Читать книгу The Childhood of King Erik Menved - Bernhard Severin Ingemann - Страница 3

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One evening in the month of May, 1285, a crowd of seamen and porpoise-hunters was assembled on the quay of Gremermarsh, below Hindsgavl's meadows, near Middelfert. They regarded, with strained attention, a large skiff which had left Snoghoj, and was struggling against wind and tide to approach the quay, where the landing was less dangerous than in the bad haven of the town. A storm, unusual at this mild period of the year, stirred up the unquiet waters of the Little Belt. The more experienced ferrymen shook their heads, and thought it was most advisable that the skiff should seek shelter under Fanoe or the Jutland Weald.

"Nonsense, fellows!" said a deep, gruff voice; "here they can and shall land. They get on bravely, and must have a gallant steersman on board. But why stand you here prating? Set light to the brand on the quay-head, that they may keep it in sight; and lay out the porpoise-boats, that we may fish them up, should they be capsized."

The man who gave these orders was foreman of the ferrymen and porpoise-hunters, old Henner Friser, or Henner Hjulmand, as he was sometimes called. He had hitherto been quietly seated on a large stone, observing the vessel's motions with a keen look; but now he rose like a king among his subjects, and the submissiveness with which they heard, as well as the activity with which they obeyed him, sufficiently showed the respect in which he was held among these sturdy, daring seamen. He was uncommonly tall and muscular, and, notwithstanding that he bordered upon seventy years, appeared to possess sufficient vigour to enable him to attain the age of fourscore. He boasted of being a brother's son of the renowned Frisian, Swain Starke, who, in the time of Waldemar the Victor, gained a great name among his countrymen.

For three and thirty years, Henner Friser had resided in Middelfert, or Melfert, as it is commonly called, where he had set on foot the fishing or hunting of porpoises, and, by his ability, had obtained presidency in the guild of these daring fishers, who, at the same time, attended to the ferrying over of passengers. He was skilled in the art of boat-building, and, in his youth, had been a wheel-maker, whence his by-name of Hjulmand (wheelman), although he no longer followed that occupation. That he had taken an active part in the civil wars under Erik Ploughpenny and King Abel was generally believed, and contributed much to his importance among the seamen, although he always expressed himself cautiously on the subject. He appeared to have forsaken the marshy shores of Friesland for a reason which he was proud of, and yet did not find it prudent to talk about; but that it was for some bold and daring act was surmised by everybody.

In his spacious dwelling near the ship-quay of Middelfert, the fraternity of porpoise-hunters had a place of deposit for their large captures between Martinmas and Candlemas. There met the new guild of King Erik; and there had Henner Friser established, likewise, a kind of inn for travellers, of which he had sole and sovereign control. Here, when the porpoise-hunters held their guildmotes, they often regarded with awe the old warrior's armour, which consisted of a kind of long javelin, a Danish battle-axe, a steel bow, with a rusty arrow, together with a light linen harness. In his everyday dress, old Henner was not distinguished from the other ferrymen and porpoise-hunters. Like them, he wore a short jerkin of blue wadmel, or of dark canvass in summer; a pair of large wading boots, which came high over the knees; and over his shaggy gray locks he wore, both summer and winter, a large seal-skin cap. His long wrinkled visage was expressive of energy and harshness of manner; and his keen look evinced a determination and a feeling of superiority, which operated strongly on all his subjects, whose esteem and attachment to him was, at the same time, blended with what was peculiar to these people--an unusual dread of strife. This was, perhaps, chiefly owing to his extraordinary strength, of which, even in advanced years, he had given astonishing proofs; and he could even now, without exertion, compel the strongest of the porpoise-hunters to bend on their knees, merely by pressing his hands upon their shoulders.

A word from this man was sufficient to set all the idle spectators in motion. A light soon blazed on the large stone at the pier's end, and thirty hardy fishermen were at work, with ropes and poles, to launch a large boat, for the purpose of rendering assistance to those in distress. As soon as Henner Friser saw that his orders were punctually executed, he again seated himself quietly, and with an air of indifference, upon his stone.

"It must be another cargo of nobles for the Danish court on the day after to-morrow," he muttered. "Should Duke Waldemar be among them, it were, perhaps, better for kingdom and country, that we let them go to the bottom, neck and crop."

"Why so, neighbour Henner?" inquired a burgher who stood by his side, and whose leather apron, leather cap, and smutty face, proclaimed him a smith. "The young duke is a discreet and gracious nobleman: he once bought a dagger of me, and paid me twice as much for it as I asked. Every time he comes this way, you earn more dollars than I earn shillings in a month; and then he talks so civilly to folks, that it is a pleasure to hear him."

"Gold and silver and fair words he does not spare; that we allow," growled the old man; "and if, by so doing, he could throw dust in the eyes of every Dane, in twelvemonths and a day he might, perhaps, be King of Denmark."

"Marry, then! think you that his thoughts run so high?" inquired the armourer, hastily, scratching his ear; "there may be something in it: who knows how it may turn out? The old king, Waldemar the Victor, was certainly his great-grandfather; the young lord is just twenty years old: he may come to be chosen king one day. But there is time enough for that yet," he added; and, after a little reflection: "our king is still a young man: according to my reckoning, he cannot be more than six and thirty now; and his young son, who succeeds him--let me see--he can be scarcely eleven yet. Nay, nay, it is not to be thought of."

"What cares the grandson of King Abel about that, think you?" replied the old man, in a tone of bitterness. "The young braggart does not want daring. He had scarcely cut his colt's-teeth, when he set himself in opposition to the king, and would submit himself neither to rod nor snaffle; and now it is said for certain, that he will claim the whole kingdom; and, if he does not receive from the court of Denmark what he aims at, that he will instantly bring down the Swedes upon our heads. We have already to thank him for the present outbreak with the Norwegians. Nay, nay--he is a fellow we must look after, neighbour Troels. We knew his grandfather; and the race of a fratricide no Dane shall trust again."

The old man was silent, and became absorbed in deep thought.

"You may well say that, neighbour Henner," resumed the armourer; "we have experienced disasters enough, and may well cross ourselves when we think on what has happened in the country since old King Waldemar Seier closed his eyes. His sons, all three, were kings,^[1] as was said and predicted to him; but God shield us from such kings and from such ends! In troth, it is awful to think of: I have not yet reached my threescore, and the present king is the fifth I can remember; and three of these, one after the other, were miserably murdered."

