CHAPTER XVI
FATHER AND SON
The process of fumigation had well-nigh suffocated the wife anddaughter of the trader, but, as soon as the smoke cleared away, Cyrilset them all to work to carry up articles of furniture to anotherbedroom on the top floor.
"When your daughter is released from nursing, madam," he said, "shemust at once come into this room, and remain there secluded for a fewdays. Therefore, it will be well to make it as comfortable aspossible for her. Her food must be taken up and put outside the door,so that she can take it in there without any of you going near her."
The occupation was a useful one, as it distracted the thoughts ofthose engaged in it from the sick room.
Cyril did not enter there. He had told the girl to call him shouldthere be any necessity, but said,--
"Do not call me unless absolutely needful, if, for instance, hebecomes violent, in which case we must fasten the sheets across himso as to restrain him. But it is of no use your remaining shut upthere if I go in and out of the room to carry the infection to theothers."
"You have hurt your arm, doctor?" the mother said, when thearrangements were all made, and they had returned to the room below.
"Yes," he said; "I met with an accident, and must, for a short time,keep my arm in a sling."
"You look young, sir, to be running these fearful perils."
"I am young," Cyril said, "and have not yet completed all my studies;but Dr. Hodges judged that I was sufficiently advanced to be able tobe of service to him, not so much in prescribing as by seeing thathis orders were carried out."
Every half hour he went upstairs, and inquired, through the door, asto the state of the boy.
Late in the afternoon he heard the girl crying bitterly within. Heknocked, and she cried out,--
"He is dead, sir; he has just expired."
"Then you must think of yourself and the others," he said. "The smallpacket I placed on the chair contains sulphur. Close the window, thenplace the packet on the fire, and leave the room at once and go intothe next room, which is all ready for you. There, I pray you,undress, and sponge yourself with vinegar, then make your clothesinto a bundle and put them outside the door. There will be a bowl ofhot broth in readiness for you there; drink that, and then go to bedat once, and keep the blankets over you and try to sleep."
He went part of the way downstairs, and, in a minute or two, heard adoor open and shut, then another door shut. Knowing that the orderhad been carried out, he went downstairs.
"Madam," he said, "God has taken your boy. The doctor had but littlehope for him. For the sake of yourself and those around you, I prayyou all to bear up against the sorrow."
The mother burst into tears, and, leaving her with her husband anddaughter, Cyril went into the kitchen, where the maid and anapprentice were sitting with pale faces, and bade the servant at oncewarm up the broth, that had already been prepared. As soon as it wasready, he carried a basin upstairs. The bundle of clothes had alreadybeen placed outside the girl's room. He took this down and put it onthe kitchen fire.
"Now," he said, "take four basins up to the parlour, and do you andthe boy each make a hearty meal. I think there is little fear of thePlague spreading, and your best chance of avoiding it is by keepingup your spirits and not fretting about it."
As soon as the broth had been taken into the parlour, he went in andpersuaded them to eat and to take a glass of wine with it, while hehimself sat down with them.
"You are all weak," he said, "for, doubtless, you have eaten nothingto-day, and you need strength as well as courage. I trust that yourdaughter will presently go off into a sound sleep. The last thingbefore you go to bed, take up with you a basin of good posset with aglass of wine in it; knock gently at her door; if she is awake, tellher to come out and take it in as soon as you have gone, but if shedoes not reply, do not rouse her. I can be of no further useto-night, but will return in the morning, when I hope to find all iswell."
The father accompanied him to the door.
"You will of course bring the poor boy down to-night. It were bestthat you made some excuse to sleep in another room. Let your daughtersleep with her mother. When you go in to fetch him, be careful thatyou do not enter at once, for the fumes of the sulphur will scarcelyhave abated. As you go in, place a wet handkerchief to your mouth,and make to the window and throw it open, closing the door behindyou. Sit at the window till the air is tolerable, then wrap theblankets round him and carry him downstairs when you hear the bell.After he has gone tell the servant to have a brazier lighted, and tokeep up the kitchen fire. As soon as he is gone, burn on the brazierat the foot of the stairs, tobacco and spices, as we did before; thentake off your clothes and burn them on the kitchen fire, and then goup to bed. You can leave the doors and windows of the rooms that arenot in use open, so that the smoke may escape."
