第 40 页

ago, been a source of grievous trouble to them, as he was, indeed,

for a long time previously. Some natures seem naturally to turn to

evil, and this boy's was one of them. It may be that the life at home

was too rigid and severe, and that he revolted against it. Certain it

is that he took to evil courses and consorted with bad companions.

Severity was unavailing. He would break out of the house at night and

be away for days. He was drunken and dissolute.

"At last, just after a considerable sum of money had come into the

house from the tenants' rents, he stole it, and went up to London.

His name was not mentioned at home, though his father learnt from

correspondents here that he had become a hanger-on of the Court,

where, his father being a man of condition, he found friends without

difficulty. He was a gambler and a brawler, and bore a bad reputation

even among the riff-raff of the Court. His father learnt that he had

disappeared from sight at the time the Court went to Oxford early in

June, and his correspondent found that he was reported to have joined

a band of abandoned ruffians, whose least crimes were those of

robbery.

"When the Plague spread rapidly, Mr. Harvey and his wife determined

to come up to London, to make one more effort to draw him from his

evil courses. The only thing that they have been able to learn for

certain was, that he was one of the performers in that wicked mockery

the dance of death, but their efforts to trace him have otherwise

failed.

"They had intended, if they had found him, and he would have made

promises of amendment, to have given him money that would have

enabled him to go over to America and begin a new life there,

promising him a regular allowance to maintain him in comfort. As they

have many friends over there, some of whom went abroad to settle

before the Civil War broke out here, they would be able to have news

how he was going on; and if they found he was living a decent life,

and truly repented his past course, they would in five years have had

him back again, and reinstated him as their heir.

"I knew their intentions in the matter, and have done my best to gain

them news of him. I did not believe in the reformation of one who had

shown himself to be of such evil spirit; but God is all-powerful, and

might have led him out from the slough into which he had fallen.

"Yesterday evening, half an hour before you went there, his father

and mother were astonished at his suddenly entering. He saluted them

at first with ironical politeness, and said that having heard from

one from the same part of the country that he had seen them in

London, he had had the streets thereabouts watched, and having found

where they lodged, had come to pay his respects.

"There was a reckless bravado in his manner that alarmed his mother,

and it was not long before the purpose of his visit came out. He

demanded that his father should at once sign a deed which he had

brought drawn out in readiness, assigning to him at once half his

property.

"'You have,' he said, 'far more than you can require. Living as you

do, you must save three-quarters of your income, and it would be at

once an act of charity, and save you the trouble of dealing with

money that is of no use to you.'

"His father indignantly refused to take any such step, and then told

him the plans he had himself formed for him. At this he laughed

scoffingly.

"'You have the choice,' he said, 'of giving me half, or of my taking

everything.' And then he swore with terrible oaths that unless his

father signed the paper, that day should be his last. 'You are in my

power,' he said, 'and I am desperate. Do you think that if three dead

bodies are found in a house now any will trouble to inquire how they

came to their end? They will be tossed into the plague-cart, and none

will make inquiry about them.'

"Hearing voices raised in anger, the old servant ran in. At once the

villain drew and ran at him, passing his sword through his body.

Then, as if transported at the sight of the blood he had shed, he

turned upon his father. It was at this moment that his mother ran to

the window and called for help. He dragged her back, and as she fell

fainting with horror and fear he again turned upon his father; his

passion grew hotter and hotter as the latter, upbraiding him with the

deed he had done, refused to sign; and there is no doubt that he

would have taken his life had you not luckily ran in at this moment.

"It has truly been a terrible night for them. They have passed it in

prayer, and when I went this morning were both calm and composed,

though it was easy to see by their faces how they had suffered, and

how much the blow has told upon them. They have determined to save

their son from any further temptation to enrich himself by their

deaths. I fetched a lawyer for them; and when I left Mr. Harvey was

giving him instructions for drawing up his will, by which every

farthing is left away from him. They request me to go to them this

evening with two or three of our friends to witness it, as it is

necessary in a time like this that a will should be witnessed by as

many as possible, as some may be carried off by the Plague; and

should all the witnesses be dead, the will might be disputed as a

forgery. So the lawyer will bring his clerks with him, and I shall

take four or five of our friends.

"They will return to the country as soon as their servant can be

moved. Dr. Hodges came when I was there, and gives hopes that the

cure will be a speedy one. We are going to place some men in the

house. I have among my poorer friends two men who will be glad to

establish themselves there with their wives, seeing that they will

pay no rent, and will receive wages as long as Mr. Harvey remains

there. There will thus be no fear of any repetition of the attempt.

Mr. Harvey, on my advice, will also draw up and sign a paper giving a

full account of the occurrence of last evening, and will leave this

in the hands of the lawyer.

"This will be a protection to him should his son follow him into the

country, as he will then be able to assure him that if he proceeds to

violence suspicion will at once fall upon him, and he will be

arrested for his murder. But, indeed, the poor gentleman holds but

little to his life; and it was only on my representing to him that

this document might be the means of averting the commission of the

most terrible of all sins from the head of his son, that he agreed to

sign it. I gave him your message, and he prays me to say that, deeply

grateful as he and his wife are to you, not so much for the saving of

their lives, as for preventing their son's soul being stained by the

crime, they would indeed rather that you did not call for a time, for

they are so sorely shaken that they do not feel equal to seeing you.

You will not, I hope, take this amiss."

"By no means," Cyril replied; "it is but a natural feeling; and, in

truth, I myself am relieved that such is their decision, for it would

be well-nigh as painful to me as to them to see them again, and to

talk over the subject."

