"Bring out your dead!" sounded in the streets all day. It was no
longer possible to watch the whole of the infected houses. Sometimes
Plague-stricken men would escape from their beds and run through the
streets until they dropped dead. One such man, in the height of his
delirium, sprang into the river, and, after swimming about for some
time, returned to the shore, marvellously cured of his malady by the
shock.

Cyril went occasionally in the evening to the lodgings of Mr.
Wallace. At first he met several people gathered there, but the
number became fewer every time he went. He had told the minister that
he thought that it would be better for him to stay away, exposed as
he was to infection, but Mr. Wallace would take no excuses on this
score.

"We are all in the hands of God," he said. "The streets are full of
infected people, and I myself frequently go to pray with my friends
in the earliest stages of the malady. There is no longer any use in
precautions. We can but all go on doing our duty until we are called
away, and even among the few who gather here of an evening there may
be one or more who are already smitten, though unconscious yet that
their 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 on
account of a painful family business.

"I have tried to persuade them to return home and to stay there until
the Plague ceases, but they conceive it their duty to remain. They
are, like myself, Independents, and are not easily to be turned from