NILS LYKKE. No, my noble lady;—I must needs bring you to terms within this hour. LADY INGER. But what if you should fail? NILS LYKKE. I shall _not_ fail. LADY INGER. You lack not confidence, it seems. NILS LYKKE. What shall be the wager that you make not common cause with myself and Peter Kanzler? LADY INGER. Östråt Castle against your knee-buckles! NILS LYKKE. [_Slaps his breast and cries:_] Olaf Skaktavl—here stands the master of Östråt! LADY INGER. Sir Councillor——! OLAF SKAKTAVL. [_Rises from the table._] What now? NILS LYKKE. [_To_ LADY INGER.] I accept not the wager; for in a moment you will gladly give Östråt Castle, and more to boot, to be freed from the snare wherein not I but you are tangled. LADY INGER. Your jest, Sir, grows a vastly merry one. NILS LYKKE. ’Twill be merrier yet—at least for me. You boast that you have overreached me. You threaten to heap on me all men’s scorn and mockery. Ah, beware that you stir not up my vengefulness; for with two words I can bring you to your knees at my feet. LADY INGER. Ha-ha——! [_Stops suddenly, as if struck by a foreboding._ And these two words, Nils Lykke?—these two words——? NILS LYKKE. ——The secret of Sten Sture’s son and yours. LADY INGER. [_With a shriek._] Oh, God in heaven——! OLAF SKAKTAVL. Inger Gyldenlöve’s son! What say you? LADY INGER. [_Half kneeling to_ NILS LYKKE.] Mercy! oh, be merciful——! NILS LYKKE. [_Raises her up._] Collect yourself, and let us talk together calmly. LADY INGER. [_In a low voice, as though bewildered._] Did you hear it, Olaf Skaktavl? Or was it but a dream? Heard you what he said? NILS LYKKE. It was no dream, Lady Inger! LADY INGER. [_Clasping her hands._] And you know it! You,—you!—Where is he then? Where have you got him? What would you do with him? [_Screams._] Do not kill him, Nils Lykke! Give him back to me! Do not kill my child! OLAF SKAKTAVL. Ah, I begin to understand——