But the ex-trooper, now Commandant, knew that a day of reckoning was coming, and kept a sharp lookout.  When the hostile ship Spes was reported steering in from the sea, the flag of Sweden flew from the peak of Hammershus, and nothing on land betrayed that there had been a change.  As soon as she anchored, a boat went out with an invitation from the governor to any officers who might be on board, to come ashore and arrange for the landing of the troops.  The captain of the ship and the major in charge came, and were made prisoners as soon as they had them where they could not be seen from the ship.  It blew up to a storm, and the Spes was obliged to put to sea, but as soon as she returned boats were sent out to land the soldiers.  They sent only little skiffs that could hold not over three or four, and as fast as they were landed they were overpowered and bound.  Half of the company had been thus disposed of when the lieutenant on board grew suspicious, and sent word that without the express orders of the major no more would come.  But Jens Kofoed’s wit was equal to the emergency.  The next boat brought an invitation to the lieutenant to come in and have breakfast with the officers, who would give him his orders there.  He walked into the trap; but when he also failed to return, his men refused to follow.  He had arranged to send them a sign, they said, that everything was all right.  If it did not come, they would sail away to Sweden for help.

It took some little persuasion to make the lieutenant tell about the sign, but in the end Jens Kofoed got it.  It turned out to be his pocket-knife.  When they saw that, the rest came, and were put under lock and key with their fellows.

The ship was left.  If that went back, all was lost.  Happily both captain and mate were prisoners ashore.  Four boat-loads of islanders, with arms carefully stowed under the seats, went out with the mate of the Spes, who was given to understand that if he as much as opened his mouth he would be a dead man.  They boarded the ship, taking the crew by surprise.  By night the last enemy was comfortably stowed, and the ship on her way to Roenne, where the prisoners were locked in the court-house cellar, with shotted guns guarding the door.  Perhaps it was the cruelties practised by Swedish troops in Denmark that preyed upon the mind of Jens Kofoed when he sent the parson to prepare them for death then and there; but better counsel prevailed.  They were allowed to live.  The whole war cost only two lives, the governor’s and that of a sentinel at the castle, who refused to surrender.  The mate of the Spes and two of her crew contrived to escape after they had been taken to Copenhagen, and from them Karl Gustav had the first tidings of how he lost the island.