"I dare say, John. Still, it will be a change, and, as soon as I am
strong enough, I shall sally out with you."

Another fortnight, and Cyril was able to do so. The Plague had still
spread, but so slowly that people began to hope that the City would
be spared any great calamity, for they were well on in July, and in
another six weeks the heat of summer would be passed. Some of those
who had gone into the country returned, more shops had been opened,
and the panic had somewhat subsided.

"What do you mean to do, Master Cyril?" John Wilkes asked that
evening. "Of course you cannot join the Fleet again, for it will be,
as the doctor says, another two months before your shoulder-bone will
have knit strongly enough for you to use your arm, and at sea it is a
matter of more consequence than on land for a man to have the use of
both arms. The ship may give a sudden lurch, and one may have to make
a clutch at whatever is nearest to prevent one from rolling into the
lee scuppers; and such a wrench as that would take from a weak arm
all the good a three months' nursing had done it, and might spoil the
job of getting the bone to grow straight again altogether. I don't
say you are fit to travel yet, but you should be able before long to
start on a journey, and might travel down into Gloucestershire,
where, be sure, you will be gladly welcomed by the Captain, his dame,
and Mistress Nellie. Or, should you not care for that, you might go
aboard a ship. There are hundreds of them lying idle in the river,
and many families have taken up their homes there, so as to be free
from all risks of meeting infected persons in the streets."

"I think I shall stay here, John, and keep you company. If the Plague