PART I. (continued 2)

The old man had seated himself upon a bench: he leant with his elbows on the table, and his wrinkled forehead rested in his giant hands.

"Well, I shall follow your advice, and accept your offer with respect and thanks, my illustrious young sir," said he at last, with decision, as he arose. "It is not for the sake of this gray head: were it doomed to fall beneath the axe, I should not take flight, in my old days, to escape the blow. But the maiden must be saved: she is the apple of my eye and my soul's joy--she is good and innocent. She does not yet understand her strange dreams. God grant they may never be fulfilled! She must be saved; and you are right--time presses. You have also pointed my way to peace, sir drost, and I will follow it. I shall bid good night to my worldly calling, and, in your hunting-lodge, reconcile myself to my God and Judge as best I can."

With these words, he shook the knight's hand fervently, and went out, to make the necessary preparations for his departure.

The drost hastily drew forth the sheet of parchment that he had been reading, tore off a portion on which there was no writing, and, with a silver style which he carried about him, wrote upon it a few words to his warden at Harrestrup-Gaard, near Viborg. Scarcely had he finished the brief epistle, before long-withstood weariness overpowered him. The style fell from his hand; his long, dark-haired eyelids closed in spite of him; and he leant back on the bench, until he rested against the wall. Seated in this manner, in a few minutes he was fast asleep, and was busied, apparently, in his dreams, with some dear and familiar object. The soft gleam of the nearly-expiring light fell on his youthful but strong and almost stern countenance, which now, however, was lit up with a kindly smile; while, in his right hand, he held a rosary of rubies, which he wore concealed about his neck, and to which was attached a solitary amber jewel, which had seemingly belonged to a lady's necklace. His left hand still rested firmly, and with a half-conscious carefulness, upon the parchment that lay open before him on the table.

He was still securely slumbering in this position, when the door was gently opened, and a face peered in, which, though half concealed beneath a fisherman's shaggy cap, yet, with its thin, sandy beard and crafty features, betrayed the Chamberlain Rané. He was dressed entirely like a fisherman. He allowed the door to stand ajar, and, gliding noiselessly into the apartment, advanced on tiptoe to the table, where the knight's left hand still rested on the documents. After a scrutinising glance at the sleeper, his small gray eyes rested with curiosity upon the letter. He paused, and was about to slip it away; but the knight just then making a motion with his right hand, the artful spy hastily stepped back. He again approached carefully, looked upon the letter with strained attention, and turned pale when he saw his own name among a long list of others, in the open document, headed "Conspirators." He groped with one hand for a dagger, whose bright silver hilt projected from his breast-pocket; but appeared suddenly to restrain himself, as his eye fell upon the small slip addressed to the warden of Harrestrup. He seemed surprised on reading it, and, with a smile of triumph, went out as gently and cautiously as he had entered.

Shortly after, Drost Peter awoke, completely refreshed by his short slumber, and heard, in the apartment, loud noise and laughter, the jingling of bells, and the tread of iron-heeled boots with clattering spurs. He opened his eyes, and beheld a strong, heavy, and somewhat corpulent personage, whose round, jovial countenance, and strong brown beard, bespoke him to be in the prime of life. With a pair of large gold spurs on his heels, he trod the paved apartment firmly, and, casting his mantle aside with a gentle motion of his arm, exposed a knight's magnificent dress, and a pair of glittering gold chains. He paced the apartment backwards and forwards, in lively conversation with two less elegantly attired knights, and a lanky, awkwardly-built personage, whose short jingling jacket, and peaked cap with a long fox's tail behind, denoted his rank as a jester.

Surprised, the young drost seized the parchment document, which still lay open before him, and placed it hastily in his bosom. Thereupon he arose, and saluted the strangers with polite apologies that he had not sooner taken notice of them.

"Do I see aright?" he said: "is it the highborn Count Gerhard of Holstein I have the honour to salute?"

"Quite right, sir knight," answered the bluff, merry gentleman; "and, if I am not mistaken, you were my fortunate rival at the Swedish coronation tourney, last year--Sir Peter Hessel. Is it not so? and now, quite a drost, I hear?"

The knight gave an affirmative, by modestly bowing.

"You here behold a fortunate youth, my lords," continued Count Gerhard, turning to his companions: "this young gentleman can already boast of standing in higher favour at the Danish court than myself and some princely vassals of the blood. He wears the fair Queen Agnes' colours, and, as you perceive, watches over kingdom and country, like a true drost."

The strange knights smiled, and the lanky jester made up a droll face, while he set his bells a-jingling, and bowed before the drost until his nose almost touched the ground, the fox's tail flying over his cap, and striking the knight on the hand.

Drost Peter cast a careless look at the buffoon, and, with quiet self-possession, turned towards the princely lord. "The brave and wise Count Gerhard does not envy me the colours I wear," he began; "and, if you think I am not worthy of them, sir count, it is still open to you to settle the dispute; but only with sword and lance, and not with jeers and empty jinglings, or flaps from the fox-tail of your jester. Weariness, after unusual exertions, surprised me here for a moment. If, on this account, you think I am not so vigilant a servant of the king and country as beseems a drost, I nevertheless feel confident that I can vie in vigilance with you, or any gentleman of princely blood who calls himself a friend of the royal house of Denmark."

"You understand a jest, then, fair Drost Hessel?" answered the count, with a good-natured smile. "It was far from my wish to offend such a man as you. Only, you must not be angry with me, that, with a sincere heart, I hate your good fortune with a certain lady, and envy your last prize at the tourney. I accept with pleasure your invitation to break a lance with you upon occasion, and will most heartily settle your disputed rank as the fairest lady's knight: not at all in enmity, sir drost, but in all friendliness, cheerfully and pleasantly, as it becomes brave and honourable knights to contend. Do not be offended with my long-legged old man there," he continued, pointing to the jester: "he has, at present, a privilege with me and my friends, and intended nothing amiss. With every respect for honour, I do not think it sits so loosely on either me or others, that a privileged fool can shake it off with a fox's tail. You might even stand in need of such a fellow. In these very serious times, it is certainly highly necessary that one should keep a fool to jest for him, when he can no longer jest himself. It is, besides, both comely and christian-like, I think, to remind us that we are all as fools before our Lord. Now peace and good understanding."

As he concluded, he held forth his hand in a friendly manner, and the young knight accepted this token of reconciliation with joy. He now learned that Count Gerhard had just come over the Belt with his followers, on his way to Nyborg, to participate in the festivities at the Dane-court about to be held there. As Drost Peter was proceeding in the same direction, they soon agreed to travel in each other's company, and to start as soon as the count's followers had refreshed themselves.

While the newly-arrived guests sat merrily down to the table, which was still abundantly furnished with what they required, Drost Peter left the apartment. He proceeded to the kitchen, where he found Henner Friser and his granddaughter, prepared for their journey; and, having given the old man his brief dispatch to the warden of Harrestrup, he hastened their flight.

Old Henner had now his weapons and armour brought him, and quietly and thoughtfully equipped himself. With the long spear in his hand, the Frisian hempen mail on his breast, and the old rusty steel bow in a leather thong upon his back, he then took the young knight by the hand, to bid him adieu, and pressed it fervently, without saying a word. With tears in her dark eyes, the little Aasé seized the drost's hand, and pressed it to her lips, unable to say more than, "Thanks, sir knight. Farewell!" He patted her kindly on the cheek, and now first perceived the maiden's singular beauty, and that blending of dignity and childlike simplicity, which caused her countenance to beam with so much intelligence.

Claus Skirmen, also, seemed to expect a tender parting with Aasé. He had assumed a fearless air, not to appear moved, or to betray what was secretly passing in his heart; but she drove him, with her mantle, playfully towards his master, while she dried her eyes, and skipped out of the kitchen.

Before sunrise, Drost Peter, with Count Gerhard and his followers, rode merrily away through the streets of Middelfert. Claus Skirmen followed on his norback, along with the count's most grave jester. The bold young squire looked once more in the direction of the quay. There stood the armourer Troels, among a number of burghers and porpoise-hunters, all silently and earnestly regarding a little skiff, which was making way, with a favourable wind, across the Belt, and from which Henner Friser and his granddaughter still beckoned them a friendly farewell.

It was a beautiful spring morning. A light mist hovered upon the meadows. Bright dew-pearls trembled glitteringly in the dawn, on the slender cobwebs, amidst the newly-sprung bushes by the road-side. The knights had arrived at a height just beyond Middelfert. The sun now arose directly before them, enlivening the magnificent landscape, while a thousand larks poured forth their lively songs overhead.

As the travellers rode leisurely along, the better to enjoy the charming scene, a tall, lanky horseman galloped swiftly past them: he was dressed as a fisherman, with a large hairy cap drawn over his eyes. The knights had not taken much notice of him; but Claus Skirmen rode hastily up to his master. "That was Chamberlain Rané, sir drost!" he said, eagerly: "his sharp fox's nose stuck out beneath his cap. Shall I after him?"

"It is not requisite," answered Drost Peter, knitting his brows. "If he travels this way, we shall meet him, time enough, at Nyborg."

"But, should he speak first with the king, sir, you know well how it will go."

"That I know very well," answered the drost: "let him ride on."

The young squire was silent, and discreetly returned to his former station, behind his master and his distinguished companions.

