by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER XV
THE PLAGUE
Reluctant as they were to leave Cyril, Mrs. Dowsett and her daughterspeedily saw that the doctor's advice was good. Cyril did not saymuch, but an expression of restful satisfaction came over his face,and it was not long before he fell into a quiet sleep that contrastedstrongly with the restless and fretful state in which he had passedthe night.
"You see I was right, madam," the doctor said that evening. "Thefever has not quite left him, but he is a different man to what hewas this morning; another quiet night's rest, and he will regain theground he has lost. I think you can go in perfect comfort so far ashe is concerned. Another week and he will be up, if nothing occurs tothrow him back again; but of course it will be weeks before he canuse his arm."
John Wilkes had been sent off as soon as it was settled that theywould go, and had bought, at Epping, a waggon and a pair of stronghorses. It had a tilt, and the ladies were to sleep in it on thejourney, as it was certain that, until they were far away fromLondon, they would be unable to obtain lodgings. A man was engaged todrive them down, and a sail and two or three poles were packed in thewaggon to make a tent for him and Captain Dowsett. A store ofprovisions was cooked, and a cask of beer, another of water, and acase of wine were also placed in. Mattresses were laid down for theladies to sit on during the day and to sleep on at night; so theywould be practically independent during the journey. Early nextmorning they started.
"It seems heartless to leave you, Cyril," Nellie said, as they camein to say good-bye.
"Not heartless at all," Cyril replied. "I know that you are goingbecause I wish it."
"It is more than wishing, you tiresome boy. We are going because youhave made up your mind that you will be ill if we don't. You are tooweak to quarrel with now, but when we meet again, tremble, for I warnyou I shall scold you terribly then."
"You shall scold me as much as you please, Nellie; I shall take itall quite patiently."
Nellie and her mother went away in tears, and Captain Dave himselfwas a good deal upset. They had thought the going away from home onsuch a long journey would be a great trial, but this was now quitelost sight of in their regret at what they considered desertingCyril, and many were the injunctions that were given to John Wilkesbefore the waggon drove off. They were somewhat consoled by seeingthat Cyril was undoubtedly better and brighter. He had slept allnight without waking, his hands were cool, and the flush had entirelyleft his cheek.
"If they were starting on a voyage to the Indies they could not be ina greater taking," John Wilkes said, on returning to Cyril's bedside."Why, I have seen the Captain go off on a six months' voyage and lesssaid about it."
"I am heartily glad they are gone, John. If the Plague grows therewill be a terrible time here. Is the shop shut?"
"Ay; the man went away two days ago, and we sent off the two'prentices yesterday. There is naught doing. Yesterday half thevessels in the Pool cleared out on the news of the Plague having gotinto the City, and I reckon that, before long, there won't be a shipin the port. We shall have a quiet time of it, you and I; we shall belike men in charge of an old hulk."
Another week, and Cyril was up. All his bandages, except those on theshoulder and head, had been thrown aside, and the doctor said that,erelong, the former would be dispensed with. John had wanted to situp with him, but as Cyril would not hear of this he had moved his bedinto the same room, so that he could be up in a moment if anythingwas wanted. He went out every day to bring in the news.
"There is little enough to tell, Master Cyril," he said one day. "Sofar, the Plague grows but slowly in the City, though, indeed, it isno fault of the people that it does not spread rapidly. Most of themseem scared out of their wits; they gather together and talk, withwhite faces, and one man tells of a dream that his wife has had, andanother of a voice that he says he has heard; and some have seenghosts. Yesterday I came upon a woman with a crowd round her; she wasstaring up at a white cloud, and swore that she could plainly see anangel with a white sword, and some of the others cried that they sawit too. I should like to have been a gunner's mate with a stoutrattan, and to have laid it over their shoulders, to give themsomething else to think about for a few hours. It is downrightpitiful to see such cowards. At the corner of one street there was aquack, vending pills and perfumes that he warranted to keep away thePlague, and the people ran up and bought his nostrums by the score; Ihear there are a dozen such in the City, making a fortune out of thepeople's fears. I went into the tavern I always use, and had a glassof Hollands and a talk with the landlord. He says that he does asgood a trade as ever, though in a different way. There are no sailorsthere now, but neighbours come in and drink down a glass of strongwaters, which many think is the best thing against the Plague, andthen hurry off again. I saw the Gazette there, and it was half fullof advertisements of people who said they were doctors from foreignparts, and all well accustomed to cure the Plague. They say themagistrates are going to issue notices about shutting up houses, asthey do at St. Giles's, and to have watchmen at the doors to see nonecome in or go out, and that they are going to appoint examiners inevery parish to go from house to house to search for infectedpersons."
