Still watching him, they felt that his condition was serious. They
saw in him a man capable of high and prolonged endurance, but the
strain of the past few months, when he was compelled to remain in the
house in hiding, foregoing exercise and recreation, and especially
during these last few days, when he was seeking to get away from his
would-be tormentors, had borne him down, and he had come to the end
of his reserve strength. Yet, to their amazement, he was exultant
and confident, and they realised in those moments of watching that
William Tyndale was a man whose character had been matured in the
hardest of all schools, annealed in the furnace, and not forgetful,
although the chains were about his hands and feet, of the Hand that
was strong beyond that of men, and had brought him out of the dungeon
depths.
"Is my wallet all right, Herman?" Tyndale asked anxiously, too weak
to look for himself; too weak, indeed, to lift his hand to feel for
the strap across his breast.
Herman saw it hanging about his shoulders by the leather band, and
told him it was there. He gently guided his hand so that he might
feel it; then brought the wallet round for him to see, and have it in
his lap. In spite of his chains, Tyndale hugged it to his bosom.
"I should have been bereft indeed if I had lost these treasures," he
muttered. They were his stock-in-trade, as he had said at other
times half humorously. His books were in the wallet--those precious
volumes from whence he drew the material for his translated Bible.
But the watchers were anxious and perplexed, not knowing what next to
do, now that they found Tyndale so near to collapse, and, in spite of
his exultation and confidence, so near, as they thought, to death.
What if, after having ventured so far, they had a dead man on their
hands? Or if not that, how were they to get him away? And where
should they lodge him until he grew stronger?
CHAPTER XVIII
IN THE CELL
When Margaret came to herself, after she had fallen in a senseless
heap on the cavern floor, she found herself in darkness, and lying on
some straw.
Sitting up, she began to link up slowly with the past, so that she
recalled her desperate venture into the place which had so much in it
to terrify her. With this came the remembrance of the voices she had
heard. She recalled it all, and the dread returned, for surely she
was lying in the same place, and her surroundings were distressing as
before.
These were her thoughts; and, presently, she determined to move away,
to get into the outer air again; anywhere, rather than endeavour to
find her way along those forbidding passages which led to Herman's
home.
She rose to her feet and moved cautiously, with her hands stretched
out before her, lest her face should beat against something in the
darkness. She had not gone far before she touched a wall, and it
felt cold and damp.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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