“Use your freedom, young man, while you may. But tell me who you are. I would like, Ordener, to know you by some other name. The son of one of my mortal foes is called Ordener.”
“Perhaps, my lord Count, this mortal foe feels greater kindness for you than you for him.”
“You evade my question; but keep your secret. I might learn that the fruit which quenches my thirst is a poison which will destroy me.”
“Count!” cried Ordener, angrily; “Count!” he repeated, in tones of pity and reproach.
“Why should I trust you,” replied Schumacker,—“you who to my very face defend the merciless Guldenlew?”
“The viceroy,” gravely interrupted the young man, “has just ordered that for the future you shall be free and unguarded within the entire precinct of the Lion of Schleswig keep. This news I learned at Bergen, and you will doubtless soon hear it from headquarters.”
“This is a favor for which I dared not hope, and I thought you were the only person to whom I had mentioned my wish. So they lessen the weight of my chains as that of my years increases; and when old age renders me helpless, they will probably tell me, ‘You are free.’”
So saying, the old man smiled bitterly, and added: “And you, young man, do you still cling to your foolish ideas of independence?”
“If I had not those same foolish ideas, I should not be here.”
“How did you come to Throndhjem?”