"I suppose these are proper steps to take," Cyril said, "but it willbe a difficult thing to keep people shut up in houses where one isinfected. No doubt it would be a good thing at the commencement ofthe illness, but when it has once spread itself, and the very airbecome infected, it seems to me that it will do but little good,while it will assuredly cause great distress and trouble. I long tobe able to get up myself, and to see about things."
"The streets have quite an empty aspect, so many have gone away; andwhat with that, and most of the shops being closed, and the dismalaspect of the people, there is little pleasure in being out, MasterCyril."
"I dare say, John. Still, it will be a change, and, as soon as I amstrong enough, I shall sally out with you."
Another fortnight, and Cyril was able to do so. The Plague had stillspread, but so slowly that people began to hope that the City wouldbe spared any great calamity, for they were well on in July, and inanother six weeks the heat of summer would be passed. Some of thosewho had gone into the country returned, more shops had been opened,and the panic had somewhat subsided.
"What do you mean to do, Master Cyril?" John Wilkes asked thatevening. "Of course you cannot join the Fleet again, for it will be,as the doctor says, another two months before your shoulder-bone willhave knit strongly enough for you to use your arm, and at sea it is amatter of more consequence than on land for a man to have the use ofboth arms. The ship may give a sudden lurch, and one may have to makea clutch at whatever is nearest to prevent one from rolling into thelee scuppers; and such a wrench as that would take from a weak armall the good a three months' nursing had done it, and might spoil thejob of getting the bone to grow straight again altogether. I don'tsay you are fit to travel yet, but you should be able before long tostart on a journey, and might travel down into Gloucestershire,where, be sure, you will be gladly welcomed by the Captain, his dame,and Mistress Nellie. Or, should you not care for that, you might goaboard a ship. There are hundreds of them lying idle in the river,and many families have taken up their homes there, so as to be freefrom all risks of meeting infected persons in the streets."
"I think I shall stay here, John, and keep you company. If the Plaguedies away, well and good. If it gets bad, we can shut ourselves up.You say that the Captain has laid in a great store of provisions, sothat you could live without laying out a penny for a year, and it isas sure as anything can be, that when the cold weather comes on itwill die out. Besides, John, neither you nor I are afraid of thePlague, and it is certain that it is fear that makes most people takeit. If it becomes bad, there will be terrible need for help, andmaybe we shall be able to do some good. If we are not afraid offacing death in battle, why should we fear it by the Plague. It is asnoble a death to die helping one's fellow-countrymen in their soredistress as in fighting for one's country."
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nbsp; "That is true enough, Master Cyril, if folks did but see it so. I donot see what we could do, but if there be aught, you can depend onme. I was in a ship in the Levant when we had a fever, which, itseems to me, was akin to this Plague, though not like it in all itssymptoms. Half the crew died, and, as you say, I verily believe thatit was partly from the lowness of spirits into which they fell fromfear. I used to help nurse the sick, and throw overboard the dead,and it never touched me. I don't say that I was braver than others,but it seemed to me as it was just as easy to take things comfortableas it was to fret over them."
Towards the end of the month the Plague spread rapidly, and all workceased in the parishes most affected. But, just as it had raged forweeks in the Western parishes outside the City, so it seemedrestricted by certain invisible lines, after it had made its entrywithin the walls, and while it raged in some parts others wereentirely unaffected, and here shops were open, and the streets stillretained something of their usual appearance. There had been greatwant among the poorer classes, owing to the cessation of work,especially along the riverside. The Lord Mayor, some of the Aldermen,and most other rich citizens had hastened to leave the City. Whilemany of the clergy were deserting their flocks, and many doctorstheir patients, others remained firmly at their posts, and workedincessantly, and did all that was possible in order to check thespread of the Plague and to relieve the distress of the poor.
