Chapter IX: Part I (8)

"It is impossible!" he stammered, in terror. "Protect me from this madman, sir drost, until I can myself defend my life and honour. You can bear witness that it is not I, but yourself, who have caused our present imprisonment."

"For what has happened here, this gentleman shall be answerable when we demand it," said Drost Peter, placing himself between Sir Lavé and the enraged Thorstenson. "The commandant, as you perceive, is unarmed, noble knight. Whatever may have been his conduct in this affair, he now stands sheltered by the laws of chivalry and my protection. Let us endeavour, with our united strength, to burst our prison-door. If we do not succeed, we must be patient until we can procure aid."

"You are right, sir drost," muttered Thorstenson, sheathing his sword; "niddings are never safer than when they go unarmed amongst honest men. Let us now make a rush at the door together, and it may give way. Put forth your strength, sir commandant, and let us see you do not spare your boot-heels. You can then say, for your honour, that you have fought with your heels."

Without answering this sarcasm, Sir Lavé, apparently with his utmost effort, together with the three other knights, applied themselves to the iron-studded door. The united shock made a fearful noise, which rolled like thunder among the arches of the lonely tower; but as the door turned inwards, and was provided with strong oaken posts, it was not to be forced open in this fashion.

Greatly embittered, Thorstenson went to the window-grating, and shouted, as if he would awaken the dead--"Up hither, fellow! or it may cost your master, the commandant, his life."

But there was no reply. The restless Sound roared loudly beneath, and no sign of a human being was to be seen on this side the tower, in the stormy, murky night.

In the meantime, Lady Ingé, in her father's absence, had taken care of the last-arrived guests, and invited them to the newly-furnished board. As soon as the duke and his followers observed that their cautious host had rid them of unexpected and disagreeable company, they relied upon his cunning, and resolved to await his return, or, at least, to remain quiet until Niels Breakpeace brought word that they might set sail. They had thrown aside their gray cloaks, and shown themselves, before their fair hostess, in their dress as knights.

The young duke, with politeness and princely grace, took his seat at table, and on the young hostess' left hand. Sir Abildgaard took Rimaardson's vacated seat; and the daring Norse freebooter stretched himself rudely on the chair where Thorstenson had been sitting.

The strangers had not announced themselves; but, on their entrance, Lady Ingé had heard Rimaardson's subdued exclamation of surprise--'The duke!' and she surmised, with secret dread, that one of them must be the, to her, hateful Duke Waldemar of South Jutland. Any other duke she had not heard mentioned; and what was told her of Duke Waldemar's ambitious and dangerous designs against the crown and kingdom, had inspired her with so unfavourable an opinion of this personage, that she had conceived as repulsive a picture of his appearance as was possible. When she heard him mentioned among her father's new guests, it inspired her with so much fear, that she had difficulty in concealing it; and, when her father left the room with the three other gentlemen, it cost her a great effort to fulfil, with apparent calmness, her duties as mistress of the house, towards these dangerous visitors, whose secret connection with her father filled her soul with painful alarm.

Reserved, and sparing in her words, she now sat at table among them, and only partially heard all the polite remarks which the duke and his drost strove, in emulation, to address to her. These two personages appeared to engross the smallest share of her attention, although their easy, unconstrained manners denoted them to be fine, courtly gentlemen. Their thoughtless countenances, and the trifling conversation in which they indulged, did not appear to her to indicate men who could be dangerous; and she deemed it impossible that, in either of them, she saw the daring duke. At the same time, she believed it certain that, in their companion, she beheld the hated pursuer of the king's life and crown. He had not yet spoken a word; but his sharp look, and bold and impudent features, betokened a craftiness and an audacity without parallel.

With politeness, but without interest, Lady Ingé replied to the duke's questions--whether she had ever been at court, whether she liked dancing and tournaments, hawking or chess, and how she amused herself in this solitary castle? She did not appear to notice the duke's admiration of her beauty, and his easy, flattering remarks thereupon to his drost. On the contrary, she gave closer heed to the short, stout-built personage at the corner of the table on her right, who was equipped, partly as a seaman, and partly as a knight of princely blood.

