Chapter XIII: Part II (4)

"'Tis well!" continued the marsk: "you have all approved. Now, lay your hands on the holy Gospels, and swear!"

He gave Master Grand a signal, and the ecclesiastic drew forth a large book, bound in black velvet.

"It shall be truly done, so help us God and his Holy Word!" said the dean, slowly and solemnly, laying his own hand first upon the Gospels.

The book then passed from man to man. After a violent internal conflict, which was visible in every feature, Sir Lavé also laid his trembling hand upon the book, and stammered out the oath. When it came to Rané's turn, he repeated the same words audibly and distinctly; but his lips continued to move after he had pronounced the oath, although none could hear what he seemed to add to it secretly. Thereupon he laid his hand upon the book, without farther hesitation.

"Unbind me--unbind me, my daughter Ingeborg!" cried the crazy old man, suddenly waking up, as if from a dream. "I will swear and bind myself, so that the Almighty above shall hear it, and all the devils shall shake and tremble!"

"Still, still, father! Remember thy promise," whispered Fru Ingeborg; while the marsk gave her a sign to lead out the unhappy old man.

But before any one could prevent it, he had torn asunder his bands with almost inconceivable strength, and stretched forth his liberated arms with a wild and fearful burst of laughter. "For ever, for ever doomed to perdition may I be, if I be not the first," he shouted, striking the Gospels with his clenched hand: "if old Pallé is not the first who strikes, I shall wander on earth till doomsday!"

Master Grand had nearly lost his hold of the book. The marsk again beckoned, and two knights led the crazy old man from the hall. A profound silence followed, during which the dean had recovered himself, and now stood with the Holy Book in his hand, before Fru Ingeborg. She bowed her head affirmatively, and, in a voice that penetrated the souls of all who heard her, repeated the oath they had all sworn, while she bent her knee, and touched the book with her wasted hand. She remained without changing her posture, and, at the marsk's signal, all the others silently withdrew. Involuntarily, as it were, the gloomy master of the castle stretched forth his mailed arm towards his unhappy wife, but again let it fall by his side. He hastily pulled a bell-rope, when Fru Ingeborg's waiting-maidens entered, and carried their fainting lady to her own apartments.

* * *

What had taken place at Möllerup was a secret known only to the initiated. The disguised strangers left the castle, one by one, at different times, and generally by night, as they had come. Even in the immediate neighbourhood, no one seemed to have been aware of this secret gathering. In the castle itself no change took place. The four mailed watchers were still constantly to be seen on the tower. The drawbridge, as usual, was kept raised; and, notwithstanding its numerous garrison, everything was as quiet and still as if the fortress had been waste and deserted.

The contract with Duke Waldemar had set the royal mind at rest; and the council of the kingdom did not appear apprehensive of any danger. The king and queen passed the beautiful summer at Scanderborg Castle, surrounded by their whole court, and the most considerable people of the country. Old Sir John, Master Martinus, and Drost Peter, had returned from Stockholm with good tidings concerning the object of their mission.

The negociations opened with King Magnus chiefly referred to a closer alliance between the two royal houses, by means of a double marriage. The little Danish Princess Mereté, who had been betrothed to the Swedish crown-prince, was to be sent to the court of Stockholm during the following year, where her education, according to agreement, was to be completed. In the same way the little Swedish Princess Ingeborg was to be educated at the court of Denmark, if the request were made. Her betrothment to the Danish crown-prince was concluded by a written document, but the public announcement of this alliance was to be deferred for a few years.

With lively satisfaction, the Danish ambassadors had beheld the little Swedish princess, whom they hoped would one day be Denmark's future queen; and even old Sir John, who did not expect to live to see the time, could not speak of the pretty kindly child without particular animation, as if he expected in her another Dagmar, who would bring peace and blessings to Denmark. This prudent statesman, as well as Drost Peter, placed all his hopes of better times for Denmark in the hopeful heir to its throne and his descendants. Old Sir John often sought to be useful to the young prince; and, with all his esteem for Drost Peter, he frequently shook his head when he saw how the young chivalrous drost desired to educate the prince's feelings of honour and justice to a degree that appeared to him dangerous.

One day the old knight was present, with the queen's household, at Scanderborg, to witness the prince's exercises in arms, and observed how he sought to convert these sports and exercises into gay and costly imitations of the ordinary jousts and tournaments; the young king, as he was always called, dispensing royal gifts to the squires, and pronouncing sentence with excessive severity on every transgressor of the laws of chivalry, as applicable to the game. The old counsellor smiled, and seemed to participate in the pleasure evinced by the queen and Drost Peter on the occasion; but, when the game was ended, he called the drost to his private room.

"I am old," he said, seriously, "but I do not think I am niggardly or avaricious, although I may set greater store by outward fortune than you approve of. It is right that the prince should be liberal and magnanimous; but do not therefore teach our future king to be a spendthrift, and to despise the wealth of his people and their possessions, like the dust on which he treads. Take care that he has not more regard for knightly pomp and splendour than for substantial power, true achievements, and real greatness."

