SOME OF THE CROWD. [_Hissing._] Ss! Ss! MANY VOICES. [_Drowning the others._] Hurrah for Lundestad! Long live old Lundestad! Hurrah! [_The_ CROWD _gradually disperses._ MONSEN, _his son_ BASTIAN, STENSGÅRD, _and_ ASLAKSEN _make their way forward through the throng._ MONSEN. 'Pon my soul, it’s time he was laid on the shelf! ASLAKSEN. It was the local situation[10] he was talking about! Ho-ho! MONSEN. He has made the same speech year after year as long as I can remember. Come over here. STENSGÅRD. No, no, not that way, Mr. Monsen. We are quite deserting your daughter. MONSEN. Oh, Ragna will find us again. BASTIAN. She’s all right; young Helle is with her. STENSGÅRD. Helle? MONSEN. Yes, Helle. But [_Nudging_ STENSGÅRD _familiarly_] you have _me_ here, you see, and the rest of us. Come on! Here we shall be out of the crowd, and can discuss more fully what—— [_Has meanwhile taken a seat beside the table on the left._ RINGDAL. [_Approaching._] Excuse me, Mr. Monsen—that table is reserved—— STENSGÅRD. Reserved? For whom? RINGDAL. For the Chamberlain’s party. STENSGÅRD. Oh, confound the Chamberlain’s party! There’s none of them here. RINGDAL. No, but we expect them every minute. STENSGÅRD. Then let them sit somewhere else. [_Takes a chair._ LUNDESTAD. [_Laying his hand on the chair._] No, the table is reserved, and there’s an end of it. MONSEN. [_Rising._] Come, Mr. Stensgård; there are just as good seats over there. [_Crosses to the right._] Waiter! Ha, no waiters either. The Committee should have seen to that in time. Oh, Aslaksen, just go in and get us four bottles of champagne. Order the dearest; tell them to put it down to Monsen! [ASLAKSEN _goes into the tent; the three others seat themselves._ LUNDESTAD. [_Goes quietly over to them and addresses_ STENSGÅRD.] I hope you won’t take it ill—— MONSEN. Take it ill! Good gracious, no! Not in the least. LUNDESTAD. [_Still to_ STENSGÅRD.] It’s not my doing; it’s the Committee that decided—— MONSEN. Of course. The Committee orders, and we must obey. LUNDESTAD.