Suddenly some one said: “Oh, look out there!” Several rose from the table and went to the windows. Against the dark fjord, that reflected the starry sky, a gleaming rocket rose into the air, while another was already raining down in fiery sparks of many colours. A new one rose, and in its first brilliant blaze Laura could be seen bare-headed and in her silk dress, and by her side the bailiff’s son.
There were several exclamations, and Ingeborg said: “Oh indeed! That was why Laura had a headache and had to go out!”
A fresh rocket blazed up and illuminated the two standing in the dark, just as Laura took hold of the young man’s arm to draw him a little way from the rocket. It was her first tender care for him. Then it was dark once more about them, while the fiery sparks rained down from the sky, reflected all the time in the dark, still fjord, into which they finally fell.
“Look!” cried those at the windows. “Oh, look!” “Oh, that was lovely!” “Both blue and red!” And all the time momentary flashes of light gleamed upon the two young people, who stood there and sent up bright messengers into the sky in the still evening.
When at last this was over the lamps in the hall were suddenly extinguished. A tittering was heard, and a few indignant ladies’ voices; but suddenly a curtain was drawn aside, and revealed a Norwegian mountain landscape illuminated by paraffin lamps.
“Goodness me!” thought Einar. “Are we going to have that old play that everybody knows?”
But all at once a young girl in Norwegian costume came forward and began to talk to an old man. It was—Einar gazed in perplexity—it was she! It was the doctor’s young daughter. That was why she had not been at the dinner, then. She had perhaps been rehearsing up to the last moment.
Sore and despondent and disturbed as Einar was already, this surprise threw him into the greatest agitation. His heart beat, and something warm began to run through his limbs. There she was! And how lovely she was in that dress! And gradually the oil-lamps turned into sunshine, and the ridiculous decorations into actual wood and mountain; and the good patriotic moral of the play acted upon him with a wonderful power.
But when the young girl went off the stage the piece seemed to lose its interest, and he turned to Fru Thora with the question whether there was to be dancing afterwards. “Yes,” she said. Good! He would ask the doctor whether his daughter might stay, if he promised to see her home. Perhaps it might turn out a wonderful evening for him yet.