CHAP. VII.
On the evening of the second day Drost Aage had not as yet returnedfrom his expedition, as the protector of Marsk Stig's captivedaughters. He had conducted them without impediment to the king'scastle at Vordingborg; but as he was about to ride into the archedgateway he was attacked from behind, and dangerously wounded, by anunknown hand. Aage was carried, in a state of insensibility, into thecastle, while his huntsmen vainly pursued his stealthy foe, in whomthey thought they recognised the same tall horseman in peasant attire,and mounted upon the little Zealand horse without a saddle, whom theyhad several times seen on the road, but who always vanished as suddenlyas he had appeared, and who they conjectured must have followed theirtrack by secret paths from Esrom.
The commandant at Vordingborg had received the wounded knight, withgreat alarm; he instantly recognised in him the young Drost, and thefavourite of the king. As soon as Drost Aage had recovered hisconsciousness, he informed the commandant of the rank and position ofthe two ladies, and also that they were to be considered as stateprisoners, for whose security he would be responsible, although theirstay here was to be rendered as agreeable as under such circumstancesit was possible to make it. The commandant instantly ordered the gatesto be barred, and sentinels to be stationed; but he threw open theinterior of the castle without reserve to his guests, and a messengerwas dispatched to inform the king of what had happened.
Meanwhile the assembled party at Sjoeborg were in some degreetranquillised, when on the noon of the third day the king again madehis appearance at table, where he sat, with a calm and almost cheerfulcountenance, between his brother Christopher and the papal legate.Their secret negociation seemed to have taken a friendly turn, andgreat reliance was placed in King Eric's manly sense and politicalwisdom. Report said that the Italian prelate seemed to bear ournorthern climate excellently well, and perhaps might not be disinclinedto take up his abode here, if the king should come to an agreement withthe papal see, and the archbishoprick of Lund became vacant by thedeposition of Grand. It was conjectured that the formal annulment ofthe archbishop's authority, and of his own self-empowered sentence ofexcommunication, had been the subject of the king's conferences withthe unfathomable Isarnus, and it was reasonably hoped that the cardinalwould grant this important condition of the archbishop's release, erethe king fulfilled the demands of the pope. But some days elapsedwithout any apparent decision being taken. Meanwhile, no change tookplace in the condition of the captive archbishop, who remained in closeconfinement.
Although neither the king nor his loyal and devoted subjects recognisedthe validity of the sentence of excommunication pronounced on them bythe archbishop, so long as it was not formally ratified by a papaldecree, this awful procedure had nevertheless taken place, and withsuch publicity that it could not but be generally known. The rumourquickly spread throughout the land, and terrified the people. Thethreats against those who should not within ten days withdraw all helpand companionship from the king had struck terror into many, andseveral of the domestics, and of the guard of halberdiers abscondedfrom Sjoeborg. The tales recounted of the ecclesiastical captive's skillin the Black Art now contributed still more to alarm his guard. Atevery unusual sound from the dungeon in the night the turnkeys stolefrom their posts, and the bravest men-at-arms dared scarcely remainwithout the prison door, where with trembling voices they often sangvaliant battle songs to keep up their courage. The prisoner was guardedwith still increasing anxiety. A very suspicious rumour renderedwatchfulness still more necessary. Some fishermen from Gilleleie, whosupplied the castle with fish, had related in the kitchen that aforeign bark was constantly sailing to and from the coast. The personson board appeared to be fishermen, and were busied during the day withnets and fishing-tackle, but during the night they landed, and a tallknight in disguise, accompanied by some seamen of suspiciousappearance, were seen to lurk in the neighbourhood of the castle. Thisreport had not indeed reached the ears either of the king or the Marsk,but orders were issued that the guard should be doubled in thecaptive's tower, and that the steward should answer with his life forthe archbishop's security. The lower classes now believed that the kingwould pass sentence of death upon him, and command him to be executed.
With the expression of fear and anger in his countenance, as well as offatigue from a night's watch, the steward one morning descended thestairs of the tower prison with the keys in his hand. "All folk seempossessed here," he muttered. "I shall now have to watch myself todeath over that confounded Satan."
