elder held her fast by the hand, and turned to the king, with calm
self-possession, looking him steadily in the face with her large dark
blue eyes. "King Eric Ericson," she said, "thine enemy's children are
in thine hand: we are fatherless and persecuted maidens; no one dares
to give us shelter in our native land; and our last friend and
protector hath now been slain by thy men. Our father was the unhappy
outlawed Marsk Stig."
"Marsk Stig's daughters!--the regicide's children!" interrupted the
king, casting on them a look of displeasure. "Ye meant then to have
completed your father's crime? Are ye roaming the country round with
robbers and regicides?"
"We are innocent, King Eric!" answered the maiden, laying her hand upon
her heart. "May the Lord as surely forgive thee our father's death, and
the blood which flows here! Vengeance belongeth to the Lord. We wished
but to quit thy kingdom."
"And ye would also have me depart this world," interrupted the king.
"They must be taken to Kallundborg castle," said he to the huntsmen.
"The affair shall be inquired into; if they can clear themselves they
may leave the kingdom. Away with them; I will not look on them." So
saying, the king turned his horse's head to avoid the sight of the fair
unfortunate, who for an instant appeared to have softened his wrath.
No one had viewed the captive maidens with more compassion than Drost
Aage. "My liege," said he, in an under tone, "how could the innocent
maidens help----?"
"That the arrow slew none of us?" interrupted the king hastily. "I dare
say they were not to blame for that. Wolf's cubs should never be
trusted; they shall meet with their deserts. Away with them."
"Then permit me to escort them, my liege," resumed Drost Aage. "If a
knight's daughters be led to prison, knightly protection is still owing
them on their way thither."
"Well, go with them, Drost," answered the king aloud, waving his hand
as he spoke. "They shall be treated with all chivalrous deference and
honour; ye will be answerable for them on your honour and fealty." The
king then put spurs into his impatient steed, and galloped off,
followed by the Marsk, the Swedish knights, and the whole of the train,
with the exception of Drost Aage and four huntsmen.
The elder of the captive maidens still held her sister's hand clasped
in her own. She had approached the body of the slain squire, beside
which she knelt, bending over his head. Drost Aage had dismounted from
his horse, and stood close by with the bridle in his hand, and with his
arm on the saddle-bow. It seemed as though the sight of the kneeling
maiden had changed him into a statue.
The restless movements of the younger maiden did not attract his
attention; his gaze dwelt only on the kneeling form: she seemed in his
eyes as an angel of love and pity praying for the sinner's soul. He
observed a tear trickle down her fair pale cheek, and could no longer
restrain the expression of his sympathy. "Be comforted, noble maiden!"
he exclaimed, with emotion; "no evil shall befall you. The man you
mourn for may perhaps have been true and faithful to you, but (were he
not struck with sudden madness) he fell here as a great criminal. Carry
the dead man to Esrom," he said to two of the huntsmen; "entreat the
abbot in my name to grant him Christian burial, and sing a mass for his
soul." They instantly obeyed, and bore away the body. The kneeling
maiden arose.
"Let me provide for your safety," continued Aage. "Ere your case has
been inquired into according to law, you cannot quit the kingdom; but I
pledge my word and honour King Eric will never permit your father's
guilt to make him forget what is due to your rank and sex."
"If we are really your prisoners. Sir Knight," said the elder sister,
"then, in the name of our blessed Lady, lead us to our prison; promise
me only that you will not separate us, and that you will not be severe
to my poor sister."
"Neither for yourself nor for your sister, noble maiden, need you fear
aught like harsh treatment; and if you, as I hope and believe, can
justify yourselves, your captivity will assuredly not be a long one."
"Our life and freedom are in the Lord's hand--not in man's," said the
eldest sister, in a tone of resignation. "In this world we have now no
friends. Our father's meanest squire sacrificed his life for us; he
whom he made a knight forsook us in the hour of need," she added in a
low voice.
Drost Aage now gazed with increased sympathy on the calm pale maiden,
and was cut to the heart by the expression of dignified sorrow in her
countenance, called forth by the consciousness of her desolate
condition.
"I will be your friend and protector so long as I live!" he exclaimed
with visible emotion. "That I pledge myself to be on my knightly word
and honour."
"The Lord and our dear blessed Lady reward you for that," answered the
fair captive. "You seem to wish us well; but if you are King Eric's
friend, you must certainly hate us for our father's sake."
