BEMIS, appearing through the _portière_: ‘I—I beg your pardon, Mrs.
Roberts. I oughtn’t to present myself in this state—I— But I thought
I’d better stop on my way home and report, so that my son needn’t be
alarmed at my absence when he comes. I—’ He stops, exhausted, and
regards the others with a wild stare, while they stand taking note of his
disordered coat, his torn vest, and his tumbled hat. ‘I’ve just been
robbed—’
MRS. ROBERTS: ‘Robbed? Why, _Edward_ has been robbed too.’
BEMIS: ‘—coming through the Common—’
MRS. ROBERTS: ‘Yes, _Edward_ was coming through the Common.’
BEMIS: ‘—of my watch—’
MRS. ROBERTS, in rapturous admiration of the coincidence: ‘Oh, and it was
Edward’s _watch_ they took!’
WILLIS: ‘It’s a parallel case, Agnes. Pour him out a glass of cologne to
drink, and rub his head with brandy. And you might let him sit down and
rest while you’re enjoying the excitement.’
MRS. ROBERTS, in hospitable remorse: ‘Oh, what am I thinking of! Here,
Edward—or no, you’re too weak, you mustn’t. Willis, _you_ help me to
help him to the sofa.’
MRS. CRASHAW: ‘I think you’d better help him off with his overcoat and
his arctics.’ To the maid: ‘Here, Bella, if you haven’t quite taken
leave of your wits, undo his shoes.’
ROBERTS: ‘_I’ll_ help him off with his coat—’
BEMIS: ‘Careful! careful! I may be injured internally.’
MRS. ROBERTS: ‘Oh, if you only _were_, Mr. Bemis, perhaps I could
persuade Edward that he was too: I _know_ he is. Edward, don’t exert
yourself! Aunt Mary, will you _stop_ him, or do you all wish to see me
go distracted here before your eyes?’
WILLIS, examining the overcoat which Roberts has removed: ‘Well, you
won’t have much trouble buttoning and unbuttoning this coat for the
present.’
BEMIS: ‘They tore it open, and tore my watch from my vest pocket—’
WILLIS, looking at the vest: ‘I see. Pretty lively work. Were there
many of them?’
BEMIS: ‘There must have been two at least—’
MRS. ROBERTS: ‘There were half a dozen in the gang that attacked Edward.’
BEMIS: ‘One of them pulled me violently over on my back—’
MRS. ROBERTS: ‘Edward’s put _his_ arm round his neck and choked him.’
MRS. CRASHAW: ‘Agnes!’
MRS. ROBERTS: ‘I _know_ he did, Aunt Mary.’
BEMIS: ‘And the other tore my watch out of my pocket.’
MRS. ROBERTS: ‘_Edward’s_—’
MRS. CRASHAW: ‘Agnes, I’m thoroughly ashamed of you. _Will_ you stop
interrupting?’
BEMIS: ‘And left me lying in the snow.’
MRS. ROBERTS: ‘And then he ran after them, and snatched his watch away
again in spite of them all; and he didn’t call for the police, or
anything, because it was their first offence, and he couldn’t bear to
think of their suffering families.’
BEMIS, with a stare of profound astonishment: ‘Who?’
MRS. ROBERTS: ‘Edward. Didn’t I _say_ Edward, all the time?’
BEMIS: ‘I thought you meant me. I didn’t think of pursuing them; but you
may be very sure that if there had been a policeman within call—of course
there wasn’t one within cannon-shot—I should have handed the scoundrels
over without the slightest remorse.’
ROBERTS: ‘Oh!’ He sinks into a chair with a slight groan.
WILLIS: ‘What is it?’
ROBERTS: ‘’Sh! Don’t say anything. But—stay here. I want to speak with
you, Willis.’
BEMIS, with mounting wrath: ‘I should not have hesitated an instant to
give the rascal in charge, no matter who was dependent upon him—no matter
if he were my dearest friend, my own brother.’
ROBERTS, under his breath: ‘Gracious powers!’
BEMIS: ‘And while I am very sorry to disagree with Mr. Roberts, I can’t
help feeling that he made a great mistake in allowing the ruffians to
escape.’
MRS. CRASHAW, with severity: ‘I think you are quite right, Mr. Bemis.’
BEMIS: ‘Probably it was the same gang attacked us both. After escaping
from Mr. Roberts they fell upon me.’
MRS. CRASHAW: ‘I haven’t a doubt of it.’
ROBERTS, _sotto voce_ to his brother-in-law: ‘I think I’ll ask you to go
with me to my room, Willis. Don’t alarm Agnes, please. I—I feel quite
faint.’
MRS. ROBERTS, crestfallen: ‘I can’t feel that Edward was to blame.
Ed—Oh, I suppose he’s gone off to make himself presentable. But
Willis—Where’s Willis, Aunt Mary?’
MRS. CRASHAW: ‘Probably gone with him to help him.’
MRS. ROBERTS: ‘Oh, he _saw_ how unstrung poor Edward was! Mr. Bemis, I
think you’re quite prejudiced. How could Edward help their escaping? I
think it was quite enough for him, single-handed, to get his watch back.’
A ring at the door, and then a number of voices in the anteroom. ‘I do
believe they’re all there! I’ll just run out and prepare your son. He
would be dreadfully shocked if he came right in upon you.’ She runs into
the anteroom, and is heard without: ‘Oh, Dr. Lawton! Oh, Lou dear!
_Oh_, Mr. Bemis! How can I ever tell you? Your poor father! No, no, I
_can’t_ tell you! You mustn’t ask me! It’s too hideous! And you
wouldn’t believe me if I did.’
_Chorus of anguished voices_: ‘What? what? what?’
MRS. ROBERTS: ‘They’ve been robbed! Garotted on the Common! And, _oh_,
Dr. Lawton, I’m so glad _you’ve_ come! They’re both injured internally,
but I _wish_ you’d look at Edward first.’
BEMIS: ‘Good heavens! Is that Mrs. Roberts’s idea of preparing my son?
And his poor young wife!’ He addresses his demand to Mrs. Crashaw, who
lifts the hands of impotent despair.