“And he kept his word,” replied Viviana, “for, while announcing your proposed visit, he urged me strongly in your behalf.”
“Then he knows not of your love for him?” demanded Chetham.
“He not only knows it not, but never shall know it from me,—nor must he know it from you, sir,” rejoined Viviana, energetically.
“Fear it not,” said Chetham, sighing. “It is a secret I shall carefully preserve.”
“And now that you are in possession of it,” she answered, “I no longer feel your presence as a restraint. Let me still regard you as a friend.”
“Be it so,” replied Humphrey Chetham, mournfully; “and as a friend let me entreat you to quit this place, and abandon your present associates. I will not seek to turn your heart from Fawkes—nor will I try to regain the love I have lost. But let me implore you to pause ere you irretrievably mix yourself up with the fortunes of one so desperate. I am too well aware that he is engaged in a fearful plot against the State,—though I know not its precise nature.”
“You will not betray him?” she cried.
“I will not, though he is my rival,” returned Chetham. “But others may—nay, perhaps have done so already.”
“Whom do you suspect?” demanded Viviana, in the greatest alarm.
“I fear Doctor Dee,” replied the young merchant; “but I know nothing certainly. My servant, Martin Heydocke, who is in the Doctor's confidence, intimated as much to me, and I have reason to think that his journey to town, under the pretext of searching for you, is undertaken for the purpose of tracing out the conspirators, and delivering them to the Government.”