Gertrude Mason sat in the topmost attic of the house, leaning out
at the open window, and drinking in, as it were, great draughts of
fresh air, as she watched the lights beginning to sparkle from
either side of the river, and the darkening volume of water
slipping silently beneath.
This attic was Gertrude's haven of refuge at this dread season,
when almost every other window in the house was shuttered and
close-curtained; when she was kept like a prisoner within the walls
of the house, and half smothered and suffocated by the fumes of the
fires which her mother insisted on burning, let the weather be ever
so hot, as a preventive against the terrible infection which was
spreading with fearful rapidity throughout all London.
But Madam Mason's feet never climbed these steep ladder-like stairs
up to this eyrie, which all her life had been dear to Gertrude. In
her childhood it had been her playroom. As she grew older, she had
gradually gathered about her in this place numbers of childish and
girlish treasures. Her father bestowed gifts upon her at various
times. She had clever fingers of her own, and specimens of her
needlework and her painting adorned the walls. At such times as the
fastidious mistress of the house condemned various articles of
furniture as too antiquated for her taste, Gertrude would get them
secretly conveyed up here; so that her lofty bower was neither bare
nor cheerless, but, on the contrary, rather crowded with furniture
and knick-knacks of all sorts. She kept her possessions
scrupulously clean, lavishing upon them much tender care, and much
of that active service in manual labour which she found no scope
for elsewhere. Her happiest hours were spent up in this lonely
attic, far removed from the sound of her mother's plaints or her
brother's ribald and too often profane jesting. Here she kept her
books, her lute, and her songbirds; and the key of her retreat hung
always at her girdle, and was placed at night beneath her pillow.
This evening she had been hastily dismissed from her father's
presence, he having come in with agitated face, and bidden her
instantly take herself away whilst he spoke with her mother. She
had obeyed at once, without pausing to ask the questions which
trembled on her lips. That something of ill had befallen she could
not doubt; but at least her father was safe, and she must wait with
what patience she could for the explanation of her sudden
dismissal.
She knew from her brother's reports that already infected houses
were shut up, and none permitted to go forth. But so straitly had
she herself been of late imprisoned within doors, that she felt it
would make but little difference were she to hear that a watchman
guarded the door, and that the fatal red cross had been painted
upon it.
"Our neighbours are not fearful as we are. They go to and fro in
the streets. They seek to do what they can for the relief of the
sick. My father daily speaks of their courage and faith. Why may
not I do likewise? I would fain tend the sick, even though my life
should be the forfeit. We can but live once and die once. Far
sooner would I spend a short life of usefulness to my fellow men,
than linger out a long and worthless existence in the pursuit of
idle pleasures. It does not bring happiness. Ah! how little
pleasure does it bring!"
Gertrude spoke half aloud and with some bitterness, albeit she
strove to be patient with the foibles of her mother, and to think
kindly of her, her many faults notwithstanding. But the terror of
these days was taking with her a very different form from what it
did with Madam Mason. It was inflaming within her a great desire to
be up and doing in this stricken city, where the fell disease was
walking to and fro and striking down its victims by hundreds and
thousands. Other women, in all lands and of all shades of belief,
had been found to come forward at seasons of like peril, and devote
themselves fearlessly to the care of the sick. Why might not she
make one of this band? What though it should cost her her life?
Life was not so precious a thing to her that she should set all
else aside to preserve it!
She was awakened from her fit of musing by an unwonted sound--a
hollow tapping, tapping, tapping, which seemed to come from a
corner of the attic where the shadows gathered most dun and dark.
The girl drew in her head from the window with a startled
expression on her face, and was then more than ever aware of the
strange sound which caused a slight thrill to run through her
frame.
What could it be? There was no other room in their house from which
the sound could proceed. She was not devoid of the superstitious
feelings of the age, and had heard before of ghostly tappings that
were said to be a harbinger of coming death or misfortune.
