BARTLETT--[_In a tone almost of fear._] Wait. I’m goin’ with ye.
[_Turning to his wife--with a certain rough tenderness._] Ye oughtn’t to
walk down the hill here, Sarah. The doctor told ye to rest in the house
and save your strength.
MRS. B.--I want to speak to you alone, Isaiah. You never come to home no
more, hardly, so I had to come to ye. [_Accusingly._] You know it ain’t
walkin’ is sappin’ my strength, Isaiah.
BARTLETT--[_Very uneasily._] I’ve got to work on the schooner, Sarah.
That’s why I’ve no time to home.
MRS. B.--She’ll be sailin’ soon?
BARTLETT--[_Suddenly turning on her defiantly._] Tomorrow at dawn!
MRS. B.--[_With her eyes fired accusingly on his._] And you be goin’
with her?
BARTLETT--[_In the same defiant tone._] Yes, I be! Who else’d captain
her?
MRS. B.--On a craft without a name.
BARTLETT--She’ll have that name.
MRS. B.--No.
BARTLETT--She’ll have that name, I tell ye.
MRS. B.--No.
BARTLETT--[_Thoroughly aroused, his will tries to break hers, but finds
her unbending. He mutters menacingly._] Ye’ll see! We’ll talk o’ that
later, you and me. [_With sudden apprehension._] But not now. They’s
plenty o’ time yet for that. Come on, Horne, we’ll get aboard. [_Without
a further glance at his wife he strides past her and disappears through
the doorway, followed by_ HORNE. MRS. BARTLETT _sinks down in the chair
by the table. She appears suddenly weak and crushed. Then from outside
comes a girl’s laughing voice._ MRS. BARTLETT _does not seem to hear,
nor to notice_ SUE _and_ DREW _when they enter_. SUE _is a slender,
pretty girl of about twenty, with large blue eyes, reddish-brown hair,
and a healthy, sun-tanned, out-of-door complexion. In spite of the
slightness of her figure there is a suggestion of great vitality and
nervous strength about her._ DREW _is a well-set-up, tall young fellow
of thirty. Not in any way handsome, his boyish face, tanned to a deep
brown, possesses an engaging character of healthy, cheerful
forcefullness that has its compelling charm. There would be no chance of
mistaking him for anything but the ship’s officer he is. It is written
on his face, his walk, his voice, his whole bearing._]
SUE--[_As they enter._] He’ll either be here or on the schooner, Danny.
[_Then she sees her mother, with startled amazement._] Ma! Good heavens,
what are you doing here? [_Throwing her arms around her neck and kissing
her._] Don’t you know you shouldn’t----
MRS. B.--[_With a start--turning to her daughter with a forced smile._]
There, Sue, now! Don’t go scoldin’ me. [_Then seeing_ DREW--_in a tone
of forced gaiety_.] And if there ain’t Danny Drew--back home to port at
last! You can kiss an old woman, Danny--without makin’ her jealous, I
reckon.
DREW--[_Kissing her--with a smile._] I don’t know about that, Ma
Bartlett. [_Heartily._] It certainly seems good to see you again--and be
back again myself.
MRS. B.--We’ve been expectin’ you right along this past month. Then we
read in the paper t’other day where your ship’d reached San Francisco,
and we knew you’d be down any day. Sue’s been on pins and needles ever
since.
SUE--[_Protestingly._] Ma!
DREW--We were delayed in Valparaiso, waiting for cargo. [_With a grin._]
It’s a long time to be away from Sue--four months.
SUE--[_Laughing._] It seems more like four years!
DREW--You remember, Ma, I left just after the big excitement here--when
Captain Bartlett turned up after we’d all heard the Triton was wrecked
and given him up for lost. That was sure a wonderful surprise when he
walked into the house that day.
MRS. B.--[_Her face clouding--in a tone of deep sorrow._] Yes. [DREW _is
surprised and glances at_ SUE _questioningly_. She sighs. MRS. BARTLETT
_gets to her feet with difficulty, assisted by_ DREW. _She forces a
smile._] I’ve taken on a third leg since you was here, Danny!
SUE--We’ll help you back to the house. You can’t climb that steep hill
alone.
