CHAPTER XIX.
THE DISCOVERY.
Tendering his arm to Fawkes, who was almost too feeble to walkunsupported, Catesby led him slowly to the Hall. On reaching it, theymet Viviana, in a state bordering upon distraction, but her distress wasspeedily relieved by their assurances that the young merchant haddeparted unhurt,--a statement immediately afterwards confirmed by theentrance of Martin Heydocke, charged with a message from his master toher. Without communicating his design to the others, and, indeed, almostshunning Viviana, Catesby proceeded to the outbuilding where he haddeposited Garnet. He found him in great pain, and praying fervently tobe released from his suffering.
"Do not despair, father," said Catesby, in as cheerful a tone as hecould assume, "the worst is over. Viviana is in safety. Father Oldcornehas escaped, and is within a short distance of us, and Guy Fawkes isfully able to undertake a journey of any distance. You are our soleconcern. But I am assured, if you will allow me to exercise the slightsurgical skill I possess in your behalf, that you will be able toaccompany us."
"Do with me what you please, my son," groaned Garnet. "But, if my caseis as desperate as I believe it, I entreat you not to bestow any furthercare upon me, and, above all, not to expose yourself to risk on myaccount. Our enemies are sure to pursue us,--and what matter if I amcaptured? They will wreak their vengeance on a worthless carcass,--forsuch I shall soon be. But it would double the anguish I now endure, ifyou and Fawkes were to fall into their hands. Go, then, and leave mehere to perish. My dying moments will be cheered by the conviction thatthe great enterprise--for which alone I desire to live--will not beunaccomplished."
"There is no need to leave you, father," replied Catesby, "nor shall anyconsideration induce me to do so, till I have rendered you every aidthat circumstances will permit."
"My son," replied Garnet, faintly, "the most efficacious balm you canapply will be the certainty that you are in safety. You say Viviana ishere. Fly with Fawkes, and leave me to her care."
"She must go with us," observed Catesby, uneasily.
"Not so, my son," returned Garnet; "her presence will only endanger you.She must _not_ go. And you must abandon all hopes of an union with her."
"I would as soon abandon the great design itself," returned Catesby,moodily.
"If you persist in this, you will ruin it," rejoined Garnet. "Think ofher no more. Bend your thoughts exclusively on the one grand object, andbe what you are chosen to be, the defender and deliverer of our holyChurch."
"I would gladly act as you advise me, father," replied Catesby; "but Iam spell-bound by this maiden."
"This is idle from you, my son," replied Garnet, reproachfully."Separate yourself from her, and you will soon regain your formermastery over yourself."
"Well, well, father," rejoined Catesby, "the effort, at least, shall bemade. But her large possessions, which would be so useful to our cause,and which, if I wedded her, would be wholly devoted to it,--think ofwhat we lose, father."
"I _have_ thought of it, my son," replied Garnet; "but the considerationdoes not alter my opinion: and if I possess any authority over you, Istrictly enjoin you not to proceed farther in the matter. Viviana nevercan be yours."
"She _shall_ be, nevertheless," muttered Catesby, "and before many hourshave elapsed,--if not by her own free will, by force. I have ever shownmyself obedient to your commands, father," he added aloud, "and I shallnot transgress them now."
"Heaven keep you in this disposition, my dear son!" exclaimed Garnet,with a look of distrust: "and let me recommend you to remove yourselfas soon as possible out of the way of temptation."
Catesby muttered an affirmative, and taking Garnet in his arms, conveyedhim carefully to his own chamber, and placing him on a couch, examinedhis wounds, which were not so serious as either he or the suffererimagined, and with no despicable skill--for the experiences of asoldier's life had given him some practice--bandaged his broken arm, andfomented his bruises.
This done, Garnet felt so much easier, that he entreated Catesby to sendViviana to him, and to make preparations for his own immediatedeparture. Feigning acquiescence, Catesby quitted the room, but with nointention of complying with the request. Not a moment he felt must belost if he would execute his dark design, and, after revolving many wildexpedients, an idea occurred to him. It was to lure Viviana to the cavewhere Father Oldcorne was concealed; and he knew enough of the pliantdisposition of the latter to be certain he would assent to his scheme.No sooner did this plan occur to him than he hurried to the cell, andfound the priest, as Chetham had stated. As he had foreseen, it requiredlittle persuasion to induce Oldcorne to lend his assistance to theforced marriage, and he only feared the decided opposition they shouldencounter from Viviana.
"Fear nothing, then, father," said Catesby; "in this solitary spot noone will hear her cries. Whatever resistance she may make, perform theceremony, and leave the consequences to me."