"Assuredly I am King Eric's friend!" said Aage, the blood mounting to
his cheek as he spoke, "but I cannot therefore hate you. If you, as I
fully believe, are innocent of what hath just now happened, as a knight
and as a Christian also I owe you and all the defenceless friendly
consolation and protection."
The horses of the two huntsmen who had quitted the party had been
meanwhile led forward, and had their saddles arranged so as to admit of
the maidens riding without danger or difficulty. The younger sister was
first mounted. She had not as yet uttered a word, but had gazed
restlessly around, occupied apparently in forming conjectures of the
most contradictory nature. At one moment she appeared dejected and
ready to weep, at another her bright eyes sparkled with animation, and
she seemed to meditate a venturous flight, while the next she looked
with an air of queen-like authority at the courteous young knight and
the two huntsmen, as if she had but to command to be obeyed. It was not
until she was firmly seated in the saddle, with the bridle in her hand,
that she seemed fearless and at her ease. "Let us speed on then," she
said with sportive gaiety.
"What though full small the palfreys be,
'Tis better to ride than on foot to flee."
"If this knight is our guardian and protector, it is of course his duty
to defend us. At a royal castle, besides, they must know how to give us
royal entertainment."
"We wend not to yon dark castle as honoured guests," replied her
sister; "but keep up thy spirits, Ulrica, all the hairs of our head are
numbered." So saying, she allowed herself to be placed on horseback;
and Drost Aage was presently riding between his two fair captives
through Esrom forest, followed by the two huntsmen.
CHAP. IV.
The party rode on for some time in silence and at an easy pace through
the dusky forest. The elder sister sat with drooping head, and seemed
lost in melancholy thought; but on reaching an open place in the
forest, from whence they had an unclouded view of the star-lit heavens,
she looked up, and the star-light seemed to be reflected in her soft
blue eye, while her countenance was irradiated by an expression of that
inward peace which springs from the stedfast hope of a blessed
immortality. "God's heaven is vast, and beautiful, and calm, indeed,"
she exclaimed, in a gently tremulous tone. "In God's kingdom above no
one is outlawed or persecuted."
"And no soul shut out from love and mercy," added the young Drost,
painfully reminded of his separation from the church, which he felt
but too deeply; "yet, even here, noble lady!" he continued, with
calmness--"even here, God's kingdom can and will come to us--that we
daily pray for. But what avails it, that we look for the peace of
Heaven ere we have it within our own hearts! It is my belief that God's
kingdom may be found every where."
"Assuredly you are right," said the gentle maiden, regarding him with
friendly sympathy; "you must likewise have known what sorrow is, noble
knight! but Christ and our blessed Lady have given you the grace to
overcome evil with good. This I can see in your eyes, and hear in your
voice, though you are a brave and redoubted knight."
"Would you were right touching _such_ victory, noble maiden!" answered
Aage, "but evil is so mighty in the world, that no knight should vaunt
himself of having overcome it; the noblest of monarchs overcomes not
evil in his own kingdom, and scarcely even in his own heart."
"Yes, in his own heart he surely must!" said the maiden; "but you are
right after all, the power belongs not to man." They rode on for
another hour in silence, and drew near to Esrom monastery.
"The young King Eric looked as though he were good," resumed the elder
maiden, at length; "sternly as he spoke to us, I still could not fear
him; and our just rights he would not deny us; only thus doth anger
beseem a king."
"My liege and sovereign is impetuous," said Aage; "he is strict, but
just; and there is assuredly no knight in Christendom who more
faithfully observes all the noble laws of chivalry."
"If that be true," exclaimed the maiden, with a suppressed sigh, "then
I am thankful even for the misfortune which now brings us this way; had
I even been myself the cause of our faithful foster-father's death,"
she added, after a pause, "his blood will nevertheless not be upon my
head."
"How mean ye, noble maiden?" asked Aage, starting. "I understand you
not."
"Had my father's faithful squire but hit the mark he aimed at,"
answered the maiden, "you and all King Eric's faithful friends would
now have had more to sorrow for than we. His arrow never missed the
eagle in his flight"--she paused, as if hesitating to say more: "yet
you shall know it," she continued--"had not my sister shrieked, had I
not clung to the archer's arm, he would surely have been alive and safe
among us at this moment, while ye wept the death of your liege and
sovereign. But praised be St. Cecilia! it were better it chanced as it
did, were even King Eric not so good and just as you say he is."