"Murdered?" repeated Henner Friser. "Nay, neighbour--that was the case with two only of Waldemar's sons, if it be true, as people say, about our king's father and the condemned priest in the New Cloister. God forgive me, and all good Christians, their sins! but priests should be pious men of God; and, when they can forgive kings and princes with God's own holy body, then the worst murder of a layman by sword or dagger should be reckoned next to nothing. Nay, two only were murdered, neighbour," he continued, after a thoughtful pause, and rising up; "nobody shall say that King Abel was murdered: he fell by his own conduct, and shamefully enough for himself; but still in open warfare with true and valiant subjects, who would not suffer themselves to be flayed by the coward who had murdered his brother, and deprived us of our lawful king."

The old man's voice waxed loud, and he spoke with great vehemence. He appeared to observe a tendency to the same in his neighbour's manner, and remarked, in a subdued tone, "We must not talk too loud about this matter, neighbour. These are unquiet times, and traitors are abroad. Should Duke Waldemar and the great nobles come to rule, we shall have to listen to a new tale, which may be worse than the first." Henner was again silent, and resumed his seat, in deep thought.

"I must say, nevertheless, neighbour Henner," began the armourer anew, "that there is nothing so bad, that it may not be good for something. If the nobles had not courage to lay restraints on King Erik Christopherson, mischief would be the result, for both gentle and simple. It were sin to say our king is not severe enough, as he imposes penalties on both burgher and peasant; but he cares for neither law nor justice; and was compelled, last year, to a compact respecting the rights and liberties of the kingdom. Much has not come of that yet: and had not Marsk Andersen denounced him, and put him in terror of his life, at the last Thing^[2] at Viborg, none of us at present could have said that his wife or daughter was safe from him."

"That is true, neighbour," replied old Henner, waking up as if from a dream, and appearing only to hear the latter sentence. "A vile story was that, regarding Stig Andersen's wife; and I will say that, had I been in the marsk's^[3] stead, I would, perhaps, have done something more than merely threaten. And yet--the Lord preserve our king and his son, say I, for the kingdom and country's sake! The father is good for nothing: others may call him a villain; yet God preserve the rotten stem, for the sake of the fresh shoot! The little Erik has Waldemar Seier's eagle eyes; and, should the Lord keep his hand over him, it may yet be worth an honest man's while to live in Denmark. It is a fortunate thing for him, and for the kingdom, that he has the brave Drost^[4] Hessel for his instructor in the use of arms. Without Peter Hessel, old John Little, and David Thorstenson, it would be a lamentable case for all of us."

"If the handsome young drost stand as well with the queen as is reported," observed the smith, smiling, "no wonder he takes so kindly to the young prince. He may be a wise and virtuous man; but little human frailties he must possess, as others do; and, when King Glip-eye has eyes for every other woman but the queen only, she cannot be greatly blamed for being so willing to ride a-hunting with the young drost."

"So you, too, believe the damnable tittle-tattle!" cried the old man, with vehemence and indignation. "I have seen Queen Agnes once, and Drost Peter twice only: that was in the guild of our murdered King Erik; and, if it be true, as I believe, that every woman's child bears its character in its open eyes--and I have so read the characters of both high and low, for these seventy years past--our queen, on this point, is as pure, in God's sight, as is the sun; and so is Drost Peter Hessel--a man who, in all respects, would sooner lose his life than forget the oath he openly swore in our guild, or in any way betray his country or the royal house. But so it is: when the head is good for nothing, the whole body soon bears witness to it; and King Erik Christopherson does not blink with his small buck-eyes for nothing."

"I believe, neighbour Henner, you can read more in an eye than many a priest can in his big book; and people with reason hold you to understand somewhat more than your paternoster. You have given a good reason, too," continued the smith, smiling, "why you lock up your pretty little Aasé, every time King Glip-eye comes over the Belt. I saw very well how she stood in the pantry yesterday, while the king mounted his horse outside, before you."

"Ay, then, saw you that, my good Troels?" replied the old warrior, somewhat ruffled. "It was a piece of foolery; and I shall tell you how it happened. He saw her once, and paid her a little more attention than I exactly care for. She is my granddaughter, and the apple of my eye, as you know. That I lock the cage when the cat is in the room, follows of course; otherwise I should have to take the biggest tom-cat by the neck, and throw him out of the window, if he proved saucy. It comes to this, that my little Aasé, as you may, perhaps, have observed, is a Sunday's bairn:^[5] that may easily be seen in her complexion. She is somewhat palefaced; and, however blithe and sprightly she may be, she is, nevertheless, now and then troubled with a kind of dreaming fit. But that will wear off as she gets older. Her mother was so troubled before her; and I believe it runs in the family, as I am not entirely free from it myself. I do not give much heed to such dreaming now; but she has never yet said anything, while in this state, that has not proved in a manner true; though she can discern nothing, by night or day, more than others may do when they are in their senses."

"My God! is it not quite right with your little Aasé?" asked the smith, sympathisingly, and pointing with his finger to his forehead.

"She is too sagacious for her years," answered the old man; "and that will not do for this world. But when once she is married, and has other matters to think of, this will pass over; and in other respects she has a good sound constitution. But this is what I was about to tell you. Last night, she rose in her sleep, and came to me: she was frightened, and said that the king had returned from hunting, with a death's head under his hat, and wanted to come in to her. I awoke her, and then she knew nothing of the dream. She laughed, and skipped carelessly to bed. I was much inclined to frighten her about what she had told me; but, yet I did not want the king to see her yesterday, when he crossed my threshold to change his garments; and so I locked her up, as if by mistake."

"This only helps you a little way, my good, careful neighbour," observed the smith, with a sly laugh. "A good hen can lay an egg among nettles; where there is a will there is a way. The king saw her very well: when he rode off, your grand-daughter, from curiosity, peeped out between the bars of your pantry, just as the king's horse made a spring on one side. I saw, by the blink of his eye, that he had perceived her; and twice he looked behind him towards the little window, after she had withdrawn her charming little face."

"Nonsense, nonsense!" growled the old man. "It shall not happen again, I warrant you. You must not talk about this matter, neighbour. It is nothing in itself, but would soon give rise to gossip. I shall be quiet, for the child's sake. So, now let the matter drop."

