[Frontispiece: HERMAN CARRYING TYNDALE TOWARDS THE RIVER BANK. (_See page_ 7.)] THE CALL OF THE NIGHT RIDER A STORY OF THE DAYS OF WILLIAM TYNDALE BY ALBERT LEE AUTHOR OF "THE KEY OF THE HOLY HOUSE" "THE KING'S TREACHERY" "THE FROWN OF MAJESTY" "A THIEF IN THE NIGHT" "THE EARL'S SIGNATURE" ETC. ETC. ILLUSTRATED BY JOHN F. CAMPBELL MORGAN & SCOTT LTD. 12, PATERNOSTER BUILDINGS LONDON ENGLAND CONTENTS CHAP. I. THE MAN IN THE MEADOW II. THE MAN ON THE STAIRS III. THE PICTURE IN THE FIRE IV. THE COMING OF THE GUARD V. THE MAN IN THE ARCHWAY VI. THE SEARCH VII. THE PASSAGE VIII. THE PRINTER'S WORKSHOP IX. THE MAN BY THE RIVER X. ROYE AND THE INQUISITORS XI. ALONE IN THE CAVERN XII. THE NIGHT RIDE XIII. THE PRISONER XIV. THE FOREST RANGER XV. A DARING DECISION XVI. WITHIN THE CASTLE XVII. THE MAN IN THE DUNGEON XVIII. IN THE CELL XIX. SPOILING THE EGYPTIANS XX. THE FLIGHT FROM THE HOLY HOUSE XXI. THE MILL IN THE FOREST XXII. HERMAN'S RETURN XXIII. IN THE LION'S MOUTH XXIV. THE GREAT ALTERNATIVE XXV. THE COMING OF THE FORESTER XXVI. THE PURCHASE OF THE VAULT XXVII. THE HOUSE ON THE WALL XXVIII. THE NIGHT RIDE IN THE FOREST XXIX. THE NIGHT RIDER'S CALL XXX. THE ELEVENTH HOUR ILLUSTRATIONS HERMAN CARRYING TYNDALE TOWARDS THE RIVER BANK ...... _Frontispiece_ MARGARET LEADING THE WAY THROUGH THE CAVERN (missing from source book) COCHLAEUS AND THE SOLDIERS SEARCHING THE PRINTER'S WORKSHOP "THE FAMILIAR FELL LIKE A LOG ON THE STONES AT MY FEET" "HERMAN DUG IN HIS HEELS, AND THE HORSE GALLOPED PAST" "MY LORD, THERE IS A SHIP COMING ROUND THE BEND!" THE MAN CRIED BREATHLESSLY SHE SAW A MAN'S FINGERS CLOSING ROUND THE BARS "HALT!" CAME THE CRY ON THE NIGHT AIR THE CALL OF THE NIGHT RIDER CHAPTER I THE MAN IN THE MEADOW As she walked across the meadow, carrying a basket in one hand, and swinging a a dainty blue hood in the other, Margaret Byrckmann made a picture that was pleasing to behold. She looked up as she moved along, but her eyes went down again before the dazzling sun which was setting in a blaze of red splendour, silhouetting the battlemented walls of the city. She gave this evening beauty scanty attention, for her dark eyes were watching the meadow. Then a cry of pleasure broke from her lips, and she hastened forward; but before she had gone far her face filled with disappointment, and she stopped abruptly. "I thought it was Herman!" she exclaimed, almost petulantly. She watched a man who was walking wearily. He looked dusty and wayworn, and the movement on the beaten path seemed to be toilsome and painful. She thought he must have travelled far, for he carried a heavy-looking wallet on his back, and the staff in his hand was used as though it was real labour to go forward.