Chapter III: Part 3

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Nonsense; who is dreaming of ousting you?

LUNDESTAD.

H’m; I’m an old weather-prophet. There has been a change in the wind. Besides, I have my successor ready. Mr. Stensgård is willing——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Mr. Stensgård?

LUNDESTAD.

Wasn’t that what you meant? I took it for a hint when you said he was a man we must make friends with and support.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

I meant in his onslaught upon all the corruption and swindling that goes on at Stonelee.

LUNDESTAD.

But how could you count so confidently upon his breaking with that crew?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

He did it openly enough last evening, my dear fellow.

LUNDESTAD.

Last evening?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Yes, when he spoke of Monsen’s deplorable influence in the district.

LUNDESTAD.

[_Open-mouthed._] Of Monsen’s——?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Of course; that time on the table——

LUNDESTAD.

On the table? Yes?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

He was frightfully rude; called him a money-bag, and a griffin or a basilisk, or something. Ha-ha!—it was great sport to hear him.

LUNDESTAD.

Great sport, was it?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Yes, I own I’m not sorry to see these people a little roughly handled. But now we must back him up; for after such a savage attack——

LUNDESTAD.

As that of yesterday, you mean?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Of course.

LUNDESTAD.

Upon the table?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Yes, upon the table.

LUNDESTAD.

Against Monsen?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Yes, against Monsen and his set. Of course they’ll try to have their revenge; you can’t blame them——

LUNDESTAD.

[_Decidedly._] Mr. Stensgård must be supported—that is clear!

THORA.

Father dear, you must join in the game.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Oh, nonsense, child——

THORA.

Yes, indeed you must; Selma insists upon it.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Very well, I suppose I must give in. [_In an undertone as they go towards the back._] I’m quite distressed about Lundestad; he is really failing; fancy, he didn’t in the least understand what Stensgård——

THORA.

Oh, come, come; they’ve begun the game.

[_She drags him into the circle of young people where the game
is in full swing._

ERIK.

[_Calls from his place._] Mr. Heire, you are appointed forfeit-judge.

HEIRE.

Hee-hee! It’s the first appointment I ever had.

STENSGÅRD.

[_Also in the circle._] On account of your legal experience, Mr. Heire.

HEIRE.

Oh, my amiable young friends, I should be delighted to sentence you all—— I say no more!

STENSGÅRD.

[_Slips up to_ LUNDESTAD, _who stands in front on the left._] You were speaking to the Chamberlain. What about? Was it about me?

LUNDESTAD.

Unfortunately it was—about that affair of yesterday evening——

STENSGÅRD.

[_Writhing._] Oh, confound it all!

LUNDESTAD.

He said you had been frightfully rude.

STENSGÅRD.

Do you think it isn’t a torture to me?

LUNDESTAD.

Now is your chance to atone for it.

ERIK.

[_Calls._] Mr. Stensgård, it’s your turn.

STENSGÅRD.

Coming! [_Quickly to_ LUNDESTAD.] What do you mean?

LUNDESTAD.

Find an opportunity and apologise to the Chamberlain.

STENSGÅRD.

By heaven, I will!

SELMA.

Make haste, make haste!

STENSGÅRD.

I’m coming! Here I am!

[_The game goes on with noise and laughter. Some elderly
gentlemen play cards on the right._ LUNDESTAD _takes a seat
on the left;_ DANIEL HEIRE _near him._

HEIRE.

That whelp twits me with my legal experience, does he?

LUNDESTAD.

He’s rather free with his tongue, that’s certain.

HEIRE.

And so the whole family goes and fawns upon him. Hee-hee! They’re pitifully afraid of him.

LUNDESTAD.

No, there you are wrong, Mr. Heire; the Chamberlain is not afraid of him.

HEIRE.

Not afraid? Do you think I’m blind, my good sir?

LUNDESTAD.

No, but—I can trust you to keep the secret? Well, I’ll tell you all about it. The Chamberlain thinks it was Monsen he was attacking.

HEIRE.

Monsen? Oh, absurd!

LUNDESTAD.

Fact, Mr. Heire! Ringdal or Miss Thora must have got him persuaded that——

HEIRE.

And so he goes and asks him to a state dinner-party! Deuce take me, if that isn’t the best thing I’ve heard for long! No, really now, I can’t keep _that_ bottled up.

LUNDESTAD.

Sh, sh! Remember your promise. The Chamberlain’s your old school-fellow: and even if he has been a little hard upon you——

HEIRE.

Hee-hee! I’ll pay him back with interest!

LUNDESTAD.

Take care! The Chamberlain is powerful. Don’t play tricks in the lion’s den!

HEIRE.

Bratsberg a lion? Pooh, he’s a blockhead, sir, and I am not. Oh, won’t I get a rare crop of taunts, and jibes, and innuendoes out of this, when once our great suit comes on!

SELMA.

[_Calls from the circle._] Learned judge, what shall the owner of this forfeit do?

ERIK.

[_Unnoticed, to_ HEIRE.] It’s Stensgård’s! Think of something amusing.

HEIRE.

That forfeit? Hee-hee, let me see; he might, for example—yes—he shall make a speech!

SELMA.

It’s Mr. Stensgård’s forfeit.

ERIK.

Mr. Stensgård is to make a speech.

STENSGÅRD.

Oh no, spare me that; I came off badly enough last night.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Excellently, Mr. Stensgård; I know something of public speaking.

LUNDESTAD.

[_To_ HEIRE.] If only he doesn’t put his foot in it now.

HEIRE.

Put his foot in it? Hee-hee! You’re a sharp one! That’s an inspiration! [_In an undertone to STENSGÅRD._] If you came off badly last night, why not put yourself right again to-night?

STENSGÅRD.

[_Seized with a sudden idea._] Lundestad, here is the opportunity!

LUNDESTAD.

[_Evasively._] Play your cards neatly.

[_Looks for his hat and slips quietly towards the door._

STENSGÅRD.

Yes, I will make a speech!

THE YOUNG LADIES.

Bravo! Bravo!

STENSGÅRD.

Fill your glasses, ladies and gentlemen! I am going to make a speech which shall begin with a fable; for here I seem to breathe the finer air of fable-land.

