LADY INGER. And this fear—this torturing dread! Through all these weary years it has been ever with me——and then all fails at last, and I must bear this agony!—Oh Lord my God, is it right of thee? Was it for this thou gavest him to me? [_Controls herself and says with forced composure:_ Nils Lykke—tell me _one_ thing. Where have you got him? Where is he? NILS LYKKE. With his foster-father. LADY INGER. Still with his foster-father. Oh, that merciless man—! For ever to deny me—. But it _must_ not go on thus! Help me, Olaf Skaktavl! OLAF SKAKTAVL. I? NILS LYKKE. There will be no need, if only you—— LADY INGER. Hearken, Sir Councillor! What you know you shall know thoroughly. And you too, my old and faithful friend! Listen then. To-night you bade me call to mind that fatal day when Knut Alfson was slain at Oslo. You bade me remember the promise I made as I stood by his corpse amid the bravest men in Norway. I was scarce full-grown then; but I felt God’s strength in me, and methought, as many have thought since, that the Lord himself had set his mark on me and chosen me to fight in the forefront for my country’s cause. Was it pride of heart? Or was it a calling from on high? That I have never clearly known. But woe to whoso is charged with a mighty task. For seven years I fear not to say that I kept my promise faithfully. I stood by my countrymen in all their sufferings and their need. Playmates of mine, all over the land, were wives and mothers now. I alone could give ear to no wooer—not to one. That you know best, Olaf Skaktavl! Then I saw Sten Sture for the first time. Fairer man had never met my sight. NILS LYKKE. Ah, now it grows clear to me! Sten Sture was then in Norway on a secret errand. We Danes were not to know that he wished your friends well. LADY INGER. In the guise of a mean serving-man he lived a whole winter under one roof with me. That winter I thought less and less of the country’s weal.——So fair a man had I never seen—and I had lived well-nigh five-and-twenty years. Next autumn Sten Sture came once more; and when he departed again he took with him, in all secrecy, a little child. ’Twas not folk’s evil tongues I feared; but our cause would have suffered had it got abroad that Sten Sture stood so near to me.