That they were in pursuit of him he could not
doubt, and he set his teeth hard as he plied his oars, for he felt
that the issue of this chase might mean life or death to him.

Esther's warning was ringing in his ears: "Beware the dark-flowing
river--the lone house--the black cellar!"

How had he regarded that warning? He had not heeded it at all. He
had let his curiosity and love of adventure conquer both prudence
and caution; and now he was well aware that he was in some
immediate and imminent peril.

He had been warned to fly from London, but he had not obeyed that
warning. This had been partly out of generosity to his kinsmen, for
it seemed to him that by his presence amongst them he might be
increasing the peril in which they stood, and he had been told that
that was in great part due to his own rashness and hardihood.

He had remained in London. This day was the very eve of that fifth
of November on which the King's Parliament was to assemble in
state. All the city was silent and tranquil. The vague sense of
expectation and excitement that Cuthbert had observed amongst some
of his acquaintances a few days back seemed now to have died down.
Was it the hush that immediately precedes the breaking of the storm
cloud; or had the fearful tale whispered to him by the wise woman
been but the product of her weird fancy, and all his fears and
terrors groundless?

This was the question which had been agitating Cuthbert during the
past two days; and upon this dim, foggy afternoon he had taken his
wherry and resolved to find out for himself the whole truth of the
matter.

Cuthbert had not forgotten Robert Catesby, or the priest to whom he
always felt he owed his life. If any plot were in hand at this
juncture, both these men were most certainly concerned in it. And
at the lone house at Lambeth he could surely get speech of Catesby,
or learn where he was to be found; and it seemed to Cuthbert that
he could not sleep another night until he had set at rest the
doubts and fears crowding his mind.

Did he go with a view of warning Catesby that the plot was
discovered--that the dark secret was out? He himself scarcely knew.
He was not at all sure that he believed himself in the hideous
magnitude of the contemplated deed as Esther had described it.
Remembering as he did all he had heard and seen, he could not doubt
that some secret plot was afoot, but he thought it highly probable
that the scope and purpose of it had been m