An eagle, and he is red;
And it is borne by Holger Danske;
Who killed the giant dead."
"My master bears an eagle on his seal," he added. "Were I in his place, I would set the eagle in the shield, instead of the red bend. Do you know what I shall have on my shield, when once I am a knight? It shall be Folker Fiddler's mark. But there must be more than that: of my shield it will be hereafter sung:--
"There stands a maiden in the shield,
And a sword, and fiddle, and bow;
And it is borne by bold Skirmen,
Who will sing, not sleep, I trow."
While the young squire thus gave expression to his pleasing expectations, they had passed Vemmelöv, and were approaching Vaarby Bridge. The neighing, as of a foal, was presently heard from the copse by the river-side, and Skirmen exclaimed, with surprise--"My little norback!" In a moment he was by his master's side, and communicated to him his discovery.
Drost Peter stopped his horse. All was still. "If my squire has heard aright," said the drost, "we shall, without doubt, meet our horse-stealers here. They have probably riders with them, who will oppose our progress. If they have ascertained who we are, and the errand on which we ride, it was not imprudent of them to occupy this important post."