“Yes, but don’t trouble yourself about it. I got a certificate for you when I got mine and Nan’s and all the others. Even Susanna had to have one. And what a bother it was! The streets were packed for a half-mile around the Lord Mayor’s house. I think everyone in town is leaving.”
“If they issue them for people they’ve never seen they can’t be worth much.”
Amber held out her hand, rubbing her thumb and first two fingers suggestively together. “For enough money they’d give a dead man a certificate-of-health. I offered them fifty pound for the lot and they didn’t ask a question.” She paused. “I’m mighty rich now, you know.”
He sat slumped low, as though every muscle was tired, but he gave her a faint smile. “So you are. And is it as pleasant as you’d expected?”
“Oh, much more! Lord, everyone wants to marry me now! Buckhurst and Talbot and I can’t think how many others. What a pleasure it was to laugh in their faces!” She laughed now, thinking of it, and there was a malicious sparkle in her eyes. “Oh, gad, but it’s a fine thing to be rich!”
“Yes,” he agreed. “I suppose it is.”
Both of them were silent for a few minutes and then he said, “I wonder how long this plague will last.”
“Why?”
“Well, I’d hoped to be back at sea in another month—but the men won’t sign now. And anyway it would be foolish—they’ve found some Dutch ships with everyone aboard dead.”
Amber did not reply, but she felt that if there must be a plague at all it could not have happened more to her advantage.
When they reached her lodging-house she ran on up the stairs ahead of him, full of a trembling eager excitement. Sometimes she felt that moments like this one were almost compensation enough for the long periods of time when she did not see him at all. Such wild frantic happiness, ecstasy that was almost torture, pleasures that racked and exhausted—these things could be no everyday occurrence, no matter how truly you loved. They fed on loneliness and longing, and came to full blossom over slow months of separation.
She unlocked the door and flung it open, then turned about quickly to face him.
But he was still only halfway up the staircase, mounting it with slow heavy steps that were strangely and almost frighteningly unlike him. As he reached the top he paused for just an instant, one hand lifting as if to touch her, but he did not and walked on, into the parlour. A cold wet chill went over her and for a moment Amber stood, sick with disappointment, staring at the wall. She turned slowly then and saw him drop wearily into a chair, and at that moment her selfish feeling of jilted expectation was gone in a shock of horror.
He’s sick!
But instantly she pushed the thought away, superstitiously furious with herself for having allowed it into her mind. No! she thought fiercely. He isn’t sick! He’s just tired and hungry. When he’s rested a while and had something to eat he’ll be well and strong again.
Determined that he should not suspect what treacherous fear she had had, she now came toward him with a broad gay smile, taking off her cloak and throwing it over one arm. He looked up at her with an answering grin, but gave a short involuntary sigh.
“Well—” she said. “Aren’t you even going to say that you like my lodgings? Everything’s in the latest style—and nothing’s English.” She made a comical little face and gave a sweep of one hand, but as he looked out over the room her eyes watched him anxiously.
“It’s lovely, Amber. Forgive my bad manners. To tell the truth I’m tired—I was up all night.”
The news relieved her. Up all night! Why, who wouldn’t be tired? Then he wasn’t sick at all. Oh, thank God—thank God!
“I’ve got just the thing for that. Here, darling, let me take your cloak and hat—and the sword, too, you’ll be more comfortable without it.”
She would have bent to unbuckle it for him, but he did so himself before she could, and handed it to her. Then, laying everything on a nearby chair, she brought him a tray on which were two decanters, one of water and one of brandy. He gave her a grateful smile and picked up a bottle while she turned to take their wraps into the bedroom.
“I’ll be back in a trice. And we can eat right away. Everything’s here.”
She ran into the bed-chamber, which opened out of the parlour, and while she took off her gown and unpinned her hair she talked to him from the doorway—still hoping that he was not so tired as he seemed, that he would get up and come to her. But he merely sat, watching her and drinking the brandy, saying very little. She stepped out of her dress, untied the bows on her shoes and stripped off her stockings, let her petticoats drop to the floor and bent to pick them up.
