Chapter II: Part 2

There will be the drawn sword between us. (_He indicates the figure of Holroyd, which lies, in effect, as a barrier between them_)

MRS. HOLROYD (_blushing_)

Don't!

BLACKMORE

I'm sorry.

MRS. HOLROYD (_after watching him for a few moments lightly wiping the sleeping man's face with a towel_) I wonder you can be so careful over him.

BLACKMORE (_quietly_)

It's only because he's helpless.

MRS. HOLROYD

But why should you love him ever so little?

BLACKMORE

I don't--only he's helpless. Five minutes since I could have killed him.

MRS. HOLROYD

Well, I don't understand you men.

BLACKMORE

Why?

MRS. HOLROYD

I don't know.

BLACKMORE

I thought as I stood in that doorway, and he was trying to get up--I wished as hard as I've ever wished anything in my life--

MRS. HOLROYD

What?

BLACKMORE

That I'd killed him. I've never wished anything so much in my life--if wishes were anything.

MRS. HOLROYD

Don't, it _does_ sound awful.

BLACKMORE

I _could_ have done it, too. He ought to be dead.

MRS. HOLROYD (_pleading_)

No, don't! You know you don't mean it, and you make me feel so awful.

BLACKMORE

I do mean it. It is simply true, what I say.

MRS. HOLROYD

But don't say it.

BLACKMORE

No?

MRS. HOLROYD

No, we've had enough.

BLACKMORE

Give me the rug.

[_She hands it him, and he tucks Holroyd up._

MRS. HOLROYD

You only do it to play on my feelings.

BLACKMORE (_laughing shortly_)

And now give me a pillow--thanks.

[_There is a pause--both look at the sleeping man._

BLACKMORE

I suppose you're fond of him, really.

MRS. HOLROYD

No more.

BLACKMORE

You _were_ fond of him?

MRS. HOLROYD

I was--yes.

BLACKMORE

What did you like in him?

MRS. HOLROYD (_uneasily_)

I don't know.

BLACKMORE

I suppose you really care about him, even now.

MRS. HOLROYD

Why are you so sure of it?

BLACKMORE

Because I think it is so.

MRS. HOLROYD

I did care for him--now he has destroyed it--

BLACKMORE

I don't believe he can destroy it.

MRS. HOLROYD (_with a short laugh_)

Don't you? When you are married you try. You'll find it isn't so hard.

BLACKMORE

But what did you like in him--because he was good-looking, and strong, and that?

MRS. HOLROYD

I liked that as well. But if a man makes a nuisance of himself, his good looks are ugly to you, and his strength loathsome. Do you think I _care_ about a man because he's got big fists, when he is a coward in his real self?

BLACKMORE

Is he a coward?

MRS. HOLROYD

He _is_--a pettifogging, paltry one.

BLACKMORE

And so you've really done with him?

MRS. HOLROYD

I have.

BLACKMORE

And what are you going to do?

MRS. HOLROYD

I don't know.

BLACKMORE

I suppose nothing. You'll just go on--even if you've done with him--you'll go on with him.

[_There is a long pause._

BLACKMORE

But was there nothing else in him but his muscles and his good looks to attract you to him?

MRS. HOLROYD

Why? What does it matter?

BLACKMORE

What did you _think_ he was?

MRS. HOLROYD

Why must we talk about him?

BLACKMORE

Because I can never quite believe you.

MRS. HOLROYD

I can't help whether you believe it or not.

BLACKMORE

Are you just in a rage with him, because of to-night?

MRS. HOLROYD

I know, to-night finished it. But it was never right between us.

BLACKMORE

Never?

MRS. HOLROYD

Not once. And then to-night--no, it's too much; I can't stand any more of it.

BLACKMORE

I suppose he got tipsy. Then he said he wasn't a married man--vowed he wasn't, to those paper bonnets. They found out he was, and said he was frightened of his wife getting to know. Then he said they should all go to supper at his house--I suppose they came out of mischief.

MRS. HOLROYD

He did it to insult me.

BLACKMORE

Oh, he was a bit tight--you can't say it was deliberate.

MRS. HOLROYD

No, but it shows how he feels toward me. The feeling comes out in drink.

BLACKMORE

How does he feel toward you?

MRS. HOLROYD

He wants to insult me, and humiliate me, in every moment of his life. Now I simply despise him.

