We have had
pleasant evenings together. And as we sat then around my fat
tea-kettle and the good boy began to tell his stories, Ida's eyes
would be fixed on his face and would shine with pleasure--yes, and my
own old eyes, too, I think. Those were fine evenings! Why do we have
them no longer? Bah! They'll come back again! He'll bear defeat
quietly in his own way--a good, helpful way. No sensitiveness in him!
He really is at heart a fine fellow, and Ida and I could be happy with
him. And so, gentlemen and electors--but thunder and lightning! I
can't say all that to the voters! I'll say to them--
_Enter_ SENDEN.
SENDEN (_excitedly_).
Shameful, shameful! All is lost!
COLONEL.
Aha! (_Instantly draws himself up in military posture_.)
ADELAIDE } My presentiment! Father!
} [_Hurries to him_].
} (_together_).
}
IDA } Dear me!
SENDEN.
It was going splendidly. We had 47, the opponents 42 votes. Eight
votes were still to be cast. Two more for us and the day would have
been ours. The legally appointed moment for closing the ballot-box had
come. All looked at the clock and called for the dilatory voters. Then
there was a trampling of feet in the corridor. A group of eight
persons pushed noisily into the hall, at their head the vulgar
wine-merchant Piepenbrink, the same one who at the fete the other
day--
ADELAIDE.
We know; go on--
SENDEN.
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