<-*» \ ,.^' u^ '^- 52FW1 i * I V. V V; v: \ V \ X. St , ryo'j/^ ^fa^i//^ ^ Wl^^^^/i^^-^:^^^ ''-am^ /Zd^tx<:<^^ic/ .^gj^;^ 6"U%>l7?e ./-//V/./.../ /^i^-^^X^^^,.^^^^.^^^^./^ 'kwkts uy,Orisdi Civt GUY FAWKES; OR, THE GUNPOWDER TREASON. Mn %}inUvitai Mom^me. BY WILLIAM HARRISON AINSWORTII, AUTHOR OF THE '"'tOWEU OF LONDON,'' ''"JACK SHEPl'AHD,'* ^C. " You shall awear by tliu blessed Trinity, a)i(l by the sacrament ymi now pruposR to receive, never to disclose directly or indirectly, byword or circumstance, the matter I hat Bhall be jjroposed to you to keep secret; nor desist from the execution thereof till the rest shall give yuu leave." Oatli of the Conspirators. iniiLADELPIlIA: LEA AND BLANC HARD, 1S4L T. K. & P. G. COLLINS, Primers Ko. 1 Lodge Alley. TO MRS. HUGHES, KINGSTON LISLE, BERKS. My Dear Mrs. Hughes, You are aware that this Romance was brought to a close during my last brief visit at Kingston Lisle, when the time necessary to be devoted to it deprived me of the full enjoyment of your society, and, limiting my range — no very irksome restriction — to your own charming garden and grounds, prevented me from accompanying you in your walks to your favourite and beautiful downs. This circumstance, which will suffice to give it some interest in your eyes by associating it with your residence, furnishes me with a plea, of which I gladly avail myself, of inscribing it with your name, and of recording, at the same time, the high sense I entertain of your goodness and worth, the value I set upon your friendship — a friendship shared in common with some of th6 most illustrious writers of our time — and the gratitude I shall never cease to feel for attentions and kindnesses little less than maternal, which I have experienced at your hands. In the hope that you may long continue to diffuse happiness round your own circle, and contribute to the instruction and delight of the many attached friends with whom you maintain so active and so inte- resting a correspondence; and that you may live to see your grandsons fulfil their present promise, and tread in the footsteps of their high- minded and excellent-hearted father — and of his father! I remain Your aflectionatc and obliged friend, W. IIarKJSON AiNSWORTlI. Kensal Manor House, Harrow Koad, July 2H, 181L PREFACE. The tyrannical measures adopted against the Roman Catholics in the early part of the reign of James the First, when the severe penal enact- ments against recusants were revived, and with additional rigour, and which led to the remarkable conspiracy about to be related, have been so forcibly and faithfully described by Doctor Lingard,* that the follow- ing extract from his history will form a fitting introduction to the present work. "The oppressive and sanguinary code framed in the reign of Eliza- beth, was re-enacted to its full extent, and even improved with additional severities. Every individual who had studied or resided, or should afterwards study or reside in any college or seminary beyond the sea, was rendered incapable of inheriting, or purchasing, or enjoying lands, annuities, chattels, debts, or sums of money, within the realm; and as missionaries sometimes eluded detection under the disguise of tutors, it was provided that no man should teach even the rudiments of grammar in public or in private, without the previous approbation of the diocesan. "The execution of the penal laws enabled the king, by an ingenious comment, to derive considerable profit from his past forbearance. It was pretended that he had never forgiven the penalties of recusancy; he had merely forbidden them to be exacted for a time, in the hope that this indulgence would lead to conformity; but his expectations had been deceived; the obstinacy of the Catholics had grown with the lenity of the sovereign; and, as they were unworthy of further favour, they should now be left to the severity of the law. To their dismay, the legal fine of twenty pounds per lunar month was again demanded, and not only for the time to come, but for the whole period of the suspension; a demand which, by crowding thirteen payments into one, reduced many families of moderate incomes to a state of absolute beggary. Nor was this all. James was surrounded by numbers of his indigent countrymen. Their habits were expensive, their wants many, and their importunities incessant. To satisfy the more clamorous, a new expedient was devised. The king transferred to them his claims on some of the more opulent recusants, against whom they were at liberty to proceed by law, in his name, unless the sufferers should submit to compound by the grant of an annuity for life, or the immediate payment of a considerable sum. * Vide History of England, vol. ix, New Edition. Vi PREFACE. This was at a time when the jealousies between the two nations had reached a height, of which, at the present day, we have but little con- ception. Had the money been carried to the royal coffers, the recusants would have had sufficient reason to complain; but that Englishmen should be placed by their king at the mercy of foreigners, that they should be stripped of their property to support the extravagance of his Scottish minions, this added indignity to injustice, exacerbated their already wounded feelings, and goaded the most moderate almost to des- peration." From this deplorable state of things, which is by no means over-coloured in the above description, sprang the Gunpowder Plot. The county of Lancaster has always abounded in Catholic families, and at no period were the proceedings of the ecclesiastical commission- ers more rigorous against them than at that under consideration. Man- chester, "the Goshen of this Egypt," as it is termed by the fiery zealot. Warden Heyrick, being the place where all the recusants were impri- soned, the scene of the early part of this history has been laid in that town and its immediate neighbourhood. For the introduction of the munificent founder of the Blue Coat Hospital into a tale of this descrip- tion I ought, perhaps, to apologize, but if I should succeed by it in arousing my fellow-townsmen to a more lively appreciation of the great benefits they have derived from him, I shall not regret what I have written. In Viviana Radcliffe I have sought to portray the loyal and devout Catholic, such as I conceive the character to have existed at the period. In Catesby, the unscrupulous and ambitious plotter, masking his designs under the cloak of religion. In Garnet, the subtle, and yet sincere Jesuit. And in Fawkes the gloomy and superstitious enthusiast. One doctrine I have endeavoured to enforce throughout — Toleration. From those who have wilfully misinterpreted one of my former pro- ductions, and have attributed to it a purpose and an aim utterly, foreign to my own intentions, I can scarcely expect fairer treatment for the pre- sent work. But to that wider and more discriminating class of readers from whom I have experienced so much favour and support, I confi- dently commit these volumes, certain of meeting with leniency and impartiality. CONTENTS. Dedication Preface Page iii V BOOK THE FIRST. THE PLOT. Chapter I. An Execution in Manchester, at the beginning of the Seventeenth Century ......... 9 II. Ordsall Cave . 13 III. Ordsall Hall , 14 IV. The Search . 20 V. Chat Moss 23 VI. The Disinterment 32 VII. Doctor Dee . 33 VIII. The Magic Glass 36 IX. The Prison on Salford Bridge ^ 39 X. The Fate of the Pursuivant 42 XI. The Pilgrimage to Saint Winifred's Well 45 XII. The Vision .... 51 XIII. The Conspirators 53 XIV. The Packet .... 59 XV. The Elixir .... 63 XVI. The Collegiate Church at Manchester 68 XVII. The Rencounter 76 XVIII. The Explanation 77 XIX. The Discovery 79 XX. The Departure from the Ha 1 82 BOOK THE SECOND, THE DISCOVERY. I. The Landing of the Powder 87 II. The Traitor . 92 III. The Escape Prevented 96 IV. The Mine . . . . 99 V. The Capture of Viviana 105 VI. The Cellar . . . • 109 VII. The Slar-Chamber . 113 VIII. The Jailer's Daughter 115 IX. The Counterplot 123 X. White Webbs 127 XI. The Marriage in the Forest 132 XII. The Fifth of November 137 XIII. The Flight of the Conspirators 141 XIV. The Examination HG VIU CONTENTS, BOOK THE THIRD. THE CONSPIRATORS. Chapter I. How Guy Fawkes was put to the Torture II. Showing the Troubles of Viviana . III. Huddington ..... IV. Holbeach ..... V. The Close of the Rebellion VI. Hagley VII. Viviana's Last Night at Ordsall Hall VIII. Hendlip IX. Whitehall X. The Parting of Viviana and Humphrey Chetham XI. The Subterranean Dungeon XII. The Traitor Betrayed XIII. The Trial XIV. The Last Meeting of Fawkes and Viviana XV. Saint Paul's Churchyard XVI. Old Palace Yard .... XVII. The Last Execution Page 151 157 160 167 169 174 178 182 187 189 190 192 195 197 199 201 203 GUY FAWKES. BOOK THE FIRST. CHAPTER I. AN EXECUTION IN MANCHESTER. AT THE BEGINNING OF THE SEVENTEENTH CENTURY. More than two hundred and thirty years ago, or, to speak with greater precision, in 1604, at the latter end of June, it was ru- moured one morning in Manchester that two seminary priests, condemned at the late as- sizes under the severe penal enactments then in force against the Papists, were about to suffer death on that day. Attracted by the report, large crowds flocked towards the place of execution, which, in order to give greater solemnity to the spectacle, liad been fixed at the southern gate of the old collegiate church. Here a scaffold was erected, and near it upon a heap of bl^izing coals smoked a large caul- dron filled with boiling pitch, intended to re- ceive the quarters of the miserable sufferers. The place was guarded by a small band of soldiers, habited in their full accoutrements of corslet and morion, and armed with swords, half-pikes, and calivers. Upon the steps of the scaffold stood a square-built, ill-favoured personage, whose office it was easy to divine, busied in spreading a bundle of straw upon the boards. He was dressed in a buff jerkin, and had a long-bladed knife, tiirust into his girdle. Besides these persons, there were two pursuivants, or state-messengers, — officers ap- pointed by the Privy Council to make search throughout the provinces for recusants, Popisli priests, and other religious offenders. They were occupied at this njoinent in reading over a list of suspected persons. Neither the executioners nor his companions appeared in the slightest degree impressed by the horrible tragedy about to be enacted, for the former whistled carelessly as he pursued ])is task, while the latter laughed and chatted with the crowd, or jestingly pointed their matchlocks at the jackdaws wheeling about them in the sunny air, or perching upon the pinnacles and tower of the adjoining fane. Not so the majority of the assemblage. Most of the older and wealthier families in Lanca- shire stiil continuing to adhere to the ancient faith of their fathers, it will not be wondered thiit many of their dependants should follow their example And, even of those who were adverse to tho creed of Rome, there were few B who did not murmur at the rigorous system of persecution adopted towards its professors. At nine o'clock, the hollow rolling of a muffled drum was heard at a distance. The deep bell of the church began to toll, and pre- sently afterwards the mournful procession was seen advancing from the market-place. It con- sisted of a troop of mounted soldiers, equipped in all respects like those stationed at the scaf^ fold, with their captain at their head, and fol- lowed by two of their number with hurdles attached to their steeds, on which were tied the unfortunate victims. Both were young men — both apparently prepared to meet their fate with firmness and resignation. They had been brought from Radcliff Hall — an old moat- ed and fortified mansion belonging to a wealthy family of that name, situated where the close, called Pool Fold, now stands, and then recently converted into a place of security for recusants ; tiie two other prisons in Man- chester — namely, the New Fleet on Hunt's Bank, and the gaol on Salford Bridge, — not being found adc<]uate to the accommodation of the numerous religious criminals. By this time, the cavalcade had reached the place of execution. The soldiers had driven back the throng, and cleared a space in front of the scaffold, when, just as tlie cords that bound the limbs of the priests were unfastened, a woman in a tattered woollen robe, with a hood drawn over her face, a rope bound round her waist, with bare feet, and having some- what of the appearance of a sister of Charity, spiang forward, and flung herself on her knees beside them. Clasping the hem of the garment of the nearest priest, she pressed it to her lips, and gazed earnestly at him, as if imploring a bless- ing. " You liavc your wish, daughter," said the priest, extending his arms over her. "Heaven and Our Lady bless you I" The woman then turned towards the other victim, who was audibly reciting his litanies. " Back, daughter of Antichrist !" interposed a soldier, rudely thrusting her aside. " Don't you sec you disturb his devotions ? He has t9i 10 GUY FAWKES. enough to do to take care of his own soul without minding yours." "Take this, daughter," said the priest who had been first addressed, oficring her a small volume, which he took from his vest, "and fail not to retneuiber in your prayers the sinful soul of Robert VVoodroof, a brother of the order of Jesus." The woman put out her hand to take the book, but before it could be delivered to her, it was seized by the soldier. "Your priests have seldom anytliing to leave behind them," he cried, with a coarse laugh, " except some worthless and superstitious relic of a saint or martyr. What's tliis? Ah I a breviary — a mass-book. I've too much regard for your spiritual welfare to allow you to re- ceive it," he added, about to place it in his doublet. " Give it her," cried a young man, snatch- ing it from him, and handing it to the woman, who instantly disapi)eared. The soldier eyed the new-comer as if dis- posed to resent the interference, but a glance at his apparel, which, though plain, and of a sober hue, was rather above the middle class, as well as a look at the crowd, who were evi- dently disposed to take part with the young man, induced him to stay his hand. He, there- fore, contented himself with crying, "A recu- sant ! a Papist I" " I am neither recusant nor Papist, knave !" replied the other, sternly ; " and I counsel you to amend your manners, and show more hu- manity, or you sl;all find I have interest enough to procure your dismissal from a ser- vice which you disgrace." This reply was Ibllowed by a murmur of ap- plause from the mob. " Who is that bold speaker?" demanded a pursuivant from one of his attendants. " It is Master Humphrey Chelham ofCrump- sall," was the reply, " son to one of the wealth- iest merchants of the town, and a zealous upholder of the true faith." " He has a strange way of showing his zeal," rejoined the pursuivant, entering the answer in his note-book. " And who is the woman lie befriended ?" " She is a half-crazed being called Eliza- beth (.»rlon," replied tlie attendant, "who was scourged and tortured during Queen Eliza- beth's reign for pretending to the gift of pro- phecy. She was compelled to conless the im- posture she had practised on the people, and uttered her recantation within yonder church. Since then, she has never opened her lips." "Where is lier abode?" inquired the pur- suivant. "She lives in a cave on the banks of the Irweli, near Ordsall Hall," replied the at- tendant, •" where she subsists on the chance contributions of the charitable. But she so- licits nothing ; and, indeed, is seldom seen." " Her cave must be searched," observed the pursuivant ; " it may be the hiding-place of a priest. Father Campion was concealed in such another, when he so long eluded the vigilance of the eomrai8sioncr.s. We sliall pass it in our way to Ordsall Hall to-night, shall we not ?" " We shall," answered the attendant. " If we sur[)rise Father Oldcorne, and can prove that Sir William Radeliife and his daughter, both of whom are denounced in my list, are harbourers and shelterers of recusants, we shall have done a good night's work." At this moment, an ofik'cr advanced, and commanded the j)riests to Jbllow him. As Father Woodroof, who was the last to mount the scaffold, ascended the steps, he looked round and cried in a loud voice, " Good people, I take you all to witness that I die ia the true Catholic faith." And, amid the deep silence that ensued, the executioner performed his horrible task. The execution over, the crowd began to se- parate slowly, and various opinions were ex- pressed respecting the revolting and sanguinary spectacle they had just witnessed. Many, who condemned — and the niiijorily did so, — the ex- treme severity of the laws t)y which the un- fortunate priests had just suffered, uttered their sentiments with extreme caution; but there were some whose feelings liad been too much excited for prudence, and who inveighed loud- ly and bitterly against the spirit of religious persecution then prevailing ; while a few others of an entirely opposite persuasion looked upon the rigorous proceedings adopted against the Papi?ts, and the punishment now inflicted upon their priesthood, as a just retribution for their own severities during the reign of Mary. In general, the common people entertained a strong prejudice against the Catholic party, — for, as it has been slirevvdiy observed, " they must ever have some object to hate ;'' but in Manchester, near which, as has been already stated, so many old and important families, professing that religion, resided, the case was widely different ; and the mass of the in- habitants were favourably inclined towards them. It was the knowledge of this feeling that induced the commLssioncrs ai)pointed to superintend the execution of the laws against recusants to proceed with unusuiil rigour in this neighbouihood. The state of the Roman Catljolic party at the period of this liistor}', was indeed most grievous. The hopes they had ii;dulged of greater toleration tor their religion on tlie ac- cession of J:inies the First, had bien entirely destroyed. ']'he persecutions, which had been suspended during the first year of the reign of the new monarch, were now renewed with greater severity than ever; and though their present condition was deplorable enough, it was feared that worse reniaiiicd in store for them. " They bethought themselves," says Bishop Goodman, " that now their case was far worse than in the time of Queen Eliza- beth ; for they did live in some hope that after the old woman's liftj they might have some mitigation, and even those who did then per- secute them were a little more moderate, as being doubtful what limes might succeed, and fearing their own case. But, now that they saw the times settled, haviug no hope of better GUY FAWKES. 11 days, bnt expecting that the uttermost rig-our of the law sliould be executed, they became desperate : finding that by the hivvs of the kingdom their own lives were not secured, and for the carrying over of a priest into England it was no less than high treason. A gentle- woman was hinged only for relieving and harbouring a priest; a citizen was hanged only for being reconciled to the Cimrch of Rome; besides, the penal laws were such, and so ex- ecuted, that they could not subsist. What was usually sold in shops and usually bought, this the pursuivant would take away from them as being po()ish and superstitious. One knight did affirm that in one term he gave twenty nobles in rewards to tiie door-keeper of the Attorney-General ; another did affirm, that his third part which remained unto him of his estate did hardly serve for his expense in law to defend him from other oppressions; besides their children to be taken from home, to be brought up in another religion. So they did every way conclude that their estate was desperate ; they could die but once, and their religion was more precious unto them than their lives. They did further consider their misery; how the}' were debarred in any course of lives to help themselves. They could not practise law, — they could not be citizens, — they could have no office ; they could not breed up their sons — none did desire to match with thern ; they had neither fit marriages for their daughters, nor nunneries to put them into ; for those few which are beyond seas are not con- siderable in respect of the number of recu- sants, and none can be admitted into them without great sums of money, which the}', being exhausted, could not supply. The Spi- ritual ('ourt did not cease to molest them, to excommunicate them, then to imprison them ; and thereby they were utterly disenabled to sue for their own." Such is a faithful picture of the state of the Catholic party at the com- mencement of the reign of .Tames the First. Pressed down by these intolerable grievances, is it to be wondered at that the Papists should repine, — or that some among their number, when all other means failed, should seek re- dress by darker measures ? By a statute of Elizabeth, all those who refused to conform with the established religion were subjected to a fine of twenty pounds a hin:ir month ; and this heavy penalty, which had been remitted, or rather suspended, since James came to the throne, was again exacted, and all arrears claimed. Added to this, tiie monarch, whose court was thronged by a host of needy Scottish retainers, assigned to them a certain number of wealthy recusants, and empowered them to levy the fines, — a privilege of which tiiey were not slow to avail themselves. There were other pains and penalties [)rovided for by the same statute, which were rigorously inflicted. The withdrawing, or seeking to withdraw another from the established rcligiim was ac- counted high treason, and punished accord- ingly; licaring mass involved a penaltv of one hundred marks and a year's inipri'^onmcnt ; and the harbouring of a priest, under the de- nomination of a tutor, rendered the latter liable to a year's imprisonment, and his employer to a fine of ten pounds a-month. Impressed with the belief that, in consequence of the unre- mitting persecutions which the Catholics un- derwent in Elizabeth's time, the religion would be wholly extirpated. Dr. Allen, a Lancashire divine, who afterward's received a cardinal's hat, founded a college at Douay, for the recep- tion and education of those who intended to take orders. From this university a number of missionary priests, or seminarists, as they were termed, were annually sent over to Eng- land, and it was against these persons, who submitted to every hardship and privation, to danger, and death itself, for the welfare of their religion, and in the hope of propagating its doctrines, that the utmost rigour of the penal enactments was directed. Among the num- ber of seminarists dispatched from Douay, and capitally convicted under the statute above- mentioned, were the two priests whose execu- tion has just been described. As a portion of the crowd passed over the old bridge across the Irwell connecting Man- chester with Salford, on which stood an ancient chapel erected by Thomas de Booth, in the reign of Edward the Third, and recently con- verted into a prison for recusants, they per- ceived the prophetess, Elizabeth Orton, seated upon the stone steps of the structure, earnestly reading the book given to her by Father VVoodroof. A mob speedily collected round her ; but, unconscious seemingly of their pre- sence, the poor woman turned over leaf after leaf, and pursued her meditations. Her hood was thrown back, and discovered her bare and withered neck, over which her black dislievelled hair streamed in thick masses. Irritated by her indifference, several of the by-standers, who had questioned her as to the nature of her studies, began to mock and jeer her, and en- deavoured by plucking her robe, and casting little 'pebbles at her, to attract her attention. Roused, at length, by these annoyances, she arose, and fixing her large black eyes me- nacingly upon them, was about to stalk away, when they surrounded and detained her. " Speak to us, Bess," cried several voices. " Prophesy, — prophesy." " I will speak to you," replied the poor woman, shaking her hand at them, " I will prophesy to you. And mark me, though ye believe me not, my words shall not fall to the ground." " A miracle ! a miracle !" shouted the by- standers. " Bess Orton, who has been silent for twenty years, has found her tongue at last." " I have seen a vision, and dreamed a dream," continued the prophetess. " As I lay in my cell last night, meditating upon the forlorn state of our church and of its people, me- thought that nineteen shadowy figures stood before me — ay, nineteen — for I counted them over thrice — and when I questioned them as to their coming, for my tongue at first clove to the roof of my mouth, and my li(is refused their office, one of them answered me in a voice which yet rings in my ears, ' We are 12 GUY FAWKES. the chosen deliverers of our fallen and per- secuted church. To us is intrusted the re- buildingr of her temples, — to our hands is committed the destruction of her enemies. The work will be done in darkness and in secret, — with toil and travail, but it will at length be made manifest ; and when the hour is