"A magnificent country!" exclaimed Count Gerhard, surveying, with delight, the shining, fragrant meadows, which, gilded by the morning sun, lay beautifully extended before his happy, cheerful eyes.

"Truly so," answered Drost Peter, with a melancholy seriousness. "Were the people as happy as the land is fair and pleasant to behold, Denmark were still a terrestrial paradise. But we have come into the world a few generations too late, noble count. It was quite other times to those who lived in the youthful days of Waldemar Seier, or in the days of his exalted father."

"Not only is the land the same, sir drost," said the count, "but the people, at bottom, are also the same. Let only a great Waldemar once more arise among you, and you will have the renowned old days again. The glory you now deplore made many eyes overflow, in the time of my brave ancestors; and we counts of Holstein have no great reason to desire a renewal of their splendour. Yet I were but an indifferent knight, if I did not admire these glorious times; and I do not blame any Dane who regrets them. But what say you of our young Prince Erik--the little king, as we may already call him? I know he has you for his instructor in the art of arms, and he ought to be half a knight already."

"On him now repose my hopes, and those of every Danish heart," replied the drost; "and, if it please God, we shall not be ashamed of it. Allow time for the bud to expand, and I promise you, at least, that none in the land shall do a cowardly or unrighteous deed with impunity: and that is much. Denmark, to be happy, requires at all times a great man upon the throne. The glorious days that it would be imperishable honour to win, I do not expect to be brought about in our times. A hundred years hence, and perhaps no one will remember the names we now hear most frequently at the court of Denmark; but the pillars that support a tottering throne stand not there in vain, though they may be hidden beneath its ruins, and forgotten."

"Whom do you reckon among the pillars, then, sir drost, besides yourself?" inquired Count Gerhard, in a half-jocular tone, and as if unwilling to enter too deeply into a conversation so serious, that did not comport with his habitual careless gaiety.

"I regret that I cannot yet number myself among the meritorious men of the country, and deserving adherents of the royal house," replied the young drost, modestly; "but, should I live to become as old and sagacious as our brave John Little, as stout and bold as David Thorstenson or Benedict Rimaardson, and as wise as the prior of Antvorskov, our learned Master Martin, I should hope to earn a name that, in our times, at least, no friend of Denmark and the Danish monarchy should forget."

"In troth, four brave and able men are those," replied the count. "And yet, I have heard say that old Sir John is a stern, hard-hearted taskmaster."

"He is a strict and upright man, and must, therefore, in such lax and lawless times, hear of much wickedness," said the drost, zealously. "He holds by law and justice, and makes no distinction between the peasant and the prelate. But whilst he is stern and bold, he is also sagacious and prudent: he effected the reconciliation with Archbishop Jacob, and relieved the country from ban and interdict--he was umpire in the dispute for the Swedish crown, and told King Magnus some hard truths--and he was not afraid to take part against his own king when, last year, he was judge respecting the inheritance of the princesses. A more upright and able man you cannot show me in Denmark."

"Now, indeed, I know that he is your pattern of a statesman," replied the count, with a smile; "and I have a great regard for the man. But the learned gentleman you mention, you must admit, with all his piety and wisdom, to be a great fool, nevertheless. I can readily believe that he is a great theologian and philosopher; but when he comes with his antiquities and his logicorum, or whatever it is called, he does not concern himself about those he may be talking to, and, with his learning, almost drives laymen crazy. Come hither, Daddy Longlegs: thou canst show us how the learned gentleman behaves himself--him we saw with the Count of Hennegau last year--he who had come straight from Paris, and who had made the learned discovery--Master Morten Mogesen."

"Magister Martinus de Dacia, surnamed Magni Filius, which signifies 'Son of the Great,'" said the half-learned jester, pedantically. "No learned man would condescend to call himself Master Morten Mogesen, after having once passed to the other side of the isthmus." Here he suddenly assumed the grave demeanour of a schoolman, drew himself up, and spoke in a kind of mysterious whisper.

"Capital! there we have the man exactly!" exclaimed the count, laughing.

Maintaining the same posture, the jester began a discourse, full of logical terms, on the importance of adequately understanding the Martinian modi significandi in logica.^[12]

The complete caricature of the famous Master Martin's entire mode and manner, as well as of his voice and countenance, amused Count Gerhard exceedingly: he held his sides, and laughed until tears ran from his eyes. The two young knights belonging to his train also laughed immoderately; and Drost Peter smiled in spite of himself, notwithstanding that the jest highly displeased and vexed him.

"I must confess, sir count," he said, gravely, as soon as the general laughter permitted him to speak, "your jester perfectly understands how to make sensible people ridiculous, by imitating and exaggerating their personal defects and foibles, excluding, however, whatever is worthy and honourable in their character, which grimacing cannot counterfeit. In my young days, this was called making faces at people, and, as a malicious kind of waggery, was rewarded with a switch and a sound drubbing. The famous Master Martin is my preceptor and confessor; and those who, after this explanation, continue to jeer or find fault with him, were it even yourself, illustrious count, shall have to do with me, as long as I can move an arm or raise my knightly sword."

"Now, you must permit me to indulge my humour at your own expense, sir drost," replied the count, still laughing. "Are people in Denmark such barbarians, that they have neither sense to enjoy the frank mimic art themselves, nor allow others to be amused with it? What signify to me your learned confessor's virtues, when I require only his follies to promote my health and exercise my lungs in an innocent, good-natured manner? If, indeed, we must fall out about that, sir knight, at the proper time and place it will afford me an excellent joke; but as I never fight for trifles in the morning, or upon an empty stomach, we can, if it please you, defer it until we have had dinner at Odense. In the meanwhile, let me assure you that I have a great esteem for your learned Master Martin, and heartily believe him to be a worthy and distinguished man."

"Whom I honour and esteem, I can never make a jest of," replied Drost Peter, zealously. "It may, perhaps, be the fashion in other countries; but, praise to God, we Danes do not yet understand it."

"That is, indeed, a fault with all of you," replied the count; "and therefore you are often, with injustice, regarded as simple-minded, although, in fact, it is only the want of a gay, light humour. You are, in consequence, as much one-sided in your praise as in your blame. Human nature is not yet perfect. It promotes truth, and nourishes humility, when one has an eye for the defective as well as for the excellent, as they lie in heaps in this fair, comical world. I know no one who has not his folly and his ridiculous side: with the most distinguished men, this is the more perceptible; and my best friends may perceive that I laugh at what is ridiculous in them, while I respect their virtues as they deserve. The same freedom I allow to every one who knows me; and, should you ever feel disposed to laugh at my expense, you will see that it does not annoy me. Come, Daddy Longlegs, show this gentleman how I behave myself when seriousness turns me crazy."

The jester bowed upon his horse in a respectful manner, and then assumed a comical expression of great good humour, which speedily passed from laughter to the deepest earnestness, and, from that, to the most uncontrollable fury. To carry out this farce in a fitting manner, he drew his wooden sword, and attacked the company, without distinction, like a madman.

"Hold, hold! Enough, Longlegs! You will drive our horses wild, and that will be confoundedly bad," shouted the count, reining in his steed with difficulty, while he laughed, and rubbed his left arm, upon which the jester had dealt him a blow.

"If this be the way in which people divert themselves at your court, sir count, I have not more to complain of than yourself," said Drost Peter, laughing; "but still, you have not convinced me of the propriety of your singular amusement."

Jesting in this friendly manner, they continued their journey to Odense, where Count Gerhard and the knights were to dine. When they recommenced their journey towards Nyborg, in the afternoon, their little difference appeared to be altogether forgotten. The count and Drost Peter had now become such good friends, that they had sent their followers in advance, to be able to discourse together more freely, and without interruption. Their conversation was of the Dane-court, which was to be held on the following day at Nyborg, and respecting the unhappy dispute with Duke Waldemar, who had laid claim to the entire kingdom, and insisted upon his heirship to Alsen and many of the crown possessions.

"For my part, they may decide the matter to-morrow as they please," said Count Gerhard, with apparent indifference; "but, if you would know my opinion, sir drost, I must honestly confess that I consider the young duke to be in the right, so long as he only demands his ancestorial fief intact, and does not aim at higher objects. The son can never forget what his father, the unfortunate Duke Erik, was obliged to undergo. His right of succession to the dukedom was unquestionable; but he was feasted with empty promises, until, at length, he became maddened, and appealed to the umpire which every prince and knight carries by his side. I do not blame him for that; but, that he became a pious hang-the-head when that miscarried, and died of vexation in a cloister, was stupid. The manner in which they have since treated the son, you cannot defend; for it is unnecessary. Had you been well advised in time, it would never have happened."

"But you must, nevertheless, confess that it was in the highest degree unjust, and a matchless piece of foolhardiness," interrupted Drost Peter, warmly.

"I know what you would say," continued the count; "but the one injustice has now taken the other by the tail. Duke Waldemar, as the king's ward by compulsion, might have grown old and gray before he could obtain a foot of land of his ancestor's fief, had he not, while a youth, taken the bull by the horns, and manfully insisted upon his rights. He managed the matter bravely, and it might now be amicably settled. But why do they continue, so meanly and pitifully, to irritate him, and withhold the beggarly islets from him? Hence the entire misfortune. But for this injustice, he would scarcely have opened his mouth so wide, and threatened to swallow the whole of Denmark. Now he is of age, and has become too strong for you: he is haughty and unmanageable, and you must beware how you hold out the rod to him. These are troublous times, sir drost. The discontent of the nobles happens opportunely for the duke. But do not let us any longer think on these perplexing matters. I do not mix myself up in state affairs, so long as I am left in peace. I am going, as I said, to the Dane-court, to amuse myself, and to see the charming Queen Agnes; and that, you must confess, is a fair and legitimate object for my journey."

