The Servant in the House Part 29

[There is a general rapturous excitement.]

VICAR. Praise G.o.d! Shew him in at once!

ROGERS [flabbergasted]. What! In '_ere_, sir? . . .

VICAR. Come, come, come!

[ROGERS'S cosmos is fast slipping away: he crawls abjectly to the door: his hand on the k.n.o.b, he turns once more a face of bewildered inquiry upon the VICAR, who snaps his fingers impatiently.]

ROGERS [with a sickly smile]. 'E's just outside, sir.

[Opening the door, he whines.]

Oh, do come in.

[ROBERT enters, amply fulfilling the lad's description. The latter lags out, nauseated with the world.]

[ROBERT stands up stage, in the middle: AUNTIE and VICAR, down stage, one on either side. MARY with her aunt.]

ROBERT. Can I be 'eard civil in this 'ouse, if I speak a few words?

[They make a movement as towards him.]

'Old back! Don't you come near me! Don't you so much as speak till I've done! . . .

[To Auntie and Vicar respectively]. You don't know me: you don't know me . . . Understand?

There's no one 'ere as knows oo I am, excep' one little gel--'er over there. Now, keep quiet! 'Ere! . . .

[MARY goes up to him.]

Tell 'em oo I am.

MARY. Why, it's my friend--the man I was telling you about! The man who looks after the drains!

ROBERT. That's about it: I'm the drain-man, _see_? Thought you might be mistakin' me for--summat else, if you wasn't told. Now you know.

[MARY'S face, as she returns, bears the first dawn of an idea. The VICAR lifts a hand of warning to AUNTIE.]

VICAR. Go on.

ROBERT. That's what I come 'ere to talk abaht--my job. P'r'aps you'll think as it ain't a tasty subjic, before a lot o' nice, clean, respectable people as never 'ad anythin' worse on their fingers than a bit of lawn-dirt, playin' crokey; but _some one_ 'as to see to the drains, _some one_ 'as to clear up the muck of the world! I'm the one.

An' I'm 'ere to tell you about it.

AUNTIE [involuntarily]. Oh! . . .

ROBERT. You don't like that, ma'am? 'Urts your feelin's, eh?

AUNTIE. Yes; but not in the way you mean,

MARY. But you know, you really are a little unpleasant!

ROBERT. I'm not 'ere to be pleasant, young leddy: I'm 'ere to edicate you.

VICAR. Yes, I think I see!

AUNTIE [breathlessly]. Go on: go on!

ROBERT. Well, I come to this 'ouse this mornin', I don't mind ownin' it, in a rotten bad frame of mind: I 'ad a little job on 'and--a job a bit above my 'ead, an' it got me dahn an' worried me: yus it did--worried me. That young leddy 'll tell you wot I was like when _she_ fust saw me: I looked that bad, she thought I come to steal summat! Well, p'r'aps I did, arter al!--summat as I 'ad no right to, summat as don't properly belong to a streaky swine like me. That was when _she_ fust saw me; but I was wuss before that, I tell you strite!

MARY [self-consciously]. What changed you?

ROBERT. A bloke I met, miss, as knowed me better than I knowed myself. 'E changed me.

AUNTIE. ) Manson! . . .

VICAR. ) Manson! . . .

MARY. ) Oh, I thought, perhaps . . .

ROBERT. Don't know 'is name; 'e was a fair knock-aht-- Got togs on 'im like an Earl's Court Exhibition . . . '_E_ changed me: 'e taught me my own mind; 'e brought me back to my own job--_drains_.

AUNTIE. Yes . . .

ROBERT. Funny thing, ma'am, peopled born different: some's born without noses in their 'eads, worth speakin' of. I wasn't--I can smell out a stink anywhere.

AUNTIE [fascinated]. I am sure you can. This is most interesting!

ROBERT [warming]. Moment I stuck my 'ead in this 'ouse, I knowed as summat was wrong in my line, and I ses to myself: _Wot oh, 'e ain't such an awl-mighty liar, arter all--that's drains_! An'

drains it was, strike me dead--arskin' your pawdon!

MARY, Now, didn't I always say . . .

ROBERT. Yus, miss, you're one o' the nosey uns, I can see! Well, soon as ole Togs got done with 'is talk, I got my smeller dahn, follered up the scent, an' afore I knowed where I was, I was in it, up to my eyes!--Out there in the room with the blood-red 'eap o'

books! Blimey, you never did see! Muck, ma'am!--Just look at my 'ands! Ain't that pretty?

'Owever, I got there, right enough, I don't fink! Fancy I put that little bit strite afore I done!

AUNTIE. Oh, this is too beautiful of you! . . .

ROBERT [burning with enthusiasm, and manifestly affected by her appreciation]. Wait a bit: I got more yet! Talk abaht bee-utiful!--That bit was on'y an ash-pan! Look 'ere, ma'am, I got the loveliest little job on as ever yer soiled yer 'ands in! . . .

MARY. Oh, do tell us! . . .

AUNTIE. ) Yes, do! . . .

VICAR. ) Yes, yes! . . .

[A splendid rapture infects them all.]

ROBERT. I followed up that drain--_I_ wasn't goin' to stick till kingdom come inside your little mouse-'ole out there: No, I said, _Where's this leadin to? What's the 'ell-an-glory use o' flus.h.i.+n'