Lady Inger.
[To herself.] Strange! Then it must be as Olaf Skaktavl said. [To Nils Lykke.] I pray you wait here, Sir Councillor! I will go bring him to you.
[Goes out through the Banquet Hall.
Nils Lykke.
[Looks after her a while in exultant astonishment.] She is bringing him! Ay, truly—she is bringing him! The battle is half won. I little thought it would go so smoothly.—
She is deep in the counsels of the rebels; she started in terror when I named Sten Sture’s son.—
And now? H’m! Since Lady Inger has been simple enough to walk into the snare, Nils Sture will not make many difficulties. A hot-blooded boy, thoughtless and rash——. With my promise of help he will set forth at once—unhappily Jens Bielke will snap him up by the way—and the whole rising will be nipped in the bud.
And then? Then one further point to our advantage. It is spread abroad that the young Count Sture has been at Östråt,—that a Danish envoy has had audience of Lady Inger—that thereupon the young Count Nils has been snapped up by King Gustav’s men-at-arms a mile from the castle.——Let Inger Gyldenlöve’s name among the people stand never so high—’twill scarce recover from such a blow. [Starts up in sudden uneasiness.
By all the devils—! What if she has scented mischief! It may be he is even now slipping through our fingers—[Listens towards the hall, and says with relief.] Ah, there is no fear. Here they come.
[Lady Inger Gyldenlöve enters from the hall, accompanied by Olaf Skaktavi.