The horse galloped on for three or four miles more, and then the moon was out again, and made the river look like a broad ribbon of silver winding in and out amid the forests and the low-lying meadows.
A shout of gladness came when Herman saw a great black object on the water, which, as he drew nearer, proved to be a ship beating up the stream, her dark sails bellying in the wind. Was it the Marburg?
He lost sight of her presently, for a forest came in between. He slackened the pace and rode into the thicket, able to see the way because of the clear shining of the moon, so that he took the zigzag path, moving round the clumps of brushwood, avoiding the hollows, and going carefully where the straggling roots and heavy undergrowth made any progress treacherous.
He had at last to dismount and lead the horse, feeling his way almost in places, going at times at little more than a snail's pace, the horse snorting and breathing heavily with his long run.
Then the forest ended.
Standing still to gaze around ere he ventured into the broad moonlight, because he heard voices and the jingle of steel, Herman saw a broad sweep of grass which stretched from the river up a steep slope, until it came to the spot where this cul-de-sac of green terminated in the closing up of the forest. A great castle was standing there, grey and forbidding in the moonlight. On the other side of the broad grass incline was dense forest again, and Herman meant to cross to it. But on this wide strip of open grass soldiers were moving towards the river swiftly, their swords and steel breastplates gleaming in the moonlight.
Herman dropped back, for the presence of the fighting men boded evil to any whom they saw who did not belong to the lord of this domain. Many a castle on this river was the hold of a robber chieftain who preyed on the travellers on land or water, demanding tribute and often holding his prisoners to ransom.
Herman took his tired horse back into the darkness of the forest, and, fastening him in a hollow where he could not be seen, returned to the slope again, to watch the glade and see when it would be safe to move to the other side.
For a time he could see nothing of what was happening on the river, but he was full of apprehension when he thought that the soldiers were bent on piracy. By this time the Marburg must have passed the landing-stage of the castle, and in that case would be safe, unless—and there he halted in his hope, and went cold with fear. Suppose that men had been placed on the watch, and, seeing the Marburg labouring up the river against the stream, had gone out in a boat to stop her, on the pretence of levying tribute, while a messenger raced up the slope to the robber stronghold to bring down the lord with his fighting men!
The consequences were too well known to anyone who lived within sight of the river, and this particular castle was often spoken of—was common talk, indeed, in the city. The ship would be gone through and robbed, if the captain and the crew were not armed and ready to make a fight for it. And William Tyndale, known, perhaps, would be carried to the castle, to be dealt with just as the wine-drinking and blasphemous master of the castle might choose.