CHAP. IX.
In the castle-yard, before the knights' hall, stood a crowd of curiousgrooms and kitchen maids, to hear the singing, and gaze at the king andthe stranger-guests. Amid this gossiping and jesting throng, wandered afat, silent personage, closely muffled in a cloak. The maidens crowdedtogether, and giggled whenever he came near them, and the one joked theother about him as a well-known wooer of the whole fair sex. It was thegenerally self-satisfied and obsequious Sir Palle, who now howeverlooked most solemn and thoughtful. He had here for some time listenedto the jests of the maidens and their talkative admiration of theking's handsome presence and his splendour, and of all the pomp theybeheld. This seemed however but little to amuse him to-night; he yawnedwith a sigh, and went with undecided steps towards the maidens' tower;he now heard the sound of a lute in that part of the square, where fella partial shadow, and the cold wind whistled in eddies around thepillars of the tower. He paused, and listened attentively; the soundscontinued, and he thought he discerned a dark form standing under thetower window. He drew nearer with curiosity, and distinctly beheld aman with a knight's helmet, around whose person fluttered an amplemantle; while he gazed up at the grated window, and occasionally struckthe cords of a lute with wild earnestness. Palle leaned back in alarmagainst the wall, and thought he had recognised the mysterious guest ofthe forest monastery. The cold perspiration broke out on his forehead;but his curiosity overcame his fright, and he remained standing. Heheard a whisper, which was answered from above, and a deep but lowvoice, now sung beneath:
"Oh list then, Agnete, thus sue I to thee![5] Wilt thou be moved my true love to be? Ho! ho! ho! Wilt thou be moved my true love to be, To morrow they lead here the dance so free?"
The deep voice ceased; the little window rattled behind the grating,and a sweet female voice sang from above--
"Oh yes, by my troth, that will I indeed, O'er the sea so blue if thou'lt bear me with speed-- Ha! ha! ha! O'er the sea so blue if thou'lt bear me with speed, But not to its depths will I dive with thee, Then to-morrow we'll lead the dance so free."
"Ha! Gundelille's voice, Ulrica Stig!" muttered Palle; "ay, indeed, alove adventure then! and yonder outlawed hound on _my_ preserve. Thisshall soon be put a stop to!" In his jealous eagerness he plucked upcourage, and first stole a good way back from the tower; he then wentbriskly forward again, and growled forth a song, while he tramped hard,letting his long sword clatter after him on the stone pavement; but hehad hardly swaggered ten paces from the tower ere the disguised figurerushed past him like lightning and threw him on the ground; he felt atthe same time a stab in his right side. "Murder! help!" gasped Palle,in a low voice. He dared not cry aloud and give the alarm lest theterrible fugitive should return and despatch him at once. "Alas! poorunoffending fellow I that am!" he moaned, "when I carry my head highestI even get run through the body. Those accursed women! they are onlycreated to be my ruin--" He hasted to get upon his legs, and ran as hardas he could over the dusky part of the court-yard to his chamber in theknights' story, where in all secresy he had his wound examined andbound up. His ample mantle had parried the thrust, and the wound seemedtrifling; but it pained him exceedingly, and the fright had sooverpowered him that he was compelled to retire to his couch. To themany inquisitive questions put to him as to who it was that had woundedhim, he dared not answer a word; and the more he thought of hismysterious rival the more alarmed he became. "The Drost!--send for theDrost!" he at last exclaimed in a low tone. "It is a state secret; noother may know it." Nobody attended much to this expression, which wasregarded merely as one of his customary boasts of a knowledge of stateaffairs and secrets which it was known would never be entrusted to him.At last, however, his attendants were forced to humour him, and sent amessenger to summon the Drost.
