"Nay, then let us hurry," said Kay restlessly; "for Catesby will not be back for many hours, and we must needs find him. I will but tarry to get my cloak, and then we will to the boat."

He vanished as he spoke through an open door, and Cuthbert stood looking inquisitively about him. There were several deep recesses in this vault-like place, and in one of these were piled a large number of small barrels, the contents of which Cuthbert guessed to be wine or spirits. He was rather amused at the store thus got together, and thought that Master Kay and his companions knew how to enjoy themselves, even though they did lead lonely and troubled lives. His eyes were still fixed upon the barrels when Kay returned, and a smile hovered round the corners of his lips. The man seemed to note the glance, and looked sharply at him.

"Thou knowest the meaning of those?" he said suddenly; and Cuthbert smiled again as he answered readily:

"Ay, verily that do I."

That was all which then pa.s.sed. Kay took up a lantern and led the way. Cuthbert followed, and soon the door was unbarred and barred again behind them, the wherry was pushed out into deep water, and Cuthbert's strong arms were soon propelling it across the river, Kay steering carefully, and with the air of a man well used to the transit.

He cautioned quietness as they neared the sh.o.r.e, but in the little creek where the boat was pushed up not a living thing was seen. Another boat somewhat larger in build was already in the creek, and there was a post to which craft could he made fast whilst the owners landed. Kay dexterously performed this office, and taking Cuthbert by the arm, bid him m.u.f.fle his face in the collar of his cloak, and walk cautiously and with circ.u.mspection. They quickly reached the great block of buildings of which the Houses of Parliament formed the most conspicuous feature; and diving down a narrow entry, Kay paused suddenly before a low-browed door, and gave the peculiar knock Cuthbert had learned from the priest.

The door was quickly opened, and a rough head thrust forth.

"Who goes there?"

"It is I, good Bates--I and a gentleman--one of us--come on business that brooks no delay with Master Robert Catesby. Go summon thy master, good knave, without delay. It is needful this gentleman speak with him at once."

Kay had been leading Cuthbert along a pa.s.sage with the familiarity of a friend of the house, whilst the serving man barred the door, and answered somewhat gruffly, as though disturbed by the interruption:

"Nay, if he is one of us, let him seek the master below. He is there, and hard at work, and will not be best pleased at being called away. I have but just come up myself. I am weary as a hunted hare and thirsty as a fish in a desert. Find my master thyself, Master Kay; I am no servant of thine."

Kay appeared in no way astonished at this rough answer. He went on before without any remark, and Cuthbert, not knowing what else to do, followed. Presently they reached the head of a long flight of stairs that seemed to descend into the very heart of the earth, and from below there arose strange hollow sounds--the sound of blows steadily struck upon some hard substance; it seemed as though they were struck upon the very rock itself.

Greatly amazed, and wondering not a little what it could mean, Cuthbert paused at the head of this long flight, and saw his companion prepare to descend; but just at that moment the sound of blows ceased. A cry and confusion of voices arose, as if the speakers were somewhere in the heart of the earth; and almost immediately there dashed up the stairs a man with stained garments, bloodshot eyes, and a white, scared face, crying out in fearful terror:

"The bell! the bell! the tolling bell! G.o.d and the Holy Saints protect us! It is our death knell--our death knell!"

Kay seized the man by the arm.

"What ails you, man? what is it?" he asked, quickly and sternly; but at that moment the pale face of Robert Catesby appeared, and he was followed by a tall bearded man of very soldierly bearing, who said, in calm, authoritative accents:

"I have here some holy water, blessed by the Pope himself. If we do but sprinkle the walls with that and bid the daring fiend cease, all will be well. It is no work of G.o.d; it is a work of the devil, striving to turn us aside from our laudable and righteous purpose. Prove me if it be not so. If yon booming bell sounds again after this holy water has been sprinkled, then will I own that it is G.o.d fighting against us; but if it cease after this has been sprinkled, then shall we know that heaven is on our side and only the powers of darkness against us."

"So be it," answered Catesby, quickly and decisively; "thou shalt make trial of it, good Guido. I trow we shall learn by that token that G.o.d is on our side."

All this Cuthbert saw and heard, as he stood in the shadow at the top of the stairs consumed by a burning curiosity. Something had occurred of such overwhelming interest as to obliterate even from Kay's mind for the moment the errand on which he had come, and his presence in the house at this moment awoke no question amongst the men a.s.sembled there, who were plainly otherwise engrossed. All vanished again down the stairs, and Cuthbert stole after them with cautious footfalls, too eager to discover what could be so moving them to consider what he was doing.