Numbers of the women were engaged as nurses. Examiners were appointedin each parish, and these, with their assistants, paid house-to-housevisitations, in order to discover any who were infected; and as soonas the case was discovered the house was closed, and none suffered togo in or out, a watchman being placed before the door day and night.Two men therefore were needed to each infected house, and thisafforded employment for numbers of poor. Others were engaged indigging graves, or in going round at night, with carts, collectingthe dead.
So great was the dread of the people at the thought of being shut upin their houses, without communication with the world, that everymeans was used for concealing the fact that one of the inmates wassmitten down. This was the more easy because the early stages of thedisease were without pain, and people were generally ignorant thatthey had been attacked until within a few hours, and sometimes withina few minutes, of their death; consequently, when the Plague had oncespread, all the precautions taken to prevent its increase wereuseless, while they caused great misery and suffering, and doubtlessvery much greater loss of life. For, owing to so many being shut upin the houses with those affected, and there being no escape from theinfection, whole families, with the servants and apprentices, sickenedand died together.
Cyril frequently went up to view the infected districts. He was notmoved by curiosity, but by a desire to see if there were no way ofbeing of use. There was not a street but many of the houses weremarked with the red cross. In front of these the watchmen sat onstools or chairs lent by the inmates, or borrowed from some housewhence the inhabitants had all fled. The air rang with pitiful cries.Sometimes women, distraught with terror or grief, screamed wildlythrough open windows. Sometimes people talked from the upper storiesto their neighbours on either hand, or opposite, prisoners likethemselves, each telling their lamentable tale of misery, of how manyhad died and how many remained.
It was by no means uncommon to see on the pavement men and women who,in the excess of despair or pain, had thrown themselves headlongdown. While such sounds and sights filled Cyril with horror, theyaroused still more his feelings of pity and desire to be of some use.Very frequently he went on errands for people who called down fromabove to him. Money was lowered in a tin dish, or other vessel, inwhich it lay covered with vinegar as a disinfectant. Taking it out,he would go and buy the required articles, generally food ormedicine, and, returning, place them in a basket that was againlowered.
The watchmen mostly executed these commissions, but many of them weresurly fellows, and, as they were often abused and cursed by thosewhom they held prisoners, would do but little for them. They had,moreover, an excuse for refusing to leave the door, because, as oftenhappened, it might be opened in their absence and the inmates escape.It was true that the watchmen had the keys, but the screws were oftendrawn from the locks inside; and so frequently was this done that atlast chains with padlocks were fastened to all the doors as soon asthe watch was set over them. But even this did not avail. Many of thehouses had communications at the backs into other streets, and soeluded the vigilance of the watch; while, in other cases,communications were broken through the walls into other houses, emptyeither by desertion or death, and the escape could thus be made underthe very eye of the watchman.
Very frequently Cyril went into a church when he saw the door open.Here very small congregations would be gathered, for there was a fearon the part of all of meeting with strangers, for these might,unknown to themselves, be already stricken with the pest, and allpublic meetings of any kind were, for this reason, strictlyforbidden. One day, he was passing a church that had hitherto beenalways closed, its incumbent being one of those who had fled at theoutbreak of the Plague. Upon entering he saw a larger congregationthan usual, some twenty or thirty people being present.
The minister had just mounted the pulpit, and was beginning hisaddress as Cyril entered. The latter was struck with his appearance.He was a man of some thirty years of age, with a strangely earnestface. His voice was deep, but soft and flexible, and in the stillnessof the almost empty church its lowest tones seemed to come withimpressive power, and Cyril thought that he had never heard suchpreaching before. The very text seemed strange at such a time:_"Rejoice ye, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand."_ From most ofthe discourses he had heard Cyril had gone out depressed rather thaninspirited. They had been pitched in one tone. The terrible scourgethat raged round them was held up as a punishment sent by the wrathof God upon a sinful people, and the congregation were warned toprepare themselves for the fate, that might at any moment be theirs,by repentance and humiliation. The preacher to whom Cyril was nowlistening spoke in an altogether different strain.
