BORKMAN.
Oh, we are all of us run over, sometime or other in life. The thing is to jump up again, and let no one see you are hurt.
FOLDAL.
That is a profound saying, John Gabriel. But I can easily tell you my story out here, in a few words.
BORKMAN.
[More mildly.] Yes, please do, Vilhelm.
FOLDAL.
Well, now you shall hear! Only think, when I got home this evening after I had been with you, what did I find but a letter.
Can you guess who it was from?
BORKMAN.
Possibly from your little Frida?
FOLDAL.
Precisely! Think of your hitting on it at once! Yes, it was a long letter from Frida. A footman had brought it. And can you imagine what was in it?
BORKMAN.
Perhaps it was to say good-bye to her mother and you?
FOLDAL.
Exactly! How good you are at guessing, John Gabriel! Yes, she tells me that Mrs. Wilton has taken such a fancy to her, and she is to go abroad with her and study music. And Mrs. Wilton has engaged a first-rate teacher who is to accompany them on the journey--and to read with Frida. For unfortunately she has been a good deal neglected in some branches, you see.
BORKMAN.
[Shaken with inward laughter.] Of course, of course--I see it all quite clearly, Vilhelm.
FOLDAL.
[Eagerly continuing.] And only think, she knew nothing about the arrangement until this evening; at that party, you know, h"m!
And yet she found time to write to me. And the letter is such a beautiful one--so warm and affectionate, I a.s.sure you. There is not a trace of contempt for her father in it. And then what a delicate thought it was to say good-bye to us by letter--before she started. [Laughing.] But of course I can"t let her go like that.
BORKMAN.
[Looks inquiringly at him.] How so?
FOLDAL.
She tells me that they start early to-morrow morning; quite early.
BORKMAN.
Oh indeed--to-morrow? Does she tell you that?
FOLDAL.
[Laughing and rubbing his hands.] Yes; but I know a trick worth two of that, you see! I am going straight up to Mrs. Wilton"s----
BORKMAN.
This evening?
FOLDAL.
Oh, it"s not so very late yet. And even if the house is shut up, I shall ring; without hesitation. For I must and will see Frida before she starts. Good-night, good-night!
[Makes a movement to go.
BORKMAN.
Stop a moment, my poor Vilhelm; you may spare yourself that heavy bit of road.
FOLDAL.
Oh, you are thinking of my ankle----
BORKMAN.
Yes; and in any case you won"t get in at Mrs. Wilton"s.
FOLDAL.
Yes, indeed I will. I"ll go on ringing and knocking till some one comes and lets me in. For I must and will see Frida.
ELLA RENTHEIM.
Your daughter has gone already, Mr. Foldal.
FOLDAL.
[Stands as though thunderstruck.] Has Frida gone already! Are you quite sure? Who told you?
BORKMAN.
We had it from her future teacher.
FOLDAL.
Indeed? And who is he?
BORKMAN.
A certain Mr. Erhart Borkman.
FOLDAL.
[Beaming with joy.] Your son, John Gabriel? Is he going with them?
BORKMAN.
Yes; it is he that is to help Mrs. Wilton with little Frida"s education.
FOLDAL.
Oh, Heaven be praised! Then the child is in the best of hands.
But is it quite certain that they have started with her already?
BORKMAN.
They took her away in that sledge which ran you over in the road.
FOLDAL.
[Clasping his hands.] To think that my little Frida was in that magnificent sledge!
BORKMAN.
[Nodding.] Yes, yes, Vilhelm, your daughter has come to drive in her carriage. And Master Erhart, too. Tell me, did you notice the silver bells?
FOLDAL.
Yes, indeed. Silver bells did you say? Were they silver? Real, genuine silver bells?