"Dear pious master! what do you take me for?" answered Morten, putting on a look of astonishment. "Had I run errands for such a traitor I must have been stark mad indeed to come back again now, and let myself be hung for it. No, trust me, master, I am not so brutishly stupid. To tell you the whole clean out, I was drunk beyond all bounds that evening; whether it was St. Vitus's day or not I do not quite exactly remember, but I have had neither sense nor recollection since. I must have doubtless scoured the country round like a madman. I have now come to my senses for the first time, and found the way to Sjöborg again. Here's been fine excommunicating work between the bishop and the king. If I can be of any use to you, say the word! I could break the archbishop's neck with the greatest pleasure in life if I could thereby save king and country. If you have any doubt of my honesty, I will only just fetch my traps, and take myself off with all reverence."
"No, stay; I will believe thee, because of thy honest face, Morten," said the steward, hastily, and casting a sharp look at him, while a new and daring thought seemed to flash across his hangman's soul. "I have never needed thee more than at this very time. My new cook hath also run off. I have only one turnkey left. I must myself be every thing and every where."
"That is more than can be required of any Christian soul, master. The Devil himself can hardly take that upon him."
"Drunk and mad thou must surely have been," muttered the keeper, still looking narrowly at him. "Hum! so long a drunken fit, though, have I never heard the like of. St. Vitus's dance? Truly that is an ailment akin to madness; no man can answer for what he does in that state. Hum! since thou art come to thy senses again, Morten, I will even take thee again into service. In the day thou may'st be needed in the kitchen, and in the night--well, we can talk of that afterwards. Old Mads the turnkey is good for nothing; he hath now got his nephews to help him, and I count not on them either; and those foolish men-at-arms are afraid of being excommunicated or bewitched."
"If I can help you with the night watch that shan't stand in my way," said Morten; "whatsoever I can do to plague and anger the bishop I do with hearty good will. I would only counsel you not to set me to watch in his chamber, for if St. Vitus's dance come over me I were in a case to dance to the devil with him. It is a kind of cramp, you must know, and I might easily squeeze the life out of whomsoever I get hold of."
"Well, well, Morten; there is no need for that. Thou art now perfectly well and reasonable," muttered the keeper, with a grisly smile. "I must have some one to help me, or I shall go mad myself. One misfortune follows another. The king is a violent man, and the junker has no great weight with him. It is an easy thing to get into trouble when one has a devil to watch, and stern masters to account to. Now comes that confounded report of the vessel at Gilleleié, which plys to and fro to help the bishop to flight."
Morten turned quite pale. "Our Lady preserve us!--say they so?" he exclaimed, hastily; "then, by my troth, master, there is need of watchfulness; yet it is just as dangerous to loose as to tie a mad dog."
"It will cost me my life if he escapes, Morten. I have the king's own most gracious word for it. I never let the prison keys out of my hand. The king's people are on guard, but I dare not trust them. I carry my life in my hands. I will now depend upon thee. Come!" So saying, the agitated steward took Morten by the arm, and led him across the yard towards the kitchen. It was a fine clear winter's morning. It had frozen so hard during the last few nights that a part of Sjöborg lake was covered with tolerably hard ice. As the steward and the cook crossed the castle yard they saw all the king's huntsmen, with horses and hunting equipments, waiting before the castle stairs, and the royal car drove up. "What is agog now?" asked the steward.
"We are off with the king to the chase at Tikjob," answered one of the hunters. "The great lord from Italy wants to go to Esrom. He will surely either ride, or be borne on our shoulders."
"When come ye back?" asked the steward.