Works of W. W. Jacobs

by Jacobs, W. W.

  DIBBS. (raking) That ain’t no work for a lady — like (takes up rake) — lady like you, Mrs. Baldwin. What you want is a man you can trust. A man with a head for business —— —— —

  MRS. BALDWIN. (sits on L. of barrow o.) Ah, yes!

  Captain Barley was saying the same thing only —

  DIBBS. (throws rake down) Captain Barley! Him a head for business! Why he’s a babe! Why, you might so well ‘and it over to — to Miss Ethel —

  MRS. BALDWIN. There! Miss Ethel! There’s another worry! And me so fond of her, I’d do almost anything —— ——

  DIBBS. (picks up rake, rather sulky at the change of conversation) What’s wrong with ‘er?

  MRS. BALDWIN. First she’s locked up; and then she climbs out o’ window, and she passed me just now with her face flushed and her ‘air h’all no’ow.

  DIBBS. (puts rake against seat R. with a look at path R.) Ah! (clinks coins SETON gave him)

  MRS. BALDWIN. (continuing) It’s all along o’ Mr. Manners.

  DIBBS. (R. C.) Crying off, ain’t she? (with meaning) Ah! Love’s a strange thing, Mrs. Baldwin.

  It comes and it goes, as the sayin’ is (sits on handle of harrow) And it’s only when a man gets pretty near into middle age you may say it’ll stay like.

  MRS. BALDWIN. (with hands clasped in her lap and a far-away hole in her eyes) Ah! How strange! How very strange you should say that!

  DIBBS. Oh? I get them deep thoughts, sometimes.

  MRS. BALDWIN. And they’re almost the identical words Captain Barley was speaking the last time he was here.

  DIBBS. (rises, furious) He heard me say ’em fust then. And I wonder ‘ow many he’s gone and repeated ’em to? The landlady of the Old Ship at Coastham, for one —

  MRS. BALDWIN. Mrs. Porter! That yellow-haired thing!

  DIBBS. Ah! and many and many of all colours and sizes, by sea and by land. Captain Barley’s a very dangerous man, Mrs. Baldwin.

  MRS. BALDWIN. (fluttered) Oh! It was you introduced him to me, Mr. Dibbs.

  DIBBS. That was afore I’d found him out. He seemed all right and quiet the first time I met him. (pause) Turned out afterwards he’d got a headache that night.

  MRS. BALDWIN. I’m sure he’s always very polite to me.

  DIBBS. (darkly) Him! So he is to every woman he meets — young gells especial. Now young gells I can’t abear —

  (Sits on handles — sidling up to MRS. BALDWIN.)

  Old gells is what I — I MRS. BALDWIN. (bridling, rising and going to L. C.) I did not come here to be insulted, Mr. Dibbs. Good h’afternoon. (sweeps out L. L E.)

  DIBBS. (nonplussed, crosses to L.) Look o’ that now! (he sits on L. of harrow, gets his pipe out, and fills it) Insulted! When I was payin’ ‘er a compliment! Well! — Well! —

  (Inquiring whistle heard off R. DIBBS starts and turns to look in that direction.)

  What’s that?

  (Whistle is repeated insistently.)

  Jem Barley!

  (Whistle.)

  (resignedly) Jem Barley again! I know what you’re after, my lad. (looking in the direction of MRS. BALDWIN’S exit) So that’s what she came into the garden for! Well, it’s a good job I insulted her— ‘cos now she ain’t here.

  (Whistle heard again, nearer. DIBBS grunts “shut up” in response. CAPTAIN JEM BARLEY appears R. l E. Serge suit, knotted necktie, cloth cap with peak, grey bushy beard, and grey curly hair.) CAPTAIN. What cheer, shipmate?

  (He suddenly seizes the handles of the barrow and rushes DIBBS round the bed c. Goes up L. C., round back, down R. C., and finishes near chair L., singing as he goes, “Here we go round the mulberry bush.” etc., DIBBS expostulating angrily. CAPTAIN goes above barrow to L.)

