* Pronounce Mayrayte ** Pronounce Loonghe.
LADY INGER. I know my reckoning, and I fear it not.
ELINA. Your reckoning ends not here. Where is Lucia, your second child?
LADY INGER. Ask God, who took her.
ELINA. It is you I ask; it is you that must answer for her young life. She was glad as a bird in spring when she sailed from Ostrat to be Merete's guest. A year passed, and she stood in this room once more; but her cheeks were white, and death had gnawed deep into her breast. Ah, you wonder at me, my mother! You thought that the ugly secret was buried with her;—but she told me all. A courtly knight had won her heart. He would have wedded her. You knew that her honour was at stake; yet your will never bent—and your child had to die. You see, I know all!
LADY INGER. All? Then she told you his name?
ELINA. His name? No; his name she did not tell me. His name
was a torturing horror to her;—she never uttered it.
LADY INGER (relieved, to herself). Ah, then you do not know
all—— ——
Elina—it is true that the whole of this matter was well known
to me. But there is one thing about it you seem not to have noted.
The lord whom Lucia met in Bergen was a Dane——
ELINA. That too I know.
LADY INGER. And his love was a lie. With guile and soft speeches he had ensnared her.