"But what does the king's chamberlain still do in the village? asked the smith.

"Chamberlain Rané!" exclaimed Henner, starting: "did he not follow the king yesterday?"

"He did, certainly; but, early this morning, I saw him, and two men-at-arms of the king's, go by your house. They stopped under the end window, and whispered together, and, as we came out, I saw their horses at your back gate."

"So, indeed!" muttered the old man. He arose hastily, his eyes flashing fire, and observed, "You might as well have told me this before, neighbour."

"I thought they might have business with you, my good Henner. You are not wont to be communicative, and one gets sick of asking questions."

Old Henner cast a sharp look once more over the raging Belt. "The skiff is saved," he said, in a subdued tone, which betrayed violently suppressed emotions. "They have caught the warp. Come, neighbour, there is no time to lose here any longer, when I have such guests at home."

With long, hurried steps, the vigorous old man strode away in the direction of his house, which was situated in that part of Middelfert which bordered on the quay, and about three quarters of a mile from the quay of Gremermarsh. The sturdy armourer, though ten years his junior, could scarcely keep pace with him. Neither of them spoke, until they came to a by-path, leading across a waste field towards Henner Friser's premises. Here he stopped, and looked carefully before him, in the direction of the gable window of his house, which, in the deepening twilight, he could just perceive. Large clouds were continually driven by the storm before the moon, which, at this instant, shone on the house gable.

"Ha! no light?" he exclaimed: "this will not do." He redoubled his steps, but suddenly stopped again, exclaiming, "do you not hear the tramp of horses, neighbour, on the road to Hegness Wood?"

"Ay, certainly," was the reply; "who can it be? The people are in a hurry. Can the king's bailiff at Hegness receive guests from Melfert so late?"

"Go to my house, neighbour; see if my Aasé is at home, and taking care of the guild brethren. If she be not at home, and I do not return, tell them which way I am gone. I am merely a little curious."

With these words, he sprang in an opposite direction towards the high road, and, from thence, over two ditches and fences, into a by-road leading from Middelfert to Hegness Wood, which the riders he had heard in the neighbourhood of the town must necessarily turn down, if they attended to their safety. Without himself being entirely conscious of it, he had drawn out the large knife used in pursuit of the porpoise, which he always carried in his right boot. With this knife in his hand, he stood still a moment, in a ditch, on one side of the narrow road, which he could half reach across with his long arm. He could hear the gallop of horses, continually drawing nearer, and could now distinctly recognise the clattering hoofs of three.

"Now, give the horses breath for a gallant ride to the castle!" cried a man's piping voice: "we are safe now, and here the road is good. Then for a bold rush to the fortress, before the old Satan can have returned from the quay."

"Death and hell!" muttered the old man; "that was long Chamberlain Rané's cracked pipe."

"You know the sign and password?" continued the same voice: "in the king's name, and three blows with your halberds on the door. If any one oppose us, cut him down: I take the consequences."

The listener thought he heard a wailing sound, as if from a half-suffocated female voice, which was lost in the howling of the storm; and his keen eye recognised, by the glimmer of the moon, the white dress of a woman fluttering over the saddle, before the middle rider. They now advanced at a gallop. At one bound the old man stood in the middle of the way.

"Hold!" he cried, with a terrible voice, as the horsemen came up. The long hunting-knife glittered in his right hand, while, with the left, he seized the reins of the middle horse. The animal wheeled and snorted; and a blow from a sword struck the old warrior on the left arm; but, with a convulsive grasp, he held firm the bridle, and groped in the dark with the knife, for fear of injuring the female form that hung, apparently in a swoon, on the horseman's left arm.

"Forward, in the devil's name! cut him down!" again cried the squeaking voice from behind.

The old man felt a wound in the shoulder, and, at the same moment, received a violent blow from the horse's fore leg. The bridle dropped from his hands; he fell to the ground; and the horse sprang over him. With desperate strength, he half raised himself, and flung his knife, with whizzing rapidity, after the nearest horseman. He heard the piercing shriek of a man, and, at a little distance, the indistinct voice of his dear Aasé, crying, "Help, grandfather! help!" till it was lost in the storm, and in the clatter of the horses' hoofs. Faint with loss of blood, the old man fell back unconscious. Twenty paces from him, on the dark road, arose the groans of a dying man; and a frightened horse, with an empty saddle, bounded away across the fields.

For some time, Henner Friser lay insensible on the road. When he again became conscious, he heard several voices around him. He opened his eyes, and found himself encircled by his hardy friends, the young porpoise-hunters. They stood with lights and cudgels in their hands, together with his neighbour the armourer, and some burghers from the town, who came to his assistance, with perplexed and sympathising exclamations.

Seated on a tall, iron gray stallion, in the middle of the road, was a young knight, in a scarlet mantle, fringed with sable, and with a white feather in his hat. By the knight's side, holding, in one hand a torch, and, with the other, a norback^[6] by the bridle, stood a little, swarthy squire. The storm was now lulled, and the torch burned clear in the still air, illuminating the anxious, noisy group.

"Look here, one of you. What is the matter? Are there rievers in the district? Has Niels Breakpeace come over?"

"Rievers, truly, my noble knight," answered old Henner, raising himself, with the help of the young fishermen, who, in all haste, had already bound up his arm and shoulder, and now withheld their clamour from respect to their senior and the distinguished stranger. "The cowardly pack!" continued Henner; "they have forcibly carried off my grandchild, my little Assé, my only joy and comfort. Had I not been afraid of killing the innocent child, all the three scoundrels would have been grovelling, with their faces in the dust, where I now lie. If you would know to what rieving band they belong, sir knight, you have only to ride some twenty paces forward, to find one of them with my hunting-knife in his back-ribs. I wish only, for the crown and country's sake, it may turn out to be Niels Breakpeace, and no more distinguished scoundrel." He could scarcely speak for passion.

"An abduction?" inquired the knight, "and with force and violence? rievers, too?"

"Panderers, traffickers in souls, devils damned!" exclaimed the old man; "but if you are a true Danish knight, help me to save my poor innocent child. She has been carried to the hell-viper on the Ness, yonder, to be polluted."

"To Hegness?" inquired the knight, turning pale; and the torchlight fell on his youthful, handsome countenance.

