“You plead in vain,” returned Leonard, firmly.

“Reflect,” cried Grant, in an agonised tone.  “A word from you will not only win you Isabella, but save the city from destruction.”

“Save the city!” exclaimed Leonard.  “What mean you?”

“Swear to comply with my request, and you shall know.  But not otherwise,” replied Grant.

“I cannot—­I cannot,” rejoined Leonard; “and unfortunately you have said too much for your own safety.  I must, though most reluctantly, detain you.”

“Hear me, Leonard, and consider well what you do,” cried Grant, planting himself before the door.  “I love you next to my daughter, and chiefly because she loves you.  I have told you I have a design to discover, to which I am a party—­a hellish, horrible design—­which threatens this whole city with destruction.  It is your duty, having told you thus much, to arrest me, and I will offer no resistance.  Will you not turn this to your advantage?  Will you not make a bargain with the king?”

“I have said I will not,” rejoined Leonard.

“Then be warned by me,” rejoined Grant.  “Arouse your partner.  Pack up all your goods and make preparations for instant flight, for the danger will invade you before you are aware of it.”

“Is it fire?” demanded Leonard, upon whose mind the denunciations of Solomon Eagle now rushed.

“You will see,” replied Grant, with a terrible laugh.  “You will repent your determination when it is too late.  Farewell.”

“Hold!” cried Leonard, advancing towards him, and trying to lay hands upon him, “I arrest you in the king’s name.”

“Off!” exclaimed Grant, dashing him forcibly backwards.  And striking down Blaize, who tried to stop him in the passage, he threw open the street-door, and disappeared.  Fearful of pursuit, Grant took a circuitous route to Saint Paul’s, and it was full half an hour after the interview above related before he reached the cathedral.  Just as he passed through the small door, the clock tolled forth the hour of midnight, and when he gained the mid aisle, he heard footsteps approaching, and encountered his friends.

“We had given you up,” said Chowles, “and fearing you intended us some treachery, were about to do the job without you.”

“I have been unavoidably detained,” replied Grant.  “Let us about it at once.”

“I have got the fire-balls with me,” observed Hubert.

“It is well,” returned Grant.

Quitting the cathedral, they proceeded to Thames-street, and tracking it to Fish-street-hill, struck off on the right into an alley that brought them to Pudding-lane.

“This is the house,” said Chowles, halting before a two-storied wooden habitation, over the door of which was suspended the sign of the “Wheat Sheaf, with the name THOMAS FARRYNER, BAKER, inscribed beneath it.

“And here,” said Hubert, “shall begin the great fire of London.”