“Tortured!” exclaimed Fawkes, horror-stricken; “Viviana tortured! And I have brought her to this! Oh, God! Oh, God!”
“It is indeed an agonizing reflection,” replied Humphrey Chetham, in a sombre tone, “and enough to drive you to despair. Her last wishes, expressed only in looks, for she did not dare to give utterance to them, were that I should warn you not to approach the house at Lambeth, your enemies being concealed within it. I have now fulfilled them. Farewell!”
And he turned to depart.
“Stay!” cried Catesby, arresting him. “Where is Father Oldcorne?”
“I know not,” replied Humphrey Chetham. “As I have told you, Viviana by some means contrived his escape. I have seen nothing of him.”
And, hurrying away, he was lost beneath the shadow of the wall.
“Is this a troubled dream, or dread reality?” cried Fawkes to Catesby.
“I fear it is too true,” returned the other, in a voice of much emotion. “Poor Viviana!”
“Something must be done to set her free,” cried Fawkes. “I will purchase her liberty by delivering up myself.”
“Your oath—remember your oath!” rejoined Catesby. “You may destroy yourself, but not your associates.”