arrived, our vengeance will be terrible and exterminating.' With these words, they van- ished from my sight. Ah !" she exclaimed, suddenly starting, and passing her hand across her brow, as if to clear her sight, " it was no dream — no vision. I see one of them now." "Where? — where?" cried several voices. The prophetess answered by extending her skinny arm towards some object immediately before her. All eyes were instantly turned in the di- rection which she pointed, when they beheld the figure of a soldier — for such his gaib pro- claimed him — standing at a few paces' dis- tance from them. He was wrapped in an ample cloak, and his broad-leaved steeple- crowned Spanish hat, decorated with a single green feather, pulled over his brows, seemed, like his accoutrements, which ditFered in some respects from those of the troopers previously described, to denote that he belonged to that service. He wore a polished steel brigandine, trunk loose, and buff boots drawn up to the knees. His arms consisted of a brace of pe- tronels thrust into his belt, from which a long rapier depended. His features were dark as bronze, and well-formed, though strongly mark- ed, and wearing an expression of settled stern- ness. His eyes were grey and penetrating, and shaded by thick beetle-brows ; and his physiognomy was completed by a black peak- ed beard. His person was tall and erect, and Jiis deportment soldier-like and commanding. Perceiving that he was become an object of notice, the stranger cast a compassionate look at the prophetess, who still remained gazing fixedly at him, and throwing her a few pieces of money, strode away. Watching his retreating figure till it disap- peared from view, the crazed woman tossed her arms wildly in the air, and cried, in a voice of exultation, " Did I not speak the truth ? — did I not tell you I had seen him ? He is the de- liverer of our church, and is come to avenge the righteous blood which liath been this day shed." " Peace, woman, and fly while there is yet time," cried the young man who was de- signated as Humphrey Chetham. " The pur- suivant and his officers are in search of you." "Then they shall not need go far to find me," replied the prophetess. " I will tell them what I told this mob, that the day of bloody retribution is at iiand, — that the avenger is ar- rived. I have seen him twice, — once in my cave, and once again here, — even where you stand." " If you do not keep silence and fly, my poor creature," rejoined Humphrey Chetham, "you will have to endure what you sufl'ered years ago, stripes, and perhaps torture. Be warned by me — oh 1 it is too late. He is approaching." " Let him come," replied Elizabeth Orton," " I am ready for him." " Can none of you force her away ?" cried Humphrey Chetham, appealing to the crowd ; " I will reward you." " I will not stir from this spot," rejoined the prophetess, obstinately : " I will testily to the truth." The kind-hearted merchant, finding any further attempt to preserve her fruitless, drew aside. By this time, the pursuivant and his myrmi- dons had come up. " Seize her I" cried the former, " and let her be placed within this prison till I have re- ported her to the commissioners. If you will confess to me, woman," he added, in a whisper to her, " that you have harboured a priest, and will guide us to his hiding-place, you shall be set free." " I know of no priests but those you have murthered," returned the prophetess, in a loud voice, " but I will tell you something that you wot not of. The avenger of blood is at hand. I have seen him. All here have seen him. And you shall see him ; but not now — not now." " What is the meaning of this raving ?" de- manded the pursuivant. " You had better pay no heed to her talk, master pursuivant," interposed Humphrey Chetham ; " she is a poor crazed being, who knows not what she says. I will be surety for her inoffensive conduct." " You must give surety for yourself. Master Chetham," replied the officer. " I have just learnt that you were last night at Ordsall Hall, the seat of that ' dangerous temporiser,' — for such he is designated in my warrant, — Sir William Radcliffe ; and if report speaks truly, you are not altogether insensible to the charms of his fair daughter. Mistress Viviana." " What is this to thee, thou malapert knave?" cried Humphrey Chetham, reddening partly from anger, partly, it might be, from another emotion. " Much, as you shall presently find, goo"d Master Wolf-in-sheep's-clothing," retorted the pursuivant, " if you prove not a rank Papist at heart, then do 1 not know a true man from a false." This angry conference was cut short by a piercing scream from the prophetess. Break- ing from the grasp of her captors, who were about to force her into the prison, she sprang with a single bound upon the parapet of the bridge, and utterly regardless of her dangerous position, turned, and iiiced the officers, who were struck mute with astonishment. " Tremble I" she cried in a loud voice, — "tremble, ye evil-doers I Ye who have de- spoiled the house of God, — have broken his altars, — scattered his incense, — slain his priests. Tremble, I say. The avenger is arrived. The bolt is in his hand. It shall strike king, lords, commons, — all ! These are my last words, — take them to heart." "Drag her oft!" cried the pursuivant, ao- grily. GUY FAWKES. 13 " Use care — use genlleness, if ye are men!" cried Humphrey Chetliam. " Think not you can detain me !" cried the prophetess. " Avaunt, and tremble I" So saying, she flung herself from the parapet. The height from which she fell was about fifty feet. The water was dashed into the air Jike jets from a fountain by the weight and force of the descending body. The waves in- stantly closed over her ; but she rose to the surface of the stream; about twenty yards be- low the bridge. "She may yet be saved," cried Humphrey Chetham, who with the by-standers had hur- ried to the side of the bridge. " You will only preserve her for the gal- lows," observed the pursuivant. " Your malice shall not prevent my making the attempt," replied the young merchant- " Ha ! assistance is at hand." This exclamation was occasioned by the sudden appearance of the soldier in the Spanish dress, who rushed towards the left bank of the river, which was here, as elsewhere, formed of red sandstone rock, and following the course of the current, awaited the next appearance of the drowning woman. This did not occur till she had been carried a considerable distance down the stream, when the soldier, swiftly di- vesting himself of his cloak, plunged into the water, and dragged her ashore. " Follow me," cried the pursuivant to his attendants. " I will not lose my prey.". But before he gained the bank of the river the soldier and his charge had disappeared, nor could he detect any traces of them. CHAPTER II. ORDSALL CAVE. After rescuing the unfortunate prophetess from a watery grave in the manner just re- lated, the soldier snatched up his cloak, and, taking his dripping burthen in his arms, hur- ried swiftly along the bank of the river, until he came to a large cleft in the rock, into which he crept, taking his charge with him, and thus eluded observation. In this retreat he con- tinued upwards of two hours, during which time the poor creature, to whom he paid every attention that circumstances would admit, had so far recovered as to be able to speak. But it was evident the shock had been too much for her, and that she was sinking fast. She was so faint that she could scarcely move ; but she expressed a strong desire to reach her cell before she breathed her last. Having described its situation as accurately as she could to the soldier, who before he ventured forth peeped out to ascertain that no one was on tlie watch — he again raised her in his arms, and by her direction struck into a narrow lane skirting the bank of the river. Pursuing this road for about half a mile, he arrived at the foot of a small eminence, covered by a clump of mag- nificent beecli-trees, and still acting under the guidance of the dying woman, whose voice grew more feeble each instant, he mounted this knoll, and from its summit took a rapid sur- vey of the surrounding country. On the op- posite bank of the river stood an old hall, while further on, at some distance, he could perceive through the trees the gables and chimneys of another ancient mansion. "Raise me up," said Elizabeth Orton, as he lingered on this spot for a moment. " In that old house, which you see yonder, Hulme Hall, I was born. I would willingly take one look at it before I die." " And the other hall which I discern through the trees is Ordsall, is it not ?" inquired l^e soldier. " It is," replied the prophetess. " And now let us make what haste we can. We have not far to go ; and I feel I shall not last long." Descending the eminence, and again enter- ing the lane, which here made a turn, the soldier approached a grassy space, walled in on either side by steep sandstone rocks. Proceed- ing to the further extremity of this enclosure, after a moment's search, by the direction of his companion, he found, artfully concealed by overhanging brushwood, the mouth of a srnall cave. Creeping inlo the excavation, he found it about six feet high, and of considerable depth. The roof was ornamented with Runic characters and other grotesque and half-effaced inscriptions, while the sides of the rock were embellished witli Gothic tracery, amid which the letters I. H. S., carved in ancient church text, could be easily distinguished. Tradition assigned the cell to the priests of Odin, but it was evident that worshippers at other and holier altars had more recently made it their retreat. Its present occupant had furnished it with a straw pallet and a small wooden cruci- fix fixed in a recess in the wall. Gently depo- siting her upon the pallet, the soldier took a seat beside her on a stone slab at the foot of the bed. He next, at her request, as the cave was rendered almost wholly dark by the'^K gr- hanging trees, struck a light, and set fire ta?^i> candle placed within a lantern. After a few moments passed in prayer, the recluse begged him to give her the crucifix that she might clasp it to her breast. This done, she became more composed, and prepared herself to meet her end. Suddenly, as if something had again disturbed her, she passed her hand once or twice rapidly across her face, and then, as with a dying effort, started up, and stretched out her hands. " I see him before them !" she cried. " They examine him, — they adjudge him ! Ah ! he is 14 GUY FAWKES. now in a dungeon ! See, the torturers advance ! He is placed on the rack — once — twice they apply the engine ! Mercy ! he confesses ! He is led to execution. I see him ascend the Bcaffold !" "Whom do you behold?" inquired the soldier. " His face is hidden from me," replied the prophetess ; " but his figure is not unlike your own. Ha! I hear the executioner pronounce his name. How are you called ?" " Guy Fawkes," replied the soldier. " It is the name 1 heard," rejoined Eliza beth Orton. And, sinking backwards, she expired. Guy Fawkes gazed at her some time till ha felt assured that the last spark of life had fled. He then turned away, and placing his hand upon his chin, was buried in deep reflec- tion. CHAPTER III. ORDSALL HALL. Soon after sunset, on the evening of the events previously related, llie inmates of Ord- sall Hall were disturbed and alarmed (for in those times of trouble any casual disturbance at night was sufficient to occasion alarm to a Catholic family) by a loud clamour for admit- tance from some one stationed at the farther side of the moat, then, as now, surrounding that ancient manorial residence. The draw- bridge being raised, no apprehension was en- tertained of an attempt at tbrciblc entrance on the part of the intruder, who, so fiir as he could be discerned in the deepening twilight, ren- dered yet more obscure by the shade of tlie trees under which he stood, appeared to be a Bolitary horseman. Still, tor fear of a surprise, it was judged prudent by tliose inside the hall to turn a deaf ear to tlie summons ; nor was it until it had been more than once repeated in a peremptory tone that any attention was paid to it. The outer gate was then cautiously opened by an old steward, and a couple of serving-men, armed with pikes and swords, who demanded the stranger's business, and •were answered that he desired to speak with Sir William RadclifFe. Tlie steward rejoined that his master was not at home, having set out the day before for Chester ; but that even if he were, he would take upon himself to affirm that no audience would be given, on any pretence whatever, to a stranger at such an unseasonable hour. To this the other replied, in a haughty and commanding voice, that he was neither a stranger to Sir William Rad- clifFe, nor ignorant of the necessity of caution, though in this instance it was altogether super- fluous ; and, as notwithstanding the steward's assertion to the contrary, he was fully per- suaded his master was at home, he insisted upon being conducted to liim without further parley, as his business would not brook delay. In vain, the steward declared he had spoken the truth. The stranger evidently disbelieved him ; but, as he could obtain no more satis- factory answer to his interrogations, he sud- denly shifted his ground, and inquired whether Sir William's daughter. Mistress Viviana, was likewise absent from home. " Before I repl.y to that question, I must know by whom and wherefore it is put?" re- turned the steward, evasively. " Trouble not yourself further, friend, but deliver this letter to her," rejoined the horse- man, flinging a packet across the moat. "It is addressed to her father, but there is no rea- son why she should not be acquainted with its contents." "Take it up, Olin Birtwissel," said the steward, eying the packet which had fallen at his feet suspiciously, — " take it up, I say, and hold it to the light, that I may consider it well before I carry it to our young mistress. I have heard of strange treacheries practised by such means, and care not to meddle with it" " Neither do I, good Master Heydocke," re- plied Birtwissel. " I would not touch it for a twelvemonth's wages. It may burst, and spoil my good looks, and so ruin my fortunes with the damsels. But here is Jeff" Gellibronde, who having no beauty to lose, and being, moreover, afraid of nothing, will pick it up for you." " Speak for yourself, Olin," rejoined Gelli- bronde, in a surly tone. " I have no more fancy for a shattered limb, or a scorched face, than my neighbours." " Dolts I" cried the stranger, who had listen- ed to these observations with angry impatience, " if vou will not convey my packet, which has nothing more dangerous about it than an or- dinary letter, to your mistress, at least acquaint her that Mr. Robert Catesby, of Ashby St Legers, is without, and craves an instant's speech with her." " Mr. Catesby I" exclaimed the steward, in astonishment "If it be indeed your worship, why did you not declare yourself at once ?" " I may have as good reason for caution as yourself. Master Heydocke," returned Catesby, laughing. "True," rejoined the steward; "but, me- thinks, it is somewhat strange to find your worship here, when I am aware that my mas- ter expected to meet you, and certain other honourable gentlemen that you wot of, at a place in a clean opposite direction, — Holywell, in Flintshire." " The cause of my presence, since you de- sire to be certified of the matter, is simply this," replied Catesby, urging his steed to- wards the edge of the moat, while the steward advanced to meet Jiinfi on tlie opposite bank. J GUY FAWKES. 15 so that a few yards only lay between them ; " I came round by Manchester," he continued in a lower tone, " to see if any assistance could be rendered to the unfortunate fathers Wood- roof and Forshawe ; but found on my arrival this morning that I was too late, as they had just been put to death." " Heaven have mercy on their souls !" eja- culated Heydocke, shuddering, and crossing- himself. " Your's was a pious mission, Mr. Catesby. Would it had been availing I" " I would so, too, with all my soul !" re- joined the other, fervently ; " but fate ordained it otherwise. While I was in the town I ac- cidentally learnt from one, who informed me he had just parted with him, that your master was at home ; and, fearing he might not be able to attend the meeting at Holywell, I re- solved to proceed thither at nightfall, when my visit wa- not likely to be observed ; having mo- tives which you may readily conjecture, for preserving the strictest secresy on the occa- sion. Tlie letter was prepared in case I should fail in meeting with him. And now that I have satisfied your scruples, good master steward, if Sir William be really within, I pray you lead me to him forthwith. If not, your young mistress must serve my turn, for I have that to say which it imports one or other of them to know." " In regard to my master," replied the steward, "he departed yesterday for Chester, on his way to join the pilgrimage to St. Wini- fred's Well, as I have already assured your worship. And whoever informed you to the contrary, spoke falsely. But I will convey your letter and message to my young mistress, and on learning her pleasure as to receiving you, will instantly return, and report it. These are dangerous times. A good Catholic knows not whom to trust, there are so many spoilers abroad." " How, sirrah !" cried Catesby, angrily; " do you apply that observation to me ?" " Far be it from me," answered Heydocke, respectfully, "to apply any observation that may sound offensive to your worship, whom I know to be a most worthy gentleman, and as free from heresy, as any in the kingdom. I was merely endeavouring to account for what may appear my over-caution in detaining you where you are, till I learn my lady's wishes. It is a rule in this house not to lower the draw- bridge without orders after sunset ; and I dare not, for my place, disobey it. Young Master Humphrey Chetham, of Crumpsall, was de- tained in the like manner no later than last night ; and he is a visiter," he added, in a sig- niticant tone, " who is not altoerther unwel- come to my mistress — ahem ! But duty is no respecter of persons ; and in my master's ab- sence my duty is to protect his household. Your worship will pardon me." " I will pardon anything but your loquacity and tediousness," rejoined Catesby, impatiently, " About your errand quickly." " I am gone, your worsliip," returned the eteward, disappearing with his companions. Throwing the bridle over his horse's neck, and allowing him to drink his fill from the water of the moat, and afterwards to pluck a few mouthfuls of the long grass that fringed its brink, Catesby abandoned himself to reflec- tion. In a few moments, as the steward did not return, he raised his eyes, and fixed them upon the ancient habitation before him, — ancient, indeed, it was not at this time, having been in a great measure rebuilt by its posses- sor, Sir William Radcliffe, during the latter part of the reign of Elizabeth, in the rich and picturesque style of that period. Little could be distinguished of its projecting and retiring wings, its walls decorated with black and white chequer-work, the characteristic of the class of architecture to which it belonged, or of its magnificent embayed windows filled with stained glass; but the outline of its heavy roof, with its numerous gables, and groups of tall and elaborately-ornamented chimneys, might be distinctly traced in strong relief against the warm and still-glowing western sky. . Though much gone to decay, grievously neglected, and divided into three separate dwelling-houses, Ordsall Hall still retains much of its original character and beauty, and view- ed at the magic hour above described, when the changes which years have produced can- not be detected, it presents much the same striking appearance that it offered to the gaze of Catesby. Situated on the north bank of the Irwell, which supplies the moat with a con- stant stream of fresh water, it commands on the south-west a beautiful view of the winding course of the river, here almost forming an island, of TrafTord Park and its hall, of the woody uplands beyond it, and of tlie distant hills of Cheshire. The mansion itself is 3ii> irregular quadrangle, covering a considerable tract of ground. The gardens, once exqui- sitely laid out in the formal taste of Elizabeth's days, are also enclosed by the moat, which surrounds (except in the intervals where it is filled up,) a space of some acres in extent. At the period of this history, it was approached on the north-east by a noble avenue of syca- mores, leading to within a short distance of its gates. As Catesby surveyed this stately structure, and pondered upon the wealth and power of its owner, his meditation thus found vent in words : — " If I could but link Radclifl^e to our cause, or win the hand of his fair daughter, and so bind him to me, the great attempt could not fail. She has refused nie once. No matter. — I will persevere till she yields. With Father Oldcorne to back my suit, I am assured of suc- cess. She is necessary to my purpose, and shall be mine." Descended from an ancient Northampton- shire family, and numbering among his an- cestry the well-known minister of the same name, who flourished in the reign of Richard the Third, Robert Catesby — at this time about forty, — had in his youth led a wild and dis- solute life ; and though bred in the faith of Rome, he had for some years abandoned its worship. In 1580, wlien the Jesuits, Campion and Parsons, visited England, he was recon< 16 GUY FAWKES. ciled to the church he had quitted, and thence- forth became as zealous a supporter and pro- moter of its doctrines as he had heretofore been their bitter opponent. He was now actively engaged in all the Popish plots of the period, and was even supposed to be connected with those designs of a darker dye which were set on foot for Elizabeth's destruction, — with Sotn- erville's conspiracy, — with that of Arden and Throckmorton, — the latter of whom was his uncle on the niaternal side, — with the plots of Bury and Savage, — of Ballard, — and of Bab- ington. After the execution of the unfortunate Queen of Scots, he devoted himself to what was termed the Spanish faction, and endeav- oured to carry out the schemes of a party, who, distrusting the vague promises of James, were anxious to secure the succession to a Catholic, — the Infanta of Spain, or the Duke of Parma. On the insurrection of the Earl of Essex, he took part with that ill-fated nobleman, and, thougii he escaped condign punishment for the otfencc, he was imprisoned and heavily fined. From this time his career ran in darker channels. " Hunger-starved for innovation," as he is finely described by Camden, — imbued with the fiercest religious fanaticism, — elo- quent, wily, resolute, — able alike to delude the powerful and intimidate the weak, — he pos- sessed all the ingredients of a conspirator. As- ; sociating with men like himself, of desperate character and broken fortunes, he was ever on the look-out for some means of retrieving his own condition, and redressing the wrongs of his church. Well informed of the actual state of James's sentiments, when, on that monarch's accession, confident hopes were entertained by the Romanists of greater toleration for their religion, Catcsby was the first to point out their mistake, and to foretell the season of terrible persecution that was at hand. It was on this persecution that he grounded his hopes — hopes never realized, for the sufferers, amid all the grievances they endured, remained constant in their fidelity to the throne — of creating a gene- ral rebellion among the Catholics. Disappointed in this expectation, — disap- pointed, also, in his hopes of Spain, of France, and of aid from Rome, he fell back upon him- self, and resolved upon the execution of a dark and dreadful project which he had long con- ceived, and which he could execute almost single-handed, without aid from foreign pow- ers, and without the co-operation of his own party. The nature of this project, which, if it succeeded, would, he imagined, accomplish all or more than his wildest dreams of ambition or fanaticism had ever conceived, it will be the business of this history to develope. Without going further into detail at present, it may be mentioned that the success of the plot depend- ed so entirely on its sccresy, and so well aware was its contriver of the extraordinary system of espionage carried on by the Earl of Salis- bury and the Privy Council, that for some time he scarcely dared to trust it out of his own keeping. At length, after much deliberation, he communicated it to five others, all of whom were bound to silence by an oath of unusual solemnity ; and as it was necessary to the com- plete success of the conspiracy that its outbreak should be instantaneously followed by a rise on the part of the Catholics, he darkly hinted that a plan was on foot for their deliverance from the yoke of their oppressors, and counselled them to hold themselves in readiness to tly to arms at a moment's notice. But here again he failed. Few were disposed to listen to him; and of those who did, the majority returned for answer, " that their part was endurance, and that the only arms which Christians could use against lawful powers in their severity were prayers and tears." Among the Popish party of that period, as in our own time, were ranked many of the oldest and most illustrious families in the kingdom, — families not less remarkable for their zeal for religion, than, as has been before observed, for their loyalty; — a loyalty afterwards approved in the disa.