amous apothecary, from
Clerkenwell, named Sibbald, who was celebrated for the cures he had
effected, had just entered a neighbouring house, and offered to await
his coming forth, and send him to her. Thanking him, Mrs. Batley
returned to the house, and presently afterwards, Sibbald made his
appearance. His looks and person had become even more repulsive than
formerly. He desired to be led to the patient, and on seeing her, shook
his head. He examined the pustule, which had greatly increased in size,
and turning away, muttered, "I can do nothing for her."

"At least make the attempt," implored Mrs. Batley. "She is the Countess
of Rochester. You shall be well rewarded--and if you cure her, the earl
will make your fortune."

"If his lordship would change stations with me, I could not cure her,"
replied Sibbald. "Let me look at her again," he added, examining the
pustule. "There is a strange appearance about this tumour. Has Judith
Malmayns attended her?"

"She was here yesterday," replied Mrs. Batley.

"I thought so," he muttered. "I repeat it is all over with her." And he
turned to depart.

"Do not leave her thus, in pity do not!" cried the old woman, detaining
him. "Make some effort to save her. My lord loves her to distraction,
and will abundantly reward you."

"All I can do is to give her something to allay the pain," returned
Sibbald. And drawing a small phial from his doublet, he poured its
contents into a glass, and administered it to the patient.

"That will throw her into a slumber," he said, "and when she wakes, she
will be without pain. But her end will be not far off."

Mrs. Batley took a purse from a drawer in one of the cabinets, and gave
it to the apothecary, who bowed and retired. As he had foretold, Amabel
fell into a heavy lethargy, which continued during the whole of the
night. Mrs. Batley, who had never left her, noticed that an
extraordinary and fearful change had taken place in her countenance, and
she could not doubt that the apothecary's prediction would be realized.
The tumour had increased in size, and was surrounded by a dusky brown
circle, which she knew to be a bad sign. The sufferer's eyes, when she
opened them, and gazed around, had a dim and glazed look. But she was
perfectly calm and composed, and, as had been prognosticated, free from
pain. She had, also, fully regained her faculties, and seemed quite
aware of her dangerous situation.

But the return of reason brought with it no