"Did I not always say so, master? He will drive us all crazed at last,"sounded a merry well-known voice in his ear, and Morten the cook stoodbefore him in the twilight at the bottom of the tower stairs.
"Morten! thou crack-brained vagabond! is it thou?" called the steward;"where in all the world hast thou been? Folk said thou wert surelybewitched, and gone to the devil, and I began almost to think somyself. The whole pack of them here are losing their wits, and oneafter another runs off from me. Speak, man! where the devil hast thoubeen?"
"Ah! dear master," sighed Morten. "Thank St. Hubert that you are sopious and virtuous, and condemn not a weak worldly-minded fellow whohath been forced to do hard penance for his sins' sake. Ye havedoubtless observed how I delight in dancing and singing. In former daysI was not afraid of a little drink, either; but on St. Vitus's day itbehoves us to be cautious. As a punishment for my ungodliness in adrunken bout, I was afflicted with St. Vitus's dance, and I thought Ishould have danced for a whole year, as hath chanced to many a poorsinner before. Perhaps you or other virtuous folk have prayed for me,for I got off for a few weeks' sickness; but in all that time I was notable to give any account of myself, and I have so danced the countryround that I can hardly hang together."
"Indeed!" answered the jailor, looking at him suspiciously; "hast thouhad that sickness? It is a rare one, though, and many will have it thatit is nought but an idle superstition."
"Dear master! remember ye not then how it seized Claus Spillemans lastyear? He ceased not dancing till he dropped dead in Sjoeborg streets."
"Well, that is true enough; he went mad, no doubt, on St. Vitus's day;but it was not upon _that_ day thou did'st kick up such a riot, anddid'st run off from the turnkeys. Be honest, Morten! hast thou notsuffered thyself to be seduced by the bishop to run errands for him?Thou hast tramped the country sturdily round, that I see right well,and if thou now hast a fancy to be hanged for thy zeal in the service,thou comest in the very nick of time; both the king and the Marsk arehere, and when the one passes a sentence, the other is at hand toexecute it."
"Dear pious master! what do you take me for?" answered Morten, puttingon a look of astonishment. "Had I run errands for such a traitor I musthave been stark mad indeed to come back again now, and let myself behung for it. No, trust me, master, I am not so brutishly stupid. Totell you the whole clean out, I was drunk beyond all bounds thatevening; whether it was St. Vitus's day or not I do not quite exactlyremember, but I have had neither sense nor recollection since. I musthave doubtless scoured the country round like a madman. I have now cometo my senses for the first time, and found the way to Sjoeborg again.Here's been fine excommunicating work between the bishop and the king.If I can be of any use to you, say the word! I could break thearchbishop's neck with the greatest pleasure in life if I could therebysave king and country. If you have any doubt of my honesty, I will onlyjust fetch my traps, and take myself off with all reverence."
"No, stay; I will believe thee, because of thy honest face, Morten,"said the steward, hastily, and casting a sharp look at him, while a newand daring thought seemed to flash across his hangman's soul. "I havenever needed thee more than at this very time. My new cook hath alsorun off. I have only one turnkey left. I must myself be every thing andevery where."
"That is more than can be required of any Christian soul, master. TheDevil himself can hardly take that upon him."
"Drunk and mad thou must surely have been," muttered the keeper, stilllo
oking narrowly at him. "Hum! _so_ long a drunken fit, though, have Inever heard the like of. St. Vitus's dance? Truly that is an ailmentakin to madness; no man can answer for what he does in that state. Hum!since thou art come to thy senses again, Morten, I will even take theeagain into service. In the day thou may'st be needed in the kitchen,and in the night--well, we can talk of that afterwards. Old Mads theturnkey is good for nothing; he hath now got his nephews to help him,and I count not on them either; and those foolish men-at-arms areafraid of being excommunicated or bewitched."
"If I can help you with the night watch that shan't stand in _my_ way,"said Morten; "whatsoever I can do to plague and anger the bishop I dowith hearty good will. I would only counsel you not to set me to watchin his chamber, for if St. Vitus's dance come over me I were in a caseto dance to the devil with him. It is a kind of cramp, you must know,and I might easily squeeze the life out of whomsoever I get hold of."
