“To the tyrant—to the oppressors?” demanded Fawkes.
“To the conspirators,” was the answer.
“Ha!” ejaculated Fawkes.
“Proceed, if you have aught more to ask,” cried Dr. Dee. “The flame is expiring.”
“Shall we restore the fallen religion?” demanded Fawkes.
But before the words could be pronounced the light vanished, and a heavy sound was heard, as of the body falling on the frame.
“It is over,” said Doctor Dee.
“Can you not summon her again?” asked Fawkes, in a tone of deep disappointment. “I had other questions to ask.”
“Impossible,” replied the Doctor. “The spirit is fled, and will not be recalled. We must now commit the body to the earth. And this time it shall be more decently interred.”
“My curiosity is excited,—not satisfied,” said Guy Fawkes. “Would it were to occur again!”