"I had not meant to be discourteous," said she contritely; "but tell me
more of these forest-lands."

"Nay," answered Ebbe, "hither comes riding your father with his men.
Ask him for the story, and when he has told it you may know why I cannot
make him or his daughter welcome at Nebbegaard."

To this she made no reply, but with her hand on the palfrey's bridle
went slowly back to meet her father, who reined up at a little distance
and waited, offering Ebbe no salutation. Then a groom helped her to the
saddle, and the company rode away towards Egeskov, leaving the lad with
the dead bird in his hand.

For weeks after this meeting he moped more than usual. He had known
before that Sir Borre would leave no son, and that the lands of
Nebbegaard, if ever to be won back, must be wrested from a woman--and
this had ever troubled him. It troubled me the less because I hoped
there might be another way than force; and even if it should come to
that, Sir Borre's past treachery had killed in me all kindness towards
his house, male or female.

He and my old master and five other knights of the eastern coast had
been heavily oppressed by the Lord of Trelde, Lars Trolle, who owned
many ships, and, though no better than a pirate, claimed a right of
levying tribute along the shore that faces Funen, upon pretence of
protecting it. After enduring many raids and paying toll under threat
for years, these seven knights banded together to rid themselves of this
robber; but word of their meetings being carried to Trolle, he came
secretly one night to Nebbegaard with three ships' crews, broke down the