Too much shocked to make any reply, the young man proceeded towards the hutch.  Beneath a doorway, at a little distance from it, sat a watchman with a halberd on his shoulder, guarding the house; but it was evident he would be of little further use.  His face was covered with his hands, and his groans proclaimed that he himself was attacked by the pestilence.  Entering the hutch, the young man pulled the cord of the bell, and the summons was soon after answered by the grocer, who appeared at the window.  “What, Leonard Holt!” he exclaimed, in surprise, on seeing the young man—­“is it you?—­what ails you?—­you look frightfully ill.”

“I have been attacked a second time by the plague,” replied the apprentice, “and am only just recovered from it.”

“What of my child?” cried the grocer eagerly—­“what of her?”

“Alas! alas!” exclaimed the apprentice.

“Do not keep me in suspense,” rejoined the grocer.  “Is she dead?”

“No, not dead,” replied the apprentice, “but—­”

“But what?” ejaculated the grocer.  “In Heaven’s name, speak!”

“These letters will tell you all,” replied the apprentice, producing a packet.  “I had prepared them to send to you in case of my death.  I am not equal to further explanation now.”

With trembling eagerness the grocer lowered the rope, and Leonard having tied the packet to it, it was instantly drawn up.  Notwithstanding his anxiety to ascertain the fate of Amabel, Mr. Bloundel would not touch the packet until he had guarded against the possibility of being infected by it.  Seizing it with a pair of tongs, he plunged it into a pan containing a strong solution of vinegar and sulphur, which he had always in readiness in the chamber, and when thoroughly saturated, laid it in the sun to dry.  On first opening the shutter to answer Leonard’s summons, he had flashed off a pistol, and he now thought to expel the external air by setting fire to a ball composed of quick brimstone, saltpetre, and yellow amber, which being placed on an iron plate, speedily filled the room with a thick vapour, and prevented the entrance of any obnoxious particles.  These precautions taken, he again addressed himself, while the packet was drying, to Leonard, whom he found gazing anxiously at the window, and informed him that all his family had hitherto escaped contagion.

“A special providence must have watched over you, sir,” replied the apprentice, “and I believe yours is the only family in the whole city that has been so spared.  I have reason to be grateful for my own extraordinary preservation, and yet I would rather it had pleased Heaven to take me away than leave me to my present misery.”

“You keep me in a frightful state of suspense, Leonard,” rejoined the grocer, regarding the packet wistfully, “for I dare not open your letters till they are thoroughly fumigated.  You assure me my child is living.  Has she been attacked by the plague?”