at hand, and she was about to lose the fruit of all her labours, when

pestilence came to change the aspect of the world. Her husband reaped

benefit from the universal misery; but, as the disaster encreased, the

spirit of lawlessness seized him; he deserted his home to revel in the

luxuries promised him in London, and found there a grave. Her former lover

had been one of the first victims of the disease. But Lucy continued to

live for and in her mother. Her courage only failed when she dreaded peril

for her parent, or feared that death might prevent her from performing

those duties to which she was unalterably devoted.

When we had quitted Windsor for London, as the previous step to our final

emigration, we visited Lucy, and arranged with her the plan of her own and

her mother's removal. Lucy was sorry at the necessity which forced her to

quit her native lanes and village, and to drag an infirm parent from her

comforts at home, to the homeless waste of depopulate earth; but she was

too well disciplined by adversity, and of too sweet a temper, to indulge in

repinings at what was inevitable.

Subsequent circumstances, my illness and that of Idris, drove her from our

remembrance; and we called her to mind at last, only to conclude that she

made one of the few who came from Windsor to join the emigrants, and that

she was already in Paris. When we arrived at Rochester therefore, we were

surprised to receive, by a man just come from Slough, a letter from this

exemplary sufferer. His account was, that, journeying from his home, and

passing through Datchet, he was surprised to see smoke issue from the

chimney of the inn, and supposing that he should find comrades for his

460

The Last Man