"Rosmer[[10]]," said a strange, unknown voice--"ho, ho, ho!"--and the merman now sang in a hoarse tone:
"Home came Rosmer from the sea,
To curse he did begin:
My right hand's scent it warneth me
A christian man's within."
He then once more seized the hand of the fisher-maiden, and joined in the dance. The Drost looked after him with suspicion; he thought of the outlaws, and of the dishonoured Knight Kaggé. The idea of this dangerous and audacious miscreant became so vivid in his imagination, that he seemed to recognise him in the merman, and almost in every mask. He made a signal to some halberdiers to keep an eye on the mask, and followed the king into the knights' hall. Here he also gave Count Henrik a hint of what he dreaded, and a numerous troop of halberdiers was soon stationed near the king; but neither he nor any of his guests observed that this was done with any special design. The Drost's scrutinising looks and the precautions which had been taken, did not, however, seem to have escaped all the guests. Shortly afterwards the well-known ballad of the "Merman and Agneté" was heard in the antechamber, and a dance was performed to it, in which the merman mask and the fisher-maiden were the principal performers. The merman only chimed in with the burden of the song, and repeated, in a wild, hoarse voice,
"Ho! ho! ho!
To the depths of the sea then lead her did he."
At last this masker and his partner departed: they danced out of the door, and down the great staircase into the court-yard of the castle, amid a crowd of disguised personages, who belonged to their party, and represented all kinds of sea-monsters. No one knew what had become of them: another dance began, and none concerned themselves any longer about these unsocial maskers; but the report afterwards spread among the people, that the masker was a real merman, who had carried off a maiden. Some even would have it that they had seen the glittering merman swim off with the maiden in his arms, in the clear moonlight.