ALICE DOES WELL
Long rows of wounded men lay stretched out on white cots in the
hospital. Some wore bandages over their heads all but concealing their
eyes. Others were so entwined with white wrappings that it was hard to
say whether they were men or oriental women. Still others raised
themselves on their elbows, spasms of pain corrugating their brows,
while red cross nurses held to their lips cooling drinks.
Here at the bedside of one stood a grave surgeon, slowly shaking his
head as he came to the melancholy conclusion that a further operation
was useless. Over there they were carrying out a motionless form on a
stretcher, a sheet mercifully draped over what was left. At the entrance
to the hospital other bearers were carrying in those who came from the
scene of the distant firing.
The boom of big guns shook the frail shack that had been turned into a
hospital. Now and then, as the wind blew in fitful gusts, there was
borne on it the acrid smell of powder. And again, in some dark corner of
that building of suffering, there could be seen through the cracks, left
by hasty builders, the flash of fire that preceded the booming crash of
the cannon.
A sad-faced woman in black moved slowly down the line of cots led by a
sympathetic nurse. She came to one bed, stopped as though in doubt,
passed her hand over her face as if she did not want to admit that what
she saw she did see, and then she fell on her knees in a passion of
weeping, while the surgeons turned away their heads. She had found what
she had sought.
From the farther door there entered a man, limping on crutches
improvised from the limbs of a tree. Stained bandages were about one arm
and another leg. His head, too, was wrapped so that only half his face
showed. A hurrying orderly met him.
"You can't come in here!" he cried.
"Why not, I'd like to know. Ain't this the horspital?"
"Of course it is."
"Then why can't I come in here. I'm hurt, and hurt bad, pardner. Shot
through leg and arm, and part of my jaw gone. Why can't I come in?"
"'Cause you can't. Didn't we just carry you out for dead? What'll the
audience think if they see you walking again? Git on out of here!"
"I will not! I've wrapped this bandage around my head on purpose so they
won't know me. Let me come in, will you? That's real lemonade them
pretty nurses is givin' out to drink, and I'm as dry as a fish. I've
been firin' one of them guns until I've swallowed enough smoke to play
an animated cannon ball. Let me in the horspital."
"Yes, let him in!" called Mr. Pertell through his megaphone. He was at
the far end of the shack that had been hastily erected on Oak Farm as a
hospital, for the last big scenes of the war play, "A Girl in Blue and A
Girl in Gray."
"All right, just as you say," answered the orderly. "Come on in, Bill.
Are you going to die this time?"
"I am not! I'm going to be one of them converts, and get chicken
sandwiches and jelly."
"You mean convalescent."
"Um. That's it! Lead me to me bed, will you, for I'm a sadly wounded old
soldier--that's what I am."
Amid laughter he was led to a cot, where a smiling nurse tucked him in
between the yellow sheets. For, as has been said, yellow takes the place
of white in inside scenes.
And this was an inside scene, powerful electric lights dispelling all
shadows so the cameras could film every motion and expression.
"Now remember!" called Mr. Pertell when the "wounded man," one of the
extra players, had been comfortably put to bed, "remember no smiling or
laughing when we begin to make the picture. This is supposed to be
serious."
The rehearsal went on and finally the director announced that he was
satisfied. Then the scenes were enacted over again, but with more
tenseness and with a knowledge that every motion was being filmed with
startling exactness.
"Now, Ruth, you come on!" called Mr. Pertell. "We've made a little
change from the original scenario. You're to relieve Miss Dixon, who has
been on this case. He's one of the Northern officers, you remember, and
he has with him papers that the Confederacy would do much to get.
"They are under the officer's pillow, you know. He is afraid to let them
out of his possession. You must humor him, though you know that the
papers will soon have to be taken away as he is to be operated on. It is
here that Alice, as the spy, gets her chance. She pretends to be one of
the nurses of this hospital, dons the uniform, and comes in here to get
the papers. Are you ready?"
"Yes," answered Ruth.
Then the big hospital scene began.
Ruth, in her garb of a nurse, took her place at the side of the injured
officer's cot. She felt his pulse, took his temperature and administered
some medicine. Then the injured man, who was Mr. DeVere himself, sank
back on his pillows. His hand went under the mass of feathers and
brought out a packet of papers. At this point a close-up view was taken,
showing on the screen the papers in magnified shape, so that the
audience could note that they were Civil War documents. It was these
that the officer was afraid would fall into the hands of the
Confederates, so he kept them ever near him.
Ruth made as if to remove them when he had placed them under the pillow
again, but he awoke with a start and prevented her. This was to show
that it was necessary for some one to take them while the operation was
being performed.
Then the scene changed to show Alice preparing for her work as a spy.
The camera was taken to another part of the hospital, Ruth and her
father having a respite, though they maintained their positions.
"Did I do all right, Daddy?" asked Ruth.
"Very well, indeed. You are getting to be a good actress. I wish you
were on the speaking stage."
"I like this ever so much better. I never could speak before a whole
crowd."
Alice was shown making her way into the hospital, a previous scene
having depicted her as promising the Confederate officer in whose employ
as a spy she was, that she would get the papers. She entered the
hospital, pretending to be in search of a missing relative. Then,
watching her chance, she prepared a sleeping powder for a tired and
half-sleeping nurse off duty and prepared to take her uniform.
Alice played her part well. The sleeping nurse aroused, took the drugged
drink, and went more soundly to sleep than ever. Then Alice was shown in
the act of taking off the uniform. Another scene showed her walking
boldly into the ward room to relieve Ruth.
There was a little scene between the two sisters, and Ruth registered
that Alice must be very careful not to alarm or shock the wounded man
who was soon to undergo the operation.
Alice acquiesced, and then sat down beside the cot. Slowly and
carefully, like some pickpocket, she inserted her fingers under the
pillow. Amid a tenseness that affected even the actors working with her,
Alice took out the papers, inch by inch, and began to move away with
them.
It was at this point that she was to be discovered by Paul, in the next
bed. He had, in a previous scene, supposed to have taken place several
months before, saved Alice's life, and they had fallen in love, Alice
promising to wed him after the war. He supposed her to be a true
Northern girl, and now he discovered that she was a Southern spy.
There was a strong scene here. Paul leaped from his bed, and tried to
get the papers away from Alice. She, horror-stricken at being discovered
as a spy by her lover, is torn between affection for him and duty to the
South. She throws him from her, as he is weakened by illness, and is
about to escape with the papers, when she fears Paul is dying and she is
stricken with remorse. She decides to give up her task for the sake of
her lover.
Slowly and softly, without awakening the old officer, she puts the
papers back under his pillow and then, stooping over Paul, who has
fainted from loss of blood, she kisses his forehead and goes out in a
"fadeaway."
"Good! Great! Couldn't be better!" cried Mr. Pertell, as Alice came out
of range of the camera. "That was better than I dared to hope. This will
make a big hit!"