"Assuredly, noble maiden!" exclaimed Aage, in astonishment, "you have
been the means of averting the greatest misery: knew ye that
miscreant's intention?"
"I knew he had sworn the king's death, for our father's sake, and that
he would keep his vow. He meant to flee with us out of the country; but
when the hunting train approached, we hid ourselves: he recognised the
king, and instantly seized the cross-bow"--she stopped and burst into
tears.
"You have followed a fearful guide," said Aage, in a low voice; "weep
not for his death. Although you knew his fell purpose, your soul hath
been rescued from sharing his crime, and the king hath to thank you for
his life. Yet would you had been ignorant of that madman's purpose!
Such dangerous information you should never have confided to me."
"Why, then, did you question me of it, Sir Knight!"
The colour mounted to Aage's cheek, and he paused for a moment. "A
crazed murderer was, then, your only friend and protector," he resumed;
"his accursed scheme of revenge could not have been frustrated had you
not known it! Had you but other witnesses, besides yourself and your
sister, of your conduct towards him! yet, I dare confirm your testimony
with my blood, and with my sword: be comforted! With the Lord's
blessing, you shall never need to fly from Denmark;--instead of the
captivity to which I am now forced to lead you, my just sovereign owes
you thanks and honour."
"That we can never look for from King Eric," answered Margaretha; "all
doors and all hearts here are now shut against Marsk Stig's children;
if the king will but grant us permission to quit the country, we will
thank him, and pray for him in our exile. The world is wide, and there
are Christian souls in other lands also."
"Courage, Margaretha!" exclaimed the youngest sister, who had listened
with eager interest and sparkling eyes. "If King Eric be as just and
chivalrous a prince as he looks to be, and as this good knight says he
is, there cannot be the least doubt that he must acquit us, and restore
to us our inheritance, with royal compensation for all we have lost."
"Alas, dear sister!" answered Margaretha, in a melancholy and
beseeching tone, "gold and lands cannot replace what we have lost. The
happiness and honour which this world and its rulers can give us we
should no longer seek, but rather aspire to higher blessings."
"You hear, Sir Knight! that my pious sister is already half nun and
saint," said the younger sister, gaily playing with a sparkling rosary
of rubies and diamonds, which she had until now concealed under her
neck-kerchief. "If you will defend our cause like a brave knight, she
will assuredly pray piously for you in a nunnery; but if I ever come,
by your help, to the station which is my birthright, I will not forget
you either in my prosperity."
Drost Aage was startled; he bowed courteously, in answer to this
address, while he turned his horse aside in silence, leaving the
sisters to ride side by side.
"Hush, hush, good Ulrica!" whispered Margaretha, who glowed crimson at
her sister's speech; "thou knowest not thyself what thou sayest, but it
doth disgrace us in the eyes of the stranger knight."
"I know well enough what I say," answered the capricious maiden, with a
scornful toss of the head, "and if _thou_ wilt not vaunt thyself of our
high descent, depend on it, _I_ will; charity begins at home, and I
have often heard that no knight's daughter in Denmark's kingdom hath
ever had a greater man for a father."
"Alas! that greatness is our misfortune," said Margaretha, with a sigh;
"dearest sister, repeat not to any human being what you have just now
said! Ask not my reasons! I can never tell them thee; but thank God
thou knowest not all!"
"Art thou beginning with thy riddles again?" said her sister,
pettishly, as she looked inquisitively at her; "what in all the world
canst _thou_ know, which _I_ know not. If thou wilt not confide every
thing to me, when we two are alone, I will never more be so foolishly
fond of thee. Thou art, indeed, quite insufferable at times, however
pious and excellent thou may'st be."
While this little dispute was passing between the sisters, Aage's
attention was diverted from them by the sound of the tramping of
horses' hoofs, and of loud talk. They were just then passing the gate
of Esrom monastery, from whence a party of richly attired knights rode
forth, with some ecclesiastics among them. It was Prince Christopher
and the Margrave of Brandenborg, with the Swedish Drost Bruncke and the
Abbot of Esrom, who, with several priests and knights, accompanied a
tall ecclesiastic of foreign appearance, and wearing the red hat of a
cardinal. Aage instantly recognised the papal nuncio, Cardinal Isarnus.
