you in your undertaking? Do you think they weren’t themselves hankering
after——?
BERNICK.
Impossible, I say; there is at least so much public spirit in our little
community——
HILMAR.
Here? Oh yes, you are an optimist, and judge others by yourself. But I
am a pretty keen observer, and I tell you there is not a person
here—except ourselves, of course—not _one_, I say, that holds high the
banner of the ideal. [_Up towards the back._] Ugh, there they are!
BERNICK.
Who?
HILMAR.
The two Americans. [_Looks out to the right._] And who is that with
them? Why, it’s the captain of the _Indian Girl_. Ugh!
BERNICK.
What can they want with _him_?
HILMAR.
Oh, it’s very appropriate company. They say he has been a slave-dealer
or a pirate; and who knows what that couple have turned their hands to
in all these years.
BERNICK.
I tell you, such innuendoes are utterly unjust.
HILMAR.
Yes, you are an optimist. But here we have them upon us again of course;
so I shall get away in time.
[_Goes towards the door on the left._
LONA HESSEL _enters from the right._
LONA.
What, Hilmar, am I driving you away?
HILMAR.
Not at all, not at all. I really oughtn’t to have been wasting time
here; I have something to say to Betty.
[_Goes out by the second door on the left._
BERNICK.
[_After a short pause._] Well, Lona?
LONA.
Well?
BERNICK.
What do you think of me to-day?
LONA.
The same as yesterday; a lie more or less——
BERNICK.
I must clear all this up. Where has Johan gone to?
LONA.
He will be here directly; he is talking to a man outside there.
BERNICK.
After what you heard yesterday, you can understand that my whole
position is ruined if the truth comes to light.
LONA.
I understand.
BERNICK.
Of course I need not tell you that _I_ was not guilty of the supposed
crime.
LONA.
Of course not. But who was the thief?
BERNICK.
There was no thief. There was no money stolen; not a halfpenny was
missing.
LONA.
What?
BERNICK.
Not a halfpenny, I say.
LONA.
But the rumour? How did that shameful rumour get abroad, that Johan——?
BERNICK.
Lona, I find I can talk to you as I can to no one else; I shall conceal
nothing from you. _I_ had my share in spreading the rumour.
LONA.
You! And you could do this wrong to the man who, for your sake——?
BERNICK.
You must not condemn me without remembering how matters stood at the
time. As I told you yesterday, I came home to find my mother involved in
a whole series of foolish undertakings. Disasters of various kinds
followed; all possible ill-luck seemed to crowd in upon us; our house
was on the verge of ruin. I was half reckless and half in despair. Lona,
I believe it was principally to deaden thought that I got into that
entanglement which ended in Johan’s going away.
LONA.
H’m——
BERNICK.
You can easily imagine that there were all sorts of rumours in the air
after you two had left. It was said that this was not his first
misdemeanour. Some said Dorf had received a large sum of money from him
to hold his tongue and keep out of the way; others declared she had got
the money. At the same time it got abroad that our house had difficulty
in meeting its engagements. What more natural than that the
scandal-mongers should put these two rumours together? Then, as Madam
Dorf remained here in unmistakable poverty, people began to say that he
had taken the money with him to America; and rumour made the sum larger
and larger every day.
LONA.
And you, Karsten——?
BERNICK.
I clutched at the rumour as a drowning man clutches at a straw.
LONA.
You helped to spread it?
BERNICK.
I did not contradict it. Our creditors were beginning to press upon us;
I had to quiet them—to prevent them from doubting the solidity of the
firm. I let it be thought that a momentary misfortune had befallen us,
but that if people only refrained from pressing us—if they would only
give us time—every one should be paid in full.
LONA.
And every one _was_ paid in full?
BERNICK.
Yes, Lona; that rumour saved our house and made me the man I am.
LONA.
A lie, then, has made you the man you are.
BERNICK.
Whom did it hurt, then? Johan intended never to return.
LONA.
You ask whom it hurt? Look into yourself and see if it has not hurt you.
BERNICK.