-^trous reign of James the Second, by their firm adherence to what they consid- ered the indefeasible right of inheritance. Plots, indeed, were constantly hatched throughout the reigns of Elizabeth and James by persons pro- fessing the religion of Rome. But in these the mass of the Catholics had no share. And even in the seasons of the bitterest persecution, when every fresh act of treason, perpetrated by some lawless and disaffected individual, was visited with additional rigour on their heads, — when the scaffold reeked with their blood, and the stake smoked with their ashes, — when their quarters were blackening on the gates and market crosses of every city in the realm, — when their hearths were invaded, their religion proscribed, and the very name of Papist had become a by-word, — even in those terrible sea- sons, as in the season under considerstion, they remained constant in their fidelity to the crown. From the troubled elements at work some fierce and turbulent spirits were sure to arise, — some gloomy fanatics who, having brooded over tiieir wrongs, real or imaginary, till they had lost all scruples of conscience, hesitated at no means of procuring redress. But it would be unjust to hold up such persons as represent- atives of the whole body of Catholics. Among the conspirators themselves there were redeem- ing shades. All were not actuated by the same atrocious motives. Mixed feelings induced Catesby to adopt the measure. Not so Guy Fawkes, who had already been leagued with the design. One idea alone ruled him. A sol- dier of fortune, but a stern religious enthusiast, he supposed himself chosen by Heaven for the redemption of his church, and cared not what happened to himself, provided he accomplished his (as he conceived) holy design. In considering the causes which produced the conspiracy about to be related, and in sepa- rating the disaffected party of the Papists from the temperate, due weight must be given to the influence of the priesthood. Of the Romish clergy there were two classes — the secular priests, and the Jesuits and missionaries. While tlie former, like the more moderate of GUY FAWKES. 17 the laity, would have been wcll-contcntcd with toleration tor their religion, the latter breathed nothing but revenge, and desired the utter sub- version ot" tlie existing government, — temporal as well as ecclesiaslic.il. Men, for the most part, of high intellectual powers, of untiring energy, and unconquerable fortitude, they were enabled by their zeal and ability to make many proselytes. By their nie:ins, secret correspond- ence was carried on with the different ct)urts of Europe; and they were not without hope that, taking advantage of some favourable crisis, they should yet restore their church to its fbrjner supremacy. To these persons, — who held as a maxim, " Qui ndirrionein Catho- licam deserit regnandi jus ninne amisit" — Catesby and his associates proved ready and devoted agents. Through their instrumental- ity, they hoped to accomplish the great work of their restoration. To Father Gurnet, the provincial of the English Jesuits, of whom it will be necessary to speak more fully hereafter, the plot had been revealed by Catesby under tlie seal of confession ; and, though it subse- quently became a question whether he was justified in withholding a secret of such im- portance to the state, it is sufficient for the pre- sent purpose to say that he did withhold it. For the treasonable practices of the Jesuits and their faction some palliation may perhaps be found in the unrelenting persecution to which they were subjected ; but if any excuse can be admitted for tliem, what opinion must be formed of the conduct of their temperate brethren ? Surely, while the one is condemned, admira- tion may be mingled with the sympathy which must be felt for the unmerited sufferings of the other I ^ From the foregoing statement, it will be readily inferred that Sir William RadclifTe, a devout Catholic, and a man of large posses- sions, though somewhat reduced by the heavy fines imposed upon him as a recusant, must have appeared as an object of importance to the conspirators; nor will it be wondered at, that every means was used to gain him to their cause. Acting, however, upon the principles that swayed the well-disposed of his party, the knight resisted all these overtures, and rofiised to take any share in proceedings from which his conscience and loyalty alike revolted. Baf- fled, but not defeated, Catesby returned to the charge on a new point of assault. Himself a widower, he solicited the hand of the lovely Viviana Radclilfe, Sir William's only child, and the sole heiress of his possessions. But liis suit in this quarter was, also, unsuccessful. The knight rejected the proposal, alleging that his daughter had no inclination to any alliance, inasmuch as she entertained serious thoughts of vowing herself to Heaven. Thus foiled, Catesby ostensibly relinquished his design. Shortly before the couMnenceiTient of this history, a pilgrimage to St. Winifred's Well, in Flintshire, was undertaken by Father Gar- net, the provincial of the Jesuits before men- tioned, in company with several distinguished Catholic personages of both sexes, and to this ceremonial Sir William and his daughter were 2» C urgently bidden. The invitation was declined on the part of Viviana, but accepted by the knight, who, though unwilling to leave home at a period of so much danger, or to commit the care of his daughter to any charge but his own, even for so short a space, felt it to be his duty to give countenance by his presence to the ceremonial. Accordingly, he had departed for Chester on the previous day, as stated by the steward. And, though Catesby professed ignorance on the subject, and even affirmed that he had heard to the contrary, it may be doubted whether he was not secretly informed of the circumstance, and whether his arrival, at this particular conjuncture, was not preconcerted. Thus much in explanation of what is to fol- low. — The course of ('atesby's reflections was cut short by tiie return of the steward, who, informing him that he had his mistress's com- mands to admit him, immediately lowered the drawbridge for that purpose. Dismounting, and committing his steed to one of the serving- men, who advanced to take it, Catesby follow- ed his conductor through a stone gateway, and crossing the garden, was ushered into a spacious and lofty hall, furnished with a long massy oak table, at the upper end of which was a raised dais. At one side of the chamber yawned a huge arched fire-place, garnished with enormous andirons, on which smouldered a fire composed of mixed turf and wood. Above the chimney-piece hung a suit of chain-armour, with the battle-axe, helmet, and gauntlets of Sir John Radcliffe, the first possessor of Ord- sall, who flourished in the reign of Edward the First: on the right, masking the entrance, stood a magnificent screen of carved oak. Traversing this hall, Heydocke led the way to another large apartment, and placing lights on a gothic-shaped table, offered a seat to the new comer, and departed. The room in which Catesby was lefl was termed the star-chamber — a name retained to this day — from the cir- cumstance of its ceiling being moulded and painted to resemble the heavenly vault when studded with the luminaries of night. It was terminated by a deeply-embayed window filled with stained glass of tlie most gorgeous colours; now, however, concealed from view by the rich curtains drawn before it. The walls, in some places, were hung with arras, in others, wains- coted with dark, lustrous oak, embellished with scrolls, cyphers, and fanciful designs. The mantel-piece was of the same solid ma- terial, curiously carved, and of extraordinary size. It was adorned with the armorial bear- ings of the family — two bends engrailed, and in chief a label of three, — and other devices and inscriptions. The hearth was considerably raised above the level of the floor, and there was a peculiarity in the construction of the massive wooden pillars flankinjr it, that at- tracted the attention of Catesby, who rose with the intention of examining them more nar- rowly, when he was interrupted by the entrance of the lady of the mansion. Advancing at a slow and dignified pace, Viviana Radclitfo courteously but gravely sa- 18 GUY FAWKES. luted her guest, and, without offering him her hand, motioned him to a ciiair, while she seat- ed herself at a little distance. Catesby had seen her twice before ; and whether the cir- cumstances under which they now met might have caused some change in licr demeanour lie could not tell, but he thought her singularly altered. A year ago, she had been a lively, laughing girl of seventeen, with a bright brown skin, dark tlovving tresses, and eyes as black and radiant as those of a gipsy. She was now a grave, collected woman, infinitely more beau- tiful, but wholly changed in character. Her complexion had become a clear, transparent white, and setoff to great advantage her large, luminous eyes, and jetty brows, fler figure was tall and majestic ; her features regular, delicately formed, and of the rarest and proudest class of beauty. She was attired in a dress of black wrought velvet, entirely without orna- ment except the rosary at her girdle, with a small ebony crucifix attached to it. She wore a close-fitting cap, likewise of black velvet, edged with pearls, beneath which her raven tresses were gathered in such a manner as to display most becomingly the smooth and snowy expanse of her marble forehead. The gravity of her manner, not less than lier charms of person, seemed to have struck Catesby mute. He gazed on her in silent admiration for a brief space, utterly forgetful of the object of his visit, and the part he intended to play. During this pause, she maintained the most perfect composure, and fixing her dark eyes full upon him, appeared to await the moment when lie might choose to open the conversa- tion. Notwithstanding his age, and the dissolute and distracted life he had led, Catesby was still good-looking enough to have produced a favourable impression upon any woman easily captivated by manly beauty. The very ex- pression of his marked and peculiar physiog- nomy, — in some degree an index to his cha- racter, — was sutficient to rivet attention ; and the mysterious interest generally inspired by his presence was not diminished on further acquaintance with him. Though somewhat stern in tlieir expression, his leatures were strikingly handsome, cust in an oval mould, and clothed with tiie pointed beard and mus- taches invariably met with in the portraits of Vandyck. His frame was strongly built, but well proportioned, and seeuied capable of en- during the greatest fatigue. His dress was that of an ordinary gentleman of the period, and consisted of a doublet of quilted silk, of sober colour and stout texture ; large trunk- hose swelling out at the hips; and buff boots, armed with spurs with immense rowels. He wore a deep and stifHy-starched ruff round his throat; and his apparel was completed by a short cloak of brown cloth, lined with silk of a similar colour. His arms were rapier and poniard, and his high-crowned plumed hat, of the peculiar firm then in vogue, and looped on the " leer-side" with a diamond clasp, was thrown upon the table. Some little time having elapsed, during which he made no effort to address her, Vi- viana broke silence. " I understood that you desired to speak with me on a matter of urgency, Mr. Catesby," she remarked. " I did so," he replied, as if aroused from a reverie ; " and I can only excuse my absence of mind and ill manners, on the plea tliat the contemplation of your charms lias driven all other matter out of my head." " Mr. Catesby," returned Viviana, rising, "if the purpose of your visit be merely to pay unmerited compliments, I must at once put an end to it." " 1 have only obeyed the impulse of my heart," resumed the other, passionately, " and uttered what involuntarily rose to my lips. But," he added, cheeking himself, " I will not offend you with my admiration. If you have read my letter to your fatlier, you will not re- quire to be informed of the object of my visit." " I have not read it," replied Viviana, re- turning him the packet with the seal unbroken. " I can give no opinion on any matter of diffi- culty. And I have no desire to know any secret with which my father might not desire me to be acquainted." "Are we overheard?" inquired Catesby, glancing suspiciously at the fire-place. " By no one whom you Would care to over- hear us," returned the maiden. " Then it is as I supposed," rejoined Cates- by. " Father Oldcorne is concealed behind that mantel-piece .'" Viviana smiled an affirmative. " Let him come forth, I pray you. Miss Rad- cliffe," returned Catesby. " What I have to say concerns him as much as yourself or your father; and I would gladly have his voice in the matter." " You shall have it, my son," replied a re- verend personage, clad in a priestly garb, step- ping from out one side of the mantel-piece, which flew suddenly open, disclosing a recess curiously contrived in tlie thickness of the wall. " You shall have if," said Father Old- corne," for he it was, approaching and extend- ing his arms over him. " Accept my blessing and my welcome." Catesby received the benediction with bowed head and bended knee. " And now," continued the priest, " what has the bravest soldier of our church to declare to its lowliest servant ?" Catesby then briefly explained, as he had be- fore done to the steward, why he had taken Manchester in his route to North Wales; and, after lamenting his inability to render any as- sistance to the unfortunate priests, he went on to state that he had accidentally learnt, from a few words let fall by the pursuivant to his at- tendant, that a warrant had been sent by the Earl of Salisbury for Sir William Radeliffe'a arrest. " My father's arrest I" exclaimed Viviana, trembling violently. " What — what is laid to his charge ?" " Felony," rejoined Catesby, sternly — " felo- ! ny, without benefit of clergy — for so it is GUY FAVVKES. 19 accounted by the present execrable laws of our land, in liarbouring a Jesuit. Ifhe is convict- ed ofthe otTunce, his punisliment will be deatli — death on the gibbet, accompanied by indig- nities worse than those sliown to a common felon." " Holy Virgin !" ejaculated Father Oldcorne, lifting up liis hands, and raising his eyes to heaven. " From what I gathered, the officers will visit this house to-night," continued Cutesby. " Our ludy be praised, they will not find him !" cried Viviana, who had been thrown into an agony of distress. " What is to be done in this frightful emergency, holy fatlier ?" she added, turning to the priest, willi a suppli- cating look. " Heaven only knows, dear daughter," re- plied Oldcorne. " You had better appeal for counsel to one who is more able to affijrd it than I am, — Mr. Catesby. Well aware of the crafty devices of our enemies, and having often eluded tlieir snares himself, he may enable you to elude them. My own course is clear. I siiall quit this roof at once, deeply and bitterly regretting that by entering it, I have placed tiiose whom I hold so dear, and from whom I liave experienced so much kindness, in sucli fearful jeopardy." - " Oh, no, father !" exclaimed Viviana, "you shall not go." " Daughter," replied Oldcorne, solemnly, " I have long borne tlie cross of Christ, — have long endured the stripes, inflicted upon me by the adversaries of our faith, in patience; and my last actions and last breath shall testify to the truth of our holy religion. But, though I could endure aught on my own account, I cannot endure to bring misery and destruction upon others. Hinder me not, dear daughter: 1 will go at once." " Hold, father !" interposed Catesb}'. " The step you are about to take may bring about what you are most anxious to avoid. If you are discovered and apprehended in this neigh- bourhood, suspicion will still alt.ich to your protectors, and the inquisitors will wring the secret of your departuie from sonic of the do- mestics. Tarry where you are. Let the pur- suivant make his search. I will engage to baffle his vigilance." " He speaks t!ie truth, dear father," returned Viviana. " You must not — shall not dep^irt. There are plenty of hiding-places, as you know, witiiin the mansion. Let them be as rigorous as they niny in their search, they will not dis- cover you." " Whiilever course you adjudge best for the security of others I will pursue," rejoined Old- corne, turning to Catesby. " Put me out of the question." " My opinion has already been given, fa- ther," replied Catesby. "Remain where you are." " But, if the officers should ascertain that my father is at Chester, and pursue hitn thither?" cried Viviana, as if suddenly struck by a new cause of alarm. "A messenger must be immediately des- patched after him to give him warning," re- turned Catesby. " Will you be that messenger ?" asked the maiden, eagerly. " I would shed my heart's best blood to plea- sure you," returned Catesby. "Then I may count upon this service, for which, rest assured, I will not prove ungrate- ful," she rejoined. " You may," answered Catesby. " And yet I would, on Father Oldcorne's account, that my departure might be delayed till to-mor- row." "The delay might be fatal," cried Viviana- "You must be in Chester before that time." " Doubt it not," returned Catesby. " Charged with your wishes, the wind siiall scarcely out- strip my speed." So saying, he marched irresolutely towards the door, as if about to depart, when, just as he reached it, he turned sharply round, and threw himself at Viviana's feet. " Forgive me. Miss RadcliiTe," he cried, " if I once again, even at a critical moment like the present, dare to renew my suit. I fancied I had subdued my passion for you, but your presence has awakened it with greater violence than ever." " Rise, sir, I pray," rejoined the maiden, in an offended tone. " Hear me, I beseech you," continued Cates- by, seizing her hand. " Before you reject my suit, consider well that in these perilous sea- sons, when no true Catholic can call his life his own, you may need a protector." " In the event you describe, Mr. Catesby," answered Viviana, " I would at once fulfil the intention I have formed of devoting myself to Heaven, and retire to the convent of Bene- dictine nuns, founded by Lady Mary Percy, at Brussels." " You would much more effectually serve the cuuse of your religion by acceding to my suit," observed Catesby, rising. "How so?" she inquired. " Listen to me. Miss Radcliffi^" he rejoined, gravely, " and let my words be de(>ply im- pressed upon your heart. Li your hands rests the destiny of the Catholic Church." " In mine !" excliiinied Viviana. "In yours," returned C.iteshy. " A mighty blow is about to be struck for her diliverance." "Ay, marry, is it," cried Oldcorne, with sudden fervour. "Redemption draweth nigh; the yiNir of visitation apiiroiichcth to an end; and jul)ilation is at hand. England shall again be called a happy realm, a blessed ceuntry, a religious people. Those who knew the former glory of religion shall lift up their hands (or j y to see it returned again. Righteousness shall |)rosper, and infidelity be plucked up by the root. False error shall vanish like smoke, and they which saw it shall say wlicre is it become ? The daughters of Babylon shall be cast down, and in the dust lament their ruin- Proud heresy shall .strike her sail, and groan as a beast crushed und(;r a cart-wheel. The memory of novelties slial! perish with a crack, and as a ruinous house falling to the ground. 20 GUY FAWKES. Repent, ye seducers, with speed, and prevent tlie drcadtul vviatli of the Poweriible. He will Come as llariie that bnriieth out beyond tlie furnace. His fury shall Hy forth as thunder, and pilch upon their to])S that malign him. 'I'hey shiill ()crish in his fury, and melt like wax belbre tlie fire." " Amen 1'' ejaculated Catesby, as the priest concluded. " You have spoken proplietically, father.'" " I have but recited a prayer transmitted to me by Father Gurnet," rejoined Oldcorne. " Do you discern any hidden meaning in its words ?" demanded Catesby. " I do my son," returned the priest. " In the '/oise error which shall vavish like smoke,' — in the * house which shall perish with a CRACK,' — and in the ''fury winch shall fly forth as TMu.NDKR,' — I read the mode by which the great work shall be brought about." " And you applaud tlie design ?" asked Catesby, eagerly. " Non vera factum probo, sed evevtum amo," rejoined the priest. " The secret is safe in your keeping, father?" said Catesby, uneasily. " As if it had been disclosed to me in private confession," replied Oldcorne. " Hum !" muttered Catesby. " Confessions of as much consequence to the state have ere now been revealed, father." " His holiness, Clement VIII, hath passed a decree, forbidding all such revelations," replied Oldcorne. " And the question has been re- cently propounded bj' a learned brotlier of our order. Father Antonio Delrio, who, in his Magical Disquisitions, pultelh it thus : — 'Sup- posing a malefactor shall confess (hat he him- self or some other has laid Gunpowder, or the like combustible matter, under a building — ' " ■ " Ha I" exclaimed Catesby, starting. " — 'And, unless it be taken away," pro- ceeded the priest, regarding him fixedly, 'the whole house will be burnt, the prince destroyed, and as many as go into or out of the city will come to great mischief or peril I' "* " Weil !" exclaimed Catesby. " The point now arises," continued Old- * Confitptiir iiiiilcficiis sp vcl aliiim posuisse pul- vcrem vt'l (piid aliud sub tali limine, et nisi mllatitiir domiim cnnibiircnilnm, principfin intprituriiin, qnot- quot nrlicm Oirrcilientiirqut' in inafinani pcrniciiiii ant pcritnlnni vriitiiros.— Ullrio. Visg. Mag., lib. vi, cap. i. lEdit. ICOO.] corne, " whether the priest may make use of the secret thus obtained for the good of the go- vernment, and the averting of such danger; and, alter fully discussing it. Father Delrio de- cides in the negative." " Enough," observed Catesby. " By whom is the blow to be struck?" asked Viviana, who had listened to the foregoing dis- course in silent wonder. " By me," answered Catesby. " It is for you to nerve my arm." " You speak in riddles," she returned. " I understand you not." " Question Father Oldcorne then, as to my meaning," rejoined Catesby ; " he will tell you tiiat, allied to you, I could not fail in the en- terprise on which I am enj,'.iged." " It is the truth, dear daughter," Oldcorne asseverated. " I will not inquire further into this mys- tery," returned Viviana, " for such it is to me. But, believing what yon both assert, I answer, that willingly as I would lay down my life for the welfare of our holy religion, persuading myself, as I do, that I have constancy enough to endure martyrdom for its sake, — I cannot do tills. Nay, if I must avouch tiic whole truth," she continued, blushing deeply, " my affections are already engaged, — though to one with whom I can never fiope to be united." " You have your answer, my son," observed the priest. " I have," replied Catesby, with a look of the deepest mortifiotion and disappointment. " Miss Radclitfe, I now depait to obey your behests." "Commend me in all duty to my dear fa- ther," replied Viviana, " and believe tiiat I shall for ever feel bound to you for your zeal." "Neglect not all due caution, father," said Catesby, glancing significantly at Oldcorne. " ' Forewarned, forearmed.' " " Doubt me not, my son," rejoined the Jesuit. " My prayers shall be for you. fientom auferto perfidam f'rt'dcntiuni de finibus ; Ut Christo laiides debitas Persolvamus alacriter." After receiving a parting benediction from the priest, Catesby took his leave. His steed was speedily brought to the door by an attend- ant ; and mounting him, he crossed the draw- bridge, which was immediately raised behind him, and hastened on his journey. CHAPTER IV. THE SEARCH. Imaiediatki.y after Catesby 's departure, Hey- docke was summoned to his mistress's pre- sence. He found her with the priest, and was informed that in all probability the house would be visited that night by the messengers of the Privy Council. The old steward re- ceived the intelligence as he might have done his death-warrant, and looked so bewildered and affrighted, that Viviana half repented having acquainted him with it. "Compose yourself, Master Heydock," she said, trying to reason him out of his fears ; GUY FAWKES. 