"He is already on his journey hither, and will arrive before midday. But I saw the chamberlain in the guard-chamber: he will, assuredly, not fail in ingenuity, in vindicating himself. I pray you, sire, trust him not too much. Remember that he is the sister's son of Stig Andersen's unfortunate wife." "Good," replied the king, coldly, and changing colour. "You need not remind me of that. The brave Sir John, and Sir Lavé of Flynderborg, your own future father-in-law, are of the same family. As long as Rané obeys me faithfully, and adheres to me, I have no reason to distrust him. Mere honesty will not carry a man through the world, and a crafty servant may, also, be put to a good use. But an end of this. Depart now, my valiant Drost Peter," added the king, suddenly, in a mild and familiar tone. "Let me henceforth see that you are worthy of my confidence. Inform Sir John and David Thorstenson of all, and advise with them what is to be done. God protect you!" The king turned round hastily, and Drost Peter withdrew. In the guard-room, Sir Lavé had been relieved by his kinsman, old Sir John Little. He was a short, strongly built man, with stiff gray hair, but nimble, and almost youthful in his movements. His sagacious, penetrating eye, and stern, commanding air, as well as the brevity and decision with which he expressed himself, denoted the old warrior and leader. His mere presence, without any external mark of distinction, proved his superiority over the most notable of the body-guard, and indicated him as their chief, and as the supreme counsellor of the kingdom. This remarkable man, whom the young drost loved and esteemed as a fatherly friend, had, on the present occasion, resorted to the palace somewhat earlier than usual, and had taken his kinsman's post as captain of the guards. He had already been informed of the danger which Drost Peter had so fortunately escaped. He was engaged in earnest conversation with the town-governor, when he saw Drost Peter, with the king's well-known gold chain about his neck, issue from the door of the royal apartment. With heartfelt joy he approached him, and warmly shook him by the hand. A tear glittered in his stern eye; but, without saying a word to his young friend, he turned quietly, and with a smile, to the town-governor. "As you perceive, my good governor," he said, in a careless tone, "Sir Drost Peter Hessel brings with him a new proof of the king's favour and satisfaction. The whole must have been a mistake. You have erred, but circumstances excuse you. Go, with God's blessing." The governor bowed respectfully, as well to the old counsellor as to Drost Peter, and departed. "Can you favour me with an hour's conversation before the court assembles, sir counsellor?" inquired Drost Peter: "I have an important matter to communicate to you."