"Whom see I? Drost Peter Hessel?" broke forth the old man, suddenly, glad to meet him; "is it you, indeed? Now praised be St. Christian and the Holy Erik, that they have sent you to me, in my need and trouble, for now we shall soon deliver the lamb from the den of wolves, even should King Glip-eye be in the midst of them!"

"Think what you say, old man," interposed the knight, sternly: "do not mix up the king in this vile business. If there has been any scoundrel's work here, I shall inquire into it in the king's name, and do you justice. If your wounds will permit you, seat yourself on my squire's horse, and follow me to the fortress. I shall prove to you and these good countrymen, that the king is not a protector of cowards and robbers. But where is the man you have slain? He deserves his fate, whoever he is."

"Here! here!" cried the young fishermen, who had already discovered the body, and were dragging it along; "here we have the fellow, as stiff as a speared sea-hog. This is a capital weapon!"

The knight observed the corpse attentively, and appeared to be seized with painful surprise. He had been a tall, broad-shouldered fellow, with bristly hair and beard; he wore a scarlet doublet; his morion, which had fallen from his head, and which was now exhibited by one of the fishermen, had no feather, but was marked with the two royal lions.

"This is a coward and a riever, who has stolen the helm and doublet of one of the royal guard," said the knight, sternly. "Pull off his doublet, countrymen! Let him no longer wear our king's colours! Drag him to a dung-pit, and there hide his infamy, till doomsday! And now let us off to Hegness."

Old Henner no longer felt the smart of his wounds; he was already in advance, on the little pony, which could scarcely bear him, but yet got on tolerably well with his burden, the heavy feet of his rider almost touching the ground.

"Bravo! my little norback!" cried the bold squire, who in a few bounds had overtaken Henner and his master; "if you can run with such a karl, you deserve a double fodder."

By the knight's command, some of the fishermen had already dragged the slain robber to a height by the wayside, where stood a gallows; whilst the others, at a little distance, followed the knight and their wounded chief.

"How far have we to the castle?" inquired the knight; "can you hold out the journey, my brave old man?"

"For my child, I could ride now to the world's end," answered Henner: "had the losel who gave me the blow not been a blundering lout, without pith or metal, he might have laid it on to some purpose; a pair of vile scratches he has given me: he shall not brag that it was he who struck Henner Friser to the ground; it was his brave Jutland stallion that kicked me below the short-ribs. Now that the pain is gone, I can run better than this little fellow. Thanks for the loan, my son," he said to the squire, as he leaped off the pony. "We have not a quarter of a mile to the castle, and I may almost as well walk as sit upon the foal."

"You shall not find fault with my norback because he is small," answered the young squire, offended: "he can vie with a roebuck when occasion serves, but he is certainly not an elephant to carry a tower."

"Now, now, are you angry, my son? If you can ride so fleetly, let me see you reach the rievers' nest before we others, and get the gates open for us. 'In the king's name!' was the rascals' pass-word, and three knocks upon the door was the sign. The road goes right through the wood."

Without saying a word, the >>>bold<<<< squire handed the torch to Henner, and rode back to the fishermen, who followed them. In an instant he returned, with the slain robber's scarlet doublet and morion on.

"Permit me so, to ride forward and prepare your way, sir drost," said the youth, and whispered a few words in his master's ear.

"Yes, yes!" answered the knight; "it cannot be a mile off. But be careful, Skirmen: we keep the torches. You cannot miss the road, for yonder we can see the old castle turrets."

The moon again appeared from behind the clouds, throwing its light over a huge, dull, red tower, with embattled walls, which arose high over the wood on the promontory of the bay of Middelfert.

The squire was already mounted: he hastily spurred his pony, and was out of sight in a moment.

"A nimble youth!" exclaimed the old man; "he has a falcon's eye, and the limbs of a hart. He will make a doughty knight one day. Do I guess right that he is from Alsing or Aeroe?"

"My trusty Claus Skirmen is from Femren," answered the knight; "his father was a brave man for his king and country: for that, he was exiled by King Abel, and died in banishment. His grandfather followed King Erik Waldemarson to his death, and proved himself a valiant man to the last. His body was found by the king's side, among the slain."

"Has the youth long borne your shield, noble knight?"

"This is only his second year; but the silver spurs are scarcely cold upon his heels. He is not much more than fifteen yet, and was out last year to capture Niels Breakpeace."

"Alas, fifteen years!" muttered the old man, with a suppressed sigh; "that was my poor Aasé's age yesterday. Ride on, sir knight! I shall yet succeed." And he ran on with rapid strides.

Drost Peter set spurs to his horse, but immediately stopped again. The wood was dark, and, as the torch lit up the old man's face, the knight saw, with concern, that the grayhaired warrior was pale. The bandages had become loose by his exertions, and the blood was flowing fast from his left arm and shoulder. The young knight sprang from his horse. "Let me tighten the bandages," he cried, with the air of a skilful leech; "your wounds are not so slight as you think. Seat yourself on my horse: I have young limbs, and no fresh wound."

"Nay, good sir! For St. Christian's and all saints' sake, let us not delay for such trifles!" cried the hardy old man, impatiently, whilst the knight hastily tied up the loosened bandages; "this will do very well for a poor devil like me! Thanks! I say; but pray hasten on, and redeem your promise. Except the king himself, and his panderers, there is no man more powerful than Drost Peter. Never mind me! Hurry on, noble sir!"

Drost Peter did not consider a moment longer. He vaulted again into his saddle, set spurs to his horse, and rode furiously towards the castle; while old Henner, with long and rapid strides, followed after.