MRS. B.--Shucks! I’m sick o’ the house. I need sun and fresh air, and
today’s so nice I couldn’t stay indoors. I’ll take your arm to hold on
to, Danny. No, I ain’t goin’ up to the house yet awhile, so don’t you
try to bully me into it, Sue. I’m goin’ to set in the shade o’ this shed
out on the wharf and watch your Pa workin’ on the schooner. Ain’t much
time left to see her, Sue. They’re sailin’ tomorrow at dawn, your Pa
says.
SUE--Tomorrow? Then--you’re going to christen her?
MRS. B.--[_With grim determination._] No, I ain’t, Sue! [_Catching_
DREW’S _glance fixed on her with puzzled curiosity, she immediately
attempts to resume her joking tone_.] Shucks! Here’s Danny wonderin’
what silliness we’re talkin’ of. It’s just this, Danny. Captain
Bartlett, he’s got a crazy notion in his head that just because his ship
was wrecked last vige he’ll give up whalin’ for life. He’s fitted out
this little schooner for tradin’ in the Islands. More money in that, he
says. But I don’t agree with no such lunatic notions, and I’m just that
stubborn I’m not goin’ to set my approval on his craziness by
christenin’ his ship with my name, like he wants me to. He’d ought to
stick to whalin,’ like he’s done all his life. Don’t you think so,
Danny?
DREW--[_Embarrassed._] Why, sure--he’s rated one of the smartest whaling
skippers here on the coast--and I should think----
MRS. B.--Just what I tell him--only he’s that stubborn. I’d best get out
quick while it’s still sunny and warm. It’s damp in here for an old
body. [DREW _helps her to the door on the left, opens it, and the two go
out, followed by_ SUE, _who carries a chair. After a pause_, SUE _and_
DREW _return_. SUE _carefully shuts the door after them. Her face is
troubled._]
DREW--[_Looks at her for a minute, then comes and puts his arm around
her and kisses her._] What’s the trouble, Sue?
SUE--[_Trying to force a smile._] Nothing, Danny.
DREW--Oh, yes there is! No use putting me off that way. Why, I’ve felt
it hanging about in the air ever since I first looked at your mother.
SUE--Yes, she’s failed terribly since you saw her last.
DREW--Oh, I don’t mean just sickness--only--did you notice how she had
to--force herself--to joke about things? She used to be so cheerful
natural. [_Scratching his head in honest puzzlement._] But--that ain’t
what I mean, either. What is it, Sue? Maybe I can help somehow. You look
worried, too. Pshaw! You can tell me, can’t you?
SUE--Why, yes, Danny--of course--if I could tell--only I’m just as
puzzled as you over what it comes from.
DREW--[_Persuasively._] Well, you sit down and tell me what’s happened
since I’ve been away. Then maybe we can put our heads together and
figure out what’s wrong, and turn to get things ship-shape again. [SUE
_sits down but does not speak_. DREW _remarks as if to get her
started_.] That schooner’s a smart little craft for sailing, I should
say. I didn’t notice no one about working, though.
SUE--No. They’re probably below in the cabin, drinking. That’s all
they’ve been doing lately. The schooner’s been ready to sail for two
weeks--but Pa has kept waiting--I don’t know what for. Yes, I do know,
too--I think I guess. He’s been waiting for Ma to give in and christen
the ship with her name. But she won’t give in. You heard her.
DREW--Well, I suppose she does take it to heart that he’d give up the
business he’s been in all his life to go in for something new--at his
age.
SUE--He mortgaged the house to get money to buy and fit out this
schooner. You know he lost most everything when the Triton was wrecked.
He’d only had her two years, and she cost him a pile of money. Then,
too, he’s lost a lot all his life--since he and Ma moved out here from
the East--investing in all sorts of silly mining ventures--gold mines
that always turned out to be only holes in the ground. As far back as I
can remember he’s never seemed to care about the whaling business--the
oil. Ambergris was what he was after. Finding one chunk of that meant
more to him than a full cargo of oil.
DREW--[_With a grin._] “Old Ambergris.” That’s what they call him along
the coast--behind his back, of course. I reckon he was sort of
prospecting the Pacific Ocean looking for an ambergris mine.