"God bless you, sir!" the man said. "You have been a comfort indeedto us, and I have good hopes that the Plague will spread no furtheramong us."
Cyril went first to the doctor's, and reported what had taken place.
"I will go round in the morning and see how they are," he concluded,"and bring you round word before you start on your rounds."
"You have done very well indeed," the doctor said. "If peopleeverywhere would be as calm, and obey orders as well as those youhave been with, I should have good hopes that we might check thespread of the Plague; but you will find that they are quite theexception."
This, indeed, proved to be the case. In many instances, the peoplewere so distracted with grief and fear that they ran about the houselike mad persons, crying and screaming, running in and out of thesick chamber, or sitting there crying helplessly, and refusing toleave the body until it was carried out to the dead-cart. But withsuch cases Cyril had nothing to do, as the doctor would only send himto the houses where he saw that his instructions would be carriedout.
To his great satisfaction, Cyril found that the precautions taken inthe first case proved successful. Regularly, every morning, heinquired at the door, and received the answer, "All are well."
In August the Plague greatly increased in violence, the deaths risingto ten thousand a week. A dull despair had now seized the population.It seemed that all were to be swept away. Many went out of theirminds. The quacks no longer drove a flourishing trade in theirpretended nostrums; these were now utterly discredited, for nothingseemed of the slightest avail. Some went to the opposite extreme, andaffected to defy fate. The taverns were filled again, and boisterousshouts and songs seemed to mock the dismal cries from the houses withthe red cross on the door. Robberies were rife. Regardless of thedanger of the pest, robbers broke into the houses where all theinmates had perished by the Plague, and rifled them of theirvaluables. The nurses plundered the dying. All natural affectionseemed at an end.
Those stricken were often deserted by all their relatives, and leftalone to perish.
Bands of reckless young fellows went through the streets singing,and, dressing up in masks, performed the dance of death. The deadwere too many to be carried away in carts at night to the great pitsprepared for them, but the dismal tones of the bell, and the cries of"Bring out your dead!" sounded in the streets all day. It was nolonger possible to watch the whole of the infected houses. SometimesPlague-stricken men would escape from their beds and run through thestreets until they dropped dead. One such man, in the height of hisdelirium, sprang into the river, and, after swimming about for sometime, returned to the shore, marvellously cured of his malady by theshock.
Cyril went occasionally in the evening to the lodgings of Mr.Wallace. At first he met several people gathered there, but thenumber became fewer every time he went. He had told the minister thathe thought that it would be better for him to stay away, exposed ashe was to infection, but Mr. Wallace would take no excuses on thisscore.
"We are all in the hands of God," he said. "The streets are full ofinfected people, and I myself frequently go to pray with my friendsin the earliest stages of the malady. There
is no longer any use inprecautions. We can but all go on doing our duty until we are calledaway, and even among the few who gather here of an evening there maybe one or more who are already smitten, though unconscious yet thattheir summons has come."
Among others Cyril was introduced to a Mr. and Mrs. Harvey, who were,the minister told him, from the country, but were staying in town onaccount of a painful family business.
"I have tried to persuade them to return home and to stay there untilthe Plague ceases, but they conceive it their duty to remain. Theyare, like myself, Independents, and are not easily to be turned froma resolution they have taken."
Cyril could easily understand that Mr. Harvey was exactly what he,from the description he had heard of them, had pictured to himselfthat a Roundhead soldier would be. He had a stern face, eyes deeplysunk in his head, high cheekbones, a firm mouth, and a square jaw. Hewore his hair cut close. His figure was bony, and he must, as a youngman, have been very powerful. He spoke in a slow, deliberate way,that struck Cyril as being the result of long effort, for a certainrestless action of the fingers and the quick movement of the eye,told of a naturally impulsive and fiery disposition. He constantlyused scriptural texts in the course of his speech. His wife wasgentle and quiet, but it was evident that there was a very strongsympathy between them, and Cyril found, after meeting them once ortwice, that he liked them far better than he thought he should do ontheir first introduction. This was, no doubt, partly due to the factthat Mr. Harvey frequently entered into conversation with him, andappeared to interest himself in him. He was, too, a type that wasaltogether new to the lad. From his father, and his father'scompanions, he had heard nothing good of the Puritans, but theevident earnestness of this man's nature was, to some extent, inaccordance with his own disposition, and he felt that, widely as hemight differ from him on all points of politics, he could not butrespect him. The evenings were pleasant. As if by common consent, theconversation never turned on the Plague, but they talked of otherpassing events, of the trials of their friends, and of the laws thatwere being put in force against Nonconformists.