At the strongly-fortified castle of Hegness all was dark and silent, but around the promontory on which it stood still raged the waters of the Sound. A flock of cormorants flew, screaming, round the lofty tower, which, on the land-side, was bright in the moonshine, while it cast its long dark shadow over the rampart, towards the Sound. The drawbridge was down; but the great walled gate was locked. On both sides of a rampart of earth, sixty feet high, the broad moat was filled with muddy water. From one of the upper apartments in the principal wing of the castle a light shone into the court-yard, and, before the lofty staircase, two sentinels, with lances, walked continually to and fro. At the opposite side of the castle, in the backcourt, six horsemen were stationed, with two saddled horses, before a little barred door of the tower. Here the castle was provided with a private outlet, and a narrow drawbridge, now raised, concealed by a thicket of bushes. From a room in the tower, which jutted over the back-court, and had a small window into the fore-court, shone a single light. In a corner of this room a female figure knelt upon the stone floor, with a rosary in her hands, and apparently engaged in prayer. Long dark brown braided tresses fell over her nut-brown neck and shoulders; she wore a dark blue knitted jacket, a linen petticoat of the same colour, with many plaits, and a light blue apron. A cloak, composed of white knitted thread, lay at her side, as if it had fallen from her shoulders. Her back was turned towards the door, and she did not appear to observe that it was gently opened. A tall, broad-shouldered man, closely wrapped in a travelling cloak, stepped softly in, and looked anxiously and carefully around him. He turned towards the door, which stood ajar, and, at his beck, a face withdrew, which might have been taken for that of a crafty old woman, but for the incipient reddish beard, and the bright steel cap, that denoted it to be a young soldier's. The door was then softly closed. The tall, disguised figure stood in the middle of the apartment, and regarded the kneeling girl. Her head was bowed towards the rosary in her small folded hands, upon her knees; and she was so deeply absorbed in prayer and supplication, that her outward senses took no notice of what surrounded them.

At this sight, the disguised person was obviously uneasy. He cleared his throat several times, as if he would speak, or give intimation of his presence; but she continued in the same motionless position. He now made a hasty motion with his hand to his forehead, as if he would drive away some unpleasant, distressing thought. The hat fell from his head, and a strongly-marked countenance was displayed, expressive of severity and supreme haughtiness, which appeared in singular contradiction to the soft, sensual smile that played round his mouth, and his aimless, uneasy glances, which seemed incapable of resting upon any object for an instant. His projecting forehead, furrowed by violent passions, was half concealed by his thin, flaxen hair, which descended on both sides to his shoulders. According to the knightly fashion of the times, he wore a short beard on his upper lip and projecting chin; and was evidently in the prime of life, bordering upon forty. This singular want of character--the contradictory expressions of severity and mildness, of strength and weakness, of pride and meanness, of violent passion and crafty moderation--deprived his countenance of that dignity and loftiness which nature seemed to have intended it originally to possess; but that which most disfigured him was the uncertain glance of his small gray eyes, and a constant leer, and motion of the eyelids, which at once inspired distrust and fear.

He now stood, as if debating with himself whether he should remain or go, when he retreated a few steps, as the kneeling girl suddenly rose and turned round. He saw not the somewhat pale, but clear, lively countenance of the peasant girl, with the most roguish pair of eyes, who had peeped, in curiosity, through the bars of Henner Friser's pantry; but a frightened, weeping child, who entreated his pity and forbearance.

Assé, Henner's daughter, as she was called, after her grandfather, so celebrated by every traveller for her beauty, was wonderfully changed; yet was she, in a manner, fairer than ever. The cheerful little face of the fisher-maiden had the dignity and nobility of a princess's; but now she was pale as a dying person. Her lively, often roguishly-playful eyes, were closed; but there was an expression in her features as if she could penetrate entire nature with a glance, and stood on a far-off, mysterious world. She advanced with a slow and solemn step, and, in language that otherwise was foreign to her simple nature, and with a voice like that of a warning prophetess, while she raised her forefinger in admonition, she burst forth:

"Unhappy king! Thou goest in the way of thy doom. I have prayed for thy soul to our Lord and Judge, and he bade me warn thee. A sword hangs by a hair over thy head; repent, repent, ere it fall upon thee!"

"Ha! a maniac!" exclaimed the tall personage, turning pale. "Rané! Satan! where art thou? whom hast thou brought me?"

He made a hasty movement towards the door, but recovered himself suddenly, and burst into laughter.

"Ha! thou crafty, cunning child! Hast thou been in the priests' school? And is it so thou wilt make a jest of me?" he said, mildly threatening, and advancing towards her. "Thou knewest, then, I was here, and couldst allow it so saintly and devoutly. No more pious foolery, child: it does not sit well upon thee;--but now we understand one another."

He put out his hand, as if he would pat her under the chin; but she drew back a step, and, with a powerful, almost convulsive, expression of contempt and disgust, said:

"Approach me not, or thou art dead!" and she raised her hand menacingly. The blood returned to her cheeks: it seemed as if, with emotion, she would open her long dark eye-lashes, and yet could not succeed. "How thine eyes flash!" she cried; "how enraged thou art, grandfather! Ah, how thine eyes sparkle! and thy fingers--and thou bleedest, thou bleedest!"

"Nonsense, child! there is no one here who flashes and bleeds. Art thou here, prepared with these juggling grimaces? or, art thou really asleep? If so, I will try whether one can awaken thee or not!"

With these words, the tall personage again moved, as if he would approach her, but now fell anxiously back, while she directed a pair of rigid, extended eyes, without life or animation, towards him.

"I know it well," she whispered, mysteriously; "I am in the house in the wood. The mightiest man in the land stands before me. He will hear his fate. Listen, then, my lord! You are erring and unfortunate; you are sold and betrayed. If you would save soul and body, hide yourself! fly! abandon the road to your doom!"

"Are you possessed, girl?" exclaimed the tall personage, stamping his foot, and, at the same time, looking anxiously around him; "am I among traitors here? Rané! Satan! where art thou?"

"Beware! beware of him!" continued the girl, at the same time whispering, mysteriously: "call not upon him! The Evil One is near at hand, when one thinks of him!"

"Will she drive me mad?" muttered the disguised person, as he looked, with the most painful disquietude, now at the door, now at the strange maiden. "Ha! fool that I am, to suffer myself to be deceived by the artful cheat!" he at length exclaimed aloud, and again laughed to himself, while he cast his cloak aside, and stood before her, in a magnificent knightly dress. "Confess now, little Assé, you wanted to have me somewhat at an advantage--would see whether you could make King Erik Christopherson afraid. But it will not avail you: I know my people, and you, too, with your pretty black, bewitching eyes. You dreamt that the king visited you, did you not? and that you lived like a queen, in one of his castles? And that will come to pass, notwithstanding. It depends only on yourself. But, tongue within your teeth, little Assé: not a whisper that the king visited you here, alone. That is a secret no one must know."

