"Leave me, woman!" he whispered "thou hast betrayed me--I am discovered!"
A growing murmur arose among the crowd, and the cry of "Rané, the outlawed chamberlain!" ran from mouth to mouth.
"Thou desirest, then, to cause my death, obstinate woman!" exclaimed Rané, with subdued vehemence; while, with a violent effort, he succeeded in freeing himself, and immediately took to flight.
"Seize him--seize him!" shouted the crowd: "it is Rané, the outlawed chamberlain! Seize the traitor!" And he was followed with loud cries by the enraged populace, who threatened to tear him in pieces. His hound, however, by furiously attacking his pursuers, several of whom he bit and frightened, enabled Rané to escape, both master and dog having suddenly disappeared in the vicinity of the Grayfriars' Convent; whilst Kirstine, amidst the confusion, was fortunately extricated from the crowd by her faithful boatmen.
Rané remained undiscovered for some days, during which, as it was known that he had many relatives among the grayfriars, the convent was strictly searched by Drost Thorstenson's orders, but no trace was found of the dangerous fugitive.
In a narrow street, and under a wooden shed that projected from the convent-wall, was a well, out of which a large, ferocious-looking dog had been observed to leap, by a girl who went there one morning early to draw water. She related the circumstance to her neighbours, who, from the description, inferred that it was the hound of the outlawed Rané. The authorities were forthwith apprised of the circumstance, and the well was examined; when, in it, and against the convent-wall, was found a ledge, which was reached with some difficulty. Here was discovered a strongly-barred door, which was soon broken open, and revealed a low narrow passage, leading to a dark and noisome hole between the double convent-walls. The first who ventured into this mysterious hiding-place was furiously attacked by the dog, which, however, after a desperate encounter, was at last overpowered and killed. By the aid of their lanterns, they then carefully searched the hole, but no trace of a human being was perceptible.
In one damp corner, swarming with toads and lizards, lay a heap of stones and gravel, into which, before leaving the spot, one of the soldiers accidentally thrust his lance. This action was followed by a smothered cry of pain: the gravel-heap was then speedily removed, and a sad and miserable spectacle exposed. Close in the corner, and huddled quite together, lay the outlaw Rané, so disfigured by mire and blood that he scarcely resembled a human creature. He sprang up, apparently irresolute whether to fight or fly, and was instantly seized and conducted to Haraldsborg, where the stern Drost Thorstenson, without further form or delay, sentenced him to death, in the king's name.
Three days after the capture of Rané, the new Dean of Roskild was returning, late in the evening, from a farmhouse in the neighbourhood, where he had been administering the last rites of the Church. Two young choristers rode before him, carrying torches; and the holy pix and anointing-cruse; under a screen, were borne by a couple of lay brothers. Their way lay by the place of execution, which was in a waste field outside of Roskild, and where the algrev and Rané had suffered the same morning. When the boys reached this spot, they became alarmed.
"Sir dean," said one of them, "it is not well to come this way."
"Proceed, children, in God's name!" answered the dean. "They cease now from troubling; and, with the Holiest in the midst of us, we need fear nothing."