The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1893-01-22

man. Mr.. inseriield is going to be there for
Il day or two.'
Then Anne sits in the great empty draw
ing-room, and takes her turn at thinking.
John lngerield finds on his return to
Limehouse that the evil has greatly in
creased during the short time he has been
away. Famed by fear and ignorance. fed
by poverty and dirt, the scourRe is
fire. Long smoldering in secret. 1t has
burst forth at fifty different points NJ
once. Not street. not court, but has
Its case" over dozen of Johns
hands are down with it already. Two
more have sunk PROSTATE beside their
work. within the last hour. The panic
grows grewsome Men and women tear
their clothes of. looking to see If they
have anywhere upon them rash or q
patch OF notified skin, find that they have,
screaming. half undressed into the street.
Two men, meeting in narrow passage.
both rush back. too frightened TO pass each
other. boy stooDs down and scratches
his leg-not an action tn at under ordinary
circumstances would excite much surprise
in that neigh borboOd. In az instant there
Is wild stamped from the room. the
strong trampling on the weak In their
eagerness TO escape.
These are not the days of organized de.
Tense against disease. There are kind
hearts and willing hands in London town,
but they are not yet closely enough banded
together TO meet a swift foe snch IS this.
There are hospitals and charities galore.
but these are mostly in the city, main
tanned by the city fathers for the exclusive
benefit OF poor citizens and members OF the
guilds. The few free hospitals are al
ready overorowded and ill;prepared;
Squalid outlying Limehouse, belonging TO
nowhere. cared for by nobody. must tight
for itself.
John Ingerfield calls the older men TO-
Rether. and with their help attempts to In
still some sense and reason into his terrified
people. Standing on the step OF his count
as are not too scared to lIsten, he tells them
of the danger of tear and of the necessity
for calmness and courage.
I'VE must face and fight this thing like
men," he cries in that deep. din-conquering
voice that has served the lngerhelds In
good stead on many a steel-swept field, on
many q storm-struck sea: there must be
no c0wardly selfishness, no faint-hearted
despair. Ii we've got to die we'll die; but.
please God. we'll live. Anyhow, we will
stick together and help each other. mean
to stop here with you. and do what can
for You. None Of my people shall want"
John lngertield ceases, and as the yibra-
tlons of his strong tones roll away. sweet
voice from besides him rises clear and firm.
II have come down to be with you. also.
and TO help my husband. shall take
charge of the nursing and tending of your
sick. and hope snail be of some real use
Il
you in your trouble. L know you Will be
brave and patient. We will all do our best
and be hopeful"
He turns, half ex pectine TO see only the
empty air, and to wonder at the delirium
In his brain. She puts her hand in his and
their eyes meet; and, In that moment for
the first time In their lives, these two see
one another
They speak no word. There is no oppor-
tunity for words. There is work TO be
md dn nI In and Ann ma
it with the greed of q woman long hungry
for the joy of doing. As John watches
her moving swiftly and quietly
through the bewlldered throng, ques-
the thought comes to hun, ought he allow
her TO be here. risking her life for his peo-
pie; followed by the thought. how is he go
ing to prevent Ut For in this hour the
knowledge is born within him that Anne Is
not his property; that he aud she are fellow
hands taking their orders from the same
Master; that though it be we'll for them to
work together and help each other, they
must not hinder one another.
AS yet John does not understand all this.
The idea is new and strange to him. He
feels as the child in fairy story on sud-
denly discovering that the trees and flow
ers he has passed by carelessly a thousand
times can tbeIk and talk. Once he whis-
pers TO her or the labor and the danger but
she answers simply, They are my people,
too. John; IL is my work." and he let's her
have her way.
Anne has q true woman's instinct for
nursing. aud her atrong sense stands her
instead OF experience. A glance into one
two of the squalid dens where these peo-
pie live tells her that If her patients are to
be saved they mast be nursed away from
their own homes, and she determines to
convert the large counting hOuse-a long,
lofty room at the opposite end of the wharf
TO the refnery-lnto temporary hospital.
Selecting some seven or eight of the most
reliable women to assist her. she proceeds to
prepare 1t for Its purpose. Led gers might
be volumes of poetry. bills of ladinR. mere
street ballads for oil the respect that is
shown to them. The older clerks stand
staring aghast. feeling that the end of all
thing is surely at hand, and that the uni
verse Is rushing down into space. UNTIL
their idieness being detected, they are
themselves promptly impressed for the
sacrlegious work. and made to assist in
she demolition of their own temple.
Anne's commands are spoken very sweet.
ly, and are accompanied by the sweetest
of smiles, but they are nevertheless CON-
mands. and somehow 1t does not occur to
anyone to disobey them. John-stern,
masterful. authoritative John, who has
never been approached with anything more
dlesator'aa than iafr Msrot sm,d request
have thougtS that something bad sud.
denly gone wrong with the laws of
nature If he had been-finds himself hurry
ing along the street on his way to drug
gIst's shop. slackening his pace an instant
TO ask himself why and wherefore he is 10
ing so. recOllects that he was told TO do So
and TO make haste back marvels W no could
have dared to tell him 10 do anything, and
TO make haste back, rememb erc that il was
Anne is not quite sure what to think about
it. but hurries on.
He makes haste back" is praised for
having been so quick. and feels pleased
with himself is sent off in another direc-
ton with instructions what to soy when he
gets there. He starts OFT The ~ becoming
used to being ordered aboutnow). Half
there. great alarm seiZes him. for on at
tempting to say over the message to himself
to be sure that he has IL quite right he dis
covers he has forgotten it. He psuses,
nervous and excited; cogitates as to
whether il will be safe for him TO concocr O
message of his own, weighs anxiously the
chances-supposing that he does so-of be-
ing found ont. Suddenly, to his intense
surprise and relief. every word of what he
was told TO say comes back TO him. and he
hastens on. repeating it over and over to
himself as he walks lest IL should escape
him again.
And then a few hundred Yards further on
there occurs one OF the most extraordina airy
street before or since: John Inger;ield
laughs.
John InQerfeld, of Lavender Wharf.
after walking two-thirds of Creek lane,
mutterng to himself, with his eyes on tho
around, stops in the middle of the road and
laughs; ana one small boy. who tells the
story 10 his dying day. sees him and hears
him. and runs home at the top of his speed
with tho wonderful news. and Is consclen-
t...A n