"Under pretence of a rising against the duke himself, wherein it was believed the people would take part, the queen and the young king were to be seized during the confusion. We compelled the captive highwayman to report that you were in good keeping at Nordborg, and for that lie he had his freedom yesterday. Whilst the royal prisoners, with the algrev's assistance, were carried to Tönsberg, the duke with his army was to proceed to Viborg, and, in order to save the country, was to suffer himself, from sheer necessity, to be hailed as king. He was, as you have seen, prepared to prove, by a public document, that he was in Sleswick during the tumult on the 28th of May; so that the cunning gentleman could wash his hands of what had then happened. In the meantime, as I expected, he found out the stroke I made in the reckoning; and he must have ridden neck or nothing from Sleswick to be here to-night."
"Come, Count Gerhard," exclaimed Drost Peter, startled, "this is a matter for the closet. I turn giddy at the mere thought of it. If you can adduce me clear proofs of this monstrous treachery, he shall be overthrown, even if it costs me my own life."
Drost Peter hastily withdrew his guest into his closet, where he noted down every word spoken by the count, and every circumstance that could throw light on the truth of his narrative. The jester was also examined, and his statement duly recorded. Count Gerhard set his seal to the depositions, and further bound himself, by his oath and his good sword, to make good what might be deficient in formal testimony. With the utmost gravity of countenance, the jester likewise set his seal to the document with a button of his squire's jacket.
Next morning betimes, before the Dane-court commenced, Drost Peter had a private conversation with Sir John; but almost as early, the duke was with the Margraves of Brandenburg and the queen.
On this last and most important day of the Dane-court, the business, as usual, would be transacted in the open air, in sight of the people, in the area before the palace. It was the third day in Whitsun-week, and the finest spring weather favoured the solemnities with which the young king would, at the same time, be hailed by his Funen subjects. Everything was prepared with the utmost magnificence. On each side of the throne, which the young king would occupy, was a splendid seat, both of nearly the same elevation, provided for the queen and Duke Waldemar. Scarlet cloth was spread on the ground, and two semi-circles of chairs were placed for the princes and knights, as well as for the bishops and prelates; but in the middle of the circle stood a round table, covered with black cloth, with three and thirty chairs around it, which, however, seemed to occupy but a small portion of the large space. This unusual spectacle gave rise to many doubtful observations among the people. From an early hour in the morning, an unusually large number of burghers and peasants were assembled on the site of the Dane-court, and an anxious silence prevailed.
The knights and ecclesiastics afterward assembled, among the latter of whom were the worthy dean, Master Jens Grand, and the Archbishop of Lund, John Dros, together with the bishops of the entire kingdom.
The eyes of all were now directed to the great doors of the palace, from which the royal party was every minute expected to proceed. They were at length thrown open, and two heralds, with lofty plumes in their helmets, and bearing white rods, appeared, heading the procession, as on the occasion of a tournament; although the mourning-dresses imparted to the whole more the appearance of a funeral train. The youthful king walked gravely and firmly by the side of his stately mother, and was followed by Prince Christopher, with the duke and the queen's brothers.
Count Gerhard had unexpectedly placed himself in the princely train. Nor had he come alone; for he was accompanied by his two brothers, the young Counts of Holstein, and the wise and brave Prince Witzlau of Rygen, his private friend, and a loyal vassal of the Danish crown. These noblemen had just been presented to the king; but Count Gerhard, having had no opportunity of approaching the queen, was forced to salute her from a distance.
At the head of the twelve councillors came old Sir John, the Chancellor Martinus, and Drost Peter. No trace of anxiety was visible on the countenance of the aged statesman. Master Martinus also appeared calm; but his head was bowed, and his hands folded within the ample sleeves of his Dominican habit, as if he were engaged in secret prayer. Drost Peter strove in vain entirely to conceal the contest of feelings that divided his soul: his wounded arm rested in a sling; and under his other, concealed beneath his sable knight's mantle, he carried a bundle of documents. When he perceived the proud, triumphant glance of the duke, his eyes flashed indignation; but he had promised Sir John to control his feelings, and he was himself fully alive to the necessity which existed for dissimulation. A bitter smile, however, played for a moment on his lips, as it occurred to him that he might then, perhaps, with a joyous face, be following the freedom and happiness of his country to their grave.
The royal squires, who, after the marsk, under-marsk, and knights, closed the procession, were headed by the favourite of the youthful king, Aagé Jonsen, who, since the catastrophe at the barn of Finnerup, had become singularly quiet and serious. Drost Peter, his own and young Erik's weapon-master, was his model of chivalry, and already he wore, with almost the dignity of a knight, the squire's sword and silver spurs with which his young king had presented him.