Works of W. W. Jacobs

by Jacobs, W. W.

  BENN (running after him, and taking his arm). I never see such a man for taking offence in all my born days. I ‘ad my reasons for that remark, mate. Good reasons they was.

  TRAVERS (picking up his bundle). I daresay.

  BENN. ‘Ear me out.

  TRAVERS (re-seating himself R. of table, BENN L. of table). Oh, all right. Fire away!

  BENN (glancing towards door L. again, and leaning towards him). I spoke of ‘arf a sovereign just now, and when I tell you that I offer it to you to do a bit o’ burgling, you’ll see ‘ow necessary it is for me to be certain of your honesty.

  TRAVERS. Burgling? Honesty? ‘Struth; are you drunk or am I?

  BENN. Meaning, for you to pretend to be a burglar.

  TRAVERS (resignedly). We’re both drunk, that’s what it is.

  BENN. If you don’t agree, mum’s the word and no ‘arm done (offering his hand to TRAVERS who takes if).

  TRAVERS. Mum’s the word. My name’s Ned Travers, and barring cells for a spree now and again, there’s nothing against it. Mind that.

  BENN. Might ‘appen to anybody (offers tobacco box). Now fill your pipe, and don’t go chucking good tobacco away agin (scraping floor with foot).

  TRAVERS (picks up the plug which he had thrown away, and puts it in pipe, before refilling it from the box). Let’s hear what you want done.

  BENN. I ain’t got it all ship-shape and proper yet, but it’s in my mind’s eye. It’s been there off and on like for some time.

  TRAVERS. Kind of hatching.

  BENN. That’s it, ‘atching (shakes hands). Now listen. This ‘ere little public ‘ouse, the Beehive, is kept by a lady —

  TRAVERS. A widow; you told me.

  BENN. SO I did. Well, to cut it short, she’s the lady wot I’ve got my eye on.

  TRAVERS. I thought as much.

  BENN. She won’t ‘ave me (looks at him in mournful surprise). —

  TRAVERS. She’s got no taste.

  BENN (thoughtfully). S’pose that’s what it is. She’s a lone widder, and the Beehive is in a lonely place. Why, it’s ‘arf a mile to the nearest ‘ouse from ‘ere.

  TRAVERS. Silly place for a pub.

  BENN. I’ve been telling her ‘ow unsafe it is.

  TRAVERS. Wants a man on the premises to protect her — or a dog.

  BENN. A dogs no good.

  TRAVERS. You’re right, it’s a man she ought to have.

  BENN. So I’ve told her.

  TRAVERS. What does she say?

  BENN. Nothing. She laughs. She don’t believe it, d’ye see? Likewise I’m a small man — small, but stiff. She likes till men.

  TRAVERS (twisting his moustache). Most of ’em do. When I was in South Africa —

  BENN (interrupting him, rising). My idea is to kill two birds with one stone — prove to ‘er that she does want being protected, and that I’m the man to protect her. D’ye take my meaning, mate?

  TRAVERS. Rather (feels BENN’S biceps). Like a lump o’ wood.

  BENN (sitting down again). My opinion is, that she loves me without knowing it.

  TRAVERS. They often do. When I was in South —

  BENN (interrupting). Consequently I don’t want ‘er to be disappointed.

  TRAVERS. It does you credit.

  BENN. Mind you, I’ve got a good head, else I shouldn’t ‘ave got my rating as boatswain as soon as I did; and I’ve been turning it over in my mind, over and over again, till my brain-pan fair aches with it TRAVERS. P’raps that’s the beer.

  BENN. Beer? No, it’s the thinkin’, I’m used to beer.

  TRAVERS. Well, what’s the plan of campaign?

  BENN. If you do what I want you to to-night, and it comes off all right, damme, I’ll make it a quid.

  TRAVERS. GO on, Vanderbilt, I’m listening.

  BENN (rising crosses L). YOU clear out of this before she comes in and sees you.

  TRAVERS (rising). Why, d’you think she might take a fancy to me?

  BENN. Not likely.

  TRAVERS. I don’t see why not. When I was in South Africa —

  BENN. P’raps you don’t, but stick to the point. As I was saying you wait outside for me. Directly I come out, she’ll shut up, and go to bed. Then we wait a bit and —

  TRAVERS. Not me. I’ve a chance of a job tomorrow at Luton; that means a twelve mile tramp. I can’t hang about here.

  BENN (continuing). We wait a bit, and —

  TRAVERS. What’s the use? We can’t get a drink if she’s shut up.

  BENN (sharply). I wish you’d shut up; and listen. We wait a bit then I take you round the back there (pointing at window R. C.) and put you through that winder.

