At sunrise next morning, the brisk broad-shouldered cook, with a large club in his hand, took his way through the wood skirting Esrom Lake^[7], accompanied by two other wanderers. It was a foggy morning; large flocks of wild geese flew with shrill cries over the lake, and the fallen leaves of the forest were swept along the path by the sharp morning breeze. The cook and his companions proceeded in silence and with hasty steps; and it was not until the sun began to disperse the cold mists of morning, that Morten cleared his throat, and sang a merry ballad. His companions were two strong broad-shouldered fellows, with red wadmal cloaks, over dirty leathern breeches, and with broad swords and daggers in their thickly padded belts, which also appeared to serve them as purses. They had the appearance of deserters or dismissed men-at-arms; they both wore beards in the fashion of king's horsemen, but seemed to have long neglected all attention to cleanliness and personal neatness. Their unwashed faces betokened want of sleep and fitting rest. The heads of a couple of flails served them as walking staves. They bore on their backs large bundles of rich attire, from which pieces of smoked meat and other provisions protruded. Their long uncombed hair hung about their shoulders; the skin and hair of both were so dark, and their countenances had so little of a Danish cast, that they would have passed for foreigners, had not their dialect proclaimed them to be peasants from Lolland; who, at any rate, could not prove their evidently Vandal extraction in the first generation. The taller of the two had lost an eye, and the other had a huge scar between his nose and mouth, which looked like a hare lip, and his sharp projecting teeth gave him a ferocious appearance, resembling that of a wild boar.

The three wanderers occasionally looked behind them, as if they apprehended a pursuit; but they only beheld the white gable ends of Esrom monastery, which they had passed a short time before.

"Now, thanks for good companionship," said Morten, as he halted at a cross road in the forest. "It were best we part company for the present; ye understand what I said to you--ye are to hide yourselves at GilleleiÉ, and watch every night, until ye see the skiff with the black pennant, then push off with JeppÉ's boat, and set me on shore: meanwhile watch narrowly all that goes on here, and who goes in and out of the castle. What Niels Brock and the archbishop have promised, you may make sure of. But then ye must not be self-willed; ye will never be able to get him out by force, and if the king and Marsk Oluffsen come hither to-day or to-morrow, ye might lightly get hanged and ruin every thing."

"Leave that to us, sly Morten," said the man with the one eye. "Johan KystÉ well knows what he is about. I committed but one folly in my life; 'twas on that Easter eve I deserted from the Marsk, and took the palfrey from the pious clerk; I did but knock a little hole in his skull, but it was large enough for his bit of a soul to slink out of: one should let holy men go their way in peace; for this, I am now forced to put up with one eye. I vowed, therefore, to our Lady and St. Joseph, to become pious and God-fearing from that very hour, and never more to lay my hand on other than laymen."

"A pious resolve," said Morten: "wert thou not such a bloodhound and cut-throat, I could almost believe thy soul might be saved as yet, even shouldst thou steal and rob in a small way at times."

"It bids fair to be so," answered the one-eyed. "I have a letter of absolution from the archbishop, within my woollen jerkin, that will stand me in good stead when all the world besides marches to hell. Truly I served the learned Master Grand faithfully by night and day these many years, therefore hath the pious archbishop given me freedom from fasting, and absolution for sins for ten whole years: he hath not spared his silver pieces either; and shall I now suffer them to shut up such a man, and thereby rob so many honest fellows of a living? What sayest thou, OlÉ Ark? Shall we suffer it any longer? hath Master Grand deserved it of us?"

"Pshaw! KystÉ; who says thou art to suffer it, and leave him in the lurch?" interrupted Morten. "We all want to have him out; but we would not be as fools, trying to burst open the doors with their own thick skulls. Force will not help us here--do but as I bid thee, and keep thy courage until we want it."

"Morten is right, KystÉ," began the other Lollander, with a hideous grin, which displayed his projecting teeth. "Thou art a mad bull, and art ever ready to push with thy horns. Why haste so desperately to get him out? he was a good and generous man of God while he was in power, 'tis true, but since he hath lain in SjÖborg we have heard no great things of him, and have not been blessed with the sight of a stiver from his hand."

"Dull cod-fish!" replied Johan KystÉ, hastily; "believest thou not what honest Morten hath vowed and promised us in the bishop's name? As soon as we get him out we are his steersmen at Bornholm, and get leave to catch what we can throughout the king's dominions."

