The roads leading from the town were filled with vehicles and people on foot, carrying bundles of belongings, all in flight before the pestilence. Those who kept in the city lighted fires in the streets, as the smoke and flame were said to have a killing effect on the plague. The burning of gunpowder was universally recommended; fowling-pieces, muskets, small ordnance, holster pistols, barked and roared and stuttered through the storm of bells, and the smoke of the fires. Tobacco was cherished as a foe to the disease by many, and was smoked and snuffed in quantities; garlic was considered unfriendly to the thing and was chewed and kept in the pockets and placed in the shoes; pitch was set alight in fire-shovels and carried smoking through dwellings to drive out the possible presence. [Illustration: "THE ROADS LEADING FROM THE TOWN WERE FILLED WITH VEHICLES AND PEOPLE ON FOOT."] "I cling to it," said Christopher Dent, as he labored in his laboratory, distilling and compounding the cures and preventatives most in demand, "that camphor is the most efficient and harmless agent in treatment of this disorder; unctuous, pellucid, bitterly aromatic, if inhaled it overcomes the poisons of the fever, and has a cooling effect upon the brain and blood." "Many keep to a remedy discovered by four French thieves," said Tom Horn. "These villains went about among the sick and dead while the plague ravaged Marseilles some years ago, never catching the disorder. When taken in their plundering they said the medicine had kept it from them, and bartered the secret for their liberty." "Rogues who would rob the dead would lie with little remorse," said Christopher. "And the thing is but a vinegar sprinkled upon the clothes. It may have a certain virtue, but I doubt the method of its use; to do good a medicine must be drunken, or inhaled directly, or taken up through the pores of the body. However, if a man comes to my shop who has faith in _vinaigre des quatre voleurs_, make it for him quickly, and of good materials." The number of people who left the city as the pestilence advanced was large; among them were government officials and doctors of medicine, whose fear was greater than their sense of duty. So thick was the flying horde along the roads that the outlying villages and towns were stirred with fright; sentinels were posted, weapons in their hands, to stem the advance. New York, in a panic, refused to allow the stricken port's shipping to come up to the city, forbade coaches to run between the two places, and appointed a day of fasting and prayer. The highways were abandoned by commerce; the mails were discontinued; armed guards were stationed at all the ferries, and patrolled the waterfronts.