Chapter II: Act II

_The scene is unchanged, but it is evening. The curtains are drawn over the portholes, and the electric lights are on. The centre door is open from time to time, and it is pitch black outside._

_On the left is seated_ Mrs. Cliveden-Banks. Mr. Lingley _is with her, seated at the table on the right._

LINGLEY. Well, I’m feeling very much better.

MRS. C-BANKS. I am so glad.

LINGLEY. I didn’t quite catch your name at dinner. Being introduced during the soup has its disadvantages. The lady sitting next to us made it a little difficult to hear concisely.

MRS. C-BANKS. Mrs. Cliveden-Banks. Yes, I foresaw trouble with her this morning. Er--Mrs. Midget.

LINGLEY. Thank you. I say, Mrs. Midget--

MRS. C-BANKS. No, no! No. _I_ am Cliveden-Banks.

LINGLEY. I apologise. What strikes me is that this line can’t be paying any dividends--Why there’s nobody on board.

MRS. C-BANKS. Bother dividends as long as I’m comfortable!

LINGLEY. This I think _is_ the best place.

MRS. C-BANKS. Quite a jolly little snuggery. (The Reverend William Duke _enters and comes down centre._) At least it _was_.

LINGLEY. Join me in a cigar, Duke?

REVEREND W. DUKE. Thank you.

MRS. C-BANKS (_after a glance at_ Duke). And I was so comfortable. Where on earth can I go to now, I wonder? (_Rises._)

LINGLEY. Oh! don’t go.

DUKE. I hope you are not leaving on my account?

MRS. C-BANKS. Your hope is shattered, sir, I am.

DUKE. Mrs. Cliveden-Banks, I don’t know what I’ve done to offend you. I can’t help being a parson. But I do know that you’ll make it very uncomfortable for the others if you go on like this. So come, look over my shortcomings just for the trip. Remember that to “err is human, to forgive divine.”

MRS. C-BANKS. Are you suggesting I have ever erred?

DUKE. In your case, I am certain such a thing would be impossible.

MRS. C-BANKS. Oh! very well. I sacrifice myself for the others’ sake. I am a generous woman. How do you do? (_Shaking hands._) But remember, Mr. Duke, if you _do_ drown us all, I’ll never speak to you again. (_Sits left._)

DUKE. Splendid! (_Sits right of table right._) Now, where are those other two? We might get up some bridge. We _must_ all do something our first night out.

MRS. C-BANKS. What other two do you mean?

DUKE. They--er--at dinner. They sat by themselves. Seemed awfully nice--quiet. I don’t know their names--I think the girl’s called Ann.

MRS. C-BANKS. Oh! that couple! Oh! dear! Did you like the look of _them_?

DUKE. Yes, didn’t you?

MRS. C-BANKS. No, I thought there was something funny about them.

LINGLEY. “Funny”?

DUKE. What do you mean by that?

MRS. C-BANKS. I don’t know. It just struck me they were funny. Not nice. I may be wrong. I hope I am. But that _is_ my opinion. Not nice. Funny.

(Mrs. Midget _wanders in from the deck. Now hatless._)

MRS. MIDGET. May I come in?

MRS. C-BANKS. Now I _shall_ go.

DUKE (_rises_). Yes, come in, Mrs. Midget, come in.

MRS. MIDGET (_entering_). It’s a bit lonely in the street.

DUKE. “Street”?

MRS. MIDGET. Out there.

MRS. C-BANKS. She means the deck--how quaint.

DUKE. It’s more cheerful in here, isn’t it?

MRS. MIDGET. Oh, much. (_Advancing left centre._)

DUKE. Sit down. You’re not nervous, now, are you?

MRS. MIDGET (_sits above table, right centre_). Not of you, sir. You wear just the same sort of collar as our parson does. I wish I was back in the Lambeth Road.

MRS. C-BANKS (_to_ Lingley). I can’t stand the creature. I really can’t--she’s too impossible. I shall squash her. Good evening, Mrs. Midget. We heard you at dinner. Very warm, this evening, isn’t it?