"Hold, comrade," said Morten, correcting him. "It is only so long as the breach lasts between the king and the archbishop, that he gives you leave to drive that trade: it is only in the service of the church, and the pious bishop, that it may be lawful and Christian for a time; afterwards ye must content yourselves with what he gives you of his own, and lead quiet lives: but ere this day twelvemonth, you may feather your nests finely. Now begone, and neglect not what ye have taken upon ye, for the sake of other desperate pranks! I will not have you longer with me: if any one caught me in such fair company, they might take a fancy to hang me up by the side of you, for honest companionship's sake."

"Ho! ho! wouldst thou play the lordling, Morten?" said the one-eyed; "what higher honour couldst thou look for, thou turnspit!--But hark! what was that? are there hunters in the wood so early?"

The sound of hunting-horns, the tramp of horses, and the baying of hounds, was heard in the neighbourhood: the three wanderers hastened forward a few paces, but soon suddenly sprang aside in different directions.

"S'death! the king and all his courtiers!" exclaimed Morten, sheltering himself behind a large beech tree by the road side, while both his suspicious-looking comrades hid themselves among the thick brushwood.

A numerous hunting train drew near; at the head rode the young king, between the Drost and the Marsk: it was a noble sight to see the young chivalrous King Eric on horseback. He rode a tall milk-white horse, which seemed proud of its burden, and often fell into the artificial dancing-pace to which it was used in the tilt and tournay. Its bridle and saddle accoutrements glittered with gold and precious stones: the silken rein with which the king managed his steed was the only compulsory means to which it would submit; the slightest touch of the golden rowel in the king's spur caused it to rear almost upright, and for any other than the king it seemed rash and dangerous to bestride the proud animal. The king himself was a noble-looking youth, with a manly and determined, almost a stern, cast of countenance; but his long fair locks imparted a softness to this expression, which, in Eric's milder moods, called to mind the portraits of the Saviour's best beloved Apostle, leaning his head on his Master's breast. The young king had a dignified and chivalrous deportment, the effect of which was heightened by the almost dazzling splendour of his attire, which appeared indeed unsuited to a hunting party. The tall white plume in his hat sparkled with small silver stars; and the green hunting dress, bordered with ermine, was so richly broidered with silken lions, and golden hearts, that it resembled a shining suit of armour.

The splendour in which the young king appeared to delight was also conspicuous in his train. Drost AagÉ, who rode at the king's right hand, was of the same age with King Eric, and had not yet attained his twenty-second year. He had been the king's playmate and confidant from childhood upwards, and now possessed his entire confidence and favour. There was a mild but almost melancholy seriousness in the expression of Drost AagÉ's countenance, which gave him the appearance of being older than the king. He had thrown his dark blue mantle over the back of his smoking palfrey, by way of covering; and his rich silken dress was besprinkled with the foam of the king's restless and chafing steed, upon which he appeared to keep a watchful eye.

Marsk Niels Oluffsen, who rode at the king's left hand, was a tall strong-built man, of about thirty years and upwards, with a sharp, rough, warrior-like countenance, and stiff deportment. Next to Drost AagÉ, he was the king's most indispensable counsellor, and was an exceedingly brave and doughty knight; but there was a tinge of haughtiness and severity in his looks and manner which frequently aroused the feelings of independence, and wounded the self-love, of his inferiors. Even the king and Drost AagÉ, who were fully his equals in knightly prowess, and far surpassed him in tact and talent, often felt unpleasantly repulsed by his rough and blunt bearing, of which he was himself so unconscious that nothing astonished him more than whenever his uncouth roughness and self-confidence drove friends as well as enemies from him.

