Chapter VI: Part 6

CAPT. G. My poor little love! Why, you're shaking all over. I _am_ so sorry. Of course I never meant to upset you. Don't tell me anything. I'm a brute.

MRS. G. No, you aren't, and I _will_ tell--There was a man.

CAPT. G. (_Lightly._) Was there? Lucky man!

MRS. G. (_In a whisper._) And I thought I cared for him.

CAPT. G. Still luckier man! Well?

MRS. G. And I thought I cared for him--and I didn't--and then you came--and I cared for you very, _very_ much indeed. That's all. (_Face hidden._) You aren't angry, are you?

CAPT. G. Angry? Not in the least. (_Aside._) Good Lord, what have I done to deserve this angel?

MRS. G. (_Aside._) And he never asked for the name! How funny men are! But perhaps it's as well.

CAPT. G. That man will go to heaven because you once thought you cared for him. 'Wonder if you'll ever drag me up there?

MRS. G. (_Firmly._) 'Shan't go if you don't.

CAPT. G. Thanks. I say, Pussy, I don't know much about your religious beliefs. You were brought up to believe in a heaven and all that, weren't you?

MRS. G. Yes. But it was a pincushion heaven, with hymn-books in all the pews.

CAPT. G. (_Wagging his head with intense conviction._) Never mind. There is a _pukka_ heaven.

MRS. G. Where do you bring that message from, my prophet?

CAPT. G. Here! Because we care for each other. So it's all right.

MRS. G. (_As a troop of langurs crash through the branches._) So it's all right. But Darwin says that we came from _those!_

CAPT. G. (_Placidly._) Ah! Darwin was never in love with an angel. That settles it. Sstt, you brutes! Monkeys, indeed! You shouldn't read those books.

MRS. G. (_Folding her hands._) If it pleases my Lord the King to issue proclamation.

CAPT. G. Don't, dear one. There are no orders between us. Only I'd _rather_ you didn't. They lead to nothing, and bother people's heads.

MRS. G. Like your first engagement.

CAPT.G. (_With an immense calm._) That was a necessary evil and led to you. Are _you_ nothing?

MRS. G. Not so very much, am I?

CAPT. G. All this world and the next to me.

MRS. G. (_Very softly._) My boy of boys! Shall I tell _you_ something?

CAPT. G. Yes, if it's not dreadful--about other men.

MRS. G. It's about my own bad little self.

CAPT. G. Then it must be good. Go on, dear.

MRS. G. (_Slowly._) I don't know why I'm telling you, Pip; but if ever you marry again--(_Interlude._) Take your hand from my mouth or I'll _bite!_ In the future, then remember--I don't know quite how to put it!

CAPT. G. (_Snorting indignantly._) Don't try. 'Marry again,' indeed!

MRS. G. I must. Listen, my husband. Never, never, _never_ tell your wife anything that you do not wish her to remember and think over all her life. Because a woman--yes, I _am_ a woman--_can't_ forget.

CAPT. G. By Jove, how do _you_ know that?

MRS. G. (_Confusedly._) I don't. I'm only guessing. I am--I was--a silly little girl; but I feel that I know so much, oh, so very much more than you, dearest. To begin with, I'm your wife.

CAPT. G. So I have been led to believe.

MRS. G. And I shall want to know every one of your secrets--to share everything you know with you. (_Stares round desperately._)

CAPT. G. So you shall, dear, so you shall--but don't look like that.

MRS. G. For your own sake don't stop me, Phil. I shall never talk to you in this way again. You must _not_ tell me! At least, not now. Later on, when I'm an old matron it won't matter, but if you love me, be very good to me now; for this part of my life I shall _never_ forget! Have I made you understand?

CAPT. G. I think so, child. Have I said anything yet that you disapprove of?

MRS. G. Will you be _very_ angry? That--that voice, and what you said about the engagement--

CAPT. G. But you _asked_ to be told that, darling.

MRS. G. And _that's_ why you shouldn't have told me! You must be the judge, and, oh, Pip, dearly as I love you, I shan't be able to help you! I shall hinder you, and you must judge in spite of me!

CAPT. G. (_Meditatively._) We have a great many things to find out together, God help us both--say so, Pussy--but we shall understand each other better every day; and I think I'm beginning to see now. How in the world did you come to know just the importance of giving me just that lead?

MRS. G. I've told you that I _don't_ know. Only somehow it seemed that, in all this new life, I was being guided for your sake as well as my own.

CAPT. G. (_Aside._) Then Mafflin was right! They know, and we--we're blind--all of us. (_Lightly._) 'Getting a little beyond our depth, dear, aren't we? I'll remember, and, if I fail, let me be punished as I deserve.

MRS. G. There shall be no punishment. We'll start into life together from here--you and I--and no one else.

CAPT. G. And no one else. (_A pause._) Your eyelashes are all wet, Sweet? Was there ever such a quaint little Absurdity?

MRS. G. Was there ever such nonsense talked before?

CAPT. G. (_Knocking the ashes out of his pipe._) 'Tisn't what we say, it's what we don't say, that helps. And it's all the profoundest philosophy. But no one would understand--even if it were put into a book.

MRS. G. The idea! No--only we ourselves, or people like ourselves--if there are any people like us.

CAPT. G. (_Magisterially._) All people, not like ourselves, are blind idiots.

MRS. G. (_Wiping her eyes._) Do you think, then, that there are any people as happy as we are?

CAPT. G. 'Must be--unless we've appropriated all the happiness in the world.

MRS. G. (_Looking towards Simla._) Poor dears! Just fancy if we have!

CAPT. G. Then we'll hang on to the whole show, for it's a great deal too jolly to lose--eh, wife o' mine?

MRS. G. O Pip! Pip! How much of you is a solemn, married man and how much a horrid, slangy schoolboy?

CAPT. G. When you tell me how much of you was eighteen last birthday and how much is as old as the Sphinx and twice as mysterious, perhaps I'll attend to you. Lend me that banjo. The spirit moveth me to yowl at the sunset.

MRS. G. Mind! It's not tuned. Ah! How that jars.

CAPT. G. (_Turning pegs._) It's amazingly difficult to keep a banjo to proper pitch.

MRS. G. It's the same with all musical instruments. What shall it be?

CAPT. G. 'Vanity,' and let the hills hear. (_Sings through the first and half of the second verse. Turning to_ MRS. G.) Now, chorus! Sing, Pussy!

