Guy Fawkes; or, The Gunpowder Treason: An Historical Romance
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CHAPTER III.
ORDSALL HALL
Soon after sunset, on the evening of the events previously related, theinmates of Ordsall Hall were disturbed and alarmed (for in those timesof trouble any casual disturbance at night was sufficient to occasionalarm to a Catholic family) by a loud clamour for admittance from someone stationed at the farther side of the moat, then, as now, surroundingthat ancient manorial residence. The drawbridge being raised, noapprehension was entertained of an attempt at forcible entrance on thepart of the intruder, who, so far as he could be discerned in thedeepening twilight, rendered yet more obscure by the shade of the treesunder which he stood, appeared to be a solitary horseman. Still, forfear of a surprise, it was judged prudent by those inside the hall toturn a deaf ear to the summons; nor was it until it had been more thanonce repeated in a peremptory tone, that any attention was paid to it.The outer gate was then cautiously opened by an old steward, and acouple of serving-men, armed with pikes and swords, who demanded thestranger's business, and were answered that he desired to speak with SirWilliam Radcliffe. The steward rejoined that his master was not at home,having set out the day before for Chester: but that even if he were, hewould take upon himself to affirm that no audience would be given, onany pretence whatever, to a stranger at such an unseasonable hour. Tothis the other replied, in a haughty and commanding voice, that he wasneither a stranger to Sir William Radcliffe, nor ignorant of thenecessity of caution, though in this instance it was altogethersuperfluous; and as, notwithstanding the steward's assertion to thecontrary, he was fully persuaded his master _was_ at home, he insistedupon being conducted to him without further parley, as his businesswould not brook delay. In vain the steward declared he had spoken thetruth. The stranger evidently disbelieved him; but, as he could obtainno more satisfactory answer to his interrogations, he suddenly shiftedhis ground, and inquired whether Sir William's daughter, MistressViviana, was likewise absent from home.
"Before I reply to the question, I must know by whom and wherefore it isput?" returned the steward, evasively.
"Trouble not yourself further, friend, but deliver this letter to her,"rejoined the horseman, flinging a packet across the moat. "It isaddressed to her father, but there is no reason why she should not beacquainted with its contents."
"Take it up, Olin Birtwissel," cried the steward, eyeing the packetwhich had fallen at his feet suspiciously; "take it up, I say, and holdit to the light, that I may consider it well before I carry it to ouryoung mistress. I have heard of strange treacheries practised by suchmeans, and care not to meddle with it."
"Neither do I, good Master Heydocke," replied Birtwissel. "I would nottouch it for a twelvemonth's wages. It may burst, and spoil my goodlooks, and so ruin my fortunes with the damsels. But here is JeffGellibronde, who, having no beauty to lose, and being, moreover, afraidof nothing, will pick it up for you."
"Speak for yourself, Olin," rejoined Gellibronde, in a surly tone. "Ihave no more fancy for a shattered limb, or a scorched face, than myneighbours."
"Dolts!" cried the stranger, who had listened to these observations withangry impatience, "if you will not convey my packet, which has nothingmore dangerous about it than an ordinary letter, to your mistress, atleast acquaint her that Mr. Robert Catesby, of Ashby St. Legers, iswithout, and craves an instant speech with her."
"Mr. Catesby!" exclaimed the steward, in astonishment. "If it be indeedyour 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, methinks it is somewhat strange tofind your worship here, when I am aware that my master expected to meetyou, and certain other honourable gentlemen that you wot of, at a placein a clean opposite direction, Holywell, in Flintshire."
"The cause of my presence, since you desire to be certified of thematter, is simply this," replied Catesby, urging his steed towards theedge of the moat, while the steward advanced to meet him on the oppositebank, so that a few yards only lay between them; "I came round byManchester," he continued, in a lower tone, "to see if any assistancecould be rendered to the unfortunate fathers Woodroofe and Forshawe; butfound on my arrival this morning that I was too late, as they had justbeen executed."