"God forbid!" said Drost Peter. "But, if the days of the great Waldemars are to be restored--"

"Good, good. I know what you would say," interrupted the old knight: "therefore, if you would make a Waldemar Seier of Prince Erik, take care that his love of honour is not mere empty love of glitter, and his love of justice untimely obstinacy. He is a youth that, with God's help, much may be made of. You have a great charge, Drost Peter: consider it well. The swiftest falcon never makes an eagle. It is dangerous to attempt to create God's work anew; and he is a fool who tries to add a cubit to his own or another's stature."

So saying, he warmly pressed the hand of his young friend, and left him. The drost found him, afterwards, as lively as usual; and it did not appear that he cared farther about giving his opinion in the matter. Sir John's warning, however, disposed the drost to very serious thoughts, and he could not deny that the sagacious old man was right in many of his views.

The learned Master Martinus, too, with the tenderest zeal, took upon himself, in his own fashion, the education of the prince; but he endeavoured in vain to form him into a philosopher, or to teach him his dry, logical _Modos Significandi_. The prince had great respect for the learned chancellor, but was never better pleased than when he could escape from his Latin.

At Scanderborg, the merry, lively heir-apparent was most happy when engaged in games of chivalry with his active squires and pages, among whom the little friendly Aagé Jonsen was his dearest comrade. When, at such times, Junker Christopher would spoil the game by some wanton boyish trick, or cause division among the pages, the little king was always umpire; and his strict impartiality rendered him as much beloved by the young pages, as disliked by his quarrelsome brother. When his daily exercise in arms was over, it often pleased Prince Erik to take diversion on the lake at Scanderborg, where his skilful tutor, Drost Peter, had also taught him to steer a boat easily and safely, even when the waters were roughest.

Drost Peter's active participation in the affairs of government, as well as his care for the important crown-prince, forbade him almost to think of himself and his private affairs of the heart. But frequently, when boating with his pupil on the Scanderborg lake till late in the evening, he would fall into deep thought, while steering the little vessel in the direction of the light from the ladies' apartment, that, from a lofty turret, looked out on the waters, like Jomfru Ingé's chamber at Flynderborg. He would often, on these occasions, sit for hours in a kind of reverie, and steer for the distant light, without observing what was taking place around him, until a lusty squall or an uneasy tossing of the boat brought him to his senses. At times, when in these reveries, he would suddenly start up and reproach himself with his forgetfulness, when the daring Prince Erik had made a hazardous alteration of the sails, and, by so doing, had embroiled himself in a violent dispute with Junker Christopherson.

The king's chief amusement was hunting, of which he was passionately fond, and for which he frequently neglected the most important state affairs. Chamberlain Rané was still his constant favourite. The crafty chamberlain was often absent on secret errands; but these appeared to have reference merely to the usual love affairs, or to miserable adventures of the basest description, which were generally pursued in connection with the king's frequent hunting expeditions.

The queen did not appear desirous of knowing anything concerning them. Since the last Dane-court at Nyborg, she had become singularly reserved and serious; and though she still affected the splendours of royalty, and showed herself with dignity at court festivals, she no longer took any part in the dancing, and withdrew herself more and more from the pleasures of the court. She seemed now to prefer the quiet, retired country life of the beautiful castle of Scanderborg, where she partly busied herself with useful occupations. Sometimes, when the king's absence embarrassed his advisers, the prudent queen would take his place in the council; and, on such occasions, all admired the delicacy with which she conducted the business, and avoided every appearance of assumption, while she sought to maintain the dignity of the throne, and to promote every plan that could alleviate the burdens of the people, or quench the still smouldering embers of sedition. With Drost Peter she conversed with favour and confidence, but with remarkable attention to the strictest forms of court. She never spoke to him except in the council, or in the presence of old Sir John, when she had anything of importance to say to him in reference to the prince's education.

Notwithstanding the increased admiration with which he now regarded the fair and prudent queen, he felt, in her presence, as if bereft of his usual freedom and liveliness. But his heart did not take the same warm share in this admiration, as when, acknowledged as her knight and distinguished favourite, he wore her colours. When he now beheld her in her scarlet robe, and with a diadem of rubies in her dark hair, he still, indeed, thought her beautiful and majestic; but the tall and noble Jomfru Ingé, with all her simplicity, was, in his eyes, far more dignified, and the crimson hair-band in her golden locks far more beautiful than the glittering diadem of the queen.

Notwithstanding the king's partiality to Rané, he always reposed the greatest confidence in Drost Peter, on whom he had bestowed many honourable proofs of his favour, especially since the drost's important and successful undertaking respecting the duke's imprisonment, and after the contract with that dangerous nobleman, who had ever since remained quietly at his castle in Sleswick. No royal letter of any importance was issued which was not signed and sealed by Drost Peter, Sir John, and the learned chancellor; whilst many important Ordinances were prepared by the drost alone; and he was justly regarded as one of the king's most influential and favoured men.

The king had often proposed to visit Drost Peter at his ancestral castle at Harrestrup, where deer-hunting, especially in autumn, was excellent. This visit of honour was fixed for the month of September, and the drost made sumptuous preparations for the reception of the king and his court. But, on account of one diversion or another, the visit was postponed from week to week. The month of October passed away; and the drost began to think that the king had either forgotten it altogether, or intended to defer it until the following autumn.

It was already the middle of November, but the autumn did not seem willing to give way to winter, and the many-coloured leaves had not yet all fallen in the woods. One morning, Drost Peter was surprised with a message from the king, brought by Chamberlain Rané, that his majesty would pay him a visit, next day, at Harrestrup, and amuse himself for eight days in hunting. Sudden resolves of this nature were not unusual on the part of the king, especially when they had reference to hunting expeditions, and were verbally announced by the chamberlain.