BOTH TOGETHER. (_Con brio, to the horror of the monkeys who are settling for the night._)--

'Vanity, all is Vanity,' said Wisdom, scorning me--
I clasped my true Love's tender hand and answered
frank and free--ee:--

'If this be Vanity who'd be wise?
If this be Vanity who'd be wise?
If this be Vanity who'd be wi--ise?
(_Crescendo._) Vanity let it be!'

MRS. G. (_Defiantly to the gray of the evening sky._) 'Vanity let it be!'

ECHO. (_From the Fagoo spur._) Let it be!

FATIMA

And you may go into every room of the house and see everything that is there, but into the Blue Room you must _not_ go.--_The Story of Blue Beard._

SCENE.--_The_ GADSBYS' _bungalow in the Plains. Time,_ 11 A. M. _on a Sunday morning._ CAPTAIN GADSBY, _in his shirt-sleeves, is bending over a complete set of Hussar's equipment, from saddle to picketing-rope, which is neatly spread over the floor of his study. He is smoking an unclean briar, and his forehead is puckered with thought._

CAPT. G. (_To himself, fingering a headstall._) Jack's an ass. There's enough brass on this to load a mule--and, if the Americans know anything about anything, it can be cut down to a bit only. 'Don't want the watering-bridle, either. Humbug!--Half a dozen sets of chains and pulleys for one horse! Rot! (_Scratching his head._) Now, let's consider it all over from the beginning. By Jove, I've forgotten the scale of weights! Ne'er mind. 'Keep the bit only, and eliminate every boss from the crupper to breastplate. No breastplate at all. Simple leather strap across the breast--like the Russians. Hi! Jack never thought of _that!_

MRS. G. (_Entering hastily, her hand bound in a cloth._) Oh, Pip, I've scalded my hand over that horrid, horrid Tiparee jam!

CAPT. G. (_Absently._) Eh! Wha-at?

MRS. G. (_With round-eyed reproach._) I've scalded it _aw_-fully! Aren't you sorry? And I _did_ so want that jam to jam properly.

CAPT. G. Poor little woman! Let me kiss the place and make it well. (_Unrolling bandage._) You small sinner! Where's that scald? I can't see it.

MRS. G. On the top of the little finger. There!--It's a most 'normous big burn!

CAPT. G. (_Kissing little finger._) Baby! Let Hyder look after the jam. You know I don't care for sweets.

MRS. G. In-deed?--Pip!

CAPT. G. Not of that kind, anyhow. And now run along, Minnie, and leave me to my own base devices. I'm busy.

MRS. G. (_Calmly settling herself in long chair._) So I see. What a mess you're making! Why have you brought all that smelly leather stuff into the house?

CAPT. G. To play with. Do you mind, dear?

MRS. G. Let _me_ play too. I'd like it.

CAPT. G. I'm afraid you wouldn't, Pussy--Don't you think that jam will burn, or whatever it is that jam does when it's not looked after by a clever little housekeeper?

MRS. G. I thought you said Hyder could attend to it. I left him in the veranda, stirring--when I hurt myself so.

CAPT. G. (_His eye returning to the equipment._) Po-oor little woman!--Three pounds four and seven is three eleven, and that can be cut down to two eight, with just a _lee_-tle care, without weakening anything. Farriery is all rot in incompetent hands. What's the use of a shoe-case when a man's scouting? He can't stick it on with a lick--like a stamp--the shoe! Skittles!

MRS. G. What's skittles? Pah! What _is_ this leather cleaned with?

CAPT. G. Cream and champagne and--Look here, dear, do you really want to talk to me about anything important?

MRS. G. No. I've done my accounts, and I thought I'd like to see what you're doing.

CAPT. G. Well, love, now you've seen and--Would you mind?--That is to say--Minnie, I really _am_ busy.

MRS. G. You want me to go?

CAPT. G. Yes, dear, for a little while. This tobacco will hang in your dress, and saddlery doesn't interest you.

MRS. G. Everything you do interests me, Pip.

CAPT. G. Yes, I know, I know, dear. I'll tell you all about it some day when I've put a head on this thing. In the meantime--

MRS. G. I'm to be turned out of the room like a troublesome child?

CAPT. G. No-o. I don't mean that exactly. But, you see, I shall be tramping up and down, shifting these things to and fro, and I shall be in your way. Don't you think so?

MRS. G. Can't I lift them about? Let me try. (_Reaches forward to trooper's saddle._)

CAPT. G. Good gracious, child, don't touch it. You'll hurt yourself. (_Picking up saddle._) Little girls aren't expected to handle _numdahs._ Now, where would you like it put? (_Holds saddle above his head._)

MRS. G. (_A break in her voice._) Nowhere. Pip, how good you are--and how strong! Oh, what's that ugly red streak inside your arm?

CAPT. G. (_Lowering saddle quickly._) Nothing. It's a mark of sorts. (_Aside._) And Jack's coming to tiffin with _his_ notions all cut and dried!

MRS. G. I know it's a mark, but I've never seen it before. It runs all up the arm. What is it?

CAPT. G. A cut--if you want to know.

MRS. G. Want to know! Of course I do! I can't have my husband cut to pieces in this way. How did it come? Was it an accident? Tell me, Pip.

CAPT. G. (_Grimly._) No. 'Twasn't an accident. I got it--from a man--in Afghanistan.

MRS. G. In action? Oh, Pip, and you _never_ told me!

CAPT. G. I'd forgotten all about it.

MRS. G. Hold up your arm! What a horrid, ugly scar! Are you sure it doesn't hurt now? How did the man give it you?

CAPT. G. (_Desperately looking at his watch._) With a knife. I came down--old Van Loo did, that's to say--and fell on my leg, so I couldn't run. And then this man came up and began chopping at me as I sprawled.

MRS. G. Oh, don't, don't! That's enough!--Well, what happened?

CAPT. G. I couldn't get to my holster, and Mafflin came round the corner and stopped the performance.

MRS. G. How? He's such a lazy man, I don't believe he did.

CAPT. G. Don't you? I don't think the man had much doubt about it. Jack cut his head off.

MRS. G. Cut--his--head--off! 'With one blow,' as they say in the books?

