However rich the room, it was in great disorder; and when we went up-stairs we found matters no better--beds half stript, chests and cabinets left open, floors strewed with things pulled forth in haste and left there. We pitched on one sleeping-room to the back, to use ourselves; and, having satisfied ourselves that no evil-disposed person lay hid in any room, we shut them all up (the keys being left in the locks) except that sleeping-room, the parlour we had first entered, the kitchen, and one great room looking to the front, agreeing to use no other apartments; and to this rule we kept, except when, as I have told, I went a-hunting for means to write this history.
That work of examining the house was terrible to me, especially when we looked into Mr. Dacre"s own chamber. There we found a mighty rich bed, with hangings of silk and silver, and all the toilet furniture in silver also; with couches and cushions richly wrought, and certain splendid garments, with a jewelled sword, left flung upon them, as if the owner had just put them off; but all was disordered wildly, as if by the dying struggles of a madman, and the gorgeousness seemed to add to the horror of it. I trembled as I looked at the glimmering mirror and thought of what it might have reflected; our cousin"s image seemed to rise up in all his pride and bravery as I last saw him, but with the ghastly face of death; so I hurried out and flung the door to behind us, and Althea turned the key in the lock. After which we avoided pa.s.sing that way; for the place was not less dreadful to her than to me; she acknowledged it made her remember what we had heard of the great burying-pit in Aldgate, and the dishonoured corpses that were flung into it, heaps upon heaps.
"He may have gone to that grave from this splendid chamber--it"s a hideous mockery," she said.
CHAPTER X.
HOW WE DWELT IN A HOUSE THAT WAS NOT OUR OWN.
And now Althea began her search after Andrew, with none to help her but poor me and honest Will. Our chief care being not to be seen going out or coming in, she chose to steal forth of the back door early in the mornings; sometimes I with her, sometimes Will, but one of us always staying in the house to watch it, and to open at nightfall to the others. Althea went to such shops as she could find open and bought things, sometimes mere trifles, sometimes food and other necessaries, but always spending much time over it, and both listening to the talk of other folk, and drawing the shop-people into talk herself; when she contrived to work round to the prisons, and the poor souls in them, and how they fared in these bad times. Once or twice she took a boat and went up the river, and then was wondrous affable to the watermen, setting them talking also on the same matters; and thus she did with every one whom she could draw to speak with her, not disdaining even beggars, nor fearing the watchmen who guarded houses supposed to be infected, and therefore shut up. I confess that these last were people I would gladly have shunned, there being something so awful to me in the locked doors (marked with a great red cross, and "Lord, have mercy on us" writ large upon them) by which the poor fellows sat. But Althea seemed to have said a long good-bye to fear. And with questioning and listening, and piecing things together by little and little, she a.s.sured herself that Andrew must be in Newgate, if he lay in any London prison.
She had tried to find out by artful inquiries if any man had shown himself in London, announcing a coming judgment, and warning people to avoid it, as Andrew had proposed to do; on which people informed her of several such persons, but their descriptions answered not to our poor friend.
One man had cried up and down the streets, "Yet forty days, and London shall be destroyed," after the fashion of the prophet Jonah; and another had run about by day and by night, naked to the waist, and crying, "Oh!
the great and dreadful G.o.d!" and no other words; which struck a great terror into all who saw and heard him; and yet a third, who was said to be a Quaker, acted more strangely; but he was known by name to those who told about him. Also in all these tales there was something frantic and unreasonable, not like Andrew, nor like the way he had designed to act.
I think I myself saw one of these strange creatures. It was my turn to be housekeeper, Althea wanting Will"s help to carry her purchases home that day. Such a solitary day was very dismal and heart-sinking to me; and had it not been for my plan of writing this history, I know not how I could have borne it. When it grew dusk I ventured to look out at a front window to see if my friends were coming; but what I saw was the light of torches coming up the street, which was the sign of a funeral, it being ordered that people should only bury at night; and presently came by a coffin borne of four, and a great many people following; for it was wonderful how people crowded to funerals at this time, as if desperate of their lives. They stopt suddenly, to my terror, right in front of my window; but it was because of another crowd meeting them, and in its midst a tall man, moving very swiftly, and going straight before him. He was stript to the waist; and I thought at first that the hair of his head was all in a flame of fire, but it was a chafing-dish of burning brimstone that he had set upon his head, and which glared through the darkness. As he met the coffin he made a stand, and looked upon it.
[Ill.u.s.tration: "I think I myself saw one of these strange creatures."]
"Yet one more," he said, in a deep hoa.r.s.e voice,--"one more has fallen in his sins! but ye do not repent. Woe, woe, woe to this unfaithful city!" and he went on again directly, but continued to cry "Woe, woe!"
as long as I could hear him; the people running after and around him could scarce keep up with his swift pace. Those who were bearing and following the coffin had seemed struck with horror; but now they got into order again; and I heard one near the window bidding them sneeringly never to heed a mad Quaker, while another said aloud, "I marvel such an evil-boding fool is left at large, when far quieter folks of his sort lie rotting in prison;" words which made me fain to hear more; but the men all moved off, and I had scarce seen their torches go twinkling away into darkness, when I heard the signal at the back door, and hurried joyfully to let in my friends, who had been delayed by meeting the funeral; but they had missed the other strange spectacle.
