“There is none I would refuse you,” answered Fawkes, halting; “but, though I have the will, I may not have the power to grant your request.”
“Hear me, then,” she replied, hurriedly. “Of all my father's friends—of all who are here assembled, you are the only one I dare trust,—the only one from whom I can hope for assistance.”
“I am at once flattered and perplexed by your words, Viviana,” he rejoined; “nor can I guess whither they tend. But speak freely. If I cannot render you aid, I can at least give you counsel.”
“I must premise, then,” said Viviana, “that I am aware from certain obscure hints let fall by Father Oldcorne, that you, Mr. Catesby, and others are engaged in a dark and dangerous conspiracy.”
“Viviana Radcliffe,” returned Guy Fawkes, sternly, “you have once before avowed your knowledge of this plot. I will not attempt disguise with you. A project is in agitation for the deliverance of our fallen church; and, since you have become acquainted with its existence—no matter how—you must be bound by an oath of secrecy, or,” and his look grew darker, and his voice sterner, “I will not answer for your life.”
“I will willingly take the oath, on certain conditions,” said Viviana.
“You must take it unconditionally,” rejoined Fawkes.
“Hear me out,” said Viviana. “Knowing that Mr. Catesby and Father Garnet are anxious to induce my father to join this conspiracy, I came hither to implore you to prevent him from doing so.”
“Were I even willing to do this,—which I am not,” replied Fawkes, “I have not the power. Sir William Radcliffe would be justly indignant at any interference on my part.”
“Heed not that,” replied Viviana. “You, I fear, are linked to this fearful project beyond the possibility of being set free. But he is not. Save him! save him!”