Ah, now he saw. The explanation was simple. How stupid of him not to have seen it at once! Of course the reason the river was the same, although it was now full of vessels and had buildings all along its banks, was because in all these vessels and in all these buildings there was not a single living soul. How could he have been so stupid as for even a moment to forget that wave of red wind which had come from the south and killed all living things in London? Yes, that had been a dreadful wind, and yet not so bad as it might have been, for it had killed all. How much more merciful to kill all than to leave some to mourn! Suppose he had been in London at the time, it would have been hard upon his mother and sister; much harder than if the whole family had been carried off together, for then they would have had no earthly sorrow, and would have entered at once upon their heavenly union hereafter. His mother and his sisters were all the people in the world who would grieve for him. He had no other relatives now. All his other relatives were dead, and he had no close friend, no friend who would say more than 'Poor Osborne!' in a passing kindly way. How strange he should have been selected to bring this woman lying down there beneath the skins from the coast of Jutland to the Thames, to the wharf under St Paul's! A moment ago he had thought not a living soul was to be found in all London. What an oversight! Of course there was this woman's husband. He had been sent on before. The sole man in all London was now waiting for his savage wife under St Paul's; and when that woman had been landed out of the canoe, and given over to her savage husband, once more would provision be made for the peopling of London. This savage pair would inherit this vast London, with all its palaces, and ships, and warehouses, and churches. They were destined to be the first parents of the future people of the city. He wondered what this savage woman was like. Hideous, no doubt--hideous, with high cheek-bones and fat flat face. No doubt she was painted too, and had a necklace of shells or fish-bones. He was glad she slept so well. It would have been a dreadful thing to look at such a loathsome creature. Fancy his disgust at being obliged to spend all this time in view of a savage woman, he who had such an intense yearning after the beautiful--he whose life had hitherto been spent with Shakespeare in Stratford-on-Avon, and in the forests of Arden surrounding that town. Intolerable! When he had landed this unhandsome freight he should at once leave this death-stricken city, and go back to Stratford and Shakespeare and the forests of Arden. Ah! here was St Paul's clearly visible at last. His labours were nearly at an end. It was twilight dawn. All the objects on the river and shore were dimly visible.