"What think you of these persecutions, young sir?" Mr. Harveyabruptly asked Cyril, one evening, breaking off in the midst of ageneral conversation.
Cyril was a little confused at the unexpected question.
"I think all persecutions for conscience' sake are wrong," he said,after a moment's pause, "and generally recoil upon the persecutors.Spain lost Holland owing to her persecution of the people. Francelost great numbers of her best citizens by her laws against theProtestants. I agree with you thoroughly, that the persecution of theNonconformists at present is a grievous error, and a cruel injustice;but, at the same time, if you will excuse my saying so, it is thenatural consequence of the persecution by the Nonconformists, whenthey were in power, of the ministers of the Church of England. Mytutor in France was an English clergyman, who had been driven fromhis living, like thousands of other ministers, because he would notgive up his opinions. Therefore, you see, I very early was imbuedwith a hatred of persecution in any form. I trust that I have notspoken too boldly; but you asked for my opinion, and I was forced togive it."
"At any rate, young sir, you have spoken manfully, and I like younone the worse for it. Nor can I altogether gainsay your words. Butyou must remember that we had before been oppressed, and that we havebeen engaged in a desperate struggle for liberty of conscience."
"Which, having won for ourselves, we proceeded to deny to others,"Mr. Wallace said, with a smile. "Cyril has us fairly, Mr. Harvey. Weare reaping what our fathers sowed. They thought that the power theyhad gained was to be theirs to hold always, and they used ittyrannously, being thereby false to all their principles. It is everthe persecuted, when he attains power, who becomes the persecutor,and, hard as is the pressure of the laws now, we should never forgetthat we have, in our time, been persecutors, and that in defiance ofthe rights of conscience we had fought to achieve. Man's nature is, Ifear, unchangeable. The slave longs, above all things, for freedom,but when he rises successfully against his master he, in turn,becomes a tyrant, and not infrequently a cruel and bloodthirsty one.Still, we must hope. It may be in the good days that are to come, wemay reach a point when each will be free to worship in his ownfashion, without any fear or hindrance, recognising the fact thateach has a right to follow his own path to Heaven, without its beinga subject of offence to those who walk in other ways."
One or two of the other visitors were on the point of speaking, whenMr. Wallace put a stop to further argument by fetching a Bible fromhis closet, and preparing for the short service of prayer with whichthe evening always closed.
One evening, Mr. Harvey and his wife were absent from the usualgathering.
"I feel anxious about them," Mr. Wallace said; "they have never,since they arrived in town, missed coming here at seven o'clock. Thebells are usually striking the hour as they come. I fear that one orother of them may have been seized by the Plague."
"With your permission, sir, I will run round and see," Cyril said. "Iknow their lodging, for I have accompanied them to the door severaltimes. It is but five minutes' walk from here. If one or other is illI will run round to Dr. Hodges, and I am sure, at my request, he willgo round at once to see them."
Cyril walked fast towards the lodging occupied by the Harveys. It wasat the house of a mercer, but he and his family had, three weeksbefore, gone away, having gladly permitted his lodgers to remain, astheir presence acted as a guard to the house. They had brought up anold servant with them, and were therefore able to dispense with otherattendants. Cyril hurried along, trying, as usual, to pay as littleheed as he could to the doleful cries that arose from many of thehouses. Although it was still broad daylight there was scarce a soulin the streets, and those he met were, like himself, walking fast,keeping as far as possible from any one they met, so as to avoidcontact.
As he neared the house he heard a woman scream. A moment later acasement was thrown open, and Mrs. Harvey's head appeared. She gaveanother piercing cry for help, and was then suddenly dragged back,and the casement was violently closed. Cyril had so frequently heardsimilar cries that he would have paid no attention to it had it comefrom a stranger, but he felt that Mrs. Harvey was not one to give wayto wild despair, even had her husband been suddenly attacked with thePlague. Her sudden disappearance, and the closing of the casement,too, were unaccountable, unless, indeed, her husband were in a stateof violent delirium. He ran to the door and flung himself against it.
