"We should have been glad to have drawn any, of what religion soever, unto us," he said: "we meant to have made use of all the discontented people of England." But he would not allow, even to the last, that any communication had actually been made. In his fourth examination Fawkes gave the names of those who had been "made privy afterwards," but he still refused to reveal those of the original traitors. He was accordingly put to the torture. Gentle or ungentle, this worked its office: and on the ninth of November, after half-an-hour on the rack, Fawkes recounted the names of all his accomplices. He made also an admission which proved of considerable importance--he mentioned a house in Enfield Chase, "where Walley [Garnet] doth lie." Every examination is signed by the prisoner. To the first he signs "Guido Faukes" in a free, elegant Italian hand, the hand of an educated man. But it is pitiful to see the few faint strokes which sign the fifth, even the "Guido" being left unfinished. He is supposed to have fainted before the word could be written. The subsequent reports are fully signed, and in a firmer hand; but the old free elegant signature never comes again. That night an unheard-of event occurred at the White Bear. Hans Floriszoon was two hours late in coming home. "My lad!" said Edith, meeting him in the hall, "we feared some ill had befallen thee." "It hath not befallen _me_, Mrs Edith," was the answer; "and may God avert it from us all! But these men that Aubrey was wont to visit--Mr Catesby, Mr Winter, and the rest--are now confessed by the caitiff in the Tower to have an hand in the plot." "Aubrey?" The word was only just breathed from Edith's lips. "I went thither at once, and spake with Aubrey, whom I found to have heard nought, and to be very sore troubled touching Mr Winter, whose friendship I can see hath been right dear unto him. I besought him to lie very close,--not to come forth at all, and if he would communicate with us these next few days, to send a messenger to me at Mr Leigh's, and not here, for it seemed to me there was need of caution. After a time, if all blow over, there may be less need. Will you tell my Lady Lettice, or no?" "Dear Hans, thou art ever thoughtful and good. Thou hast done very well. But I think my mother must be told. Better softly now, than roughly after--as it may be if it be let alone." Lady Louvaine sat silent for a few minutes after that gentle communication had been made. Then she said-- "`The floods lift up themselves, and rage mightily: but yet the Lord, who dwelleth on high, is mightier.' 'Tis strange that it should be so much harder to trust Him with the body than with the soul! O father, keep my boy from evil!--what is evil, Thou knowest: `undertake for us!'"