The prison-door was again closed and locked. On the table lay the important parchment, and by its side the silver style, which Drost Peter had left for the purpose of signing.
Sir Abildgaard regarded his master with a disturbed and inquiring look. The duke was pacing the floor with agitated steps: his eyes rolled wildly, and his cheeks were flashed with anger.
"Never, never shall I subscribe this hellish paction!" he exclaimed, "if I must sit here till the day of my death. If I subscribe, with a solemn oath, what stands here, I must either renounce the great object of my life, or become a perjurer and a nidding to all the world. Nay, nay, never shall this be so! I will show them that Duke Waldemar does not value his miserable dukedom higher than his honour and free unconstrained will. I will not foully and basely sell them my soul and my will's freedom, to breathe the air in a larger prison, like a debased, mean-spirited slave. Now, Tuko, now is the time to think seriously of escape, and to burst these walls by craft or violence, or any other possible mode. Let me once stand free, beyond this infernal prison--beyond the bounds of Denmark, and I shall no longer hesitate about what, in my sickly humour, I was well nigh on the point of relinquishing. I shall then shake the dust from my feet, and never more place them on Danish ground until I stand here at the head of an army that shall overthrow the tyrant's throne, crushing beneath it him and all his wretched advisers."
"Were only the first step taken," replied the knight, with a shrug--"were we once our own masters, I should heartily admire your lofty thoughts and brave conclusions; but so long as your great adviser can only speak to you from these walls, and cannot, as a potent spirit should, blow them away like cobwebs, so long, gracious sir, are all your heroic schemes but castles in the air--mere beautiful dreams, which but poorly compensate the loss of a free joyous life and Sleswick's ducal crown."
"How, Tuko! Wouldst thou not despise me were I to subscribe this agreement?"
"Far be such a thought from me, sir. It is a foolish bird that will not fly when the cage is open. See: there lies the crowbar, that, without witchcraft, can break these walls. The good drost has left you here his silver style: a single stroke on the parchment with this enchanter's wand, and our prison is open; the fair, wide world lies before us; we withdraw from this unfortunate country, till we can say thanks to the King of Denmark for this last good turn. We shall find a welcome with the Duke of Saxony, and how will not the fair Princess Sophia be rejoiced--"