"Help me to force it down," he cried to a man who was passing.
"You are mad," the man replied. "Do you not see that they have gotthe Plague? You may hear hundreds of such cries every day."
Cyril drew his sword, which he always carried when he went out of anevening--for, owing to the deaths among the City watch, deeds oflawlessness and violence were constantly perpetrated--and struck,with all his strength, with the hilt upon the fastening of thecasement next the door. Several of the small panes of glass fell in,and the whole window shook. Again and again he struck upon the samespot, when the fastening gave way, and the window flew open. Hesprang in at once, ran through the shop into the passage, and thenupstairs. The door was open, and he nearly fell over the body of aman. As he ran into the room he heard the words,--
"For the last time: Will you sign the deed? You think I will not dothis, but I am desperate."
As the words left his mouth, Cyril sprang forward between the man andMr. Harvey, who was standing with his arms folded, lookingsteadfastly at his opponent, who was menacing him with a drawn sword.The man, with a terrible oath, turned to defend himself, repeatingthe oath when he saw who was his assailant.
"I let you off last time lightly, you scoundrel!" Cyril exclaimed."This time it is your life or mine."
The man made a furious lunge at him. Cyril parried it, and would atthe next moment have run him through had not Mr. Harvey suddenlythrown himself between them, hurling Cyril's antagonist to theground.
"Put up your sword," he
said to Cyril. "This man is my son; scoundreland villain, yet still my son, even though he has raised his handagainst me. Leave him to God."
Cyril had stepped a pace back in his surprise. At first he thoughtthat Mr. Harvey's trouble had turned his brain; then it flashedacross him that this ruffian's name was indeed John Harvey. The manwas about to rise from the floor when Cyril again sprang forward.
"Drop that sword," he exclaimed, "or I will run you through. Now,sir," he said to Mr. Harvey, "will you draw out that pistol, whosebutt projects from his pocket, or your son may do one of us mischiefyet?"
That such had been the man's intention was evident from the glance ofbaffled rage he threw at Cyril.
"Now, sir, go," his father said sternly. "Remember that, henceforth,you are no son of mine. Did I do my duty I should hand you over tothe watch--not for your threats to me, but for the sword-thrust youhave given to Joseph Edmonds, who has many times carried you on hisshoulder when a child. You may compass my death, but be assured thatnot one farthing will you gain thereby. 'Vengeance is mine, saith theLord.' I leave it to Him to pay it. Now go."
John Harvey rose to his feet, and walked to the door. Then he turnedand shook his fist at Cyril.
"Curse you!" he said. "I will be even with you yet."
Cyril now had time to look round. His eye fell upon the figure ofMrs. Harvey, who had fallen insensible. He made a step towards her,but her husband said, "She has but fainted. This is more pressing,"and he turned to the old servant. Cyril aided him in lifting the oldman up and laying him on the couch.
"He breathes," said he.
"He is wounded to death," Mr. Harvey said sadly; "and my son hathdone it."
Cyril opened the servant's coat.
"Here is the wound, high up on the left side. It may not touch avital part. It bleeds freely, and I have heard that that is a goodsign."
"It is so," Mr. Harvey said excitedly. "Perhaps he may yet recover. Iwould give all that I am worth that it might be so, and that, bad ashe may be, the sin of this murder should not rest on my son's soul."
"I will run for the doctor, sir, but before I go let me help you tolift your wife. She will doubtless come round shortly, and will aidyou to stanch the wound till the doctor comes."
Mrs. Harvey was indeed already showing signs of returning animation.She was placed on a couch, and water sprinkled on her face. As soonas he saw her eyes open Cyril caught up his hat and ran to Dr.Hodges. The doctor had just finished his supper, and was on the pointof going out again to see some of his patients. On hearing from Cyrilthat a servant of some friends of his had been wounded by a robber,he put some lint and bandages in his pocket, and started with him.
"These robberies are becoming more and more frequent," he said; "andso bold and reckless are the criminals that they seem to care not ajot whether they add murder to their other crimes. Where do you saythe wound is?"
Cyril pointed below his own shoulder.
