“Is he arrived in London?” inquired Viviana, eagerly.
“I should think not,” returned Chetham. “I passed him, four days ago, on this side Leicester, in company with Kelley and Topcliffe.”
“If the wretch Topcliffe was with him, your conjectures are too well founded,” she replied. “I must warn Guy Fawkes instantly of his danger.”
“Command my services in any way,” said Chetham.
“I know not what to do,” cried Viviana, after a pause, during which she betrayed the greatest agitation. “I dare not seek him out;—and yet, if I do not, he may fall into the hands of the enemy. I must see him at all hazards.”
“Suffer me to go with you,” implored Chetham. “You may rely upon my secrecy. And now I have a double motive for desiring to preserve Fawkes.”
“You are, indeed, truly noble-hearted and generous,” replied Viviana; “and I would fully confide in you. But, if you were to be seen by the others, you would be certainly put to death. Not even Fawkes could save you.”
“I will risk it, if you desire it, and it will save him,” replied the young merchant, devotedly. “Nay, I will go alone.”
“That were to insure your destruction,” she answered. “No—no—it must not be. I will consult with Father Oldcorne.”
With this, she hurried out of the room, and returned in a short time with the priest.