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Updated: June 16, 2025
Svensen dropped on his knees by the bedside. "An accident, my Lord Olaf," he began falteringly. Gueldmar's eyes suddenly lightened. "Ah, I remember!" he said. "The rush down the valley I remember all!" He paused, then added gently, "And so the end has come, Valdemar!" Svensen uttered a passionate exclamation of distress.
The land was laid waste by sea-rovers, who saw their chance to raid defenceless homes while the men able to bear arms were following the rival kings. The people had lost hope. Just when Absalon returned, peace was made between the claimants. Knud, Svend, and Valdemar, his foster brother of old, divided up the country between them.
Ulrika pulled a thick shawl from the nail where it hung and wrapped it round her. "I am ready," she said, and without more delay, stepped into the waiting sledge, while Valdemar, with an exclamation of gratitude and relief, took his place beside her. "But how is it?" she asked, as the reindeer started off at full speed, "how is it that the bonde's daughter is again at the Altenfjord?"
They declared that Olaf was but increasing his influence and power so that in the end he might do some hurt to the king and to the realm. They slandered him and spoke all manner of evil against him, representing him as a dangerous rival to Valdemar in the affections of both the queen and the people.
The plaintive, pleading gentleness of her voice and look brought more tears into Ulrika's eyes than had ever been forced there by her devotional exercises, and the miserable Valdemar, already broken-hearted by his master's death, turned away and sobbingly cursed his gods for this new and undeserved affliction.
Long before Dagmar went to her rest, Bishop Valdemar had stirred up all Germany to wreak his vengeance upon the King. He was an ambitious, unscrupulous priest, who hated his royal master because he held himself entitled to the crown, being the natural son of King Knud, who was murdered at Roskilde, as told in the story of Absalon.
Leaving her for a moment, Valdemar quickly returned, carrying the pile of dry brushwood he had brought, he descended with this into the hold of the ship, and returned without it. Glancing once more nervously about him, he jumped from the deck to the pier thence to the shore and as he did so a long dark wave rolled up and broke at his feet.
But his whole being was filled with happiness, and when he stood on the threshold of his home, he saw the white snake, which gives good fortune, glide in under its foundation. The spring that Hellqvist's great picture "Valdemar Atterdag levies a Contribution on Visby" was exhibited at the Art League, I went in there one quiet morning not knowing that that work of art was there.
But when, suddenly having learnt to know all the pangs of neglect and despised affection, I met him the third day, after having waited vainly for him, crossing Our Lady's Square with Valdemar, in my anger I seized my quondam friend roughly by the arm, my face distorted with rage, and burst out: "You are a rascal!" then rushed off, and never addressed him again.
"No poachers allowed on the Sun-Angel Manor!" interrupted Lorimer gravely. Philip went on without heeding him. "I'll question Valdemar Svensen after breakfast. He knows everybody about here. Come and have a smoke on deck when I give you the sign, and we'll cross-examine him." Lorimer still looked incredulous. "What's the good of it?" he inquired languidly.
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