Meanwhile the Lady Ulrica stood alone, and listened at the littlegrated window in in the maidens' tower. On a work-table in the chamberstood a lamp, and a handsome fisher-maiden's costume, trimmed withpearls and silk ribbon, lay upon it. A sweet female voice was heardsinging in the adjoining apartment; here sat her sister, the meekMargaretha, before the lamp, occupied in embroidering a large piece oftapestry for an altar-cloth. The edge or border consisted of skilfullyworked foliage, with figures and scenes taken from life. There spranghart and hind--here danced ladies and knights in miniature; but withinthe border hung the Saviour on the cross, and the Virgin Mary stoodwith St. John and St. Magdalen at the foot of the cross as MaterDolorosa, represented as usual with a sword through the bosom. In theforeground knelt a knight in black armour, with his consort and twolittle maidens in mourning attire. In these figures she had pourtrayedher father, the mighty Marsk Stig, and her proud and unhappy motherIngeborg, together with herself and her sister, as children. WhileMargaretha sat diligently occupied in this employment, and sang theballad of Hagbarth and Signe, she noticed not what her capricioussister was about.[6]
The distant sound of the festive din at the castle occasionally reachedthe lonely prison of the captive maidens; when this happened, Ulricaalways became impatient, and wept at the thought of her exclusion fromthese festivities, and Margaretha found it a hard task to comfort her.Each time the sprightly little Karen came to supply their wants, Ulricaeagerly and inquisitively questioned her of all that passed, and themaiden was forced to give a description of all the stranger guests andknights. It was only when Margaretha heard Drost Aage's name, andKaren's account of what she knew of his dangerous adventure atKallundborg, that she forgot her work, her hands dropped into her lap,and she listened with attentive interest. What their attendant relatedof the king, of his condescension towards the lowest, and his juststrictness towards the great and mighty, she also heard with a speciesof interest, although not without a melancholy and sometimes bittersmile when she thought of her own fate; but when Ulrica would beinformed of the looks of each of the stranger knights, of the colour oftheir hair, beard, and clothes--how they sat at table, and with whatthey were served, Margaretha was near losing patience; she thereforewas very glad when Ulrica, as now, took a fancy to shut herself up inthe little tiring chamber, there to busy herself with her gay apparel,and gossip with their attendant Karen. Since the maiden had on themorning of this day mentioned the tournament which was in preparation,and the dance and masque which it was hoped would take place the nextevening, Ulrica had become joyous again. When she was not whisperingand gossiping with Karen, she sang quite gaily in the little tiringchamber to which she had taken a special fancy.
Ulrica had shut herself up this evening in her favourite retreat. Shewas again busied with her gay attire, and was humming a merry balladabout Carl of Rise and Lady Rigmor; but she now heard her sister'ssweet melancholy song as she sat at her pious occupation, and the tearssuddenly started to the eyes of the easily excited Ulrica; she rose inhaste, as if scared by her own thoughts, and threw her decorations onthe floor. She opened the door, and flew to embrace her meek sisterwith eager emotion.
"What is this, Ulrica? What ails thee, dearest sister?" askedMargaretha, with sympathising uneasiness, as she returned her ardentdemonstrations of affection.
"Ah! I grew all on a sudden so anxious and sad," said Ulrica. "Thy songwas so sweet and sorrowful, just like a lonely forsaken bird's in itscage, and I thought how it would be if thou wert left _quite_ alone inthis horrid tower, with no one whatever to care for thee and comfortthee as thou hast comforted me and spoken kindly to me every day."
"Thou art still with me, dear Ulrica, and truly I sit here with acheerful heart at my precious tapestry. When the Lord wills it ourprison doors will assuredly open for us, and ere that time we need notexpect it. We will, however, never sorrow as those who have no hope."
"That is true indeed," said Ulrica, half offended, and wiping her eyes."When thou canst but embroider and tell thy rosary, and the adventuresof courteous knights, or sing the Drost's ballads, thou carest b
utlittle for the whole fair world without; but _I_ can endure this lifeno longer: when I hear the sea dashing below at night I often wish thata merman would come and carry me off like Agnete. I would almost ratherbe at the bottom of the sea than in this wearisome prison-hole."
"Never make such foolish and ungodly wishes, dear sister," answeredMargaretha, half alarmed, and involuntarily crossing herself. "It isbetter, however, to be in prison and innocent than at liberty andguilty, rememberest thou not what stands in holy writ about St. Peterin prison, and what he said?"
"I know all that well enough," interrupted Ulrica, pettishly; "but,nevertheless, there came an angel and took him out."
"If the Lord and our Lady will it so, such an angel might be sent to usalso," continued Margaretha. "It needs but an angel's thought in akindly soul. I, too, should rejoice to see God's fair world again, whenthat might be with honour and without sin--but thou wert speaking ofmermen[7] and evil spirits, and I heard before how wildly thou sang'st;it sounded to me like Agnete's answer to the merman--as though thouwert an unhappy deluded maiden like her. Ah, sweet sister! I know toowell who thou art thinking of; but beware of him! he is assuredly justas false as the ocean foam, and as the hapless Agnete's bridegroom."
