Of late he had oftentimes been kept away by pressure of other duties.  Sometimes Dan had come in his stead.  Sometimes she had walked back alone and unmolested.  Persons avoided each other in the streets now, and hurried by with averted glances.  Although upon her homeward route, which was but short, she had as yet no infected houses to pass, she always hastened along half afraid to look about her.  But her father’s good counsel and his daily prayers for his household so helped her to keep up heart, that she had not yet been frightened from her occupation, although her mistress always declared on parting in the evening that she never expected to see her back in the morning.

“If the plague does not get you, some coward terror will.  Never mind; I can do without you, child.  I never looked for you to have kept so long at your post.  All the rest have fled long since.”

Which was true indeed, only Dorcas and the old couple who lived in the house still continuing their duties.  Fear of the pestilence had driven away the other servants, and they had sought safety on the other side of the water, where it was still believed infection would not spread.

“I will come back in the morning.  My father bids us all do our duty, and sets us the example, madam,” said Dorcas, as she prepared to take her departure.

It was a dark evening for the time of year; heavy thunderclouds were hanging low in the sky and obscuring the light.  The air was oppressive, and seemed charged with noxious vapours.  Part of this was due to the cloud of smoke wafted along from one of the great fires kept burning with the object of dispelling infection.  But Dorcas shivered as she stepped out into the empty street, and looked this way and that, hoping to see one of her brothers.  But nobody was in sight and she had just descended the steps and was turning towards her home when out from a neighbouring porch there swaggered a very fine young gallant, who made an instant rush towards her, with words of welcome and endearment on his lips.

In a moment Dorcas recognized him not only as the gallant who had addressed her once before, but also as Frederick Mason, her brothers’ old playfellow, of whom such evil things were spoken now by all their neighbours on the bridge.

Uttering a little cry of terror, the girl darted back, turned, and commenced running like a hunted hare in the opposite direction, careless where she went or what she did provided she only escaped from the address and advances of her pursuer.  But fleet as were her own steps, those in pursuit seemed fleeter.  She heard her tormentor coming after her, calling her by name and entreating for a hearing.  She knew that he was gaining upon her and must soon catch her up.  She was in a lonely street where not a single passerby seemed to be stirring.  She looked wildly round for some way of escape, and just at that moment saw a man come round a corner and fit a key into the door of one of the houses.