adness. But other perils lay
before him and only vigilance and good fortune saved him more than once
from death or capture. Surrounded by foes and with scarce a friend who
dared aid him in the whole district, his final escape seemed impossible.

The friendly Barbara had advised him to seek Herr Jon, the priest of
Svaerdsjoe, and his driver took the road over the frozen Lake Runn, they
ascending its banks in the smoke coming down from the Fahun copper mines,
and about sunrise reaching a village on the northeast end of the lake.
Jacob was unacquainted with the country beyond this point and Gustavus
went to a house to inquire the way. As he was on the point of entering
he saw within a miner, Nils Haussen, whom he knew to be a Danish partisan
and who would have recognized him at sight. Quickly and without being
seen, he turned behind the door and went towards another village beyond.
Here he met a friendly smelter who agreed to guide him on the way. When
they parted Gustavus gave him a silver dagger, saying gratefully:

"If God helps me, seek me, and I will richly repay you for your aid."

As night came on he sought quarters in a road-side cottage, and as he sat
before the fire in the evening the good-wife said to him:

"Young man, make me some pudding skewers, since you have nothing else to
do."

Gustavus laughingly replied that he would be glad to do so if he only
knew how. This adventure has an interesting resemblance to that of King
Alfred, when, hidden from the Danes in the swine-herd's hut, he let the
good woman's cakes burn on the fire.

Reaching the parsonage of Herr Jon on the following day, he first went to
the barn and helped the laborers to thresh, at the same time asking them
what side their master took. Learning that he was no friend of the Danes,
he made himself known to him and was graciously received, staying with
him for three days.

But this place soon became unsafe. One day Herr Jon's housekeeper entered
a room where Gustavus was washing, the priest standing by, towel in
hand.

"Why are you holding the towel for this common fellow?" she asked.

"That is none of your affairs," said the priest.

But fearing that the woman would talk, he thought it best for his guest
to seek a safer retreat, and sent him to Swen Elfsson, gamekeeper for the
crown, who lived not far away.

Meanwhile the Danish steward, who had been told by the treacherous Arendt
of the character of his guest, had his agents out in