Then I took a hand of each and we hastened through the streets,
vaguely steering away from the centre of the city.

Presently we came into that wide new street of mean houses, of
which I have already spoken. There were a few people in it, but
they moved heavily and feebly, as if some mortal illness lay upon
them. Their faces were pale and haggard with a helpless anxiety to
escape more quickly. The houses seemed half deserted. The shades
were drawn, the doors closed.

But since it was all so quiet, I thought that we might find some
temporary shelter there. So I knocked at the door of a house where
there was a dim light behind the drawn shade in one of the windows.

After a while the door was opened by a woman who held the end of
her shawl across her mouth. All that I could see was the black
sorrow of her eyes.

"Go away," she said slowly; "the plague is here. My children are
dying of it. You must not come in! Go away."

So we hurried on through that plague-smitten street, burdened
with a new fear. Soon we saw a house on the riverside which looked
absolutely empty. The shades were up, the windows open, the door
stood ajar. I hesitated; plucked up courage; resolved that we
must get to the waterside in some way in order to escape from the
net of death which encircled us.

"Come," I said, "let us try to go down through this house. But
cover your mouths."