Although it was unpleasant for Drost Peter to receive Rané's announcement, delivered, as it was on the present occasion, in a somewhat authoritative manner, he still behaved courteously, and left Scanderborg without delay, to prepare everything to the king's wishes, and that he might, on the following day, receive him at his castle in person, with that respectful distinction which the forms of court-life demanded. He heard with pleasure that Sir John would accompany the king, and that Sir Rimaardson would remain at Scanderborg, as captain of the body-guard, with the queen and the young princes.

From Scanderborg to Harrestrup Castle, by the tortuous and uneven road, was a distance of above ten miles.[29] It was somewhat advanced in the morning when Drost Peter left the palace, attended merely by his squire, Claus Skirmen, who had a second horse with him to change on the way.

The drost rode so rapidly, and was so much engrossed in his own thoughts, that his squire several times began and broke off a conversation in which he could not bring his master to take the least interest. It was somewhat past noon when they caught sight of an eminence, of considerable height, at no great distance from Harrestrup, which, from the south and west, can be seen at a distance of four miles, and may be known by the blueish haze, arising from the adjacent morass, that almost invariably covers it.

"Seest thou Daugberg-Daas, Skirmen?" asked Drost Peter, pointing to the hill, as he drew up, and dismounted to change his horse. "Six miles have been got over quickly. We may easily reach Harrestrup before evening."

"We shall get to Harrestrup time enough," said Skirmen, as he sprang from his norback and brought his master the other horse. "Would that we may be only as fortunate in leaving it, sir!"

"How so, Skirmen? Thou art not wont to be so reflective. What has happened to thee? Thou seemest rather downcast."

"Nothing is the matter with me," replied Skirmen, holding the stirrup for his master, "if nothing is the matter with yourself, or, perhaps, with the king. You may believe me or not, as you choose--but all is not right. 'Tis true, indeed, they were so drunk that they could not see a fly on the wall; but a drunken man's jabber is not always to be despised. In our old ballads it is often said, that wisdom may be learnt in the song of birds, when it is understood. People, however, are not so wise now-a-days; yet still I think I can guess what the cock crowed this morning."

"Art thou crazed, Skirmen? I cannot understand a word of this."

"That, in sooth, is not my fault, stern sir," replied Skirmen, mounting his horse, and riding on by his master's side. "For five long hours you have not cared to listen to what I have been telling you, but have allowed me to speak to the wind. Trust me, something will come of this journey to Harrestrup. Did you not perceive how glad the crafty chamberlain was, when you rode off? Did you not mark how eagerly he repeated, that the king would meet you at home like a careful host, I and that you were not, on any account, to ride out to meet him to-morrow?"

"Ay, truly: but that is merely a curious whimsy of the king's."

"But none can better lead the king to your abode than yourself, sir. And is it not singular that you should be sent off beforehand, dancing to the chamberlain's pipe--you that are both a knight and a drost?"

"No childish vanities, Skirmen. I must obey the king's message, whoever brings it to me. I find nothing more remarkable in this than I have heretofore discovered in your sage suspicions respecting certain grayfriar monks, and hens, and Rypen burghers. If the king will visit me, it follows, as a matter of course, that I must be at home beforehand, to receive him becomingly. Sir John accompanies him, with his trusty jagers; and the country around here is perfectly quiet and secure."

"How know you that, sir? No one can tell where Niels Breakpeace is; and the algrev is constantly cruising on our coasts; to say nothing of the marsk, at Möllerup."

"He is a knight, and not a highwayman; and Niels Breakpeace is no general. A prudent robber will never rub against the king's arm; and no pirate will venture within the coast-guard. So long as Sir John and I are not afraid of highwaymen or rebels, you may make yourself quite easy, my good Skirmen."

"But have you not heard of the numerous grayfriar monks at Rypen?"

"Are you there again, with your monks? Why, there are plenty of them everywhere."

"But they are not wont to ride about in troops, and during the night; and if, as people say, they have swords and knights' harness under their gray cloaks, it is not on God's service that these good gentlemen have sneaked into monks' habits."

"Who told you this?" inquired Drost Peter, with more attention.

"The three men from Rypen, who yesterday desired to speak with the king--they whom the king told, through Chamberlain Rané, that he had something more to do than listen to their stupid quarrels: it was on that account they were so angry. When I met them at the tavern, in the evening, they were completely drunk; but this much I could gather from their conversation--that it was not for nothing they had seen three suns in the heavens--"

"Sheer twaddle, Skirmen! Drunken people can see as many suns in the heavens as there are stars."

"Many sober people have also seen the same, sir. It betides a great misfortune, they said, and they could reveal things of great importance to the king. But he must now take care of himself, since he was too proud to speak with honest burghers."

"Ay, this is the loyalty now-a-days," exclaimed Drost Peter, indignantly: "when a man is offended, he bids his king and country a good day. If you thought there was anything more than vile superstition and silly braggadocia in this ale-gossip, why did not you inform me immediately?"