CAPT. G. I'm not sure. I was too interested in myself to know much about it. Anyhow, the head was off, and Jack was punching old Van Loo in the ribs to make him get up. Now you know all about it, dear, and now--

MRS. G. You want me to go, of course. You never told me about this, though I've been married to you for _ever_ so long; and you never _would_ have told me if I hadn't found out; and you never _do_ tell me anything about yourself, or what you do, or what you take an interest in.

CAPT. G. Darling, I'm always with you, aren't I?

MRS. G. Always in my pocket, you were going to say. I know you are; but you are always _thinking_ away from me.

CAPT. G. (_Trying to hide a smile._) Am I? I wasn't aware of it. I'm awf'ly sorry.

MRS. G. (_Piteously._) Oh, don't make fun of me! Pip, you know what I mean. When you are reading one of those things about Cavalry, by that idiotic Prince--why doesn't he _be_ a Prince instead of a stable-boy?

CAPT. G. Prince Kraft a stable-boy--Oh, my Aunt! Never mind, dear. You were going to say?

MRS. G. It doesn't matter; you don't care for what I say. Only--only you get up and walk about the room, staring in front of you, and then Mafflin comes in to dinner, and after I'm in the drawing-room I can hear you and him talking, and talking, and talking, about things I can't understand, and--oh, I get _so_ tired and feel _so_ lonely!--I don't want to complain and be a trouble, Pip; but I do--indeed I do!

CAPT. G. My poor darling! I never thought of that. Why don't you ask some nice people in to dinner?

MRS. G. Nice people! Where am I to find them? Horrid frumps! And if I _did_, I shouldn't be amused. You know I only want _you._

CAPT. G. And you have me surely, Sweetheart?

MRS. G. I have not! Pip, why don't you take me into your life?

CAPT. G. More than I do? That would be difficult, dear.

MRS. G. Yes, I suppose it would--to you. I'm no help to you--no companion to you; and you like to have it so.

CAPT. G. Aren't you a little unreasonable, Pussy?

MRS. G. (_Stamping her foot._) I'm the most reasonable woman in the world--when I'm treated properly.

CAPT. G. And since when have I been treating you improperly?

MRS. G. Always--and since the beginning. You _know_ you have.

CAPT. G. I don't; but I'm willing to be convinced.

MRS. G. (_Pointing to saddlery._) There!

CAPT. G. How do you mean?

MRS. G. What does all _that_ mean? Why am I not to be told? Is it so precious?

CAPT. G. I forget its exact Government value just at present. It means that it is a great deal too heavy.

MRS. G. Then why do you touch it?

CAPT. G. To make it lighter. See here, little love, I've one notion and Jack has another, but we are both agreed that all this equipment is about thirty pounds too heavy. The thing is how to cut it down without weakening any part of it, and, at the same time, allowing the trooper to carry everything he wants for his own comfort--socks and shirts and things of that kind.

MRS. G. Why doesn't he pack them in a little trunk?

CAPT. G. (_Kissing her._) Oh, you darling! Pack them in a little trunk, indeed! Hussars don't carry trunks, and it's a most important thing to make the horse do all the carrying.

MRS. G. But why need _you_ bother about it? You're not a trooper.

CAPT. G. No; but I command a few score of him; and equipment is nearly everything in these days.

MRS. G. More than _me?_

CAPT. G. Stupid! Of course not; but it's a matter that I'm tremendously interested in, because if I or Jack, or I and Jack, work out some sort of lighter saddlery and all that, it's possible that we may get it adopted.

MRS. G. How?

CAPT. G. Sanctioned at Home, where they will make a sealed pattern--a pattern that all the saddlers must copy--and so it will be used by all the regiments.

MRS. G. And that interests you?

CAPT. G. It's part of my profession, y'know, and my profession is a good deal to me. Everything in a soldier's equipment is important, and if we can improve that equipment, so much the better for the soldiers and for us.

MRS.G. Who's 'us'?

CAPT. G. Jack and I; only Jack's notions are too radical. What's that big sigh for, Minnie?

MRS. G. Oh, nothing--and you've kept all this a secret from me! Why?

CAPT. G. Not a secret, exactly, dear. I didn't say anything about it to you because I didn't think it would amuse you.

MRS. G. And am I only made to be amused?

CAPT. G. No, of course. I merely mean that it couldn't interest you.

MRS. G. It's _your_ work and--and if you'd let me, I'd count all these things up. If they are too heavy, you know by how much they are too heavy, and you must have a list of things made out to your scale of lightness, and--

CAPT. G. I have got both scales somewhere in my head; but it's hard to tell how light you can make a headstall, for instance, until you've actually had a model made.

MRS. G. But if you read out the list, I could copy it down, and pin it up there just above your table. Wouldn't that do?

CAPT. G. It would be awf'ly nice, dear, but it would be giving you trouble for nothing. I can't work that way. I go by rule of thumb. I know the present scale of weights, and the other one--the one that I'm trying to work to--will shift and vary so much that I couldn't be certain, even if I wrote it down.

MRS. G. I'm _so_ sorry. I thought I might help. Is there anything else that I could be of use in?

CAPT. G. (_Looking round the room._) I can't think of anything. You're _always_ helping me, you know.

MRS. G. Am I? How?

CAPT. G. You are you of course, and as long as you're near me--I can't explain exactly, but it's in the air.

MRS. G. And that's why you wanted to send me away?

CAPT. G. That's only when I'm trying to do work--grubby work like this.

MRS. G. Mafflin's better, then, isn't he?

CAPT. G. (_Rashly._) Of course he is. Jack and I have been thinking along the same groove for two or three years about this equipment. It's our hobby, and it may really be useful some day.

MRS. G. (_After a pause._) And that's all that you have away from me?

CAPT. G. It isn't very far away from you now. Take care the oil on that bit doesn't come off on your dress.

MRS. G. I wish--I wish so much that I could really help you. I believe I could--if I left the room. But that's not what I mean.

CAPT. G. (_Aside._) Give me patience! I wish she would go. (_Aloud._) I assure you you can't do anything for me, Minnie, and I must really settle down to this. Where's my pouch?

MRS. G. (_Crossing to writing-table._) Here you are, Bear. What a mess you keep your table in!

CAPT. G. Don't touch it. There's a method in my madness, though you mightn't think of it.

MRS. G. (_At table._) I want to look--Do you keep accounts, Pip?