At the last turn which the count gave to the conversation, Drost Peter blushed, and appeared to hesitate. "The homage you would pay our noble queen, sir count," he began, gravely, "she most truly deserves, and no one can blame you that you do not yield in courtesy to any of our Danish chivalry; but, that you travel to the Danish court for that purpose alone, I cannot credit. If you intend to support Duke Waldemar's audacious demands, consider it well. The independence of the crown and kingdom is at stake. If they do not allow the matter to be legally settled by umpires, and if both sides are not contented with such an arrangement, a sanguinary civil war is to be apprehended."

"As I have already told you, sir drost, I do not in any way mix myself up in these state affairs. Is it certain, then, that the whole court, with the fair and lovely queen, is at Nyborg?"

"That, at least, was the determination," replied Drost Peter, coldly, feeling much annoyed by the count's frankness, which he appeared to consider as injurious to the queen's person and the royal house. "I think it singular, sir count," he continued, with suppressed indignation, "that you should express so unreservedly what every discreet knight and admirer of beauty is wont only to display in his colours or on his shield; especially in a case like this, where knightly homage has its narrow and prescribed limits. I cannot reconcile this extreme admiration for the fair with your affliction as a widower."

"I have, in general, a quiet and contented mind, sir drost," replied the count, carelessly; "and that accounts for it, you may be assured. I contract my narrow world more than is consistent with my health and happiness. What pleases or displeases me I can make no secret of, least of all before friends; and if you find any singularity or amusement in that, you are welcome. I am glad when I can reconcile my pleasures with those of others."

"But this candour and amusement of your's, sir count, I consider as offensive to the exalted lady whose colours I bear with profound respect, as well as to my master and king himself; and you must excuse me, if I venture to disturb your calm and happy humour."

"So, so!" interrupted the count, suddenly changing his air of indifference for one of the utmost sternness. "Is that the case? Now I know what I have to expect, and shall be at your service immediately, as I promised you in the morning. But, first, I will make my candour intelligible, sir drost. If you come in harness against me, for my undisguised attachment to your exalted mistress, I shall only see established the truth of certain unintelligible rumours, which you are probably as well acquainted with as I am."

"Rumours?" rejoined the young drost, becoming fiery red: "if they are rumours that sully my own honour, or that of a more exalted personage, they are liars and slanderers who utter them, and shameless niddings who credit them."

"What respects the exalted lady who suffers most from these rumours," returned the count, with a look of fire, "I am far from believing. But, as regards you, my young high-flying gentleman, I have reason now to believe that the height to which fortune has carried you has made you somewhat giddy, and that the eagle on your crest spreads his wings so wide that they stand in need of clipping."

Drost Peter became pale with indignation, and grasped his sword.

"I might choose other means to bring you back to reflection, and to awake you from a mad and perilous dream," continued the enraged count: "you walk, with closed eyes, upon a precipice. I need only mention your name, at the proper time and place, to see you fall headlong; but I dream, in a manner, the same dream myself. I readily admit that, in me, it is a folly, leading only to a bedlam: but that is my affair. My madness is still, at least, disinterested; and I do not use it as a degrading means of soaring aloft by a woman's favour. I have not yet, like you, brought our noble mistress into evil repute, by improper familiarities before the eyes of others. As her true knight and defender, I intend now to chastise your insolence. My sword is drawn, sir drost--defend yourself!"

Like two flashing beams, the swords of both knights descended and met. They fought long, with the greatest ardour, but with about equal skill, without either being able to inflict on the other any considerable wound. After a time, Drost Peter recovered his self-possession, and his blows did not fall so fast, but were better directed. On the other hand, Count Gerhard's arm and shoulder bled; and, becoming furious, he struck so wildly about him, in all directions, that the most skilful swordsman could not reckon on parrying all his blows. Drost Peter was already bleeding from several wounds, and his strength began to fail him; but now his infuriated antagonist, meaning to inflict a mortal wound in his neck, laid himself entirely open. The wounded knight dexterously availed himself of this critical moment, and suddenly disarmed the count, at the same time wounding him deeply in the breast, when Gerhard fell back on his horse, and the sword dropped from his hand. Scarcely had the decisive stroke been given, ere Drost Peter, springing from his horse, came to his antagonist's assistance; but, before he could reach him, the count sank, fainting, from the saddle.

Like a practised chirurgeon, Drost Peter immediately sought for the wound, and found it deep, but not mortal. He took the necessary bandages, and a healing salve, which he usually carried at his saddle-bow, and, when the count again opened his eyes, he found himself bound up most carefully. His rage had disappeared, and his countenance again assumed its gay good humour.

"It was, in truth, a warm tussle, that had not much fun in it," he said. "I have besmeared you vilely, drost. Your wounds bleed freely, and yet you have bound mine first. That is more than I could have expected from a rival. Suffer me now to do you a similar service: or can you do it yourself? I am a bad hand at it." He would have risen, but fell back with faintness.

"Your wound is tolerably deep, but not dangerous, noble count," said Drost Peter: "when you have somewhat recovered your strength, I shall assist you to your saddle. I think, indeed, we may reach Nyborg, if we travel gently. You have so hacked and hewed me, right and left, contrary to all rule, that I shall have enough to do to patch all the slits. But they are nothing to signify. The chink in the neck incommodes me the most: I believe you had a special wish to behead me."

"Naturally enough," replied the count; "unless, indeed, the head had not supplanted me with the fair lady, in whose honour we shall now present ourselves, like live hashed-meat, at the Dane-court. I have not, however, cut you so deep in the neck, but that your head can sit steadily. And, now that I think of it, it was but an absurd, confounded rumour we quarrelled about. You have hewed me altogether so bravely, that I cannot longer believe any ill of you."

Drost Peter had, in the meantime, bound a linen cloth about his bleeding neck, and, for this purpose, had been obliged to unloose the ruby rosary to which the amber bead was attached. With a quiet smile, he held out the trinket to his wounded antagonist.

"In my own justification, I shall inform you, excellent Count Gerhard, that this pearl is a love-token from my future wife. I have not seen her, indeed, since she played with dolls, and I myself rode a cock-horse; but still she is my destined bride: I promised this, with childish thoughtlessness, to my dying father. She now only presents herself to my mind as an innocent, angelic child--a half-forgotten vision. Perhaps I shall not be able to love her when I again see her. Nevertheless, to none other shall I give my hand; and, by my knightly honour, I am not conscious of any faithlessness to her. What I feel towards our common exalted mistress is only admiration and chivalrous respect, which neither love nor hate shall deprive me of."

"Here is my hand!" exclaimed Count Gerhard, heartily. "We two are trusty friends in life and in death. He who, from this day forward, says an evil word of Drost Peter Hessel, shall have his nose and ears hacked off by me, as sure as my name is Count Gerhard."

Drost Peter heartily reciprocated his warm grasp, and assisted him upon his horse. He then sprang quickly into his own saddle, and, with friendly interchange of confidence, the wounded knights leisurely continued their journey.

It was late in the evening as they approached Nyborg. They were riding northward, between Helletoft and Sprotoft, where the road leads to the town, which, however, could not yet be seen, on account of the great wood of oak and beech which concealed it from the land side. It was a fine, clear, spring evening. The waning moon had just risen, and lighted up the knotted oaks, with their still naked branches; while the newly-blossomed beeches formed, as it were, over the travellers, the arches of a peaceful temple. The warm combat and its consequences, as well as the friendly relations that had since been established between the knights, rendered them thoughtful, and they now rode in silence through the wood, busied, seemingly, with their own reflections, while, from the adjacent copse, the thrilling notes of the nightingale fell upon their ears.

"But how far are we now from the town? I thought we had been in its vicinity," said Count Gerhard, at length, a little impatiently, under the smarting of his wound. "Another time, perhaps, you may put a better edge upon your sword, Drost Peter: it will tear the flesh less, and go a little deeper. I cannot bear to be scratched to death."

"Had it gone a finger's-breadth deeper, noble count, we had not heard the nightingales together this evening," replied Drost Peter. "But, God and our lady be praised! there is no danger, and the wound will not trouble you long, if you be only a little careful. I know my salve: it is from Henrik Harpestræng's prescription."

"May your words prove true," returned the count. "He certainly spread the plaster for Waldemar Seier's eye. But how shall I manage in this plight?" he continued, somewhat annoyed: "I shall not be able to show myself at the palace in this figure, like a ruffled cock, and I am not much acquainted with the town. Is there an ordinary inn?"

"Of inns there is no lack, noble sir. Since the Dane-court has been held here so frequently, the little town has been wonderfully extended. But, since you cannot go wounded to the palace, to frighten all the queen's fair maids, accept of a lodging and attendance with me."

"With you, drost bachelor? When, then, did you turn citizen, and become a Nyborg housekeeper?"

