red leather, and each broad
crimson rein bore certain words embroidered: on the one "A Straight
Quarrel is Soonest Mended "; on the other, "Who Will Dare Learns
Swiftness."

Little time I lost in calling my master to admire, and having read what
was written, he looked in my eyes and said, "I go back to Egeskov."

"That is well done," said I; "may the Almighty God prosper it!"

"But," said he doubtfully, "if I determine on a strange thing, will you
help me, Peter? I may need a dozen men; men without wives to miss
them."

"I can yet find a dozen such along the fiord," I answered.

"And we go on a long journey, perhaps never to return to Nebbegaard."

"Dear master," said I, "what matter where my old bones lie after they
have done serving you?" He kissed me and rode away to Egeskov.

"I thought that the Squire of Nebbe had done with us," Sir Borre began
to sneer, when Ebbe found audience. "But the Bride-show is over, my
man, and I give not my answer for a month yet."

"Your word is long to pledge, and longer to redeem," said Ebbe.
"I know that, were I to wait a twelvemonth, you would not of free will
give me Mette."

"Ah, you know that, do you? Well, then, you are right, Master Lackland,
and the greater your impudence in hoping to wile from me through my
daughter what you could not take by force."

Ebbe replied, "I was prepared to find it difficult, but let that pass.
As touching my lack of land, I have Nebbegaard left; a poor estate and
barren, yet I think you would be glad of it, to add to the lands of
which you robbed us."

"Well," said Borre, "I would give a certain price for it, but not my
daughter, nor anything near so precious to me."

"Give me one long ship," said Ebbe; "the swiftest of your seven which
ride in the strait between Egeskov and Stryb. You shall take
Nebbegaard for her, since I am weary of living at home and care little
to live at all without Mette."

Borre's eyes shone with greed. "I commend you," said he; "for a stout
lad there is nothing like risking his life to win a fortune.
Give me the deeds belonging to Nebbegaard, and you shall have my ship
_Gold Mary_."

"By your leave," said Ebbe, "I have spent some time in watching your
ships upon the fiord; and the ship in my mind was the _White Wolf_."

Sir Borre laughed to find himself outwitted, for the _White Wolf_ could
outsail all his fleet. But in any case he had the better of the bargain
and could afford to show some good-hu