Drost AagÉ was compelled to prosecute his journey early the next morning, without having been able to discover Sir Helmer and the squire. When AagÉ and the royal halberdiers left Skanor, they were followed through the streets by a great crowd of persons. It appeared that the burghers had learned, or conjectured, the object of this showy procession.

The ballad, "For Eric the youthful king!" was as popular in Scania as in Denmark. "Long live king Eric and his true men!" shouted the crowd. "Bring him and Denmark a second Dagmar, good sirs!"

AagÉ rejoiced at these tokens of the disposition of the brave Scanians; but he entertained little hope of a happy result from his embassy, and he was under great anxiety for the fate of the brave Sir Helmer and his own alert and trusty squire. Two of his other squires, and three of the young knights remained dangerously wounded at Skanor.

Sir Helmer, and his companions, had followed the bragging Rostocker and his seamen to their inn. They had unanimously resolved with their own hands to chastise and humble the overbearing Hanseatics. While at the inn the Drost's squire had displayed a false coin, with which one of the lower class had been imposed upon in Berner Kopmand's booth, and it was affirmed the Rostockers had brought with them whole chests of such money. It was conjectured, and with reason, that this false money was coined by the outlaws, who the preceding year had captured some of the king's chief coiners. Complaints of false coin had frequently been made before, and now that it was heard the Rostockers imported them by bushels, the indignation instantly became great and general, and a fight soon commenced with the foreign merchants and skippers. When the Hanseatics were chased from the quay of Skanor, Sir Helmer had eagerly pursued the armed seamen, and had assisted in rolling into the sea some chests containing their bad money; at last, accompanied by the Drost's squire, the daring Canute, he had sprung after them into the boat to hinder their flight; but here they were overpowered by numbers, and dragged captive on board the Rostock vessel.

Sorely wounded, and with hands and feet fast bound, Helmer and his companion were thrown down into the ship's hold. Here they lay the whole night among a number of ale barrels, firkins of salt, and sacks of groceries, which had not been unladen. The vessel rolled heavily; the weather had become boisterous, and those on board seemed only busied in saving ship and goods. At length the weather grew calmer. The strong motion of the ship ceased; it glided slowly and almost imperceptibly forward, and all became quiet on deck. The wearied seamen appeared to sleep. Sir Helmer now perceived a faint light above his head. He thought it was daylight; but soon discovered it was the moon shining in upon him through a chink in the ship's hatches directly above him. He presently heard the voices of two men in the stillness of the night; and recognised the tones of Berner Kopmand and Henrik Gullandsfar. "I cannot sleep for wrath and wound-smarting," growled the Rostocker. "Lo! this is the free trade and security one has to expect when a greenhorn sits on the throne, and justice lies in the knights' lances. Pestilence and destruction on the whole pack of puffed-up aristocrats! The accursed sycophants and slaves of kings and tyrants! They would have it seem as if they protected the people and the burghers--pshaw! It is but for themselves and their high master they fight. Had I not spoken those bold words against their strutting knight-king at SjÖborg, nor had that piece of royal game of an outlaw on board, our money would surely have been as good ware as before. They are a vile robber pack, the whole set of them that call themselves knights and noble, as well here as in Germany--as long as there are thrones and knights' castles left, neither trade nor burghership can thrive. So soon as the sun rises those two jackanapes we laid hold of shall dangle at the yard-arm."

"Hearest thou, countryman?" whispered Helmer in the hold to his fellow-prisoner, "that concerns us two; a pleasant prospect! Could we but sink the ship and drown the braggart grocers we could go down to our home with some sort of pleasure."

"That would be truly but a sorry jest, and a slender satisfaction. Sir Helmer; still, it would be better than to let oneself be hanged by those rascals," answered the squire. "I have torn the skin off my left hand," he continued; "but it can slip well enough out of the knot. If I am allowed but half an hour for it our bonds shall be loosened. I have a good clasp knife in my pocket; yonder lies a good ship's auger, and an axe; many a hearty blow shall be dealt ere they get the halter round our necks."

"The Lord and St. George assist us!" whispered Helmer, breathing hard, "if I 'scape hence alive, and see my dear Anna again," he added, with a smothered sigh, "I promise St. George a new altar-table, and every bottle-nosed Hanseatic I meet a broken head!"

"'Tis a pious vow, noble sir!" whispered the squire, "you will see it will help us. Now my hand slides out of the knot; but it pinches hard."

"Hush!" whispered Helmer, rolling himself nearer to the chink in the hatches.

