“Deliver them to me, and I swear to you, you shall be set free,” said Mounteagle.
“I will not trust you,” rejoined Tresham. “Liberate me, and they are yours. But I will not rob myself of vengeance. I will confound you and the false Earl of Salisbury.”
“You wrong us both by your unjust suspicions,” said Mounteagle.
“Wrong you!” echoed Tresham, contemptuously. “Where is my promised reward? Why am I in this dungeon? Why am I treated like a traitor? If you meant me fairly, I should not be here, but like yourself at liberty, and in the enjoyment of the King's favour. But you have duped me, villain, and shall rue it. If I am led to the scaffold, it shall be in your company.”
“Compose yourself,” rejoined Mounteagle, calmly. “Appearances, I own, are against us. But circumstances render it imperatively necessary that the Earl of Salisbury should appear to act against you. You have been charged by Guy Fawkes, when under the torture, of being a confederate in the design, and your arrest could not be avoided. I am come hither to give you a solemn assurance that no harm shall befal you, but that you shall be delivered from your thraldom in a few days—perhaps in a few hours.”
“You have no further design against me,” said Tresham, suspiciously.
“What motive could I have in coming hither, except to set your mind at rest?” rejoined Mounteagle.
“And I shall receive my reward?” demanded Tresham.
“You will receive your reward,” returned Mounteagle, with significant emphasis. “I swear it. So make yourself easy.”
“If I thought I might trust you, I should not heed my imprisonment, irksome though it be,” rejoined Tresham.