"You are all soldiers of Christ," he said, "and now is an opportunitygiven to you to show that you are worthy soldiers. When the troops ofa worldly monarch go into battle they do so with head erect, withproud and resolute bearing, with flashing eye, and with high courage,determined to bear aloft his banner and to crown it with victory,even though it cost them their lives. Such is the mien that soldiersof Christ should bear in the mortal strife now raging round us. Letthem show the same fearlessness of death, the same high courage, thesame unlimited confidence in their Leader. What matter if they die inHis service? He has told them what their work should be. He hasbidden them visit the sick and comfort the sorrowing. What if therebe danger in the work? Did He shrink from the Cross which was to endHis work of love, and is it for His followers to do so? 'Though yougo down into the pit,' He has said, 'I am there also'; and with Hiscompanionship one must be craven indeed to tremble. This is a nobleopportunity for holding high the banner of Christ. There is work tobe done for all, and as the work is done, men should see by the calmcourage, the cheerfulness, and the patience of those that do it, thatthey know that they are doing His work, and that they are content toleave the issue, whatever it be, in His hands."
Such was the tone in which, for half an hour, he spoke. When he hadfinished he offered up a prayer, gave the blessing, and then camedown from the pulpit and spoke to several of the congregation. He wasevidently personally known to most of them. One by one, after a fewwords, they left the church. Cyril remained to the last.
"I am willing to work, sir," he said, as the preacher came up, "but,so far, no work has come in my way."
"Have you father or mother, or any dependent on you?"
"No one, sir."
"Then come along with me; I lodge close by. I have eaten nothingto-day, and must keep up my strength, and I have a long round ofcalls to make."
"This is the first time I have seen the church open," Cyril said, asthey went out.
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br /> "It is not my church, sir, nor do I belong to the Church of England;I am an Independent. But as many of the pastors have fled and lefttheir sheep untended, so have we--for there are others besides myselfwho have done so--taken possession of their empty pulpits, nonegainsaying us, and are doing what good we can. You have been in thewar, I see," he went on, glancing at Cyril's arm, which was carriedin a sling.
"Yes; I was at the battle of Lowestoft, and having been woundedthere, came to London to stay in a friend's house till I was cured.He and his family have left, but I am living with a trusty foremanwho is in charge of the house. I have a great desire to be useful. Imyself have little fear of the Plague."
"That is the best of all preservatives from its ravages, although nota sure one; for many doctors who have laboured fearlessly have yetdied. Have you thought of any way of being useful?"
"No, sir; that is what is troubling me. As you see, I have but theuse of one arm, and I have not got back my full strength by a longway."
"Everyone can be useful if he chooses," the minister said. "There isneed everywhere among this stricken, frightened, helpless people, ofmen of calm courage and cool heads. Nine out of ten are so scared outof their senses, when once the Plague enters the houses, as to bewell-nigh useless, and yet the law hinders those who would help ifthey could. I am compelled to labour, not among those who are sick,but among those who are well. When one enters a house with the redcross on the door, he may leave it no more until he is either borneout to the dead-cart, or the Plague has wholly disappeared within it,and a month has elapsed. The sole exception are the doctors; they areno more exempt from spreading the infection than other men, but asthey must do their work so far as they can they have free passage;and yet, so few is their number and so heavy already their losses,that not one in a hundred of those that are smitten can have theiraid. Here is one coming now, one of the best--Dr. Hodges. If you areindeed willing so to risk your life, I will speak to him. But I knownot your name?"
"My name is Cyril Shenstone."
The clergyman looked at him suddenly, and would have spoken, but thedoctor was now close to them.
"Ah! Mr. Wallace," he said, "I am glad to see you, and to know that,so far, you have not taken the disease, although constantly goinginto the worst neighbourhoods."
"Like yourself, Dr. Hodges, I have no fear of it."
"I do not say I have no fear," the doctor replied. "I do my duty sofar as I can, but I do not doubt that, sooner or later, I shall catchthe malady, as many of us have done already. I take such precautionsas I can, but the distemper seems to baffle all precautions. My onlygrief is that our skill avails so little. So far we have foundnothing that seems to be of any real use. Perhaps if we could attackit in the earlier stages we might be more successful. The strangenature of the disease, and the way in which it does its workwell-nigh to the end, before the patient is himself aware of it, putsit out of our power to combat it. In many cases I am not sent foruntil the patient is at the point of death, and by the time I reachhis door I am met with the news that he is dead. But I must begoing."
