The sun was setting as Leonard walked towards this dismal place, and he thought he had never witnessed so magnificent a sight.  Indeed, it was remarked that at this fatal season the sunsets were unusually splendid.  The glorious orb sank slowly behind Saint Paul’s, which formed a prominent object in the view from the fields, and threw out its central tower, its massive roof, and the two lesser towers flanking the portico, into strong relief.  Leonard gazed at the mighty fabric, which seemed dilated to twice its size by this light, and wondered whether it was possible that it could ever be destroyed, as predicted by Solomon Eagle.

Long after the sun had set, the sky was stained with crimson, and the grey walls of the city were tinged with rosy radiance.  The heat was intense, and Leonard, to cool himself, sat down in the thick grass—­for, though the crops were ready for the scythe, no mowers could be found—­and, gazing upwards, strove to mount in spirit from the tainted earth towards heaven.  After a while he arose, and proceeded towards the plague-pit.  The grass was trampled down near it, and there were marks of frequent cart-wheels upon the sod.  Great heaps of soil, thrown out of the excavation, lay on either side.  Holding a handkerchief steeped in vinegar to his face, Leonard ventured to the brink of the pit.  But even this precaution could not counteract the horrible effluvia arising from it.  It was more than half filled with dead bodies; and through the putrid and heaving mass many disjointed limbs and ghastly faces could be discerned, the long hair of women and the tiny arms of children appearing on the surface.  It was a horrible sight—­so horrible, that it possessed a fascination peculiar to itself, and, in spite of his loathing, Leonard lingered to gaze at it.  Strange and fantastic thoughts possessed him.  He fancied that the legs and arms moved—­that the eyes of some of the corpses opened and glared at him—­and that the whole rotting mass was endowed with animation.  So appalled was he by this idea that he turned away, and at that moment beheld a vehicle approaching.  It was the dead-cart, charged with a heavy load to increase the already redundant heap.

The same inexplicable and irresistible feelings of curiosity that induced Leonard to continue gazing upon the loathly objects in the pit, now prompted him to stay and see what would ensue.  Two persons were with the cart, and one of them, to Leonard’s infinite surprise and disgust, proved to be Chowles.  He had no time, however, for the expression of any sentiment, for the cart halted at a little distance from him, when its conductors, turning it round, backed it towards the edge of the pit.  The horse was then taken out, and Chowles calling to Leonard, the latter involuntarily knelt down to guide its descent, while the other assistant, who had proceeded to the further side of the chasm, threw the light of a lantern full upon the grisly load, which was thus shot into the gulf below.