The attack upon Axelhuus had thrown the whole town into the greatest agitation. Even the most quiet and peaceable burghers could not conceal their satisfaction on the occasion, and many of them took an open share in the insurrection. The wild shouts of exultation which were heard each time a shower of stones poured into the castle, sufficiently showed the general feeling of indignation, not alone against prelatical rule but chiefly against the archbishop, for whose sake, and by whose powerful influence, the exasperating interdict had been enforced. Grand's name was the watchword on the commencement of every fresh attack. The provost, with his armed attendants, vainly strove to restore order and quietness; wherever he appeared with the bishop's men-at-arms, he was instantly driven back by the enraged populace. The report of the king's arrival at SorretslÓv, and the uneasy terms he was on with the inmates of Axelhuus, had given a new and loyal impulse to the insurrection; as the mob now believed that, by their attack on the ecclesiastical dignitaries, they were making common cause with the king, against his and the kingdom's arrogant foes. The provost had ordered all the gates of the town to be locked, but the insurgents had forced them, and a great number of people, among whom were some of the richest and most peaceable inhabitants, hastened out of the north gate of SorretslÓv to see the king and intreat his support. Another crowd flocked to the tower of St. Mary's church, and rang the alarm bell. "Away with the holy wolves at the castle!" was the cry throughout the streets. Without the well-lighted council-house, where the council was assembled, and whither several captive insurgents had been brought, there was a fearful uproar. The mob demanded the liberation of the prisoners and threatened to fire the council-house. There was a great tumult also at the Catsound:--"Out with all the boats!" was the cry of the mob, "Throw the grocer-wares overboard! Drive the pepper 'prentices to the devil! Let's fire the castle! Let no soul escape! Death to the foes of king and country!"

Meanwhile there were more cries and shouts than deeds in most places, and the wild alarmists were in motion in the most opposite directions, but, on the old strand, a person was seen who had brought order and plan into the attack; it was Sir Helmer Blaa, who, with warlike eagerness, posted the balista on the strand, and instructed the burghers how to use these engines with force and effect. For some hours he stood unwearied at this his favourite occupation, and where he led the attack the castle sustained considerable damage.

The captive insurgents meanwhile had been liberated at the council-house. A great number of the council had joined the insurgents' party, and taken up arms against the bishop. The rest of the counsellors had escaped at the imminent peril of their lives, and some of them had succeeded in getting out amongst the crowd through the north gate, and reaching the king's castle at SorretslÓv, where they found the king already on horseback, at the head of his knights and spearmen, in readiness to enter the town himself and quell the insurrection.

The evening was closing in. The insurrection had already risen to such a height that most of the burghers had become alarmed at their own undertaking, and every resident inhabitant began to fear for the safety of his property and family; while the unbridled mob considered themselves freed from all laws of decency and order. The king now galloped in through the north gate, by Count Henrik's side, at the head of his troop of knights, and followed by the tall, handsome, lance-bearers who formed his body guard.

At St. Peter's church, close to the northern gate of the town, and at St. Mary's, his progress was almost hindered by the thronging crowds. At both places the insurgents had forced the church doors and compelled the priests to perform mass. The pious chaunts from the churches sounded strange and mournful, amid the wild shouts of the mutineers.

"That devotion doubtless proceeds more from defiance that piety," said the king to Count Henrik, "yet assuredly, none shall hinder them from God's worship, provided it be conducted with decency and order." He ordered a guard to be stationed by both churches to check all disturbances, and rode on. Wherever he appeared he was received with the most devoted homage, and with joyous acclamations; which were, however, somewhat subdued in those who were most obstreperous, on seeing the provost and two of the council among the king's nearest followers. An uneasy murmur was heard, here and there, and the people gradually began to comprehend that the king came not hither to take part with the insurgents against their rulers, but to maintain the lawful government of the town, and restore public tranquillity.

"Silence, good people! Let every one go to his home! Lay down your arms!" said the king, in a grave but kindly tone, as he returned the greetings of the people and stopped his horse.

