"
"Mum's the word in future, Master Cyril. I will keep the hatches fast
down on my tongue. Now I will push your bed up near the window as the
doctor ordered, and then I hope you will get a good long sleep."
The Plague and the process by which it had been expelled had left
Cyril so weak that it was some days before he could walk across the
room. Every morning he inquired anxiously of John how he felt, and
the answer was always satisfactory. John had never been better in his
life; therefore, by the time Cyril was able to walk to his easy-chair
by the window, he began to hope that John had escaped the infection,
which generally declared itself within a day or two, and often within
a few hours, of the first outbreak in a house.
A week later the doctor, who paid him a flying visit every two or
three days, gave him the welcome news that he had ordered the red
cross to be removed from the door, and the watchmen to cease their
attendance, as the house might now be considered altogether free from
infection.
The Plague continued its ravages with but slight abatement, moving
gradually eastward, and Aldgate and the district lying east of the
walls were now suffering terribly. It was nearly the end of September
before Cyril was strong enough to go out for his first walk. Since
the beginning of August some fifty thousand people had been carried
off, so that the streets were now almost entirely deserted, and in
many places the grass was shooting up thickly in the road.
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