"Heaven have mercy on their souls!" ejaculated Heydocke, shuddering, andcrossing himself. "Yours was a pious mission, Mr. Catesby. Would it hadbeen availing!"
"I would so, too, with all my soul!" rejoined the other, fervently; "butfate ordained it otherwise. While I was in the town, I accidentallylearnt from one, who informed me he had just parted with him, that yourmaster was at home; and, fearing he might not be able to attend themeeting at Holywell, I resolved to proceed hither at nightfall, when myvisit was not likely to be observed; having motives, which you mayreadily conjecture, for preserving the strictest secrecy on theoccasion. The letter was prepared in case I should fail in meeting withhim. 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. Ifnot, your young mistress may serve my turn, for I have that to say whichit imports one or other of them to know."
"In regard to my master," replied the steward, "he departed yesterdayfor Chester, on his way to join the pilgrimage to St. Winifred's Well,as I have already assured your worship. And whoever informed you to thecontrary, spoke falsely. But I will convey your letter and message to myyoung mistress, and on learning her pleasure as to receiving you, willinstantly return and report it. These are dangerous times, your worship;dangerous times. A good Catholic knows not whom to trust, there are somany spoilers abroad."
"How, sirrah!" cried Catesby, angrily, "do you apply that observation tome?"
"Far be it from me," answered Heydocke, respectfully, "to apply anyobservation that may sound offensive to your worship, whom I know to bea 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-cautionin detaining you where you are, till I learn my lady's pleasure. It is arule in this house not to lower the drawbridge without orders aftersunset; and I dare not, for my place, disobey it. Young Mr. HumphreyChetham, of Crumpsall, was detained in the like manner no later thanlast night; and he is a visitor," he added, in a significant tone, "whois not altogether unwelcome to my mistress--ahem! But duty is norespecter of persons; and in my master's absence my duty is to protecthis household. Your worship will pardon me."
"I will pardon anything but your loquacity and tediousness," rejoinedCatesby, impatiently. "About your errand quickly."
"I am gone, your worship," returned the steward, disappearing with hiscompanions.
Throwing the bridle over his horse's neck, and allowing him to drink hisfill from the water of the moat, and afterwards to pluck a few mouthfulsof the long grass that fringed its brink, Catesby abandoned himself toreflection. In a few moments, as the steward did not return, he raisedhis eyes, and fixed them upon the ancient habitation beforehim,--ancient, indeed, it was not at this time, having been in a greatmeasure rebuilt by its possessor, Sir William Radcliffe, during thelatter part of the reign of Elizabeth, in the rich and picturesque styleof that period. Little could be distinguished of its projecting andretiring 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 theoutline of its heavy roof, with its numerous gables, and groups of talland elaborately-ornamented chimneys, might be distinctly traced instrong relief against the warm and still-glowing western sky.
Though much gone to decay, grievously neglected, and divided into threeseparate dwelling-houses, Ordsall Hall still retains much of itsoriginal character and beauty; and viewed at the magic hour abovedescribed, when the changes produced by the lapse of years cannot bedetected, it presents much the same striking appearance that it offeredto the gaze of Catesby. Situated on the north bank of the Irwell, whichsuppl
ies the moat with a constant stream of fresh water, it commands onthe south-west a beautiful view of the winding course of the river, herealmost forming an island, of Trafford Park and its hall, of the woodyuplands beyond it, and of the distant hills of Cheshire. The mansionitself is an irregular quadrangle, covering a considerable tract ofground. The gardens, once exquisitely laid out in the formal taste ofElizabeth's days, are also enclosed by the moat, surrounding (except inthe intervals where it is filled up) a space of some acres in extent. Atthe period of this history, it was approached on the north-east by anoble avenue of sycamores, leading to within a short distance of itsgates.
As Catesby surveyed this stately structure, and pondered upon the wealthand power of its owner, his meditations thus found vent in words:--"If Icould but link Radcliffe to our cause, or win the hand of his fairdaughter, and so bind him to me, the great attempt could not fail. Shehas refused me once. No matter. I will persevere till she yields. WithFather Oldcorne to back my suit, I am assured of success. She isnecessary to my purpose, and shall be mine."
