happened, and begged him to
return.

"There will be no use in helping him out," rejoined Chowles, in a tone
of indifference. "We shall have to take him back in a couple of hours.
No, no--let him remain where he is. There is scarcely a night that some
crazy being does not destroy himself in the same way. We never concern
ourselves about such persons except to strip them of their apparel."

"Unfeeling wretch!" cried Leonard, unable to restrain his indignation.
"Give me your fork, and I will pull him out myself."

Instead of surrendering the implement, Chowles flourished it over his
head with the intention of striking the apprentice, but the latter
nimbly avoided the blow, and snatching it from his grasp, ran back to
the plague-pit. He was followed by Chowles and the burier, who
threatened him with loud oaths. Regardless of their menaces, Leonard
fixed the hook in the dress of the struggling man, and exerting all his
strength, drew him out of the abyss. He had just lodged him in safety on
the brink when Chowles and his companion came up.

"Keep off!" cried Leonard, brandishing his fork as he spoke; "you shall
neither commit robbery nor murder here. If you will assist this
unfortunate gentleman, I have no doubt you will be well rewarded. If
not, get hence, or advance at your peril."

"Well," returned Chowles, who began to fancy something might be made of
the matter, "if you think we should be rewarded, we would convey the
gentleman back to his own home provided we can ascertain where it is.
But I am afraid he may die on the way."

"In that case you can apply to his friends," rejoined Leonard. "He must
not be abandoned thus."

"First, let us know who he is," returned Chowles. "Is he able to speak?"

"I know not," answered Leonard. "Bring the lantern this way, and let us
examine his countenance."

Chowles complied, and held the light over the unfortunate person. His
attire was rich, but in great disorder, and sullied by the loathsome
mass in which he had been plunged. He was in the flower of youth, and
his features must have been remarkable for their grace and beauty, but
they were now of a livid hue, and swollen and distorted by pain. Still
Leonard recognised them.

"Gracious Heaven!" he exclaimed. "It is Sir Paul Parravicin."

"Sir Paul Parravicin!" echoed Chowles. "By all that's wonderful, so it
is! Here is a lucky chance! Bring the dead-cart hither, Jonas--quick,
quick! I shall put him under the care of Judi