"Last year, if you will, though on a small scale. In my position, you know, I have scarcely a home anywhere. My ancestral seat, at Harrestrup, I rare see once a year. When the court is at Rypen, I reside with the prince in the palace; but that is seldom long. When here, I lodge alone. The palace can scarcely accommodate the numerous princely lords who here assemble for the Dane-court. I have, therefore, followed the example of the last drost, and, like Knight John, built for myself a good stone house, by the Nordre-Dam. There, I am near the court and palace, in the midst of the counsellors and king's tenants, and yet my own master."

"Ay, that is well. I am your guest, then, without farther ceremony. And since, after the good old fashion, you understand how to heal as well as how to break the skin, it could not have happened better."

"It is certainly the last time this hand shall perform such a piece of surgery on you," replied Drost Peter, holding out a friendly hand to his companion. "Meantime, you must accept of a bachelor's accommodation. I am not much versed in housekeeping; but my old foster-mother, Dorothy, is well skilled in it. I intended, previously, to be your host to-night, and my squire has taken care to provide an entertainment."

"A goblet of potent wine," said the count, "is needful after such a bloodletting."

"That is not exactly in accordance with old Master Henrik's receipt-book; but, still, with your strong constitution, I think you may venture it."

"A fig for your receipt-book and old Master Henrik! He was only a clerk: what should he understand of the constitution of a count of Holstein? Wine I can bear, were I even lying in extreme unction, like my blessed father--God rest his soul! I shall not die, as long as I can swallow a good draught of wine, nor shall a heart-sore of any kind ever overcome me. There are not, indeed, many people who get fat upon unfortunate love," he added, with a light sigh; "but still, with wine and a jester, one may succeed. I may not be able to boast of my success in love, yet, as you may perceive, I am in good condition."

"You still sorrow, then, over the death of your young wife," said Drost Peter, sympathisingly; "that I could well see."

"Sorrow! Who dares to say that I sorrow?" interrupted the count. "When any one grieves at my court, I give my fool permission to bang him with cats'-tails. Now, since you are my trusty friend," he continued, "I shall tell you how matters stand with me. Had I seen the Danish queen before last year, I had still been a bachelor perhaps, not a widower--and I had never wooed a Swedish princess. It is accursed state policy that makes almost every prince a fool; but I had the reward I merited. The princess found the Holstein count too poor to live with, and so she died; and all the honour I have gained is that of being son-in-law to a fool of an ex-king, whom any Danish knight could tear into shreds, and who is now running about from land to land, like a madman, along with a bastard woman."

For some time they rode along in silence.

"No one can have great respect for your unfortunate father-in-law," said Drost Peter, thoughtfully, as he dwelt, in imagination, on the Swedish King Waldemar's dethronement. "He did no honour to his great name, it is true; but, still, he was king of Sweden, by law and right. To me, it is a sad thought, that the unfortunate example has been set to other nations, of a crowned and anointed king being so overthrown. It was one of our proud Stig Andersen's doings; and therein he exceeded the king's mandate and authority. The Swedish people will not better themselves by the bargain: for a weak and sensual, but a good-natured, and, at times, even a devout king, they have taken a strong and prudent, but a fierce and sanguinary tyrant. For the despised log, they have taken a hydra. King Magnus has now taught them, with his headsman's axe, that no Swedish knight carries his head so high, that he may not strike it off."

"An able king is the Swedish Magnus--that you must, nevertheless, admit," replied the count. "I do not boast of him because he is my brother-in-law; but this I know, that he is not called Magnus, or Ladislaus, in vain. If he does, at times, strike off the heads of some of the haughty great ones, still the small have reason to extol him: he has put locks upon their doors in earnest, and suffers not petty tyrants to rule where he sways the sceptre."

"There you are right, Count Gerhard. He thinks that one great tyrant is quite enough for Sweden, and, with your and Queen Hedwig's permission, that he himself should be the man. Matters are not yet come to this extremity in Denmark, however bad they may be; but if Stig Andersen and his friends were at liberty to dethrone and set up kings at their pleasure, you would soon see in what a sea of blood we should swim."

With such conversation, they arrived at the town-gate, where they were stopped by an armed burgher, who, in the governor's name, sternly, demanded, who they were, and whither they were going. As soon as Drost Peter had announced his own name and that of Count Gerhard of Holstein, the stern officer made a profound bow, but still reminded the distinguished travellers of the seventh article in the civic law of Nyborg.

"Good," replied the drost: "it is right to remind us thereof." And they rode on without hindrance.

"They must be very strict here," said the count, "when the drost himself must be reminded of the law. What have their tiresome bye-laws to do with us?"

"It was in his orders," answered Drost Peter. "No stranger must here carry his weapon farther than to his inn; and every traveller must be apprised of this. The presence of the king, and of the numerous strangers, render such a precaution necessary. Of what use are strict laws, unless they are enforced? The man did not know me; but he knew that I do not suffer myself to be made an exception in these matters."

"The plague! Are we prisoners of war here, in the midst of peace? This is ridiculous!" exclaimed the count. "Is the monstrous Riben bye-law in force here? God preserve us from the Ribe-Ret! as we say in Kiel."

"Let us not talk too loud about this, noble count," replied Drost Peter, riding closer up to him, while he continued, in a subdued tone: "it is truly a great misfortune, when the law itself renders its transgression necessary. What has made the Ribe-Ret to be so decried there, has here, in part, fallen into disuse. In some points, however, the bye-laws here are too severe, and almost cruel. If it please God, in due time it shall be otherwise."

They now rode past the old Lady Kirk, which, with its lofty spire, stood in a green space, called Helletoft, where also stood several separate buildings, in the same Gothic style as the church, with pointed gables and small round windows.

"Who lives here?" inquired the count: "it looks as still and dreary as a convent."

"Here abide the clerks and vergers of Our Lady's Kirk," answered Drost Peter. "If you yearn after life and merriment, they will not be wanting here, when we pass to the palace. There are twice as many people in the town now as there are at other times, and, on such occasions, the mead and strong ale are not stinted. Fighting and disorder follow as a consequence; but these are, perhaps, looked after with greater vigilance, and punished with more severity, than is requisite. Those armed fellows you see there are the governor's people: they, too, will probably stop us."

It happened as Drost Peter had surmised: the travellers found their horses seized by six armed burghers, who demanded whether they did not know the bye-law, that they rode armed. Upon the drost's explanation, that they had just entered the town, and were riding to their dwelling, they were allowed to proceed; followed, however, by three of the strict officials, to watch their motions.

"Here the king should be secure enough," whispered the count, much annoyed. "The fellows look upon us as if they suspected a traitor in every stranger."

"Unfortunately, there is reason for it, noble count; but here we are accustomed to it. It disturbs no burgher's merriment. Hear you, now, how they are singing there, by the old stone house with the pointed gable? It is the burgher-watch of the Town-hall. Now they are drinking the king's health."

"There are not a few. Has Nyborg so many burghers?"

"These are only a third part of them. The rest are on guard at the palace. The king has not more devoted subjects. He has also done much for the town, and specially favours it. Were he not in greater security here than elsewhere, the Dane-court would be removed to some other town, and then there would be an end to Nyborg's prosperity."

They now rode past the palace. It was a strong building, of considerable extent, with four wings, built of free-stone and burnt bricks, and protected by a massive wall, a deep moat, and four lofty turrets. From the small round windows streamed the light of numerous torches, and the music of flutes and violins was audible. A promiscuous crowd was in motion outside the walls, but without much noise, and with an order and gentleness amounting almost to anxiety, whilst the armed officials went to and fro, frequently exhorting them to quietness.

"What is to be seen here?" inquired the count.

"Over the wall there may be seen the dancing in the knights' saloon," replied Drost Peter.

Count Gerhard became attentive: he observed a tall, majestic female figure flit past the middle window, and he stopped his horse.

"The queen!--see, the queen!" he heard the curious spectators whisper to one another.

"It is the duke she is dancing with," said one.

"Nay, that it is not: it is the handsome young Drost Hessel. Look, how proud he dances! Lofty thoughts he has, you may trow," exclaimed another.

"Come, noble count," said Drost Peter, hastily, "let us not get into the crowd, with our unruly horses. We are now close to my dwelling."

They rode on a little way, and stopped at a dark-looking house, where, on the high stone steps, stood a squire, bearing a torch.

"You are arrived at last, sir," cried Claus Skirmen, springing towards him with the torch. "Has any mischance befallen you? I ventured not to disobey your commands by leaving the house myself; but I have sent all the servants out in search of you."

"We have had a little encounter with a pair of hasty young knights on our way," said Drost Peter, "and my noble guest has been somewhat severely wounded. Assist him carefully from his horse. Is all in order?"

"As you have commanded, sir. But are you not also wounded? Shall I bring a surgeon?"

"That is unnecessary, so long as you and I are here. We would have no talk about the matter. Attend only to the count."

Not without wincing and sundry oaths did the wounded Count Gerhard dismount from his horse, and ascend the high stone steps, where his two knights and the lanky jester received him with sympathising attentions.

"A truce with condolences," said the count. "I am both bound and salved. Let me only get to table, and have something to live on."

Claus Skirmen went hastily forwards, and conducted the count, through an ante-room, into a spacious vaulted apartment, where stood a covered table, with tall wax-lights, and well garnished with provisions and bright silver wine-flagons.