A silence ensued and the crowd thronged around him with attention to hear what he said. "I come as your protector, and the upholder of law and justice in my kingdom," he continued. "That which you can reasonably demand of the bishop he shall grant you. The shutting of the churches shall be at an end--the church-doors shall be thrown open--that I promise you. As to the rest, you must obey your rulers," he added sternly. "What hath happened here shall be narrowly inquired into. There shall be peace and order in the town; he who from this hour takes the law into his own hands, shall lose his life and reap the reward of his deeds." An instant stillness prevailed wherever these words were heard. The insurgents, and all who bore arms, decamped; but a great crowd of unarmed burghers followed the king with loud acclamations through the streets.

At the old strand the bombardment of Axelhuus was still carried on with great zeal. The castle island was surrounded by boats filled with bowmen and torch-bearers. Preparations were already begun for storming and firing Axelhuus, The fight was now maintained on both sides, and arrows and stones from balista were shot from the towers and battlements of the castle.

"The king!--the king! with the provost and council," was re-echoed from mouth to mouth, and it seemed as if a stroke of lightning had lamed every arm. "Long live the king!" shouted the insurgents, and many threw down their weapons. "No more war!--the king will judge between us and the bishop!" The clattering of the horses' hoofs was already heard; the crowd gave way on all sides to make room for the king and his knights. The people shouted and made signals to the bowmen and brandmen in the numerous boats which surrounded the castle island; in an instant nearly all the brands and torches were extinguished in the water, and the assailants rowed hastily back from the besieged castle. The shooting, however, still continued from a battery of balista on the shore: it was here Sir Helmer had stationed himself. His whole attention was so engrossed in the working of the balista, that he was unconscious of what was passing around him; he thought the bowmen and torch-throwers had been put to flight, but observed not the general cessation of the attack, nor the arrival of the king. "Go on, go on, countrymen!" he shouted. "Cheerily! brave Danish men! Will you let yourselves be worsted by the bishop's slaves? Down with their towers and walls!" He was still issuing the word of command to the balista slingers, when, to his dismay, he heard the king's voice over head.

"What see I? Sir Helmer! you here! and in the midst of rebels? Is this accompanying the Drost to Stockholm? Is it thus you serve and obey your king? He is your prisoner, Count Henrik!"

"My liege and sovereign!" exclaimed Sir Helmer, stretching out his arms towards the king, who halted before him on his tall white charger, with a look of stern menace. "Hear me, I conjure you!"

"Not a word!" interrupted the king, with vehemence; "would you make me a faithless perjurer? In the castle you are besieging I have promised peace and safety to my deadly foe. I break not my word, even were it pledged to the devil. If a hair of his head hath been injured it shall cost you dear. Take my halberdier with you, Count Henrik--put him under knightly arrest at the castle! To-morrow he shall be judged for his lawless conduct. Take my greeting and assurance of peace to the bishop and cardinal," he added in a lower tone. "Take to Grand my last behest and warning! You are responsible for the observance of our passport!"

"Your will shall be obeyed, my liege!" answered Count Henrik, springing from his horse. "Follow me quietly, Sir Helmer," he whispered to the restless and impetuous captain of the balista slingers, "to-morrow you can justify yourself--now you must be silent and obey."

Helmer bit his lip in wrath as he gave up his sword to Henrik, and followed him in silence. Count Henrik, with a considerable train of knights and squires, took instant possession of a barge which the insurgents had just deserted. He caused a white flag to be hoisted, and made preparations for crossing over to the castle island, while the king furthermore enjoined peace and quietness in the town, and rode with the rest of his train the whole length of the strand, amid the vast concourse of people, who partly from curiosity, partly from attachment, continued to accompany him. The balista were instantly dragged off the shore, from whence the armed insurgents had also decamped, awed apparently by the king's severity towards one of his favourite knights.

By the church of St. Nicolas, opposite the little island called "The Skipper's Ground," the king was again stopped by a numerous and unruly mob, in which there were many armed men of a gloomy and wild appearance, who were muttering prayers and psalms, interlarded with imprecations and threats against all priests and bishops. On the king's appearance the uproar was hushed, and most of the weapons disappeared at his command. The church doors were also forced here; all the ecclesiastics and their attendants had fled. The people themselves had rung the bell for vespers, and had dragged a monk into the church in order to compel him to sing the AvÉ, despite the interdict of bishop and pope.

