should meet again," he rejoined; "and I have kept my
word."

"Think not to deceive me, my lord," she returned, controlling her
emotion by a powerful effort. "I am aware you are not Maurice Wyvil, but
the Earl of Rochester. Your love is as false as your character. Mistress
Mallet is the real object of your regards. You see I am acquainted with
your perfidy."

"Amabel, you are deceived," replied Rochester. "On my soul, you are.
When I have an opportunity of explaining myself more fully, I will prove
to you that I was induced by the king, for an especial purpose, to pay
feigned addresses to the lady you have named. But I never loved her. You
alone are the possessor of my heart, and shall be the sharer of my
title. You shall be Countess of Rochester."

"Could I believe you?" she cried.

"You _may_ believe me," he answered. "Do not blight my hopes and your
own happiness a second time. Your father is about to shut up his house
for a twelvemonth, if the plague lasts so long. This done, we shall meet
no more, for access to you will be impossible. Do not hesitate, or you
will for ever rue your irresolution."

"I know not what to do," cried Amabel, distractedly.

"Then I will decide for you," replied the earl, grasping her hand.
"Come!"

While this was passing, Furbisher, or rather, as will be surmised,
Pillichody, had taken Blaize aside, and engaged his attention by
dilating upon the efficacy of a roasted onion filled with treacle in the
expulsion of the plague. Patience stationed herself near the door, not
with a view of interfering with the lovers, but rather of assisting
them; and at the very moment that the earl seized his mistress's hand,
and would have drawn her forward, she ran towards them, and hastily
whispered, "Leonard Holt is coming downstairs."

"Ah! I am lost!" cried Amabel.

"Fear nothing," said the earl. "Keep near me, and I will soon dispose of
him."

As he spoke, the apprentice entered the kitchen, and, greatly surprised
by the appearance of the strangers, angrily demanded from Blaize who
they were.

"They are two doctors come to give me advice respecting the plague,"
stammered the porter.

"How did they get into the house?" inquired Leonard.

"I let them in through the back door," replied Blaize.

"Then let them out by the same way," rejoined the apprentice. "May I ask
what you are doing here?" he added, to Amabel.

"What is that to you, fellow?" cried Rochester, in his assumed voice.

"M