Guy Fawkes (Historical Novel). William Harrison Ainsworth

and mutilated object that met his gaze, he recognised the pursuivant. The dying wretch also recognised him, and attempted to speak; but in vain—his tongue refused its office, and with a horrible attempt at articulation, he expired.

      Alarmed by the explosion, the domestics,—who it has already been mentioned were confined in the cellar;—were rendered so desperate by their fears, that they contrived to break out of their prison, and now hastened to the stables to ascertain the cause of the report. Leaving them to assist the sufferers, whose dreadful groans awakened some feelings of compunction in his iron breast, Guy Fawkes caught the steed,—which had broken its bridle and rushed off, and now stood shivering, shaking, and drenched in moisture near the drawbridge,—and, mounting it, galloped towards the cave.

      At its entrance, he was met by Humphrey Chetham and Oldcorne, who eagerly inquired what had happened.

      Guy Fawkes briefly explained.

      “It is the hand of Heaven manifested by your arm, my son,” observed the priest. “Would that it had stricken the tyrant and apostate prince by whom our church is persecuted! But his turn will speedily arrive.”

      “Peace, father!” cried Guy Fawkes, sternly.

      “I do not lament the fate of the pursuivant,” observed Humphrey Chetham. “But this is a frightful waste of human life—and in such a cause!”

      “It is the cause of Heaven, young sir,” rejoined the priest, angrily.

      “I do not think so,” returned Chetham; “and, but for my devotion to Viviana, I would have no further share in it.”

      “You are at liberty to leave us, if you think proper,” retorted the priest, coldly.

      “Nay, say not so, father,” interposed Viviana, who had been an unobserved listener to the foregoing discourse. “You owe your life—your liberty, to Mr. Chetham.”

      “True, daughter,” replied the priest. “I have been too hasty, and entreat his forgiveness.”

      “You have it, reverend sir,” rejoined the young merchant. “And now, Master Heydocke,” he added, turning to the steward, “you may return to the Hall with safety. No one will molest you more, and your presence may be needed.”

      “But my young mistress—” said Heydocke.

      “I am setting out for Holywell to join my father,” replied Viviana. “You will receive our instructions from that place.”

      “It is well,” returned the old man, bowing respectfully. “Heaven shield us from further misfortune!”

      Humphrey Chetham having assisted Viviana into the saddle, and the rest of the party having mounted, they took the road to Chester, while Heydocke returned to the Hall.