“Why, there’s a plot discovered,” he answered: “one of the worst ever was heard. The Parliament House should have been blown up this very morning, and you should have been in danger of your lives.”
“Lord, have mercy!” cried Rachel.
“Thanks be, that ’tis found out!” said Charity. “Be the rogues catched, think you?”
“One of ’em—he that should have fired the mine. They have learned nought of the rest as yet.”
“Well, for sure! Happen (perhaps) he’ll tell o’ t’others.”
“They’ll make him, never fear,” said the man, as he passed on.
“Why, my maids! are you both so warm this November morrow, that you stand at the street door?” said Edith’s voice behind them. “Prithee shut it, Charity; my mother comes anon.”
Charity obeyed, while Rachel hastily poured the astonishing news into Edith’s ears. The latter grew a shade paler.
“What be these traitors?” she said.
“They’re Papists, for sure!” said Rachel, decidedly. “Nobry else’d think of nought so wicked.”