He had stretched himself, with vulgar carelessness, upon his seat, and his fierce-looking eyes ran round the hall, as if he did not feel himself quite secure, and, at the same time, had a contempt of danger. His broad, low, animal forehead, was indicative of energy and defiance; his short, crisped, sandy-coloured hair united with his matted beard, and concealed his brutish, almost hideous under-jaw. His wide mouth was greedily distended, and only half concealed two rows of strong, shining, white teeth. His wild, rolling eyes met almost close to his crooked nose, and lay deeply buried under a pair of bushy eyebrows. He ate rapidly, gnawing, with a species of ravenousness, the largest bones; while his sinewy hand often rested on a dagger-hilt, set with precious stones. Whenever he raised the cup to his mouth, which was not seldom, he drained it to the bottom. He appeared at length to have satisfied his hunger and thirst. His brown cheeks were heated and flushed with wine, and he began to cast lewd and impudent glances, now at Lady Ingé, and now at her handmaids, as if comparing them, in order to decide upon which his choice should fall.

"Now for pleasure, gentlemen," he broke forth at length, in a rough, harsh voice, and in a singing Norwegian pronunciation. "What signify your fine manners on a journey? and why stand the pretty wenches behind the lady's chair? Take you the demure flat-nose, sir drost; I will hold to the little roguish brunette; and thus we shall allow his grace to retain the high-born, proud damsel for his own share."

He seemed about to rise, and the two handmaids, frightened, retreated a step.

Lady Ingé was also alarmed, but she overcame her fear in an instant. The guest's impudence, and his rude tones, provoked her. From his foreign accent, she immediately knew that he was not the duke. With a contemptuous look towards the unmanneredly freebooter, she rose from the table, and turned, with calm dignity, to the other two gentlemen.

"One of _you_ must be the duke, then," said she; "and I am glad of it; though, as the daughter of a Danish knight, I cannot rejoice to see a man here who dares to revolt against the Danish crown. But, whichever of you may be he, I appeal to him to protect me from the insolence of that rude man, who is probably one of your grooms."

"Satan fetch the saucy minx!" exclaimed the pirate chief, laughing. "Take you me for a groom, proud maiden, because I do not relish fine talking, like these polite courtiers? When needful, I understand that art, too; and, spite of any one, not a queen shall think herself too good to sit at table with the Count of Tönsberg, or to embrace him."

"Recollect yourself, brave count," said the duke, in a tone of authority, and rising: "we are not on board, nor in a tavern, but in the house of an honourable knight, and one of my friends. This lady and her handmaids are under my protection here."

"What the fiend! my young big-nosed duke, are you already tired of good fellowship, and desire a quarrel?" growled the algrev, projecting his legs, while he leant back on his chair, with his arms folded on his breast. "I would rather advise you not to try such a joke. The Count of Tönsberg can sup broth out of the same dish with both a Norse and Swedish king, and has not need to make himself a dog for the favour. I am not to be cowed by the biggest emperor in the world, least of all by a little duke. As I sit here, I will undertake to turn you and your genteel drost heels over head, if you have a mind to know whether you or the algrev is the strongest."

The duke grew pale with indignation. Sir Abildgaard sprang up, and placed himself, with his hand upon his sword, by the duke's side.

"Call the house-carls," said Lady Ingé to her maidens; and the frightened girls, screaming, ran out of the room to give the alarm: the lofty, earnest maiden herself remained standing, and regarded the enraged men with attention.

