Before entering the town we had still an adventure; for we came at a turn in the road on a scene as surprising as it was at first inexplicable. A little north of the town, in a coppice of box facing the south and west, we happed suddenly on a rude encampment, consisting of a dozen huts and booths, set back from the road and formed, some of branches of evergreen trees laid clumsily together, and some of sacking stretched over poles. A number of men and women of decent appearance lay on the short grass before the booths, idly sunning themselves; or moved about, cooking and tending fires, while a score of children raced to and fro with noisy shouts and laughter. The appearance of our party on the scene caused an instant panic. The women and children fled screaming into the wood, spreading the sound of breaking branches farther and farther as they retreated; while the men, a miserable pale-faced set, drew together, and seeming half-inclined to fly also, regarded us with glances of fear and suspicion.
Remarking that their appearance and dress were not those of vagrants, while the booths seemed to indicate little skill or experience in the builders, I bade my companions halt, and advanced alone.
‘What is the meaning of this, my men?’ I said, addressing the first group I reached. ‘You seem to have come a-Maying before the time. Whence are you?’
‘From Chateauroux,’ the foremost answered sullenly. His dress, now I saw him nearer, seemed to be that of a respectable townsman.
‘Why?’ I replied. ‘Have you no homes?’
‘Ay, we have homes,’ he answered with the same brevity.
‘Then why, in God’s name, are you here?’ I retorted, marking the gloomy air and downcast faces of the group. ‘Have you been harried?’
‘Ay, harried by the Plague!’ he answered bitterly. ‘Do you mean to say you have not heard? In Chateauroux there is one man dead in three. Take my advice, sir—you are a brave company—turn, and go home again.’
‘Is it as bad as that?’ I exclaimed. I had forgotten the landlord’s gossip, and the explanation struck me with the force of surprise.
‘Ay, is it! Do you see the blue haze?’ he continued, pointing with a sudden gesture to the lower ground before us, over which a light pall of summery vapour hung still and motionless. ‘Do you see it? Well, under that there is death! You may find food in Chateauroux, and stalls for your horses, and a man to take money; for there are still men there. But cross the Indre, and you will see sights worse than a battle-field a week old! You will find no living soul in house or stable or church, but corpses plenty. The land is cursed! cursed for heresy, some say! Half are dead, and half are fled to the woods! And if you do not die of the plague, you will starve.’