"Well, well, Morten; there is no need for that. Thou art now perfectlywell and reasonable," muttered the keeper, with a grisly smile. "I musthave some one to help me, or I shall go mad myself. One misfortunefollows another. The king is a violent man, and the junker has no greatweight with him. It is an easy thing to get into trouble when one has adevil to watch, and stern masters to account to. Now comes thatconfounded report of the vessel at Gilleleie, which plys to and fro tohelp the bishop to flight."
Morten turned quite pale. "Our Lady preserve us!--say they so?" heexclaimed, hastily; "then, by my troth, master, there _is_ need ofwatchfulness; yet it is just as dangerous to loose as to tie a maddog."
"It will cost me my life if he escapes, Morten. I have the king's ownmost gracious word for it. I never let the prison keys out of my hand.The king's people are on guard, but I dare not trust them. I carry mylife in my hands. I will now depend upon thee. Come!" So saying, theagitated steward took Morten by the arm, and led him across the yardtowards the kitchen. It was a fine clear winter's morning. It hadfrozen so hard during the last few nights that a part of Sjoeborg lakewas covered with tolerably hard ice. As the steward and the cookcrossed the castle yard they saw all the king's huntsmen, with horsesand hunting equipments, waiting before the castle stairs, and the royalcar drove up. "What is agog now?" asked the steward.
"We are off with the king to the chase at Tikjob," answered one of thehunters. "The great lord from Italy wants to go to Esrom. He willsurely either ride, or be borne on our shoulders."
"When come ye back?" asked the steward.
"Faith, I know not," answered the huntsman. "To-morrow we shall have togo with the king to Esrom. There is a great council to be held there,they say."
"Then it surely concerns the life or death of him yonder," muttered thesteward, pointing to the prison tower. Morten the cook becameattentive, and stopped; but he soon hasted towards the kitchen door,where he stood, half concealed, as the door of the castle stairsopened, and the king and Prince Christopher came forth, and mountedtheir horses, together with the Marsk, the two Swedish lords, and anumerous company of knights. The king and his train halted, and whenCardinal Isarnus, with his famulus and his clerical train, alsodescended the stairs, the huntsmen and attendants bowed low whilst theytook their seats in the royal car. The train, headed by the king andCount Henrik, then issued forth out of the castle gate, amid the joyoussound of the hunting horns. Morten continued standing by the kitchendoor. He had gazed on the young chivalrous monarch with a mingledfeeling of fear and admiring interest, and a secret struggle seemedpassing in his mind, as his glance turned from the noble and kinglyform which had just passed him, to the gloomy prison window from whencehe thought he heard a distant and smothered sigh. The steward hadalready twice called to him without his hearing; he now called again,with a round oath. The cook hastily passed his hand over his face, andstruck up, in a shrill voice, one of his merriest ballads, as, withjest and laughter, he joined the domestics in the kitchen. During therest of the day a monastic stillness reigned in Sjoeborg castle. Whenthe evening closed in the steward appeared unusually friendly andconfidential, and treated his cook to a flagon of good wine from theking's travelling store. Before he sat down at the drinking table hehad convinced himself with his own eyes that his dangerous stateprisoner was under close keeping, and that the old turnkey and hiscomrade, as well as the guard without the prison-door, were at theirposts. When he had fortified himself with some cups of wine, he beganto unburden his heart to the cook. "I am an unfortunate man," he sighedforth. "I have not closed my eyes to sleep these three nights. Eachtime I shut an eye it seems to me the bishop hath fled, and I amdangling from the gallows. It hath not fared much better with the kinghimself," he continued; "if he now condemns him to death, despite popeand clergy, he and the whole kingdom fall into trouble. If he lets himslip hence alive, matters are just as bad. I once dreamed the bishophad hung himself in his chains. Oh! would it had pleased the Lord ithad been so indeed!"
"A pious wish," answered Morten. "I would willingly lend a helping handtowards the fulfilment of that dream; of course, master, I mean in allpious secrecy; and I blame you not for this. In your case it would bealmost a necessary act of self-defence, and, at the same time, a gooddeed for king and country. Is it not so?"
