towards the cathedral.  It was a fine starlight night, and though there was no moon, the myriad lustres glowing in the deep and cloudless vault rendered every object plainly distinguishable.  At this hour, little restraint was placed upon the sick, and they wandered about the streets uttering dismal cries.  Some would fling themselves upon bulks or steps, where they were not unfrequently found the next morning bereft of life.  Most of those not attacked by the distemper kept close house; but there were some few reckless beings who passed the night in the wildest revelry, braving the fate awaiting them.  As Leonard passed Saint Michael’s church, in Basinghall-street, he perceived, to his great surprise, that it was lighted