Count Gerhard regarded these preparations with satisfaction, and immediately threw himself into a chair; and, the better to seat himself, he released his sword from its belt. As he held it in his hand, he recollected the intimation he had received at the city-gate.

"'Sdeath!" he said, "if we must behave as you say, sir drost, we must now, like prisoners of war, hand you over our weapons, since you are host."

"Now, indeed," replied Drost Peter, "it is well you recollected it; for, truth to say, I had forgotten it; and, if I had not, I should have been forced to request you to do so."

"But if now I should not obey the mandate," inquired the count, "what are the consequences?"

"If you were ignorant of the law, and by a solemn oath could pledge yourself to that effect, the penalty is only a mark-penny to the governor, and one to the town. The same penalty is inflicted on the housekeeper who does not inform his guest of the law."

"But, now that I know this stupid ordinance, and yet will not allow myself to be disarmed, what great misfortune follows?"

"Without being displeased, allow me to answer you in the words of the law itself, Count Gerhard. 'If the guest is reminded, and wears his weapon nevertheless,' it says, 'then, with the same spear, sword, or knife, shall he be run through.'"

"Oh, what a mischance! Not through the heart or gizzard?"

"Through the hand, noble count. There hangs the table of the law: you can read it yourself."

"The devil take such stupidities! There lies my sword. You do the same, gentlemen." With these words Count Gerhard cast his sword into a corner. His knights followed his example.

Drost Peter took his own sword, and placed it by the side of the others. "I must submit to the same law," he said, with a courteous bow; "and I hope, my honoured guests, that you will not think ill of me, on account of its strictness here. Be seated, gentlemen, and let us be merry."

This invitation to merriment was supported by the jester, who had already seated himself, and now arose with a look of the most grave importance. He approached Drost Peter with solemn step, and, with a deep bow, handed him his wooden sword. "Take care of that, honoured sir host," he said: "it is the famous sword Tyrfing, which cannot be unsheathed without shedding blood. Look to it, that it does no mischief in this excellent city."

Drost Peter handed him his sword back again, as a mark of honour, at which they all laughed heartily, and took their places in the heavy, high-backed oaken chairs. The articles of silver, and the costly table appointments, testified that they were in the house of a person of opulence. Of male attendants, and supple pages, there was no lack; and yet it appeared extraordinary, that the polished floor was not swept, and that the dust lay thick on the backs of the chairs, and upon the window-sills.

"Where is old Dorothy?" asked Drost Peter of the squire, whilst Count Gerhard and the strangers were engaged with the viands. "She was wont to keep the house as bright as a shield."

"Alas, that is true, sir," answered Skirmen; "but poor Dorothy Brushbroom has gone quite crazy. She took a little bit of lead from a window of Our Lady's Kirk, to cure a girl who was bewitched. She has been thrown into the thieves' hole, and, it is said, will be sentenced to-morrow."

"God pity her!" exclaimed Drost Peter, warmly, rising from the table. "The unfortunate creature!"

"What is the matter, my worthy host?" inquired Count Gerhard. "Has anything disastrous happened in the house? With wife and child I know you are not embarrassed. What household sorrow, then, can thus trouble a bachelor?"

"A greater affliction than any one trows," answered Drost Peter. "I have an old trusty nurse: she has loved and been with me since I was quite a child. She is a true affectionate soul, who would readily die for me. She is the best wife in the world, and has kept house for me with the greatest order and trustworthiness; but her head is filled with stories of goblins, witches, and dwarfs; and, as soon as any one is taken ill, she believes, in the simplicity of her heart, that they have seen the elfin-king, or have been bewitched by Nixes, and then will she have a remedy of holy church lead, or such-like singular means. Now she is taken and imprisoned for a bit of metal that cannot be worth a doit. The poor creature!"

Some of the gentlemen smiled, and the jester made one of his droll faces.

"Now, what great misfortune is there in this?" inquired Count Gerhard. "The bit of lead you can outweigh with a silver penny. The old soul will be released in a day or two, and, in the meantime, another may sweep your floor."

"It is death to her, Count Gerhard, even if it had not happened in the church. You are not aware of the laws of Nyborg. Every man who is guilty of theft is hanged; but a woman is buried alive."

"And are you all mad, then?" demanded Count Gerhard. "Shall a woman be thus inhumanly punished? Is the crime more atrocious in her than in a man? You jest, sir drost."

"If you do not believe me, noble sir, read for yourself. There are the bye-laws affixed to the door-post. Read but the twenty-ninth article, and you will see that, unfortunately, I am not jesting."

"Read it, Longlegs!" cried out the count to his jester: "I have some difficulty in rising; and, truly, such confounded laws are not worth rising for."

"The twenty-ninth article," commenced the jester, taking up a candle, which threw a light upon the large table of laws on the door-post. "Here I have it. Give ear, my masters: it is the golden word of justice, and a sufficient reason is alleged." He then began to read, in a grave judicial manner: "'What woman soever shall be guilty of theft, and deserves to be hanged, with the stolen goods by her side, shall, for her womanly honour's sake, be buried alive.' Now, in truth, this is an honour that one takes straightways with him to eternity. It is no transient honour, my masters; and, therefore, it has been reserved for the fair and more fortunate sex."

"Are you, then, insane?" exclaimed the count. "What honour is there in being buried alive?"

"Where is your wisdom, my wellborn sir?" replied the jester: "for a woman, it is manifestly a far more honourable and becoming way of dying, than if she were to be hanged, like a man--like a male thief, on a gallows. Think of the scandal it would occasion her father confessor."

"It is, nevertheless, a madness," exclaimed the count. "Is it out of mere strait-laced modesty that they are so cruel here? May the foul fiend take all clerks and hang-the-heads who give out such laws and regulations! Are you alike scrupulous, Drost Peter? And will you suffer your good old nurse to be buried alive, merely that your wise king's law may not be transgressed?"

"She shall--she must be saved!" exclaimed the young drost, who had hitherto stood silent and thoughtful, with his hand on the document in his breast. "Excuse me, gentlemen: I must to the king." With these words, he left the room.

The seriousness which this circumstance had for a moment called forth was soon dispelled by the efforts of the jester, who, with comic gravity, began a legal discourse on the stern Ribe-Ret, wherein he dwelt more particularly on a certain notorious and scandalous punishment, setting it forth circumstantially, and not exactly in the most becoming manner. He concluded with the well-known Jutlandic joke: "Thank God you are out of the way of the Ribe-Ret, my child; as the old woman said when she saw her son hanging on the gibbet."

Count Gerhard laughed till his eyes ran over, and screamed with pain from the wound in his breast, which his violent laughter had caused to open. He became suddenly pale, and fell back on his chair, without consciousness.

The greatest grief and trouble took the place of the previous mirthfulness. Message after message was dispatched for the surgeon and physician, and all present were seriously alarmed for the count's life. He was carried to bed, and Claus Skirmen undertook, in his master's absence, to tighten the bandages, and stanch the bleeding with wine.

Half an hour passed away: the count still lay insensible, and no physician had arrived. The knights were impatient, and the lanky jester behaved like one out of his wits. He tore his hair, and accused himself of having killed his master with his accursed jokes. The door at length opened, and Drost Peter hurried in. He had been already advised of the critical condition of his guest, and had hastened to his aid. He found the wound properly bound up by his expert squire and pupil. By means of a burnt feather, he at length succeeded in restoring the count to a state of consciousness; and, as soon as he had opened his eyes, the drost's mind was at ease, and he declared him out of danger. For the greater satisfaction of the stranger knights, and of his afflicted, inconsolable jester, Drost Peter sent his squire to the palace, to bring the king's surgeon. In the meanwhile, he desired that they should all leave the apartment, and remained alone with the sick man.

As soon as Count Gerhard had completely recovered his senses, and saw Drost Peter by his bed, he held forth his hand, and nodded. "It was the fault of your cursed Ribe-Ret," he said; "but I must not think more about it, or I shall laugh myself ill again."

"This is not right: you talk too much," said the knightly leech, examining his pulse with satisfaction.

"Ay, but it is right. Although you did not exactly dub me a knight today, you certainly did not dub me a speechless animal. But how got you on with the king and the carlin? Is she to be hanged, or buried alive for her womanly honour's sake?" He was on the point of renewing his laughter, but repressed his desire on feeling the smart of his wound.

"God be praised, she is saved this time!" said Drost Peter; "but with some difficulty: the king was not to be spoken with."

"Then you took her out of prison yourself? That was settling the matter in the right way."

"Nay, Count Gerhard. Rather than I should have dealt so contumaciously with the laws, the unfortunate woman had been left to her fate."

"What the deuce have you done, then?"

"I went to the queen--"

"Aha! I can understand. Happy knight! But why did you not allow me to crave a boon for the poor old creature? I have still a heart in my body, I know; and I should not have risen from the queen's feet, nor taken her hand from my burning lips, till the carlin had been saved, even had it been till gray in the morning."

"You talk too much for your wound, noble count; and you think on matters that do not tend to calm your blood. I shall now send my liberated nurse to watch over you; and, if you must still talk enthusiastically of beauty, talk so, in God's name, only before her: and sleep well."

So saying, Drost Peter left his merry, sick guest, and immediately afterwards a wrinkled old woman hobbled into the apartment, and sat down by the count's pillow; but he closed his eyes in vexation, and would not notice her.

