" Sheppard's name operated like magic on the crowd. “Number 13, please, cabman. On a pallet in one corner lay a pale emaciated female. ToC About an hour after this, Jack ventured to emerge from his place of concealment. Locked! He sped out to the corridor and went swiftly into the next room. Arrived at her side, it was soon evident, from the throng of seamen in Dutch dresses that displayed themselves, that her crew were on the alert, and a rope having been thrown down to the skipper, he speedily hoisted himself on deck. So frightful, indeed, were the ravages of this malady, to which debtors and felons were alike exposed, that its miserable victims were frequently carried out by cart-loads, and thrown into a pit in the burial-ground of Christ-church, without ceremony. The summer arrived, speeding the Plague and with it the famine in the streets. ‘What, miss?’ asked Jack Kimble from behind her. The person caught hold of his arm, and, in spite of his efforts to disengage himself, detained him. ‘You said she was beautiful.
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