“Nothing can be better,” replied Hodges; “but who is to escort her thither?”

“Leonard Holt,” replied Mr. Bloundel.  “He will gladly undertake the office.”

“No doubt,” rejoined Hodges; “but cannot you go yourself?”

“Impossible!” returned the grocer, a shade passing over his countenance.

“Neither do I wish it,” observed Amabel.  “I am content to be under the safeguard of Leonard.”

“Amabel,” said her father, “you know not what I shall endure in thus parting with you.  I would give all I possess to be able to accompany you, but a sense of duty restrains me.  I have taken the resolution to remain here with my family during the continuance of the pestilence, and I must abide by it.  I little thought how severely my constancy would be tried.  But hard though it be, I must submit I shall commit you, therefore, to the care of an all-merciful Providence, who will not fail to watch over and protect you.”

“Have no fear for me, father,” replied Amabel; “and do not weep, dear mother,” she added to Mrs. Bloundel, who, unable to restrain her grief, was now drowned in tears; “I shall be well cared for.  If we meet no more in this world, our reunion is certain in that to come.  I have given you much pain and uneasiness, but it will be an additional grief to me if I think you feel further anxiety on my account.”

“We do not, my dear child,” replied Mr. Bloundel.  “I am well assured all is for the best, and if it pleases Heaven to spare you, I shall rejoice beyond measure in your return.  If not, I shall feel a firm reliance that you will continue in the same happy frame, as at present, to the last, and that we shall meet above, where there will be no further separation.”

“I cannot bear to part with her,” cried Mrs. Bloundel, clasping her arms round her daughter—­“I cannot—­I cannot!”

“Restrain yourself, Honora,” said her husband; “you will do her an injury.”

“She must not be over excited,” interposed Hodges, in a low tone, and gently drawing the afflicted mother away.  “The sooner,” he added to Mr. Bloundel, “she now sets out the better.”

“I feel it,” replied the grocer.  “She shall start to-morrow morning.”

“I will undertake to procure horses,” replied Hodges, “and Leonard will be ready at any moment.”

With this, he took his leave, and descending by the pulley, communicated to Leonard what had occurred.

In spite of his fears on her account, the prospect of again beholding Amabel so transported the apprentice that he could scarcely attend to what was said respecting her.  When he grew calmer, it was arranged that all should be in readiness at an early hour on the following morning; that a couple of horses should be provided; and that Amabel should be let down fully equipped for the journey.  This settled, Leonard, at the doctor’s request, accompanied him to his residence.

They were scarcely out of sight, when a man, who had been concealed behind the hutch, in such a position that not a word that had passed escaped him, issued from his hiding-place, and darting down the first alley on the right, made the best of his way to Whitehall.