Tap! tap! tap! The sound continued with a ceaseless regularity, and
then came other strange sounds of wrenching and tearing. These were
perhaps not quite so ghostly, but equally alarming. What could it
be? Who and what could be behind that wall? Gertrude had heard
stories of ghastly robberies, committed during these past days in
plague-stricken houses, which were entered by worthless vagabonds,
when all within were dead or helpless, and from which vantage
ground they had gained access into other houses, and had sometimes
brought the dread infection with them.
Gertrude was by nature courageous, and she had always made it a
point of duty not to add to her mother's alarms by permitting
herself to fall a victim to nervous terrors. Frightened though she
undoubtedly was, therefore, she did not follow the impulse of her
fear and run below to summon her father, who was, she suspected,
bent on some serious work of his own; but she stood very still and
quiet, pressing her hands over her beating heart, resolved if
possible to discover the mystery for herself before giving any
alarm.
All at once the sounds grew louder; something seemed to give way,
and she saw a hand, a man's hand, pushed through some small
aperture. At that she uttered a little cry.
"Who is there?" she cried, in a shaking voice; and immediately the
hand was withdrawn, whilst a familiar and most reassuring voice
made answer:
"Is anybody there? I beg ten thousand pardons. I had thought the
attic would be hare and empty."
"Reuben!" cried Gertrude, springing forward towards the small
aperture in the wall. "Oh, what is it? Is it indeed thou? And what
art thou doing to the wall?"
"Gertrude! is that thy voice indeed? Nay, now, this is a good hap.
Sweet Mistress Gertrude, have I thy permission to open once again
betwixt thy home and mine that door which as children thy brother
and we did contrive, but which was presently sealed up, though not
over-strongly?"
"Ah, the door!" cried Gertrude, coming forward to the place and
feeling with her hands at the laths and woodwork; "I had forgot,
but it comes to me again. Yes, truly there was a rude door once.
Oh, open it quickly! I will get thee a light and hold it. Dost thou
know, Reuben, what has befallen to make my father look as he did
but now? I trow it is something evil. My heart is heavy within me."
"Ay, I know," answered Reuben; "I will tell thee anon, sweet
mistress, if thou wilt let me into thy presence."
"Nay, call me not mistress," said Gertrude, with a little accent of
reproach in her voice. "Have we not played as brother and sister
together, and do not times like this draw closer the bonds of
friendship? Thou canst not know how lonesome and dreary my life has
been of late. I pine for a voice from the world without. Thou wilt
indeed be welcome, good Reuben."
Gertrude was busying herself with the tedious preparations for
obtaining a light, and being skilful by long practice, she soon had
a lamp burning in the room; and in a few minutes more, by the
diligent use of hammer and chisel, Reuben forced open the little
rough door which long ago had been contrived between the boys of
the two households, and which had not been done away with
altogether, although it had been securely fastened up by the orders
of Madam Mason when she found her son Frederick taking too great
advantage of this extra means of egress from the house, though she
had other motives than the one alleged for the checking of the
great intimacy which was growing up between her children and those
of her neighbour.
The door once opened, Reuben quickly stood within the attic, and
looked around him with wondering and admiring eyes.
"Nay, but it is a very bower of beauty!" he cried, and then he came
forward almost timidly and took Gertrude by the hand, looking down
at her with eyes that spoke eloquently.
"Is this thy nest, thou pretty songbird?" he said. "Had I known, I
should scarce have dared to invade it so boldly."
Gertrude clung to him with an involuntary appeal for protection
that stirred all the manhood within him.
"Ah, Reuben, tell me what it all means!" she cried, "for methinks
that something terrible has happened."
Still holding the little trembling hand in his, Reuben told her of
the peril her brother had been in. He spoke not of Dorcas, not
desiring to pain her more than need be, but he had to say that her
brother was, in a half-drunken state, pursuing some maiden in idle
sport, and that, having been so exposed to contagion, there was
great fear now for him and for his life.
