[_Returning by the left._] Madam Rundholmen stands treat herself. She says she has the best right to. STENSGÅRD. [_Struck by an idea._] Madam Rundholmen—has the best right to——! LUNDESTAD. What? STENSGÅRD. The game is not lost, Mr. Lundestad! [_Sits at the right-hand table and writes._ LUNDESTAD. [_In a low voice._] Oh, Aslaksen—can you get something into your next paper for me? ASLAKSEN. Of course I can. Is it libellous? LUNDESTAD. No, certainly not! ASLAKSEN. Well, never mind; I’ll take it all the same. LUNDESTAD. It is my political last will and testament; I shall write it to-night. A MAID-SERVANT. [_Enters from the left._] The punch, with Madam Rundholmen’s compliments. ASLAKSEN. Hurrah! Now there’s some life in the local situation. [_He places the punch-bowl on the middle table, serves the others, and drinks freely himself during the following scene._ BASTIAN MONSEN _has meanwhile entered from the right._ BASTIAN. [_Softly._] You won’t forget my letter? ASLAKSEN. Don’t be afraid. [_Taps his breast pocket._] I have it here. BASTIAN. You’ll deliver it as soon as you can—when you see she’s disengaged, you understand. ASLAKSEN. I understand. [_Calls._] Come, now, the glasses are filled. BASTIAN. You shan’t do it for nothing, I promise you. ASLAKSEN. All right, all right. [_To the servant._] A lemon, Karen—quick as the wind! [BASTIAN _retires._ STENSGÅRD. A word, Aslaksen; shall you be passing here to-morrow evening? ASLAKSEN. To-morrow evening? I can, if you like. STENSGÅRD. Then you might look in and give Madam Rundholmen this letter. ASLAKSEN. From you? STENSGÅRD. Yes. Put it in your pocket. There now. To-morrow evening, then? ASLAKSEN. All right; trust to me. [_The servant brings the lemon;_ STENSGÅRD _goes towards the window._ BASTIAN. Well—have you spoken to Madam Rundholmen? STENSGÅRD. Spoken? Oh yes, I said a word or two—— BASTIAN. And what do you think? STENSGÅRD. Oh—well—we were interrupted. I can’t say anything definite.