ERIK.

[_To the_ LADIES.] Hush! Listen!

[THE CHAMBERLAIN _takes his glass from the card-table on the
right, beside which he remains standing._ RINGDAL, FIELDBO,
_and one or two other gentlemen come in from the garden._

STENSGÅRD.

It was in the spring time. There came a young cuckoo flying over the uplands. Now the cuckoo is an adventurer. There was a great Bird-Parliament on the meadow beneath him, and both wild and tame fowl flocked to it. They came tripping out of the hen-yards; they waddled up from the goose-ponds; down, from Stonelee hulked a fat capercailzie, flying low and noisily; he settled down, and ruffled his feathers and flapped his wings, and made himself even broader than he was; and every now and then he crowed: “Krak, krak, krak!” as much as to say: I’m the game-cock from Stonelee, I am!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Capital! Hear, hear!

STENSGÅRD.

And then there was an old woodpecker. He bustled up and down the tree-trunks, pecking with his pointed beak, and gorging himself with grubs and everything that turns to gall. To right and left you heard him going: prik, prik, prik! And that was the woodpecker.

ERIK.

Excuse me, wasn’t it a stork, or a——?[16]

HEIRE.

Say no more!

STENSGÅRD.

That was the old woodpecker. But now there came life into the crew; for they found something to cackle evil about. And they flustered together, and cackled in chorus, until at last the young cuckoo began to join in the cackling——

FIELDBO.

[_Unnoticed._] For God’s sake, man, be quiet!

STENSGÅRD.

Now it was an eagle they cackled about—an eagle who dwelt in lonely dignity upon a beetling cliff.[17] They were all agreed about him. “He’s a bugbear to the neighbourhood,” croaked a hoarse raven. But the eagle swooped down into their midst, seized the cuckoo, and bore him aloft to his eyrie.—Heart conquered heart! From that clear summit the adventurer-cuckoo looked far and wide over the lowlands; there he found sunshine and peace; and there he learned to judge aright the swarm from the hen-yards and the clearings——

FIELDBO.

[_Loudly._] Bravo, bravo! And now some music.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Hush! Don’t interrupt him.

STENSGÅRD.

Chamberlain Bratsberg—here my fable ends; and here I stand before you, in the presence of every one, to beg your forgiveness for last night.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

[_Falls a step backwards._] Mine——?

STENSGÅRD.

I thank you for the magnanimous vengeance you have taken for my senseless words. In me you have henceforth a faithful champion. And now, ladies and gentlemen, I drink the health of the eagle on the mountain-top—the health of Chamberlain Bratsberg.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

[_Clutching at the table._] Thank you, Mr.—Mr. Stensgård.

THE GUESTS.

[_For the most part in painful embarrassment._] The Chamberlain! Chamberlain Bratsberg!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Ladies! Gentlemen! [_Softly._] Thora!

THORA.

Father!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Oh, Doctor, Doctor, what have you done?

STENSGÅRD.

[_With his glass in his hand, radiant with self-satisfaction._] Now to our places again! Hullo, Fieldbo! Come, join in—join in the League of Youth! The game’s going merrily!

HEIRE.

[_In front, on the left._] Yes, on my soul, the game’s going merrily!

[LUNDESTAD _slips out by the door in the back._

-----

Footnote 14:

An allusion to Holberg’s comedy, _Jeppe på Bierget_, which deals with
the theme of Abou Hassan, treated by Shakespeare in the Induction to
_The Taming of the Shrew_, and by Hauptmann in _Schluck und Jau_.

Footnote 15:

Pronounce “Shöblom”—the modified “ö” much as in German.

Footnote 16:

As before stated, “Heire” means a heron.

Footnote 17:

“Et brat fjeld”—an allusion to the name Bratsberg.

ACT THIRD.

_An elegant morning-room, with entrance-door in the back. On the left,
the door of the_ CHAMBERLAIN’S _study; further back, a door
leading to the drawing-room. On the right, a door leading to_
RINGDAL’S _offices; further forward, a window._

THORA _is seated on the sofa, left, weeping. The_ CHAMBERLAIN _paces
angrily up and down._

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Yes, now we have the epilogue—tears and lamentations——

THORA.

Oh, that we had never seen that man!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

What man?

THORA.

That wretched Mr. Stensgård, of course.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

You should rather say: Oh, that we had never seen that wretched Doctor.

THORA.

Doctor Fieldbo?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Yes, Fieldbo, Fieldbo! Wasn’t it he that palmed off a parcel of lies upon me——?

THORA.

No, my dear father, it was I.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

You? Well, then, both of you! You were his accomplice—behind my back. A nice state of affairs!

THORA.

Oh, father, if you only knew——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Oh, I know enough; more than enough; much more!

DR. FIELDBO _enters from the back._

FIELDBO.

Good morning, Chamberlain! Good morning, Miss Bratsberg!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

[_Still pacing the room._] So you are there, are you—bird of evil omen!

FIELDBO.

Yes, it was a very unpleasant affair.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

[_Looking out at the window._] Oh, you think so?

FIELDBO.

You must have noticed how I kept my eye upon Stensgård all the evening. Unfortunately, when I heard there was to be a game of forfeits, I thought there was no danger——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

[_Stamping on the floor._] To be made a laughing-stock by such a windbag! What must my guests have thought of me? That I was mean enough to want to buy this creature, this—this——as Lundestad calls him!

FIELDBO.

Yes, but——

THORA.

[_Unnoticed by her father._] Don’t speak!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

[_After a short pause, turns to_ FIELDBO.] Tell me frankly, Doctor:—Am I really denser than the general run of people?

FIELDBO.

How can you ask such a question. Chamberlain?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Then how did it happen that I was probably the only person there who didn’t understand that that confounded speech was meant for me?

FIELDBO.

Shall I tell you why?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Certainly.

FIELDBO.

It is because you yourself regard your position in the district differently from other people.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

I regard my position as my father before me regarded his. No one would ever have ventured to treat _him_ so.

FIELDBO.