BLACKMORE

You really don't care any more about him?

MRS. HOLROYD

No.

BLACKMORE (_hesitates_)

And you would leave him?

MRS. HOLROYD

I would leave him, and not care _that_ about him any more. (_She snaps her fingers_)

BLACKMORE

Will you come with me?

MRS. HOLROYD (_after a reluctant pause_)

Where?

BLACKMORE

To Spain: I can any time have a job there, in a decent part. You could take the children.

[_The figure of the sleeper stirs uneasily--they watch him._

BLACKMORE

Will you?

MRS. HOLROYD

When would you go?

BLACKMORE

To-morrow, if you like.

MRS. HOLROYD

But why do you want to saddle yourself with me and the children?

BLACKMORE

Because I want to.

MRS. HOLROYD

But you don't love me?

BLACKMORE

Why don't I?

MRS. HOLROYD

You don't.

BLACKMORE

I don't know about that. I don't know anything about love. Only I've gone on for a year now, and it's got stronger and stronger--

MRS. HOLROYD

What has?

BLACKMORE

This--this wanting you, to live with me. I took no notice of it for a long time. Now I can't get away from it, at no hour and nohow. (_He still avoids direct contact with her_)

MRS. HOLROYD

But you'd _like_ to get away from it.

BLACKMORE

I hate a mess of any sort. But if you'll come away with me--you and the children--

MRS. HOLROYD

But I couldn't--you don't love me--

BLACKMORE

I don't know what you mean by I don't love you.

MRS. HOLROYD

I can feel it.

BLACKMORE

And do you love _me_? (_A pause_)

MRS. HOLROYD

I don't know. Everything is so--so--

[_There is a long pause._

BLACKMORE

How old are you?

MRS. HOLROYD

Thirty-two.

BLACKMORE

I'm twenty-seven.

MRS. HOLROYD

And have you never been in love?

BLACKMORE

I don't think so. I don't know.

MRS. HOLROYD

But you must know. I must go and shut that door that keeps clicking.

[_She rises to go upstairs, making a clatter at the stair foot door. The noise rouses her husband. As she goes upstairs, he moves, makes coughing sounds, turns over, and then suddenly sits upright, gazing at Blackmore. The latter sits perfectly still on the sofa, his head dropped, hiding his face. His hands are clasped. They remain thus for a minute._

HOLROYD

Hello! (_He stares fixedly_) Hello! (_His tone is undecided, as if he mistrusts himself_) What are--who are ter? (_Blackmore does not move; Holroyd stares blankly; he then turns and looks at the room_) Well, I dunna know.

[_He staggers to his feet, clinging to the table, and goes groping to the stairs. They creak loudly under his weight. A doorlatch is heard to click. In a moment Mrs. Holroyd comes quickly downstairs._

BLACKMORE

Has he gone to bed?

MRS. HOLROYD (_nodding_)

Lying on the bed.

BLACKMORE

Will he settle now?

MRS. HOLROYD

I don't know. He is like that sometimes. He will have delirium tremens if he goes on.

BLACKMORE (_softly_)

You can't stay with him, you know.

MRS. HOLROYD

And the children?

BLACKMORE

We'll take them.

MRS. HOLROYD

Oh!

[_Her face puckers to cry. Suddenly he starts up and puts his arms round her, holding her protectively and gently, very caressingly. She clings to him. They are silent for some moments._

BLACKMORE (_struggling, in an altered voice_)

Look at me and kiss me.

[_Her sobs are heard distinctly. Blackmore lays his hand on her cheek, caressing her always with his hand._

BLACKMORE

My God, but I hate him! I wish either he was dead or me. (_Mrs. Holroyd hides against him; her sobs cease; after a while he continues in the same murmuring fashion_) It can't go on like it any more. I feel as if I should come in two. I can't keep away from you. I simply can't. Come with me. Come with me and leave him. If you knew what a hell it is for me to have you here--and to see him. I can't go without you, I can't. It's been hell every moment for six months now. You say I don't love you. Perhaps I don't, for all I know about it. But oh, my God, don't keep me like it any longer. Why should _he_ have you--and I've never had anything.

MRS. HOLROYD

Have you never loved anybody?

BLACKMORE

No--I've tried. Kiss me of your own wish--will you?

MRS. HOLROYD

I don't know.

