"I choose you for my knight and protector, brave Count Gerhard," replied the queen, in a cordial tone; "and, as a pledge, accept this remembrance of my bereaved and sorrowful position by the throne of Denmark."
As she spoke, she untied her black veil, which she handed to him; whilst he, kneeling in knightly fashion, pressed the pledge of confidence to his lips, and then concealed it in his bosom.
"My colour was formerly crimson," added the queen, in a sorrowful accent, as she looked mildly towards Drost Peter. "This faithful friend to the royal house once wore it, as you doubtless remember; but no good fortune attended it. It was, moreover, borrowed, and, in truth, did not become me. I then determined that no man should wear it with my consent. The colour of night and disappointment has now become mine, as it has become that of Denmark. If its sight inspires you not with pain, Count Gerhard, as mine and the country's faithful friend wear it until morning again breaks on Denmark."
Count Gerhard, who had again risen, felt more intoxicated with joy than he had ever been before.
"As long as God permits me to live in this fair world," he exclaimed, while a tear glistened in his eye, "so long at least, noble queen, I will think only of showing myself worthy of your confidence, and of being, from my heart's core, a faithful friend to your grace and to the Danish kingdom. For your sake, so I promised long ago to this your brave knight;" adding, as he seized the hand of Drost Peter--"he still wears the rosy red in secret; but now I fight not with him concerning it, for I know it is Lady Ingé's gage and hairband."
A blush suffused the cheeks of Drost Peter, and the queen also seemed perplexed by the indiscreetness of the plain-spoken count.
"True--this is another matter," hastily added the latter, as he observed the embarrassment he had caused: "it was perhaps a secret, respecting which I should have been silent; but this is what I would say, most noble queen, that, next to myself, you have not a more sincere admirer in the world than is Drost Hessel. We two shall now contend in earnest for the privilege of permanently wearing your colour. It imports not to me whether it is black or red, since it is your's; but this I know, that if there exists in the world one who can restore to your mind that joy and happiness you were surely born to possess, I would gladly give my only remaining eye to be that one; and then, although I could never more see your fair face and lovely form, I should still feel happy in knowing that you were pleased with the blind Count Gerhard."
The cordial sincerity with which he uttered these words, caused the queen and Drost Peter to overlook their want of delicacy and propriety. It was evident, however, from the manner of the queen, that she desired to terminate this extraordinary visit, and the direction the conversation had taken. Young Erik, too, who had been listening attentively, seemed to think that the count's speech had nothing to do with the dangerous business that had brought them thither.
"Let this subject be ended, Count Gerhard!" he exclaimed, impatiently. "My mother will be happy enough again when we have taken measures against the faithlessness of the duke, and restored the kingdom to security. We shall not set out to-morrow for Viborg: his traitor-army is there encamped, you say. If I am to be King of Denmark, I will be anointed and crowned forthwith. If it is the will of Providence that I should be betrayed and murdered, as my father and grandfather were, I shall die a lawful king, and it shall not be well for the traitors who dare to lay hands upon the Lord's anointed, young as he may be."
"Thy will shall be done, my son," replied the queen, patting his glowing cheeks. "Thy wish was also Sir John's, and that of the whole council, before, in my blindness, I mistook the smooth words of the duke for sincere attachment. To-morrow we shall set out, not for Viborg, but for Skielskioer; and, when thou art proclaimed in Zealand, we shall proceed to the coronation at Lund. But let me advise. The duke, as my most courteous knight, shall accompany us. He must not perceive the slightest symptom of distrust on our part. To you, gentlemen, I confide our security on the way."