It was midnight, and Drost Peter walked restlessly up and down his chamber. He had reassured his knightly guests, and left them to repose. But the royal surgeon had not arrived, and the jester would not believe that his master was out of danger. In a closet, by the side of the count's bed-chamber, sat the grave joker, listening at the door, to be at hand at the slightest disturbance he might hear. Drost Peter could not think of going to sleep. He was not, indeed, alarmed for his wounded guest, but still wished to be ready, at any moment, to go to his aid, should he be called by the nurse. His thoughts, besides, were in a tumult, that forbade him to think of repose. His adventure with Henner Friser and little Aasé, and his strong suspicion of the king's participation in the affair, disquieted him. The crafty Chamberlain Rané's escape, and the revenge he might, with reason, apprehend from this royal favourite, ran likewise in his thoughts. Deep suspicions of a conspiracy, of which he had in vain endeavoured to apprise the king, appeared to him now, in the night's loneliness, of greater importance, the more he dwelt upon it. His strife with Count Gerhard, and its occasion, also caused him the greatest uneasiness. The report, so injurious to his own and the queen's honour, which he had first learnt upon this occasion, troubled him more particularly; and he examined with scrupulous care the whole of the last year of his life, from the day he first held conversation with Queen Agnes, at Helsingborg tournament. He could not deny that her beauty and noble feminine graces, as well as her bold and resolute character, exercised a wonderful power over him. He owed, undeniably, to the queen's favour, his rapid rise from a simple knight to be drost of the kingdom; and, though it vexed him much, that he should, in consequence, be blamed as a fortunate adventurer, who had been raised to eminence through a woman's favour, these usual whisperings of envy were not of a nature to drown the voice of bold self-consciousness in his bosom. He was himself fully assured that he was perfectly competent for the high situation he filled, and that the royal house had not a more efficient servant in these dangerous times. Besides, his important vocation as tutor to the young Prince Erik, and as his master in the use of arms, gave to his life an activity, and a degree of importance both to himself and to the kingdom, that he could not regard without a degree of pride; and he entertained a confident expectation that, indirectly, the whole fate of a coming generation, and of Denmark, was in his hands. He stood on a lofty but dangerous eminence, near a tottering throne, and must take heed that he did not become giddy and fall. It was only necessary for some malicious foe to whisper in the king's ear what rumour said concerning the drost and Queen Agnes, to see him carried, within four and twenty hours, a prisoner for life, to the dungeons of Sjöberg, or, indeed, without law or trial, to the rack and wheel.

While these and similar distracting thoughts occupied his mind, a loud knocking was heard at the entrance of the apartment. He started involuntarily, but recovered himself, and opened the door. Astonished, he beheld his young squire, Claus Skirmen, standing, pale and breathless, on the threshold, with a parchment roll and two swords in his hands.

"What is this? What want you so late with me?" demanded the drost, hastily. "You are pale: has anything happened amiss? Say, youth, what is it?"

"Read, sir--read, and take your sword!" replied the squire, handing him the parchment and one of the swords.

He hastily seized both, and, going to the light, he turned pale on recognising the Gothic characters, and the king's well-known seal and signature.

"Deposed!" he said; "and not only so--condemned to secret imprisonment, without law or justice; and this to be carried into execution before the Dane-court commences! How came this unfortunate document into your hands, Skirmen? It is a royal private warrant. Carry it back, or it may cost thy life."

"It concerns your life still more, sir. When you are safe in prison, you are to be secretly murdered. I know it all: I have heard it with my own ears."

"Are you mad? Is it possible? Rané, then--"

"Right, sir. Chamberlain Rané procured this prison-warrant; the rest was hatched by himself and his good friends. He sat triumphantly, with this letter in his hand, in a company of topers at the palace, along with Duke Waldemar, Master Grand, Count Jacob, and all the gay company with whom we crossed the Belt. I was inquiring, by your command, for the king's own surgeon for Count Gerhard, when I was directed to the western wing of the palace. I had to go along the dark passage that leads to the duke's apartments. The door stood ajar, with only a tapestry hanging before it. I heard your name mentioned: I concealed myself behind the tapestry, and--"

"And you listened: come, out with it! Fair and honourable it was not altogether. And so you heard--"

"What I have told you, sir. Not, indeed, in clear and distinct words; but, by putting one with the other, I could plainly guess their meaning. You must be got rid of, it was said, and in such a way as that you could not come to light again, in case the king's humour should change. Above all, you are not to receive the least intimation of this, nor to be allowed to have any conversation with the king; and tomorrow betimes, or even to-night, you are to be seized, and secretly imprisoned."

"To-morrow--Trinity Sunday--before the court meets! So, so! But, since it is to be done so early, it shall be done this midnight. So long as I hold this scrap in my hand, time may be gained. It must now be decided who shall first speak with the king. I must ascertain where he sleeps tonight, and whether he has an ear for truth or falsehood on the morrow. But how did you obtain this hellish document? Could they be so careless as to slip the halter when they had it so nearly round my neck?"

"I did not quit my hiding-place till they had drank success to Duke Waldemar, Count Jacob, and Stig Andersen so often, that one might have pricked them all in the eye. I knew there was no danger to the wounded gentleman, but that there was to you, and I did not hesitate on remaining. Rané held out the longest before he got drunk; and they paid him great respect, on account of his relationship to Stig Andersen's wife, and because of his cunning in retaining the king's good opinion, whilst he still remained true to his friends and kinsmen. The duke having promised to procure him the rich Count Mindre-Alf's daughter, they already hailed him as future Count of Tönsberg; and thereupon he drank so deeply, that at length he was obliged to go out to obtain a breath of air, I was not seen; and, as I was alone with him in the dark passage, it was only the turn of a wrist to fling him on the ground, and take the letter from him."

"Then it was not me alone that this concerned? And Rané makes common cause against the king? Heard you aught of what should happen when I am murdered or in prison?"

"Ay, indeed, sir. Horrible things, concerning war, and rebellion, and aid from Sweden and Norway. But I only gave special attention to what referred to you. And, now, do not hesitate a moment, sir. If you will take to flight, our horses shall be saddled immediately."

"Nay, my brave Skirmen. You have never seen your master yield at tourney, nor yet at sharper fighting; much less shall you see him now give way. Here, indeed, I cannot defend my life and honour with this sword; but, if God wills, I will try another, that, without being a traitor to my country, I can use against my lord and king himself. My tongue must now be my sword, and righteousness my shield; now, it concerns not me alone, but the crown and kingdom. The revolt, it seems, is to be aided by Sweden and Norway. Now, then, I must to the king, even should the way to him lie amid serpents. But there must be quietness and vigour. Nothing can be done for three hours more. I will try if I can rest the while. This is now the third night that I have watched. Arouse me as soon as it is day."

"But, for the sake of security, shall I not quietly assemble the servant-men, and arm them?"

"That would be illegal, Skirmen. If I cannot gain life and liberty with justice, with injustice I will not. It is already so, when this blade is in my hand, instead of in the city-governor's. Still, this I will defend, before God and men. Good night."

With that tranquillity which only a pure conscience, strong determination, and utter contempt for his enemies could afford him, Drost Peter threw himself, in his clothes, upon his pallet. "Place the light on my shield, and do not extinguish it," he said to his trusty squire. "And now God guard me! I am weary."

The squire obeyed, and left the chamber. But he did not move three steps from the threshold. With his back against the door, he sat on the stone floor, that he might guard his master's slumbers until the dawn.

Scarcely had the cock crowed, and the first dim gleam of day entered the dark passage through a little grated window, when Claus Skirmen arose, and, opening the door of his master's apartment, he found him in a calm, deep sleep. The squire could scarcely venture to disturb him; but, hearing the sound of footsteps in the street, and the subdued clang of arms, he no longer delayed. "It is morning," he said, "and we are not the only persons who are awake. Resolve quickly, therefore, what you intend to do."

Drost Peter arose, and grasped his sword; but, recollecting himself, he hastily laid it down again. "Nay," he said, "this I will not take with me. No one can yet have legal authority to seize me. I shall venture to awake the king: it concerns his safety, as well as mine. You shall follow me. You can testify, on oath, to what you have heard?"

"That I can, sir. But, still, let us take weapons with us. Who knows what we may encounter? The governor's people are difficult to deal with; and Sir Lavé Little keeps guard at the palace with the halberdiers."

"Sir Lavé! Great God! my little Ingé's father! He was in the duke's train in Jutland, and I trust him not. Yet, perhaps this is fortunate. He was not with the traitors, then, last night?"

"No, sir; he must have arrived the day before yesterday, and entered with old Sir John. Last night, he mounted guard at the palace."

"If the prudent John can trust him, so can I. Come, let us leave the sword. The righteous God must now protect us."

Without farther deliberation, Drost Peter threw his large scarlet mantle about him, placed his feathered hat on his head, and went forth with a firm, determined step. The squire followed him in silence, after once more looking back dejectedly on the forbidden weapon.