"You were, with Sir John, in attendance upon the queen and the princes, sir; and I did not wish to raise a blind alarm, on the instant, about such loose talk. The Rypen burghers seemed as if they would take their ease for some days at the tavern, and this morning I was there betimes to meet them sober; but they had disappeared overnight, it was said, and no one knew what had become of them. I could not get speech of you this morning, on account of the chamberlain, and your many distinguished visitors; and ever since you mounted your horse, you have not listened to one word of all I have already told you--not even about the handsome cock with the necklace."

"Enough. To what does all this trifling tend? How can you imagine that I have leisure to think of your cock and his battles?"

"But what if it should be the same bird you so much admired at Flynderborg?"

"Flynderborg?" repeated Drost Peter, starting: "who talks of Flynderborg? Was it not at Scanderborg the marvellous cock was to be seen, that gained the victory over all the rest?"

"Truly, sir; but it came from Flynderborg, nevertheless: it is the selfsame bird respecting which you held such fair conversation with Lady Ingé, when she stroked his wings in the garden, on the hillock near the strand. I stood by, and ventured not to interrupt you. You had just been talking of Hamlet's cunning, with his charred wooden hooks,[30] and with the gad-fly and the straw; and Lady Ingé thought that her watchful bird had been a better sign of warning against treachery and danger."

"And this bird, you say, is now at Scanderborg?"

"There is no doubt that it is the same: I made the discovery this morning. You may remember the fowler from Zealand, who, one evening lately, forced his way to you into the palace, and wanted you to look at his hens? You closed the door against him, and thought him a simpleton. I, too, thought the man crazy, when he ran away, and let loose his best cock in the court of the palace. It first occurred to me this morning that the brave pugnacious bird was an old acquaintance. The falconer had caught him, for the sake of a crimson pearl-band he had about his neck. I procured the band, and certainly think I know it. You may, perhaps, know it yourself, sir." So saying, he drew forth a crimson riband, wrought with pearls in the form of a few white flowers.

With blushing cheeks Drost Peter recognised Lady Ingé's hair-band. "Let me have it," he said, eagerly; "it is mine." He pressed it closely to his lips, then concealed it in his bosom, and, setting spurs to his horse, rode on in the strangest frame of mind. He felt himself happy beyond measure, yet at the same time disquieted and uneasy.

But the joyful hope awakened in his breast by the possession of the band, did not long sustain him. The mysterious warning, and the summons to vigilance, associated with this fond memorial, had, to him, a signification that almost forbade him to think of himself and his affection. What the patriotic maiden intended to communicate to him, by this mysterious symbol, appeared to him to have reference to the crown and the royal house alone. He suddenly checked his horse, and reflected whether he ought not at once to ride back to Scanderborg, and accompany the king himself on the following day, or, rather, induce him to abandon the visit entirely. But when he considered how absurd such a course would appear to the king and his court, and the ridicule to which it might expose him, he relinquished the thought, with a smile at his own credulity.

Skirmen, in the meantime, had overtaken his master.

"Well, now," said the drost, "the cock may still be right. We shall be cautious; although, as the king travels with a considerable retinue, there is no rational ground for apprehending any impending danger. I shall, however, ride to meet him to-morrow, and follow him through the wood with my people. At Harrestrup he can be safer than at Scanderborg itself."

"I think with you," replied Skirmen: "at present, indeed, nothing farther can be done. But that there are night-birds in the moss, I certainly believe."

They now rode on thoughtfully, and in silence. The night was beginning to darken as they passed Daugberg Church, and they continued their course northwards towards the town, through a long valley between considerable heights, wherein deep pits had been formed by the important lime-stone quarries. The dark green, newly-sprung winter corn grew on the heights, between heaps of stones and half-fallen groups of trees. The sight of this wild, picturesque spot awoke many youthful memories in the mind of the drost, and dissipated his uneasy thoughts.

"Here have I often played at robbers in my childhood," he said: "little thought I, then, that I should now be riding here in this serious mood."

"Look, sir!" said Skirmen, riding close up to his master: "see you not something twinkling, and in motion, in that great gloomy pit?"

"Are you dreaming of robbers?" inquired the drost. "I see nothing."

"Now, also, do I see nothing," replied Skirmen; "but the pit is full seventy ells deep--it could conceal a whole band."

"The place is well suited for such fellows," observed the drost; "but hitherto, this spot has been secure enough. My brave warden Tygé is not to be trifled with. Do you see the old wheel on Daugberg-Daas? It still stands there, as a grave warning to rievers and highwaymen. The wood would better suit such gentry; but, there, old Henner Friser is on the outlook."

"Henner Friser!" repeated Skirmen, in astonishment: "is he here?"

"It is true, indeed. You should not have known it, Skirmen; but you can be silent. You may remember that he killed a royal squire in self-defence; and, to be out of the way of trouble on that account, he is attached to one of my hunting-seats."

"Which, sir? That of Finnerup?"

"Well, then, since you have guessed so much, he resides there. But you must be silent on the subject."

"I understand you, sir," replied Skirmen, highly delighted: "I shall take care not to bring the brave old man and the pretty little Aasé into trouble. But had they not better leave the hunting-seat for the next few days? How easily the king and his huntsmen might discover them! And, should that cursed coxcomb, Rané, meet them--"

"Skirmen," replied the drost, "you are more circumspect than I. To-morrow, betimes, you can ride over and warn them."