Look into any man you please, and you will find at least _one_ dark spot
that must be kept out of sight.
LONA.
And you call yourselves pillars of society!
BERNICK.
Society has none better.
LONA.
Then what does it matter whether such a society is supported or not?
What is it that passes current here? Lies and shams—nothing else. Here
are you, the first man in the town, prosperous, powerful, looked up to
by every one—you, who have set the brand of crime upon an innocent man.
BERNICK.
Do you think I do not feel deeply the wrong I have done him? Do you
think I am not prepared to atone for it?
LONA.
How? By speaking out?
BERNICK.
Can you ask me to do that?
LONA.
How else can you atone for such a wrong?
BERNICK.
I am rich, Lona; Johan may ask for what he pleases——
LONA.
Yes, offer him money, and you’ll see what he will answer.
BERNICK.
Do you know what he intends to do?
LONA.
No. Since yesterday he has said nothing to me. It seems as if all this
had suddenly made a full-grown man of him.
BERNICK.
I must speak to him.
LONA.
Then here he is.
JOHAN TÖNNESEN _enters from the right._
BERNICK.
[_Going towards him._] Johan——!
JOHAN.
[_Waving him off._] Let _me_ speak first. Yesterday morning I gave you
my word to be silent.
BERNICK.
You did.
JOHAN.
But I did not know then——
BERNICK.
Johan, let me in two words explain the circumstances——
JOHAN.
There is no necessity; I understand the circumstances very well. Your
house was in a difficult position; and I was far away, and you had my
unprotected name and fame to do what you liked with——Well, I don’t blame
you so much for it; we were young and thoughtless in those days. But now
I need the truth, and now you must speak out.
BERNICK.
And just at this moment I require all my moral authority, and therefore
I _cannot_ speak out.
JOHAN.
I don’t care so much about the falsehoods you have trumped up at my
expense; it is the other thing that you must take upon your own
shoulders. Dina shall be my wife, and I will live here, here in this
town, along with her.
LONA.
You will?
BERNICK.
With Dina! As your wife? Here, in this town?
JOHAN.
Yes, just here; I will stay here to outface all these liars and
backbiters. And that I may win her, you must set me free.
BERNICK.
Have you considered that, if I plead guilty to the one thing, I plead
guilty to the other as well? I can prove by our books, you say, that
there was no embezzlement at all? But I cannot; our books were not so
accurately kept in those days. And even if I could, what would be gained
by it? Should I not figure, at best, as the man who, having once saved
himself by falsehood, had let that falsehood, and all its consequences,
run on for fifteen years, without taking a single step to retract it?
You have forgotten what our society is, or you would know that that
would crush me to the very dust.
JOHAN.
I can only repeat that I shall make Madam Dorf’s daughter my wife, and
live with her here, in this town.
BERNICK.
[_Wipes the perspiration from his forehead._] Hear me, Johan—and you,
too, Lona. My position at this moment is not an ordinary one. I am so
situated, that if you strike this blow you destroy me utterly, and not
only me, but also a great and golden future for the community which was,
after all, the home of your childhood.
JOHAN.
And if I do not strike the blow, I destroy all that makes my own future
of value to me.
LONA.
Go on, Karsten.
BERNICK.
Then listen. Everything turns upon this question of the railway, and
that is not so simple as you think. Of course you have heard that last
year there was some talk of a coast-line? It had many powerful advocates
in the district, and especially in the press; but I succeeded in
blocking it, because it would have injured our steamboat trade along the
coast.
LONA.
Have you an interest in this steamboat trade?
BERNICK.
Yes; but no one dared to impugn my motives on that account. My spotless
name was an ample safeguard. For that matter, I could have borne the
loss; but the town could not. Then the inland line was determined on. As
soon as the route was fixed, I assured myself secretly that a branch
connection between it and the town was practicable.
LONA.
Why secretly, Karsten?
BERNICK.
Have you heard any talk of the great buying-up of forests, mines, and
water-power?
JOHAN.
Yes, for a company in some other town——
BERNICK.