CAPT. G. (_Bending over saddlery._) Of a sort. Are you rummaging among the Troop papers? Be careful.

MRS. G. Why? I shan't disturb anything. Good gracious! I had no idea that you had anything to do with so many sick horses.

CAPT. G. 'Wish I hadn't, but they insist on falling sick. Minnie, if I were you I really should not investigate those papers. You may come across something that you won't like.

MRS. G. Why will you always treat me like a child? I know I'm not displacing the horrid things.

CAPT. G. (_Resignedly._) Very well, then. Don't blame me if anything happens. Play with the table and let me go on with the saddlery. (_Slipping hand into trousers-pocket._) Oh, the deuce!

MRS. G. (_Her back to_ G.) What's that for?

CAPT. G. Nothing. (_Aside._) There's not much in it, but I wish I'd torn it up.

MRS. G. (_Turning over contents of table._) I know you'll hate me for this; but I do want to see what your work is like. (_A pause._) Pip, what are 'farcy-buds'?

CAPT. G. Hah! Would you really like to know? They aren't pretty things.

MRS. G. This _Journal of Veterinary Science_ says they are of 'absorbing interest.' Tell me.

CAPT. G. (_Aside._) It may turn her attention.

_Gives a long and designedly loathsome account of
glanders and farcy_

MRS. G. Oh, that's enough. Don't go on!

CAPT. G. But you wanted to know--Then these things suppurate and matterate and spread--

MRS. G. Pip, you're making me sick! You're a horrid, disgusting schoolboy.

CAPT. G. (_On his knees among the bridles._) You asked to be told. It's not my fault if you worry me into talking about horrors.

MRS. G. Why didn't you say--No?

CAPT. G. Good Heavens, child! Have you come in here simply to bully me?

MRS. G. I bully _you?_ How could I! You're so strong. (_Hysterically._) Strong enough to pick me up and put me outside the door and leave me there to cry. Aren't you?

CAPT. G. It seems to me that you're an irrational little baby. Are you quite well?

MRS. G. Do I look ill? (_Returning to table._) Who is your lady friend with the big gray envelope and the fat monogram outside?

CAPT. G. (_Aside._) Then it wasn't locked up, confound it. (_Aloud._) 'God made her, therefore let her pass for a woman.' You remember what farcy-buds are like?

MRS. G. (_Showing envelope._) This has nothing to do with _them._ I'm going to open it. May I?

CAPT. G. Certainly, if you want to. I'd sooner you didn't, though. I don't ask to look at your letters to the Deercourt girl.

MRS. G. You'd _better_ not, Sir! (_Takes letter from envelope._) Now, may I look? If you say no, I shall cry.

CAPT. G. You've never cried in my knowledge of you, and I don't believe you could.

MRS. G. I feel very like it to-day, Pip. Don't be hard on me. (_Reads letter._) It begins in the middle, without any 'Dear Captain Gadsby,' or anything. How funny!

CAPT. G. (_Aside._) No, it's not Dear Captain Gadsby, or anything, now. How funny!

MRS. G. What a strange letter! (_Reads._) 'And so the moth has come too near the candle at last, and has been singed into--shall I say Respectability? I congratulate him, and hope he will be as happy as he deserves to be.' What does that mean? Is she congratulating you about our marriage?

CAPT. G. Yes, I suppose so.

MRS. G. (_Still reading letter._) She seems to be a particular friend of yours.

CAPT. G. Yes. She was an excellent matron of sorts--a Mrs. Herriott--wife of a Colonel Herriott. I used to know some of her people at Home long ago--before I came out.

MRS. G. Some Colonels' wives are young--as young as me. I knew one who was younger.

CAPT. G. Then it couldn't have been Mrs. Herriott. She was old enough to have been your mother, dear.

MRS. G. I remember now. Mrs. Scargill was talking about her at the Duffins' tennis, before you came for me, on Tuesday. Captain Mafflin said she was a 'dear old woman.' Do you know, I think Mafflin is a very clumsy man with his feet.

CAPT. G. (_Aside._) Good old Jack! (_Aloud._) Why, dear?

MRS. G. He had put his cup down on the ground then, and he literally stepped into it. Some of the tea spirted over my dress--the gray one. I meant to tell you about it before.

CAPT. G. (_Aside._) There are the makings of a strategist about Jack, though his methods are coarse. (_Aloud._) You'd better get a new dress, then. (_Aside._) Let us pray that that will turn her.

MRS. G. Oh, it isn't stained in the least. I only thought that I'd tell you. (_Returning to letter._) _What_ an extraordinary person! (_Reads._) 'But need I remind you that you have taken upon yourself a charge of wardship'--what in the world is a charge of wardship?--'which, as you yourself know, may end in Consequences--'

CAPT. G. (_Aside._) It's safest to let 'em see everything as they come across it; but 'seems to me that there are exceptions to the rule. (_Aloud._) I told you that there was nothing to be gained from rearranging my table.

MRS. G. (_Absently._) What _does_ the woman mean? She goes on talking about Consequences--'almost inevitable Consequences' with a capital C--for half a page. (_Flushing scarlet._) Oh, good gracious! How abominable!

CAPT. G. (_Promptly._) Do you think so? Doesn't it show a sort of motherly interest in us? (_Aside._) Thank Heaven, Harry always wrapped her meaning up safely! (_Aloud._) Is it absolutely necessary to go on with the letter, darling?

MRS. G. It's impertinent--it's simply horrid. What _right_ has this woman to write in this way to you? She oughtn't to.

CAPT. G. When you write to the Deercourt girl, I notice that you generally fill three or four sheets. Can't you let an old woman babble on paper once in a way? She means well.

MRS. G. I don't care. She shouldn't write, and if she did, you ought to have shown me her letter.

CAPT. G. Can't you understand why I kept it to myself, or must I explain at length--as I explained the farcy-buds?

MRS. G. (_Furiously._) Pip, I _hate_ you! This is as bad as those idiotic saddle-bags on the floor. Never mind whether it would please me or not, you ought to have given it to me to read.

CAPT. G. It comes to the same thing. You took it yourself.

MRS. G. Yes, but if I hadn't taken it, you wouldn't have said a word. I think this Harriet Herriott--it's like a name in a book--is an interfering old Thing.

CAPT. G. (_Aside._) So long as you thoroughly understand that she _is_ old, I don't much care what you think. (_Aloud._) Very good, dear. Would you like to write and tell her so? She's seven thousand miles away.

