The Drost had been some time ago summoned from the hall, and no one knew where he was. "Now Marsk Oluffsen! do _you_ sing of our warriors and heroes!" said the king. "But have a care you split not the good arches here in our hall! I know your voice well." "I would rather fight than sing songs for you, my liege!" answered the Marsk; "they say I sing like a growling bear, but if you desire it I will willingly growl you out a song." He then cleared his throat, and began in a bass voice as deep and hollow as from an abyss. "It was young Ulf van Jern, Unto the king went he, My father's death for to avenge, Your men will you lend me."[8] "Silence!" exclaimed the king, stamping vehemently on the floor. The Marsk was silent, and stared at him in astonishment. "What are ye thinking of, Sir Marsk! would you remind the king of his father's death?" whispered Count Henrik in his ear. "By all the martyrs! who ever thought of that?" said the Marsk, and hastily withdrew. Soon after, the master of the household stepped forward, and summoned the king and his guests to the supper-table, as he threw open the door of the dining-hall. As was customary when the king was present, all the etiquettes of the table were observed according to chivalrous usage. Each knight had his appointed seat, with a small separate trencher and napkin. When the king went to take his place, he was wont to walk round the table of his knights, and at times to cast an observant glance over these small napkins, which were to lie whole and smoothly spread before the seats of the knights, with bread and trenchers, or plates, in a prescribed position. If a rent or a slit was found in the napkin, or if the bread lay reversed, it implied a charge touching the honour of the knight to whom the bread and napkin belonged, and the person thus accused was instantly obliged to leave the table, and remain shut out from the community of knights, until he should have justified himself. The day preceding a tournament there were generally a herald and two pursuivants, or under-heralds, present, at the king's table and that of his knights, to watch over the observance of these customs. This was the case on this evening. When the king came to the middle of the knights' table, he stopped, on remarking three trenchers upon which the bread lay reversed; he started, and nodded to the herald. "Who are to sit here?" asked the king with a stern look. "The high-born knights, Sir Niels Brock and Sir Johan Papæ, my liege," answered the herald, with lowered staff and a precise deportment. "Also a certain Ako Krummedigé, whom no one knows. It is he to whom it hath been permitted to wear his helmet here in the hall, and keep silence towards every one, according to his knights' vow at the holy sepulchre." "Who is their accuser?"