Sheppard, as a storm of furious voices resounded from below, and torches were seen mounting the stairs; "they are coming!—they are coming!—fly!—to the roof! to the roof. The summer arrived, speeding the Plague and with it the famine in the streets. There is turmoil, shouts, cries, jostlings, milling congestions that suddenly break and flow in opposite directions. He forgot for the moment his own self-pity, the egotism of his own passionate love. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. It is good sometimes to walk with a man who can look God squarely in the face, as you can. But we get over it.
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