BLACKMORE (_after a pause_)

Let's break clear. Let's go right away. Do you care for me?

MRS. HOLROYD

I don't know. (_She loosens herself, rises dumbly_)

BLACKMORE

When do you think you _will_ know?

[_She sits down helplessly._

MRS. HOLROYD

I don't know.

BLACKMORE

Yes, you do know, really. If he was dead, should you marry me?

MRS. HOLROYD

Don't say it--

BLACKMORE

Why not? If wishing of mine would kill him, he'd soon be out of the way.

MRS. HOLROYD

But the children!

BLACKMORE

I'm fond of them. I shall have good money.

MRS. HOLROYD

But he's their father.

BLACKMORE

What does that mean--?

MRS. HOLROYD

Yes, I know--(_a pause_) but--

BLACKMORE

Is it _him_ that keeps you?

MRS. HOLROYD

No.

BLACKMORE

Then come with me. Will you? (_He stands waiting for her; then he turns and takes his overcoat; pulls it on, leaving the collar turned up, ceasing to twist his cap_) Well--will you tell me to-morrow?

[_She goes forward and flings her arms round his neck. He suddenly kisses her passionately._

MRS. HOLROYD

But I ought not. (_She draws away a little; he will not let her go_)

BLACKMORE

Yes, it's all right. (_He holds her close_)

MRS. HOLROYD

Is it?

BLACKMORE

Yes, it is. It's all right.

[_He kisses her again. She releases herself but holds his hand. They keep listening._

MRS. HOLROYD

Do you love me?

BLACKMORE

What do you ask for?

MRS. HOLROYD

Have I hurt you these months?

BLACKMORE

_You_ haven't. And I don't care what it's been if you'll come with me. (_There is a noise upstairs and they wait_) You _will_ soon, won't you?

[_She kisses him._

MRS. HOLROYD

He's not safe. (_She disengages herself and sits on the sofa_)

BLACKMORE (_takes a place beside her, holding her hand in both his_) You should have waited for me.

MRS. HOLROYD

How wait?

BLACKMORE

And not have married him.

MRS. HOLROYD

I might never have known you--I married him to get out of my place.

BLACKMORE

Why?

MRS. HOLROYD

I was left an orphan when I was six. My Uncle John brought me up, in the Coach and Horses at Rainsworth. He'd got no children. He was good to me, but he drank. I went to Mansfield Grammar School. Then he fell out with me because I wouldn't wait in the bar, and I went as nursery governess to Berryman's. And I felt I'd nowhere to go, I belonged to nowhere, and nobody cared about me, and men came after me, and I hated it. So to get out of it, I married the first man that turned up.

BLACKMORE

And you never cared about him?

MRS. HOLROYD

Yes, I did. I did care about him. I wanted to be a wife to him. But there's nothing at the bottom of him, if you know what I mean. You can't _get_ anywhere with him. There's just his body and nothing else. Nothing that keeps him, no anchor, no roots, nothing satisfying. It's a horrible feeling there is about him, that nothing is safe or permanent--nothing is anything--

BLACKMORE

And do you think you can trust _me_?

MRS. HOLROYD

I think you're different from him.

BLACKMORE

Perhaps I'm not.

MRS. HOLROYD (_warmly_)

You are.

BLACKMORE

At any rate, we'll see. You'll come on Saturday to London?

MRS. HOLROYD

Well, you see, there's my money. I haven't got it yet. My uncle has left me about a hundred and twenty pounds.

BLACKMORE

Well, see the lawyer about it as soon as you can. I can let you have some money if you want any. But don't let us wait after Saturday.

MRS. HOLROYD

But isn't it wrong?

BLACKMORE

Why, if you don't care for him, and the children are miserable between the two of you--which they are--

MRS. HOLROYD

Yes.

BLACKMORE

Well, then I see no wrong. As for him--he would go one way, and only one way, whatever you do. Damn him, he doesn't matter.

MRS. HOLROYD

No.

BLACKMORE

Well, then--have done with it. Can't you cut clean of him? Can't you now?

MRS. HOLROYD

And then--the children--

BLACKMORE

They'll be all right with me and you--won't they?

MRS. HOLROYD

Yes--

BLACKMORE

Well, then. Now, come and have done with it. We can't keep on being ripped in two like this. We need never hear of him any more.

