"Not even me, Nizza?" asked Leonard, advancing. The poor girl started at the sound of his voice, and raising herself on one arm, looked wildly towards him. As soon as she was satisfied that her fancy did not deceive her, she uttered a cry of delight, and falling backwards on the couch, became insensible.

Leonard and the old woman instantly flew to the poor girl's a.s.sistance, and restoratives being applied, she speedily opened her eyes and fixed them tenderly and inquiringly on the apprentice. Before replying to her mute interrogatories, Leonard requested the old woman to leave them-an order very reluctantly obeyed-and as soon as they were left alone, proceeded to explain, as briefly as he could, the manner in which he had discovered her place of captivity. Nizza listened to his recital with the greatest interest, and though evidently suffering acute pain, uttered no complaint, but endeavoured to a.s.sume an appearance of composure and tranquillity.

"I must now tell you all that has befallen me since we last met," she said, as he concluded. "I will not dwell upon the persecution I endured from the king, whose pa.s.sion increased in proportion to my resistance-I will not dwell upon the arts, the infamous arts, used to induce me to comply with his wishes-neither will I dwell upon the desperate measure I had determined to resort to, if driven to the last strait-nor would I mention the subject at all, except to a.s.sure you I escaped contamination where few escaped it."

"You need not give me any such a.s.surance," remarked Leonard.

"While I was thus almost driven to despair," pursued Nizza, "a young female who attended me, and affected to deplore my situation, offered to help me to escape. I eagerly embraced the offer; and one night, having purloined, as she stated, the key of the chamber in which I was lodged, she conducted me by a back staircase into the palace-gardens. Thinking myself free, I warmly thanked my supposed deliverer, who hurried me towards a gate, at which she informed me a man was waiting to guide me to a cottage about a mile from the city, where I should be in perfect safety."

"I see the device," cried Leonard. "But, why-why did you trust her?"

"What could I do?" rejoined Nizza. "To stay was as bad as to fly, and might have been worse. At all events, I had no distrust. My companion opened the gate, and called to some person without. It was profoundly dark; but I could perceive a carriage, or some other vehicle, at a little distance. Alarmed at the sight, I whispered my fears to my companion, and would have retreated; but she laid hold of my hand, and detained me. The next moment I felt a rude grasp upon my arm. Before I could cry out, a hand was placed over my mouth so closely as almost to stifle me; and I was forced into the carriage by two persons, who seated themselves on either side of me, threatening to put me to death if I made the slightest noise. The carriage was then driven off at a furious pace. For some miles it pursued the high road, and then struck into a lane, where, in consequence of the deep and dangerous ruts, the driver was obliged to relax his speed. But in spite of all his caution, one of the wheels sunk into a hole, and in the efforts to extricate it, the carriage was overturned. No injury was sustained either by me or the others inside, and the door being forced open without much difficulty, we were let out. One of my captors kept near me, while the other lent his a.s.sistance to the coachman to set the carriage to rights. It proved, however, to be so much damaged, that it could not proceed; and, after considerable delay, my conductors ordered the coachman to remain with it till further a.s.sistance could be sent; and, taking the horses, one of them, notwithstanding my resistance, placed me beside him, and galloped off. Having ridden about five miles, we crossed an extensive common, and pa.s.sed an avenue of trees, which brought us to the entrance of an old house. Our arrival seemed to be expected; for the instant we appeared, the gate was opened, and the old woman you have just seen, and who is called Mrs. Carteret, together with a dumb African, named Ha.s.san, appeared at it. Some muttered discourse pa.s.sed between my conductors and these persons, which ended in my being committed to the care of Mrs. Carteret who led me upstairs to a richly-furnished chamber, and urged me to take some refreshment before I retired to rest, which, however, I declined."

"Still, you saw nothing of Sir Paul Parravicin?" asked Leonard.

"On going downstairs next morning, he was the first person I beheld," replied Nizza. "Falling upon his knees, he implored my pardon for the artifice he had practised, and said he had been compelled to have recourse to it in order to save me from the king. He then began to plead his own suit; but finding his protestations of pa.s.sion of no effect, he became yet more importunate; when, at this juncture, one of the men who had acted as my conductor on the previous night suddenly entered the room, and told him he must return to Oxford without an instant's delay, as the king's attendants were in search of him. Casting a look at me that made me tremble, he then departed; and though I remained more than two months in that house, I saw nothing more of him."