  Ain’t so light as you was sixty or seventy years ago, John, (sits L., mopping his face)

  DIBBS. (glumly) I’m fifty-seven next birthday. CAPTAIN. YOU must have been a fine child.

  DIBBS. So I was. (suspicious) Why?

  CAPTAIN. Must ha’ looked ten when you was born. Well, how’s things?

  DIBBS. (lights pipe, shaking his head) Very so so. You’d better clear off in case the guv’nor sees you, He’s in a rare way this afternoon.

  CAPTAIN. Why, you naughty boy, what ha’ you been doin’?

  DIBBS. (indignant) Me! Nothing.

  CAPTAIN. Don’t mind if I do.

  (CAPTAIN takes DIBBS’S tobacco pouch from his knees and calmly takes out pipe and fills it. DIBBS eyes him anxiously)

  DIBBS. (ironically) Help yerself. Have some tobacco.

  CAPTAIN. (cheerily) Thank ye, mate, I will. DIBBS. YOU have got a pipe?

  CAPTAIN. Yes, found it in a railway carriage.

  (Returns pouch, fumbles in breast pocket and brings out three oily black cigars, wrapped in a piece of newspaper, and hands them to DIBBS.)

  Here. (rises, looks round mysteriously) They’ve never paid a farthing duty — not a farthing. (lights pipe) DIBBS. (unpleasantly, after smelling them) Well, why should they?

  CAPTAIN. YOU can’t buy cigars like them. They ain’t to be had. (smirks) A young woman gave ’em to me. “Take them, Captain Barley,” she ses, “and when you smoke ’em, think o’ me.” (crosses to R. C.) Ah, yes, poor little girl. (shakes his head sentimentally) DIBBS. YOU ought to be ashamed o’ yourself. CAPTAIN. (delighted) I can’t help it; it’s my nature. Always was like it from a boy. Sailormen mostly are. Affelbility, that’s what it is with me. No harm, too much affelbility. Why, one night at Wapping, four young women came down to my ship to see me all at the same time. My mistake — and I had to lock myself in the cabin, while the mate tried to coax ’em to go away.

  DIBBS. (grumpily) And they went?

  CAPTAIN. They went for the mate. (crosses to L.) He just managed to get ashore in time, poor chap! They stayed there for hours and the things — the beautiful loving things they called to me through the companion was a disgrace to their sex.

  DIBBS. (rises) Well, why don’t you go back to ’em?

  CAPTAIN. (surprised) Eh?

  DIBBS. GO back to the gell who gave you (holding out cigars) this stuff?

  CAPTAIN. (surprised) Eh?

  DIBBS. Or to the landlady at the Old Ship?

  CAPTAIN. (surprised) Eh?

  DIBBS. Why can’t you leave us alone?

  CAPTAIN. (amazed) What do you mean?

  DIBBS. (furiously) You know very well what I mean! You pretend to come here to see me, and all the time it’s Mrs. Baldwin’s cottages as you’re after!

  CAPTAIN. What about you, then?

  DIBBS. Me! I love her for herself alone!

  CAPTAIN. Her sylph-like self. That’s won it.

  (CAPTAIN executes a little jig of delight.)

  DIBBS. (continuing) Afore I met you everything was going on as smooth as smooth! Take your cigars, and give ’em to them as wants ’em.

  (With a superb gesture he hurls the cigars on the ground.)

  CAPTAIN. (picking them up) Steady, my lad, you might crack their skins.

  DIBBS. You’ve been an’ crep’ into her ‘art like a — like a maggit into a rosebud.

  CAPTAIN. You’re not yourself, my lad; something’s been upsetting you.

  DIBBS. DO you mean to tell me you ain’t been a-carrying on with Mrs. Baldwin?

  CAPTAIN. Not what you’d call carryin’ on.

