ked that the
figure had disappeared, and while wondering who it could be, he
perceived a person emerge from one of the tall windows in the lower part
of the tower. It was Solomon Eagle, and he no longer wondered at what he
had seen. The enthusiast was without his brazier, but carried a long
stout staff. He ran along the pointed roof of the nave with
inconceivable swiftness, till, reaching the vast stone cross, upwards of
twelve feet in height, ornamenting the western extremity, he climbed its
base, and clasping the transverse bar of the sacred symbol of his faith
with his left arm, extended his staff with his right, and described a
circle, as if pointing out the walls of the city. He then raised his
staff towards heaven to invoke its vengeance, and anon pointed it
menacingly downwards. After this he broke into loud denunciations; but
though the apprentice could not hear the words, he gathered their
purport from his gestures.

By this time a few masons had assembled, and producing their implements,
commenced working at the blocks of stone. Glancing at the enthusiast,
one of them observed with a smile to his companion, "There is Solomon
Eagle pronouncing his morning curse upon the city. I wonder whether the
judgments he utters against it will come to pass."

"Assuredly, Phil Gatford," replied the other mason, gravely; "and I look
upon all the work we are now doing as labour thrown away. Was he not
right about the plague? Did he not foretell the devouring scourge by
which we are visited? And he will be right also about the fire. Since he
has doomed it, this cathedral will be consumed by flames, and one stone
will not be left standing on another."

"It is strange, Ned Turgis," observed Gatford, "that, though Solomon
Eagle may always be seen at daybreak at the top of the tower or on the
roof of the cathedral--sometimes at one point and sometimes at
another--no one can tell where he hides himself at other times. He no
longer roams the streets at night, but you may remember when the
officers of justice were in search of him, to give evidence against
Mother Malmayns and Chowles, he was not to be found."

"I remember it," replied Turgis; "but I have no doubt he was hidden in
some out-of-the-way corner of the cathedral--perhaps among the immense
wooden beams of the clerestory."

"Or in some of the secret passages or cells contrived in the thickness
of the walls," rejoined the first speaker. "I say, Ned Turgis, if the
plague