"Mother," said Heinrich, when the others were standing in a group about him, "shut up the hole at once. We will wait until 'tis done;" and the woman, going on her knees, looked down to bid them all God-speed, and a safe deliverance, before she dropped the stone into its place. They waited a little longer, and heard her replacing the smaller stones one by one, Heinrich counting each little thud. "That's the last," he said contentedly. "Now we can start." He led the way across the empty chamber to a door, bolted and barred; but Heinrich moved the bolts and bars, ready to open the door. "If I say put out the light, do it instantly, or else cover it over with something. Your cloak, forester, is the very thing, and 'twill save the trouble of lighting again. And, mark this, whenever we come to any door, let me always go in first to see that all is clear, lest someone may be about. Forester, cover that light." He hid his own lantern under the cloak he had flung over his shoulders, and the whole company stood in darkness, not knowing what Heinrich was doing, nor where he went. They heard no sound which would tell them that he had opened the door; but before long, and through the open doorway, they saw a light. Heinrich was there, waving the lantern, and a low call came to them to come. The forester brought his lantern from beneath his cloak, and the little company moved forward in wonder. They found themselves in a great vault, full of stores such as would be brought into the city by the ships that came up or down the river. There were casks and boxes, coils of rope, chests of all shapes and sizes, anchors and chains for the shipping, barrels of biscuits and meat for sailors, a medley of things brought down for storage, to be carried away as the owner of the place had customers for them. These were set down in such a way that there was no clear path towards the spot where Heinrich was standing, waiting for them. At times Engel was able to find a way, and threw the light of the lantern on the floor, but many a time they had to climb over the stores, stepping from one cask to another. It was easy enough for the men, but for Margaret, even with her spirit, and for her mother, who was weakened by sickness, it was a task that made the others anxious. At last, however, they came to the spot where Heinrich was awaiting them with the greatest serenity. "Do you know this place, Master Byrckmann?" he asked, as if, now that they were really on the move, he was enjoying the venture. "I was never here," the printer answered, looking about the great cellar, and seeking to recognise it, if possible, with the aid of the two lanterns. "Then I'll show you something," said Heinrich gleefully. "Read that;" and he pointed to a huge bale on which Byrckmann's name was printed in rough characters. "There's that, and that, and that," said Heinrich, in quick succession, "and they all have your name on it. Can you guess now where you are?"