"This is not the time and place to prove our strength, Count Alf; and I am no boatman, who will drag a rope against a seahorse," said the duke, with supreme contempt, and laying his hand on his sword. "The wine has proved too strong for you; and what you say to-night, you will scarcely repeat tomorrow. If you were to bear in mind where we are, and what kind of a wind we have, you would perhaps come to your senses," he added, in a haughty, threatening tone. "Here, the Count of Tönsberg is of no more avail than Niels Breakpeace, or any other vile highwayman; and if you do not wish to prove your strength with Danish gaolers, and measure your height with the gallows of Orekrog, you will tame your unbridled, berserk[18] courage, without the aid of the house-carls and castle-warden."

They already heard a noise without, and the kitchen-door flew open.

"Bar the passage!" cried Lady Ingé; and the kitchen-door was again closed.

The eyes of the maddened freebooter rolled wildly in his head. He seized a massive silver trencher from the table, and seemed about to hurl it at the duke's head; but, recollecting himself, he was satisfied with twisting the heavy salver into the form of a rope. When he had thus vented his rage, and given his opponents an astonishing proof of his enormous strength, he appeared entirely calm and pacified.

"People don't understand joking in Denmark," he muttered. "We Norse sea-dogs are not accustomed to weigh words. Be at your ease, proud maiden; and sit you quietly down again, my noble young gentlemen. The wine, perhaps, runs a little in my noddle, and so I don't like standing. We sit here tolerably snug. But where is she off to, the little roguish brunette? Let her come hither, and pour out for me; and, death and the devil! you may have all the others: but the first house-carl that sets foot in the room, I will fell him like an ox!"

He now appeared drowsy and heavy-headed, and lolled comfortably back on his chair, as if he would go to sleep; but still kept his eyes half open, whilst his left hand rested on the hilt of his dagger, and in his right was clenched the silver trencher, which he had converted into a heavy truncheon.

"He is inebriated, as you perceive, noble lady," now said the duke, softly, to Ingé, while he offered her his arm, and led her into the farther hall. "Pardon us for having brought with us this rude travelling companion, who is, otherwise, a brave Norse knight, and of noble birth; but, when in this state, there is no controlling him: he becomes crazy, and fancies himself the powerful freebooter, Count Mindre-Alf of Tönsberg. We must, at such times, talk to him after his own fashion; and, in order to tame him, threaten him with rack and gibbet. He will not now rise from the drinking-table so long as there is a drop in the flagon, and therefore we can leave him. When he falls fast asleep, he will suffer himself to be carried on board, like a log, without moving. To-morrow, he will again be the smartest knight in the universe, if he does not dream that he has been Count of Tönsberg to-night."

"It is a singular weakness for a man so strong," replied Lady Ingé, examining the duke with an earnest, penetrating look: "perhaps, also, it was in consequence of his intoxication that he took you for the duke?"

"Nay: there he was right, noble lady. I am truly Duke Waldemar; and, although I am not welcome to you, your father has received me as his guest. For his sake, as well as for mine, I pray you to send the house-carls back, and not betray this private visit by any needless alarm. Notwithstanding that I feel confident of being able to justify myself against every accusation, I am at this moment misunderstood, and under pursuit. It may coat your father his life, if people here should recognise me."

Lady Ingé tottered and grew pale. The servants of the house had, in the meanwhile, barred all egress, and some of them now came, storming noisily, into the hall.

"Back!" cried Lady Ingé, suddenly recovering herself, and stepping with calm authority towards them: "it was a mistake. There is no danger at present. These are peaceful travellers, and my father's friends. One of them has become intoxicated, and has frightened us with his wild raving. You may return to the castle-stairs, and remain quiet until I call; but three of you remain in the kitchen."

The house-carls obeyed, and went back; but the frightened handmaidens did not venture to show themselves, and Ingé remained alone with the duke and his drost.

