s
trouble and want among the poor in the wretched alleys near Carew's
house: for fuel was high and food scarce, and there were many deaths, so
that the knell was tolling constantly.

Cicely cried until her eyes were red for the very sadness of it all,
since she might do nothing for them, and hated the sound of the
sullen bell.

"Pshaw, Cicely!" said Nick; "why should ye cry? Ye do na know them; so
ye need na care."

"But, Nick," said she, "_nobody_ seems to care! And, sure, _somebody_
ought to care; for it may be some one's mother that is dead."

At that Nick felt a very queer choking in his own throat, and did not
rest quite easy in his mind until he had given the silver buckle from
his cloak to a boy who stood crying with cold and hunger in the street,
and begged a farthing of him for the love of the good God.

Then came a thaw, with mist and fog so thick that people were lost in
their own streets, and knocked at their next-door neighbor's gate to ask
the way home. All day long, down by the Thames drums beat upon the
wharves and bells ding-donged to guide the watermen ashore; but most of
those who needs must fare abroad went over London Bridge, because
there, although they might in no wise see, it felt, at least, as if the
world were still beneath their feet.

At noon the air was muddy brown, with a bitter taste like watered smoke;
at night it was a blinding pall; and though, after mid-December, by
order of the Council, every alderman and burgess hung a light before his
door, torches, links, and candles only sputtered feebly in the gloom, of
no more use than jack-o'-lanterns gone astray, and none but blind men
knew the roads.

The city watch was doubled everywhere; and all night long their shouts
went up and down--"'Tis what o'clock, and a foggy night!"--and right and
left their hurrying staves came thumping helplessly along the walls to
answer cries of "Murder!" and of "Help! Watch! Help!" For under cover of
the fog great gangs of thieves came down from Hampstead Heath, and
robberies were done in the most frequented thoroughfares, between the
very lights set up by the corporation; so that it was dangerous to go
about save armed and wary as a cat in a crowd.

While such foul days endured there was no singing at St. Paul's, nor
stage-plays anywhere, save at Blackfriars play-house, which was roofed
against the weather. And even there at last the fog crept in through
cracks and crannies until the players seemed