21 "the search may not take place. And if it does, there is noll)ing to be alarmed at. I am not afraid, you perceive." " Notliir.jr to be alarmed at, my dear young lady I" gasped tiie steward. " You have never witnessed a midnight search for a priest by these ruffianly officers, as I have, or you would not say sa Fatiier Oldcornc will comprehend my uneasiness, and excuse it. The miscreants will break into the house like thieves, and treat its iiiin;itcs worse than thieves. They have no regard for decency, — no consideration for sex, — no respect for persons. Not a cham- ber is sacred t'rom them. If a door is bolted, they burst it open ; a cabinet locked, they tarry not for the key. They pull down the hangings, thrust their rapier-points info the crevices of the wainscot, discharge their fire- arms against the wall, and sometimes threaten to pull down the house itself, if the object of their quest be not delivered to them. Their oaths, abominations, and menaces arc hor- rible ; and their treatment of females, even of your degree, honoured mistress, too barbarous to relate. Poor Lady Nevil died of the friglit she got by such a visit at dead of night to her residence in Holborn. Mrs. Vavasour, of York, lost her senses ; and many others whom I could mention have been equal sufferers. Nothing to be alarmed at! Heaven grant, my dear, dear young lady, that you may never be fatally convinced to the contrary !" " Suppose my apprehensions are as great as your own. Master HeydoeUe," replied Viviana, who, though somewhat infected by his terrors, still maintained her firmness; "I do not see how the danger that threatens us is to be averted by idle lamentations and misgivings. We must meet it boldly ; and trust to Him who is our only safeguard in the hour of peril, for protection. Do not alarm the household, but let all retire to rest as usual." " Right, daugliter," observed the priest. "Preparations for resistance would only excite suspicion." " Can you depend on the servants, in case ihey are examined ?" asked Viviana of the steward, who by this time had partly recovered his composure. " I think so," returned Heydocke ; " but the threats of the officers are so dreadful, and their conduct so violent and outrageous, that I can scarcely answer for myself I would not ad- vise your reverence to remain in that hiding- place," he added, pointing to the chimney- piece; " they are sure to discover it." " If not here, where shall I conceal myself?" rejoined Oldcorne, uneasily. " There are many nooks in which your reverence might hide," replied the steward ; "but the knaves are so crafty, and so well ex- perienced in their vocation, that I dare not re- commend any of them as secure. I would advise you to remain on the watch, and, in case of alarm, I will conduct you to the oratory in the north gallery, adjoining Mistiess Vi- viana's sleeping-chamber, where there is a panel in the wall, known only to myself and my master, opening upon a secret passage running many hundred yards under-ground, and coninmnicuting with a small outbuilding on the other side of the moat. There is a con- trivance in this passage, which I will explain to your reverence if need be, which will cut off any possibility of pursuit in that quarter." " Be it so," replied tlie priest. " I place my- self in your hands, good Master Heydocke, well assured of your fidelity. I shall remain throughout the night in this chamber, occupied in my devotions." " You will suffer me to pray with you, fa- ther, I trust," said Viviana. " If you desire it, assuredly, dear daughter," rejoined Oldcorne ; " but I am unwilling you should sacrifice your rest." " It will be no sacrifice, father, for I should find no rest, even if I sought my couch," she returned. "Go, good Heydocke. Keep vigi- lant watch : and if you hear the slightest noise without, fail not to give us warning." The steward bowed, and departed. Some hours elapsed, during which nothing occurred to alarm Viviana and her companion, who consumed the time in prayer and devout conversation ; when, just at the stroke of two, — as the former was kneeling before the spi- ritual adviser, and receiving absolution for the slight offences of which a being so pure-minded could be supposed capable, — a noise like the falling of a bar of iron was heard beneath the window. The priest turned pale, and cast a look of uneasiness at the maiden, who said nothing, but snatching up the light, and mo- tioning liim to remain quiet, hurried out of the room in search of the steward. He was no- where to be found. In vain, she examined all the lower rooms, — in vain, called to him by his name. No answer was returned. Greatly terrified, she was preparing to re- trace her steps, when she heard the sound of muttered voices in the hall. Extinguishing her light she advanced to the door, which was left ajar, and, taking care not to expose herself to observation, beheld several armed figures, some of whom bore dark lanterns, while others surrounded and menaced with their drawn swords the unfortunate steward. From their discourse she ascertained that, having thrown a plank across the moat, and concealed them- selves within the garden until they had recon- noitred the premises, they had contrived to gain admittance unperccivcd through the win- dow of a small back rbey their leader's injunctions. " Do you hear what I say to you, cravens ?" roared the pursuivant. "Cut him down with- out mercy." , " They dare not move a footstep," rejoined Guy Fawkes, in a derisive tone. " Recreants !" cried the pursuivant, foaming with rage, "is my prey to be snatched from me at the very moment I have secured it, through your cowardice ? Obey me instantly, or, as Heaven shall jydge me, I will denounce you to my Lord Derby and the Commissioners as aiders and abettors in Father Oldcorne's escape ! — and you well know what your pun- ishment will be if I do so. What ! — are you afraid of one man ?" " Our pikes are no match for his petronels," observed the foremost soldier, sullenly. " They are not," rejoined Guy Fawkes ; " and you will do well not to compel me to prove the truth of your assertion. As to you. Master Pursuivant," he continued, with a look so stern that the other quailed before it, " un- willing as I am to shed blood, I shall hold your lile, if I am compelled to take it, but just retribution for the fate you have brought upon the mifortunafe FOlizabcth Orton." "Ha!" exclaimed the pursuivant, starting. " I thought I recognised you. You arc the soldier in the S|)nnish garb who saved that false prophetess from drowning." " I saved her only for a more lingering death," rejoined (niy Fawkes. "I know it," retorted the pursuivant "I found her dead body when I visited her Cfil on my way hither, and gave orders to have il interred without coffin or shroud in that part 24 GUY FAWKES. of the burial-ground of the Collegiate Church in Manchester, which is reserved for common felons." " I know not what stays my hand," rejoined Guy Fawkes, fiercely. " But I am strongly tempted to give you a grave beside her." " I will put your daring to tlie proof I" cried the pursuivant, snatching a pike from one of his followers, and bnmdishing it over his head. " Throw down your arms, or you die 1" " Back 1" exclaimed (Juy Fawkes, present- ing a petronel at him, " or I lodge a bullet in your brain." " Be advised by me, and rush not on certain destruction, good Master Pursuivant," said the foremost soldier, plucking his mantle. "1 see by his bloodthirsty looks that the villain is in earnest." " I hear footsteps," cried the other soldier ; " our comrades are at hand." " Then it is time for me to depart," cried Guy Fawkes, springing through the secret door, and closing it after him. "Confusion!" e.\claimed the pursuivant; " but he shall not escape. Break open the panel." The order was promptly obeyed. The men battered the stout oak board, which was of great thickness, with their pikes, but it resist- ed every effort ; nor was it until the arrival of a fresh band of soldiers with lights, mallets, chisels, and other implements suitable to the purpose, that it could be forced open. This accomplished, the pursuivant, commanding his attendants to follow him, dashed through the aperture. The passage was so narrow, that they were compelled to proceed singly along it, and, as they advanced, the roof be- came so low that they were compelled to adopt a stooping posture. In this manner they hurried on until their further progress was stopped by a massive stone door, which ap- peared to descend from above by some hidden contrivance, as no trace of bolt or other fasten- ing could be detected ; bpt the flag, fitting closely in channels in the walls, had all the appearance of solid masonrj'. After examin- ing this obstacle for a moment, the pursuivant was convinced that any attempt to move it would be fruitless, and muttering a deep exe- cration, he therefore gave the word to return. " From what I have observed," he said, "this passage must communicate with the garden, — perhaps with the further side of the moat. We may yet secure them, if we use despatch." Guy Fawkes, meanwhile, had taken the same course as the pursuivant. On arriving at the point where the stone door was situated, which he discovered by the channels in the wall above-mentioned, he searched for an iron ring, and, having found it, drew it towards him, and the ponderous flag slowly dropped into its place. He then groped his way cau- tiously along in the dark, until his foot encoun- tered the lop of a ladder, down which he crept, and landed on the floor of a damp deep vault. Having taken the precaution to remove the ladder, he hastened onwards for about fifty yards, when he came to a steep flight of stone steps, distinguishable by a feeble glimmer of light from above, and mounting them, emerged through an open trap-door into a small build- ing situated at the western side of the moat, where, to his surprise and disappointment, he found the other fugitives. " How cotnes it you are here ?" hee.xclaimed in a reproachful tone. " I kept the wolves at bay thus long, to enable you to make good your retreat." "Miss RadclifFe is too weak to move," re- plied Humphrey Chetiiam ; "and I could not persuade Father Oldcorne to leave her." " 1 care not what becomes of me," said the priest. "The sooner my painful race is run the better. But I cannot — will not abandon my dear charge thus." "Think not of me, father, I implore you," rejoined Viviana, who had sunk overpowered with terror and exhaustion. " I shall be bet- ter soon. Master Chetham, I am assured, will remain with me til! our enemies have departed, and I will then return to the hall." "Command jne as you please, Mis.s Rad- clifTe," replied Humphrey Chetham. " You have but to express a wish to insure its fulfil- ment on my part." " Oh ! that you had sufTered Mr. Catesby to tarry with us till the morning, as he himself proposed, dear daughter," observed the priest, turning to Viviana. " His counsel w-ould have been invaluable at this frightful juncture." "Has Mr. Catesby been here?" inquired Guy Fawkes, with a look of astonishment. " He has," replied Oldcorne. "He came to warn us that the hall would be this night searched by the officers of state ; and he also brought word that a warrant had been issued by the Privy Council for the arrest of Sir Wil- liam RadcliflTe." " Where is he now ?" demandeu Fawkes, hastily. " On the way to Chester, whither he departed in all haste, at .Miss Radcliffe's urgent request, to apprize her father of his danger," rejoined the priest. "This is strange!" muttered Guy Fawkes. "Catesby here, and I not know it !" " He had a secret motive for his visit, my son," whispered Oldcorne, significantly. " So I conclude, father," replied Fawkes, in tlie same tone. "Miss RadclifFe," murmured Humphrey Chethain, in low and tender accents, " some- thing tells me that this moment will decide my future fate. Emboldened by the mysterious manner in which we have been brought toge- ther, and you, as it were, have been thrown upon my protection, T venture to declare the passion I have long indulged for you : — a pas- sion which, though deep and fervent as ever atritated human bosom, has hitherto, from the difference of our rank, and yet more from the difference of our religious opinions, been with- oiit hope. What has just occurred, — added to the peril in which your worthy father stands, and the difficulties in which you j-ourself will necessarily be involved, — makes rue cast asidtt GUY FAWKES. 25 ail misgiving', and perhaps with too much pre- sumption, but with a confident belief that the sincerity of my love renders me not wholly undeserving of your regard, — earnestly solicit you to give me a Imsbaiid's rigiit to watch over and defend you." Viviana was silent. But even by the im- perfect light the young mercliant could discern that her cheek was covered with blushes. " Your answer ? " he cried, taking her hand. " You must take it from my lips, Master Chetham," interposed the priest : " Miss Rad- clifte never can be yours." " Be pleased to let her speak for herself, re- verend sir," rejoined the young merchant, an- grily- " I represent her father, and have acquainted you with his determination," rejoined tiie priest. " Appeal to her, and she will confirm my words." " Viviana, is this true ?" asked Chetham. " Does your father object to your union with me ?" " He does," she replied, in a mournful tone, and gently withdrawing her hand from the young merchant's grasp. " Then there is no hope for me ?" cried Chetham. " Alas 1 no," replied Viviana ; " nor for me — of earthly affection. I am already dead to the world." " How so ?" he asked. " I am about to vow myself to Heaven," she answered. " Viviana I" exclaimed the young man, throw- ing himself at her feet, "reflect! — oh I reflect, before you take this fatal — this irrevocable step." " Rise, sir," interposed the priest, sternly ; "you plead in vain. Sir William Radclitfe will never wed his daughter to a heretic. In his name I command you to desist from fur- ther solicitation." " I obey," replied Chetham, rising. " We lose time here," observed Guy Fawkes, who had been lost for a moment in reflection. " I will undertake to provide for your safety, father. But, what must be done with Miss Radcliffe ? She cannot be lofl here. And her return to the hall would be attended with dan- ger." " I will not return till the miscreants have quitted it," said Viviana. " Their departure is uncertain," replied Fawkes. " When they are baulked of their prey they sometimes haunt a dwelling for weeks." " What will become of me ?" cried Viviana, distractedly. •' It were vain, I fear, to entreat you to ac- cept an asylum with my father at Clayton Hall, or at my own residence at Crumpsall," said Humphrey Chetham. " Your offer is most kind, sir," replied Old- corne, "and is duly appreciated. But Miss Radcliffe will see the propriety — on every ac- count — of declining it." " I do — I do," she acquiesced. 3 D " Will you entrust yourself to my protection, Miss Radcliffe ?" said Fawkes. "Willingly," replied the priest, answering for her. " We shall find some pluce of re- fuge," he added, turning to Viviana, " where your father can join us, and where we can remain concealed till this storm has blown over." " I know many such," rejoined Fawkes, " both in this county, and in Yorkshire, and will guide you to one." " My horses are at your service," said Hum- phrey Chetham. " They are tied beneath the trees in the avenue. My servant shall bring them to the door," and, turning to his attend- ant, he gave him directions to that effect. " I was riding hither an hour before midnight," he continued, addressing Viviana, "to offer you assistance, having accidentally heard the pursuivant mention his meditated visit to Ord- sall Hall to one of his followers, when, as I approached the gates, this person," pointing to Guy Fawkes, " crossed my path, and, seizing the bridle of my steed, demanded whether I was a friend to Sir William Radcliffe. I an- swered in the affirmative, and desired to know the motive of his inquiry. He then told me that the house was invested by a numerous band of armed men, who had crossed the moat by means of a plank, and were at that mo- ment concealed within the garden. This in- telligence, besides filling me with alarm, dis- concerted all my plans, as I hoped to have been beforehand with them, — their inquisitorial searches being generally made at a late hour, when all the inmates of a house intended to be surprised are certain to have retired to rest. While I was bitterly reproaching myself for my dilatoriness, and considering what course it would be best to pursue, my servant, Martin Heydocke, — son to your father's steward, — who had ridden up at the stranger's approach, informed me tliat he was acquainted with a secret passage communicating beneath the moat with the hall. Upon this I dismounted, and fastening my horse to a tree, ordered him to lead me to it without an instant's delay. The stranger, who gave his name as Guy Fawkes, and professed himself a stanch Catho- lic, and a friend of Father Oldcornc, begged permission to join us in a tone so earnest that I at once acceded to his request. We then proceeded to this building, and after some search discovered the trap-door. Much time was lost, owing to our being unprovided with lights, in the subterranean passage ; and it was more than two hours before we eould find the ring connected with the stonc-door, the mystery of which Martin explained to us. This delay we feared would render our scheme abortive, when, just as we reached the panel we heard your shrieks. The spring was touched, and — you know the rest." " And shall never forget it," replied Viviana, in a tone of the deepest gratitude. At this juncture, the tramp of horses was heard at the door ; and the next moment it was thrown open by the younger Heydocke, who, with a look, and in a voice of the utmost 26 GUY FAWKES. terror, exclaimed, " They are coming ! — tliey are coming !" "The pursuivant?' cried Guy Fawkes. " Not him alone, but the whole gang," re- joined Martin. "Some of them are lowering the drawbridge, while others are crossing the plank. Several are on horseback, and I think I discern the pursuivant amongst tlie number. They have seen me, and are hurrying in this direction." As he spoke, a loud shout corroborated his Btatcment. " We are lost !" exclaimed Oldcorne. " Do not despair, tkther," rejoined Guy Fawkes. " Heaven will mjt abandon its faith- ful servants. The Lord will deliver us out of the hands of these Amalekites." "To horse, then, if you would indeed avoid them," urged Humphrey Chetham. " The shouts grow louder. Your enemies are fast approaching." "Miss Radcliffe," said Guy Fawkes, "are you willing to tly with us ?" " I will do anything rather than be left to those horrible men," she answered. Guy Fawkes then raised her in his arms, and sprang with his lovely burden upon the nearest charger. His example was quickly followed by Humphrey Chetham, who, vault- ing on the other horse, assisted the priest to mount behind him. While this took place Martin darted into the shed, and instantly bolted the door. It was a beautiful moonlight night, almost as bright as day, and the movements of each party were therefore fully revealed to the other. Guy Fawkes perceived at a glance that they were surrounded ; and, though he had no fears for himself, was full of apppre- hcnsion for the safety of his companion. While he was debating with himself as to the course it would be be.-^l to pursue, Humphrey Chetham shouted to him to turn to the left, and started off in tliat direction. Grasping liis fair charge, whom he had placed before him on the saddle, firmly with his left arm, and wrapping her in his ample cloak, Guy Fawkes drew his sword, and striking spurs into his steed, followed in the same track. The little fabric which had afforded them temporary shelter, it has already been men- tioned, was situated on the west of the hall, at a short distance from tiie moat, and was screened from observation by a small shrub- bery. No sooner did the fugitives emerge from this cover than loud outcries were raised by their antagonists, and every effort was made to intercept them. On the right, gal- loping towards them on a light, but swifl courser, taken from Sir William Radeliffe's etables, came the pursuivant, attended by half- a-dozen troopers, w^ho had accommodated them- selves with horses in the same manner as their leader. Between them and the road leading to Manchester were stationed several armed men on foot. At the rear, voices proclaimed that others were in full pursuit ; while in front, a fourth detachment menaced them with their pikes. Thus beset on all sides, it seemed scarcely possible to escape. Nothing daunted, however, by the threats and vociferations with which they were received, the two horsemen boldly charged this party. The encounter was instantaneous. Guy Fawkes warded off a blow, — whicl), if it had taken etleet, must have robbed Miss Radcliffe of life, — and struck down the fellow who aimed it. At the same moment, his career was checked by another assailant, who, catching his bridle with the hook of his pike, commanded him to surrender.' Fawkes replied by cleaving the man's staff asunder, and having thus disembarrassed liimself, was about to pursue his course when he perceived that Humphrey Chetham was in imminent danger from a couple of soldiers, who had stopped hiui, and were trying to un- horse his companion. Riding up to them, Guy Fawkes, by a vigorous and well-directed attack, speedily drove them off; and the fugi- tives, being now unimpeded, were enabled to continue their career. The foregoing occurrences were witnessed by the pursuivant with the utmost rage and vexation. Pouring forth a torrent of threats and imprecations, he swore he would never rest till he had secured them, and urging his courser to its utmost speed, commanded his men to give chase. Skirling the brink of a sluice which served to convey the water of the Irwell to the moat, Humphrey Chetham, — who, as belter acquaint- ed with the country than his companion, took the lead, — proceeded in this direction for about a hundred yards, when he suddenly struck across a narrow bridge covered with sod, and I entered the open fields. Hitherto, Viviana had remained silent. Though fully aware of the risk she had run, she gave no sign of alarm, — not even when the blow was aimed against her life. And it was only now that she con- ceived the danger was in some degree passed that she ventured to express her gratitude. " You have displayed so much courage. Miss Radcliffe," said Guy Fawkes, in iinswer to hc^- speech, " that it would be unpardonable to de- ceive you. Our foes are too near us, and too well mounted, to make it by any means cer- tain we shall escape them, — unless by strata- gem." " They are within an hundred yards of us," cried Humphrey Chetham, glancing fearfully backwards. " They have possessed themselves of your father's fleetest horses. And, if 1 mis- take not, the rascally pursuivant has .secured your favourite barb." " My gentle Zayda !" exclaimed Viviana. "Then indeed we are lost. She has not her match for speed." " If she brings her rider to us alone, she will do us good service," observed Guy Fawkes, significantly. The same notion, almost at the same mo- ment, occurred to the pursuivant. Having witnessed the prowess displayed by Guy Fawkes in his recent attack upon the soldiers, he felt no disposition to encounter so formi- able an opponent single-handed ; and finding that the highrmettled barb on which he wa* GUY FAWKES. 