“Surely,” thought she, “the cordon will let me walk on the moor in the afternoons, if I go where I cannot infect any body. With a walk in such places as these every day, I am sure I could go through any thing.” This seemed very rational beforehand. It never entered Mary’s head that for a long while to come, she should never once have leisure for a walk. “Yon’s the cordon,” said the post-boy, at last, pointing with his whip. “What do you understand by a cordon?” “Them people that you may see there. I don’t know why they call them so; for I don’t hear that they do anything with a cord.” “Perhaps it is because there is a French word—_cordon_—that means any thing that encloses any other thing. They would call your hat band a cordon, and an officer’s sash, and a belt of trees round a park. So, I suppose these people surround poor Bleaburn and let nobody out.” “May be so,” said the man, “but I don’t see why we should go to the French for our words or anything else, when we have everything better of our own. For my part, I shall be beholden to the French for no word, now I know of it. I shall call them people the watch, or something of that like.” “I think I will call them messengers,” said Mary: “and that will sound least terrible to the people below. They do go on errands, do not they,—and take and send parcels and messages?” “They are paid to do it, Miss: but they put it upon one another, or get out of the way, if they can,—they are so afraid of the fever, you see.——I think we must stop here, please, Miss. I could go a little nearer, only, you see—.” “I see that you are afraid of the fever too,” said Mary, with a smile, as she jumped out upon the grass. One of the sentinels was within hail. Glad of the relief from the dulness of his watch, he came with alacrity, took charge of the little trunk, and offered to show the lady, from the brow, the way down the hollow to the village. The post-boy stood, with his money in his hand, watching the retreating lady, till, under a sudden impulse, he hailed her. Looking round, she saw him running towards her, casting a momentary glance back at his horses. He wanted to try once more to persuade her to return to O——. He should be so happy to drive her back, out of the way of danger. His employer would be so glad to see her again! When he perceived that it was no use talking, he went on touching his hat, while he begged her to take back the shilling she had just given him. It would make his mind easier, he said, not to take money for bringing any lady to such a place. Mary saw that this was true; and she took back the shilling, promising that it should be spent in the service of some poor sick person.