“How have you managed to reach this window?” asked Viviana.
“By a rope ladder,” he answered. “I contrived in the darkness to clamber upon the roof of the prison from the parapets of the bridge, and, after securing the ladder to a projection, dropped the other end into a boat, rowed by Guy Fawkes, and concealed beneath the arches of the bridge. If I can remove this bar so as to allow you to pass through the window, dare you descend the ladder?”
“No,” replied Viviana, shuddering. “My brain reels at the mere idea.”
“Think of the fate you will escape,” urged Chetham.
“And what will become of Father Oldcorne?” asked Viviana. “Where is he?”
“In the cell immediately beneath you,” replied Chetham.
“Can you not liberate him?” she continued.
“Assuredly, if he will risk the descent,” answered Chetham, reluctantly.
“Free him first,” rejoined Viviana, “and at all hazards I will accompany you.”
The young merchant made no reply, but disappeared from the window. Viviana strained her gaze downwards; but it was too dark to allow her to see anything. She, however, heard a noise like that occasioned by a file; and shortly afterwards a few muttered words informed her that the priest was passing through the window. The cords of the ladder shook against the bars of her window,—and she held her breath for fear. From this state of suspense she was relieved in a few minutes by Humphrey Chetham, who informed her that Oldcorne had descended in safety, and was in the boat with Guy Fawkes.
“I will fulfil my promise,” replied Viviana, trembling; “but I fear my strength will fail me.”
“You had better find death below than tarry here,” replied Humphrey Chetham, who as he spoke was rapidly filing through the iron bar. “In a few minutes this impediment will be removed.”
The young merchant worked hard, and in a short time the stout bar yielded to his efforts.
“Now, then,” he cried, springing into the room, “you are free.”
“I dare not make the attempt,” said Viviana; “my strength utterly fails me.”
“Nay, then,” he replied; “I will take the risk upon myself. You must not remain here.”
So saying, he caught her in his arms, and bore her through the window.
With some difficulty, and no little risk, he succeeded in gaining a footing on the ladder. This accomplished, he began slowly to descend. When half way down, he found he had overrated his strength, and he feared he should be compelled to quit his hold; but, nerved by his passion, he held on, and making a desperate effort, completed the descent in safety.
CHAPTER X.
THE FATE OF THE PURSUIVANT.
Assisted by the stream, and plying his oars with great rapidity, Guy Fawkes soon left the town far behind him; nor did he relax his exertions until checked by Humphrey Chetham. He then ceased rowing, and directed the boats towards the left bank of the river.
“Here we propose to land,” observed the young merchant to Viviana. “We are not more than a hundred yards from Ordsall Cave, where you can take refuge for a short time, while I proceed to the Hall, and ascertain whether you can return to it with safety.”
“I place myself entirely in your hands,” she replied; “but I fear such a course will be to rush into the very face of danger. Oh! that I could join my father at Holywell! With him I should feel secure.”
“Means may be found to effect your wishes,” returned Humphrey Chetham; “but, after the suffering you have recently endured, it will scarcely be prudent to undertake so long a journey without a few hours’ repose. To-morrow,—or the next day,—you may set out.”
“I am fully equal to it now,” rejoined Viviana, eagerly; “and any fatigue I may undergo will not equal my present anxiety. You have already done so much for me, that I venture to presume still further upon your kindness. Provide some means of conveyance for me and for Father Oldcorne to Chester, and I shall for ever be beholden to you.”
“I will not only do what you desire, Viviana, if it be possible,” answered Chetham; “but, if you will allow me, I will serve as your escort.”
“And I, also,” added Guy Fawkes.
“All I fear is, that your strength may fail you,” continued the young merchant, in a tone of uneasiness.
“Fear nothing then,” replied Viviana. “I am made of firmer material than you imagine. Think only of what you can do, and doubt not my ability to do it, also.”
“I ever deemed you of a courageous nature, daughter,” observed Oldcorne; “but your resolution surpasses my belief.”
By this time the boat had approached the shore. Leaping upon the rocky bank, the young merchant assisted Viviana to land, and then performed the same service for the priest. Guy Fawkes was the last to disembark; and, having pulled the skiff aground, he followed the others, who waited for him at a short distance. The night was profoundly dark, and the path they had taken, being shaded by large trees, was scarcely discernible. Carefully guiding Viviana, who leaned on him for support, the young merchant proceeded at a slow pace, and with the utmost caution. Suddenly, they were surprised and alarmed by a vivid blaze of light bursting through the trees on the left.
“Some building must be on fire!” exclaimed Viviana.
“It is Ordsall Hall,—it is your father’s residence,” cried Humphrey Chetham.
“It is the work of that accursed pursuivant, I will be sworn,” said Guy Fawkes.
“If it be so, may Heaven’s fire consume him!” rejoined Oldcorne.
“Alas! alas!” cried Viviana, bursting into tears, “I thought myself equal to every calamity; but this new stroke of fate is more than I can bear.”
As she spoke, the conflagration evidently increased. The sky was illumined by the red reflection of the flames; and as the party hurried forward to a rising ground, whence a better view could be obtained of the spectacle, they saw the dark walls of the ancient mansion apparently wrapped in the devouring element.
“Let us hasten thither,” cried Viviana, distractedly.
“I and Guy Fawkes will fly there,” replied the young merchant, “and render all the assistance in our power. But, first, let me convey you to the cave.”
More dead than alive, Viviana suffered herself to be borne in that direction. Making his way over every impediment, Chetham soon reached the excavation; and depositing his lovely burthen upon the stone couch, and leaving her in charge of the priest, he hurried with Guy Fawkes towards the Hall.
On arriving at the termination of the avenue, they found, to their great relief, that it was not the main structure, but an outbuilding which was in flames, and from its situation the young merchant conceived it to be the stables. As soon as they made this discovery, they slackened their pace, being apprehensive, from the shouts and other sounds that reached them, that some hostile party might be among the assemblage. Crossing the drawbridge—which was fortunately lowered,—they were about to shape their course towards the stables, which lay at the further side of the Hall, when they perceived the old steward, Heydocke, standing at the doorway and wringing his hands in distraction. Humphrey Chetham immediately called to him.
“I should know that voice!” cried the old man, stepping forward. “Ah! Mr. Chetham, is it