"What kind of person do you fancy him, then, noble lady?" inquired Sir Thorstenson. "I'll be bound you think him, at least, a head taller than I am, and like King Didrik of Bern, or some other of those valiant kings you sing about."
Lady Ingé looked at the tall knight with the long plaited beard. "More valiant than you appear, he needs scarcely be," she answered; "but such like I do not imagine him. At the head of a band of bold troopers, I should think you were in your place; but--excuse me, sir knight--you seem too hasty in your conduct to govern a kingdom."
Thorstenson stroked his beard. "In that you may be right, fair lady," he muttered; confirming, by his air of chagrin, the young lady's frank expression.
"Were I to compare any of you with my idea of the king," continued Lady Ingé "it would be this gentleman;" and her calm blue eyes rested searchingly on Drost Peter. He started at the compliment, which a playful smile seemed instantly to contradict. "But such a comparison might not astonish you, noble sir," she continued, "if, instead of deploring the departure of the days of the great Waldemars, you had power to bring them back again."
The guests regarded with surprise the knight's young daughter, who jested so good-humouredly; and, at the same time, with the dignity of a princess, exercised over them a secret mastery, of which she did not appear to be aware. Drost Peter's cheeks reddened; and he felt himself both attracted and repelled, in a singular manner, by the bold, composed girl. But, at her latter words, he seemed almost to forget himself and his position, in a higher and more important thought.
"The power you speak of, noble lady," he commenced, with calmness and earnestness, his large eyes sparkling with fire and energy--"that power which shall recall to a people days of departed glory, you may well miss, where it cannot be found save by a miracle. That power has no knight or hero in Denmark--that power has no monarch in this world: it must come from above, and it is not the lot of any single man to possess and exercise it. If it flashes not from many thousand eyes united, and pours not forth from every heart in Denmark, the greatest king in the universe cannot raise the fallen, nor restore to the people the lofty spirit of our ancestors."
"You may be right, noble sir," replied Lady Ingé, with an interest that gave her cheeks a deeper tinge, and her eyes an almost dazzling radiance; "but who has told you that this spirit is fled? Our king himself I know not, and he is arrogantly blamed by many; but still I know he has men by his side who boldly and bravely watch over the security of the crown and the honour of the people. Among these, I may venture to mention my own kinsman, the old Sir John: every Danish man, I know, must respect him. Were the proud marsk, at Möllerup, as loyal as he is brave, Denmark had yet perhaps an Axel Hvide, or a Count Albert. David Thorstenson, too, I have heard named among the heroes of our time; and you must certainly know, yourselves, many other names which do honour to our age."
Sir Thorstenson nodded, and felt himself highly flattered to hear his name among those of the young damsel's heroes. The adventure in which he and his friends found themselves amused him greatly, and he took a fancy to know the patriotic young lady's opinion of his comrades. "But the best you forget, fair maiden," said he, merrily. "What say you of Sir Bent Rimaardson, of Tornborg?"
"He guards our coasts like another Vetheman, they say: I and every woman in Zealand have to thank him that we need not fear the wild Norwegian algrev and the ruthless Niels Breakpeace."
Rimaardson bit his lips, and was silent in the presence of a renown that his own eyes had so recently shown him to be unmerited.