"You are Duke Waldemar, then?" she said, regarding the proud young nobleman with a composed and searching look, while she placed herself so near to the kitchen-door that she could open it whenever she chose. "Your drunken comrade within is likewise the open enemy of the country--the notorious Norse freebooter and incendiary; your groom is also a riever; and yet, with such a train, you dare to make yourself a guest in a royal castle! You have betrayed my father: his life is, perhaps, in danger. Where he has gone, you must know better than I. The pursuers you speak of are probably here, in the castle. It is to me a fearful riddle; but this I know, that at this instant I am mistress of your freedom."

The duke started, and looked at the lofty, earnest girl with astonishment; while Sir Abildgaard glanced uneasily round him, and made an involuntary movement towards the door.

"The passage is barred," continued Lady Ingé; "but it costs me only a nod, and it stands open to you. Promise me, Duke Waldemar, truly and piously, that, from this time forth, you will undertake no enterprise against the kingdom and country, and I shall then no longer prevent your departure from this castle; but if you cannot or will not promise me this, I instantly call the house-carls to seize you, as the accomplices of this audacious freebooter."

The duke and Sir Abildgaard regarded each other with the highest astonishment, and, for a moment, both appeared irresolute.

"Excellent!" exclaimed the duke, at length, in a gay and courtly tone of politeness: "to a lady's humour we may, with all honour, give way." But observing Lady Ingé's beautiful, serious countenance and determined mien, he suddenly changed his manner. "I promise you, noble lady," he continued, solemnly, "that I shall take no step that I do not hope to be able to defend, before the Danish people, at every legal tribunal. My conduct you cannot pronounce sentence upon; and you have no other right or power to be our mistress here than we freely concede to your beauty and patriotic spirit. If, then, you would not place your own father in peril of death, you will allow the castle to be opened for us, and not betray to any one what guests have been here."

Lady Ingé was silent. A mighty conflict seemed violently to agitate her bosom: she held one hand tremblingly before her eyes, and, with the other, indicated that they might depart. She then opened the kitchen-door, and gave the house-servants orders to re-open the barred passages.

The door of the fore-hall was immediately opened, and she perceived, standing in the doorway, the same clumsy-looking fellow who had so much alarmed her, at dusk, with his wild, brutish countenance.

"It blows south-east, and we can sail," said he: "all is clear."

"Good," answered the duke: "we are ready. Take care of the gentleman within. Farewell, noble lady," he continued, turning to the knight's fair daughter, with a genuine expression of respect: "I am sorry I must number you among my foes; but I shall never forget this hour, and never cease to esteem and admire you. Had Denmark many such women, scarcely any man would need to boast of his valour." With these flattering words, he raised her hand to his lips, bowed politely, and, with his drost, hastened from the door.

The tall, rude groom had, in the meanwhile, according to the duke's instructions, proceeded to the dining-room, where he first made free with what remained in the wine-flagons. He then put all the silver goblets into his pocket, and, taking the sleeping algrev's silver truncheon from his hand, he placed it among the rest of his booty. He then disposed himself to lift the drunken gentleman upon his shoulder.

"It is not needful, Niels," whispered the algrev: "I am not so drunk but that I can well walk; yet I have been drinking stupidly, and must allow I have enough. So just take me under your arm, and let us off to sea."

He thereupon began to growl forth a snatch of some wanton song, and, resting on the arm of his sturdy comrade, reeled into the next apartment. Here Ingé was still standing, with her hand on the latch of the kitchen-door.

"A proud little tit-bit, Niels," whispered the algrev to his rough attendant. "Could we but take her with us, we should not leave Zealand without a prime booty."

"It would be an easy matter for me to whip her up," whispered Niels; "but, should she scream, we are betrayed. Ill birds are about already."

"The fiend take the proud wench, then! I would rather have the little roguish brunette. But let the birds fly. Farewell, proud lady," he said, aloud, as, staggering towards her, he kissed his finger. "Salute our good friend, your worthy father. Thank him handsomely, for having allowed us to drink a goblet here in peace, and put the hounds on a false scent."