As these properties now lie, they are as good as worthless to their
scattered owners; so they have sold comparatively cheap. If the
purchaser had waited until the branch line was known to be in
contemplation, the vendors would have demanded fancy prices.
LONA.
Very likely; but what then?
BERNICK.
Now comes the point which may or may not be interpreted favourably—a
risk which no man in our community could afford to incur, unless he had
a spotless and honoured name to rely upon.
LONA.
Well?
BERNICK.
It is I who have bought up the whole.
LONA.
You?
JOHAN.
On your own account?
BERNICK.
On my own account. If the branch line is made, I am a millionaire; if
not, I am ruined.
LONA.
This is a great risk, Karsten.
BERNICK.
I have staked all I possess upon the throw.
LONA.
I was not thinking of the money; but when it comes out that——
BERNICK.
Yes, that is the great point. With the unblemished reputation I have
hitherto borne, I can take the whole affair upon my shoulders and carry
it through, saying to my fellow citizens, “See, this I have ventured for
the good of the community!”
LONA.
Of the community?
BERNICK.
Yes; and not a soul will question my motives.
LONA.
Then there are some people, it seems, who have acted more openly than
you, with no private interests, no ulterior designs.
BERNICK.
Who?
LONA.
Why, Rummel and Sandstad and Vigeland, of course.
BERNICK.
To make sure of their support, I had to let them into the secret.
LONA.
And they?
BERNICK.
They have stipulated for a fifth of the profits.
LONA.
Oh, these pillars of society!
BERNICK.
Can you not see that it is society itself that compels us to adopt these
indirect courses? What would have happened if I had not acted secretly?
Why, every one would have thrown himself into the undertaking, and the
whole thing would have been broken up, frittered away, bungled, and
ruined. There is not a single man here, except myself, that knows how to
organise an enormous concern such as this will become; in this country
the men of real business ability are almost all of foreign descent. That
is why my conscience acquits me in this matter. Only in my hands can all
this property be of permanent benefit to the many whose subsistence will
depend upon it.
LONA.
I believe you are right there, Karsten.
JOHAN.
But I know nothing of “the many,” and my life’s happiness is at stake.
BERNICK.
The welfare of your native place is no less at stake. If things come to
the surface which cast a slur upon my past life, all my opponents will
join forces and overwhelm me. In our society a boyish error is never
effaced. People will scrutinise my whole career, will rake up a thousand
trifling incidents and interpret and comment upon them in the light of
these disclosures. They will crush me beneath the weight of rumours and
slanders. I shall have to retire from the railway board; and if I take
my hand away, the whole thing will fall to pieces, and I shall have to
face not only ruin but social extinction.
LONA.
Johan, after what you have heard, you must go away, and say nothing.
BERNICK.
Yes, yes, Johan, you must!
JOHAN.
Yes, I will go away, and say nothing; but I will come back again, and
then I will speak.
BERNICK.
Remain over there, Johan; be silent, and I am ready to share with you——
JOHAN.
Keep your money, and give me back my good name.
BERNICK.
And sacrifice my own!
JOHAN.
You and your “community” must settle that between you. I must and will
make Dina my wife. So I shall sail to-morrow in the _Indian Girl_——
BERNICK.
In the _Indian Girl_?
JOHAN.
Yes; the captain has promised to take me. I shall go across, I tell you,
sell my farm, and settle up my affairs. In two months I shall be back
again.
BERNICK.
And then you will tell all?
JOHAN.
Then the wrong-doer must take up his own burden.
BERNICK.
Do you forget that I must also take upon me wrong-doing of which I was
_not_ guilty?
JOHAN.
Who was it that, fifteen years ago, reaped the benefit of that shameful
rumour?
BERNICK.
You drive me to desperation! But if you speak, I will deny everything! I
will say it is all a conspiracy against me; a piece of revenge; that you
have come here to blackmail me!
LONA.
Shame on you, Karsten!
BERNICK.
I am desperate, I tell you; I am fighting for my life. I will deny
everything, everything!
JOHAN.