Among others of the king's train were two celebrated German minstrels--Master Rumelant, from Swabia, and Master PoppÉ the Strong, who, in their national dress of German minstrels, attracted much attention. Master Rumelant's stature was insignificant, but he had a lively and enthusiastic expression of countenance; he was a lover of argument, into which he was ever ready to enter with warmth and vehemence, especially on theological subjects, on which he entertained his own very peculiar opinions. His countryman, PoppÉ the Strong, well deserved his cognomen: he was a gigantic figure, with long coal-black hair and beard. His appearance often terrified old women and children, by whom he was even sometimes taken for a wizard. He spoke in a tone of emphatic decision, which would have better beseemed a commander-in-chief. He rode a lean grey horse, and always wore a black feather in his hat, in token of a sorrow he desired should be noticed and respected by others. These two strangers had been for some time the honoured guests of the young Danish monarch, who himself possessed a knowledge of the arts, and showed special favour to talented artists and men of learning. The king was also attended on this excursion by the famous Danish philosopher, Petrus de Dacia, who was accounted the greatest astronomer and arithmetician of his time, and was as renowned for his theological learning as for his eloquence and profound knowledge of Greek and Latin philology. Clad in his black canon's dress, he rode a quiet palfrey, between the two German minstrels; and always acted as mediator when, in the heat of argument, they became vehement, and seemed disposed to exchange hard words. He was still in the prime of life: on his journey through Germany he had become acquainted, at Cologne, with ChristinÉ Stambel, the nun, so renowned for her sanctity; and the enthusiasm with which he always spoke of this lady would have subjected him to the suspicion of a secret passion, had he not in his writings, as well as in his conversation, lauded with still greater enthusiasm the blessed Virgin Mary, as preeminent in beauty and sanctity, and exalted her to supreme rank among the saints in the calendar. He had proved, with irresistible eloquence, that the gracious confidence the Lord showed to St. Peter, in intrusting him with the care of his flock, was even vouchsafed in a far higher degree to St. John, the beloved apostle, who, as the Lord's best-loved disciple, was appointed the protector and guardian of the blessed Virgin.

His vehement theological controversy on this point with the learned and famous Aldobrandino Papparonus Venensis, of the Dominican order, was in a great measure the foundation of the esteem in which he was held by the learned. It was only when the conversation turned on this his favourite theme that his equanimity was ever disturbed; excepting when this occurred, his discourse was calm, clear, and collected. The latent energy which lay in his full and ardent eye, with its expression of somewhat visionary enthusiasm, was calculated to inspire kindly attention and confidence, and (what was a phenomenon among the learned of his time) he was altogether free from pedantry and pride.

The king and his train now approached the cross road and the tree behind which Morten had concealed himself: from this spot opened the finest view on Esrom lake. "Halt!" said the king, springing from his horse: "this is a lovely spot; we will tarry here and take our repast. They will surely come this way from Elsinore."

"No doubt they will, my liege," answered Marsk Oluffsen, while he and the Drost dismounted at the same time from their horses, and gave them into the charge of the king's groom. "Here lies the high road to Esrom and SjÖborg. But, if I know the margrave right, he will not ride through Elsinore ere all the pretty maidens are awake and can admire his fair presence and horsemanship. As yet, his head is full of nought but love adventures and such nonsense."

"Call you love 'nonsense,' my brave Marsk?" interrupted the king. "Do you forget I am a bridegroom? and I trust not one of the coldest."

"Bridegroom, my liege?" answered the Marsk: "in Danish we call no man a bridegroom until his marriage day, and much must be done ere that day comes."

"Much?" rejoined the king, and his joyous animated countenance became suddenly stern and grave--"well! much may be done in a short time, but if they make the time too long, the day I long for may come when I will."

"The Lord and our blessed Lady forbid!" said Drost AagÉ, in an under tone, casting a glance at the king, full of anxious and heartfelt sympathy.

"Let the horns play, AagÉ," said the king, as if desirous to prevent more exclamations of this kind, which seemed to displease him. "The day will be fine: we will begin it joyously."

At a signal from the Drost, the musicians, who followed the hunting train, struck up the air of the well-known ancient ballad of "Axel Thordson and Fair Valborg,"^[8] which they knew was a favourite with the king.

"Well, this is sweet music if it be not lively," said Eric: "where are Rumelant and PoppÉ? 'tis pity they cannot sing Danish; their skilful lays are but ill-suited to these tones."

"They are disputing again on spiritual matters," said the Marsk. "They are better fitted for a council of clerks than a hunting party."

"Let us listen," said the king: "I dare wager Master PoppÉ is in the right; but Master Rumelant nevertheless will be victor in the controversy."

While the music continued, and the attendants converted a low pile of wood into a table for the repast, the king's attention was attracted by the dispute of the two eager minstrels: each stood with the bridle of his horse in his hand, and spoke in a loud tone, while the grave Master Petrus sat calm and attentive on his palfrey, gazing on the lake.

"I will defend my opinion before the whole body of clerks, and all true believers in Christendom," said the vehement little Rumelant, striking his saddle with the handle of his whip as he spoke: "our sinfulness is assuredly better security for our salvation than all our paltry virtue--that is as true as that our blessed Lady's prayers avail in heaven, and she shows us no favour when she obtains grace for us; she shows us love and gratitude, which she is downright owing us for our sin's sake, for it is not the world's virtue, but its sin alone, she hath to thank for all her honour and glory."

