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CHAPTER XIV.
THE EXAMINATION
Disarmed by Sir Thomas Knevet and his followers, who found upon his person a packet of slow matches and touchwood, and bound hand and foot, Guy Fawkes was dragged into the cellar by his captors, who instantly commenced their search. In a corner behind the door they discovered a dark lantern, with a light burning within it; and moving with the utmost caution – for they were afraid of bringing sudden destruction upon themselves – they soon perceived the barrels of gunpowder ranged against the wall. Carefully removing the planks, billets, and iron bars with which they were covered, they remarked that two of the casks were staved in, while the hoops from a third were taken off, and the powder scattered around it. They also noticed that several trains were laid along the floor, – everything, in short, betokening that the preparations for the desperate deed were fully completed.
While they were making this investigation, Guy Fawkes, who, seeing that further resistance was useless, had remained perfectly motionless up to this moment, suddenly made a struggle to free himself; and so desperate was the effort, that he burst the leathern thong that bound his hands, and seizing the soldier nearest to him, bore him to the ground. He then grasped the lower limbs of another, who held a lantern, and strove to overthrow him, and wrest the lantern from his grasp, evidently intending to apply the light to the powder. And he would unquestionably have executed his terrible design, if three of the most powerful of the soldiers had not thrown themselves upon him, and overpowered him. All this was the work of a moment; but it was so startling, that Sir Thomas Knevet and Topcliffe, though both courageous men, and used to scenes of danger – especially the latter – rushed towards the door, expecting some dreadful catastrophe would take place.
“Do him no harm,” cried Knevet, as he returned to the soldiers, who were still struggling with Fawkes, – "do him no harm. It is not here he must die.”
“A moment more, and I had blown you all to perdition,” cried Fawkes. “But Heaven ordained it otherwise.”
“Heaven will never assist such damnable designs as yours,” rejoined Knevet. “Thrust him into that corner,” he added to his men, who instantly obeyed his injunctions, and held down the prisoner so firmly that he could not move a limb. “Keep him there. I will question him presently.”
“You may question me,” replied Fawkes, sternly; “but you will obtain no answer.”
“We shall see,” returned Knevet.
Pursuing the search with Topcliffe, he counted thirty-six hogsheads and casks of various sizes, all of which were afterwards found to be filled with powder. Though prepared for this discovery, Knevet could not repress his horror at it, and gave vent to execrations against the prisoner, to which the other replied by a disdainful laugh. They then looked about, in the hope of finding some document or fragment of a letter, which might serve as a clue to the other parties connected with the fell design, but without success. Nothing was found except a pile of arms; but though they examined them, no name or cipher could be traced on any of the weapons.
“We will now examine the prisoner more narrowly,” said Knevet.
This was accordingly done. On removing Guy Fawkes's doublet, a horse-hair shirt appeared, and underneath it, next his heart, suspended by a silken cord from his neck, was a small silver cross. When this was taken from him, Guy Fawkes could not repress a deep sigh.
“There is some secret attached to that cross,” whispered Topcliffe, plucking Knevet's sleeve.
Upon this, the other held it to the light, while Topcliffe kept his eye fixed upon the prisoner, and observed that, in spite of all his efforts to preserve an unmoved demeanour, he was slightly agitated.
“Do you perceive anything?” he asked.
“Yes,” replied Knevet, “there is a name. But the character is so small I cannot decipher it.”
“Let me look at it,” said Topcliffe. “This is most important,” he added, after gazing at it for a moment; “the words inscribed on it are, 'Viviana Radcliffe, Ordsall Hall' You may remember that this young lady was examined a short time ago, on suspicion of being connected with some Popish plot against the state, and committed to the Tower, whence she escaped in a very extraordinary manner. This cross, found upon the prisoner, proves her connexion with the present plot. Every effort must be used to discover her retreat.”
Another deep sigh involuntarily broke from the breast of Guy Fawkes.
“You hear how deeply interested he is in the matter,” observed Topcliffe, in a low tone. “This trinket will be of infinite service to us in future examinations, and may do more for us with this stubborn subject even than the rack itself.”
“You are right,” returned Knevet. “I will now convey him to Whitehall, and acquaint the Earl of Salisbury with his capture.”
“Do so,” replied Topcliffe. “I have a further duty to perform. Before morning I hope to net the whole of this wolfish pack.”
“Indeed!” exclaimed Knevet. “Have you any knowledge of the others?”
