“We wait for you, Mr Catesby,” said Sir Everard. “You have been our leader from the beginning, and we of your following will not forsake you now.”
“Too late for anything of that sort,” was Catesby’s decision. “There are scarce enough of us, and word will sure be sent to my Lord Harrington, quicker than we could reach the place. Remember, they will go direct, and we have come round. Nay, our only way is to gather all our friends together, and see what manner of stand we can make. In numbers is our safety.”
“Every Catholic in the realm will rally to us,” said Sir Everard.
“And many Protestants belike,” suggested Robert Winter.
“Marry, we shall have brave following, ere we be twelve hours older,” said Percy. “But which way go we now?”
“Let us first cross over to Grant’s; we shall maybe increase our numbers there: then go we to Coughton, pressing such as will join us on the way.”
“Done!” said Percy, always the first to agree to anything which was action, and not waiting for events.
Outside, in the meantime, Bennet Leeson was walking the horses, as he had been requested.
“Tarry a bit, Leeson: thou hast not yet handled all thou mayest gain this night,” said a voice the smith knew.
“Why, whence came you, Tom Bates?”