"By the way, Cyril, Mr. Harvey said that when you saw his son you

cried out his name, and that by the manner in which he turned upon

you it was clear that he had some cause for hating you. Is this so,

or was it merely his fancy?"

"It was no fancy, sir. It is not long since I thwarted his attempt to

carry off the daughter of a city merchant, to whom he had represented

himself as a nobleman. He was in the act of doing so, with the aid of

some friends, when, accompanied by John Wilkes, I came up. There was

a fray, in the course of which I ran him through the shoulder. The

young lady returned home with us, and has since heartily repented of

her folly. I had not seen the man since that time till I met him

yesterday; but certainly the house was watched for some time, as I

believe, by his associates who would probably have done me an ill

turn had I gone out after nightfall."

"That explains it, Cyril. I will tell Mr. Harvey, whose mind has been

much puzzled by your recognition of his son."

CHAPTER XVII

SMITTEN DOWN

Two days later, Cyril started at his usual hour to go to Dr. Hodges';

but he had proceeded but a few yards when a man, who was leaning

against the wall, suddenly lurched forward and caught him round the

neck. Thinking that the fellow had been drinking, Cyril angrily tried

to shake him off. As he did so the man's hat, which had been pressed

down over his eyes, fell off, and, to his astonishment, Cyril

recognised John Harvey.

"You villain! What are you doing here?" he exclaimed, as he freed

himself from the embrace, sending his assailant staggering back

against the wall.

The man's face lit up with a look of savage exultation..

"I told you you should hear from me again," he said, "and I have kept

my word. I knew the hour you went out, and I have been waiting for

you. You are a doomed man. I have the Plague, and I have breathed in

your face. Before twenty-four hours have passed you will be, as I am,

a dying man. That is a good piece of vengeance. You may be a better

swordsman than I am, but you can't fight with the Plague."

Cyril drew back in horror. As he did so, a change came over John

Harvey's face, he muttered a few words incoherently, swayed backwards

and forwards, and then slid to the ground in a heap. A rush of blood

poured from his mouth, and he fell over dead.

Cyril had seen more than one similar death in the streets, but the

horrible malignity of this man, and his sudden death, gave him a

terrible shock. He felt for the moment completely unmanned, and,

conscious that he was too unhinged for work, he turned and went back

to the house.

"You look pale, lad," John Wilkes said, as Cyril went upstairs. "What

brings you back so soon?"

"I have had rather a shock, John." And he told him of what had

happened.

"That was enough to startle you, lad. I should say the best thing you

could do would be to take a good strong tumbler of grog, and then lay

down."

"That I will do, and will take a dose of the medicine Dr. Hodges

makes everyone take when the infection first shows itself in a house.

As you know, I have never had any fear of the Plague hitherto. I

don't say that I am afraid of it now, but I have run a far greater

risk of catching it than I have ever done before, for until now I

have never been in actual contact with anyone with the disease."

After a sleep Cyril rose, and feeling himself again, went to call

upon Mr. Wallace.

"I shall not come again for a few days," he said, after telling him

what had happened, but without mentioning the name of John Harvey,

"but I will send you a note every other day by John Wilkes. If he

does not come, you will know that I have taken the malady, and in

that case, Mr. Wallace, I know that I shall have your prayers for my

recovery. I am sure that I shall be well cared for by John Wilkes."

"Of my prayers you maybe sure, Cyril; and, indeed, I have every faith

that, should you catch the malady, you will recover from it. You have

neither well-nigh frightened yourself to death, nor have you dosed

yourself with drugs until nature was exhausted before the struggle

began. You will, I am sure, be calm and composed, and above all you

have faith in God, and the knowledge that you have done your part to

carry out His orders, and to visit the sick and aid those in sorrow."

The next day Cyril was conscious of no change except that he felt a

disinclination to exert himself. The next morning he had a feeling of

nausea.

"I think that I am in for it, John," he said. "But at any rate it can

do no harm to try that remedy you spoke of that is used in the East.

First of all, let us fumigate the room. As far as I have seen, the

smoke of tobacco is the best preservative against the Plague. Now do

you, John, keep a bit of tobacco in your mouth."

"That I mostly do, lad."

"Well, keep a bigger bit than usual, John, and smoke steadily. Still,

that will not be enough. Keep the fire burning, and an iron plate

heated to redness over it. Bring that into my room from time to time,

and burn tobacco on it. Keep the room full of smoke."

"I will do that," John said, "but you must not have too much of it. I

am an old hand, and have many times sat in a fo'castle so full of

smoke that one could scarce see one's hands, but you are not

accustomed to it, and it may like enough make you sick."

"There will be no harm in that, John, so that one does not push it

too far. Now, how are you going to set about this sweating process?"

"While you undress and get into bed I will get a blanket ready. It is

to be dipped in boiling water, and then wrung out until it is as dry

as we can get it. Then you are wrapped in that, and then rolled in

five or six dry blankets to keep in the heat. You will keep in that

until you feel almost weak with sweating; then I take you out and

sponge you with warmish water, and then wrap you in another dry

blanket."

"You had better sponge me with vinegar, John."

Cyril undressed. When he had done so he carefully examined himself,

and his eye soon fell on a black spot on the inside of his leg, just

above the knee. It was the well-known sign of the Plague.

"I have got it, John," he said, when the latter entered with a pile

of blankets.

"Well, then, we have got to fight it, Master Cyril, and we will beat

it if it is to be beaten. Now, lad, for the hot blanket."

"Lay it down on the bed, and I will wrap myself in it, and the same

with the others. Now I warn you, you are not to come nearer to me

than you can help, and above all you are not to lean over me. If you

do, I will turn you out of the room and lock the door, and fight it