MRS. G. I don't want to have anything to do with her, but you ought to have told me. (_Turning to last page of letter._) And she patronises _me_, too. _I_'ve never seen her! (_Reads._) 'I do not know how the world stands with you; in all human probability I shall never know; but whatever I may have said before, I pray for _her_ sake more than for yours that all may be well. I have learnt what misery means, and I dare not wish that any one dear to you should share my knowledge.'

CAPT. G. Good God! Can't you leave that letter alone, or, at least, can't you refrain from reading it aloud? I've been through it once. Put it back on the desk. Do you hear me?

MRS. G. (_Irresolutely._) I sh--shan't! (_Looks at_ G'.s _eyes._) Oh, Pip, _please!_ I didn't mean to make you angry--'Deed, I didn't. Pip, I'm so sorry. I know I've wasted your time----

CAPT. G. (_Grimly._) You have. Now, will you be good enough to go--if there is nothing more in my room that you are anxious to pry into?

MRS. G. (_Putting out her hands._) Oh, Pip, don't look at me like that! I've never seen you look like that before and it hu-urts me! I'm sorry. I oughtn't to have been here at all, and--and--and--(_sobbing_). Oh, be good to me! Be good to me! There's only you--anywhere!

_Breaks down in long chair, hiding face in cushions._

CAPT. G. (_Aside._) She doesn't know how she flicked me on the raw. (_Aloud, bending over chair._) I didn't mean to be harsh, dear--I didn't really. You can stay here as long as you please, and do what you please. Don't cry like that. You'll make yourself sick. (_Aside._) What on earth has come over her? (_Aloud._) Darling, what's the matter with you?

MRS. G. (_Her face still hidden._) Let me go--let me go to my own room. Only--only say you aren't angry with me.

CAPT. G. Angry with _you_, love! Of course not. I was angry with myself. I'd lost my temper over the saddlery--Don't hide your face, Pussy. I want to kiss it.

_Bends lower_, MRS. G. _slides right arm round his
neck. Several interludes and much sobbing._

MRS. G. (_In a whisper._) I didn't mean about the jam when I came in to tell you----

CAPT. G. Bother the jam and the equipment! (_Interlude._)

MRS. G. (_Still more faintly._) My finger wasn't scalded at _all_. I--I wanted to speak to you about--about--something else, and--I didn't know how.

CAPT. G. Speak away, then. (_Looking into her eyes._) Eh! Wha--at? Minnie! Here, don't go away! You don't mean?

MRS. G. (_Hysterically, backing to portiere and hiding her face in its folds._) The--the Almost Inevitable Consequences! (_Flits though portiere as_ G. _attempts to catch her, and bolts herself in her own room._)

CAPT. G. (_His arms full of portiere._) Oh! (_Sitting down heavily in chair._) I'm a brute--a pig--a bully, and a blackguard. My poor, poor little darling! 'Made to be amused only--?

THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW

Knowing Good and Evil.

SCENE.--_The_ GADSBYS' _bungalow in the Plains, in June. Punkah-coolies asleep in veranda where_ CAPTAIN GADSBY _is walking up and down._ DOCTOR'S _trap in porch._ JUNIOR CHAPLAIN _drifting generally and uneasily through the house. Time,_ 3.40 A. M. _Heat 94 degrees in veranda._

DOCTOR. (_Coming into veranda and touching_ G. _on the shoulder._) You had better go in and see her now.

CAPT. G. (_The colour of good cigar-ash._) Eh, wha-at? Oh, yes, of course. What did you say?

DOCTOR. (_Syllable by syllable._) Go--in--to--the--room--and--see--her. She wants to speak to you. (_Aside, testily._) I shall have _him_ on my hands next.

JUNIOR CHAPLAIN. (_In half-lighted dining-room._) Isn't there any--?

DOCTOR. (_Savagely._) Hsh, you little fool!

JUNIOR CHAPLAIN. Let me do my work. Gadsby, stop a minute! (_Edges after_ G.)

DOCTOR. Wait till she sends for you at least--_at least_. Man alive, he'll kill you if you go in there! What are you bothering him for?

JUNIOR CHAPLAIN. (_Coming into veranda._) I've given him a stiff brandy-peg. He wants it. You've forgotten him for the last ten hours and--forgotten yourself too.

G. _enters bedroom, which is lit by one night-lamp.
Ayah on the floor pretending to be asleep._

VOICE. (_From the bed._) All down the street--such bonfires! _Ayah_, go and put them out! (_Appealingly._) How can I sleep with an installation of the C.I.E. in my room? No--not C.I.E. Something else. _What_ was it?

CAPT. G. (_Trying to control his voice._) Minnie, I'm here. (_Bending over bed._) Don't you know me, Minnie? It's me--it's Phil--it's your husband.

VOICE. (_Mechanically._) It's me--it's Phil--it's your husband.

CAPT. G. She doesn't know me!--It's your own husband, darling,

VOICE. Your own husband, darling.

AYAH. (_With an inspiration._) _Memsahib_ understanding all _I_ saying.

CAPT. G. Make her understand me then--quick!

AYAH. (_Hand on_ MRS. G's _forehead._) _Memsahib!_ Captain Sahib here.

VOICE. _Salma do._ (_Fretfully._) I know I'm not fit to be seen.

AYAH. (_Aside to_ G.) Say _'marneen'_ same as breakfash.

CAPT. G. Good-morning, little woman. How are we to-day?

VOICE. That's Phil. Poor old Phil. (_Viciously._)
Phil, you fool, I can't see you. Come nearer.

CAPT. G. Minnie! Minnie! It's me--you know me?

VOICE. (_Mockingly._) Of course I do. Who does not know the man who was so cruel to his wife--almost the only one he ever had?

CAPT. G. Yes, dear. Yes--of course, of course. But won't you speak to him? He wants to speak to you so much.

VOICE. They'd never let him in. The Doctor would give _darwaza bund_ even if he were in the house. He'll never come. (_Despairingly._) O Judas! Judas! Judas!

CAPT. G. (_Putting out his arms._) They have let him in, and he always was in the house. Oh, my love--don't you know me?

