with a look of deep disappointment. "The
resemblance is wonderful! And yet it cannot be. My brain is bewildered."

"Whom does she resemble?" asked Leonard, eagerly.

"One very dear to me," replied the sick man, with an expression of
remorse and anguish, "one I would not think of now." And he buried his
face in the grass.

"Is there aught more I can do for you?" inquired Leonard, after a pause.

"No," replied the sick man; "I have done with the world. With that
child, the last tie that bound me to it was snapped. I now only wish to
die."

"Do not give way thus," replied Leonard; "a short time ago my condition
was as apparently hopeless as your own, and you see I am now perfectly
recovered."

"You had something to live for--something to love," groaned the sick
man. "All I lived for, all I loved, are gone."

"Be comforted, sir," said Nizza, in a commiserating tone. "Much
happiness may yet be in store for you."

"That voice!" exclaimed the sick man, with a look denoting the approach
of delirium. "It must be my Isabella. Oh! forgive me! sweet injured
saint; forgive me!"

"Your presence evidently distresses him," said Leonard. "Let us hasten
for assistance. Your name, sir?" he added, to the sick man.

"Why should you seek to know it?" replied the other. "No tombstone will
be placed over the plague-pit."

"Not a moment must be lost if you would save him," cried Nizza.

"You are right," replied Leonard. "Let us fly to the nearest
apothecary's."

Accordingly, they set off at a quick pace towards Moorgate. Just as they
reached it, they heard the bell ring, and saw the dead-cart approaching.
Shrinking back while it passed, they ran on till they came to an
apothecary's shop, where Leonard, describing the state of the sick man,
by his entreaties induced the master of the establishment and one of his
assistants to accompany him. Leaving Nizza in the shop, he then retraced
his steps with his companions. The sick man was lying where he had left
him, but perfectly insensible. On searching his pockets, a purse of
money was found, but neither letter nor tablet to tell who he was.
Leonard offered the purse to the apothecary, but the latter declined it,
and desired his assistant, who had brought a barrow with him, to place
the sick man within it, and convey him to the pest-house.

"He will be better cared for there than if I were to take charge of
him," he observed. "As to the money, you can return it if he recovers.
If n