A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P R S T U V W X Z

Stephen Archer and Other Tales

G >> George MacDonald >> Stephen Archer and Other Tales




_Enter_ COL. G. _and seizes his arm_.

_Ger._ (_with a cry_). You've killed my Psyche! (_Goes to the clay,
and lifts the cloth_.) There's the bullet-hole through her heart!

_Col. G._ It might have been worse, sir.

_Ger._ Worse! I've killed her! See where she flies! She's gone! She's
gone! (_Bursts into tears_. COL. G. _leads him to the couch_.) Thank
you, William. I couldn't help it. _That_ man was with her. I meant it
for myself.

_Col. G._ Who did you say was with her?

_Ger._ You mustn't heed what I say. I am mad. (_A knock. He starts
up_.) Don't let them in, William. I shall rave if you do.

COL. G. _catches up the pistols and exit hurriedly_. GER. _throws
himself on the couch_.

_Re-enter_ COL. G.

_Col. G._ (_aside_). He is in love with her! Everything proves it. My
boy! My boy!

_Ger._ Father! father!--Oh, William! I was dreaming, and took you for
my father! I _must_ die, William--somehow. There must be some way out
of this! The doors can't _all_ be locked.

_Col. G._ There's generally a chance to be had, sir. There's always a
right and a wrong fighting it out somewhere. There's Garibaldi in the
field again! Die by the hand of an enemy--if you _will_ die, sir.

_Ger._ (_smiling_) That I couldn't, William: the man that killed me
would be my best friend.--Yes--Garibaldi!--I don't deserve it, though:
he fights for his country; I should fight but for death. Only a man
doesn't stop when he dies--does he, William?

_Col. G._ I trust not, sir. But he may hope to be quieter--that is, if
he dies honestly. It's grand for a soldier! He sweeps on the roaring
billows of war into a soundless haven! Think of that, sir!

_Ger._ Why, William! how you talk!--Yes! it would be grand! On the
crest of the war-cataract--heading a cavalry charge!--Tomorrow,
William. I shall be getting stronger all the way. We'll start
to-morrow.

_Col. G._ Where for, sir?

_Ger._ For Italy--for Garibaldi. You'll go with me?

_Col. G._ To the death, sir.

_Ger._ Yes; that's it--that's where I'm going. But not to-day. Look at
my arm: it wouldn't kill a rat!--You saved my life, but I'm not
grateful. If I was dead, I might be watching her--out of the lovely
silence!--My poor Psyche!

_Col. G._ She's none the worse, sir. The pistol didn't go off.

_Ger._ Ah!--She ought to have fallen to pieces--long ago! You've been
seeking to keep her shroud wet. But it's no matter. Let her go. Earth
to earth, and dust to dust!--the law of Nature--and Art too.

_Exit into the house_.

_Col. G._ (_following him_) I mustn't lose sight of him.--Here he
comes again, thank God!

_Catches up a coat, and begins brushing it_.

_Re-enter_ GER.

_Ger._ I don't like to see you doing that.

_Col. G._ Why shouldn't I serve my own--superior, sir? Anything's
better than serving yourself. And that's what every one does who won't
serve other people.

_Ger._ You are right. And it's so cheap.

_Col. G._ And so nasty!

_Ger._ Right again, William!--Right indeed!--You're a gentleman! If
there's anything I could help you in--anything gone wrong,--any
friends offended--I'm not altogether without influence.

_Col. G._ (_aside_) He will vanquish me with my own weapons!

_Ger._ But you _will_ go to Garibaldi with me?

_Col. G._ I will, sir.

_Ger._ And ride by my side?

_Col. G._ Of course.

_Ger._ If you ride by me, you will have to ride far.

_Col. G._ I know, sir. But if you would be fit for fighting, you must
come and have something to eat and drink.

_Ger._ All right. A soldier must obey: I shall begin by obeying you.
Only mind you keep up with me. _Exit, leaning on_ COL. G.

_Enter_ THOMAS.

