The Childhood of King Erik Menved Part 71

"Across the table he struck her sore-- 'Beware this speech our guests before!'

"And he struck her on the cheek so red-- 'I did not wish King Erik dead, Though spurned by kith and kin.'"

"Dost hear?" again whispered Kirstine: "thou shouldst know the ballad well! If thou desirest not a worse ending, a.s.sist me now to save my father, and then I bid thee farewell for ever. But if thou shouldst act treacherously now, my trusty countrymen shall bind and carry thee to the King of Denmark."

"Be still, dearest Kirstine! I will do as thou desirest," whispered Rane, as he cast a fearful glance towards the st.u.r.dy boatmen, who appeared to be as faithful and vigilant a body-guard to their lady, as was the hound to the faithless knight.

The vessel soon lay to at a remote part of the fiord, where Rane and his wife landed, and proceeded in silence to the town. The hound followed; and, at a little distance behind, by a signal from Kirstine, the two st.u.r.dy boatmen.

They pa.s.sed thus through the streets of Roskild, until they reached the prison-tower of Haraldsborg, near which a crowd was collected, listening to an old crone singing street-ballads. She was seated on a stone, and, although apparently blind, carried a lantern in her hand, while on her arm hung a tin-box, on which she accompanied her song, and into which her hearers now and then dropped a piece of money. The moon, which had now risen, shone brightly on the tower and on the people, who apparently had gathered there to catch a glimpse of the famous prisoner, and to amuse themselves with the gossip of the town.

"Saw you the drost?" asked a soldier: "such a carl!"

"Ah, Heaven help us!" exclaimed a burgher; "he is under bolt and bar at Nordborg; and, until he is free, we shall have neither peace nor luck in the land."

"Meanest thou Drost Hessel?" replied the soldier. "Ay, he truly was a brave gentleman; but 'twas the new drost I spoke of--he with the long beard: he's a tough carl, and, while he advises, neither rogues nor traitors shall long be safe in Denmark."

"How long stays he here?" asked the burgher.

"Only till the fleet is ready, and the landfolk a.s.sembled," answered the other. "The king then comes from Helsingborg, and we shall at the duke."

"Bravo! Drost Thorstenson is no fool!" cried a seaman: "he well knows there is no road to land except by sea."

"How so, friend?" asked a landsknecht: "was it not on land we got the holy banner, without which there is no road, either by sea or sh.o.r.e?

Now, however, we go together; but if the Nors.e.m.e.n should land again, without leave, where were we without the landsmen then?"

"Well, my countryman," replied the seaman, "we will drink to good fellowship both on sea and land. You laid by the heels that sea-bear in the tower, where he shall no longer plunder and burn our sloops. Sing us the ballad anent the corbie in the tower there, carlin!" he cried, turning to the crone, "and thou shalt have a silver groat."

"How long will they allow him to remain there, and befool both bailiff and hangman?" inquired a burgher.

"Have you not seen the wheel outside the town?" replied the seaman: "he'll be safe anch.o.r.ed there in a week hence, for Drost David has sworn it. He was, to give the devil his due, a daring sea-c.o.c.k; but two such rievers as the marsk and he would soon have sunk the country."

"Say you the algrev will be executed in a week hence?" exclaimed a young girl. "Alas, it is still a sad end for such a rich and distinguished gentleman!"

"Come, carlin, sing now!" cried the seaman: "here's my groat. Look!

there he is, poking his head out of the hole. He wants to see if there be any good friends here to help him."

"Merciful Heavens! within a week. Heardst thou that, Rane?" exclaimed Kirstine, weeping, and involuntarily grasping the arm of her hated husband. "And, see, there he stands looking down to us. Haste thee, Rane, and save him! I will forgive thee all, and remain with thee, outlaw though thou be--only save him! save him! Thou canst if thou wilt."

"Be silent, or, by Satan, thou wilt betray me with thy whimpering!"

quickly whispered Rane, as he looked anxiously around him.

And his fears were not unfounded, for some of the townspeople had already been suspiciously watching the two strange figures; although now the attention of all was attracted to the blind crone on the kerb-stone, who began to sing:--

"Sir Alf was born in Norraway, Yet lists not there to bide, Though fifteen lordships he doth own, To keep his state and pride.[44]

"Alf wends upon the rampart green, And cons with care his book; There meets him Bendit Rimaardson, Who is so dour of look.

"'What brings thee here, carl Mindre-Alf?

Thou art of courage rare: If now thou'rt made king's prisoner, The land no worse shall fare.'

"'But I am not Sir Mindre-Alf-- That is no name of mine: A ma.s.s-boy, as thou seest, I am, And fetch the priest some wine.'

