Plague (3 page)

“I will lay these poultices on the swellings to draw the poison out,” he said. “When the cloths cool, make some more.”

He also gave Sam a bottle of medicine. “Give your master a spoonful of this twice a day.”

“Will it cure him?” Sam asked. He wished he could see the man's face.

“It may, if God wills it,” came the apothecary's muffled reply.

Sam went to Master Kemp's pot of coins in the workshop. He counted out the money to pay the apothecary, dropping the coins into a dish of vinegar on the counter to disinfect them.

“You know I must notify the authorities?” Master Burton said.

Sam nodded. His lower lip trembled. “They'll lock us in, won't they?”

“Yes. I'm sorry.”

“What about Alice, our maid? She won't be back till evening. “

Master Burton hesitated. “They'll let
her back in… if she asks.” He put a hand on Sam's shoulder. “God be with you, Sam.”

Soon after Master Burton left, two men came to shut up the house. They worked quickly, nailing closed the downstairs windows and the back door.

“Stop!” Sam protested. “Our maid will be back later!” He was trembling. They were going to leave him alone with his sick master. What if Master Kemp got worse? What if he died?

“We can't wait. It's not allowed,” one of them said. “You'll have a watchman outside, day and night, and he'll look after you. Do you have a basket, and some twine?”

Sam nodded.

“Tie it to your upper window frame and let it down when you need to bring anything in.”

The men shut the shop door behind them as they left, and then Sam heard banging and hammering and the rattle of a chain. He was seized with sudden terror. “No! No!” he screamed. “Let me out! Please!” He beat on the door with his fists. He heaved at it, but it would not open. How would Alice ever get back in? By now the men would be marking the door with the dreaded cross and the words, ‘Lord have mercy upon us'. He shouted and hammered
on it with his fists until they were bruised. Then, not knowing what else to do, he sank down on the floor and cried.

Through his tears he heard a distant barking and scrabbling. Budge! He ran to let the dog out of the storeroom. Budge jumped up at him and wagged his tail.

“Oh, Budge!” said Sam. He hugged the dog and buried his face in his fur.

5
Locked In

For the rest of that day William Kemp burned with a fever. Sam gave him sips of beer and made new hot poultices.

Even Budge seemed to know that something was wrong. He lay on his master's bed and guarded him, as if from an invisible enemy.

Sam longed for Alice to come back. “Where is she?” he asked Budge, stroking
the dog's ears for comfort. “Master Kemp is getting worse, and I don't know what to do.”

Outside, a rough-looking watchman was sitting in the street, a jug of beer at his side. This man would fetch anything Sam needed – food, or medicine. But it was Alice, with her friendly chatter and practical ways, that Sam really wanted.

A howl from the bed made him rush to his master's side. William Kemp was clawing at his clothes.

“The pain!” he gasped. “I can't bear it!”

He struggled out of bed and hurled himself around the room, banging his head against the walls.

“Master! Get back into bed!” begged Sam. “You'll hurt yourself.”

He struggled to restrain the sick man.

“Please!” Sam felt desperate.

At last he got William Kemp to lie down again. As he untied the neck of his master's night-shirt to help cool him, Sam saw to his horror that there was a purple rash across the man's chest. The tokens! He knew that once the tokens appeared, the sufferer did not have long to live.

Sam began to tremble. “Oh, Budge!” he cried. “Where is Alice? She should be home by now.”

He ran to the window.

“Watchman!” he called. “Have you seen our maid – Alice?”

The man shrugged.

“She was wearing a yellow gown.”

“Ah! Young woman, slim?”

“Yes!” said Sam.

“She came by, not long ago. I saw her staring up at your window. She was crying. At least, that's what it looked like. Asked her if she wanted anything, but she said no, she was on her way home. And off she went – double quick.”

“But – I need to see her – to tell her…”

“You won't see her again, I reckon.”

She can't have left us!
Sam thought.

He turned away from the window, and his voice shook as he said, “Master – Alice has left us! She's gone!”

