THE PLAGUE


Reluctant as they were to leave Cyril, Mrs. Dowsett and her daughter
speedily saw that the doctor's advice was good. Cyril did not say
much, but an expression of restful satisfaction came over his face,
and it was not long before he fell into a quiet sleep that contrasted
strongly with the restless and fretful state in which he had passed
the night.

"You see I was right, madam," the doctor said that evening. "The
fever has not quite left him, but he is a different man to what he
was this morning; another quiet night's rest, and he will regain the
ground he has lost. I think you can go in perfect comfort so far as
he is concerned. Another week and he will be up, if nothing occurs to
throw him back again; but of course it will be weeks before he can
use his arm."

John Wilkes had been sent off as soon as it was settled that they
would go, and had bought, at Epping, a waggon and a pair of strong
horses. It had a tilt, and the ladies were to sleep in it on the
journey, as it was certain that, until they were far away from
London, they would be unable to obtain lodgings. A man was engaged to
drive them down, and a sail and two or three poles were packed in the
waggon to make a tent for him and Captain Dowsett. A store of
provisions was cooked, and a cask of beer, another of water, and a
case of wine were also placed in. Mattresses were laid down for the
ladies to sit on during the day and to sleep on at night; so they
would be practically independent during the journey. Early next