THE DISCOVERY.
Tendering his arm to Fawkes, who was almost too feeble to walk
unsupported, Catesby led him slowly to the Hall. On reaching it, they
met Viviana, in a state bordering upon distraction, but her distress was
speedily relieved by their assurances that the young merchant had
departed unhurt,--a statement immediately afterwards confirmed by the
entrance of Martin Heydocke, charged with a message from his master to
her. Without communicating his design to the others, and, indeed, almost
shunning Viviana, Catesby proceeded to the outbuilding where he had
deposited Garnet. He found him in great pain, and praying fervently to
be released from his suffering.
"Do not despair, father," said Catesby, in as cheerful a tone as he
could assume, "the worst is over. Viviana is in safety. Father Oldcorne
has escaped, and is within a short distance of us, and Guy Fawkes is
fully able to undertake a journey of any distance. You are our sole
concern. But I am assured, if you will allow me to exercise the slight
surgical skill I possess in your behalf, that you will be able to
accompany us."
"Do with me what you please, my son," groaned Garnet. "But, if my case
is as desperate as I believe it, I entreat you not to bestow any further
care upon me, and, above all, not to expose yourself to risk on my
account. Our enemies are sure to pursue us,--and what matter if I am
captured? They will wreak their vengeance on a worthless carcass,--for
such I shall soon be. But it would double the anguish I now endure, if
you and Fawkes were to fall into their hands. Go, then, and leave me
here to perish. My dying moments will be cheered by the conviction that
the great enterprise--for which alone I desire to live--will not be
unaccomplished."
"There is no need to leave you, father," replied Catesby, "nor shall any
consideration induce me to do so, till I have rendered you every aid
that circumstances will permit."
"My son," replied Garnet, faintly, "the most efficacious balm you can
apply will be the certainty that you are in safety. You say Viviana is
here. 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 of
her no more. Bend your thoughts exclusively on the one grand object, and
be what you are chosen to be, the defender and deliverer of our holy
Church."
"I would gladly act as you advise me, father," replied Catesby; "but I
am 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 former
mastery over yourself."
"Well, well, father," rejoined Catesby, "the effort, at least, shall be
made. 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 of
what we lose, father."
"I _have_ thought of it, my son," replied Garnet; "but the consideration
does not alter my opinion: and if I possess any authority over you, I
strictly enjoin you not to proceed farther in the matter. Viviana never
can be yours."
"She _shall_ be, nevertheless," muttered Catesby, "and before many hours
have elapsed,--if not by her own free will, by force. I have ever shown
myself obedient to your commands, father," he added aloud, "and I shall
not 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 yourself
as soon as possible out of the way of temptation."
Catesby muttered an affirmative, and taking Garnet in his arms, conveyed
him carefully to his own chamber, and placing him on a couch, examined
his wounds, which were not so serious as either he or the sufferer
imagined, and with no despicable skill--for the experiences of a
soldier's life had given him some practice--bandaged his broken arm, and
fomented his bruises.
This done, Garnet felt so much easier, that he entreated Catesby to send
Viviana to him, and to make preparations for his own immediate
departure. Feigning acquiescence, Catesby quitted the room, but with no
intention of complying with the request. Not a moment he felt must be
lost if he would execute his dark design, and, after revolving many wild
expedients, an idea occurred to him. It was to lure Viviana to the cave
where Father Oldcorne was concealed; and he knew enough of the pliant
disposition 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, and
found the priest, as Chetham had stated. As he had foreseen, it required
little persuasion to induce Oldcorne to lend his assistance to the
forced marriage, and he only feared the decided opposition they should
encounter from Viviana.
"Fear nothing, then, father," said Catesby; "in this solitary spot no
one will hear her cries. Whatever resistance she may make, perform the
ceremony, and leave the consequences to me."
"The plan is desperate, my son," returned Oldcorne, "but so are our
fortunes. And, as Viviana will not hear reason, we have no alternative.
You swear that if you are once wedded to her, all her possessions shall
be 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 excite
suspicion would be for Oldcorne to proceed to the Hall, and under some
plea prevail upon Viviana to return with him to the cave. Acting upon
this arrangement, they left the cell together, shaping their course
under the trees to avoid observation; and while Oldcorne repaired to the
Hall, 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, and
as in his present feverish state of mind moments appeared ages, the
suspense was almost intolerable. At length, he heard footsteps
approaching, and, with a beating heart, distinguished the voice of
Viviana. The place was buried in profound darkness; but Oldcorne struck
a light, and set fire to a candle in a lantern. The feeble glimmer
diffused by it was not sufficient to penetrate the recesses of the
cavern; and Catesby, who stood at the farther extremity, was completely
sheltered from observation.
"And now, father," observed Viviana, seating herself with her back
towards Catesby, upon the stone bench once used by the unfortunate
prophetess, "I would learn the communication you desire to make to me.
It must be something of importance since you would not disclose it at
the Hall."
"It is, daughter," replied Oldcorne, who could scarcely conceal his
embarrassment. "I have brought you hither, where I am sure we shall be
uninterrupted, to confer with you on a subject nearest my heart. Your
lamented father being taken from us, I, as his spiritual adviser, aware
of his secret wishes and intentions, conceive myself entitled to assume
his 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 have
lost."
