During three days the whole town now was given over to mirth and merrymaking. These days seem like the lull that goes before a storm. All strife was ended, all past injuries forgotten. The future seemed full of promise, and the Swedish peasants went hurrying back to their firesides to tell their wives and children of the peace and blessings promised them by Christiern. But it was not yet. Scarce had the echo of warfare died upon the wind when a frightful tragedy took place in Stockholm which sent a thrill of horror to the heart of Europe. At noon on the Wednesday following the coronation all the Swedish magnates with the authorities of Stockholm were summoned to the citadel and ushered into the august presence of their king. As they ranged themselves about the great hall, the nobles and their wives, all wondering what this dismal summons meant, they heard the castle gates grate upon their hinges, and a cold shudder gradually spread among them, as the thought now flashed upon them for the first time that they were no longer free. They had been decoyed by the fulsome promises of their ruler into the trap which he had laid. The noose was already tightening around their necks. Before them, on the throne hallowed by memories of former rulers, sat their tyrant, grim and lowering. Not a trace of mercy was visible in his features. Through a long pause, awful in its uncertainty, they waited, the cold sweat fast gathering on their brows. At length the pause was ended. Archbishop Trolle, chuckling at the near prospect of his revenge, stepped forward and addressed the throne. He began by portraying in ardent language the sufferings he had undergone. He declared that the cathedral at Upsala had been plundered while he was being besieged in Stäket. He dwelt at great length on the wrong which had been done him in the destruction of his castle. He drew attention to the conspiracy entered into against him by certain of the magnates, and their united oath never again to recognize him as archbishop. Finally, he denounced the conspirators by name, and called upon the king to visit them with the punishment which they deserved. At this Christina was summoned before the throne and asked for an explanation of her husband's conduct. She was at first struck dumb with terror; then, recovering herself, she pleaded that her husband had been no more guilty than the other conspirators, as would appear from the document which they all had signed. Christiern, learning for the first time of this document, demanded that it be produced. When this was done, and the king had examined it to his heart's content, he gave it to his clerk to copy, and called on each of the signers in turn to answer for his act. Christiern with his Cabinet then withdrew, leaving the patriot leaders in the great hall guarded by a body of Danish soldiers. At dusk two Danish officers entered with lanterns, "like Judas Iscariot" says a contemporary, and