"I shall ask Rochester about him the first thing to-morrow; and unless

he is an optical illusion--which I vow I half believe is the case--I

will come at the truth in spite of your demoniac friend, La Masque!"

"Then you do not mean to look for him to-night?"

"Look for him? I might as well look for a needle in a haystack. No! I

have promised La Masque to visit the old ruins, and there I shall go

forthwith. Will you accompany me?"

"I think not. I have a word to say to La, Masque, and you and she kept

talking so busily, I had no chance to put it in."

Sir Norman laughed.

Advertisement..

"Besides, I have no doubt it is a word you would not like to utter in

the presence of a third party, even though that third party be

your friend and Pythias, Kingsley. Do you mean to stay here like a

plague-sentinel until she returns?"

"Possibly; or if I get tired I may set out in search of her. When do you

return?"

"The Fates, that seem to make a foot-ball of my best affections, and

kick them as they please, only know. If nothing happens--which, being

interpreted, means, if I am still in the land of the living--I shall

surely be back by daybreak."

"And I shall be anxious about that time to hear the result of your

night's adventure; so where shall we meet?"

"Why not here? it is as good a place an any."

"With all my heart. Where do you propose getting a horse?"

"At the King's Arms--but a stones throw from here. Farewell."

"Good-night, and God speed you!" said Ormiston. And wrapping his cloak

close about him, he leaned against the doorway, and, watching the

dancing lights on the river, prepared to await the return of La Masque.

With his head full of the adventures and misadventures of the night, Sir

Norman walked thoughtfully on until he reached the King's Arms--a low

inn on the bank of the river. To his dismay he found the house shut up,

and bearing the dismal mark and inscription of the pestilence. While

he stood contemplating it in perplexity, a watchman, on guard before

another plague-stricken house, advanced and informed him that the whole

family had perished of the disease, and that the landlord himself, the

last survivor, had been carried off not twenty minutes before to the

plague-pit.

"But," added the man, seeing Sir Norman's look of annoyance, and being

informed what he wanted, "there are two or three horses around there

in the stable, and you may as well help yourself, for if you don't take

them, somebody else will."

This philosophic logic struck Sir Norman as being so extremely

reasonable, that without more ado he stepped round to the stables and

selected the best it contained. Before proceeding on his journey, it

occurred to him that, having been handling a plague-patient, it would

be a good thing to get his clothes fumigated; so he stepped into an

apothecary's store for that purpose, and provided himself also with

a bottle of aromatic vinegar. Thus prepared for the worst, Sir Norman

sprang on his horse like a second Don Quixote striding his good steed

Rozinante, and sallied forth in quest of adventures. These, for a short

time, were of rather a dismal character; for, hearing the noise of

a horse's hoofs in the silent streets at that hour of the night, the

people opened their doors as he passed by, thinking it the pest-cart,

and brought forth many a miserable victim of the pestilence. Averting

his head from the revolting spectacles, Sir Norman held the bottle of

vinegar to his nostrils, and rode rapidly till he reached Newgate. There

he was stopped until his bill of health was examined, and that small

manuscript being found all right, he was permitted to pass on in peace.

Everywhere he went, the trail of the serpent was visible over all. Death

and Desolation went hand in hand. Outside as well as inside the gates,

great piles of wood and coal were arranged, waiting only the midnight

hour to be fired. Here, however, no one seemed to be stirring; and no

sound broke the silence but the distant rumble of the death-cart, and

the ringing of the driver's bell. There were lights in some of the

houses, but many of them were dark and deserted, and nearly every one

bore the red cross of the plague.




Most Popular