"Since I find you so tractable, child," returned Oldcorne, reassured by
her manner, "I will no longer hesitate to declare the motive I had in
bringing you hither. You will recollect that I have of late strongly
opposed your intention of retiring to a convent."
"I know it, father," interrupted Viviana; "but----"
"Hear me out," continued Oldcorne; "recent events have strengthened my
disapproval of the step. You are now called upon to active duties, and
must take your share in the business of life,--must struggle and suffer
like others,--and not shrink from the burthen imposed upon you by
Heaven."
"I do not shrink from it, father," replied Viviana: "and if I were equal
to the active life you propose, I would not hesitate to embrace it, but
I feel I should sink under it."
"Not if you had one near you who could afford you that support which
feeble woman ever requires," returned Oldcorne.
"What mean you, father?" inquired Viviana, fixing her dark eyes full
upon him.
"That you must marry, daughter," returned Oldcorne, "unite yourself to
some 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, in
a slightly offended tone.
"It was, daughter," replied Oldcorne; "but I have not yet done. It is
not 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 to
you in rank, religion, years,--for _your_ husband should be older than
yourself, Viviana."
"I will not affect to misunderstand you, father," she replied; "you mean
Mr. Catesby."
"You have guessed aright, dear daughter," rejoined Oldcorne.
"I thought I had made myself sufficiently intelligible on this point
before, father," she returned.
"True," replied Oldcorne; "but you are no longer, as I have just
laboured to convince you, in the same position you were when the subject
was formerly discussed."
"To prevent further misunderstanding, father," rejoined Viviana, "I now
tell you, that in whatever position I may be placed, I will never, under
any circumstances, wed Mr. Catesby."
"What are your objections to him, daughter?" asked Oldcorne.
"They are numberless," replied Viviana; "but it is useless to
particularize them. I must pray you to change the conversation, or you
will compel me to quit you."
"Nay, daughter, if you thus obstinately shut your ears to reason, I must
use very different language towards you. Armed with parental authority,
I shall exact obedience to my commands."
"I cannot obey you, father," replied Viviana, bursting into
tears,--"indeed, indeed I cannot. My heart, I have already told you, is
another'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 me
you will wed Mr. Catesby, or, in the name of your dead father, I will
invoke a curse upon your head. Promise me, I say."
"Never," replied Viviana, rising. "My father would never have enforced
my compliance, and I dread no curse thus impiously pronounced. You are
overstepping 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; "but
your looks terrify me. You mean no violence?"
"I mean that Father Oldcorne shall wed us,--and that too without a
moment's delay," replied Catesby, sternly.
"Monster!" shrieked Viviana, "you will not,--dare not commit this foul
offence. And if you dare, Father Oldcorne will not assist you. Ah! what
means that sign? I cannot be mistaken in you, father? You cannot be
acting in concert with this wicked man? Save me from him!--save me."
But the priest kept aloof, and taking a missal from his vest, hastily
turned over the leaves. Viviana saw that her appeal to him was vain.
"Let me go!" she shrieked, struggling with Catesby. "You cannot force me
to 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 her
screams.
"Heed her not, father," shouted Catesby, who still held her fast, "but
proceed 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 with
it. I will protest against it to all the world, and you will be deprived
of your priestly office for your share in so infamous a transaction."
"You will think otherwise anon, daughter," replied Oldcorne, advancing
towards them with the missal in his hand.
"If it be no marriage," observed Catesby, significantly, "the time will
come when you may desire to have the ceremony repeated."
"Mr. Catesby," cried Viviana, altering her manner, as if she had taken a
sudden resolution, "one word before you proceed with your atrocious
purpose, which must end in misery to us all. There are reasons why you
can 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 from
him. And darting towards the light, she took from her bosom the packet
given her by Guy Fawkes, and tore it open. A letter was within it, and a
miniature.
Opening the letter, she cast her eye rapidly over its contents, and then
looking up, exclaimed in accents of delirious joy, "Saved! saved! Father
Oldcorne, this man is married already."
Catesby, who had watched her proceedings in silent astonishment, and was
now advancing towards her, recoiled as if a thunderbolt had fallen at
his feet.
"Can this be true?" cried the priest, in astonishment.
"Let your own eyes convince you," rejoined Viviana, handing him the
letter.
"I am satisfied," returned Oldcorne, after he had glanced at it. "We
have both been spared the commission of a great crime. Mr. Catesby, it
appears from this letter that you have a wife living in Spain."
"It is useless to deny it," replied Catesby. "But, as you were ignorant
of 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 the
object I have in view."
"Thank Heaven it has gone no further!" exclaimed Oldcorne. "Daughter, I
humbly entreat your forgiveness."
"How came that packet in your possession?" demanded Catesby fiercely of
Viviana.
"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 from
committing a crime, which would have entailed wretchedness on yourself
and me," returned Viviana.
"I have done with him, and with all of you," cried Catesby, with a
fierce glance at Oldcorne. "Henceforth, pursue your projects alone. You
shall 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, mounted
him, and rode off at full speed.
"How shall I obtain your forgiveness for my conduct in this culpable
affair, dear daughter?" said Oldcorne, with an imploring look at
Viviana.
"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 earnest
prayer. They then arose, and quitting the cave, proceeded to the Hall.