As I remember, this was the second Sat.u.r.day we spent in town; and here I may say that almost every Lord"s Day which found us in our dismal abode, we two made our way to some church at a good distance, and there joined in worship.
I never saw churches more crowded, worshippers more devout, ministers more fervent. We understood by what we heard that not a few clergymen were dead of the Plague, and others fled for terror; because of which certain of the silenced ministers were called on to fill those vacant pulpits; and they did so while the Plague lasted, with great zeal and boldness, no man saying them nay. But neither the courage of these men, nor the fervency with which they preached and visited among the sick and dying, could so far recommend them to Will that he would set foot in what he called the steeple-houses; so on the Lord"s Day we had to dispense with his attendance, and this troubled me; but on the other hand there was comfort in seeing how my poor sister rejoiced in the ministerings of these faithful men. A great change showed itself in her; she was full of a new tenderness to me, and was most mild and patient with poor Will and his odd ways; and as for him, I believe he would have died for her, or done anything that she desired, except lodging in Mr. Dacre"s house, or worshipping in a church.
Now when Althea had a.s.sured herself she must look for Andrew in Newgate and in no other prison, she set herself to get admission there. "No lock so hard," she said to me, "but will go with a golden key."
So she put money enough in her purse. She took Will with her, clad in a suit fit for a plain country gentleman, for she wished it to be thought he was one who had power to protect her; and, having found out the keeper of Newgate, she bought from him at a great price leave to visit his gloomy wicked kingdom, and to relieve poor creatures lying in it for conscience sake.
Now, had she relieved all who professed that they were such as she sought, she might have spent the wealth of both Indies; for it was shocking how many utter reprobates pressed up to her and to Will, claiming that they were imprisoned for matters of religion; but their brazen countenances, that bore the deep impress of their wickedness, witnessed against them. With great trouble she found out at last a few of the sort she wanted, and then began to ask for Andrew by name; but no one seemed to know aught of him; the keeper too professed ignorance of any such person. But her belief was strong that he lay within those walls, and she went again and again on the same errand.
Now I could never get her leave to go with her to Newgate. She said at first that Will, being a man, was more useful to her than I could be; but afterwards she owned that the prison was so vile and hideous a place she could not endure I should see it.
"There is no need," she said, "for more than one of us to behold such monstrous evil. "Tis a society of fiends, Lucy, a training-school for all vice, and the keeper is worthy of it. I think it is not less than acted blasphemy to throw good men into it; as well send them alive into h.e.l.l. The Lord look upon it, and require it."
"Are there any of the Friends shut up there?" I asked.
"There have been hundreds, I am told," she said; "even now there are too many, but they die daily of fever and misery;" and she stopped short, presently saying, "If I find him not, I will not repent of my search. I have fed some starving saints already." So she continued her visits and her inquiries.
But I began to find it an almost unbearable penance to stay within doors alone in her absence; I prayed and struggled for composure, but could not attain it, and at last I said I must go out sometimes to breathe the air. She warned me of perils awaiting me if I walked abroad by myself, but I got some poor coa.r.s.e black clothes that I put on, and a hood to hide my face; and I sometimes added to these a cloth tied about my neck, such as I had seen on poor creatures who had sores. It was an artifice, but I hope not a sinful one; for in this disguise, and contriving to behave like a sick languishing person, I was more terrible to disorderly people than they to me, and they kept at a good distance from me. Thus I took many a walk about the streets; but my chief comfort was only to see a variety of dismal objects. The street where we dwelt was quite gra.s.s-grown and empty; I do not think there were above two inhabited houses in it, nor would you see above half a dozen people go through it, in all the length of the summer"s day. Of the pa.s.sengers that I met elsewhere, I think two out of every three were poor sickly objects with sores and plasters upon them; and sometimes it was my luck to meet coffins of those dead of the sickness; for now there could be no strict observing of the rule to bury them by night, the number of such funerals increasing at a frightful rate.
CHAPTER XI.
HOW THERE CAME NEW GUESTS INTO THE HOUSE.
The last day that I ventured out in this foolhardy manner I had a terrible fright which even now it is distasteful to remember. I was hurrying to get home, being warned by the darkening light that it was drawing near Althea"s time to return, and, chancing to look behind me as I turned a corner, I was aware that not many paces from me was a man, tall and st.u.r.dy, who seemed to be following me, his eyes being fixed on me; and when I turned it seemed to give him a kind of start, for he looked away, and made as if he would cross to the other side. This alarmed me, and I quickened my pace from a walk almost into a run, resolving meanwhile not to look round again; yet I could not resist the fancy that I heard steps coming after me; and glancing over my shoulder I was aware of some one at no great distance off; on which I dared look no more; and, being now very near home, I darted round to the back entrance; and having got in and made the door fast, I sat down trembling, to get my breath.
