(Bows hastily, and begins to move away.)
LADY INGER (detains him). Nay, stay! Not so, Sir Knight,— not so!
NILS LYKKE. What mean you?
LADY INGER (in a low voice). Nils Lykke—you are a traitor! Hush! Let no one see there is dissension in the camp of the leaders. You have won Peter Kanzler's trust by some devilish cunning that as yet I see not through. You have forced me to rebellious acts—not to help our cause, but to further your own plots, whatever they may be. I can draw back no more. But think not therefore that you have conquered! I shall contrive to make you harmless——
NILS LYKKE (lays his hand involuntarily on his sword). Lady
Inger!
LADY INGER. Be calm, Sir Councillor! Your life is safe. But
you come not outside the gates of Ostrat before victory is ours.
NILS LYKKE. Death and destruction!
LADY INGER. It boots not to resist. You come not from this
place. So rest you quiet; 'tis your wisest course.
NILS LYKKE (to himself). Ah,—I am overreached. She has been
craftier than I. (A thought strikes him.) But if I yet——?
LADY INGER (to OLAF SKAKTAVL). Ride with Count Sture's troops
to the frontier; then without pause to Peter Kanzler, and bring
me back my child. Now has he no longer any plea for keeping from
me what is my own.
(Adds, as OLAF SKAKTAVL is going:)
Wait; a token.—He that wears Sten Sture's ring is my son.