glare only serving to intensify
the gloom. A rat, frightened by his approach, scurried into some dark
corner with a plaintive squeak which startled him, despite his iron
nerve.

"Faith!" he muttered, a grim smile relaxing for a moment the stern
lines of his face, "thou art strangely nervous, Guido, that such a
thing doth make thee tremble! 'Tis an adage that such vermin as I have
disturbed make haste to leave a fatal ship, and, methinks, this Ship
of State is very near the rocks. 'Tis a sign from heaven that I shall
not fail." Then, turning to the pile of faggots: "So innocent are ye,
that even Elinor, with all her gentleness, might bear you in her arms
and take no harm; but----" here he bent and touched a hidden cask:
"thou art more to my liking, and the King shall hear thee speak for
me. Thine is the voice which shall tell all England that----"

For a moment the monologue was interrupted and he busied himself with
the fuse, pouring from a flask taken from his doublet, fresh grains of
powder upon the train already laid, that nothing should be lacking to
speed the fire to its destination.

Overhead sounded countless footsteps, as the pages and attendants upon
the floor of the Parliament chamber hastened hither and thither upon
their various errands.

"My good lords and bishops are assembling," muttered Fawkes; "a most
gallant gathering, I warrant. Pity 'tis, that all must perish; for
there be some who have small voice in the passing of the laws."

Suddenly there fell upon his ear the muffled sound of a cheer raised
by countless voices. The smile upon his lips grew scornful: "The
King!" he muttered, "greeting his good Parliament. 'Tis said he loves
a well-timed jest; pity to rob England of such a famous clown;
perchance in hell the devil may use his wit to while away the dinner
hour."

The noise above increased; the peers had entered the hall; the King
had ascended the throne, and it lacked but fifteen minutes to the
first stroke of eleven, when the Parliament would open--and the flint
would kiss the steel.

Despite his hardihood the man waiting in the gloom beneath the feet of
the sovereign and his noblemen grew restless as the fatal moment
approached. Through his brain flashed thoughts of the fearful
consequence of his bloody deed,--the terror, the widespread
consternation and the chaos which would follow the destruction of the
Parliament. To him came, also, the thought of his daughter--what she
would say to