"The plan is desperate, my son," returned Oldcorne, "but so are ourfortunes. And, as Viviana will not hear reason, we have no alternative.You swear that if you are once wedded to her, all her possessions shallbe devoted to the furtherance of the great cause."
"All, father--I swear it," rejoined Catesby, fervently.
"Enough," replied Oldcorne. "The sooner it is done, the better."
It was then agreed between them that the plan least likely to excitesuspicion would be for Oldcorne to proceed to the Hall, and under someplea prevail upon Viviana to return with him to the cave. Acting uponthis arrangement, they left the cell together, shaping their courseunder the trees to avoid observation; and while Oldcorne repaired to theHall, Catesby proceeded to the stable, and saddling the only steed left,rode back to the cave, and concealing the animal behind the brushwood,entered the excavation. Some time elapsed before the others arrived, andas in his present feverish state of mind moments appeared ages, thesuspense was almost intolerable. At length, he heard footstepsapproaching, and, with a beating heart, distinguished the voice ofViviana. The place was buried in profound darkness; but Oldcorne strucka light, and set fire to a candle in a lantern. The feeble glimmerdiffused by it was not sufficient to penetrate the recesses of thecavern; and Catesby, who stood at the farther extremity, was completelysheltered from observation.
"And now, father," observed Viviana, seating herself with her backtowards Catesby, upon the stone bench once used by the unfortunateprophetess, "I would learn the communication you desire to make to me.It must be something of importance since you would not disclose it atthe Hall."
"It is, daughter," replied Oldcorne, who could scarcely conceal hisembarrassment. "I have brought you hither, where I am sure we shall beuninterrupted, to confer with you on a subject nearest my heart. Yourlamented father being taken from us, I, as his spiritual adviser, awareof his secret wishes and intentions, conceive myself entitled to assumehis place."
"I consider you in the light of a father, dear sir," replied Viviana,"and will follow your advice as implicitly as I would that of him I havelost."
"Since I find you so tractable, child," returned Oldcorne, reassured byher manner, "I will no longer hesitate to declare the motive I had inbringing you hither. You will recollect that I have of late stronglyopposed your intention of retiring to a convent."
"I know it, father," interrupted Viviana; "but----"
"Hear me out," continued Oldcorne; "recent events have strengthened mydisapproval of the step. You are now called upon to active duties, andmust take your share in the business of life,--must struggle and sufferlike others,--and not shrink from the burthen imposed upon you byHeaven."
"I do not shrink from it, father," replied Viviana: "and if I were equalto the active life you propose, I would not hesitate to embrace it, butI feel I should sink under it."
"Not if you had one near you who could afford you that support whichfeeble woman ever requires," returned Oldcorne.
"What mean you, father?" inquired Viviana, fixing her dark eyes fullupon him.
"That you must marr
y, daughter," returned Oldcorne, "unite yourself tosome worthy man, who will be to you what I have described."
"And was it to tell me this that you brought me here?" asked Viviana, ina slightly offended tone.
"It was, daughter," replied Oldcorne; "but I have not yet done. It isnot only needful you should marry, but your choice must be such as I,who represent your father, and have your welfare thoroughly at heart,can approve."
"You can find me a husband, I doubt not?" remarked Viviana, coldly.
"I have already found one," returned Oldcorne: "a gentleman suitable toyou in rank, religion, years,--for _your_ husband should be older thanyourself, Viviana."
"I will not affect to misunderstand you, father," she replied; "you meanMr. Catesby."
"You have guessed aright, dear daughter," rejoined Oldcorne.
"I thought I had made myself sufficiently intelligible on this pointbefore, father," she returned.
"True," replied Oldcorne; "but you are no longer, as I have justlaboured to convince you, in the same position you were when the subjectwas formerly discussed."
"To prevent further misunderstanding, father," rejoined Viviana, "I nowtell you, that in whatever position I may be placed, I will never, underany circumstances, wed Mr. Catesby."
"What are your objections to him, daughter?" asked Oldcorne.
"They are numberless," replied Viviana; "but it is useless toparticularize them. I must pray you to change the conversation, or youwill compel me to quit you."
"Nay, daughter, if you thus obstinately shut your ears to reason, I mustuse very different language towards you. Armed with parental authority,I shall exact obedience to my commands."
"I cannot obey you, father," replied Viviana, bursting intotears,--"indeed, indeed I cannot. My heart, I have already told you, isanother's."