The king instantly dismounted and entered the church. Half dead with terror, and as it were with his life in his hands, an aged Dominican stood before the altar with rent garments, and strove in vain to chaunt the customary evening prayers with calmness and dignity, while the turbulent crowd surrounded him with looks of wild menace, and with torches, axes, and glittering swords in their hands. A group of butchers and half-drunken mechanics, headed by a tall carpenter, stood nearest the altar, and frequently interrupted the monk with scoffs and threats.

"Peace here, in the Lord's house!" said the king in a loud voice, as he entered the church. "Bend the knee, all of ye, and pray the merciful God to pardon you! Go in peace, pious father!--if thou darest not to pray for our souls.--God hears us, however, despite the ban, if we are but sincere. The All-righteous be gracious to us all, and pardon us our sins!" So saying, the king bent his knee before the altar, and all fell, as if struck by lightning, on the floor. A deathlike silence prevailed for a moment.

It now appeared as if the aged Dominican was suddenly inspired by a feeling of lofty and intrepid enthusiasm. In a solemn voice he chaunted a "Gloria," and afterwards an "Ave," in which he was followed by the king and the whole congregation. The king then arose, and calm and silent quitted the church. He mounted his horse and rode onwards. "Holy Virgin, pray for us!" still resounded with calm solemnity from the kneeling congregation in St. Nicolas church; and when the king again returned through the strand street opposite Axelhuus, to repair to his castle at SorretslÓv, tranquillity appeared to be fully restored. Lights gleamed in the calm spring eve in most of the windows; at Axelhuus also, all now seemed tranquil. Count Henrik had sent the provost and two counsellors on before him in a small boat to announce his coming to the bishop, while the Count himself with his train in the great barge approached the castle island with tardy strokes of the oar. Sir Helmer stood silent and thoughtful, as a disarmed captive, in the barge by Count Henrik's side, indignant at being now carried to imprisonment in that castle which he had recently, as a conquering general, assisted the burghers to besiege. He now, indeed, perceived that he had acted rashly in taking a part in the insurrection; but he thought, nevertheless, that the king's conduct towards him was much too severe; his looks and glowing cheek betrayed that his pride was deeply wounded. As he revolved these thoughts a boat from the castle island rowed rapidly towards them, and glided close past the barge. "Ha! the pepper 'prentice!" exclaimed Sir Helmer, suddenly springing like a madman into the boat. Count Henrik saw with surprise that his captive commenced wrestling on the gunwale with a German pepper 'prentice, and plunged with his antagonist into the deep stream, while the boat disappeared with the speed of an arrow in the twilight.

"Save him, save him!" shouted Count Henrik, and stopped the rowers. Sir Helmer's plumed hat floated on the water at some distance; it was taken up; but neither himself nor his unknown adversary were to be seen. The rapid current appeared to have instantly borne them away, and all search after them with oars and boat-hooks proved fruitless.

"The Lord have mercy on his soul!" said Count Henrik with a sigh. "He was the boldest knight I ever knew--but a thoughtless madcap he ever was. He hath escaped captivity though, and perhaps a stern sentence to-morrow; but the king hath lost a true friend. On, fellows! We find him not--perhaps he hath helped himself; he was a good swimmer."

In the boat which shot past, and which had been nearly upset by the sudden and violent struggle, two persons attired as ecclesiastics had been seen, and the rowers thought they recognised in one of them the archbishop's crafty friend Johan Rodis.

In the harbour of Axelhuus lay the royal vessel "Waldemar the Victorious," on board of which the archbishop, through the mediation of the cardinal, had been brought from Hammershuus, under royal convoy. According to the tenor of the passport, the captain with all his crew had been sworn by the archbishop, and had bound themselves to convey him from Axelhuus at a moment's warning, in case he should not believe himself safe, and also to bring him and the papal nuncio to whatever foreign port they chose. Just as Count Henrik was about to land on the castle island a large rowing boat approached the royal vessel.

