“Ah!” roared Malmayns, raising himself in bed, as he perceived her, “are you come back again, you she-devil?  Where is my mother?  Where is Kerrich?  What have you done with them?”

“They have both got the plague,” replied his wife.  “They caught it from you.  But never mind them.  I will watch over you as long as you live.”

“And that will be for years, you accursed jade,” replied the sexton; “Dr. Hodges says I shall recover.”

“You have got worse since he left you,” replied Judith.  “Lie down, and let me throw these blankets over you.”

“Off!” cried the sick man, furiously.  “You shall not approach me.  You want to smother me.”

“I want to cure you,” replied his wife, heaping the blankets upon the pallet.  “The doctor has sent some ointment for your sore.”

“Then let him apply it himself,” cried Malmayns, shaking his fist at her.  “You shall not touch me.  I will strangle you if you come near me.”

“Matthew,” replied his wife, “I have had the plague myself, and know how to treat it better than any doctor in London.  I will cure you, if you will let me.”

“I have no faith in you,” replied Malmayns, “but I suppose I must submit.  Take heed what you do to me, for if I have but five minutes to live, it will be long enough to revenge myself upon you.”

“I will anoint your sore with this salve,” rejoined Judith, producing a pot of dark-coloured ointment, and rubbing his shoulder with it.  “It was given me by Sibbald, the apothecary of Clerkenwell He is a friend of Chowles, the coffin-maker.  You know Chowles, Matthew?”

“I know him for as great a rascal as ever breathed,” replied her husband, gruffly.  “He has always cheated me out of my dues, and his coffins are the worst I ever put under ground.”

“He is making his fortune now,” said Judith.

“By the plague, eh?” replied Matthew.  “I don’t envy him.  Money so gained won’t stick to him.  He will never prosper.”

“I wish you had his money, Matthew,” replied his wife, in a coaxing tone.

“If the plague hadn’t attacked me when it did, I should have been richer than Chowles will ever be,” replied the sexton,—­“nay, I am richer as it is.”

“You surprise me,” replied Judith, suddenly pausing in her task.  “How have you obtained your wealth?”

“I have discovered a treasure,” replied, the sexton, with a mocking laugh,—­“a secret hoard—­a chest of gold—­ha! ha!”

“Where—­where?” demanded his wife, eagerly.

“That’s a secret,” replied Matthew.

“I must have it from him before he dies,” thought his wife.  “Had we better not secure it without delay?” she added, aloud.  “Some other person may find it.”

“Oh, it’s safe enough,” replied Matthew.  “It has remained undiscovered for more than a hundred years, and will continue so for a hundred to come, unless I bring it forth.”

“But you will bring it forth, won’t you?” said Judith.