Lady Ingé answered not: she stood, as if rivetted to the floor with terror; and, as soon as the fearful guests were gone, she bolted the door after them. Exhausted by these unusual efforts, she sank on a chair, almost unconscious. She still appeared to hear footsteps in the court-yard of the castle; but soon all was still, and the castle-gates were shut with a hollow sound. The noise aroused her from her stupor, and, collecting her strength, she tried to recall what had happened. The idea of her father's connection with the terrible guests fell on her soul like an enormous burden. A flood of tears burst suddenly from her eyes, and she wrung her hands in deep and boundless grief.

"But where is he?" she broke out again, in anguish; "and where are the three brave men who went with him?" The angry sea-rover's parting words occurred to her, and she made a hurried movement towards the door, without exactly knowing what she intended to do.

At this moment, she heard a loud knocking at the front hall-door. She started, but did not long hesitate, and withdrew the bolts. An active stranger youth, in the habit of a squire, entered, and saluted her respectfully. It was Claus Skirmen.

"Be not alarmed, lady," he said, hastily; "but may I inform you, if you do not know it already, that there are pirates in the castle; whilst my master, and the two knights who came with him, together with the governor of the castle himself, are shut up in the eastern tower."

"Shut up by pirates! my father imprisoned!" exclaimed Lady Ingé, with a burst of joy, incomprehensible to the young squire. "Are you certain the pirates have shut him up? and how know you it?"

"Who has locked them in, I know not," replied Skirmen; "but, noble lady, understand me rightly: they are prisoners in the tower. I was out on the beach, washing our horses, when I heard some one shouting from above, and I rode out of the water towards the tower, in the direction from whence the sound came. They bade me look about, right under the tower, for a prison-key: it was lying, fortunately, upon a great stone, and here it is; but the entrance to the tower I could not discover. In the court-yard they were shouting that pirates are here, and I could not be heard."

"Give it me!" exclaimed Lady Ingé, anxiously snatching it from the squire's hand. "Bring the lantern from the stable: make haste!" And she hurried out across the court-yard, while Skirmen ran to the stable for the lantern.

In the castle-yard there was a great noise. The servants were all in commotion, and the old warden came towards her in great terror. "Ah, God pity us!" he whined: "the vile sea-cats! Has any misfortune happened, lady?"

"My father is imprisoned," she hastily replied, "and the strangers are gone. Unlock the eastern tower for us."

"Ah, God pity us!" whined the warden, once more, and hurried to the tower. "It was by your father's orders I locked his friends both in and out, and asked them neither their names nor errand. That Satan who last went out wrenched the key of the castle-gate from my hand, and opened it before my very nose. They must have been rovers and heretics. I saw them, from the castle-walls, hoist sail, and leave the haven, taking the direction of Scania--and in this flying storm, too. God grant that they may go to the bottom, neck and crop!"

"My father is locked in," exclaimed Lady Ingé, impatiently: "instantly open the tower for us, I say."

"Ah, the infernal rogues! have they locked the governor in? God grant they may sink!" cried the old man, obeying.

"Hence now, hammer and tongs, and break open the gates of the tower--despatch!"

The tower-gate was now open. Skirmen came with the lantern, and hastily preceded Ingé up the narrow, winding staircase. When she reached the top, she heard high words within the prison, and recognised the voices of her father and the strangers.

"This treason you shall pay for, Sir Lavé!" she heard exclaimed by a harsh-toned voice, which she recognised as that of the stranger with the large plaited beard. "If Drost Hessel will still be your defender," continued the angry speaker, "he cannot save your life when I denounce you, and prove you to be a traitor to the country."

At these words, which only seemed to confirm her own cruel suspicions, the unhappy daughter was well nigh sinking upon the spot. The name of Drost Hessel had also attracted her attention in the highest degree, and the key fell from her hands. It rolled a few steps downwards, and Skirmen picked it up.

