Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 1).pdf/57



A knight? Nay, that can scarce be.

Why not?

Did you not say yourself: the last of our knighthood is dead and gone?

The accursed knave, with his prying and peering! What avails all my striving to hide and hush things? They whisper of her even now—; soon all men will be shouting aloud that

[Comes in again through the door on the left; looks round her, and says with suppressed emotion:] Are you alone, Biörn?

Is it you, Mistress Elina?

Come, Biörn, tell me one of your stories; I know you can tell others than those that

A story? Now—so late in the evening?

If you count from the time when it grew dark at Östråt, then 'tis late indeed.