I was still much disquieted, when I heard the joyful sound of Althea"s signal at the back door; I flew to open to her, my hands trembling so I could hardly withdraw the bolts. But when I got the door open, it was not Althea who stood without, but that very man whom I had tried to escape; he stood with his back to the sky, which was red and glowing, for it was just past sunset; and I saw him to be tall and powerful and roughly clad, so sunburnt that he might have been a Moor; and a long scar that ran from his eyebrow half across his cheek gave a strange fierceness to his look. This was all I could see, his back being to the light, such as it was. I gave a smothered shriek, and would have shut the door on him; but he said,--
"Not so hasty, mistress--look at me again, and you will not turn me away, I think."
But I still held the door in my hand, and said hastily, "I can admit no stranger--you should know this house is infected--what do you seek?" at which the man"s eyes, which I saw to be blue and bright, began to twinkle, and he said,--
"You will think it odd, madam, but I am come seeking my true love--Lucia Dacre is her name; do you know aught of her?" with which words he smiled, and all his face changed in that smile into the face of my own Harry.
My heart sprang up in sudden rapture; I think, as the play says, it "leaped to be gone into his bosom," for there I found myself the next moment, clasped tight in his arms, and holding him tight enough too, while I laughed and sobbed, crying out, "Are you indeed my Harry? am I so blest beyond all other women? have you come back to me, alive from the dead?"
"You may say indeed, sweetheart, that I am alive from the dead," he said seriously; "in a double sense I was dead and am alive again. But my tale must wait for a better time. I am sent before, dear love, to tell you your sister is coming, and not coming alone."
"Who is coming with her? any one beside Will? have you come to say she hath found Andrew? has she indeed?" I cried.
"Ay," said Harry, "he is found; but I fear we may lose him again. Have you here a place, Lucy, here a dying man may lie softly and easily, the little time he has left? If not, make one ready quickly--but no stairs for him, remember. I would help you, dear heart," he said tenderly, "were it not that I must keep watch here for their coming."
I turned my lips to his hand, as I unclasped my arms from him; then I flew to do as he had bidden. I dragged the coverings off our own bed and hastily spread a couch in that room where we commonly sat; I set lights, food, cordials in readiness on the table; then I ran back to the door, half afraid my Harry would have vanished like a dream; but there he was, watching yet; so I took my place beside him, and loaded him with questions about the finding of Andrew. I learned he had a large share in it.
"A poor seaman who loved me," he said, "met me this morning when I landed at Woolwich; and he testified such extravagant joy on seeing me that I own I half thought him mad."
"Then what can you think of me?" I put in; at which Harry said,--
"Nay, Lucy, you were ice compared to this poor fellow. He is one that hath tasted Andrew"s bounty, and that not long since; for his wife sickened of the Plague, and our Andrew at his own cost provided a physician for her, and many other comforts; and "tis owing to that, the man thinks, that she is now sound and well."
"Where was this?" I said, wondering.
"Here, in London," said Harry. "Now close on this woman"s recovery came the seizing of Andrew, and "tis but lately that the poor grateful sailor discovered how his benefactor had been lying long in Newgate, where he was thrown by one Ralph Lacy"s procurement."
"Ah!" I said, "that wretch! but he has paid for it, Harry. But why could Althea never find Andrew before?"
"I cannot tell by what devilish prompting it was," he said, "that Lacy bore Andrew and every one else down, that his true name was not Golding, but Dewsbury--William Dewsbury, as I think; and that he had shifted his name to avoid prosecution, having been once imprisoned already; and what our poor friend said to the contrary being slighted as a lie, his true name has never been given him. So inquiry after him has been crippled; and not by this means only."
"But if this sailor be so grateful, why did he not come to our poor friend"s help?" I said indignantly; but Harry said, sighing,--
"A dest.i.tute seaman! why, there be throngs of them and their wives starving in the streets, and cursing the navy officers because they cannot get their own hard wages. And this was why my poor fellow showed such frantic joy on seeing me--"twas for love of Andrew; he hurried his tidings on me, and bade me hasten to the gaol and relieve my friend; himself going there with me, else I had not sped so well."
Now how Harry sped at the prison I learnt afterwards; for at this point his tale was cut short; but I will put the story here, where it seems fittest.
By great good fortune Althea encountered with Harry and the seaman Ned Giles at the very gate of the prison, and she soon bought leave to visit the prisoner called William Dewsbury, who lay under lock and key in a very filthy cell, and had latterly been denied even bread and water, because his money being spent he could not satisfy his gaoler"s demands.
They found him lying on a heap of mouldy straw; he was miserably wasted, and to all seeming lifeless; yet they knew him at once for Andrew; and Harry perceived there was life yet in him. Althea, however, seeing him lie as if dead, rose into fiery indignation; she turned to the gaoler, saying, in a terrible voice,--
"See there, murderer! that is your work--the blood of this man shall lie on your soul for ever--it shall drown you in perdition!" at which he cowered and shrank ("and well he might," said Harry), stammering out "twas an oversight, a pure accident; and she going on to threaten him with law and vengeance, he asked hurriedly, would not the lady like to remove the poor man, and give him honourable burial? at which Harry whispered her, "Take his offer quickly; say not a word more of revenge;"