"Still, there is no proof of so heinous a crime," she now heard uttered in the voice of the young gentleman who had known her mother, and who had seemed to her so kingly. "Appearances are very much against you, Sir Lavé," continued the same voice; "but we ought to think the best of Sir John's kinsman as long as possible; and for what has yet happened here, no one can legally condemn you."

At these words, a gleam of hope lighted up the soul of the magnanimous daughter. "Yes, he may still be innocent!" she exclaimed, hastily thrusting into the lock the key which Skirmen had handed to her. The door was instantly opened, and the sight of the courageous girl astonished the knights. Her father appeared still more surprised to see her.

"Are the strangers still here?" he hastily inquired.

"Nay," replied the daughter, scarcely daring to look in her father's face, lest she should read in his manner a confirmation of the crime that she still hoped was a matter of doubt.

"Ha! escaped! Perdition seize them!" exclaimed Thorstenson, stamping with rage. "Now, the object of our detention is clear enough."

"Do you know whether they have gone seawards or landwards, noble lady?" inquired Drost Peter. "Can you tell us, with certainty, which route they have taken? Your word is my surety that they are withdrawn, and are not concealed within these walls."

Lady Ingé was about to answer, but her father seized her hastily by the arm.

"Be thou silent, my daughter!" he commanded her, in a sterner tone than he was wont at other times to use. "My persecuted guests, as you hear, are no longer in the castle," he said, turning to the knights, and suddenly becoming bold and determined. "It is now your affair to pursue them farther, if you believe yourselves authorised to do so. I am obliged to furnish you with fighting-men, and to provide you with a sea-boat, if you demand it; but not to be a spy and an accuser. To such meanness you shall not compel my daughter; and none of my people in the castle shall give evidence in this matter until they are summoned to the Lands-Ting, and in presence of their lawful judges. That I have received the king's own kinsman, Duke Waldemar of South Jutland, into this castle, I need neither deny nor feel ashamed of. I know of no sentence passed upon him, as an enemy to the king or the country. Whom he had in his train I know not, nor does it concern me. His servants and followers were my guests, as well as he. I am glad that this singular accident has saved him from a pursuit which I consider to be alike illegal and tyrannical."

Thorstenson and Rimaardson looked with wonder on the previously desponding castellan. Thorstenson struck his sword wrathfully on the stone floor; but Drost Peter advanced calmly towards him.

"This concerns the safety of the crown and kingdom," he remarked, sternly and gravely. "What has happened may be regarded as an accident, and I do not intend to make Sir Lavé Little answerable for it. But if you, Lady Ingé Little, know where the traitors and their piratical train have gone, I, Drost Peter Hessel, demand of you, in the name of your king and country, to reveal it, that we may not, by a bootless journey, expose the royal house and the nation to the greatest peril."

Sir Lavé grew pale, and Lady Ingé regarded the authoritative young drost with wondering eyes. She saw her father's embarrassment, and observed a secret sign he gave her, by pointing towards the west; but her resolution was taken.

"If you are Drost Peter Hessel," she said, calmly and firmly, "I know that you have royal power and authority to demand faithful testimony from every loyal subject. As a knight's free daughter, I cannot debase myself by becoming a spy and an accuser, least of all, by betraying my father's friends and guests. But the persons you speak of cannot be my father's friends. They have not come as guests, but as disguised robbers. According to the warden's account, who himself has seen them, they are fled over the Sound, towards Sweden."

"In the name of our king and country, I thank you for this important evidence, noble Lady Ingé," said Drost. Peter, taking her hand warmly. "Yet a word in my own name, in the presence of your father, and of these brave men. I hope the time may yet come, when you will as little mistake Drost Peter Hessel's heart and conduct, as you now do his fealty to his king and country. If you do not reject the hand which I now give as a friend, it will be my greatest pride and happiness to proffer it to you hereafter with a dearer title."

"Never, never shall that time come, as long as my eyes are open!" exclaimed Sir Lavé, bitterly, and tearing their hands asunder. "Silence, and go to your chamber, my daughter, I command you!"