Your father died about the year 1830.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Oh, yes; many a barrier has broken down since that time. But, after all, it’s my own fault. I have mixed myself up too much with these good people. So now I must be content to have my name coupled with Anders Lundestad’s!

FIELDBO.

Well, frankly, I see no disgrace in that.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Oh, you know quite well what I mean. Of course I don’t plume myself on rank, or titles, or anything of that sort. But what I hold in honour, and expect others to hold in honour, is the integrity handed down in our family from generation to generation. What I mean is that when a man like Lundestad goes into public life, he cannot keep his character and his conduct entirely free from stain. In the general mud-throwing, he is sure to find himself bespattered. But they might leave _me_ in peace; I stand outside their parties.

FIELDBO.

Not so entirely, Chamberlain; at least you were delighted so long as you thought it was Monsen that was attacked.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Don’t mention that fellow!—It is he that has relaxed the moral sense of the district. And now he has gone and turned my son’s head, confound him!

THORA.

Erik’s?

FIELDBO.

Your son’s?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Yes; what tempted him to go and set up in business? It leads to nothing.

FIELDBO.

Why, my dear Chamberlain, he must live and——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Oh, with economy he could quite well live on the money that came to him from his mother.

FIELDBO.

He might perhaps live _on_ it; but what could he live _for_?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

For? Well, if he absolutely must have something to live for, hasn’t he qualified as a lawyer? He might live for his profession.

FIELDBO.

No, that he couldn’t do; it is against his nature. Then there was no official appointment he could well hope for; you have kept the management of your property in your own hands; and your son has no children to educate. Under these circumstances, when he sees tempting examples around him—people who have started from nothing and are worth their half million——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Their half million! Oh, come now, let us keep to the hundred thousands. But neither the half million nor the hundred thousands can be scraped together with perfectly clean hands;—I don’t mean in the eyes of the world; Heaven knows it is easy enough to keep within the law; but in respect to one’s own conscience. Of course my son cannot descend to anything questionable; so you may be quite sure Mr. Erik Bratsberg’s financial operations won’t bring in any half millions.

SELMA, _in walking dress, enters from the back._

SELMA.

Good-morning! Is Erik not here?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Good-morning, child! Are you looking for your husband?

SELMA.

Yes, he said he was coming here. Mr. Monsen called upon him early this morning, and then——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Monsen? Does Monsen come to your house?

SELMA.

Now and then; generally on business. Why, my dear Thora, what’s the matter? Have you been crying?

THORA.

Oh, it’s nothing.

SELMA.

No, it’s _not_ nothing! At home Erik was out of humour, and here——I can see it in your looks: there is something wrong. What is it?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Nothing you need trouble about, at any rate. You are too dainty to carry burdens, my little Selma. Go into the drawing-room for the present. If Erik said he was coming, he will be here soon, no doubt.

SELMA.

Come, Thora—and be sure you don’t let me sit in a draught! [_Embracing her._] Oh, I could hug the life out of you, my sweet Thora!

[_The two ladies go off to the left._

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

So they are hand in glove, are they, the two speculators! They should go into partnership. Monsen and Bratsberg—how nice it would sound! [_A knock at the door in the back._] Come in!

STENSGÅRD _enters._

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

[_Recoiling a step._] What is this?

STENSGÅRD.

Yes, here I am again, Chamberlain!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

So I see.

FIELDBO.

Are you mad, Stensgård?

STENSGÅRD.

You retired early yesterday evening. When Fieldbo had explained to me how matters stood, you had already——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Excuse me—all explanations are superfluous——

STENSGÅRD.

I understand that; therefore I have not come to make any.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Oh, indeed?

STENSGÅRD.

I know I have insulted you.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

I know that too; and before I have you turned out, perhaps you will be good enough to tell me why you are here.

STENSGÅRD.

Because I love your daughter, Chamberlain!

FIELDBO.

What——!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

What does he say, Doctor?

STENSGÅRD.

Ah, you can’t grasp the idea, Chamberlain. _You_ are an old man; you have nothing to fight for——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

And you presume to——?

STENSGÅRD.

I am here to ask for your daughter’s hand, Chamberlain.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

You——you——? Won’t you sit down?

STENSGÅRD.

Thanks, I prefer to stand.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

What do you say to this. Doctor?

STENSGÅRD.

Oh, Fieldbo is on my side; he is my friend; the only true friend I have.

FIELDBO.

No, no, man! Never in this world, if you——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Perhaps it was with this view that Doctor Fieldbo secured his friend’s introduction into my house?

STENSGÅRD.

You know me only by my exploits of yesterday and the day before. That is not enough. Besides, I am not the same man to-day that I was then. My intercourse with you and yours has fallen like spring showers upon my spirit, making it put forth new blossoms in a single night! You must not hurl me back into my sordid past. Till now, I have never been at home with the beautiful in life; it has always been beyond my reach——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

But my daughter——?

STENSGÅRD.

Oh, I shall win her.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Indeed? H’m!

STENSGÅRD.

Yes, for I have will on my side. Remember what you told me yesterday. You were opposed to your son’s marriage—and see how it has turned out! You must put on the glasses of experience, as Fieldbo said——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Ah, that was what you meant?

FIELDBO.

Not in the least! My dear Chamberlain, let me speak to him alone——

STENSGÅRD.

Nonsense; I have nothing to speak to _you_ about. Now, pray be reasonable, Chamberlain! A family like yours needs new alliances, or its brains stagnate——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Oh, this is too much!

STENSGÅRD.

Now, now, don’t get angry! These high-and-mighty airs are unworthy of you—of course you know they are all nonsense at bottom. You shall see how much you’ll value me when you come to know me. Yes, yes; you _shall_ value me—both you and your daughter! I will make her——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

What do you think of this, Doctor?

FIELDBO.

I think it’s madness.

STENSGÅRD.

Yes, it would be in you; but I, you see—I have a mission to fulfil on God’s beautiful earth;—I am not to be deterred by nonsensical prejudices.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Mr. Stensgård, there is the door.

STENSGÅRD.

You show me——?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

The door!

STENSGÅRD.

Don’t do that!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Out with you! You are an adventurer, an a—a—confound my memory! You’re a——

STENSGÅRD.

