order and prepared to pronounce the fatal formula against Ordener, who
remained calm and motionless, when a side door opened to the right of
the bench.
An officer of the Church entered and announced his reverence, the bishop
of Throndhjem. He entered hurriedly, accompanied by another
ecclesiastic, on whose arm he leaned.
“Stop, Mr. President!” he exclaimed with a strength of which a man of
his age seemed hardly capable. “Stop! Heaven be praised! I am in time.”
The audience listened with renewed interest, foreseeing some fresh
development. The president turned angrily to the bishop: “Allow me to
inform your reverence that your presence here is wholly unnecessary. The
court is about to degrade from his rank the prisoner, who will suffer
the penalty of his crime directly.”
“Forbear,” said the bishop, “to lay hands on one who is pure in the
sight of God. The prisoner is innocent.”
The cry of astonishment which burst from the spectators was only matched
by the cry of terror uttered by the president and private secretary.
“Yes, tremble, judges!” resumed the bishop, before the president could
recover his usual presence of mind; “tremble! for you are about to shed
innocent blood.”
As the president’s agitation died away, Ordener arose in consternation.
The noble youth feared lest his generous ruse had been discovered, and
proofs of Schumacker’s guilt had been found.
“Bishop,” said the president, “in this affair crime seems to evade us,
being transferred from one to another. Do not trust to any mere
appearance. If Ordener Guldenlew be innocent, who, then, is guilty?”
“Your grace shall know,” replied the bishop. Then showing the court an
iron casket which a servant had brought in behind him: “Noble lords, you
have judged in darkness; within this casket is the miraculous light
which shall dissipate that darkness.”
The president, private secretary, and Ordener, all seemed amazed at the
sight of the mysterious casket.
The bishop added: “Noble judges, hear me. To-day, as I returned to my
palace, to rest from the fatigues of the night and to pray for the
prisoners, I received this sealed iron box. The keeper of the Spladgest,
I was told, brought it to the palace this morning to be given to me,
declaring that it undoubtedly contained some Satanic charm, as he had
found it on the body of the sacrilegious Benignus Spiagudry, which had
just been fished out of Lake Sparbo.”
Ordener listened more eagerly than ever. All the spectators were as
still as death. The president and private secretary hung their heads
guiltily. They seemed to have lost all their cunning and audacity. There
is a moment in the life of every sinner when his power vanishes.
“After blessing this casket,” continued the bishop, “we broke the seal,
which, as you can still see, bears the ancient and now extinct arms of
Griffenfeld. We did indeed find a devilish secret within. You shall
judge for yourselves, venerable sirs. Lend me your most earnest
attention, for human blood is at stake, and the Lord will hold you
accountable for every drop that you may shed.”
Then opening the terrible casket, he drew forth a slip of parchment,
upon which was written the following testimony:--
I, Blaxtham Cumbysulsum, doctor, being about to die, do declare
that of my own free will and pleasure I have placed in the hands of
Captain Dispolsen, the agent, at Copenhagen, of the former Count
Griffenfeld, the enclosed document, drawn up wholly by the hand of
Turiaf Musdœmon, servant of the chancellor, Count d’Ahlefeld, to
the end that the said captain may make such use of it as shall seem
to him best; and I pray God to pardon my crimes.
Given under my hand and seal at Copenhagen, this eleventh day of
January, 1699.