“Heed not that,” replied Catesby. “You may expect me in a few minutes. Get together your men as noiselessly as you can.”
With this he hastily withdrew.
On returning to the house, he instantly roused his companions, and acquainted them with what had occurred.
“My object,” he said, “is to make Topcliffe a prisoner. We may obtain much useful information from him. As to the others, if they offer resistance, we will put them to death.”
“What force have they?” asked Sir Everard Digby, with some uneasiness.
“It is impossible to say precisely,” replied Catesby; “but not more than a handful of men, I should imagine, as they are waiting for Sir Richard Walsh.”
“I know not what may be the issue of this matter,” observed Robert Winter, whose looks were unusually haggard; “but I have had a strange and ominous dream, which fills me with apprehension.”
“Indeed!” exclaimed Catesby, upon whose mind the recollection of the apparition he had beheld rushed.
“Catesby,” pursued Robert Winter, taking him aside, “if you have any sin unrepented of, I counsel you to make your peace with Heaven, for I fear you are not long for this world.”
“It may be so,” rejoined Catesby, firmly; “and I have many dark and damning sins upon my soul, but I will die as I have lived, firm and unshaken to the last. And now, let us prepare for our foes.”