To avoid creating an alarm in the house, Drost Peter and his squire went down the stone steps, and closed the door after them. The street was still and deserted. The faint twilight showed them the castle, at a little distance, lying gloomily behind the strong walls, whilst all around it appeared to be still in deep repose, except a few landsknechts, who kept watch outside the locked gate, and who paced backwards and forwards, with measured steps, their halberds and lances in their hands. Drost Peter and his squire approached the palace with rapid strides. The young drost had not omitted to take with him a token, which, by virtue of his important office, gave him a right to demand admittance into the palace, and to the king's person, at all times. This token consisted of a plate of gold, on which was impressed the royal seal, with the two crowns.

With this in his hand, the drost strode forward towards the outer sentinel, and passed the corner house in the broad King-street, when he found himself suddenly stopped, and surrounded by twelve armed burghers. A respectable man, with a large silver staff in his hand, stepped forward from among them, and said, with much seriousness, while he raised his staff: "Sir Drost Peter Hessel, the governor of the town takes you prisoner in the king's name. Be pleased to follow us."

"Not one step," replied Drost Peter, "until you show me my king and master's express order for this treatment."

"I can produce no written order," said the governor; "but that such an order was issued by the king yesterday, and taken from his chamberlain with cunning and violence, by your people, has been proved to me by the testimony of respectable persons. If you will not follow me willingly, you must excuse me if I employ force. Men, do your duty."

The armed burghers drew near to lay hands upon their prisoner. Drost Peter now held out, with an air of bold authority, the token, with the royal seal. "Know you that?" he demanded. "By virtue of my power and authority, as drost of the kingdom, I command you to follow me immediately to the king himself. Unless you can show me an order in the king's own writing, none of you shall dare to lay a hand upon me. If there should happen to be any deceit in this, and I cannot justify myself before the king, I am willing to follow you to prison, or, if the king commands it, to death. But, at present, you must follow me. I am still drost of the kingdom, and your master."

The determination and authority with which he spoke confounded the burghers, who looked at one another, and then at the governor, with perplexity. The latter, also, appeared to be surprised and undecided.

"According to the letter of the law, you appear to be right, sir drost," began the governor; "but what does it avail you to make all this disturbance? You know yourself, better than any one else, that you are deposed from office, and that we are obeying the king's express command. You will not aid your case much, by awaking him at the present hour, to hear your doom from his own lips. Besides, it is strictly forbidden to allow you to approach the palace."

"Not by the king, but by his and my deadly foes," interrupted Drost Peter, with vehemence. "You have allowed yourself to receive an illegal message from those who seek the king's life, and you will hinder me from warning him. If you would not be condemned as traitors to the country, and abettors of treason against the royal person, you will follow me instantly."

"God in mercy preserve us!" broke forth the terrified burghers, one after the other. "What shall we do, sir governor? You must answer for all. We know nothing--"

"If it be true, as you say, that the king's life is in danger," said the governor, hesitatingly, "who tells us, then, that you, yourself, are not a traitor? Appearances are much against you, sir drost. What want you at the palace, at this hour?"

"As you have heard: that which I still shall do, and which you shall not prevent. I will to the king, by virtue of my office, to warn him against traitors. No excuses, governor. Follow me instantly, or it may be as much as your life is worth." Without waiting for a reply, Drost Peter walked rapidly towards the palace, the frightened burghers respectfully giving way before him.

"Very well," said the governor: "we must follow him, if he still commands it; but farther than the halberdiers he shall not go. Take care, however, that he does not escape. And what have you to do with this, young man?" said he to Skirmen, who anxiously followed at his master's heels. "You, perhaps, would assist your cunning master in treating us like fools? Pack off! We have no orders to guard you."

"He will follow me, and you shall permit him," ordered Drost Peter, turning round: "whom I take with me to the king, I answer for."

The governor was silent, and they passed on. The palace sentinels, who knew the drost, objected not to open the gates, but did not deem themselves warranted to admit the burghers and the governor.

"Suffer them to enter on my responsibility--they belong to my train," said the drost.

The governor and burghers were admitted, and they now appeared to entertain a better opinion of their powerful prisoner, who ruled them all in such a wonderful manner. They crossed the court-yard of the palace to the northern wing, which the king himself occupied.

"If this is a mistake, sir drost," said the governor, in an under tone, as they ascended the castle-stairs, "and if I have been deceived by traitors, I entreat you, for God and Our Lady's sake, that you do not lead me and these brave men into trouble. We were acting as we judged best."

"Who gave you the right so to do, governor? You are to act according to law and justice, and not after your own or any other man's judgment. Still, this I know: that you have been deceived. Meantime, let one half of your people remain here on the stairs, that the king may not be disturbed with too much noise. Should the Chamberlain Rané, or any of Duke Waldemar's people, approach from the opposite wing, stop them here, on my responsibility. Do you understand me?"

"It shall be as you command, sir drost," answered one of the burghers, who, with six men, remained behind on the staircase.

The rest followed the drost and his squire to the guard-room. Here, the drost ordered the other burghers to take their station outside the door, with the same instructions, which they received without objection. He then, with his squire and the town-governor, walked into the large guard-room. Twelve knights, armed with long halberds, here guarded the door of the royal closet. Some paced to and fro, without the least noise, on thick woollen matting; others stood in gentle conversation, here and there, about the room. No one was seated: there was not, indeed, a single bench or chair in the apartment. The faint glimmer of a dozen expiring wax-lights blended with the gray dawn. The lights were placed on brackets, beneath bright shields; and, at one end of the hall, glittered the royal arms, on which two lions and two crowns were represented. Over the arms, suspended crosswise, were two variegated banners, in the centre of which the white cross of the national standard was, indeed, to be seen, but almost concealed by the numerous swords, stars, keys, crescents, anchors, wheels, and other arbitrary decorations and symbols that people were accustomed to see on the royal coinage.

When the door was opened, the trabants raised their halberds, and looked with surprise on the intruders.

"The drost--the young Drost Hessel!" said one to the other, saluting him respectfully.

"What brings Drost Peter Hessel here so early?" demanded a man, advanced in years, stepping towards him with a singularly undecided and uneasy countenance, whose frequent changes did not inspire confidence. Like the other knights, he wore a high trabant's cap, with a large plume of feathers, and carried a long halberd, more richly ornamented. At his breast hung a magnificent gold chain, and his short mantle of red lawn was adorned with jewels.

"It may well surprise you, stern Sir Lavé, to see me here at such an unseasonable hour," replied Drost Peter, regarding him with a sharp and penetrating glance; "but, in the execution of my office, I have an important and private matter to lay before the king, and must needs speak with him without delay."

"An important and private matter!" repeated Sir Lavé, changing colour. "I know not that there is any sedition in the town, sir drost; but, even were that the case, I dare not awake the king thus early, so long as the palace is secure and well guarded."

"But, if there should be at this moment secret traitors within the walls of the palace, stern sir knight?" said the young drost, in a half whisper, without taking his keen look from Sir Lavé's disturbed countenance.

"The rood shield us! What is it you say?" whispered the chief of the body-guard, grasping him convulsively by the arm, and drawing him to one side. "From your future father-in-law you can have no secrets, my young friend," he continued, in a soft and trembling voice. "If you think you have discovered a conspiracy, or anything of the kind, inform me, that we may avert the mischief in time. But the thing is impossible. If, however, any of the discontented vassals should have dropped a word that may appear suspicious, consider well what you are about, before you take upon yourself the hateful office of accuser, and, mayhap, bring into mischief brave men, who have only regarded the present posture of affairs with greater freedom. Have you proofs against any one?"

"That I may not say here," replied Drost Peter. "Our private relations, sir knight, must give way to our public duties. I must simply request you to awake the king. That is your duty, when I demand it. In case of need, as you are aware, I do not require to be announced, and no one has a right to deny me admittance."

"That I have yet to learn, my bold young sir," replied the knight, assuming a stern and consequential air. "Those whom the king entrusts to guard his slumbers may justly demand to know why he is to be disturbed; and I and these gentlemen are commanded to keep guard, that no one, without due reason, disturbs the king's rest."

"This is not the time and place to dispute as to your rights," resumed Drost Peter, with suppressed vehemence. Perceiving the strained attention with which they were regarded by the body-guard, he continued: "Only one word in confidence, Sir Lavé;" and, as he withdrew the perplexed knight more aside, he said mildly, but with a tone of lively interest, "it would grieve me bitterly, Sir Lavé Little, should I be compelled to mention your name in connection with a confederacy, of which it is evident that your faithful friend, old Sir John, can have no idea, seeing the important post you at present occupy here. The company you quitted eight days ago were not friends of the royal house; but I am willing to believe, that, if you then shared their discontents, you do not yet take part in their plans, and that there is still time for you to draw back from an inevitable gulph."

"How? What plans? I do not understand you, Drost Peter. You will never accuse me for opinions that a free Danish knight may dare to express, without danger, among his friends?"

"I am no spy or secret accuser, who will bring you, or any brave man, into mischief for thoughts and opinions," replied the young drost. "I know nothing yet, God be praised, that should deprive me of the hope of one day calling you father. I know you were not at the secret council last night, that pronounced my doom, the more easily to compass the king's."

