(Talks with him in a whisper.)
NILS LYKKE (softly, watching them). Ah, take counsel together as much as ye list! All danger is over now. With her written consent in my pocket, I can denounce her when I please. A secret message to Jens Bielke this very night.—I tell him but the truth— that the young Count Sture is not at Ostrat. And then to-morrow, when the road is open—to Trondhiem with my young friend, and thence by ship to Copenhagen with him as my prisoner. Once we have him safe in the castle-tower, we can dictate to Lady Inger what terms we will. And I——? Methinks after this the King will scarce place the French mission in other hands than mine.
LADY INGER (still whispering to OLAF SKAKTAVL). Well, you understand me?
OLAF SKAKTAVL. Ay, fully. Let us risk it.
(Goes out by the back, to the right. NILS STENSSON comes in by the first door on the right, unseen by LADY INGER, who has begun to write.)
NILS STENSSON (in a low voice). Sir Knight,—Sir Knight!
NILS LYKKE (moves towards him). Rash boy! What would you here?
Said I not you were to wait within until I called you?
NILS STENSSON. How could I? Now you have told me that Inger Gyldenlove is my mother, I thirst more than ever to see her face to face—— Oh, it is she! How proud and lofty she seems! Even thus did I ever picture her. Fear not, dear Sir, I shall do nought rashly. Since I have learnt this secret, I feel, as it were, older and wiser. I will no longer be wild and heedless; I will be even as other well-born youths.—Tell me,—knows she that I am here? Surely you have prepared her?
NILS LYKKE. Ay, sure enough; but——
NILS STENSSON. Well?