“We therefore decree, kneeling before God, that whosoever of the knights of the order shall deliver his soul to the demon by any felony or treason, after a public reprimand from the court, shall be forever degraded from his rank as a knight of this our royal order of the Dannebrog.” The president closed the book. “Ordener Guldenlew, Baron Thorwick, Knight of the Dannebrog, you have been found guilty of high treason, for which crime your head shall be cut off, your body burned, and your ashes flung to the winds. Ordener Guldenlew, traitor, you have shown yourself unworthy to hold rank with the knights of the Dannebrog. I request you to humble yourself, for I am about to degrade you publicly in the name of the king.” The president stretched his hand over the book of the [Illustration: _“Forbear,” said the Bishop._ Photo-Etching.--From drawing by Démarest.] order and prepared to pronounce the fatal formula against Ordener, who remained calm and motionless, when a side door opened to the right of the bench. An officer of the Church entered and announced his reverence, the bishop of Throndhjem. He entered hurriedly, accompanied by another ecclesiastic, on whose arm he leaned. “Stop, Mr. President!” he exclaimed with a strength of which a man of his age seemed hardly capable. “Stop! Heaven be praised! I am in time.” The audience listened with renewed interest, foreseeing some fresh development. The president turned angrily to the bishop: “Allow me to inform your reverence that your presence here is wholly unnecessary. The court is about to degrade from his rank the prisoner, who will suffer the penalty of his crime directly.” “Forbear,” said the bishop, “to lay hands on one who is pure in the sight of God. The prisoner is innocent.” The cry of astonishment which burst from the spectators was only matched by the cry of terror uttered by the president and private secretary. “Yes, tremble, judges!” resumed the bishop, before the president could recover his usual presence of mind; “tremble! for you are about to shed innocent blood.” As the president’s agitation died away, Ordener arose in consternation. The noble youth feared lest his generous ruse had been discovered, and proofs of Schumacker’s guilt had been found. “Bishop,” said the president, “in this affair crime seems to evade us, being transferred from one to another. Do not trust to any mere appearance. If Ordener Guldenlew be innocent, who, then, is guilty?” “Your grace shall know,” replied the bishop. Then showing the court an iron casket which a servant had brought in behind him: “Noble lords, you have judged in darkness; within this casket is the miraculous light which shall dissipate that darkness.” The president, private secretary, and Ordener, all seemed amazed at the sight of the mysterious casket.