Averting his head from the revolting spectacles, Sir Norman held the bottle of vinegar to his nostrils, and rode rapidly till he reached Newgate.There he was stopped until his bill of health was examined, and that small manuscript being found all right, he was permitted to pass on in peace.Everywhere he went, the trail of the serpent was visible over all.Death and Desolation went hand in hand.Outside as well as inside the gates, great piles of wood and coal were arranged, waiting only the midnight hour to be fired.Here, however, no one seemed to be stirring; and no sound broke the silence but the distant rumble of the death-cart, and the ringing of the driver's bell.There were lights in some of the houses, but many of them were dark and deserted, and nearly every one bore the red cross of the plague.
It was a gloomy scene and hour, and Sir Norman's heart turned sick within him as he noticed tho ruin and devastation the pestilence had everywhere wrought.And he remembered, with a shudder, the prediction of Lilly, the astrologer, that the paved streets of London would be like green fields, and the living be no longer able to bury the dead.Long before this, he had grown hardened and accustomed to death from its very frequence; but now, as he looked round him, he almost resolved to ride on and return no more to London till the plague should have left it.
But then came the thought of his unknown lady-love, and with it the reflection that he was on his way to find her; and, rousing himself from his melancholy reverie, he rode on at a brisker pace, heroically resolved to brave the plague or any other emergency, for her sake.Full of this laudable and lover-like resolution, he had got on about half a mile further, when he was suddenly checked in his rapid career by an exciting, but in no way surprising, little incident.
During the last few yards, Sir Norman had come within sight of another horseman, riding on at rather a leisurely pace, considering the place and the hour.Suddenly three other horsemen came galloping down upon him, and the leader presenting a pistol at his head, requested him in a stentorial voice for his money or his life.By way of reply, the stranger instantly produced a pistol of his own, and before the astonished highwayman could comprehend the possibility of such an act, discharged it full in his face.With a loud yell the robber reeled and fell from his saddle, and in a twinkling both his companions fired their pistols at the traveler, and bore, with a simultaneous cry of rage, down upon him.Neither of the shots had taken effect, but the two enraged highwaymen would have made short work of their victim had not Sir Norman, like a true knight, ridden to the rescue.Drawing his sword, with one vigorous blow he placed another of the assassins hors de combat;and, delighted with the idea of a fight to stir his stagnant blood, was turning (like a second St.George at the Dragon), upon the other, when that individual, thinking discretion the better part of valor, instantaneously turned tail and fled.The whole brisk little episode had not occupied five minutes, and Sir Norman was scarcely aware the fight had began before it had triumphantly ended.
"Short, sharp, and decisive!" was the stranger's cool criticism, as he deliberately wiped his blood=stained sword, and placed it in a velvet scabbard."Our friends, there, got more than they bargained for, I fancy.Though, but for you, Sir," he said, politely raising him hat and bowing, "I should probably have been ere this in heaven, or - the other place."Sir Norman, deeply edified by the easy sang-froid of the speaker, turned to take a second look at him.There was very little light; for the night had grown darker as it wore on, and the few stars that had glimmered faintly had hid their diminished heads behind the piles of inky clouds.Still, there was a sort of faint phosphorescent light whitening the gloom, and by it Sir Norman's keen bright eyes discovered that he wore a long dark cloak and slouched hat.He discovered something else, too - that he had seen that hat and cloak, and the man inside of them on London Bridge, not an hour before.It struck Sir Norman there was a sort of fatality in their meeting; and his pulses quickened a trifle, as he thought that he might be speaking to the husband of the lady for whom he had so suddenly conceived such a rash and inordinate attachment.That personage meantime having reloaded his pistol, with a self-possession refreshing to witness, replaced it in his doublet, gathered up the reins, and, glancing slightly at his companion, spoke again"I should thank you for saving my life, I suppose, but thanking people is so little in my line, that I scarcely know how to set about it.Perhaps, my dear sir, you will take the will for the deed.""An original, this," thought Sir Norman,"whoever he is." Then aloud: "Pray don't trouble yourself about thanks, sir, I should have dome precisely the same for the highwaymen, had you been three to one over them.""I don't doubt it in the least; nevertheless I feel grateful, for you have saved my life all the same, and you have never seen me before.""There you are mistaken," said Sir Norman, quietly "I had the pleasure of seeing you scarce an hour ago.""Ah!" said the stranger, in an altered tone, "and where?""On London Bridge."
"I did not see you."
"Very likely, but I was there none the less.""Do you know me?" said the stranger; and Sir Norman could see he was gazing at him sharply from under the shadow of his slouched hat.
"I have not that honor, but I hope to do so before we part.""It was quite dark when you saw me on the bridge - how comes it, then, that you recollect me so well?""I have always been blessed with an excellent memory," said Sir Norman carelessly, "and I knew your dress, face, and voice instantly.""My voice! Then you heard me speak, probably to the watchman guarding a plague-stricken house?""Exactly! and the subject being a very interesting one, Ilistened to all you said."