"It is just about there, doctor."
"Then it may be above the upper edge of the lung. If so, we may savethe man. Half an inch higher or lower will make all the differencebetween life and death. As you say that it was bleeding freely, it isprobable that the sword has missed the lung, for had it pierced it,the bleeding would have been chiefly internal, and the hope of savinghim would have been slight indeed."
When they reached the house Cyril found that Mrs. Harvey had quiterecovered. They had cut open the man's clothes and her husband waspressing a handkerchief, closely folded, upon the wound.
"It is serious, but, I think, not vital," Dr. Hodges said, afterexamining it. "I feel sure that the sword has missed the lung."
After cutting off the rest of the man's upper garments, he poured,from a phial he had brought with him, a few drops of a powerfulstyptic into the wound, placed a thick pad of lint over it, andbandaged it securely. Then, giving directions that a small quantityof spirits and water should be given to the patient from time totime, and, above all things, that he should be kept perfectly quiet,he hurried away.
"Is there anything more I can do, sir?" Cyril asked Mr. Harvey.
"Nothing more. You will understand, sir, what our feelings are, andthat our hearts are too full of grief and emotion for us to speak. Weshall watch together to-night, and lay our case before the Lord."
"Then I will come early in the morning and see if there is aught Ican do, sir. I am going back now to Mr. Wallace, who was uneasy atyour absence. I suppose you would wish me to say only that I foundthat there was a robber in the place who, having wounded yourservant, was on the point of attacking you when I entered, and thathe fled almost immediately."
"That will do. Say to him that for to-night we shall be busy nursing,and that my wife is greatly shaken; therefore I would not that heshould come round, but I pray him to call here in the morning."
"I will do so, sir."
Cyril went downstairs, closed the shutters of the window into whichhe had broken, and put up the bars, and then went out at the door,taking special pains to close it firmly behind him.
He was glad to be out of the house. He had seen many sad scenesduring the last few weeks, but it seemed to him that this was thesaddest of all. Better, a thousand times, to see a son stricken bythe Plague than this. He walked slowly back to the minister's. He metMr. Wallace at the door of his house.
"I was coming round," the latter said. "Of course one or other ofthem are stricken?"
"No, sir; it was another cause that prevented their coming. Just as Ireached the house I heard a scream, and Mrs. Harvey appeared at thecasement calling for help. I forced open a window and ran up. I foundthat a robber had entered the house. He had seriously wounded the oldservant, and was on the point of attacking Mr. Harvey when I entered.Taken by surprise, the man fled almost immediately. Mrs. Harvey hadfainted. At first, we thought the servant was killed, but, findingthat he lived, I ran off and fetched Dr. Hodges, who has dressed thewound, and thinks that the man has a good chance of recovery. As Mrs.Harvey had now come round, and was capable of assisting her husband,they did not accept my offer to stay and do anything I could. I saidI was coming to you, and Mr. Harvey asked me to say that, althoughthey were too much shaken to see you this evening, they should beglad if you would go round to them the first thing in the morning."
"Then the robber got away unharmed?" Mr. Wallace asked.
"He was unharmed, sir. I would rather that you did not question me onthe subject. Mr. Harvey will doubtless enter fully into the matterwith you in the morning. We did not exchange many words, for he wasgreatly disturbed in spirit at the wounding of his old servant, andthe scene he had gone through; and, seeing that he and his wife wouldrather be alone with their patient, I left almost directly after Dr.Hodges went away. However, I may say that I believe that there areprivate matters in the affair, which he will probably himselfcommunicate to you."
"Then I will ask no more questions, Cyril. I am well content to knowthat it is not as I feared, and that the Plague had not attackedthem."
"I said that I would call round in the morning, sir; but I have beenthinking of it as I came along, and consider that, as you will bethere, it is as well that I should not do so. I will come round hereat ten o'clock, and should you not have returned, will wait until youdo. I do not know that I can be of any use whatever, and do not wishto intrude there. Will you kindly say this to them, but add thatshould they really wish me to go, I will of course do so?"
Mr. Wallace looked a little puzzled.
"I will do as you ask me, but it seems to me that they will naturallywish to see you, seeing that, had it not been for your arrival, theymight have been robbed and perhaps murdered."
