The Sign of the Red Cross: A Tale of Old London

  CHAPTER XIV. BRIGHTER DAYS.

  "The plague is abating! the plague is abating! The bills were lowerby two thousand last week! They say the city is like to go mad withjoy. I would fain go and see what is happening there. Prithee, goodaunt, let me e'en do so much. I shall take no hurt. Methinks,having escaped all peril heretofore, I may be accounted safe now."

  This was Joseph's eager petition as he rushed homewards after astroll in the direction of the town one evening early in October.There had been rumours of an improvement in the health of the cityfor perhaps ten days now, notwithstanding the fearful mortalityduring the greater part of September. Therefore were the weeklybills most eagerly looked for, and when it was ascertained that themortality had diminished by two thousand (when, from the number ofsick, it might well have risen by that same amount), it did indeedseem as though the worst were over; and great was the joy whichJoseph's news brought to those within the walls of that cottagehome.

  Yet Mary Harmer was wise and cautious in the answer she gave to theeager boy.

  "Wait yet one week longer, Joseph; for we may not presume uponGod's goodness and mercy, and adventure ourselves without causeinto danger. The city has been fearfully ravaged of late. The veryair seems to have been poisoned and tainted, and there are streetsand lanes which, they say, it is even now death to enter. Thereforewait yet another week, and then we will consider what is safe to bedone. Right glad should I be for news of your father and mother;but we have been patient this long while, and we will be patientstill."

  "Our good aunt is wise," said Reuben, who looked wonderfully betterfor his stay in fresh country air, albeit still rather gaunt andpale. "It is like that this good news itself may lead men to besomewhat reckless in their joy and confidence. We will not movetill we have another report. Perchance our father may be able tolet us know ere long of his welfare and that of the rest at home."

  All through the week that followed encouraging and cheering reportsof the abatement of the plague were heard by those living on theoutskirts of the stricken city; and when the next week's billshowed a further enormous decrease in the death rate, Mary Harmerpermitted Joseph to pay a visit home, his return being eagerlywaited for in the cottage. He came just as the early twilight wasdrawing in, and his face was bright and joyous.

  "It is like another city," he cried. "I had not thought there couldbe so many left as I saw in the streets today. And they went aboutshaking each other by the hand, and smiling, and even laughingaloud in their joy. And if they saw a shut-up house, and nonelooking forth from the windows, some one would stand and shoutaloud till those within looked out, and then he would tell them thegood news that the plague was abating; and at that sound many poorcreatures would fall a-weeping, and praise the Lord that He hadleft even a remnant."

  "Poor creatures!" said Mary Harmer with commiseration; "it has beena dismal year for thousands upon thousands!"

  "Ay, verily. I cannot think that London will ever be full again,"said the boy. "There be whole streets with scarce an inhabitantleft, and we know that multitudes of those who fled died of thepestilence on the road and in other places. But today there was nomemory for the misery of the past, only joy that the scourge wasabating. It is not that many do not still fall ill of thedistemper, but that they recover now, where once they would havedied. And whereas three weeks back they died in a day or two days,now even if so be as they do die, it takes the poison eight or tendays to kill them. The physicians say that that is because themalignity of the distemper is abating, wherefore men scarce fear itnow, and come freely abroad, not in despair, as they did when itwas so virulent a scourge, but because they fear it so much lessthan before."

  "And our parents and those at home?" asked Reuben eagerly.

  "All well, though something weary and worn; but it is wondrous howthey have borne up all through. Father says that he will comehither to see us all the first moment he can. His duties are liketo have a speedy end; and he is longing for a sight of Reuben'sface, and of something better than closed houses and the wan facesof the sick or the mourners."

  "Poor brother James!" said Mary softly; "I would that he and hiswould leave the city behind for a while, and remain under my roofto recover their strength and health. It must have been a sorelytrying time. Think you that they could leave the house together?For we would make shift to receive them all, an they could come."