Topcliffe smiled significantly.
“Time will show,” he said. “But if you do not require me further, I will leave you.”
With this, he quitted the cellar, and joined the Earl of Mounteagle and Tresham, who were waiting for him outside at a little distance from the cellar. After a brief conference, it was arranged, in compliance with the Earl of Salisbury's wishes, that if they failed in entrapping the conspirators, nothing should be said about the matter. He then departed with Tresham. Their subsequent proceedings have already been related.
By Sir Thomas Knevet's directions, Guy Fawkes was now raised by two of the soldiers, and led out of the cellar. As he passed through the door, he uttered a deep groan.
“You groan for what you have done, villain,” said one of the soldiers.
“On the contrary,” rejoined Fawkes, sternly, “I groan for what I have not done.”
He was then hurried along by his conductors, and conveyed through the great western gate, into the palace of Whitehall, where he was placed in a small room, the windows of which were strongly grated.
Before quitting him, Sir Thomas Knevet put several questions to him, but he maintained a stern and obstinate silence. Committing him to the custody of an officer of the guard, whom he enjoined to keep strict guard over him, as he valued his life, Knevet then went in search of the Earl of Salisbury.
The Secretary, who had not retired to rest, and was anxiously awaiting his arrival, was delighted with the success of the scheme. They were presently joined by Lord Mounteagle; and after a brief conference it was resolved to summon the Privy Council immediately, to rouse the King, and acquaint him with what had occurred, and to interrogate the prisoner in his presence.
“Nothing will be obtained from him, I fear,” said Knevet. “He is one of the most resolute and determined fellows I ever encountered.”
And he then related the desperate attempt made by Fawkes in the vault to blow them all up.
“Whether he will speak or not, the King must see him,” said Salisbury. As soon as Knevet was gone, the Earl observed to Mounteagle, “You had now better leave the palace. You must not appear further in this matter, except as we have arranged. Before morning, I trust we shall have the whole of the conspirators in our power, with damning proofs of their guilt.”
“By this time, my lord, they are in Tresham's hands,” replied Mounteagle.
“If he fails, not a word must be said,” observed Salisbury. “It must not be supposed we have moved in the matter. All great statesmen have contrived treasons, that they might afterwards discover them; and though I have not contrived this plot, I have known of its existence from the first, and could at any time have crushed it had I been so minded. But that would not have answered my purpose. And I shall now use it as a pretext to crush the whole Catholic party, except those on whom, like yourself, I can confidently rely.”
“Your lordship must admit that I have well seconded your efforts," observed Mounteagle.
“I do so,” replied Salisbury, “and you will not find me ungrateful. Farewell! I hope soon to hear of our further success.”
Mounteagle then took his departure, and Salisbury immediately caused all such members of the Privy Council as lodged in the palace to be aroused, desiring they might be informed that a terrible plot had been discovered, and a conspirator arrested. In a short time, the Duke of Lennox, the Earl of Marr, Lord Hume, the Earl of Southampton, Lord Henry Howard, Lord Mountjoy, Sir George Hume, and others, were assembled; and all eagerly inquired into the occasion of the sudden alarm.
Meanwhile, the Earl of Salisbury had himself repaired to the King's bedchamber, and acquainted him with what had happened. James immediately roused himself, and desired the chamberlain, who accompanied the Earl, to quit the presence.
“Will it be safe to interrogate the prisoner here?” he asked.
“I will take care your Majesty shall receive no injury,” replied Salisbury; “and it is absolutely necessary you should examine him before he is committed to the Tower.”
“Let him be brought before me, then, directly,” said the King. “I am impatient to behold a wretch who has conceived so atrocious – so infernal a design against me, and against my children. Hark 'e, Salisbury, one caution I wish to observe. Let a captain of the guard, with his drawn sword in hand, place himself between me and the prisoner, and let two halberdiers stand beside him, and if the villain moves a step, bid them strike him dead. You understand?”
“Perfectly,” replied Salisbury, bowing.
“In that case, you may take off his bonds – that is, if you think it prudent to do so – not otherwise,” continued James. “I would not have the knave suppose he can awe me.”
“Your Majesty's commands shall be fulfilled to the letter,” returned the Earl.
“Lose no time, Salisbury,” cried James, springing out of bed, and beginning to dress himself without the assistance of his chamberlain.
