_Sigurd_.--That was indeed a most unfortunate act!

_Helgi_.--Thorolf had been her lover for many years.

_Sigurd_.--I do not know about that. I am not her father confessor.

_Sigurd_.--No. She has the father devil as father confessor, but not
you.

_Sigurd_.--You speak ill of so great a lady.

_Helgi_.--And I shall have to sell my life and salvation as dearly as I
ever may. (_Sobs_.) Help me, deacon, I sink, I sink!

_Sigurd_ (_taking his ring off his arm_).--Take this ring! And ride at
once to Flugumyr and give it to Lady Helga, with this last message from
Thorolf Bjarnason that you shall have peace for life and limb, although
you have slain him.

_Helgi_.--That ring? That is the ring of Einar the Rich!

_Sigurd_.--Ah, the wretch stole the right ring, and now he has ridden
away! Holy Mother of God, then I know not what to do for you!

_Helgi_ (_close to him, as before_).--I shall not live more than three
days, and then I shall awake in the place I dreamed of. Deacon, as sure
as you want to be saved yourself, read masses for my soul when I am
dead.

_Sigurd_.--I shall, depend on it. It may be your dream signifies the