William Kemp struggled to speak. “Don't blame her… Sam. Only a saint would come
back in. The cross… on the door…”

“But she didn't even say goodbye!” Sam wailed, unable to hold back his tears.

“Give me some medicine now,” said Master Kemp. “Then I'll sleep and let you rest.”

* * *

The next morning, when Sam went to check on Master Kemp, Budge growled at him. Sam saw, with a shock, that his master was dead. William Kemp lay with his eyes open, staring at nothing.

Sam murmured a prayer for his good master's soul. For a long time he sat on
the bed next to Budge, feeling lonely and sorrowful, knowing he should tell someone what had happened. Budge was warm, but William Kemp grew cold.

At last Sam called the watchman.

“The cart will come by around midday,” the man said. “Be ready with the corpse.”

Sam shuddered. He thought, I must make a shroud. And again he longed for Alice's help.

He used the bed sheet under William Kemp's body. Budge growled and bared his teeth. He didn't want anyone to touch his dead master. “Come on, Budge, please,” said Sam, as he moved the dog off the bed. “I don't want to do this, but I must.” Carefully,
he covered the body and tied the two ends of the sheet at the top and the bottom. As soon as he was done, Budge jumped back up and lay down against the shrouded figure.

Later, Sam heard cartwheels crashing over the cobbles.

“Bring out your dead!” a weary voice called.

Sam leaned out of the window and saw the cart already piled high with corpses.

“I can't lift him!” he shouted.

He heard someone at the door, opening the padlock. Budge's ears pricked up.

Two burly men came up the stairs, into the bedchamber. Budge stood guard over William Kemp's body, growling fiercely. One
of the men hit him and he yelped in pain.

“Don't!” Sam sprang forward to protect his dog.

“Hold onto him, then!”

Sam obeyed, and the two men grabbed the body and carried it down the stairs and out of the door. They tossed it into the cart along with the rest of the corpses.

Tears ran down Sam's face. Shutting Budge in the bedchamber, he hurried downstairs shouting, “Wait! Can I go with you to the churchyard?”

One of the men laughed. “Churchyard! The churchyard's full. We're going to the pit in Moorfields. You don't want to go there, son.”

“I do! I want –”

The door banged shut in his face.

“Forty days!” the men shouted, as the watchman locked Sam up again in the house. “And keep that dog in or the bounty men will get him.”

Forty days. Sam sat on the stairs. He had never felt more alone in his life. Forty days – and then, if he was still alive, what would they do with him? He'd end up back at the orphanage – or, more likely, at the Bridewell, which was little better than a prison.

One thing was certain. Wherever they sent him, they wouldn't let him keep Budge. And Budge was all he had left.

6
Escape

“Basket for you!”

Sam leaned out, and saw the watchman putting meat and a jug of beer into the basket. Carefully, he hauled it up. Budge watched, pacing about and wagging his tail. He knew the basket meant food for him, too.

The air outside was full of smoke from the bonfires burning to drive away the pestilence.

Sam noticed something else. “The bells
have stopped ringing!” he called to the watchman.

“Lord Mayor's orders! Good thing, too!”

Sam fed Budge some scraps of meat. “This is day eighteen,” he told the dog with a sigh. “Only another twenty-two days to go.”

Since William Kemp's death he had been marking the days on the kitchen wall. By now he felt sure he had not caught the plague.

He went into his master's deserted workshop and looked around. Pieces of shaped brown leather lay on the table, ready for stitching. On the shelves above were several pairs of finished shoes whose owners had never called for them. There were balls of twine, awls
and needles. None of it needed any more.

Like me
, thought Sam. I
'm not needed either. When my forty days are up they will let us out, send me away – and kill Budge. We have to escape!

But how? All the downstairs windows were nailed shut. Upstairs, the window in William Kemp's bedchamber overlooked the street, and the watchman sat below day and night. It would have to be the window in the little back room where Alice had slept.