"Bent lifted off this ma.s.s-boy's cap, And looked him in the een-- 'An I see right, thou art the Norse Sir Mindre-Alf, I ween.'

"'And thou wert once a clerk with me, I knew thee well at school, And thou mayst not deny, that oft Thou wrought'st us pain and dool.'

"'An be it thou, Bent Rimaardson, And thou be kinsman true, An oath, I wiss, thou'lt swear to-day, That me thou never knew.'

"But now they've ta'en Jarl Mindre-Alf, His feet in fetters bound--"

"Away!" shouted the landsknecht who guarded the prison-tower: "finish your screaming, carlin, and draw not the whole town hither; for whoever comes three steps nearer the keep, will a.s.suredly have a lance run through his body."

The crowd drew back, and, with them, Rane, dragging along his wife, who still clung to his arm, a.s.sailing him with urgent entreaties to redeem his promise and save her father.

"Nay, it cannot be done!" exclaimed Rane, in an under tone: "I know well he has sworn my death and destruction, and now let him help himself!"

So saying, he attempted to shake off his wife, but she held him tightly. He then pulled his cap over his eyes to avoid being recognised; for, with increased terror, he now observed near him some of the late king's servants, whom he had been the means of disgracing at court.

"Leave me, woman!" he whispered "thou hast betrayed me--I am discovered!"

A growing murmur arose among the crowd, and the cry of "Rane, the outlawed chamberlain!" ran from mouth to mouth.

"Thou desirest, then, to cause my death, obstinate woman!" exclaimed Rane, with subdued vehemence; while, with a violent effort, he succeeded in freeing himself, and immediately took to flight.

"Seize him--seize him!" shouted the crowd: "it is Rane, the outlawed chamberlain! Seize the traitor!" And he was followed with loud cries by the enraged populace, who threatened to tear him in pieces. His hound, however, by furiously attacking his pursuers, several of whom he bit and frightened, enabled Rane to escape, both master and dog having suddenly disappeared in the vicinity of the Grayfriars' Convent; whilst Kirstine, amidst the confusion, was fortunately extricated from the crowd by her faithful boatmen.

Rane remained undiscovered for some days, during which, as it was known that he had many relatives among the grayfriars, the convent was strictly searched by Drost Thorstenson's orders, but no trace was found of the dangerous fugitive.

In a narrow street, and under a wooden shed that projected from the convent-wall, was a well, out of which a large, ferocious-looking dog had been observed to leap, by a girl who went there one morning early to draw water. She related the circ.u.mstance to her neighbours, who, from the description, inferred that it was the hound of the outlawed Rane. The authorities were forthwith apprised of the circ.u.mstance, and the well was examined; when, in it, and against the convent-wall, was found a ledge, which was reached with some difficulty. Here was discovered a strongly-barred door, which was soon broken open, and revealed a low narrow pa.s.sage, leading to a dark and noisome hole between the double convent-walls. The first who ventured into this mysterious hiding-place was furiously attacked by the dog, which, however, after a desperate encounter, was at last overpowered and killed. By the aid of their lanterns, they then carefully searched the hole, but no trace of a human being was perceptible.

In one damp corner, swarming with toads and lizards, lay a heap of stones and gravel, into which, before leaving the spot, one of the soldiers accidentally thrust his lance. This action was followed by a smothered cry of pain: the gravel-heap was then speedily removed, and a sad and miserable spectacle exposed. Close in the corner, and huddled quite together, lay the outlaw Rane, so disfigured by mire and blood that he scarcely resembled a human creature. He sprang up, apparently irresolute whether to fight or fly, and was instantly seized and conducted to Haraldsborg, where the stern Drost Thorstenson, without further form or delay, sentenced him to death, in the king's name.

Three days after the capture of Rane, the new Dean of Roskild was returning, late in the evening, from a farmhouse in the neighbourhood, where he had been administering the last rites of the Church. Two young choristers rode before him, carrying torches; and the holy pix and anointing-cruse; under a screen, were borne by a couple of lay brothers. Their way lay by the place of execution, which was in a waste field outside of Roskild, and where the algrev and Rane had suffered the same morning. When the boys reached this spot, they became alarmed.

"Sir dean," said one of them, "it is not well to come this way."

"Proceed, children, in G.o.d's name!" answered the dean. "They cease now from troubling; and, with the Holiest in the midst of us, we need fear nothing."

The lads obeyed in silence; but, after advancing a few steps,

"See, see!" cried the younger of them--"there is something stirring up yonder."

"And look!" added the other, "now there is a light--candles are burning by the dead men."