Sir Lavé paused, and became deadly pale. A struggle seemed to be passing in his unquiet soul; but he suddenly seized the young knight's hand. "Nay, nay," said he, "in this council I had neither part nor lot. Had I known that such was the intention, I should not have chosen my post by this threshold. You were, nevertheless, a dangerous man to me and my friends, yesterday, Knight Hessel," he continued, with greater resolution. "It depends upon me whether you shall be so to-day. Perhaps it depends on a single step over this threshold. I can forbid your entrance, and with justice. I have promised as much: whether I keep this promise, depends upon myself. At this moment you are no longer drost of the kingdom, and can have nothing to say here. I have seen a royal letter, by which you are deposed, and doomed to imprisonment, from the hour the cock crows after midnight. A conversation with the king may, perhaps, save you. If it only concerns your post and freedom, I would, without hesitation, cause you to be taken prisoner on the spot, by the king's command; but, if it concerns your life--if it is true--" He stopped abort, and gazed inquiringly on the young knight, who had changed colour, and stood as if thunderstruck.

"I tell you no falsehood," said Drost Peter, recovering himself. "At this moment you are a powerful man: you have, perhaps, my life, as well as that of the king, in your hand. But, whatever you may now do, you will have to answer for, before the righteous God, at your hour of death."

"Who are these two persons you bring with you?" demanded Sir Lavé.

"The town-governor, who was to conduct me to prison, and my squire, who was witness to this secret tribunal of blood. Should I tarry here a moment longer, it may be too late. My deadly foes watch under the same roof that now shelters us: they have the door of my prison, and of their den of murder, standing open--"

"Well, I will believe you," said Sir Lavé, with extreme uneasiness. "I would lend my aid to overthrow you; but your blood I will not have upon my head, and I stand not here to betray the life I guard. From this day forth, however, all engagements between us are at an end. Yet I was your father's friend. If I have saved your life to-day, remember it, young man, if, perchance, mine and my friends' lives should one day be in your hands." Tears stood in his eyes, and he grasped the young knight's hand almost convulsively. "I go to awake the king," he said, with more composure, and hastily entered the royal closet.

For some minutes, Drost Peter stood as if on burning coals. He heard loud voices without, demanding admittance, and recognised the shrill tones of Chamberlain Rané, who, in the king's name, ordered the burghers to open the door. The guards were surprised. Two of them hurried out into the passage, to learn the cause of the uproar. The door of the guard-room was again immediately opened, and Drost Peter saw Rané at the entrance, between the two guards.

At the same instant, the door of the king's closet was opened, and Sir Lavé Little stepped hastily over the threshold, and beckoned Drost Peter. With hurried steps he obeyed the signal. Sir Lavé locked the door of the king's closet after the drost, and ordered the guards to station themselves before it, without troubling themselves about the enraged chamberlain, who, insolently, and loud-voiced, stood in the middle of the ante-room, and accused the captain of the guard of having failed in his knightly promise, and of having transgressed the king's order.

"Whether Drost Peter has been improperly admitted at this door or not, we shall soon know," answered Sir Lavé. "So long as I have not the king's counter-order, it is my duty to admit the drost; but a chamberlain has nothing to do here at this hour, were he ten times the king's favourite. Be pleased to assist him out, gentlemen."

Three of the guards, with raised halberds, approached the enraged Rané, who gnashed his teeth, and left the guard-room, casting a look of vengeance at Sir Lavé.

Between the guard-room and the king's bed-closet was a large arched apartment, hung with gold-embroidered tapestry, with a round table in the middle, covered with scarlet cloth and long gold fringes. Here the king received those he would hold conversation with, and here the drost was obliged to wait for some time, until the attendant pages had assisted his majesty in dressing.

At the door of the royal sleeping-chamber stood a handsome youth, about eleven years of age, in the red lawn suit of a torch-page, and with a wax-light in his hand. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, while he admired, and regarded with respect, the tall, serious knight who had ventured to disturb the king's morning slumber. This page was the little Prince Erik's playmate, Aagé Jonsen. He was of the same age as the prince, and daily shared with him his martial exercises, and the various instructions in chivalry under Drost Peter's guidance. The youth's tender, almost maidenly features, were lighted up by the torch; and, as he thus stood, with his long golden locks falling over his linen collar, and his dark blue eyes resting, with respectful surprise, on his knightly teacher, the appearance of the friendly youth seemed to restore calmness to Drost Peter, and to fill his bosom with bold and lively confidence in his innocence and the justice of his case.

"Good morning, Aagé," he said, patting the lad kindly on the cheek: "have you been awoke too early this morning? You stand, indeed, as if you were yet dreaming. Is your little king still asleep?"

"Yes, dear sir drost. We were both much fatigued from wrestling with Junker^[13] Christopher yesterday evening; and I took the torch-watch. I remained awake here, by the door, the whole night; but towards morning I could not keep my eyes open, and, at the moment Sir Lavé came, the torch was nearly out. You are not angry with me, then, for this?"

"I know you are a bold, vigilant lad, who, otherwise, would not sleep when you should be awake, and that is an important matter, Aagé. These are times wherein one should early learn both to watch and pray."

"I have prayed, likewise," answered the youth. "I prayed to God and Our Lady, both for Prince Erik and you, for the queen, and all good men; but still my eyes closed, and, had the king called me, I should have been unhappy."

"I shall give thee good advice, Aagé. When thou watchest by the king's door, or by that of the prince, never forget that murderers may be lurking without, who will break in and do violence as soon as thou closest an eye; and I warrant thee thou wilt keep thine eyes open."

"The rood shield us, sir drost! This is something that never can possibly happen: Our Lord and the Holy Virgin take care of that!"

"Truly they care for us, otherwise it would little avail if all the armies in the world guarded us," replied the drost; "but we are not, therefore, to live securely and carelessly in the world, much less a future knight and guardian of the king."

A clear sound, as of a silver bell, was now heard. The folding-doors into the king's bed-chamber were thrown open, and, by each, stood a page with a torch. Drost Peter stepped leisurely back to the end of the saloon; and little Aagé hastily lowered his torch towards the stone floor, and took some steps backwards into the saloon.

A tall, dignified person walked over the threshold, with short, uncertain steps. In his right hand he carried, like a staff, a large sword, of three fingers' breadth, and seven quarters in length, with a cross-guard, and gilded brass pommel. A short mantle hung loose over his shoulders. He paused for a moment, and cast a sharp, uneasy glance around the apartment, till, at length, his blinking eye rested for an instant on the queen's favourite, who respectfully saluted his majesty, and remained standing at a distance. The king now advanced a few steps, and, giving the pages a signal, they placed their torches in a brass frame, suspended at half-an-ell's distance from the tapestry, after which they made an obeisance, and retired backwards into the bed-chamber, through the half-open doors of which were seen four of the body-guard, with their bright halberds. The king advanced just as far from the door as was necessary to converse with the knight unobserved by his attendants.

"You dare to come into my presence, and at this hour, Knight Hessel!" he said, in a harsh and imperious tone. "You pretend, as an excuse, to have an important and private matter to lay before us, respecting the safety of our royal person. If you think, by such foolish pretexts, to obtain pardon, you are mistaken. Speak! but not a word about yourself. What do you know that affects our own and the throne's security?"

"I know, and can testify, sire," replied the young knight, frankly, "that you have slept this night under the same roof with men who, eight days ago, at the manor of Möllerup, took counsel, with the daring Stig Andersen, against the crown and kingdom."

"Prove it!" said the king, turning pale.

"I can, if you regard the worthy prior of Antvorskov, Master Martin Mogesen, as an upright and trustworthy man, and will rather believe his testimony than mine."

"Master Martin?" repeated the king. "Ay, indeed, he is true, and attached to me, and has never, by untimely artifices and crooked devices, sought to approach my throne. Is he present?"

"Nay, sire," replied the knight, with burning cheeks, and subduing, with an effort, his injured feelings of honour, where self-justification was denied him; "but he gave me a hint, which I am only half justified in revealing. You know his seal and handwriting, sire?"

"Right well: he was for three years my chancellor."

"Then read this letter, my stern lord and judge, and you will see that it was not to crave a boon I so urgently entreated an opportunity of conversing with you yesterday evening, and that it is not merely to vindicate myself that I stand here just now."

"Not a word about yourself! Silence, now!" The king read the letter hurriedly and anxiously, raising his eyes from it at times, and regarding the knight furtively and suspiciously. "Now, indeed, it is true that this was a highly suspicious meeting," he said; "yet, after all, they are only doubts and conjectures. There is no certain proof--no act for which I can cause any one to be punished. But where are the well-known names referred to here?"

"In my memory, sire. The document which contained them I was requested to destroy."

"Name them! They shall be imprisoned."

"To such violent measures it were far from me to advise you. Whom the law has not sentenced, my king will not condemn. I come not to accuse, but to forewarn. What Master Martin writes here, cannot affect the life of any one. It is only a hint, but still an important one, in these disturbed times."

The king made an uneasy and anxious gesture.

"The reverend gentleman admits that he knows more than he can venture to tell," continued the knight. "I can almost believe that some penitent confederate has disclosed to him, as confessor, what he dare not reveal. But all the individuals he mentioned to me as suspicious, he has talked with himself, and has vainly exhorted them to loyalty. With most of them I recently came over the Belt myself; and, although I am not yet prepared with proofs against any of them, I have, nevertheless, good reason to agree with Master Martin, and pray you to be on your guard with respect to the discontented vassals, and have your eye upon their entire conduct. The meeting at Möllerup is enough to warrant this. Your intimate Chamberlain Rané will be able to bear witness to that; for he himself was present."