SUE--Poor Danny! He’s been through terrible things.
DOCTOR--Hmm! Rangoon.
SUE--Yes, he’s still in the hospital there. You’ll see.
DOCTOR--[_Reads the letter--grunts with astonishment--angrily._] By
Gad! The damn scoundrels!
SUE--[_Shuddering._] Yes, wasn’t it hideous--those awful men stabbing
him and leaving him for dead in that out of the way native settlement!
The natives nursed him back to life, have you got that far yet? And then
he was laid up for four months there waiting for a vessel to touch and
take him back to civilization. And then, think of it, getting the fever
on top of all that and nearly dying in the hospital in Rangoon!
DOCTOR--A terrible time of it! He’s lucky to be alive. Hmm. I see he
foresaw the wreck of the schooner. Those brutes couldn’t navigate.
[_Folding the letter and putting it back._] He doesn’t seem to have
found out what the purpose of that mad trip was. Horne hid it from him
to the last, he says. Well, it’s queer--damn queer. But I’m glad to know
those wretches have gone to their final accounting.
SUE--[_With a shudder._] I was always afraid of them. They looked
like--murderers. [_At a noise from below they both start. Steps can be
heard climbing the stairs._ SUE _jumps to her feet frightenedly_.]
Why--do you hear--who can that be? [_There is a soft rap on the door.
The Doctor jumps to his feet._ SUE _turns to him with a half-hysterical
laugh_.] Shall I open? I don’t know why--but I’m afraid.
DOCTOR--Tut-tut! I’ll see who it is. [_He opens the door and_ NAT _is
discovered on the stairs outside_.] Why hello, boy. You gave us a
scare. Susan thought it was a ghost knocking.
NAT--[_Comes into the room. He has aged, grown thin, his face gaunt and
drawn from continual mental strain, his eyes moody and preoccupied. He
glances up at the skylight apprehensively, then turns to_ SUE.] I didn’t
find you downstairs so I---- [_Then to the Doctor._] Yes, you do grow to
look for ghosts in this house, don’t you? [_Again glancing upward._]
He’s up there as usual, I suppose--looking for a ship that’ll _never,
never come now_!
DOCTOR--[_With a grunt of approval._] I’m glad to hear you acknowledge
that.
SUE--[_Who is just recovering from her fright._] But, Nat, I didn’t
expect you---- Did you find out----?
NAT--Yes, I talked with several of the men who were on board at the
time. They said they steamed in so close to the schooner it was easy to
read the name with the naked eye. All agreed--Sarah Allen, Harborport.
They even remembered how her tafrail was painted. There’s no chance for
mistake. The Sarah Allen is gone. [_With great emphasis._] And I’m
glad--damn glad! I feel as if a weight of lead had been taken off my
brain. I feel free again, and I can go back to work--but not here. I’ve
got to go away--start new altogether.
SUE--[_Happily, coming and putting her arms around him._] It’s so good
to hear you talk like your old self again.
DOCTOR--[_Earnestly._] Yes, Nat, by Gad, that’s sound sense. Get out of
this.
NAT--[_Giving him a queer look._] I suppose you thought I was doomed,
eh?--like him. [_He makes a motion upward--then with an uncertain
laugh._] A doctor’s always looking for trouble where there isn’t any.
[_In a tone of finality._] Well, it’s all over, anyway.
SUE--[_Snatching the letter from the table._] Oh, I was forgetting, Nat.
Read this. I got it yesterday.
NAT--[_Turns it over in his hands suspiciously._] Who from?
SUE--Open it and see.
NAT--[_Does so and turns over the pages to read the signature--he gives
a start--hoarsely._] Danny! It can’t be! But it’s his writing sure
enough! [_He exclaims with a sudden wild exultation._] Then they must
have been lying to me!
SUE--No, the Sarah Allen was wrecked all right, but that was afterwards.
He wasn’t on board then. Read it. You’ll see. [NAT _sinks back on a
chair, evidently depressed by this information. He starts to read the
letter with unconcealed indifference, then becomes engrossed, excited,
the paper trembling in his hands. The Doctor shakes his head at_ SUE
_indicating his disapproval of her giving him the letter_. NAT
_finishes and springs to his feet--angrily_.]
NAT--The stupid fool! He let Horne pull the wool over his eyes in fine
shape. He deserved all he got for being so dumb!
SUE--[_Indignantly._] Nat!
NAT--[_Unheedingly._] Oh, if I could only have gone in his place! I knew
the kind Horne was. He couldn’t have played that trick on me. I’d have
forced the secret out of him if I had to---- [_He raises his clenched
fist in a gesture of threat like his father’s--then lets it fall and
sits down again--disgustedly._] But what’s the use? And what’s the use
of this? [_Tosses the letter contemptuously on the table._] He might
just as well not have written. We’re no wiser than we were before.
SUE--[_Snatching up the letter--deeply hurt._] Aren’t you even glad to
hear Danny’s alive?
