ipes with externs,"
responded Robert. "That young Louvaine that you affect--I scarce trust
him."

"That affects me, you mean. Trust him! I never do. He's only a
simpleton at best."

"Have you never heard of simpletons carrying tidings?" said Fawkes.
"Mind you drop not any chance words, Mr Winter, that might do
mischief."

"Let me alone for that," was the answer.

"Gentlemen," said Catesby, who had been in a brown study for some
minutes, "methinks Mr Fawkes's proposal to seize the Lady Elizabeth
under cover of a hunting-party is good. Sir Everard, will you undertake
this?"

"Willingly. Where must they be gathered?"

"Gather them at Dunchurch," said Catesby, "for a hunt on Dunsmoor Heath,
and for the day of the Parliament's meeting: you shall have notice of
the blow struck, as quick as a horseman can reach you. As soon as you
hear it, then away to Combe, and carry off the young lady to my mother's
at Ashby. Proclaim her Queen, and bring her next day to London,
proclaiming her in all the towns on your way."

"May there not be some awkwardness in the matter, if her brothers be
alive?" suggested the most cautious of the party, Robert Winter.

"Pooh!" ejaculated the impetuous Percy. "`Nothing venture, nothing
have.'"

"`Faint heart never won fair lady' were more pertinent to the occasion,"
said Thomas Winter, raising a general laugh.

"We must see to that," grimly responded Catesby.

The conspirators then separated. Sir Everard Digby set out for
Warwickshire, Percy went to see Lord Northumberland at Syon, Keyes
returned to Lambeth, and Fawkes resumed his duties at the house on the
riverbank. Mr Marshall, on his way to call at the White Bear little
guessed that the apparently respectable, busy man-servant in blue
camlet, who met him as he went down King Street, was engaged in an evil
work which would hand down his name to everlasting infamy.

Mrs Abbott was standing at her door as he went past.

"Well to be sure! so 'tis you, Parson? How's Mrs Agnes this even? I
reckoned I saw her t'other day, a-passing through the Strand, but she
saw not me--in a green perpetuance gown, and a black camlet hood. I
trust it'll wear better than mine, for if ever a camlet was no worth,
'tis that Dear heart, the roguery of wool-drapers, and mercers beside!
I do hope Master Floriszoon 'll not learn none of their tricks. If I
see my Lady Lettice this next day or twain, I'll drop a word to her.
Don't you think she's l