sehold
sleeping soundly?"

The intonation of the question startled her. Why should her father
seek to learn whether she slept or not? Surely in the meeting of a few
boon companions over a flask of wine, such precaution was not
necessary. Not delaying for further meditation, she slipped out of
bed, and crept noiselessly to that side of the room against which
arose the huge brick chimney above the fireplace below. Through the
space between the flooring and the masonry, a glare of light came up
to her as well as the voices of those beneath. Crouching against the
warm bricks she listened, unmindful of the cold and her equivocal
position.

The assurance which Fawkes gave to his companions that the house was
quiet, and none would interrupt them, removed the reserve which each
had hitherto felt. Time was indeed precious, for Garnet desired to
return ere daybreak to his hiding place, lest any should perceive
that, lying beneath the doublet of a cavalier, was the insignia of a
churchman, a discovery upon which great misfortune might follow. 'Twas
with scant preliminaries, therefore, that Catesby, ever foremost in
zeal, boldness and assurance, addressed his companions.

"Methinks," said he, turning to the Jesuit, "that in thy wisdom thou
must have perceived something to our benefit in saving James of
Scotland from my bullet. Yet, to me it did appear that the Lord gave
him into our power."

A shadow of impatience darkened the priest's brow, but in an instant
his features resumed their accustomed mildness.

"My son!" he replied, "it would have been an ill thing to slay our
master after the manner of paid assassins. 'Twas in thy heart to kill
the King; what then?"

Catesby bit his lip. That there lay some weighty reason in the mind of
the Superior for his unexpected friendliness to James, he
comprehended, but his spirit, unused to restraint, and darkened by
adversity, illy brooked opposition.

"What then?" replied he, in answer to Garnet's question. "'Twould have
rid the kingdom of a tyrant, and our faith of its bitterest enemy."

The Jesuit smiled sadly. "As thou hast spoken," said he, "the King
would be dead, and trouble us no more, but what of the Parliament? Is
it then James alone who distresses us?"

"Methinks," broke in Percy, "that our worthy father hath put it to us
wisely. Did the Scot lose his life, another would arise in his place,
and the suspicions of the authorities awakened, there would be no
peace in Eng