“Well, then,” said he, “just give me a Drink of Water, or Anything liquid you can find; for I have had Nothing but what I could help myself to, these twenty-four Hours. My Throat is so bad, I cannot swallow Anything solid.... Oh! Oh!—” And as he held back his Throat to drink, I noticed the Plague Swellings.
“That will do nicely, now,” sighed he, when I had smoothed his Pillow; “and now go, I prithee, dear Cherry, and look after poor Dorcas, who, I fear, must be dead or dying somewhere about the House.”
So I did as he bade me; and, as I knew she was not on the Floor below, I went in quest of her up Stairs. Dorcas had lived with Master Blower ever since he commenced Housekeeping; and had had the Help of a younger Maid, who now, it seemed, had left, or died. She was a Widow-woman in her third score, eccentric, like her Master, in some Matters; but withal, of the sweetest, pleasantest Countenance! and of pleasant Conditions too, so that they were well matched. She preferred being called Mistress Peach; but Master Blower liked calling her Dorcas, and carried his Point.
I found her in the upper Story, lying all across her Bed, dressed, but more dead than alive. “Alas! young Woman,” says she.... “What! is it Mistress Cherry? Heaven be praised! How is my Master? Doth he live yet?”
I said, Yes, and I hoped was going on well.
“Ah,” says she, “I left him at Death’s Door, but could no longer keep about myself; so, set him straight as well as I could, and then crawled up here, thinking to bundle my Mattress down Stairs, and at all events die within hearing of him. But ’twas quite beyond my Strength.... I fell all along, and here I’ve been ever since.”
Then she began to groan terribly, but I made her as comfortable as I could, dressed her Throat, persuaded her to swallow a little cooling Drink, and loosened her Clothes; all which she took very thankfully, but then became restless about her Master, and prayed me to go down to him, for he wanted me more than she did.
So I returned to Master Blower, whom I now found a good deal more suffering and feverish than when I left him, and beginning to toss about. I quite gave up all Intention of leaving the House, yet thought Violet might be uneasy about me; therefore I stepped down to beg the Watchman to send a Message to her; but found the House-door locked.
On my rapping against it and calling, he unlocked it and looked in. “Hallo, young Woman,” says he, “how came you here?”
“I stepped in while you were asleep,” said I, “the Door being ajar.”