The lofty expression on the girl's countenance suddenly disappeared. It seemed as if she had now, for the first time, awoke from a dream that had changed her entire being: she looked around her bewildered, and suddenly sprang towards the door; but, recovering herself again, she took courage, and, putting her little hands upon her sides, placed herself, proudly, opposite the strange nobleman. He seemed gladly surprised at the transformation of the prophetess into the well-known pretty little fisher-girl, with the lively, playful eyes, and open-hearted boldness, no longer excited and fearful: the sleepwalker's sternness and earnestness of manner was lost in a frank and natural anger, which made her even more lovely.

"Who are you, sir knight?" she asked, passionately. "Would you have me fancy you are the king? Nay, simple as I am, I know well that the king will maintain law and right in the country. Like King Glip-eye, you blink disagreeably enough; but I should think myself much to blame, were I to suppose the king a riever and godless evil-doer."

The nobleman coloured deeply, and regarded the haughty maiden with a malicious look. "She has been asleep, then," he muttered to himself; and then said, aloud, "you are right: I am not the king himself, but one of his greatest officers. Since you have such a good opinion of the king's uprightness, my child," he continued, in a severe and authoritative tone, "it surprises me that it should not occur to you, you are a prisoner, at the king's command. You are a suspected woman, in the secret practice of witchcraft. With your crafty old grandfather, you lodge and conceal traitors to the country, and the open enemies of the king. Can you deny that the audacious marsk, who denounced the king, has not lodged under your roof for the last eight days, and has been spared by you? At this instant, in all probability, the rebellious Duke Waldemar sits there, and with his adherents, and plots against the king and the nation. Tales are told of your grandfather that, when I inquire into them, may cost him his neck. If you would save his life, little Assé, it can only be by being friendly and complaisant towards his master and judge; and such, in truth, am I."

"You only wish to prove my constancy, stern sir knight," said the girl, with less haughtiness, and with more discreet demeanour, but still calmly and undauntedly; "you only wish to see whether you can bring me to doubt my grandfather's honour and the king's justice. You know, as well as I, that my grandfather is obliged to provide quarters for all comers, whether they are true subjects or not, so long as the king has not driven them from the country and made them outlaws; that I do not practice witchcraft, although, at times, I may have strange dreams, and, in jest, have read one or two hands, you very well know. You would only trifle with me, stern sir. But if you are in earnest," she continued, vehemently, and again placing her hands, with an air of defiance, on her sides, "you are as little likely to be one of the king's true men as you are to be the king himself. You are, rather, a riever and a traitor, seeking to do injustice in the king's name: so take care of yourself, good sir. There is yet law and justice in the kingdom; and you may happen, by-and-by, to get hanged, for all that you may fit yourself into a stately knight's doublet, stolen, probably, from some poor man."

"Shameless boldness!" exclaimed the nobleman, stamping with indignation; but his wild look fell again upon the girl's beautiful face and form, and he continued, in milder tones: "defiance does not become you well, little Aasé; and you are nothing handsomer for your obstinacy. Before the Lord, I think I could be angry with you in earnest. You are not a tame bird; and I see well, you want to make yourself precious, that you may afterwards set the higher price upon your favour. For variety's sake, that may please me at present; but do not carry it farther. I can have patience for a time; but do not make me furious."

"They are coming! they are coming!" exclaimed Aasé, overjoyed, and springing to the window looking over the great court-yard: "now shall we know whom you are, and whether the king has robbers and ravishers in his service."

The tramp of horses, and the sound of voices, were heard in the court of the castle. The tall personage looked uneasily towards the window: at the same time the door was opened, and the young soldier who had stood without the door on his first entrance hastily and flurriedly entered.

"We are betrayed, sire!" he whispered, almost breathless. "The court is full of people: they demand to be admitted in the king's name, and have Drost Peter Hessel at their head."

"Drost Peter? Are you mad?" said the nobleman, hastily throwing on his cloak. "What wants he here? How did he enter?"

"The gate was locked; nobody knows who let him in. He has terrified the warden with his royal authority. They are searching throughout the whole castle, and will pull it down if they do not find the girl. I expect them here every instant, as they have seen the light from the court. If you would not betray yourself to the people, escape by the secret passage, sire. Command it so, and I shall take the blame, and suffer myself, farther, to be taken prisoner by the drost."

"Right, my trusty Rané. The thought is worth gold. Lock the concealed door after me. Are our people at the back gate?"

"All is in perfect order and security, sir knight," said the young man-at-arms, with emphasis, winking; "and not a soul can know that you have been here, if she, there, can be silent:" here he pointed dubiously towards Aasé, who stood looking with a wild, flashing eye from the window. "Tarry no longer, sire. I hear them upon the tower-stairs."

"Betray, with a single word, whom you have seen, and you are dead!" whispered the nobleman, hurriedly, to the terrified maiden; and, in an instant, he had disappeared through a concealed door in the panel.

The young soldier hastily withdrew the key from the door, and flung it, from the window, into the back court; he then fell in a supplicating posture at the young girl's feet. "Have pity on an unhappy lover, fair, good-natured Aasé. Thou incomparable fisher-maid," he began, in a shrill, piping voice, "for thy sake, I have exposed myself to the greatest danger, and to the anger of our righteous king; for thy sake, I dared to make use of the king's name, when I took thee prisoner."

"And, for thy sake, I will soil my fingers upon such an abominable hag's face," answered the girl, giving him a few hearty boxes on the ear, which he appeared to take patiently, continuing, the while, to set forth his feigned love tale.

He was still talking in the same strain, and had laid hold of Aasé's apron, when Drost Peter and his squire, together with the warden and a band of armed fishermen, entered the door.

"In the king's name, Chamberlain Rané, you are my prisoner," said Drost Peter: "bind him, lads!"

The page rose, as it taken by surprise. "Stern sir drost," he said, with an impudent smile, "you best know yourself the power of beauty over the heart, without distinction of rank or station. You have detected me in an indiscretion, which, at our time of life, one does wisest to judge with forbearance. At most, you have seen with what little success I have sought to tame this lovely wild-cat. If you venture on taking me prisoner, good: our common lord shall decide which of us is the more blameworthy."

With these words, he gave up his short sword, without opposition, into the drost's hands, and permitted his own to be bound by Claus Skirmen, who performed this ordinary part of a squire's duties with the greatest dexterity, at the same time casting a look at the pretty little Aasé, whose dark, sparkling eyes ran over the bystanders, as if anxiously in search of some one.