_Tho._ Th' dule a mon be yere! Aw're main troubled to get shut ov
they reyvers! Aw'm olez i' trouble! Mine's a gradely yed! it
be!--Hoy!--Nobory yere! 'T seems to me, honest men be scarce i'
Lonnon. Aw'm beawn to believe nobory but mo own heighes, and mo own
oud lass. _Exit_.

_Re-enter_ GERVAISE, _followed by_ COL. G.

_Ger._ No, William; I won't lie down. I feel much better. Let's have a
bout with the foils.

_Col. G._ Very well, sir. (_Aside_.) A little of that will go far, I
know. (_Gets down the foils_.)

_Ger._ And, William, you must set a block up here. I shall have a cut
or two at it to-morrow. There's a good cavalry weapon up there--next
that cast of Davis's arm.

_Col. G._ Suppose your father were to arrive just after you had
started!

_Ger._ I shouldn't mind. I don't want to see him yet. I'm such a poor
creature! The heart seems to have gone out of me. You see, William--

_Enter_ MRS. CLIFFORD.

_Ger._ Ah! How do you do, aunt?

_Mrs. C._ What's this nonsense about Garibaldi, Arthur?

_Ger._ Who told you?

_Mrs. C._ You don't mean it's true?

_Ger._ Quite true, aunt.

_Mrs. C._ Really, Arthur, you are more of a scatterbrain than I
took you for!

_Ger._ Don't say that, aunt. I only take after my father.

_Mrs. C._ Don't talk to me of your father! I have no patience with
him. A careless hard-hearted fellow--not worthy the name of a father!
(_She glares at_ SIR WALTER.)

_Ger._ You may go, William. (COL. G. _retires slowly_.)

_Ger._ Aunt, you have been a mother to me; but were you really my
mother, I must not listen to such words of my father. He has good
reasons for what he does, though I admit there is something in it we
don't understand. (_Aside_.) If I could but understand how Constance--

_Mrs. C._ What do you say? What was that about Constance?

_Ger._ Oh, nothing, aunt. I was only thinking how difficult it is to
understand people.

_Mrs. C._ If you mean Constance, I agree with you. She is a most
provoking girl.

_Ger._ (_smiling_) I am sorry to hear that, aunt.

_Mrs. C._ I'm very glad you were never so silly as take a fancy to the
girl. She would have led you a pretty dance! If you saw how she treats
that unfortunate Waterfield! But what's bred in the bone won't out of
the flesh.

_Ger._ There's nothing bred in her I would have out, aunt.

_Mrs. C._ Perhaps she originated her vulgarity. That is a shade worse.

_Ger. Vulgarity_, aunt! I cannot remember the meaning of the word when
I think of _her_.

_Mrs. C._ If you choose to insult me, Arthur--

_Exit_.

_Ger._ It is high time I were gone! If I should be called in now to
settle matters between--William! William!--William!

_Enter_ COL. G.

_Ger._ To-morrow, William. Not a word. If you will go with me, I shall
be glad. If you will not, I shall go without you.

_Exit_.

_Col. G._ Yes, sir.--I wish Warren were here with the old man. I don't
know what to do till he comes.

_Enter_ CONSTANCE.

_Con._ I thought my aunt was here, William.

_Col. G._ No, miss. She was here, but she's gone again.

_Con._ Could I see Mr. Gervaise for a moment?

_Col. G._ Certainly, miss. I'll tell him.

_Con._ Is he still determined on going, William?

_Col. G._ Yes, miss;--to-morrow, he says.

_Con._ To-morrow!

_Col. G._ Yes, miss. I think he means to start for Dover in the
morning.

_Con._ What am I to do?

_Col. G._ What's the matter, miss?

_Con._ What _can_ I do? I know he is angry with me. I don't quite know
why. I wish I had never--I can't help it now. My heart will break.
(_Weeps_.)

_Col. G._ Don't let him go to Dover to-morrow, miss.

_Con._ He would have listened to me once. He won't now. It's all so
different! Everything has gone wrong somehow.

_Col. G._ Do try to keep him from going, miss.