27 mounted, by its superior speed and fiery tem- per, would inevitably place him in such a di- lemma, he prudently resolved to halt, and ex- changee it for a more manageable steed. This delay was of great service to the fugi- tives, and enabled them to get considerably ahead. They had now gained a narrow lane, and tracking it, speedily reached the rocky banks of the Irvvell. Galloping along a foot- path which followed the serpentine course of the stream for a quarter of a mile, they arrived at a spot marked by a bed of osiers, where Humphrey Chetham informed them the river was fordable. Accordingly, they plunged into the water, and while stemming the current, which here ran with great swiftness, and rose up above the saddles, the neighing of a steed was heard from the bank they had quitted. Turning at the sound, Viviana beheld lier favourite courser on the summit of a high rock. The soldier to whom Z.iyda was intrusted had speedily, as tlie pursuivant foresaw, distanced his compa- nions, and had chosen this elevated position to take sure aim at Guy Fawkes, against whom lie was now levelling a caliver. The next mo- ment a bullet struck against his brigandine, but without doing him the slightest injury. The soldier, however, did not escape so lightly. Startled by the discharge, the fiery barb leapt from the precipice into the river, and throwing her rider, who was borne off by the rapid stream, swam after her mistress. She reached the opposite bank just as the others were land- ing, and at the sound of Viviana's voice stood still, and allowed Humphrey Chetham to lay hold of her bridle. Viviana declaring she was able to mount her, Guy Fawkes, who felt that such an arrangement was most likely to con- duce to her safety, and who was, moreover, in- clined to view the occurrence as a providential interference in their behalf, innnediately as- sisted her into the saddle. Before this transfer could be effected, the pursuivant and his attendants had begun to ford the stream. The former had vi'itnessed the accident which had befallen the soldier from a short distance ; and while he affected to deplore it, internally congratulated himself on his prudence and foresight. But he was by no means so well satisfied when he saw how it served to benefit the fugitives. "That unlucky beast!" he exclaimed. — " Some fiend must have prompted mc to bring her out of the stable. Would she had drowned herself instead of poor Dickon Duckesbury, whom she hath sent to feed the fishes ! With her aid. Miss Radcliffe will doubtless escape. No matter. If I secure Father Oldcorne, and that black. visaged trooper in the Spanish garb, who, I '11 be sworn, is a secret intelligencer of the pope, if not of the devil, I shall be well contented. I'll hang them both on a gibbet higher than Haman's." •• ' And muttering other threats to the same ef- fect, he picked his way to the opposite shore. Long before he reached it, the fugitives had disappeared. But on climbing the bank, he beheld them galloping swiftly across a well- wooded district steeped in moonlight, and spread out before his view; and, infiamcd by the sight, he shouted to his attendants, and once more started in pursuit. Cheered by the fortunate incident above re- lated, which, in presenting her with her own steed in a manner so surprising and unexpect- ed, seemed almost to give her assurance of de- liverance, Viviana, inspirited by the exercise, felt her strength and spirits rapidly revive. At her side rode Guy Fawkes, who ever and anon east an anxious look behind, to ascertain the distance of their pursuers, but suffered no ex- clamation to escape his lips. Indeed, through- out the whole affair, he maintained the reserve which belonged to his sombre and taciturn character, and neither questioned Humphrey Chetham as to where he was leading them, nor proposed any deviation from the route be had apparently chosen. To such remarks as were addressed to him Fawkes answered in monosyllables ; and it was only when occasion required, that he volunteered any observation or advice. He seemed to surrender himself to chance. And perhaps, if his bosom could have been examined, it would have been found that he considered himself a mere puppet in the hands of destiny. In other and calmer seasons, he might have dwelt with rapture on the beautiful and varied country through which they were speeding, and which, from every knoll they mounted, every slope they descended, every glade they threaded, intricacy pierced, or tangled dell tracked, presented new and increasing attrac- tions. This charming district, which has since been formed into a park by the Traffords, from whom it derives its present designation, was at this time, — though part of the domain of that ancient family, — wholly unenclosed. Old Traf- ford Hall lies (for it is still in existence,) more than a mile nearer to Manchester, a little to the east of Ordsall Hall ; but the modern re- sidence of the family is situated in the midst of the lovely- region through which the fugi- tives were riding. But, though the charms of the scene, height- ened by the gentle medium through which they were viewed, produced little effect upon the iron nature of Guy Fawkes, they were not without influence on his companions, especially Viviana. Soothed by the stillness of all around her, she almost forgot her danger ; and sur- rendering herself to the dreamy enjoyment generally experienced in contemplating such a scene at such an hour, suffered her gaze to wander over the fair woody landscape before her, till it was lost in the distant moonlit wolds. From tile train of thought naturally awaken- ed by this spectacle, she was roused by the shouts of the pursuers; and, glancing fearfully behind her, she beheld them hurrying swiftly along the valley they had just quitted. From the rapidity with which they were advancing, it was evident they were gaining upon them, and she was about to urge her courser to greater speed, when Humphrey Chetham laid his hand upon the rein to check her. " Reserve yourself, till we gain the brow of 28 GUY FAWKES. tills hill," lie remarked ; " and then put Zayda to her inutile. We are not far I'roni our des- tination." " Indeed I" exclaimed Viviana. " Where is it?" " I will show it you presently," he an- swered. Arrived at the summit of tlie high ground, which they had been for some time gradually ascending, the youtig merchant pointed out a vast boggy tract, about two miles off, in tlie vale beneath them. " 1'hat is our destination," he said. " Did I not hold it impossible you could triHe with nic at such a time as this, Master Chetham, I should say you were jesting," re- joined Viviana. " The place you indicate, un- less I mistake you, is Chat Moss, the largest and most d:ingcrous marsh in Lancashire." " You do not mistake nie, neither am I jest- ing. Miss Radclitie," replied the young mer- chant, gravely. " Chat Moss is the mark at which 1 aim." " If we arc to cross it, we shall need a Will- o'-the-wisp to guide us, and some friendly elf to make firm the ground beneath our steeds," rejoined Viviana, in a slightly sarcastic tone. " Trust to me, and you shall traverse it in safety," said Humphrey Chetham. " I would sooner trust myself to the pursui- vant and his band, than venture upon its treach- erous surface," she replied. " How is this, young sir," interposed Guy Fawkes, sternly. " Is it from jieedlessness or rashness that you are about to expose us to this new danger ? — which, if Miss Radeliffe judges correctly, and my own experience of such places inclines me to think siie does so, — is greater than that which now besets us." " If there is any danger, I shall be tlie first to encounter it, for I propose to act as guide," returned Humphrey Chetliam, in an offended tone. " But the treacherous character of the marsh constitutes our safety. I am acriuainted with a narrow path across it, from which the deviation of a foot will bring certain death. If our pursuers attempt to follow us, their de- struction is inevitable. Miss Radeliffe may rest assured that I would not needlessly expose so dear a life as hers. But it is our best chance of safety." " Master Chetham is in the right," observed the priest. " I have heard of tlie path he de- scribes ; and if he can guide us along it, we shall effectually baffle our enemies." " I cry you mercy, sir," said Viviana. " I did not apprehend your meaning. But I now thankfully resign myself to your care." " Forward, then," cried the young mer- chant. And they dashed swiRly down the declivity. Chat .Moss, towards which they were hast- ening, though now drained, in part cultivated, and traversed liy the busiest and most-fre- quented rail-road in England, or the world, ■was, within the recollection of many of the youngest of the present generation, a dreary and almost impassable waste. Surveyed from the heights of Dunham, whence the writer has oflen gazed upon it, envying the plover her wing to skiin over its broad expanse, it pre- sented, with its bliicli boggy soil, striped like a motley garment, witli patches of grey, taw- ny, and dumiisli red, a singular and mysterious appearance. C'onjceture tixes this morass as tlie site of a vast forest, whose imniciiiorial and Druid-haunted groves were burnt by the Ro- man invaders ; and seeks to account for its present condition by supposing that the charred trees — still frequently found within its depths — being lefl where the conflagration had placed them, had choked up its brooks and springs, and so reduced it to a general swamp. Dray- ton, however, in the following lines from the Faerie Land, places its origin as far back as the Deluge ; Great Chat Mnss at my fall Lies full of turf and marl, licr uiicIudus mineral; And blocks as black as pitch, with boring augers fouird There at the General Flood supposed to be drown'd. But the former hypothesis appears the more probable. A curious description of Chat Moss, as it appeared at tiie time of tliis history, is furnished by Camden, who terms it " a swampy tract, of great extent, a considerable part of which was carried off in the last age by swollen rivers, with great danger, whereby the rivers were infected, and great quantities of fish died. Instead thereof, is now a valley watered by a small stream, and many trees were discovered thrown down, and lying fiat, so that one may suppose when the ground lay neglected, and the waste water of brooks was not drained olT into the open valleys, or their courses stopped by neglect or desolation, all the lower grounds were turned into swamps, (which we call mosses), or into pools. If this was the case, no wonder so many i-ces are found covered, and as it were, buried in such places all over Enghmd, but especially here. For the roots being loosened by too excessive wet, they must necessarily fall down and sink in so soft a soil. 1"he people hereabouts search for them with poles and sjiits, and after mark- ing the place, dig them up, and use them for firing, for they are like toiehes, equally fit to burn and to give light, whieii is probably owing to the bituminous eailh that surrounds them, whence the common people suppose them firs, though Cffisar denies that theie were such trees in Britain." But, though vast masses of the bog had been carried off by the Irwell and the Mersey, as related by Camden, the general ajipearance of the waste, — with the exception of the valley and the small stream, — was much the same as it continued to our own time. Its surface was more broken and irregular, and black-gaping chasms and pits, filled with water and slime as dark-coloured as the turf from whieli it flowed, pointed out the spots where the swollen and heaving swamp had burst its bondage. Narrow paths, known only to the poor turf- cutters, and other labourers, who dwelt upon its borders, and gathered fuel in the manner above described, intersected it at various points. But, as they led in many cases to dangerous GUY FAWKES. 29 and deep pnlfs, to dismal qnajmires, and fath- omless pits ; and, moreover, as the slightest departure from tlie proper track would have whelmed the traveller in an oozy bed, from which, as from a quicksand, he would have vainly striven to extricate himself, — it was never crossed without a guide, except by those familiar with its perilous courses. One pain- ful circumstance connected with the history of Chat Moss remains to be mentioned, namely, that the attempt made to cultivate it by the great historian, Roscoe, — an attempt since carried out, as has already been shown, with complete success, — ended in a result ruinous to the fortunes of that highly-gifted person, who, up to the period of this luckless under- taking, was as prosperous as he was meri- torious. By this time, the fugitives had approached the confines of the marsh. An accident, how- ever, had just occurred, which nearly proved fatal to Viviana, and, owing to the delay it oc- casioned, brought their pursuers into danger- ous proximity with them. In fording the Ir- well, whjch, from its devious course, they were again compelled to cross, about a quarter of a mile below Barton, her horse missed its foot- ing, and precipitated her into the rapid current. In another instant, she would have been borne away, if Guy Fawkes had not flung himself into the stream, and seized her before she sank. Her affrighted steed, having got out of its depth, began to swim off", and it required the utmost exertion on the part of Humphrey Chethani, embarrassed as he was by the priest, to secure it. In a few minutes, all was set to right, and Viviana was once more placed on the saddle, without having sustained farther inconvenience than was occasioned by her dripping appuel. But those few minutes, as has been just stated, sufficed to bring the pur- suivant and his men close upon them; and, as they scrambled up the opposite bank, the plunging and shouting behind them told that the litter had entered the stream. " Yonder is Baysnape," exclaimed Hum- phrey Chetham, calling Viviana's attention to a ridge of high ground on tiie borders of the waste. "Below it lies the path by which I propose to enter the moss. We shall speedily be out of the reach of our enemies." " The marsh will at least hide us," answer- ed Viviana, with a shudder. " It is a terrible alternative." " Fear nothing, dear daughter," observed the priest. " The saints who have thus mar- vellously protected us, will continue to watch over us to the end, and will make the path over yon perilous waste as safe as the ground on which we tread." " I lilce not-the appearance of the sky," ob- served Guy Fawkes, looking uneasily upwards. " Before we reach the spot you havellarmine, and the no less celebrated Clavius, he made such pro- gress, that upon the indisposition of the latter, he was able to fill the matliematical chair. Nor was he less skilled in phi- losophy, metaphysics, and divinity; and his knowledge of Hebrew was so profound, that he taught it publicly in the Roman schools. To an enthusiastic zeal in the cause of the religion he had espoused, Garnet ad- ded great powers of persuasion and elo- quence — a combination of (|ualities well fitting him for the office of a missionary priest; and undismayed by the dangers he would have to encounter, and eager to pro- pagate his doctrines, he solicited to be sent on this errand to his own country. Hav- ing, at the instance of Father Persons, re- ceived an appointment to the mission in 1586, he secretly landed in England in the same year. Braving every danger, and shrinking from no labor, he sought on all hands to make proselytes to the ancient taith, and to sustain the wavering courage of its professors. Two years afterwards, on the imprisonment of the Superior of the Jesuits, being raised to that important post, he was enabled to extend his sphere of ac- tion; and redoubling his exertions in con- sequence, he so well discharged his duties, that it was mainly owing to him that the Catholic party was kept together during the fierce persecutions of the latter end of ElizabetlVs reign. Compelled to personate various charac- ters, as he travelled from place to place, Garnet had acquired a remarkable facility for disguise; and such was his address and courage, that he not unfrequenlly imposed upon the very officers sent in pursuit of him. Up to the period of Elizabeth's de- mise he had escaped arrest; and, though involved in the treasonable intrigue with the king of Spain, and other conspiracies, he procured a general pardon under the great seal. His office and profession na- turally brought him into contact with the chief Catholic families throughout the kingdom; and he maintained an active cor- respondence with many of them, by means of his various agents and emissaries. The great object of his life being the restora- tion of the fallen religion, to accomplish this, as he conceived, great and desirable end, he was prepared to adopt any means, however violent or obnoxious. When, under the seal of confession, Catesby re- vealed to him his dark designs, so far from discouraging him, all he counselled was caution. Having tested the disposition of the wealthier Konianisls to rise against their oppressors, and finding a general re- volt, as has before been stated, impractica- ble, he gave every encouragement and as- sistance to the conspiracy forming among the more desperate and discontented of the party. At his instigation, the present pil- grimage to Saint Winifred's Well wa's undertaken, in the hope that, when so large a body of the Catholics were col- lected together, some additional aid to the project might be obtained. One of the most mysterious and inex- plicable portions of Garnet's history is that relating to Anne Vaux. 'I'his lady, the daughter of Lord Vaux of Harrowden, a rigid Catholic nobleman, and one of Gar- net's earliest patrons and friends, on the death of her father, in 15!)5, attached her- self to his fortunes — accompanied liim in all his missions — shared all his privations and dangers — and, regardless of calunmy, or reproach, devoted herself entirely to his service. What is not less singular, her sister, who had married a Catholic gentle- 48 GUY FAWKES. man named Brooksby, hocame his equally zealous attendant. Tiieir entliusiasm pro- duced a similar effect on Mr. Brooksby; and wherever Garnet went, all three ac- companied him. By his side, on the present occasion, stood a remarkably handsome young man, with a tall and stately fiirure, and a noble countenance. This was Sir Everard Dig- by. Accounted one of the handsomest, mostaccomplished, and best-informed men of his time. Sir Everard, at the period of tliis history only twenty-four, had mar- ried, when scarcely sixteen, Maria, heiress of the ancient and honorable family of Mulshoe, with whom he obtained a large fortune, and the magnificent estate of Go- thurst, or Gaythurst, in Buckinghamshire. Knighted by James the First at Belvoir Castle, on his way from Scotland to Lon- don, Sir Everard, who had once formed one of tlie most brilliant ornaments of the court, had of late in a great degree retired from it. " Notwitiistanding," writes Fa- ther Greenway, " that he had dwelt much in the Queen's court, and was in the way of obtaining honors and distinction by his graceful manners and rare parts, he chose rather to bear the cross with the persecu- ted Catholics, et vivere abjedus in domo Domini, than to sail through the pleasures of a palace and the prosperities of the world, to the shipwreck of his conscience and the destruction of his soul." Having only when he completed his minority pro- fessed the Catholic religion, he became deeply concerned at its fallen state, and his whole thoughts were bent upon its re- storation. This change in feeling was owing chiefly, if not altogether, to Garnet, by whom his conversion had been accom- plished. Digby was richly attired in a black vel- vet doublet, with sleeves slashed with white satin, and wore a short mantle of the same material, similarly lined. He had the enormous trunk hose heretofore mentioned as the distinguishing peculiarity of the costume of the period, and wore black velvet shoes, ornamented with white Toses. An ample rulf encircled his throat. His hat was steeple-crowned, and some- what broader in the leaf than was ordina- rily worn, and shaded with a plume of black feathers. His hair was raven-black, and he wore a pointed beard, and mousta- ches. By this time, the group had been joined by the olliers, and a friendly greeting took place. Guy Fawkes was presented by Catesby to Sir William liadclifle and Sir Everard Digby. To Garnet he required no introduction, and Father Oldcorne was known to all. Aflt^r a little further con- versation, the party adjourned to the house which belonged to a Welsh Catholic gen- tleman, named Griflllhs, who, though ab- sent at the time, had surrendered it to the use of Sir Everard Digby and his friends. On their entrance, Viviana was intro- duced by her father to Lady Digby, who presided as hostess, and welcomed her with great cordiality. She was then conducted to her own room, where she was speedily joined by Sir William, and they remained closeted together till summoned to the principal meal of the day. At the table, which was most hospitably served, Vivi- ana found, in addition to her former com- panions, a large assemblage, to most of whom she was a stranger, consisting of Anne Vaux, Mr. Brooksby and his wife, Ambrose Kookwood, two brothers named Winter, two Wrights, Francis Tresham — ■ persons of whom it will be necessary to make particular mention hereafter — and several others, in all amounting to thirty. The meal over, the company dispersed, and Viviana and her father, passing tiirough an open window, wandered forth upon a beautiful and spreading lawn, and thence under the shade of the beech-trees. They had not been long here, anxiously confer- ring on recent events, when they perceived Garnet and Catesby approaching. " Father, dear father!" cried Viviana, hastily, " I was about to warn you; but I have not time to do so now. Some dark and dangerous plot is in agitation to restore our religion. Mr. Catesby is anxious to league you with it. Do not — do not yield- to his solicitations!" " Fear nothing on that score, Viviana," replied Sir William; " I have already per- plexities enow, without adding to them." "I will leave you, then," she replied. And, as soon as the others came up, she made some excuse for withdrawing, and returned to the house. The window of her chamber commanded the avenue, and from it she watched the group. They remained for a long time pacing up and down, in earnest conversation. By and by, they were joined by Oldcorne and Fawkes. Then came a third party, consisting of the two Winters and two Wrights; and lastly. Sir Everard Digby and Tresham swelled the list. The assemblage was then ha- rangued by Catesby, and the most pro- found attention paid to his address. Vi- viana kept her eye fixed upon her father's countenance, and from its changing ex- pression inferred what effect the speech l)roduced upon him. At its conclusion, the assemblage se])arated in little groups; and she perceived, with great uneasiness, that Father Garnet passed his arm through that of her father, and led him away. Some time elapsed, and neither of them re-ap- peared. GUY F A W K E S. 49 " My warning vrzs in vain, lie Aas joined them!" slie exclaimed. " No, Viviana!" cried her father's voice behind her. "I have nol joined them. Nor s/iall I do so." " Heaven be praised!" she exclaimed, flinging- her arms around his neck. Neither of them were aware that they were overheard by Garnet, who had noise- lessly followed Sir William into the room, and muttered to himself — " For all this, he shal/ join the plot, and she shall wed Catesby. He then coughed slightly, to annonnce his presence; and, apologising to Viviana for the intrusion, told her he came to con- fess her previously to the celebration of mass, which would take place that evening, in a small chapel in the house. Wholly obedient to the command of her spiritual advisers, Viviana instantly signified her assent; and, her father having withdrawn, she laid open the inmost secrets of her heart to the Jesuit. Severely reprobating her love for a heretic, before he would give her absolution, Garnet enjoined her, as a penance, to walk barefoot to Saint Wini- fred's Well on the morrow, and to make a costly offering at her shrine. Compliance being promised to his injunction, he pro- nounced the absolution, and departed. Soon after this, mass was celebrated by Garnet and the two priests, and the sacra- ment administered to the assemblage. An hour before daybreak, the party again assembled in the chapel, where ma- tins were performed; after which, the female devotees, who were clothed in snow-white woollen robes, with wide sleeves and hoods, and having large black crosses woven in front, retired for a short time, and re-appeared, with their feet bared, and hair unbound. Each had a large rosary attached to the cord that bound her waist. Catesby thought Viviana had never ap- peared so lovely as in this costume; and as he gazed at her white and delicately formed feet, her small rounded ankles, her dark and abundant tresses falling in show- ers almost to the ground, he became more deeply enamored than before. His pas- sionate gaze was, however unnoticed, as the object of it kept her eyes steadily fixed on the ground. Lady Digby, who was a most beautiful woman, scarcely ap- peared to less advantage; and, as she walked side by side with Viviana in the procession, the pair attracted universal ad- miration from all who beheld them. Everything being at last in readiness, and the order of march fully arranged, two youthful choristers, in surplices, ciianting a hymn to Saint Winifred, set forth. — They were followed by two men bearing silken banners, on one of which was dis- played the martyrdom of the saint whose shrine they were about to visit, and on the other a lamb carrying a cross; next came Fathers Oldcorne and Fisher, each sus- taining a large silver crucifix; next, Gar- net alone, in the full habit of his order; next, the females in the attire before de- scribed, and walking two and two; next Sir Everard Digby, and Sir William Rad- clifTe; and lastly, the rest of the pilgrims, to the number of fourteen. These were all on foot. But at the distance of fifty paces behind them rode Guy Fawkes and Catesby, at the head of twenty well-armed and well-mounted attendants, intended to serve as a guard in case of need. In such order, this singular precession moved forward at a slow pace, taking its course along a secluded road leading to the ridge of hills extending from the neighbor- hood of Wrexham to Mold, and from thence, in an almost unbroken chain, to Holywell. Along these heights, whence magnificent views were obtained of the broad estuary of the Dee and the more distant ocean, the train proceeded without interruption; and though the road selected was one seldom traversed, and through a country thinly peopled, still, the rumor of the pilgrimage having gone abroad, hundreds were sta- tioned at different points to behold it. Some expressions of disapprobation were occasionally manifested by the spectators; but the presence of the large armed force effectually prevented any interference. Whenever such a course could be pur- sued, the