What am I?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

You are—that other thing—it’s on the tip of my tongue——

STENSGÅRD.

Beware how you block my career!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Beware? Of what?

STENSGÅRD.

I will attack you in the papers, persecute you, libel you, do all I can to undermine your reputation. You shall shriek under the lash. You shall seem to see spirits in the air raining blows upon you. You shall huddle together in dread, and crouch with your arms bent over your head to ward off the strokes—you shall try to creep into shelter——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Creep into shelter yourself—in a madhouse; that is the proper place for you!

STENSGÅRD.

Ha-ha; that is a cheap retort; but you know no better, Mr. Bratsberg! I tell you the wrath of the Lord is in me. It is His will you are opposing. He has destined me for the light—beware how you cast a shadow!—Well, I see I shall make no way with you to-day; but that matters nothing. I only ask you to speak to your daughter—to prepare her—to give her the opportunity of choosing! Reflect, and look around you. Where can you expect to find a son-in-law among these plodding dunces? Fieldbo says she is deep and steadfast and true. So now you know just how matters stand. Good-bye, Chamberlain—I leave you to choose between my friendship and my enmity. Good-bye!

[_Goes out by the back._

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

So it has come to this! This is how they dare to treat me in my own house!

FIELDBO.

Stensgård dares; no one else would.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

_He_ to-day; others to-morrow.

FIELDBO.

Let them come; I shall keep them off; I would go through fire and water for you——!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Yes, you who have caused all the mischief!—H’m; that Stensgård is the most impudent scoundrel I have ever known! And yet, after all—deuce take me if there isn’t something I like about him.

FIELDBO.

He has possibilities——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

He has openness, Dr Fieldbo! He doesn’t go playing his own game behind one’s back, like so many other people; he—he——!

FIELDBO.

It’s not worth disputing about. Only be firm, Chamberlain; no, and no again, to Stensgård——!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Oh, keep your advice to yourself! You may rely upon it that neither he nor any one else——

RINGDAL.

[_Enters by the door on the right._] Excuse me, Chamberlain; one word——

[_Whispers._

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

What? In your room?

RINGDAL.

He came in by the back way, and begs you to see him.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

H’m.—Oh, Doctor, just go into the drawing-room for a moment; there’s some one here who——But don’t say a word to Selma of Mr. Stensgård and his visit. She must be kept outside all this business. As for my daughter, I should prefer that you should say nothing to her either; but——Oh, what’s the use——? Please go now.

[FIELDBO _goes into the drawing-room._ RINGDAL _has, in the
meantime, gone back to his office, whence_ MONSEN _presently
enters._

MONSEN.

[_At the door._] I beg ten thousand pardons, sir——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Oh, come in, come in!

MONSEN.

I trust your family is in good health?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Thank you. Is there anything you want?

MONSEN.

I can’t quite put it that way. Thank heaven, I’m one of those that have got pretty nearly all they can want.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Oh, indeed? That is a good deal to say.

MONSEN.

But I’ve had to work for it, Chamberlain. Oh, I know you regard my work with no very friendly eye.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

I cannot suppose that your work is in any way affected by my way of regarding it.

MONSEN.

Who knows? At any rate, I’m thinking of gradually withdrawing from business.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Really?

MONSEN.

The luck has been on my side, I may tell you. I’ve gone ahead as far as I care to; so now I think it’s about time to slack off a little——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Well, I congratulate both you—and other people.

MONSEN.

And if I could at the same time do you a service, Chamberlain——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

_Me?_

MONSEN.

When the Langerud woods were put up to auction five years ago, you made a bid for them——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Yes, but you outbade me, and they were knocked down to you.

MONSEN.

You can have them now, with the saw-mills and all appurtenances——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

After all your sinful cutting and hacking——!

MONSEN.

Oh, they’re worth a good deal still; and with your method of working, in a few years——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Thank you; unfortunately I must decline the proposal.

MONSEN.

There’s a great deal of money in it, Chamberlain. As for me,—I may tell you I have a great speculation on hand; the stakes are large; I mean there’s a big haul to be made—a hundred thousand or so——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

A hundred thousand? That is certainly no trifle.

MONSEN.

Ha ha ha! A nice round sum to add to the pile. But when you’re going into a great battle you need reserve forces, as the saying goes. There’s not much ready money about; the names that are worth anything are rather used up——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Yes, certain people have taken care of _that_.

MONSEN.

It’s a case of you scratch me, I scratch you. Well, Chamberlain, is it to be a bargain? You shall have the woods at your own figure——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

I will not have them at any figure, Mr. Monsen.

MONSEN.

Well, one good offer deserves another. Will you help me, sir?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

What do you mean?

MONSEN.

Of course I’ll give good security. I have plenty of property. Look here—these papers—just let me explain my position to you.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

[_Waving the papers aside._] Is it pecuniary aid you want?

MONSEN.

Not ready money; oh, no! But your support, Chamberlain. Of course I’ll pay for it—and give security, and——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

And you come to me with such a proposal as this?

MONSEN.

Yes, precisely to you. I know you’ve often let bygones be bygones when a man was in real straits.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Well, in a way, I must thank you for your good opinion—especially at a time like this; but nevertheless——

MONSEN.

Won’t you tell me, Chamberlain, what sets you against me?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Oh, what would be the use?

MONSEN.

It might lead to a better understanding between us. I’ve never stood in your way that I know of.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

You think not? Then let me tell you of one case in which you have stood in my way. I founded the Iron-works Savings Bank for the benefit of my employees and others. But then you must needs set up as a banker; people take their savings to you——

MONSEN.

Naturally, sir, for I give higher interest.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Yes, but you charge higher interest on loans.

MONSEN.

But I don’t make so many difficulties about security and so forth.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

That is just the mischief of it; for now we have people making bargains to the tune of ten or twenty thousand dollars,[18] though neither of the parties has so much as a brass farthing. That is what sets me against you, Mr. Monsen. And there is another thing too that touches me still more nearly. Do you think it was with my good will that my son flung himself into all these wild speculations?

MONSEN.

But how can I help that?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

It was your example that infected him, as it did the others. Why could you not stick to your last?

