A scene of greater
confusion cannot be imagined. Leonard was in the midst of it, and,
careless of his own safety, toiled amid the tumbling fragments of the
houses to rescue some article of value for its unfortunate owner. While
he was thus employed, he observed a man leap out of a window of a partly
demolished house, disclosing in the action that he had a casket
concealed under his cloak.
A second glance showed him that this individual was Pillichody, and
satisfied that he had been plundering the house, he instantly seized
him. The bully struggled violently, but at last, dropping the casket,
made his escape, vowing to be revenged. Leonard laughed at his threats,
and the next moment had the satisfaction of restoring the casket to its
rightful owner, an old merchant, who issued from the house, and who,
after thanking him, told him it contained jewels of immense value.
Not half an hour after this, the flames poured upon Lombard-street from
the four avenues before mentioned, and the whole neighbourhood was on
fire. With inconceivable rapidity, they then ran up Birchin-lane, and
reaching Cornhill, spread to the right and left in that great
thoroughfare. The conflagration had now reached the highest point of the
city, and presented the grandest and most terrific aspect it had yet
assumed from the river. Thus viewed, it appeared, as Pepys describes it,
"as an entire arch of fire from the Three Cranes to the other side of
the bridge, and in a bow up the hill, for an arch of above a mile long:
_it made me weep to see it_.
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