Forever Amber полностью

But she was not content merely with preventing the plague. For she realized sensibly, that in spite of all precautions one sometimes got it, and she began to stock the cupboards with remedies for curing the sickness. She bought James Angier’s famous fumigant of brimstone and saltpetre, as well as gunpowder, nitre, tar and resin to disinfect the air. She bought all the recommended herbs, angelica, rue, pimpernel, gentian, juniper berries, and dozens more. She had a chestful of medicines which included Venice treacle, dragon water, and a bottle of cow-dung mixed with vinegar.

Amber was inclined to be amused by all these frantic preparations. An astrologer had told her that 1665 would be a lucky year for her, and her almanac did not warn her of plague or any other disease. Anyway it was true, for the most part, that only the poor were dying in their crowded dirty slums.

“Mrs. de Lacy’s leaving town tomorrow,” said Nan one morning as she brushed Amber’s hair.

“Well, what if she is? Mrs. de Lacy’s a chicken-hearted old simpleton who’d squeak at the sight of a mouse.”

“She’s not the only one, mam, you know that. Plenty of others are leaving too.”

“The King isn’t leaving, is he?” They had had this same argument every day for the past two weeks, and Amber was growing tired of it.

“No, but he’s the King and couldn’t catch the sickness if he tried. I tell you, mam, it’s mighty dangerous to stay. Not five minutes’ walk away—just at the top of Drury Lane—there’s a house been shut up. I’m getting scared, mam! Lord, I don’t want to die—and I shouldn’t think you would either!”

Amber laughed. “Well, then, Nan—if it gets any worse we’ll leave. But there’s no use fretting your bowels to fiddle-strings.” She had no intention at all of leaving before Bruce arrived.

On the 3rd of June the English and Dutch fleets engaged just off Lowestoft, and the sound of their guns carried back to London. They could be heard, very faintly, like swallows fluttering in a chimney.

By the 8th it was known that the English had been victorious —twenty-four Dutch ships had been sunk or captured and almost 10,000 Dutchmen killed or taken prisoner, while no more than 700 English seamen had been lost. The rejoicing was hysterical. Bonfires blazed along every street and a mob of merrymakers broke the French Ambassador’s windows because there was no fire in front of his house. King Charles was the greatest king, the Duke of York the greatest admiral England had ever known—and everyone was eager to continue the fight, wipe out the Dutch and rule all the seas on earth.

The red crosses had now entered the gates of the City.

Nan came in a few days later with a bill-of-mortality in her hand. “Mam!” she cried. “Mam! There was 112 died last week of the sickness!”

Amber was entertaining Lord Buckhurst and Sir Charles Sedley who—along with the other gentlemen—had just returned from sea, all of them sunburnt heroes. Nan stopped on the threshold in surprise to find them there.

“Oh,” she said. “I’m sorry, gentlemen.” She made a curtsy.

“Never mind, Mrs. Nan. Damn me, Sedley! She’s as pretty as ever, isn’t she? But what’s this? Sure you’re not worried about the plague?”

“Oh, but I am, sir! I’m scared out of my wits! And all these other things they’ve got marked! I’ll warrant you at least half of ‘em died of the plague!” She began to read from the fresh-printed bill, for they were scarcely off the press before Nan had one. “Griping of the guts—3! Worms—5! Fits—2! How do we know those weren’t all the plague too and not reported by the searcher because somebody greased ’em in the fist to give another cause of the death!”

Amber and the two men laughed but Nan was so excited she began to choke on the gold-piece she had in her mouth and ran out of the room. Only nine days later, however, the Queen and her ladies set out for Hampton Court, and the gentlemen intended to follow very shortly. Buckhurst and some of the others who had heard of her inheritance tried to persuade Amber to go along, but she refused.

Then at last, very much to Nan’s relief, she began to make preparations for leaving town herself. She had the maids begin packing her clothes, and most of her jewellery she took to Shadrac Newbold, for she did not want to carry it about the countryside with her and had no idea as to where she would go. She found the street before his house crowded with carts and wagons and all the household in a turmoil.

“It’s fortunate you came today, Mrs. Dangerfield,” he told her. “I’m leaving town tomorrow myself. But I had assumed you were in the country with the rest of the family. They left at least a fortnight ago.” The Dangerfields had a country home in Dorsetshire.

“I don’t live at Dangerfield House any more. I think I’ll take just a hundred pound. That should be enough, don’t you think?”

“I think so. The ways will be more crowded than ever with highwaymen. And the plague must be near spent by now. Excuse me a moment, madame.”