"Just as you will. But can you lodge this horse?"
"Yes. Come this way," was the hearty answer. Laying a hand on the queer bridle, but saying nothing, he led the horse to the other side of the hut, where he placed him in a snug stable and gave the tired creature a plentiful supply of food and water.
Before long the two men were sitting to a meal which Engel set before them, so appetising that in spite of their anxiety they ate with keen relish, the ranger plying them with food till they could eat no more.
"Now for this story—the reason why two men should be out in the forest at this time o' night," the ranger said, when he had cleared the table.
Herman gazed about him before he answered. He got up from his stool and walked round the hut, looking into the corners, and opening an inner door to assure himself that no others but themselves were there.
"Nobody's here, Herman," said Otto Engel, who was watching his movements, and guessed his purpose. "I live here all alone. I've neither wife nor child, more's the pity!" he added sadly. "Those creatures from the Holy House in your city came out here one day, and took my wife. And the little one pined away, and her mother never came back."
The big man clenched his fist, and brought it down with a resounding blow on the table, so that the flagon, which held the Rhenish wine, and the horn cups danced. His face flushed, not so much with anger and hate—though both were there—but with grief and the yearning for revenge if an opportunity ever came his way. Herman thought, as he gazed at him, that if any of those Familiars of the Inquisition ventured into his hut, though he were alone, and they were two or more, they would never leave the place alive.
"What brings you here, Herman?" Engel asked, more quietly, when the tempestuous passion had gone; but his hand trembled as the fist, still clenched, rested on the table, and his face twitched with emotion.
"William Tyndale is the cause of our being here to-night," Herman said, returning to his stool again, satisfied now that he could speak as freely as he pleased.
"Tyndale?" cried Engel, his face full of surprise. "Do you mean the Englishman?"