Descended from an ancient Northamptonshire family, and numbering amonghis ancestry the well-known minister of the same name who flourished inthe reign of Richard the Third, Robert Catesby,--at this time aboutforty,--had in his youth led a wild and dissolute life; and though bredin the faith of Rome, he had for some years abandoned its worship. In1580, when the Jesuits, Campion and Persons, visited England, he wasreconciled to the church he had quitted, and thenceforth became aszealous a supporter and promoter of its doctrines as he had heretoforebeen their bitter opponent. He was now actively engaged in all thePopish plots of the period, and was even supposed to be connected withthose designs of a darker dye which were set on foot for Elizabeth'sdestruction,--with Somerville's conspiracy,--with that of Arden andThrockmorton,--the latter of whom was his uncle on the maternalside,--with the plots of Bury and Savage,--of Ballard,--and ofBabington. After the execution of the unfortunate Queen of Scots, hedevoted himself to what was termed the Spanish faction, and endeavouredcarry out the schemes of a party, who, distrusting the vague promises ofJames, were anxious to secure the succession to a Catholic,--the Infantaof Spain, or the Duke of Parma. On the insurrection of the Earl ofEssex, he took part with that ill-fated nobleman; and, though he escapedcondign punishment for the offence, he was imprisoned and heavily fined.
From this time his career ran in darker channels. "Hunger-starved forinnovation," as he is finely described by Camden,--imbued with thefiercest religious fanaticism,--eloquent, wily, resolute,--able alike todelude the powerful and intimidate the weak,--he possessed all theingredients of a conspirator. Associating with men like himself, ofdesperate character and broken fortunes, he was ever on the look out forsome means of retrieving his own condition, and redressing the wrongs ofhis church. Well informed of the actual state of James's sentiments,when, on that monarch's accession, confident hopes were entertained bythe Romanists of greater toleration for their religion, Catesby was thefirst to point out their mistake, and to foretel the season of terriblepersecution that was at hand. On this persecution he grounded hishopes--hopes, never realized, for the sufferers, amid all the grievancesthey endured, remained constant in their fidelity to the throne--ofexciting a general insurrection among the Catholics.
Disappointed in this expectation,--disappointed, also, in his hopes ofSpain, of France, and of aid from Rome, he fell back upon himself, andresolved upon the execution of a dark and dreadful project which he hadlong conceived, and which he could execute almost single-handed, withoutaid from foreign powers, 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 fanaticismhad ever conceived, it will be the business of this history to develope.Without going further into detail at present, it may be mentioned thatthe success of the plot depended so entirely on its secrecy, and so wellaware was its contriver of the extraordinary system of espionage carriedon by the Earl of Salisbury and the Privy Council, that for some time hescarcely dared to trust it out of his keeping. At length, after muchdeliberation, he communicated it to five others, all of whom were boundto silence by an oath of unusual solemnity; and as it was necessary tothe complete success of the conspiracy that its outbreak should beinstantaneously followed by a rise on the part of the Catholics, hedarkly hinted that a plan was on foot for their deliverance from theyoke of their oppressors, and counselled them to hold themselves inreadiness to fly 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 majorityreturned for answer, "that their part was endurance, and that the onlyarms which Christians could use against lawful powers in their severitywere prayers and tears."
Among the Popish party of that period, as in our own time, were rankedmany of the oldest and most illustrious families in thekingdom,--families not less remarkable for their zeal for their religionthan, as has before been observed, for their loyalty;--a loyaltyafterwards approved in the disastrous reign of James the Second by theirfirm adherence to what they considered the indefeasible right ofinheritance. Plots, indeed, were constantly hatched throughout thereigns of Elizabeth and James, by persons professing the religion ofRome; but in these the mass of the Catholics had no share. And even inthe seasons of the bitterest persecution, when every fresh act oftreason, perpetrated by some lawless and disaffected individual, wasvisited with additional rigour on their heads,--when the scaffold reekedwith their blood, and the stake smoked with their ashes,--when theirquarters were blackening on the gates and market-crosses of every cityin the realm,--when their hearths were invaded, their religionproscribed, and the very name of Papist had become a by-word,--even inthose terrible seasons, as in the season under consideration, theyremained constant in their fidelity to the crown.