NAT--[_Turning to her at once--with remorseful confusion._] Yes--yes--of
course, Sue--I don’t have to say that, do I? What I mean is, he never
found out from Horne--and we’re no wiser.
DOCTOR--[_Briskly--with a significant glance at_ SUE.] Well,
Susan--Nat--I’ve got to run along--[_Meaningly._] I’ll be over again
tomorrow, Susan.
SUE--Yes, do come. [_Goes with him to the door._] Can you see your way?
DOCTOR--Yes. Good night.
SUE--Good night. [_She closes the door and comes back to_ NAT. _The
Doctor’s footsteps die out._]
NAT--[_Savagely._] That damned old fool! What is he doing, sneaking
around here all the time? I’ve grown to hate the sight of him.
SUE--Nat! You can’t mean that. Think of how kind he’s been.
NAT--Yes--kindness with a purpose.
SUE--Don’t be silly. What purpose could he have except wanting to help
us?
NAT--To find out things, of course, you simpleton. To pump Pa when he’s
not responsible for what he’s saying.
SUE--[_Indignantly._] Nat!
NAT--Much good it’s done him! I know Pa. Sane or not, he won’t tell
_that_ to anyone--not even you or me, Sue. [_With sudden fury._] I’m
going away--but before I go I’m going to make him tell me! He won’t
refuse this time when he knows I’m leaving for good. He’ll be glad then.
He’s been so afraid I’d find out, so scared to speak to me even--locking
himself up here. But I’ll make him tell--yes, I will!
SUE--Careful, Nat. He’ll hear you if you shout like that.
NAT--But we have a right to know--his own children. What if he dies
without ever speaking?
SUE--[_Uneasily._] Be sensible, Nat. There’s nothing to tell except in
your imagination. [_Taking his arm--persuasively._] Come on downstairs.
I’ll get you something to eat. You must be starved, aren’t you?
NAT--No--I don’t know--I suppose I ought to be. [_He gets to his feet
and glances around with a shudder._] What a place for him to build to
wait in--like the cabin of a ship sunk deep under the sea--like the
Sarah Allen’s cabin as it is now, probably. [_With a shiver._] There’s a
chill comes over you. No wonder he’s mad. [_He listens._] Hear him. A
year ago today she sailed. I wonder if he knows that. Back and forth,
always staring out to sea for the Sarah Allen. Ha-ha! God! It would be
funny if it didn’t make your flesh creep. [_Brusquely._] Come on. Let’s
leave him and go down where there’s light and warmth. [_They go down the
stairs, closing the door behind them. There is a pause. Then the door of
the companionway above is heard being opened and shut. A gust of wind
sweeps down into the room._ BARTLETT _stamps down the stairs. The
madness which has taken almost complete possession of him in the past
year is clearly stamped on his face, particularly in his eyes which seem
to stare through and beyond objects with a hunted, haunted expression.
His movements suggest an automaton obeying invisible wires. They are
quick, jerky, spasmodic. He appears to be laboring under a state of
extraordinary excitement. He stands for a second at the foot of the
stairs, peering about him suspiciously. Then he goes to the table and
sits down on the edge of a chair, his chin supported on his hands._]
BARTLETT--[_Takes a folded piece of paper from his pocket and spreads it
out on the table in the light of the lantern--pointing with his
finger--mumblingly._] Where the cross be--ye’ll not forget that, Silas
Horne. Ye had a copy o’ this--no chance for a mistake, bullies--the
gold’s there, restin’ safe--back to me and we’ll share it fair and
square. A year ago today--ye remember the orders I wrote ye, Horne.
[_Threateningly._] Ye’ll not be gone more nor a year or I’ll--and if ye
make port to home here at night, hang a red and a green light at the
mainm’st head so I’ll see ye comin.’ A red and a green---- [_He
springs up suddenly and goes to a porthole to look out at the
sea--disappointedly._] No light be there--but they’ll come. The year be
up today and ye’ve got to come or I’ll---- [_He sinks back on the chair,
his head in his hands. Suddenly he starts and stares straight in front
of him as if he saw something in the air--with angry defiance._] Aye,
there ye be again--the two o’ ye! Makin’ a mock o’ me! Brass and junk,
ye say, not worth a damn! Ye don’t believe, do ye? I’ll show ye! [_He
springs to his feet and makes a motion as if grabbing someone by the
throat and shaking them--savagely._] Ye lie! Is it gold or no? Answer
me! [_With a mocking laugh._] Aye, ye own up to it now, right enough.
Too late, ye swabs! No share for ye! [_He sinks back on the chair
again--after a pause, dully._] Jimmy’s gone. Let them rot. But I spoke
no word, Silas Horne, remember! [_Then in a tone of fear._] Be ye dyin’,
Sarah? No, ye must live--live to see your ship come home with the
gold--and I’ll buy ye all in the world ye set your heart on. No, not
ambergris, Sarah--gold and diamonds and sech! We’re rich at last! [_Then
with great anguish._] What woman’s stubborn talk be this? Confess, ye
say? But I spoke no word, I swear to ye! Why will ye hound me and think
evil o’ what I done? Men’s business, I tell ye. They would have killed
us and stolen the gold, can’t ye see? [_Wildly._] Enough o’ talk, Sarah!