"What are you driving at, my good Master Rumelant?" shouted the gigantic Master PoppÉ. "How is the holy Virgin honoured by our being a set of sinful scoundrels? that is no honour to us, or any one else."

"Not so, my self-sufficient sir!" shouted his opponent; "truly the case is clearer than the sun: it is assuredly not of our perfection we should boast, but, on the contrary, of our weakness. Would our dear blessed Lady ever have become that she became, had not Adam and Eve sinned, and all of us sinned too in them?"

"No, assuredly not, my dear friend: but how the devil----"

"Ergo, she hath man's sin to thank for her honour and glory! and ergo, she would be most ungrateful were she not to protect sinners, and bring us all likewise to honour and glory for our sin's sake."

"You drive me mad. Master Rumelant," shouted Master PoppÉ, stamping in wrath; "I know not what to answer you, but you are wrong, by my soul! as I will, like an honest German, show you with my good sword if you desire it. What if I should now commit the sin of slaying you on the spot, would the blessed Virgin bring me to honour and glory because of that? or would it be so small a sin that it could not be imputed to me as a great merit?"

"Worthy sirs," interrupted Master Petrus, gravely, "talk not of spiritual things with sophistry, or in an angry spirit; least of all of our blessed Lady, who is truth and heavenly calm itself. You exchange spiritual for temporal weapons, Master PoppÉ; and you darken the fountain of light, Master Rumelant, when you would make grace to proceed from sin on earth, instead of from incomprehensible love and mercy in God's kingdom."

"It seems to me it is of sin and grace those learned disputants are talking," said the king, seating himself by the side of Drost AagÉ on the trunk of a tree at a little distance. "Well, that is a never-ending chapter, and truly one I ought to reflect on when I wend to SjÖborg."

"Most certainly, my liege," answered AagÉ, looking with glad sympathy on the king's noble countenance. "When we think on the great mercy we all need, we should wish rather to be able to forgive our enemies than to execute the most lawful sentence upon them."

"Him thou meanest will I not forgive throughout all eternity!" burst forth the king impetuously. "He sat chief in council among my father's murderers, he ought to sit lowest among criminals in my kingdom. If the pope will not condemn him, I will. His blood I ask not, but outlawed and dishonoured shall he remain all the days of his life."

"The pope, however, hath alone the right to pass sentence on him, my liege," observed AagÉ. "So long as he remains captive here he cannot defend his cause before his lawful tribunal, therefore it seems to me but reasonable----"

"No, AagÉ!" interrupted the king, "neither just nor reasonable would it be to let loose the captive murderer, that he may perjure himself, to go forth free and honoured among his equals; but it were wise perhaps for my own peace and happiness."

"And perhaps for state and kingdom also," replied AagÉ. "This much is certain, my liege: so long as that dangerous man is detained captive at SjÖborg, neither Drost Hessel nor Counsellor Jon can obtain the dispensation for your marriage; and if I understood the wily Isarnus aright, he is already privately empowered by the pope to enforce the unhappy constitution of Veile against both you and the kingdom."

"And were it so," said the king, rising, "think'st thou I and the kingdom would be really harmed by it? Would Denmark's bishops and priests dare to excommunicate their king, and all their countrymen? Hast thou not thyself, because of thy love to me, been for two years already under the ban of the archbishop? And art thou not well and sound notwithstanding? Hath any priest in Denmark dared to shut the church door against thee when thou camest by my side, or to deny thee the holy sacrament in my presence?"

"My sentence is not yet confirmed by the holy father," said AagÉ; "and yet, my liege! I shudder, notwithstanding, to think of it--many of my noble countrymen regard me with looks which sadden and well nigh dismay me. The thunderbolts of the church are dreadful even in the hand of the chained criminal---they would have crushed me to the earth, did I not even yet hope that the ban, which a regicide hath proclaimed against me, is not accounted of by the merciful Lord in heaven. The holy father also will surely be moved by the righteousness of my cause, and by your intercession in my behalf, to recall it."

"He shall, he must do so," answered the king with warmth, "or I will teach thee to defy the might of injustice--perhaps also, my faithful AagÉ, I and all Denmark may have to share thy fate! but, with the help of the Lord and our blessed Lady, we will not therefore be cast down, or stoop to humiliation. I stake my life and crown upon it!"

