Now has he no longer any plea for keeping from me what is my own.
[Adds, as Olaf Skaktavl is going:
Wait; a token—. He that wears Sten Sture's ring, he is my son.
Olaf Skaktavl.
By all the saints, you shall have him!
Lady Inger.
Thanks,—thanks, my faithful friend!
Nils Lykke.
[To Finn, whom he has beckoned to him unobserved, and with whom he has been whispering.] Good—now contrive to slip out. Let none see you. The Swedes are in ambush half a league hence. Tell the commander that Count Sture is dead. The young man you see there must on no account be touched. Tell the commander so. Tell him the boy's life is worth thousands to me.
Finn.
It shall be done.
Lady Inger.
[Who has meanwhile been watching Nils Lykke.] And now go, all of you, and God be with you! [Points to Nils Lykke.] This noble knight cannot find it in his heart to leave his friends at Östråt so hastily. He will abide here with me till the tidings of your victory arrive.
