THE CONSPIRATORS.
On Viviana's return from her devotions, she found her father in the greatest perturbation and alarm. The old steward, Heydocke, who had ridden express from Ordsall Hall, had just arrived, bringing word that the miserable fate of the pursuivant and his crew had aroused the whole country; that officers, attended by a strong force, and breathing vengeance, were in pursuit of Sir William Radcliffe and his daughter; that large sums were offered for the capture of Guy Fawkes and Father Oldcorne; that most of the servants were imprisoned; that he himself had escaped with great difficulty; and that, to sum up this long catalogue of calamities, Master Humphrey Chetham was arrested, and placed in the New Fleet. “In short, my dear young mistress,” concluded the old man, “as I have just observed to Sir William, all is over with us, and there is nothing left but the grave.”
“What course have you resolved upon, dear father,” inquired Viviana, turning anxiously to him.
“I shall surrender myself,” he answered. “I am guilty of no crime, and can easily clear myself from all imputation.”
“You are mistaken,” she replied. “Do not hope for justice from those who know it not. But, while the means of escape are allowed you, avail yourself of them.”
“No, Viviana,” replied Sir William Radcliffe, firmly; “my part is taken. I shall abide the arrival of the officers. For you, I shall intrust you to the care of Mr. Catesby.”
“You cannot mean this, dear father,” she cried, with a look of distress. “And, if you do, I will never consent to such an arrangement.”
“Mr. Catesby is strongly attached to you, child,” replied Sir William, “and will watch over your safety as carefully as I could do myself.”
“He may be attached to me,” rejoined Viviana, “though I doubt the disinterestedness of his love. But nothing can remove my repugnance to him. Forgive me, therefore, if, in this one instance, I decline to obey your commands. I dare not trust myself with Mr. Catesby.”
“How am I to understand you?” inquired Sir William.