  TRAVERS (starting). Eh! Oh, do you though?

  BENN. You goes upstairs and alarms her, and she screams like — er — screams for help.

  TRAVERS. Screams for help? Look here ——

  BENN. I’m watching the house, faithful like, and hear ‘er scream. I dashes in at the winder, knocks you down, and rescues her. (Smiling and shaking his head tenderly.) She clings to me, in her gratitood, and proud of my strength and pluck she marries me.

  TRAVERS. An’ I get a five years’ honeymoon. Good-night, mate. Good-night. (Turning R.)

  BENN. (pulls TRAVERS back). Don’t be so ‘asty. I’ve arranged for all that.

  TRAVERS. That was thoughtful of you.

  BENN. In the excitement of the moment you spring up and escape. You can run much faster than I can; anyways you will. The nearest ‘ouse is ‘arf a mile off, and her servant’s staying till to-morrow at ‘er mother’s, ten miles away.

  TRAVERS (moving across to door R.). Well, so long mate, thanks for amusing me.

  BENN (blankly). You won’t do it?

  TRAVERS. NO, I’m hanged if I do. (Coming C to BENN). Accidents will happen, even in the best regulated burglaries; then where should I be?

  BENN. If they did, I’d own up and clear you.

  TRAVERS. YOU might, and then again you mightn’t. So long, mate.

  BENN (eagerly). I — I’ll make it two quid. I’ve took a fancy to you; you’re just the man for the job.

  TRAVERS (doubtfully). Thanks.

  BENN (taking him by the arm). Look ‘ere. I’ll give it you in writing. Come, you ain’t faint-hearted? Why a bluejacket ‘ud do it for the fun of the thing.

  TRAVERS. Then get one to do it. Good night. (Moving to door R.)

  BENN (pulling TRAVERS back). If I give it to you in writing, and there should be an accident, it’s worse for me than it is for you, ain’t it?

  TRAVERS. I wasn’t worrying about you.

  BENN. I give you the two quid afore you come into the house. I’d give ’em to you now if I’d got ’em with me. That’s my confidence in you; I likes the look of you. Soldier or sailor, when there’s a man’s work to be done, give ’em to me before anybody.

  TRAVERS. But where can you get the money from if you haven’t got it on you?

  BENN. Don’t you worry. I’ll manage that I’ve got a wonderful ‘ead. (Removing hat.)

  TRAVERS (looking at him). You have. (Seating himself.) Go on, write it out fair and square and sign it, and I’m your man.

  BENN (sitting down L. of table. Clapping him on the shoulder). Bravo, matey. (Taking a bundle of papers from his pocket). There’s letters there with my name and address on ’em. It’s all fair, square and above-board. When you’ve cast your eyes over them I’ll give you the writing. —

  TRAVERS (standing at R. of table taking letters). That’s what I call business-like. (Turns over the envelopes. BENN takes a pencil from his pocket and writes laboriously.)’Ullo! no stamp on this one. You had to pay twopence. Careless girl that. I should talk to her.

  BENN (glancing up). Wasn’t a girl.

  TRAVERS. Oh! Now, judging by the writing —

  BENN (looking up, in a very worried manner). No, no, it wasn’t a girl, but for ‘Eaven’s sake don’t interrupt, you’ve made me spell notice with only one T as it is.

  TRAVERS. Sorry, mate, I won�
��t say another word.

  BENN (after writing a few words).’Ow many U’s in burglar?

  TRAVERS. It’s either one or two, but I ain’t certain which.

  BENN. I’ve put two, so I’m on the safe side.

  TRAVERS (walking over to window R. C. and looking out). Yes, you’ll be on the safe side all through this job. That’ll be the outside. (Pointing to the window.) —

  BENN (looking up from his writing.) Eh, what? Were you speaking to me?

  TRAVERS. No, only thinking out loud.

  BENN. I’ve finished. (Hands paper to TRAVERS with a complacent air.) There. Read that. (Rising from chair and crosses L.)

  TRAVERS (R. C. Reads; and places the paper in his pocket). Seems all right. You ought to have been a lawyer.

  BENN. Not bad for a amateur, eh?

  TRAVERS. No, it’s —

  BENN (listening).’Ush!

  TRAVERS. Eh?

  BENN. I can ‘ear her moving. Clear out quick, and wait for me round the corner. She mustn’t see you.

  TRAVERS. Right you are. (Takes up bundle) I’m off. ( Goes out R. He closes door, then re-opens it and puts his head in.) You won’t forget to fetch that two quid.

  BENN (anxiously). No, no; get out!

