Her father was the only person who had eyes to notice her approach, and he strode forward and took her by the hands as though to keep her away.

“Child, thou must not come here.  Thy brother has been in a terrible danger—­half strangled by a creature raving in the delirium of the distemper.  It may be death to approach him even now.  I would have had thy mother keep away.  Come not thou near to him.  Let us not increase the peril which besets us.”

Gertrude stood quite still, neither resisting her father, nor yet yielding to the pressure which would have forced her from the room.

“Dear sir,” she said, with dutiful reverence, “I must fain submit to thee in this thing.  Yet I prithee keep me not from my brother in the hour of his extremity.  Methinks that a more terrible thing than the plague itself is the cruel fear which it inspires, whereby families are rent asunder, and the sick are neglected and deserted in the hour of their utmost need.  If indeed Frederick should fall a victim, this house will be straitly shut up; and if it be true what men say, the infection will spread through it, do what we will to keep it away.  Then what can it matter whether the risk be a little more or less?  Is it not better that I should be with my mother and my brother, than that I should seek my own safety by shutting myself up apart from all, a readier prey to grief and terror?  Methinks I should the sooner fall ill thus shut away from all.  Prithee let me take my place beside Frederick, and relieve my mother when she be weary; so do I think it will be best for me and her.”

The father’s face quivered with emotion as he took his daughter in his arms and kissed her tenderly.

“Thou shalt do as thou wilt, my sweet child,” he said.  “These indeed are fearful days, and it may be that happier are they who let their heart be ruled by love instead of by fear.  Fear has become a cruel thing, from what men tell us.  Thou shalt do thy desire.  Yet methinks thy brother has scarce deserved this grace at thy hands.”

“Let us not think of that,” said Gertrude, with a look of pain in her eyes; “let us only think of his peril, and of the terrible retribution which may fall upon him.  God grant that he may find repentance and peace at the last!”

“Amen!” said the Master Builder, with some solemnity, thinking of the fashion in which his son’s time had been spent of late, and of the very escapade which had brought this evil upon him.

All that night mother and sister watched beside the bed of the unhappy young man, who moaned and tossed, and too often broke into blasphemous railings at the fate which had overtaken him.  He gave himself up for lost from the first, and having no hope or real belief as regards the future life, was full of darkness and bitterness of heart.  He would not so much as listen when Gertrude would have spoken to him of the Saviour’s love for sinners, but answered with mocking and profane words which made her heart die within her.