[_Apologetically._] Sounds as if I was making fun of him, but you
remember how you’n’ me ’n’ Nat used to laugh about it together.
SUE--It’s past a laughing matter now, Danny.
DREW--And what do you reckon the real trouble is?
SUE--Something between him and Ma--something that only the two of them
know. It all seemed to start one morning after you’d left--about a week
after he’d come home with those three awful men. During that first week
he acted all right--just like he used to--only he’d get talking kind of
wild now and then about being glad the Triton was lost, and promising
we’d all be millionaires once he started making trips on the schooner.
Ma didn’t seem to mind his going in for trading then. Then, the night of
the day he bought the schooner, something must have happened between
them. Neither of them came down to breakfast. I went up to Ma, and found
her so sick we sent for the doctor. He said she’d suffered a great shock
of some kind, although she wouldn’t tell him a word. I found Pa down in
this shed. He’d moved that cot down here, and said he’d have to sleep
here after that because he wanted to be near the schooner. It’s been
that way ever since. He’s slept down here and never come up to the house
except at mealtimes. He’s never been alone with Ma one second since
then, I don’t believe. And she--she’s been trying to corner him, to get
him alone. I’ve noticed it, although she does her best to hide it from
Nat and me. And she’s been failing, growing weaker and sicker looking
every day. [_Breaking down._] Oh, Danny, these last months have been
terrible! I’m so glad you’re back again.
DREW--[_Soothing her._] There! It’ll all come out right.
SUE--I’m sure that’s why she’s crept down here today. She’s bound she’ll
see him alone before he sails.
DREW--Well, maybe it’s for the best. Maybe when they’ve had it out,
things’ll clear up.
SUE--Yes, perhaps. But I can’t help feeling--it’ll only make it worse.
DREW--[_Frowning._] Seems to me it must be all your Pa’s fault,
Sue--whatever it is. Have you tried to talk to him?
SUE--Yes--a good many times; but all he’s ever said was: “There’s things
you wouldn’t take interest in, Sue. You’ll know when it’s time to
know.”--and then he’d break off by asking me what I’d like most to have
in the world if he had piles of money. And then, one time, he seemed to
be terribly afraid of something, and he said to me: “You hustle up and
marry Danny, Sue. You marry him and get out of this.”
DREW--[_With an affectionate grin._] That does sound crazy--any man
wanting to get rid of you that way. [_A note of entreaty in his voice._]
But I surely wish you’d take his advice, Sue! [_He kisses her._]
SUE--[_With intense longing._] Oh, I wish I could, Danny.
DREW--I’ve quite considerable saved now, Sue, and it won’t be so long
before I get my own ship, I’m hoping, now that I’ve got my master’s
certificate. I was hoping at the end of this voyage----
SUE--So was I, Danny--but it can’t be this time. With Ma so weak, and no
one to take care of her but me---- [_Shaking her head--in a tone of
decision._] I couldn’t leave home now, Danny. It wouldn’t be right. I
couldn’t feel really happy--until this thing--whatever it is--is settled
between Pa and Ma and they’re just as they used to be again.
[_Pleadingly._] You understand, don’t you, Danny?
DREW--[_Soberly._] Why--surely I do, Sue. [_He pats her hand._] Only,
it’s hard waiting. [_He sighs._]
SUE--I know. It’s just as hard for me.
DREW--I thought maybe I could help; but this isn’t anything anyone
outside your family could mix in. [SUE _shakes her head. He goes on
gloomily after a pause._] What’s the matter with Nat? Seems as if he
ought to be able to step in and talk turkey to your Pa.
SUE--[_Slowly._] You’ll find Nat changed, too, Danny--changed terribly.
He’s caught the disease--whatever it is. You know how interested in his
work he’s been ever since they put him in the designing department down
in the shipyard?
DREW--Yes.
SUE--[_With emphasis._] Well, all that’s changed. He hates it now, or at
least he says he does. And when he comes home, he spends all his time
prowling around the dock here, talking with those three awful men. And
what do you think he told me only the other day? That he was bound he’d
throw up his job and make this voyage on the schooner. He even asked me
to ask Pa to let him go.
