LEEK (to MALCOLM). I think you’ll win your bet, sir, but I vote we give him a chance. Suppose we have cigars round, and if he’s not back by the time we’ve finished them I must be off, as I have a quarter of an hour’s walk before me. (Looks at watch.) He’s a friend of yours, isn’t he?
SOMERS. Yes, I have known him a good many years now, and I must say he’s a rum chap; just crazy about acting and practical joking, though I’ve often told him he carries the latter too far at times. In this case it doesn’t matter, but I won’t let him try it on the old gentleman. You see we know what he’s going to do, and are prepared, but he doesn’t, and it might lead to illness or worse; the old chap’s sixty-two and such a shock might have serious consequences. But Hirst won’t mind giving up that part of it, so long as he gets in opportunity of acting to us.
LEEK (knocks pipe on grate). — Well, I hope he’ll hurry up. It’s getting pretty late. (To SOMERS.)
MALCOLM. Well, gentlemen, your health!
SOMERS. Good luck.
LEEK. Hurrah!
BELDON. Chin-chin!
LEEK. By the way, how is it you happen to be here to-night?
SOMERS. Oh, we missed the connection at Tolleston Junction and as the accommodation at the Railway Arms there was rather meagre, the Station Master advised us to drive on here, put up for the night, and catch the Great Northern express from Exton in the morning. (Rises, crosses to L.) Oh, George, that reminds me — you might see that ‘ Boots’ calls us at 7 sharp.
(BELDON rises, goes up to them to fire.)
GEORGE. Certainly, sir. What are your numbers?
SOMERS. 13 and 14.
GEORGE. I’ll put it on the slate, special, sir. (Goes to door L.)
LEEK. I beg pardon, gentlemen, I forgot the cigars; George, bring some cigars back with you.
BELDON. A very mild one for me.
GEORGE. Very well, sir. (Takes up tray from side-hoard.)
(Exit L.)
(SOMERS sits R. C.)
MALCOLM. I think you were very wise coming on here. (Sits on settle R.) I stayed att he Railway Arms, Tolleston, once — never again though. Is your friend clever at acting?
SOMERS. I don’t think he’s clever enough to frighten you. I’m to spend Christmas at his place, and he’s asked me to assist at the theatricals he spoke of. Nothing would satisfy him till I consented, and I must honestly say I am very sorry I ever did, for I expect I shall be pretty bad. I know I have scarcely slept a wink these last few nights, trying to get the words into my head.
(GEORGE enters backwards, pale and trembling.)
MALCOLM. Why! Look — what the devil’s the matter with George? (Crosses to GEORGE.)
GEORGE. I’ve seen it, gentlemen. (Down stage L. C.)
OMNES. Seen who?
(BELDON down R. edge of table R. LEEK up R. C.
SOMERS up R.)
GEORGE. The ghost. Jer — Bun —
MALCOLM. Why, you’re frightened, George.
GEORGE. Yes, sir. It was the suddenness of it, and besides I didn’t look for seeing it in the bar. There was only a glimmer of light there, and it was sitting on the floor. I nearly touched it.
MALCOLM (goes to door, looks off, then returns — to others). It must be Hirst up to his tricks. George was out of the room when he suggested it. (To GEORGE.) Pull yourself together, man.
GEORGE. Yes, sir — but it took me unawares. I’d never have gone to the bar by myself if I’d known it was there, and I don’t believe you would, either, sir.
MALCOLM. Nonsense, I’ll go and fetch him in. (Crosses to L.)
GEORGE (clutching him by the sleeve). You don’t know what it’s like, sir. It ain’t fit to look at by yourself, it ain’t indeed. It’s got the awfullest deathlike face, and short cropped red hair — it’s —
(Smothered cry is heard.)
What’s that? — (Backs to C and leans on chair.)
(ALL start, and a quick pattering of footsteps is heard rapidly approaching the room. The door flies open and HIRST flings himself gasping and shivering into MALCOLM’S arms. The door remains open. He has only his trousers and shirt on, his face very white with fear and his own hair all standing on end. LEEK lights the gas, then goes to R. of HIRST.)
OMNES. What’s the matter?
MALCOLM. Why, it’s Hirst.
(Shakes him roughly by the shoulder.)
What’s up?
HIRST. I’ve seen — oh, Lord! I’ll never play the fool again. (Goes C.)
OTHERS. Seen what?
HIRST. Him — it — the ghost — anything.
MALCOLM (uneasily). Rot!