"Did you not attempt to escape during that time?" asked Leonard.

"I was so carefully watched by Mrs. Carteret and Ha.s.san, that it would have been vain to attempt it," she replied. "About a week ago, the two men who had conducted me to my place of captivity, again made their appearance, and told me I must accompany them to London. I attempted no resistance, well aware it would be useless; and as the journey was made by by-roads, three days elapsed before we reached the capital. We arrived at night, and I almost forgot my own alarm in the terrible sights I beheld at every turn. It would have been useless to call out for a.s.sistance, for there was no one to afford it. I asked my conductors if they had brought me there to die, and they answered, sternly, 'It depended on myself.' At Ludgate we met Chowles, the coffin-maker, and he brought us to this house. Yesterday, Sir Paul Parravicin made his appearance, and told me he had brought me hither to be out of the king's way. He then renewed his odious solicitations. I resisted him as firmly as before; but he was more determined; and I might have been reduced to the last extremity but for your arrival, or for the terrible disorder that has seized me. But I have spoken enough of myself. Tell me what has become of Amabel?"

"She, too, has got the plague," replied Leonard, mournfully.

"Alas! alas!" cried Nizza, bursting into tears; "she is so dear to you, that I grieve for her far more than for myself."

"I have not seen her since I last beheld you," said Leonard, greatly touched by the poor girl's devotion. "She was carried off by the Earl of Rochester on the same night that you were taken from Kingston Lisle by the king."

"And she has been in his power ever since?" demanded Nizza, eagerly.

"Ever since," repeated Leonard.

"The same power that has watched over me, I trust has protected her," cried Nizza, fervently.

"I cannot doubt it," replied Leonard. "She would now not be alive were it otherwise. But I have now something of importance to disclose to you. You remember the stranger we met near the plague-pit in Finsbury Fields, and whose child I buried?"

"Perfectly," replied Nizza.

"What if I tell you he is your father?" said Leonard.

"What!" cried Nizza, in the utmost surprise. "Have I, then, been mistaken all these years in supposing the piper to be my father?"

"You have," replied Leonard. "I cannot explain more to you at present; but a few hours will reveal all. Thirlby is the name of your father. Have you ever heard it before?"

"Never," returned Nizza. "It is strange what you tell me. I have often reproached myself for not feeling a stronger affection for the piper, who always treated me with the kindness of a parent. But it now seems the true instinct was wanting. Tell me your reasons for supposing this person to be my father."

As Leonard was about to reply, the door was opened by Mrs. Carteret, who said that Sir Paul Parravicin had just returned with Doctor Hodges and another gentleman. The words were scarcely uttered, when Thirlby rushed into the room, and, flinging himself on his knees before the couch, cried, "At last I have found you-my child! my child!" The surprise which Nizza must have experienced at such an address was materially lessened by what Leonard had just told her; and, after earnestly regarding the stranger for some time, she exclaimed, in a gentle voice, "My father!"

Thirlby sprang to his feet, and would have folded her in his arms, if Doctor Hodges, who by this time had reached the couch, had not prevented him. "Touch her not, or you destroy yourself," he cried.

"I care not if I do," rejoined Thirlby. "The gratification would be cheaply purchased at the price of my life; and if I could preserve hers by the sacrifice, I would gladly make it."

"No more of this," cried Hodges, impatiently, "or you will defeat any attempt I may make to cure her. You had better not remain here. Your presence agitates her."

Gazing wistfully at his daughter, and scarcely able to tear himself away, Thirlby yielded at last to the doctor's advice, and quitted the room. He was followed by Leonard, who received a hint to the same effect. On reaching the adjoining room, they found Sir Paul Parravicin walking to and fro in an agitated manner. He immediately came up to Thirlby, and, in an anxious but deferential tone, inquired how he had found Nizza? The latter shook his head, and, sternly declining any further conversation, pa.s.sed on with the apprentice to an outer room. He then flung himself into a chair, and appeared lost in deep and bitter reflection. Leonard was unwilling to disturb him; but at last his own anxieties compelled him to break silence.