"One moment, Dr. Hodges. This young gentleman has been expressing tome his desire to be of use. I know nothing of him save that he wasone of my congregation this morning, but, as he fears not the Plague,and is moved by a desire to help his fellows in distress, I take itthat he is a good youth. He was wounded in the battle of Lowestoft,and, being as ready to encounter the Plague as he was the Dutch,would now fight in the cause of humanity. Would you take him as anassistant? I doubt if he knows anything of medicine, but I think heis one that would see your orders carried out. He has no relations orfriends, and therefore considers himself free to venture his life."
The doctor looked earnestly at Cyril and then raised his hat.
"Young sir," he said, "since you are willing so to venture your life,I will gladly accept your help. There are few enough clear heads inthis city, God knows. As for the nurses, they are Jezebels. They havethe choice of starving or nursing, and they nurse; but they neglecttheir patients, they rob them, and there is little doubt that in manycases they murder them, so that at the end of their first nursingthey may have enough money to live on without going to another house.But I am pressed for time. Here is my card. Call on me this eveningat six, and we will talk further on the matter."
Shaking hands with the minister he hurried away.
"Come as far as my lodgings," Mr. Wallace said to Cyril, "and staywith me while I eat my meal. 'Tis a diversion to one's mind to turnfor a moment from the one topic that all men are speaking of.
"Your name is Shenstone. I come from Norfolk. There was a family ofthat name formerly had estates near my native place. One Sir AubreyShenstone was at its head--a brave gentleman. I well remember seeinghim when I was a boy, but he took the side of the King against theParliament, and, as we heard, passed over with Charles to France whenhis cause was lost. I have not heard of him since."
"Sir Aubrey was my father," Cyril said quietly; "he died a year ago.I am his only son."
"And therefore Sir Cyril," the minister said, "though you did not soname yourself."
"It was needless," Cyril said. "I have no estates to support mytitle, and though it is true that, when at sea with Prince Rupert, Iwas called Sir Cyril, it was because the Prince had known my father,and knew that I, at his death, inherited the title, though Iinherited nothing else."
They now reached the door of Mr. Wallace's lodging, and went up tohis room on the first floor.
"Neglect no precaution," the minister said. "No one should throw awayhis life. I myself, although not a smoker, nor accustomed to takesnuff, use it now, and would, as the doctors advise, chew a piece oftobacco, but 'tis too nasty, and when I tried it, I was so ill that Ithought even the risk of the Plague preferable. But I carry camphorin my pockets, and when I return from preaching among people of whomsome may well have the infection, I bathe my face and hands withvinegar, and, pouring some on to a hot iron, fill the room with itsvapour. My life is useful, I hope, and I would fain keep it, as longas it is the Lord's will, to work in His service. As a rule, I takewine and bread before I go out in the morning, though to-day I waspressed for time, and neglected it. I should advise you always to doso. I am convinced that a full man has less chance of catching theinfection than a fasting one, and that it is the weakness many mensuffer from their fears, and from their loss of appetite from grief,that causes them to take it so easily. When the fever was so bad inSt. Giles's, I heard that in many instances, where whole familieswere carried away, the nurses shut up with them were untouched withthe infection, and I believe that this was because they had becomehardened to the work, and ate and drank heartily, and troubled notthemselves at all at the grief of those around them. They say thatmany of these harpies have grown, wealthy, loading themselves witheverything valuable they could lay hands on in the houses of thosethey attended."
After the meal, in which he insisted upon Cyril joining him, wasconcluded, Mr. Wallace uttered a short prayer that Cyril might safelypass through the work he had undertaken.
"I trust," he said, "that you will come here frequently? I generallyhave a few friends here of an evening. We try to be cheerful, and tostrengthen each other, and I am sure we all have comfort at thesemeetings."
"Thank you, I will come sometimes, sir; but as a rule I must returnhome, for my friend, John Wilkes, would sorely miss my company, andis so good and faithful a fellow that I would not seem to desert himon any account."
"Do as you think right, lad, but remember there will always be awelcome for you here when you choose to come."
John Wilkes was dismayed when he heard of Cyril's intention.
"Well, Master Cyril," he said, after smoking his pipe in silence forsome time, "it is not for me to hinder you in what you have made upyour mind to do. I don't say that if I wasn't on duty here that Imightn't go and do what I could for these poor creatures. But I don'tknow. It is one thing to face a deadly fever like this Plague if itcomes on board your own ship, for there is no ge
tting out of it; andas you have got to face it, why, says I, do it as a man; but as forgoing out of your way to put yourself in the middle of it, that isgoing a bit beyond me."