Gertrude listened with pale lips and dilating eyes; her quick
apprehension filled up more of the details than Reuben desired.
"It was Dorcas he was pursuing," she cried, recoiling and putting
up her hands to her face; "I know it! I know it! O wretched boy!
why does he cover us with shame like this? I marvel that thou canst
look kindly upon me, Reuben. Am I not his most unhappy sister?"
"Thou art the sweetest, purest maiden my eyes ever beheld,"
answered Reuben, his words seeming to leap from his lips against
his own will. Then commanding himself, he added more quietly, "But
he is like to be punished for his sins, and it may be the lesson
learned will be of use to him all his life. It will be a marvel if
he escapes the distemper, having been so exposed, and that whilst
inflamed by drink, which, so far as I may judge, enfeebles the
tissues, and causes a man to fall a victim far quicker than if he
had been sober, and a temperate liver."
"My poor brother!" cried Gertrude, beneath her breath. "Oh, what
has my father done with him? What will become of him?"
"Your father brought him hither at once--not within the house, but
into one of his old offices where in past times his goods were wont
to be stored. He has now gone to consult with your mother whether
or not the poor lad should be admitted within the house or not. If
your mother will not have him here, he will remain for a while
where he is; and if he falls sick, he will be removed to the pest
house."
"Oh no! no! no!" cried Gertrude vehemently, "not whilst he has a
sister to nurse him--a roof, however humble, to shelter him. Let
him not die amongst strangers! I fear not the infection. I will go
to him this minute. Already I have thought it were better to die of
the plague, doing one's duty towards the sick and suffering, than
to keep shut up away from all. They shall not take him away to die
amidst those scenes of horror of which one has heard. Even my
mother will be brave, methinks, for Frederick's sake. I trow she
will open her doors to him."
"That is what your father thinks. It may be that even now he is
bringing him within. But, sweet mistress, if Frederick comes here,
it may well be that in another week this house will be straitly
shut up, with the red cross upon the door, and the watchman before
the portal day and night. That is why I have come hither at once,
to open the little door between our houses; for I cannot bear the
thought of knowing naught that befalls you for a whole long month.
And since, though my work takes me daily into what men call the
peril of infection, I am sound and bring no hurt to others, I am
not afraid that I shall bring hurt to thee. I could not bear to
have no tidings of how it fared with thee. Thou wilt not chide me
for making this provision. It came into my head so soon as I knew
that peril of infection was like to come within these walls. We
must not let thee be shut quite away from us. We may be able to
give thee help, and in times of peril neighbours must play a
neighbourly part."
The tears stood in Gertrude's eyes. She was thinking of the
unkindly fashion in which her mother had spoken of late years of
these neighbours, and contrasting with that the way in which they
were now coming forward to claim the neighbour's right to help in
time of threatened trouble. The tears were very near her eyes as
she made answer:
"O Reuben, how good thou art! But if our house be infected, how can
it be possible for thee to come and go? Would it not be a wrong
against those who lay down these laws for the preservation of the
city?"
Then Reuben explained to her that, though the magistrates and
aldermen were forced to draw up a strict code for the ordering of
houses where infection was, these same personages themselves,
together with doctors, examiners, and searchers of houses, had
perforce to go from place to place; yet by using all needful and
wise precautions, both for themselves and others, they had
reasonable hope of doing nothing to spread the contagion. Reuben,
as a searcher under his father, had again and again been in
infected houses, and brought face to face with persons dying of the
malady; yet so far he had escaped, and by adopting the wise
precautions ordered at the outset by their father, no case of
illness had appeared so far amongst them. If every person who could
be of use excluded himself from all chance of contagion, there
would be none to order the affairs of the unhappy city, or to carry
relief to the sufferers. There must be perforce some amongst them
who were ready to run the risk in order to assist the sufferers,
and they of the household of James Harmer were all of one mind in
this.