"Thanks, sir, thanks!" exclaimed Skirmen, jigging gaily in his saddle.

They now entered a little plantation of young beeches and poplars. Twilight descended, but they could still see the tall white trees.

"I scarcely know my little Kjælderriis again," said the drost: "see how proud my poplars are grown."

"However good a look-out Henner Friser may keep, there are still poachers enough here," said Skirmen. "I heard the twang of a steel-bow just now; and--do you not hear that rustling in the thicket there?"

"Nonsense, Skirmen. It is my poplars, rustling me a welcome," replied the drost, "or a startled roebuck among the leaves. The rascals, however, should not be admitted here," he added: "probably the fences are not in good condition."

They were soon out of the plantation, and then rode through a deep dale. The last glimmer of day still lighted up the brow of a considerable hill, which rose nobly from the valley. Harrestrup Castle lay before them, on the smooth and almost circular summit of the height. The castle was small, but so well fortified by nature that it required no artificial trenches; and its steep; lofty walls and buttresses seemed inaccessible to the most daring assailants. The entire castle appeared to consist of a single round tower, built of bricks and hewn stone. It was approached only by a steep and narrow pathway, which the tired horses had some trouble to ascend; the road, at every step, becoming narrower and steeper.

Drost Peter and his squire at length dismounted, and led their horses over the most difficult spot, between two steep gullies crossed by a small drawbridge. As usual in time of peace, the bridge was down. At length the travellers stood by the castle-gate, which was closed. High over Drost Peter's head, on the summit of the wall above the gate, waved a large banner, adorned with the armorial bearings of the master of the castle--three parallel descending bars, _gules_ on a field _d'or_.

"You have brought the horn, Skirmen," said the drost: "blow a merry stave, that they may know we are here."

Skirmen carried a curved golden horn in a band over his shoulder. He set it to his lips, and blew the commencement of the air of the merry old ballad about Sir John, who took the bride from her loutish lover.

This signal was immediately answered from the tower by a brisk, youthful voice, which sang the burden to the well-known song:--

"Bind up your golden helmet--
Bind up, and follow Sir John."

"Is it you, stern sir?" then inquired the voice from the wall.

"Ay, truly. Open, Tygé," replied the drost; and the great iron-studded door was instantly opened, and Drost Peter was received, with hearty pleasure, by his bold young warden and a numerous band of house-carls, all active young men, and, as was the warden, armed with round steel caps and bright halberds. A number of grooms and torchbearers also pressed forward to see and salute their master.

Drost Peter shook hands with his warden, patted some of his house-carls on the shoulder, and nodded kindly to them all.

"Is everything in order?" he inquired. "To-morrow the king will be here."

"Came a kaiser himself here, sir," answered the warden, "you would not be ashamed of your house. Dorothy has had the waxlights placed, and the tables covered, these two months. The whole castle has been cleaned, and is as bright as are our halberds. The pantry is full of choice viands, and the cellar of prime ale and sweet wine. If the king should stay the whole winter, he will not have to lick his fingers."

"And the hunters, the hounds, and the falcons?" inquired the drost.

"They are fleet and well-trained. You shall get honour by them, sir."

"One thing more, Tygé. Is the neighbourhood secure? Are there no poachers in Kjælderriis, and no loose and suspicious people in Daugberg quarries?"

"Why should such an idea enter your thoughts, sir? Beggars and tinkers pass by here now and then: we give them bread and meat in God's name, and they touch not a rabbit in the woods, nor a feather in the hen-house. If the district were unsafe, we must have heard of it. No thief or robber may venture near Harrestrup Castle, so long as your banner hangs over the gate. Have you perceived anything, sir?"

"Not I. It was only a fancy that seized Skirmen on the road."

"What, Claus Skirmen!" exclaimed the lively warden; "when wert thou wont to have old women's fancies?"

"If you will trust me with half a score of house-carls, sir," said Skirmen, quickly and decidedly, to the drost, "I shall yet perhaps, before you go to bed, show your confident warden that I have not had old women's fancies."

"Well, if you have a desire to see a little about you, you may have ten carls, willingly. If you do not break your neck in the pits, you must be here again before midnight. The moon rises late: have you torches?"

"They are not required," said Skirmen: "the darker the better. On foot, we can find our way blindfolded. Take good care of my norback, lads. I shall have none of you with me but you, nimble John, and you, warder Soeren, and you--" And he thus selected ten of the most active house-carls, and hastened from the gate with them, whilst the grooms led the horses to the stable.

Drost Peter accompanied the castle-warden across the court, and up the stone steps, to the dwelling-house.

Before the young master of the castle partook of either rest or refreshment, he inspected the whole arrangements. He found everything in the best order, and prepared sumptuously to receive the king and his train. Drost Peter's old nurse, the careful Dorothy, with a broom and dish-cloth in her hand, bustled towards him from the kitchen, and, in her extreme joy, would have embraced him. She was not a little proud of having been entrusted with the entire management of the domestic affairs of the castle. She wept with joy at the proud thought that she should be hostess to the royal party; and it was to her an honour without parallel, to be reigning queen of the kitchen and pantry on so important an occasion--the crowning event of her life. She dragged her young master about with her everywhere, to show him all the choice arrangements she had made for the convenience of the king and his great lords, and was inexhaustible in explaining to him how she had prepared for every hour of the day, so long as the royal visit should last.

