[MARIANO and MICHELE, having cleared the table, exeunt.]
HORACE
[hoarse with shame, to PIKE; slight pause after PIKE’S last speech.]
I shall ask her if she will consent to an interview.
PIKE
[at same time, astounded]
“Consent to an interview”? Why, I want to talk to her!
HAWCASTLE
[quickly and earnestly to ETHEL]
This shall make no difference to us, my child. Speak to him at once.
[Exit into the hotel.]
PIKE
[to HORACE]
Don’t you understand? I’m her guardian.
HORACE
[with a desperate gesture]
I shall never hold up my head again!
[Rushes off.]
VASILI
[gravely, to PIKE]
When you have finished your affairs, my friend, remember my poor car yonder.
PIKE
[with a melancholy smile]
All right, Doc, I’m kind of confused just now, but I reckon I can still put a plug back in a gear-box.
VASILI
[at same time]
Then au revoir, my friend.
[Strolls off through the grove.]
PIKE
[watching him go, thoughtfully]
Yes, sir!
ETHEL
[haughtily, yet with the air of confessing a humiliating truth, her eyes cast down]
I am Miss Granger-Simpson.
[As she speaks he turns and lifts his hand toward her as if suddenly startled. He has not seen her until now. He stands for a moment in silence, looking at her with great tenderness and pride.]
PIKE
[with both wonder and pathos in his voice]
Why, I knew your pa from the time I was a little boy till he died, and I looked up to him more’n I ever looked up to anybody in my life, but I never thought he’d have a girl like you!
[She turns from him; he takes a short step nearer her.]
He’d ‘a’ been mighty proud if he could see you now.
ETHEL
[quickly, and with controlled agitation]
Perhaps it will be as well if we avoid personal allusions.
PIKE
[mildly]
I don’t see how that’s possible.
ETHEL
[sitting]
Will you please sit down?
PIKE
Yes, ma’am!
[ETHEL shivers at the “ma’am.”]
[He sits in the chair which HORACE has occupied, still holding his hat in his hand.]
ETHEL
[tremulously, her eyes cast down]
As you know, I — I —
[She stops, as if afraid of breaking down; then, turning toward him, cries sharply.]
Oh, are you really my guardian?
PIKE
[smiling]
Well, I’ve got the papers in my grip. I expect —
ETHEL
Oh, I KNOW it! It is only that we didn’t fancy, we didn’t expect —
PIKE
I expect you thought I’d be considerable older.
ETHEL
Not only that —
PIKE
[interrupting gently]
I expect you thought I’d neglected you a good deal,
[remorsefully]
and it did LOOK like it — never comin’ to see you; but I couldn’t hardly manage the time to get away. You see, bein’ trustee of your share of the estate, I don’t hardly have a fair show at my law practice. But when I got your letter, eleven days ago, I says to myself: “Here, Daniel Voorhees Pike, you old shellback, you’ve just got to take time. John Simpson trusted you with his property, and he’s done more
[his voice rises, but his tone is affectionate and shows deep feeling]
— he’s trusted you to look out for her, and now she’s come to a kind of jumpin’-off place in her life — she’s thinking of gettin’ married; and you just pack your grip-sack and hike out over there and stand by her!”
ETHEL
[frigidly]
I quite fail to understand your point of view. Perhaps I had best make it at once clear to you that I am no longer thinking of marrying.
PIKE
[leaning back in his chair and smiling on her]
Well, Lord-a-Mercy!
ETHEL
I mean I have decided upon it. The ceremony is to take place within a fortnight.
PIKE
Well, I declare!
ETHEL
We shall dispense with all delays.
PIKE
[slowly and a little sadly]
Well, I don’t know as I could rightly say anything against that. He must be a mighty nice fellow, and you must think a heap of him!
[With a suppressed sigh.]
That’s the way it should be.
[He smiles again and leans toward her in a friendly way.]
And you’re happy, are you?
ETHEL
[with cold emphasis, sitting very straight in her chair]
Distinctly!
[PIKE’S expression becomes puzzled, he passes his hand over his chin, looks at her keenly. Then his eyes turn to the spot where HORACE stood during their interview, and he starts, as though shocked at a sudden thought.]
PIKE
It ain’t that fellow I was talkin’ to yonder?
ETHEL
[indignantly]
That was my brother!
PIKE
[relieved, but somewhat embarrassed]
Lord-a-Mercy!
[Recovering himself immediately and smiling.]
But, naturally, I wouldn’t remember him. He couldn’t have been more than twelve years old last time you were home. Of course, I’d ‘a’ known you —
ETHEL
How? You couldn’t have seen me since I was a child.
PIKE
From your picture. Though now I see — it ain’t so much like you.
ETHEL
You have a photograph of me?
PIKE
[very gently]
The last time I saw your father alive he gave me one.
ETHEL
[frowning]
Gave it to you?
PIKE
Gave it to me to look at.
