A tall, dignified person walked over the threshold, with short, uncertain steps. In his right hand he carried, like a staff, a large sword, of three fingers' breadth, and seven quarters in length, with a cross-guard, and gilded brass pommel. A short mantle hung loose over his shoulders. He paused for a moment, and cast a sharp, uneasy glance around the apartment, till, at length, his blinking eye rested for an instant on the queen's favourite, who respectfully saluted his majesty, and remained standing at a distance. The king now advanced a few steps, and, giving the pages a signal, they placed their torches in a brass frame, suspended at half-an-ell's distance from the tapestry, after which they made an obeisance, and retired backwards into the bed-chamber, through the half-open doors of which were seen four of the body-guard, with their bright halberds. The king advanced just as far from the door as was necessary to converse with the knight unobserved by his attendants. "You dare to come into my presence, and at this hour, Knight Hessel!" he said, in a harsh and imperious tone. "You pretend, as an excuse, to have an important and private matter to lay before us, respecting the safety of our royal person. If you think, by such foolish pretexts, to obtain pardon, you are mistaken. Speak! but not a word about yourself. What do you know that affects our own and the throne's security?" "I know, and can testify, sire," replied the young knight, frankly, "that you have slept this night under the same roof with men who, eight days ago, at the manor of Möllerup, took counsel, with the daring Stig Andersen, against the crown and kingdom." "Prove it!" said the king, turning pale. "I can, if you regard the worthy prior of Antvorskov, Master Martin Mogesen, as an upright and trustworthy man, and will rather believe his testimony than mine." "Master Martin?" repeated the king. "Ay, indeed, he is true, and attached to me, and has never, by untimely artifices and crooked devices, sought to approach my throne. Is he present?" "Nay, sire," replied the knight, with burning cheeks, and subduing, with an effort, his injured feelings of honour, where self-justification was denied him; "but he gave me a hint, which I am only half justified in revealing. You know his seal and handwriting, sire?" "Right well: he was for three years my chancellor." "Then read this letter, my stern lord and judge, and you will see that it was not to crave a boon I so urgently entreated an opportunity of conversing with you yesterday evening, and that it is not merely to vindicate myself that I stand here just now."