The ground was damp and bare, and mildew was on the walls; but as they went forward slowly and cautiously, prepared to hurry back if danger threatened, the lantern showed them moss in little patches; then plants that were content with little light so long as there was air to play about them. Because of the cool air they felt that they were coming near to some opening, and if they carried a light it might betray them. "Suppose we leave the lamp here, my dear," Margaret suggested. "We can use it when we return." Herman nodded and set it down, and again they moved on. Now there were bushes, and presently a sky was overhead, with scudding clouds, whose jagged edges were fringed with silver whiteness by the clear-shining moon. The storm that had swept the city had ended. A few steps more, and they were confronted by a bush, high, broad, and almost impenetrable, but, finding a way through, they saw the meadow, skirted by the river that rolled on in a stately flow. CHAPTER VIII THE PRINTER'S WORKSHOP When they had gone back to the house, and told of what they had seen, Herman took Margaret home, and then the story of the night's experiences was related to Byrckmann, whose eyes brightened. "God is in this. Now I see daylight," he exclaimed, turning to his daughter with a smile, the first she had seen on his face, which was genuine, since he had heard that Cochlaeus was in the city. He had forced himself to look serene and unruffled when his customers came to the shop, and had spoken to the workmen as though care sat but lightly on him; but whenever Margaret watched him while he was alone she knew that he had covered his face with a mask to hide his fear of approaching disaster. But things had undergone a change, and Byrckmann went to bed that night doing something that was unwonted--humming to himself as though he had no more dread. Her father's cheerfulness and obvious relief gave Margaret such a sense of safety that she, too, slept soundly. It was early morning when she got out of bed, and, drawing back the curtain, she looked into the street to see what sort of day was promising. What she saw surprised her, for John Gropper was crossing the road to the shop. "So early?" she muttered, for by the strokes of the cathedral bell it wanted two hours before the workmen would come for the day. But she asked no questions when it was her usual time for going downstairs. During the day the horses came to the door, and the waggon was laden with bales; then moved away in the direction of the quay. She thought nothing of it, because it was such a usual thing. She saw at times how men came and went, talking with her father at the counter, or going with him into the workshop; but his care was so sensibly diminished that she was able to move about without that oppression at her heart. She laughed light-heartedly when Herman came, and told her that he had spoken to her father, and that the wedding could take place next week.