MRS. MIDGET. Yes, dearie. ’Ellish ’ot. Beggin’ your Reverence’s pardon. I’ve come out all of a sweat. (_Wiping her neck with handkerchief._)

MRS. C-BANKS. Dear me! Have you really? How embarrassing. What a day you have had, haven’t you? First of all you’re struck into a heap and now you’ve come out all of a--yes, exactly. Yet, I suppose you travel a great deal?

MRS. MIDGET. Every day. Lambeth to the Bank and from the Bank back to Lambeth. Workin’ in the City as I did--do.

MRS. C-BANKS. The city! How enthralling! Big financial interests, I presume?

MRS. MIDGET. No--charrin’. And in the old times we always managed Margate in the summer. Nice spot, Margate, ain’t it?

MRS. C-BANKS. I know nothing against it. I have never been there, of course.

MRS. MIDGET. Never been to Margate! (_To_ Duke.) Would you believe it?

DUKE. Yes.

MRS. MIDGET. Oh! you’d love Margate a treat, mum. What with the paddling and everything. Do you like cocoanuts?

MRS. C-BANKS. Cocoanuts? Oh good Lord no!

MRS. MIDGET. Ah! Then you mightn’t like Margate. They grow very good ones there though. At least they used to. Cors’ I ain’t been there since I lost all my money. Do you know, all of yer, believe me or believe me not, I once had a house of my very own.

MRS. C-BANKS. How magnificent!

MRS. MIDGET. Yes, wasn’t it? Though of course it wasn’t _all_ my own. No. Semi-detached, and lodgers yer know. Payin’ guests and very well it _did_ pay for donkey’s years. Well enough for me to make my son a gentleman anyway, and send him to a public school to prove it.

MRS. C-BANKS. Quite romantic. Perhaps I have met your dear boy? Where is he now? Cambridge or Cologne?

MRS. MIDGET. Well, ’avin’ become a gentleman ’e naturally lost all ’is money. And ’is money was my money. And I ain’t seen him since. ’E hasn’t seen me, not to know me, since ’e was a little boy. I got my brother-in-law, ’e’s rich, to take him over and manage things for me. You see I didn’t want to disgrace ’im. ’E’s been a good boy.

LINGLEY. Sounds it.

MRS. MIDGET (_resentfully_). ’E _was_ I tell yer. But you know what it is yerself, sir.

LINGLEY. I do not--I have never lost a penny in my life.

MRS. MIDGET. Ah! then you can’t be a gentleman.

LINGLEY. What?

MRS. MIDGET. Now the gentlemen my--my boy mixed with _were_ gents. Always broke, bless ’em, and then ’avin’ “another one” just to make ’em forget about it. And my boy the life and soul of the ’ole crowd. At least so the letter told me from the brother-in-law. And you can’t ’ave your cake and eat it, as the sayin’ goes, nor your gin and drink it _as_ you well know, sir.

LINGLEY. Confound it, madam, I do _not_ know.

DUKE. Sorrow’s sent to try us, Mrs. Midget.

MRS. MIDGET. Cors’ it’s sent to try us. What else could it be sent for. And it does try us very much.

DUKE. Yes--but sometimes as in your case--

MRS. C-BANKS. Mr. Duke means you would never have the steady poise, you would not be the woman of the world you so obviously are unless--

MRS. MIDGET. You’re trying to pull my leg, aren’t you?

DUKE. I’m afraid Mrs. Cliveden-Banks _was_ trying to. I certainly didn’t mean that.

MRS. MIDGET. Thank you, sir. (_Rises and crosses centre to_ Mrs. Cliveden-Banks.) Mum, I may not know the manners of Society, and if them is such as yours I do _not_ want to. With which terse remark I shuts up, being sorry for anything I’ve said. (_Moves up centre._)

DUKE. Yes, yes, quite, quite. Well, we must all _do_ something you know, time is getting on. What about those cards?

MRS. MIDGET (_coming down right_). Oh! I’d love a game o’ nap. (_Sits._) Mr. Prior was only telling me this afternoon before ’e--well ’e was telling me that ’e played cards.

