"That I can, sir. But, still, let us take weapons with us. Who knows what we may encounter? The governor's people are difficult to deal with; and Sir Lavé Little keeps guard at the palace with the halberdiers." "Sir Lavé! Great God! my little Ingé's father! He was in the duke's train in Jutland, and I trust him not. Yet, perhaps this is fortunate. He was not with the traitors, then, last night?" "No, sir; he must have arrived the day before yesterday, and entered with old Sir John. Last night, he mounted guard at the palace." "If the prudent John can trust him, so can I. Come, let us leave the sword. The righteous God must now protect us." Without farther deliberation, Drost Peter threw his large scarlet mantle about him, placed his feathered hat on his head, and went forth with a firm, determined step. The squire followed him in silence, after once more looking back dejectedly on the forbidden weapon. To avoid creating an alarm in the house, Drost Peter and his squire went down the stone steps, and closed the door after them. The street was still and deserted. The faint twilight showed them the castle, at a little distance, lying gloomily behind the strong walls, whilst all around it appeared to be still in deep repose, except a few landsknechts, who kept watch outside the locked gate, and who paced backwards and forwards, with measured steps, their halberds and lances in their hands. Drost Peter and his squire approached the palace with rapid strides. The young drost had not omitted to take with him a token, which, by virtue of his important office, gave him a right to demand admittance into the palace, and to the king's person, at all times. This token consisted of a plate of gold, on which was impressed the royal seal, with the two crowns. With this in his hand, the drost strode forward towards the outer sentinel, and passed the corner house in the broad King-street, when he found himself suddenly stopped, and surrounded by twelve armed burghers. A respectable man, with a large silver staff in his hand, stepped forward from among them, and said, with much seriousness, while he raised his staff: "Sir Drost Peter Hessel, the governor of the town takes you prisoner in the king's name. Be pleased to follow us." "Not one step," replied Drost Peter, "until you show me my king and master's express order for this treatment." "I can produce no written order," said the governor; "but that such an order was issued by the king yesterday, and taken from his chamberlain with cunning and violence, by your people, has been proved to me by the testimony of respectable persons. If you will not follow me willingly, you must excuse me if I employ force. Men, do your duty."