"That is just and reasonable, noble Sir," said the squire; "my fingers itch every time I see such a fellow. If they will be monks, they should not be running here and staring every maiden in the face in broad day light. They are as soon enamoured as any shaven crown--I had well nigh said--St. Antony forgive me my wicked thought! Look! here we have one again I saw ye how he twisted his eyes in his head to goggle at that pretty kitchen maid with the cabbage basket? Shall I buffet him down to the Catsound, noble Sir?"
"No, surely not, crack-brains!" answered Sir Helmer, sharply; "let us behave reasonably. Do thou stay here in the ale-house near the haven, and keep an eye on the outlaw, that he slinks not back to the vessel; if there is law and justice in the town, he 'scapes us not. Thou dost surely know him well?"
"Yes, assuredly! Kaggé with the scar; him from whom they scalded off his knightly honour on the scaffold. I should know him among a thousand scoundrels, and his black horse to boot. 'Tis a sin such a handsome beast----"
"Perhaps it was a God's Providence we came here against our will," interrupted Helmer. "The red hat from Rome wants to negotiate a treaty here betwixt the king and the run-away bishop from Hammershuus; they are now at the castle, and have got the little bishop Johan in their clutches. It will doubtless end in nothing; but comes the king hither where the Roskild bishop rules, he may chance to need both our eyes and our swords. But, what in all the world is the matter here? Look, how the people flock together!"
Sir Helmer now, for the first time, remarked a singular stir and disturbance among the inhabitants of the town; there were far greater numbers of persons in the street than were usually to be seen in the most populous towns. He went onward, still looking around in search of the outlawed fugitive; he now heard loud talk among the burghers and mechanics who passed him, and expressions of wild wrath against the Lord Bishop Johan and his ecclesiastical guests at Axelhuus. The people assembled in groups in the streets, and only dispersed, grumbling and murmuring on the appearance of a troop of men-at-arms. "The provost's people! The bishop's men!" they muttered one to another, by way of warning. "Aside! make way, comrades! as yet it is not time. Down to the old strand!"
"What means this?" said Helmer to the squire, who still followed him on the quay, alongside the ships in the harbour, staring around with surprise and curiosity. "It looks like sedition and mutiny."
"Who are ye who bear arms in the bishop's town? Know ye not the rights and town-law of Copenhagen?" said a powerful voice behind them. They turned round and saw a man who from his attire seemed to be a burgher, but who wore a kind of herald's mantle over his long coat, and held a white staff in his hand, on which were painted the arms of the Bishop of Roskild. He was accompanied by a crowd of the bishop's retainers.
"I am the king's knight and halberdier, as you see well enough," answered Helmer. "What hath your bishop and his town-law to do with me?"
"Ho! ho, my bold sir!--stick your finger in the ground, and smell where ye are! You surely come from worldly towns and castles where neither order nor discipline are kept. What's your name, Sir Halberdier?"
"Helmer Blaa," answered the knight, laying his hand on the hilt of his sword. "You have perhaps heard that name before?--or shall I teach you to know it?"