s needful for the
coming journey. In the morning Rookwood accidentally met Catesby, whose
spirits had risen. There was no need to fear things would go on well.

Three o'clock in the afternoon saw Lord Suffolk, the Lord Chamberlain of
the Household, accompanied by Lord Monteagle, descending into the vaults
of the House of Lords. They glanced into different parts, and coming to
the cellar immediately under the House, the Lord Chamberlain noticed
that it was apparently filled with stacked faggots.

"Whose are all these?" said he.

A tall, dark man, who had unlocked the cellar for their Lordships'
entrance, and was now standing by with the key in his hand, gave the
answer, with an air of rustic simplicity.

"An't like your Lordships, 'tis my master's provision for the winter."

"Who is your master?" asked the Lord Chamberlain.

"An't please you, Mr Percy, one of his Majesty's pensioners, that hath
his lodging this next door."

"I thought none dwelt next door. How long hath your master had the
house?"

"Under your Lordships' leave, about a year and an half; but hath
deferred his lying there by reason of some occasions which caused him to
be absent."

"Well, he has laid in a good stock of fuel," said the Chamberlain, as if
carelessly; and their Lordships turned and remounted the stairs.

Arrived at a place where they might speak unheard, the noble searchers
looked each into the other's face with the same question on the lips of
both.

"What thinks your Lordship of all this stock of fuel below?"

"Nay, what think you, my Lord?"

"Truly, I am very suspicious thereof."

"My Lord, the more I do observe the letter," said Lord Monteagle,
earnestly, "and meditate on the words thereof, the more jealous am I of
the matter, and of this place. Look you, this Mr Percy the pensioner
and I had great dearness of friendship between us at one time; he is a
near relative of my Lord Northumberland, and a Catholic. Were I you,
that cellar should be thoroughly overhauled."

"Well, let us go to the King."

It was between five and six o'clock, and the short November daylight was
over, when the searchers brought back their report to his Majesty,
recounted their suspicions, and asked what they were to do.

"Gi'e me a man wi' his heid on his shoulders," said his Majesty, "and ye
ha' that, my Lord Monteagle. Noo, I'll just tell ye, I ay held ane
maxim, to wit, Either do naething, or do that quhilk shall make a' sure.
So ye'