"Secure the doors--we are all here," he said to the two at the further end of the table. Squire Kaggé and Chamberlain Rané rose, and placed bars across both doors of the hall. They again took their seats, and there was an expectant silence, all eyes being fastened on the marsk. "You all know wherefore we are again assembled, my trusty friends," began the grave marsk, in a deep, subdued voice, betraying powerfully suppressed indignation: "you all know what has rendered this castle, for the last nine years, a dismal and sorrowful abode. I declared it before the people of Denmark, and before all the world, in the hour when I denounced the King of Denmark in the Ting of Viborg, and swore to revenge my shame or to lose my life. I have not had my revenge, and Marsk Stig Andersen still lives. Had I delayed so long from base fear, and had I rather wished to be a braggart and perjurer than to risk my life for my honour, then might you all despise me--then might every drop of blood in my body suffuse these cheeks with shame, in presence of my friends and kinsmen. But see! I blush not: I am calm and cool, as beseems a man who can keep his revenge until his hair becomes gray, and suffer his thoughts to grow until they ripen. My own disdain I have hitherto borne for your sakes and for the sake of my country. I have had a greater and more important aim in view than merely to wipe out the stains on my own and my house's honour. The great hour of retribution has not yet arrived; but it approaches. No impatience--no precipitation, friends--and it shall surely come. I see no one present who has not been deeply wronged and injured by this same tyrant, whom I have denounced, and whose death and downfall I have sworn; but none of you have so much to revenge as I. So long, then, as Stig Andersen can brook delay, so long may you also." Count Jacob exhibited some impatience, and seemed desirous to speak; but a look from the marsk immediately quieted him. "It is for more than one man's revenge," he continued; "more than the weal and woe of our whole race together: it is for the deliverance of a degenerate, but still a noble, though cast-down and unhappy people. It is not enough that we overthrow the tyrant who contemns all law, both human and divine: he must fall, but the throne must stand. While we overthrow the nidding, we must not only secure ourselves and our privileges, but must, at the same time, secure a worthy ruler for the throne. We certainly hoped to have found him, and we hope so still; but his imprisonment put a stop to our grand designs, and his oath and renunciation have, for the present, deprived us of his participation in our council. We have him not amongst us--his elevated seat stands empty; but I see here, nevertheless, his chivalrous friend and fellow-prisoner; and I see, moreover, his confessor, the sagacious, worthy sir dean. Speak, noble sirs: what may we expect of the duke?"