LINGLEY. Prior--pooh!

MRS. MIDGET. _I_ like ’im anyway.

DUKE. Very unfortunate--Prior--Yes, yes, dear, dear, dear.

MRS. C-BANKS. Poor Mr. Prior! But I hear he’s always like that nowadays. A thoroughly bad lot in fact. Not that I would say so in public of course--but just between ourselves I mean. Oh! (_Laughs._) What a sight he was and what an exhibition he made of himself. I shall never forget it. Never! (_Laughs again._) Mr. Lingley, he called you a--dear, dear me--I can’t help smiling but he called you a--(_laughs_) didn’t he?

LINGLEY. Never mind what he called me, madam.

MRS. C-BANKS. Well, you _are_ rather like one you know, if you don’t mind my saying so. Where is he now, I wonder?

LINGLEY. Sleeping it off if he’s a wise man.

DUKE. Which he isn’t.

MRS. C-BANKS. He wasn’t at dinner naturally. I expect you all noticed it.

DUKE. Of course, of course. It’s a great shame, a great pity. (Tom _enters; he is very pale, tense and very quiet._) Ah! Prior!

MRS. C-BANKS. Mr. Prior! Why, we were just talking about you--

TOM. Indeed.

MRS. C-BANKS. Yes, I was only saying what a steady hand--

TOM. Don’t waste any more of your breath than is absolutely necessary, Mrs. Cliveden-Banks. Nor any of you either.

MRS. C-BANKS. I beg your pardon.

DUKE. What’s the matter now?

TOM. We’re trapped, that’s all.

DUKE (_rises_). Trapped!

TOM. Yes, trapped. Every one of us--all of us on this boat, we’re done for.

MRS. C-BANKS. What, _already_! (_Threateningly pointing to_ Duke.) Mr. _Duke_!!--

TOM. I mean it. You needn’t believe me if you don’t want to. It’s true all the same. We’re dead people.

LINGLEY. Oh, run away, run away, young man, and sleep it off.

TOM. I’m sober enough now. And the boat’s not sinking. I don’t mean that either.

LINGLEY. What the blazes _do_ you mean then, sir?

TOM. Duke, come here. Feel my pulse. Draw a chalk line on the floor and make me walk it if you want to. (Duke _moves up right of table to him._) Look at my eyes. Now--I am sober, aren’t I?

DUKE. Yes, I think so.

TOM. The last time I heard a clergyman say “Yes, I think so” was on the music-halls. Funny I shall never go to a Music Hall again.

MRS. MIDGET (_rises_). Why doesn’t someone put the poor young man to bed? It would be much kinder.

TOM. Quiet please. I don’t want to frighten you--any of you--but I feel--I ought to try and convince you. You admit I’m sober. You’ll have to take my word I’m not mad.

LINGLEY. I should want more than your word for that.

TOM. You shall have it. You shall have the word of the--the man who calls himself a steward, and the words of two of our fellow passengers. The two whom I see are not here.

LINGLEY. But what about, sir? What are you driving at?

TOM (_comes down left centre_). I began to suspect this morning before lunch. Nobody seemed to know where they were going to. I’d forgotten myself, though I didn’t admit it. I didn’t want to. I didn’t dare to. I daren’t now. When I was quite convinced, I got drunk. That was only natural. All my life I’ve started to face facts by getting drunk. Well--when--when I woke up again--about an hour ago, you were all in the saloon. I was frightened, terribly frightened. At last I got out of my cabin and went over the ship. I made myself. Yes, over her, all over her. Into the officers’ quarters and everything. No one said a word to me for a very simple reason. There’s no one on board _to_ say anything. No captain, no crew, no nothing.

MRS. C-BANKS. If there’s _no_ crew on board this ship, Mr. Prior, may I ask who waited on _me_ at dinner.

TOM. There’s no one at all on board this ship, excepting we five--and those two--and the steward. _He_ waited on you at dinner. He’s in charge of the ship. I made myself find out. Do you know where that steward is now? He’s in the rigging--sitting cross legged--high up in the rigging. I’ve just seen him.

