lerk" in the cloister of Ste. Genevieve in Paris,
daily he laid the breviary aside and took up sword and lance,
learning the arts of modern warfare with the graces of chivalry. In
the old way of fighting, man to man, the men of the North had been
the equals of any, if not their betters; but against the new methods
of warfare their prowess availed little. Absalon, the monk, kept his
body strong while soul and mind matured. When nothing more
adventurous befell, he chopped down trees for the cloister hearths.
But oftener the clash of arms echoed in the quiet halls, or the
peaceful brethren crossed themselves as they watched him break an
unruly horse in the cloister fen. Saxo tells us that he swam easily
in full armor, and in more than one campaign in later years saved
drowning comrades who were not so well taught.

The while he watched rising all about some of the finest churches in
Christendom. It was the era of cathedral building in Europe. The
Romanesque style of architecture had reached its highest development
in the very France where he spent his young manhood's years, and the
Gothic, with its stamp of massive strength, was beginning to
displace its gentler curve. Ten years of such an environment, in a
land teeming with historic traditions, rounded out the man who set
his face toward home, bent on redeeming his people from the unjust
reproach of being mere "barbarians of the North."

It was a stricken Denmark to which he came back. Three claimants
were fighting for the crown. 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. They swore a dear oath to keep the pact, but
for all that "the three kingdoms did not last three days." The
treacherous Svend waited only for a chance to murder both his
rivals, and it came quickly, when he and Valdemar were the guests of
Knud at Roskilde. They had eaten and drunk together and were
gathered in the "Storstue," the big room of the house, when Knud saw
Svend whispering aside with his men. With a sudden foreboding of
evil, he threw his arms about Valdemar's shoulders and kissed him.
The young King, who was playing chess with one of his men, looked up
in surprise and asked what it meant. Just then Svend le