"I ever told you it was a bad business with that money-trading, and that coining with the outlaws," now said the smoother, toned voice of Henrik Gullandsfar above the knight's head. "No clear profit is ever got by such dealings; it lessens faith, and rarely pays in the long run, Master Berner! No! with pure gold and silver might we rule the world; and sober prudence would sway the gold sceptre--that I have ever said. With a little less eagerness we should, perhaps, have made a better market in Scania; but you will drive everything through with might, Master Berner!"

"Might against might! that was ever my word in the covenant: there may be something in what you say," answered the Rostocker, "of the gold and silver sceptre; it may just as well, however, be alloyed with a little copper or tin, when none perceive it; but with pure sharp steel it must be defended. Ere we can lay the sword in the balance against all the crowns and armorial bearings in the world, our proud plan is but a glittering castle in the air."

"Give time, Master Berner," resumed Gullandsfar; "the great Rome was not built in one day, yet she became the ruler of the world. Let us first rid the seas and the highways of petty robbers, and then we may let fly at the great in their castles and thrones. Let us first get possession of the sea! then shall it overflow the earth with our waves! It shall heap us up mountains of gold, and wash away every castle and throne that stands in our way. We Wisbye men lie very close to the King of Denmark; we must be cautious, even though as prudent merchants we give patriotism to death and the devil. You Rostockers are too hot-headed; one should not break too soon with authorities. The menace at SjÖberg was a stupid trick: I did but assent to it, and was silent for your sake. It never answers to bluster and threaten unless one can fight at the same time; and it answers just as little to fight, unless we know we are the strongest."

"Out upon your caution!" growled the Rostocker. "We have power already if we will but use it; we may have as many souls in our service as we can pay for."

"Men's souls are dear merchandise," observed Gullandsfar; "and besides it easily corrupts and spoils. How many marks of pure silver hath not that miserable fellow on the quarter deck yonder already cost you? And he is, after all, but a villanous outlaw and renegade from our high-born deadly foes. That pack no wise burgher should count on."

"Such a fellow is worth his weight in gold," said the Rostocker with a laugh. "Mark! those aristocratic vermin shall now devour each other. A dishonoured and death-doomed knight, without castle and lands, whose honour and name have been scalded off him may be the best king-killer one could have; he, yonder, is practised in the trade! He was in Finnerup barn. I will let him loose in the harbour! I will smuggle him in among our agents--there will soon be troubled waters to fish in. The crowned green-horn shall not have turned his back on us at SjÖberg for nothing. Mark! he shall have other things to think on than keeping his bridal in the summer."

"We are not authorised by the covenant to go so far as that, however, Master Berner," remarked Gullandsfar. "What yon dishonoured knight may have to avenge is his own concern; his and your secret trade concerns not the league; I would rather have nothing to do with that smuggling traffic. When the prosperity of the league, and a great and matchless plan like ours is in question, we should wisely set aside private revenge, and all petty personal views."

"Do you slink? Are you afraid, Master colleague?" growled Berner Kopmand, beginning to talk loud. "Let not that concern you my wise Master Henrik! You need not tell an old reckoner what is small and what is great. I can as well as you make a difference between what I undertake in the Hanse-towns' name, and what I risk in my own. If I reckon wrong, the loss is Berner Kopmand's. I know what that man can stand; and you are right--the covenant hath naught to do with it!"

"If it fails, it may however injure our trade and enterprises in great matters," replied Henrik Gullandsfar in a tone of calm calculation. "Consider the point well, Master Berner! All ports are now open to us; the king is proud and authoritative, but nevertheless he favours us far more than we could expect from his policy. Our 'prentices and agents are protected in the sea-ports--our trade is as free and untaxed here as any where--it hath not struck any one but the king himself that the road to salt and pepper, to ale and German cloth, as we heard from his own lips, is equally broad and convenient for all, and Danish corn and cattle will give a good return, and pay both wages and taxes. St. Nicolas and St. Hermes be thanked! the navigation is ours. They are too dull and lazy to understand their own interests. The peasant is content with small beer, and the citizen with skim milk, and they let us run off with the ale and the cream; but if you make good your threat, secretly or openly, and if anything a little too notorious chances here, in which the Hanse have lot or part, people's eyes may be opened, and our trading dominion is at an end here in the north."

"The eyes which might be most dangerous to us were they wide open, are just those I would have shut," muttered the Rostocker. "Greater service could none do the Hanse in these kingdoms and lands,--but silence! What is that? I heard something move under us. The captives are surely not loose?"

"The captives! Death and misfortune!" exclaimed Henrik. "Have they cast them into the hold? Then perhaps they now know more than any living soul must carry farther."

