Those who hid behind the curtain heard the tramp of men, and before long they came by in haste. They were taking the shortest cuts to be in time to form up and receive the commands from their lord, who was bawling out his orders in the courtyard, Some, to save time, rushed through the room in which Cochlaeus stood—in at one door and out at that where Herman and the forester were hiding. They were buckling on their swords as they went, and, careless of the Churchman's dignity, brushed past him, almost overturning him in their haste. Cochlaeus' jaw dropped when the last to pass through the chamber was a priest, who did not look his way, but hurried on with noisy cries and oaths and drunken laughter.
Before long the clatter of men's feet was heard outside, and a horse's hoofs beat on the stones, then thundered on the drawbridge when it was lowered. Herman and his companion knew what it meant, for the robber lord and his retainers were on the way to another daring act of piracy.
"God be praised!" exclaimed Engel, in a low tone. "'Tis our opportunity. That prayer in my hut is going to be answered," he whispered, but even then the voice thrilled with exultation.
Gripping Herman by the arm, he drew him from the curtains, and hurried with him down the passage they had traversed before, to the open door of the banqueting-hall. There they paused to look in cautiously, to discover whether it was empty. No one was there, and, taking the risks, they went through it at a run and out by the door at the other end.
When they passed the kitchens they, too, were empty. Not a sound was heard, save what was distant, for the bell was no longer clanging, and every man within the castle, throwing aside his task, whatever its nature, was gone, either to take his stand on guard at the drawbridge or above the gate, or to descend the slope to the river, to deal with the doomed vessel that had been daring enough to venture past in the dark night hours. She was going to pay the price of her mad audacity, and the robber lord was there to extort it to the last penny.
Going along the deserted corridor, Herman and the ranger came to some steps, down which they went swiftly after Engel had snatched at one of the few lamps that were hanging on the wall. The steps were black as night, but with the lamp's aid now they went down and down, until they came to a sudden stop at a blank wall. But here they saw that on the left were other steps, breaking off at right angles, and descending they came to a door studded with nails and sheeted with iron, crossed with bolts and bars.
"'Tis here," whispered Engel. "And here's the key, just as Sprenkel said."
A great key hung on a nail near by the door, and the ranger, taking it down, thrust it into the lock. When he twisted it, the bolt went back with a scream which seemed dangerously loud in the quietness of the castle depths. Herman, meanwhile, was busy, for they both knew well how precious the moments were, and what they were to do they must do quickly. He pulled back the bolts and dropped the bars, and, thus free to move, the door was thrust open into darkness.
"Are you there, Master Tyndale?" Herman whispered, stepping down into the dungeon.
"I am here. Who are you?"