  DIBBS. (with withering sarcasm) Ho! And what about ‘er wantin’ a man o’ business, eh?

  CAPTAIN. Well, that don’t seem very affectionate.

  DIBBS. NO? And what about love only bein’ steady in middle age, eh?

  CAPTAIN. Well, I heard you say that, and it seemed all right. Seemed wasted on you. Why, I’ve said it to hundreds of girls since you said it. (patronizingly) You’re all right, my lad. (crosses to R. C.) I’m in no hurry to settle down! I want to have my fling first, (sits R. on the stump)

  (DIBBS gets his rake, looks at him. Then he takes up harrow deliberately, looks at him again.)

  DIBBS. Well, I don’t want your company, Captain.<
br />
  (CAPTAIN smiles.)

  Don’t you come ‘ere pretending —

  (Going up L. C. to L.)

  — to see me agin, a-cause I won’t see you, Captain. (CAPTAIN smiles.)

  (up L.) When you’re tired o’ sitting there, you can go. Bargee!

  (Exit L. 2 E.)

  (CAPTAIN jumps up, stands staring after him in helpless amazement, as though hardly able to believe his ears. Goes up R. c.)

  CAPTAIN. Bar — (incredulously) Bargee!

  (Shakes his fist after DIBBS, moves towards up c., stops, turns, shakes his head and murmurs.)

  Bargee — bar — (looking to down L.) Hullo, who’s coining here, nice little thing, (gets behind bush up c.)

  (Enter ETHEL L. 1 E. goes to L. C.)

  ETHEL. He’s gone. I wonder which way he went? (sees BARLEY’S leg) No, he’s not gone. I — I — wonder.

  (CAPTAIN looks through telescope, waggles it, then comes down R. C., raises his hat, says, “How h’ are yer?”)

  Oh! Where did you come from? Did you come up the cliff too?

  CAPTAIN. Lor’ no, miss. I came (pointing R.) through there. Come to see my old friend, Mr. Dibbs. (thinks better of it) Leastways, when I say friend, I brought him a parcel o’ cigars from Cuba. But he won’t get no more out o’ me.

  ETHEL. (crosses to R.) Oh, really, (carelessly) You didn’t meet a — a — young man as you came, I suppose?

  CAPTAIN. (comes down R. C., pondering) No, I can’t say as I did. (pause; his admiration for ETHEL increases visibly) Nice weather we’re having. I only hope as this here breeze’ll hold.

  ETHEL. (with new interest in him) Are you a sailor?

  CAPTAIN. Yes, miss.

  ETHEL. (eagerly) A — a lieutenant?

  CAPTAIN. Lieutenant, (indignant) Me! (indulgently) There — there. No, miss, I’m a captain.

  ETHEL. Oh, I beg your pardon.

  CAPTAIN. NO offence, miss. You don’t know much about sailors, I suppose.

  ETHEL. NO.

  CAPTAIN. No? (smiles)

  ETHEL. NO, but I’m — interested in them.

  (BARLEY smiles.)

  CAPTAIN. H’are yer?

  ETHEL. Are you in the Navy?

  CAPTAIN. (with magnificent contempt) Navy! (goes to c.) Lord love ye, no! Wouldn’t be seen in it! Tea kettles! Not me. (goes to ETHEL) NO, I’m Captain of the Heart in Hand — as pretty a craft as you ever set eyes on. She’s lyin’ at Coastham now, after one o’ the worst passages from London —

  ETHEL. (with a start) From London?

  CAPTAIN. Ah! (impressively) All the way from London.

  ETHEL. Tell me, are you going back to London?

  CAPTAIN. Ay — to-morrow or next day. Very pretty river it is here. But, lor’, what’s a river compared with the sea! Oho!

  ETHEL. (sits on tree stump R.) I suppose that can be terrible?

