Waiting for the moment when he could follow, Herman kept his gaze fixed on the distant end where there was a possible corner which the boy would turn at any moment. The passage was still empty, although the sound of stamping feet grew plainer, rattling to the rhythm of the song. The relief was intense, to know that William Tyndale was carried into the secret way without being seen. It was now his own turn to enter, and it must be at once.
He stepped into the blackness, careful as to where he placed his feet, and began to draw the door after him. At that moment Roye came near to him with his lantern, and in the swift glance he took along the passage, Herman saw that a sharp line of light from the lantern fell across the floor of the passage, and on the opposite wall. At that same moment the boy turned the corner and came into view. He must have seen the line of light, for he halted suddenly, and the song gave place to an exclamation of wonder and half of alarm. In his own keen thought Herman pictured the boy gazing along the passage with startled eyes; but he did not wait to see what happened. The opening in the wall closed up with a soft thud, and as he looked, Herman saw that the latch had caught, and the entrance was securely blocked.
How much had the boy seen? Herman asked himself, wiping the dampness from his forehead, for this narrow escape had startled him. Surely, only the flash of the line of light, for he had entered so speedily, urged on by the dread of discovery.
"Where are the others, Roye?" he asked, only seeing him, as he turned his back on the door.
"We're all right," said Engel, and Herman saw him close by in the passage, and, having set his burden gently on the floor, he was wiping his face and neck with his cap. "Did anyone see you?"
"No. The boy swung round the corner into the passage, a long way off, but he could not have seen more than the flash of this lantern across the floor just as I had stepped in and was pulling the door into its place."
Herman said it bravely, but this experience had tried him greatly, and now he stood with his back against the wall, in something like helplessness, and his knees were trembling, while he felt his lips quivering.
They turned their attention to Tyndale, and going on their knees beside him they sought to discover how much he was in need of help, and what likelihood there was of getting him away. The man for whom they had dared so greatly sat on the rocky floor, fettered heavily, his back set against the wall of rock, and his head bowed so that his chin rested on his bosom. But his thin hand was lifted to take theirs, while he thanked them for their splendid service.
Herman held him by the hand, while all three watched him anxiously. In that uncertain light he looked to them like a dying man, and he seemed to guess their thoughts.
"I am very weak and ill, Herman," he said quietly; "but you came in time. I shall not die, but live, for God has brought me out of the depths to give me the opportunity to complete His work."