"We do naught that is rash. We have herbs and drugs and all those
things which the doctors think to be of use; and thou shalt have a
supply of all such anon--if indeed thy mother be not already amply
provided. But I cannot bear for thee to be straitly shut up; I must
be able to see how it goes with thee. And should it be that thou
wert thyself a victim, thou shalt not lack the best nursing that
all London can give."
She looked up at him with fearless eyes.
"Do men ever recover when once attacked by the plague?"
"Yes, many do--though nothing like the number who die. Amongst our
nurses and bearers of the dead are numbers who have had the
distemper and have survived it. They go by the name of the 'safe
people.' Yet some have been known to take it again, though I think
these cases are rare."
"If Frederick takes it, will he be like to live?" asked Gertrude;
and Reuben was silent.
Both knew that the unhappy young man had long been given to
drunkenness and debauchery, and that his constitution was
undermined by his excesses. The girl pressed her hands together and
was silent; but after a few moments' pause she looked up at Reuben,
and said, "You have given me courage by this visit. Come again
soon. I must to my mother now. I must ask her what I can do to help
her and my unhappy brother."
"Take this paper and this packet before you go," said Reuben. "The
one contains directions for the better lodging and tending of the
sick. The other contains prepared herbs which are useful as
preventives--tormentil, valerian, zedoary, angelica, and so forth;
but I take it that pure vinegar is as good an antidote to infection
as anything one can find. Keep some always about you. Let your
kerchief be always steeped in it. Then be of a cheerful courage,
and take food regularly, and in sufficient quantities. All these
things help to keep the body in health; and though the most healthy
may fall victims, yet methinks that it is those who are underfed or
weakened by disease or dissipation upon whom the malady fastens
with most virulent strength. I will come anon and learn what is
betiding. Farewell for the nonce, sweet mistress, and may God be
with you."
Greatly cheered and strengthened by this unexpected interview,
Gertrude descended to the lower part of the house in search of her
mother, and found her, with her face tied up in a cloth soaked in
vinegar, bending over the unhappy Frederick, who lay with a face as
white as death upon a couch in one of the lower rooms.
To her credit be it said, the motherhood in the Master Builder's
wife had triumphed over her natural terror at the thought of the
infection. When her husband had brought her the news that Frederick
was in one of the old shop buildings, awaiting her permission
(after what had occurred) to enter the house; when she knew that
should he sicken of the plague he would be taken away to the pest
house to be tended there, and as she believed assuredly to die, she
burst into wild weeping, and declared that she would risk
everything sooner than that should happen. So it had been speedily
arranged that the unhappy youth should be provided with a vinegar
and herb bath and a complete change of raiment out there in the
disused shop, and that then he should come into the house, his
mother being willing to take the risk rather than banish him from
home.
This had been quickly done, under the direction of good James
Harmer, who as one of the examiners of health was well qualified to
give counsel in the matter. He also told his neighbour that should
the young man be attacked by the plague, he would strive if
possible to gain for him the services of his sister-in-law, Dinah
Morse, who was one of the most tender and skilful nurses now
working amongst the sick. She was always busy; but so fell was the
action of the plague poison, that her patients died daily, despite
her utmost care, and she was constantly moving from house to house,
sometimes leaving none alive behind her in a whole domicile. A
certain number recovered, and these she made shift to visit daily
for a while; but her main work lay amongst the dying, whose friends
too often left them in terror so soon as the fatal marks appeared
which bespoke them sickening of the terrible distemper.
The Master Builder received this promise with gratitude, having
heard gruesome stories of the evil practices of many of those who
called themselves plague nurses, but who really sought their own
gain, and often left the patient alone and untended in his agony,
whilst they coolly ransacked the house from which the other inmates
had often contrived to flee before it was shut up.