I have your two letters. I found them in my box among my other papers. I
read them through this morning; they are plain enough.
BERNICK.
And you will produce them?
JOHAN.
If you force me to.
BERNICK.
And in two months you will be here again?
JOHAN.
I hope so. The wind is fair. In three weeks I shall be in New York—if
the _Indian Girl_ doesn’t go to the bottom.
BERNICK.
[_Starting._] Go to the bottom? Why should the _Indian Girl_ go to the
bottom?
JOHAN.
That’s just what I say.
BERNICK.
[_Almost inaudibly._] Go to the bottom?
JOHAN.
Well, Bernick, now you know what you have to expect; you must do what
you can in the mean-time. Good-bye! Give my love to Betty, though she
certainly has not received me in a very sisterly fashion. But Martha I
must see. She must tell Dina—she must promise me——
[_He goes out by the second door on the left._
BERNICK.
[_To himself._] The _Indian Girl_——? [_Quickly._] Lona, you must prevent
this!
LONA.
You see yourself, Karsten—I have lost all power over him.
[_She follows_ JOHAN _into the room on the left._
BERNICK.
[_In unquiet thought._] Go to the bottom——?
AUNE _enters from the right._
AUNE.
Asking your pardon, Consul, might I speak to you——?
BERNICK.
[_Turns angrily._] What do you want?
AUNE.
I wanted, if I might, to ask you a question, Consul Bernick.
BERNICK.
Well, well; be quick. What is it about?
AUNE.
I wanted to know if you’re still determined—firmly determined—to turn me
adrift if the _Indian Girl_ should not be ready for sea to-morrow?
BERNICK.
What now? The ship _will_ be ready for sea.
AUNE.
Yes—she will. But supposing as she wasn’t—should I have to go?
BERNICK.
Why ask such useless questions?
AUNE.
I want to make quite sure, Consul. Just answer me: should I have to go?
BERNICK.
Am I in the habit of changing my mind?
AUNE.
Then to-morrow I should have lost the place that rightly belongs to me
in my home and family—lost my influence among the workmen—lost all my
chances of helping them as are lowly and down-trodden?
BERNICK.
We have discussed that point long ago, Aune.
AUNE.
Then the Indian Girl must sail.
[_A short pause._
BERNICK.
Listen: I cannot look after everything myself, and be responsible for
everything. I suppose you are prepared to assure me that the repairs are
thoroughly carried out?
AUNE.
It was very short time you gave me, Consul.
BERNICK.
But the repairs are all right, you say?
AUNE.
The weather is fine, and it is midsummer.
[_Another silence._
BERNICK.
Have you anything more to say to me?
AUNE.
I don’t know as there’s aught else, Consul.
BERNICK.
Then—the _Indian Girl_ sails——
AUNE.
To-morrow?
BERNICK.
Yes.
AUNE.
Very well. [_He bows and goes out._
[BERNICK _stands for a moment irresolute; then he goes quickly
towards the door as if to call_ AUNE _back, but stops and
stands hesitating with his hand on the knob. At that moment
the door is opened from outside, and_ KRAP _enters._
KRAP.
[_Speaking low._] Aha, he has been here. Has he confessed?
BERNICK.
H’m——; have you discovered anything?
KRAP.
What need was there? Did you not see the evil conscience looking out of
his very eyes?
BERNICK.
Oh, nonsense;—no one can see such things. I asked if you had discovered
anything?
KRAP.
I couldn’t get at it; I was too late; they were busy hauling the ship
out of dock. But this very haste proves plainly that——
BERNICK.
It proves nothing. The inspection has taken place, then?
KRAP.
Of course; but——
BERNICK.
There you see! And they have, of course, found nothing to complain of?
KRAP.
Consul, you know very well how such inspections are conducted,
especially in a yard that has such a name as ours.
BERNICK.
No matter; it relieves us of all reproach.
KRAP.
Could you really not read in Aune’s face, Consul——?
BERNICK.
Aune has entirely satisfied me, I tell you.
KRAP.
And I tell you I am morally convinced——
BERNICK.
