~Alice.~ James! My love! But what can we do?
~Bootle~ (gloomily). Nothing. As a man of honour I cannot withdraw. So two lives are ruined!
~Alice.~ You are right, James. Jane must never know. Good–bye!
(They give each other a farewell embrace.)
~Jane~ (aside). They love. (Fiercely.) But he is mine; I will hold him to his promise! (Picking up a photograph of Alice as a small child from an occasional table.) Little Alice! And I promised to take care of her—to protect her from the cruel world. Baby Alice! (She puts her handkerchief to her eyes.) No! I will not spoil two lives! (Aloud.) Why good–bye, Alice?
(Bootle and Alice, who have been embracing all this time, unless they can think of something else to do, break away in surprise.)
~Alice.~ Jane—we—I―
~Jane~ (calmly). Dear Alice! I understand perfectly. Mr. Bootle said in his letter to you that he was coming for his answer, and I see what answer you have given him. (To Bootle.) You remember I told you it would be "Yes." I know my little sister, you see.
~Bootle~ (tactlessly). But—you told me I could kiss you!
~Jane~ (smiling). And I tell you again now. I believe it is usual for men to kiss their sisters–in–law? (She offers her cheek. Bootle, whose day it is, salutes her respectfully.) And now (gaily) perhaps I had better leave you young people alone!
(Exit, with a backward look at the audience expressive of the fact that she has been wearing the mask.)
~Bootle.~ Alice, then you are mine, after all!
~Alice.~ James! (They k― No, perhaps better not. There has been quite enough for one evening.) And to think that she knew all the time. Now I am quite, quite happy. And James—you will remember in future that I am Miss Alice Prendergast?
~Bootle~ (gaily). My dear, I shall only be able to remember that you are The Future Mrs. Bootle!
CURTAIN.
XLIII
"At Dead of Night"
The stage is in semi–darkness as Dick Trayle throws open the window from outside, puts his knee on the sill, and falls carefully into the drawing–room of Beeste Hall. He is dressed in a knickerbocker suit with arrows on it (such as can always be borrowed from a friend), and, to judge from the noises which he emits, is not in the best of training. The lights go on suddenly; and he should seize this moment to stagger to the door and turn on the switch. This done he sinks into the nearest chair and closes his eyes.
If he has been dancing very late the night before, he may drop into a peaceful sleep; in which case the play ends here. Otherwise, no sooner are his eyes closed than he opens them with a sudden start and looks round in terror.
~Dick~ (striking the keynote at once). No, no! Let me out—I am innocent! (He gives a gasp of relief as he realises the situation.) Free! It is true, then! I have escaped! I dreamed that I was back in prison again! (He shudders and helps himself to a large whisky–and–soda, which he swallows at a gulp.) That's better! Now I feel a new man—the man I was three years ago. Three years! It has been a lifetime! (Pathetically to the audience.) Where is Millicent now? (The audience guesses that she is in the making–up room, but musn't say so.) Alas! (He falls into a reverie, from which he is suddenly wakened by a noise outside. He starts, and then creeps rapidly to the switch, arriving there at the moment when the lights go out. Then he goes swiftly behind the window curtain. The lights go up again as Jasper Beeste comes in with a revolver in one hand and a bull's–eye lantern of apparently enormous candle power in the other.)
~Jasper~ (in immaculate evening dress). I thought I heard a noise, so I slipped on some old things hurriedly and came down. (Fingering his perfectly–tied tie.) But there seems to be nobody here. (Turns round suddenly to the window.) Ha, who's there? Hands up, blow you (he ought to swear rather badly here, really) hands up or I fire!
(The stage is suddenly plunged into darkness, there is the noise of a struggle, and the lights go on to reveal Jasper by the door covering Dick with his revolver.)
~Jasper.~ Let's have a little light on you. (Brutally.) Now then, my man, what have you got to say for yourself? Ha! An escaped convict, eh?
~Dick~ (to himself, in amazement). Jasper Beeste!
~Jasper.~ So you know my name?
~Dick~ (in the tones of a man whose whole life has been blighted by the machinations of a false friend). Yes, Jasper Beeste, I know your name. For two years I have said it to myself every night, when I prayed Heaven that I should meet you again.
~Jasper.~ Again? (Uneasily.) We have met before?
~Dick~ (slowly). We have met before, Jasper Beeste. Since then I have lived a lifetime of misery. You may well fail to recognise me.
Enter Millicent Wilsdon—in a dressing gown, with her hair over her shoulders, if the county will stand it.
~Millicent~ (to Jasper). I couldn't sleep—I heard a noise—I—(suddenly seeing the other) Dick! (She trembles.)
~Dick.~ Millicent! (He trembles too.)
~Jasper.~ Trayle! (So does he.)
~Dick~ (bitterly). You shrink from me, Millicent. (With strong common sense.) What is an escaped convict to the beautiful Miss Wilsdon?
~Millicent.~ Dick—I—you—when you were sentenced―
~Dick.~ When I was sentenced—the evidence was black against me, I admit—I wrote and released you from your engagement. You are married now?
~Millicent~ (throwing herself on a sofa). Oh, Dick!
~Jasper~ (recovering himself). Enough of this. Miss Wilsdon is going to marry me tomorrow.
~Dick.~ To marry you! (He strides over to sofa and pulls Millicent to her feet.) Millicent, look me in the eyes! Do you love him? (She turns away.) Say "Yes" and I will go back quietly to my prison. (She raises her eyes to his.) Ha! I thought so! You don't love him! Now then I can speak.
~Jasper~ (advancing threateningly). Yes, to your friends, the warders. Millicent, ring the bell.
~Dick~ (wresting the revolver from his grasp). Ha, would you? Now stand over there and listen to me. (He arranges his audience, Millicent on a sofa on the right, Jasper, biting his finger nails, on the left.) Three years ago Lady Wilsdon's diamond necklace was stolen. My flat was searched and the necklace was found in my hatbox. Although I protested my innocence I was tried, found guilty, and sentenced to ten years' penal servitude, followed by fifteen years' police supervision.