From the troubled elements at work, some fierce and turbulent spiritswere sure to arise,--some gloomy fanatics who, having brooded over theirwrongs, real or imaginary, till they had lost all scruples ofconscience, hesitated at no means of procuring redress. But it would beunjust to hold up such persons as representatives of the whole body ofCatholics. Among the conspirators themselves there were redeemingshades. All were not actuated by the same atrocious motives. Mixedfeelings induced Catesby to adopt the measure. Not so Guy Fawkes, whohad already been leagued with the design. One idea alone ruled him. Asoldier of fortune, but a stern religious enthusiast, he supposedhimself chosen by Heaven for the redemption of his Church, and cared notwhat happened to himself, provided he accomplished his (as he conceived)holy design.
In considering the causes which produced the conspiracy about to berelated, and in separating the disaffected party of the Papists from thetemperate, due weight must be given to the influence of the priesthood.Of the Romish clergy there were two classes--the secular priests, andthe Jesuits and missionaries. While the former, like the more moderateof the laity, would have been well-contented with toleration for theirreligion, the latter breathed nothing but revenge, and desired the uttersubversion of the existing government,--temporal as well asecclesiastical. Men, for the most part, of high intellectual powers, ofuntiring energy, and unconquerable fortitude, they were enabled bytheir zeal and ability to make many proselytes. By their means, secretcorrespondence was carried on with the different courts of Europe; andthey were not without hope that, taking advantage of some favourablecrisis, they should yet restore their church to its former supremacy. Tothese persons,--who held as a maxim, "_Qui religionem Catholicam deseritregnandi jus omne amisit_,"--Catesby and his associates proved ready anddevoted agents. Through their instrumentality, they hoped to accomplishthe great work of their restoration. To Father Garnet, the provincial ofthe English Jesuits, of whom it will be necessary to speak more fullyhereafter, the plot had been revealed by Catesby under the seal ofconfession; and, though it subsequently became a question whether he wasjustified in withholding a secret of such importance to the state, it issufficient for the present purpose to say that he
did withhold it. Forthe treasonable practices of the Jesuits and their faction somepalliation may perhaps be found in the unrelenting persecution to whichthey were subjected; but if any excuse can be admitted for them, whatopinion must be formed of the conduct of their temperate brethren?Surely, while the one is condemned, admiration may be mingled with thesympathy which must be felt for the unmerited sufferings of the other!
From the foregoing statement, it will be readily inferred that SirWilliam Radcliffe, a devout Catholic, and a man of large possessions,though somewhat reduced by the heavy fines imposed upon him as arecusant, must have appeared an object of importance to theconspirators; nor will it be wondered at, that every means were used togain him to their cause. Acting, however, upon the principles thatswayed the well-disposed of his party, the knight resisted all theseovertures, and refused to take any share in proceedings from which hisconscience and loyalty alike revolted. Baffled, but not defeated,Catesby returned to the charge on a new point of assault. Himself awidower (or supposed to be so), he solicited the hand of the lovelyViviana Radcliffe, Sir William's only child, and the sole heiress of hispossessions. But his suit in this quarter was, also, unsuccessful. Theknight rejected the proposal, alleging that his daughter had noinclination to any alliance, inasmuch as she entertained seriousthoughts of avowing herself to heaven. Thus foiled, Catesby ostensiblyrelinquished his design.
Shortly before the commencement of this history, a pilgrimage to SaintWinifred's Well, in Flintshire, was undertaken by Father Garnet, theprovincial of the Jesuits before mentioned, in company with severaldistinguished Catholic personages of both sexes, and to this ceremonialSir William and his daughter were urgently bidden. The invitation wasdeclined on the part of Viviana, but accepted by the knight, who, thoughunwilling to leave home at a period of so much danger, or to commit hisdaughter to any care but his own, even for so short a space, felt it tobe his duty to give countenance by his presence to the ceremonial.