MONSEN.

Remain a lumberman, like my father?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Was it a disgrace to be in my employment? Your father made his bread honourably, and was respected in his own class.

MONSEN.

Yes, until he’d almost worked his life out, and at last went over the waterfall with his raft. Do you know anything of life in that class, Chamberlain? Have you ever realised what the men have to endure who toil for you deep in the forests, and along the river-reaches, while you sit comfortably at home and fatten on the profits? Can you blame such a man for struggling to rise in the world? I had had a little more schooling than my father; perhaps I had rather more brains too——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Very likely. But by what means have you risen in the world? You began by selling brandy. Then you bought up doubtful debts, and enforced them mercilessly;—and so you got on and on. How many people have you not ruined to push yourself forward!

MONSEN.

That’s the course of business; one up, another down.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

But there are different methods of business. I know of respectable families whom you have brought to the workhouse.

MONSEN.

Daniel Heire is not very far from the workhouse.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

I understand you; but I can justify my conduct before God and man! When the country was in distress, after the separation from Denmark, my father made sacrifices beyond his means. Thus part of our property came into the hands of the Heire family. What was the result? The people who lived upon the property suffered under Daniel Heire’s incompetent management. He cut down timber to the injury, I may even say to the ruin, of the district. Was it not my obvious duty to put a stop to it if I was able? And it happened that I _was_ able; I had the law on my side; I was well within my rights when I re-entered upon my family property.

MONSEN.

I, too, have always had the law on my side.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

But what about your sense of right, your conscience, if you have such a thing? And how you have broken down all social order! How you have impaired the respect that should attach to wealth! People never think of asking nowadays how such and such a fortune was made, or how long it has been in such and such a family; they only ask: how much is so-and-so worth?—and they esteem him accordingly. Now I suffer by all this; I find myself regarded as a sort of associate of yours; people speak of us in one breath, because we are the two largest proprietors in the neighbourhood. This state of things I cannot endure! I tell you once for all: that is why I am set against you.

MONSEN.

This state of things shall come to an end, sir; I will give up business, and make way for you at every point; but I beg you, I implore you, to help me!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

I will not.

MONSEN.

I’m willing to pay what you like——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

To pay! And you dare to——!

MONSEN.

If not for my sake, then for your son’s!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

My son’s!

MONSEN.

Yes, he’s in it. I reckon he stands to win some twenty thousand dollars.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Stands to win?

MONSEN.

Yes.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Then, good God, who stands to lose all this money?

MONSEN.

How do you mean?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

If my son wins, some one or other must lose!

MONSEN.

It’s a good stroke of business; I’m not in a position to say more. But I need a solid name; only just your endorsement——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Endorsement! On a bill——?

MONSEN.

Only for ten or fifteen thousand dollars.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Do you suppose for a moment that——? _My_ name! In such an affair! My name? As surety, no doubt?

MONSEN.

A mere matter of form——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

A matter of swindling! My name! Not upon any consideration. I have never put my name on other men’s paper.

MONSEN.

Never? That’s an exaggeration, Chamberlain.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

It is the literal truth.

MONSEN.

No, not literal; I’ve seen it with my own eyes.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

What have you seen?

MONSEN.

Your name—on _one_ bill at least.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

It is false, I tell you! You have never seen it!

MONSEN.

I have! On a bill for two thousand dollars. Think again!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Neither for two thousand nor for ten thousand! On my sacred word of honour, never!

MONSEN.

Then it’s a forgery.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Forgery?

MONSEN.

Yes, a forgery—for I _have_ seen it.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Forgery? Forgery! Where did you see it? In whose hands?

MONSEN.

That I won’t tell you.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Ha-ha! We shall soon find that out.

MONSEN.

Listen to me——!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Silence! It has come to this then! Forgery. They must mix me up in their abominations! No wonder, then, that people bracket me with the rest of you. But it is my turn now!

MONSEN.

Chamberlain—for your own sake and for the sake of others——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Off with you! Out of my sight! It is you that are at the root of it all!—Yes you are! Woe unto him from whom offences come. Your home-life is scandalous. What sort of society do you get about you? Persons from Christiania and elsewhere, who think only of eating and drinking, and do not care in what company they gorge themselves. Silence! I have seen with my own eyes your distinguished guests tearing along the roads at Christmas-time like a pack of howling wolves. And there is worse behind. You have had scandals with your own maid-servants. You drove your wife out of her mind by your ill-treatment and debauchery.

MONSEN.

Come, this is going too far! You shall pay for these words!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Oh, to the deuce with your threats! What harm can you do to me? _Me_? You asked what I had to say against you. Well, I have said it. Now you know why I have kept you out of decent society.

MONSEN.

Yes, and now I’ll drag your decent society down——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

That way!

MONSEN.

I know my way, Chamberlain!

[_Goes out by the back._

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

[_Opens the door on the right and calls._] Ringdal, Ringdal—come here!

RINGDAL.

What is it, sir?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

[_Calls into the drawing-room._] Doctor, please come this way!—Now, Ringdal, now you shall see my prophecies fulfilled.

FIELDBO.

[_Entering._] What can I do for you, Chamberlain?

RINGDAL.

What prophecies, sir?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

What do you say to this, Doctor? You have always accused me of exaggerating when I said that Monsen was corrupting the neighbourhood.

FIELDBO.

Well, what then?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

We are getting on, I can tell you! What do you think? There are forgeries going about.

RINGDAL.

Forgeries?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Yes, forgeries! And whose name do you think they have forged? Why, mine!

FIELDBO.

Who in the world can have done it?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

How can I tell? I don’t know all the scoundrels in the district. But we shall soon find out.—Doctor, do me a service. The papers must have come into the hands either of the Savings Bank or the Iron-works Bank. Drive up to Lundestad; he is the director who knows most about things. Find out whether there is any such paper——

FIELDBO.

Certainly; at once.

RINGDAL.

Lundestad is here at the works to-day; there’s a meeting of the school committee.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

So much the better. Find him; bring him here.

FIELDBO.

I’ll go at once.

