Plays of William E. Henley and R.L. Stevenson Part 45

GAUNT. Christopher, the facts are all against you. I find you here in my house at midnight: you who at least had eyes to see, and must have known whither you were going. It was this man, not you, who called me up: and when I came in, it was he who was uppermost and who gave you up to justice. This unsheathed cutla.s.s is yours; there hangs the scabbard, empty; and as for the dark lantern, of what use is light to the blind?

and who could have trimmed and lighted it but you?

PEW. Ah, Cap'n, what a 'ed for argyment!

KIT. And now, sir, now that you have spoken, I claim the liberty to speak on my side.

GAUNT. Not so. I will first have done with this man. David Pew, it were too simple to believe your story as you tell it; but I can find no testimony against you. From whatever reason, a.s.suredly you have done me service. Here are five guineas to set you on your way. Begone at once; and while it is yet time, think upon your repentance.

PEW. Cap'n, here's my respecks. You've turned a pious man, Cap'n; it does my 'art good to 'ear you. But you ain't the only one. O no! I came about and paid off on the other tack before you, I reckon: you ask the Chaplain of the Fleet else, as called me on the quarter-deck before old Admiral 'Awke himself (_touching his hat_), my old commander.

['David Pew,' he says, 'five-and-thirty year have I been in this trade, man and boy,' that chaplain says, 'and damme, Pew,' says he, 'if ever I seen the seaman that could rattle off his catechism within fifty mile of you. Here's five guineas out of my own pocket,' he says; 'and what's more to the pint,' he says, 'I'll speak to my reverend brother-in-law, the Bishop of Dover,' he says; 'and if ever you leave the sea, and wants a place as beadle, why damme,' says he, 'you go to him, for you're the man for him, and him for you.'

GAUNT. David Pew, you never set your foot on a King's s.h.i.+p in all your life. There lies the road.

PEW. Ah, you was always a 'ard man, Cap'n, and a 'ard man to believe, like Didymus the 'Ebrew prophet. But it's time for me to go, and I'll be going. My service to you, Cap'n: and I kiss my 'and to that lovely female.

'Time for us to go, Time for us to go, And when we'd clapped the hatches on, 'Twas time for us to go.'

SCENE IV

KIT, ARETHUSA, GAUNT

ARETHUSA. Now, Kit?

KIT. Well, sir, and now?

GAUNT. I find you here in my house at this untimely and unseemly hour; I find you there in company with one who, to my a.s.sured knowledge, should long since have swung in the wind at Execution Dock. What brought you?

Why did you open my door while I slept to such a companion? Christopher French, I have two treasures. One (_laying his hand on_ ARETHUSA'S _shoulder_) I know you covet. Christopher, is this your love?

KIT. Sir, I have been fooled and trapped. That man declared he knew you, declared he could make you change your mind about our marriage. I was drunk, sir, and I believed him: heaven knows I am sober now, and can see my folly; but I believed him then, and followed him. He brought me here, he told me your chest was full of gold that would make men of us for life. At that I saw my fault, sir, and drew my cutla.s.s; and he, in the wink of an eye, roared out for help, leaped at my throat like a weasel and had me rolling on the floor. He was quick, and I, as I tell you, sir, was off my balance.

GAUNT. Is this man, Pew, your enemy?

KIT. No sir; I never saw him till to-night.

GAUNT. Then, if you must stand the justice of your country, come to the proof with a better plea. What? lantern and cutla.s.s yours; you the one that knew the house; you the one that saw; you the one overtaken and denounced; and you spin me a galley yarn like that? If that is all your defence, you'll hang, sir, hang.

ARETHUSA. Ah! Father, I give him up: I will never see him, never speak to him, never think of him again; I take him from my heart; I give myself wholly up to you and to my mother; I will obey you in every point-O, not at a word merely-at a finger raised! I will do all this; I will do anything-anything you bid me; I swear it in the face of heaven.

Only-Kit! I love him, father, I love him. Let him go.

[GAUNT. Go?

ARETHUSA. You let the other. Open the door again-for my sake, father-in my mother's name-O, open the door and let him go.]

KIT. Let me go? My girl, if you had cast me out is morning, good and well: I would have left you, though it broke my heart. But it's a changed story now; now I'm down on my luck, and you come and stab me from behind. I ask no favour, and I'll take none; I stand here on my innocence, and G.o.d helping me I'll clear my good name, and get your love again, if it's love worth having. [Now, Captain Gaunt, I've said my say, and you may do your pleasure. I am my father's son, and I never feared to face the truth.

GAUNT. You have spoken like a man, French, and you may go. I leave you free.

KIT. Nay, sir, not so: not with my will. I'm accused and counted guilty; the proofs are against me; the girl I love has turned upon me.

I'll accept no mercy at your hands.] Captain Gaunt, I am your prisoner.

ARETHUSA. Kit, dear Kit-

GAUNT. Silence! Young man, I have offered you liberty without bond or condition. You refuse. You shall be judged. Meanwhile (_opening the door_, _R._), you will go in here. I keep your cutla.s.s. The night brings counsel: to-morrow shall decide. (_He locks_ KIT _in_, _leaving the key in the door_.)

SCENE V

GAUNT, ARETHUSA, _afterwards_ PEW

ARETHUSA. Father, you believe in him; you do; I know you do.

GAUNT. Child, I am not given to be hasty. I will pray and sleep upon this matter. (_A knocking at the door_, _C._) Who knocks so late? (_He opens_.)

PEW (_entering_). Cap'n, shall I fetch the constable?

GAUNT. No.

PEW. No? Have ye killed him?

GAUNT. My man, I'll see you into the road. (_He takes_ PEW _by the arm_, _and goes out with him_.)

SCENE VI

ARETHUSA

ARETHUSA. (_Listens_; _then running to door_, _R._) Kit-dearest! wait!

I will come to you soon. (GAUNT _re-enters_, _C._, _as the drop falls_.)

ACT IV.

_The Stage represents the Admiral's house_, _as in Acts I. and III_. _A chair_, _L._, _in front_. _As the curtain rises_, _the Stage is dark_.

_Enter_ ARETHUSA, _L._, _with candle_; _she lights another_; _and pa.s.ses to door_, _R._, _which she unbolts_. _Stage light_

SCENE I

ARETHUSA, KIT