Fear fell upon the lads, as cold as death.
"A leper!" said Dick, hoarsely.
"His touch is death," said Matcham. "Let us run."
. . . He had been a tall man before he was bowed by his disgusting sickness, and even now he walked with a vigorous step. The dismal beating oj his bell, the pattering of the stick, the eyeless screen before his countenance, and the knowledge that he was not only doomed to death and suffering, but shut out forever from the touch of his fellowmen, filled the lads' bosoms with dismay; and at every step that brought him nearer, their...