With a cry of dismay he pulled up when he came to a village on the river-bank. In his absent-mindedness for this long hour, thinking of so many things, and not of the way he was taking, he had travelled down the river, and every step had taken him farther and farther from the man he was so eager to serve! An hour lost! Nay, two; for he would now have those long miles to travel back before he reached the point from whence he started, and only then would the real endeavour commence. Who could tell what had chanced in the interval? He did not waste a moment, but swung round on the instant when he had discovered his blunder. He roundly blamed himself for his stupidity, but prayed that he might not be too late. On he went, the speed growing greater as the urgency swirled in on him. He covered the ground so swiftly that the hour he had lost was not doubled when he came to the spot where Tyndale's hunters had been talking. He was bathed in perspiration, for the return journey had been covered in little more than half an hour. Still, when he heard the city bell boom out the hour, he knew that Cochlaeus and the others had a lead of an hour and a half, and while he took off his cap to wipe his face, he wondered whether he could make up the loss and be in time. The thought was like a whip to him, and he went on with untiring speed, centring his mind on that one purpose, to overtake Tyndale's pursuers. He passed no one in that hard night's travel. More than once he plunged through the woods which ran down to the river's edge, where he found himself in a darkness so dense that it seemed almost Egyptian. He had to go slowly then, only able to guide himself by the scarcely distinguishable gleam of the water; and more than once he sprawled over a straggling root, and once again he struck his head against an unseen branch which hung low over the path. The enforced slackening of speed was exasperating; but he took things more calmly when he remembered that Cochlaeus was in the same plight, and would have to go as slowly. When he came into the open country again he was capless and bespattered with mud. His doublet was torn, and he felt the warm trickle of blood on his cheek, where the jagged point of a broken branch had grazed the skin. But these were minor matters where the thing at stake was of such overwhelming importance. By the time he had stepped clear of the forest the heavy clouds had thinned away, and the moon, while she did not altogether show her face, was casting some blurred light on the path. He was able now to go forward with a more certain step, so that he put on speed, and ran desperately, with the energy of young manhood, careless of fatigue.