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It was now incumbent on me to seek the habitation of
Thetford. To leave this house accessible to every passenger
appeared to be imprudent. I had no key by which
I might lock the principal door. I therefore bolted it on
the inside, and passed through a window, the shutters of
which I closed, though I could not fasten after me. This
led me into a spacious court, at the end of which was a
brick wall, over which I leaped into the street. This was
the means by which I had formerly escaped from the same
precincts.

The streets, as I passed, were desolate and silent. The
largest computation made the number of fugitives two thirds
of the whole people; yet, judging by the universal desolation,
it seemed as if the solitude were nearly absolute.
That so many of the houses were closed, I was obliged to
ascribe to the cessation of traffic, which made the opening
of their windows useless, and the terror of infection, which
made the inhabitants seclude themselves from the observation
of each other.

I proceeded to search out the house to which Estwick
had directed me, as the abode of Thetford. What was my
consternation when I found it to be the same, at the door of
which the conversation took place, of which I had been an
auditor on the last evening.

I recalled the scene, of which a rude sketch had been
given by the hearse-men. If such were the fate of the
master of the family, abounding with money and friends,
what could be hoped for the moneyless and friendless Wallace?
The house appeared to be vacant and silent, but
these tokens might deceive. There was little room for
hope; but certainty was wanting, and might, perhaps, be
obtained by entering the house. In some of the upper rooms
a wretched being might be immured; by whom the information,
so earnestly desired, might be imparted, and to
whom my presence might bring relief, not only from pestilence,
but famine. For a moment, I forgot my own necessitous
condition, and reflected not that abstinence had
already undermined my strength.

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I proceeded to knock at the door. That my signal was
unnoticed, produced no surprise. The door was unlocked,
and I opened. At this moment my attention was attracted
by the opening of another door near me. I looked, and
perceived a man issuing forth from a house at a small
distance.

It now occurred to me, that the information which I
sought might possibly be gained from one of Thetford's
neighbors. This person was aged, but seemed to have lost
neither cheerfulness nor vigor. He had an air of intrepidity
and calmness. It soon appeared that I was the
object of his curiosity. He had, probably, marked my
deportment through some window of his dwelling, and had
come forth to make inquiries into the motives of my
conduct.

He courteously saluted me. You seem, said he, to be
in search of some one. If I can afford you the information
you want, you will be welcome to it.

Encouraged by this address, I mentioned the name of
Thetford; and added my fears that he had not escaped the
general calamity.

It is true, said he. Yesterday himself, his wife, and his
child were in a hopeless condition. I saw them in the
evening, and expected not to find them alive this morning.
As soon as it was light, however, I visited the house again;
but found it empty. I suppose they must have died, and
been removed in the night.

Though anxious to ascertain the destiny of Wallace, I
was unwilling to put direct questions. I shuddered, while I
longed to know the truth.

Why, said I, falteringly, did he not seasonably withdraw
from the city? Surely he had the means of purchasing an
asylum in the country.

I can scarcely tell you, he answered. Some infatuation
appeared to have seized him. No one was more timorous;
but he seemed to think himself safe, as long as he avoided
contact with infected persons. He was likewise, I believe,
detained by a regard to his interest. His flight would not
have been more injurious to his affairs, than it was to those
of others; but gain was, in his eyes, the supreme good. He
intended ultimately to withdraw; but his escape to-day,

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gave him new courage to encounter the perils of tomorrow.
He deferred his departure from day to day, till it ceased to
be practicable.

His family, said I, was numerous. It consisted of more
than his wife and children. Perhaps these retired in sufficient
season.

Yes, said he; his father left the house at an early period.
One or two of the servants likewise forsook him. One girl,
more faithful and heroic than the rest, resisted the remonstrances
of her parents and friends, and resolved to adhere
to him in every fortune. She was anxious that the family
should fly from danger, and would willingly have fled in
their company; but while they stayed, it was her immovable
resolution not to abandon them.

Alas, poor girl! She knew not of what stuff the heart of
Thetford was made. Unhappily, she was the first to become
sick. I question much whether her disease was
pestilential. It was, probably, a slight indisposition; which,
in a few days, would have vanished of itself, or have readily
yielded to suitable treatment.

Thetford was transfixed with terror. Instead of summoning
a physician, to ascertain the nature of her symptoms, he
called a negro and his cart from Bush-hill. In vain the
neighbors interceded for this unhappy victim. In vain she
implored his clemency, and asserted the lightness of her
indisposition. She besought him to allow her to send to her
mother, who resided a few miles in the country, who would
hasten to her succor, and relieve him and his family from
the danger and trouble of nursing her.

