Drost Peter threw himself with drawn sword amidst the combatants. "Peace here, in the king's name, or you are dead men!" he commanded, in a voice which, without being alarming, had singular weight and authority. They all paused, and gazed at him. Even the maddened Sir Thorstenson, who had felled one man and wounded another, subdued his rage, and stood quietly.
"Speak! what has happened?" demanded the drost. "Here, I am supreme judge."
"Rebellion--mutiny!" cried Thorstenson: "there lies the ringleader."
"They think that we have arbitrarily compelled the commandant, and that we are leading them into mischief," said Rimaardson.
The uproarious landsknechts pressed forward, uttering defiance, and shouting lustily to one another: "We are free Danes, and will not suffer ourselves to be cowed by three rovers. We know well enough, that you would have murdered the castellan in the tower; and here are we, carried off in the murky night, like cattle for slaughter, and no one knows whither."
"Silence!" cried the drost. "Is there any one amongst you who knows the king's hand and seal?"
"That does wise Christen--yes, that does Christen Fynbo," cried the fellows.
"Let him come hither, then," commanded the drost, taking forth the royal warrant addressed to governors of castles. "A torch here! and now attend." He then read aloud, and distinctly, the order that he should be supplied with a force, whenever it should be demanded. "There you see the king's seal and signature."
"It is well attested, comrades," said the book-learned Fynbo; and the greater number were pacified: still, a few solitary murmurs were heard.
"Now you have seen black on white for our right and authority, fellows," continued Drost Peter, sternly; "but, even without this, you ought to obey, when your governor has commanded you. Meantime are you all my prisoners: I cannot employ fellows like you in the king's service. Your leader has met with his reward. Cast him overboard, and let the fish devour him. The rest of you lay down your arms immediately."
The soldiers delayed, and a subdued murmur ran among them.
"Do you hesitate?" cried the drost. "Will you be doomed as traitors? Cast the rebel's corpse overboard: his sentence is passed here--God be merciful to his soul!"