"I require not he should be one hair better," answered Ulrica, eagerly."Truly it was that foolish fickle Agnete, and not her bridegroom, whowas false and faithless. She broke her vow, and left her wedded husbandand her little children, and would not return to them, however much hebesought her--such goodness and piety _I_ cannot understand; no, truly,_he_ was far more good and honourable! I ever pitied him, poor wretch!So _very_ frightful, either, he could not have been," she continued;"he had fair hair and sparkling eyes like Sir Kagge. Just listen!" andshe sang--
"His hair was as the pure gold bright, His eyes they sparkled with joyous light."
"But it surely was no good sign," observed Margaretha, "when he enteredinto the church, and all the holy images turned to the wall. Alas,dearest sister, I could never look at Sir Kagge's small sparklingsnake-like eye, but it seemed as though all pious and godly images fledfrom my soul."
"Ah, thou art so unreasonable," exclaimed Ulrica impetuously; "soterribly unreasonable, that it is impossible longer to bear with thee.I shall run from thee as soon as I can,--that I tell thee beforehand;but then," she added half sadly--"ah, then thou must not weep and mournfor me, Margaretha! Wilt thou promise me that? or--wilt thou come too?"
"What art thou thinking of, poor dear child! art thou ever dreaming offlight, and yet canst not find in thy heart to leave me? Make up thymind to be patient, sweet Ulrica! After all, we _cannot_ escape, and I_would not_ if we could. With all his severity, the king is still goodand just, every one here says so; he will surely one day come to knowwe are innocent, and will let us wander free out of his kingdom; thatis the utmost we can hope for, after what hath happened; and this hopeI do not give up."
"The king!" resumed Ulrica with vehemence, and with a proud toss of thehead; "truly the king is a revengeful, an obstinate, and unjust tyrant.I would tell him so to his face, even were I certain he were my realbrother, as people say; but he should beware," she continued, with alook of defiance, "it is neither chivalrous nor kingly, to keep ladiesand noble knights' daughters, perhaps even a king's daughter, inprison. I know however of _one_ knight in the world who hath courage toavenge us, and free me from this degradation."
"You terrify me, dear bewildered child! Art thou dreaming again of thatfearful greatness, and thinking of ungodly revenge! This comes not ofthyself--That dreadful Kagge can surely never be here again?"
"If he _were_ here, should I tell it to thee, that thou in thyconscientiousness might betray it to the zealous Sir Drost, and that Imight see my only friend on the wheel to-morrow?--thus far extends notour sisterhood. A little while ago, I cared for thee, with my wholeheart," she continued, in a voice of lamentation, "but _now_ I cannotabide thee; thou dost hate and despise the only human being that caresfor me, and thou mightest almost make me fear him did I not know himbetter--this is not good of thee, Margaretha." She burst into a floodof tears, held both her hands before her eyes, and pushed away hersorrowing and sympathising sister, with her pretty elbows.
"Weep not, be not naughty and wroth, dearest Ulrica," entreatedMargaretha. "I hate no living soul in the world. Perhaps even Kagge maybe better than I think; but if he is here and thou canst send a messageto him, then for heaven's sake, beseech him to fly, and not plot moremischief."
"No, no!" said Ulrica, impatiently, and stamping with her little feet,without, however, taking her hands from her eyes. "Who says he is here?Would he _were_ here, and was going to help me hence! If I were oncegone, thou wouldst miss me though, Margaretha! Then thou wouldst ruehaving made me so naughty and wroth and untoward to-night. Now thoumayst sit down at thine ease, and think how thou wilt be able to makeme good again--I am going to my couch without even kissing thee, andbidding thee good night," so saying, she ran to her couch, sprang intoit with her clothes and shoes on, and drew up the down quilt quite overher head.
Margaretha seated herself on the side of the couch, and spoke gentlyand soothingly to her. She would have taken the thick down quilt fromher face, but the little self-willed maiden held it fast with bothhands, and appeared to be strongly convulsed under it. Margarethabecame alarmed and feared she was ill; at last she was nearly weepingherself; but Ulrica presently set up a loud laugh, and sprang fromunder the quilt. "Look! now! am good again!" she said, playfully, andhopped a graceful dancing step. "Come now, Margaretha, and thou shaltsee all my finery; for I will be present at the gay dance to-morrow,that I tell thee; and if thou dost not let me slip out of the door withlittle Karen, I jump out of the window and break my neck,--then thouwilt be quit of me. Come and thou shalt see all my fine things!" sosaying, she threw her arms round her grave sister's neck, kissed herand skipped with her into the little tiring chamber.
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