"Gone?"
Herman's face was the picture of astonishment.
"Do you mean to tell me that Tyndale managed to dupe Schouts, of all men in the world?" he cried.
"I do. And since I have no love either for the robber lord, who is a rascal, or the Deacon," said the chief warden, whispering behind his hand, "I'm glad the poor man got away. I hope he'll get clear out of the country and spoil the plans of the Inquisitor."
Herman looked at the man to judge how far he seemed sincere, but it was impossible to doubt him. So had he seen others look when Cochlaeus was spoken of—a man hated of all men for his work's sake, to say nothing of his well-known mercilessness.
Herman moved on. He did not know, as he passed away from the gate, that the chief warden looked after him commiseratingly, and shrugged his shoulders.
"There's trouble in store for that poor fellow," he said to the men around.
At heart Herman was relieved to find that no whisper had got abroad that his home had given shelter to the man whom Cochlaeus was searching for. At first he walked along the street with a free step and a light heart, for he would soon see Margaret, and explain to her why he had been away so long. And to-morrow was the day of their wedding! He was home in time! He whistled gaily at the thought.
But for some unaccountable reason a sense of dread came to him. The gaiety passed, and the dread grew with every step onward, before he had gone far. The thought came that Margaret would blame him for neglect, leaving her for so many days without a word, and her wedding day so near! And yet he had sent her a message by a man named Jermyn, who knew the circumstances, since he worked at the windmill, telling her he would be home in good time for their marriage, but he must make sure that William Tyndale was safe in hiding, and beyond discovery. But his content, while on the road, had been rudely shaken, for when he came to a lonely spot on the way, he saw a man lying, beaten, and bruised, and bleeding by the wayside, and it was Jermyn, his messenger, scarce able to speak.
When he had lodged the poor fellow at an inn, and left money to cover his nursing, he had come on swiftly, anxious to set the misfortune right.