He turned away, and hurried back, winding in and out among the merchandise, using his lantern freely for Herman to see the way; and as soon as he was within the doorway of the cellar in which Margaret and the others were in hiding, he threw all caution to the winds. "Come at once. The way is clear," he cried. "Forester, help Mistress Byrckmann. Take her in your strong arms if needs be, and Mistress Margaret and her father can carry the lantern and show you where to step." He had scarcely ended before Margaret had come away, and Herman could see her holding up the lantern. Then her father came, handing out his wife, and last of all was Otto Engel, who did as Heinrich suggested when he saw that already Margaret's mother was overwrought and unequal to the call upon her strength. "Lead on!" he exclaimed, as he bent low and gathered up the sick woman in his strong arms. Heinrich led them up the stone steps and past the great double gates, on through the great warehouses, which were windowless, through the stables where the horses looked round at them sleepily, until they stopped at a door which opened outwards. As they paused there they could hear the wind screaming past the door outside, and the rain patter against the woodwork, as well as bubble in at the doorstep, blown there by the gale which was sweeping across the city. "We must hide our lights the moment I open the door," said Heinrich; "but don't put them out, for we shall want them presently. Art ready, Herman?" "Yes," came the answer, for Herman had taken the lantern from Margaret and had led her by the hand through these dark places, always alert for any danger that might menace her. They could hear the stealthy slipping of the bolts, and then the scarcely stifled creaking of the hinges as the wind drove in the door the moment the latch was lifted. "Pass out, one by one," said Heinrich. "Bend your head, forester, for the door is only a low one. Ah! I thought as much. Hast hurt thyself?" he asked, in some concern, when Engel caught his forehead against the lintel. "Not much," whispered the forester, although the blow had staggered him. "Fortunately I was going slowly." But with that he stood in the open with the wind playing about his face. "What next?" asked Herman. "I'll shut this door to save suspicion, if the wind will let me do as much," said Heinrich, struggling to pull the door together, but failing till Herman caught it, and closed it on the latch after putting both hands to the task. "The street is empty. Now follow me." Heinrich crossed the road, his form dimly showing in the darkness, and the others followed, swaying and staggering with the wind, the forester more than once beating against the wall while carrying Margaret's sick mother.