“Oh! do not say so,” she cried, in a voice of agony. “I hoped you had relented.”
At this moment a peculiar knock was heard at the door. It was thrice repeated, and the strokes vibrated, though with different effect, through every bosom.
“He is here,” cried Catesby, rising.
“Viviana, go to your chamber,” commanded Guy Fawkes, grasping her hand, and leading her towards the stairs.
But she resisted his efforts, and fell on her knees.
“I will not go,” she cried, in a supplicating tone, “unless you will spare this man's life.”
“I have already told you my fixed determination,” rejoined Fawkes, fiercely. “If you will not retire of your own free will, I must force you.”
“If you attempt it, I will scream, and alarm your victim,” she replied. “Mr. Catesby,” she added, “have my prayers, my entreaties, no weight with you? Will you not grant me his life?”
“No!” replied Catesby, fiercely. “She must be silenced,” he added, with a significant look at Fawkes.
“She shall,” replied the latter, drawing his poniard. “Viviana!” he continued, in a voice, and with a look that left no doubt as to his intentions, “do not compel me to be your destroyer.”