The drost hastily drew forth the sheet of parchment that he had been reading, tore off a portion on which there was no writing, and, with a silver style which he carried about him, wrote upon it a few words to his warden at Harrestrup-Gaard, near Viborg. Scarcely had he finished the brief epistle, before long-withstood weariness overpowered him. The style fell from his hand; his long, dark-haired eyelids closed in spite of him; and he leant back on the bench, until he rested against the wall. Seated in this manner, in a few minutes he was fast asleep, and was busied, apparently, in his dreams, with some dear and familiar object. The soft gleam of the nearly-expiring light fell on his youthful but strong and almost stern countenance, which now, however, was lit up with a kindly smile; while, in his right hand, he held a rosary of rubies, which he wore concealed about his neck, and to which was attached a solitary amber jewel, which had seemingly belonged to a lady's necklace. His left hand still rested firmly, and with a half-conscious carefulness, upon the parchment that lay open before him on the table. He was still securely slumbering in this position, when the door was gently opened, and a face peered in, which, though half concealed beneath a fisherman's shaggy cap, yet, with its thin, sandy beard and crafty features, betrayed the Chamberlain Rané. He was dressed entirely like a fisherman. He allowed the door to stand ajar, and, gliding noiselessly into the apartment, advanced on tiptoe to the table, where the knight's left hand still rested on the documents. After a scrutinising glance at the sleeper, his small gray eyes rested with curiosity upon the letter. He paused, and was about to slip it away; but the knight just then making a motion with his right hand, the artful spy hastily stepped back. He again approached carefully, looked upon the letter with strained attention, and turned pale when he saw his own name among a long list of others, in the open document, headed "Conspirators." He groped with one hand for a dagger, whose bright silver hilt projected from his breast-pocket; but appeared suddenly to restrain himself, as his eye fell upon the small slip addressed to the warden of Harrestrup. He seemed surprised on reading it, and, with a smile of triumph, went out as gently and cautiously as he had entered.