Accordingly, he departed for Chester on the previous day, as stated bythe steward. And, though Catesby professed ignorance on the subject, andeven affirmed he had heard to the contrary, it may be doubted whether hewas 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 follow. The course of Catesby'sreflections was cut short by the return of the steward, who, informinghim that he had his mistress's commands to admit him, immediatelylowered the drawbridge for that purpose. Dismounting, and committing hissteed to one of the serving-men, who advanced to take it, Catesbyfollowed his conductor through a stone gateway, and crossing the garden,was ushered into a spacious and lofty hall, furnished with a long massyoak table, at the upper end of which was a raised dais. At one side ofthe chamber yawned a huge arched fire-place, garnished with enormousandirons, on which smouldered a fire composed of mixed turf and wood.Above the chimney-piece hung a suit of chain-armour, with thebattle-axe, helmet, and gauntlets of Sir John Radcliffe, the firstpossessor of Ordsall, who flourished in the reign of Edward the First:on the right, masking the entrance, stood a magnificent screen of carvedoak.
Traversing this hall, Heydocke led the way to another large apartment;and placing lights on a Gothic-shaped table, offered a seat to thenew-comer, and departed. The room in which Catesby was left was termedthe star-chamber--a name retained to this day--from the circumstance ofits ceiling being moulded and painted to resemble the heavenly vaultwhen studded with the luminaries of night. It was terminated by adeeply-embayed window filled with stained glass of the most gorgeouscolours. The walls, in some places, were hung with arras, in others,wainscoted with dark lustrous oak, embellished with scrolls, ciphers,and fanciful designs. The mantel-piece was of the same solid material,curiously carved, and of extraordinary size. It was adorned with thearmorial bearings of the family--two bends engrailed, and in chief alabel of three,--and other devices and inscriptions. The hearth wasconsiderably raised above the level of the floor, and there was apeculiarity in the construction of the massive wooden pillars flankingit, that attracted the attention of Catesby, who rose with the intentionof examining them more narrowly, when he was interrupted by the entranceof the lady of the mansion.
Advancing at a slow and dignified pace, Viviana Radcliffe courteouslybut gravely saluted her guest; and, without offering him her hand,motioned him to a chair, while she seated herself at a little distance.Catesby had seen her twice before; and whether the circumstances underwhich they now met might have caused some change in her demeanour hecould not tell, but he thought her singularly altered. A year ago, shehad been a lively, laughing girl of seventeen, with a bright brown skin,dark flowing tresses, and eyes as black and radiant as those of a gipsy.She was now a grave, collected woman, infinitely more beautiful, butwholly changed in character. Her complexion had become a clear,transparent white, and set off to great advantage her large, luminouseyes, and jetty brows. Her figure was tall and majestic; her featuresregular, delicately formed, and of the rarest and proudest class ofbeauty. She was attired in a dress of black wrought velvet, entirelywithout ornament except the rosary at her girdle, with a small ebonycrucifix attached to it. She wore a close-fitting cap, likewise of blackvelvet, edged with pearls, beneath which her raven tresses were gatheredin such a manner as to display most becomingly the smooth and snowyexpanse of her forehead. The gravity of her manner, not less than hercharms of person, seem to have struck Catesby mute. He gazed on her insilent admiration for a brief space, utterly forgetful of the object ofhis visit, and the part he intended to play. During this pause, shemaintained the most perfect composure, and fixing her dark eyes fullupon him, appeared to await the moment when he might choose to open theconversation.
