“As poor as a church-mouse, but he knows things we need to know, and in point of wits he is a very pigeon. He no more guesseth what time of day it is with us than my Lord Secretary doth.”
The trio laughed complacently, but a rather doubtful expression succeeded that of amusement in Garnet’s face.
“Now, good gentlemen, be quiet,” said he, piously. Was there a faint twinkle in his eyes? “God will do all for the best. We must get it by prayer at God’s hands, in whose hands are the hearts of princes.”
“You pray, by all means, and we’ll work,” said Catesby, removing the pipe from his lips for an instant.
At that moment the door opened, and a fourth gentleman made his appearance. He was as tall and as handsome as Catesby; but the considerable amount of white in his dark hair, and more slightly in his broad beard, made him look older than his real age, which was forty-six. He stooped a little in the shoulders. His manners were usually gentle and grave; but a pair of large and very lively eyes and an occasional impulsive eagerness of speech, wherein he was ready and fluent at all times, showed that there was more fire and life in his character than appeared on the surface. Those who knew him well were aware that his temper was impetuous and precipitate, and on given occasions might be termed quarrelsome without calumny.
“Shall we always talk, gentlemen, and never do anything?” demanded the newcomer, without previous greeting.
“Come in, Mr Percy, and with a right good welcome! The talk is well-nigh at an end, and the doing beginneth.”
“Our Lady be thanked!” was Percy’s response. “We have dallied and delayed long enough. This morning have I been with Mr Fawkes over the house; and I tell you, the mining through that wall shall be no child’s play.”
Winter lifted his eyebrows and pursed his lips. Catesby only remarked, “We must buy strong pickaxes, then,” and resumed his puffing in the calmest manner.
“The seventh of February, is it not, Parliament meets?”