"Well, John, you didn't think it foolish when I went as a Volunteerto fight the Dutch. It was just the same thing, you know."
"I suppose it was," John said reluctantly, after a pause. "But then,you see, you were fighting for your country."
"Well, but in the present case I shall be fighting for my countrymenand countrywomen, John. It is awful to think of the misery thatpeople are suffering, and it seems to me that, having nothing else todo here, it is specially my duty to put my hand to the work ofhelping as far as I can. The risk may, at present, be greater than itwould be if I stayed at home, but if the Plague spreads--and it looksas if all the City would presently be affected--all will have to runthe risk of contagion. There are thousands of women now whovoluntarily enter the houses as nurses for a small rate of pay. Evenrobbers, they say, will enter and ransack the houses of the dead insearch of plunder. It will be a shame indeed then if one shouldshrink from doing so when possibly one might do good."
"I will say nothing more against it, Master Cyril. Still, I do notsee exactly what you are going to do; with one arm you could scarcehold down a raving man."
"I am not going to be a nurse, certainly, John," Cyril said, with alaugh. "I expect that the doctor wants certain cases watched. Eitherhe may doubt the nurses, or he may want to see how some particulardrug works. Nothing, so far, seems of use, but that may be partlybecause the doctors are all so busy that they cannot watch thepatients and see, from hour to hour, how medicines act."
"When I was in the Levant, and the pest was bad there," John Wilkessaid, "I heard that the Turks, when seized with the distemper,sometimes wrapped themselves up in a great number of clothes, so thatthey sweated heavily, and that this seemed, in some cases, to drawoff the fever, and so the patient recovered."
"That seems a sensible sort of treatment, John, and worth trying withthis Plague."
On calling on Dr. Hodges that afternoon, Cyril found that he hadrightly guessed the nature of the work that the doctor wished him toperform.
"I can never rely upon the nurses," he said. "I give instructionswith medicines, but in most cases I am sure that the instructions arenever carried out. The relations and friends are too frightened tothink or act calmly, too full of grief for the sick, and anxiety forthose who have not yet taken the illness, to watch the changes in thepatient. As to the nurses, they are often drunk the whole time theyare in the house. Sometimes they fear to go near the sick man orwoman; sometimes, undoubtedly, they hasten death. In most cases itmatters little, for we are generally called in too late to be of anyservice. The poor people view us almost as enemies; they hide theirmalady from us in every way. Half our time, too, is wasted uselessly,for many are there who frighten themselves into the belief that theyare ill, and send for us in all haste. So far, we feel that we areworking altogether in the dark; none of us can see that any sort ofdrug avails even in the slightest degree when the malady has once gota hold. One in twenty cases may live, but why we know not. Still thefact that some do live shows that the illness is not necessarilymortal, and that, could the right remedy befound, we might yetovercome it. The first thing, however, is to try to prevent itsspread. Here we have ten or more people shut up in a house with onesick person. It is a terrible necessity, for it is a sentence ofdeath to many, if not to all. We give the nurses instructions tofumigate the room by evaporating vinegar upon hot irons, by burningspices and drugs, by sprinkling perfumes. So far, I cannot see thatthese measures have been of any service, but I cannot say howthoroughly they have been carried out, and I sorely need an assistantto see that the system is fairly tried. It is not necessary that heshould be a doctor, but he must have influence and power over thosein the house. He must be calm and firm, and he must be regarded bythe people as a doctor. If you will undertake this, you must put on awig, for you know that that is looked upon as a necessary part of adoctor's outfit by people in general. I shall introduce you as myassistant, and say that you are to be obeyed as implicitly as if Imyself were present. There is another reason why you must pass as adoctor, for you would otherwise be a prisoner and unable to pass inand out. You had best wear a black suit. I will lend you one of mycanes and a snuff-box, and should advise you to take snuff, even ifit is not your habit, for I believe that it is good againstinfection, and one of the experiments I wish to try is as to what itsresult may be if burnt freely in the house. Are you ready toundertake this work?"
"Quite ready, sir."
"Then come round here at eight in the morning. I shall have heard bythat hour from the examiners of this parish of any fresh case theyhave found. They begin their rounds at five o'clock."
