It was at the end of the tenth day after the visit of Percy and Sir Thomas to Master Keyes that the six and thirty barrels—twenty-four hundred pounds—of powder were safely stored in the building next the Parliament House.
But ere this was accomplished, those who had undertaken the digging of the tunnel began their work. Under cover of the darkness, Catesby, Wright, Percy, Winter and Fawkes, entered the house leased by the Gentleman-Pensioner, and being provided with a goodly quantity of baked meats and other necessaries, that nothing should arise to call them abroad, they began their work upon the brick wall beyond which lay the masonry proper of the House.
Of the five, four were gentlemen of blood, to whom the handling of pick and bar came not so readily. To Fawkes, skilled through long service in foreign lands, where the undermining of walls and fortifications was a common occupation, it fell to direct the work, although in actual digging he took small part, it having been agreed that he should serve as watchman, warn the others did any approach the garden, or danger arise from sounds in the cellar reaching the ears of those whose curiosity might bring unwelcome investigation as to so strange a proceeding. Crowded as they were in the narrow space, the four conspirators, with doublets cast aside and limbs weary from their unusual occupation, plied drill and crowbar, enlivening their toil by discourse upon the subject of the undertaking, and stopping ever and anon to refresh themselves with ale, or wine.
"Faith!" said Sir Thomas, looking woefully upon his begrimed hands and vestment, "'tis a sorry thing to play the mole, when a sword thrust delivered from behind a curtain, or the stroke of a poniard, would as well free us of these tyrants."
"'Twere perchance easier," replied Percy, driving his drill through the last layer of bricks which stood between them and the second wall. "I, for one, would choose the Lord to give me work under an open sky, where there be less dust to blind the eyes and stifle the breath."
Catesby laughed harshly. "Could Garnet hear thee," said he, "a discourse of patience would soon be forthcoming. To your work, gentlemen; we have already pierced one wall."
An exclamation from Wright interrupted them.
"By the wounds," he growled, throwing down his crowbar with much show of temper, "one wall, indeed; a paper covering compared with this," and taking the bar again drove its point with great force against the one now exposed, belonging to the House.
The iron rebounded from the solid masonry as though driven against a sheet of steel, for the flinty stone turned it easily, and only a shower of sparks answered the blow.
"What hast thou there?" asked Winter.