"You will understand better when you have seen Mr. Harvey, sir. Now Iwill be making for home; it is about my usual hour, and John Wilkeswill be beginning to wonder and worry about me."
To John, Cyril told the same story as to Mr. Wallace.
"But, how was it that you let the villain escape, Master Cyril? Whydid you not run him through the body?
"
"I had other things to think of, John. There was Mrs. Harvey lyinginsensible, and the servant desperately wounded, and I thought moreof these than of the robber, and was glad enough, when he ran out, tobe able to turn my attention to them."
"Ay, ay, that was natural enough, lad; but 'tis a pity the villaingot off scot-free. Truly it is not safe for two old people to be inan empty house by themselves in these times, specially as, maybe, thehouses on either side are also untenanted, and robbers can get intothem and make their way along the roof, and so enter any house theylike by the windows there. It was a mercy you chanced to come along.Men are so accustomed now to hear screams and calls for aid, thatnone trouble themselves as to such sounds. And you still feel quitewell?"
"Never better, John, except for occasional twitches in my shoulder."
"It does not knit so fast as it should do," John said. "In the firstplace, you are always on the move; then no one can go about intoinfected houses without his spirits being disturbed, and of allthings a calm and easy disposition is essential for the properhealing of wounds. Lastly, it is certain that when there is poison inthe air wounds do not heal so quickly as at other times."
"It is going on well enough, John; indeed, I could not desire it todo better. As soon as it is fairly healed I ought to join PrinceRupert again; but in truth I do not wish to go, for I would fain seethis terrible Plague come to an end before I leave; for never sincethe days of the Black Death, hundreds of years ago, was there sostrange and terrible a malady in this country."
Mr. Wallace had returned to his house when Cyril called the nextmorning.
"Thinking over what you said last night, Cyril, I arrived at a prettycorrect conclusion as to what had happened, though I thought not thatit could be as bad as it was. I knew the object with which Mr. Harveyand his wife had come up to London, at a time when most men werefleeing from it. Their son has, ever since he came up three yearsago, been a source of grievous trouble to them, as he was, indeed,for a long time previously. Some natures seem naturally to turn toevil, and this boy's was one of them. It may be that the life at homewas too rigid and severe, and that he revolted against it. Certain itis that he took to evil courses and consorted with bad companions.Severity was unavailing. He would break out of the house at night andbe away for days. He was drunken and dissolute.
"At last, just after a considerable sum of money had come into thehouse from the tenants' rents, he stole it, and went up to London.His name was not mentioned at home, though his father learnt fromcorrespondents here that he had become a hanger-on of the Court,where, his father being a man of condition, he found friends withoutdifficulty. He was a gambler and a brawler, and bore a bad reputationeven among the riff-raff of the Court. His father learnt that he haddisappeared from sight at the time the Court went to Oxford early inJune, and his correspondent found that he was reported to have joineda band of abandoned ruffians, whose least crimes were those ofrobbery.
"When the Plague spread rapidly, Mr. Harvey and his wife determinedto come up to London, to make one more effort to draw him from hisevil courses. The only thing that they have been able to learn forcertain was, that he was one of the performers in that wicked mockerythe dance of death, but their efforts to trace him have otherwisefailed.
"They had intended, if they had found him, and he would have madepromises of amendment, to have given him money that would haveenabled him to go over to America and begin a new life there,promising him a regular allowance to maintain him in comfort. As theyhave many friends over there, some of whom went abroad to settlebefore the Civil War broke out here, they would be able to have newshow he was going on; and if they found he was living a decent life,and truly repented his past course, they would in five years have hadhim back again, and reinstated him as their heir.
"I knew their intentions in the matter, and have done my best to gainthem news of him. I did not believe in the reformation of one who hadshown himself to be of such evil spirit; but God is all-powerful, andmight have led him out from the slough into which he had fallen.
"Yesterday evening, half an hour before you went there, his fatherand mother were astonished at his suddenly entering. He saluted themat first with ironical politeness, and said that having heard fromone from the same part of the country that he had seen them inLondon, he had had the streets thereabouts watched, and having foundwhere they lodged, had come to pay his respects.
