Cuthbert spoke with sudden vehemence.  He and Catesby were mounting the stairs together.  As they reached the dim vestibule above, Catesby took him by the arm and looked him searchingly in the face, as he said: 

“Maybe thou art in the right.  It may be better so.  But thou must swear one thing ere thou goest hence, and that is—­to reveal to no living soul what thou hast seen this night.  Know, boy, that if thou wilt not swear this—­”

But Cuthbert shook himself free, and looked proudly at his interlocutor.

“Nay, threaten me not, good Master Catesby, else I may be moved to defy thee and thy power.  For the goodwill I bear thee, and for that I loathe and abhor those craven souls who will betray their fellow men to prison and death, I will give thee my word of honour to hold sacred all that I have seen and heard in this house this night.  I know not what it means, nor do I desire to know.  Be it for good or be it for ill, it is thy secret, not mine, and with me it is safe.  But I will not be threatened nor coerced—­no, not by any man.  What I will not give for friendship and brotherly love, no man shall wrest from me through fear.”

Catesby looked at the lad with his flashing eyes and proudly-held head, and a smile illuminated his features.  Whether or not his companions would have been satisfied with this pledge, he himself was content, and with a kindly grip of the hand he said: 

“Enough, boy, enough!  I like thy spirit, and I ask thy pardon for dreaming of treating thee in any unworthy fashion.  And now let us talk of Father Urban and what has befallen him; and give to me these papers of which thou hast been such a careful custodian.”

An hour later, Cuthbert’s wherry floated out into midstream once more, and swiftly sped along the dark water, propelled by a pair of strong young arms.  Could any have seen the rower’s face, it would have been seen to be grave and rather pale.  The lights of the bridge beginning to gleam ahead of him as he looked over his shoulder, Cuthbert muttered to himself: 

“This has been a strange night’s work, and there be more in all than I can rightly understand.  Pray Heaven I be not further entangled in such mysteries and secrets!  Well did the wise woman bid me beware of underground cellars.  Would I had never been into that ill place this night!”

Chapter 12:  May Day In The Forest.

“Canst put up with my company, good Cuthbert? for I have a mind to travel with thee.”

Cuthbert turned quickly as these words fell upon his ear, and found himself face to face with a gay-looking youth dressed all in forester’s green, whom at first he took for a stranger, till the young man with a laugh removed his wide-brimmed hat, so that the evening light fell full upon his handsome boyish face; and Cuthbert exclaimed, with a start of surprise: 

“Verily, it is Lord Culverhouse!”