[_Goes out at the back._

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

And you, Ringdal, make inquiries at the Ironworks. As soon as we have got to the bottom of the matter, we’ll lay an information. No mercy to the scoundrels!

RINGDAL.

Very good, sir. Bless me, who’d have thought of such a thing?

[_Goes out to the right._

[THE CHAMBERLAIN _paces the room once or twice, and is then
about to go into his study. At that instant_ ERIK BRATSBERG
_enters from the back._

ERIK.

My dear father——!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Oh, are _you_ there?

ERIK.

I want so much to speak to you.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

H’m; I’m not much in the humour for speaking to any one. What do you want?

ERIK.

You know I have never mixed you up in my affairs, father.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

No; that is an honour I should certainly have declined.

ERIK.

But now I am forced to——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

What are you forced to do?

ERIK.

Father, you must help me!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

With money! You may be very sure that——

ERIK.

Only this once! I swear I’ll never again——The fact is, I am under certain engagements to Monsen of Stonelee——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

I know that. You have a brilliant speculation on hand.

ERIK.

A speculation? We? No! Who told you so?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Monsen himself.

ERIK.

Has Monsen been here?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

He has just gone. I showed him the door.

ERIK.

If you don’t help me, father, I am ruined.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

You?

ERIK.

Yes. Monsen has advanced me money. I had to pay terribly dear for it; and now the bills have fallen due——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

There we have it! What did I tell you——?

ERIK.

Yes, yes; it’s too late now——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Ruined! In two years! But how could you expect anything else? What had you to do among these charlatans that go about dazzling people’s eyes with wealth that never existed! They were no company for you. Among people of that sort you must meet cunning with cunning, or you’ll go to the wall; you have learnt that now.

ERIK.

Father, will you save me or will you not?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

No; for the last time, no. I will not.

ERIK.

My honour is at stake——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Oh, let us have no big phrases! There’s no honour involved in commercial success nowadays; quite the opposite, I had almost said. Go home and make up your accounts; pay every man his due, and have done with it, the sooner the better.

ERIK.

Oh, you don’t know——

SELMA _and_ THORA _enter from the drawing-room._

SELMA.

Is that Erik’s voice?—Good heavens, what is the matter?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Nothing. Go into the drawing-room again.

SELMA.

No, I won’t go. I will know. Erik, what is it? Tell me!

ERIK.

It’s only that I am ruined!

THORA.

Ruined!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

There, you see!

SELMA.

What is ruined?

ERIK.

Everything.

SELMA.

Do you mean you have lost your money?

ERIK.

Money, house, inheritance—everything!

SELMA.

Is that what you call everything?

ERIK.

Come, let us go, Selma. You are all I have left me. We must bear the blow together.

SELMA.

The blow? Bear it together? [_With a cry._] Do you think I am fit for that, now?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

For heaven’s sake——!

ERIK.

What do you mean?

THORA.

Oh, Selma, take care!

SELMA.

No, I won’t take care! I cannot go on lying and shamming any longer! I must speak the truth. I will not “bear” anything!

ERIK.

Selma!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Child, what are you saying?

SELMA.

Oh, how cruel you have been to me! Shamefully—all of you! It was my part always to accept—never to give. I have been like a pauper among you. You never came and demanded a sacrifice of me; I was not fit to bear anything. I hate you! I loathe you!

ERIK.

What can this mean?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

She is ill; she is out of her mind!

SELMA.

How I have thirsted for a single drop of your troubles, your anxieties! But when I begged for it you only laughed me off. You have dressed me up like a doll; you have played with me as you would play with a child. Oh, what a joy it would have been to me to take my share in your burdens! How I longed, how I yearned, for a large, and high, and strenuous part in life! Now you come to me, Erik, now that you have nothing else left. But I will not be treated simply as a last resource. I will have nothing to do with your troubles now. I won’t stay with you! I will rather play and sing in the streets——! Let me be! Let me be!

[_She rushes out by the back._

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Thora, was there any meaning in all that, or——

THORA.

Oh, yes, there was meaning in it; if only I had seen it sooner.

[_Goes out by the back._

ERIK.

No! All else I can lose, but not her! Selma, Selma!

[_Follows_ THORA _and_ SELMA.

RINGDAL.

[_Enters from the right._] Chamberlain!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Well, what is it?

RINGDAL.

I have been to the Bank——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

The Bank? Oh, yes, about the bill——

RINGDAL.

It’s all right; they have never had any bill endorsed by you——

FIELDBO _and_ LUNDESTAD _enter by the back._

FIELDBO.

False alarm, Chamberlain!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Indeed? Not at the Savings Bank either?

LUNDESTAD.

Certainly not. During all the years I’ve been a director I have never once seen your name; except, of course, on your son’s bill.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

My son’s bill?

LUNDESTAD.

Yes, the bill you accepted for him early this spring.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

My son? My son? Do you dare to tell me——?

LUNDESTAD.

Why, bless me, just think a moment; the bill for two thousand dollars drawn by your son——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

[_Groping for a chair._] Oh, my God——!

FIELDBO.

For heaven’s sake——!

RINGDAL.

It’s not possible that——!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

[_Who has sunk down on a chair._] Quietly, quietly! Drawn by my son, you say? Accepted by me? For two thousand dollars?

FIELDBO.

[_To_ LUNDESTAD.] And this bill is in the Savings Bank?

LUNDESTAD.

Not now; it was redeemed last week by Monsen——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

By Monsen——?

RINGDAL.

Monsen may still be at the works; I’ll go——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Stop here!

DANIEL HEIRE _enters by the back._

HEIRE.

Good-morning, gentlemen! Good-morning, Chamberlain! Thank you so much for the delightful evening we spent yesterday. What do you think I’ve just heard——?

RINGDAL.

Excuse me; we are busy——

HEIRE.

So are other people, I can tell you; our friend from Stonelee, for example——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Monsen?

HEIRE.

Hee-hee; it’s a pretty story! The electioneering intrigues are in full swing. And what do you think is the last idea? They are going to bribe you, Chamberlain!

LUNDESTAD.

To bribe——?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

They judge the tree by its fruit.

HEIRE.

