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Olaf.
Sh, don't tell, auntie. I'm going to Uncle Johan; only down to the pier, you know;—just to say good-bye to him. Good-night, auntie!
[He runs out through the garden.
Lona.
No! stop! Olaf!—Olaf!
Johan Tönnesen, in travelling dress, with a bag over his shoulder, steals in by the door on the right.
Johan.
Lona!
Lona.
[Turning.] What! You here again?
Johan.
There are still a few minutes to spare. I must see her once more. We cannot part so.
Martha and Dina, both wearing cloaks, and the latter with a small travelling-bag in her hand, enter by the second door on the left.
Dina.
I must see him! I must see him!
Martha.
Yes, you shall go to him, Dina!
Dina.
There he is!
Johan.
Dina!
Dina.
Take me with you!