I’ll sail out in spite o’ ye! [_He gets to his feet and paces up and
down the room. The door in the rear is opened and_ NAT _re-enters. He
glances at his father, then looks down the stairs behind him cautiously
to see if he is followed. He comes in and closes the door behind him
carefully._]
NAT--[_In a low voice._] Pa! [_Then as his father does not appear to
notice his presence--louder._] Pa!
BARTLETT--[_Stops short and stares at his son as if he were gradually
awakening from a dream--slowly._] Be that ye, Nat?
NAT--[_Coming forward._] Yes. I want to talk with you.
BARTLETT--[_Struggling to bring his thoughts under control._] Talk? Ye
want to talk--to me? Men’s business--no room for a boy in it--keep clear
o’ this.
NAT--[_Defiantly._] That’s what you’ve always said. But I won’t be put
off any longer. I won’t, do you hear?
BARTLETT--[_Angrily._] I’ve ordered ye not to set foot in this cabin o’
mine. Git below where ye belong. Where’s Sue? I told her to keep ye
away.
NAT--She can’t prevent me this time. I’ve made up my mind. Listen, Pa.
I’m going away tomorrow.
BARTLETT--[_Uncertainly._] Goin’ away?
NAT--Yes, and I’m never coming back. I’m going to start a new life.
That’s why I want a final talk with you--before I go.
BARTLETT--[_Dully._] I’ve naught to say to ye.
NAT--You will have. Listen. I’ve absolute proof the Sarah Allen is lost.
BARTLETT--[_Fiercely._] Ye lie!
NAT--[_Curiously._] Why do you say that? You know it’s true. It’s just
that you _won’t believe_.
BARTLETT--[_Wanderingly--the word heading his mind into another
channel._] Believe? Aye, he wouldn’t believe. Brass and junk, he said,
not worth a damn--but in the end I made him own up ’twas gold.
NAT--[_Repeating the word fascinatedly._] Gold?
BARTLETT--A year ago today she sailed. Ye lie! Ye don’t believe either,
do ye?--like him. But I’ll show ye! I’ll make ye own up as I made him!
[_With mad exultation._] She’s comin’ home tonight as I ordered Horne
she must! I kin feel her makin’ for home, I tell ye! A red an’ a green
at the mainm’sthead if ye make port o’ night, I ordered Horne. Ye’ll
see! [_He goes to look out of a porthole._ NAT, _as if under a spell,
goes to another_.]
NAT--[_Turning away disappointedly--making an effort to throw off his
thoughts--without conviction._] Nonsense. There’s nothing there--no
lights--and I don’t believe there ever will be.
BARTLETT--[_His wild eyes fixed on his son’s with an intense effort of
will as if he were trying to break down his resistance._] Ye’ll see, I
tell ye--a red and a green! It ain’t time yet, boy, but when it be
they’ll be plain in the night afore your eyes. [_He goes and sits down
by the table._ NAT _follows him and sits down in the other chair. He
sees the map and stares at it fascinatedly._]
NAT--What is this--the map of the island? [_He reaches out his hand for
it._]
BARTLETT--[_Snatching it up--with a momentary return to
reason--frightenedly._] Not for ye, boy. Keep clear o’ this for your own
good. [_Then with a crazed triumph._] Aye! Ye’d believe this soon
enough, wouldn’t ye?
NAT--[_Intensely._] I’ve always believed there was something--and a
moment ago you mentioned gold. [_Triumphant in his turn._] So you
needn’t try to hide the secret any longer. I know now. It’s gold--gold
you found on that island--gold you fitted out the Sarah Allen to sail
back for--gold you buried where I saw that cross marked on the map!
[_Passionately._] Why have you been afraid to confide in me, your own
son? Why didn’t you let me sail back in your place? Were you afraid I’d
give the secret away? Did you think I wouldn’t believe----?
BARTLETT--[_With a mad chuckle._] Aye, ye believe now, right enough.
NAT--I always believed, I tell you. [_Pleadingly._] And now that I know
so much why can’t you tell me the rest? I must know! I have a right to
be heir to the secret. Why don’t you confess----
BARTLETT--[_Interrupting--his brain catching at the word._] Confess?
Confess, did ye say, Sarah? To Nat, did ye mean? Aye, Sarah, I’ll tell
him all and leave it to him to say if I did wrong. [_His gleaming eyes
fixed on his son’s._] I’ll tell ye, boy, from start to finish o’ it. I
been eatin’ my heart to tell someone--someone who’d believe--someone
that’d say I did no wrong. Listen, boy, ye know o’ our four days in an
open boat after the Triton went down. I told ye o’ that when I come
home. But what I didn’t tell ye was they was six o’ us in that boat, not
four.