.
"Good-morrow, Master," said Roger Neck, the servant who was
superintending the transaction, as Fawkes paused a moment, apparently to
look on, after the fashion of an idle man. Roger had seen him more than
once, passing in and out of Percy's house; but he was the only one of
the plotters ever visible in the daytime.
"Good-morrow, friend. Selling your coals off?"
"Ay, we're doing a middling stroke of business this morrow."
"How much a load? We shall want some ere long."
"Charcoal, fourteen shillings; cannel, sixpence to ninepence, according
to quality."
Fawkes walked down the street, to avoid suspicion, into King Street,
where he turned into the first shop to which he came. It happened to be
a cutler's, and he bought the first thing he saw--a dozen knives of
Sheffield make. Had they been London-made, they would have cost four
times as much as the modest shilling demanded for them. He then
returned to Percy's house, carrying the knives in his hand. Fawkes had
now fully blossomed out in his new role of "Mr Percy's man," and was
clad in blue camlet accordingly, blue being then the usual wear of
servants out of livery.
"What is it, Johnson?" asked Percy, addressing Fawkes by his assumed
name, when he came down into the cellar.
"It is a dozen of Sheffield knives, Master," replied Fawkes a little
drily: "and by the same token, our next neighbour is selling his coals,
and looks not unlike to clear out his cellar."
"Is that all?"
"That is all."
Two of the conspirators looked at each other.
"If you could hire the cellar--" suggested Catesby.
"Done!" said Percy. "It should save us a peck of trouble."
"Who owns it?--or who hath it?" asked Catesby.
"Why, for who owns it, I guess the Parliament House," answered Fawkes;
"but for who hath it, that must we discover."
"Pray you, make haste and discover it, then."
Fawkes went out again to make inquiries. He found without difficulty
that the cellar, like the houses adjoining, was held by the Wyniards,
and it was agreed that Percy should call on them and endeavour to obtain
it.
He accordingly went to see his landlady, to whom he represented that he
wished to bring his wife up to live with him in London--she was in the
country at present, and he missed her sorely--but if that were done, he
must have more stowage for wood and coals.
Mrs Wyniard's interest was aroused at once in a man who cared for his
wife, and felt a want of her society.
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