There was nothing very noticeable on the way, but the vast amazement expressed by all who found that we were going up to London. And as we got nearer our journey's end, we began to find that the inn-keepers distrusted us not a little, suspecting us of escaping out of the town, and making only a false pretence of journeying up to it. Will, however, was so plainly a blunt, simple fellow, that his word was taken where ours was doubted. Now and then we heard news of the war: first there was talk of a great victory at sea over the Dutch, won the third day of June, at which the Court and City were rejoicing mightily, half forgetting their home perils; then came contrary news, how this victory was no victory, but rather a disgrace to us, and that our ships were shamefully commanded, which I believe was the truer tale; so my thoughts flew at once to my Harry and his father. I had writ to Mr. Truelocke about our journey, but there had been no time for an answer; and I fell to musing what those two would think of our wild adventure, and wondering if Harry had been seized for the king's service, like many others; but all was vain conjecture, and I had to resign them and myself up to God's guidance; the safest and most blessed way, as I was fast learning; for since Aunt Golding's death I think a change had come over me; I had learned a true hate of mine own sins, and had found One in whose sufficiency I could trust to save me from them, and to guide me in all things. I will not enlarge on this now, however. So with hopes and fears, despairing and trusting, the days of travel wore away; and late in a sultry summer evening we came into London. We put up for the night at a decent inn, kept by some people named Bell, which our father had sometimes used when we were with him; the people remembered him, and were civil to us. My poor sister could scarce sleep all that night; and the landlady coming herself to wait on us at breakfast, Althea took occasion to ask her, did she know Mr. John Dacre? and finding she did, she got from her particular information about his house, and the way to it, and the hours when he was to be found there; all which the good woman imparted cheerfully, but could not help pitying our rashness in coming up to town. 'I live a dying life,' she said, 'for terror of the contagion; I would never have run into it;' which words we passed over at that time, but had to call them to mind after. According to her information, Mr. Dacre rarely stirred from home before noon; so we set off betimes to find him. Will, walking behind us, looked about in amaze at the half empty streets, the many closed shops, and houses uninhabited, and at last, fetching a great sigh, he said,-- 'Methinks, mistresses, this whole town looks like a gaol, and the folk go about like condemned prisoners.'