Although neither the king nor his loyal and devoted subjects recognised the validity of the sentence of excommunication pronounced on them by the archbishop, so long as it was not formally ratified by a papal decree, this awful procedure had nevertheless taken place, and with such publicity that it could not but be generally known. The rumour quickly spread throughout the land, and terrified the people. The threats against those who should not within ten days withdraw all help and companionship from the king had struck terror into many, and several of the domestics, and of the guard of halberdiers absconded from Sjoeborg. The tales recounted of the ecclesiastical captive's skill in the Black Art now contributed still more to alarm his guard. At every unusual sound from the dungeon in the night the turnkeys stole from their posts, and the bravest men-at-arms dared scarcely remain without the prison door, where with trembling voices they often sang valiant battle songs to keep up their courage. The prisoner was guarded with still increasing anxiety. A very suspicious rumour rendered watchfulness still more necessary. Some fishermen from Gilleleie, who supplied the castle with fish, had related in the kitchen that a foreign bark was constantly sailing to and from the coast. The persons on board appeared to be fishermen, and were busied during the day with nets and fishing-tackle, but during the night they landed, and a tall knight in disguise, accompanied by some seamen of suspicious appearance, were seen to lurk in the neighbourhood of the castle. This report had not indeed reached the ears either of the king or the Marsk, but orders were issued that the guard should be doubled in the captive's tower, and that the steward should answer with his life for the archbishop's security. The lower classes now believed that the king would pass sentence of death upon him, and command him to be executed. With the expression of fear and anger in his countenance, as well as of fatigue from a night's watch, the steward one morning descended the stairs of the tower prison with the keys in his hand. "All folk seem possessed here," he muttered. "I shall now have to watch myself to death over that confounded Satan." "Did I not always say so, master? He will drive us all crazed at last," sounded a merry well-known voice in his ear, and Morten the cook stood before him in the twilight at the bottom of the tower stairs. "Morten! thou crack-brained vagabond! is it thou?" called the steward; "where in all the world hast thou been? Folk said thou wert surely bewitched, and gone to the devil, and I began almost to think so myself. The whole pack of them here are losing their wits, and one after another runs off from me. Speak, man! where the devil hast thou been?"