MRS. MIDGET. It’s takin’ ’im in a funny way, ain’t it?

DUKE (_advancing on_ Tom). Really, Prior, I think that--

TOM (_turning to_ Duke). I don’t know what I’m talking about? Very well, then, answer me this. Who have you, any of you, seen on board this ship since she sailed? Excepting ourselves? Mrs. Midget, perhaps you can help. (_Going to_ Mrs. Midget.) When I sent you to your stewardess this morning, did you see her?

MRS. MIDGET. See who? I saw no one except the fellow I went with. And first rate he looked after me. Got me a cup of tea and--

TOM. I tell you I--. (_Turns to_ Duke.) Padre--Padre, think carefully, who exactly have _you_ spoken to?

DUKE. I--really, I--I have seen men about of course.

TOM. Have you? Have you indeed? What sort of men, sailors?

DUKE. Yes, I think so.

TOM. In the same way that you thought I was sober.

MRS. C-BANKS. You don’t expect us to talk to sailors, do you, Mr. Prior, able bodied though they may be.

TOM. Have any of you met anybody else then? A Purser, an officer of any sort, even a stoker?

LINGLEY. That reminds me. In your gigantic tour of this vessel did you by any chance strike the engine room?

TOM. No, I couldn’t find it.

LINGLEY. A pity! I’d hoped you were going to say the ship was worked by elastic--ha, ha, ha.

(Mrs. Cliveden-Banks _laughs also._)

TOM. Joke if you want to. If that _is_ a joke. Well, Padre, speak up.

DUKE. Well, I--I must have met someone of course.

TOM. You _should_ have met someone you mean. But you’ve not. Padre, where are _you_ landing?

DUKE. Landing? I’m going to--of course I’m going to--mind your own business.

TOM. _Where are you landing?_

DUKE. I’m taking a little holiday that’s all. I’m going first to--to--

TOM. You see you can’t remember. I’m right! I knew I was. Why, look at the quiet way we sail. Was anybody here to see any of us off? No, you know they weren’t. Because you can’t see people off--not right off--to where we’re going.

LINGLEY. I wish you’d get out, sir, we want to play cards.

TOM. Cards--pah! Lingley, Lingley, (_down to_ Lingley) you’re impossible! Why I should try and warn _you_, I don’t know. Still can you really, honestly tell me you’ve seen nothing queer about this boat?

LINGLEY. Nothing whatever--excepting you. She’s exactly the same as any other boat--go away.

TOM. Is she? Is she indeed?

(Henry _and_ Ann _appear at the centre door and cross down left. They are as ever, close together and almost always hand in hand, and aloof from the others._)

TOM. Well, I’ll tell you one little thing I noticed about her that struck me as slightly different. This boat doesn’t carry a port light--no--and she doesn’t carry a starboard one either! _Now_ is she the same as any other? _Now_ can you settle down to your cards?

LINGLEY. You _are_ mad?

TOM. Go and look then! Get on deck. You can find out if you go forward for yourself, and if you can see ’em--you’re mad.

LINGLEY. I shouldn’t make such a fool of myself.

TOM (_seeing_ Ann _and_ Henry). Ah!--you’re just in time.

HENRY. What for?

TOM. To give these people their chance--to stop them making fools of themselves--to back me up.

HENRY. I don’t quite follow.

TOM. You know--you knew this morning.

HENRY. Knew what?

TOM. You’ve been on deck?

HENRY. Just now.

TOM. Notice anything wrong? (_A pause._)

HENRY. What with?

TOM. Oh! don’t pretend--don’t lie to me.

HENRY. Really, I _don’t_ understand.

TOM. Then you don’t understand how you got here either I suppose? How either of you got here. (_Up to them._) Gas, my dear sir, sheer gas.

ANN. Henry, don’t speak to him! (_Moves down a step._) He frightens me.

TOM. Yes, I suppose I do. I know as well, you see.

MRS. C-BANKS. He’s trying to frighten us, that’s all.

