d Walsh, sheriff of Worcestershire, armed
with the royal authority to seize the persons of such conspirators as
chanced to fall in his way.

It was the sheriff who halted the troop some fifty paces from the
house, and, attended by Sir John Foliot and two musketeers, advanced
boldly to the closed door.

Trying the latch and finding the portal barred, he tapped upon the
panel with the hilt of his sword. None from within replied. Again the
sheriff rapped, and a voice demanded who it was that sought
admittance, and what might be his errand.

"That," replied Sir Richard, "is well known to thee. Open, therefore,
in the King's name!"

The conspirators hesitated, for the command was one wont to be obeyed
in England.

"Open!" repeated the sheriff; "lay down your arms!"

"We will die," replied Catesby firmly, "but will not open unto thee."

"Die thou shalt," replied Sir Richard cheerily, "with thy head upon
the block." So saying, and perceiving that those within would sell
their lives dearly, he returned to his men, ordering that some quickly
fire the building, others stand ready to receive any, who, driven
forth by fear or flame, might seek to escape through the garden.

Perceiving that they were like to be burned alive, those in the house
resolved to gain the garden, and with sword in hand contend with the
King's men. 'Twas Winter who unloosed the bolt; and perchance
something had come of the venture, for the besieged were of most
determined purpose, if some of the soldiers had not discharged their
muskets, and a ball striking Sir Thomas in the shoulder wounded him
sorely. A second fire sent a rain of balls through the open doorway,
some of them hitting my Lord of Rookwood and the two Wrights,
Christopher and John,--stretching them dead upon the floor.

"God's mercy!" cried Catesby; "let us forth, ere we all be murdered.
Stand by me, Tom, and we will die together."

Winter, whose face was white with pain, replied hoarsely: "That will
I, sir; but having lost the use of my right arm, I fear I will be
taken."

Yet he stooped and caught up his sword with his left hand, standing a
little back of Catesby and Percy who blocked the doorway.

"Wouldst contend against us?" cried the sheriff of Worcestershire, and
then ordered that a third volley be delivered by his musketeers.

Most of the balls lodged themselves in the wall of the building, or
tore splinters from the casement of the door. But one, as though
resolved to