procession took its way over the sward. Still the sufferings of the females were severe in the extreme; and before Viviana had proceeded a mile her soft and tender feet were cut and bruised by the sharp flints over which she walked; every step she took leaving a bloody print be- hind it. Lady Digby was in little better condition. But such was the zeal by which they, in common with all the other devotees following them, were animated, that not a single murmur was uttered. Proceeding in this way, they reached at mid-day a small stone chapel on the sum- mit of the hill overlooking Plasnewydd, where they halted, and devotions being performed, the females bathed their lace- rated limbs in a neighboring brook, after which they were rubbed with a cooling and odorous ointment. Thus refreshed, they again set ibrward, and halting a second time at Plasiaf, where similar religious ceremonies were observed, they rested for the day at a lodging prepared for tiieir re- ception in the vicinity of Mold. The niglit being passed in jiraycr, early in the morning they commenced their march in the same order as bolbrc. When 60 GUY FAWKES. Viviana first set her feet to the ground, she felt as if she were treading on hot iron, and tlie pain she endured, was so excruci- ating, that she could not repress a cry. " Heed not your sutTerings, dear daugh- ter," observed Garnet, compassionately. "The waters of the holy fountain will heal the wounds hoth of soul and body." Overcoming her agony by a powerful effort, she contrived to limp forward; and the whole party was soon after in motion. Halting for two hours at Pentre-Terfyn, and again at Skcviog, the train, towards evening, reached the summit of the hill overlooking Holywell, at the foot of which could be seen the reverend walls of Ba- singwerk Abbey, and the roof of the ancient chapel erected over the sacred spring. At this sight, those who were foremost in the procession fell on their knees; and the horsemen dismounting, imi- tated their example. An earnest supplica- tion to 8aint Winifred was then poured forth by Father Garnet, in which all the others joined, and a hymn in her honor chaunted by the choristers. Their devotions ended, the whole train arose, and walked slowly down the deep descent. As they entered the little town, which owes its name and celebrity to the miraculous spring rising within it, they were met by a large concourse of people, who had flocked from Flint and the other neighboring places to witness the ceremo- nial. INlost of tiie inhabitants of Holywell holding their saintly patroness in the deep- est veneration, viewed this pilgrimage to her slirine as a proper tribute of respect, while those of tiie opposite faith were greatly impressed by it. As the proces- sion advanced, the crowd divided into two lines to allow it passage, and many fell on their knees imploring a blessing from Gar- net, which he in no instance refused. When within a hundred yards of the sa- cred well, they were met by a priest fol- lowed by another small train of pilgrims. A Latin oration having been pronounced by this priest, and replied to in the same language by Garnet, the train was once more put in motion, and presently reached the ancient fabric built over the sacred fountain. The legend of Saint W'inifred is so well known, that it is scarcely necessary to re- peat it. P"'or the benefit of the uninformed, however, it may be staled that she flour- ished about the middle of the seventh century, and was the daughter of Thewith, one of the chief lords of \Vales. Devoutly educated by a monk named I3euno, who afterwards received canonization, she took the veil, and retired to a small monastery (the ruins of which still exist), built by her father near the scene of her subsequent martyrdom. Persecuted by the addresses of Caradoc, son of Alan, Prince of Wales, she fled from him to avoid his violence. He followed, and, inflamed by fury at her resistance, struck off" her head. For this atrocity, the earth instantly opened and swallowed him alive, while from the spot where the head had fallen gushed forth a fountain of unequalled force and purity, producing more than a hundred tons a minute. The bottom of this miraculous well, even at the present day, is strewn with pebbles streaked with red veins, in memory of the virgin saint from whose blood it sprung. On its margin grows an odorous moss, while its gelid and translu- cent waters are esteemed a remedy for many disorders. Winifred's career did not terminate with her decapitation. Re- suscitated by the prayers of Saint Beuno, she lived many years a life of the utmost sanctity, bearing, as a mark of the miracle performed in her behalf, a narrow crimson circle round her throat. Passing the chapel adjoining the well, built in the reign of Henry the Seventh by his mother, the pious Countess of Rich- mond, the pilgrims came to the swift clear stream rushing from the well. Instead of ascending the steps leading to the edifice built over the spring, they plunged into the stream, and crossing it, entered the structure by a doorway on the further side. Erected by the Countess of Richmond at the same period as the chapel, this struc- ture, quadrangular in form, and of great beauty, consists of light clustered pillars and mouldings, supporting the most gor- geous tracery and groining, the whole be- ing ornamented with sculptured bosses, pendent capitals, fretwork, niches, and tabernacles. In the midst is a large stone basin, to receive the water of the fountain, around which the procession now grouped, and, as soon as all were assembled, at the command of Father Garnet they fell on their knees. It was a solemn and striking sight to see this large group prostrated around that beautiful fountain, and, covered by that ancient structure — a touching thing to hear the voice of prayer mingling with the sound of the rushing water. After this, they all arose. A hymn was then chaunted, and votive off'erings made at the shrine of the saint. The male portion of the assemblage then followed Garnet to the chapel, where further religious rites were performed, while the female devotees, remaining near the fountain, re- signed themselves to the care of several attendants of their own sex, who, having bathed their feet in the water, applied some of the fragrant moss above described to the wounds; and, such was the faith of GUY FAWKES. 51 the patients, or the virtue of the applica- tion, tliat in a short time tliey all felt per- fectly restored, and able to join their com- panions in the chapel. In this way, the evening was spent; and it was not until late that they finished their devotions, and departed to the lodgings provided for tiiem in the town. Impressed with a strange superstitious feeling, which he would scarcely acknow- ledge to himself, Guy Fawkes determined to pass the night near the well. Accord- ingly, without communicating his inten- tion to his companions, he threw a small knapsack over his shoulder, containing a change of linen, and a few articles of at- tire, and proceeded thither. It was a brilliant moonlight night, and, as the radi- ance, streaming through the thin clustered columns of the structure, lighted up its fairy architecture, and fell upon the clear cold waves of the fountain, revealing the blood-streaked pebbles beneath, the etTect was inexpressibly beautiful. So charmed was Guy Fawkes by the sigiit, that he re- mained for some time standing near the edge of the basin, as if fascinated by the marvellous spring that boiled up and sparkled at his feet. Resolved to try the efficacy of the bath, he threw off his clothes, and plunged into it. The water was cold as ice; but on emerging from it he felt wonderfully refreshed. Having dressed himself, he wrapped his cloak around him, and throwing himself on the stone floor, placed the knapsack under his head, and grasping a petronel in his right hand, to be ready in case of a surprise, disposed himself to slumber. Accustomed to a soldier's couch, he soon fell asleep. He had not long closed his eyes when he dreamed that from out the well, a female figure, slight and unsubstantial as the ele- ment from which it sprung, arose. It was robed in what resembled a nun's garb; but so thin and vapoury, that the very moonlight shone through it. From the garments of the figure, as well as from the crimson circle round its throat, he knew that it must be the patroness of the place, the sainted Winifred, that he beheld. He felt no terror, but the deepest awe. The arm of the figure was raised — its benignant regards fixed upon him — and, as soon as it gained the level of the basin, it glided to- wards him. CHAPTER XII. THE VISION. Before daybreak on the following morn- ing, Garnet, who had been engaged in earnest conference with Catesby during the whole of the night, repaired to the sacred spring for the purpose of bathing within it, and performing his solitary de- votions at the shrine of the saint. On ascending the steps of the structure, he perceived Guy Fawkes kneeling beside the fountain, apparently occupied in prayer; and, being unwilling to disturb him, he paused. Finding, however, after the lapse of a few minutes, that he did move, he ad- vanced towards him, and was about to lay his hand upon his shoulder, when he was arrested by the very extraordinary expres- sion of his countenance. His lips were partly open, but perfectly motionless, and his eyes, almost starting from their sockets, were fixed upon the boiling waters of the spring. His hands were clasped, and his look altogether was that of one whose faculties were suspended by awe or terror. Aware of the fanatical and enthusiastic character of Fawkes, Garnet had little doubt that, by keeping long vigil at the fountain, he had worked himself into such a state of over-excitement as to imagine he beheld some preternatural appearance; and it was with some curiosity that he awaited the result. Ciiancing in the same direction, his eye rested upon the bottom of the well, but he could discern nothing except the glittering and bloodstreaked pebbles, and the reflection of the early sunbeams that quivered on its steaming surface. At length, a convulsion passed over the frame of the knceler, and heaving a deep sigh, he arose. Turning to quit the spring, he confronted Garnet, and de- manded in a low voice, " Have you likewise seen the vision?" Garnet made no reply, but regarded liim steadfastly. " Has the blessed Winifred appeared to you, I say?" continued Fawkes. "No," answered Ciarnet; "I am but just come hither. It is for you, my son — the favored of heaven — for whom such glorious visions arc reserved. 1 have seen nothing. How did the saint mani- fest herself to you]" " In her earthly form," replied Fawkes; "or rattier, I sliould say, in the semblance of the form she bore on earth. Listen to me, father. I came hither last night to make my couch beside the fountain. After plunging into it, I felt marvellously re- 52 GUY F A ^V K E S. freshed, and disposed m)'self to rest on that stone. Scarcely had ray eyes closed when the saintly virgin appeared to nne. Oh! father, it was a vision of seraphic beauty, such as the eye of man haih sel- dom seen!" "And such only as it is permitted the elect of heaven to see," observed Garnet. "Alas! father," rejoined Guy Fawkes, "I can lay no claim to such an epithet. Nay, 1 begin to fear that I have incurred the displeasure of heaven," "Think not so, my son," replied Garnet, uneasily. "Relate your vision, and 1 will interpret it to you." "Thus then it was, father," returned Fawkes. "The figure of the saint arose from out the well, and, gliding towards me, laid its finger upon my brow. My eyes opened, but 1 was as one oppressed with a night-mare, unable to move. 1 then thought 1 heard my name pronounced by a voice so wondrousjy sweet that my senses were quite ravished. Fain would 1 have prostrated myself, but my limbs re- fused their office. Neither could I speak, for my tongue was also enchained." " Proceed, my son," said Garnet; " I am curious to know what ensued." " Father," replied Guy Fawkes, " if the form 1 beheld w'as that of .Saint Wini- fred — and that it was so, I cannot doubt — the enterprise on which we are engaged will fail. It is not approved by Heaven. The vision warned me to desist." " You cannot desist, my son," rejoined Garnet, sternly. " Your oath binds you to the project." " True," replied Fawkes; " and I have no thought of abandoning it. But I am well assured it will not be successful." " Your thinking so, my son, will be the most certain means of realising your appre- hensions," replied Garnet, gravely. "But, let me hear the exact words of the spirit. You may have misunderstood them." " 1 cannot repeat them precisely, fa- ther," replied Fawkes; " but I could not misapprehend their import, which was the deepest commiseration for our forlorn and fallen church, but a positive interdiction against any attempt to restore it by blood- shed. ' Suffer on,' said the spirit; ' bear the yoke patiently, and in due season God will avenge your wrongs, and free you from oj)pression. You are thus afllicted that your faith may be purified. But if you resort to violence, you will breed con- fusion, and injure, not serve, the holy cause on which you are embarked.' Such, father, was the language of the saint. It was uttered in a tone so tender and sym- pathising, that every word found an echo in my heart, and I repented having pledged myself to the undertaking. But, when I tell you tliat she added that all concerned in the conspiracy should perish, perhaps, you may be deterred from proTieeding further." " Never!" returned Garnet. " Nor will I suffer any one engaged in it to retreat. What matter if a few perish, if the many survive. Our blood will not be shed ia vain, if the true religion of God is restored. Nay, as strongly as the blessed Winifred herself resisted the impious ravisher, Cara- doc, will I resist all inducements to turn aside from my purpose. It may be that the enterprise icill fail. It may be that we shall perish. But if we die thus, we shall die as martyrs, and our deaths will be highly profitable to the Catholic religion." " I doubt it," observed Fawkes. " My son," said Garnet, solemn^, "I have ever looked upon you as one destined to be the chief agent in the great work of redemption. I have thought that, like Judith, you were chosen to destroy the Holofernes who oppresses us. Having noted in you a religious fervor, and reso- lution admirably fitting you for the task, I thought, and still tliink you expressly chosen by Heaven for it. But, if you have any misgiving, I beseech j"ou to withdraw from it. I will absolve j'ou from your oath; and enjoining you only to strictest secrecy, will pray you to depart at once, lest your irresolution should be communi- cated to the others." " P'ear nothing from me, father," rejoin- ed Fawkes. "I have no irresolution, no" wavering, nor shall any engaged with us be shaken by my apprehension. You have asked me what I saw and heard, and I have told you truly. But I will speak of it no more." " It will be well to observe silence, my son," answered Garnet; "for though you, like myself, are unnerved, its effect on others might be injurious. But 5-ou have not yet brought 3'our relation to an end. How did the figure disappear?" " As it arose, father," replied Fawkes. " Uttering in a sweet but solemn voice, which yet rings in my ears, the words, ' Be warned!' it glided back to the foun- tain, whose waves as it approached grew still, and gradually melted from my view." " But when I came hither you appeared to be gazing at the spring," said Garnet. " What did you then behold]" " My first impulse on awaking about an hour ago," replied Fawkes, " was to pros- trate myself before the fountain, and to entreat the intercession of the saint, who had thus marvellously revealed herself to me. As I prayed, methought its clear lucid waters became turbid, and turned to the color of blood." " It is a type of the blood shed by slaugh- GUY FAWKES. 53 tered brethren of our faith," rejoined Gar- net. " Rather of our own, whicli shall be poured forth in this cause," retorted Fawkes. "No matter, 1 am prepared to lose the last drop of mine." " And I," said Garnet; "and, I doubt not, like those holy men who have suficred for their faith, that we shall both win a crown of martyrdom." "Amen!" exclaimed Fawkes. "And you think the sacrifice we are about to offer will prove acceptable to God?" " I am convinced of it, my son," an- swered Garnet. "And I take the sainted virgin, from whose blood this marvellous spring was produced, to witness that I de- vote myself unhesitatingly to the project, and that I firmly believe it will profit our churcli." As he spoke, a singular circumstance occurred, which did not fail to produce an impression on the superstitious minds of both parties — especially Guy Fawkes. A violent gust of wind, apparently suddenly aroused, whistled through the slender co- lumns of the structure, and catching the surface of the water, dashed it in tiny waves against their feet. "The saint is offended," observed Fawkes. " It would almost seem so," replied Garnet, after a pause. " Let us proceed to the chapel, and pray at her shrine. We will confer on this matter hereafter. — Meantime, swear to me that you will ob- serve profound secrecy respecting this vi- sion." " I swear," replied Guy Fawkes. At this moment, another and more vio- lent gust agitated the fountain. "We will tarry here no longer," said Garnet. "I am not proof against these portents of ill." So saying, he led the way to the chapel. Here they were presently joined by several of the female devotees, including Viviana, Anne Vaux, and Lady Digby. Matins were then said, after which various ofier- ings v.'ere made at the shrine of the saint. Lady Digby presented a small tablet set in crold, representing on one side the mar- tyrdom of Saint Winifred, and on the other the Salutation of our Lady. Anne Vaux gave a small enamelled cross of gold; Vi- viana a girdle of the same metal, with a pendant sustaining a small Saint John's head surrounded with pearls. " INIine will be a poor soldier's offering," said Guy Fawkes, approaching the shrine, which was hung around with the crutches, staves and bandages of those cured by the miraculous spring. "This small silver scallop-shell given me by a pilgrim, who died in my arms near the chapel of Saint James of Compostella, in Spain, is the sole valuable I possess." " It will be as acceptable as a more costly gift, my son," replied Garnet, pla- cing it on the shrine. Of all the offerings then made, that sil- ver scallop-shell is the only one preserved. CHAPTER XIII. THE CONSPIRACY. On Viviana's return from her devotions, she found her father in the greatest pertur- bation and alarm. The old steward, Hey- docko, who had ridden express from Ord- sall Hall, had just arrived, bringing word that the miserable fate of the pursuivant and his crew had aroused the whole coun- try; that officers, attended by a strong force, and breathing vengeance, were in pursuit of Sir William Radcliffe and his daughter; that large sums were olTered for the cap- ture of Guy Fawkes and Father Oldcorne; that most of the servants were imprisoned; that he himself had escaped with great difficulty; and that, to sum up tiiis long catalogue of calamities. Master Hum- phrey Chetham was arrested, and placed in the New Fleet. "In short, niy dear young mistress, concluded the old man, " as 1 have just observed to Sir William, all is over with us, and there is nothing left but the grave." " What course have you resolved upon,' dear father]" said Viviana turning anx- iously to him. "I shall surrender myself," he an- swered. "I am guilty of no crime, and can easily clear myself from all imputa- tion." " You are mistaken," replied Viviana. " Do not hope for justice from those who know it not. But while the means of escape are allowed you, avail yourself of thern." "No, Viviana," replied Sir \Villiam Radcliffe, firmly; "my part is taken. I shall abide the arrival of the officers. For you, 1 shall intrust you to the care of Mr. Catesby," " You cannot mean this, dear father," 54 GUY FA W K E S. cried Viviana, with a look of cHstress. " And if you do, I will never consent to sucli an arrangement. "iNlr. Catesby is strongly attached to you, cliild," replied Sir William, "and will watch over your safety as carefully as I could do myself." " He may be attached to me," rejoined Viviana; ''though I doubt the disinterest- edness of his love. But nothing can alter my repugnance to liim. Forgive mo, therefore, if in this one instance I decline to obey your commands. I dare not trust myself with Mr. Catesby." " How am I to understand youl" in- quired Sir William. " Do not ask me to explain, dear fa- ther," she answered, "but imagine I must have good reason for what I say. Smce you are resolved upon surrendering your- self, I will go into captivity with you. The alternative is less dreadful than that you have pro])osed." "You distract me, child," cried the knight, rising and pacing the chamber in great agitation. " I cannot bear the thought of your imprisonment. Yet if I fly, 1 appear to confess myself guilty." " If your worship will intrust Mistress Viviana with me," interposed the old steward, " I will convey her whithersoever you direct — will watch over her day and night — and, if need be, die in her de- fence." " Thnu wert ever a faithful servant, good Heydocke," rejoined Sir William, extending his hand kindly to him, "and art as true in adversity as in prosperity." "Shame to me if 1 were not," replied Heydocke, pressing the knight's fingers to his lips, and bathing them in his tears. "Shame to me if I hesitated to lay down my lif<^ for a master to whom I owe so much." "If it is your pleasure, dear fiither," observed Viviana, "I will accompany Master Heydocke; but I would far rather be permitted to remain with you." "It would avail nothing," replied Sir William; "we should be separated by the officers. Retire to your chamber, and prepare for instant departure. And in the mean time I will consider what is best to be done." "Your worship's decision must be speedy," observed Heydocke: " I had only a few hours' start of the oflicers. They will be here ere long." "Take this purse," replied Sir Wil- liam, " and hire three of the fleetest horses you can procure, and station yourself at the outskirts of the town, on the road to Saint Asaph. You understand." " Perfectly," replied Heydocke. And he departed to execute his master's com- mands, while Viviana withdrew to her own cliamber. Left alone, the knight was perplexing himself as to where he should shape his course, when he was interrupted by the sudden entrance of Catesby and Garnet. " We have just met your servant. Sir William," said the former; " and have learned the alarming intelligence he has brought." "What is your counsel in this emer- gency, father]" said RadcliflTe, appealing to Garnet. " Flight — instant flight, my son," was the answer. " My counsel is resistance," said Cates- by. " We are here assembled in large numbers, and are well armed. Let us await the arrival of the officers, and see whether they will v(?nturc to arrest j'ou." "They will arrest us all, if they have force sufficient to do so," replied Garnet; " and there are many reasons, as you well know, why it is desirable to avoid any disturbance at present." "True," replied Catesby. "What say you then," he continued, addressing Kad- cliffe, "to our immediate return to Holt, where means may be found to screen you till this storm is blown over]" Sir William having assented to the proposal, Cateshy instantly departed to acquaint the others; and, as soon as pre- parations could be made, and horses pro- cured, the whole party composing the pilgrimage, quitted Holywell, and ascend-- ing the hill at the back of the town, took the direction of Mold, where they arrived, having ridden at a swift pace, in about half an hour. From thence they proceed- ed without accident or interruption, to the mansion they had recentlj^ occupied near Holt. On reaching it, all the domestics were armed, and certain of tiieir number stationed at the different approaches to the house to give the alarm in case of a surprise. But as nothing occurred during the night, the fears of Sir William and his friends began in some degree to sub- side. About noon, on the following day, as Guy Fawkes, who ever since the vision he had beheld at Saint WiniiVed's AVell had shunned all companionship, walked forth beneath the avenue alone, lie heard a light step behind him, and, turning, beheld Viviana. Gravely bowing, he was about to pursue his course, when, quickening her pace, Viviana was instantly by his side. • " I have a favor to solicit," she said. "There is none I would refuse j'ou, Miss Hadclille," answered Fawkes, halt- ing; " but, though I have the will, I may not have the power to grant your request." GUY FAWKES. 