"Good, good, my dear Dorothy," said Drost Peter, at length, somewhat impatiently, and patting her kindly on the shoulder: "you have done everything excellently. I do not understand these matters, but I well know that you care for the honour of the house, as much as if you were my wife."

"Ah, dear young master," replied Dorothy, kissing his hand, "when shall I have the heart's joy of seeing you cared for and received by a pious and handsome young housewife in the castle here? You truly deserve that one of God's dear angels should come to you. God's blessing rests here, and, like the prosperous Joseph, you are, next to the king, the first man in the land; and, I dare be sworn, should Potiphar's wife tempt you--"

"Enough, enough, Dorothy," exclaimed Drost Peter, interrupting her, and blushing. "I do not doubt your good opinion of me."

"Ah!" continued Dorothy, "but what avail you honour and fortune, my dear young master, when you live in this way, like a lonely bird in the world. Trow me, fair sir, it is not good for man to be alone. So my blessed husband always said, God gladden his soul! He banged me well at times, the blessed creature, when he did not get warm hashed meat to supper--it was always a favourite dish of his--and every mortal has his weakness; but he was still a good sort of man, and as pious as an angel, after he had his supper. Ay, ay; everything in the world is transitory. My happy days have gone by; and now I have no greater joy than to see you comfortable, my dearest young master; and could I once see my good Peter Hessel married, and rock his children and his children's children in my arms, I should willingly close my old eyes, and bid this weary world good night."

So saying, she wiped a few tears from her withered cheeks with her kitchen-apron, without noticing warden Tygé's dry remark how much she would be beyond a hundred years of age before all her wishes were fulfilled.

"But come in now, my dear master, and take something to live upon," she added, going before him to open the door: "you are famishing, God help me, in your own house, and in the midst of all God's blessings." So saying, she ran back, and drew him with her into the clean, polished day-room, where she compelled him to sit down, while she busied herself about his refreshment.

Drost Peter had still much to say to his warden; and having at length prevailed on Dorothy to go to bed, he remained alone with Tygé in the apartment. He then made inquiries into the condition of his estates and his subordinates, during which some hours elapsed.

The warden had gone out to inspect his people, and had again returned.

"It is late, Tygé," said the drost, with a feeling of weariness: "what has become of Skirmen? It is time all were retired to rest. Before daybreak we must ride to meet the king, with our boldest swains. You have taken care that they hold themselves ready to start betimes?"

"The knechts are already as sound asleep as stones," replied the warden; "but this is not according to my way of management. Three of the carls who should have kept watch to-night, followed Skirmen, and their posts stand vacant. This is sad irregularity, sir drost: it has never happened to me before, and you must graciously excuse me. It is strange enough, sir, but we two are the only souls awake in the castle. Our house-carls are, at other times, brave and sober fellows; but, out of joy at your return, they have all looked a little too deep into the ale-can, and have tapped the German tun."

"What? have you German ale in the castle?" inquired the drost, much displeased. "That, you know, I have strictly forbidden: it is contrary to the king's orders, which I and my people ought to be the first to obey."

"I have said so, stern sir; but it was on Dorothy's account: she would not let me have either peace or quiet until I had brought her a couple of barrels from Viborg. Without German ale, she thought it would be impossible to entertain the king's people becomingly, even if the king had ten times forbidden it. If he himself and his people thought good of it, there would be no sin in it, she argued."

"'Tis like her," said the drost, smiling; "and it must be so for the present; but to-morrow, betimes, let every drop of it run down the drain, whether Dorothy be sour or mild."

"It shall be done, sir; but for the sake of peace in the house, had you not better inform her of it, yourself? What now is this?" he continued, listening: "I fancied I heard a creaking at the door of the riddersal. I thought Dorothy was sound asleep, but it would seem she is still bustling about. She is so zealous in her housewifery, that, at times, she gets up in the middle of the night, and dusts everything anew. It will be a God's blessing, however, if she does not get crazy with joy at all this magnificence. But, if you will allow me, sir, I will just see if it be her."

Taking one of the lights, he proceeded towards the door of the riddersal; but before he reached it, it was softly opened, and a wild, shaggy face peeped in, but instantly disappeared, and the door was immediately closed again.

Drost Peter quickly rose, and the young castle-warden stood, as if petrified, with the light in his hand, in the middle of the floor.

"Death and misfortune!" he whispered: "Skirmen has gone off with the court-warder, and has left the gate open. For a certainty, there are thieves or robbers in the house. Let me rouse the house-carls? One does not know how strong the rascals may muster. I shall go through the kitchen, and do not open this door until I return." And as he spoke, he hastily placed the bar on the door of the riddersal.

"Well, make haste!" said Drost Peter: "if I saw aright, it was the bull's face of Niels Breakpeace. So, then, Skirmen was right."

The warden went quickly away, and Drost Peter stood alone in the apartment. He had drawn his sword, and leant upon it to collect himself and listen. He heard many voices in the riddersal.

"Is he here--is he here? how many are there?" inquired a number of low voices in the same breath.

"There are only two men, and the cursed drost is one of them," uttered a deep gruff voice. "Come, fellows: he shall not lead us into mischance again!"

They attacked the door violently, but the bar held fast.

