“It boots not to linger. We must to Catesby without delay. He must hear your news, young man, and must learn of you the fate of Father Urban. You will come with me to find him?”
“Very gladly, an you know where he is to be found.”
A curious expression flitted across the man’s face.
“Ay, that do I know well; nor is he far from here. We shall soon reach him in that wherry of yours. He is but across the river at Westminster, in the house of Thomas Percy, who has a lodging there in right of his office and stewardship to my Lord of Northumberland.”
Kay glanced rather keenly into Cuthbert’s face as he spoke these words, but they evoked no answering spark of intelligence, and again the mask fell, leaving the face expressionless and weary as before.
“I can take you across in my boat right well,” answered Cuthbert; “and the sooner we start the better I shall be pleased, for I have a dark journey back tonight, and there be sentries on the watch along the banks who may perchance ask somewhat too curiously of my movements an I be detained late.”
“Nay, then let us hurry,” said Kay restlessly; “for Catesby will not be back for many hours, and we must needs find him. I will but tarry to get my cloak, and then we will to the boat.”
He vanished as he spoke through an open door, and Cuthbert stood looking inquisitively about him. There were several deep recesses in this vault-like place, and in one of these were piled a large number of small barrels, the contents of which Cuthbert guessed to be wine or spirits. He was rather amused at the store thus got together, and thought that Master Kay and his companions knew how to enjoy themselves, even though they did lead lonely and troubled lives. His eyes were still fixed upon the barrels when Kay returned, and a smile hovered round the corners of his lips. The man seemed to note the glance, and looked sharply at him.
“Thou knowest the meaning of those?” he said suddenly; and Cuthbert smiled again as he answered readily:
“Ay, verily that do I.”
That was all which then passed. Kay took up a lantern and led the way. Cuthbert followed, and soon the door was unbarred and barred again behind them, the wherry was pushed out into deep water, and Cuthbert’s strong arms were soon propelling it across the river, Kay steering carefully, and with the air of a man well used to the transit.
He cautioned quietness as they neared the shore, but in the little creek where the boat was pushed up not a living thing was seen. Another boat somewhat larger in build was already in the creek, and there was a post to which craft could he made fast whilst the owners landed. Kay dexterously performed this office, and taking Cuthbert by the arm, bid him muffle his face in the collar of his cloak, and walk cautiously and with circumspection. They quickly reached the great block of buildings of which the Houses of Parliament formed the most conspicuous feature; and diving down a narrow entry, Kay paused suddenly before a low-browed door, and gave the peculiar knock Cuthbert had learned from the priest.