MRS. ALVING. Later on I shall send you a Power of Attorney to settle
everything as you please.
MANDERS. That I will very readily undertake. The original destination of
the endowment must now be completely changed, alas!
MRS. ALVING. Of course it must.
MANDERS. I think, first of all, I shall arrange that the Solvik property
shall pass to the parish. The land is by no means without value. It can
always be turned to account for some purpose or other. And the interest
of the money in the Bank I could, perhaps, best apply for the benefit of
some undertaking of acknowledged value to the town.
MRS. ALVING. Do just as you please. The whole matter is now completely
indifferent to me.
ENGSTRAND. Give a thought to my Sailors' Home, your Reverence.
MANDERS. Upon my word, that is not a bad suggestion. That must be
considered.
ENGSTRAND. Oh, devil take considering--Lord forgive me!
MANDERS. [With a sigh.] And unfortunately I cannot tell how long I shall
be able to retain control of these things--whether public opinion may
not compel me to retire. It entirely depends upon the result of the
official inquiry into the fire--
MRS. ALVING. What are you talking about?
MANDERS. And the result can by no means be foretold.
ENGSTRAND. [Comes close to him.] Ay, but it can though. For here stands
old Jacob Engstrand.
MANDERS. Well well, but--?
ENGSTRAND. [More softy.] And Jacob Engstrand isn't the man to desert a
noble benefactor in the hour of need, as the saying goes.
MANDERS. Yes, but my good fellow--how--?
ENGSTRAND. Jacob Engstrand may be likened to a sort of a guardian angel,
he may, your Reverence.
MANDERS. No, no; I really cannot accept that.
ENGSTRAND. Oh, that'll be the way of it, all the same. I know a man as
has taken others' sins upon himself before now, I do.
MANDERS. Jacob! [Wrings his hand.] Yours is a rare nature. Well,
you shall be helped with your Sailors' Home. That you may rely upon.
[ENGSTRAND tries to thank him, but cannot for emotion.]
MANDERS. [Hangs his travelling-bag over his shoulder.] And now let us
set out. We two will go together.
ENGSTRAND. [At the dining-room door, softly to REGINA.] You come along
too, my lass. You shall live as snug as the yolk in an egg.
REGINA. [Tosses her head.] _Merci_! [She goes out into the hall and
fetches MANDERS' overcoat.]
MANDERS. Good-bye, Mrs. Alving! and may the spirit of Law and Order
descend upon this house, and that quickly.
MRS. ALVING. Good-bye, Pastor Manders. [She goes up towards the
conservatory, as she sees OSWALD coming in through the garden door.]
ENGSTRAND. [While he and REGINA help MANDERS to get his coat on.]
Good-bye, my child. And if any trouble should come to you, you know
where Jacob Engstrand is to be found. [Softly.] Little Harbour Street,
h'm--! [To MRS. ALVING and OSWALD.] And the refuge for wandering
mariners shall be called "Chamberlain Alving's Home," that it shall! And
if so be as I'm spared to carry on that house in my own way, I make so
bold as to promise that it shall be worthy of the Chamberlain's memory.
MANDERS. [In the doorway.] H'm--h'm!--Come along, my dear Engstrand.
Good-bye! Good-bye! [He and ENGSTRAND go out through the hall.]
OSWALD. [Goes towards the table.] What house was he talking about?
MRS. ALVING. Oh, a kind of Home that he and Pastor Manders want to set
up.
OSWALD. It will burn down like the other.
MRS. ALVING. What makes you think so?
OSWALD. Everything will burn. All that recalls father's memory is
doomed. Here am I, too, burning down. [REGINA starts and looks at him.]
MRS. ALVING. Oswald! You oughtn't to have remained so long down there,
my poor boy.
OSWALD. [Sits down by the table.] I almost think you are right.
MRS. ALVING. Let me dry your face, Oswald; you are quite wet. [She dries
his face with her pocket-handkerchief.]
OSWALD. [Stares indifferently in front of him.] Thanks, mother.
MRS. ALVING. Are you not tired, Oswald? Should you like to sleep?
OSWALD. [Nervously.] No, no--not to sleep! I never sleep. I only pretend
to. [Sadly.] That will come soon enough.
MRS. ALVING. [Looking sorrowfully at him.] Yes, you really are ill, my
blessed boy.
REGINA. [Eagerly.] Is Mr. Alving ill?