exclaimed Blaize, "I already feel that dreadful
button burning into my flesh."

"On the contrary, you won't feel it at all," replied the attendant. "The
iron only touches the point of the tumour, in which there is no
sensibility."

"In that case, I don't care how soon the operation is performed,"
replied Blaize.

"Doctor Hodges will choose his own time for it," said the attendant. "In
the mean time, here is a cup of barley-broth for you. You will find it
do you good."

While the man applied the cup to the poor porter's lips--for he would
not unloose the straps, for fear of mischief--Leonard, who was sickened
by the terrible scene around him, took his departure, and quitted the
cathedral by the great western entrance. Seating himself on one of the
great blocks of stone left there by the workmen employed in repairing
the cathedral, but who had long since abandoned their task, he thought
over all that had recently occurred. Raising his eyes at length, he
looked toward the cathedral. The oblique rays of the sun had quitted the
columns of the portico, which looked cold and grey, while the roof and
towers were glittering in light. In ten minutes more, only the summit of
the central tower caught the last reflection of the declining orb.
Leonard watched the rosy gleam till it disappeared, and then steadfastly
regarded the reverend pile as its hue changed from grey to black, until
at length each pinnacle and buttress, each battlement and tower, was
lost in one vast indistinct mass. Night had fallen upon the city--a
night destined to be more fatal than any that had preceded it; and yet
it was so calm, so beautiful, so clear, that it was scarcely possible to
imagine that it was unhealthy. The destroying angel was, however,
fearfully at work. Hundreds were falling beneath his touch; and as
Leonard wondered how many miserable wretches were at that moment
released from suffering, it crossed him like an icy chill, that among
the number might be Amabel. So forcibly was he impressed by this idea,
that he fell on his knees and prayed aloud.

He was aroused by hearing the ringing of a bell, which announced the
approach of the dead-cart, and presently afterwards the gloomy vehicle
approached from Ludgate-hill, and moved slowly towards the portico of
the cathedral, where it halted. A great number of the dead were placed
within it, and the driver, ringing his bell, proceeded in the direction
of Cheapside. A very heavy dew had fallen; f