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. I cannot. I must extricate myself from these sordid surroundings. I can’t go on living in this hugger-mugger way. Here have I got to be hail-fellow-well-met with Dick, Tom, and Harry; to whisper in corners with them, to hob-nob with them, to laugh at their beery witticisms; to be hand in glove with hobbledehoys and unlicked cubs. How can I keep my love of the People untarnished in the midst of all this? I feel as if all the electricity went out of my words. I have no elbow-room, no fresh air to breathe. Oh, a longing comes over me at times for exquisite women! I want something that brings beauty with it! I lie here in a sort of turbid eddy, while out there the clear blue current sweeps past me——But what can _you_ understand of all this! LUNDESTAD. [_Enters from the back._] Ah, here we are. Good-morning, gentlemen. STENSGÅRD. I have news for you, Mr. Lundestad! Do you know who the Chamberlain is voting for? FIELDBO. Silence! It’s dishonourable of you. STENSGÅRD. What do I care? He is voting for the Sheriff and the Provost. LUNDESTAD. Oh, that was to be expected. You went and ruined your chances with him—though I implored you to play your cards neatly.