VOICE. (_In a half chant._) 'And it came to pass at the eleventh hour that this poor soul repented.' It knocked at the gates, but they were shut--tight as a plaster--a great, burning plaster. They had pasted our marriage certificate all across the door, and it was made of red-hot iron--people really ought to be more careful, you know.

CAPT. G. What _am_ I to do? (_Takes her in his arms._) Minnie! speak to me--to Phil.

VOICE. What shall I say? Oh, tell me what to say before it's too late! They are all going away and I can't say anything.

CAPT. G. Say you know me! Only say you know me!

DOCTOR. (_Who has entered quietly._) For pity's sake don't take it too much to heart, Gadsby. It's this way sometimes. They won't recognise. They say all sorts of queer things--don't you _see?_

CAPT. G. All right! All right! Go away now, she'll recognise me; you're bothering her. She _must_--mustn't she?

DOCTOR. She will before--Have I your leave to try--?

CAPT. G. Anything you please, so long as she'll know me. It's only a question of--hours, isn't it?

DOCTOR. (_Professionally._) While there's life there's hope, y'know. But don't build on it.

CAPT. G. I don't. Pull her together if it's possible. (_Aside._) What have I done to deserve this?

DOCTOR. (_Bending over bed._) Now, Mrs. Gadsby! We shall be all right to-morrow. You _must_ take it, or I shan't let Phil see you. It isn't nasty, is it?

VOICE. Medicines! _Always_ more medicines! Can't you leave me alone?

CAPT. G. Oh, leave her in peace, Doc!

DOCTOR. (_Stepping back,--aside._) May I be forgiven if I've done wrong. (_Aloud._) In a few minutes she ought to be sensible; but I daren't tell you to look for anything. It's only--

CAPT. G. What? Go _on_, man.

DOCTOR. (_In a whisper._) Forcing the last rally.

CAPT. G. Then leave us alone.

DOCTOR. Don't mind what she says at first, if you can. They--they--they turn against those they love most sometimes in this.--It's hard, but--

CAPT. G. Am I her husband or are you? Leave us alone for what time we have together.

VOICE. (_Confidentially._) And we were engaged _quite_ suddenly, Emma. I assure you that I never thought of it for a moment; but, oh, my little Me!--I don't know _what_ I should have done if he _hadn't_ proposed.

CAPT. G. She thinks of that Deercourt girl before she thinks of me. (_Aloud._) Minnie!

VOICE. Not from the shops, Mummy dear. You can get the real leaves from Kaintu, and (_laughing weakly_) never mind about the blossoms--Dead white silk is only fit for widows, and I _won't_ wear it. It's as bad as a winding sheet. (_A long pause._)

CAPT. G. I never asked a favour yet. If there is anybody to listen to me, let her know me--even if I die too!

VOICE. (_Very faintly._) Pip, Pip dear.

CAPT. G. I'm here, darling.

VOICE. What has happened? They've been bothering me so with medicines and things, and they wouldn't let you come and see me. I was never ill before. Am I ill now?

CAPT. G. You--you aren't quite well.

VOICE. How funny! Have I been ill long?

CAPT. G. Some days; but you'll be all right in a little time.

VOICE. Do you think so, Pip? I don't feel well and--Oh! what _have_ they done to my hair?

CAPT. G. I d-d-don't know.

VOICE. They've cut it off. What a shame!

CAPT. G. It must have been to make your head cooler.

VOICE. 'Just like a boy's wig. Don't I look horrid?

CAPT. G. Never looked prettier in your life, dear. (_Aside._) How am I to ask her to say good-bye?

VOICE. I don't _feel_ pretty. I feel very ill. My heart won't work. It's nearly dead inside me, and there's a funny feeling in my eyes. Everything seems the same distance--you and the almirah and the table--inside my eyes or miles away. What does it mean, Pip?

CAPT. G. You're a little feverish, Sweetheart--very feverish. (_Breaking down._) My love! my love! How can I let you go?

VOICE. I thought so. Why didn't you tell me that at first?

CAPT. G. What?

VOICE. That I am going to--die.

CAPT. G. But you aren't! You shan't.

AYAH _to punkah-coolie_. (_Stepping into veranda after a glance at the bed._) _Punkah chor do!_ (Stop pulling the punkah.)

VOICE. It's hard, Pip. So very, _very_ hard after one year--just one year. (_Wailing._) And I'm only twenty. Most girls aren't even married at twenty. Can't they do _anything_ to help me? I don't _want_ to die.

CAPT. G. Hush, dear. You won't.

VOICE. What's the use of talking? _Help_ me! You've never failed me yet. Oh, Phil, help me to keep alive. (_Feverishly._) I don't believe you wish me to live. You weren't a bit sorry when that horrid Baby thing died. I wish I'd killed it!

CAPT. G. (_Drawing his hand across his forehead._) It's more than a man's meant to bear--it's not right. (_Aloud._) Minnie, love, I'd die for you if it would help.

VOICE. No more death. There's enough already. Pip, don't _you_ die too.

CAPT. G. I wish I dared.

VOICE. It says: 'Till Death do us part.' Nothing after that--and so it would be no use. It stops at the dying. _Why_ does it stop there? Only such a very short life, too. Pip, I'm sorry we married.

CAPT. G. No! Anything but that, Min!

VOICE. Because you'll forget and I'll forget. Oh, Pip, _don't_ forget! I always loved you, though I was cross sometimes. If I ever did anything that you didn't like, say you forgive me now.

CAPT. G. You never did, darling. On my soul and honour you never did. I haven't a thing to forgive you.

VOICE. I sulked for a whole week about those petunias. (_With a laugh._) What a little wretch I was, and how grieved you were! Forgive me that, Pip.

CAPT. G. There's nothing to forgive. It was my fault. They _were_ too near the drive. For God's sake _don't_ talk so, Minnie! There's such a lot to say and so little time to say it in.

VOICE. Say that you'll always love me--until the end.

CAPT. G. Until the end. (_Carried away._) It's a lie. It _must_ be, because we've loved each other. This isn't the end.

VOICE. (_Relapsing into semi-delirium._) _My_ Church-service has an ivory-cross on the back, and _it_ says so, so it must be true. 'Till Death do us part.'--But that's a lie. (_With a parody of_ G.'s _manner._) A damned lie! (_Recklessly._) Yes, I can swear as well as Trooper Pip. I can't make my head think, though. That's because they cut off my hair. How _can_ one think with one's head all fuzzy? (_Pleadingly._) Hold me, Pip! Keep me with you always and always. (_Relapsing._) But if you marry the Thorniss girl when I'm dead, I'll come back and howl under our bedroom window all night. Oh, bother! You'll think I'm a jackal. Pip, what time is it?

