le there was yet time, adding that in a few
moments it would be too late.

"I shall never quit it more," rejoined the enthusiast, in a voice of
thunder, "but shall perish with the fire I have kindled. No monarch on
earth ever lighted a nobler funeral pyre."

And as Leonard passed through the window, he disappeared along the
gallery. Breaking through the crowd collected round Wingfield and
Blaize, and calling to them to follow him, Leonard made his way to the
north-east of the churchyard, where he found a large assemblage of
persons, in the midst of which were the king, the Duke of York,
Rochester, Arlington, and many others. As Leonard advanced, Charles
discerned him amid the crowd, and motioned him to come forward. A
passage was then cleared, for him, through which Wingfield and Blaize,
who kept close beside him, were permitted to pass.

"I am glad to find no harm has happened to you, friend," said Charles,
as he approached. "Rochester informed me you were gone to Newgate, and
as the gaol had been burnt down, I feared you might have met with the
same mishap. I now regret that I did not adopt your plan, but it may not
be yet too late."

"It is not too late to save a portion of your city, sire," replied
Leonard; "but, alas! how much is gone!"

"It is so," replied the king, mournfully.

Further conversation was here interrupted by the sudden breaking out of
the fire from the magnificent rose window of the cathedral, the effect
of which, being extraordinarily fine, attracted the monarch's attention.
By this time Solomon Eagle had again ascended the roof, and making his
way to the eastern extremity, clasped the great stone cross that
terminated it with his left hand, while with his right he menaced the
king and his party, uttering denunciations that were lost in the
terrible roar prevailing around him. The flames now raged with a
fierceness wholly inconceivable, considering the material they had to
work upon. The molten lead poured down in torrents, and not merely
flooded the whole interior of the fabric, but ran down in a wide and
boiling stream almost as far as the Thames, consuming everything in its
way, and rendering the very pavements red-hot. Every stone, spout, and
gutter in the sacred pile, of which there were some hundreds, added to
this fatal shower, and scattered destruction far and wide; nor will this
be wondered at when it is considered that the quantity of lead thus
melted covered a space of no less tha