drive off with his prize. Speeding
after them along Blowbladder-street, and Middle-row, as Newgate-street
was then termed, the apprentice shouted to the coachman to stop, but no
attention being paid to his vociferations, and finding pursuit
unavailing, he came to a halt. He then more slowly retraced his steps,
and on arriving at the grocer's residence, found the basket drawn up.
Almost afraid to call out, he at length mustered courage enough to shout
to Blaize to lower it, and was answered by Mr. Bloundel, who, putting
his head through the window, demanded in a stern tone why he had left
the house?

Leonard briefly explained.

"I deeply regret your imprudence," replied his master; "because I can
now no more admit you. It is my fixed determination, as you well know,
not to suffer any member of my family who may quit my house, to enter it
again."

"I shall not attempt to remonstrate with you, sir," replied Leonard.
"All I pray of you is to allow me to occupy this hutch, and to act as
your porter."

"Willingly," rejoined Mr. Bloundel; "and as you have had the plague, you
will run no risk of infection. You shall know all that passes within
doors; and I only lament that you should have banished yourself from the
asylum which I hoped to afford you."

After some further conversation between them, a bundle was lowered by
the grocer, containing a change of clothes and a couple of blankets. On
receiving these, Leonard retired to the hutch, and tying a handkerchief
round his wounded arm, wrapped himself in a night trail, and stretching
himself on the ground, in spite of his anxiety, soon sank asleep. He
awoke about four o'clock in the morning, with a painful consciousness of
what had taken place during the night. It was just beginning to grow
light, and he walked across the street to gaze at the house from which
he was exiled. Its melancholy, uninhabited look did not serve to cheer
him. It seemed totally altered since he knew it first. The sign, which
then invited the passers-by to enter the shop and deal with its honest
owner, now appeared no longer significant, unless--and it will be
remembered it was the Noah's Ark--it could be supposed to have reference
to those shut up within. The apprentice looked at the habitation with
misgiving, and, instead of regarding it as a sanctuary from the
pestilence, could not help picturing it as a living tomb. The last
conversation he had had with Amabel also arose forcibly to his
recoll