CAPT. G. I--I--I can't help it, dear.

VOICE. How funny! I couldn't cry now to save my life. (G. _shivers._) _I_ want to sing.

CAPT. G. Won't it tire you? Better not, perhaps.

VOICE. Why? I _won't_ be bothered about. (_Begins in a hoarse quaver_):--

'Minnie bakes oaten cake, Minnie brews ale,
All because her Johnnie's coming home from the sea.
(That's parade, Pip.)
And she grows red as rose, who was so pale;
And “Are you sure the church-clock goes?” says she.'

(_Pettishly._) I knew I couldn't take the last note. How do the bass chords run? (_Puts out her hands and begins playing piano on the sheet._)

CAPT. G. (_Catching up hands._) Ahh! Don't do that, Pussy, if you love me.

VOICE. Love you? Of course I do. Who else should it be? (_A pause._)

VOICE. (_Very clearly._) Pip, I'm going now. Something's choking me cruelly. (_Indistinctly._) Into the dark--without you, my heart.--But it's a lie, dear--we mustn't believe it.--For ever and ever, living or dead. Don't let me go, my husband--hold me tight.--They can't--whatever happens. (_A cough._) Pip--_my_ Pip! Not for always--and--so--soon! (_Voice ceases._)

_Pause of ten minutes._ G. _buries his face in the side
of the bed while ayah bends over bed from opposite
side and feels_ MRS. G.'s _breast and forehead._

CAPT. G. (_Rising._) _Doctor Sahib ko salaam do._

AYAH. (_Still by bedside, with a shriek._) Ai! Ai! _Tuta---phuta!_ My _Memsahib!_ Not getting--not have got!--_Pusseena agya!_ (The sweat has come.) (_Fiercely to _G.) TUM _jao Doctor Sahib ko jaldi!_ (_You_ go to the doctor.) _Oh,_ my _Memsahib!_

DOCTOR. (_Entering hastily._) Come away, Gadsby. (_Bends over bed._) Eh! The Dev--What inspired you to stop the punkah? Get out, man--go away--wait outside! _Go!_ Here, Ayah! (_Over his shoulder to_ G.) Mind, I promise nothing.

_The dawn breaks as_ G. _stumbles into the garden._

CAPT. M. (_Reining up at the gate on his way to parade and very soberly._) Old man, how goes?

CAPT. G. (_Dazed._) I don't quite know. Stay a bit. Have a drink or something. Don't run away. You're just getting amusing. Ha! Ha!

CAPT. M. (_Aside._) What _am_ I let in for? Gaddy has aged ten years in the night.

CAPT. G. (_Slowly, fingering charger's headstall._) Your curb's too loose.

CAPT. M. So it is. Put it straight, will you? (_Aside._) I shall be late for parade. Poor Gaddy.

CAPT. G. _links and unlinks curb-chain aimlessly,
and finally stands staring towards the veranda.
The day brightens._

DOCTOR. (_Knocked out of professional gravity, tramping across flower-beds and shaking_ G.'s _hands._) It's--it's--it's!--Gadsby, there's a fair chance--a _dashed_ fair chance! The flicker, y'know. The sweat, y'know! I _saw_ how it would be. The punkah, y'know. Deuced clever woman that Ayah of yours. Stopped the punkah just at the right time. A _dashed_ good chance! No--you don't go in. We'll pull her through yet I promise on my reputation--under Providence. Send a man with this note to Bingle. Two heads better than one. 'Specially the Ayah! _We'll_ pull her round. (_Retreats hastily to house._)

CAPT. G. (_His head on neck of_ M.'s _charger._) _Jack!_ I bub--bub--believe, I'm going to make a bub--bub--bloody exhibitiod of byself.

CAPT. M. (_Sniffing openly and feeling in his left cuff._) I b-b--believe, I'b doing it already. Old bad, what _cad_ I say? I'b as pleased as--Cod _dab_ you, Gaddy! You're one big idiot and I'b adother. (_Pulling himself together._) Sit tight! Here comes the Devil-dodger.

JUNIOR CHAPLAIN. (_Who is not in the Doctor's confidence._) We--we are only men in these things, Gadsby. I know that I can say nothing now to help--

CAPT. M. (_Jealously._) Then don't say it! Leave him alone. It's not bad enough to croak over. Here, Gaddy, take the _chit_ to Bingle and ride hell-for-leather. It'll do you good. I can't go.

JUNIOR CHAPLAIN. Do him good! (_Smiling._) Give me the _chit_ and I'll drive. Let him lie down. Your horse is blocking my cart--_please!_

CAPT. M. (_Slowly without reining back._) I beg your pardon--I'll apologise. On paper if you like.

JUNIOR CHAPLAIN. (_Flicking_ M.'s _charger._) That'll do, thanks. Turn in, Gadsby, and I'll bring Bingle back--ahem--'hell-for-leather.'

CAPT. M. (_Solus._) It would have served me right if he'd cut me across the face. He can drive too. I shouldn't care to go that pace in a bamboo cart. What a faith he must have in his Maker--of harness! Come _hup_, you brute! (_Gallops off to parade, blowing his nose, as the sun rises._)

(INTERVAL OF FIVE WEEKS.)

MRS. G. (_Very white and pinched, in morning wrapper at breakfast table._) How big and strange the room looks, and oh how glad I am to see it again! What dust, though! I must talk to the servants. Sugar, Pip? I've almost forgotten. (_Seriously._) Wasn't I very ill?

CAPT. G. Iller than I liked. (_Tenderly._) Oh, you bad little Pussy, what a start you gave me!

MRS. G. I'll never do it again.

CAPT. G. You'd better not. And now get those poor pale cheeks pink again, or I shall be angry. Don't try to lift the urn. You'll upset it. Wait. (_Comes round to head of table and lifts urn._)

MRS. G. (_Quickly._) _Khitmatgar, bowarchi-khana see kettly lao_. Butler, get a kettle from the cook-house. (_Drawing down_ G.'s _face to her own._) Pip dear, _I_ remember.

CAPT. G. What?

MRS. G. That last terrible night.

