One-Act Plays Part 9

ANNE [_lamentably_]. Louis, Louis! Why didn't you lie safe in England?

LOUIS [_smiling_]. Anne, Anne! I had to come back for a good sister of mine.

ANNE. But I could have escaped alone.

LOUIS. That is it--"alone"! [_He lowers his voice as he glances toward the open door._] For she would not have moved at all if I hadn't come to bully her into it. A fanatic, a fanatic!

ANNE [_brusquely_]. She is a fool. Therefore be patient with her.

LOUIS [_warningly_]. Hush.

ELOISE [_in a loud, careless tone from the other room_]. Oh, I heard you! What does it matter? [_She returns, carrying a handsome skirt and bodice of brocade and a woman's long mantle of light-green cloth, hooded and lined with fur. She drops them into the portmanteau and closes it._] There! I've finished your packing for you.

LOUIS [_rising_]. My cousin, I regret that we could not provide servants for this flight. [_Bowing formally._] I regret that we have been compelled to ask you to do a share of what is necessary.

ELOISE [_turning to go out again_]. That all?

LOUIS [_lifting the portmanteau_]. I fear--

ELOISE [_with a.s.sumed fatigue_]. Yes, you usually do. What now?

LOUIS [_flus.h.i.+ng painfully_]. The portmanteau is too heavy. [_He returns to the desk, sits, and busies himself with his writing, keeping his grieved face from her view._]

ELOISE. You mean you're too weak to carry it?

LOUIS. Suppose at the last moment it becomes necessary to hasten exceedingly--

ELOISE. You mean, suppose you had to run, you'd throw away the portmanteau. [_Contemptuously._] Oh, I don't doubt you'd do it!

LOUIS [_forcing himself to look up at her cheerfully_]. I dislike to leave my baggage upon the field, but in case of a rout it might be a temptation--if it were an impediment.

ANNE [_peremptorily_]. Don't waste time. Lighten the portmanteau.

LOUIS. You may take out everything of mine.

ELOISE. There's nothing of yours in it except your cloak. You don't suppose--

ANNE. Take out that heavy brocade of mine.

ELOISE. Thank you for not wis.h.i.+ng to take out my fur-lined cloak and freezing me at sea!

LOUIS [_gently_]. Take out both the cloak and the dress.

ELOISE [_astounded_]. What!

LOUIS. You shall have mine. It is as warm, but not so heavy.

ELOISE [_angrily_]. Oh, I am sick of your eternal packing and unpacking! I am sick of it!

ANNE. Watch at the window, then. [_She goes swiftly to the portmanteau, opens it, tosses out the green mantle and the brocaded skirt and bodice, and tests the weight of the portmanteau._] I think it will be light enough now, Louis.

LOUIS. Do not leave those things in sight. If our landlord should come in--

ANNE. I'll hide them in the bed in the next room. Eloise! [_She points imperiously to the window. ELOISE goes to it slowly and for a moment makes a scornful pretense of being on watch there; but as soon as MADAME DE LASEYNE has left the room she turns, leaning against the wall and regarding Louis with languid amus.e.m.e.nt. He continues to struggle with his ill-omened "permit," but, by and by, becoming aware of her gaze, glances consciously over his shoulder and meets her half-veiled eyes. Coloring, he looks away, stares dreamily at nothing, sighs, and finally writes again, absently, like a man under a spell, which, indeed, he is. The pen drops from his hand with a faint click upon the floor. He makes the movement of a person suddenly awakened, and, holding his last writing near one of the candles, examines it critically. Then he breaks into low, bitter laughter._]

ELOISE [_unwillingly curious_]. You find something amusing?

LOUIS. Myself. One of my mistakes, that is all.

ELOISE [_indifferently_]. Your mirth must be indefatigable if you can still laugh at those.

LOUIS. I agree. I am a history of error.

ELOISE. You should have made it a vocation; it is your one genius. And yet--truly because I am a fool I think, as Anne says--I let you hector me into a sillier mistake than any of yours.

LOUIS. When?

ELOISE [_flinging out her arms_]. Oh, when I consented to this absurd journey, this _tiresome_ journey--with _you_! An "escape"? From nothing. In "disguise." Which doesn't disguise.

LOUIS [_his voice taut with the effort for self-command_]. My sister asked me to be patient with you, Eloise--

ELOISE. Because I am a fool, yes. Thanks. [_Shrewishly._] And then, my worthy young man? [_He rises abruptly, smarting almost beyond endurance._]

LOUIS [_breathing deeply_]. Have I not been patient with you?

ELOISE [_with a flash of energy_]. If _I_ have asked you to be anything whatever--with me!--pray recall the pet.i.tion to my memory.

LOUIS [_beginning to let himself go_]. Patient! Have I ever been anything but patient with you? Was I not patient with you five years ago when you first harangued us on your "Rights of Man" and your monstrous republicanism? Where you got hold of it all I don't know--

ELOISE [_kindling_]. Ideas, my friend. Naturally, incomprehensible to you. Books! Brains! Men!

LOUIS. "Books! Brains! Men!" Treason, poison, and mobs! Oh, I could laugh at you then: they were only beginning to kill us, and I was patient. Was I not patient with you when these Republicans of yours drove us from our homes, from our country, stole all we had, a.s.sa.s.sinated us in dozens, in hundreds, murdered our King? [_He walks the floor, gesticulating nervously._] When I saw relative after relative of my own--aye, and of yours, too--dragged to the abattoir--even poor, harmless, kind Andre de Laseyne, whom they took simply because he was my brother-in-law--was I not patient? And when I came back to Paris for you and Anne, and had to lie hid in a stable, every hour in greater danger because you would not be persuaded to join us, was I not patient? And when you finally did consent, but protested every step of the way, pouting and--

ELOISE [_stung_]. "Pouting!"

LOUIS. And when that stranger came posting after us so obvious a spy--

ELOISE [_scornfully_]. Pooh! He is nothing.

LOUIS. Is there a league between here and Paris over which he has not dogged us? By diligence, on horseback, on foot, turning up at every posting-house, every roadside inn, the while you laughed at me because I read death in his face! These two days we have been here, is there an hour when you could look from that window except to see him grinning up from the wine-shop door down there?

ELOISE [_impatiently, but with a somewhat conscious expression_]. I tell you not to fear him. There is nothing in it.

LOUIS [_looking at her keenly_]. Be sure I understand why you do not think him a spy! You believe he has followed us because you--

ELOISE. I expected that! Oh, I knew it would come! [_Furiously._] I never saw the man before in my life!

LOUIS [_pacing the floor_]. He is unmistakable; his trade is stamped on him; a hired trailer of your precious "Nation's."