The Earl hastily retired, and ordered the attendants to repair to their royal master. He next proceeded to the chamber where Guy Fawkes was detained, and ordered him to be unbound, and brought before the King. When the prisoner heard this mandate, a slight smile crossed his countenance, but he instantly resumed his former stern composure. The smile, however, did not escape the notice of Salisbury, and he commanded the halberdiers to keep near to the prisoner, and if he made the slightest movement in the King's presence, instantly to despatch him.
Giving some further directions, the Earl then led the way across a court, and entering another wing of the palace, ascended a flight of steps, and traversed a magnificent corridor. Guy Fawkes followed, attended by the guard. They had now reached the antechamber leading to the royal sleeping apartment, and “Salisbury ascertained from the officers in attendance that all was in readiness. Motioning the guard to remain where they were, he entered the inner room alone, and found James seated on a chair of state near the bed, surrounded by his council; – the Earl of Marr standing on his right hand, and the Duke of Lennox on his left, all anxiously awaiting his arrival. Behind the King were stationed half a dozen halberdiers.
“The prisoner is without,” said Salisbury. “Is it your Majesty's pleasure that he be admitted?”
“Ay, let him come in forthwith,” replied James. “Stand by me, my lords. And do you, varlets, keep a wary eye upon him. There is no saying what he may attempt.”
Salisbury then waved his hand. The door was thrown open, and an officer entered the room, followed by Guy Fawkes, who marched between two halberdiers. When within a couple of yards of the King, the officer halted, and withdrew a little on the right, so as to allow full view of the prisoner, while he extended his sword between him and the King. Nothing could be more undaunted than the looks and demeanour of Fawkes. He strode firmly into the room, and without making any reverence, folded his arms upon his breast, and looked sternly at James.
“A bold villain!” cried the King, as he regarded him with curiosity not unmixed with alarm. “Who, and what are you, traitor?”
“A conspirator,” replied Fawkes.
“That I know,” rejoined James, sharply. “But how are you called?”
“John Johnson,” answered Fawkes. “I am servant to Mr. Thomas Percy.”
“That is false,” cried Salisbury. “Take heed that you speak the truth, traitor, or the rack shall force it from you.”
“The rack will force nothing from me,” replied Fawkes, sternly; “neither will I answer any question asked by your lordship.”
“Leave him to me, Salisbury, – leave him to me,” interposed James. “And it was your hellish design to blow us all up with gunpowder?” he demanded.
“It was,” replied Fawkes.
“And how could you resolve to destroy so many persons, none of whom have injured you?” pursued James.
“Dangerous diseases require desperate remedies,” replied Fawkes. “Milder means have been tried, but without effect. It was God's pleasure that this scheme, which was for the benefit of his holy religion, should not prosper, and therefore I do not repine at the result.”
“And are you so blinded as to suppose that Heaven can approve the actions of him who raises his hand against the King – against the Lord's anointed?” cried James.
“He is no king who is excommunicated by the apostolic see,” replied Fawkes.
“This to our face!” cried James, angrily. “Have you no remorse – no compunction for what you have done?”
“My sole regret is that I have failed,” replied Fawkes.
“You will not speak thus confidently on the rack,” said James.
“Try me,” replied Fawkes.
“What purpose did you hope to accomplish by this atrocious design?"' demanded the Earl of Marr.
“My main purpose was to blow back the beggarly Scots to their native mountains,” returned Fawkes.
“This audacity surpasses belief,” said James. “Mutius Scævola, when in the presence of Porsenna, was not more resolute. Hark 'e, villain, if I give you your life, will you disclose the names of your associates?”
“No,” replied Fawkes.
“They shall be wrung from you,” cried Salisbury.
Fawkes smiled contemptuously. “You know me not,” he said.
“It is idle to interrogate him further,” said James. “Let him be removed to the Tower.”
“Be it so,” returned Salisbury; “and when next your Majesty questions him, I trust it will be in the presence of his confederates.”
“Despite the villain's horrible intent, I cannot help admiring his courage,” observed James, in a low tone; “and were he as loyal as he is brave, he should always be near our person.”
With this, he waved his hand, and Guy Fawkes was led forth. He was detained by the Earl of Salisbury's orders till the morning, – it being anticipated that before that time the other conspirators would be arrested. But as this was not the case, he was placed in a wherry, and conveyed, as before related, to the Tower.
END OF THE SECOND BOOK
Book the Third.