The man was lunatic with apprehension. He rejected
her entreaties, though urged in a manner that would have
subdued a heart of flint. The girl was innocent, and amiable,
and courageous, but entertained an unconquerable dread
of the hospital. Finding entreaties ineffectual, she exerted
all her strength in opposition to the man who lifted her into
the cart.

Finding that her struggles availed nothing, she resigned
herself to despair. In going to the hospital, she believed
herself led to certain death, and to the sufferance of every
evil which the known inhumanity of its attendents could inflict.
This state of mind, added to exposure to a noon-day

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sun, in an open vehicle; moving, for a mile, over a rugged
pavement, was sufficient to destroy her. I was not surprised
to hear that she died the next day.

This proceeding was sufficiently iniquitous; yet it was
not the worst act of this man. The rank and education
of the young woman, might be some apology for negligence;
but his clerk, a youth who seemed to enjoy his confidence,
and to be treated by his family, on the footing of a
brother or son, fell sick on the next night, and was treated
in the same manner.

These tidings struck me to the heart. A burst of indignation
and sorrow filled my eyes. I could scarcely stifle
my emotions sufficiently to ask, of whom, sir, do you speak?
Was the name of the youth—his name—was—

His name was Wallace. I see that you have some interest
in his fate. He was one whom I loved. I would
have given half my fortune to procure him accommodation
under some hospitable roof. His attack was violent; but
still, his recovery, if he had been suitably attended, was
possible. That he should survive removal to the hospital,
and the treatment he must receive when there, was not to
be hoped.

The conduct of Thetford was as absurd as it was wicked.
To imagine this disease to be contagious was the height of
folly; to suppose himself secure, merely by not permitting a
sick man to remain under his roof, was no less stupid; but
Thetford's fears had subverted his understanding. He did
not listen to arguments or supplications. His attention was
incapable of straying from one object. To influence him by
words was equivalent to reasoning with the deaf.

Perhaps the wretch was more to be pitied than hated.
The victims of his implacable caution, could scarcely have
endured agonies greater than those which his pusillanimity
inflicted on himself. Whatever be the amount of his guilt,
the retribution has been adequate. He witnessed the death
of his wife and child, and last night was the close of his own
existence. Their sole attendent was a black woman; whom,
by frequent visits, I endeavored, with little success, to make
diligent in the performance of her duty.

Such, then, was the catastrophe of Wallace. The end
for which I journeyed hither was accomplished. His destiny

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was ascertained; and all that remained was to fulfil the
gloomy predictions of the lovely, but unhappy Susan. To
tell them all the truth, would be needlessly to exasperate
her sorrow. Time, aided by the tenderness and sympathy
of friendship, may banish her despair, and relieve her from
all but the witcheries of melancholy.

Having disengaged my mind from these reflections, I
explained to my companion in general terms, my reasons
for visiting the city, and my curiosity respecting Thetford.
He inquired into the particulars of my journey, and the time
of my arrival. When informed that I had come in the preceding
evening, and had passed the subsequent hours without
sleep or food, he expressed astonishment and compassion.

Your undertaking, said he, has certainly been hazardous.
There is poison in every breath which you draw, but this
hazard has been greatly increased by abstaining from food
and sleep. My advice is to hasten back into the country;
but you must first take some repose and some victuals. If
you pass Schuylkill before night-fall, it will be sufficient.

I mentioned the difficulty of procuring accommodation on
the road. It would be most prudent to set out upon my
journey so as to reach Malverton at night. As to food and
sleep they were not to be purchased in this city.

True, answered my companion, with quickness, they are
not to be bought, but I will furnish you with as much as you
desire of both, for nothing. That is my abode, continued
he, pointing to the house, which he had lately left. I reside
with a widow lady and her daughter, who took my counsel,
and fled in due season. I remain to moralize upon the
scene, with only a faithful black, who makes my bed, prepares
my coffee, and bakes my loaf. If I am sick, all that
a physician can do, I will do for myself, and all that a nurse
can perform, I expect to be performed by Austin.

Come with me, drink some coffee, rest a while on my
mattress, and then fly, with my benedictions on your head.

These words were accompanied by features disembarrassed
and benevolent. My temper is alive to social impulses,
and I accepted his invitation, not so much because I wished
to eat or to sleep, but because I felt reluctance to part so

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soon with a being, who possessed so much fortitude and
virtue.

He was surrounded by neatness and plenty. Austin added
dexterity to submissiveness. My companion, whose name
I now found to be Medlicote, was prone to converse, and
commented on the state of the city like one whose reading
had been extensive and experience large. He combated
an opinion which I had casually formed, respecting the
origin of this epidemic, and imputed it, not to infected substances
imported from the east or west, but to a morbid
constitution of the atmosphere, owing wholly, or in part to
filthy streets, airless habitations and squalid persons.

