that had gone before. Wretched
beings crawled to die under our succouring roof; the inhabitants of the
Castle decreased daily, while the survivors huddled together in fear, and,
as in a famine-struck boat, the sport of the wild, interminable waves, each
looked in the other's face, to guess on whom the death-lot would next fall.
All this I endeavoured to veil, so that it might least impress my Idris;
yet, as I have said, my courage survived even despair: I might be
vanquished, but I would not yield.

One day, it was the ninth of September, seemed devoted to every disaster,
to every harrowing incident. Early in the day, I heard of the arrival of
the aged grandmother of one of our servants at the Castle. This old woman
had reached her hundredth year; her skin was shrivelled, her form was bent
and lost in extreme decrepitude; but as still from year to year she
continued in existence, out-living many younger and stronger, she began to
feel as if she were to live for ever. The plague came, and the inhabitants
of her village died. Clinging, with the dastard feeling of the aged, to the
remnant of her spent life, she had, on hearing that the pestilence had come
into her neighbourhood, barred her door, and closed her casement, refusing
to communicate with any. She would wander out at night to get food, and
returned home, pleased that she had met no one, that she was in no danger
from the plague. As the earth became more desolate, her difficulty in
acquiring sustenance increased; at first, her son, who lived near, had
humoured her by placing articles of food in her way: at last he died. But,
even though threatened by famine, her fear of the plague was paramount; and
her greatest care was to avoid her fellow creatures. She grew weaker each
day, and each day she had further to go. The night before, she had reached
Datchet; and, prowling about, had found a baker's shop open and deserted.
Laden with spoil, she hastened to return, and lost her way. The night was
windless, hot, and cloudy; her load became too heavy for her; and one by
one she threw away her loaves, still endeavouring to get along, though her
hobbling fell into lameness, and her weakness at last into inability to
move.

She lay down among the tall corn, and fell asleep. Deep in midnight, she
was awaked by a rustling near her; she would have started up, but her stiff
joints refused to obey her will. A low moan close to her ear followed, and
the rustling increased; she hea