MRS. HOLROYD

Yes--I love you. I do love you--

BLACKMORE

Oh, my God! (_He speaks with difficulty--embracing her_)

MRS. HOLROYD

When I look at him, and then at you--ha--(_she gives a short laugh_)

BLACKMORE

He's had all the chance--it's only fair--Lizzie--

MRS. HOLROYD

My love.

[_There is silence. He keeps his arm round her. After hesitating, he picks up his cap._

BLACKMORE

I'll go then--at any rate. Shall you come with me?

[_She follows him to the door._

MRS. HOLROYD

I'll come on Saturday.

BLACKMORE

Not now?

CURTAIN

THE THIRD ACT

_Scene, the same. Time, the following evening, about seven o'clock. The table is half laid, with a large cup and saucer, plate, etc., ready for Holroyd's dinner, which, like all miners, he has when he comes home between four and five o'clock. On the other half of the table Mrs. Holroyd is ironing. On the hearth stands newly baked loaves of bread. The irons hang at the fire._

_Jack, with a bowler hat hanging at the back of his head, parades up to the sofa, on which stands Minnie engaged in dusting a picture. She has a soiled white apron tied behind her, to make a long skirt._

JACK

Good mornin', missis. Any scissors or knives to grind?

MINNIE (_peering down from the sofa_)

Oh, I can't be bothered to come downstairs. Call another day.

JACK

I shan't.

MINNIE (_keeping up her part_)

Well, I can't come down now. (_Jack stands irresolute_) Go on, you have to go and steal the baby.

JACK

I'm not.

MINNIE

Well, you can steal the eggs out of the fowl-house.

JACK

I'm not.

MINNIE

Then I shan't play with you. (_Jack takes off his bowler hat and flings it on the sofa; tears come in Minnie's eyes_) Now I'm _not_ friends. (_She surveys him ruefully; after a few moments of silence she clambers down and goes to her mother_) Mam, he won't play with me.

MRS. HOLROYD (_crossly_)

Why don't you play with her? If you begin bothering, you must go to bed.

JACK

Well, I don't want to play.

MRS. HOLROYD

Then you must go to bed.

JACK

I don't want to.

MRS. HOLROYD

Then what do you want, I should like to know?

MINNIE

I wish my father'd come.

JACK

I do.

MRS. HOLROYD

I suppose he thinks he's paying me out. This is the third time this week he's slunk past the door and gone down to Old Brinsley instead of coming in to his dinner. He'll be as drunk as a lord when he does come.

[_The children look at her plaintively._

MINNIE

Isn't he a nuisance?

JACK

I hate him. I wish he'd drop down th' pit-shaft.

MRS. HOLROYD

Jack!--I never heard such a thing in my life! You mustn't say such things--it's wicked.

JACK

Well, I do.

MRS. HOLROYD (_loudly_)

I won't have it. He's your father, remember.

JACK (_in a high voice_)

Well, he's always comin' home an' shoutin' an' bangin' on the table. (_He is getting tearful and defiant_)

MRS. HOLROYD

Well, you mustn't take any notice of him.

MINNIE (_wistfully_)

'Appen if you said something nice to him, mother, he'd happen go to bed, and not shout.

JACK

I'd hit him in the mouth.

MRS. HOLROYD

Perhaps we'll go to another country, away from him--should we?

JACK

In a ship, mother?

MINNIE

In a ship, mam?

MRS. HOLROYD

Yes, in a big ship, where it's blue sky, and water and palm-trees, and--

MINNIE

An' dates--?

JACK

When should we go?

MRS. HOLROYD

Some day.

MINNIE

But who'd work for us? Who should we have for father?

JACK

You don't want a father. I can go to work for us.

MRS. HOLROYD

I've got a lot of money now, that your uncle left me.

MINNIE (_after a general thoughtful silence_)

An' would my father stop here?

MRS. HOLROYD

Oh, he'd be all right.

MINNIE

But who would he live with?

MRS. HOLROYD

I don't know--one of his paper bonnets, if he likes.

MINNIE

Then she could have her old bracelet back, couldn't she?

MRS. HOLROYD

Yes--there it is on the candlestick, waiting for her.

[_There is a sound of footsteps--then a knock at the door. The children start._

MINNIE (_in relief_)

Here he is.

[_Mrs. Holroyd goes to the door. Blackmore enters._

BLACKMORE

It is foggy to-night--Hello, aren't you youngsters gone to bed?

