NILS LYKKE. ——the chance, namely, that there should exist in
Sweden a man entitled by his birth to claim election to the kingship.
LADY INGER (evasively). The Swedish nobles have been even as bloodily hewn down as our own, Sir Councillor. Where would you seek for——?
NILS LYKKE (with a smile). Seek? The man is found already——
LADY INGER (starts violently). Ah! He is found?
NILS LYKKE. ——And he is too closely akin to you, Lady Inger,
to be far from your thoughts at this moment.
(Looks at her.)
The last Count Sture left a son——
LADY INGER (with a cry). Holy Saviour, how know you——?
NILS LYKKE (surprised). Be calm, Madam, and let me finish.—
This young man has lived quietly till now with his mother, Sten
Sture's widow.
LADY INGER (breathes more freely). With——? Ah, yes—true,
true!
NILS LYKKE. But now he has come forward openly. He has shown himself in the Dales as leader of the peasants; their numbers are growing day by day; and—as perhaps you know—they are finding friends among the peasants on this side of the border-hills.
LADY INGER (who has in the meantime regained her composure). Sir Councillor,—you speak of all these things as though they must of necessity be known to me. What ground have I given you to believe so? I know, and wish to know, nothing. All my care is to live quietly within my own domain; I give no helping hand to the rebels; but neither must you count on me if it be your purpose to put them down.