DREW--Your Pa doesn’t want him to, eh?
SUE--Why, of course not! Leave a fine position he worked so hard to get
just for this crazy notion! Pa’d never let him. He’s even ordered him to
keep off the schooner and not to talk to those men.
DREW--Funny Nat’d like to go to sea. He’s always seemed to want to fight
shy of it.
SUE--The terrible part is, he’s got Ma worried to death--as if she
wasn’t upset enough already. She’s so afraid he’ll go--that Pa’ll let
him at the last moment. She’s always pleading with Nat not to think of
it--so that he keeps out of her way, too. Poor Ma! She’s only got me to
talk to.
DREW--Maybe I can help after all. I can talk to Nat.
SUE--[_Shaking her head._] He’s not the same Nat, Danny.
DREW--[_Trying to be consoling._] Pshaw, Sue! I think you just get to
imagining things. [_As he finishes speaking, the door in the rear opens
and_ NAT _appears. He is a tall, loose-framed boy of eighteen, who bears
a striking resemblance to his father. His face, like his father’s, is
large and bony, with deep-set black eyes, an aquiline nose, and a wide,
thin-lipped mouth. There is no suggestion in_ NAT, _however, of the
older man’s physical health and great strength. He appears an indoor
product, undeveloped in muscle, with a sallow complexion and stooped
shoulders. His thick hair is a deep black. His voice recalls his
father’s, hollow and penetrating. He is dressed in a grey flannel shirt
and corduroy trousers._ DREW _calls out to him, heartly_.] Hello, Nat!
Speak of the Devil! Sue and I were just talking about you. [_He goes
toward_ NAT, _his hand outstretched_.]
NAT--[_Comes toward them, meets_ DREW, _and shakes his hand with evident
pleasure_.] Hello, Danny! You’re a sight for sore eyes! [_His manner
undergoes a sudden change. He casts a quick, suspicious glance from_
DREW _to his sister_.] You were talking about me? What about?
SUE--[_Quickly--with a warning glance at_ DREW.] About your work down at
the shipyard.
NAT--[_Disgustedly._] Oh, that. [_In a tone of reasonless irritation._]
For God’s sake, Sue, let me alone about my work. Don’t I have to live
with the damn thing all day, without your shoving it in my face the
minute I get home? I want to forget it--get away!
DREW--Go to sea, eh?
NAT--[_Suspiciously._] Maybe. Why? What do you mean?
DREW--[_Warned by a glance from Sue, says carelessly._] Well, that’s
where you’d be apt to go, isn’t it?
NAT--[_Suspiciously._] That isn’t what you were thinking, Danny.
[_Turning to his sister--angrily._] What have you been telling Danny?
SUE--I was talking about the schooner--telling him that she sails
tomorrow.
NAT--[_Dumfounded._] Tomorrow? [_Overcome by sudden, nervous
excitement._] It can’t be. How do you know? Who told you?
SUE--Ma. Pa told her.
NAT--Then she’s been talking to him--telling him not to take me, I’ll
bet. [_Angrily._] Oh, I wish Ma’d mind her own business!
SUE--Nat!
NAT--Well, Sue, how would you like it? I’m not a little boy any more. I
know what I want to do. I want to go with them. I want to go more than
I’ve ever wanted anything else in my life before. He--he doesn’t want
me. He’s afraid I--But I think I can force him to---- [_He glances at_
DREW’S _amazed face and stops abruptly--sullenly_.] Where is Pa?
SUE--He’s aboard the schooner.
NAT--[_Disappointedly._] Then it’s no good trying to see him now. I’ll
have to wait.
DREW--Sound’s funny to hear you talking about going to sea. Why, you
always used----
NAT--[_Wearily._] I know. This is different.
DREW--You want to see the Islands, I suppose?
NAT--[_Suspiciously._] Maybe. Why not?
DREW--What group is your Pa heading for first?
NAT--[_More suspiciously._] You’ll have to ask him. Why do you want to
know? [_Abruptly._] You better be getting up to the house, Sue--if we’re
to have any supper. Danny must be hungry. [_He turns his back on them.
