tner.

i came nitner last night to make my couch beside the foun

GUY FAWKES.

AN HISTORICAL ROMANCE.

BY W. HARRISON AINSWORTH, ESQ.

ILLUSTRATED BY GEORGE CRUIKSHANK.

BOOK THE FIRST.

CHAPTER XII.

THE VISION.

BEFORE daybreak on the following morning, Garnet, who had been engaged in earnest conference with Catesby during the whole of the night, repaired to the sacred spring for the purpose of bathing within it, and performing his solitary devotions at the shrine of the saint. On ascending the steps of the structure, he perceived Guy Fawkes kneeling beside the fountain, apparently occupied in prayer; and, being unwilling to disturb him, he paused. Finding, however, after the lapse of a few minutes, that he did not move, he advanced towards him, and was about to lay his hand upon his shoulder, when he was arrested by the very extraordinary expression of his countenance. His lips were partly open, but perfectly motionless, and his eyes, almost starting from their sockets, were fixed upon the boiling waters of the spring. His hands were clasped, and his look altogether was that of one whose faculties were suspended by awe or terror. Aware of the fanatical and enthusiastical character of Fawkes, Garnet had little doubt that, by keeping long vigil at the fountain, he had worked himself into such a state of over-excitement as to imagine he beheld some preternatural appearance; and it was with some curiosity that he awaited the result. Glancing in the same direction, his eye rested upon the bottom of the well, but he could discern nothing except the glittering and bloodstreaked pebbles, and the reflection of the early sunbeams that quivered on its steaming surface. At length, a convulsion passed over the frame of the kneeler, and heaving a deep sigh, he arose. Turning to quit the spring, he confronted Garnet, and demanded, in a low voice, 'Have you likewise seen the vision?'

Garnet made no reply, but regarded him steadfastly.

'Has the blessed Winifred appeared to you, I say?' continued Fawkes.

'No,' answered Garnet; 'I am but just come hither. It is for you, my son-the favoured of heaven-for whom such glorious visions are reserved. I have seen nothing. How did the saint manifest herself to you?'

'In her earthly form,' replied Fawkes; or rather, I should say, in the semblance of the form she bore on earth. Listen to me, father. I came hither last night to make my couch beside the foun

tain. After plunging into it, I felt marvellously refreshed, and disposed myself to rest on that stone. Scarcely had my eyes closed when the saintly virgin appeared to me. Oh! father, it was a vision of seraphic beauty, such as the eye of man hath seldom seen!'

And such only as it is permitted the elect of heaven to see,' observed Garnet.

'Alas! father,' rejoined Guy Fawkes, 'I can lay no claim to such an epithet. Nay, I begin to fear that I have incurred the displeasure of heaven

'Think not so, my son,' replied Garnet, uneasily. 'Relate your vision, and I will interpret it to you.'

6

'Thus then it was, father,' returned Fawkes. The figure of the saint arose from out the well, and, gliding towards me, laid its finger upon my brow. My eyes opened, but I was as one oppressed with a night-mare, unable to move. I then thought I heard my name pronounced by a voice so wondrously sweet that my senses were quite ravished. Fain would I have prostrated myself, but my limbs refused their office. Neither could I speak, for my tongue was also

enchained.'

'Proceed, my son,' said Garnet; 'I am curious to know what ensued.'

'Father,' replied Guy Fawkes, if the form I beheld was that of Saint Winifred-and that it was so, I cannot doubt-the enterprise on which we are engaged will fail. It is not approved by Heaven. The vision warned me to desist.'

'You cannot desist, my son,' rejoined Garnet, sternly. Your oath binds you to the project.'

'True,' replied Fawkes; and I have no thought of abandoning it. But I am well assured it will not be successful.'

'Your thinking so, my son, will be the most certain means of realizing your apprehensions,' replied Garnet, gravely. But, let me hear the exact words of the spirit. You may have misunderstood them.'

'I cannot repeat them precisely, father,' replied Fawkes; but I could not misapprehend their import, which was the deepest commiseration for our forlorn and fallen church, but a positive interdiction against any attempt to restore it by bloodshed. "Suffer on," said the spirit; "bear the yoke patiently, and in due season God will avenge your wrongs, and free you from oppression. You are thus afflicted that your faith may be purified. But if you resort to violence, you will breed confusion, and injure, not serve, the holy cause on which you are embarked." Such, father, was the language of the saint. It was uttered in a tone so tender and sympathizing, that every word found an echo in my heart, and I repented having pledged myself to the undertaking. But, when I tell you that she

1

added that all concerned in the conspiracy should perish, perhaps, you may be deterred from proceeding further.'

'Never!' returned Garnet. Nor will I suffer any one engaged in it to retreat. What matter if a few perish, if the many survive. Our blood will not be shed in vain, if the true religion of God is restored. Nay, as strongly as the blessed Winifred herself resisted the impious ravisher, Caradoc, will I resist all inducements to turn aside from my purpose. It may be that the enterprise will fail. It may be that we shall perish. But if we die thus, we shall die as martyrs, and our deaths will be highly profitable to the Catholic religion.'

'I doubt it,' observed Fawkes.

'My son,' said Garnet, solemnly, 'I have ever looked upon you as one destined to be the chief agent in the great work of redemption. I have thought that, like Judith, you were chosen to destroy the Holofernes who oppresses us. Having noted in you a religious fervour, and resolution admirably fitting you for the task, I thought, and still think you expressly chosen by Heaven for it. But, if you have any misgiving, I beseech you to withdraw from it. I will absolve you from your oath; and, enjoining you only to strictest secrecy, will pray you to depart at once, lest your irresolution should be communicated to the others.'

'Fear nothing from me, father,' rejoined Fawkes. I have no irresolution, no wavering, nor shall any engaged with us be shaken by my apprehension. You have asked me what I saw and heard, and I have told you truly. But I will speak of it no more.'

'It will be well to observe silence, my son,' answered Garnet; 'for though you, like myself, are unnerved, its effect on others might be injurious. But you have not yet brought your relation to an end. How did the figure disappear?'

6

'As it arose, father,' replied Fawkes. Uttering in a a sweet but solemn voice, which yet rings in my ears, the words, "Be warned!" it glided back to the fountain, whose waves as it approached grew still, and gradually melted from my view.'

'But when I came hither you appeared to be gazing at the spring,' said Garnet. What did you then behold?'

My first impulse on awaking about an hour ago,' replied Fawkes, was to prostrate myself before the fountain, and to entreat the intercession of the saint, who had thus marvellously revealed herself to me. As I prayed, methought its clear lucid waters became turbid, and turned to the colour of blood.'

'It is a type of the blood shed by slaughtered brethren of our faith,' rejoined Garnet.

'Rather of our own, which shall be poured forth in this cause,' retorted Fawkes. No matter. I am prepared to lose the last drop

of mine.'

'And I,' said Garnet; and, I doubt not, like those holy men who