ETHEL
And you remembered —
PIKE
[apologetically]
Yes, ma’am!
ETHEL
[incredulously]
Remembered well enough to know me?
PIKE
Yes, ma’am!
ETHEL
It does not strike me as possible. We may dismiss the subject.
PIKE
Well, if you’d like to introduce me to your
[laughing feebly and tentatively, hesitates]
— to your —
ETHEL
To my brother?
PIKE
No, ma’am; I mean to your — to the young man.
ETHEL
To Mr. St. Aubyn? I think it quite unnecessary.
PIKE
I’m afraid I can’t see it just that way
[with an apologetic laugh]
I’ll have to have a couple of talks with him — sort of look him over, so to speak. I won’t stay around here spoilin’ your fun any longer than I can help. Only just for that, and to get a letter I’m expectin’ here from England. Don’t you be afraid.
ETHEL
I do not see that you need have come at all.
[Her lip begins to tremble.]
We could have been spared this mortification.
PIKE
[sadly]
You mean I mortify you? Why, I — I can’t see how.
ETHEL
In a hundred ways — every way. That common person who is with you —
PIKE
[gently]
He ain’t common. You only think so because he’s with me.
ETHEL
> [sharply]
Who is he?
PIKE
He told me his name, but I can’t remember it. I call him “Doc.”
ETHEL
It doesn’t matter! What does matter is that you needn’t have come. You could have written your consent.
PIKE
[mildly]
Not without seeing the young man.
ETHEL
And you could have arranged the settlement in the same way.
PIKE
[smiling]
Settlement? You seem to have settled it pretty well without me.
ETHEL
You do not understand. An alliance of this sort always entails a certain settlement.
PIKE
Yes, ma’am — when folks get married they generally settle down considerable.
ETHEL
[impatiently]
Please listen. If you were at all a man of the world, I should not have to explain that in marrying into a noble house I bring my dot, my dowry —
PIKE
[puzzled]
Money, you mean?
ETHEL
If you choose to put it that way.
PIKE
You mean you want to put aside something of your own to buy a lot and fix up a place to start housekeeping —
ETHEL
No, no! I mean a settlement upon Mr. St. Aubyn directly.
PIKE
You mean you want to give it to him?
ETHEL
If that’s the only way to make you understand — yes!
PIKE
[amused]
How much do you want to give him?
ETHEL
[coldly]
A hundred and fifty thousand pounds.
PIKE
[incredulously]
Seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars!
ETHEL
Precisely that!
PIKE
[amazed]
Well, he has made you care for him! I guess he must be the Prince of the World, honey! He must be a great man. I expect you’re right about me not meetin’ him! I prob’ly wouldn’t stack up very high alongside of a man that’s big enough for you to think as much of as you do of him.
[Smiling.]
Why, I’d have to squeeze every bit of property your pa left you.
ETHEL
Is it your property?
PIKE
[gently]
I’ve worked pretty hard to take care of it for you.
ETHEL
[rising impulsively and coming to him]
Forgive me for saying that.
PIKE
[smiling]
Pshaw!
ETHEL
It was unworthy of me, unworthy of the higher and nobler things that life calls me to live up to
[proudly]
— that I shall live up to. The money means nothing to me — I am not thinking of that. It is merely a necessary form.
PIKE
Have you talked with Mr. St. Aubyn about this settlement — this present you want to make him?
ETHEL
Not with him.
PIKE
[amused]
I thought not! You’ll see — he wouldn’t take it if I’d let you give it to him. A fine man like that wants to make his own way, of course. Mighty few men like to have fun poked at ’em about livin’ on their wife’s money.
ETHEL
[despairingly]
Oh, I can’t make you understand! A settlement isn’t a gift.
PIKE
[as if humoring her]
How’d you happen to decide that just a hundred and fifty thousand pounds was what you wanted to give him?
ETHEL
It was Mr. St. Aubyn’s father who fixed the amount.
PIKE
His father? What’s he got to do with it?
ETHEL
He is the Earl of Hawcastle, the head of the ancient house.
PIKE
And he asks you for your property — asks you for it in so many words?
ETHEL
As a settlement!
PIKE
[aghast]
And your young man knows it?
ETHEL
I tell you I have not discussed it with Mr. St. Aubyn.
PIKE
[emphatically]
I reckon not! Well, sir, do you know what’s the first thing Mr. St. Aubyn will do when he hears his father’s made such a proposition to you? He’ll take the old man out in the back lot and give him a thrashing he won’t forget to the day of his death!
[The roll of drums is heard, distant, as if sounding below the cliff; bugle sounds at the same time.]
[MARIANO and MICHELE run hurriedly from the hotel and lean over balustrade at back, as if watching something below the cliff.]
[RIBIERE enters quickly with them, takes one quick glance in same direction, and hurries off.]
[PIKE and ETHEL, surprised, turn to look.]
MARIANO
[calling to ETHEL as he enters]
A bandit of Russia, Mademoiselle! The soldiers think he hide in a grotto under the cliff!
