ELINA (comes a step nearer). Have you heard the story of the
mother that drove across the hills by night with her little children
by her in the sledge? The wolves were on her track; it was life
or death with her;--and one by one she cast out her little ones,
to gain time and save herself.

LADY INGER. Nursery tales! A mother would tear the heart from
her breast, before she would cast her child to the wolves!

ELINA. Were I not my mother's daughter, I would say you were
right. But you are like that mother; one by one you have cast out
your daughters to the wolves. The eldest went first. Five years
ago Merete* went forth from Ostrat; now she dwells in Bergen
and is Vinzents Lunge's** wife. But think you she is happy as
the Danish noble's lady? Vinzents Lunge is mighty, well-nigh as
a king; Merete has damsels and pages, silken robes and lofty halls;
but the day has no sunshine for her, and the night no rest; for
she has never loved him. He came hither and he wooed her; for she
was the greatest heiress in Norway, and he needed to gain a footing
in the land. I know it; I know it well! Merete bowed to your
will; she went with the stranger lord.--But what has it cost her?
More tears than a mother should wish to answer for at the day of
reckoning.

* Pronounce _Mayrayte_ ** Pronounce _Loonghe_.

LADY INGER. I know my reckoning, and I fear it not.

ELINA. Your reckoning ends not here. Where is Lucia, your second
child?

LADY INGER. Ask God, who took her.

ELINA. It is you I ask; it is you that must answer for her young
life. She was glad as a bird in spring when she sailed from Ostrat
to be Merete's guest. A year passed, and she stood in this room
once more; but her cheeks were white, and death had gnawed deep into
her breast. Ah, you wonder at me, my mother! You thought that the
ugly secret was buried with her;--but she told me all. A courtly
knight had won her heart. He would have wedded her. You knew that
her honour was at stake; yet your will never bent--and your child
had to die. You see, I know all!

LADY INGER. All? Then she told you his name?

ELINA. His name? No; his name she did not tell me. His name
was a torturing horror to her;--she never uttered it.

LADY INGER (relieved, to herself). Ah, then you do _not_ know
all---- ----
Elina--it is true that the whole of this matter was well known
to me. But there is one thing about it you seem not to hav