"Rievers, truly, my noble knight," answered old Henner, raising himself, with the help of the young fishermen, who, in all haste, had already bound up his arm and shoulder, and now withheld their clamour from respect to their senior and the distinguished stranger. "The cowardly pack!" continued Henner; "they have forcibly carried off my grandchild, my little Assé, my only joy and comfort. Had I not been afraid of killing the innocent child, all the three scoundrels would have been grovelling, with their faces in the dust, where I now lie. If you would know to what rieving band they belong, sir knight, you have only to ride some twenty paces forward, to find one of them with my hunting-knife in his back-ribs. I wish only, for the crown and country's sake, it may turn out to be Niels Breakpeace, and no more distinguished scoundrel." He could scarcely speak for passion. "An abduction?" inquired the knight, "and with force and violence? rievers, too?" "Panderers, traffickers in souls, devils damned!" exclaimed the old man; "but if you are a true Danish knight, help me to save my poor innocent child. She has been carried to the hell-viper on the Ness, yonder, to be polluted." "To Hegness?" inquired the knight, turning pale; and the torchlight fell on his youthful, handsome countenance. "Whom see I? Drost Peter Hessel?" broke forth the old man, suddenly, glad to meet him; "is it you, indeed? Now praised be St. Christian and the Holy Erik, that they have sent you to me, in my need and trouble, for now we shall soon deliver the lamb from the den of wolves, even should King Glip-eye be in the midst of them!" "Think what you say, old man," interposed the knight, sternly: "do not mix up the king in this vile business. If there has been any scoundrel's work here, I shall inquire into it in the king's name, and do you justice. If your wounds will permit you, seat yourself on my squire's horse, and follow me to the fortress. I shall prove to you and these good countrymen, that the king is not a protector of cowards and robbers. But where is the man you have slain? He deserves his fate, whoever he is." "Here! here!" cried the young fishermen, who had already discovered the body, and were dragging it along; "here we have the fellow, as stiff as a speared sea-hog. This is a capital weapon!" The knight observed the corpse attentively, and appeared to be seized with painful surprise. He had been a tall, broad-shouldered fellow, with bristly hair and beard; he wore a scarlet doublet; his morion, which had fallen from his head, and which was now exhibited by one of the fishermen, had no feather, but was marked with the two royal lions. "This is a coward and a riever, who has stolen the helm and doublet of one of the royal guard," said the knight, sternly. "Pull off his doublet, countrymen! Let him no longer wear our king's colours! Drag him to a dung-pit, and there hide his infamy, till doomsday! And now let us off to Hegness."