They exchange meaning glances._]
SUE--[_With a sigh._] It must be getting late. Come on, Danny. You can
see Pa later on. [_They go toward the door in the rear._] Aren’t you
coming, Nat?
NAT--No. I’ll wait. [_Impatiently._] Go ahead. I’ll be up before long.
DREW--See you later, then, Nat.
NAT--Yes. [_They go out, rear._ NAT _paces up and down in a great state
of excitement. The door on the left is opened and_ BARTLETT _enters. His
eyes are wild, as if he had been drinking heavily, but he shows no
other effects. Father and son stand looking at one another for a
second._ NAT _takes a step backward as if in fear, then straightens up
defiantly_.]
BARTLETT--[_Slowly._] Is this the way ye mind my orders, boy? I’ve told
ye time an’ again not to be sneakin’ and spyin’ around this wharf.
NAT--I’m not sneaking and spying. I wanted to talk to you, Pa.
BARTLETT--[_Sits down by the table._] Well, here I be.
NAT--Sue said the schooner sails tomorrow.
BARTLETT--Aye!
NAT--[_Resolutely._] I want to go with you, Pa.
BARTLETT--[_Briefly--as if dismissing the matter._] Ye can’t. I’ve told
ye that before. Let this be the last time ye ask it.
NAT--But why? Why can’t I go?
BARTLETT--Ye’ve your own work to do--good work. Attend to that and leave
me to mine.
NAT--But you always wanted me to go on voyages to learn whaling with
you.
BARTLETT--This be different.
NAT--[_With excited indignation._] Yes, this is different! Don’t I know
it? Do you think you can hide that from me? It is different, and that’s
why I want to go.
BARTLETT--Ye can’t, I say.
NAT--[_Pleadingly._] But why not, Pa? I’m not a boy. I can do a man’s
work on a ship, or anywhere else.
BARTLETT--[_Roughly._] Let’s have done with talk! Your place is here,
with Sue and your Ma, and here you’ll stay.
NAT--[_Angrily._] That isn’t any reason. But I know your real one.
You’re afraid----
BARTLETT--[_Half rising to his feet._] Ye say that to me? [_Recovering
himself with an effort and settling down again._] Keep a clapper on your
jaw, boy. That’s talk I’ll not put up with. [_With a touch of
uneasiness--forcing a scornful laugh._] Afeerd! Afeerd o’ what? Did ye
ever know me to be afeerd?
NAT--Afraid of what I know, of what I might find out if I went with you.
BARTLETT--[_With the same forced, uneasy scorn._] And what d’ye think
ye’d find out, Nat?
NAT--First of all that it’s not a trading venture you’re going on. Oh,
I’m not a fool! That story is all right to fool the neighbors and girls
like Sue. But I know better.
BARTLETT--What d’ye know?
NAT--You’re going for something else.
BARTLETT--What would that be?
NAT--I don’t know--exactly. Something--on that island.
BARTLETT--What?
NAT--I don’t know. But I could guess a lot of things. [_With sudden
excitement._] Ambergris! That’s it! Is that it? It must be. That’s what
you’ve been hunting for years.
BARTLETT--Aye--and never found! [_He gets to his feet with a forced
burst of laughter._] Ambergris! Ye fool of a boy! Ye got that notion out
o’ some fool book ye’ve been reading, didn’t ye? And I thought ye’d
growed to be a man! [_More and more wild in his forced scorn._] Ye’ll be
tellin’ me next it’s buried treasure I be sailin’ after--pirates’ gold
buried on that island--all in a chest--and a map to guide me with a
cross marked on it where the gold is hid! And then they be ghosts
guardin’ it, ben’t they--spirits o’ murdered men? They always be, in the
books. [_He laughs scornfully._]
NAT--[_Gazing at him with fascinated eyes._] No, not that last. That’s
silly--but I did think you might have found--
BARTLETT--[_Laughing again._] Treasure? Gold? [_With forced sternness._]
Nat, I be ashamed of ye. Ye’ve had schoolin’, and ye’ve been doin’ a
man’s work in the world, and doin’ it well, and I’d hoped ye’d take my
place here to home when I be away, and look after your Ma and Sue. But
ye’ve owned up to bein’ little better nor a boy in short britches,
dreamin’ o’ pirates’ gold that never was ’cept in books.
