many minutes, when the conflagration of the
cathedral assumed its most terrific character; the whole of the mighty
roof falling in, and the flames soaring upwards, as before related. Up
to this time, Solomon Eagle had maintained his position at the eastern
end of the roof, and still grasped the stone cross. His situation now
attracted universal attention, for it was evident he must speedily
perish.

"Poor wretch!" exclaimed the king, shuddering, "I fear there is no way
of saving him."

"None, whatever my liege," replied Rochester, "nor do I believe he would
consent to it if there were. But he is again menacing your majesty."

As Rochester spoke, Solomon Eagle shook his arm menacingly at the royal
party, raising it aloft, as if invoking the vengeance of Heaven. He then
knelt down upon the sloping ridge of the roof, as if in prayer, and his
figure, thus seen relieved against the mighty sheet of flame, might have
been taken for an image of Saint John the Baptist carved in stone. Not
an eye in the vast crowd below but was fixed on him. In a few moments he
rose again, and tossing his arms aloft, and shrieking, in a voice
distinctly heard above the awful roar around him, the single word
"_Resurgam!_" flung himself headlong into the flaming abyss. A
simultaneous cry of horror rose from the whole assemblage on beholding
this desperate action.

"The last exclamation of the poor wretch may apply to the cathedral, as
well as to himself," remarked the monarch, to a middle-aged personage,
with a pleasing and highly intellectual countenance, standing near him:
"for the old building shall rise again, like a phoenix from its fires,
with renewed beauty, and under your superintendence, Doctor Christopher
Wren."

The great architect bowed. "I cannot hope to erect such another
structure," he said, modestly; "but I will endeavour to design an
edifice that shall not disgrace your majesty's city."

"You must build me another city at the same time, Doctor Wren," sighed
the king. "Ah!" he added, "is not that Mr. Lilly, the almanac-maker,
whom I see among the crowd?"

"It is," replied Rochester.

"Bid him come to me," replied the king. And the order being obeyed, he
said to the astrologer, "Well, Mr. Lilly, your second prediction has
come to pass. We have had the Plague, and now we have the Fire. You may
thank my clemency that I do not order you to be cast into the flames,
like the poor wretch who has just perished before our eyes, as