“I know it,” retorted the pursuivant. “I found her dead body when I visited her cell on my way hither, and gave orders to have it interred without coffin or shroud in that part of the burial-ground of the Collegiate Church in Manchester reserved for common felons.”
“I know not what stays my hand,” rejoined Guy Fawkes, fiercely. “But I am strongly tempted to give you a grave beside her.”
“I will put your daring to the proof!” cried the pursuivant, snatching a pike from one of his followers, and brandishing it over his head. “Throw down your arms, or you die!”
“Back!” exclaimed Guy Fawkes, presenting a petronel at him, “or I lodge a bullet in your brain.”
“Be advised by me, and rush not on certain destruction, good Master Pursuivant,” said the foremost soldier, plucking his mantle. “I see by his bloodthirsty looks that the villain is in earnest.”
“I hear footsteps,” cried the other soldier; “our comrades are at hand.”
“Then it is time for me to depart,” cried Guy Fawkes, springing through the secret door, and closing it after him.
“Confusion!” exclaimed the pursuivant; “but he shall not escape. Break open the panel.”
The order was promptly obeyed. The men battered the stout oak board, which was of great thickness, with their pikes, but it resisted every effort, nor was it until the arrival of a fresh band of soldiers with lights, mallets, chisels, and other implements suitable to the purpose, that it could be forced open. This accomplished, the pursuivant, commanding his attendants to follow him, dashed through the aperture. As they proceeded singly along the narrow passage, the roof became so low that they were compelled to adopt a stooping posture. In this manner they hurried on until their further progress was stopped by a massive stone door, which appeared to descend from above by some hidden contrivance, no trace of bolt or other fastening being discernible. The flag fitted closely in channels in the walls, and had all the appearance of solid masonry. After examining this obstacle for a moment, the pursuivant was convinced that any attempt to move it would be impracticable, and muttering a deep execration, he gave the word to return.
“From the course it appears to take,” he observed, “this passage must communicate with the garden,—perhaps with the further side of the moat. We may yet secure them, if we use despatch.”