The knight to whom the old lord had given the signal was a tall, dark-visaged man, with a long brown beard, which fell in two locks upon his collar, and united with two large bushy and closely-curled whiskers, which half concealed a tolerably youthful, but spare and vigorous, warlike countenance. His dark eyes were full of fire, and betrayed vehemence and passion. In the counsellor's absence, he took the place of captain of the guards, and placed himself nearest the door of the king's apartments. This was Sir David Thorstenson.
Drost Peter went up to him as to an intimate friend, and extended his hand. They spoke a few words privately together. Knight Thorstenson nodded, and cast a sharp look to the door. Hereupon, Drost Peter bowed to the observant halberdiers, and left the guard-chamber with a quick step, without, however, betraying haste or uneasiness. As he proceeded, the servants and people about court stepped respectfully to one side, and regarded him with surprise and curiosity. The rumour that something unusual had happened to Drost Peter Hessel, and that the queen's powerful favourite had fallen into disgrace, had put all in commotion at the palace; and now, all the cooks, waiting-maids, and kitchen-wenches were struggling to get a sight of him as he descended the palace-stairs, with the king's large gold chain across his breast.
To be the object of the people's attention was nothing new to the young drost, and was, indeed, not displeasing to him. That he felt himself flattered thereby he could not deny, although, now and then, he saw some one whisper and smile in a fashion that would have deeply offended him, had he heard what was said concerning his supposed intimacy with the queen. But the curiosity with which he was observed bespoke, on the whole, esteem and goodwill; and his handsome, stately figure, in particular, recommended him to all the charming little waiting-maids who beheld him. At the palace-gate, he met a number of stranger knights and stately gentlemen, whom it was unusual to see abroad so early. Among them he perceived Duke Waldemar and Chamberlain Rané. They whispered together when they saw him; but he proceeded quietly forwards, and felt, with secret pride, that he met them as a conqueror. Still, he took care not to betray this feeling in his look and manner; but as he went silently and gravely past them, he saluted them coldly, yet with all courtesy. They, also, without betraying the slightest ill-feeling or unpleasant surprise, returned his salutation with equal indifference.
Squire Skirmen had awaited his master on the palace-stairs, and now followed him with undisguised joy. As Skirmen passed Rané and the duke, he could not refrain from smiling with self-satisfaction; and, making his salute, he strutted along, much taller than usual. His master observed this.
"Let us not triumph too early, my bold and trusty Skirmen," said he, earnestly. "Our enemies are still powerful; and pride goes often before a fall. I cannot entirely acquit myself on this point. We are all prone to be haughty when successful; but it is a temptation we must endeavour to contend against."
Skirmen blushed, and was silent: the air of triumph disappeared from his countenance, and, with modest resignation, he followed his master to his dwelling.
Here, Drost Peter found his wounded guest awake and merry. He examined his wound, in company with the royal surgeon, who had now arrived. The count was enjoined to keep his bed for a few days, and to remain quiet. This inactivity did not quite please Count Gerhard. He bargained with the doctor, that he might be up within eight days, to be present at the festival with which the Dane-court was to be concluded. The leech gave him hopes of this, and, on these terms, he consented to remain at rest; but it seemed to him a hard penance, that, for eight days, he must neither drink wine, nor laugh to his heart's content, to chase away the tedious hours, in company with his jester.
Drost Peter now committed him to the care of the surgeon and his house-people, requesting the count and his followers to consider themselves at home, and to excuse his absence on the necessary duties of his office. Thereupon, he hastened to Sir John's residence, where the old counsellor shortly after arrived. They had an hour's private conversation on highly-important state affairs; after which they went to mass together, in Our Lady's Kirk, where the whole court was present, and where Sir John's wife, Lady Ingefried, and his daughter, Cecilia, sat on the royal seat, next to the beautiful Queen Agnes.
As Sir John and the drost entered the church, all eyes were turned to the young knight and the royal seat; and some thought they could observe a slight blush on the queen's fair cheeks, as she hastily returned the salutations of Sir John and the drost. As soon as mass was over, the knights and ecclesiastics proceeded in crowds to the long saloon of the palace, where the Dane-court was now held, instead of in the open air--an old custom, which, by degrees, fell more and more into disuse, much to the discontent of the people, because, by this means, it was sought to exclude the burghers and peasants from taking part in the proceedings of the Danish parliament.
This day, the king alone dispensed and confirmed certain gifts and privileges to churches and convents. He seemed somewhat uneasy and out of temper, and terminated the proceedings as soon as possible. Next day he appeared in better humour, and the matters before the parliament went on in their usual course, quietly, and without interruption. The precautions that had been privately taken by Sir John, David Thorstenson, and the vigilant Drost Peter, completely assured the king, and no notice was taken of the discontented vassals. They did not wish it to appear that the contest between the king and Duke Waldemar was the chief matter, although it excited expectation in the highest degree. Judgment, in this case, was reserved to the last day of the Dane-court, the 28th of May. The seven preceding days were employed in settling less important disputes between feudal lords and their tenants, and in reconciling the various differences between the temporal and spiritual lords, who frequently accused each other of violence and oppression, or of encroachments on one another's rights and liberties.