Deuce take me if it isn’t the most impudent thing I ever heard of! I just looked in at Madam Rundholmen’s to have a glass of bitters. There sat Messrs. Monsen and Stensgård drinking port—filthy stuff! I wouldn’t touch it; but they might have had the decency to offer me a glass, all the same. However, Monsen turned to me and said, “What do you bet that Chamberlain Bratsberg won’t go with our party at the preliminary election to-morrow?” “Indeed,” said I, “how’s that to be managed?” “Oh,” he said, “this bill will persuade him——”

FIELDBO.

Bill——?

LUNDESTAD.

At the election——?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Well? What then?

HEIRE.

Oh, I know no more. They said something about two thousand dollars. That’s the figure they rate a gentleman’s conscience at! Oh, it’s abominable, I say!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

A bill for two thousand dollars?

RINGDAL.

And Monsen has it?

HEIRE.

No, he handed it over to Stensgård.

LUNDESTAD.

Indeed!

FIELDBO.

To Stensgård?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Are you sure of that?

HEIRE.

Quite certain. “You can make what use you please of it,” he said. But I don’t understand——

LUNDESTAD.

I want to speak to you, Mr. Heire—and you too, Ringdal.

[_The three converse in a whisper at the back._

FIELDBO.

Chamberlain!

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Well?

FIELDBO.

Your son’s bill is genuine, of course——?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

One would suppose so.

FIELDBO.

Of course. But now if the forged bill were to turn up——?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

I will lay no information.

FIELDBO.

Naturally not;—but you must do more.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

[_Rising._] I can do no more.

FIELDBO.

Yes, for heaven’s sake, you can and must. You must save the poor fellow——

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

In what way?

FIELDBO.

Quite simply: by acknowledging the signature.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

Then you think, Doctor, that we stick at nothing in our family?

FIELDBO.

I am trying to think for the best, Chamberlain.

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

And do you believe for a moment that I can tell a lie?—that I can play into the hands of forgers?

FIELDBO.

And do you realise what will be the consequences if you do not?

THE CHAMBERLAIN.

The offender must settle that with the law.

[_He goes out to the left._

ACT FOURTH.

_A public room in_ MADAM RUNDHOLMEN’S _hotel. Entrance door in the back;
a smaller door on either side. A window on the right; before it, a
table with writing materials; further back, in the middle of the
room, another table._

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

[_Within, on the left, heard talking loudly._] Oh, let them go about their business! Tell them they’ve come here to vote and not to drink. If they won’t wait, they can do the other thing.

STENSGÅRD.

[_Enters by the back._] Good-morning! H’m, h’m, Madam Rundholmen! [_Goes to the door on the left and knocks._] Good-morning, Madam Rundholmen!

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

[_Within._] Oh! Who’s there?

STENSGÅRD.

It is I—Stensgård. May I come in?

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

No, indeed you mustn’t! No! I’m not dress’d.

STENSGÅRD.

What? Are you so late to-day?

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Oh, I can tell you I’ve been up since all hours; but one must look a little decent, you know. [_Peeps out, with a kerchief over her head._] Well, what is it? No, you really mustn’t look at me, Mr. Stensgård.—Oh, there’s some one else!

[_Disappears, slamming the door to._

ASLAKSEN.

[_Enters from the back with a bundle of papers._] Good morning, Mr. Stensgård.

STENSGÅRD.

Well, is it in?

ASLAKSEN.

Yes, here it is. Look—“The Independence Day Celebrations—From our Special Correspondent.” Here’s the founding of the League on the other side, and your speech up here. I’ve leaded all the abuse.

STENSGÅRD.

It seems to me it’s all leaded.

ASLAKSEN.

Pretty nearly.

STENSGÅRD.

And the extra number was of course distributed yesterday?

ASLAKSEN.

Of course; all over the district, both to subscribers and others. Would you like to see it?

[_Hands him a copy._

STENSGÅRD.

[_Running his eye over the paper._] “Our respected member, Mr. Lundestad, proposes to resign ... long and faithful service ... in the words of the poet: 'Rest, patriot, it is thy due!'” H’m! “The association founded on Independence Day: the League of Youth ... Mr. Stensgård, the guiding intelligence of the League ... timely reforms, credit on easier terms.” Ah, that’s very good. Has the polling begun?

ASLAKSEN.

It’s in full swing. The whole League is on the spot—both voters and others.

STENSGÅRD.

Oh, deuce take the others—between ourselves, of course. Well, you go down and talk to the waverers.

ASLAKSEN.

All right.

STENSGÅRD.

You can tell them that I am pretty much at one with Lundestad——

ASLAKSEN.

Trust to me; I know the local situation.

STENSGÅRD.

One thing more; just to oblige me, Aslaksen, don’t drink to-day.

ASLAKSEN.

Oh, what do you mean——!

STENSGÅRD.

We’ll have a jolly evening when it’s all over; but remember what you, as well as I, have at stake; your paper——Come, now, my good fellow, let me see that you can——

ASLAKSEN.

There, that’s enough now; I’m old enough to look after myself.

[_Goes out to the right._

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

[_Enters from the left, elaborately dressed._] Now, Mr. Stensgård, I’m at your service. Is it anything of importance——?

STENSGÅRD.

No, only that I want you to be good enough to let me know when Mr. Monsen comes.

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

He won’t be here to-day.

STENSGÅRD.

Not to-day?

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

No; he drove past here at four this morning; he’s always driving about nowadays. What’s more, he came in and roused me out of bed—he wanted to borrow money, you must know.

STENSGÅRD.

Monsen did?

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Yes. He’s a tremendous man to get through money is Monsen. I hope things may turn out all right for him. And I say the same to you; for I hear you’re going into Parliament.

STENSGÅRD.

I? Nonsense. Who told you so?

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Oh, some of Mr. Lundestad’s people.

DANIEL HEIRE.

[_Enters from the back._] Hee-hee! Good-morning! I’m not in the way, am I?

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Gracious, no!

HEIRE.

Good God, how resplendent! Can it be for me that you’ve got yourself up like this?

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Of course. It’s for you bachelors we get ourselves up, isn’t it?

HEIRE.

