She wrenched the dagger from the man's hand, and held it out for the Captain to see. Her eyes were on a picture through which the fellow had driven his weapon, a picture which had been her dead husband's handiwork in his hours of leisure.
"Is that how you come to an honest woman's house?" she cried, swinging round to face the astonished soldier, her eyes flashing, and her bosom heaving while she thought of this wilful damage done, when a hand put out to remove the picture would have prevented its ruin. "I will go to the Burgomaster even now!" she exclaimed, taking down a heavy cloak from a nail in the corner, and throwing it about her shoulders, with the dagger still in her hand while she began to tie the cord at her throat.
The Captain had turned to look at her, the point of his sword held downwards. He saw the damage that was done, and realised the reasonableness of the woman's resentment.
"You were over-rough," he exclaimed, looking at the picture. "But, on the other hand, since we were, told that Master Tyndale would be found here we must needs miss nothing in our attempt to discover his whereabouts."
"His whereabouts?" cried Herman's mother, usually so gentle, rarely other than placid, but now roused by the roughness shown towards what to her had such holy associations. "Find the man if he is here; but neither you nor that fellow there shall damage what is precious to me, since it was my dead husband's work, finished but three days before he died!"
She sat on the bed, and, burying her face in her hands, wept, and the two men could do no other than look on her in concern as her sobs shook her. Margaret stepped forward like Herman, and sought to comfort her, but the girl's face went hot when she heard the paper in her bosom crinkle as she put her arms about the weeping woman.
The men stole away into the other room, carrying the lamp with them, leaving the others in the darkness.
"Is there any danger, Herman?" Margaret asked, drawing her face away from his mother's, which was wet with tears.
"Not unless they find Tyndale, and they won't do that," said Herman confidently.
Again they heard the sound of shifting furniture, the slam of a cupboard door, the tapping of walls, but less roughly; and, after a while, the soldiers stood in the doorway.