"They have secured the door; but we can easily snap the bar," said the same harsh voice. "Run against it, lads. Let us break open the door--it yields!"

The bar gave way with a frightful crash, the door flew open, and nine wild, sturdy fellows, with Niels Breakpeace at their head, rushed in, with short battle-axes and shining daggers in their hands. Drost Peter retreated a few steps, and placed himself with his back against the wall, in a position where he could defend himself for a time, and keep the rievers at bay with his long sword. He looked at the wild fellows sternly.

"Are you such vile niddings," he cried, "that ten of you must fight against one? I see at least one man amongst you who has received the honour of knighthood from Denmark's king; and so far as I know, the stroke has not yet been washed from his shoulder with boiling water. Stand forth, Sir Lavé Rimaardson! You are the only one of these fellows with whom I can worthily do single battle for life or death. If there is yet a spark of honour in you, advance!"

Niels Breakpeace and his comrades did not appear to notice this challenge, but pressed forward to overwhelm their single antagonist.

"Out of the way, rascals!" shouted a vehement youthful voice; and a handsome fellow, with a red feather in his cap, and a wild, audacious countenance, sprang forward. "Whoever dares to touch the drost, save I, I cut down on the spot," he continued: "one to one, and ten to Satan! Come, Drost Peter Hessel! This is the second time we have met since you made me an outlaw in Denmark. On Vaarby Bridge I had a hindrance: had my brother's blood not been a little thicker than the water of the stream, you should never have crossed the bridge. We stand now on a greater bridge--one that leads from earth to heaven, or--hell, as it may happen; for here must either you or I bid this fair and pleasant world good night!"

With these words, he threw aside his battle-axe and drew his sword, which was of the same length as Drost Peter's; and, that he might not have any advantage over his antagonist, who stood bareheaded before him, he cast his feathered cap on the floor.

"Well, if it is to be a regular cockfight, I am quite willing," growled Niels Breakpeace; "but if you don't make quick work of him, Sir Bigsnout, I shall."

The coarse robber chief and his comrades laughed, well pleased, and formed a close circle round the two antagonists. There then began a warm and serious combat, but conducted according to all the laws and usages of chivalry. Placing foot to foot, they swerved not a hair's breadth from their positions. Neither of them used the point of the sword, but hewed with the sharp edge, and aimed only at the head and breast, or between the four limbs, as it is termed. The single light on the table only partially illumined the apartment; and the clashing swords of the knights met so quickly, that a glimpse of them could scarcely be caught. Every instant threatened a mortal blow to one of them; but they both appeared equally skilled in their weapon, and neither of them could succeed in wounding his adversary, though, like constant lightning, their blades flashed over their heads.

"Shall I put an end to the game?" growled Niels Breakpeace, raising his broad battle-axe.

"By Satan! are you invulnerable?" shouted the robber-knight, springing impatiently towards his antagonist, and, contrary to the rules, with a daring and dangerous lunge. But at the same instant the sword fell from his grasp to the floor, together with the first three fingers of his right hand.

"Now, you shall never more swear falsely to your king and knighthood!" cried Drost Peter, enraged.

"Cut him down, the Satan!" shouted the furious robbers, pressing in upon the drost, who, with his back against the wall, defended himself desperately.

He had already received some wounds, and was bleeding freely, when the kitchen-door flew open, and warden Tygé rushed in, with half a dozen half-intoxicated house-carls. They came staggering forward to assist their master, and a sanguinary battle commenced with daggers and axes. The robbers had still a great advantage over the reeling house-carls, who could scarcely distinguish friend from foe. With wild shouts they tumbled among one another, and Drost Peter and Tygé alone fought with deliberation and security; but they were nearly overwhelmed, when a noise in the court and the sound of a horn were heard.

"Skirmen!" joyfully exclaimed Drost Peter and Tygé at the same time, and their blows fell with redoubled energy.

The robbers, taken by surprise, retreated with their crafty leader towards the entrance of the riddersal; but, in the next moment, the shattered door was entirely driven in, and Skirmen rushed to his master's aid with ten active house-carls, two of whom had some trouble in restraining the fury of three men, whom they guarded, bound, between them. After a short but desperate resistance, the powerful Niels Breakpeace and his comrades were disarmed and bound. They cursed and vociferated furiously; but, at the drost's command, they were immediately led off to the tower-prison.

Lavé Rimaardson still lay, with his hand mutilated, on the floor. The proud young robber had been for some moments without consciousness; and, when he now recovered his senses, he learnt what had happened, and found himself bound, and in the hands of his enemies. Drost Peter was about to bind up his wounded hand; but he instantly sprang up, tore away the bandage with his teeth, glared wildly around him, and would not suffer it to be dressed, cursing his limb, and conducting himself so furiously that it was requisite to use force with him. As soon as his hand was bandaged, his feet were set at liberty.

"Attend to him closely," said Drost Peter, as the warden was dragging him, struggling, from the door. "Give him the best prison, and good fare. A great man may yet be made of him; and although his life is now in the king's hands, I shall rejoice if he can be saved from the wheel."

"Drost Peter Hessel," exclaimed the young robber, pausing on the threshold, in an attitude of defiance, "I hate you to the death; but you are a brave fellow, and I should not be ashamed of falling by your hand. If you can save me from the wheel, do so. But not for my sake: I can die on a wheel, in the open air, as easily as on a wretched bed. But I have a brother--and I bear a noble name:--you understand me?"

