Part 40 (1/2)

Well, it was a mystery, and one that he could not fathom. He could only feel thankful that no compulsion lay upon him to make known what he had seen and heard. His word had been pledged to Catesby and Father Urban, and how to have broken it he knew not. But there was no call for him even to think of this. It was not he who had discovered this strange plot. The knowledge of it was already with the King and his ministers. The conspirators themselves were half aware of this; Cuthbert well remembered the words of fear concerning some letter spoken in the lonely garden at Lambeth but a couple of days back.

How dared they, knowing so much, pursue their dark scheme? The youth shuddered as he marvelled at them. Did they believe themselves yet secure? What a fearful thing security such as that might become! Cuthbert longed to warn them, yet feared to intermeddle further in such a matter. And at least his first business lay in the warning he must instantly convey to Sir Richard, and that without revealing more of the truth than was absolutely necessary. Cuthbert was worldly wise enough to be well aware that the greatest protection his kinsmen could have against suspicion was absolute ignorance of the matter of which they stood suspected.

Sir Richard was absent when Cuthbert asked for him, but his son was at home, and the visitor was ushered into a room where Philip and Culverhouse were sitting together conversing by the glow of a bright fire of sea coal.

He was made very welcome by his cousin, and quickly plunged into the matter in hand.

”Philip,” he said, ”I have come to ask whether the business that has brought you to town is yet accomplished.”

”Yes, verily,” answered Philip, surprised. ”We came to talk of Kate's rash marriage with Culverhouse there, and if it was such as might safely be ignored. My Lord and Lady of Andover, however, had adjudged that their son is too far pledged to draw back, and that for the sake of the lady's honour and happiness they must be held to be solemnly betrothed. Their punishment will be the long waiting ere they may truly wed; but Culverhouse means to tell all his tale in the ears of the Prince of Wales, and he holds that the kindly youth will doubtless give him some post about his royal person that may be a stepping stone to further wealth and advancement.”

”My Lord Culverhouse need scarce do that,” said Cuthbert, speaking in short, abrupt sentences. ”Let me tell my news in a few words. The lost treasure of Trevlyn is found. It is hidden in the Cross Way House, where Mistress Kate and my sister Petronella are at this moment sheltering. It was thought the safest spot, for that the gipsies and the robbers of the road alike think kindly of the ladies of the Wyvern family, and hold their abode sacred--”

Cuthbert was at this moment arrested by a storm of questions and eager exclamations, which he had some small trouble in answering or setting aside. When he had so far satisfied his eager listeners as to be able to take up the thread of what he was saying, he went on in the same quick, abrupt fas.h.i.+on as before.

”I thought the treasure safe when I hid it there; but I have had a warning this night from one who knows well the temper of the gipsy folk. I hear that suspicion has been aroused in the tribe--that there is a resolve abroad to win it back. There is a man called Tyrrel, a notable highway robber, who has vowed to regain it for himself and his men. If this be so, I fear me that even the sanctuary of the Wyvern House will not suffice. In that house there are but women and a few old men--servants, little able to withstand a concerted attack. I have heard this news but tonight, and I have come straight on to tell thee, Philip. If your business in London be done, why shouldst not thou and thy father return forthwith home, and abide awhile at the Cross Way House, to see what fares there, and to protect the household should Tyrrel and his men attack? Methinks that they may stand in need of the presence of kinsmen at such a time as that. I hear that ill is meant by these fierce men to all who bear the name of Trevlyn. Two of the women within those doors bear that name; wherefore--”

But Cuthbert had no need to complete his sentence; both young men had started at once to their feet.

”Kate in peril!” cried Culverhouse, between his shut teeth; ”then verily her husband must find his way to her side.”

”Petronella at the Cross Way House, exposed to alarm and attack!” cried Philip; ”then must I be there to shelter and protect her.”

”We will forth this very night!” cried Culverhouse. ”I will to the house and get ready my servants to accompany me.”

”I will make all preparation here!” echoed Philip, ”and only await my father's return.

”Cuthbert, thinkest thou that they are in peril this very night? Speak; tell us all!”

”I trow not,” answered Cuthbert with some decision, knowing that his object was well accomplished and that the Trevlyns would make all speed to leave London, yet scarcely himself wis.h.i.+ng them to hurry off in the night like fugitives in fear for themselves. ”I am certain sure that no immediate peril hangs over them, or I should have been more urgently warned. I would not have you hasten thus. I trow it would more alarm the ladies to be aroused by you in the middle of the night than to see you come riding thither later in the day on the morrow. Surely it would be better to wait for day. The night is black and tempestuous; it will be hard to find the road. Tomorrow with the first of the sunlight you may well ride forth.”

Culverhouse and Philip both saw the soundness and reasonableness of this counsel, and knew that their respective fathers would both concur in this opinion, though their own impatience chafed at the delay.

”And thou--what wilt thou do thyself, Cuthbert?” asked Philip; ”come with us to Cross Way House?”

Cuthbert hesitated a few moments, debating within himself what were best. He had been warned on the one hand to flee the forest, on the other to flee the city. If his mysterious gipsy friends were right, for him there was peril in both places. But it certainly seemed to him that his own presence and company would add to the perils of his kinsmen; and his decision was speedily taken.

”I hope to join you there anon,” he said; ”but I have something set my heart upon seeing this grand pageant when his Majesty shall open his Parliament on the fifth. Methinks I will stay for that, and then perchance I will forth to the Cross Way House.”

He looked keenly at both his companions as he spoke, but neither face wore the least look of any secret intelligence. He was certain that no whisper of the plot had reached their ears.

”Ay, do so, and come and tell us all,” said Culverhouse gaily. ”I had thought to be there myself, but I must to my Kate's side.

”Philip, thy father will be something loath to leave London ere that day. Thinkest thou that thou canst persuade him?”

”I trow I can,” answered Philip; and then they both turned on Cuthbert, asking him for a more detailed account of his search after and his discovery of the lost treasure, hanging with eager interest on his words.

It was late ere he left their lodgings, and the family at the bridge house had retired to rest. He found his way to his room; but little sleep visited his eyes that night, and the fitful dreams which came to him betwixt waking and sleeping seemed charged with ominous warnings.

Sir Richard Trevlyn heard his son's story in great surprise, but he hesitated not a moment as to the course of action they must pursue.