pon me so handily. He had, he told me, but just arrived in
London, having come hither to obtain service under me, and to see once
more his daughter."

"And," said Fawkes, Winter having finished, "having so quickly found
one, I would seek the other. Blood is thicker than water, and I
warrant me the lass is much improved both in stature and knowledge.
'Tis now close upon the morning, good gentlemen, therefore I pray
thee, Sir Winter, direct me whither I shall go, being in sore haste to
find her."

Winter drew Catesby aside, whereupon a whispered consultation
followed, the drift of which was evidently known to Percy, Wright and
Digsby, though Fawkes wondered somewhat at it. His impatience soon
showed itself.

"Zounds!" cried he, striking with his clenched hand the hilt of his
rapier, "I am much beholden to thee, Sir Winter, and later--but now, I
pray thee, make haste, that I find my daughter."

Catesby flushed angrily, for the words of the soldier of fortune
struck illy upon his haughty temper, and he would have replied, but
Winter pressed his arm.

"Good Guido," said he, soothingly, "thy haste is most commendable. Go
then to thy daughter, and that thou mayest not miss the way, follow
closely the directions I shall give thee. Upon leaving Sir Percy's
door, turn thou to the left, going down the street which leads past
the gate of St. Paul's. Proceed five hundred paces, then turn about to
thy left, when thou wilt see before thee a narrow street, upon the
corner of which is situate a gabled dwelling, bearing upon its peak a
golden arrow. Count then two score doors from the corner, and upon the
three and fortieth, knock loudly; 'tis there thy daughter dwelleth."

At Winter's words all signs of impatience vanished from the soldier's
manner.

"By the keys of Peter!" cried he, "I am much beholden to thy lordship.
Having spoken with the lass, where may I find thee?"

"Fear not," replied Winter, "for in the evening, about the hour of
nine, I will come for thee. Go thou, then, speedily."

Fawkes made haste to snatch his cloak, and having wrapped it about
him, bowed to the company and, preceded by Percy, clattered down the
stairs.

"Methinks he will serve us," muttered Winter; "yet, good Catesby, must
we deal gently with him, for, being of an exceeding rough nature,
'twill need but an ill-timed word to turn him into gunpowder."

CHAPTER III.

THE HOME-COMING OF GUIDO FAWKES.

"By my hilt!" exclaimed Fawkes,