-----
SCENE I.--_A Drawing Room at Mrs. Somerton's; a fire-place at C. with
a bell rope on each side of it; doors R. C. and L. C.; above the door
R. C. a small window; window R. 2 E.; a clock on the mantel-piece; a
work table L., on which is a writing desk; another table in C. of the
stage, with papers, books, &c. strewed on it; chairs, &c., &c.;
another door at R. 2 E. Stage dark. A loud ringing at door bell
heard._
RAT. (_outside_) Now then, my good friend, a little quicker, if you
please. (_enters at door, L. C., in over coat, whiskers, and
moustache; he is closely followed by DAVID, who carries a lantern_)
DAVID. But, zur, zur, don't ye be in such a hurry.
RAT. (_throwing a hasty look round the room, then--aside_) Come, I've
effected an entrance, at all events! so far, so well, provided I'm not
compelled to beat a retreat before I've accomplished my object.
(_walks to various parts of room, examining, &c., &c._)
DAVID. (_all this time examining RATCLIFFE from head to foot with his
lantern--aside_) Well, this be about the free and easiest chap I ever
cut in with; he almost pulls the gate bell down to begin with, and
when I opens the door--thinking in course it's missus come home--in he
walks, and without so much as rubbing his boots on the door mat, tells
me to light him up stairs, at four o'clock in the morning, too.
(_aloud_) Who be ye, zur? I know it don't become a servant to be
inquisitive--so if you'll only tell me who ye be, what ye be, why you
come here, what you want here, where you come from, and a few other
_particklers_, I'll be satisfied and ask no questions.
RAT. (_aside_) I must get rid of this fellow.
DAVID. If you want missus, she be gone from home. She be at a grand
ball, and if she finds you here when she comes home, she'll blow me up
in fine style, as sure as my name's----
RAT. David!
DAVID. (_astonished_) He knows my name!
RAT. (_turning towards DAVID_) Now hark ye, David. There's nothing
more offensive to me, David, than familiarity in a servant, David; but
in consideration, David, of your having only recently entered Mrs.
Somerton's service----
DAVID. He knows that, too.
RAT. And you're being naturally a stupid thick-headed fellow.
DAVID. Dang it, he knows all about me.
RAT. I have no objection to look over it this once, but the next time
it occurs, David, I shall discharge you, David!
DAVID. Discharge me! You? (_suddenly_) Lud a mercy--in course, I know
who 'ee be now!
RAT. (_alarmed_) The devil you do.
DAVID. Ees, you be he.
RAT. Oh! I'm he, am I?
DAVID. Ees. I should have known 'ee again directly, only I never seed
'ee before.
RAT. (_aside_) That's lucky!
DAVID. Why missus has been expecting of you the last three days. It
was only just afore she went out she said to me, "David," said she,
"if my cousin should happen to arrive from London before I get home,
show him every attention," says she!
RAT. (_aside_) Her cousin, egad! he takes me for that simpleton Percy
Postlethwaite; not very complimentary, perhaps, but decidedly lucky!
(_aloud_) Yes, David, here I am, at last; and how is Mrs. Somerton?
DAVID. Mrs. Somerton! is that the way you speak of your cousin? go
along, do. (_poking RATCLIFFE in the side_) Ah! Mr. Percy
Postlethwaite, you be a lucky young chap to get such a wife, I can
tell 'ee.
RAT. (_aside_) Wife! so, so, Mr. Percy Postlethwaite, matters are in a
more forward state than you led me to believe.
DAVID. You'll find supper all ready for 'ee in the library,
(_pointing_) so I'll just light the candles.
RAT. By all means, David. (_aside_) He does'nt know me.
DAVID. (_while lighting the candles_) Missus 'll be mortal glad to see
'ee, and as for Peggy, she won't know whether she be standing on her
head or her heels.
RAT. I'm sure I'm very much obliged to Peggy. (_aside_) Who's Peggy?
DAVID. And no wonder; she tells me many's the time she's dangled 'ee
on her knee, afore ye were breeched; (_imitating_) but ye know all
about that.
RAT. Of course. I've the most distinct recollection of everything that
happened to me before I was breeched.
DAVID. (_having lighted candles_) There, and now I'll go down stairs
and wait for missus; and as soon as she comes in, I'll say to her----
RAT. Not one word, either to her or to Peggy! I wish to give them both
an agreeable surprise, David; you understand, eh?
DAVID. (_hesitating_) I think I do!
RAT. (_giving him money_) There's a crown for you--think again.
DAVID. (_pocketing money_) I'm sure I do! I'll be as dumb as an
oyster. (_going--stops_) As I said before, supper be all ready in
t'other room, (_going--stops_) and if 'ee want anything you needn't
ring for me, 'cause I be going to take a bit of a snooze before the
kitchen fire. (_yawning_) How sleepy I be to be sure.