"Art thou mad, Morten! it might cost me my neck," muttered the steward;"for ought I care he may hang himself, in the Lord's name, whenever hepleases, if I only know nothing of it. If any good friend would lendhim a helping hand, it might indeed, as thou say'st, save king andcountry, and deserve a rich and royal recompence; but I may thank myLord and Maker if I can save my own life. Had I but a faithful fellowwho durst watch in the chamber with him to-night I should sleep inquiet. Hast thou not courage enough for that, Morten?"
"Oh yes; why should I not, if I get well paid for it? If he gives meany trouble, it were an easy matter to make away with him, without anyone seeing or knowing aught about it."
"Art thou serious, Morten? Hast thou really courage to----"
"To make an end of him, master?"
"Hush! No; I say not that. St. Gertrude preserve me from tempting anyone to do that deed, even though it might be a benefit to state andcountry, and might make a poor fellow happy for life. No; that was notmy meaning. Darest thou let me shut thee up with him to-night?"
"Yes, on one condition, master."
"What is it?"
"That you will not be wroth and complain of me if perchance you werenot to find us to-morrow morning in the same trim as to-night."
"Pshaw, Morten; it matters not to me in what trim I find you. I willpay ten silver pieces for every night you watch beside him, and ahundred for the LAST."
"But even were that pious lord, through his witchcraft, to get looseafter a fashion, I should surely get the blame of having let him slip."
"Ha, ha! thou art a merry wag, Morten," muttered the steward, with ahorrible laugh. "The liberty thou canst give him, when I have lockedthe door after thee, shall not disturb my night's rest. Of course," hecontinued, with an uneasy and inquiring look, "thou must first let mesearch thy garments, to see that thou has not a file or any other toolwith thee; that is a precaution I have ever used when I let any onewatch with him in the chamber."
"That is but reasonable. You are a conscientious man." So saying,Morten pulled off his jerkin, and turned his pockets inside out. "Butnow I think of it, master, it won't do after all. If St. Vitus's danceshould come over me."
"Pshaw! thou art quite well and hearty."
"But I am too hot-headed, master; and the bishop is wrath with me fromformer times. I have now and then plagued him a little, as you know,and should he take it into his head to insult me, or get hold of me,and I were forced to defend myself, it might cause a little stir, andset the guard and the whole castle agog."
"That needs not be. Thou art a bold fellow, Morten. Come! The guardshall not stand too near the door, and disturb thine and the bishop'srest, and shouldst thou get into a dispute with him about the state ofsouls after death, or such like learned matters, lay folks shall not bethe wise
r for that. Drink a cup of wine to a good night, and then let'saway. I want rest, and so doth the bishop. It is late." Morten nodded,and drank.
With a horrible smile on his coarse hypocritical countenance, JesperMogensen snatched up a lantern, and descended the staircase leading tothe prison door, accompanied by the cook. He paused once or twice withuneasiness and suspicion, and held up the light towards Morten, whofollowed him with a cheerful countenance.
"Thou look'st as well pleased as if I were leading thee to a jollynight revel," he muttered; "go on before. I cannot endure that rustlingbehind me."
Morten obeyed, and assumed a thoughtful look.
"Let not the guard smell a rat," he whispered, and pointed to a cordwhich was twisted round his waist. The keeper nodded, and seemedreassured. He ordered the guard to move further from the door, which hethen half opened, and peeped in, holding the lantern before him. Assoon as he had seen the captive lying quietly with his hands fettered,he pushed Morten into the chamber.
"A good and _quiet_ night," he said, with a grim smile, clapping to andlocking the door behind him; he also carefully barred it without, andthen descended the stairs. The nearest sentinel observed that he oftenlooked timorously behind him, as if his own footsteps soundedsuspiciously in his ear. "The stupid devil!" he muttered. "What he dothhe shall himself answer for; it is no concern of mine."
When Morten entered the murky prison, he stood in silence, until thesound of the locking and bolting of the door had ceased, and until thehollow tread of the steward's iron-shod boots died away on the stairs;he then approached the captive's couch, and was about to speak, but henow heard singing and loud voices in the upper chamber. It was old Madsthe turnkey making merry with his nephews and the young fellows fromthe village who were to keep watch with him. Morten listened insilence. He perceived from their inarticulate voices and drowsy songs,that the mead and Saxon ale he had secretly brought them had beengreatly to their taste. Through a little hole in the ceiling abovethere fell a ray of light from their lamp upon the archbishop's couch,and lit up his long pale visage. He lay with closed eyes withoutstirring, apparently in a sound sleep. Morten seated himself upon thedamp stone floor, and interrupted not his repose until the noise of thecarouse had entirely ceased, and he heard in the stillness of the nighthow they were snoring overhead. "Sleep you, venerable sir?" hewhispered, as he rose up from the floor.
