"Has he tricked us, think you?" asked the forester, going to the door to stare down into the darkness of the stone staircase. But when he had stood there a moment or two he heard returning footsteps, and Heinrich came up, two steps at a time, carrying a coil of strong rope. "Didst think I'd gone and left you all?" he asked half roguishly. This gay side of him had rendered him oblivious of their anxiety, and he was gloating over their surprise when he let them into his secret. "I did," said the forester, completely puzzled. "You might have trusted me," Heinrich exclaimed half reproachfully as he uncoiled the rope, making them wonder all the more. As he threw down the last coil, he crawled along the stone recess to where the bars were, and then they were amazed. One by one he took a bar in his hands as he knelt before them. Lifting one, as if it fitted into a socket, he drew it away and laid it by his side. He did the same with another, and yet with more, until every bar was lying on the great stone window-sill, and there was a clear and open space as soon as he threw the glass window back on its hinges, broad enough even for the forester to pass. While they watched him in silence, he leant out and gazed about in all directions; now to right, to left, and downwards, and, satisfied with what he saw, he came back to them in happy complacence. "Go and look for yourselves!" he exclaimed, as his feet touched the floor; and the forester, nearest to the window, climbed up and moved on his hands and knees to the opening. The others heard him exclaim in wonder, and presently he came backwards, and was once more with the others. "Heinrich!" he exclaimed, catching at the simple one's hands, "I wronged thee, and from the bottom of my heart I crave pardon. You have brought us to deliverance." "'Tis true," said Herman, who had gone into the embrasure and, having gazed for a few moments, turned round to speak back to the others. "We are on the outside of the city. This is part of the city wall; yonder is the river, and the harbour too, and away here to our right, close by, is the forest which leads to Engel's hut. Margaret, we are safe if we can manage to let ourselves down by that rope, and if you and your mother have courage enough to be lowered so far. And yet," he added doubtfully, "I know not how the last one can come, for it will want a stronger man than Heinrich, even with the most willing heart, to lower the lightest of us." Heinrich laughed and skipped about in childish glee. "Come back and I will show you!" he exclaimed. "Besides, 'tis well not to waste time," he added, changing suddenly to seriousness. Herman crawled back, and was near to the edge to drop on the floor when Heinrich stopped him.