Читать книгу Guy Fawkes: or, The Gunpowder Treason: An Historical Romance - Ainsworth William Harrison - Страница 10

“How now, ye impious violators of the tomb! ye worse than famine-stricken wolves, that rake up the dead in churchyards!” cried Guy Fawkes, in a voice of thunder, to Doctor Dee and his companion; who, startled by his sudden appearance, dropped the body, and retreated to a short distance. “What devilish rites are ye about to enact, that ye thus profane the sanctity of the grave?”

“And who art thou that darest thus to interrupt us?” demanded Dee, sternly.

“It matters not,” rejoined Fawkes, striding towards them. “Suffice it you are both known to me. You, John Dee, warden of Manchester, who deserve to be burnt at the stake for your damnable practices, rather than hold the sacred office you fill; and you, Edward Kelley, his associate, who boast of familiar intercourse with demons, and, unless fame belies you, have purchased the intimacy at the price of your soul's salvation. I know you both. I know, also, whose body you have disinterred – it is that of the ill-fated prophetess, Elizabeth Orton. And if you do not instantly restore it to the grave whence you have snatched it, I will denounce you to the authorities of the town.”

“Knowing thus much, you should know still more,” retorted Doctor Dee, “namely, that I am not to be lightly provoked. You have no power to quit the churchyard – nay, not so much as to move a limb without my permission.”

As he spoke, he drew from beneath his cloak a small phial, the contents of which he sprinkled over the intruder. Its effect was wonderful and instantaneous. The limbs of Guy Fawkes stiffened where he stood. His hand remained immovably fixed upon the pommel of his sword, and he seemed transformed into a marble statue.

“You will henceforth acknowledge and respect my power,” he continued. “Were it my pleasure, I could bury you twenty fathoms deep in the earth beneath our feet; or, by invoking certain spirits, convey you to the summit of yon lofty tower,” pointing to the church, “and hurl you from it headlong. But I content myself with depriving you of motion, and leave you in possession of sight and speech, that you may endure the torture of witnessing what you cannot prevent.”

So saying, he was about to return to the corpse with Kelley, when Guy Fawkes exclaimed, in a hollow voice,

“Set me free, and I will instantly depart.”

“Will you swear never to divulge what you have seen?” demanded Dee, pausing.

“Solemnly,” he replied.

“I will trust you, then,” rejoined the Doctor; – "the rather that your presence interferes with my purpose.”

Taking a handful of loose earth from an adjoining grave, and muttering a few words, that sounded like a charm, he scattered it over Fawkes. The spell was instantly broken. A leaden weight seemed to be removed from his limbs. His joints regained their suppleness, and with a convulsive start, like that by which a dreamer casts off a nightmare, he was liberated from his preternatural thraldom.

“And now, begone!” cried Doctor Dee, authoritatively.

“Suffer me to tarry with you a few moments,” said Guy Fawkes, in a deferential tone. “Heretofore, I will freely admit, I regarded you as an impostor; but now I am convinced you are deeply skilled in the occult sciences, and would fain consult you on the future.”

“I have already said that your presence troubles me,” replied Doctor Dee. “But if you will call upon me at the College to-morrow, it may be I will give you further proofs of my skill.”

“Why not now, reverend sir?” urged Fawkes. “The question I would ask is better suited to this dismal spot and witching hour, than to daylight and the walls of your study.”

“Indeed!” exclaimed Dee. “Your name?”

“Guy Fawkes,” replied the other.

“Guy Fawkes!” echoed the Doctor, starting. “Nay, then, I guess the nature of the question you would ask.”

“Am I then known to you, reverend sir?” inquired Fawkes, uneasily.

“As well as to yourself – nay, better,” answered the Doctor. “Bring the lantern hither, Kelley,” he continued, addressing his companion. “Look!" he added, elevating the light so as to throw it upon the countenance of Fawkes: “it is the very face, – the bronzed and strongly-marked features, – the fierce black eye, – the iron frame, and foreign garb of the figure we beheld in the show-stone.”

“It is,” replied Kelley. “I could have singled him out amid a thousand. He looked thus as we tracked his perilous course, with his three companions, the priest, Chetham, and Viviana Radcliffe, across Chat Moss.”

“How have you learned this?” cried Guy Fawkes, in amazement.

“By the art that reveals all things,” answered Kelley.

“In proof that your thoughts are known to me,” observed Dee, “I will tell you the inquiry you would make before it is uttered. You would learn whether the enterprise on which you are engaged will succeed.”

“I would,” replied Fawkes.

“Yet more,” continued Dee. “I am aware of the nature of the plot, and could name to you all connected with it.”