_Exit at door, L. C._
RAT. (_watching DAVID out, then goes quickly up and closes the door_)
Alone at last--now then to work. (_takes a pair of pistols from his
coat pocket, which he places on table_) But first, as ladies
invariably fly to the bell ropes to raise an alarm, I must take the
liberty of cutting these. (_taking knife out of his pocket, and
cutting the bell ropes_) Now to examine the means of escape, in case
of interruption--(_opening window and looking out_)--the garden--a
small conservatory underneath--that's awkward; but, luckily, there's
an apple tree so conveniently close as to make a very tolerable ladder
on an emergency, so far perfectly satisfactory--and if my information
is only tolerably correct, and it ought to be considering the trouble
I've had in obtaining it, (_taking small pocket book from his
waistcoat and opening it_) this door should lead to Mrs. Somerton's
chamber--(_opening door at L., and looking in_)--exactly, and very
elegantly appointed indeed. (_closes door, and again looking at his
pocket book_)--"near the door a table"--precisely--(_laying his hand
on the table_)--"on the table a small writing desk"--here it
is--(_laying his hand on the writing desk_)--locked, and the key taken
out, that of course I expected; but as I have ascertained that between
the hours of 12 and 1 yesterday it became the temporary receptacle of
a pocket book containing bank notes to the amount of fifteen thousand
pounds, it is not likely I should come unprovided with the means of
securing such a treasure. (_takes out a bunch of small keys, some of
which he tries--produces a chisel from his coat pocket, and is about
to insert it under the lid of the box, a loud ring at gate bell
heard_) Mrs. Somerton returned. (_runs to door, L. U. E.--ring
repeated_) Again! Stay--(_listening_) The window--quick! (_runs to
window_) A man in the garden, and cautiously making towards this
window. Who can he be? and what can be his object? Not the same as
mine surely--egad, that would be comical enough. If I could only
observe---- Ah--that door. (_blows out the candle, and gropes his way
to door, R.; at the moment that he enters the room, R.,
POSTLETHWAITE'S head is seen at the window, R. U. E._)
POS. I've done it! I've been ringing at the bell long enough, so I've
been obliged to effect an entrance by the window; (_putting one leg
over the window sill_) and let me observe to the inexperienced in
these matters, that the fact of threading one's way up a densely
wooded apple tree on a pitch dark night is a gymnastic feat more
easily imagined than accomplished. (_gets in at window--he has a
carpet bag_) However, as I said before, I've done it, and what's more
I live to tell it, though I may be allowed to remark that, considering
my cousin, Mrs. Somerton, has been expecting me--_me, her affianced
husband--_for the last three nights, I think she might have allowed
one of her domestics to sit up for me: however, I'm not going to
quarrel with her, no--no--I cannot forget that she's my cousin, and
the only child of my honoured and lamented uncle--I mean aunt--no,
uncle--and now that the law suit has been decided in her favour, and
that she steps into possession of fifteen thousand pounds, her late
husband's fortune, I feel that to upbraid her at such a moment would
be unmanly. There's a spark of fire left in the grate I
declare--that's lucky! I'll light a candle if I can find one.
(_feeling about_) Here's one--no, it's a scent bottle--now I've got
it--(_takes candle, and goes towards fireplace_)--and now for a piece
of paper. (_takes a paper out of his pocket, and about to tear it_)
Stop--it won't do to tear this, this is yesterday's Times, in which I
find that my friend Captain Ratcliffe has been appointed to the
situation of Chief Superintendent of the Rural Police, of the Western
Division of the County of Kent, and as I know he's been here at
Tunbridge Wells for the last week, I've determined to find him out,
and be the first to congratulate him--this'll do! (_taking another
piece of paper, and lighting the candle with it_) There--and now----
(_seeing a letter on the table, and taking it up_) What's this?
"Colonel Boldwig requests the honour--Mrs. Somerton's
company--Thursday evening--quadrilles, &c. &c." Then she's not at
home; then, egad, I'll wait for her here--but not in this costume--no,
I'll just change my coat, et cetera: and, probably, my et cetera
requires changing more than my coat, because naturally in ascending a
tree one occasionally requires to sit down, consequently, it naturally
follows that one's et cetera, upon which one does sit down--of course,
it stands to reason--so here goes. (_taking up the candle, carpet bag,
and umbrella, and going towards door, R. C., and enters. Scene again
dark. At this moment RATCLIFFE opens door at R., enters, moves across
on tiptoe, and locks the door at R. C._)
RAT. Come, I've got you safe under lock and key, my worthy friend,
whoever you are, and now not another moment must be lost. (_advances
towards the writing desk quickly, L. table_)
MRS. S. (_without_) Don't be alarmed, David, I forgot to say I had
taken the latch key with me.
RAT. Mrs. Somerton's voice, and no means of escape! Then impudence
befriend me! (_hurries into room, R._)
_Enter MRS. SOMERTON and PEGGY at door, L. U. E._
PEGGY. (_who carries a small lantern in her hand, which she places on
table_) Dear, dear, how my poor old bones do ache.
MRS. S. (_throws off her cloak and hood, and appears in a handsome
ball costume_) Now go to bed at once, my good Peggy, I don't require
you any more.
