The Drone Part 12

JOHN (_astonished_). What?

DANIEL. You've been kind, John. Very kind. We always pulled well together, and never had much cross words with one another, but--well, circ.u.mstances are altered now.

JOHN. You mean because I'm going to marry Sarah.

DANIEL. Exactly. That puts an end to our long and pleasant sojourn here together. I'll have to go.

JOHN (_affected_). Oh easy, Daniel. Ah, now, Sarah always liked you.

She thinks a deal of you, and I'm sure she'd miss you out of the house as much as myself.

DANIEL. John, I know better. She wants me out of this, and I would only be a source of unhappiness. I wouldn't like to cause you sorrow.

She doesn't believe in me. She brought that Scotchman over to try and show me up. You all think he did. You think I mugged the thing. You don't believe in me now yourself. (_He puts a few articles of clothing, &c., into the bag._)

JOHN (_awkwardly_). Aye. Well--to tell you the truth, Daniel, you did not make much of a hand at explaining, you----

DANIEL (_pathetically_). I thought so. Look here. One word. (_He draws_ JOHN _aside._) Do you think Mackenzie invented that patent reciprocating piston that he's so proud of?

JOHN (_looking at him in amazement_). What?

DANIEL (_impressively_). Well. I know something about that. He stole it off another man, and took all the profits. I knew that. Do you think I'm going to give away the product of my brains explaining it to a man like that! No fear, John. (_He turns again to the bag._) I'm taking details of my bellows, and my coat, and a few socks, and the pound you gave me yesterday, and I'm going to face the world alone.

JOHN (_moved_). No, no. You'll not leave me, Daniel. Ah, no. I never meant that.

DANIEL. If she's coming here I'll have to go, and may as well now.

SARAH (_without_). John Murray!

DANIEL (_retreating slowly to the workshop_). I'm going to get that other coat you gave me. It's better than this one for seeing people in. (_He goes into workshop as_ SARAH _comes out into the kitchen. She is evidently displeased._)

SARAH. Hurry up, John. The company's waiting on you, and I don't know what's keeping you. Unless it was that brother of yours, more shame to him.

JOHN. Aye. Daniel kept me. (_Looking at her._) He's talking of leaving. You wouldn't have that, Sarah, would you?

SARAH (_sharply_). Leaving, is he? And a right good riddance say I.

What has he done but ate up all your substance.

JOHN (_astonished_). You wouldn't put him out, Sarah?

SARAH (_snappishly_). I just wouldn't have him about the place. An idle, good for nothing, useless, old pull a cork.

JOHN. Do you not like him, Sarah? (_Somewhat disapprovingly._) You told me you thought a good deal of him before.

SARAH. Aye. Until I seen through him. Him and his letters and telegrams. Just look at that. (_She shows him the telegram._) It comes from Ballyannis.

JOHN (_scratching his head in puzzled wonder_). I don't understand that.

SARAH. He just put up some one to send it. Young McCready or someone.

You couldn't watch a man like that. No. If I come here, out he goes.

You expects me to come and save you money and the like of that old bauchle eating up the profits. (_She goes towards the door into tea room._) Come into your tea at once. (_Exit._)

JOHN. By me sang he was right. (DANIEL _comes out and starts brus.h.i.+ng his coat loudly to attract_ JOHN'S _attention, and then goes across towards him and holds out his hand._)

DANIEL. I'll say good-bye, John. Maybe I'll never see you again. (_He appears much affected._)

JOHN (_touched_). Ach. Take your time. I don't see the sense of this hurrying. Stop a week or two, man. I'll be lonesome without you. We had many a good crack in the evenings, Daniel.

DANIEL. We had, John. And I suppose now that you'll be married I'll have to go, but many a time I'll be sitting lonely and thinking of them.

JOHN. Aye. You were always the best of company, and heartsome. You were, Daniel.

DANIEL. Well, I did my best, John, to keep--(_he half breaks down_)--to keep up a good heart.

JOHN. You did. I wouldn't like to lose you, Daniel. (_He looks at the telegram in his hand._) But Daniel. This telegram. It comes from Ballyannis.

DANIEL (_taken aback, but recovering his self possession._) Ballyannis? Ballyannis? Ah, of course. Sure Gregg, that London man, he was to go through Ballyannis to-day. He's on a visit, you know, somewhere this way. It's him I'm going to look for now.

JOHN. Was that the way of it? (_With rising anger at the thought of the way in which his brother has been treated._) And she was for making you out an impostor and for putting you out. I didn't like them talking of a Murray the way they done.

DANIEL (_with sudden hope_). Are you engaged to that McMinn woman, John?

JOHN. Aye. I spoke the word the day.

DANIEL. Was there anybody there when you asked her?

JOHN. There was no one.

DANIEL. Did you write her letters?

JOHN. No. Not a line.

DANIEL. And did you visit and court much at the home?

JOHN. No. I always seen Andy on business and stopped to have a word or two with her.

DANIEL (_appealingly_). Then, John, John, it's not too late yet.

(_Desperately._) Give me--ah, give wee Mary another chance.

SARAH (_at door_). Come in, John, at once. Your tea's cold waiting, and it's no way to entertain company that.

JOHN (_angrily_). D----n her. Daniel! Out of this home you will not go. I'd rather have your crack of a winter night as two hundred pounds in the bank and yon woman. (_He reaches out his hand._) I'll break the match. (_The two men shake hands._)

(CURTAIN.)

ACT III