Nils Lykke.
But instead, the gate is very courteously thrown open to us. Mark now—if Inger Gyldenlöve’s fame belie her not, I warrant she will not let her guests lack for either meat or drink.
Jens Bielke.
Ay, to turn us aside from our errand! And what wild whim was that of yours to have me leave my horsemen half a league from the castle? Had we come in force——
Nils Lykke.
She had made us none the less welcome for that. But mark well that then our coming had made a stir. The peasants round about had held it for an outrage against Lady Inger; she had risen high in their favour once more—and with that, look you, we were ill served.
Jens Bielke.
May be so. But what am I to do now? Count Sture is in Östråt, you say. Ay, but how does that profit me? Be sure Lady Inger Gyldenlöve has as many hiding-places as the fox, and more than one outlet to them. You and I, alone, may go snuffing about here as long as we please. I would the devil had the whole affair!
Nils Lykke.
Well, then, my friend—if you like not the turn your errand has taken, you have but to leave the field to me.