THE CONSPIRATORS
The conclusion shall be from the admirable clemency and moderation of the king; in that, howsoever these traitors have exceeded all others in mischief, yet neither will the king exceed the usual punishment of law, nor invent any new torture or torment for them, but is graciously pleased to afford them as well an ordinary course of trial as an ordinary punishment much inferior to their offence. And surely worthy of observation is the punishment by law provided and appointed for high treason: for, first, after a traitor hath had his just trial, and is convicted and attainted, he shall have his judgment to be drawn to the place of execution from his prison, as being not worthy any more to tread upon the face of the earth whereof he was made; also, for that he hath been retrograde to nature, therefore is he drawn backward at a horsetail. After, to have his head cut off which had imagined the mischief. And, lastly, his body to be quartered, and the quarters set up in some high and eminent place, to the view and detestation of men, and to become a prey for the fowls of the air. And this is a reward due to traitors, whose hearts be hardened; for that it is a physic of state and government to let out corrupt blood from the heart. —Sir Edward Coke's Speech on the Gunpowder Treason.
CHAPTER I.
HOW GUY FAWKES WAS PUT TO THE TORTURE
Intimation of the arrest of Guy Fawkes having been sent to the Tower, his arrival was anxiously expected by the warders and soldiers composing the garrison, a crowd of whom posted themselves at the entrance of Traitor's Gate, to obtain a sight of him. As the bark that conveyed the prisoner shot through London Bridge, and neared the fortress, notice of its approach was given to the lieutenant, who, scarcely less impatient, had stationed himself in a small circular chamber in one of the turrets of Saint Thomas's or Traitor's Tower, overlooking the river. He hastily descended, and had scarcely reached the place of disembarkation, when the boat passed beneath the gloomy archway, the immense wooden wicket closed behind it; and the officer in command springing ashore, was followed more deliberately by Fawkes, who mounted the slippery stairs with a firm footstep. As he gained the summit, the spectators pressed forward; but Sir William Waad, ordering them in an authoritative tone to stand back, fixed a stern and scrutinizing glance on the prisoner.
“Many vile traitors have ascended those steps,” he said, “but none so false-hearted, none so bloodthirsty as you.”
“None ever ascended them with less misgiving, or with less self-reproach,” replied Fawkes.
“Miserable wretch! Do you glory in your villany?” cried the lieutenant. “If anything could heighten my detestation of the pernicious creed you profess, it would be to witness its effects on such minds as yours. What a religion must that be, which can induce its followers to commit such monstrous actions, and delude them into the belief that they are pious and praiseworthy!”
“It is a religion, at least, that supports them at seasons when they most require it,” rejoined Fawkes.
“Peace!” cried the lieutenant, fiercely, “or I will have your viperous tongue torn out by the roots.”
Turning to the officer, he demanded his warrant, and glancing at it, gave some directions to one of the warders, and then resumed his scrutiny of Fawkes, who appeared wholly unmoved, and steadily returned his gaze.
Meanwhile, several of the spectators, eager to prove their loyalty to the king, and abhorrence of the plot, loaded the prisoner with execrations, and finding these produced no effect, proceeded to personal outrage. Some spat upon his face and garments; some threw mud, gathered from the slimy steps, upon him; some pricked him with the points of their halberds; while others, if they had not been checked, would have resorted to greater violence. Only one bystander expressed the slightest commiseration for him. It was Ruth Ipgreve, who, with her parents, formed part of the assemblage.
A few kindly words pronounced by this girl moved the prisoner more than all the insults he had just experienced. He said nothing, but a slight and almost imperceptible quivering of the lip told what was passing within. The jailer was extremely indignant at his daughter's conduct, fearing it might prejudice him in the eyes of the lieutenant.
“Get hence, girl,” he cried, “and stir not from thy room for the rest of the day. I am sorry I allowed thee to come forth.”
“You must look to her, Jasper Ipgreve,” said Sir William Waad, sternly. “No man shall hold an office in the Tower who is a favourer of papacy. If you were a good Protestant, and a faithful servant of King James, your daughter could never have acted thus unbecomingly. Look to her, I say, – and to yourself.”
“I will, honourable sir,” replied Jasper, in great confusion. “Take her home directly,” he added, in an under tone to his wife. “Lock her up till I return, and scourge her if thou wilt. She will ruin us by her indiscretion.”
