When he was gone, Catesby wiped the spittle from my cheek for which I was grateful. For some time he sat in a chair at the table and dozed while I drifted in and out of a fitful sleep. When I slept I dreamed of the most horrible pain and death. When I was awake, I was in a quandary, half the time wishing Will would rescue me, and the other half wishing Fawkes would return and get it over with because the waiting was torture.
But Will wasn’t coming. Now I recalled the conversation at the chophouse, I hadn’t told him where the gunpowder was stashed. He likely thought it at Whyniard’s house and that I was meeting Catesby there.
After a long time, Catesby left the house without speaking. I tried again, as I had several times throughout the night when all the men were in the cellar or at the
