Disasters -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction; Science fiction; Short stories
"Spreading like that! By this time to-morrow we shall have a thousand
cases on our hands. The authorities are doing everything they can to
help us, fresh doctors and nurses and stores are coming in all the
time."
"You turn people out of their houses to make way then?"
Label smiled grimly. He laid his hand on Hubert's shoulder, and piloted
him into the roadway. The place seemed to be alive with cabs and
vehicles of all kinds. It was as if all the inhabitants of Devonshire
Park were going away for their summer holidays simultaneously. The
electric arcs shone down on white and frightened faces where joyous
gaiety should have been. Here and there a child slept peacefully, but
on the whole it was a sorry exodus.
[Illustration: It was if all the inhabitants of Devonshire Park were
going away for their summer holidays simultaneously.]
"There you are," Label said grimly. "It is a night flight from the
plague. It has been going on for hours. It would have been finished
now but for the difficulty in getting conveyances. Most of the cabmen
are avoiding the place as if it were accursed. But money can command
everything, hence the scene that you see before you."
Hubert stood silently watching the procession. There was very little
luggage on any of the cabs or conveyances. Families were going
wholesale. Devonshire Park for the most part was an exceedingly
prosperous district, so that the difficulties of emigration were not
great. In their panic the people were abandoning everything in the wild
flight for life and safety.
Then he went in again to rest before the unknown labours of to-morrow.
Next morning he anxiously opened his morning paper.
It was not particularly pleasant reading beyond the information that
the health of the Emperor of Asturia was mentioned, and that he had
passed a satisfactory night. As to the rest, the plague was spreading.
There were two hundred and fifty cases in Devonshire Park. Label's
sayings had come true at last; it was a fearful vindication of his
prophecy. And the worst of it was that no man could possibly say where
it was going to end.
* * * * *
Strange as it may seem, London's anxiety as to the welfare of one man
blinded all to the great common danger. For the moment Devonshire Park
was forgotten. The one centre of vivid interest was Buckingham Palace.
For three days crowds collected there until at length Label and his
colleagues were in a position to issue a bulletin that gave something
more than hope. The Emperor of Asturia was going to recover. Label was
not the kind of man to say so unless he was pretty sure of his ground.
It was not till this fact had soaked itself into the public mind that
attention was fully turned to the danger that threatened London.
Devonshire Park was practically in quarantine. All those who could get
away had done so, and those who had remained were confined to their own
particular district, and provisioned on a system. The new plague was
spreading fast.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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