  CAPTAIN. Terrible? Terrible ain’t no word for it. Why, on’ly last winter it took me ten days to beat up here from the Nore. All the other craft stayed in the London river. We came on. I didn’t take my clothes off all that time, (he sees her watching him with open-eyed interest) I saw a schooner go down with all hands, not half a mile on our weather beam.

  ETHEL. Oh, how awful!

  CAPTAIN. Fortune of the sea. (sits on seat R.) We don’t grumble. I’ve been wrecked myself (watches her to see how much she’ll swallow) — five times.

  ETHEL. HOW brave you must be.

  CAPTAIN. (with an air of simple grandeur) No, miss, not brave. No, just dooty, just dooty.

  ETHEL. And did the crews go down?

  CAPTAIN. Would have, every mam jack if I hadn’t — But there! I mustn’t talk about that.

  ETHEL. Oh! You saved their lives. Oh, how many — tell me! tell me how many!

  CAPTAIN. (reluctantly) Well, I don’t keep count — and it’s nothing to brag about. Why, first and last, I s’pose I’ve only saved seventeen single-handed. (rubs knees with his hands)

  ETHEL. Oh, fancy saying only seventeen! You’re a hero. (laying her hand on his)

  CAPTAIN. (looks down at her hand, smiles, then looks towards where MRS. BALDWIN disappeared, and contemptuously — aside) Mrs. Baldwin! (snaps fingers)

  ETHEL. Why did you do that?

  CAPTAIN. That? (snaps fingers — confused) Me — ? Oh, that’s what I think o’ savin’ lives. ’Tisn’t heroish — it’s just dooty. I ‘ad my own life saved once.

  ETHEL. (sits on seat) Oh, do tell me. (smiles at him ravishingly)

  CAPTAIN, (gulping) Well, I was on a barge (she looks at him) — barque — at the time in the — in the China seas. I dived off from near the top o’ the mainmast after the skipper’s child that had fallen overboard, to save it from a — a shark.

  ETHEL. Oh!

  CAPTAIN. Yes, and foolish-like I dropped my knife as I dived — and after I got the child I had to shout at the shark, “Go away, go away,” and keep divin’ for the knife — kept me busy, I can tell you — and after all my trouble they had to get the boat out and save me. I was never so ashamed of myself in my life.

  ETHEL. Oh, but they didn’t jump overboard. How grateful the father must have been to you.

  CAPTAIN. We don’t think much o’ that at sea. No. He swore at me for having to get the boat out. (rubs his knees)

  ETHEL. And now you’re a captain — and can swear at other people.

  CAPTAIN. Often — sometimes — I mean if I want to. Yes, Master o’ the Heart in Hand. You ought to come down and have a look at her. She’s lying down at Coastham.

  ETHEL. I should like to, but —

  CAPTAIN. (jerking his thumb at the house) Won’t they let you out long enough?

  (ETHEL stares.)

  (he goes on tentatively) Ah, govenossing ain’t no good —

  ETHEL. (amazed) Governessing — ? Oh, but —

  CAPTAIN. What?

  ETHEL. (laughing) Never mind. Nothing. CAPTAIN. Well, you could see my ship at Hedge End, just below here (points off down L.) I’ve got to bring her up to-morrow. It’ll be lovely; there we go, bowling along between the meadows, looking at the flowers, and wishing we could stop to pick ’em —

  ETHEL. (with desperate determination) Captain, do you take passengers?

  CAPTAIN. Well — we ain’t fitted up for passengers, you know; but I could always accommodate a friend. We brought a young woman — same as it might be you — down — here — only three weeks ago.

  ETHEL. (eagerly) A young woman? Tell me — had she a chaperon?

  CAPTAIN. (wrinkling his brows) Chap of her own? Oh yes, very nice young chap he is too.

  (ETHEL rises, crosses to L. C., laughing.)

  What are you laughing at?

  ETHEL. Nothing, nothing, Captain; would you take me if I wanted to go?