HIRST. I was coming down the stairs to get something I’d forgotten, when I felt a tap — (He breaks off suddenly gazing through open door.) I thought I saw it again — Look — at the foot of the stairs, can’t you see anything? (Shaking LEEK.)
LEEK (crosses to door peering down passage). No, there’s nothing there. (Stays up L.)
(HIRST gives a sigh of relief.)
MALCOLM (L. C.). GO on — you felt a tap —
HIRST (C.). I turned and saw it — a little wricked head with short red hair — and a white dead face — horrible.
(Clock chimes three-quarters.)
(They assist him into chair L. of table R.)
GEORGE (up C.). That’s what I saw in the bar— ‘orrid — it was devilish. (Coming C.)
(MALCOLM crosses to L. HIRST shudders.)
MALCOLM. Well, it’s a most unaccountable thing. It’s the last time I come to this house. (Goes to R. of LEEK.)
GEORGE. I leave to-morrow. I wouldn’t go down to that bar alone — no, not for fifty pounds. (Goes up R. to arm-chair.)
SOMERS (crosses to door R. then returns to R. C.). It’s talking about the thing that’s caused it, I expect We’ve had it in our minds, and we’ve been practically forming a spiritualistic circle without knowing it. (Goes to back of table R.)
BELDON (crosses to R. C.). Hang the old gentleman. Upon my soul I’m half afraid to go to bed.
MALCOLM. Doctor, it’s odd they should both think they saw something.
(They both drop down L. C.)
GEORGE (up C.). I saw it as plainly as I see you, sir. P’raps if you keep your eyes turned up the passage you’ll see it for yourself. (Points.)
(They all look. BELDON goes to SOMERS.)
BELDON. There — what was that?
MALCOLM. Who’ll go with me to the bar!
LEEK. I will. ( Goes to door.)
BELDON (gulps). So — will I. (Crosses to door L. They go to the door. To MALCOLM.) After you. (They slowly pass into the passage. GEORGE watching them. All exit except HIRST and SOMERS.)
SOMERS. HOW do you feel now, old man?
HIRST (changing his frightened manner to one of assurance). Splendid!
SOMERS. But — (a step back.)
HIRST. I tell you I feel splendid.
SOMERS. But the ghost — (Steps back to C.)
HIRST. Well, upon my word, Somers — you’re not as sharp as I thought you.
SOMERS. What do you mean?
HIRST. Why, that I was the ghost George saw. (Crosses to L. C.) By Jove, he was in a funk! I followed him to the door and overheard his description of what he’d seen, then I burst in myself and pretended I’d seen it too. I’m going to win that, bet — (VOICES heard. Crosses to R.) Look out, they’re coming back. (Sits.)
SOMERS. Yes, but —
HIRST. Don’t give me away — hush!
(Re-enter MALCOLM, LEEK, BELDON and GEORGE L.)
(BELDON and GEORGE go up to back C.)
HIRST. Did you see it? (In his frightened manner.)
MALCOLM (C.) I don’t know — I thought I saw something, but it might have been fancy. I’m in the mood to see anything just now. (To HIRST.) How are you feeling now, sir?”
HIRST. Oh, I feel a bit better now. I daresay you think I’m easily scared — but you didn’t see it.
MALCOLM. Well, I’m not quite sure. (Goes to fire.)
LEEK. You’ve
had a bit of a shock. Best thing you can do is to go to bed.
HIRST (finishing his drink). Very well. Will you, (rises) share my room with me, Somers?
(GEORGE lights two candles.)
SOMERS (crosses to L. C.). I will with pleasure. (Gets up to table C and gets a candle). Provided you don’t mind sleeping with the gas full on all night. (Goes to door L.)
LEEK (to HIRST). You’ll be all right in the morning.
HIRST. Good night, all. (As he crosses to door.)
OMNES. Good night.
(ALL talking at fire, not looking to L. as HIRST and SOMERS exeunt. HIRST chuckles and gives SOMERS a sly dig.) —
SOMERS. Good night.
MALCOLM (at fireplace). Well, I suppose the bet’s off, though as far as I can see I won it. I never saw a man so scared in all my life. Sort of poetic justice about it. (LEEK with revolver in his hand, is just putting it into his pocket. Seeing him.) Why, what’s that you’ve got there?
