"Is there anything I can do for you, madame?" began Ormiston, with as solicitous an air as though he had been her father."Aglass of wine would be of use to you, I think, and then, if you wish, I will go for a doctor.""You are very kind.You will find wine and glasses in the room opposite this, and I feel so faint that I think you had better bring me some."Ormiston moved across the passage, like the good, obedient young man that he was, filled a glass of Burgundy, and as he was returning with it, was startled by s cry from the lady that nearly made him drop and shiver it on the floor.
"What under heaven has come to her now?" he thought, hastening in, wondering how she could possibly have come to grief since he left her.
She was sitting upright on the sofa, her dress palled down off her shoulder where the plague-spot had been , and which, to his amazement, he saw now pure and stainless, and free from every loathsome trace.
"You are cured of the plague!" was all he could say.
"Thank God!" she exclaimed, fervently clasping her hands."But oh! how can it have happened? It mast be a miracle!""No, it was your plunge into the river; I have heard of one or two such cases before, and if ever I take it," said Ormiston, half laughing, half shuddering, "my first rush shall be for old Father Thames.Here, drink this, I am certain it will complete the cure."The girl - she was nothing but a girl - drank it off and sat upright like one inspired with new life.As she set down the glass, she lifted her dark, solemn, beautiful eyes to his face with a long, searching gaze.
"What is your name?" she simply asked.
"Ormiston, madame," he said, bowing low.
"You have saved my life, have you not?"
"It was the Earl of Rochester who reserved you from the river;but I would have done it a moment later.""I do not mean that.I mean" - with a slight shudder - "are you not one of those I saw at the plague-pit? Oh! that dreadful, dreadful plague-pit!" she cried, covering her face with her hands.
"Yes.I am one of those."
"And who was the other?"
"My friend, Sir Norman Kingsley.
"Sir Norman Kingsley?" she softly repeated, with a sort of recognition in her voice and eyes, while a faint roseate glow rose softly over her face and neck.Ah! I thought - was it to his house or yours I was brought?""To his," replied Ormiston, looking at her curiously; for he had seen that rosy glow, and was extremely puzzled thereby; "from whence, allow me to add, you took your departure rather unceremoniously.""Did I?" she said, in a bewildered sort of way."It is all like a dream to me.I remember Prudence screaming, and telling me Ihad the plague, and the unutterable horror that filled me when Iheard it; and then the next thing I recollect is, being at the plague-pit, and seeing your face and his bending over me.All the horror came back with that awakening, and between it and anguish of the plague-sore I think I fainted again." (Ormiston nodded sagaciously), "and when I next recovered I was alone in a strange room, and in bed.I noticed that, though I think I must have been delirious.And then, half-mad with agony, I got out to the street, somehow and ran, and ran, and ran, until the people saw and followed me here.I suppose I had some idea of reaching home when I came here; but the crowd pressed so close behind, and I felt though all my delirium, that they would bring me to the pest-house if they caught me, and drowning seemed to me preferable to that.So I was in the river before I knew it - and you know the rest as well as I do.But I owe you my life, Mr.
