ve seen Lady Inger, and have doubtless assured
yourself how loath she is to have a hand in our undertaking, you
will see that 'tis wisest to give her back her own as soon as may
be. Well might it come to pass that in her joy and security and
thankfulness--" ---- "--that is now our last hope."
(Sits for awhile as though struck dumb with surprise; then
exclaims in a low voice:)
Aha,--what a letter! Gold would not buy it!

NILS STENSSON. 'Tis plain I have brought you weighty tidings.
Ay, ay,--Peter Kanzler has many irons in the fire, folk say.

NILS LYKKE (to himself). What to do with all this? A thousand
paths are open to me---- Suppose I----? No, 'twere to risk too
much. But if--ah, if I----? I will venture it.
(Tears the letter across, crumples up the pieces, and hides
them inside his doublet; puts back the other papers into
the packet, which he sticks inside his belt; rises and says:)
A word, my friend!

NILS STENSSON. Well--your looks say that the game goes bravely.

NILS LYKKE. Ay, by my soul it does. You have given me a hand
of nought but court cards,--queens and knaves and----

NILS STENSSON. But what of me, that have brought all these good
tidings? Have I nought more to do?

NILS LYKKE. You? Ay, that have you. You belong to the game.
You are a king--and king of trumps too.

NILS STENSSON. I a king? Oh, now I understand; you are thinking
of my exaltation----

NILS LYKKE. Your exaltation?

NILS STENSSON. Ay; that which you foretold me, if King Gustav's
men got me in their clutches----

(Makes a motion to indicate hanging.)

NILS LYKKE. True enough;--but let that trouble you no more. It
now lies with yourself alone whether within a month you shall have
the hempen noose or a chain of gold about your neck.

NILS STENSSON. A chain of gold? And it lies with me?

(NILS LYKKE nods.)

NILS STENSSON. Why then, the devil take musing! Do you tell me
what I am to do.

NILS LYKKE. I will. But first you must swear me a solemn oath
that no living creature in the wide world shall know what I am to
tell you.

NILS STENSSON. Is that all? You shall have ten oaths if you
will.

NILS LYKKE. Not so lightly, young Sir! It is no jesting matter.

NILS STENSSON. Well well; I am grave enough.

NILS LYKKE. In the Dales you called yourself a Count's son;--
is't not so?

NILS STENSSON. Nay--begin you now on that