  CAPTAIN. (rises) Would I take you? Why, with the greatest pleasure in life. (goes to her) ETHEL. And you wouldn’t say a word about it to a living soul — on your honour?

  CAPTAIN. AS a gentleman.

  ETHEL. Thank you so much. You’ve got such a nice face. (BARLEY smiles) Such a dear (BARLEY smiles), kind, fatherly, face. (CAPTAIN winces) Where could I find you supposing I wanted a trip at any time?

  CAPTAIN. YOU ask for me at the Old Ship at Coastham. Captain James Barley my name is —

  ETHEL. (hacking to L.) The Old Ship — Captain James Barley —

  CAPTAIN. (spelling) B-Hay-Har-Hal-He-y.

  ETHEL. Captain James Barley — I shall remember.

  (Exit L. 1 E.)

  CAPTAIN. (looks after her and gives a profound whistle, breaks into a scrap of hornpipe which merges into a delighted pas seul) Jemmy, my boy, you’re agoing it. Wish I was five years younger. Mrs. Baldwin! Ho, yes indeed! I’ll soon knock that on the head if I get half a chance.

  (Enter MRS. BALDWIN L. 2 E., comes to c.)

  CAPTAIN. (sings)

  “I’ll knock my little Baldwin on the head Fol de rol.”

  (is going R.)

  MRS. BALDWIN. (with great dignity) Captain James Ba
rley —

  CAPTAIN. Eh? (cheerily, goes to her) Hulloa — Jane! How are you, Jane?

  MRS. BALDWIN. I’ll thank you not to make so free with my Christian name, if you please.

  CAPTAIN. Eh? Look o’ that, now! Why, only a week ago ——

  MRS. BALDWIN. I’ve found you out.

  CAPTAIN. Me? What ‘ave I been doin’?

  MRS. BALDWIN. (goes to him) You’ve been deceiving me; you’ve been a-carryin’ on —

  CAPTAIN. (honestly frightened, thinking of ETHEL) Me? Who with?

  MRS. BALDWIN. Many and many; by sea and by land, (goes to L. C.)

  CAPTAIN. (relieved) Oh, is that all? — Don’t you believe it, Jane.

  MRS. BALDWIN. Only a week ago you called me your lily of the valley.

  CAPTAIN. “’Twas but a little faded flower — —”

  MRS. BALDWIN. And all the time you was flirting with the landlady of the Old Ship.

  CAPTAIN. (seeing his chance) I know who told you that — !

  MRS. BALDWIN. Never mind who told me.

  CAPTAIN. Dibbs told you! John Dibbs. He’s been making up to you and blackening my character.

  MRS. BALDWIN. NO! no!

  CAPTAIN. Yes, he has! And now you want to pick a quarrel with me because you’ve taken up with him. Mrs. Baldwin, I shouldn’t have thought it of you.

  MRS. BALDWIN. Oh, Jem! only say it isn’t true.

  (Enter DIBBS up L. He stands listening.)

  CAPTAIN. NO, ma’am If I did, you wouldn’t believe me.

  MRS. BALDWIN. Jem!

  CAPTAIN. Don’t you make so free with my Christian name, h’if you please! You come and accuse an innocent man, and you won’t listen to a word he has to say for himself. All right. I can bear it. If you think you can be ‘appier with Dibbs, take Dibbs. There he is — there’s an oil-painting for yer. Take him, and I wish you joy of him!

  (He starts off R. DIBBS rushes after him and pulls him hack — MRS. BALDWIN sits L. weeping.)

  DIBBS. Come back! Ain’t you ashamed of yourself. Look at what you’ve been and gone and done. —

  CAPTAIN. (pointing to himself) Look what she’s done. She calls me a flirt — and all the time she’s been — There, there! I forgive her. There you are John Dibbs. I’ve give her back to you. Take her (waves his arms as if sweeping her off his hands) Take care of her, and don’t judge a man too harsh next time. So long. (sings)