Lady Ingé cast a look of fervent esteem towards her childhood's bridegroom; and saluting him and his friends with silence and dignified composure, she departed.

Skirmen ran down the stairs before her with the lantern, and across the court-yard. On his return, his master and both the knights had already gone out of the opened castle-gate. He hastened to bring their horses from the stable, and followed his master. He rejoined them on the quay, where Sir Lavé commanded the ferrymen to convey the gentlemen, in their fleetest sloop, and without delay, to Helsingborg. Thirty men of the castle garrison stood armed on the quay, and received the castellan's orders to follow and obey the strangers. Having done this, Sir Lavé took a short and cold leave of Drost Peter and Sir Rimaardson. To Sir Thorstenson he silently handed his glove, and returned, with hasty and troubled steps, to the castle. Thorstenson flung the glove contemptuously after him, and leaped on board.

In a brief space, the knights, with their armed followers, were embarked. Skirmen took charge of the horses. The wind was blowing strong from the south. Drost Peter placed himself at the helm, and ordered all sails to be set; and the sloop dashed along at a rapid rate, cutting through the troubled waters of the Sound.

The night was intensely dark, a few stars only being visible. They steered in the direction of Helsingborg, Drost Peter sitting silently at the rudder; while Thorstenson, exasperated, paced up and down the deck with Rimaardson, giving vent to his indignation against the crafty castellan.

"Who would have believed it of him?" he growled: "I always took him for a flounder, and thought it his only claim to be governor of Flounder Castle."[19]

"Do not speak so loud, noble knight," whispered Rimaardson. "They are his people we have on board; and see you not how they lay their heads together? Should mutiny break out in the ship during this murky night, our condition then may be worse than that we have just escaped from."

"The first man that grumbles, I shall cut down," muttered Thorstenson. "Every Dane has not yet become a traitor."

Skirmen now ascended from the hold of the vessel, and approached his grave master, who sat thoughtfully, with his arm over the rudder, now and then casting back a look to the huge dark castle, where a single light only was visible, shining from a turret-chamber in the south-eastern angle. There, he knew that Lady Ingé, in her childhood, had her apartment; and there, as children, they had often played together.

"Master," said Skirmen, advancing a little nearer, "be not offended if I disturb you in the midst of important thoughts. But steer you not rather too much to the south?"

"You are right, Skirmen," answered Drost Peter, hastily turning the helm: "yes, this must be the right course. It is dark, and we need to have our eyes about us. Fortunately, I can see the light, yonder. Now, tell me somewhat. You followed the lady from the tower. How was she affected? Did she converse with you?"

"Not a word, sir, until I had set down the lantern, and was about to depart: then, indeed, she asked me if I was your squire."

"And what did you answer?" asked the drost, hastily.

"Eh? what could I answer save 'yes,' sir? But now, are you not steering rather southerly again?"

Drost Peter hastily corrected his error. "Said she nothing more to you?" he resumed, after a pause.

"Ay, true: as she was entering the door, she dropped her red hair-band, which I picked up, and restored to her. That I might not appear a lout, without a word to say, I remarked that she wore the queen's colours as well as my master, the drost. I perceived that she started on hearing this; on which I drew myself up a little; for I know it is an honour that no knight but yourself can boast."

"Stupidity--cursed bravado!" exclaimed Drost Peter, with unusual vehemence. "Moreover, it is untrue: I no longer wear the queen's colours."

"That I knew not, stern sir. You wore them, however, when we travelled from Melfert."

"But now, as I tell you, I no longer wear them; and, for the sake of bragging, you should say nothing but what you know for certain to be true."

Skirmen was abashed, and remained silent.

"And what said she to this stupid boasting?" continued Drost Peter, in a milder tone.

"Nothing, stern sir. Yet it occurred to me, that she was much moved thereat.----But be not angry, stern sir: the helm is a little wrong again."

"Certainly not: let me attend to that. Moved, say you? Why think you she was moved? What foolish talk is this?"