NAT--But you--you’re to blame. When you first came home you did nothing
but talk mysteriously of how rich we’d all be when the schooner got
back.
BARTLETT--[_Roughly._] But what’s that to do with silly dreams? It’s in
the line o’ trade I meant.
NAT--But why be so mysterious about trade? There’s something you’re
hiding. You can’t say no because I feel it.
BARTLETT--[_Insinuatingly--with a crafty glance at his son._] Supposin’
in one of them Eastern trading ports I’d run across a bit o’ business
with a chance for a fortune in it for a man that wasn’t afeerd of the
law, and could keep his mouth shut?
NAT--[_Disappointed._] You mean illegal trading?
BARTLETT--I mean what I mean, Nat--and I’d be a fool to tell an
overgrown boy, or two women--or any man in the world, for the matter o’
that--what I do mean.
NAT--[_Turning toward the door in the rear--disgustedly._] If it’s only
that, I don’t want to hear it. [_He walks toward the door--stops and
turns again to his father._] No, I don’t believe it. That’s not like
you. You’re not telling the truth, Pa.
BARTLETT--[_Rising to his feet--with a savage sternness in which there
is a wild note of entreaty._] I’ve listened to your fool’s talk enough.
Get up to the house where ye belong! I’ll stand no more o’ your meddling
in business o’ mine. I’ve been patient with ye, but there’s an end to
that! Take heed o’ what I’m sayin’, if ye know what’s good for ye! I’d
rather see ye dead tonight than sail on that schooner at dawn. I’d kill
ye with my own hands first! [_With a sort of sombre pride._] I’ll stand
alone in this business and finish it out alone if I go to hell for it.
Ye hear me?
NAT--[_Alarmed by this outburst--submissively._] Yes, Pa.
BARTLETT--Then see that ye heed. [_After a pause--as_ NAT _lingers_.]
They’ll be waitin’ for ye at the house.
NAT--All right. I’ll go. [_He turns to the doorway on the left, but
before he gets to it, the door is pushed open and_ MRS. BARTLETT
_enters_. NAT _stops, startled_.] Ma!
MRS. BARTLETT--[_With a forced smile._] Run along, Nat. It’s all right.
I want to speak with your Pa.
BARTLETT--[_Uneasily._] Ye’d best go up with Nat, Sarah. I’ve work to
do.
MRS. BARTLETT--[_Fixing her eyes on her husband._] I want to talk with
you alone, Isaiah.
BARTLETT--[_Grimly--as if he were accepting a challenge._] As ye like,
then.
MRS. BARTLETT--[_Dismissing_ NAT _with a feeble attempt at a smile_.]
Tell Sue I’ll be comin’ up directly, Nat.
NAT--[_Hesitates for a moment, looking from one to the other
uneasily._] All right, Ma. [_He goes out._]
BARTLETT--[_Waits for_ NAT _to get out of hearing_.] Won’t ye set,
Sarah? [_She comes forward and sits by the table. He sits by the other
side._]
MRS. BARTLETT--[_Shuddering as she sees the bottle on the table._] Will
drinkin’ this poison make you forget, Isaiah?
BARTLETT--[_Gruffly._] I’ve naught to forget--leastways naught that’s in
your mind. But they’s things about the stubborn will o’ woman I’d like
to forget. [_They look at each other across the table. There is a pause.
Finally he cannot stand her accusing glance. He looks away, gets to his
feet, walks about, then sits down again, his face set determinedly--with
a grim smile._] Well, here we be, Sarah--alone together for the first
time since--
MRS. BARTLETT--[_Quickly._] Since that night, Isaiah.
BARTLETT--[_As if he hadn’t heard._] Since I come back to you, almost.
Did ye ever stop to think o’ how strange it be we’d ever come to this? I
never dreamed a day’d come when ye’d force me to sleep away from ye,
alone in a shed like a mangy dog!
MRS. BARTLETT--[_Gently._] I didn’t drive you away, Isaiah. You came o’
your own will.
BARTLETT--Because o’ your naggin’ tongue, woman--and the wrong ye
thought o’ me.