Notwithstanding his age, and the dissolute and distracted life he hadled, Catesby was still good-looking enough to have produced a favourableimpression upon any woman easily captivated by manly beauty. The veryexpression of his marked and peculiar physiognomy,--in some degree anindex to his character,--was sufficient to rivet attention; and themysterious interest generally inspired by his presence was notdiminished on further acquaintance with him. Though somewhat stern intheir expression, his features were strikingly handsome, cast in an ovalmould, and clothed with the pointed beard and trimmed mustachesinvariably met with in the portraits of Vandyck. His frame was stronglybuilt, but well proportioned, and seemed capable of enduring thegreatest fatigue. His dress was that of an ordinary gentleman of theperiod, and consisted of a doublet of quilted silk, of sober colour andstout texture; large trunk-hose swelling out at the hips; and buffboots, armed with spurs with immense rowels. He wore a high andstiffly-starched ruff round his throat; and his apparel was completed bya short cloak of brown cloth, lined with silk of a similar colour. Hisarms were rapier and poniard, and his high-crowned plumed hat, of thepeculiar form then in vogue, and looped on the "leer-side" with adiamond clasp, was thrown upon the table.
Some little time having elapsed, during which he made no effort toaddress her, Viviana broke silence.
"I understood 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 onlyexcuse my absence of mind and ill manners, on the plea that thecontemplation of your charms has driven all other matter out of myhead."
"Mr. Catesby," returned Viviana, rising, "if the purpose of your visitbe merely to pay unmerited compliments, I must at once put an end toit."
"I have only obeyed the impulse of my heart," resumed the other,passionately, "and uttered what involuntarily rose to my lips. But," headded, checking himself, "I will not offend you with my admiration. Ifyou have read my letter to your father, you will not require to beinformed of the object of my visit."
"I have not read it," replied Viviana, returning him the packet with theseal unbroken. "I can give no opinion on any matter of difficulty. And Ihave no desire to know any secret with which my father might not desireme to be acquainted."
"By no one whom you would care to overhear us," returned the maiden.
"Then it is as I supposed," rejoined Catesby. "Father Oldcorne isconcealed behind that mantel-piece?"
Viviana smiled an affirmative.
"Let him come forth, I pray you," returned Catesby. "What I have to sayconcerns him as much as yourself or your father; and I would gladly havehis voice in the matter."
"You shall have it, my son," replied a reverend personage, clad in apriestly garb, stepping from out one side of the mantel-piece, whichflew suddenly open, disclosing a recess curiously contrived in thethickness of the wall. "You shall have it," said Father Oldcorne, for heit was, approaching and extending his arms over him. "Accept my blessingand my welcome."
Catesby received the benediction with bowed head and bended knee.
"And now," continued the priest, "what has the bravest soldier of ourchurch to declare to its lowliest servant?"
Catesby then briefly explained, as he had before done to the steward,why he had taken Manchester in his route to North Wales; and, afterlamenting his inability to render any assistance to the unfortunatepriests, he went on to state that he had accidentally learnt, from a fewwords let fall by the pursuivant to his attendant, that a warrant hadbeen sent by the Earl of Salisbury for Sir William Radcliffe's arrest.
"My father's arrest!" exclaimed Viviana, trembling violently."What--what is laid to his charge?"
"Felony," rejoined Catesby, sternly--"felony, without benefit ofclergy--for so it is accounted by the present execrable laws of ourland,--in harbouring a Jesuit priest. If he is convicted of the offence,his punishment will be death--death on the gibbet, accompanied byindignities worse than those shown to a common felon."
"Holy Virgin!" ejaculated Father Oldcorne, lifting up his hands, andraising his eyes to heaven.
"From what I gathered, the officers will visit this house to-night,"continued Catesby.
"Our Lady be praised, they will not find him!" cried Viviana, who hadbeen thrown into an agony of distress. "What is to be done in thisfrightful emergency, holy father?" she added, turning to the priest,with a supplicating look.
"Heaven only knows, dear daughter," replied Oldcorne. "You had betterappeal for counsel to one who is more able to afford it than I am,--Mr.Catesby. Well aware of the crafty devices of our enemies, and havingoften eluded their snares himself, he may enable you to escape them. Myown course is clear. I shall quit this roof at once, deeply and bitterlyregretting that by entering it, I have placed those whom I hold so dear,and from whom I have experienced so much kindness, in such fearfuljeopardy."