"It matters not, Master colleague," said the Rostocker with a scornful laugh, "they shall not carry it farther, however, than to the yard-arm! Now doth the sun rise red as pure gold--that sight they shall see for the last time. Ho! steersman!" he shouted, "how far are we?"

"If a breeze springs up, we shall reach Kallebo ere it rings to mass in Copenhagen, Master!" answered a hoarse voice at the helm.

"That's well! Then we will keep mattins and ship's law on our own ground, ere the Bishop takes Lubeck law out of our hands. Up! all hands! Ring the great bell!"

The sound of a brass bell instantly assembled all the seamen upon deck.

"Bring the prisoners up here, boatswain!" continued the captain of the vessel. "Sing out, fellows! Shout forth the poor sinners' vigil. Let the Danish scoundrels hear we are good Christians! and let their houndish souls go to hell amid song and clang!"

While the ship's crew with a fearful bellowing chaunted a sort of hymn on the departure of sinners from the world, and two sturdy fellows in tarry jackets coolly fastened two ropes to the yard-arm, the hatches of the ship's hold were opened and the boatswain went below with two armed men. Cries and tumult were heard in the hold; all became instantly quiet again, but neither the boatswain nor the two men returned.

"What is this?" exclaimed Berner Kopmand in dismay. "What is become of them? Those Danish hell-hounds must be loose! Down after them fellows! Bring them up here dead or alive! Hence! below! or ye shall be scourged at the mast!"

The whole ship's crew were in commotion; they flocked to the hatchway, but none seemed to like to go below, despite the threats of the stern captain.

"The first who sets foot here below dies!" said Sir Helmer's voice from the hold. "Ere, I and my comrade will let our necks be twisted by your grocer hands, by St. Michael and his flaming sword! ye shall all of ye go with us to the bottom of the sea--Any moment I please every soul of us shall perish. We have bored a ground-leak--we loosen ye a plank with a single pull."

"That devil of a fellow!" cried the Rostocker, growing deadly pale, "he hath us all in his power. What are we to do?"

"We must treat with them," answered Gullandsfar. "Aside all men! Let me speak with that worthy knight. This is doubtless a little stratagem of war, noble Sir knight!" began Master Henrik, courteously; "but since we cannot search into the matter without peril of our lives we will submit to necessity, and acknowledge you have this once very craftily ensnared us. What have ye done to our three men, noble sir?"

"They have met with their deserts, and lie here stone dead," answered the knight. "Thus it shall fare with all of ye--if ye will fight with us fairly, three at once, we will encounter on dry boards; but if more come, the sea shall help us. Throw us our own good swords below instantly! or we will try who best can swim."

"You have won back your freedom with honour, noble sir!" answered Gullandsfar, "If ye would believe my word you might safely come here among us; we are peaceable people, and purpose not to measure our skill in arms with yours. Your swords shall instantly be returned to you; but upon one condition, noble knight--you must only use the sword in self-defence, and not to assault any of us as long as you are here on board; for this I demand your knightly word of Honour."

"That I promise on my faith and honour," cried Helmer,--and two swords were instantly thrown down to them.

"We will set you unscathed on shore at Copenhagen, noble sir," continued Henrik Gullandsfar, "provided you promise to be silent concerning what you perhaps may have heard and perceived, which might get us into disfavour in high places, or injure our trade and enterprises."

"I leave grocers and pettifoggers to wage war with the tongue," answered the knight haughtily. "What I have heard of your fine plans and projects I deem not worth wasting one word upon; but from this hour I defy you all to the death.--Until I set foot on shore you are unmolested; but from the moment we separate broken heads will be the consequence of our meeting."

"That is but natural," returned Gullandsfar. "We accept your proffer in the first instance; keep but quiet! In a few hours you will be on shore."