_Con._ He would but think me forward. I could bear anything better
than have him think ill of me.

_Col. G._ No fear of that, miss. The danger is all the other way.

_Con._ What other way, William?

_Col. G._ He thinks you don't care a bit about him.

_Exit_. CONSTANCE _drops on the dais, nearly under the veiled Psyche_.

_Enter_ GER. _and stands a moment regarding her_.

_Ger._ Constance.

_Con._ (_starting up, and flying to him with her hands clasped_)
Arthur! Arthur! don't go. I can't bear you to go. It's all my fault,
but do forgive me! Oh, do, do--_dear_ Arthur! Don't go to-morrow. I
shall be miserable if you do.

_Ger._ But why, my--why, Constance?

_Con._ I _was_ your Constance once.

_Ger._ But why should I not go? Nobody wants me here.

_Con._ Oh, Arthur! how can you be so cruel? Can it be that--? Do say
something. If you won't say anything, how can I know what you are
thinking--what you wish? Perhaps you don't like--I would--I have--I
won't--Oh, Arthur! do say something.

_Ger._ I have nothing to say, Constance.

_Con._ Then I _have_ lost you--altogether! I dare say I deserve it. I
hardly know. God help me! What can I have done so very wicked? Oh! why
did you take me out of the streets? I should have been used to them by
this time! They are terrible to me now. No, no, Arthur! I thank
you--thank you--with my very soul! What might I not have been by this
time! But I used to lie in that corner, and I daren't now!

_Enter_ COL. G. _behind_.

It was a happy time, for I had not offended you then. Good-bye. Won't
you say one word to me?--You will never see me again.

_She pauses a moment; then exit weeping--by the back door, behind
the Psyche_. COL. G. _follows her_.

_Ger._ How _could_ she love that fellow? (_Looking up_.) Gone? gone!
My Constance! My Psyche! I've driven her into the wild street!
O my God! William! William! Constance! Which door? I won't go,
Constance--I won't. I will do anything you ask me. What was that she
said?--_Good-bye_! God in heaven!--William! you idiot! where are you?
William!

_He rushes out by the front door. Re-enter_ COL. G. _by the back
door_.

_Col. G._ It was lucky I met Bill! He's after her like the wind. That
message will bring her back, I think. I could trust that boy with
anything! But where is he? (_Enter_ THOMAS.) What, friend! here at
last! Thank God! Just sit down a moment, will you? (_Peeps into the
room off the study_.) He's not there! I heard him calling this moment!
Perhaps he's in the house.--Did _you_ leave the door open, sir?

_Tho._ Nay. Th' dur wur oppen. Aw seigh sombory run eawt as aw coom
oop.

_Col. G._ My boy! my boy! It will kill him!--Stop here till I come
back. (_Rushes out_.)

_Tho._ Aw connot stop. Aw'm tired enough, God knows, to stop
anywheeres; mo yed goes reawnd and reawnd, an' aw'd fain lie mo deawn.
But aw mun be gooin'. Nobory can tell what may be coomin to mo Mattie.
Aw mun go look, go look! Ha! ha! they couldn't keep mo, owd mon as aw
wur! But aw wish aw hed a word wi' th' mon first.

_Enter_ WARREN.

_War._ (_aside_) This must be the old fellow himself! Here he is after
all! (_Peeps into the room_.)

_Tho._ Theer be nobory theer, sir. Th' maister's run eawt, and th' mon
after him.

_War._ Run out!

_Tho._ Aw niver says what aw donnot mane. An' aw'm glad yo're theer,
sir; for William he towd mo to stay till he coom back; but aw've not
geet so mich time to spare; and so be's yo're a friend ov th'
maister's, yo'll mebbe mind th' shop a smo' bit. Aw mun goo (_going_).

_War._ I say, old man--your name's Thomas Pearson--ain't it?

_Tho._ Yigh. Aw yer. But hea cooms to to knaw mo name?

_War._ I know all about you.