"My child! my Aasé!" sounded, at length, from a man's deep voice at the door; and, with the lively exclamation, "Grandfather! dear grandfather!" she flew into old Henner's arms, and overpowered him with her childish caresses, without observing his wounds, which, however little he regarded them himself, had nevertheless considerably exhausted him.

Drost Peter Hessel and his squire had come over the Belt in the storm, with a large company of travellers. On the road from Gremermarsh quay to the town, they had met with the armourer Troels, the ferrymen, and a band of burghers, in search of Henner Friser and the robbers. Drost Peter had landed from the vessel, with a shaggy cap over his ears, and a large boatman's jerkin over his knight's dress. They were the last to land; and, before the young nobleman had mounted his horse, he had taken off the borrowed cap and jerkin, thrown his scarlet cloak upon his shoulders, and placed his feathered hat upon his head. Without troubling himself about the other travellers, he was ready, at the moment, to assist the burghers against the supposed robbers. The rest of the travellers, tired with their boisterous passage, were only anxious to reach the inn, to rest and refresh themselves.

On the quay of Gremermarsh, there still stood, however, in the changing moonlight, a boatman, with his arm in a bandage, by the side of a tall, knightly figure, in full black armour, with the visor of his helmet down. They appeared to talk earnestly and secretly, and, from time to time, pointed to the skiff that had newly arrived, and to a smaller boat, by which the mailed knight had seemingly come, and which lay somewhat apart, below the wood that skirted the Middelfert sound. The boatman had arrived with the large company, and appeared to be informing the knight whence they had come and whom they had brought. They at length separated. The boatman nodded respectfully; and, notwithstanding his wound, seemed to take upon himself the execution of some commission with which he was entrusted by the stately stranger. He departed, with hasty strides, towards the wood where the little boat lay; while the knight took, alone, and with thoughtful steps, the road to the town.

Although neither Henner Friser nor his pretty granddaughter was present, the travellers were received at the inn, by the people of the house, with the usual attentions. They had placed before them a flagon of ale, and a large dish of stewed flounders, of which they had always abundance. With these the greater part of the company appeared to be satisfied, as it was Friday, and they were required to observe a fast. Not so, however, were they all.

"Away with these wretched flounders! We want a hearty meal of flesh," said a long, meagre gentleman, with a sagacious but proud and arrogant countenance, and strong, passionate-looking features. "For your lives and healths' sake, I give you all an indulgence, as far as the day is concerned," he added, with the mien and authority of a pope: "for the sake of human infirmities, I am authorised to do this."

The flounders were immediately taken away, and a large dish of salt meat substituted in their place. This change the majority of the company loudly applauded, but the ecclesiastic was now offended. Notwithstanding the blue travelling dress he wore, his rank was distinguishable by the black calotte that concealed his tonsure; and, notwithstanding his leanness, he appeared accustomed to better and richer fare. He vehemently decided that the accommodation for distinguished travellers, in this new and only licensed place of entertainment, was wretched; and that, when the king thought proper to meddle in domestic matters, and prohibit people, both lay and clerical, from entertaining strangers, he ought to take care that there were ordinary cooks in such taverns.

This discontented gentleman was the only ecclesiastic in the company. He was usually called Master Grand and Sir Dean; and all treated him with the greatest respect. The rest were chiefly knights, and other distinguished laymen, with large plumes of feathers in their hats, and short travelling cloaks, fringed with sable, of the finest German or English cloth, and of the most various colours, according to their own or their ladies' tastes. Their doublets were, for the most part, of the same colour and material, with a slit in the centre, and ornamented with gashed edges, in the fashion of foreign knights. This profuse style of dress had, long before, been forbidden in Denmark; and this contempt for a law that was observed everywhere around denoted these gentlemen to belong to the bold and disaffected aristocratical party.

A tall young man, in a scarlet cloak, with a haughty countenance and princely manners, appeared to be the most distinguished in the company. An elderly personage, with a firm, warlike bearing, and in a large cloak of English blue cloth, seemed likewise to be an individual of some note. Some of the younger gentlemen shone forth in suits of bright yellow, flame colour, and green. A few of the more elderly wore brown and liver-coloured doublets and mantles. There were nearly as many squires as there were knights; and their inferior rank was discernible by their plain hats, and by their chequered and less, expensive cloaks of Scottish cloth.

A young, cheerful individual, who did not appear to belong to the knights and their train, but attached himself with particular attention to the ecclesiastic, was distinguished by his civility and pleasing manners, although his unusual corpulency would only allow him to perform any rapid motion with difficulty. His round, good-natured face beamed with life and jollity. Round his short brown jerkin he wore a broad leather belt, with a large knife and fork, a horn spoon, a pepper-box, and a number of other tools and appliances pertaining to the kitchen and pantry. He had listened with great attention to the discontented ecclesiastic's denunciation of the entertainment, while his look often glanced upon a plain wooden box, which he had carried from the ship himself, and which was now deposited in a corner, near the kitchen-door.

"Spoken after my own poor heart, worthy sir dean," he at length said, with a respectful mien, and yet with a kind of sly humour. "These royal hostelries will certainly bring the land to ruin. 'They are dung-pits,' as said our worthy Abbot of Ry, in his much-admired fast sermon; 'they are dung-pits, where every carrion bird gathers, and where the eagle and crow must eat out of the same dish.' They have brought true hospitality to decay; and now, as a necessary consequence, harmony and jollity, mirth and the noble art of cookery, have come to the ground together. Nevertheless, in half an hour's time, I shall prepare my worthy masters such a repast as shall make us all forget these doleful times, and reconcile us to this godless world."

"Right, my son," said the churchman, patting him on the shoulder. "Do not bury thy rare talents. Have a care for our present wants, cook Morten, and trouble not thyself about the preacher."

Whilst the travelling cook took his box and proceeded to the kitchen to prepare his entertainment, without heeding the growlings of the servants, the gentleman in the blue cloak made a trial of the liquor, which stood in a pewter tankard.

"What! filthy Danish pors-ale!"^[7] he exclaimed, and dashed the tankard to the ground. "Fie for Satan! do the rascals mean to treat us to such trash? Saxon ale we shall have, and that immediately."

"German ale, that sets people a-crowing, we do not serve here," answered a bold fellow, who acted as tapster: "it is as strictly forbidden by the king as are the slashed doublets of yourself and these gentlemen. If, therefore, you are not contented with what we have got, the door is open; but rough words and fault-finding, neither Henner Friser nor his servants put lip with."