"He who has robbed you of it is a heretic," rejoined Oldcorne, sternly,"and therefore your union with him is out of the question. Promise meyou will wed Mr. Catesby, or, in the name of your dead father, I willinvoke a curse upon your head. Promise me, I say."
"Never," replied Viviana, rising. "My father would never have enforcedmy compliance, and I dread no curse thus impiously pronounced. You areoverstepping the bounds of your priestly office, sir. Farewell."
As she moved to depart, a strong grasp was laid on her arm, and turning,she beheld Catesby.
"You here, sir?" she cried, in great alarm.
"Ay," replied Catesby. "At last you are in my power, Viviana."
"I would fain misunderstand you, sir," she rejoined, trembling; "butyour looks terrify me. You mean no violence?"
"I mean that Father Oldcorne shall wed us,--and that too without amoment's delay," replied Catesby, sternly.
"Monster!" shrieked Viviana, "you will not,--dare not commit this fouloffence. And if you dare, Father Oldcorne will not assist you. Ah! whatmeans that sign? I cannot be mistaken in you, father? You cannot beacting in concert with this wicked man? Save me from him!--save me."
But the priest kept aloof, and taking a missal from his vest, hastilyturned over the leaves. Viviana saw that her appeal to him was vain.
"Let me go!" she shrieked, struggling with Catesby. "You cannot force meto wed you whether I will or not; and I will die rather than consent.Let me go, I say? Help!--help!" And she made the cavern ring with herscreams.
"Heed her not, father," shouted Catesby, who still held her fast, "butproceed with the ceremony."
Oldcorne, however, appeared irresolute, and Viviana perceiving it,redoubled her cries.
"This will be no marriage, father," she said, "even if you proceed withit. I will protest against it to all the world, and you will be deprivedof your priestly office for your share in so infamous a transaction."
"You will think otherwise anon, daughter," replied Oldcorne, advancingtowards them with the missal in his hand.
"If it be no marriage," observed Catesby, significantly, "the time willcome when you may desire to have the ceremony repeated."
"Mr. Catesby," cried Viviana, altering her manner, as if she had taken asudden resolution, "one word before you proceed with your atrociouspurpose, which must end in misery to us all. There are reasons why youcan never wed me."
"Ha!" exclaimed Catesby, starting.
"Is it so, my son?" asked Oldcorne, uneasily.
"Pshaw!" exclaimed Catesby. "She knows not what she says. Proceed,father."
"I have proofs that will confound you," cried Viviana, breaking fromhim. And darting towards the light, she took from her bosom the packetgiven her by Guy Fawkes, and tore it open. A letter was within it, and aminiature.
Opening the letter, she cast her eye rapidly over its contents, and thenlooking up, exclaimed in accents of delirious joy, "Saved! saved! FatherOldcorne, this man is married already."
Catesby, who had watched her proceedings in silent astonishment, and wasnow advancing towards her, recoiled as if a thunderbolt had fallen athis feet.
"Can this be true?" cried the priest, in astonishment.
"Let your own eyes convince you," rejoined Viviana, handing him theletter.
"I am satisfied," returned Oldcorne, after he had glanced at it. "Wehave both been spared the commission of a great crime. Mr. Catesby, itappears from this letter that you have a wife living in Spain."
"It is useless to deny it," replied Catesby. "But, as you were ignorantof the matter, the offence (if any) would have lain wholly at my door;nor should I have repented of it, if it had enabled me to achieve theobject I have in view."
"Thank Heaven it has gone no further!" exclaimed Oldcorne. "Daughter, Ihumbly entreat your forgiveness."
"How came that packet in your possession?" demanded Catesby fiercely ofViviana.
"It was given me by Guy Fawkes," she replied.
"Guy Fawkes!" exclaimed Catesby. "Has he betrayed his friend?"
"He has proved himself your best friend, by preventing you fromcommitting a crime, which would have entailed wretchedness on yourselfand me," returned Viviana.
"I have done with him, and with all of you," cried Catesby, with afierce glance at Oldcorne. "Henceforth, pursue your projects alone. Youshall have no further assistance from me. I will serve the Spaniard.Englishmen are not to be trusted."
So saying, he rushed out of the cavern, and seeking his horse, mountedhim, and rode off at full speed.
"How shall I obtain your forgiveness for my conduct in this culpableaffair, dear daughter?" said Oldcorne, with an imploring look atViviana.
"By joining me in thanksgivings to the Virgin for my deliverance,"replied Viviana, prostrating herself before the stone cross.
Oldcorne knelt beside her, and they continued for some time in earnestprayer. They then arose, and quitting the cave, proceeded to the Hall.