"Oh, no, father!" exclaimed Viviana, "you shall not go."
"Daughter," replied Oldcorne, solemnly, "I have long borne the cross ofChrist,--have long endured the stripes, inflicted upon me by theadversaries of our faith, in patience; and my last actions and lastbreath shall testify to the truth of our holy religion. But, though Icould endure aught on my own account, I cannot consent to bring miseryand destruction upon others. Hinder me not, dear daughter. I will go atonce."
"Hold, father!" interposed Catesby. "The step you would take may bringabout what you are most anxious to avoid. If you are discovered andapprehended in this neighbourhood, suspicion will still attach to yourprotectors, and the secret of your departure will be wrung from some ofthe more timid of the household. Tarry where you are. Let the pursuivantmake his search. I will engage to baffle his vigilance."
"He speaks the truth, dear father," returned Viviana. "You mustnot--shall not depart. There are plenty of hiding-places, as you know,within the mansion. Let them be as rigorous as they may in their search,they will not discover you."
"Whatever course you adjudge best for the security of others, I willpursue," rejoined Oldcorne, turning to Catesby. "Put me out of thequestion."
"My opinion has already been given, father," replied Catesby. "Remainwhere you are."
"But, if the officers should ascertain that my father is at Chester,and pursue him thither?" cried Viviana, suddenly struck by a new causeof alarm.
"A messenger must be immediately despatched after him to give himwarning," returned Catesby.
"Will you be that messenger?" asked the maiden, eagerly.
"I would shed my heart's best blood to pleasure you," returned Catesby.
"Then I may count upon this service, for which, rest assured, I will notprove ungrateful," she rejoined.
"You may," answered Catesby. "And yet I would, on Father Oldcorne'saccount, that my departure might be delayed till to-morrow."
"The delay might be fatal," cried Viviana. "You must be in Chesterbefore that time."
"Doubt it not," returned Catesby. "Charged with your wishes, the windshall scarcely outstrip my speed."
So saying, he marched irresolutely towards the door, as if about todepart, when, just as he had reached it, he turned sharply round, andthrew himself at Viviana's feet.
"Forgive me, Miss Radcliffe," he cried, "if I once again, even at acritical moment like the present, dare to renew my suit. I fancied I hadsubdued my passion for you, but your presence has awakened it withgreater violence than ever."
"Rise, sir, I pray," rejoined the maiden, in an offended tone.
"Hear me, I beseech you," continued Catesby, seizing her hand. "Beforeyou reject my suit, consider well that in these perilous seasons, whenno true Catholic can call his life his own, you may need a protector."
"In the event you describe, Mr. Catesby," answered Viviana, "I would atonce fulfil the intention I have formed of devoting myself to Heaven,and retire to the convent of Benedictine nuns, founded by Lady MaryPercy, at Brussels."
"You would much more effectually serve the cause of your religion byacceding to my suit," observed Catesby, rising.
"How so?" she inquired.
"Listen to me, Miss Radcliffe," he rejoined, gravely, "and let my wordsbe deeply graven upon your heart. In your hands rests the destiny of theCatholic Church."
"In mine!" exclaimed Viviana.
"In yours," returned Catesby. "A mighty blow is about to be struck forher deliverance."
"Ay, marry, is it," cried Oldcorne, with sudden fervour. "Redemptiondraweth nigh; the year of visitation approacheth to an end; andjubilation is at hand. England shall again be called a happy realm, ablessed country, a religious people. Those who knew the former glory ofreligion shall lift up their hands for joy to see it returned again.Righteousness shall prosper, and infidelity be plucked up by the root.False error shall vanish like smoke, and they which saw it shall saywhere is it become? The daughters of Babylon shall be cast down, and inthe dust lament their ruin. Proud heresy shall strike her sail, andgroan as a beast crushed under a cart-wheel. The memory of noveltiesshall perish with a crack, and as a ruinous house falling to the ground.Repent, ye seducers, with speed, and prevent the dreadful wrath of thePowerable. He will come as flame that burneth out beyond the furnace.His fury shall fly forth as thunder, and pitch upon their tops thatmalign him. They shall perish in his fury, and melt like wax before thefire."