MRS. BARTLETT--[_Shaking her head, slowly._] It wasn’t me you ran from,
Isaiah. You ran away from your own self--the conscience God put in you
that you think you can fool with lies.
BARTLETT--[_Starting to his feet--angrily._] Lies?
MRS. BARTLETT--It’s the truth, Isaiah, only you be too weak to face it.
BARTLETT--[_With defiant bravado._] Ye’ll find I be strong enough to
face anything, true or lie! [_Then protestingly._] What call have ye to
think evil o’ me, Sarah? It’s mad o’ ye to hold me to account for things
I said in my sleep--for the damned nightmares that set me talkin’ wild
when I’d just come home and my head was still cracked with the thirst
and the sun I’d borne on that island. Is that right, woman, to be
blamin’ me for mad dreams?
MRS. BARTLETT--You confessed the rest of what you said was true--of the
gold you’d found and buried there.
BARTLETT--[_With a sudden fierce exultation._] Aye--that be true as
Bible, Sarah. When I’ve sailed back in the schooner, ye’ll see for
yourself. There be a big chest o’ it, yellow and heavy, and fixed up
with diamonds, emeralds and sech, that be worth more, even, nor the
gold. We’ll be rich, Sarah--rich like I’ve always dreamed we’d be!
There’ll be silks and carriages for ye--all the woman’s truck in the
world ye’ve a mind to want--and all that Nat and Sue’ll want, too.
MRS. BARTLETT--[_With a shudder._] Are you tryin’ to bribe me,
Isaiah--with a treasure that’s been cursed by God?
BARTLETT--[_As if he hadn’t heard._] D’ye remember long ago, back East,
just after we was married, and I was skipper o’ my first whalin’ ship,
how that foreigner come to me with the map o’ the pirates’ gold and
asked me to charter the ship? D’ye remember o’ how I’d talk to ye o’
findin’ ambergris, a pile o’ it on one vige that’d make us rich? Ye used
to take interest then, and all th’ voyage with me ye’d be hopin’ I’d
find it, too.
MRS. BARTLETT--That was my sin o’ greed that I’m bein’ punished for now.
BARTLETT--[_Again as if he hadn’t heard._] And now when it’s come to us
at last--bigger nor I ever dreamed on--ye drive me away from ye and say
it’s cursed.
MRS. BARTLETT--[_Inexorably._] Cursed with the blood o’ the man and boy
ye murdered!
BARTLETT--[_In a mad rage._] Ye lie, woman! I spoke no word!
MRS. BARTLETT--That’s what you kept repeatin’ in your sleep, night after
night that first week you was home, till I knew the truth, and could
bear no more. “I spoke no word!” you kept sayin’, as if ’twas your own
soul had you at the bar of judgment. And “That cook, he didn’t believe
’twas gold,” you’d say, and curse him.
BARTLETT--[_Wildly._] He was lyin’, the thief! Lyin’ so’s he and the boy
could steal th’ gold. I made him own up he was lyin’. What if it’s all
true, what ye heard? Hadn’t we the right to do away with two thieves?
And we was all mad with thirst and sun. Can ye hold madmen to account
for the things they do?
MRS. BARTLETT--You wasn’t so crazed but you remember.
BARTLETT--I remember I spoke no word, Sarah--as God’s my judge!
MRS. BARTLETT--But you could have prevented it with a word, couldn’t
you, Isaiah? That heathen savage lives in the fear of you. He’d not have
done it if----
BARTLETT--[_Gloomily._] That’s woman’s talk. There be three o’ us can
swear in any court I spoke no word.
MRS. BARTLETT--What are courts? Can you swear it to yourself? You can’t,
and it’s that’s drivin’ you mad, Isaiah. Oh, I’d never have believed it
of you for all you said in sleep, if it wasn’t for the way you looked
and acted out of sleep. I watched you that first week, Isaiah, till the
fear of it had me down sick. I had to watch you, you was so strange and
fearful to me. At first I kept sayin’, ’twas only you wasn’t rid o’ the
thirst and the sun yet. But then, all to once, God gave me sight, and I
saw ’twas guilt written on your face, on the queer stricken way you
acted, and guilt in your eyes. [_She stares into them._] I see it now,
as I always see it when you look at me. [_She covers her face with her
hands with a sob._]
BARTLETT--[_His face haggard and drawn--hopelessly, as if he were too
beaten to oppose her further--in a hoarse whisper._] What would ye have
me do, Sarah?
