



Produced by Suzanne Shell, Mary Meehan and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) AURIOL

                              OR

                      THE ELIXIR OF LIFE

                   BY W. HARRISON AINSWORTH

                AUTHOR OF "THE TOWER OF LONDON"


    WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY H. K. BROWNE

    _AUTHOR'S COPYRIGHT EDITION_

    LONDON
    GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS, LIMITED
    BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL

    1898

    Printed by BALLANTYNE, HANSON & CO.
    At the Ballantyne Press




[Illustration: The mysterious interview in Hyde Park]


CONTENTS


PROLOGUE--1599--

DR. LAMB


BOOK THE FIRST--EBBA--

I. THE RUINED HOUSE IN THE VAUXHALL ROAD

II. THE DOG-FANCIER

III. THE HAND AND THE CLOAK

IV. THE IRON-MERCHANT'S DAUGHTER

V. THE MEETING NEAR THE STATUE

VI. THE CHARLES THE SECOND SPANIEL

VII. THE HAND AGAIN! VIII. THE BARBER OF LONDON

IX. THE MOON IN THE FIRST QUARTER

X. THE STATUE AT CHARING CROSS

XI. PREPARATIONS

XII. THE CHAMBER OF MYSTERY


INTERMEAN--1800--

I. THE TOMB OF THE ROSICRUCIAN

II. THE COMPACT

III. IRRESOLUTION

IV. EDITH TALBOT

V. THE SEVENTH NIGHT


BOOK THE SECOND--CYPRIAN ROUGEMONT--

I. THE CELL

II. THE ENCHANTED CHAIRS

III. GERARD PASTON

IV. THE PIT

V. NEW PERPLEXITIES

VI. DR. LAMB AGAIN


THE OLD LONDON MERCHANT


A NIGHT'S ADVENTURE IN ROME--

I. SANTA MARIA MAGGIORE

II. THE MARCHESA




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS


THE MYSTERIOUS INTERVIEW IN HYDE PARK

THE ELIXIR OF LONG LIFE

THE RUINED HOUSE IN THE VAUXHALL ROAD

THE DOG-FANCIER

THE HAND AND THE CLOAK

THE IRON-MERCHANT'S DAUGHTER

THE BARBER OF LONDON

SEIZURE OF EBBA

THE ANTIQUARIES

THE CHAMBER OF MYSTERY

THE TOMB OF THE ROSICRUCIAN

THE COMPACT

THE SIGNIFICANT WHISPER

THE ENCHANTED CHAIRS

ROUGEMONT'S DEVICE TO PERPLEX AURIOL




PROLOGUE

1599

_DR. LAMB_


The Sixteenth Century drew to a close. It was the last day of the last
year, and two hours only were wanting to the birth of another year and
of another century. The night was solemn and beautiful. Myriads of stars paved the deep
vault of heaven; the crescent moon hung like a silver lamp in the midst
of them; a stream of rosy and quivering light, issuing from the north,
traversed the sky, like the tail of some stupendous comet; while from
its point of effluence broke forth, ever and anon, coruscations
rivalling in splendour and variety of hue the most brilliant discharge
of fireworks. A sharp frost prevailed; but the atmosphere was clear and dry, and
neither wind nor snow aggravated the wholesome rigour of the season. The
water lay in thick congealed masses around the conduits and wells, and
the buckets were frozen on their stands. The thoroughfares were sheeted
with ice, and dangerous to horsemen and vehicles; but the footways were
firm and pleasant to the tread. Here and there, a fire was lighted in the streets, round which ragged
urchins and mendicants were collected, roasting fragments of meat stuck
upon iron prongs, or quaffing deep draughts of metheglin and ale out of
leathern cups. Crowds were collected in the open places, watching the
wonders in the heavens, and drawing auguries from them, chiefly
sinister, for most of the beholders thought the signs portended the
speedy death of the queen, and the advent of a new monarch from the
north--a safe and easy interpretation, considering the advanced age and
declining health of the illustrious Elizabeth, together with the known
appointment of her successor, James of Scotland. Notwithstanding the early habits of the times, few persons had retired
to rest, an universal wish prevailing among the citizens to see the new
year in, and welcome the century accompanying it. Lights glimmered in
most windows, revealing the holly-sprigs and laurel-leaves stuck thickly
in their diamond panes; while, whenever a door was opened, a ruddy gleam
burst across the street, and a glance inside the dwelling showed its
inmates either gathered round the glowing hearth, occupied in mirthful
sports--fox-i'-th'-hole, blind-man's buff, or shoe-the-mare--or seated
at the ample board groaning with Christmas cheer. Music and singing were heard at every corner, and bands of comely
damsels, escorted by their sweethearts, went from house to house,
bearing huge brown bowls dressed with ribands and rosemary, and filled
with a drink called "lamb's-wool," composed of sturdy ale, sweetened
with sugar, spiced with nutmeg, and having toasts and burnt crabs
floating within it--a draught from which seldom brought its pretty
bearers less than a groat, and occasionally a more valuable coin. Such was the vigil of the year sixteen hundred. On this night, and at the tenth hour, a man of striking and venerable
appearance was seen to emerge upon a small wooden balcony, projecting
from a bay-window near the top of a picturesque structure situated at
the southern extremity of London Bridge. The old man's beard and hair were as white as snow--the former
descending almost to his girdle; so were the thick, overhanging brows
that shaded his still piercing eyes. His forehead was high, bald, and
ploughed by innumerable wrinkles. His countenance, despite its
death-like paleness, had a noble and majestic cast; and his figure,
though worn to the bone by a life of the severest study, and bent by the
weight of years, must have been once lofty and commanding. His dress
consisted of a doublet and hose of sad-coloured cloth, over which he
wore a loose gown of black silk. His head was covered by a square black
cap, from beneath which his silver locks strayed over his shoulders. Known by the name of Doctor Lamb, and addicted to alchemical and
philosophical pursuits, this venerable personage was esteemed by the
vulgar as little better than a wizard. Strange tales were reported and
believed of him. Amongst others, it was said that he possessed a
familiar, because he chanced to employ a deformed, crack-brained dwarf,
who assisted him in his operations, and whom he appropriately enough
denominated Flapdragon. Doctor Lamb's gaze was fixed intently upon the heavens, and he seamed
to be noting the position of the moon with reference to some particular
star. After remaining in this posture for a few minutes, he was about to
retire, when a loud crash arrested him, and he turned to see whence it
proceeded. Immediately before him stood the Southwark Gateway--a square stone
building, with a round, embattled turret at each corner, and a flat
leaden roof, planted with a forest of poles, fifteen or sixteen feet
high, garnished with human heads. To his surprise, the doctor perceived
that two of these poles had just been overthrown by a tall man, who was
in the act of stripping them of their grisly burdens.