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Signe (following him, with a cry). You will hit some one!
Hamar. No, I can aim too well for that. (Takes aim.)
Signe. Father! If they hear a shot from here now--
Tjaelde (starting up). The house belongs to my creditors now--and the revolver too!
Hamar. No, I am past taking orders from you now! (TJAELDE s.n.a.t.c.hes at the revolver, which goes off. SIGNE screams and rushes to her mother.
Outside, but this time immediately below the window, two cries are heard: "They are shooting at us! They are shooting at us!" Then the noise of breaking gla.s.s is heard, and stones fly in through the windows, followed by shouts and ribald laughter. VALBORG, who has rushed in from the outer office, stands in front of her father to protect him, her face turned to the window. A voice is heard: "Follow me, my lads!")
Hamar (pointing the revolver at the window). Yes, just you try it!
Mrs. Tjaelde and Signe. They are coming in here!
Valborg. You shan't shoot! (Stands between him and the window.)
Tjaelde. It is Sannaes with the police! (Cries of "Get back, there!" are heard; then a renewed uproar and a loud voice gradually dominating it; until at last the noise gradually lessens and ceases.)
Mrs. Tjaelde. Thank G.o.d! We were in great danger. (Sinks into a chair.
A pause.) Henning, where are you? (TJAELDE comes up behind her, and strokes her head with his hand, but turns away immediately to hide his deep emotion. A pause.)
Signe (on her knees by her mother's side). But won't they come back?
Hadn't we better go away from here?
Mrs. Tjaelde. Where to?
Signe (despairingly). What is to become of us?
Mrs. Tjaelde. What G.o.d wills. (A pause. Meanwhile HAMAR, un.o.bserved, has laid down the revolver on a chair and slipped out of the room by the door at the back.)
Valborg (softly). Signe, look! (SIGNE gets up, looks round the room, and gives a little cry.)
Mrs. Tjaelde. What is it?
Signe. I knew he would!
Mrs. Tjaelde (apprehensively). What is it?
Valborg. Every rich family has its tame lieutenant--and ours has just left us. That's all.
Mrs. Tjaelde (getting up). Signe, my child!
Signe (throwing herself into her arms). Mother!
Mrs. Tjaelde. There will be no more pretence now. Do not let us regret it!
Signe (in tears). Mother, mother!
Mrs. Tjaelde. Things are better as they are. Do you hear, dear? Don't cry!
Signe. I am not crying! but I feel so ashamed--oh, so ashamed!
Mrs. Tjaelde. It is I that ought to feel ashamed for never having had the courage to put a stop to what I saw was folly.
Signe (as before). Mother!
Mrs. Tjaelde. Soon there will be no one else left to desert us; and we shall have nothing left that any one can rob us of, either.
Valborg (comes forward evidently labouring under great emotion). Yes, there is, mother; _I_ mean to desert you.
Signe. You, Valborg? Desert us? You?
Valborg. Our home is going to be broken up, anyway. Each of us ought to shift for herself.
Signe. But what am I to do? I don't know how to do anything.
Mrs. Tjaelde (who has sunk back into her chair). What a bad mother I must have been, not to be able to keep my children together now!
Valborg (impetuously). You know we cannot stay together now! You know we cannot put up with living on the charity of our creditors; we have done that too long!
Mrs. Tjaelde. Hush, remember your father is in the room. (A pause.) What do you want to do, Valborg?
Valborg (after she has regained her self-control, quietly). I want to go into Mr. Holst's office, and learn commercial work--and keep myself.
Mrs. Tjaelde. You don't know what you are undertaking.
Valborg. But I know what I am leaving.
Signe. And I shall only be a burden to you, mother, because I can't do anything--
Valborg. You _can_! Go out and earn a living; even if it is only as a servant, what does that matter? Don't live on our creditors--not for a day, not for an hour!
Signe. And what is to become of mother, then?
Mrs. Tjaelde. Your mother will stay with your father.
Signe. But all alone? You, who are so ill?
Mrs. Tjaelde. No, not alone! Your father and I will be together.
(TJAELDE comes forward, kisses the hand she has stretched out to him, and falls on his knees by her chair, burying his face in her lap. She strokes his hair gently.) Forgive your father, children. That is the finest thing you can do. (TJAELDE gets up again and goes back to the other end of the room. A messenger comes in with a letter.)
Signe (turning round anxiously). It is a letter from him! I can't stand any more! I won't have it! (The messenger hands the letter to TJAELDE.)
Tjaelde. I accept no more letters.
Valborg (looking at the letter). It is from Sannaes?
Tjaelde. He, too!