It was easy to track, by their voices and the light they carried, the men who had preceded him. The long flight of stairs terminated in a long stone pa.s.sage, deadly cold; and this led in turn to a great cellar, at the far end of which a group of seven men was a.s.sembled. They appeared to be standing round the entrance to a small tunnel, and this tunnel they had plainly been making themselves; for a number of tools for boring and picking lay about, and the faces, hands, and clothes of the a.s.sembled party plainly indicated the nature of their toil, albeit from their speech and bearing it was plain that all were gentlemen.

Robert Catesby was sprinkling the walls of this tunnel with some water, using words of supplication and exorcism, and his companions stood bare headed around him. A great hush fell upon all as this ceremony ceased, and all seemed to listen intently.

"There is no sound; the devil hath taken flight. I knew how it would be!" spoke the tall dark man exultantly. "And now, comrades, to work again, for we have heard the last of our knell tonight. No powers of darkness can stand before the charm of His Holiness's power."

With an air of relief and alacrity the gentlemen seized their tools, and again the hollow or ringing sounds commenced to sound in that dim place; but Kay had plucked Robert Catesby by the sleeve, and was whispering some words in his ear.

Catesby turned quickly round, made a few strides towards the staircase, and then catching sight of Cuthbert, stopped short, and seized Kay by the arm.

"Fool!" he cried, in a low, hissing tone, "what possessed you to bring him here? We are undone!"

"Nay, but he knows; he is one of us."

"He is not; it is a lie! If he said so, he is a foul spy!"

And then striding up to Cuthbert with eyes that gleamed murderously, he looked into the youth's face, and suddenly the fury died out of his own.

"Why, it is Cuthbert Trevlyn! Good luck to you, good youth! I had feared I know not what. But thou art stanch and true; thou art a chip of the old block. If it had to be some one, better thee than any other. Boy, thou hast seen a sight tonight that must have awakened thy curiosity. Swear to secrecy--swear to reveal nothing--and I will tell thee all."

"Nay, tell me nothing," answered Cuthbert firmly; "I love not mysteries. I would fain forget all I have heard and seen. Let me tell thee of Father Urban--let me give thee his letters; but tell me naught in return. I will not know--I will not."

Cuthbert spoke with sudden vehemence. He and Catesby were mounting the stairs together. As they reached the dim vestibule above, Catesby took him by the arm and looked him searchingly in the face, as he said:

"Maybe thou art in the right. It may be better so. But thou must swear one thing ere thou goest hence, and that is--to reveal to no living soul what thou hast seen this night. Know, boy, that if thou wilt not swear this--"

But Cuthbert shook himself free, and looked proudly at his interlocutor.

"Nay, threaten me not, good Master Catesby, else I may be moved to defy thee and thy power. For the goodwill I bear thee, and for that I loathe and abhor those craven souls who will betray their fellow men to prison and death, I will give thee my word of honour to hold sacred all that I have seen and heard in this house this night. I know not what it means, nor do I desire to know. Be it for good or be it for ill, it is thy secret, not mine, and with me it is safe. But I will not be threatened nor coerced--no, not by any man. What I will not give for friendship and brotherly love, no man shall wrest from me through fear."

Catesby looked at the lad with his flashing eyes and proudly-held head, and a smile illuminated his features. Whether or not his companions would have been satisfied with this pledge, he himself was content, and with a kindly grip of the hand he said:

"Enough, boy, enough! I like thy spirit, and I ask thy pardon for dreaming of treating thee in any unworthy fashion. And now let us talk of Father Urban and what has befallen him; and give to me these papers of which thou hast been such a careful custodian."

An hour later, Cuthbert's wherry floated out into midstream once more, and swiftly sped along the dark water, propelled by a pair of strong young arms. Could any have seen the rower's face, it would have been seen to be grave and rather pale. The lights of the bridge beginning to gleam ahead of him as he looked over his shoulder, Cuthbert muttered to himself:

"This has been a strange night's work, and there be more in all than I can rightly understand. Pray Heaven I be not further entangled in such mysteries and secrets! Well did the wise woman bid me beware of underground cellars. Would I had never been into that ill place this night!"

Chapter 12: May Day In The Forest.

"Canst put up with my company, good Cuthbert? for I have a mind to travel with thee."

Cuthbert turned quickly as these words fell upon his ear, and found himself face to face with a gay-looking youth dressed all in forester's green, whom at first he took for a stranger, till the young man with a laugh removed his wide-brimmed hat, so that the evening light fell full upon his handsome boyish face; and Cuthbert exclaimed, with a start of surprise:

"Verily, it is Lord Culverhouse!"