_Tho._ Ivvery body knaws ivvery body yere! Aw connot stur a fut fur
folks as knaws mo, and knaws mo name, and knaws what aw be after.
Lonnon is a dreedfu' plaze. Aw mun geet mo lass to whoam. Yo'll mind
th' shop till th' maister cooms back. Good neet (_going_).

_War._ (_stopping him_) They want you here a bit. You'd better stop.
The man will be back directly. You're too suspicious.

_Tho._ Nea, maister, thae'rt wrung theer. Aw've trusted too mich--a
theawsand times too mich.

_War._ You trusted the wrong people, then.

_Tho._ It taks no mak o' a warlock to tell mo that, maister. It's smo'
comfort, noather.

_War._ Well now, you give me a turn, and hear what I've got to say.

_Tho._ Yo're o' tarred wi' th' same stick. Ivvery body maks gam ov th'
poor owd mon! Let me goo, maister. Aw want mo chylt, mo Mattie!

_War._ You must wait till Mr. Gervaise's man comes back.

_Tho._ (_despairingly_) O Lord. Th' peack ov sunbrunt lies they ha'
been tellin' me sin' aw coom yere!--childer an o'!

_War._ Have patience, man. You won't repent it.

_Tho._ What mun be, mun. Aw connot ha' patience, but aw con stop. Aw'd
rayther goo, though. Aw'm noan sorry to rest noather. (_Sits down on
the dais_.)

_Enter_ BILL.

_War._ Here, boy! Don't let the old man go till some one comes.
_Exit_.

_Bill_. All right, sir! Hillo, daddy! There you are! Thank God!

_Tho._ What fur, boy? Wull he gie mo mo Mattie again--dosto think?

_Bill_. That he will, daddy! You come along, an' you'll know a honest
boy next time.--I can't till I see Mr. William, though.

_Tho._ Iv thae manes th' maister's mon yere, he's run eawt. An' aw
connot goo witho. Aw'm keepin' th' shop till he coom back. An' aw
dunnot mich care to goo witho. Aw dunnot mich trust tho. Th' Lord have
a care ov mo! Aw dimnot knaw which to trust, and which not to trust.
But aw _mun_ wait for maister William, as yo co' him.

_Bill_. All right, daddy!--Don't you stir from here till I come
back--not for nobody--no, not for Joseph!

_Tho._ Aw dunnot knaw no Joseph.

_Bill_. I'll soon let you see I'm a honest boy! As you can't go to
Mattie, I'll bring Mattie to you: see if I don't! An' if she ain't the
right un, I'll take her back, and charge ye nuffin for carriage. Can't
say fairer than that, daddy!

_Tho._ Bless tho, mo boy! Dosto mane it true?

_Bill_. Yes--an' that you'll see, afore you're an 'alf an hour older,
daddy. When Mr. William comes, you say to him, "Bill's been.--All
right."

_Tho._ Aw dunnot like secrets, lad. What don yo mane? Ivvery body
seems to mane something, and nobory to say it.

_Bill._ Never you mind, daddy! "Bill's been.--All right." That's your
ticket. I'm off. _Exit_.

THOMAS _gets up, and walks about, murmuring to himself. A knock
at the door_.

_Tho._ Somebory after mo again! Aw'll geet eawt ov th' way. (_Goes
behind the Psyche_.)

_Enter_ WATERFIELD.

_Wat_. Nobody here! I _am_ unlucky. "Not at home," said the
rascal,--and grinned, by Jove! I'll be at the bottom of this. There's
no harm in Gervaise. He's a decent fellow. (_Knocks at the door of_
GER.'S _room_.) I won't leave the place till I've set things
right--not if I've got to give him a post-obit for five thousand--I
won't!--Nobody there? (_Looks in_.) No. Then I'll go in and wait.
_Exit_.

