"Our young king is all too stern, in rejecting every petition on his behalf," sighed Aagé. "I have, however, heard a rumour, dear sir drost--whether well or ill founded, I know not--which yet may prove worthy of your investigation. It is said that Sir Lavé Little has promised his daughter's hand to the knight who procures his pardon from the king; and that you, knowing this, either cannot or will not fulfil the conditions."
Drost Peter was startled. "He barters, then, his daughter's happiness for his own freedom," he exclaimed, in a tone of contempt. "At that I am not astonished. But what says Ingé? Will she submit to be a sacrifice for her father's sins?"
"Know you not that she has so resolved?" asked Aagé anxiously; "and are you not aware that the rich Sir Thord, from Kongshelle, is here, with four ships laden with treasure, which he intends offering to the king as the ransom of Sir Lavé Little? I myself saw him but now in the riddersal, where he was waiting until the king left the dance, to confer alone with him in his closet, and--"
"Just Heaven!" exclaimed Drost Peter, "this shall not be! I will myself entreat him for Sir Lavé's freedom: he cannot--he must not refuse me!"
"Hasten, then, sir drost. Sir Thord is perhaps already with the king. Alas, I thought you knew of this, but would or could not--Haste, haste!"
Pale and agitated, the drost hurried to the riddersal, where his eye ran through the rows of dancers. The triumphant Count Gerhard, with his fair and majestic bride--the young King Berger, with Princess Mereté--and Skirmen, in his new knight's suit, with the lively Aasé Hennersdaughter, tripped gaily down the hall; while, among the ladies of the Princess Ingeborg, he quickly descried Jomfru Ingé, who sat, pale and motionless, gazing with a calm, fixed look on all before her.
The drost perceived not the king, and his eyes began to swim; but, accosting a bustling chamberlain, he asked him, falteringly--"Where is the king?"
"In his closet," was the answer.
"With whom?"
"Sir Thord, from Kongshelle."