“Your power is, indeed, wonderful,” rejoined Fawkes in an altered tone. “But will you give me the information I require?”

“Hum!” muttered Dee.

“I am too poor to purchase it,” proceeded Fawkes, “unless a relic I have brought from Spain has any value in your eyes.”

“Tush!” exclaimed Dee, angrily. “Do you suppose I am a common juggler, and practise my art for gain?”

“By no means, reverend sir,” said Fawkes. “But I would not willingly put you to trouble without evincing my gratitude.”

“Well, then,” replied Dee, “I will not refuse your request. And yet I would caution you to beware how you pry into the future. You may repent your rashness when it is too late.”

“I have no fear,” rejoined Fawkes. “Let me know the worst.”

“Enough,” answered Dee. “And now listen to me. That carcass having been placed in the ground without the holy rites of burial being duly performed, I have power over it. And, as the witch of Endor called up Samuel, as is recorded in Holy Writ, – as Erichtho raised up a corpse to reveal to Sextus Pompeius the event of the Pharsalian war, – as Elisha breathed life into the nostrils of the Shunamite's son, – as Alcestis was invoked by Hercules, – and as the dead maid was brought back to life by Apollonius Thyaneus, – so I, by certain powerful incantations, will allure the soul of the prophetess, for a short space, to its former tenement, and compel it to answer my questions. Dare you be present at this ceremony?”

“I dare,” replied Fawkes.

“Follow me, then,” said Dee. “You will need all your courage.”

Muttering a hasty prayer, and secretly crossing himself, Guy Fawkes strode after him towards the grave. By the Doctor's directions, he, with some reluctance, assisted Kelley to raise the corpse, and convey it to the charnel. Dee followed, bearing the lantern, and, on entering the building, closed and fastened the door.

The chamber in which Guy Fawkes found himself was in perfect keeping with the horrible ceremonial about to be performed. In one corner lay a mouldering heap of skulls, bones, and other fragments of mortality; in the other a pile of broken coffins, emptied of their tenants, and reared on end. But what chiefly attracted his attention, was a ghastly collection of human limbs, blackened with pitch, girded round with iron hoops, and hung, like meat in a shambles, against the wall. There were two heads, and, though the features were scarcely distinguishable, owing to the liquid in which they had been immersed, they still retained a terrific expression of agony. Seeing his attention directed to these revolting objects, Kelley informed him they were the quarters of the two priests who had recently been put to death, which had been left there previously to being placed on the church-gates. The implements, and some part of the attire used by the executioner in his butcherly office, were scattered about, and mixed with the tools of the sexton; while in the centre of the room stood a large wooden frame supported by trestles. On this frame, stained with blood and smeared with pitch, showing the purpose to which it had been recently put, the body was placed. This done, Doctor Dee set down the lantern beside it; and, as the light fell upon its livid features, sullied with earth, and exhibiting traces of decay, Guy Fawkes was so appalled by the sight that he half repented of what he had undertaken.

Noticing his irresolution, Doctor Dee said, “You may yet retire if you think proper.”

“No,” replied Fawkes, rousing himself; “I will go through with it.”

“It is well,” replied Dee. And he extinguished the light.

An awful silence now ensued, broken only by a low murmur from Doctor Dee, who appeared to be reciting an incantation. As he proceeded, his tones became louder, and his accents those of command. Suddenly, he paused, and seemed to await a response. But, as none was made, greatly to the disappointment of Guy Fawkes, whose curiosity, notwithstanding his fears, was raised to the highest pitch, he cried, “Blood is wanting to complete the charm.”

“If that is all, I will speedily supply the deficiency,” replied Guy Fawkes; and, drawing his rapier, he bared his left arm, and pricked it deeply with the point of the weapon.

“I bleed now,” he cried.

“Sprinkle the corpse with the ruddy current,” rejoined Doctor Dee.

“Your commands are obeyed,” replied Fawkes. “I have placed my hand on its breast, and the blood is flowing upon it.”

Upon this the Doctor began to mutter an incantation in a louder and more authoritative tone than before. Presently, Kelley added his voice, and they both joined in a sort of chorus, but in a jargon wholly unintelligible to Guy Fawkes.

All at once a blue flame appeared above their heads, and, slowly descending, settled upon the brow of the corpse, lighting up the sunken cavities of the eyes, and the discoloured and distorted features.

“The charm works,” shouted Doctor Dee.

“She moves! she moves!” exclaimed Guy Fawkes. “She is alive!”

“Take off your hand,” cried the Doctor, “or mischief may ensue.” And he again continued his incantation.