The gentleman in blue started, and regarded the man with surprise.

"Shameless fellow! do you know to whom you are talking?" roared the churchman, the veins of his forehead swelling with rage. "Where a gentleman of the blood royal is present, even a master and a dean is a mean man. A bumpkin like you should not grumble, were we to scrub your ears with your besom, and fling your villanous Danish ale over your dunderhead!"

"Be pacified, good Master Grand," said the young gentleman of the scarlet cloak: "the fellow, truly, did not know us, and only maintains the credit of his master. If you have any German ale in the house, produce it on my responsibility," he added, turning to the tapster, while he flung down a handful of silver coin upon the table.

The man was surprised, and loitered.

"Quick, now!" continued the young lord: "it is Duke Waldemar who commands you. The king's prohibition, to which you have already sagely adverted in reference to our doublets, does not extend to me and my followers."

"So you may understand the matter, mighty lord," answered the man, bluntly; "but my master says, that, on Danish ground, the king's law and prohibition extend to both gentle and simple. There is a butt of old German ale in the cellar, which has not been touched for five and twenty years; but, before my master comes home and so orders it himself, I shall not tap a single stoup of it, even if all of you were popes and emperors."

"Let the saucy rogue be thrown out of doors, my lord duke!" exclaimed Master Grand, in a passion; and a couple of squires drew near, with zealous alacrity, and seemed only to be waiting for a nod to carry the proposal into execution.

The blood mounted to the young nobleman's cheeks, and he cast a threatening look at the tapster; but his senior, in the blue cloak, caught him by the arm.

"Delay a little, sir cousin," he muttered, in a half whisper. "Let me advise. Here we must be good patriots. The king's grace rode his cock-horse by the side of Margaret's stallion,"^[8] he then continued, with a loud voice, "when he performed this exploit, and stuck pegs for taps into German ale-barrels. It was a brave action, we must allow: it will be long before I achieve as much as a general. At the same time, he made his appearance in a new light, and became our instructor in the noble art of tailoring. Like good patriots, let us now drink this pors-ale to his honour, and have our doublets sewn up like honest Danish frocks, that they may see at court that we are as true and obedient subjects as John Little and David Thorstenson, and as upright friends to this kind of garment as the king himself, and the queen's handsome friend, Drost Peter Hosel.^[9] Now, then, the king's health in thin ale, since there is no better: the king's health, my lords!"

This satire, accompanied by a scornful smile, occasioned a burst of laughter, and all drank, or pretended to drink, of the despised liquor.

"Every one shall drink the toast who is not a spy or a traitor," continued the warlike lord in blue: "no distinction of rank or station is permitted here. Come, thou fair swain: drink the king's health in this precious pors-water."

"I would have a care of my manners," answered the tapster: "I am too mean to join in the revels of such distinguished company."

"Understand, then, that Count Jacob of Halland, as the king's vassal, allows you to be chastised as a traitor and secret rebel," continued the lord in blue. "Drag him out, and give him a hearty salute with the stirrup-straps," said he to the squires. "We have all heard that he is a rebel who will not drink the king's health."

The stern decree was executed in a moment, notwithstanding a brave resistance made by the strong fellow.

"This is the way to baste the fellows with their own lard," growled Count Jacob, as, with a haughty air, he threw himself carelessly back on his bench.

"Perhaps a little too hard," said the young duke, yet smiling contentedly; while all laughed heartily at the rough joke, which did not seem to them at all unusual, or in anywise dangerous.

The allusion to King Erik Christopherson's edicts respecting ale and slashed doublets, which had given rise to this scene, was followed by many jocular remarks on various other of the king's municipal regulations, which they affected to extol, whilst, at the same time, they were striving to present them in the most ridiculous point of view, or as childish and absurd. The stern Ribe-Ret,^[10] in particular, was the subject of many coarse jokes.

The conversation was brought to a close by the entrance, with a large dish of seasoned meat, of the indefatigable cook, who invited the company to prove whether he had not attained a more worthy post than in cooking prison-fare for the hermits of Sjöberg.

"Should I--as, nevertheless, I hope I shall not," he added--"have to wait on any of my good lords in my celebrated castle, I am glad that, beforehand, I have had an opportunity of vindicating my honour with those who, not without success, have studied the art of cookery in the most learned chapter-houses in the kingdom."

"Thou art a rogue, Morten!" said Master Grand, playfully threatening him. "My pious colleagues taught thee first, perhaps, to sign thyself with the token of self-denial; but thy round cheeks bear witness thou art a carnal child of the world, who hath transferred his learning to ladles and carving-knives."

"Not without a bright and illustrious example," answered the cook, with a cunning smile. "Were I, in troth, your cook, as I am now a godless provider for state-prisoners, you could not help being soon as plump as I and your worthy colleagues."

He now began, like a busy host, to serve out his viands, and selected the choicest morsels for his new ecclesiastical patron. He afterwards brought from the kitchen a large wooden bowl, and, with many eulogiums, recommended the strengthening and enlivening beverage it contained, as the fruit of his own invention.

"Spiced wine!" exclaimed Count Jacob. "Thou art a most excellent fellow, Morten! This, then, was the sacred church-treasure that thou and sir dean contended for so lustily in the storm, when we were obliged to throw all our worldly goods overboard!"

"Thus it is that virtue and good deeds are rewarded, even in the present life," answered the cook. "And I hope that worthy Master Grand does not now repent that he so piously took my sacred bottle under his protection."

The knights praised the excellent liquor, and became merry and noisy. Cook Morten poured out for them, and sang them wanton ditties. All would join with him; and every one sang the song that pleased himself best, without troubling himself about those of others. At length, a well-known song obtained the ascendancy, in the midst of general laughter: it was a tolerably witty and satirical ballad, relating to the king and his favourites, particularly concerning Drost Peter Hessel, whom it sometimes nicknamed Peter Hosel (stocking-garter), and sometimes Sir Lovmand (lawyer), with coarse inuendoes on the relation in which he was accused of standing to the queen.

In the midst of this uproar, the tall mailed knight, with the closed visor, who had followed them from the quay, entered unobserved, and seated himself in a dark nook, near the door.

"See, now there is some life in the game," said the cook, snuffing the candles; "now it is quite a pleasure to tend upon my worthy masters."