As they left Florence, dying men and women still scrabbled through the streets, screams emanating from the rows of houses, beggars running up to the horses, sick children in their arms, their eyes bleeding, their noses running, begging to join them in their journey out. So dreadful were these shouts as to produce an effect upon the hardened feelings of Jonathan, who shrank out of sight. Mac—the old gossip—knew about everything going on in that part of the world; and if Enschede was anything up to the picture the girl had drawn, McClintock would have heard of him, naturally. ' Avoid taverns and bad company, and you may yet do well.
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