"I was in the cavern and saw them take you away. They carried you because you were senseless, so I heard one of the Familiars say. I tried to stop them, thinking I might get you out of their hands, and I lay in their way across the dark path. Not seeing me, they stumbled over me and fell. Oh, how they cursed me! "I did not do that again, for I thought that another fall would hurt you, lame you, perhaps; but I followed to see where they put you, but when once they carried you through their private door I could discover no more, for they locked me out. But I meant to find out. I have been trying to do so all these days and nights. I have gone from window to window, and now, God be praised! I have found you! Let me kiss your hand--that beautiful hand that never did me anything but kindness!" He bent his lips to her fingers and kissed them passionately. "Why have you come, Heinrich? Have you brought me a message from anyone?" Margaret asked, hoping that he would mention Herman's name. "No. I have not left this accursed house, save to run home for something to eat and drink, and I have brought this." He drew something out of his bosom, and laid its rough surface on Margaret's soft hand. "A file!" she exclaimed, thrilled with a hope that came when she realised what it meant. "Yes; I am going to file away these bars and get you out of that den. I will take you where they will never find you. Move your hand, lest I may hurt you." Heinrich began to work at the bars like one possessed, and Margaret, standing near, could hear how the file bit into the iron. In the stillness of the night the sound was alarmingly loud to her, and she was afraid that someone would hear and come to ask the meaning of it. Now and again Heinrich paused to look around, to know whether he was seen, or anyone approached. Suddenly he set the file on the sill. "The City Guard! Go on filing quietly. I'll come back." He dropped away from the window, and Margaret was alone again. Using the file, she worked at the bar until her arms ached; but what mattered that? Was not liberty to come in payment for the toil? But Heinrich was so long away that she was afraid he had gone for good, and perhaps she would not escape at all. He returned, however, when the lane was clear and silent again, and, after working at each bar in succession, he exclaimed in exultation when his strong hand tore away the last one, and the space was open. "Can you climb up on your side?" he asked, thrusting his head and shoulders through the opening and looking down into the darkness. "I think so," Margaret said doubtfully, for the window was high from the floor. "But you must give me your hand." Her hands came up to him out of the darkness. "Wait," the man whispered. "I will come down and give you a lift up. When you are where I am, you can drop down into the lane."