"Betray him?" his mother cried, looking up, her face, tear-wet though it was, almost indignant at the bare suggestion. "God helping us, never, my son! God sent him here for some wise purpose, and we must do our solemn best, my boy, to save him. He's doing God's work, although I wot not what it is. But what did he say yesterday, when I expostulated with him about working so strenuously? 'Wist ye not, mistress, that I must be about my Father's business? I must—I can do no other!—I must work the work of Him that sent me!' I can't forget that, Herman."
"Then you will never give him up? Oh, I am so glad," exclaimed Margaret, leaning forward and laying her own soft hand on the other woman's.
"Give him up? God do so to me, and more, if I betray the saintly man!" the widow said, in tones that left no doubt.
It was growing late, and Margaret got up to go, knowing that they would be anxious at home. Herman stood up to go with her, and they went into the passage. When they walked softly past the door of the front room where Master Tyndale worked it was slightly ajar, and a streak of light fell across the floor of the passage and on the wall. They saw him seated at the table, the candle light shining on his face, and his elbows on the table, and near by a pile of manuscript. His hands were clasped, and his eyes closed. He was speaking, and the low-spoken words came to them plainly.
"Dear Lord, did I not solemnly vow, long years ago, that if my life were long enough, I would cause the boy who driveth the plough to know the Scriptures?"
There was a pause in the prayer, and they watched his face, which for a moment he covered with his hands; but he lifted it again, since the prayer was not yet ended. There was more to hear, and this time the words came even more earnestly.
"O God, the task set for me is great. The burden is almost too heavy for me! And I am compassed about with dangers. I tremble lest something should come to bring ruin to my endeavours. Yet, Lord, it is not the thought of threatening death that troubles me. My fear is, lest my enemies should compass my destruction before I have done my work, and placed the Word of God within the reach of the people at home. Spare me until I have fulfilled my task, and then I will say, 'Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace.'"
They watched him. They were unable to tear themselves away. It was something to hear this holy man pleading with God, asking for nothing for himself, but only for time to complete his work, and ready after that to live or die, as God would say it should be.
Tyndale unclasped his hands and, taking up his pen, began to write as a man would whose time for work was limited, and whose salvation depended on the completion of the task set for him.
Herman and Margaret went along the passage in silence, almost in stealth, and, closing the street door after them softly, they hurried towards the girl's home in haste. When they stopped at her father's door, Margaret gripped her lover's arm tightly.