"Amen!" ejaculated Catesby, as the priest concluded. "You have spokenprophetically, father."
"I have but recited a prayer transmitted to me by Father Garnet,"rejoined Oldcorne.
"Do you discern any hidden meaning in it?" demanded Catesby.
"Yea, verily my son," returned the priest. "In the '_false errorvanishing like_ SMOKE,'--in the '_house perishing with a_ CRACK,'--andin the '_fury flying forth as_ THUNDER,'--I read the mode the great workshall be brought about."
"And you applaud the design?" asked Catesby, eagerly.
"_Non vero factum probo, sed eventum amo_," rejoined the priest.
"The secret is safe in your keeping, father?" asked Catesby, uneasily.
"As if it had been disclosed to me in private confession," repliedOldcorne.
"Hum!" muttered Catesby. "Confessions of as much consequence to thestate have ere now been revealed,
father."
"A decree has been passed by his holiness, Clement VIII., forbidding allsuch revelations," replied Oldcorne. "And the question has been recentlypropounded by a learned brother of our order, Father Antonio Delrio,who, in his Magical Disquisitions, putteth it thus:--'Supposing amalefactor shall confess that he himself or some other has laidGUNPOWDER, or the like combustible matter, under a building--'"
"Ha!" exclaimed Catesby, starting.
"--'And, unless it be taken away,'" proceeded the priest, regarding himfixedly, "'the whole house will be burnt, the prince destroyed, and asmany as go into or out of the city will come to great mischief orperil!'"[2]
"Well!" exclaimed Catesby.
"The point then arises," continued Oldcorne, "whether the priest maymake use of the secret thus obtained for the good of the government, andthe averting of such danger; and, after fully discussing it, FatherDelrio decides in the negative."
"Enough," returned Catesby.
"By whom is the blow to be struck?" asked Viviana, who had listened tothe foregoing discourse in silent wonder.
"By me," answered Catesby. "It is for you to nerve my arm."
"You speak in riddles," she replied. "I understand you not."
"Question Father Oldcorne, then, as to my meaning," rejoined Catesby;"he will tell you that, allied to you, I could not fail in theenterprise on which I am engaged."
"It is the truth, dear daughter," Oldcorne asseverated.
"I will not inquire further into this mystery," returned Viviana, "forsuch it is to me. But, believing what you both assert, I answer, thatwillingly as I would lay down my life for the welfare of our holyreligion, persuading myself, as I do, that I have constancy enough toendure martyrdom for its sake,--I cannot consent to your proposal. Nay,if I must avouch the whole truth," she continued, blushing deeply, "myaffections are already engaged, though to one with whom I can never hopeto be united."
"You have your answer, my son," observed the priest.
Catesby replied with a look of the deepest mortification anddisappointment; and, bowing coldly to Viviana, said, "I now depart toobey your behests, Miss Radcliffe."
"Commend me in all duty to my dear father," replied Viviana, "andbelieve that I shall for ever feel bound to you for your zeal."
"Neglect not all due caution, father," observed Catesby, glancingsignificantly at Oldcorne. "Forewarned, forearmed."
"Doubt me not, my son," rejoined the Jesuit. "My prayers shall be foryou.
Gentem auferte perfidam Credentium de finibus, Ut Christo laudes debitas Persolvamus alacriter."
After receiving a parting benediction from the priest, Catesby took hisleave. His steed was speedily brought to the door by the old steward;and mounting it, he crossed the drawbridge, which was immediately raisedbehind him, and hastened on his journey.
[2] Confitetur maleficus se vel alium posuisse pulverem vel quid aliudsub tali limine, et nisi tollantur domum comburendam, principeminteriturum, quotquot urbem egredienturque in magnam perniciem autpericulum venturos.--DELRIO _Disq. Mag._, lib. vi. cap. i. [_Edit._1600.]