He paused, and a convulsive motion of the muscles around his mouth betrayed feelings for which he instantly seemed to blush, as he strove to control them. "Bear in mind that I am your fair queen's kinsman, and, perhaps, a little allied to yourself," he added, with a bitter smile. "But think not that I am afraid of death; and expect no thanks from me, if you save my life!"

"Away--away with him!" cried Drost Peter, provoked by his coarse allusions, and the daring accusation couched in his words and haughty mien. "By a perjured and dishonoured knight, no honest man need feel affronted," he added, turning his back on the prisoner, as the warden thrust him out of the door.

"You are bleeding, sir," exclaimed Skirmen: "allow me to bandage you."

"All in good time," replied the drost. "I would first hear whether you deserve praise or censure. Did you withdraw the court-warder from the open gate, and suffer the robbers to slip in, in order that you might look after them?"

"If the gate was not locked after us, warden Tygé must answer for that, stern sir," replied Skirmen. "I did not trouble myself on that score. I led the carls to the great Daugberg lime-pit, and there found something of what we were in search: three unruly fellows we have fettered and brought with us, and as much gold and silver as we could drag. When we returned, we found the gate open, and instantly noticed the confusion. It was a God's blessing we returned in time."

"Thou art a smart youth, Skirmen," said Drost Peter, patting him on the shoulder; "I have seen thee fight like the best knight. The booty thou shalt bring to the king with thy own hands; and if he does not dub thee a knight, within a year and a day I will do it myself."

"Master! dear, good master!" cried Skirmen, with the utmost glee, and warmly kissing his master's hand: "if ever I deserve to be knighted, let it be by this hand! It will do me far more honour than such a king's--"

"Skirmen!" interrupted Drost Peter, sternly and gravely, "dost thou, too, dare to censure my king and master? Thou servest me at present: if, hereafter, thou shouldst be made a knight, thou wilt then serve the king and country; and no servant should despise his master."

"But can you in your own heart, then, noble sir drost--"

"I can be silent, where the heart cannot speak without making the tongue a traitor; and that is ever the case when it contemns majesty. Be thou now also silent, and bandage me. There was still hero-blood in the arm that gave me this wound," he added, sadly, as he bared his arm. "This wild Rimaardson fights well. God support his noble kinsman, when he learns what has happened here!"

Drost Peter, attended by his careful squire, then went to his bed-chamber, and everything was soon as quiet in Harrestrup Castle as if nothing had occurred.

Before daybreak next morning, Drost Peter, together with twelve smart house-carls, was already on horseback, and rode off to meet the king. The castle-warden and the remaining house-carls he left behind, to wash out the traces of the night's encounter, and to guard the prisoners, who were chained in the tower. Skirmen, with his master's permission, rode to the hunting-seat where Henner Friser and his granddaughter resided, to inform them of the king's arrival, and to attend to their security.

Drost Peter did not regard his wounds as of much consequence, and had not troubled himself about Skirmen's scruples, or his foster-mother Dorothy's inconvenient attentions. It was not until long after the conflict with the robbers was over, that the old lady awoke, and became aware of what had occurred, when, in her anxiety for her dear young master, she went and awoke him in the middle of his most refreshing sleep, to ascertain his actual condition; and, notwithstanding his order to the contrary, she kept watch at his door for the remainder of the night. In fact, it was not until she had seen him lively and active on horse back, that she found time to cross herself whilst lamenting over the sad havoc and confusion that pervaded her hitherto well-swept and polished apartment; and whilst she sought to remedy the disaster by the aid of brooms and scouring-cloths, she was doomed to the farther sorrow of beholding, on a fasting stomach, the pitiless Tygé tap the whole of the German ale into the sewer.

The sun had not yet risen when Drost Peter, with the twelve house-carls, rode by Daugberg quarries. He stopped to examine the spot, and inquired of the house-carl John, who had accompanied Skirmen, how they had managed to seize the three fellows, and to possess themselves of the immense booty.

"That I shall soon tell you, sir," replied the house-carl. "As we stood on this spot, we saw a light in yonder big hole. None of us had exactly a fancy to enter it; but the mad Skirmen outshamed us, and immediately crept into the mouth. We then took courage to follow him. The light must have been that of Satan himself, and we were certainly a hundred ells under ground before the steps ended. One could not see the other, and many of us came down on our faces on the confounded smooth limestone. We were, however, as still as mice, and I could hear porter Soeren breathing through his nose. Where Skirmen had got to, God only knows; but we suddenly heard a wild cry, and the noise and clash of weapons in the dark, a little way before us. We started forward after the sound, and I got hold of a long nose, and held fast; but to the nose there belonged a pair of sturdy fists, and I had a long struggle with the fellow before I got him on the ground. Porter Soeren had also his work to do with a fellow still stronger. One, Skirmen overpowered; and those who had not taken a robber, struggled with one another to their heart's content. At last Jasper Strongwind arrived with a lighted brand he had got hold of; and as soon as we saw how matters stood, and that we had got hold of all that were to be found, we bound them hand and foot, and resolved to empty the treasury; and then the job was done."

"The luck was better than the judgment," said Drost Peter; "but still, I must confess that Skirmen is a bold fellow. I should not like to imitate this adventure."