_Tho._ (_peeping from behind the Psyche_). That's the villain! Lord o'
mercy! that's the villain! If aw're as strung as aw'm owd, aw'd
scrunch his yed--aw would! Aw'm sure it's th' mon. He kep eawt ov mo
way--but aw seigh him once. O Lord, keep mo hands off ov him. Aw met
kill him. Aw'm sartin sure ov him when aw see him. Aw'll not goo nigh
him till somebory cooms--cep' he roons away. Aw'm noan fleyed ov him,
but aw met not be able to keep mo howd ov him. Oh, mo Mattie! mo
Mattie! to leave thi owd faither for sich a mak ov a mon as yon! But
yere cooms somebory moor. (_Goes behind the Psyche_.)

_Enter_ MRS. CLIFFORD.

_Mrs. C._ No one here? She can never be in his room with him! (_Opens
the door_.) Oh! Mr. Waterfield! You're here--are you?

_Wat_. (_coming to the door_). Mrs. Clifford! This is indeed an
unexpected pleasure!

_Mrs. C._ Have you got Constance with you there?

_Wat_. I've no such good fortune.

_Mrs. C._ Where is she, then?

_Wat_. At home, I presume.

_Mrs. C._ Indeed she is not. I must speak to Arthur.

_Wat_. He's not here.

_Mrs. C._ Where's my--his man, then?

_Wat_. Taken himself off to the public-house, I suppose. There's
nobody about. Odd--ain't it?

_Mrs. C._ I'll go and see. _Exit into the house_.

_Wat_. What can be the row! there is some row. _Exit into the room_.

_Enter_ GER., _supported by_ COL. G.

_Col. G._ Thank God! Thank God!

_Ger._ But where is she? I shall go mad if you've told me a lie.

_Col. G._ I saw her, and sent a messenger after her. We shall have
news of her presently. Do have a little patience, sir.

_Get._ How can I have patience? I'm a brute--a mean, selfish devil! If
that fellow Waterfield was to horse-whip me--I should let him.

_Tho._ (_coming forward_). Theer wur that yung chap yere a while agoo,
and he said aw wur to say to Maister William--what wur it aw're to
say?--Yigh--it wur--"Bill's been. O'reet."

_Col. G._ There, sir! I told you so. Do sit down. I'll go after her.

_Ger._ I will. I will. Only make haste. (_Stands staring at the
Psyche_.)

_Tho._ Th' boy said he'd be yere direckly.

_Col. G._ You sit down. I'll be with you presently.

_Tho._ (_retiring behind the Psyche_). Aw're noan likely to goo,
maister.

_Enter_ MRS. C. _Crosses to room door. Enter_ WATERFIELD. _They
talk_.

_Ger._ William! I don't want them. (_Retreats towards the Psyche_.)

_Col. G._ Sit here one moment, sir. (_Leads him to the dais. Advances
to_ MRS. C.)

_Mrs. C._ (_trying to pass him_). Arthur, what can--?

_Col. G._ (_intercepting her_). Let him rest a bit, ma'am, if you
please. He's been out for the first time.

_Mrs. C._ At night! and in a fog! A pretty nurse you are! Poor boy!

_Col. G._ Mr. Waterfield, sir, would you mind stepping into the room
again for a moment? (_Exit_ WAT.) Mrs. Clifford, ma'am, would you
please get a glass of wine for master? _Exit_ MRS. C. _into the
house_.

_Ger._ William! William!

_Col. G._ Yes, sir.

_Ger._ Send him away. Don't let him stop there. I have nothing to say
to him.

_Col. G._ He shan't trouble you, sir. I'll take care of that. (_Goes
behind the Psyche to_ THOMAS, _but keeps watching the door of the
room_.)--Did you see the man that went in there just now?

_Tho._ (_with anxiety_). He winnot joomp eawt ov th' window, dosto
thenk, lad?

_Re-enter_ MRS. C. _with wine_. GER. _drinks_.

_Col. G._ Why should he do that? Do you know anything about him?

_Tho._ Aw do.

_Col. G._ Has he seen you here?

_Tho._ No. Aw're afeard he'd roon away, and aw keepet snoog.

_Col. G._ I needn't ask who it is, then?

_Tho._ Yo needn't, lad.

_Enter_ WATERFIELD.

_Tho._ Mo conscience! he'll pike eawt afoor aw geet howd on him!
(_Rushes out and seizes_ WAT.)

