"Thou, trusty old Henner!" continued Drost Peter, turning to the grave old man, who had remained by his side immoveable, on his tall horse, and gazing upon the royal corpse with a strong expression of sorrow--"thou, and the royal huntsmen, pursue the murderers immediately. Take Rané with thee, and compel him to lead thee in their track." Henner Friser nodded, and turned his horse. A minute afterwards, the giant-like old man, with Rané by his side, bound, rode at full gallop past the blazing barn, followed by the huntsmen. "Ye good Danish men," continued Drost Peter, turning to some of the more respectable peasants who stood nearest to him, and who appeared to regard the royal corpse with most sympathy, "ye shall bear the body of our murdered king with me to Viborg. Bleeding, as it now lies, shall it be exposed to the gaze of the people. Lay four planks over that harvest-waggon, and yoke to it six of your best horses. Spread my mantle over the planks, and lay the corpse carefully upon it. You, children, follow me," he said to the two weeping pages, who, in the meantime, had caught the king's steed, and one of the falcons. "Tie the king's horse to the waggon, Aagé: he shall follow his master. Give me the falcon, Bent. Light two fir-torches, and place yourselves at the king's feet. You shall bear the lights for him to-night, for the last time." The boys wept and obeyed; and the peasants soon executed the orders of the drost. His scarlet cloak had now become the king's pall; and he himself sat quietly on his steed, with the king's favourite falcon on his arm, and saw that everything was done becomingly. Many people still crowded around, but there was no noisy commotion. From the women only was heard a solitary sigh, or a subdued expression of pity; but among the men, astonishment at the unheard-of deed appeared more general than sorrow or commiseration. Drost Peter perceived this with deep emotion. "King Erik's last journey is dark. Take brands from the barn, and light us," he said, in a sorrowful tone. Some men from Harrestrup instantly obeyed. "Honour the dead; for the crown he bore, and for the sake of the royal race from which he was descended. Follow him, as many as can, yet as a freewill token of affection: none else is wanted. Withdraw which way you will; but depart with quietness, and repeat at least a prayer for his soul. When the sun last set, he was a powerful king, and our lawful lord and master. Let that den of murder burn," he added, with horror: "its foundation shall be razed, and every trace of it rooted from the earth. Where it stood, shall no man rest any more; but, for centuries to come, shall prayers be said, night and day, for the soul of the murdered king. May the merciful God be gracious to him and all of us!"