What does this mean, Mr. Krap? I know very well that you have a grudge
against the man; but if you want to attack him, you should choose some
other opportunity. You know how essential it is for me—or rather for the
owners—that the _Indian Girl_ should sail to-morrow.
KRAP.
Very well; so be it; but if ever we hear of _that_ ship again—h’m!
VIGELAND _enters from the right._
VIGELAND.
How do you do, Consul? Have you a moment to spare?
BERNICK.
At your service, Mr. Vigeland.
VIGELAND.
I only want to know if you agree with me that the _Palm Tree_ ought to
sail to-morrow?
BERNICK.
Yes—I thought that was settled.
VIGELAND.
But the captain has just come to tell me that the storm-signals have
been hoisted.
KRAP.
The barometer has fallen rapidly since this morning.
BERNICK.
Indeed? Is a storm threatening?
VIGELAND.
A stiff breeze at any rate; but not a contrary wind; quite the reverse——
BERNICK.
H’m; what do you say, then?
VIGELAND.
I say, as I said to the captain, that the _Palm Tree_ is in the hands of
Providence. And besides, she is only going over the North Sea to begin
with; and freights are pretty high in England just now, so that——
BERNICK.
Yes, it would probably mean a loss if we delayed.
VIGELAND.
The vessel is soundly built, you know, and fully insured too. I can tell
you it’s another matter with the _Indian Girl_——
BERNICK.
What do you mean?
VIGELAND.
Why, she is to sail to-morrow too.
BERNICK.
Yes, the owners hurried us on, and besides——
VIGELAND.
Well, if that old hulk can venture out—and with such a crew into the
bargain—it would be a shame if we couldn’t——
BERNICK.
Well well; I suppose you have the ship’s papers with you.
VIGELAND.
Yes, here they are.
BERNICK.
Good; then perhaps you will go with Mr. Krap——
KRAP.
This way, please; we shall soon put them in order.
VIGELAND.
Thanks.—And the result we will leave in the hands of Omnipotence,
Consul.
[_He goes with_ KRAP _into the foremost room on the left._
DOCTOR RÖRLUND _comes through the garden._
RÖRLUND.
What! You at home at this time of the day, Consul!
BERNICK.
[_Absently._] As you see!
RÖRLUND.
I looked in to see your wife. I thought she might need a word of
consolation.
BERNICK.
I daresay she does. But I, too, should be glad of a word with you.
RÖRLUND.
With pleasure, Consul. But what is the matter with you? You look quite
pale and upset.
BERNICK.
Indeed? Do I? Well, can you wonder at it, with such a host of things
crowding upon me all at once. Besides all my usual business, I have this
affair of the railway——Give me your attention for a moment, Doctor; let
me ask you a question.
RÖRLUND.
By all means, Consul.
BERNICK.
A thought has occurred to me lately: When one stands on the threshold of
a great undertaking, that is to promote the welfare of thousands,—if a
single sacrifice should be demanded——?
RÖRLUND.
How do you mean?
BERNICK.
Take, for example, a man who is starting a large manufactory. He knows
very well—for all experience has taught him—that sooner or later, in the
working of that manufactory, human life will be lost.
RÖRLUND.
Yes, it is only too probable.
BERNICK.
Or suppose he is about to open a mine. He takes into his service both
fathers of families and young men in the heyday of life. May it not be
predicted with certainty that some will perish in the undertaking?
RÖRLUND.
Unhappily there can be little doubt of that.
BERNICK.
Well; such a man, then, knows beforehand that his enterprise will
undoubtedly, some time or other, lead to the loss of life. But the
undertaking is for the greater good of the greater number; for every
life it costs, it will, with equal certainty, promote the welfare of
many hundreds.
RÖRLUND.
Ah, you are thinking of the railway—of all the dangerous tunnellings,
and blastings, and that sort of thing——
BERNICK.
Yes—yes, of course—I am thinking of the railway. And, besides, the
railway will bring with it both manufactories and mines. But don’t you
think that——
RÖRLUND.