55 " Hear me, then," she replied, hurried- ly. " Of all my father's friends — of all who are here assembled, you are the only one 1 dare trust— the only one from whom I can hope for assistance." "I am at once flattered and perplexed by your words, Miss Radclifle," he re- joined; "nor can I guess whither they tend. But speak freely. If I cannot ren- der you aid, I can at least give you coun- sel." "I must premise, then," said Viviana, "that I am aware, from certain obscure hints let fall by Father Oldcorne, that you, Mr. Catesby, and others are eno-aged in a dark and dangerous conspiracy." " Miss Radcliffe," returned Guy Fawkes, sternly, "you have once before avowed your knowledge of this plot. I will not attempt disguise with you. A project is in agitation for the deliverance of our fallen church; and, since you have become ac- quainted with its existence — no matter how — you must be bound by an oath of secrecy, or," and his look grew darker, and his voice sterner, " I will not answer for j'our life." "I will willingly take the oath, on cer- tain conditions," said Viviana. "You must take it unconditionally," rejoined Fawkes. " Hear me out," said Viviana. " Know- ing that Mr. Catesby and Father Garnet are anxious to induce my father to join this conspiracy, I came hither to implore you to prevent him from doing so." " Were 1 even willing to do this — which 1 am not," replied Fawkes, " I have not the power. Sir William Radcliffe would be justly indignant at any interfer- ence on my part." " Heed not that," replied Viviana. " You, I fear, are linked to this fearful enterprise beyond redemption. But he is not. Save him! save him!" "I will take no part in urging him to join it," replied Fawkes. "But I can undertake nothing further." "Then mark me," she returned; "if further attempts are made by any of your confederates to league him with their plot, I myself will disclose all 1 know of it.'"' " IMiss Radcliffe," rejoined Fawkes, in a threatening tone, "I again warn you that you endanger your life." "I care not," rejoined Viviana; "I would risk twenty lives, if 1 possessed them, to preserve my father." "You are a noble-hearted lady," re- plied Fawkes, unable to repress tlie admi- ration with wliieli her conduct inspired him; "and if I can accomplish what you desire, I will. But I see not how it can be done." " Everything is possible to one of your resolution," re])lied Viviana. " Well, well," replied Fawkes, a slight smile crossing his swarthy features; " the effort at least shall be made." " Thanks! thanks!" ejaculated Viviana. And, overcome by her emotions, she sank half-fiiinting into his arms. While he held her thus, debating within himself whether he should convey her to the house. Garnet and Catesby appeared at the other end of the avenue. Their sur- prise at the sight was extreme; nor was it lessened when Viviana, opening her eyes as they drew near, uttered a slight cry, and disappeared. "This requires some explanation," said Catesby, glancing fiercely at Fawkes. "You must seek it, then, of the lady," rejoined the latter, moodily. " It will be easily explained, I have no doubt," interposed Garnet. Miss Rad- cliffe was seized with a momentary weak- ness, and her companion offered her sup- port." " That will scarcely suffice for me," cried Catesby. "Let the subject be dropped for the present," said Garnet, authoritatively. " More important matter claims our atten- tion. We came to seek you, my son," he continued, addressing Fawkes. "All those engaged in the great enterprise are about to meet in a summer-house in the gar- den." " I am ready to attend you," replied Fawkes. " Will Sir William Radcliffe be there]" " No," replied Garnet; " he has not yet joined us. None will be present at this meeting, but the sworn conspirators." With this, the trio took their way to- wards the garden, and proceeding along a walk edged with clipped yew-trees, came to the summer-house — a small circular building overrun with ivy and creepers, and ornamented in front by two stone statues on pedestals. Here they found Sir Everard Digby, Ambrose Rookwood, Francis Tresliam, Thomas and Robert Winter, John and Christopher Wright, awaiting their arrival. The door being closed and bolted. Gar- net placing himself in the midst of llie as- semblage said, " Before we proceed further, I will again administer the oath to all pre- sent." Drawing from his vest a primer, and addressing Sir Everard Digby, he de- sired him to kneel, and continued thus in a solemn tone, " You shall swear by the Blessed Trinity, and by the sacrament you propose to receive, never to disclose, di- rectly nor indirectly, l)y word or circum- stance, the matter that shall be ])ropose(i to you to keep secret, nor desist from the 56 GUY FAWKES. execution thereof, until the rest shall give you leave." " I swear," replied Digby, kissing the primer. The oath was then administered in like manner to the others. This done, Catesby was about to address the meeting, when Tresham, glancing uneasily at the door, said, " Are you assured we have no eaves- droppers'?" " I will keep watch without," observed Fawkes, " if you have any fears." "It were better," replied Robert Win- ter. " We cannot be too cautious. But if you go forth, you will be able to take no part in the discussion." " My part is to act, not talk," rejoined Fawkes, marching towards the door. — And, shutting it after him, he took up his position outside. " This precaution taken, we can secure- ly proceed with the discussion," observed Sir Everard Digby. " We can," replied Catesby. And he thereupon commenced a long and inflam- matory harangue, in which he expatiated with great eloquence and fervor on the wrongs of the Catholic party, and the deplorable condition of its church. " It were easy to slay the tyrant by whom we are oppressed," he said, in conclusion; "but his destruction would be small gain to us. We must strike deeper to hew down the baneful stock of heresy. All our adversaries must perisli with him, and in such manner as shall best attest the vengeance of Heaven. A mine of powder placed beneath the Parliament- house shall hurl it and its heretical occu- pants into the air — nor shall any one sur- vive the terrible explosion. Are we all agreed to this plan^' All the conspirators expressed their as- sent, except Sir Everard Uigby. " i3efore I give m}"^ concurrence to the measure," said the latter, " I would fain be resolved by Father Garnet whether it is lawful to destroy some few of our own faith with so many heretics." " Unquestionably, my son," replied Garnet. " As in besieging a city we have a right to kill all within it, whether friends or enemies, so in this case we are justified in destroying the innocent with the guilty, because their destruction will be advan- tageous to the Oatholic cause." "I am satisfied," replied Difjby. "As to the tj^rant and apostate James," continued Garnet, " he is excommunica- ted, and his subjects released from their allegiance. I have two breves sent over by his holiness Pope Clement YIII, in 1601, one directed to the clergy, and the other to the nobility of this realm, where- in, alluding to Queen Elizabeth, it is ex- pressly declared that, 'so soon as that miserable woman should depart out of this life, none shall be permitted to ascend the throne, how near soever in proximity of blood, unless they are such as will not only tolerate the Catholic faith, but ia every way support it.' By this brief, James is expressly excluded. He has be- trayed, not supported, the church of Rome. Having broken his word with us, and op- pressed our brethren more rigorously even than his predecessor, the remorseless Elizabeth, he is unworthy longer to reign, and must be removed." "He must," said the conspirators. "The Parliament-liouse being the place where all the mischief done us has been contrived by our adversaries, it is fitting that it should be the place of their chas- tisement," said Catesby. " Doubtless," observed Ambrose Rook- wood. "If the blow we meditate, should mis- carry," observed Thomas Winter, " the injury to the Catholic religion will be so great, that not onlj' our enemies, but our very friends will condemn us." " There is no chance of miscarriage, if we are true to each other," said Catesby, confidentl)\ " And if I suspected any one of treachery, I would plunge my sword in- to his bosom, were he my brother." " You would do wrong to act thus on mere suspicion," remarked Tresham, who stood near him. " In a case like this, he who gave the slightest ground for doubt would merit death," replied Catesby, sternly; " and I would slay him." "Hum!" exclaimed Tresham, uneasily. " Mr. Catesby will now perhaps inform us what has been done to carry the project into effect]" said Sir Everard Digby. "A small habitation has been taken by one of our chief confederates, Mr. Thomas Percy, immediately adjoining the Parlia- ment-house," replied Catesby, " from the cellar of which it is proposed to dig a mine through the wall of the devoted building, and to deposit within it'a sufficient quan- tity of gunpowder, and other combustibles, to accomplish our purpose. This mine must be digged by ourselves, as we can employ no assistants, and will be a labo- rious and dangerous task. But I for one will cheerfully undertake it." " And 1," said the elder Wright. " And I," cried several others. " Supposing the mine digged, and the powder deposited," observed Ambrose Rookwood, " whose hand will fire the train]" " Mine!" cried Guy Fawkes, throwing open the door. As soon as he had spo- ken, he retired and closed it after him. GUY FAWKES. 57 " He will keep his word," remarked Garnet. " He is of a nature so resolute that he would destroy himself with the victims rather than fail. If ever man was created to be the main agent of a conspi- racy, it is Guy Fawkes." " Well, gentlemen," said Catesby, " we are now at the latter end of July. All shall be ready against the meeting of Par- liament in November." "There is some likelihood, I hear, that the meeting of the house will be pro- rogued till February," remarked Tresham. " So much the better," rejoined Catesby; •"it will give us more time for prepara- tion." "So much the worse, I think," said Ambrose Rookwood. •' Delays are ever dangerous, and doubly so, in a case like ours." " I am far from desiring to throw any impediment in the way of our design," observed Sir Everard Digby. " But I would recommend, before we proceed to this terrible extremity, that one last effort should be made to move the king in our behalf." " It is useless," replied Catesby. " So far from toleration, he meditates severer measures against us; and I am well as- sured if Parliament is allowed to meet, such laws will be passed as will bring all of us within premunire. No, no; we have no hope from James, nor his ministers." " Nor yet from France or Spain," ob- served 'I'homas Winter. " In my confe- rence with the Constable Velasco at Ber- gen, I received assurances of the good- will of Philip towards us, but no distinct promise of interference in our behalf. The Archduke Albert is well disposed, but he can render no assistance. We must de- pend upon ourselves." "Ay, marry, must we," replied Cates- by; " and fortunate is it that we have de- vised a plan by which we can accomplish our purpose unaided. We only require funds to follow up with effect the blow we shall strike." " My whole fortune shall be placed at your disposal," replied Sir Everard Digby. " Part of mine has already been given," said Tresham, "and the rest shall follow." " Would I had aught to peril in the mat- ter except my life," said Catesby. " 1 would throw everything upon the stake." " You do enough in adventuring thus much, my son," rejoined Garnet. " To you the whole conduct of the enterprise is committed." "I live for nothing else," rep'ied Cates- by; "and if I see it successful, I shall have lived long enough." " Cannot Sir William Radcliffe be in- duced to join usJ" asked Kookwood. 6 " He would be an important acquisition; and his wealth would prove highly ser- viceable." " I have sounded him," answered Cates- by. " But he appears reluctant." "Be not satisfied with one attempt," urged Christopher Wright. " The jeo- pardy in which he now stands may make him change his mind." " I am loth to interrupt the discussion," said Garnet: " but I think we have tarried here long enough. We will meet again at midnight, when I hope to introduce Sir William Radcliffe to you as a confede- rate." The party then separated, and Garnet went in search of the knight. Ascertaining that he was in his own chamber, he proceeded thither, and found him alone. Entering at once upon the subject in hand, Garnet pleaded his cause with so much zeal, that he at last wrung a reluctant consent from the listener. Scarcely able to conceal his exultation, he then proposed to Sir William to adjourn with him to the private chapel in the house, where, having taken the oath, and received the sacrament upon it, he should be forth- with introduced to the conspirators, and the whole particulars of the plot revealed to him. To this the knight, with some hesitation agreed. As they traversed a gallery leading to the chapel, they met Viviana. For the first time in his life Radcliffe's gaze sank before his daughter, and he would have passed her without speaking had she not stopped him. " Father! dear father!" she cried, " I know whither you are going — and for what purpose. Do not — do not join them." Sir William Radclifi'e made no reply, but endeavored gently to push her aside. She would -not, however, be repulsed, but prostrating herself before him, clasped his knees, and besought him not to pro- ceed. Making a significant gesture to Sir William, Garnet walked forward. " Viviana," said the knight, sternly, " my resolution is taken. 1 command you to retire to your chamber." So saying, he broke from her, and fol- lowed Garnet. Clasping her hands to her brow, Viviana gazed for a moment with a frenzied look after him, and then rushed from the gallery. On reaching the chapel. Sir William who had been much shaken by this meet- ing, was some minutes in recovering his composure. Garnet employed the time in renewing his arguments, and with so much address that he succeeded in quieting the scruples of conscience which had been awakened in the knight's breast by his dauirhter's warning. 58 GUY FAWKES. " And now, my son," he said, " since you have determined to enrol your name in the list of those who have sworn to de- liver their church from oppression, take this primer in your hand, and lineel down before the altar, while I administer the oath ■which is to unite you to us." Garnet then advanced towards the altar, and .Sir William was about to prostrate himself upon a cushion beside it, wiien the door was suddenly thrown open, and Guy Fawkes strode into the chapel. "Hold!" he exclaimed, graspintr Rad- cliflTe's right arm, and fixintr his dark glance upon him; "you shall not take that oath." " What mean you?" cried Garnet, who, as well as the kniorht, was paralysed with astonishment at this intrusion. " Sir Wil- liam Kadclifie is about to join us." " I know it," replied Fawkes; "but it may not be. He has no heart in the busi- ness, and will lend it no efhcient assist- ance. We are better without him, than with him." As he spoke he took the primer from the knight's hand, and laid it upon the altar. "This conduct is inexplicable," cried Garnet, angrily. " You will answer for it to others, as well as to me." "I will answer for it to all," replied Guy Fawkes. Let Sir William Radclifto declare before me and before Heaven, that he approves the measure, and I am content he sliould take the oath." " I cannot belie my conscience by say- ing so," replied the knight, who appeared agitated by conflicting emotions. "Yet you have promised to join us," cried Garnet, reproachi'ully. " Better break that promise than a so- lemn oath," rejoined Guy Fawkes, sternly. "Sir William Radciitle, there are reasons ■why you should not join this conspiracy. Examine your inmost heart, and it will tell you what they are." "I understand you," replied the knight. " Get hence," cried Garnet, unable to control his indignation, " or I will pro- nounce our church's most terrible maledic- tion against you." " I shall not shrink from it, father," re- joined Fawkes humljjy, but firmly, "see- ing that I am acting rightly." " Undeceive yourself, then at once," returned Garnet, " and learn that you are thwarting our great and holy purpose." " On the contrary," replied Fawkes, "I am promoting it, l)y preventing one from joining it who will endanger its success." " You are a traitor!" cried Garnet, furiously. "A traitor!" exclaimed Guy Fawkes, his eye blazing with fierce lustre, though his voice and demeanor were unaltered — " I, ■n-ho have been warned thrice — twice by the dead, and lastly by a vision from heaven, yet still remain firm to my pur- pose — 1, who have voluntarily embraced the most dangerous and difficult part of the enterprise — I, who would suffer the utmost extremity of torture, rather than utter a word that should reveal it — a traitor! No, father, I am none. If you think so, take this sword and at once put an end to your doubts." There was something so irresistible in the manner of Guy Fawkes, that Garnet remained silent. "Do with me what you please," con- tinued Fawkes, "but do not compel Sir W'illiam Radcliffe to join the conspiracy. He will be fatal to it." " No one shall compel me to join it," replied the knight. " Perhaps it is better thus," said Gar- net, after a pause, during which tie was buried in reflection. "1 will urge you no further, my son. But before you depart you must swear not to divulge what you have just learnt." " Willin.^^ly," replied the knight. "There is another person who must also take that oath," said Guy Fawkes, " having accidentally become acquainted with as much as yourself." And stepping out of the chapel, he imme- diately afterwards returned with Viviana. " You will now understand why I would not allow Sir William to join the conspiracy," he observed to Garnet. " 1 do," replied the latter gloomily. The oath administered, the knight and his daughter quitted the chapel, accom- panied by Guy Fawkes. Viviana was profuse in her expressions of gratitude, nor was her father less earnest in his ac- knowledgments. A few hours after this. Sir William Radclille informed Sir Everard Digby that it was his intention to depart immediately, and, though the latter attempted to dis- suade him from his purpose by represent- ing the danger to which he would be exposed, he continued inflexible. The announcement surprised both Catesbyand Garnet, who were present when it was made, and added their dissuasions to those of Digby — but without effect. To Catesby's proposal to serve as an escort, Radcliffe likewise gave a preremptory re- fusal, stating that he had no fears; and when questioned as to his destination, he returned an evasive answer. This sudden resolution of the knight, coupled with his refusal to join the plot, alarmed the con- spirators, and more than one expressed fears of treachery. Sir Everard Digby, however, was not of the number, but asserted, " Radcliffe is a man of the GUY FAWKES ill answer for his 59 highest honor. I secresy with my life." " Will you answer for that of his daugh- ter?" said Tresham. "/will," replied Fawkes. "To put the matter beyond a doubt," said Catesby, " I will set out shortly after him, and follow him unobserved till he halts for the night, and ascertain whether he stops at any suspicious quarter." " Do so, my son," said Garnet. "It is needless," observed Sir Everard Digby; " but do as j^ou please." By this time, Radclifle's horses being brought round by Heydocke, he and his daughter took a hasty leave of their friends. When they had been gone a few minutes, Catesby called for his steed; and, after exchanging a word or two with Garnet, rode after them. He had scarcely proceeded more than a couple of miles along a cross-road leading to Nantwich, ■which he learnt from some cottagers was the route taken by the party before him, when he heard the tramp of a horse in the rear, and turning at the sound, beheld Guy Fawkes. Drawing in the bridle, he lialted till the latter came up, and angrily de- manded on what errand he was bent. " My errand is the same as your own," replied Fawkes. " I intend to follow Sir William RadclifTe, and, if need be, defend him," Whatever Catesby's objections might be to this companionship, he did not think fit to declare them, and, though evidentl}'^ much displeased, suffered Guy Fawkes to ride by his side without opposition. Having gained the summit of the moun- tainous range extending from Malpas to Tottenhall, whence they beheld the party whose course they were tracking enter a fearful of losing sight of them, set spurs to his steed. Guy Fawkes kept close beside him, and they did not slacken their pace until they reached the lane. They had not proceeded along it more than a quarter of a mile, when they were alarmed by the sudden report of hre-arms, followed by a loud shriek, which neither of them doubted was uttered by Viviana. Again dashing forward, on turning a cor- ner of the road, they beheld the party sur- rounded by half a dozen troopers. Sir William Radcliffe had shot one of his as- sailants, and, assisted by Heydocke, was defending himself bravely against the others. With loud shouts, Catesby and Guy Fawkes galloped towards the scene of strife. But they were too late. A bul- let pierced the knight's brain; and. no sooner did he fall, than, regardless of him- self, the old steward flung away his sword, and threw himself, with the most piteous lamentations, on the body. Viviana, meanwhile, had been compelled to dismount, and was in the hands of the troopers. On seeing her father's fate, her shrieks were so heart-piercing, that even her captors were moved to compassion. Fighting his way towards her, Catesby cut down one of the troopers, and snatch- ing her from the grasp of the other, who was terrified by the furious assault, placed her on the saddle beside him, and striking spurs into his charger at the same moment, leapt the hedge, and made good his retreat. I'his daring action, however, could not have been accomplished without the as- sistance of Guy Fawkes, who warded off with his rapier all the blows aimed at him and his lovely charge. While thus en- gaged, he received a severe cut on the head, which stretched him senseless and narrow lane at the foot of the hill, Catesby, j bleeding beneat4i his horse's feet. CHAPTER XIV. THE PACKET. On recovering from the effects of the wound he had received from the trooper, Guy Fawkes found himself stretched upon a small bed in a cottage, with Viviana and Catesby watching beside him. A thick fold of linen was bandaged round his head, and he was so faint from the great effusion of blood he had sustained, that, after gazing vacantly around him for a few minutes, and but imperfectly comprehending what he beheld, his eyes closed, and lie relapsed into insensibility. Restoratives being ap- plied; he revived in a short time, and, in answer to his inquiries as to how ho came thither, was informed by Catesby that he had been left for dead by his assailants, who, contenting themselves with making the old steward prisoner, had ridden off in the direction of Chester. " What has become of Sir William Rad- cliffe]" asked the wounded man, in a fee- ble voice. Catesby raised his finger to his lips, and Fawkes learnt tiio distressing nature of the question he had asked by the agonizing cry lliat burst from Viviana. Unable to con- trol her grief, she withdrew, and ("atesby then told liiui that the body of Sir Wil- 60 GUY FAWKES. liam Radclifle was Ij'in^ in an adjoininfj cottage, whither it iiad been transported from the scene of the conflict; adding- that it was Miss Radcliffe's earnest desire that it should be conveyed to Manchester to the family vault in the Collegiate Church; but that he feared her wish could not be safely complied with. A messenger, however, had been despatched to Holt; and Sir Kver- ard Digby, and blathers Garnet and Old- come, were momentarily expected, when some course would be decided upon for the disposal of the unfortunate knight's re- mains. " Poor Viviana!" groaned Fawkes. " She has now no protector." " Kest easy on that score," rejoined Catesby. " She shall never want one while 1 live." The wounded man fixed his eyes, now blazing with red and unnatural light, in- (jiiiringly upon him, but he said nothing. " 1 know what you mean," continued Catesby; "you think I shall wed her, and you are in the right. I shall. The mar- riage is essential to our enterprise; and the only obstacle to it is removed." Fawkes attempted to reply, but his parched tongue refused its office. Cates- by arose, and carefully raising his head, held a cup of water to his lips. The suf- ferer eagerly drained it, and would have asked for more; but seeing that the request would be refused, he left it unuttered. " Have you examined my wound]" he said, after a pause. Catesby answered in the affirmative. "And do you judge it mortal]" con- tinued Fawkes. "Not that 1 have any fear of death. I have looked him in the face too often for that. But I have some- what on my mind which I would fain dis- charge before my earthly pilgrimage is ended." " Do not delay it, then," rejoined the other. "Knowing I speak to a soldier, and a brave one, 1 do not hesitate to tell you, your hours are numbered." " Heaven's will be done!" exclaimed Fawkes, in a tone of resignation. " I thought myself destined to be one of the chief instruments of the restoration of our holy religion. IJut I lind I was mistaken. When Father Garnet arrives, I beseech you let me see him instantly. Or, if he should not come speed 11)% entreat Miss Radcliffe to grant me a few moments in private." " Why not unburthen yourself to me]" returned Catesby, distrustfully. " In your circumstances 1 should desire no better confessor than a brother soldier — or other crucifix than a sword-hilt." " Nor I," rejoined Fawkes. " But this is no confession I am about to utter. What I have to say relates to others, not to my- self." " Indeed!" exclaimed Catesby. "Then there is the more reason why it should not be deferred. I hold it my duty to tell you that the fever of your wound will, in all probability, produce delirium. Make your communication while your senses remain to you; and whatever you enjoin shall be rigorously t'ulfilled." " Will you swear this]" cried Fawkes, eagerly. But before an answer could be returned, he added, in an altered tone, " No — no — it cannot be." "This is no time for anger," rejoined Catesby, sternly, " or I should ask whether you doubt the assurance 1 have given you]" " I doubt nothing but j'our compliance with my request," returned Fawkes. "And oh! if you hope to be succored at your hour of need, tell Miss Radcliffe I desire to speak with her." " The iTiessage will not need to be con- veyed," said Viviana, w'ho had noiselessly entered the room; " she is here." Guy Fawkes turned his gaze in the di- rection of the voice; and, notwithstanding his own deplorable condition, he was filled with concern at the change wrought in her appearance by the terrible shock she had undergone. Her countenance was as pale as death — her eyes, from which no tears would flow, as is ever the case with the deepest distress, were glassy and lustre- less — her luxuriant hair hung in dishevel- led masses over her shoulders — and her attire was soiled and disordered. " You desire to speak with me?" she continued, advancing towards the couch of the wounded man. " It must be alone," he replied. Viviana glanced at Catesby, who reluc- tantly arose, and closed the door after him. " We are alone now," she said. " W' ater! water!" gasped the sufTerer, "or I perish." His request being com- plied with, he continued in a low solemn voice, " Miss RadclitTe, you have lost the dearest friend you had on earth, and you will soon lose one who, if he had been spared, would have endeavored, as far as he could, to supply that loss. I say not this to aggravate your distress, but to prove the sincerity of my regard. Let me conjure you, with my dying breath, not to wed Mr. Catesby." "Fear it not," replied Viviana. "I would rather endure death than consent to do so." " Be upon your guard against him, then," continued Fawkes. " W hen an object is to be gained, he suffers few scru- ples to stand in his way." "I am well aware of it," replied Vivi- ana; " and on the arrival of Sir Everard GUY FAWKES. 