might be endless. So when this news reached us I
looked at my master, and he, perceiving what I would say, answered it.

"If Holgar will carry me," said he, "we will ride to Egeskov."

This Holgar was a stout roan horse, foaled at Nebbegaard, but now well
advanced in years, and the last of that red stock for which our stables
had been famous.

"He will carry you thither," said I; "and by God's grace, bring you home
with a bride behind you."

Upon this my master hung his head. "Peter," he said, "do not think I
attempt this because it is the easier way."

"It comes easier than fighting with a woman," I answered. "But you will
find it hard enow when the old man begins to haggle."

I did not know then that the lad's heart was honestly given to this
maid; but so it was, and had been from the moment when she stood before
him in the gateway.

So to Egeskov we rode, and there found no less than forty suitors
assembled, and some with a hundred servants in retinue. Sir Borre
received us with no care to hide his scorn, though the hour had not come
for putting it into words; and truly my master's arms were
old-fashioned, and with the dents they had honourably taken when they
cased his father, made a poor battered show, for all my scouring.

Nevertheless, I had no fear when his turn came to ride the ring.
Three rides had each wooer under the lady Mette's eyes, and three rings
Ebbe carried off and laid on the cushion before her. She stooped and
passed about his neck the gold chain which she held for the prize; but I
think they exchanged no looks. Only one other rider brought two rings,
and this was a son of Lars Trolle, Olaf by name, a tall young knight,
and well-favoured, but disdainful; whom I knew Sir Borre must favour if
he could.

I could not see that the maiden favoured him above the rest, yet I kept
a close eye upon this youth, and must own that in the jousting which
followed he carried himself well. For this the most of the wooers had
fresh horses, and I drew a long breath when, at the close of the third
course, my master, with two others, remained in the lists. For it had
been announced to us that the last courses should be ridden on the
morrow. But now Sir Borre behaved very treacherously, for perceiving
(as I am sure) that the horse Holgar was overwearied and panting, he
gave word that the sport should not be stayed. More by grace of Heaven
it was than by force of riding that Ebbe unhorsed his next man,