“Diminish! think’st thou God’s judgment on iniquity passeth away so lightly? Nay, it increases hour by hour. It begins to advance eastward, as they tell me. Citizens are flying from the wealthiest houses in the city; the magistrates are concerting severe means of prevention, binding the flame with flaxen band. Men talk fearfully of some plan for shutting up the infected houses; yet who can tell? What are such precautions as these against the fierce flame of the Almighty’s anger?” “Yet it is right to use all means,” said Field, mildly “and Edith and I are scarce taking the best for our own comfort after our journey, and we keep you from your companion, Master Vincent.” “A singular youth,” said the preacher, hurriedly, the twitching of his upper lip giving him, while he spoke, an unusual expression of melancholy earnestness, as he glanced at the young man, who stood respectfully out of hearing behind; “the enemy trieth him with strong delusions, persuading him that he hath committed the sin unto death. I have made him my special charge. He is like that young ruler whom the Lord loved; I hope well of the lad. I ask thee not to my lodging, brother Field, for the pestilence is near me. Good even, and peace and our Father’s presence be with you. I will see you again ere long.” They passed on. Along the street, thrusting the very few passengers on the footpath aside in his precipitous career, a man thinly clad, with horror in his pale face and wild eyes, came dashing forward. They heard his cry indistinctly before he approached. “What is it, father, what is it?” whispered Edith, fearfully. She thought him some unhappy lunatic escaped from confinement. But the passers-by showed no signs of terror; they looked at him with compassionate eyes; they uttered ejaculations of prayer, strange to hear in that public place and time. The unhappy wanderer rushed on, uttering his sharp, monotonous cry: “Oh! the great and terrible God!” and men looked on in solemn quietness, not marveling. The healthful blood ran cold in the young veins of Edith Field. What cries were these for the streets of a mighty city!