'The voice of the people is not always the voice of God,' said Arwed. 'I still trust in holy justice. But I have a favor to ask of you, my father. The baron's daughter wishes to see her father. Give me the necessary permission.'
'That is not to be thought of for the present,' answered the father. 'Perhaps it may be obtained a little later, after the sentence has been pronounced. Besides I am not the person who has power to grant it. Upon such a request the president of the special commission, landmarshal Ribbing, must decide.'
'Alas, that heart of stone!' cried Arwed. 'Give me at least a letter of introduction to him, that he may do from favor what is only a duty.'
'I can have nothing to do with the affair,' said the father angrily. 'You presume upon my forbearance.'
He pointed towards the door. Arwed wished to speak to him yet once again, but the counsellor, turning his back upon him, walked to his writing-table and the son in sadness departed.
CHAPTER XVIII.
Every effort to move, to win, to alarm, which the eloquence of the soul could inspire, had Arwed lavished upon landmarshal Ribbing. But powerless as the waves against the rocks, were his words with the immovable man; and, with anger at the refusal rankling at his heart, the young man now stood in the high arched basement story of the council house upon the Suedermalm, where Goertz was held in confinement, seeking, with his open purse in his hand, and not without secret reluctance, to try the effect of gross corruption upon the gaoler.
But the gaoler shook his head suspiciously. 'God knows,' said he, clinking the keys attached to his waist-belt, 'God knows how willingly I would take your gold. But one must have discretion, captain, and use the little judgment God has given him. Your purse would be very useful to me, but my head is still more so, and it is that which I should peril. Therefore have the goodness to retire, that I may not suffer inconvenience from being seen talking to you here.' With this he opened a little wicket by the side of the great gate, and pointing the way out, made at the same time a very low bow.
Arwed angrily complied with the hard necessity, and, as he now considered the rejected purse as unworthy of being returned to his pocket, he threw it to an invalid soldier who limped past him on his crutches, and was on the point of hastening away.
'Take me with you, count Gyllenstierna!' cried a low, melodious voice, behind him. He turned around, and saw a man of about forty years of age, with an intelligent, bold and honest face, in a clerical dress, who had followed him out of the house.