"You may destroy yourself, but not your associates." "True--true," replied Fawkes, distractedly,--"I _do_ remember it.

I am sold to perdition." "Anger not Heaven by these idle lamentations,--and at a time, too, when all is so prosperous," rejoined Catesby.
"What!" cried Fawkes, fiercely, "would you have me calm, when she who called me father, and was dear to me as a child, is taken from me by these remorseless butchers,--subjected to their terrible examinations,--plunged in a dismal dungeon,--and stretched upon the rack,--and all for me--for me! I shall go mad if I think upon it!" "You must _not_ think upon it," returned Catesby,--"at least, not here.
We shall be observed.

Let us return to the house; and perhaps--though I scarcely dare indulge the hope--some plan may be devised for her liberation." With this, he dragged Fawkes, who was almost frenzied with anguish, forcibly along, and they returned to the house.
Nothing more was said that night.

Catesby judged it prudent to let the first violence of his friend's emotion expend itself before he attempted to soothe him; and when he communicated the sad event to Garnet, the latter strongly approved the plan.

Garnet was greatly distressed at the intelligence, and his affliction was shared by the other conspirators.
No fears were entertained by any of them that Viviana would reveal aught of the plot, but this circumstance only added to their regrets.
"I will stake my life for her constancy," said Catesby.
"And so will I," returned Garnet.