"Heinrich, take Master and Mistress Byrckmann to their daughter, and wait till I return," said Herman, when he stood at the stable door with Margaret's father and mother. "I am going to tell my mother what we think of doing, unless your plan will let you come with me to my mother's house, where we can use that secret way."
"Nay, 'twill not do," said Heinrich hastily. "We might walk straight into the arms of those whom we want to avoid. No, my way is best."
He spoke so certainly that Herman had no doubt, since he had often proved the simple one's resourcefulness.
"You will wait for me?" he asked.
"I will. We cannot start for an hour or two," was the ready answer; and Herman turned away, and ran along the streets swiftly, not to lose time.
He found his mother waiting in great anxiety, wondering where he was and what had detained him so long, and he told her in the fewest words of the plan for flight.
While he was busy, putting on fresh clothing and making ready for his journey, a loud knock on the street door startled them both. Herman's mother answered the summons, and, opening the door, stared at a man who stood at the bottom step with the rain streaming from his clothes.
"Your business—what is it?" she asked, with what courage she could muster, for this stranger's appearance at such a juncture shook her nerve, and she imagined that he had come to spy out something.
"I want your son, if you be his mother!" the man exclaimed, loudly enough for any who might be passing; but he added in a whisper, "Tell him I am Otto Engel, and I have news for him."
"Come in," she answered carelessly, for the benefit of a man who was passing, and who, for aught she knew, might be a spy. She drew back to make room for the big man to enter the narrow passage.