PEGGY. Yes you do, so sit down there--(_making MRS. SOMERTON sit down
on a chair_)--and now, while I'm taking all these gimcracks and finery
out of your hair, you shall tell me all about the grand doings at the
ball. I warrant me, what the colonel's footmen said of you was quite
true.
MRS. S. And pray what did the colonel's footmen say?
PEGGY. They said---- Drat the pin! They said you were the most
beautiful lady in the room--that you had handsomer partners than any
lady in the room.
MRS. S. Yes--to do them, justice, they fairly danced me off my feet,
and yet I am neither grown better tempered, nor better looking, than I
was three months ago, when at a previous party not one of them
condescended to select me for a partner; but then, on the other hand,
I am fifteen thousand pounds richer.
PEGGY. (_suddenly, and giving MRS. SOMERTON'S hair another jerk_)
That's it! Ah, ma'am, these lords of the creation, as they call
themselves, are but a poor mean selfish set after all.
MRS. S. Selfish! No, not all--(_sighing_)--there is one at least.
PEGGY. No! Is there?--he must be quite a curiosity! Oh, ma'am, who is he?
MRS. S. It's a long story, Peggy, and it's getting late.
PEGGY. It's never too late to hear good news.
MRS. S. Then listen, Peggy. You remember that about ten months ago I
was earnestly advised by my physicians to pay a short visit to the
continent.
PEGGY. Yes; and I remember too that you came home quite an altered
woman--_I_ never saw hair dressed in such an extraordinary
style--never!
MRS. S. Don't interrupt me. I had been in Paris about three weeks,
when one evening on my return from the opera, I found a note on my
dressing table, containing these words--"I have seen you, and to see
you is to love you. I am young, tolerably handsome, and sufficiently
rich, yet as I cannot presume to present myself to you until you
permit me to do so, I shall venture to remind you from time to time
that I am near you."
PEGGY. Well I'm sure, Mr. Impudence; and what was the fellow's name?
MRS. S. There was no name, but merely the initials C. R.
PEGGY. C. R. Samuel something or other I dare say--but he gave his
address?
MRS. S. No; simply the words "Post Office, to be left till called
for." Of course, I took no notice of it whatever, and had forgotten
the circumstance altogether, when a month afterwards to the very
day--the very hour--I was then at Florence, I received a second
communication, couched in precisely the same words, and again
subsequently at Venice, Naples, and Milan.
PEGGY. Dear, dear, it's as good as a play! Then you never took any
notice of the fellow at all?
MRS. S. Yes; a circumstance, the bare recollection of which makes me
shudder even at this lapse of time, compelled me to break through the
silence I had hitherto imposed upon myself: in travelling through
Switzerland, on my return to England, the carriage which I occupied
was one night placed in imminent peril by the restiveness of one of
the horses; fortunately, I was asleep, and was not aware of my danger
till I was assured of my safety--within a few feet of a fearful
precipice, the traces had been cut, by a man who had evidently
followed me, judge then of my astonishment when a voice uttered these
words in my ear, "You see, madam, I have kept my promise, I am _still
near you._"
PEGGY. Well, he was a fine brave gentleman, whoever he was; and what
was he like--eh?
MRS. S. He had disappeared before I could even thank him for his
timely and generous assistance.
PEGGY. Well?
MRS. S. Well? (_hesitatingly_) his next letter, which reached me
shortly after my return to England, did _not_ remain unanswered.
PEGGY. I should think not, indeed! and what did you say to Mr. C. R.?
MRS. S. The truth! that my hand was promised to my cousin, Percy
Postlethwaite; that his father had once saved _mine_ from ruin, who
made me promise, as the only means of testifying _his_ gratitude to
the father, to marry the son.
PEGGY. Ah! and that, of course, was a settler for Mr. C. R.
MRS. S. On the contrary, his answer to my letter ran thus:--"Love like
mine never despairs. I will still be near you, for I still hope"--and
yet for the last _two months_ he has ceased to write.
PEGGY. Of course he has! and high time, too, considering you told him
you were Mrs. Postlethwaite, as was to be.
MRS. S. Very true; and yet (_after a slight hesitation_) no matter, go
to bed, Peggy. Good night.
PEGGY. Good night, ma'am. (_taking the lantern--aside_) Luckily when
Master Percy arrives he'll put all this romantic lackadaisical
nonsense out of missus's head.
_Exit at door, L. C._
MRS. S. Yes, while the news of my recent accession to fortune has
brought so many admirers to my feet, he, on the contrary, has ceased
to think of me.
(_MRS. S. seats herself in chair near the work
table, L.; RATCLIFFE at the same moment enters and
cautiously goes to door, L. C., which he closes.
The stage is only dimly lighted_)
MRS. S. (_hearing the noise of the door closing, and without turning
round, as she unclasps her bracelets_) Is that you again, Peggy? (_not
receiving an answer, she turns and sees RATCLIFFE; starts violently,
and checking a scream_) A man!