  (TRAVERS closes door R. as MRS. WATERS enters L.)

  MRS. WATERS. I hope you’re not tired of waiting, Mr. Benn. Has anyone been in? I thought I heard voices.

  BENN takes mugs off table and puts them on counter L.). Yes, one chap; sort of tramp, looked a wrong ‘un.

  MRS. WATERS. We get plenty of tramps along here, poor fellers.

  BENN. And you’re unprotected.

  MRS. WATERS. I’m not nervous.

  BENN. Supposin’ that chap who was ‘ere just now took it into his head to break in to-night; what’s to prevent ‘im?

  MRS. WATERS. I do believe you’re trying to frighten me. Good-night, Mr. Benn, I must shut up now.

  BENN. I’ll help you. I’ll fasten the window. (Pretends to fasten the window, but, unseen by MRS. WATERS, opens it so that TRAVERS can get in. He pulls down the blind over the open window.) Er — er — could you oblige me with a loan of two pounds for a day or two, Mrs. Waters? I’ve ‘ad a rather sudden ——

  MRS. WATERS. Certainly! ( Takes a cash-box from behind the counter).

  BENN. I’ll give you an I. O. U. for it. (Crossing to counter L.).

  MRS. WATERS. Nonsense; I can trust you with anything, Mr. Benn.

  BENN (sighs). Except yourself. (Leaning over counter).

  MRS. WATERS (laughing). Now don’t start again. (Gives him the money). Here’s the money. I hope it’s for a good object.

  BENN. The best object in the world.

  MRS. WATERS. Well, good-night, it’s very late.

  BENN. Good-night, Mrs. Waters, and thank you. Don’t forget I’m always ready, if you do alter your mind. — (Exit R.)

  (MRS. WATERS locks both doors. Takes cash-box from behind the counter.)

  MRS. WATERS. I suppose some women would be afraid to be left in this lonely house. Thank goodness I don’t suffer from nerves. I wonder what Mr. Benn wanted that two pounds for? I hope he’s not going to buy an engagement ring on the chance of me changing my mind. (Laughs, takes lamp from table.) I shall be glad to get to bed, I can hardly keep my eyes open. (She goes out L. taking the lamp with her.)

  (The stage is in darkness for a few moments. Then the heads of BENN and TRAVERS are seen silhouetted against the white blind over window R. C. It is a bright moonlight night so that all their movements can be clearly seen. TRAVERS pulls the blind aside, and peers cautiously into the room. When the blind is pulled back, the stage is lighted by the moon shining in at the window.)

  TRAVERS. Seems quiet. (Climbing half way into the room. He turns to BENN who is pushing him from behind.) Not so hard, I don’t want to dive in. (He cautiously climbs into the room.)

  (BENN puts his head in at the window.)

  BENN (hoarsely). How do you feel?

  TRAVERS. I’m all right. I feel as if I’d been burgling all my life. How about you?

  BENN. Narvous.

  TRAVERS. What, a bo’sun nervous? Buck up, mate.

  BENN (handing him two sovereigns). Here’s the two quids.

  TRAVERS. Where did you get ’em? Why! — you don’t mean to say you borrowed ’em from her?

  BENN. NO. I don’t mean to say nothing of the sort. You’ve got ’em, that’s good enough for you.

  TRAVERS (making a movement to climb back out of the window). If I thought —

  BENN. Well, don’t. I’ll do all the thinking in this job.

  TRAVERS. All right, I’m in for it now, and I’ll see it through.

  BENN (patting him on the back through the window). Spoke like a Briton. All you’ve got to do is to frighten ‘er enough, but not too much, mind. When she screams I’ll come in.

  TRAVERS. And you punch me enough, but not too much, mind, or I might —

  BENN. All right — I’ll be gentle with you.

  TRAVERS. Won’t she think it funny you should be so handy?

  BENN. NO; it’s my faithful ‘eart keeping watch over her every night. ( Winks.)

  TRAVERS (removing his boots). Well, your faithful ‘eart can keep watch over my boots while I’m inside. (Hands boots to BENN). Put ’em outside, handy for me to pick up. We don’t want her to hear me till I’m upstairs.

  BENN. Aye, ate, mate.

  TRAVERS. Good-bye. Now for it; death or victory.

  (BENN moves away from the window.)

  (Replacing blind over window). Don’t want to be seen by anyone passing. Better reconnoiter a bit. Where’s the door I came in by? — locked. What’s this? — A cupboard. (Creeps round the room stopping every few paces to listen. He is obviously nervous.) I don’t ‘arf like the job, but two quid’s two quid, and — (Starts). Good Lor’! What’s that?