As I talked with this man, the sense of danger was obliterated,
I felt confidence revive in my heart, and energy revisit
my stomach. Though far from my wonted health, my
sensation grew less comfortless, and I found myself to stand
in no need of repose.

Breakfast being finished, my friend pleaded his daily engagements
as reasons for leaving me. He counselled me
to strive for some repose, but I was conscious of incapacity
to sleep. I was desirous of escaping, as soon as possible,
from this tainted atmosphere, and reflected whether any thing
remained to be done respecting Wallace.

It now occurred to me that this youth must have left some
clothes and papers, and, perhaps, books. The property of
these was now vested in the Hadwins. I might deem
myself, without presumption, their representative or agent.
Might I not take some measures for obtaining possession, or
at least, for the security of these articles?

The house and its furniture was tenantless and unprotected.
It was liable to be ransacked and pillaged by those
desperate ruffians, of whom many were said to be hunting
for spoil, even at a time like this. If these should overlook
this dwelling, Thetford's unknown successor or heir might
appropriate the whole. Numberless accidents might happen
to occasion the destruction or embezzlement of what
belonged to Wallace, which might be prevented by the conduct
which I should now pursue.

Immersed in these perplexities, I remained bewildered
and motionless. I was at length roused by some one

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knocking at the door. Austin obeyed the signal, and instantly
returned, leading in—Mr. Hadwin!

I know not whether this unlooked for interview excited on
my part, most grief or surprise. The motive of his coming
was easily divined. His journey was on two accounts superfluous.
He whom he sought was dead. The duty of
ascertaining his condition, I had assigned to myself.

I now perceived and deplored the error of which I had
been guilty, in concealing my intended journey from my
patron. Ignorant of the part I had acted, he had rushed
into the jaws of this pest, and endangered a life unspeakably
valuable to his children and friends. I should doubtless
have obtained his grateful consent to the project which I had
conceived; but my wretched policy had led me into this
clandestine path. Secrecy may seldom be a crime. A
virtuous intention may produce it; but surely it is always
erroneous and pernicious.

My friend's astonishment at the sight of me, was not inferior
to my own. The causes which led to this unexpected
interview were mutually explained. To soothe the agonies
of his child, he consented to approach the city, and endeavor
to procure intelligence of Wallace. When he left
his house, he intended to stop in the environs, and hire some
emissary, whom an ample reward might tempt to enter the
city, and procure the information which was needed.

No one could be prevailed upon to execute so dangerous
a service. Averse to return without performing his commission,
he concluded to examine for himself. Thetford's
removal to this street was known to him; but, being ignorant
of my purpose, he had not mentioned this circumstance to
me, during our last conversation.

I was sensible of the danger which Hadwin had incurred
by entering the city. Perhaps my knowledge of the inexpressible
importance of his life, to the happiness of his daughters,
made me aggravate his danger. I knew that the longer
he lingered in this tainted air, the hazard was increased. A
moment's delay was unnecessary. Neither Wallace nor
myself were capable of being benefited by his presence.

I mentioned the death of his nephew, as a reason for
hastening his departure. I urged him in the most vehement
terms to remount his horse and to fly; I endeavored to

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preclude all inquiries respecting myself or Wallace; promising
to follow him immediately, and answer all his questions at
Malverton. My importunities were enforced by his own
fears, and after a moment's hesitation, he rode away.

The emotions produced by this incident, were, in the present
critical state of my frame, eminently hurtful. My
morbid indications suddenly returned. I had reason to ascribe
my condition to my visit to the chamber of Maravegli,
but this and its consequences, to myself, as well as the
journey of Hadwin, were the fruits of my unhappy secrecy.

I had always been accustomed to perform my journeys on
foot. This, on ordinary occasions, was the preferable
method, but now I ought to have adopted the easiest and
swiftest means. If Hadwin had been acquainted with my
purpose he would not only have approved, but would have
allowed me the use of a horse. These reflections were
rendered less pungent by the recollection that my motives
were benevolent, and that I had endeavored the benefit of
others by means, which appeared to me most suitable.

Meanwhile, how was I to proceed? What hindered me
from pursuing the footsteps of Hadwin with all the expedition
which my uneasiness, of brain and stomach, would
allow? I conceived that to leave any thing undone, with
regard to Wallace, would be absurd. His property might
be put under the care of my new friend. But how was it
to be distinguished from the property of others? It was,
probably, contained in trunks, which were designated by
some label or mark. I was unacquainted with his chamber,
but, by passing from one to the other, I might finally discover
it. Some token, directing my footsteps, might occur,
though at present unforeseen.

Actuated by these considerations, I once more entered
Thetford's habitation. I regretted that I had not procured
the counsel or attendance of my new friend, but some engagements,
the nature of which he did not explain, occasioned
him to leave me as soon as breakfast was finished.