LINGLEY. Madam, I must apologise for our fellow passenger. He--he is not--ahem--well.

TOM (_moves down a step_). Of course I’m not well. Under the circumstances I should have thought that would have been obvious.

LINGLEY (_rises_). Mr. Duke, I see an unpleasant duty will have to be performed. As a clergyman you must be more used to unpleasantness than any of us. Will you please perform it.

DUKE. What do you want me to do?

LINGLEY. Get him to the doctor--or lock him up.

(Duke _moves slightly to centre door._)

TOM (_up to centre door_). The doctor! I tell you there _is_ no doctor. No one! And if you try any of that sort of thing on, I’ll make trouble.

MRS. C-BANKS. Oh, dear, how selfish.

TOM. But I tell you what you _can_ do if you like--

LINGLEY. Well?

TOM. I’ll make a bargain with you.

LINGLEY. What is it?

TOM. Go out there--one of you men and convince yourselves about those lights. Then if I’m wrong--well I’ll go quietly.

MRS. MIDGET. That seems fair, poor fellow.

TOM. Well? What do you say? Mr. Lingley, will you oblige?

LINGLEY. I should never dream of interfering with the ship’s discipline.

TOM (_to_ Henry). It’s no good asking _you_, of course?

HENRY. No.

TOM. Padre--you’re the only one left--what do you say?

DUKE. If I do it--just to satisfy you--you’ll keep your word.

TOM. Yes.

DUKE. Very well then.

LINGLEY. Preposterous! (_Sits down._)

TOM. Thank you. (Duke _goes slowly to doorway._) Oh! Duke, the truth.

DUKE. Of course.

(Duke _goes quietly out on to the deck._)

LINGLEY. Weak, weak.

MRS. C-BANKS. Ah! the Church was always like that!

TOM. Don’t you run the Church down so. Take my advice, you may want her help very badly before long. (_Sits left of table right._) Wait until I’m proved right.

MRS. C-BANKS. I simply ignore you, Mr. Prior. You won’t be right. That is why I ignore you.

(Drake’s _drum is faintly heard, a heavily muffled and mysterious and irregular beating._)

LINGLEY. Childish weak foolishness giving in to you. _I’ve_ never given into anyone. No one’s ever given in to me. I should never expect them to. You’re drunk, sir, and you’re in the wrong, sir and--

(_The Drum stops._)

TOM. Quiet. (_Rises._) I can hear something--out there.

HENRY. What is it?

TOM. Wait a minute--it’s stopped now.

LINGLEY. I didn’t hear anything.

TOM. I did. It sounded like a drum.

LINGLEY. A drum?

TOM. Yes. A muffled drum.

MRS. C-BANKS. Very possibly it _was_ a muffled drum.

LINGLEY. Very possibly it was imagination.

MRS. C-BANKS. What’s the good of talking about things out there in the cold, anyway. Let’s concentrate on making it nice and comfortable in here for our cards, (_to_ Tom) which we hope to start the moment you’ve gone.

TOM (_moving towards her_). Mrs. Cliveden-Banks, you’re an ostrich! I’m sorry, but you are. You’re in danger, great danger of something out there--something I don’t know what it is--but it may affect your very soul--yet all you can think about is light and warmth and cards in here. So the only word for you _is_ ostrich.

LINGLEY (_smiling_). Dear me, dear me, I can’t help smiling but he called you a--didn’t he?

ANN (_looking out on to the deck_). Oh! why doesn’t he come back? (_In terrified impatience._)

HENRY. Steady, steady. (_To others._) My wife is easily upset. (_Draws her away from door left._)

MRS. MIDGET. Poor dear.

LINGLEY. It’s too bad of you, Prior.

TOM. Is it?

ANN. What has happened to him?

TOM. To whom?

ANN. The clergyman--of course.

TOM. Oh! Duke. Who knows? Perhaps he can’t get back. He’s only been a second away.

ANN. You don’t think--(_Drum starts again, beating irregularly and a trifle more loudly._)

TOM. I don’t think, because I don’t know any more than you do. Hark! (_A pause._) Listen, there it is again. The drum!

