"Thou shalt soon see," said Helmer, approaching the starting and rearing steeds. "So! ho! old fellows! stand still!--if we have risked our lives for the king, he can doubtless lend us a pair of horses. Had I my good Arab it should fly with us both faster than the wind. The pepper 'prentice I answer for," he continued, still enticing the horses. "I have soused and pumelled him so soundly, that he will do no mischief again in a hurry, if there is life in him yet--and I dare wager my head it was the right one. If thou hast made an end of Berner Kopmand, countryman, I answer for Henrik Gullandsfar, and the archbishop hath gone to the devil; there is now no great danger astir, and the king needs us no longer here. I am no great lover of trial and imprisonment, seest thou? and if the king does not need my life, I know of one who will give me a kiss for saving it.--So ho, there! That's right, my lad!--a noble animal, by my soul! I desert not from the service to run home to my young wife,--that none shall say of me. Do thou like me, countryman! I will now ride on the king's prancer as his bridesman to Sweden, to perform what I have neglected. If thou wilt come with me, come then!" Meanwhile Helmer had caught one of the spirited steeds. In an instant he was upon its back, and galloped away over hedge and ditch with the swiftness of a deer. The Drost's squire did not long hesitate; he was soon seated on the back of the other, and followed Sir Helmer at a brisk gallop. CHAP. V. When the sun rose over the Sound, signs of cheerful animation and active stir were already perceptible in the village of Sorretslov, while the bishop's town still lay shrouded in fog, ensconced behind its trenches and palisades, and seemed to slumber after the wild revels of the preceding night. Peasants were seen removing cattle on the pastures, between the village and the northern gate of the town. The grooms of the king's household were riding the horses to water from the farms and meadows of the royal castle, at the large pool in the midst of the village; but around the pasture near Sorretslov lake, where the king's trained tournament-steeds had grazed, two grooms were running in despair, vainly seeking the fine horses which were entrusted to their charge. "Help us, St. Alban! and all saints!" cried the younger groom. "If the Marsk comes home he will slay us, at the least." "And the king!" groaned the other--"the king will be wrath; and that is even far worse. We must find them though we should have to run to the world's end. Come!"--They sprang away over hedge and ditch, where they saw the dew brushed off from the grass, and fresh traces of galloping horses' feet on the meadow; at last they recognised the well-known trained step of the steeds on the road between the two lakes, and were soon far away.