LEEK. A revolver. (At fire.) You see I do a lot of night driving, visiting patients in outlying districts — they’re a tough lot round here, and one never knows what might happen, so I have been accustomed to carry it. I just pulled it out so as to have it handy. I meant to have a pot at that ghost if I had seen him. There’s no law against it, is there? I never heard of a close time for ghosts.
BELDON. — Oh, I say, never mind ghosts. Will you share my room? (To MALCOLM.)
(GEORGE comes down a little, holding candle).
MALCOLM. With pleasure. I’m not exactly frightened, but I’d sooner have company, and I daresay George here would be glad to be allowed to make up a bed on the floor.
BELDON. Certainly.
MALCOLM. Well, that’s settled. A majority of three to one ought to stop any ghost. Will that arrangement suit you, George?
GEORGE. Thank you, sir. And if you gentlemen would kindly come down to the bar with me while I put out the gas. I could never be sufficiently grateful, and when (at door) we come back we can let the Doctor out at the front door. Will that do, sir?
LEEK. All right; I’ll be getting my coat on. (GEORGE gets to door. They exit at door L. LEEK picks up his coat off chair up L., puts it on and then turns up trousers. Footsteps heard in flies, then goes to the window R., pulls curtain aside and opens the shutters of the window nearest the fire. A flood of moonlight streams in from R. Clock strikes twelve.) By Jove, what a lovely night. That poor devil did get a fright, and no mistake. (Crossing down to fireplace for his cap which is on the mantelpiece. MALCOLM, BELDON and GEORGE return — the door closes after them.) Well, no sign of it, eh?
MALCOLM. NO, we’ve seen nothing this time. Here, give me the candle, George, while you turn out the gas.
LEEK. All right, George, I’ll put this one out. (Turns out gas below fire.)
(MALCOLM and BELDON are up at sideboard, GEORGE having put the other gas out, goes up to them and is just lighting the candles for them. The DOCTOR is filling his pipe at mantelshelf, and stooping to get a light with a paper spill. LEEK whistles and lights spill. The handle of the door is heard moving. OMNES stand motionless — MALCOLM and BELDON very frightened. They all watch. The room is lit only by the fire-light which is very much fainter than it was at the beginning of the play, by the candle which GEORGE holds, and by the flood of moonlight from the window.)
(The door slowly opens, a hand is seen, then a figure appears in dark breeches, white stockings, buckled shoes, white shirt, very neat in every detail, with a long white or spotted handkerchief tied round the neck, the long end hanging down in front. The face cadaverous, with sunken eyes and a leering smile, and close cropped red hair. The figure blinks at the candle, then slowly raises its hands and unties the handkerchief, its head falls on to one shoulder, it holds handkerchief out at arm’s length and advances towards MALCOLM.)
Table GEORGE
LEEK — BELDON — MALCOLM
Chair —
Fire — HIRST
(Just as the figure reaches the place where the moonbeams touch the floor, LEEK fires — he has very quietly and unobtrusively drawn his revolver. GEORGE drops the candle and the figure, writhing, drops to the floor. It coughs once a choking cough. MALCOLM goes slowly forward, touches it with his foot, and kneels by figure, lifts figure up, gazes at it, and pulls the red wig off, discovering HIRST. MALCOLM gasps out “DOCTOR.” LEEK places the revolver on chair, kneels behind HIRST. MALCOLM is L. C., kneeling. At this moment SOMERS enters very brightly with lighted candle).
SOMERS. Well, did Hirst win his bet? (Seeing HIRST on floor, he realizes the matter). My God, you didn’t — I told him not to. I told him not to!! I told him — falls fainting into arms of GEORGE.
Curtain.
PICTURE.
BELDON — GEORGE
LEEK — HIRST — MALCOLM SOMERS
(kneeling) — (seated — (kneeling) — (at door L.) on floor)
NOTE. When played at The Haymarket the piece finished with a different ending as given below. MR. CYRIL MAUDE fearing the above tragic termination would be too serious.
Front SOMERS’ entrance.
SOMERS enters with lighted candle, and exclaims very brightly.
SOMERS. Well, did Hirst win his bet?
Slight pause.
HIRST (suddenly sitting up). Yes. (Turning to DR. LEEK.) You’re a damned bad shot, Doctor. (Then to MALCOLM.) And I’ll trouble you for that sovereign.
The remaining characters express astonishment CURTAIN.
THE GREY PARROT
THE GREY PARROT.