LINGLEY. Um! _I_ must be getting deaf!

(Duke _appears as if breathless--a pause--He is pale and agitated, terrified--but tries to conceal it._)

TOM (_tensely anxious_). Well--well?

LINGLEY. Well--speak, Mr. Duke. (_A pause._)

ANN (_with a great effort at dissembling_). It’s--it’s all right, of course.

LINGLEY. Duke? (_Another pause._) It _is_ all right?

DUKE. Of course.

LINGLEY. Everything?

DUKE. Everything.

(_Drum stops._)

MRS. C-BANKS. I knew it would be all the time.

TOM (_rushing up and throwing himself on_ Duke). You liar! You liar! Come with me--I’ll show you. (_Grabs him by throat._)

(Lingley _rises._)

DUKE (_struggling with him_). Prior! (Mrs. Midget _rises._ Lingley _seizes_ Tom’s _neck._ Ann _and_ Henry _up left huddled together in alarm._) You promised to go quietly.

TOM. You swore to tell the truth! _You clergyman_, you dirty liar!

DUKE. Got him, Lingley?

TOM (_struggling violently_). I’ll show you! No more lies! Now we’re dead, you bloody liar! I won’t be cheated! I _will_ make you understand! I’m trying to help I tell you--help us all!!!

LINGLEY. Be quiet, sir.

(_They bring_ Tom _to chair left of table right. He sinks to chair and with head buried in arms on table sobs hysterically but quietly--exhausted._)

MRS. C-BANKS. If wanted, I’ll be in the Ladies’ Writing Room. (_Going left._) A long letter you know, while the details are still fresh. (_Turns._) Coming dear? (_Sees she is speaking to_ Mrs. Midget--_Turns at door._) Oh no! (_She goes out with her nose in the air._)

(Mrs. Midget _crosses and Exits left following_ Mrs. Cliveden-Banks. _All stand quietly for a moment’s pause._)

HENRY (_to_ Ann). Dear?

ANN (_as she goes_). I’ll wait on deck.

LINGLEY (_to_ Henry). Shut those doors.

(Henry _closes centre door._)

LINGLEY. _And now, sir._

DUKE (_coming down to_ Prior). Prior. I apologise.

LINGLEY. What do you mean?

DUKE. That Mr. Prior was perfectly right.

LINGLEY. What?

DUKE. There _is_ no--there’s no starboard--no--

LINGLEY. There’s _not_!

DUKE. No. There’s no light on the boat at all. She’s as black as pitch.

LINGLEY. Impossible.

DUKE. Look for yourself.

LINGLEY (_alarmed now, crosses to centre door, opens it and glances out into the dark, then shuts it. Then hesitates and turns_). But--the bridge?

DUKE. As far as I could see there’s nothing--nothing anywhere.

LINGLEY. Nothing--nobody?

DUKE. I’m not even certain that we’re moving.

LINGLEY (_coming back_). Good heavens, man, why didn’t you tell us this at once?

DUKE. I didn’t want to alarm the ladies.

LINGLEY. Women drown as easily as men.

DUKE. Is this a question of drowning? Something must be done--we must all do something immediately. (_Sits right of table right._)

TOM. Exactly, but what?

LINGLEY (_thoroughly rattled_). To begin with--well--somebody--somebody ought to ring a bell.

TOM. And get someone else to explain.

LINGLEY. Duke--do you--do you believe in all this?

DUKE. I don’t understand it.

LINGLEY (_to_ Henry). And you, sir?

HENRY. I don’t understand it either.

TOM. That’s not true! (_Rises._) And you know it’s not true!

DUKE. Prior! Now look here, when did you first feel certain, in your mind, about all this?

TOM (_pointing at_ Henry--_sits on table_). After I’d heard something he said. I spoke to the steward, I asked him if--he told me the truth I’m sure--it seems we’re sailing for (_pause_)--both Hell and Heaven.

DUKE. Very interesting from a professional point of view of course.

TOM. If there’s anything else you want to know better ask _him, the steward_.

DUKE. Where is he now I wonder?

