"He is able to walk thither now, but I will not answer for his being able to do so two hours hence.

It is a bad case," he added in an under-tone to Leonard.
Feeing the apothecary, Leonard set out with the piper, and passing through Cripplegate, they entered the open fields.

Here they paused for a moment, and the little dog ran round and round them, barking gleefully.
"Poor Bell!" cried the piper; "what will become of thee when I am gone ?" "If you will entrust her to me, I will take care of her," replied Leonard.
"She is yours," rejoined the piper, in a voice hoarse with emotion.

"Be kind to her for my sake, and for the sake of her unfortunate mistress." "Since you have alluded to your daughter," returned Leonard, "I must tell you what has become of her.

I have not hitherto mentioned the subject, fearing it might distress you." "Have no further consideration, but speak out," rejoined the piper.