"Can you tell me aught of Amabel?" he asked.

"Alas! no," replied Thirlby, rousing himself. "I have had no time to inquire about her, as you shall hear. After leaving you on the bridge, I went into Southwark, and hurrying through all the princ.i.p.al streets, inquired from every watchman I met whether he had seen any person answering to Doctor Hodges's description, but could hear nothing of him. At last I gave up the quest, and, retracing my steps, was proceeding along Cannon-street, when I descried a person a little in advance of me, whom I thought must be the doctor, and, calling out to him, found I was not mistaken. I had just reached him, when two other persons turned the corner of Nicholas-lane. On seeing us, one of them ran up to the doctor, exclaiming, 'By Heaven, the very person I want!' It was Sir Paul Parravicin; and he instantly explained his errand. Imagine the feelings with which I heard his account of the illness of my daughter. Imagine, also, the horror I must have experienced in recognising in her persecutor my-"

The sentence was not completed, for at that moment the door was opened by Sir Paul Parravicin, who, advancing towards Thirlby, begged, in the same deferential tone as before, to have a few words with him.

"I might well refuse you," replied Thirlby, sternly, "but it is necessary we should have some explanation of what has occurred."

"It is," rejoined Parravicin, "and, therefore, I have sought you." Thirlby arose, and accompanied the knight into the outer room, closing the door after him. More than a quarter of an hour-it seemed an age to Leonard-elapsed, and still no one came. Listening intently, he heard voices in the next room. They were loud and angry, as if in quarrel. Then all was quiet, and at last Thirlby reappeared, and took his seat beside him.

"Have you seen Doctor Hodges?" inquired the apprentice, eagerly.

"I have," replied Thirlby-"and he speaks favourably of my poor child. He has administered all needful remedies, but as it is necessary to watch their effect, he will remain with her some time longer."

"And, meanwhile, I shall know nothing of Amabel," cried Leonard, in a tone of bitter disappointment.

"Your anxiety is natural," returned Thirlby, "but you may rest satisfied, if Doctor Hodges has seen her, he has done all that human aid can effect. But as you must perforce wait his coming forth, I will endeavour to beguile the tedious interval by relating to you so much of my history as refers to Nizza Macascree."

After a brief pause, he commenced. "You must know, then, that in my youth I became desperately enamoured of a lady named Isabella Morley. She was most beautiful-but I need not enlarge upon her attractions, since you have beheld her very image in Nizza. When I first met her she was attached to another, but I soon rid myself of my rival. I quarrelled with him, and slew him in a duel. After a long and urgent suit, for the successful issue of which I was mainly indebted to my rank and wealth, which gave great influence with her parents, Isabella became mine. But I soon found out she did not love me. In consequence of this discovery, I became madly jealous, and embittered her life and my own by constant, and, now I know too well, groundless suspicions. She had borne me a son, and in the excess of my jealous fury, fancying the child was not my own, I threatened to put it to death. This violence led to the unhappy result I am about to relate. Another child was born, a daughter-need I say Nizza, or to give her her proper name, Isabella, for she was so christened after her mother-and one night-one luckless night,-maddened by some causeless doubt, I s.n.a.t.c.hed the innocent babe from her mother's arms, and if I had not been prevented by the attendants, who rushed into the room on hearing their mistress's shrieks, should have destroyed her. After awhile, I became pacified, and on reviewing my conduct more calmly on the morrow, bitterly reproached myself, and hastened to express my penitence to my wife. 'You will never have an opportunity of repeating your violence,' she said; 'the object of your cruel and unfounded suspicions is gone.'-'Gone!' I exclaimed; 'whither?' And as I spoke I looked around the chamber. But the babe was nowhere to be seen. In answer to my inquiries, my wife admitted that she had caused her to be removed to a place of safety, but refused, even on my most urgent entreaties, accompanied by promises of amended conduct, to tell me where. I next interrogated the servants, but they professed entire ignorance of the matter. For three whole days I made ineffectual search for the child, and offered large rewards to any one who would bring her to me. But they failed to produce her; and repairing to my wife's chamber, I threatened her with the most terrible consequences if she persisted in her vindictive project. She defied me, and, transported with rage, I pa.s.sed my sword through her body, exclaiming as I dealt the murderous blow, 'You have sent the brat to her father-to your lover, madam.' Horror and remorse seized me the moment I had committed the ruthless act, and I should have turned my sword against myself, if I had not been stayed by the cry of my poor victim, who implored me to hold my hand. 'Do not add crime to crime,' she cried; 'you have done me grievous wrong. I have not, indeed, loved you, because my affections were not under my control, but I have been ever true to you, and this I declare with my latest breath. I freely forgive you, and pray G.o.d to turn your heart.' And with these words she expired. I was roused from the stupefaction into which I was thrown by the appearance of the servants. Heaping execrations upon me, they strove to seize me; but I broke through them, and gained a garden at the back of my mansion, which was situated on the bank of the Thames, not far from Chelsea. This garden ran down to the river side, and was defended by a low wall, which I leapt, and plunged into the stream. A boat was instantly sent in pursuit of me, and a number of persons ran along the banks, all eager for my capture. But being an excellent swimmer, I tried to elude them, and as I never appeared again, it was supposed I was drowned."

