“Hold!” cried Percy, taking him aside. “If we put him to death in this spot, his body will be found, and his slaughter may awaken suspicions against us. Guy Fawkes will reveal nothing.”
“Of that I am well assured,” said Catesby. “Shall we take the traitor with us to some secure retreat, where we can detain him till we learn what takes place at the palace, and if we find he has betrayed us, despatch him?”
“That would answer no good purpose,” returned Percy “The sooner we are rid of him the better. We can then deliberate as to what is best to be done.”
“You are right,” rejoined Catesby. “If he has betrayed us, life will be a burthen to him, and the greatest kindness we could render him would be to rid him of it. Let him go. Tresham,” he added, in a loud voice, “you are free. But we meet no more.”
“We have not parted yet,” cried the traitor, springing backwards, and uttering a loud cry. “I arrest you all in the King's name.”
The signal was answered by a band of soldiers, who emerged from behind the trees where they had hitherto been concealed, and instantly surrounded the conspirators.
“It is now my turn to threaten,” laughed Tresham.
Catesby replied by drawing a petronel, and firing it in the supposed direction of the speaker. But he missed his mark. The ball lodged in the brain of a soldier who was standing beside him, and the ill-fated wretch fell to the ground.
A desperate conflict now ensued. Topcliffe, who commanded the assailing party, ordered his followers to take the conspirators alive, and it was mainly owing to this injunction that the latter were indebted for their safety. Whispering his directions to his companions, Catesby gave the word, and making a simultaneous rush forward, they broke through the opposing ranks, and instantly dispersing, and favoured by the gloom, they baffled pursuit.
“We have failed in this part of our scheme,” said Tresham to Topcliffe, as they met half an hour afterwards. “What is to be done?”