(As Curtain rises the sound of voices in argument heard off L. GANNETT and ROGERS pass window angrily arguing with P. C. 24, who follows them, HOBSON following after. Door R. C is opened and GANNETT and ROGERS enter, the former carrying a parrot in a large cage which is tied up in two red handkerchiefs and a brown paper parcel. P. C. 24 remains at the door. HOBSON remaining behind him, but in view of the audience.)
P. C. 24. That’s enough. That’s enough.
JIM. Well, I couldn’t help it, could I? I dropped the bird off the top of the ‘bus, and it naturally gave vent to its feelings.
P. C. 24. I’ve told you if I hear any more such language, I shall hold you responsible.
JIM. YOU can do what you please, but you can’t lock me up, because my parrot swears. Can he, Sam? (Puts parrot on table in window L. C and parcel on table down stage L. C., sits on R. of table.)
SAM. In course not, never heard of such a thing. (Silting on head of sofa down R.)
P. C. 24. I don’t believe it was the parrot at all. It’s my idea it was you up to some ventriloquism nonsense, chucking your own bad language into a poor innocent bird.
HOBSON. Well, in my opinion the Captain’s quite right — there!
P. C. 24 (to HOBSON). You mind your own business. Who’s speaking to you?
HOBSON. I merely said in my opinion the Captain’s quite right, and I stick to it. A man’s at liberty to his opinion. The language you’re so down on wasn’t his at all, it was that wonderful bird’s.
P. C. 24. Well, that’s enough. All I can say is, I’ve warned you, and I shall send in a report to Headquarters.
(Goes off L.)
HOBSON (calling after hint). Headquarters! Rot! You go to the Parrot house at the Crystal Palace, and tell ’em that a parrot has arrived in England that can say something stronger than a common or garden Damn. (Coming down to GANNETT and ROGERS.) You’ll excuse me, Captain, a interfering.
JIM. O’ course. —
HOBSON (to ROGERS). An’ you, mate?
SAM. Why, certainly, I ain’t got the gift o’ the gab myself, and it’s a treat to hear any one talk to a bobby like you did.
HOBSON. Oh, that’s nothing. But talking about talking, that parrot of yours is a beauty at it.
JIM. Yes, it can express itself pretty forcibly.
HOBSON. Express itself forcibly! Why, in my opinion, it’s a word painter. You may believe me or not, but I can assure you in a thirty-two-years’ experience in the ‘public’ lin
e from pot-boy to boss, I never heard any one with a better command of language than that bird. I admire originality, and I admire that bird. Look ‘ere, to prove I mean what I say, I’ll give you a five pun’ note for it.
JIM. Thanks, mate, but it’s not for sale.
HOBSON. Well, look here, there’s my card. ( Taking card out of waistcoat pocket.) I’m only two streets away. My place is “The Dockers’ Arms” so if you think better of it, send round and we’ll deal. (Hands card to JIM, who takes it.)
JIM. Thanks all the same, but I don’t mean to sell it.
HOBSON. All right, p’raps you’ll change your mind. It’s a mortal pity to keep a bird with such accomplishments in a small circle. In my opinion what it ought to have is publicity, and I can give it that. Good-day. Don’t forget, a fiver!
JIM and SAM. Good-day.
(HOBSON exits D. R. C. to L.)
JIM. I wonder where the Missus can be. (Goes to D. L. and calls.) Mary! Mary!
SAM. Don’t you worry about her, why she’s probably out shopping, getting something tasty for your return. Five o’clock is when you were expected, and it’s only three yet.
JIM. SO it is, Sam, I brought that bird home as a present for my wife. The man I bought it of said it was a highly respectable bird, and wouldn’t know a bad word when it heard it.
SAM. Well, I expect the character he gave the bird was as he found it. You’d probably say a word or two if you were dropped off a ‘bus.
JIM. NO doubt, but I couldn’t help it, could I? That fool of a driver started his engines before I’d got down the companion-ladder.
SAM (Looking at cage). Well, it’s quiet enough now.
JIM. Oh yes, it’ll keep quiet as long as it’s covered up.
SAM. And not dropped off ‘busses.
JIM. Oh, you shut up, you’ve too much humour you have. You know, Sam, I hardly like to give that bird to my wife after the swearing it indulged in.
SAM. Oh, it’s no good being too particular, that’s the worst of all you young married fellows. Seem to think your wife has got to be wrapped up in cotton wool.
JIM. Nothing of the sort. Only when you buy your wife a parrot to remind her of you when you’re away, and that parrot will insist on using the most awful language, it doesn’t seem the right sort of present.
Works of W. W. Jacobs Page 291