"No, thou faithful servant of the Lord!" answered the archbishop, in aweak voice, and raised his head. "I and the Lord's vengeance do but_seem_ to sleep, until it is time to wake and act."
"Now is the time to show clean heels," continued Morten. "Is all readyhere?"
"Long since. Thou hast tarried long; yet even that was an ordering ofthe Lord. I was destined even in my chains to become a chastising rodin the Lord's hand; but I was well nigh believing thou had'st failedme, or wert betrayed."
"You thought, then, I was either a fox or a sheep, reverend sir. Haveyou the rope ladder?"
"Here--but be cautious, Morten. Tie it to the thickest bar in thegrate; that is secure. Take the others out; they are filed through--butmake no noise! I can rid myself of the fetters. Thy file was blunt, butthe Lord sharpened it in my hand. His angel hath struck mine enemiesboth deaf and blind."
"But now comes the _knotty_ point, pious sir," whispered Morten, as helingered, with an ambiguous smile. "Now all depends upon whether theLord's angel will help you still farther. Up to the window he hathindeed taught you to creep, but we have to descend thirty-six feet fromthence to the tower wall, and then we still have that confounded castlewall besides. Over the moat and lake the Lord hath indeed laid abridge. See you this cord? Were I now to strangle you with it I mightperhaps make my fortune; but I am too pious a fellow for that. I willbut fasten it to the slip knot, that we may be able to draw the ladderafter us. I will go down first to aid you. Look now. I will answer forthe ladder, if you can but keep your hold, till I can reach you frombelow. But----"
"With the Lord Almighty's help"--whispered Grand, in an anxious tone,and looking at the jolly cook, with a half suspicious glance--"assistme first up to the window, I am weary and weak. Now, what art thouthinking of, Morten? Haste, or we are betrayed."
"A little scruple has just entered my head, venerable sir," whisperedMorten. "I am a good Christian, and I know well enough both you and thepope have my soul and the souls of all Christians in your pockets. Youhave saved my life, do you see, and therefore have I promised to freeyou, whatever it may cost; but I am also a Danish man, and you cannotask that, for your sake, I should betray state and kingdom, or plungeour young brave king into misfortune. Had I seen _him_ sooner, andknown he was so noble a lord, I might perhaps have thought better onwhat I promised _you_. I know you have excommunicated him, and givenhim over to the Devil, but by my soul he is too good for that, and if Iam now to set you free you must promise me, by our Lady and St. Martin,that you will recall the ban, and do no harm to him or any other man inthe country."
"Dost thou rave, Morten?" exclaimed the archbishop, greatly surprisedand enraged; "would'st thou ape the tyrant, and prescribe conditions tome? If thou doest not that thou promised me, I will excommunicate theealso, and thou shalt be eternally damned."
"In that case, reverend sir," whispered Morten, hastily creeping out ofthe window to the rope ladder, with the loose end of the cord in hishand, with which he could slip the looped knot that fastened theladder,--"In that case I will bid you good night, and take the ladderwith me to hell."
"Morten! good Morten! betray me not," whispered the archbishop, in abeseeching tone, climbing with haste up to the window. "I will not dealharder by the king or any one here than I am compelled for the Lord'sand the church's and my conscience sake."
"Then will you loose him from the ban as soon as you are free and insafety yourself?" asked Morten, still keeping his stand on the ladder.
"Yes, surely; yes, surely; only be silent, and help me."
"Then I will believe you for the present," whispered Morten, and creptdown the ladder. Its last step was still ten feet from the ground, butthe dexterous cook clung fast to it with his hands, and jumped downwithout any great difficulty. The archbishop had now also got out ofthe window, and with much effort held fast by one step, while he gropedwith his foot for the other. But on lifting his foot from the laststep, to his great dismay he discovered that the ladder was much tooshort, and that in all probability his life would be endangered shouldhe come to the ground without assistance.
