flamed out at this crowning
act of injustice, and to repair his error Gustavus made haste, not,
indeed, to exonerate Ankarstrom from the charges brought against him,
but to pardon him for his alleged offences.

When the Swedish nobleman was brought to Court to receive this pardon,
he used it as a weapon against the King whom he despised.

"My unjust judges," he announced in a ringing voice, the echoes of which
were carried to the ends of Sweden, "have never doubted in their hearts
my innocence of the charges brought against me, and established by means
of false witnesses. The judgment pronounced against me was unrighteous.
This exemption from it is my proper due. Yet I would rather perish
through the enmity of the King than live dishonoured by his clemency."

Gustavus had set his teeth in rage when those fierce words were reported
to him, and his rage had been increased when he was informed of the
cordial reception which everywhere awaited Ankarstrom on his release.
He perceived how far he had overshot his mark, and how, in seeking
treacherously to hurt Ankarstrom, he had succeeded only in hurting
himself. Nor had he appeased the general indignation by his pardon.
True, the flame of revolt had been quelled. But he had no lack of
evidence that the fire continued to burn steadily in secret, and to eat
its way further and further into the ranks of noble and simple alike.

It is little wonder, then, that in this moment, with that warning lying
there before him, the name of Ankarstrom should be on his lips, the
thought of Ankarstrom, the fear of Ankarstrom, looming big in his mind.
It was big enough to make him heed the warning. He dropped into a chair.

"I will not go," he said, and Bjelke saw that his face was white, his
hands shaking.

But when the secretary had repeated the proposal which had earlier gone
unheard, Gustavus caught at it with sudden avidity, and with but little
concern for the danger that Bjelke might be running. He sprang up,
applauding it. If a conspiracy there was, the conspirators would thus be
trapped; if there were no conspiracy, then this attempt to frighten him
should come to nothing; thus he would be as safe from the mockery of his
enemies as from their knives. Nor did Armfelt protest or make further
attempts to dissuade him from going. In the circumstances proposed by
Bjelke, the risk would be Bjelke's, a matter which troubled Armfelt
not at all; indeed, he had no cause to love Bjelke, in wh