"For heaven's sake, my liege!" exclaimed AagÉ, in alarm; but what he was about to utter was suddenly cut short by a significant look from the king, who, at that moment, had caught a glimpse of a round ruddy face, peering forth with a look of rapt attention from behind the tree beside which they were standing. "Who is that?" asked the king. "It is none of our huntsmen--art thou playing the spy, countryman?"

"A stranger!" exclaimed AagÉ; "come hither; who art thou?"

"Would ye aught with me, good sirs?" said Morten, the cook, stepping forward. "I thought ye spoke to me. I am deaf, ye must know; if ye have any commands, ye must shout at the top of your lungs."

"Who art thou?" asked AagÉ, raising his voice, while he gazed on him with a searching look. "What wouldst thou here?"

"Fear?" said the cook, assuming a simple look. "I will not deny I was somewhat afraid of your horses, and cared not to meet them on a fasting stomach."

"A poor crazy fellow," said the king, "let him go his way in peace, AagÉ; had he even heard what we spoke of, what would it signify?"

"Yes, by my troth, horses do signify something!" said Morten, looking at Eric with evident interest. "The white horse signifies victory and speedy judgment on the Lord's enemies--says Father Gregory."

"So much the better!" said the king, gaily, giving him a couple of gold pieces. "Go thy way in peace, I would fain hope thou hast spoken truth in thy simplicity. The white horse is mine."

"But the dark red signifies rebellion and the yellow pestilence," continued Morten, seemingly touched, as he received the king's gift, and kissed his hand. "Mark, it was therefore I got frighted, when I saw ye between those two beasts. I am otherwise a poor sinner, at your service. I am going a pilgrimage for my own and other folks' sins. I will now pray for a blessing on you, noble sir!"--so saying, he strode hastily across the road, and disappeared in the wood.

"How would he interpret the red and the yellow horse?" said the king, gravely. "Those pious men of the cloister fill our country and people full of superstition."

"The fellow perhaps was neither deaf nor half-witted," answered AagÉ; "to you he naturally said fair words, in order to escape. Our stern Marsk is not liked by vagrants; the bay horse he rides to-day is one he lately got in exchange from your brother Junker Christopher. My cream-coloured horse is well known, and since I fell under the church's ban the people look on me as the emblem of pestilence and misfortune by your side."

These serious comments on the cook's words were now interrupted by the sudden baying of the hounds, which dashed forward in couples towards a thick bush of white thorn, in full cry.

"Game! game!" shouted the huntsman; but, instead of the supposed deer, the two concealed wanderers sprang out of the bush: they had cast aside their peasants' mantles and their bundles, in order the more easily to save themselves by flight in their light cuirasses, but by so doing they had betrayed themselves, and awakened suspicion. By order of the Marsk they were instantly seized, and brought before the party of hunters.

"What means this?" called the king in surprise: "we are not come hither to hunt men."

"A couple of deserters from your Lolland horsemen, my liege," answered Marsk Oluffsen. "I know them; we have long been on the look-out for them; it is they whom the Count of Lolland hath sought after as robbers and murderers."

"Then send them to Flynderborg^[9] to await their doom!" commanded the king. "What would they here! they shall be strictly brought to account."

The captured deserters were instantly led off to be bound and conducted to the fortress. They had until now stood still and downcast, like convicted criminals; but, on finding they were to be bound, they suddenly started forward and defended themselves with all the desperation of despair. They wounded three of the king's huntsmen with their daggers, and, amid the confusion and tumult occasioned by their unexpected onset, contrived to tear themselves loose, and instantly plunged into the lake. Some hunters pursued them on horseback, and a couple of hounds, trained to hunt the wild-duck, were let loose after them; but the fugitives dived and swam with such skill and vigour that none could see them until they landed on the opposite shore of the lake, where they quickly disappeared in the brushwood.

The king and his train had gone down to the water's edge to look at this singular sight. Some hunters were ordered to ride round the lake, in order if possible to overtake the fugitives. Drost AagÉ would also have despatched some one after the pretended deaf man, whom he now believed to be in league with the deserters.

"No!" said the king, "he shall not be pursued. I use not to put gold into a man's hand one hour, and fasten iron round it the next."