“Down on your knees!” he exclaimed, at length, in a terrible voice. “The spirit is at hand.”

There was a rushing sound, and a stream of dazzling lightning shot down upon the corpse, which emitted a hollow groan. In obedience to the Doctor's commands, Guy Fawkes had prostrated himself on the ground: but he kept his gaze steadily fixed on the body, which, to his infinite astonishment, slowly arose, until it stood erect upon the frame. There it remained perfectly motionless, with the arms close to the sides, and the habiliments torn and dishevelled. The blue light still retained its position upon the brow, and communicated a horrible glimmer to the features. The spectacle was so dreadful that Guy Fawkes would fain have averted his eyes, but he was unable to do so. Doctor Dee and his companion, meanwhile, continued their invocations, until, as it seemed to Fawkes, the lips of the corpse moved, and an awful voice exclaimed, “Why have you called me?”

“Daughter!” replied Doctor Dee, rising, “in life thou wert endowed with the gift of prophecy. In the grave, that which is to come must be revealed to thee. We would question thee.”

“Speak, and I will answer,” replied the corpse.

“Interrogate her, my son,” said Dee, addressing Fawkes, “and be brief, for the time is short. So long only as that flame burns have I power over her.”

“Spirit of Elizabeth Orton,” cried Guy Fawkes, “if indeed thou standest before me, and some demon hath not entered thy frame to delude me, – by all that is holy, and by every blessed saint, I adjure thee to tell me whether the scheme on which I am now engaged for the advantage of the Catholic Church will prosper?”

“Thou art mistaken, Guy Fawkes,” returned the corpse. “Thy scheme is not for the advantage of the Catholic Church.”

“I will not pause to inquire wherefore,” continued Fawkes. “But, grant that the means are violent and wrongful, will the end be successful?”

“The end will be death,” replied the corpse.

“To the tyrant – to the oppressors?” demanded Fawkes.

“To the conspirators,” was the answer.

“Ha!” ejaculated Fawkes.

“Proceed, if you have aught more to ask,” cried Dr. Dee. “The flame is expiring.”

“Shall we restore the fallen religion?” demanded Fawkes.

But before the words could be pronounced the light vanished, and a heavy sound was heard, as of the body falling on the frame.

“It is over,” said Doctor Dee.

“Can you not summon her again?” asked Fawkes, in a tone of deep disappointment. “I had other questions to ask.”

“Impossible,” replied the Doctor. “The spirit is fled, and will not be recalled. We must now commit the body to the earth. And this time it shall be more decently interred.”

“My curiosity is excited, – not satisfied,” said Guy Fawkes. “Would it were to occur again!”

“It is ever thus,” replied Doctor Dee. “We seek to know that which is interdicted, – and quench our thirst at a fountain that only inflames our curiosity the more. Be warned, my son. You are embarked on a perilous enterprise, and if you pursue it, it will lead you to certain destruction.”

“I cannot retreat,” rejoined Fawkes, “and would not, if I could. I am bound by an oath too terrible to be broken.”

“I will absolve you of your oath, my son,” said Dr. Dee, eagerly.

“You cannot, reverend sir,” replied Fawkes. “By no sophistry could I clear my conscience of the ties imposed upon it. I have sworn never to desist from the execution of this scheme, unless those engaged in it shall give me leave. Nay, so resolved am I, that if I stood alone I would go on.”

As he spoke, a deep groan issued from the corpse.

“You are again warned, my son,” said Dee.

“Come forth,” said Guy Fawkes, rushing towards the door, and throwing it open. “This place stifles me.”

The night has already been described as bright and beautiful. Before him stood the Collegiate Church bathed in moonlight. He gazed abstractedly at this venerable structure for a few moments, and then returned to the charnel, where he found Doctor Dee and Kelley employed in placing the body of the prophetess in a coffin, which they had taken from a pile in the corner. He immediately proffered his assistance, and in a short space the task was completed. The coffin was then borne towards the grave, at the edge of which it was laid while the burial-service was recited by Doctor Dee. This ended, it was lowered into its shallow resting-place, and speedily covered with earth.

When all was ready for their departure, the Doctor turned to Fawkes, and, bidding him farewell, observed,

“If you are wise, my son, you will profit by the awful warning you have this night received.”

“Before we part, reverend sir,” replied Fawkes, “I would ask if you know of other means whereby an insight may be obtained into the future?”

“Many, my son,” replied Dee. “I have a magic glass, in which, with due preparation, you may behold exact representations of coming events. I am now returning to the College, and if you will accompany me, I will show it to you.”

The offer was eagerly accepted, and the party quitted the churchyard.