  This was a most delightful idea to all the party. The hospitablecottage had plenty of rooms, although many of these were but atticsbeneath the thatched roof, none too light or commodious. In summerthey might have been too warm and stuffy to be agreeable sleepingplaces, but in the cooler autumn they would be good enough forhardy young folks brought up simply and plainly.

  Joseph and Benjamin at once dashed all over the place, making plansfor the housing of the whole party. It would be the finest end to amelancholy period, being all together here in this homelike place.

  Everything was duly arranged in the hopes of winning the father'sconsent to the scheme. Mary Harmer hunted up stores of bedding andlinen, the latter of her own weaving, and every day they waitedimpatiently for the appearing of James Harmer, who, however, wasunaccountably long in making his appearance.

  He came at last, but it was with a sorrowful face and a bowed lookwhich told at once a story of trouble, and made the whole partystand silent, after the first eager chorus of welcome, certain thathe was the bearer of bad news.

  "My poor boy Dan!" he said in a choked voice, and sat himselfheavily down upon the chair beside the hearth.

  "Dan!" cried Reuben, and the word was echoed by all the brothers intones of varying surprise and dismay. "You do not mean that he isdead!"

  "Taken to the plague pit a week ago. Just when all the world isrejoicing in the thought that the distemper is abating. Dr. Hookerspoke truly when he said that the confidence of the people was liketo be a greater peril than the disease itself. For those who aresick now come openly abroad into the streets, no longer afraid forthemselves or others, and thus it has come about that no man knowswhether he is safe, and my poor boy has been taken."

  Sad indeed were the faces of all, and the two little boys weredissolved in tears, as their father told how poor Dan had fallensick, and had succumbed on the fourth day to the poison.

  "Dr. Hooker said that he was worn out with his unceasing labours,else he would not have died," said the sorrowful father. "He hadtreated many worse cases even when things were worse, and broughtthem round. But Dan was worn out with all he had been doing for thepast months. He fell an easy prey; and he did not suffer much,thank God. He lay mostly in a torpor, much as Reuben did, as Ihear, but slowly sank away. His poor mother! She had begun to thinkthat she was to have all her children about her yet. But in truthwe must not repine, having so many left to us, when they say thereis scarce a family in all the town that has not lost its two,three, or four at best!"

  It almost seemed a more sorrowful thing to lose Dan just whenthings were beginning to look brighter, than it would have donewhen the distemper was at its height. But as the good man said,gratitude for so many spared ought to outweigh any repining forthose taken. After the first tears were shed, he gently checked inthose about him the inclination to mourn, saying that God knewbest, and had dealt very lovingly and bountifully with them; andthat they must trust His goodness and mercy all through, andbelieve that He had judged mercifully and tenderly in taking theirbrother from them.

  The sight of Reuben alive and well did much to assuage the father'sgrief; for there had been a time when he had not thought to lookupon the face of his firstborn in this life. He was also greatlypleased to learn that he had another daughter in the person ofgentle Gertrude, and he gladly undertook the negotiation of thepurchase of his neighbour's house, so that he should not know whothe purchaser was until the right moment came.

  Mary Harmer's proposal to take in the whole family for a spell offresh air and rest was gratefully accepted by the tired father.

  "I trow it would be the greatest boon for all of u
s, and may likelysave us from some peril," he said, "for, as I say, men seem to begone mad with joy that the malignity of the plague is so greatlyabating, and that the houses are no longer closed. For my own part,I would they were closed yet a little longer; but the impatience ofthe people would not now permit it, and they having shownthemselves in the main docile and obedient these many months, mustbe considered now that the worst of the peril is past. When theplague was at its worst last month, there was of necessity somerelaxation of stringent measures, because there were times whenneither watchmen nor nurses could be found, and common humanityforbade us to close houses when the inhabitants could not gettendance in the prescribed way. Moreover, a sort of desperation wasbred in men's minds, and the fear was the less because that everyman thought his own turn would assuredly come ere long. So thatwhen of a sudden the bills began to decrease, it seemedunreasonable to be more strict than we had been just before.Moreover, it was found harder to restrain the people in their joythan in their sorrow; and so we must hope for the best, and trustthat the lessened malignity of the disease will keep down themortality. For that there will continue to be many sick for weeksto come we cannot doubt. As for myself, knowing and fearing all Ido, nothing would more please and comfort me than to bring my wifeand girls hither to this safe spot. I had not dared to think youcould take such a party, Mary; but since you have already madeprovision for us, why, the sooner we all get forth from the city,the better will it please me."

