“If you could hire the cellar—” suggested Catesby.
“Done!” said Percy. “It should save us a peck of trouble.”
“Who owns it?—or who hath it?” asked Catesby.
“Why, for who owns it, I guess the Parliament House,” answered Fawkes; “but for who hath it, that must we discover.”
“Pray you, make haste and discover it, then.”
Fawkes went out again to make inquiries. He found without difficulty that the cellar, like the houses adjoining, was held by the Wyniards, and it was agreed that Percy should call on them and endeavour to obtain it.
He accordingly went to see his landlady, to whom he represented that he wished to bring his wife up to live with him in London—she was in the country at present, and he missed her sorely—but if that were done, he must have more stowage for wood and coals.
Mrs Wyniard’s interest was aroused at once in a man who cared for his wife, and felt a want of her society.
“Well, now, I am sorry!” said she. “You see, we’ve let that vault to Mrs Skinner—leastwise, Mrs Bright, she is now—o’ King Street, to store her coals. Her new husband’s a coal-seller, see you. You should have had it, as sure as can be, if I hadn’t.”
“It were very much to my commodity,” said Percy, truthfully this time, “if I could hire that cellar, and,”—the second half of the sentence was a falsehood—“I have already been to Mrs Skinner, and hold her consent.”