Here he debated with himself whether to proceed further or turn back; but at length, curiosity got the best of his fears, and he went on.  A few steps brought him into the open fields, and fancying he saw Leonard at a little distance before him, he hurried on in that direction.  But he soon found he had been deceived by the stump of a tree, and began to fear he must have taken the wrong course.  He looked around in vain for some object to guide him.  The darkness was so profound that he could see nothing, and he set off again at random, and not without much self-reproach and misgiving.  At last, he reached a hedge, and continued to skirt it, until he perceived through the bushes the light of a lantern in the adjoining field.  He immediately called out, but at the cry the light disappeared.  This did not prevent him from making towards the spot where he had seen it; but he had not proceeded far when he was forcibly seized by some unseen person, thrown on the ground, and a drawn sword—­for he felt the point—­placed at his throat.

“Utter a cry, and it is your last,” cried a stern voice.  “Where is he?”

“Who—­who?” demanded Blaize, half dead with terror.

“He whom you appointed to meet,” replied the unknown.

“I appointed to meet no one,” rejoined Blaize.

“Liar!” exclaimed the other; “if you do not instantly lead me to him, I will cut your throat.”

“I will lead you wherever you please, if you will only let me get up,” rejoined Blaize, with difficulty repressing a cry.

“By the daughters of Nox and Acheron!” exclaimed a voice which sounded like music in the porter’s ears, “I think you are mistaken in your man, my lord.  It does not sound like the apprentice’s voice.”

“It is not the apprentice’s voice, good Major Pillichody,” rejoined the porter.  “It is mine, your friend—­Blaize’s.”

“Blaize!” exclaimed Pillichody, unmasking a dark lantern, and revealing the terror-stricken countenance of the porter; “so it is.  In the devil’s name, what are you doing here?”

“The devil himself, who put it into my head to come, only knows,” replied Blaize; “but I followed Leonard Holt.”

“Which way did he take?” asked the person who had assailed him.

“I cannot exactly say,” replied Blaize, “but he seemed to go straight into the fields.”

“He is no doubt gone to the plague-pit,” replied the other.  “You are now at liberty,” he added to Blaize, “and I counsel you to make the best of your way home.  Say nothing to your master of what has occurred.  The city walls lie in that direction.”