London was soon ringing with the news of the death or capture of the plotters of the Gunpowder Treason, as it quickly began to be called; and those interested in the matter heard with satisfaction that Tyrrel and his band had been surprised, and all upon the barge had been either apprehended or slain.  Tyrrel had died sword in hand, as became a man of his calling, and the few who had escaped to their old haunts had warned their comrades there, who had fled the south country forthwith, and were scattered no man knew whither.

Only to one person did Jacob presently tell the whole story of that strange night when he set out to rescue Cuthbert from dire peril, and that person was his cousin Keziah.  The tale aroused her deepest interest, and from that moment Jacob became to her a hero as well as an idol.  The honest youth had never been idolized before—­never in his wildest moments had he hoped to rise to the level of a hero; and there was something so wonderful in finding himself so regarded that it began to have a softening and even an elevating effect upon him, and to draw forth an answering admiration and love.

The end of it was that before the Yuletide season had come, he went blushing to Martin Holt to ask for the hand of his second daughter Keziah in marriage instead of that of Cherry, whose heart had from the first been given elsewhere; and it was arranged that the marriage should take place almost at once, for Jacob pleaded he had waited long enough for his wife, and Keziah’s only wish was to please her future lord and master.

Chapter 27:  Yuletide At The Cross Way House.

Lady Humbert had got her own way—­she generally did when her mind was set upon a thing—­and a large and merry party was assembled beneath the hospitable roof of the Cross Way House to spend the festive Yuletide there together.

Sir Richard was not sorry just at this juncture to extend his visit to these kinswomen, whose known loyalty and adhesion to the Protestant cause had made the name of Wyvern respected and held in high repute even at the King’s Court.  It had been with equal satisfaction that he had married his eldest daughter Cecilia to Sir Robert Fortescue, and had allowed Lord Culverhouse openly to proclaim his betrothal with Kate.

For strange things had been happening in the world of London since the discovery of that abortive Gunpowder Treason; and, in the first panic, the name of Trevlyn had freely been whispered abroad.  Sir Richard’s friends had trembled for him, and had counselled him to keep perfectly quiet and let the evil whisper die a natural death if it would.