"There was a reckless bravado in his manner that alarmed his mother,and it was not long before the purpose of his visit came out. Hedemanded that his father should at once sign a deed which he hadbrought drawn out in readiness, assigning to him at once half hisproperty.
"'You have,' he said, 'far more than you can require. Living as youdo, you must save three-quarters of your income, and it would be atonce an act of charity, and save you the trouble of dealing withmoney that is of no use to you.'
"His father indignantly refused to take any such step, and then toldhim the plans he had himself formed for him. At this he laughedscoffingly.
"'You have the choice,' he said, 'of giving me half, or of my takingeverything.' And then he swore with terrible oaths that unless hisfather signed the paper, that day should be his last. 'You are in mypower,' he said, 'and I am desperate. Do you think that if three deadbodies are found in a house now any will trouble to inquire how theycame to their end? They will be tossed into the plague-cart, and nonewill make inquiry about them.'
"Hearing voices raised in anger, the old servant ran in. At once thevillain drew and ran at him, passing his sword through his body.Then, as if transported at the sight of the blood he had shed, heturned upon his father. It was at this moment that his mother ran tothe window and called for help. He dragged her back, and as she fellfainting with horror and fear he again turned upon his father; hispassion grew hotter and hotter as the latter, upbraiding him with thedeed he had done, refused to sign; and there is no doubt that hewould have taken his life had you not luckily ran in at this moment.
"It has truly been a terrible night for them. They have passed it inprayer, and when I went this morning were both calm and composed,though it was easy to see by their faces how they had suffered, andhow much the blow has told upon them. They have determined to savetheir son from any further temptation to enrich himself by theirdeaths. I fetched a lawyer for them; and when I left Mr. Harvey wasgiving him instructions for drawing up his will, by which everyfarthing is left away from him. They request me to go to them thisevening with two or three of our friends to witness it, as it isnecessary in a time like this that a will should be witnessed by asmany as possible, as some may be carried off by the Plague; andshould all the witnesses be dead, the will might be disputed as aforgery. So the lawyer will bring his clerks with him, and I shalltake four or five of our friends.
"They will return to the country as soon as their servant can bemoved. Dr. Hodges came when I was there, and gives hopes that thecure will be a speedy one. We are going to place some men in thehouse. I have among my poorer friends two men who will be glad toestablish themselves there with their wives, seeing that they willpay no rent, and will receive wages as long as Mr. Harvey remainsthere. There will thus be no fear of any repetition of the attempt.Mr. Harvey, on my advice, will also draw up and sign a paper giving afull account of the occurrence of last evening, and will leave thisin the hands of the lawyer.
"This will be a protection to him should his son follow him into thecountry, as he will then be able to assure him that if he proceeds toviolence suspicion will at once fall upon him, and he will bearrested for his murder. But, indeed, the poor gentleman holds butlittle to his life; and it was only on my representing to him thatthis document might be the means of averting the commission of themost terrible of all sins from the head of his son, that he agreed tosign it. I gave him your message, and he prays me to say that, deeplygrateful as he and his wife are to you, not so much for the saving oftheir lives, as for preventing their son's soul being stained by thecrime, they would indeed rather that yo
u did not call for a time, forthey are so sorely shaken that they do not feel equal to seeing you.You will not, I hope, take this amiss."
"By no means," Cyril replied; "it is but a natural feeling; and, intruth, I myself am relieved that such is their decision, for it wouldbe well-nigh as painful to me as to them to see them again, and totalk over the subject."
"By the way, Cyril, Mr. Harvey said that when you saw his son youcried out his name, and that by the manner in which he turned uponyou it was clear that he had some cause for hating you. Is this so,or was it merely his fancy?"
"It was no fancy, sir. It is not long since I thwarted his attempt tocarry off the daughter of a city merchant, to whom he had representedhimself as a nobleman. He was in the act of doing so, with the aid ofsome friends, when, accompanied by John Wilkes, I came up. There wasa fray, in the course of which I ran him through the shoulder. Theyoung lady returned home with us, and has since heartily repented ofher folly. I had not seen the man since that time till I met himyesterday; but certainly the house was watched for some time, as Ibelieve, by his associates who would probably have done me an illturn had I gone out after nightfall."
"That explains it, Cyril. I will tell Mr. Harvey, whose mind has beenmuch puzzled by your recognition of his son."