"We are free from our pursuers." "There is one left," she rejoined, casting a look backwards.
"It is the pursuivant," returned Guy Fawkes, sternly.

"He is within shot," he added, drawing his petronel.
"Oh, no--no!--in pity spare him!" cried Viviana.

"Too many lives have been sacrificed already." "He is the cause of all the mischief," answered Guy Fawkes, unwillingly replacing the petronel in his belt, "and may live to injure you and your father." "I will hope not," rejoined Viviana; "but, spare him!--oh, spare him!" "Be it as you please," replied Guy Fawkes.

"The marsh, I trust, will not be so merciful." With this, they slowly resumed their progress.

On hearing their departure, the pursuivant renewed his cries in a more piteous tone than ever; but, in spite of the entreaties of Viviana, nothing could induce her companions to lend him assistance.
For some time they proceeded in silence, and without accident.