"Where am I?" she exclaimed, with a terrified look, as she strove to

raise herself on her elbow, and fell instantaneously back with a cry

of agony, as she felt for the first time the throbbing anguish of the

wound.

"You are with friends, dear lady!" said Sir Norman, in a voice quite

tremulous between astonishment and delight. "Fear nothing, for you shall

be saved."

The great black eyes turned wildly upon him, while a fierce spasm

convulsed the beautiful face.

"O, my God, I remember! I have the plague!" And, with a prolonged shriek

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of anguish, that thrilled even to the hardened heart of the dead-cart

driver, the girl fell back senseless again. Sir Norman Kingsley

sprang to his feet, and with more the air of a frantic lunatic than a

responsible young English knight, caught the cold form in his arms, laid

it in the dead-cart, and was about springing into the driver's seat,

when that individual indignantly interposed.

"Come, now; none of that! If you were the king himself, you shouldn't

run away with my cart in that fashion; so you just get out of my place

as fast as you can!"

"My dear Kingsley, what are you about to do?" asked Ormiston, catching

his excited friend by the arm.

"Do!" exclaimed Sir Norman, in a high key. "Can't you see that for

yourself! And I'm going to have that girl cured of the plague, if there

is such a thing as a doctor to be had for love or money in London."

"You had better have her taken to the pest house at once, then; there

are chirurgeons and nurses enough there."

"To the pest-house! Why man, I might as well have her thrown into the

plague-pit there, at once! Not I! I shall have her taken to my own

house, and there properly cared for, and this good fellow will drive her

there instantly."

Sir Norman backed this insinuation by putting a broad gold-piece into

the driver's hand, which instantly produced a magical effect on his

rather surly countenance.

"Certainly, sir," he began, springing into his seat with alacrity.

"Where shall I drive the young lady to?"

"Follow me," said Sir Norman. "Come along, Ormiston." And seizing

his friend by the arm, he hurried along with a velocity rather

uncomfortable, considering they both wore cloaks, and the night was

excessively sultry. The gloomy vehicle and its fainting burden followed

close behind.

"What do you mean to do with her?" asked Ormiston, as soon as he found

breath enough to speak.

"Haven't I told you?" said Sir Norman, impatiently. "Take her home, of

course."

"And after that?"

"Go for a doctor."

"And after that?"

"Take care of her till she gets well."

"And after that?"

"Why--find out her history, and all about her."




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