  Great was the joy in the cottage occasioned by this answer. Sorrowfor the loss of poor Dan was almost forgotten in joyfulpreparation. Dan had not been much at home for many years, onlycoming and going as his ship chanced to put into port in the riveror not. Therefore his loss was not felt as that of Reuben wouldhave been. It seemed a sad and grievous thing, after having escapedso many perils, to come to his death at last; but so many familieshad suffered such infinitely greater loss, that repining andmourning seemed almost wrong. And the thought of seeing all thehome faces once more was altogether too delightful to admit of muchadmixture of grief.

  "I wonder if Dorcas will come," said Gertrude, as they hung aboutthe door awaiting the arrival which was expected every minute.

  Three days had now passed since James Harmer's first visit, and hewas to bring his wife and daughters in the afternoon, and stay thenight himself, returning on the morrow to transact some necessarybusiness, but spending much of his time with his family in thispleasant spot.

  Gertrude had offered to leave, if there were not room for her; butin truth she scarce knew where to go, since of her father she hadheard very little of late, and knew not how long his house would behis own.

  No one, however, would hear of such a thing as that she shouldleave them. She was already like a sister to the boys, and had inold days been as one to the girls. Moreover, as Mary Harmersometimes said, why should not she and Reuben be quietly marriedout here before they returned to the city, and then they could goback to their own house when all the negotiations had beencompleted and her father's mind relieved of its load of care?

  "Why should Dorcas not come?" asked Mary quickly. "My brother spokeof bringing all."

  "I was wondering if Lady Scrope would be willing to spare her," wasthe reply. "She is fond of Dorcas in her way, and is used to her.She might not be willing she should go, and she is very determinedwhen her mind is made up."

  "Yet I think she has a kind heart in spite of all her odd ways,"said Mary Harmer; "I scarce think she would keep the girl piningthere alone. But we shall see. My wonder would rather be if Janetand Rebecca could get free from the other house where the childrenare kept."

  "Father said that that house was to be emptied soon. The Lord Mayoris making many wise regulations for the support of those leftdestitute by the plague. Large sums of money kept flowing in allthe while the scourge lasted. The king sent large contributions,and other wealthy men followed his example. There be many widowsleft alone and desolate, and these are to have a sum of money andcertain orphan children to care for. All that will be settledspeedily; for who knows when my Lady Scrope's house may not bewanted by the tenant who ran away in such hot haste months ago? Itwill need purifying, too, and directions will shortly be issued, Itake it, for the right purification of infected houses.

  "My sisters will soon get their burdens off their hands. It is timethey had a change; they were looking worn and tired even before Ileft the city."

  "They are coming! they are coming! They are just here!" shoutedJoseph and Benjamin in one breath, coming rushing down from avantage post up to which they had climbed in one of the great elmtrees. "They must all be there--every one of them! It is like acaravan along the road; but I know it is they, for we saw fatherleading a horse, and mother was riding it--with such a lot of bagsand bundles!"

  The next minute the caravan hove in sight through the windings ofthe lane, and three minutes later there was such a confusion ofwelcomes going on that nothing intelligible could be said on eitherside; nor was it until the whole party was assembled round thetable in Mary Harmer's pleasant kitchen, ready to do justice to thegood cheer provided, that any kind of conversation could beattempted.

  The sisters felt like prisoners released. They laughed and cried asthey danced about the garden in the twilight, stooping down to laytheir faces against the cool, wet grass, and drinking in thescented air as though it were something to be tasted by palate andtongue.

  "It is so beautiful! it is so wonderful!" they kept exclaiming oneto the other, and the quaint, rambling cottage, with its barefloor, and simple, homely comforts, seemed every whit as charming.

