"I bring what is most precious in the world to me," said Ebbe.

"Your lance is broken, I believe?" said the old knight scornfully.

"My lance is not broken," he answered; "else you should have it to match
your word." And rising, without a look at Mette, whose eyes were
downcast, he strode back to the door.

I had now given up hope, for the maid showed no sign of kindness, and
the old man and the youth were like two dogs--the very sight of the one
set the other growling. Yet--since to leave in a huff would have been
discourteous--I prevailed on my master to bide over the morrow, and even
to mount Holgar and ride forth to the hunt which was to close the
Bride-show. He mounted, indeed, but kept apart and well behind Mette
and her brisk group of wooers. For, apart from his lack of inclination,
his horse was not yet recovered; and by and by, as the prickers started
a deer, the hunt swept ahead of him and left him riding alone.

He had a mind to turn aside and ride straight back to Nebbegaard,
whither he had sent me on to announce him (and dismally enough I
obeyed), when at the end of a green glade he spied Mette returning alone
on her white palfrey.

"For I am tired of this hunting," she told him, as she came near.
"And you? Does it weary you also, that you lag so far behind?"

"It would never weary me," he answered; "but I have a weary horse."

"Then let us exchange," said she. "Though mine is but a palfrey, it
would carry you better. Your roan betrayed you yesterday, and it is