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Bessie (_As before_). Yes.
Capt. H. (_Pointing stealthily at the sleeping Carvil_). Heavy?
Bessie. (_In a dead voice_). Like a millstone.
(_A silence_.)
Capt. H. (_Burst of indignation_). Why don't that extravagant fellow get you a servant?
Bessie. I don't know.
Capt. H. (_Cheerily_). Wait till Harry comes home. He'll get you one.
Bessie (_Almost hysterical; laughs_). Why, Captain Hagberd, perhaps your son won't even want to look at me--when he comes home.
Capt. H. (_In a great voice_). What! (_Quite low_.) The boy wouldn't dare. (_Rising choler_.) Wouldn't dare to refuse the only sensible girl for miles around. That stubborn jackanapes refuse to marry a girl like you! (_Walks about in a fury_.) You trust me, my dear, my dear, my dear.
I'll make him. I'll--I'll -------- (_Splutters_.) Cut him off with a s.h.i.+lling.
Bessie. Hus.h.!.+ (_Severe_.) You mustn't talk like that. What's this? More of your tantrums?
Capt. H. (_Quite humble_). No, no--this isn't my tantrums--when I don't feel quite well in my head. Only I can't stand this... I've grown as fond of you as if you'd been the wife of my Harry already.
And to be told-------- (_Cant restrain himself; shouts_.)
Jackanapes!
Bessie. Sh--------! Don't you worry! (_Wearily_.)
I must give that up too, I suppose. (_Aloud_.) I didn't mean it, Captain Hagberd.
Capt. H. It's as if I were to have two children to-morrow. My son Harry--and the only sensible girl--------. Why, my dear, I couldn't get on without you. We two are reasonable together. The rest of the people in this town are crazy. The way they stare at you. And the grins--they're all on the grin. It makes me dislike to go out. (_Bewildered_.) It seems as if there was something wrong about--somewhere. My dear, is there anything wrong--you who are sensible.. .
Bessie (_Soothingly tender_). No, no, Captain Hagberd. There is nothing wrong about you anywhere.
Carvil (_Lying back_). Bessie! (_Sits up_.) Get my hat, Bessie....
Bessie, my hat.... Bessie.... Bessie. ...
(_At the first sound Bessie picks up and puts away her knitting. She walks towards him, picks up hat, puts it on his head_).
Bessie, my... (_Hat on head; shouting stops_.) Bessie. (_Quietly_). Will you go in, now? Carvil. Help me up. Steady. I'm dizzy. It's the thundery weather. An autumn thunderstorm means a bad gale. Very fierce--and sudden. There will be s.h.i.+pwrecks to-night on our coast.
(_Exit Bessie and Carvil through door of their cottage. It has fallen dusk_.)
Capt. H. (_Picks up spade_). Extravagant fellow! And all this town is mad--perfectly mad. I found them out years ago. Thank G.o.d they don't come this way staring and grinning. I can't bear them. I'll never go again into that High Street. (_Agitated_.) Never, never, never. Won't need to after to-morrow. Never! (_Flings down spade in pa.s.sion_.)
(_While Hagberd speaks, the bow window of the Carvils is lit up, and Bessie is seen settling her father in a big armchair. Pulls down blind.
Enter Lamplighter. Capt. H. picks up the spade and leans forward on it with both hands; very still, watching him light the lamp_.)
Lamplighter (_Jocular_). There! You will be able to dig by lamplight if the fancy takes you.
(_Exit Lamplighter to back_.)
Capt. H. (_Disgusted_). Ough! The people here. . . (_Shudders_.)
Lamplighter's Voice (_Heard loudly beyond the cottages_). Yes, that's the way.
(_Enter Harry from back_.)
SCENE III.
(_Capt. H. Harry. Later Bessie_).
Harry Hagberd (_thirty-one, tall, broad shoulders, shaven face, small moustache. Blue serge suit. Coat open. Grey flannel s.h.i.+rt without collar and tie. No waistcoat. Belt with buckle. Black, soft felt hat, wide-brimmed, worn crushed in the crown and a little on one side. Good nature, recklessness, some swagger in the bearing. a.s.sured, deliberate walk with a heavy tread. Slight roll in the gait. Walks down. Stops, hands in pockets. Looks about. Speaks_.) This must be it. Can't see anything beyond. There's somebody. (_Walks up to Capt. Hagberd's gate?_) Can you tell me... (_Manner changes. Leans elbow on gate?_) Why, you must be Capt. Hagberd himself.
Capt. H. (_In garden, both hands on spade, peering, startled_). Yes, I am.
Harry (_Slowly_). You've been advertising in the papers for your son, I believe.
Capt. H. (_Off his guard, nervous_). Yes. My only boy Harry. He's coming home to-morrow. (_Mumbles_.) For a permanent stay.
Harry (_Surprised_). The devil he is! (_Change of tone?_) My word!
You've grown a beard like Father Christmas himself.
Capt. H. (_Impressively_). Go your way. (_Waves one hand loftily?_) What's that to you. Go your way. (_Agitated?_) Go your way.
Harry. There, there. I am not trespa.s.sing in the street--where I stand--am I? Tell you what, I fancy there's something wrong about your news. Suppose you let me come in--for a quiet chat, you know.
Capt. H. (_Horrified_). Let you--_you_ come in!
Harry (_Persuasive_). Because I could give you some real information about your son. The--very--latest--tip. If you care to hear.
Capt. H. (_Explodes_). No! I don't care to hear. (_Begins to pace to and fro, spade on shoulder. Gesticulating with his other arm_.) Here's a fellow--a grinning town fellow, who says there's something wrong.
(_Fiercely_.) I have got more information than you're aware of. I have all the information I want. I have had it for years--for years--for years--enough to last me till to-morrow! Let you come in, indeed! What would Harry say?
(_Bessie Carvil appears at cottage door with a white wrap on her head and stands in her garden trying to see_).
Bessie. What's the matter?
Capt. H. (_Beside himself_). An information fellow. (_Stumbles_.)
Harry (_Putting out arm to steady him, gravely_). Here! Steady a bit!
Seems to me somebody's been trying to get at you. (_Change of tone_.) Hullo! What's this rig you've got on?... Storm canvas coat, by George!
(_He gives a frig, throaty laugh_.) Well! You _are_ a character!
Capt. H. (_Daunted by the allusion, looks at coat_). I--I wear it for--for the time being. Till--till--to-morrow. (_Shrinks away, spade in hand, to door of his cottage_.)