CAPT. G. Then just you forget all about it.

MRS. G. (_Softly, her eyes filling._) Never. It has brought us _very_ close together, my husband. There! (_Interlude._) I'm going to give Junda a _saree._

CAPT. G. I gave her fifty dibs.

MRS. G. So she told me. It was a 'normous reward. Was I worth it? (_Several interludes._) Don't! Here's the _khitmatgar_.--Two lumps or one, Sir?

THE SWELLING OF JORDAN

If thou hast run with the footmen and they have wearied thee, then how canst thou contend with horses? And if in the land of peace wherein thou trustedst they wearied thee, then how wilt thou do in the swelling of Jordan?

SCENE.--_The_ GADSEYS' _bungalow in the Plains, on a January morning._ MRS. G. _arguing with bearer in back veranda._

CAPT. M. _rides up._

CAPT. M. 'Mornin', Mrs. Gadsby. How's the Infant Phenomenon and the Proud Proprietor?

MRS. G. You'll find them in the front veranda; go through the house. I'm Martha just now.

CAPT. M. 'Cumbered about with cares of _khitmatgars?_ I fly.

_Passes into front veranda, where_ GADSBY _is watching_
GADSBY JUNIOR, _aged ten months, crawling about the
matting._

CAPT. M. What's the trouble, Gaddy--spoiling an honest man's Europe morning this way? (_Seeing_ G. JUNIOR.) By Jove, that yearling's comin' on amazingly! Any amount of bone below the knee there.

CAPT. G. Yes, he's a healthy little scoundrel. Don't you think his hair's growing?

M. Let's have a look. Hi! Hst! Come here, General Luck, and we'll report on you.

MRS. G. (_Within._) What absurd name will you give him next? Why do you call him that?

M. Isn't he our Inspector-General of Cavalry? Doesn't he come down in his seventy-two perambulator every morning the Pink Hussars parade? Don't wriggle, Brigadier. Give us your private opinion on the way the third squadron went past. 'Trifle ragged, weren't they?

G. A bigger set of tailors than the new draft I don't wish to see. They've given me more than my fair share--knocking the squadron out of shape. It's sickening!

M. When you're in command, you'll do better, young 'un. Can't you walk yet? Get my finger and try. (_To_ G.) 'Twon't hurt his hocks, will it?

G. Oh, no. Don't let him flop, though, or he'll lick all the blacking off your boots.

MRS. G. (_Within._) Who's destroying my son's character?

M. And my Godson's. I'm ashamed of you, Gaddy. Punch your father in the eye, Jack! Don't you stand it! Hit him again!

G. (_Sotto voce._) Put The _Butcha_ down and come to the end of the veranda. I'd rather the Wife didn't hear--just now.

M. You look awf'ly serious. Anything wrong?

G. 'Depends on your view entirely. I say, Jack, you won't think more hardly of me than you can help, will you? Come further this way.--The fact of the matter is, that I've made up my mind--at least I'm thinking seriously of--cutting the Service.

M. Hwhatt?

G. Don't shout. I'm going to send in my papers.

M. You! Are you mad?

G. No--only married.

M. Look here! What's the meaning of it all? You never intend to leave _us_. You _can't_. Isn't the best squadron of the best regiment of the best cavalry in all the world good enough for you?

G. (_Jerking his head over his shoulder_.) She doesn't seem to thrive in this God-forsaken country, and there's The _Butcha_ to be considered and all that, you know.

M. Does she say that she doesn't like India?

G. That's the worst of it. She won't for fear of leaving me.

M. What are the Hills made for?

G. Not for _my_ wife at any rate.

M. You know too much, Gaddy, and--I don't like you any the better for it!

G. Never mind that. She wants England, and The _Butcha_ would be all the better for it. I'm going to chuck. You don't understand.

M. (_Hotly._) I understand _this_. One hundred and thirty-seven new horses to be licked into shape somehow before Luck comes round again; a hairy-heeled draft who'll give more trouble than the horses; a camp next cold weather for a certainty; ourselves the first on the roster; the Russian shindy ready to come to a head at five minutes' notice, and you, the best of us all, backing out of it all! Think a little, Gaddy. You _won't_ do it.

G. Hang it, a man has some duties towards his family, I suppose.

M. I remember a man, though, who told me, the night after Amdheran, when we were picketed under Jagai, and he'd left his sword--by the way, did you ever pay Ranken for that sword?--in an Utmanzai's head--that man told me that he'd stick by me and the Pinks as long as he lived. I don't blame him for not sticking by me--I'm not much of a man--but I _do_ blame him for not sticking by the Pink Hussars.

G. (_Uneasily_.) We were little more than boys then. Can't you see, Jack, how things stand? 'Tisn't as if we were serving for our bread. We've all of us, more or less, got the filthy lucre. I'm luckier than some, perhaps. There's no _call_ for me to serve on.

M. None in the world for you or for us, except the Regimental. If you don't choose to answer to _that_, of course--

G. Don't be too hard on a man. You know that a lot of us only take up the thing for a few years and then go back to Town and catch on with the rest.

M. Not lots, and they aren't some of _Us_.

G. And then there are one's affairs at Home to be considered--my place and the rents, and all that. I don't suppose my father can last much longer, and that means the title, and so on.

M. 'Fraid you won't be entered in the Stud Book correctly unless you go Home? Take six months, then, and come out in October. If I could slay off a brother or two, I s'pose I should be a Marquis of sorts. Any fool can be that; but it needs _men_, Gaddy--men like you--to lead flanking squadrons properly. Don't you delude yourself into the belief that you're going Home to take your place and prance about among pink-nosed Kabuli dowagers. You aren't built that way. I know better.

G. A man has a right to live his life as happily as he can. _You_ aren't married.

M. No--praise be to Providence and the one or two women who have had the good sense to _jawab_ me.

G. Then you don't know what it is to go into your own room and see your wife's head on the pillow, and when everything else is safe and the house shut up for the night, to wonder whether the roof-beams won't give and kill her.

M. (_Aside_.) Revelations first and second! (_Aloud_.) So-o! I knew a man who got squiffy at our Mess once and confided to me that he never helped his wife on to her horse without praying that she'd break her neck before she came back. All husbands aren't alike, you see.

G. What on earth has that to do with my case? The man must ha' been mad, or his wife as bad as they make 'em.