The sight of this powerful prelate inspired Aage with a feeling akin to
dread, and with a presentiment of coming evil, he was, besides,
ill-pleased to see him in Prince Christopher's company; he desired not
to encounter them, and would have hastily turned into a bye-road, but
the unusual sight of two peasant girls on horseback, accompanied by a
knight and two of the king's huntsmen, had already attracted the
prince's attention; he hastily rode up, followed by two knights, to
ascertain who they were.
"Ha! indeed! Drost Aage," said the prince, in a scornful tone, "the
preacher of our strict laws of chivalry, are ye carrying off _two_
pretty maidens at once? I think you might content yourself with one--if
I see aright, these fair ones are of a somewhat higher class than they
care to pass for; speak, who are they?"
"The unfortunate daughters of Marsk Stig, noble junker!" answered Aage;
"I am escorting them, by the king's orders, as state prisoners, to
Kallundborg."
"The viper brood of the regicide!" exclaimed the prince, while a dark
crimson hue suddenly overspread his countenance. "Well! this is an
excellent capture. Throw them into the subterranean dungeon; they shall
never more see the light of day."
The younger sister shrieked in alarm at this wild threat, but the elder
made a sign to her to be silent, and endeavoured to tranquillize her
fears.
"They are to be treated with justice, and with all chivalrous deference
and honour," answered Aage, calmly; "such is my sovereign's will and
express command, which I shall punctually obey."
"_I_ am governor of Kallundborg, Drost!" called the prince, in wrath;
"the state prisoners sent thither are under my control. Ride with them,
Palle! give my orders to the jailor! you are answerable for their being
obeyed!" He now said a few words to one of his train, but in so low a
tone as to be unheard by every one else, and then turned his horse, and
rode back to his party. Each now pursued their separate road, but the
knight who had received the prince's private orders joined Drost Aage
and his prisoners.
This unwelcome companion was a fat, short-necked personage, with a
repulsive expression in his crimson-coloured full-moon visage. He was
generally called the rich Sir Palle, and made himself conspicuous by
the costly, but not tasteful, splendour of his dress and riding
accoutrements, which he prided himself on being able to compare in
value with the king's. He sought by an affectation of youthful gaiety
to conceal his age, which very closely bordered on fifty. He was still
a bachelor, but was an unwearied wooer, and greatly desired to pass
for a doughty knight, and an irresistible invader of the hearts of the
fair of every rank. He was not liked by the king, but was a hanger-on
of Prince Christopher, to whom he was appointed gentleman of the
bed-chamber. He was in bad repute among the lower class, on account of
several adventures, little creditable to himself, which were circulated
throughout the country in satirical ballads. He rode for some time in
silence by Drost Aage's side, apparently annoyed at being despatched on
this unlooked-for errand. Aage was silent also, and pursued the journey
without noticing him.
"My presence is troublesome to you, perhaps, Sir Drost!" exclaimed
Palle, at last breaking silence. "This mission is not to my taste
either. The prince was in his stern mood to-day; when that is the case
he will not bear contradiction, or I should gladly have begged to
decline the journey. Where _you_ act in the king's name, I well know
that _I_, as the junker's deputy, might just as well be absent."
"Truly, I think so likewise, Sir Palle!" answered Aage, in a tone of
indifference, as he quickened his horse's pace.
"It is all one to me whether your captives receive hard or gentle
treatment," continued Sir Palle; "but if I bring not my lord's commands
to the jailor at Kallundborg, you see yourself, I shall draw down the
junker's wrath upon me, and that I have no mind to do for the sake of a
couple of vagabonds."
"Perhaps you heard not what I told the prince of the name and rank of
these ladies?" asked Aage, measuring his rude companion with a look of
defiance, while he slackened his horse's pace; "even without regard to
their birth, you owe them respect, as honourable Danish maidens, and
for the present moment I am their protector against every insult."
"Ho, ho! you are somewhat hasty, Sir Drost!" answered Palle, "who
thinks of insulting the pretty maidens? what though they may have
scoured the country round, without stockings and shoes, they should not
be thought the less of for that; they are now going to be led,
according to their rank, to an honourable state prison. I perceive the
fair prisoners have already captured our chivalrous Drost, by way of
reprisal."