There was a murmur of dissatisfaction and uneasiness on board the vessel. Some of the boldest seamen grumbled at the shameful peace with the two captives. They blamed Henrik Gullandsfar for cowardice and treachery; but none cared to go down into the hold, and dare an encounter with the redoubted captives, who had both ship and crew in their power. At last, however, they submitted to necessity. Berner Kopmand had lost the use of his tongue, and the discreet Master Henrik had taken the command of the ship. He ordered every one to go quietly about their business, and was obeyed without any objections being made. The captain himself stood on the forecastle, with rolling eyes and crimson cheeks. He concealed with his large person a man in a black priestly mantle, who conversed with him in a low tone, and kept his back constantly turned towards the stern. A fresh breeze had sprung up. The wind was favourable, and ere noon the vessel glided into Kallebo strand, between the Isle of Amak and the green pastures of the village of Solbierg, which occupied the whole of the western side where the suburb of Copenhagen, Vesterbro, was afterwards built. It was a fine spring day. The proud castle of Axelhuus^[12] rose towards the east in the sunshine, with its circular walls and its two round towers, and was mirrored in the surrounding waters. The castle lay apart from the town, without any bridge, and was only accessible by boats. Behind the castle island were two other small islands, almost covered with buildings, whither boats were constantly plying. The one was the abode of the stationary skippers, and on the other (Bremen Island) the warehouses of the Bremen merchants seemed to tower in emulation of the castle of Axelhuus itself. The Rostock vessel steered not to the great haven, from which the city afterwards derived its name, but ran into the Catsound, on both sides of which were seen a number of small houses of frame-work, the walls of which were plastered with clay, and the roofs thatched with straw and reeds; between the houses were cabbage gardens and orchards, with wooden fences, or thorn hedges; and in the neighbourhood of the quay was seen the little church of St. Clement.

FOOTNOTES

Footnote 1: The word Runes is here used in its original signification,--that of mystery or secret. Each letter of the Runic alphabet was supposed to possess a mysterious and magical power. In the Scandinavian mythology, each Rune was originally dedicated to some deity; it also denoted some natural quality or object: their Asiatic origin is now proved beyond doubt. There is a remarkable poem in the elder Edda--the Song of BrynhildÉ, in which mention is made of several kinds of Runes. Among them may be classed numerous amulets of most of the Asiatic tribes, as well as of the Egyptians, Greeks, &c., on which these characters were cut or traced. The custom among sailors of marking their skins with letters and devices may clearly be traced to Runic origin, and the tattooing among savage tribes is evidently similarly derived. In Wilson's account of the Pelew Islands, King Abba ThulÉ is represented as tattooed with two crosses on the breast and two on one shoulder, with a snake, and these distinct northern Runes [Illustration of rune]. In the fifteenth, sixteenth, and seventeenth centuries, when superstition dragged her victims to the stake throughout all Christian Europe, the use of Runes became an especial object for the persecutions exercised by the authorities and clergy of Iceland,--the word Rune there signifying a mysterious and magical character. The songs of the Finns and Laps, which are supposed by them to possess magic powers, are still called Runes.--Translator. Vide Professor Finn Magnussen's Notes to the Elder Edda, vol. iii.

Footnote 2: King Eric the Sixth of Denmark, surnamed Plough Penny, the son and successor of Valdemar the Victorious, was murdered by the command of his brother, Junker Abel, Duke of Slesvig, under circumstances of peculiar atrocity, on the 4th of August, 1250. Abel had frequently rebelled against his brother; but at last finding that his forces were unequal to the contest, he had recourse to stratagem, and made overtures of friendship to Eric, who gladly accepted them, and hesitated not to visit his brother at one of his palaces in Slesvig. After an apparently cordial reception, however, the duke contrived to turn the conversation on their former feuds, and reproached the king with having devastated his territories, saying, "Dost thou not remember how thou didst plunder my town of Slesvig, and compel my daughter to fly barefoot to a place of shelter? Thou shalt not do so twice." Eric was then seized and led to the river Slie, where he was placed in a boat, beheaded, and his body sunk by stones into the deepest part of the stream. In order to cover this crime, Duke Abel and twenty-four of his knights, according to the usage of those times, endeavoured to clear themselves of suspicion, by solemnly affirming that the king had met with his death by the upsetting of the boat, but two months afterwards the headless trunk floated to the river side, and the murder became known. The body was deposited in St. Benedict's church at Ringsted, where the Translator not long ago was shown one of the bones through an aperture of the walled-up niche.

Footnote 3: The placing runes upon the tongue was employed in Runic magic to waken the dead priestess, and compel her to give a prophetic answer to the magician whose spells had aroused her from the sleep of death. In the song of Vegtam, in the Elder Edda, known to the English reader in our poet Gray's fine translation, "The Descent of Odin," the Scandinavian bard describes the magic power of runes traced on the ground towards the north, and repeated as incantations, in calling forth the prophetic response from the tomb.

Right against the eastern gate,
By the moss-grown pile he sate,
Where long of yore to sleep was laid
The dust of the prophetic maid;
Facing to the northern clime,
Thrice he traced the Runic rhyme;
Thrice pronounced in accents dread,
The thrilling verse that wakes the dead,
Till from out the hollow ground,
Slowly breathed a sullen sound."