The party now returned to partake of the repast which was spread for them. As soon as they had refreshed themselves they mounted their horses, and were about to proceed further, but the sound of hunting-horns was now heard on the road from Elsinore, and three riders in rich attire, with several knights and huntsmen, approached at full gallop. It was the king's brother, Junker Christopher, with the young Margrave Waldemar of Brandenborg, who was at this time the king's guest, and the brave Count Henrik of Mecklenborg, who had lately entered the king's service as commander of the army. They had been at Elsinore, where Prince Christopher had received a Swedish royal embassy on the part of the king. The margrave, it was said, had accompanied him for his amusement, and to enjoy the beautiful scenery of Elsinore, but had in reality joined the expedition at the request of Prince Christopher, who anxiously courted the young margrave's friendship. The prince seemed inseparable from him, and generally contrived to secure his companionship whenever he was charged with any important mission by the king, that it might give him opportunities, which he eagerly sought, of raising his consequence in the eyes of the people.

Prince Christopher, or the Junker, as he was generally called, was two years younger than the king. Though tall and strongly built, his figure was far from being so well proportioned as his brother's. His large features and long visage, shaded by coarse long black hair, had a gloomy and sinister expression, which reminded the people but too much of his detested father. His brother, the king, on the contrary, bore a greater resemblance to his mother, the fair and talented Queen Agnes, who, during the king's minority, had been for the most part at the head of state affairs, but who now led a happy private life with her second consort, Count Gerhard of Holstein, at the castle of NykjÖping. The popularity which the chivalrous King Eric had enjoyed from his childhood appeared little pleasing to his brother, and many believed that the prince secretly exerted himself to form a powerful party of his own in the country. In the event of the throne becoming vacant, he was in fact the member of the royal house who might first expect to be called to the crown, but of this there was no reasonable prospect. Notwithstanding that some differences had existed between the brothers on the affair of the archbishop's imprisonment, King Eric was so far from showing any mistrust of his brother, that he even promoted his consequence by investing him with considerable fiefs in the country. But Drost AagÉ strongly suspected the prince of entertaining ambitious and treacherous projects, and the Drost's suspicions of Christopher were rather increased than diminished by the zeal with which, the prince seemed to enter into the negociations respecting the king's marriage. As well on this subject, of such moment to the king, as on that of the Swedish King Birger's marriage with the king's and Christopher's sister MeretÉ, there were at this time frequent communications between the Swedish and Danish court. The young King of Sweden was only in his sixteenth year, and wholly dependent on his state council, which was composed of men of very opposite opinions, and Drost AagÉ feared that Prince Christopher's object in receiving the embassy was to increase if possible the obstacles to this double alliance. AagÉ was, however, deterred from imparting his doubts to the king by the fear of occasioning a dangerous misunderstanding between the brothers; and Eric was so far from suspecting his brother of any dishonourable design, that he considered his anxiety to meet the Swedish embassy as a proof of fraternal affection. The young king welcomed both Christopher and the margrave with much friendliness; and as soon as he had greeted them, and the gay Count Henrik, turned towards the Swedish ambassadors, who, with some Danish knights, followed the princely comers. In the most dignified of the two Swedish nobles Eric joyfully recognised King Birger's faithful counsellor, the Swedish regent and Marsk, Sir Thorkild Knudson, a tall middle-aged man, of a grave and noble countenance; but it was not without a feeling of uneasiness that the king beheld his companion, a withered shrunken figure, whose cold and wily countenance wore a perpetual smile, and whose grey, staring ostrich-like eye had an expression of sinister scrutiny. It was the Swedish statesman and Drost, Sir Johan BrunckÉ, who, next to Thorkild Knudson, was the most influential statesman in Sweden, and appeared to stand as high in favour with the weak King Birger as with his ambitious brothers, while he gained a knowledge of the individual foibles of each, and well knew how to work upon them for his own advantage.

When the king had greeted the strangers, he proceeded with his augmented train to Esrom monastery, where he conversed with the ambassadors, and received letters from King Birger, Princess Ingeborg, and his sister MeretÉ, who, according to an earlier agreement, had been brought up, as the future Queen of Sweden, at the Swedish court. Eric seemed unusually joyous and animated after he had perused these letters. His anxiety to hasten his marriage, and to have it fixed for the ensuing summer, had met with the entire approbation of the royal house of Sweden, and Princess Ingeborg's letter breathed the most tender and devoted affection.

The difficulties and objections stated by the ambassador principally regarded the misunderstanding with the court of Rome, and the dispensation which was yet withheld, to which the king, misled by the ardour of his feelings, did not attach the importance it deserved.

He invited the ambassadors to be his guests for some weeks, as he hoped very shortly to remove all difficulties. The afternoon was spent pleasantly in hunting, and in the evening the king, with the whole of his train, repaired to SjÖborg, where several cars, conveying the cooks of the royal kitchen, and domestics of every description, had arrived during the day.