MRS. BARTLETT--[_Taking her hands from her face--her eyes lighting up
with religious fervor._] Confess your sin, Isaiah! Confess to God and
men, and make your peace and take your punishment. Forget that gold
that’s cursed and the voyage you be settin’ out on, and make your peace.
[_Passionately._] I ask you to do this for my sake and the children’s,
and your own most of all! I’ll get down on my knees, Isaiah, and pray
you to do it, as I’ve prayed to God to send you his grace! Confess and
wash your soul of the stain o’ blood that’s on it. I ask you that,
Isaiah--and God asks you--to make your peace with Him.
BARTLETT--[_His face tortured by the inward struggle--as if the word
strangled him._] Confess and let someone steal the gold! [_This thought
destroys her influence over him in a second. His obsession regains
possession of him instantly, filling him with rebellious strength. He
laughs harshly._] Ye’d make an old woman o’ me, would ye, Sarah?--an
old, Sunday go-to-meetin’ woman snivvelin’ and prayin’ to God for
pardon! Pardon for what? Because two sneakin’ thieves are dead and done
for? I spoke no word, I tell ye--but if I had, I’d not repent it. What
I’ve done I’ve done, and I’ve never asked pardon o’ God or men for ought
I’ve done, and never will. Confess, and give up the gold I’ve dreamed of
all my life that I’ve found at last! By thunder, ye must think I’m
crazed!
MRS. BARTLETT--[_Seeming to shrivel up on her chair as she sees she has
lost--weakly._] You be lost, Isaiah--no one can stop you.
BARTLETT--[_Triumphantly._] Aye, none’ll stop me. I’ll go my course
alone. I’m glad ye see that, Sarah.
MRS. BARTLETT--[_Feebly trying to get to her feet._] I’ll go to home.
BARTLETT--Ye’ll stay, Sarah. Ye’ve had your say, and I’ve listened to
ye; now I’ll have mine and ye listen to me. [MRS. BARTLETT _sinks back
in her chair exhaustedly_. BARTLETT _continues slowly_.] The schooner
sails at dawn on the full tide. I ask ye again and for the last time,
will ye christen her with your name afore she sails?
MRS. BARTLETT--[_Firmly._] No.
BARTLETT--[_Menacingly._] Take heed, Sarah, o’ what ye’re sayin’! I’m
your husband ye’ve sworn to obey. By right I kin order ye, not ask.
MRS. BARTLETT--I’ve never refused in anything that’s right--but this be
wicked wrong.
BARTLETT--It’s only your stubborn woman’s spite makes ye refuse. Ye’ve
christened every ship I’ve ever been skipper on, and it’s brought me
luck o’ a kind, though not the luck I wanted. And we’ll christen this
one with your own name to bring me the luck I’ve always been seekin’.
MRS. BARTLETT--[_Resolutely._] I won’t, Isaiah.
BARTLETT--Ye will, Sarah, for I’ll make ye. Ye force me to it.
MRS. BARTLETT--[_Again trying to get up._] Is this the way you talk to
me who’ve been a good wife to you for more than thirty years?
BARTLETT--[_Commandingly._] Wait! [_Threateningly._] If ye don’t
christen her afore she sails, I’ll take Nat on the vige along with me.
[MRS. BARTLETT _sinks back in her chair, stunned_.] He wants to go, ye
know it. He’s asked me a hundred times. He s’spects--’bout the gold--but
he don’t know for sartin. But I’ll tell him the truth o’ it, and he’ll
come with me, unless--
MRS. BARTLETT--[_Looking at him with terror-stricken
eyes--imploringly._] You won’t do that, Isaiah? You won’t take Nat away
from me and drag him into sin? I know he’ll go if you give him the word,
in spite of what I say. [_Pitifully._] You be only frightenin’ me! You
can’t be so wicked cruel as that.