For marrying men, Madam Rundholmen; for marrying men! Unfortunately, my law-suits take up all my time——

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Oh, nonsense; you’ve always plenty of time to get married.

HEIRE.

No; deuce take me if I have! Marriage is a thing you’ve got to give your whole mind to. Well, well—if you can’t have me, you must put up with somebody else. For you ought to marry again.

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Now, do you know, I’m sometimes of the same opinion.

HEIRE.

Naturally; when once one has tasted the joys of matrimony——Of course, poor Rundholmen was one in a thousand——

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Well, I won’t go so far as that; he was a bit rough, and rather too fond of his glass; but a husband’s always a husband.

HEIRE.

Very true, Madam Rundholmen; a husband’s a husband, and a widow’s a widow——

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

And business is business. Oh, when I think of all I’ve got to attend to, I don’t know whether I’m on my heels or my head. Every one wants to buy; but when it comes to paying, I’ve got to go in for summonses and executions, and Lord knows what. Upon my word, I’ll soon have to engage a lawyer all to myself.

HEIRE.

I’ll tell you what, Madam Rundholmen, you should retain Mr. Stensgård; he’s a bachelor.

MADAM RUNDHOLMEN.

Oh, how you do talk! I won’t listen to a word more.

[_Goes out to the right._

HEIRE.

A substantial woman, sir! Comfortable and well-preserved; no children up to date; money well invested. Education too; she’s widely read, sir.

STENSGÅRD.

Widely read, eh?

HEIRE.

Hee-hee; she ought to be; she had charge of Alm’s circulating library for a couple of years. But your head’s full of other things to-day, I daresay.

STENSGÅRD.

Not at all; I don’t even know that I shall vote. Who are you going to vote for, Mr. Heire?

HEIRE.

Haven’t got a vote, sir. There was only one kennel that would qualify in the market, and that you bought.

STENSGÅRD.

If you’re at a loss for a lodging, I’ll give it up to you.

HEIRE.

Hee-hee, you’re joking. Ah, youth, youth! What a pleasant humour it has! But now I must be off and have a look at the menagerie. I’m told your whole League is afoot. [_Sees_ FIELDBO, _who enters from the back._] Here’s the Doctor too! I suppose you have come on a scientific mission?

FIELDBO.

A scientific mission?

HEIRE.

Yes, to study the epidemic; you’ve heard of the virulent _rabies agitatoria_ that has broken out? God be with you, my dear young friends?

[_Goes out to the right._

STENSGÅRD.

Tell me quickly—have you seen the Chamberlain to-day?

FIELDBO.

Yes.

STENSGÅRD.

And what did he say?

FIELDBO.

What did he say?

STENSGÅRD.

Yes; you know I have written to him.

FIELDBO.

Have you? What did you write?

STENSGÅRD.

That I am still of the same mind about his daughter; that I want to talk the matter over with him; and that I propose to call on him to-morrow.

FIELDBO.

If I were you, I should at least defer my visit. It is the Chamberlain’s birthday to-morrow; a crowd of people will be there——

STENSGÅRD.

That’s all right; the more the better. I hold big cards in my hand, let me tell you.

FIELDBO.

And perhaps you have bluffed a little with your big cards?

STENSGÅRD.

How do you mean?

FIELDBO.

I mean you have perhaps embellished your declaration of love with a few little threats or so?

STENSGÅRD.

Fieldbo, you have seen the letter!

FIELDBO.

No, I assure you——

STENSGÅRD.

Well then, frankly—I _have_ threatened him.

FIELDBO.

Ah! Then I have, in a way, an answer to your letter.

STENSGÅRD.

An answer? Out with it, man!

FIELDBO.

[_Shows him a sealed paper._] Look here—the Chamberlain’s proxy.

STENSGÅRD.

And who does he vote for?

FIELDBO.

Not for you, at any rate.

STENSGÅRD.

For whom then? For whom?

FIELDBO.

For the Sheriff and the Provost.[19]

STENSGÅRD.

What! Not even for Lundestad?

FIELDBO.

No. And do you know why? Because Lundestad is going to propose you as his successor.

STENSGÅRD.

He dares to do this!

FIELDBO.

Yes, he does. And he added: “If you see Stensgård, you can tell him how I am voting; it will show him on what footing we stand.”

STENSGÅRD.

Good; since he will have it so!

FIELDBO.

Take care; it’s dangerous to tug at an old tower—it may come down on your head.

STENSGÅRD.

Oh, I have learnt wisdom in these two days.

FIELDBO.

Indeed? You’re not so wise but that you let old Lundestad lead you by the nose.

STENSGÅRD.

Do you think I haven’t seen through Lundestad? Do you think I don’t understand that he took me up because he thought I had won over the Chamberlain, and because he wanted to break up our League and keep Monsen out?

FIELDBO.

But now that he knows you haven’t won over the Chamberlain——

STENSGÅRD.

He has gone too far to draw back; and I’ve made good use of the time, and scattered announcements broadcast. Most of his supporters will abstain from voting; mine are all here——

FIELDBO.

It’s a big stride from the preliminary election to the final election.

STENSGÅRD.

Lundestad knows very well that if he fails me in the College of Electors, I’ll soon agitate him out of the Town Council.

FIELDBO.

Not a bad calculation. And to succeed in all this, you feel that you must strike root here more firmly than you have as yet done?

STENSGÅRD.

Yes, these people always demand material guarantees, community of interests——

FIELDBO.

Just so; and therefore Miss Bratsberg is to be sacrificed?

STENSGÅRD.

Sacrificed? If that were so, I should be no better than a scoundrel. But it will be for her happiness, that I’m convinced. What now? Fieldbo, why do you look like that? You have some underhand scheme of your own——

FIELDBO.

I?

STENSGÅRD.

Yes, you have! You are intriguing against me, behind my back. Why do you do that? Be open with me—will you?

FIELDBO.

Frankly, I won’t. You are so dangerous, so unscrupulous—well, so reckless at any rate, that one dare not be open with you. Whatever you know, you make use of without hesitation. But this I say to you as a friend: put Miss Bratsberg out of your head.

STENSGÅRD.