  Dorcas was there, as well as Janet and Rebecca; and the threesisters, together with Gertrude, were to share a pair of atticswith a door of communication between them.

  They were delighted with everything. They kept laughing and kissingeach other for sheer joy of heart; and although a sigh, and amurmur of "Poor Dan! if only he could be here!" would break atintervals from one or another, yet in the intense joy of thismeeting, and in the sense of escape from the city in which they hadbeen so long imprisoned, all but thankfulness and delight mustneeds be forgotten, and it was a ring of wonderfully happy facesthat shone on Mary Harmer at the supper board that night.

  "This is indeed a kindly welcome, sister," said Rachel, as she satat her husband's right hand, looking round upon the dear faces shehad scarce dared hope to see thus reunited for so many weary weeks;"I could have desired nothing better for all of us. Thou canstscarcely know how it does feel to be free once more, to be able togo where one will, without vinegar cloths to one's face, and tofeel that the air is a thing to breathe with healing and delight,instead of to be feared lest there be death in its kiss! Ah me! Ithink God does not let us know how terrible a thing is till Hischastening hand is removed. We go on from day to day, and He givesus strength for each day as it comes; but had we known at thebeginning what lay before us, methinks our souls would have wellnigh fainted within us. And yet here we are--all but one--safe andsound at the other side!"

  "I truly never thought to see such fearful sights, and to comethrough such a terrible time of trial," said Dinah very gravely.She was one of the party included in Mary Harmer's hospitableinvitation, and looked indeed more in need of the rest and changethan any of the others. Her brother had had some ado to get her toquit her duties as nurse to the sick even yet, but it was notdifficult now to get tendance for them, and she felt so greatly theneed of rest that she had been persuaded at last.

  "Many and many are the times when I have been left the only livingbeing in a house--once, so far as I could tell, the only livingthing in a whole street! None may know, save those who have beenthrough it, the awful loneliness of being so shut in, with nothingnear but dead bodies. And yet the Lord has brought me through, andonly one of our number has been taken."

  The mother's eyes filled with tears, but her heart was too thankfulfor those spared her to let her grief be loud. One after anotherthose round the table spoke of the things they had seen and heard;but presently th
e talk drifted to brighter themes. Gertrude askedeagerly of her father, and where he was and what he was doing; andMary Harmer asked if he would not come and join them, if her housecould be made to hold another inmate.

  "He is well in health, but looks aged and harassed," was the answerof the father. "He has had sad losses. Half-finished houses havebeen thrown back on his hands through the death of those who hadcommenced them; he has been robbed of his stores of costlymerchandise; and poor Frederick's debts have mounted up to a greatsum. Now that people are flocking back into the city, and businessis reviving once more, he will have to meet his creditors, and canonly do this by the sale of his house. I saw him yesterday, andtold him I had heard of a purchaser already; whereat he was rightglad, fearing that he might be long in selling, since men mightfear to come back to the city, and whilst there were so manyhundreds of houses left empty. If he can once get rid of his loadof debt, he can strive to begin business again in a modest way.But, to be sure, it will be long before any houses will need to bebuilt; the puzzle will be how to fill those that are left empty. Ifear me he will find things hard for a while. But if he has a homewith you, my children, and if we all give what help we can, I doubtnot that little by little he may recover a part of what he haslost. He will be wise not to try so many different callings. If hehad not had so many ventures afloat in these troubled times, hewould not now have lost his all."

  "That was poor mother's wish," said Gertrude softly; "she wanted tobe rich quickly for Frederick's sake. I used to hear father tellher that the risk was too great; but she did not seem able tounderstand aright. I do not think it was father's own wish."

  "That is what I always said," answered James Harmer heartily; "andI trow things will be greatly better now, if once trade makes astart again. As for us, we have lost a summer's trade, but, beyondthat, all has been well with us. We have had the fewer outgoings,and so soon as the gentry and the Court come back again we shall beas busy as ever. The plague has done us little harm, for we had nogreat ventures afloat to miscarry, and had money laid by againstany time of necessity."

