Frankfort was once the scene of a great coronation festival,
during the course of which a bal masque was given by the King and Queen
to a brilliant assembly of high-born ladies and nobles. The knights and
princes in their fancy costumes were hardly less resplendent than the
ladies in their jewels and brocaded silks, and the masks they all wore
added to the excitement and gaiety of the scene. In all the gathering
there was but one sombre note--a knight in coal-black armour, visored,
of great stature and stately in motion. His graceful mien won the
admiration of the ladies and the envy of the gallants, and the question
of his identity excited much speculation.

With courtly air the Black Knight approached the Queen, knelt before
her, and begged that she would deign to be his partner in the dance.
The charm of his voice and the modest yet dignified manner in which he
proffered his request so touched the Queen that she stepped down from
the dais and joined in the waltz. Never had she known a dancer with a
lighter step or a more delightful gift of conversation. When that dance
was over she granted him another and yet another, till the company
became very curious to know who the gallant knight might be on whom the
Queen bestowed her favours with such a lavish hand. At last the time
came for the guests to unmask, and the dancers made themselves known to
each other--with one exception, that is, for the Black Knight refused
to lift his visor. The King and Queen, however, shared to the full the
curiosity of their guests as to the identity of their strange guest, and
they commanded him to uncover his face, whereupon the knight raised his
visor, though with some reluctance. Neither the royal hosts nor any of
the noble guests recognized him, but a moment later two officials of the
Court advanced and to the astonishment and indignation of the company
declared that the stranger was no other than the executioner of Bergen!
The King's wrath knew no bounds. He commanded that the knave should be
seized and put to death immediately. To think that he had allowed the
Queen to dance with a common executioner! The bare idea was intolerable!

The knave fell humbly on his knees before his irate sovereign.

"I acknowledge my crime, sire," he said, "but your Majesty must be aware
that even my death would not be sufficient to wipe out my disgrace, and
the disgrace of her Majesty, who has danced with an executioner. There
is one other way to efface