Frederick, utterly unnerved and overcome by the horror of the thing
which had befallen him, looked already almost like one stricken to
death. His mother was striving to get him to swallow some of the
medicines which were considered as valuable antidotes, and to sip
at a cup of so-called plague water--a rather costly preparation
much in vogue amongst the wealthier citizens at that time. But the
nausea of the horrible smell of the plague patient was still upon
him, sickening him to the refusal of all medicine or food, and to
Gertrude's eyes he looked as though he might well be smitten
already.
Her father was the only person who had eyes to notice her approach,
and he strode forward and took her by the hands as though to keep
her away.
"Child, thou must not come here. Thy brother has been in a terrible
danger--half strangled by a creature raving in the delirium of the
distemper. It may be death to approach him even now. I would have
had thy mother keep away. Come not thou near to him. Let us not
increase the peril which besets us."
Gertrude stood quite still, neither resisting her father, nor yet
yielding to the pressure which would have forced her from the room.
"Dear sir," she said, with dutiful reverence, "I must fain submit
to thee in this thing. Yet I prithee keep me not from my brother in
the hour of his extremity. Methinks that a more terrible thing than
the plague itself is the cruel fear which it inspires, whereby
families are rent asunder, and the sick are neglected and deserted
in the hour of their utmost need. If indeed Frederick should fall a
victim, this house will be straitly shut up; and if it be true what
men say, the infection will spread through it, do what we will to
keep it away. Then what can it matter whether the risk be a little
more or less? Is it not better that I should be with my mother and
my brother, than that I should seek my own safety by shutting
myself up apart from all, a readier prey to grief and terror?
Methinks I should the sooner fall ill thus shut away from all.
Prithee let me take my place beside Frederick, and relieve my
mother when she be weary; so do I think it will be best for me and
her."
The father's face quivered with emotion as he took his daughter in
his arms and kissed her tenderly.
"Thou shalt do as thou wilt, my sweet child," he said. "These
indeed are fearful days, and it may be that happier are they who
let their heart be ruled by love instead of by fear. Fear has
become a cruel thing, from what men tell us. Thou shalt do thy
desire. Yet methinks thy brother has scarce deserved this grace at
thy hands."
"Let us not think of that," said Gertrude, with a look of pain in
her eyes; "let us only think of his peril, and of the terrible
retribution which may fall upon him. God grant that he may find
repentance and peace at the last!"
"Amen!" said the Master Builder, with some solemnity, thinking of
the fashion in which his son's time had been spent of late, and of
the very escapade which had brought this evil upon him.
All that night mother and sister watched beside the bed of the
unhappy young man, who moaned and tossed, and too often broke into
blasphemous railings at the fate which had overtaken him. He gave
himself up for lost from the first, and having no hope or real
belief as regards the future life, was full of darkness and
bitterness of heart. He would not so much as listen when Gertrude
would have spoken to him of the Saviour's love for sinners, but
answered with mocking and profane words which made her heart die
within her.
Towards morning he fell into a restless sleep, from which he
wakened in a high fever, not knowing any of those about him. The
father coming in, went towards him with a strange look in his eyes,
and after bending over him a few seconds, turned a haggard face
towards his wife and daughter, saying:
"May the Lord have mercy upon us! he has the tokens upon him!"
Instantly the mother uttered a scream of lamentation, and fell half
senseless into her husband's arms; whilst Gertrude stood suddenly
up with a white face and said:
"Let me take word to our neighbours next door. Master Harmer is an
examiner. We must needs report it to him; and they will tell us
what we must do, and give us help if any can."
"Ay, that they will," answered the Master Builder, with some
emotion in his voice. "Go, girl, and report that the distemper has
broken out in the house, and that we submit ourselves to the orders
of the authorities for all such as be infected."
Gertrude sped upstairs. She preferred that method of transit to the
one by the street door. But she had no need to go further than her
attic; for upon opening the door she saw two figures in the room,
and instantly recognized Reuben and his sister Janet. The latter
came forward with outstretched hands, and would have taken Gertrude
into her embrace, but that she drew back and said in a voice of
warning:
"Take heed, Janet; touch me not. I have passed the night by the
bedside of my brother, and he is stricken with the plague!"