"Help me, help me, Morten!" he entreated in a low tone. "In the name ofthe all-merciful Creator, help me!"
"Yes, if you swear to keep your word, on pain of excommunicatingyourself to burning hell, venerable sir," answered Morten, extendinghis arms to catch him in case he fell.
"Yes, assuredly, by all the saints and devils!" stammered the alarmedcaptive; "only catch me; I must let go my hold!"
"Let go then! in the Holy Virgin's name!" whispered Morten; "if you area pious man of your word you shall assuredly not dash your foot againsta stone."
The archbishop now relinquished his hold of the last step of theladder, and let himself drop, but though instantly caught in the cook'spowerful arms, he was unable to repress a smothered burst of pain andsorrow, as his swelled feet struck hard against the stone pavement, andwhen Morten withdrew his support, he fell speechless and breathless tothe ground.
"You have surely not sworn falsely in your heart, venerable sir,"whispered Morten, anxiously. "This is no time, either, for swooning. Ifwe delay a moment longer the guard may come, and lead you back fromwhence you came." As he said this, he drew down the ladder, and rolledit up with care. The archbishop yet lay as if lifeless on the ground.Without any longer demur, Morten put both arms round his waist, andcarried him in this manner across the back yard of the prison to thehigh castle wall which encircled the tower and was surrounded by amoat. It was possible to mount the inside wall in case of need, and bydint of great exertion Morten carried the almost senseless prelate upto the top of the wall. Th
ere he secured the rope ladder, while thebishop recovered his consciousness, and gained strength to pursue hisflight. Without delaying and alarming the fugitive by furtherstipulations, he assisted him to descend this wall also, and then drewthe ladder after him. They passed the frozen moat of the castle; butthat part of the lake which they had to cross was as smooth as glass,and the archbishop often fell and bruised himself. With Morten's helphe at last got over the ice, but now threw himself despairingly on thefrozen ground. "I cannot go a step farther," he exclaimed. "If I am toreach the shore thou must get me a horse."
"Will you give me absolution then, venerable sir, if I can steal you ahorse out of the stable here?"
"It is a holy loan, which will bring thee a blessing," replied Grand.
"Good! But if you understand aught of the Black Art, pious sir, forgetnot your Latin now, but say a charm over the dogs, so that they barknot, and over the grooms in the stable, so that they wake not."
"I will pray to the Almighty to be with us. Haste thee!"
Morten crept towards the neighbouring stable. He went across a dunghillto the stable door, upon which a large cross was marked in chalk by wayof safeguard. The usually watchful mastiffs did not bark. It seemed toMorten as if the cross on the stable door gleamed in the moonlight. Thedoor of the groom's chamber he had to pass stood ajar. He peeped in,and saw three men in a deep sleep. In the stalls close by stood twosmall horses. He untied their halters, and led them out. The stonepavement of the stable and without the back door was covered withhorse-litter, and he succeeded in leading the horses out without theslightest noise. He led them slowly towards the sea shore, and oftenlooked behind him, but no one pursued--no dog barked, and the wholeseemed to him to be almost miraculous. He found the archbishop where hehad left him, in an attitude of prayer. With unwonted solemnity, andwith a respect which, however, seemed mingled with a kind of dread,Morten, without saying a word, assisted the prelate to mount one of thehorses; he himself vaulted upon the other, and they rode in silence ata rapid trot down to the shore. There a tall grave knight and the twoLolland deserters awaited them with a boat which they had stolen fromthe fishing village. The knight and both the wild Lollanders bent theknee reverently before the archbishop as he extended his fingers togive them his blessing. With Morten's aid he dismounted, and steppedinto the boat. Morten turned the strange horses loose, and seatedhimself on a rowing bench. With a few powerful strokes of the oar theyreached a vessel with a black flag and pennant, which was waiting forthem at some distance from the shore. They entered the ship, and letthe boat float away. The day had not dawned when the vessel with theblack flag sailed with a fair breeze through the Sound, bearing offwithout impediment the dangerous man, who, even in his chains, haddared to excommunicate Denmark's sovereign.