This might be the critical moment when succour
was most needed and would be most efficacious. I had previously concluded to defer going thither till the ensuing
morning; but why should I allow myself a moment's delay? I might at
least gain an external view of the house, and circumstances might arise
which would absolve me from the obligation of remaining an hour longer
in the city. All for which I came might be performed; the destiny of
Wallace be ascertained; and I be once more safe within the precincts of
_Malverton_ before the return of day. I immediately directed my steps towards the habitation of Thetford. Carriages bearing the dead were frequently discovered. A few passengers
likewise occurred, whose hasty and perturbed steps denoted their
participation in the common distress. The house of which I was in quest
quickly appeared. Light from an upper window indicated that it was still
inhabited. I paused a moment to reflect in what manner it became me to proceed. To
ascertain the existence and condition of Wallace was the purpose of my
journey. He had inhabited this house; and whether he remained in it was
now to be known. I felt repugnance to enter, since my safety might, by
entering, be unawares and uselessly endangered. Most of the neighbouring
houses were apparently deserted. In some there were various tokens of
people being within. Might I not inquire, at one of these, respecting
the condition of Thetford's family? Yet why should I disturb them by
inquiries so impertinent at this unseasonable hour? To knock at
Thetford's door, and put my questions to him who should obey the signal,
was the obvious method. I knocked dubiously and lightly. No one came. I knocked again, and more
loudly; I likewise drew the bell. I distinctly heard its distant peals. If any were within, my signal could not fail to be noticed. I paused,
and listened, but neither voice nor footsteps could be heard. The light,
though obscured by window-curtains, which seemed to be drawn close, was
still perceptible. I ruminated on the causes that might hinder my summons from being
obeyed. I figured to myself nothing but the helplessness of disease, or
the insensibility of death. These images only urged me to persist in
endeavouring to obtain admission. Without weighing the consequences of
my act, I involuntarily lifted the latch. The door yielded to my hand,
and I put my feet within the passage. Once more I paused. The passage was of considerable extent, and at the
end of it I perceived light as from a lamp or candle. This impelled me
to go forward, till I reached the foot of a staircase. A candle stood
upon the lowest step. This was a new proof that the house was not deserted. I struck my heel
against the floor with some violence; but this, like my former signals,
was unnoticed. Having proceeded thus far, it would have been absurd to
retire with my purpose uneffected. Taking the candle in my hand, I
opened a door that was near. It led into a spacious parlour, furnished
with profusion and splendour. I walked to and fro, gazing at the objects
which presented themselves; and, involved in perplexity, I knocked with
my heel louder than ever; but no less ineffectually. Notwithstanding the lights which I had seen, it was possible that the
house was uninhabited. This I was resolved to ascertain, by proceeding
to the chamber which I had observed, from without, to be illuminated. This chamber, as far as the comparison of circumstances would permit me
to decide, I believed to be the same in which I had passed the first
night of my late abode in the city. Now was I, a second time, in almost
equal ignorance of my situation, and of the consequences which impended,
exploring my way to the same recess. I mounted the stair. As I approached the door of which I was in search,
a vapour, infectious and deadly, assailed my senses. It resembled
nothing of which I had ever before been sensible. Many odours had been
met with, even since my arrival in the city, less supportable than this. I seemed not so much to smell as to taste the element that now
encompassed me. I felt as if I had inhaled a poisonous and subtle fluid,
whose power instantly bereft my stomach of all vigour. Some fatal
influence appeared to seize upon my vitals, and the work of corrosion
and decomposition to be busily begun. For a moment, I doubted whether imagination had not some share in
producing my sensation; but I had not been previously panic-struck; and
even now I attended to my own sensations without mental discomposure. That I had imbibed this disease was not to be questioned. So far the
chances in my favour were annihilated. The lot of sickness was drawn. Whether my case would be lenient or malignant, whether I should recover
or perish, was to be left to the decision of the future. This incident,
instead of appalling me, tended rather to invigorate my courage. The
danger which I feared had come. I might enter with indifference on this
theatre of pestilence. I might execute, without faltering, the duties
that my circumstances might create. My state was no longer hazardous;
and my destiny would be totally uninfluenced by my future conduct. The pang with which I was first seized, and the momentary inclination to
vomit, which it produced, presently subsided. My wholesome feelings,
indeed, did not revisit me, but strength to proceed was restored to me. The effluvia became more sensible as I approached the door of the
chamber. The door was ajar; and the light within was perceived. My
belief that those within were dead was presently confuted by sound,
which I first supposed to be that of steps moving quickly and timorously
across the floor. This ceased, and was succeeded by sounds of different
but inexplicable import. Having entered the apartment, I saw a candle on the hearth. A table was
covered with vials and other apparatus of a sick-chamber. A bed stood on
one side, the curtain of which was dropped at the foot, so as to conceal
any one within. I fixed my eyes upon this object. There were sufficient
tokens that some one lay upon the bed. Breath, drawn at long intervals;
mutterings scarcely audible; and a tremulous motion in the bedstead,
were fearful and intelligible indications. If my heart faltered, it must not be supposed that my trepidations arose
from any selfish considerations. Wallace only, the object of my search,
was present to my fancy. Pervaded with remembrance of the Hadwins; of
the agonies which they had already endured; of the despair which would
overwhelm the unhappy Susan when the death of her lover should be
ascertained; observant of the lonely condition of this house, whence I
could only infer that the sick had been denied suitable attendance; and
reminded, by the symptoms that appeared, that this being was struggling
with the agonies of death; a sickness of the heart, more insupportable
than that which I had just experienced, stole upon me. My fancy readily depicted the progress and completion of this tragedy.