He stood up and began to pack his papers, the precious sheets on which he had spent his fine scholarship with such unremitting patience and splendid zeal. Apparently he did not realise the futility of it, as the others round him did. How could he think to get away from the city now that Cochlaeus had set the hunters on the move? It seemed to Margaret and the others, while they watched in silence, that William Tyndale was like a rat in a trap; not safe behind the iron bars, but certain to be routed out and snapped at by the sharp teeth of the dog the moment he left the cage.
Their minds were active as to the possibilities. Suppose Tyndale ventured into the streets and made his way towards the quay, would he not meet someone who would challenge him, since it was posted up all through Cologne that a heavy price was on his head? Heavy if he were brought in dead; heavier still if alive, so that he should be dealt with by the tormentors. If he got as far as the ramparts would he be likely to find the sentry asleep? The shuffling gait of the scholar, so Margaret thought, would betray him. While he moved he would run the gauntlet of a dozen who would know him for a stranger, dark though it would be in the stormy night. Even on the quay, were he to get so far, who could suppose that he could slip on board any of the river-craft unseen? Captain Berndorf and his men had marched away from the house in that direction, and were possibly searching the ships.
"You cannot go to-night, Master Tyndale," said Herman presently. "Lie here in peace, and be content where you are safe, where no one could suspect your presence; and I will watch for an opportunity."
The younger man spoke with an assurance he did not feel. Already he looked on his protégé as a man within the toils—himself scarcely less so. But why display any doubt when a way, in God's mercy, might open?
Tyndale realised the reasonableness of Herman's words, and, desisting from his eager task, he sat at the table, drawing away from the others the printed sheets which Margaret had saved from the eyes of the soldiers. He read some portion of them aloud while the others sat and listened. Then came the kneeling moments, when he committed himself and his companions to the Almighty hands. Still more urgent was his entreaty that he might be spared to complete his task of making God's Word ready for the multitude to read.
When the prayer was ended and the little company stood again, Margaret wondered at Herman's face. His eyes were bright. His face expectant. Going to the table, he took the lamp, and was about to walk away; but he paused.
"Master Tyndale, while you were praying," he exclaimed, "something came to my mind, and now I feel sure that God will answer that petition of yours."
They looked at him in wonder.
"What do you mean, my son?" asked Tyndale.
"That God may show us a way out of the city, which will spell safety for you. Margaret, come with me. Mother, stay with Master Tyndale."