hild--for their
sakes it was necessary to be prudent. Yet I could not leave this poor
boy unassisted. I resolved to go to the harbor in search of medical
aid. With this idea in my mind I spoke cheerfully.

"Courage, my boy," I said; "do not lose heart! All illness is not the
plague. Rest here till I return; I am going to fetch a doctor."

The little fellow looked at me with wondering, pathetic eyes, and tried
to smile. He pointed to his throat, and made an effort to speak, but
vainly. Then he crouched down in the grass and writhed in torture like
a hunted animal wounded to the death. I left him and walked on rapidly;
reaching the harbor, where the heat was sulphurous and intense, I found
a few scared-looking men standing aimlessly about, to whom I explained
the boy's case, and appealed for assistance. They all hung back--none
of them would accompany me, not even for the gold I offered. Cursing
their cowardice, I hurried on in search of a physician, and found one
at last, a sallow Frenchman, who listened with obvious reluctance to my
account of the condition in which I had left the little fruit-seller,
and at the end shook his head decisively, and refused to move.

"He is as good as dead," he observed, with cold brevity. "Better call
at the house of the Miserecordia; the brethren will fetch his body."

"What!" I cried; "you will nor try if you can save him?"

The Frenchman bowed with satirical suavity.

"Monsieur must pardon me! My own health would be seriously endangered
by touching a cholera corpse. Allow me to wish monsieur the good-day!"

And he disappeared, shutting his door in my face. I was thoroughly
exasperated, and though the heat and the fetid odor of the sun-baked
streets made me feel faint and sick, I forgot all danger for myself as
I stood in the plague-stricken city, wondering what I should do next to
obtain succor. A grave, kind voice saluted my ear.

"You seek aid, my son?"

I looked up. A tall monk, whose cowl partly concealed his pale, but
resolute features, stood at my side--one of those heroes who, for the
love of Christ, came forth at that terrible time and faced the
pestilence fearlessly, where the blatant boasters of no-religion
scurried away like frightened hares from the very scent of danger. I
greeted him with an obeisance, and explained my errand.

"I will go at once," he said, with an accent of pity in his voice. "But
I fear the worst. I have remedies with me; I may not be too late.