Cuthbert had not forgotten Robert Catesby, or the priest to whom he always felt he owed his life. If any plot were in hand at this juncture, both these men were most certainly concerned in it. And at the lone house at Lambeth he could surely get speech of Catesby, or learn where he was to be found; and it seemed to Cuthbert that he could not sleep another night until he had set at rest the doubts and fears crowding his mind. Did he go with a view of warning Catesby that the plot was discovered--that the dark secret was out? He himself scarcely knew. He was not at all sure that he believed himself in the hideous magnitude of the contemplated deed as Esther had described it. Remembering as he did all he had heard and seen, he could not doubt that some secret plot was afoot, but he thought it highly probable that the scope and purpose of it had been misunderstood; and there was certainly this feeling in his mind, that a timely word of warning to those concerned might serve to avert a terrible doom from any who might lie already under suspicion. He had not been able to gain speech with Father Urban; for although he was convinced the priest was in hiding within the house of the Coles, both father and son resolutely denied this, and it seemed of late as though they distrusted Cuthbert himself, and desired no more of his company. Martin Holt and honest Jacob Dyson had warned him to be cautious in his dealings with any of the Romish persuasion, and Cuthbert had been content to take this advice. But this last afternoon before the great day so long anticipated might surely be put to some good purpose, and the thought that those men in that Lambeth house might be unwittingly remaining to be caught in a trap impelled Cuthbert to strive to have speech with Master Robert Catesby and put him on his guard, if he could not persuade him to abandon whatever rash scheme he had in his head. Sympathy with the persecuted went some small way in blinding Cuthbert's eyes to the terrible nature of the purposed crime. Moreover, he thought it like enough that Esther had heard a grossly exaggerated account of what was determined. Still, what she had heard others might have heard, and nothing was too bad to find credit with those who planned and desired the ruin of all who held views different from their own. These and similar thoughts had been occupying Cuthbert's mind as he bent to his oars and propelled his light wherry upstream towards the lonely house. The tide was running out, and rowing was hard work; but he was making progress steadily, and had no thought of any personal peril until the sound of voices through the fog broke upon his ear, and he realized that he himself was an object of pursuit.