But Leonard disengaged himself, and hurried away amid the laughter and hootings of the assemblage.  The streets, despite their desolate appearance, were preferable to the spot he had just quitted, and he seemed to breathe more freely when he got to a little distance from the polluted fane.  He had now entered Wood-street, but all was as still as death, and he paused to gaze up at his master’s window, but there was no one at it.  Many a lover, unable to behold the object of his affections, has in some measure satisfied the yearning of his heart by gazing at her dwelling, and feeling he was near her.  Many a sad heart has been cheered by beholding a light at a window, or a shadow on its closed curtains, and such would have been Leonard’s feelings if he had not been depressed by the thought of Amabel’s precarious state of health.

While thus wrapt in mournful thought, he observed three figures slowly approaching from the further end of the street, and he instinctively withdrew into a doorway.  He had reason to congratulate himself upon the precaution, as, when the party drew nearer, he recognised, with a pang that shot to his heart, the voice of Rochester.  A moment’s observation from his place of concealment showed him that the earl was accompanied by Sir George Etherege and Pillichody.  They paused within a short distance of him, and he could distinctly hear their conversation.

“You have not yet told us why you brought us here my lord,” said Etherege to Rochester, after the latter had gazed for a few moments in silence at the house.  “Are you resolved to make another attempt to carry off the girl—­and failing in it, to give her up for ever!”

“You have guessed my purpose precisely,” returned Rochester.  “Doctor Hodges has informed a friend of mine that the pretty Amabel has fallen into a decline.  The poor soul is, doubtless, pining for me; and it would be the height of inhumanity to let her perish.”

Leonard ground his teeth-with suppressed rage.

“Then you mean to make her Countess of Rochester, after all,” laughed Etherege.  “I thought you had determined to carry off Mistress Mallett.”

“Old Bowley declares he will send me to the Tower if I do,” replied Rochester; “and though his threats would scarcely deter me from acting as I think proper, I have no inclination for marriage at present.  What a pity, Etherege, that one cannot in these affairs have the money oneself, and give the wife to one’s friend.”

“That is easily accomplished,” replied Etherege, laughingly; “especially where you have a friend so devoted as myself.  But do you mean to carry off Amabel to-night?”

“Ay, now we come to business,” interposed Pillichody.  “Bolts and barricadoes! your lordship has only to say the word, and I will break into the house, and bear her off for you.”

“Your former conduct is a good guarantee for your present success, truly,” returned Rochester, with a sneer.  “No, no; I shall postpone my design for the present.  I have ascertained, from the source whence I obtained information of Amabel’s illness, that she is to be removed into the country.  This will exactly suit my purpose, and put her completely in my power.”