Heinrich laughed and skipped about in childish glee.
"Come back and I will show you!" he exclaimed. "Besides, 'tis well not to waste time," he added, changing suddenly to seriousness.
Herman crawled back, and was near to the edge to drop on the floor when Heinrich stopped him.
"See!" he said, taking one of the bars; and, scraping away some of the mortar which was powdered only, but carefully catching every grain in his cap so that none should be wasted and fall to the floor, he drove the bar far into a hitherto unseen hole so that it stayed firm in the wall. He took the rope, and, making a strong loop at one end, he passed it over this, and they understood.
The last that came could lower himself by sliding down the rope, whereas the others could be let down safely with a loop and a sliding knot about their body.
"Who will go first?" asked Heinrich.
"Someone who can help the women when their turn comes," suggested the forester. "Suppose you go first, Herman. Then Mistress Margaret, and then her mother, and her father to follow. After that, either Heinrich or myself."
The noose went round Herman's body, under his arms, and, not to lay any strain on the others, he threw out the whole of the rope that was at liberty, and suffered himself to go down, hand under hand, until his feet touched the ground below. He loosened the rope, and when it was drawn back, Margaret came to the window, and he dimly saw her sitting in the loop and clinging to the rope while they were lowering her gently, but swaying in the furious wind. Before many moments she was in his arms, and he covered her face with kisses.
"God is going to send us into safety," she answered, throwing her arms about his neck and clinging to him in the darkness until it was time to render service to her mother, whose turn was next.
The last to come was Heinrich, who had gone down that rope so many times, and they gathered about him to bless and thank him for what he had done.