The next day Cyril presented himself at the doctor's, dressed inblack, with white ruffles to his shirt, and a flowing wig he hadpurchased the night before.
"Here are the cane and snuff-box," Dr. Hodges said. "Now you willpass muster very well as my assistant. Let us be off at once; for Ihave a long list of cases."
Cyril remained outside while Dr. Hodges went into three or fourhouses. Presently he came down to the door, and said to him,--
"This is a case where things are favourable for a first trial. It isa boy who is taken ill, and the parents, though in deep grief, seemto have some sense left."
He turned to the watchman, who had already been placed at the door.The man, who evidently knew him, had saluted respectfully when heentered the house.
"This gentleman is my assistant," he said, "and you will allow him topass in and out just as you would myself. He is going to take thiscase entirely in hand, and you will regard him as being in chargehere."
He then re-entered the house with Cyril, and led him to the roomwhere the parents of the boy, and two elder sisters, were assembled.
"This is my assistant," he said, "and he has consented to take entirecharge of the case, though I myself shall look in and consult withhim every morning. In the first place, your son must be taken to thetop storey of the house. You say that you are ready to nurse himyourselves, and do not wish that a paid nurse should be had in. Icommend your determination, for the nurses are, for the most part,worse than useless, and carry the infection all over the house. Butonly one of you must go into the room, and whoever goes in must staythere. It is madness for all to be going in and out and exposingthemselves to the infection when no good can be done. When this isthe case, one or other is sure to take the malady, and then itspreads to all. Which of you will undertake the duty?"
All four at once offered themselves, and there was an earnest contestbetween them for the dangerous post. Dr. Hodges listened for a minuteor two, and then decided upon the elder of the two sisters--a quiet,resolute-looking girl with a healthy face.
"This young lady shall be nurse," he said. "I feel that I can haveconfidence in her. She looks healthy and strong, and would, methinks,best resist the malady, should she take it. I am leaving my assistanthere for a time to see to the fumigation of the house. You willplease see that his orders are carried out in every respect. I haveevery hope that if this is done the Plague will not spread further;but much must depend upon yourselves. Do not give way to grief, butencourage each other, and go about with calm minds. I see," he said,pointing to a Bible on the table, "that you know where to go forcomfort and strength. The first thing is to carry the boy up to theroom that we chose for him."
"I will do that," the father said.
"He had better be left in the blankets in which he is lying. Coverhim completely over with them, for, above all, it is necessary thatyou should not inhale his breath. You had better take the head andyour daughter the feet. But first see that the room upstairs isprepared."
In a few minutes the lad was transferred to the upper room, thedoctor warning the others not to enter that from which he had beencarried until it had been fumigated and sprinkled with vinegar.
"Now," he said to the girl who was to remain with the p
atient, "keepthe window wide open; as there is no fireplace, keep a brazier ofcharcoal burning near the window. Keep the door shut, and open itonly when you have need for something. Give him a portion of thismedicine every half hour. Do not lean over him--remember that hisbreath is a fatal poison. Put a pinch of these powdered spices intothe fire every few minutes. Pour this perfume over your handkerchief,and put it over your mouth and nose whenever you approach the bed. Heis in a stupor now, poor lad, and I fear that his chance of recoveryis very slight; but you must remember that your own life is of valueto your parents, and that it behoves you to do all in your power topreserve it, and that if you take the contagion it may spread throughthe house. We shall hang a sheet, soaked in vinegar, outside thedoor."
"We could not have a better case for a trial," he said, as he wentdownstairs and joined Cyril, whom he had bidden wait below. "Thepeople are all calm and sensible, and if we succeed not here, thereis small chance of our succeeding elsewhere."
The doctor then gave detailed orders as to fumigating the house, andleft. Cyril saw at once that a brazier of charcoal was lighted andcarried upstairs, and he called to the girl to come out and fetch itin. As soon as she had done so the sheet was hung over the door. Thenhe took another brazier, placed it in the room from which the boy hadbeen carried, laid several lumps of sulphur upon it, and then leftthe room. All the doors of the other rooms were then thrown open, anda quantity of tobacco, spices, and herbs, were burnt on a red-hotiron at the foot of the stairs, until the house was filled with adense smoke. Half an hour later all the windows were opened.
