rapidly in his mind, and at last he
reached a conclusion which he muttered aloud as he went.

"That will be the best: I will to mine uncle and Philip and tell
them that. It will make them hasten away at once; but I will not go
with them. If I am suspected I must not be seen with them, nor seem
to have dealings with them. If they leave town and I remain, none
will suspect that I have warned them and sent them forth. To fly
with them would at once raise such thoughts. Here must I remain,
and let myself be seen abroad, so will they the better escape
Miriam's evil intent. Sir Richard has friends at Court. Lord
Andover and others will speak for him if need be. I doubt me much,
he being quietly gone, whether any will dare to strive to bring his
name into disgrace. There be those to find who are the guilty ones.
Sure they may let the innocent go free. As for me, I will not flee.
I would fain see the end of this matter. And perchance I might even
warn Master Robert Catesby of the peril that hangs over his head.
Strange how so gentle and courteous a gentleman can sell himself to
a work of such devilish wickedness!"

Divided betwixt horror of the deed and pity for the conspirators
who had been practically discovered and frustrated in their evil
work, and who had doubtless persuaded themselves and been persuaded
by their ghostly advisers that it was an act of virtue and justice
and right, Cuthbert walked on, wondering more and more at the
strange vagaries of human conscience, and at the extraordinary self
delusion possible to the sons of the Romish faction.

It was long since he had decided definitely and of resolute
conviction to cast in his lot with those who held the Reformed
faith; but had he ever had any secret doubts and leanings towards
the faith in which he had been reared, the revelations of that
night would have proved enough for him. He knew--none better--that
this diabolic deed was planned and executed with the full consent,
approbation, and blessing of the Romanist priests, and might even
be known to the Pope himself. Sorrowful and indignant as Cuthbert
had often been for the persecuted Romanists, and keenly as his
sympathies would have been stirred had they risen in man-like
fashion to claim liberty of conscience and fight boldly for the
cause in which their hearts were bound up, he could regard a plot
like this with nothing but loathing and horror. He wondered that
men could be found willing to sell themselves t