61 Digby, I shall place myself under his pro- tection." " Should you be driven to extremity," said Fawkes, taking a small packet from the folds of his doublet, "break open this, it will inform you M-hat to do. Only promise me )fou will not have recourse to it till other means have failed." Viviana took the packet, and gave the required promise. " Conceal it about your person, and guard it carefully," continued P'awkes; *'for you know not when you may require it. And now, having cleared my con- science, I can die easily. Let mc have your prayers." \'iviana knelt down by the bedside, and poured forth the most earnest supplications in his behalf. " Perhaps," she said, as she arose, •'and it is some consolation to think so — you may be saved by death from the com- mission of a great crime, which would for ever have excluded you from the joys of heaven." "Say rather," cried Guy Fawkes, whose brain began to wander, " which would have secured them to me. Others will achieve it; but I shall have no share in their glory, or their reward." "Their reward will be perdition in this world and the next," rejoined Viviana. "1 repeat, that though 1 deeply deplore your condition, I rejoice in your delivery from this sin. It is better — far better — to die thus, than by the hands of the com- mon executioner." " What do 1 see"?" cried Guy Fawkes, trying to raise himself, and sinking back again instantly upon the pillow. " Eliza- beth Orton rises before me. She beckons me after her — I come! — I come!" " Heaven pity him!" cried Viviana. "His senses have left him!" "She leads me into a gloomy cavern," continued Fawkes, more wildly; " but my eyes are like the wolf's, and can penetrate the darkness. It is filled with barrels of gunpowder. I see them ranged in tiers, one above another. Ah! I know where 1 am now. It is the vault beneath the Par- liament-house. The King and his nobles are assembled in the hall above. Lend me a torch, that I may fire the train, and blow them into the air. Quick! quick! 1 have sworn their destruction, and will keep my oath. What matter if I perish with them] Give me the torch, I say, or it will be too late. Is the powder damp that it will not kindlel And see! the torch is expiring — it is gone out! Distraction! — to be baffled thus! Why do you stand and glare at me with those stony eyes'? Who are those with you? Fiends! — uo! they are armed men. They seize me — they drag me before a grave assemblage. What is that hideous engine! The rack! — Bind me on it — break every limb — ye shall not force me to confess — ha! ha! I laugh at your threats — ha! ha!" "Mother of mercy! release him from this torture!" cried Viviana. " So! )'e have condemned me," contin- ued Fawkes, " and will drag me to execu- tion. Well, well, I am prepared. But what a host is assembled to see me! Ten thousand faces are turned towards me, and all with one abhorrent blood-thirsty ex- pression. And what a scaffold! Get it done quickly, thou butcherly villain. The rope is twisted round my throat in serpent folds. It strangles me — ah!" " Horror!" exclaimed Viviana. "I can listen to this no longer. Help, Mr. Cates- by, help!" " The knife is at my breast — it pierces my flesh — my heart is torn forth — I die! — I die!" And he uttered a dreadful groan. " What has happened!" cried Catesby, rushing into the room. " Is he dead]" "I fear so," replied Viviana, "and his end has been a fearful one." " No — no," said Catesby; — " his pulse still beats — but fiercely and feverishly. You had better not remain here longer. Miss Radcliffe. 1 will watch over him. All will soon be over." Aware that she could be of no further use, Viviana cast a look of the deepest commiseration at the sufferer, and retired. The occupant of the cottage, an elderly female, had surrendered all the apartments of her tenement, except one small room, to her guests, and she was therefore undis- turbed. The terrible event which had recently occurred, and the harrowing scene she had just witnessed, were too much for Viviana, and her anguish was so intense, that she began to fear her reason was deserting her. She stood still — gazed fearfully round, as if some secret danger environed her — clasped her hands to her temples, and found them burning like hot iron — and, then, alarmed at her own state, knelt down, prayed, and wept. Yes! she wept, for the first time, since her father's destruction, and the relief afforded by those scalding tears was inexpressible. From this piteous state she was aroused by the tramp of horses at the door of the cottage, and the next moment Father Gar- net presented himself. " How uncertain are human affairs!" he said, after a sorrowful greeting liad passed between them. "I little thought, when we parted yesterday, we should meet again so soon, and under such afilict- ing circumstances." "It is the will of Heaven, fiUher," re- plied Viviana, " and we must not murmur 6* 63 GUY FAWKES. at its decrees, but bear our chastening as ■we best may." "I am happy to find you in such a comfortable frame of mind, dear daughter. I feared the effect of the shock upon your feelings. But I am glad to find you bear u]i against it so well." " 1 am surprised at my own firmness, father," replied Viviana. "But I have been schooled in affliction. I have no tie left to bind me to the world, and shall re- tire from it, not only without regret, but with eagerness." "Say not so, dear daughter," replied C4arnet. " You have, 1 trust, much hap- piness in store for you. And when the sharpness of your affliction is worn off", you will view your condition in a more cheering light." "Impossible!" she cried, mournfully. " Hope is wholly extinct in my breast. But 1 will not contest the point. Is not Sir Everard Digby with you]" " He is not, daughter," replied Garnet, "and I will explain to you wherefore. Soon after your departure yesterday, the mansion we occupied at Holt was attacked by a band of soldiers, headed by Miles TopclilTe, one of the most unrelenting of our persecutors; and though they were driven off" with some loss; yet, as there was every reason to apprehend they would return with fresh force. Sir Everard judged it prudent to retreat, and accordingly he and his friends, with all their attendants, except those he has sent with me, have departed for Buckinghamshire." " Where, then, is Father Oldcorne"?" inquired Viviana. , "Alas', daughter," rejoined Garnet, "I grieve to say he is a prisoner. Imprudent- ly exposing himself during the attack, he was seized and carried off by Topcliffe and his myrmidons." "How true is the saying, that misfor- tunes never come single!" sighed Viviana. "I seem bereft of all I hold dear." " Sir Everard has sent four of his trus- tiest servants with me," remarked Garnet. "They are well armed, and will attend you wherever you choose to lead them. He has also furnished me with a sum of money for your use." " He is most kind and considerate," replied Viviana. "And now, father," she faltered, " there is one subject which it is necessary to speak upon; and, though I shrink from it, it must not be postponed." " I guess what you mean, daughter," said Garnet, sympathisingly; "you allude to the interment of Sir William Radcliffe. " Is the body here'?" "It is in an adjoining cottage," replied Viviana, in a broken voice. "I have al- ready expressed my wish to Mr. Catesby to have it conveyed to Manchester, to our family vault." " 1 see not how that can be accom- plished, dear daughter," replied Garnet; " but I will confer with Mr. Catesby on the subject. Where is he?" . " In the next room, by the couch of Guy Fawkes, who is dying," said Viviana. "Dying!" echoed Garnet, starling. "I heard he was dangerously hurt, but did not suppose the wound would prove fatal. Here is another grievous blow to the good cause." At this moment, the door was opened by Catesby. "How is the sufferer?" asked Garnet. " A slight change for the better appears to have taken place," answered Catesby. "His fever has in some degree abated, and he has sunk into a gentle slumber." " Can he be removed with safety?" said Garnet; "for, I fear, if he remains here he will fall into the hands of Topcliife and his crew, who are scouring the country in every direction;" and he recapitulated all he had just stated to Viviana. Catesby was for some time lost in re- flection. " I am fairly perplexed as to what course it will be best to pursue," he said. " Dangers and difficulties beset us on every side. I am inclined to yield to Miss Radcliffe's request, and proceed to Man- chester." " That will be rushing into the very face of danger," observed Garnet. "And, therefore, may be the safest pivi," said Catesby. "Our adversaries will scarcely suspect us of so desperate a step." " Perhaps you are in the right, my son," returned Garnet, after a moment's reflection. " At all events, I bow to your judgment." " The plan is too much in accordance with my own wishes to meet with any op- position on my part," observed Viviana. " Will you accompany us, father?" said Catesby; " or do you proceed to Gothurst?" " I will go with you, my son. Miss Radcliffe will need a protector. And, till I have seen her in some place of safety I will not leave her." "Since we have come to this determi- nation," rejoined Catesby, "as soon as the needful preparations can be made, and Guy Fawkes has had some hours repose, we will set out. Under cover of night we can travel with security; and, by using some exertion, may reach Ordsall Hall, whither, I presume, Miss Radcliffe would choose to proceed, in the first instance, before daybreak." "1 am well mounted, and so are my GUY F A W K E S. 63 attendants," replied Garnet: "and, by the provident care of Sir Everard Digby, each of them has a led horse with him." "That is well," said Catesby. "And now, Miss Radcliffe, may I entreat you to take my place for a sliort time by the couch of the sufferer. In a few hours everything shall be in readiness." He then retired with Garnet, while Vi- viana proceeded to the adjoining chamber, where she found Guy Fawkes still slum- bering tranquilly. As the evening advanced, he awoke, and expressed himself much refreshed. While he was speaking, Garnet and Catesby approached his bedside, and he appeared overjoyed at the sight of the former. The subject of the journey being mentioned to him, he at once expressed his ready compliance with the arrange- ment, and only desired that the last rites of his church might be performed for him before he set out. Garnet informed him that he came for that very purpose; and as soon as they were left alone, he proceeded to the dis- charge of his priestly duties, confessed and absolved him, giving him the viaticum and the extreme unction. And, lastly, he judged it expedient to administer a power- ful opiate, to lull the pain of his wound on the journey. This done, he summoned Catesby, who, with two of the attendants, raised the couch on which the wounded man was stretched, and conveyed him to the litter. So well was this managed, that Fawkes sustained no injury, and little inconveni- ence, from the movement. Two strong country vehicles had been procured; the one containing the wounded man's litter, tlie other the shell, which had been hastily put together, to hold the remains of the unfortunate Sir William RadclilTe. Vivi- ana being placed in the saddle, and Cates- by having liberally rewarded the cottagers who had afforded them shelter, the little cavalcade was put in motion. In this way, they journeyed through the night; and shaping their course through Tarpor- ley, Northwich, and Altringham, arrived at daybreak in the neighborhood of Ord- sall Hall. CHAPTER XV. THE ELIXIR. When Viviana first beheld the well-re- membered roof and gables of the old mansion peeping from out the grove of trees in which it was embosomed, her heart died away within her. The thought that her father, who had so recently quit- ted it in the full enjoyment of health, and of every worldly blessing, should be so soon brought back a corpse, was almost too agonising for endurance. Reflecting, however, that this was no season for the indulgence of grief, but that she was called upon to act with firmness, she bore up resolutely against her emotion. Arrived within a short distance of the hall, Catesby caused the little train to halt under the shelter of the trees, while he rode forward to ascertain that they could safely approach it. As he drew near, everything proclaimed that the hand of the spoiler had been there. Crossing the drawbridge, he entered the court, which bore abundant marks of the devastation recently committed. Various articles of furniture, broken, burnt, or otherwise destroyed, were lying scattered about. The glass in the windows was shivered; the doors forced from their hinges; the stone-copings of the walls pushed off; the flower-beds trampled upon; the moat it- self was in some places choked up with rubbish, while in others its surface was covered with floating pieces of timber. Led by curiosity, Catesby proceeded tt> the spot where the stables had stood. Nothing but a heap of blackened riiins met his gaze. Scarcely one stone was standing on -another. The appearance of the place was so desolate and dishearten- ing, that he turned away instantly. Leav- • ing big horse in a shed, he entered the house. Here, again, he encountered fresh • ravages. The oak-panels and skirting- boards were torn from the walls: the ceilings pulled down; and the floor lay inch-deep in broken plaster and dust. On ascending to the upper rooms, he found the same disorder. The banisters of the stairs were broken; the bedsteads destroy- ed; the roof partially untiled. Every room was thickly strewn with leaves torn from valuable books, with fragments of apparel, and other articles, which the searchers not being able to carry off had wantonly destroyed. Having contemplated this scene of havoc for some time, with feelings of the bitterest indignation, Catesby descended I to the lower story; and after searching in- j effectually for the domestics, was about 64 GUY FAWKES. to depart, when, turning suddenly, he per- ceived a man watching him from an ad- joining room. Catesby instantly called to him; but, seeing that the fellow disre- garded his assurances, and was about to take to his heels, he drew his sword, and threatened him with severe punishment if he attempted to fly. Thus exhorted, the man — wlio was no other than the younger Heydocke — advanced towards him; and throwing himself at his feet, begged him in the most piteous terms to do him no injury. " I have already told you I am a friend," replied Catesby, sheathing his sword. *' Ah! Mr. Catesby, is it you I behokH" cried IMartin Heydocke, whose fears had hitherto prevented him from noticing the features of the intruder. " What brings your worship to this ill-fated house]" " First let me know if there is any ene- my abouti" replied Catesby. " None that I am aware of," rejoined Martin. " Having ransacked the pre- mises, and done all the mischief they could, as 3'^ou perceive, the miscreants de- parted the day before yesterday, and I have seen nothing of them since, though 1 have been constantly on the watch. The onl}'^ alarm I have had was that occasioned by your worship just now." " Are you alone here]" demanded Catesby. " No, your worship," answered Martin. " There are several of the servants con- cealed in a secret passage under the house. But they are so terrified by wliat has lately happened, that they never dare show them- selves, except during the night time." " I do not wonder at it," replied Cates- by- " And now may I inquire whether 3'our worship brings any tidings of Sir Willinm Radcliffe, and Mistress Viviana]" rejoined Martin. " I hope no ill has befallen them. My father old .lerome Heydocke, set out to Holywell, a few days ago, to apprise them of their danger, and I have not heard of them since." " Sir William Radcliffe is dead," re- plied Catesby. "The villains have mur- dered him. Your father is a prisoner." "Alas! alas!" cried the young man, bursting into tears, " these are fearful times to live in. What will become of us all?" "We must rise against the oppressor," replied Catesby, sternly. " Bile the heel that tramples upon us." " W'e must," rejoined Martin. "And, if my poor arm could avail, it should not be slow to strike." " Manfully resolved!" cried Catesby, who never lost an opportunity of gaining a proselyte. " I will point out to you a way by which you may accomplish what you desire. But we will talk of ibis here- after. Hoard up your vengeance till the fitting moment for action arrives. He then proceeded to explain to the young man, who was greatly surprised by the intelligence, that Miss Radcliffe was at hand, and that the body of Sir William had been brought thither for interment in the famil}' vault at the Collegiate Church, Having ascertained that there was a cham- ber, which, having suffered less than the others, might serve for Viviana's accom- modation, Catesby returned to the party. Perhaps a more melancholy cavalcade was never seen than now approached the gates of Orsdall Hall. First rode Viviana, in an agony of tears, for her grief had by this time become absolutely uncontrolla- ble, with Catesby on foot, leading her horse. Next came Garnet, greatly ex- hausted, and depressed; his eyes cast de- jectedly on the ground. Then came the litter, containing Guy Fawkes; and, lastly, the vehicle wilh the body of Sir William Radcliffe. On arriving at the gate, Vivi- ana was met by two female servants, whom Martin Heydocke had summoned from their hiding-places; and, as soon as slie had dismounted, she was supported, for she was scarcely able to walk unaided, to the chamber destined for her reception. This done, Catesby proceeded, with some anxiety, to superintend the removal of Fawkes, who was perfectly insensible. — His wound had bled considerably during the journey; hut the effusion had stopped, when the faintness supervened. He was placed in one of the lower rooms till a sleeping-chamber could be prepared for him. The last task was to attend to the remains of the late unfortunate possessor of the mansion. By Catesby's directions a large oak table, which had once stood in the midst of the great hall, was removed to the Star Chamber, already described as the principal room of the house; and, being securely propped up — for, like the rest of the furniture, it had been much damaged by tiie spoilers, though, being of substantial material, it offered greater re- sistance to their efforts — the shell contain- ing the body was placed upon it. " Better he lies thus," exclaimed Cates- by, when the melancholy office was com- pleted, "than live to witness the wreck around him. Fatal as are these occurren- ces," he added, pursuing the train of thought suggested by the scene, •' they are yet favorable to my purpose. The only person who could have prevented my union with Viviana Radcliffe — her father — lies there. Who would have thought when she rejected my proposal a few days ago, in this very room, how fortune would con- GUY FAWKES. 65 spire— and by what dark and inscrutable means — to bring it about! Fallen as it is, this house is not yet fallen so low but I can reinstate it. Its young mistress mine, her estates mine — for she is now tbe in- heritress of all her father's possessions — the utmost reach of my ambition were gained, and all but one object of my life — for which I have dared so much, and struggled so long — achieved!" " What are you thinking of, my son!" asked Garnet, who had watched the changing expression of his sombre coun- tenance — ''what are you thinking of]" he said, tapping him on tbe shoulder. " Of that which is never absent from my thoughts, father — the great design," re- plied Catesby; " and of the means of its accomplishment, which this sad scene suggests." " I do not understand you, my son," rejoined the other. "Does not the blood which has there been shed cry aloud for vengeance]" said Catesby; and think you that slaughtered man's child will be deaf to the cry] No, father, she will no longer tamely submit to wrongs that would steel the gentlest bosom, and make firm the feeblest arm, but will go hand and heart with us in our project. Viviana must be mine," he ad- ded, altering his tone, "ours, I should say — for, if she is mine, all the vast pos- sessions which have accrued to her by her father's death shall be devoted to the fur- therance of the mighty enterprise." " I cannot think she will refuse you now, my son," said Garnet. " She shall not refuse me, father," re- joined Catesby. "The time is gone by for idle wooing." " I will be no party to forcible measures, my son," said Garnet, gravely. "As far as persuasion goes, I will lend you every as- sistance in my power, but nothing furtlier." "Persuasion is all that will be required, I am assured, father," said Catesby has- tily, perceiving he had committed himself too far. "But let us now see what can be done for Guy Fawkes." "Would that there were any hopes of his life!" exclaimed Garnet, sighing deep- ly. "In losing him, we lose the bravest of our band." "We do," returned Catesby. "And yet he has been subject to strange fancies of late." "He has been appalled, but never shaken," said Garnet. "Of all our num- ber, the only two upon whom I could rely were yourself and Fawkes. When he is gone, you will stand alone." "There is no danger he would have undertaken that I will not as readily en- counter, father," replied Catesby. "I doubt it not, my son. Let us go to him. And be not downcast. He has an iron frame. While life lasts there is ever hope." Catesby shook his head doubtfully, and led the way in silence to the chamber where the wounded man lay. He had regained his consciousness, but was too feeble to speak.' After such restoratives as were at hand had been administered, Catesby was about to order a room to be fitted up for him, when Viviana, whose anxiety for the sufferer bad overcome her affliction, made her appearance. On learning Catesby's intentions, she insisted upon Fawkes being removed to the room allotted to her, which had not been dismantled like the rest. Seeing it was in vain to oppose her, Catesby as- sented, and the sufferer was accordingly carried tliither, and placed within the bed — a large antique piece of furniture, hung with faded damask curtains. 'l"he room was one of the oldest in the house, and at the further end stood a small closet, ap- proached by an arched doorway, and fitted up with a cushion and crucifix, which, strange to say, had escaped the vi