_Enter_ MATTIE _and_ BILL.

_Tho._ Thae'rt a domned villain! Wheer's mo Mattie?

WATERFIELD _knocks_ THOMAS _down_.

_Bill._ O Lord! the swell's murdered old daddy!

_All but_ GER. _rush together_. COLONEL GERVAISE _seizes_
WATERFIELD. MATTIE _throws herself on her knees beside_ THOMAS
_and lifts his head_.

_Mat_. Father! father! Look at me! It's Mattie!--your own wicked
Mattie! Look at her once, lather dear! (_Lays down his head in
despair, and rises_.) Who struck the good old man?

_Bill._ He did--the swell as give me the gold sov.

_Mat_. Mr. Watkins!--

_Wat_. I haven't the honour of the gentleman's acquaintance. I'm not
Mr. Watkins. Am I now? (_to_ COL. G.). Ha! ha!--Let go, I say. I'm not
the man. It's all a mistake, you see.

_Col. G._ In good time. I might make a worse. Watkins mayn't be your
name, but Watkins is your nature.

_Wat_. Damn your insolence! Let rue go, I tell you! (_Struggles
threatening_.)

_Col. G._ Gently, gently, young man!--If I give your neckcloth a twist
now--!

_Mat_. Yes, there _is_ a mistake--and a sad one for me! A wretch that
would strike an old man! Indeed you are not what I took you for.

_Wat_. You hear the young woman! She says it's all a mistake.--My good
girl, I'm sorry for the old gentleman; but he oughtn't to behave like
a ruffian. Really, now, you know, a fellow can't stand that sort of
thing! A downright assault! I'm sorry I struck him, though--devilish
sorry! I'll pay the damage with pleasure. (_Puts his hand in his
pocket_.)

_Mat_. (_turning away_) And not a gentleman! (_Kneels by_ THOMAS _and
weeps_.)

_Tho._ (_feebly_.) Dunnot greight, Mattie, mo chylt. Aw'm o' reet. Let
th' mon goo. What's _he_ to tho or mo?--By th' mass! aw'm strung
enough to lick him yet (_trying to rise, but falling back_). Eigh!
eigh! mo owd boans 'ud rayther not. It's noan blame sure to an owd mon
to fo' tired o' feightin!

_Mat_. (_taking' his head on her lap_). Father! father! forgive me!
I'm all yours.--I'll go home with you, and work for you till I drop. O
father! how could I leave you for him? I don't care one bit for him
now--I don't indeed. You'll forgive me--won't you, father? (_Sobs_.)

_Tho._ Aw wull, aw do, mo Mattie. Coom whoam--coom whoam.

_Mat_. Will mother forgive me, father?

_Tho._ Thi mother, chylt? Hoo's forgiven tho lung afoor--ivver so lung
agoo, chylt! Thi mother may talk leawd, but her heart is as soft as
parritch.--Thae knows it, Mattie.

_Wat_. All this is very interesting,--only you see it's the wrong man,
and I can't say he enjoys it. Take your hand off my collar--will you?
I'm not the man, I tell you!

_Bill._ All I says is--it's the same swell as guv me the skid to find
her. I'll kiss the book on that!

_Ger._ (_coming forward_). Mr. Waterfield, on your honour, do you know
this girl?

_Wat_. Come! you ain't goin' to put me to my catechism!

_Ger._ You must allow appearances are against you.

_Wat_. Damn your appearances! What do I care?

_Ger._ If you will not answer my question, I must beg you to leave the
place.

_Wat_. My own desire! Will you oblige me by ordering this bull-dog of
yours to take his paws off me? What the devil is he keeping me here
for?

_Col. G._ I've a great mind to give you in charge.

_Wat_. The old codger assaulted me first.

_Col. G._ True; but the whole affair would come to light. That's what
I would have. Miss Pearson, what am I to do with this man?

_Enter_ SUSAN _at the back door. Behind her,_ CONSTANCE _peeps in_.

_Mat_. Let him go.--Father! Father! _(Kisses him_.)

