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 AagÉ, "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 AagÉ; "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 AagÉ, 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 AagÉ, 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 AagÉ, 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 AagÉ'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 AagÉ 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, AagÉ'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 BrunckÉ 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. AagÉ instantly recognised the papal nuncio, Cardinal Isarnus. The sight of this powerful prelate inspired AagÉ 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 AagÉ," 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 AagÉ; "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 AagÉ, 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, PallÉ! 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 AagÉ 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 PallÉ, 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 AagÉ's side, apparently annoyed at being despatched on this unlooked-for errand. AagÉ was silent also, and pursued the journey without noticing him.

"My presence is troublesome to you, perhaps, Sir Drost!" exclaimed PallÉ, 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 PallÉ!" answered AagÉ, 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 PallÉ; "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 AagÉ, 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 PallÉ, "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 AagÉ coloured deeply at this jeering speech. "By your leave, Sir PallÉ!" 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 PallÉ. "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; "GundelillÉ! 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; "GundelillÉ is my name still in the ballad of 'Sir PallÉ wooing the driver.' Perhaps you have not heard it, Sir PallÉ? I will gladly sing it you; it is vastly entertaining."

If any part of Sir PallÉ'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 AagÉ, 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 PallÉ 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 AagÉ. 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 PallÉ had checked his horse, and joined them again. He seemed perfectly to have recovered his self-possession. He assured Drost AagÉ 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 GundelillÉ," 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,

"Sing not that accursed song, fairest of maidens!" interrupted Sir PallÉ; "I will not offend you; but believe me, loveliest of the lovely----"

Without heeding him, she now sang aloud,

"Hush! I will not say a word more," interrupted Sir PallÉ again. "But if you knew how greatly I love and honour you----"

The sportive maiden set up a loud laugh, and continued to sing,

"Ha!~ that jest you shall dearly rue," whispered PallÉ, 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.

Sir PallÉ now rode round to Drost AagÉ's side, and did not again address himself to the captive maiden. He was silent and gloomy. He had observed with great wrath a repressed smile on the Drost's countenance; and the huntsmen who followed them laughed, and whispered together in a manner which too plainly indicated that Sir PallÉ and his unfortunate love adventure were the subject of their ridicule. The two younger huntsmen were strongly, attached to AagÉ; they had remarked how little acceptable Sir PallÉ's company was to him; and they now, as if to beguile the time, began to hum the well-known ballad of the brave knight Helmer Blaa. In one of the many scenes of violence which were the consequences of the proscription of the outlawed regicides, Helmer Blaa had slain Sir PallÉ's uncle. On this account he had for a long time been barbarously persecuted by Sir PallÉ and his six brothers, until he at last vanquished all the six in honourable self-defence, and compelled PallÉ to give him his sister in marriage, who, before this feud, had been betrothed to the gallant knight. This occurrence (so derogatory to Sir PallÉ's reputation) had attracted general attention, and almost every young fellow in the country could repeat a ballad in honour of the bold Helmer Blaa, who had not only been acquitted by the king and whole body of knighthood, but stood also high in favour with Eric. The burden of the song,--

fell on Sir PallÉ's ear.

He looked back towards the huntsmen, with a face glowing with rage, but they appeared not to notice it; and one of them sang aloud,--

"Your huntsmen, Sir Drost, would drive me hence with vile songs, I perceive," said Sir PallÉ, turning to AagÉ. "Is it you, or yonder pretty maiden, who have inspired them with this pleasant conceit?"

"You are perhaps not a lover of song, Sir PallÉ?" answered AagÉ; "that is unfortunate: the merry fellows wish to beguile the time for us on the road."

"If I hear aright," growled PallÉ, "that song may perhaps shorten the road to heaven for both of them if it is not presently ended."

"Think you so?" answered AagÉ carelessly. "If you will give us your company you must reconcile yourself to our merriment. Haste to sing the song to the end," he called to the huntsmen, "or Sir PallÉ will be wroth;" and the huntsmen sang gaily,--

"S'death!" shouted Sir PallÉ, and his sword flew from the scabbard. "If ye will have the sword come into play, you shall feel it too." So saying, he turned his horse, and rushed like a madman upon the huntsmen, who had not time to prepare for defence, ere his sword had cut through their jerkins, and inflicted one or two wounds. But the huntsmen, enraged at this sudden onset, drew their long hunting-knives, and threatened a bloody revenge. Ulrica shrieked on hearing the affray, and the elder sister turned pale. "Stop, knaves!" cried AagÉ, riding in between PallÉ and his antagonists: "two against one is not fair play. I will decide this matter alone with Sir PallÉ." The Drost had drawn his sword, and was expecting his opponent to turn towards him, but Sir PallÉ's horse seemed to have become suddenly skittish and unruly: it galloped off, on the road to Esrom, with its enraged master, whose spurs stuck in its sides, while he swore and brandished his sword over his head. The huntsmen laughed loudly at this sight. Ulrica joined in the laugh; and as soon as the slight wounds of the huntsmen had been bound up, the party pursued their journey, though in a different direction from that in which they had set out.

"I must have been mistaken," said Drost AagÉ to the huntsmen. "It could hardly have been to Kallundborg, but rather to Vordingborg, that the king commanded me to accompany these ladies; there he, and not Prince Christopher, is ruler. If there was other meaning in his words, I will be answerable for it." As they turned into a bye road, a tall man in a peasant's dress, mounted on a small peasant's horse, without a saddle, started out of the thicket by the road side, and suddenly disappeared again among the bushes. "KaggÉ!" exclaimed Ulrica, with involuntary delight, and seized her sister's arm. Margaretha gave her a significant look, and she was silent, but often gazed restlessly around.

Drost AagÉ had heard the exclamation, and started. The name of KaggÉ was but too familiar to him. A squire of noble birth of this name had been among Eric Glipping's murderers at Finnerup; he had fled with the other outlaws to Norway, and was prohibited, on pain of death, from setting foot on Danish ground; had he, notwithstanding, been in the train of the captive maidens, their connection with so dangerous a traitor might operate greatly against them. This incident obliged the Drost to be on the watch over the security of his captives. Silent and anxious he pursued the journey.