It was so dark that he could not see his own hand before his eyes. In order not to awaken suspicion by his bold enterprise he had taken off his sword in the corpse-chamber, and was entirely defenceless. In his childhood, Aagé had not been wholly free from the dread of supernatural beings; and, according to the creed of the age, the idea of the influence of a mighty world of spirits on human life was closely connected with religious belief. Aagé nowise doubted the possibility of the appearance of evil as well as of good spirits; but this idea never disquieted him in open day, when he knew he was on a lawful errand, and had his sword with its cross-hilt at his side. "Is it honourable and chivalrous to steal along thus?" he said to himself. "Why took I not my good sword with me? It was hard, though, to take the light from him above there--he lies now in the pains of hell on yonder bench, and curses me;--or hath he got loose, and is he lurking after me in the dark?" He now thought he heard again distinctly, at every stride he took, the same sound, as of stealthy footsteps behind him; but each time he turned round all was still as before. This consciousness of the presence of an unknown being in the dark passage put him into a state of fearful apprehension, and recalled those images of horror to his imagination, which he felt himself least able to combat. "Is he now dead above there?--is it his maniac spirit which persecutes thee?" he whispered to himself; and the form of the frantic murderer appeared to his imagination far more terrific than when he beheld it actually stretched on the corpse-bench; "or is it thou, old Pallé!" he exclaimed, almost with an outcry of terror. The scene of the murder in Finnerup barn, which had haunted him in his childhood, and the image of the aged and insane regicide he had himself slain on the body of the murdered king, were again vividly present to his imagination. His hair stood on end; it seemed to him as if he was now actually about to fight with demons and evil spirits in the dark pit of the grave,--a fancy which had often disquieted him in dreams, and which lately had been the dominant plague of his fevered imagination. At last his terror increased to such a degree that he could no longer control it; he turned suddenly round, and rushed with all his might with clenched hands towards the place where he again thought he distinguished the stealthy footsteps. He then distinctly heard a clanking sword strike against the wall close beside his ear. "Ha! a human being after all! Wretched murderer! is it thou?" he shouted, quite recovering his courage at the discovery of a real and bodily pursuer, and sprang forward towards the unseen deadly foe, while he struck aside the sword, which seemed to be wielded by a left and powerless arm. The sword flew clanging forward in the dark passage; but at the same moment Aagé felt his neck clutched almost to suffocation by a pair of convulsively strained arms, dripping wet.
"Ha! ha! have I pounced on thee at last, hell-hound?" suddenly roared a wild rough voice in his ear, and Aagé recognised the tones of the wounded robber. "I have long enough lain a corpse--now thou mayst take my place, comrade!" This terrific voice presently rose into the howl of a wild beast, and Aagé felt the madman's tusks in his forehead; he struck desperately around him, and strove with all his might to free himself from the suffocating grasp of the monster, but in vain; and he was long compelled to combat and wrestle with him ere he succeeded in throwing him to the ground, and was even then still forced to struggle with the robber, whose howls were growing weaker and weaker, without, however, being able to free his neck from his convulsive grasp. At last the clutching arms loosened from round his neck, and his frantic adversary lay silent and apparently dead, or in a swoon, under his knee.
"The Lord have mercy on his sinful soul," sighed Aagé, rising half breathless. His opponent now made a sudden movement as if to rise, but fell back, with a rattling in his throat; and Aagé perceived, for the first time, that he was in all probability wading in the blood of the wounded murderer. He hastened on with rapid strides. Once or twice he stopped out of breath, and fancied he again heard the murderer stealing after him. At last he hit against something hard, and discovered by feeling that it was a large door of metal. He shook it with all his might, but it appeared to be locked on the other side, and immoveable. He thundered at it with his iron-shod heels, and each stroke rung hollow through the vault. After the lapse of some time a little shutter opened in the door, and the light of a dark lantern, and a swarthy warrior-like visage, appeared. "Who is there? and from whom?" asked the man-at-arms.
"No one, from no one," answered Aagé, suddenly calling to mind the mysterious expression in the private letter.
"Right! thou knowest the watchword," was the answer; "and one only?--without arms?"
"As thou seest--but open quick!--there is no time to lose."
"Come, give time! The guard must first know of it." The shutter closed again, and Aagé heard the sound of a horn, which was answered at some distance: soon after the iron door opened, and a strong-built steel-clad warrior stepped out and advanced towards him into the passage, with a light in the one hand and a drawn sword in the other. He eyed the disguised Drost from head to foot, by the light of the lantern, and started back a couple of paces. "Faugh! how thou look'st, thou bloodhound!" he said, with disgust. "'Tis hard for an honest fellow to let such guests in, when the king himself must stand without."
"I have had a hard joust on the road, brave countryman." said Aagé; "but haste thee!"
"Come, come; give time, thou scoundrel! The bandage over thy eyes first."
"What! bandage! and foul words to me!"