My dear Consul, you are almost too scrupulous. If you place the affair
in the hands of Providence——
BERNICK.
Yes; yes, of course; Providence——
RÖRLUND.
——you can have nothing to reproach yourself with. Go on and prosper with
the railway.
BERNICK.
Yes, but let us take a peculiar case. Let us suppose a blasting has to
be made at a dangerous place; and unless it is carried out, the railway
will come to a standstill. Suppose the engineer knows that it will cost
the life of the workman who fires the fuse; but fired it must be, and it
is the engineer’s duty to send a workman to do it.
RÖRLUND.
H’m——
BERNICK.
I know what you will say: It would be heroic if the engineer himself
took the match and went and fired the fuse. But no one does such things.
So he must sacrifice a workman.
RÖRLUND.
No engineer among us would ever do that.
BERNICK.
No engineer in the great nations would think twice about doing it.
RÖRLUND.
In the great nations? No, I daresay not. In those corrupt and
unscrupulous communities——
BERNICK.
Oh, those communities have their good points too.
RÖRLUND.
Can you say that—you, who yourself——?
BERNICK.
In the great nations one has at least elbow-room for useful enterprise.
There, men have the courage to sacrifice something for a great cause.
But here, one is hampered by all sorts of petty considerations.
RÖRLUND.
Is a human life a petty consideration?
BERNICK.
When that human life is a menace to the welfare of thousands.
RÖRLUND.
But you are putting quite inconceivable cases, Consul! I don’t
understand you to-day. And then you refer me to the great communities.
Yes, _there_—what does a human life count for there? They think no more
of staking life than of staking capital. But we, I hope, look at things
from an entirely different moral standpoint. Think of our exemplary
shipowners! Name me a single merchant here among us who, for the sake of
paltry profit, would sacrifice one human life! And then think of those
scoundrels in the great communities who enrich themselves by sending out
one unseaworthy ship after another——
BERNICK.
I am not speaking of unseaworthy ships!
RÖRLUND.
But I am, Consul.
BERNICK.
Yes, but to what purpose? It has nothing to do with the question.—Oh,
these little craven qualms of conscience! If a general among us were to
lead his troops under fire, and get some of them shot, he would never
sleep o’ nights after it. Elsewhere it is very different. You should
hear what he says——
[_Pointing to the door on the left._
RÖRLUND.
He? Who? The American——?
BERNICK.
Of course. You should hear how people in America——
RÖRLUND.
Is he in there? Why did you not tell me? I shall go at once——
BERNICK.
It’s of no use. You will make no impression on him.
RÖRLUND.
That we shall see. Ah, here he is.
JOHAN TÖNNESEN _comes from the room on the left._
JOHAN.
[_Speaking through the open doorway._] Yes, yes, Dina, so be it; but
don’t think that I shall give you up. I shall return, and things will
come all right between us.
RÖRLUND.
May I ask what you mean by these words? What is it you want?
JOHAN.
I want the girl to whom you yesterday traduced me, to be my wife.
RÖRLUND.
Your——? Can you imagine that——?
JOHAN.
She _shall_ be my wife.
RÖRLUND.
Well, then, you shall hear——[_Goes to the half-open door._] Mrs.
Bernick, will you be kind enough to be a witness——And you too, Miss
Martha. And bring Dina with you. [_Sees_ LONA.] Ah, are _you_ here, too?
LONA.
[_In the doorway._] Shall I come?
RÖRLUND.
As many as will—the more the better.
BERNICK.
What are you going to do?
LONA, MRS. BERNICK, MARTHA, DINA, _and_ HILMAR TÖNNESEN
_come out of the room on the left._
MRS. BERNICK.
Doctor, nothing I can say will stop him from——
RÖRLUND.
I shall stop him, Mrs. Bernick.—Dina, you are a thoughtless girl. But I
do not blame you very much. You have stood here too long without the
moral support that should have sustained you. I blame myself for not
having given you that support sooner.
DINA.
You must not speak now!
MRS. BERNICK.
What is all this?
RÖRLUND.