The tears were welling over now, but her voice was steady. And he departed, just as Wood, who had become alarmed by Thames's long absence, made his appearance with a blunderbuss in his hand. The summer arrived, speeding the Plague and with it the famine in the streets. ‘What are you going to do now, child?’ Melusine sighed away the last of her distress. The sing-song girl, her fiddle broken, was beating her forehead upon the floor and wailing: Ai, ai! Ai, ai! Spurlock—or Taber, as he called himself—sat slumped in a chair, staring with glazed eyes at nothing, absolutely uninterested in the confusion for which he was primarily accountable. Still, his conscience was partly satisfied. . Strange gurgle-like noises emanated from the crypt.
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