Drost Peter shook hands with his warden, patted some of his house-carls on the shoulder, and nodded kindly to them all.
"Is everything in order?" he inquired. "To-morrow the king will be here."
"Came a kaiser himself here, sir," answered the warden, "you would not be ashamed of your house. Dorothy has had the waxlights placed, and the tables covered, these two months. The whole castle has been cleaned, and is as bright as are our halberds. The pantry is full of choice viands, and the cellar of prime ale and sweet wine. If the king should stay the whole winter, he will not have to lick his fingers."
"And the hunters, the hounds, and the falcons?" inquired the drost.
"They are fleet and well-trained. You shall get honour by them, sir."
"One thing more, Tygé. Is the neighbourhood secure? Are there no poachers in Kjælderriis, and no loose and suspicious people in Daugberg quarries?"
"Why should such an idea enter your thoughts, sir? Beggars and tinkers pass by here now and then: we give them bread and meat in God's name, and they touch not a rabbit in the woods, nor a feather in the hen-house. If the district were unsafe, we must have heard of it. No thief or robber may venture near Harrestrup Castle, so long as your banner hangs over the gate. Have you perceived anything, sir?"
"Not I. It was only a fancy that seized Skirmen on the road."
"What, Claus Skirmen!" exclaimed the lively warden; "when wert thou wont to have old women's fancies?"
"If you will trust me with half a score of house-carls, sir," said Skirmen, quickly and decidedly, to the drost, "I shall yet perhaps, before you go to bed, show your confident warden that I have not had old women's fancies."