In obedience to this injunction, Dame Ipgreve seized her daughter's hand, and dragged her away. Ruth turned for a moment to take a last look at the prisoner, and saw that his gaze followed her, and was fraught with an expression of the deepest gratitude. By way of showing his disapproval of his daughter's conduct, the jailer now joined the bitterest of Guy Fawkes's assailants; and ere long the assemblage became infuriated to such an ungovernable pitch, that the lieutenant, who had allowed matters to proceed thus far in the hope of shaking the prisoner's constancy, finding his design fruitless, ordered him to be taken away. Escorted by a dozen soldiers with calivers on their shoulders, Guy Fawkes was led through the archway of the Bloody Tower, and across the Green to the Beauchamp Tower. He was placed in the spacious chamber on the first floor of that fortification, now used as a mess-room by the Guards. Sir William Waad followed him, and seating himself at a table, referred to the warrant.
“You are here called John Johnson. Is that your name?” he demanded.
“If you find it thus written, you need make no further inquiry from me," replied Fawkes. “I am the person so described. That is sufficient for you.”
“Not so,” replied the lieutenant; “and if you persist in this stubborn demeanour, the severest measures will be adopted towards you. Your sole chance of avoiding the torture is in making a full confession.”
“I do not desire to avoid the torture,” replied Fawkes. “It will wrest nothing from me.”
“So all think till they have experienced it,” replied the lieutenant; “but greater fortitude than yours has given way before our engines.”
Fawkes smiled disdainfully, but made no answer.
The lieutenant then gave directions that he should be placed within a small cell adjoining the larger chamber, and that two of the guard should remain constantly beside him, to prevent him from doing himself any violence.
“You need have no fear,” observed Fawkes. “I shall not destroy my chance of martyrdom.”
At this juncture a messenger arrived, bearing a despatch from the Earl of Salisbury. The lieutenant broke the seal, and after hurriedly perusing it, drew his sword, and desiring the guard to station themselves outside the door, approached Fawkes.
“Notwithstanding the enormity of your offence,” he observed, “I find his Majesty will graciously spare your life, provided you will reveal the names of all your associates, and disclose every particular connected with the plot.”
Guy Fawkes appeared lost in reflection, and the lieutenant, conceiving he had made an impression upon him, repeated the offer.
“How am I to be assured of this?” asked the prisoner.
“My promise must suffice,” rejoined Waad.
“It will not suffice to me,” returned Fawkes. “I must have a pardon signed by the King.”
“You shall have it on one condition,” replied Waad. “You are evidently troubled with few scruples. It is the Earl of Salisbury's conviction that the heads of many important Catholic families are connected with this plot. If they should prove to be so, – or, to be plain, if you will accuse certain persons whom I will specify, you shall have the pardon you require.”
“Is this the purport of the Earl of Salisbury's despatch?” asked Guy Fawkes.
The lieutenant nodded.
“Let me look at it,” continued Fawkes. “You may be practising upon me.”
“Your own perfidious nature makes you suspicious of treachery in others,” cried the lieutenant. “Will this satisfy you?”
And he held the letter towards Guy Fawkes, who instantly snatched it from his grasp.
“What ho!” he shouted in a loud voice; “what ho!” and the guards instantly rushed into the room. “You shall learn why you were sent away. Sir William Waad has offered me my life, on the part of the Earl of Salisbury, provided I will accuse certain innocent parties – innocent, except that they are Catholics – of being leagued with me in my design. Read this letter, and see whether I speak not the truth.”
And he threw it among them. But no one stirred, except a warder, who, picking it up, delivered it to the lieutenant.
“You will now understand whom you have to deal with,” pursued Fawkes.
“I do,” replied Waad. “But were you as unyielding as the walls of this prison, I would shake your obduracy.”
“I pray you not to delay the experiment,” said Fawkes.
“Have a little patience,” retorted Waad. “I will not balk your humour, depend upon it.”
With this, he departed, and repairing to his lodgings, wrote a hasty despatch to the Earl, detailing all that had passed, and requesting a warrant for the torture, as he was apprehensive, if the prisoner expired under the severe application that would be necessary to force the truth from him, he might be called to account. Two hours afterwards the messenger returned with the warrant. It was in the handwriting of the King, and contained a list of interrogations to be put to the prisoner, concluding by directing him “to use the gentler torture first, et sic per gradus ad ima tenditur. And so God speed you in your good work!”
Thus armed, and fearless of the consequences, the lieutenant summoned Jasper Ipgreve.
