"You surprise me, noble sir. Whence have you all this new wisdom? I should almost fancy you have had revelations in your wisdom-den, and have been used to converse with spirits; or some similar folly." "Come, thou shalt see my spirits," said the duke, rising: "I shall show thee that I am not the first who has thought earnestly, within these walls, on the condition of a people and their ruler." "Sjöborg has held many statesmen of importance," said the knight; "but I doubt whether any of them has imparted a new thought to you. The most notable I remember, that occupied this state-prison, was the mad Bishop Waldemar, who struggled for the sixth Canute and Waldemar Seier's life and crown, and finished his days, a crazy saint, in Lockum Cloister." "It is possible that he became crazy at last," replied the duke; "but what made others crazy, may perhaps make us wise. You have guessed aright, Tuko. I have my sleeping-chamber in the prison-cell where that unfortunate bishop, of royal descent and royal mind, sat chained to a block, and gave vent to his indignation by cursing the world and mankind. But that he also had his lucid moments, and saw clearer into the world and its blind rulers than perhaps any one dreamt of, I shall show you memorials that perhaps no human eye save mine has before seen." They had now entered the duke's narrow prison-cell, which looked upon the castle-yard by a grated window, eighteen ells from the ground. Here was still a block, with a rusty iron ring and a heavy chain, made fast to the wall. By the side of the chain lay a large, torn-up paving stone, which appeared to have been used for barricading the door from within. The castellan would have removed these painful relics of former occupants of the cell; but the duke had expressly desired to retain them, when he heard of what powerful kinsman they were memorials. On the dingy walls were many scratches, like runes and oriental characters. To these the duke pointed; but it was beginning to grow dark, and it was impossible to discern any of the words distinctly: the interpretation of the inscriptions appeared also to demand a degree of learning which neither Sir Abildgaard nor his princely master was possessed of. "If this is the book of wisdom you have read in of a night, noble sir," said the gay young knight, "you must have become profoundly learned in a hurry, and must certainly have borrowed a pair of eyes from some of the friendly owls or cats that now and then pay you their dutiful respects through the grating. In this nook, even in broad daylight, I should not be able to tell an X from a U, were I ever so clear-eyed." "You have guessed better than you imagine, Tuko. The bird of wisdom himself has, with his fire-eyes, been a light to my bewildered path." So saying, the duke opened a chest, which, otherwise, served him to keep shoes in. "Look here," he said, taking out a large tame owl, with beautiful flaxen-coloured feathers, and a pair of uncommonly bright eyes.