“That was a jolly fantasy of yours, to levy troops for the Archduke,” said Robert Winter. “Truly, these heretics are easy to beguile. Not one, methinks, hath the least suspicion.”
“It were soon up with us if they had,” added his brother.
“Look out for yourself, Tom, and smoke not too many pipes with externs,” responded Robert. “That young Louvaine that you affect—I scarce trust him.”
“That affects me, you mean. Trust him! I never do. He’s only a simpleton at best.”
“Have you never heard of simpletons carrying tidings?” said Fawkes. “Mind you drop not any chance words, Mr Winter, that might do mischief.”
“Let me alone for that,” was the answer.
“Gentlemen,” said Catesby, who had been in a brown study for some minutes, “methinks Mr Fawkes’s proposal to seize the Lady Elizabeth under cover of a hunting-party is good. Sir Everard, will you undertake this?”
“Willingly. Where must they be gathered?”
“Gather them at Dunchurch,” said Catesby, “for a hunt on Dunsmoor Heath, and for the day of the Parliament’s meeting: you shall have notice of the blow struck, as quick as a horseman can reach you. As soon as you hear it, then away to Combe, and carry off the young lady to my mother’s at Ashby. Proclaim her Queen, and bring her next day to London, proclaiming her in all the towns on your way.”
“May there not be some awkwardness in the matter, if her brothers be alive?” suggested the most cautious of the party, Robert Winter.