"Truly by this, my master: she turned away from me, blushed deeply, and, as it seemed to me, there were tears in her eyes."

"Nonsense, Skirmen! you must have mistaken.--Spring forwards, and put that sail to rights!"

Skirmen hastened to obey his master's order, although he could not conceive why he was so singularly abrupt and abstracted.

The young drost heaved a deep sigh, and looked back once more for the light in the turret-window. It was no longer to be seen; and it seemed to him as if, with that distant light, the fair, newly-risen star was also extinguished from his childhood's heaven.

The wind now blew strong, and they already began to perceive lights on the Swedish coast, when suddenly a wild shout was heard on board, and torches flared in the midst of clashing swords and lances. Drost Peter, surprised, sprang from the helm, and saw, with consternation, Sir Thorstenson and Sir Rimaardson engaged in fierce conflict with the thirty lancers from Flynderborg.

Drost Peter threw himself with drawn sword amidst the combatants. "Peace here, in the king's name, or you are dead men!" he commanded, in a voice which, without being alarming, had singular weight and authority. They all paused, and gazed at him. Even the maddened Sir Thorstenson, who had felled one man and wounded another, subdued his rage, and stood quietly.

"Speak! what has happened?" demanded the drost. "Here, I am supreme judge."

"Rebellion--mutiny!" cried Thorstenson: "there lies the ringleader."

"They think that we have arbitrarily compelled the commandant, and that we are leading them into mischief," said Rimaardson.

The uproarious landsknechts pressed forward, uttering defiance, and shouting lustily to one another: "We are free Danes, and will not suffer ourselves to be cowed by three rovers. We know well enough, that you would have murdered the castellan in the tower; and here are we, carried off in the murky night, like cattle for slaughter, and no one knows whither."

"Silence!" cried the drost. "Is there any one amongst you who knows the king's hand and seal?"

"That does wise Christen--yes, that does Christen Fynbo," cried the fellows.

"Let him come hither, then," commanded the drost, taking forth the royal warrant addressed to governors of castles. "A torch here! and now attend." He then read aloud, and distinctly, the order that he should be supplied with a force, whenever it should be demanded. "There you see the king's seal and signature."

"It is well attested, comrades," said the book-learned Fynbo; and the greater number were pacified: still, a few solitary murmurs were heard.

"Now you have seen black on white for our right and authority, fellows," continued Drost Peter, sternly; "but, even without this, you ought to obey, when your governor has commanded you. Meantime are you all my prisoners: I cannot employ fellows like you in the king's service. Your leader has met with his reward. Cast him overboard, and let the fish devour him. The rest of you lay down your arms immediately."

The soldiers delayed, and a subdued murmur ran among them.

"Do you hesitate?" cried the drost. "Will you be doomed as traitors? Cast the rebel's corpse overboard: his sentence is passed here--God be merciful to his soul!"

Two of the landsknechts, who stood nearest the drost, silently laid hold of the body of their fallen comrade, and heaved it overboard. It splashed into the deep, and for a moment there was a fearful silence. No one, however, had yet laid down his weapon.

"You have been misled, and in a mistake, countrymen," said the drost, in a milder tone: "I shall intercede for you, for this time. But, now, instantly lay down your arms, and descend quietly to the forehold. Whoever murmurs, forfeits his life."

The astonished soldiers obeyed: in a moment they were all disarmed, and shut down, within the fastenings of the forehold. The drost then went quietly back to the helm, which Skirmen in the meantime, at his signal, had undertaken to guide. There was a death-stillness on board. Sir Thorstenson and Sir Rimaardson stood, with drawn swords, by the hatchway of the prison-room, while Skirmen attended to the sails. The storm had lulled, and day began to dawn over the Swedish coast, when the last tack was made, and the ship glided in a right line towards the haven of Helsingborg.

THE
CHILDHOOD OF ERIK MENVED.