_Sus_. That can never be Mattie's gentleman, sure-ly! Hm! I don't
think much of _him_. I knew he had ugly eyes! I told you so, Mattie!
I wouldn't break my heart for _him_--no, nor for twenty of him--I
wouldn't! He looks like a drowned cat.

_Wat_. What the devil have _you_ got to do with it?

_Sus. Nothing_. You shut up.

_Wat_. Well, I'm damned if I know whether I'm on my head or my heels.

_Sus_. 'Tain't no count which.

_Bill_ (_aside to_ COL. G.). She's at the back door, Mr. William.

_Col. G._ Who is, Bill? Miss Lacordère?

_Bill._ Right you air!

COL. G. _hastens to the door_. CON. _peeps in and draws lack_.
COL. G. _follows her._ WATERFIELD _approaches_ MATTIE.

_Wat_. Miss Pearson, if that's--

_Mat_. I don't know you--don't even know your name.

_Wat_. (_looking round_). You hear her say it! She don't know me!

_Mat_. Could_ you try and rise, father? I want to get out of this.
There's a lady here says I'm a thief!

_Tho._ Nea, that she connot say, Mattie! Thae cooms ov honest folk.
Aw'll geet oop direckly. (_Attempts to rise_.) Eigh! eigh! aw connot!
aw connot!

_Mrs. C._ If I have been unjust to you, Miss Pearson, I shall not fail
to make amends.

_Sus_. It's time you did then, ma'am. You've murdered her, and all but
murdered me. That's how your little bill stands.

_Ger._ (_to_ WAT.) Leave the place, Mr. Waterfield.

_Wat_. You shall answer for this, Gervaise.

_Ger._ Leave the study at once.

_Wat_. Tut! tut! I'll make it up to them. A bank note's a good
plaster.

_Bill_. Pleasir, shall I run and fetch a bobby? I likes to see a swell
wanted.

_Ger._ You hold your tongue. (_Retires to the dais and sits down._
MRS. C. _follows him_.)

_Wat_. (_taking out his pocket-book, and approaching_ MATTIE). I
didn't think you'd have served me so, Mattie! Indeed I didn't! It's
not kind after what's been between you and me. (MATTIE _rises and
stands staring at him_.) You've ruined my prospects--you have! But I
don't want to bear malice: take that.--Old times, you know!--Take it.
You're welcome. (_Forces the note on her. She steps back. It drops_.)

_Mat_. This is a humiliation! Will nobody take him away?

_Sus_. (_rushing at him_). You be off! An' them goggle eyes o' yours,
or _I_'ll goggle 'em! I can't bear the sight on 'em. _I_ should never
ha' taken you for a gentleman. You don't look it. You slope, I say!
(_Hustles him_.)

WATERFIELD _picks up the note, and exit_.

_Mat_. (_bursting into tears_) Father! father! don't hate me; don't
despise me.

THOMAS _tries to get up, but falls back_.

_Bill_. Don't be in no hurry, Daddy. There's none but friends here
now--'cep' the old lady;--she do look glum.

_Sus_. I'll soon settle her hash!

_Mat_. Susie! Susie! Don't--there's a dear!

_Sus_. What business has she here then! She's not a doin' of nothink.

_Mat_. Don't you see she's looking after the poor gentleman there?

_Ger._ William!--William!--Gone again! What a fellow he is! The best
servant in the world, but always vanishing! Call your James--will you,
aunt? We must have the old man put to bed. But the poor girl looks the
worse of the two! She can have the spare room, and William can sleep
on the sofa in mine.

_Mrs. C._ I'll see to it.

_Exit_. GER. _goes towards_ THOMAS.

_Tho._ Coom whoam--coom whoam, Mattie! Thi mother, hoo's cryin' her
eighes eawt to whoam.

_Mat_. I'll run for a doctor first, father.

_Tho._ No, no, chylt! Aw're only a bit stonned, like. Aw'll be o' reet
in a smo' bit. Aw dunnot want no doctor. Aw'm a coomin' reawnd.

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