"Yet you took not the daring Marsk Stig, either dead or alive," said Count Henrik; "'tis a strange story they tell here of his disappearance."
"His death, as his life, is shrouded in darkness and mystery," observed the Swedish knight. "With us also he hath a dreaded name."
"He was a great general, though," said Count Henrik. "I would have given much to have seen him. Was he as tall as Sir Niels Brock or the Duke of Langeland?"
"He had a finer presence than either Niels Brock or Duke Longshanks, if he measured not the same length. In that point, perhaps, both you and I might have been his match; but he was a very devil of a fellow,--truly, I believe neither Germany nor Sweden could boast of one like him."
"It is true we cannot boast of so highly esteemed a regicide," said Count Henrik, in an offended tone. "I desire not to rival his fame."
"But, by all the martyrs! what is the matter now?" exclaimed the astounded Marsk; "think ye I wished for aught better in the world than to have knocked out his confounded brains? Therefore I may surely say without offence, that neither you nor Marsk Knudson have seen his match."
"For that both Count Henrik and I should thank the Lord," said the Swedish knight solemnly. "The country which gives birth to such heroes may have to pay dearly for the boast. In our country we have storms also, at times; and alas! have to deplore the devastations they cause. It is the same case here probably? I suspect that Denmark hath dearly bought this sad experience, and learnt that one daring hand can make a deeper wound in a nation's heart than a whole century can heal."
A rather embarrassed silence ensued. The king had heard the conversation which had been carried on by the party behind him, and sighed deeply.
"It was on this night, Aagé," he said, in a low voice. "For nine years have I now borne Denmark's crown, and as yet I have not fulfilled that I vowed when I saw him last."
"Whom, my liege?" asked Aagé, absently.