"If I could trust you," said Leonard, you might be of the greatest service in convincing the earl that his efforts are fruitless."

"You may trust me," she rejoined.

"Well, then," returned Leonard, "when the family have retired to rest, come downstairs, and I will tell you what to do."

Hastily promising compliance, Amabel disappeared; and Leonard ran down the stairs, at the foot of which he encountered Mrs. Bloundel.

"What is the matter?" she asked.

"Nothing-nothing," replied the apprentice, evasively.

"That-will not serve my turn," she rejoined. "Something, I am certain, troubles you, though you do not choose to confess it. Heaven grant your anxiety is not occasioned by aught relating to that wicked Earl of Rochester! I cannot sleep in my bed for thinking of him. I noticed that you followed Amabel out of the room. I hope you do not suspect anything."

"Do not question me further, madam, I entreat," returned the apprentice. "Whatever I may suspect, I have taken all needful precautions. Rest easy, and sleep soundly, if you can. All will go well."

"I shall never rest easy, Leonard," rejoined Mrs. Bloundel, "till you are wedded to my daughter. Then, indeed, I shall feel happy. My poor child, I am sure, is fully aware how indiscreet her conduct has been; and when this n.o.ble libertine desists from annoying her-or rather, when he is effectually shut out-we may hope for a return of her regard for you."

"It is a vain hope, madam," replied Leonard; "there will be no such return. I neither expect it nor desire it."

"Have you ceased to love her?" asked Mrs. Bloundel, in surprise.

"Ceased to love her!" echoed Leonard, fiercely. "Would I had done so!-would I could do so! I love her too well-too well."

And repeating the words to himself with great bitterness, he hurried away.

"His pa.s.sion has disturbed his brain," sighed Mrs. Bloundel, as she proceeded to her chamber. "I must try to reason him into calmness to-morrow."

Half an hour after this, the grocer retired for the night; and Leonard, who had gone to his own room, cautiously opened the door, and repaired to the shop. On the way he met Amabel. She looked pale as death, and trembled so violently, that she could scarcely support herself.

"I hope you do not mean to use any violence towards the earl, Leonard?" she said in a supplicating voice.

"He will never repeat his visit," rejoined the apprentice, gloomily.

"Your looks terrify me," cried Amabel, gazing with great uneasiness at his stern and determined countenance. "I will remain by you. He will depart at my bidding."

"Did he depart at your bidding before?" demanded Leonard, sarcastically.

"He did not, I grant," she replied, more supplicatingly than before. "But do not harm him-for mercy's sake, do not-take my life sooner. I alone have offended you."

The apprentice made no reply, but, unlocking a box, took out a brace of large horse-pistols and a sword, and thrust them into his girdle.

"You do not mean to use those murderous weapons?" cried Amabel.

"It depends on circ.u.mstances," replied Leonard. "Force must be met by force."

"Nay, then," she rejoined, "the affair a.s.sumes too serious an aspect to be trifled with. I will instantly alarm my father."

"Do so," retorted Leonard, "and he will cast you off for ever."

"Better that, than be the cause of bloodshed," she returned. "But is there nothing I can do to prevent this fatal result?"

"Yes," replied Leonard. "Make your lover understand he is unwelcome to you. Dismiss him for ever. On that condition, he shall depart unharmed and freely."

"I will do so," she rejoined.

Nothing more was then said. Amabel seated herself and kept her eyes fixed on Leonard, who, avoiding her regards, stationed himself near the door.

By-and-by a slight tap was heard without, and the apprentice cautiously admitted Gregory Swindlehurst and his comrade. The latter was habited like the other watchman, in a blue night-rail, and was armed with a halberd. He appeared much stouter, much older, and, so far as could be discovered of his features-for a large handkerchief m.u.f.fled his face-much uglier (if that were possible) than his companion. He answered to the name of Bernard Boutefeu. They had no sooner entered the shop, than Leonard locked the door.

"Who are these persons?" asked Amabel, rising in great alarm.

"Two watchmen whom I have hired to guard the house," replied Leonard.

"We are come to protect you, fair mistress," said Gregory, "and, if need be, to cut the Earl of Rochester's throat."

"Oh heavens!" exclaimed Amabel.

"Ghost of Tarquin!" cried Boutefeu, "we'll teach him to break into the houses of quiet citizens, and attempt to carry off their daughters against their will. By the soul of d.i.c.k Whittington, Lord Mayor of London! we'll maul and mangle him."

"Silence! Bernard Boutefeu," interposed Gregory. "You frighten Mistress Amabel by your strange oaths."

"I should be sorry to do that," replied Boutefeu-"I only wish to show my zeal for her. Don't be afraid of the Earl of Rochester, fair mistress. With all his audacity, he won't dare to enter the house when he finds we are there."

"Is it your pleasure that we should thrust a halberd through his body, or lodge a bullet in his brain?" asked Gregory, appealing to Amabel.

"Touch him not, I beseech you," she rejoined. "Leonard, I have your promise that, if I can prevail upon him to depart, you will not molest him."

"You have," he replied.

"You hear that," she observed to the watchmen.

"We are all obedience," said Gregory.

"Bless your tender heart!" cried Boutefeu, "we would not pain you for the world."

"A truce to this," said Leonard. "Come to the yard, we will wait for him there."

"I will go with you," cried Amabel. "If any harm should befall him, I should never forgive myself."

"Remember what I told you," rejoined Leonard, sternly; "it depends upon yourself whether he leaves the house alive."

"Heed him not," whispered Gregory. "I and my comrade will obey no one but you."

Amabel could not repress an exclamation of surprise.

"What are you muttering, sirrah?" demanded Leonard, angrily.

"Only that the young lady may depend on our fidelity," replied Gregory.

"There can be no offence in that. Come with us," he whispered to Amabel.

The latter part of his speech escaped Leonard, but the tone in which it was uttered was so significant, that Amabel, who began to entertain new suspicions, hesitated.