"So soon?" quoth Reuben, quickly; whilst Janet would not be denied
her embrace, saying softly:
"I have no longer a fear of that distemper myself, for I have been
with it erstwhile, and my aunt Dinah tells me that I have had a
very mild attack of the same ill, and that I am not like to take it
again."
"If indeed Frederick is smitten, we must take precautions to close
the house," said Reuben. "Is there aught you would wish to do ere
giving the notice to my father?"
"Nay, I was on my way to him," said Gertrude, speaking with the
calmness of one upon whom the expected blow has at last fallen.
"Let what must be done be done quickly. Can we have a nurse? for
methinks Frederick must needs have tendance more skilled than any
we can give him. But let it not be one of those women"--Gertrude
paused and shuddered, as though she knew not how to finish her
sentence.
"Trust me to do all for you that lies in my power," answered
Reuben, in a voice of emotion; "and never feel shut up altogether
from the world; even when the outer door be locked and guarded by a
watchman. I have already hung a bell within our house, and the cord
is tied here upon this nail. In any time of need you have but to
ring it, and be sure that the summons will be speedily answered."
A mist rose before Gertrude's eyes and a lump in her throat. She
pressed Janet's hand, and said to Reuben in a husky voice:
"I have no words today. Some day I will find how to thank you for
all this goodness at such a time."
Before many hours had passed Dinah Morse was installed beside the
sick man. Strong perfumes were burnt in and about his room, and the
terrible tumours which bespoke the poison in his blood were treated
skilfully by poultices and medicaments, applied by one who
thoroughly understood the nature of the disease and the course it
ran.
But from the first it was apparent to a trained eye that the young
man was doomed. There was too much poison in his blood before, and
his constitution was undermined by his reckless and dissolute life.
All that was possible was done to relieve the sufferings and abate
the fever of the patient. One of the best and most devoted of the
doctors who remained courageously at his post during this terrible
time was called in. But he shook his head over the patient, and bid
his parents make up their minds for the worst.
"You have the best nurse in all London," said Dr. Hooker. "If skill
and care could save him, he would be saved. But I fear me the
poison has spread all over. Be cautious how you approach him, for
he breathes forth death to those who are not inoculated. I would I
could do more for you, but our skill avails little before this
dread scourge."
And so, with looks and words of friendly compassion and goodwill,
the doctor took his departure; and before nightfall Frederick was
called to his last account.
Just as the hour of midnight tolled, a sound of wheels was heard in
the street below, a bell rang, and a lugubrious voice called out:
"Bring forth your dead! bring forth your dead!"
Directed by Reuben, who was on the alert, the bearers themselves
entered the house and removed the body, wrapped in its linen
swathings, but without a coffin, for by this time there was not
such a thing to be had for love or money; nor could the carts have
contained their loads had each corpse been coffined.
Gertrude alone, from an upper window, saw the body of her brother
laid decently and reverently, under Reuben's direction, in the
ominous-looking vehicle. For the mother of the dead youth was
weeping her heart out in her husband's arms, and was not allowed to
know at what hour nor in what manner her son's body was conveyed
away.
"Will they fling him, with never a prayer, into some great pit such
as I have heard spoken of?" asked Gertrude of Dinah, who stood
beside her at the window, fearful lest she should be overwhelmed by
the horror of it all.
She now drew her gently and tenderly back into the room, whilst the
cart rumbled away upon its mournful errand, and smoothing the
tresses of the girl, and drawing her to rest upon a couch hard by,
she answered:
"Think not of that, dear child. For what does it matter what
befalls the frail mortal body? With whatsoever burial we may be
buried now, we shall rise again at the last day in glory and
immortality! That is what we must think of in these sorrowful
times. We must lift our hearts above the things of this world, and
let our conversation and citizenship be in heaven."
Then the tears gushed out from Gertrude's eyes, and she wept freely
and fully the healing tears of youth.