much emotion, and with a look that seemed to bespeak contrition.
"I heard that you had opened your house yesterday, and was about to call
upon you. I have a few words to say to you on a subject painful to both
of us, but doubly painful to me--your daughter."

"I must decline to hear them, my lord," replied the grocer, coldly; "nor
shall you ever cross my threshold again with my consent. My poor child
is now at peace. You can do her no further injury, and must settle your
own account with your Maker."

"Do not refuse me your forgiveness," implored the earl. "I will make
every reparation in my power."

"You _can_ make none," replied the grocer, repelling him; "and as to my
forgiveness, I neither refuse it nor accord it. I pray your lordship to
let me pass. The sole favour I ask of you is to come near me no more."

"I obey you," replied the earl. "Stay," he added to Leonard, who stood
by, regarding him with a look of deadly animosity. "I would give you a
piece of caution. Your life is in danger."

"I can easily guess from whom," replied the apprentice, scornfully.

"You mistake," rejoined Rochester; "you have nothing to apprehend from
me. You have promised to meet some one to-night," he added, in so low a
tone as to be inaudible to the grocer. "Do not go."

"Your lordship's warning will not deter me," rejoined the apprentice.

"As you will," rejoined Rochester, turning away. And springing upon his
horse, and striking his spurs into his side, he dashed off, while
Leonard and the grocer took the opposite direction. In less than half an
hour they reached the little village of Paddington, then consisting of a
few houses, but now one of the most populous and important parishes of
the metropolis, and speedily gained the open country. Even at this
dreary season the country had charms, which Mr. Bloundel, after his long
confinement, could fully appreciate. His eye roamed over the wide
prospect; and the leafless trees, the bare hedges, and the frost-bound
fields seemed pleasant in his sight.

He quickened his pace, and being wholly indifferent to the cold, greatly
enjoyed the exercise. Leonard pointed out to him the spots where the
fugitives from the plague had pitched their tents, and also the
pest-house near Westbourne Green, where he himself had been received
during his second attack of the distemper, and which was now altogether
abandoned.

Soon after this, they mounted the hill beyond Kensal Green, and
approached t