"And thy very good cousin, Cuthbert Trevlyn," said the Viscount, as he linked his arm within that of his would-be comrade. "So let there be no more ceremony betwixt thee and me; for we are both bent upon a merry time in the forest, and we will fare forth thither together as brothers and friends."

"With all my heart," answered Cuthbert warmly; for he loved companionship, and greatly liked what he had seen of Kate's cousin and lover, the gay and handsome Lord Culverhouse. He had been once or twice recently to the great house in the Strand, generally rowing himself up to the garden steps, and sometimes taking the Viscount upon the river with him. In this way they had struck up a certain friendliness and intimacy; and Cuthbert had spoken to Lord Culverhouse of his proposed visit to the forest on May Day, although without explaining to him the real and chief object of that journey. Culverhouse had not at the time expressed any desire to accompany him, though he had asked a good many questions respecting the forest and the forest fetes held upon that day. Cuthbert had observed an unwonted animation in his eyes as he had done so; but nothing in the young n.o.bleman's manner had prepared him for this freak on his part, and he had actually failed at the first moment to recognize this fanciful figure in its smart forester's dress when first saluted by the wearer. But he was glad enough of the meeting, and the proposition of travelling in company was very welcome, though he still had one qualm to set at rest.

"I only go on foot, my lord. Doubtless you have a horse in waiting, and will soon outride me."

"A horse! not I. I have neither beast nor man in waiting. I travel alone and on foot, and for the nonce am no more Lord Culverhouse, but only Rupert de Grey--thy trusty comrade Rupert--and a would-be follower of bold Robin Hood, did he but hold his court with his merry, merry men in the free forest now. See, I wear his livery. I feel as free as air. I marvel I never thought of such a masquerade before. We will have a right merry time this joyous springtide. How long dost thou purpose to remain in the greenwood thyself?"

"I know not," answered Cuthbert, as the pair strode southward together, quickly leaving behind the last houses of London, and striking away in the direction of the forest whither both were bound. It was the last day in April: the soft south wind was blowing in their faces, the trees were beginning to hang out their ta.s.sels of tender green, the hawthorn was bursting into bloom and filling the air with its fragrance. It was, in fact, the eve of one of those old-fashioned May Days which seem utterly to have gone by now, and all nature was rejoicing in the sweet exaltation of the happy springtide, full of the promises of the golden summer to come.

Cuthbert's heart swelled with delight as he looked about him and felt that the strife and bustle of the great city were at last shaken off. In spite of the spell exercised upon him by the life of London, he had for some weeks been pining like a caged bird for the freedom of the country again, the vault of the sky alone above him, the songs of the birds in his ears. The spring had brought to him yearnings and desires which he scarcely understood, and latterly he had been counting the days which must pa.s.s ere he should find himself in the forest once again.

In his uncle's house matters were growing a little strained. Martin Holt undoubtedly suspected something of the matter betwixt him and Cherry, and as plainly disapproved. He looked upon Cherry as promised to her cousin Jacob, and doubtless he thought the steady, plodding, slow-witted son of the house of Dyson a far safer husband for his feather-brained youngest than handsome Cuthbert Trevlyn, with his gentler birth, his quick and keen intelligence, and his versatile, inquiring mind, which was always inclining him to meddle in matters better left alone, and to judge for himself with an independence that was perilous in times like these. Not that Martin Holt was himself averse to independence of judgment, rather the reverse; but he knew the dangers besetting the path of those who were resolved to think and judge for themselves, and he would fain have seen his youngest and dearest child safely made over to the care of one who would be content to go through life without asking troublesome questions or intermeddling with matters of danger and difficulty, and would conform to all laws, civil and religious, without a qualm, recognizing the King's will as supreme in all matters, temporal and spiritual, without a doubt or a scruple. Cherry would be safe with Jacob, that was Martin's feeling, whilst with Cuthbert he could have no such security. Cuthbert had still his way to make in the world, and it had not yet appeared that he would be of any use in business matters. He was clever with his pen. He was a good scholar, and had been able to make himself useful to his uncle in a number of small matters where his quickness and sharp wits had room to work. He was also of no small use in the matter of the building and fitting up of the new sloop, in which he took such keen interest. He would go over every bit of the work, comparing it with what he saw in other vessels, and learning quickly to distinguish good workmanship from bad. He became so ready of resource and suggestion when any small difficulty occurred, that both Martin Holt and Abraham Dyson learned to think exceedingly well of his abilities, and employed him largely in matters where quickness of observation and apprehension was wanted. But for all that, and despite the fact that he had earned some considerable sum of money (as he reckoned it) during the winter and spring months, he had shown no great desire to settle himself down to any steady occupation or trade, and neither of the elder men saw any opening for him that should give him regular and permanent occupation.