[ALMERIC comes on rapidly from the hotel, carrying a shot-gun.]
ALMERIC
[enthusiastically, as he enters]
Oh, I say, fair sport, by Jove! Fair sport!
PIKE
[to ETHEL, indicating ALMERIC, chuckling]
I saw him on the road here — what’s he meant for?
ALMERIC
Think I’ll have a chance to pot the beggar, Michele?
[He joins MICHELE at balustrade.]
MICHELE
No, Signore, there are two companies of carabiniere.
[PIKE, delighted, chuckles aloud.]
ETHEL
[angry, calling]
Almeric!
ALMERIC
[turning]
Hallo!
ETHEL
[frigidly]
I wish to present my guardian to you.
[To PIKE.]
This is Mr. St. Aubyn.
ALMERIC
[coming down]
Hallo, though! It’s the donkey man, isn’t it? How very odd! You’ll have to see the Governor and our solicitor about the settlement. I’ve some important business here. The police are chasing a bally convict chap under the cliffs over yonder, so you’ll have to excuse me. I’ll have to be toddling.
[Goes up to terrace wall overlooking cliffs.]
You know there’s nothing like a little convict shooting to break the blooming monotony — what?
[The bugle sounds. ALMERIC turns and rushes off.]
Wait for me, you fellows! Don’t hurt him till I get there!
[His voice dies away in the distance.]
PIKE
[turning to ETHEL with slow horror]
Seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars for — How much do they charge over here for a real man?
[She is unable to meet his eye. She turns, with flaming cheeks, and runs into the hotel. He stands staring after her, incredulous, dumfounded, in a frozen attitude.]
THE SECOND ACT
Scene: Entrance garden of the hotel.
In the distance are seen the green slopes of vineyards, a ruined castle, and olive orchards leading up the mountainside.
An old stone wall seven feet high runs across the rear of the stage. This wall is almost covered with vines, showing autumn tints, crowning the crest of the wall and hanging from it in profusion. There is a broad green gate of the Southern Italian type, closed. A white-columned pergola runs obliquely down from the wall on the right. The top of the pergola is an awning formed by a skeleton of green-painted wooden strips thickly covered by entwining lemon branches bearing ripening lemons. Between the columns of the pergola are glimpses of a formal Italian garden: flowers, hedges, and a broad flat marble vase on a slender pedestal, etc. On the left a two-story wing of the hotel meets the wall at the back and runs square across to the left; a lemon grove lies
to the left also. The wall of the hotel facing the audience shows open double doors, with windows up-stairs and below, all with lowered awnings. There is a marble bench at the left among shrubberies; an open touring-car upon the right under the awning formed by the overhang of the pergola; a bag of tools, open, on the stage near by, the floor boards of the car removed, the apron lifted.
As the curtain rises, PIKE, in his shirt-sleeves, his hands dirty, and wearing a workman’s long blouse buttoned at neck, is bending over the engine, working and singing, at intervals whistling “The Blue and the Gray.” His hat, duster, and cuffs are on the rear seat of the tonneau.
[Enter HORACE from the garden. He is flushed and angry; controls himself with an effort, trying to speak politely.]
HORACE
Mr. Pike!
PIKE
[apparently not hearing him, hammering at a bolt-head with a monkey-wrench and singing]
“One lies down at Appomattox—”
HORACE
[sharply]
Mr. Pike! Mr. Pike, I wish a word with you.
PIKE
[looks up mildly]
Hum!
[He moves to the other side of the engine, rubbing handle of monkey-wrench across his chin as if puzzled.]
HORACE
I wish to tell you that the surprise of this morning so upset me that I went for a long walk. I have just returned.
PIKE
[regarding the machine intently, sings softly]
“One wore clothes of gray — .”
[Then he whistles the air. Throughout this interview he maintains almost constantly an air of absorption in his work and continues to whistle and sing softly.]
HORACE
[continuing]
I have been even more upset by what I have just learned from my sister.
PIKE
[absently]
Why, that’s too bad.
HORACE
It is too bad — absurdly — monstrously bad! She tells me that she has done you the honor to present you to the family with which we are forming an alliance — to the Earl of Hawcastle — her fiancé’s father —
PIKE
[with cheerful absent-mindedness — working]
Yes, sir!
HORACE
[continuing]
To her fiancé’s aunt, Lady Creech —
PIKE
Yes, sir! the whole possetucky of them.
[Singing softly.]
“She was my hanky-panky-danky from the town of Kalamazack!” Yes, sir — that French lady, too.
[He throws a quick, keen glance at HORACE, then instantly appears absorbed in work again, singing,]
“She ran away with a circus clown — she never did come back — Oh, Solomon Levi!”
[Continues to whistle the tune softly.]
HORACE
And she introduced you to her fiancé — to Mr. St. Aubyn himself.
Collected Works of Booth Tarkington Page 524