The sun had been up for some time before any of the sleepers began to stir, and when Otto Engel stretched himself and yawned, and, doing so, awoke the others, he had no sense of shame for being a laggard with the day so far run on. It was his custom to sleep away so many of the hours of daylight, for he was very much of what he called himself—a night-bird, who must needs walk about his business while the world was sleeping. That night wandering was a part of his duty as ranger of the forest.
"I'll get you some breakfast," was his first word, when Herman sat up and stared around, wondering where he was; and before long the three men and the dog were eating what for two of them was a late morning meal.
"I think I'll find my way home," said Herman, who was depressed and ate but sparingly. Roye, too, sat playing absent-mindedly with his bread.
"Nay, you must stay here to-day, if anything is to be done to help William Tyndale," the ranger cried, tossing down his knife and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, while he shifted back his stool to cross his knee.
"How can we help Master Tyndale?" Roye asked gloomily.
"I'll tell you before the day is gone; but the thing wants a deal of consideration. If you care to stay, you are more than welcome, and, what is more to the point, your assistance will be valuable. Whatever I may decide, I won't be able to do anything single-handed. I know that much, so that William Tyndale's largely in your hands."
Herman watched the stalwart forester.
"What do you think is possible?" he asked.
"I don't know any more than the man in the moon, as people say. I shall have to think the thing out. My real idea is to get William Tyndale out of the hands of Schouts, if you must know, and cheat Cochlaeus as well. So now you know.
"Lie by, and don't show yourselves," he added, looking to his belt to see that he had his weapons there.