LINGLEY. Still sitting high up in the rigging I expect.

TOM. Don’t be sarcastic! He was there.

LINGLEY. Was he? (_Rises, takes one step towards_ Tom.) Then how did you see him if it’s all dark outside?

TOM (_vaguely_). That never struck me. But he was there.

(Scrubby _enters, softly strolls across towards centre._)

DUKE (_rises_). We must hurry. Whilst we’re talking like this we may be drifting on to the rocks--crashing into something or--

SCRUBBY (_always very kindly, very quiet and compassionate--like a tolerant elder to children_). No, sir, you won’t do that.

LINGLEY. Now look here, my man. What is all this nonsense? I can’t stand excitement. My doctor ordered rest and quiet. Where’s the Captain? Take me to him!

SCRUBBY. Oh, he left long ago, sir.

LINGLEY. Enough of that! Understand? By Gad when I get back to London I’ll report--

SCRUBBY. I’m afraid you won’t get back to London, sir--

LINGLEY. No more of your impertinence! Take me to the Captain!--do you hear?--you’re only a damned servant--take me to him--

DUKE. Mr. Lingley, I think we should _all_ keep our tempers.

SCRUBBY. That’s all right, sir, I’ve known a lot of them to get angry at first.

LINGLEY. A lot of whom?

SCRUBBY. People like you, sir, who are just beginning.

LINGLEY. Beginning?

SCRUBBY. To be passengers.

TOM. What you told me this morning _was_ true, wasn’t it?

SCRUBBY. That we’re dead, sir? Yes, quite dead if that’s what you mean.

LINGLEY. You speak for yourself.

DUKE. It _is_ queer. (_Sits right of table right._)

SCRUBBY. Why, sir? We didn’t think it was queer when we were born.

LINGLEY. Now listen. I don’t want any mysteries.

SCRUBBY. There are none, sir.

LINGLEY. And I mean to get in touch with someone at once--ah! I have it, the wireless!

SCRUBBY. She doesn’t carry any, sir.

LINGLEY. That’s illegal anyway! Duke? (_A pause._) Duke?

DUKE. I’m afraid I can’t suggest anything.

LINGLEY. But--but--! (_Suddenly overcome with fear._) I must get out of this--I must get out of it.

SCRUBBY. That, sir, is impossible until after the examination.

LINGLEY. What examination?

SCRUBBY. You’ll find out later, sir.

LINGLEY. The ladies ought to be warned immediately.

SCRUBBY. I should leave them to find out for themselves, sir, if I were you. I have known some of them not to like the idea to begin with and get hysterical. It is kinder to let them find out for themselves.

DUKE. They will find out?

SCRUBBY. Undoubtedly, sir.

LINGLEY (_suddenly seeing_ Henry). Damn it--don’t stand there saying nothing--get upset!

HENRY. I am--of course.

LINGLEY. You’re a bright lot all of you, aren’t you? So helpful--but--but--what are we to do? What are we to do? (_To_ Duke.) _You’re_ always talking about doing things? What are we to do?

DUKE. I really--don’t know. Of course, if we were all quite certain--a prayer--

LINGLEY. Is praying going to bring the captain or the crew to life?

TOM. Or any of us, for that.

SCRUBBY. There’s no danger, gentlemen, if _that’s_ what you’re frightened of.

LINGLEY. Isn’t there?

SCRUBBY. No, sir.

LINGLEY. _I’m_ not frightened.

DUKE. I am. How many times have _you_ made this passage, steward?

SCRUBBY. About five thousand times, sir.

LINGLEY. Five--

SCRUBBY. Yes. I was lost young.

DUKE. And it’s always been like this?

SCRUBBY. Not always, sir. No. As I was telling this gentleman (_referring to_ Prior), the passengers don’t find out so quickly as a rule. I suppose it’s because of the half-ways we’ve got on board this trip.

DUKE. Half-ways?

SCRUBBY. Yes, sir, it sometimes _does_ work like that.

LINGLEY. There is no point in standing here talking to a lunatic. The question is--“What is--?”