“We have a very refractory prisoner to deal with,” he said, as the jailer appeared. “But I have just received the royal authority to put him through all the degrees of torture if he continues obstinate. How shall we begin?”
“With the Scavenger's Daughter and the Little Ease, if it please you, honourable sir,” replied Ipgreve. “If these fail, we can try the gauntlets and the rack; and lastly, the dungeon among the rats, and the hot stone.”
“A good progression,” said the lieutenant, smiling. “I will now repair to the torture-chamber. Let the prisoner be brought there without delay. He is in the Beauchamp Tower.”
Ipgreve bowed and departed, while the lieutenant, calling to an attendant to bring a torch, proceeded along a narrow passage communicating with the Bell Tower. Opening a secret door within it, he descended a flight of stone steps, and traversing a number of intricate passages, at length stopped before a strong door, which he pushed aside, and entered the chamber he had mentioned to Ipgreve. This dismal apartment has already been described. It was that in which Viviana's constancy was so fearfully approved. Two officials in the peculiar garb of the place – a sable livery – were occupied in polishing the various steel implements. Besides these, there was the chirurgeon, who was seated at a side table, reading by the light of a brazen lamp. He instantly arose on seeing the lieutenant, and began, with the other officials, to make preparations for the prisoner's arrival. The two latter concealed their features by drawing a large black capoch, or hood, attached to their gowns over them, and this disguise added materially to their lugubrious appearance. One of them then took down a broad iron hoop, opening in the centre with a hinge, and held it in readiness. Their preparations were scarcely completed when heavy footsteps announced the approach of Fawkes and his attendants. Jasper Ipgreve ushered them into the chamber, and fastened the door behind them. All the subsequent proceedings were conducted with the utmost deliberation, and were therefore doubly impressive. No undue haste occurred, and the officials, who might have been mistaken for phantoms or evil spirits, spoke only in whispers. Guy Fawkes watched their movements with unaltered composure. At length, Jasper Ipgreve signified to the lieutenant that all was ready.
“The opportunity you desired of having your courage put to the test is now arrived,” said the latter to the prisoner.
“What am I to do?” was the reply.
“Remove your doublet, and prostrate yourself,” subjoined Ipgreve.
Guy Fawkes obeyed, and when in this posture began audibly to recite a prayer to the Virgin.
“Be silent,” cried the lieutenant, “or a gag shall be thrust into your mouth.”
Kneeling upon the prisoner's shoulders, and passing the hoop under his legs, Ipgreve then succeeded, with the help of his assistants, who added their weight to his own, in fastening the hoop with an iron button. This done, they left the prisoner with his limbs and body so tightly compressed together that he was scarcely able to breathe. In this state he was allowed to remain for an hour and a half. The chirurgeon then found on examination that the blood had burst profusely from his mouth and nostrils, and in a slighter degree from the extremities of his hands and feet.
“He must be released,” he observed in an under tone to the lieutenant. “Further continuance might be fatal.”
Accordingly, the hoop was removed, and it was at this moment that the prisoner underwent the severest trial. Despite his efforts to control himself, a sharp convulsion passed across his frame, and the restoration of impeded circulation and respiration occasioned him the most acute agony.
The chirurgeon bathed his temples with vinegar, and his limbs being chafed by the officials, he was placed on a bench.
“My warrant directs me to begin with the 'gentler tortures,' and to proceed by degrees to extremities,” observed the lieutenant, significantly. “You have now had a taste of the milder sort, and may form some conjecture what the worst are like. Do you still continue contumacious?”
“I am in the same mind as before,” replied Fawkes, in a hoarse but firm voice.
“Take him to the Little Ease, and let him pass the night there,” said the lieutenant. “To-morrow I will continue the investigation.”
Fawkes was then led out by Ipgreve and the officials, and conveyed along a narrow passage, until arriving at a low door, in which there was an iron grating, it was opened, and disclosed a narrow cell about four feet high, one and a few inches wide, and two deep. Into this narrow receptacle, which seemed wholly inadequate to contain a tall and strongly-built man like himself, the prisoner was with some difficulty thrust, and the door locked upon him.
In this miserable plight, with his head bent upon his breast, – the cell being so contrived that its wretched inmate could neither sit, nor recline at full length within it, – Guy Fawkes prayed long and fervently; and no longer troubled by the uneasy feelings which had for some time haunted him, he felt happier in his present forlorn condition than he had been when anticipating the full success of his project.
