w what I am doing. I sought him in his own dwelling, but
there he was not to be found. If, now, I went about to seize him
here--think you that Dame Margit would be minded to give me Signe
to wife?

ERIK.

[With deliberation.] No, by fair means it might scarcely be, but--

KNUT.

And by foul means I am loth to proceed. Moreover, Gudmund is
my friend from bygone days; and he can be helpful to me. [With
decision.] Therefore it shall be as I have said. This evening
no one at Solhoug shall know that Gudmund Alfson is an outlaw;--
to-morrow he must look to himself.

ERIK.

Aye, but the King's decree?

KNUT.

Oh, the King's decree! You know as well as I that the King's
decree is but little heeded here in the uplands. Were the King's
decree to be enforced, many a stout fellow among us would have
to pay dear both for bride-rape and for man-slaying. Come this
way, I would fain know where Signe--?

[They go out to the right.
[GUDMUND and SIGNE come down the footpath at the back.

SIGNE.

Oh, speak! Say on! For sweeter far
Such words than sweetest music are.

GUDMUND.

Signe, my flower, my lily fair!

SIGNE. [In subdued, but happy wonderment.]

I am dear to him--I!

Gudmund.

As none other I swear.

SIGNE.

And is it I that can bind your will!
And is it I that your heart can fill!
Oh, dare I believe you?

GUDMUND.

Indeed you may.
List to me, Signe! The years sped away,
But faithful was I in my thoughts to you,
My fairest flowers, ye sisters two.
My own heart I could not clearly read.
When I left, my Signe was but a child,
A fairy elf, like the creatures wild
Who play, while we sleep, in wood and mead.
But in Solhoug's hall to-day, right loud
My heart spake, and right clearly;
It told me that Margit's a lady proud,
Whilst you're the sweet maiden I love most dearly.

SIGNE. [Who has only half listened to his words.]

I mind me, we sat in the hearth's red glow,
One winter evening--'tis long ago--
And you sang to me of the maiden fair
Whom the neckan had lured to his watery lair.
There she forgot both father and mother,
There she forgot both sister and brother;
Heaven and earth and her Christian speech,
And her God, she forgot them all and each.
But close by the strand a stripling stood
And he was heartsore and heavy of mood.
He struck from his harpstrings notes of woe,
That wide o'er the waters r