It was no time to see what had come to these who sought to overwhelm him. He knew that if he lingered he might have still greater odds to contend with, and escape would be impossible. The way to the door was clear, and he hurried to it, and, opening it, stood in the passage. Then the thought came to elude pursuit, supposing either of these two minions of the Holy House should recover and give the alarm. He closed the door swiftly, but softly. He twisted the key in the lock, and drew it away; and, carrying it in his hand, he strode to the door where, not long before, he had entered from the garden. Out in the open he would be safer than within the house itself, and, hidden somewhere in the shadows among the dense bushes, he might think of some plan to scale the walls and get away. With the key still in his hand, he went to the tree where he had stood before to make his observations; and while he was trying to solve the problem of his next course he was startled. A bush, like laurels or rhododendrons, towards which he began to move to be in safer hiding, parted, and a face appeared, and then Herman saw the rough hair and straggling beard of a man. The moon fell full on the face, and Herman knew it; but he kept still and silent for a few moments, listening for some possible alarm in the Holy House; but everything was silent. There was no clamour of voices to break the stillness of the night, no sound of men beating on the locked door to arouse attention. Precious though the moments were, he watched the bearded face. The man's eyes were turned to the building, and his hands held back the bush on either side of him, so that his view should not be obscured. In a little while he came part way out into the open, and Herman saw, by the man's full body, that he was not mistaken as to his identity. "Heinrich!" he exclaimed, just so loud that his voice travelled over the intervening space. The man was alarmed, dropped back into the shadow of the bush, and was lost sight of completely. Silence followed, and Herman listened as intently as before for any sound of alarm in the cell; but none came. He broke the silence, for here was someone who might be of service. "Heinrich, don't you know my voice?" The face reappeared, and Herman saw how it turned towards the tree where he was standing unseen. He was struck partly with its terror, partly with its cunning. "Is it Herman Bengel?" came the question. "Yes. I will come to you, for I want your help." Herman was still speaking, when the man crossed to the tree with swift strides. "Speak, so that I may know where you are," Heinrich whispered. "Nay, come here, where the moonlight is, and I may see your face; or how shall I know that you are not one of those murderous hounds of that house yonder, trying to get your sharp fangs into me?" Herman stepped out into the moonlight, and the other, who watched him, caught at Herman's hand and kissed it.