SCRUBBY. --to be done? That’s what they _all_ ask, sir. There’s _nothing_ to be done. Just go on as if nothing had happened.

TOM. How simple.

SCRUBBY. Quite, sir, quite. You’ll find everything simple now. Until it comes to the examination.

LINGLEY. Don’t talk to me as if I were a schoolboy.

SCRUBBY. It _is_ rather like going to school, sir.

LINGLEY. Stop! It’s all right. Everything’s all right. I’ve solved the whole thing suddenly.

HENRY. Have you? (_Still up left aloof._)

LINGLEY. Of course I have. I’m asleep. I’m safe really. I’m simply asleep.

TOM. What am I?--part of the nightmare?

LINGLEY. I’ve had dreams like this before. Go away, go away, all you people. It’s no good you waiting! I’m Lingley of Lingley Ltd. Not one of you can touch me. I turned myself into a company years ago. Only go away now. (_A pause and then he turns to the steward._) _I am asleep_, aren’t I?

SCRUBBY. Yes, sir--sound asleep--or just waking.

LINGLEY. Good, good. Now get away, get away all you people. I shall go. I will go. (_Crosses to door left._) Isn’t that lucky! I _can_ go. You know, in _some_ dreams, you _can’t_.

(Lingley _walks off left._)

SCRUBBY (_following him_). Don’t worry, gentlemen, I’ll look after him.

(Scrubby _follows him._)

DUKE. A good sleep would be the very best thing for LINGLEY.

TOM. Would it?

DUKE. Eh?

TOM. Well, I mean--you know--would it help now?

DUKE. Oh! yes, of course--I’d forgotten--I really don’t know. I--I don’t understand. I’m quite a young man and there’s such a lot of work to be done after my holiday.

TOM. Try some of this whisky--it still seems to work.

DUKE (_rises_). No, I don’t think I will if you’ll excuse me, in case we--we meet anyone.

TOM (_toying idly with glass_). I’m awfully sorry. I’m afraid I’m a fearful rotter, I’m so used to it. Any crises you--(_He puts down the glass. Both sit on front of table._) I say--I say--(_Pause._) Charles Reid--or some other rotten novelist once said “Never too late to mend,” didn’t he? Do you think there’s any truth in novels? And then there was that other chap--the Great One, you know, in the Bible, he said--he--There you are, you see; that’s the sort of fellow I am! I’ve forgotten what _he_ said.

DUKE. Does it really much matter what either of them said? Isn’t it more to the point what _you_ have got to say?

TOM. No sermons! But, if you please, I would like to talk to you seriously if you’d listen to me, out there in the dark.

DUKE (_rises_). Shall we go out there--in the dark--and talk to each other, shipmate?

TOM (_humorously_). This is a great chance for _you_, isn’t it?

DUKE. We must both, my dear Prior, keep our sense of humour. (_Moves up to door centre. To_ Henry _at door_). Coming out, sir? (_With_ Tom _to door arm in arm._)

HENRY. No, not yet. (_Still up left._)

DUKE. See you later then. (_He goes out._)

HENRY. Yes.

TOM. I say, your wife’s out there, isn’t she?

HENRY. Yes.

TOM. Shall I send her to you?

HENRY. Oh--thank you.

TOM (_returning a step from door_). You must have known or you wouldn’t have let her be out there alone.

HENRY. I knew _nothing_. I know nothing now, Good-night.

TOM. I suppose so. (_He walks out on to the deck and disappears. There is a pause and then_ Henry _calls_ “Ann.” _Another pause. He calls again._ Ann _enters from the deck._)

HENRY. Ann--(_A pause._) Come here. (_Crosses right to above table._)

ANN. What is it? (_She goes to left of_ Henry.)

HENRY. Come here.

ANN. I’m with you.

HENRY. Ann--listen--they know we’re dead--they’re--they’re finding out our secret.

ANN (_frightened_). I know! I know they are! (_They look at each other._)

HENRY. What will they _do_ to us dear?

ANN (_getting closer to him_). They won’t separate us--will they?

CURTAIN.