Drost Aage coloured deeply at this jeering speech. "By your leave, Sir
Palle!" he said, with suppressed wrath, "here lies the road to
Kallundborg; it is long and broad enough for us all, and we need not be
troublesome to each other; if ye will ride on before or follow behind,
we will accommodate ourselves accordingly; but if you desire to honour
us any longer with your company, you must behave courteously, or you
understand me----." He struck on the hilt of his sword, and was silent.
"Well, well, either before or behind, or courteously in the middle--or
fighting? These, are indeed four pleasant alternatives," answered
Palle. "With your permission, I choose the third, as the happy medium,
and purpose, in all peace and courtesy, to remain in such fair company.
I have hardly seen the ladies as yet;" so saying, he rode up between
the sisters, whom he greeted with a bold and scrutinizing stare. "What
in all the world is this?" he suddenly exclaimed, in the greatest
astonishment, as he looked at the youngest sister; "Gundelille! do I
see _you_ here? Mean you to befool the Drost also? Would you now give
yourself out to be Marsk Stig's daughter? The other day you were but
the farmer's daughter at Hedegaard."
"Yes, I was so _then_," answered Ulrica, laughing; "Gundelille is my
name still in the ballad of 'Sir Palle wooing the driver.' Perhaps you
have not heard it, Sir Palle? I will gladly sing it you; it is vastly
entertaining."
If any part of Sir Palle's visage was before wanting in a crimson hue,
the deficiency was now fully remedied; he seemed highly enraged; but
the sight of Ulrica's arch little face appeared to produce such an
effect upon him that he could not give vent to his anger. He spurred
his horse, and had nearly pushed the ladies into the ditch, as he
suddenly dashed past them.
"Know ye this knight, noble lady?" asked Aage, in surprise.
"Oh yes! tolerably well," answered Ulrica, laughing. "I once played off
a little joke upon him."
"It was indeed a daring frolic of my sister's, Sir Knight!" interrupted
Margaretha. "Sir Palle had long plagued her, and she thought she could
not in any other way get rid of his importunity; but it was wrong, no
doubt; he became a laughing stock, and an object of general ridicule in
consequence; and if you do not now prevent it, he bids fair to avenge
himself."
"But what was it you did?" asked Aage. Ulrica laughed, and would have
told the story, but her sister laid hold of her arm. "Silence, dear
Ulrica! here we have him again," she whispered, and Ulrica was silent.
Sir Palle had checked his horse, and joined them again. He seemed
perfectly to have recovered his self-possession. He assured Drost Aage
that he was so far from desiring such captives should be harshly
treated, that he even wished it were possible entirely to free them
from imprisonment. "I have seen them before," he added, "and had I
known who they were, they should not now have been on their way to
prison." Shortly afterwards he again rode in between the maidens.
"Pitiless Gundelille," he whispered, "speak no more of that cruel
story. I meant not to wrong you; had I known you were the daughter of a
noble knight, I would have proffered hand and heart, in all reverence
and honour, and even now were I so fortunate as to find favour in your
lovely eyes----"
Without looking at him, Ulrica began to sing,
"List ye then, Sir Palle!
No wrong do ye to me,
When mass is sung and ended,
In my car shall ye seated be."
"Sing not that accursed song, fairest of maidens!" interrupted Sir
Palle; "I will not offend you; but believe me, loveliest of the
lovely----"
Without heeding him, she now sang aloud,
"And then she clad her driver lad
In purple robe so rare;
In the driver's suit was quickly clad
Gundelill', that maiden fair."
"Hush! I will not say a word more," interrupted Sir Palle again. "But
if you knew how greatly I love and honour you----"
The sportive maiden set up a loud laugh, and continued to sing,
"Sir Palle then, the wealthy knight,
Enters the car full bold,
Salutes the driver with delight
And in his arms doth fold.
"It was the lady Gundelille
Who drove into the yard;
She laughed, I tell ye, heartily
At the jest he deemed so hard."
"Ha!~ that jest you shall dearly rue," whispered Palle, in a rage. "You
sing sweetly," he said aloud; "remember you the whole ballad, fair
lady? If you sing another verse," he whispered, "it shall cost you
dear."
"Hush, dearest sister!" said Margaretha, in a tone of earnest entreaty;
and Ulrica was silent.