"Indeed, indeed I will--but the stranger guest would talk with you, Sir Drost!" interrupted Margaretha, hastily, and blushing as she withdrew her hand. "As I told you," she added aloud, as she stepped forward with Aage out of the recess, and vainly sought to hide her bashfulness and confusion; "the bandage round your neck you must keep on, and the sling to support your arm." "If it is convenient to you. Sir Drost!" said Master Petrus, who had modestly approached, without interrupting his conversation with the fair maiden, "we might now perhaps conclude our affairs in your private chamber." "I will attend you instantly, venerable Sir! Permit me but a parting word to the noble and hospitable hostess." "And to me also, surely, Sir Drost! although we have never been exactly able to agree?" interrupted Ulrica, rising from the table, where Master Rumelant's panegyrics on his excellent lords and Mecaenases already began to weary her. After many reciprocal expressions of courtesy, which, however, were not wanting in sincerity and heartfelt goodwill, the Drost left the ladies' apartment with Master Petrus; but the object on which his eye lingered the longest was the fair Lady Margaretha. As it rang for mass in Vordingborg town, Drost Aage, clad in complete armour, rode out of the castle gate at the head of two thirds of the garrison of the fortress. At the same time the lady of the castle drove to church with the two captive maidens. At the cross-road before the fortress Drost Aage once more turned round and saluted the ladies in the car. He observed with pleasure a white veil waving from the car in the meek Margaretha's hand. The car was followed to church by Sir Ribolt, accompanied by the three strangers on horseback. "Whither goes the Drost, with all those men-at-arms, Sir Ribolt?" asked Ulrica, inquisitively, as she put her head out of the car; "there is surely neither war nor rebellion here?" "They go but to rid the land of the outlaws and other vagabonds," answered Sir Ribolt. "The assassin who attacked the Drost it seems hath been taken already," he added, in a careless tone, without recollecting the connection of the captive maidens with these turbulent and hated characters, and without remarking that the lively querist turned pale. "What ails thee, sweet child? Canst thou not endure to sit backward?" asked the watchful mistress of the castle. "Come, change places with me; I can bear it." "Ah, let me sit quiet!" sighed Ulrica, drawing her veil over her face. "Margaretha! Margaretha!" she whispered, clinging to her sister; "my dream! my dream! He is taken! His life is in peril!" "Hush! hush! dearest sister!" whispered Margaretha; "it is but a rumour. We will now pray for him and for all sinful souls. See,--the blessed Lord still permits his mild sun to shine upon us all."