"And Nizza, or as I ought now to call her, Isabella, was confided, I suppose, to the piper?" inquired Leonard.

"She was confided to his helpmate," replied Thirlby, "who had been nurse to my wife. Mike Macascree was one of my father's servants, and was in his younger days a merry, worthless fellow. The heavy calamity under which he now labours had not then befallen him. On taking charge of my daughter, his wife received certain papers substantiating the child's origin, together with a miniature, and a small golden amulet. The papers and miniature were delivered by her on her death-bed to the piper, who showed them to me to-night."

"And the amulet I myself have seen," remarked Leonard.

"To resume my own history," said Thirlby-"after the dreadful catastrophe I have related, I remained concealed in London for some months, and was glad to find the report of my death generally believed. I then pa.s.sed over into Holland, where I resided for several years, in the course of which time I married the widow of a rich merchant, who died soon after our union, leaving me one child." And he covered his face with his hands to hide his emotion. After awhile he proceeded:

"Having pa.s.sed many years, as peacefully as one whose conscience was so heavily burdened as mine could hope to pa.s.s them, in Amsterdam, I last summer brought my daughter, around whom my affections were closely twined, to London, and took up my abode in the eastern environs of the city. There again I was happy-too happy!-until at last the plague came. But why should I relate the rest of my sad story?" he added, in a voice suffocated with emotion-"you know it as well as I do."

"You said you had a son," observed Leonard, after a pause-"Is he yet living?"

"He is," replied Thirlby, a shade pa.s.sing over his countenance. "On my return to England I communicated to him through Judith Malmayns, who is my foster-sister, that I was still alive, telling him the name I had adopted, and adding, I should never disturb him in the possession of his t.i.tle and estates."

"t.i.tle!" exclaimed Leonard.

"Ay, t.i.tle!" echoed Thirlby. "The t.i.tle I once bore was that of Lord Argentine."

"I am glad to hear it," said Leonard, "for I began to fear Sir Paul Parravicin was your son."

"Sir Paul Parravicin, or, rather, the Lord Argentine, for such is his rightful t.i.tle, is my son," returned Thirlby; "and I lament to own I am his father. When among his worthless a.s.sociates,-nay, even with the king-he drops the higher t.i.tle, and a.s.sumes that by which you have known him; and it is well he does so, for his actions are sufficient to tarnish a far n.o.bler name than that he bears. Owing to this disguise I knew not he was the person who carried off my daughter. But, thank Heaven, another and fouler crime has been spared us. All these things have been strangely explained to me to-night. And thus, you see, young man, the poor piper's daughter turns out to be the Lady Isabella Argentine." Before an answer could be returned, the door was opened by Hodges, and both starting to their feet, hurried towards him.

IV.

THE TRIALS OF AMABEL.