"Our lord bishop, with the archbishop, and the red hat!" said the boatmen; "they are making for the Waldemar."

"Then row after them with all your might!" ordered Count Henrik; "there is no time to lose; haste!" Ere they reached the ship, the cardinal and the archbishop were already on board, and the sails were about to be hoisted. In the boat stood Bishop Johan with a number of clerks, and was wishing his exalted guests a safe and fortunate passage.

"I bring you the same good wishes from my liege and sovereign, most venerable sirs!" cried County Henrik, taking off his hat. "Your safe departure hath been cared for. As soon as the king learnt your distress, and the insurrection of the mob, he hasted hither in person to your protection. I have commands to escort you out of the harbour, and see you safe from all possible danger."

"Bring the King of Denmark my farewell, and my thanks for his support," answered the cardinal, through his interpreter. "I have been myself a witness to it, and I must see justice done to his generosity towards his foe, as well as to his kingly temper, and his strict keeping of promise. I now quit the country without having succeeded in establishing here the peace I desired; but I trust once again to see King Eric and Denmark under happier auspices."

"When you come with peace and blessing, your eminence will be welcome!" answered Count Henrik; "but you have already seen solemn proofs of the temper with which the Danish people put up with ban and interdict. My liege the king prays your eminence to bring the holy father tidings of this, together with his humble and filial greeting; he places with confidence his own and his people's just cause before the judgment seat of his holiness; but whatever the sentence may prove to be, according to ecclesiastical and canonical law, my liege, King Eric of Denmark, as the temporal ruler of this land and the protector of public peace, is necessitated in the most peremptory manner to declare Archbishop Grand of Lund for ever banished from these kingdoms and lands."

"Banished!" repeated a hollow voice from the vessel, and the tall Archbishop Grand appeared at the gangway. "Who dares pronounce that sentence upon an anointed prince of the church? For this no king on earth hath power. That king's servant who hath dared to bring me such a message, I declare to be under the ban of the church."

Count Henrik started, but still stood calm and courteous with hat in hand waiting to hear what the bishop had further to say.

"Whether I again set foot on Danish ground," continued Grand, "depends upon myself and the holy father. I now shake off the dust from my martyred feet, and quit my ungrateful father-land; but ere the fullest compensation hath been made me for all I have here suffered contrary to the laws of God and man, there shall no blessing come upon state and country, and upon Denmark's excommunicated king--that I swear by the Almighty and all the saints! Tell the tyrant who sent you--from me, the church's primate in the north--should King Eric Erieson now dare, without dispensation and consent of the church, to complete his ungodly espousals in forbidden consanguinity, it shall surely be to the eternal damnation of himself and kingdom. Amen!"

At these words Count Henrik stamped in the barge, without however vouchsafing an answer to the incensed prelate. "Captain!" he called to the commander of the ship, who stood with his hat in his hand at the forecastle; "you will convey Archbishop Grand, in the king's name and under his convoy, safe on shore wherever he chooses, excepting only the king's states and kingdom. Whoever should dare to bring back this disturber of the peace to Denmark shall be judged as a traitor and rebel."

At Count Henrik's signal, the sails were hoisted, and the vessel sailed out of port with the dangerous prelate, whose last words to his native land were those of the so oft-repeated ban.

Count Henrik now greeted the lord of the castle of Axelhuus, the little bishop Johan, and delivered the king's message of peace and protection; under conditions, however, which he was invited to consider in an interview with the king at his castle of SorretslÓv. Count Henrik then gave a parting salutation to this friend and unsuccessful imitator of the archbishop, who seemed to meditate a haughty and impressive reply; but without awaiting it, Henrik made a signal to his boatmen to row forward, and followed the departing vessel at some distance, until it was seen to be fairly out of port and in open sea. The count then returned with his train to the town, where he instantly mounted his horse, and rode in silent and serious thought, but with cheerful looks and at a brisk trot through the town, and from thence on the road to SorretslÓv.