He went on his knees, smiling when he saw Margaret's wide-open eyes. Taking the knife from his belt, he drove the blade deeply into one of the boards, and using it as a handle moved the board aside. He moved the next with his hand, a third, and another also. Asking for a lamp, he held it over an open space, and looking into the blackness Margaret exclaimed in surprise.
At her feet were some rough, wooden steps, leading into what seemed to her a deep well, the bottom of which was not visible. Herman put a foot on the topmost step, and descended a little space, when he asked for the lamp.
"Come with me," he said, as she handed it to him, and Margaret followed without hesitation. Reaching the bottom, step, she found herself in a chamber about ten feet long, six feet wide, or thereabouts, and rather more in height. At the farther corner was a spiral staircase, and when Herman went down with the lamp, and she followed, she came to another room.
Herman saw her bewildered looks, and explained.
"My father thought it was a stronghold for heretics when, a century ago, persecution was keener even than now. There were tokens of it in abundance; but never mind that at present. I'm going to let you into the secret of Master Tyndale's strange disappearance."
He cried, but not loudly, and to his call there was a hollow return of the sound.
"Master Tyndale!" he cried again.
"Who is it?" was the response.
"It is I. Herman Bengel."