  (BENN puts head round blind.)

  Why don’t you keep quiet? You gave me quite a start. (At window.)

  BENN. Haven’t you done it yet? I thought you’d ‘ave been upstairs by this time.

  TRAVERS. Not me, not before reconnoitring a bit. When I was in South Africa —

  BENN (impatiently). We’ll ‘ave the yarn some other time, mate. Come, ‘urry up and get this over, it’s up-settin’ my narves.

  TRAVERS. There’s no hurry. Slow and sure’s my motto.

  BENN. You’re acting up to the fust part of it any ‘ow.

  TRAVERS. If you stop chattering there, and waggling my boots about, how can I get on with it?

  BENN. I’m off. I don’t want to interfere. I’ll wait at the bottom of the garden. You’re doing this job, not me.

  (Goes away from window.) —

  TRAVERS. I am, and I wish I wasn’t. Don’t want him hanging about (pulls down blind). But here goes. I do hope she won’t have a fit. (he goes towards the door, L.) I suppose I go through here to get to the stairs (in opening the flap in the counter, he upsets a mug, which falls to the floor). Deuce take it. I’ve done it now (he stands listening for a moment). I don’t hear nothing. Heavy sleeper, perhaps (he goes to the door L. and opens it). Benn’ll think I’m lost if I don’t — By Jove! she’s coming! And she’s got a gun (makes a half run to window, then crouches and runs to table. Then he gets into the cupboard R., as (MRS. WATERS Enters L. She carries a candle and a double-barrelled gun. She is in her night-dress. She looks round the room, then slowly walks towards the cupboard in a casual manner.) —

  MRS. WATERS. Must have been my fancy, I suppose, or a rat perhaps. (She edges towards the cupboard as she speaks and turns the key.) Got you! Keep still; if you try and break out, I shall shoot you (L. of table).

  TRAVERS (hastily). All right; Don’t shoot! I won’t move.

  MRS. WATERS. Better not. Mind, I’ve got a gun pointing straight at you.

  TRAVERS. Point it downwards, there’s a good girl, and take your finger off the trigger. If anything happened to me, you’d never forgive yourself.

  MRS. WATERS. It’
s all right so long as you don’t move, and I’m not a girl.

  TRAVERS. Yes, you are, I saw you. I thought it was an angel at first, I saw your bare ankles and —

  MRS. WATERS. HOW — how dare you!

  TRAVERS. You’ll catch cold.

  MRS. WATERS. Don’t trouble about me.

  TRAVERS. I won’t give you any trouble. I’ll go quiet. Why don’t you call for help?

  MRS. WATERS. I don’t want your advice. I know what to do. Now, don’t you try and break out. I’m going to fire one barrel out of the window, but I’ve got the other one for you if you move.

  TRAVERS. My dear girl, you’ll alarm the neighbourhood.

  MRS. WATERS. Just what I want to do (rattles the door C.). Keep still, mind! If you move —

  TRAVERS. Stop! Don’t do anything rash. Don’t do anything you’d be sorry for afterwards. I’m not a burglar; I’m doing this for a friend of yours — Mr. Benn.

  MRS. WATERS. Mr. Benn!

  TRAVERS. True as I stand here. Here, I’ll show you my instructions. I’ll put ’em through the door (pushes the paper through the door).

  (MRS. WATERS puts gun on table and goes round table - to door. She seizes the paper and reads aloud).

  MRS. WATERS. “This is to give notice that I, George Benn, being of sound mind and body, have told Ned Travers to pretend to be a burgular at Mrs. Waters. He ain’t a burgular, and I shall be outside all the time. It’s all above-board, and ship-shape. Signed, George Benn.”

  TRAVERS. Nicely worded, ain’t it?

  MRS. WATERS. Sound mind — above-board — shipshape. Where is he?

  TRAVERS. Out at the back. If you go to the window you can see him. Blow out the candle first, or he’ll see you.

  (She goes up to window, and back to table. She blows out candle.)

  (MRS. WATERS goes to window R. C., and lifts a corner of the blind.)

  MRS. WATERS. I see him; standing right on my carnations.

  TRAVERS. The coward! —

  MRS. WATERS. YOU both ought to be ashamed of yourselves. You ought to be punished.

  TRAVERS. There is a clothes peg sticking into my back.

  MRS. WATERS. I hope it’ll be a lesson to you.

  TRAVERS. It will. A hard one. What are you going to do?

  MRS. WATERS. Oh! (She hastily wraps herself in a macintosh that is hanging on a peg behind door C.)

  TRAVERS. Yes. You ought to have done that before. It’s enough to give you your death of cold.