  That evening, before the party retired to rest, the father gatheredhis children and all the household about him, and offered a ferventthanksgiving for their preservation during this time of peril.After that they all separated to their own rooms, and the girls satlong together ere they sought their couches, talking, as girls willtalk, of all that had happened to them, and of the coming marriageof Gertrude and their brother, over which they heartily rejoiced.

  "I must e'en let Lady Scrope know when it is to be," said Dorcas,"if I can make shift to do so. I trow she would like to be there.She has taken a wondrous liking to thee, Gertrude, and she says shehas a fine opinion of Reuben, too. I know not quite what she hasheard of him, but so it is."

  "I was fearful lest she should not be willing to spare thee,Dorcas," said Gertrude with a caress, "but here thou art with therest."

  "Yes, she was wondrous good to us," said Janet eagerly, "else Iscarce know how we could have come, for there were six childrenleft in the house, and no homes yet found for them to go to. Theywere the sickly ones whom we feared to part with, and father saidthey would strive to get places for them in the country. When weheard what our kind aunt wished, we saw not how we could leave thelittle ones; but Lady Scrope, she up and chid us well for silly,puling fools, who thought the world could not wag without our help.And then she sent out and got two nice, comfortable, honest widowwomen to live in the house with the children. And one of them had aneat-fingered daughter, who had been in good service till theplague sent her family into the country and she was packed offhome. Her she took for her maid, and sent Dorcas off with us. Sure,never was a sharper tongue and a kinder heart in one body together!I had never thought to like Lady Scrope one-tenth part as well as Ido."

  Those were happy days that followed. It was pure delight to thesisters to wander about the green fields and lanes, watching theplay of light and shadow there, hearing the songs of the birds, andseeing the gorgeous pageantry of autumn clothing the trees with allmanner of wondrous tints and hues. Reuben knew the neighbourhood bythat time, and was their companion in their rambles; and happy werethe hours thus spent, only less happy than the meetings round theglowing hearth or hospitable table later on, when the news of theday would be told and retold.

  James Harmer went frequently into the city to see after certainthings, and to ascertain that his own and his neighbour's houseswere safe. What he saw and heard there day by day made himincreasingly glad that big family had found so safe a retreat; forthere was still some considerable peril to the dwellers in thecity, owing, more than anything, to the utter carelessness of thepeople now that the immediate scare was removed.

  The same men who had shrunk away from all contact with even soundpersons six weeks ago, would now actually visit and hold conversewith those who had the disease upon them. Persons afflicted withtumours that were still active and therefore infectious would walkopenly about the streets, none seeming to object to their presenceeven in crowded thoroughfares. It seemed as though joy at theabatement of the pestilence had wrought a sort of madness in thebrains and hearts of the people. So long as the death ratedecreased, and the cases were no longer so fatal in character,there seemed no way of making the citizens observe properprecautions, and, as many averred, the malady increased and spread,although not in nearly so fatal a form, as it never need have donebut for the recklessness of the multitudes.

  One very sorrowful case was brought home to the Harmers, because ithappened to some worthy neighbours of their own who had livedopposite to them for many a year.

  When first the alarm was given that the plague had entered withinthe city walls, this man had hastily decided to quit London withhis wife and family and seek an asylum in the country, and hadearnestly urged the Harmers to do the same. For many months nothinghad been heard of them; but with the first abatement of the maladythe father had appeared, and had asked advice from Harmer as to howsoon he might bring home his family, who were all sound and well.His friend advised him to wait another month at least; but helaughed such counsel to scorn, and just before the Harmersthemselves started for Islington, their friends had settledthemselves in their old house opposite.

  Ten days later Harmer heard with great dismay that three of thechildren had taken the plague and had died. By the end of the weekthere was not one of the family alive save the unhappy man himself,and he went about like one distraught, so that his reason or hislife seemed like to pay the forfeit.

  It was no wonder, in the hearing of such stories as these--of whichthere were many--that Mary Harmer rejoiced to have her brother'shousehold safely housed and out of danger, and that she earnestlybegged them to remain with her at least until the merryChristmastide should be overpast.