Master Grand once more looked uneasily around him. "Lay the stool across the threshold, my son, and let the door stand ajar," he said: "locked in I shall not be. I remain no longer here than is necessary; but I must contrive to protract my stay until the day after to-morrow." "Ah, then, in that case we may hit upon a plan," observed the cook, moving the stool. "I know you do not lack courage. If you only mean to preach a penitential sermon to the illustrious prisoner, one or other of the saints must point your way. An angel in your form, on a celestial ladder, or, for want of that, on a fire-ladder, would certainly be highly edifying to a bewildered soul. Now, good night, your reverence. Tomorrow, betimes, I shall bring your ale-posset. There is no joke in that; and so you may sleep soundly. I must hasten away, and sing in the kitchen, or the castellan will begin to doubt me." With these words, the jolly cook was already out of the door, and sang so lustily, that the knights' hall rang again:-- "O, it was lanky Berner Rise, Grew so tall that none could find him: He was mad, and never wise; Not a man could hold or bind him. But the wood stands all in flowers." Next morning, when Duke Waldemar awoke, a silver cup of warm ale was already on the table by his bedside. He arose hastily, and dressed himself. As soon as he had done so, he raised the silver cup to his lips, as usual, by the handle; but set it down again with surprise, on observing in his hand a summer-fool[22] that had come off, and which appeared to have been loosely attached to the handle. "Who wants to make a fool of me here?" said he, angrily, throwing the flower on the table; but, at the same instant, he perceived a little slip of parchment, which stuck out from its beautiful chalice. He seized the tiny flower-letter, and read the single word, "Subscribe." He gazed for some time on the mysterious billet, and fell into deep thought. "What means this?" he exclaimed, at length, as if awoke from a dream. "Who sends me this mysterious advice? Is it friend or foe? Subscribe! That is easily said: but if it concerns my honour--if it concerns my heart and soul, and the great aim of my life, I would rather subscribe my own death-warrant than the terms I may expect to-day." He gazed, once more, upon the slip, and sank into a reverie. "Already in the council-chamber, noble sir?" exclaimed his lively fellow-prisoner, who now entered. "If I am not mistaken, you have had a morning visit from your wise and entertaining spirit. Methinks you were just now talking with some one--perhaps with your good friend in the chest?"