Part 2 (1/2)

”'And why not?' I replied, 'having sent for thee.'

”At this his astonishment was great, yet was he pleased that he had come upon me so handily. He had, he told me, but just arrived in London, having come hither to obtain service under me, and to see once more his daughter.”

”And,” said Fawkes, Winter having finished, ”having so quickly found one, I would seek the other. Blood is thicker than water, and I warrant me the la.s.s is much improved both in stature and knowledge.

'Tis now close upon the morning, good gentlemen, therefore I pray thee, Sir Winter, direct me whither I shall go, being in sore haste to find her.”

Winter drew Catesby aside, whereupon a whispered consultation followed, the drift of which was evidently known to Percy, Wright and Digsby, though Fawkes wondered somewhat at it. His impatience soon showed itself.

”Zounds!” cried he, striking with his clenched hand the hilt of his rapier, ”I am much beholden to thee, Sir Winter, and later--but now, I pray thee, make haste, that I find my daughter.”

Catesby flushed angrily, for the words of the soldier of fortune struck illy upon his haughty temper, and he would have replied, but Winter pressed his arm.

”Good Guido,” said he, soothingly, ”thy haste is most commendable. Go then to thy daughter, and that thou mayest not miss the way, follow closely the directions I shall give thee. Upon leaving Sir Percy's door, turn thou to the left, going down the street which leads past the gate of St. Paul's. Proceed five hundred paces, then turn about to thy left, when thou wilt see before thee a narrow street, upon the corner of which is situate a gabled dwelling, bearing upon its peak a golden arrow. Count then two score doors from the corner, and upon the three and fortieth, knock loudly; 'tis there thy daughter dwelleth.”

At Winter's words all signs of impatience vanished from the soldier's manner.

”By the keys of Peter!” cried he, ”I am much beholden to thy lords.h.i.+p.

Having spoken with the la.s.s, where may I find thee?”

”Fear not,” replied Winter, ”for in the evening, about the hour of nine, I will come for thee. Go thou, then, speedily.”

Fawkes made haste to s.n.a.t.c.h his cloak, and having wrapped it about him, bowed to the company and, preceded by Percy, clattered down the stairs.

”Methinks he will serve us,” muttered Winter; ”yet, good Catesby, must we deal gently with him, for, being of an exceeding rough nature, 'twill need but an ill-timed word to turn him into gunpowder.”

CHAPTER III.

THE HOME-COMING OF GUIDO FAWKES.

”By my hilt!” exclaimed Fawkes, as he closed the door of the council chamber and wrapped his long cloak well about him, ”'tis a merry night I've had; first, in none too clean a pot-house; then a stout thrust for good Sir Thomas,--'twas pa.s.sing strange that I did once more stand twixt him and glory; and, last of all, a stoup of good old wine in the company of a most n.o.ble throng. Indeed, good Guido,” he continued, as musing to himself he walked along, ”thou wert made, I marry, for better things than cracking the knavish pates of yellow Dons; but guard thy touchy temper well, for even to-night thou couldst but sadly brook a small delay, and wouldst have answered my Lord Catesby's haughty look with scant courtesy. I fear thy warlike nature would poorly thrive upon a diet of quiet living. But these be times when the dogs of war are ill leashed, and need small urging to slip their fetters and bark and bite anew. I question much what the morrow holds, and would that Sir Thomas had made some mention of my employ.

”By St. George,” he added after a moment, slackening his pace as if a sudden thought occurred to him, ”they did seem but poorly pleased to see a strange face standing in their door, until Sir Walter stood sponsor for the same. Aye, and what names had these n.o.ble gentlemen--Catesby, Wright, Digsby, Percy! All good Catholics,” he continued, a cunning smile twitching the corners of his mouth. ”And, who is King? Why, James Stuart, to be sure, a most bigoted Protestant!

What was it that Master Martin said about Mary's dripping head? Well, well, friend Guido, thy good sword may not be red with rust alone; wait but a little while, and thy employment may be most pleasing to thy taste, and thy conscience, also.” Then he drew his cloak more closely about him and quickly proceeded on his way.

At last, following the direction given him by Winter, Fawkes arrived before a small, neat house, situated in the outskirts of the city; stopping in front to make sure it was the one for which he was in quest, he proceeded up the steps and knocked thrice. No answer followed his summons, and after several moments of waiting, which were consumed in the stamping of feet and walking up and down, for it was bitterly cold in the frosty air, he again repeated the announcement of his presence to those within, this time with better result. The sound of a cas.e.m.e.nt opening, caused him to look up, and he beheld the wrinkled visage of an old woman, who, with blinking red-rimmed eyes, and night-cap on her head, stood regarding him with an air of evident disfavor, for presently she cried in a shrill, toothless voice, ”Get thee gone, thou beggar, I have naught for thee.” ”By my soul, good mother,” answered the man, laughing heartily, ”thy welcome doth match the morning air in warmth. Dost not know thy son Guy?”

”By the blessed Virgin!” exclaimed she, in half-frightened tones, evidently engendered by a most wholesome respect for her son, ”wait but a trice until the door be unbarred.” Saying which, she hastily withdrew her head and closed the window. Immediately after, the shrill tones of her voice were heard within the house, crying: ”Mistress Elinor! Mistress Elinor! hurry down and let thy sire in, for he stands without!” A moment of silence, followed by the drawing of bolts, and suddenly the door was thrown open, disclosing the figure of a girl, who, with outstretched arms, exclaimed: ”My father!”

Standing bathed in the rosy light of coming day, she was in high contrast to the rough, weather-beaten man, who quickly clasped her to his breast. The pale and lightly tinted olive complexion, which showed descent from some far-off Castilian ancestor, harmonized well with the dainty but clear cut features. A shapely head, surrounded by a wealth of dark and glossy hair, carried downward from the temples and gathered into a knot behind, so as to completely cover the fragile ears, formed a fitting frame for eyes of the darkest violet, which, as they gazed up into his, showed the fondest love. A soft gray gown, half closed at the throat and fastened about the waist by a silver girdle, completed the attire of a slender but perfect figure, thrown into bold outline by her att.i.tude.

”Forsooth,” exclaimed Fawkes, as soon as he could speak for her caresses, ”methinks thou at least art glad to see thy old father once again.” Then, as he held her at arm's length, that he might better gaze upon the face, ”indeed, thou art changed; 'tis the promise of the bud fulfilled in the blossoming flower. But let us in, for the cold air ill becomes me after the warming sun of Spain, and frost but roughly handles such tender plants as thou art.”

”Nay, nay!” exclaimed she, closing the door and throwing her arms about him, ”thy tender plant is naught but a sprig of hardy ivy, which hath needed these many months the st.u.r.dy oak on which to cling.” Then, with a little s.h.i.+ver, and a laugh, as her warm body rested against the cold steel of his breastplate, ”thou dost give thy ivy but a chilly hold, Sir Oak.”

”Ah,” said Fawkes, looking at her; ”thou wert always the same dainty puss, but I trow this cold cuira.s.s hath been warm enough even for thy nestling, as down it hath gushed the warm blood of many a valiant foe killed in close conflict. But enough of battles now, my pretty, for home once more am I, and not sorry to let such b.l.o.o.d.y deeds rest.”

Unfastening his cloak, sword and breastplate, he threw himself into a chair before the fire which burned brightly on the hearth.