MINNIE

No, my father's not come home yet.

BLACKMORE (_turning to Mrs. Holroyd_)

Did he go to work then, after last night?

MRS. HOLROYD

I suppose so. His pit things were gone when I got up. I never thought he'd go.

BLACKMORE

And he took his snap as usual?

MRS. HOLROYD

Yes, just as usual. I suppose he's gone to the New Inn. He'd say to himself he'd pay me out. That's what he always does say, "I'll pay thee out for that bit--I'll ma'e thee regret it."

JACK

We're going to leave him.

BLACKMORE

So you think he's at the New Inn?

MRS. HOLROYD

I'm sure he is--and he'll come when he's full. He'll have a bout now, you'll see.

MINNIE

Go and fetch him, Mr. Blackmore.

JACK

My mother says we shall go in a ship and leave him.

BLACKMORE (_after looking keenly at Jack: to Mrs. Holroyd_) Shall I go and see if he's at the New Inn?

MRS. HOLROYD

No--perhaps you'd better not--

BLACKMORE

Oh, he shan't see me. I can easily manage that.

JACK

Fetch him, Mr. Blackmore.

BLACKMORE

All right, Jack. (_To Mrs. Holroyd_) Shall I?

MRS. HOLROYD

We're always pulling on you--But yes, do!

[_Blackmore goes out._

JACK

I wonder how long he'll be.

MRS. HOLROYD

You come and go to bed now: you'd better be out of the way when he comes in.

MINNIE

And you won't say anything to him, mother, will you?

MRS. HOLROYD

What do you mean?

MINNIE

You won't begin of him--row him.

MRS. HOLROYD

Is he to have all his own way? What _would_ he be like, if I didn't row him?

JACK

But it doesn't matter, mother, if we're going to leave him--

MINNIE

But Mr. Blackmore'll come back, won't he, mam, and dad won't shout before him?

MRS. HOLROYD (_beginning to undress the children_)

Yes, he'll come back.

MINNIE

Mam--could I have that bracelet to go to bed with?

MRS. HOLROYD

Come and say your prayers.

[_They kneel, muttering in their mother's apron._

MINNIE (_suddenly lifting her head_)

Can I, mam?

MRS. HOLROYD (_trying to be stern_)

Have you finished your prayers?

MINNIE

Yes.

MRS. HOLROYD

If you want it--beastly thing! (_She reaches the bracelet down from the mantelpiece_) Your father must have put it up there--I don't know where I left it. I suppose he'd think I was proud of it and wanted it for an ornament.

[_Minnie gloats over it. Mrs. Holroyd lights a candle and they go upstairs. After a few moments the outer door opens, and there enters an old woman. She is of middling stature and wears a large gray shawl over her head. After glancing sharply round the room, she advances to the fire, warms herself, then, taking off her shawl, sits in the rocking-chair. As she hears Mrs. Holroyd's footsteps, she folds her hands and puts on a lachrymose expression, turning down the corners of her mouth and arching her eyebrows._

MRS. HOLROYD

Hello, mother, is it you?

GRANDMOTHER

Yes, it's me. Haven't you finished ironing?

MRS. HOLROYD

Not yet.

GRANDMOTHER

You'll have your irons red-hot.

MRS. HOLROYD

Yes, I s'll have to stand them to cool. (_She does so, and moves about at her ironing_)

GRANDMOTHER

And you don't know what's become of Charles?

MRS. HOLROYD

Well, he's not come home from work yet. I supposed he was at the New Inn--Why?

GRANDMOTHER

That young electrician come knocking asking if I knew where he was. "Eh," I said, "I've not set eyes on him for over a week--nor his wife neither, though they pass th' garden gate every time they go out. I know nowt on 'im." I axed him what was the matter, so he said Mrs. Holroyd was anxious because he'd not come home, so I thought I'd better come and see. Is there anything up?

MRS. HOLROYD

No more than I've told you.

GRANDMOTHER

It's a rum 'un, if he's neither in the New Inn nor the Prince o' Wales. I suppose something you've done's set him off.

MRS. HOLROYD

It's nothing I've done.

GRANDMOTHER

Eh, if he's gone off and left you, whativer shall we do! Whativer 'ave you been doing?

MRS. HOLROYD

He brought a couple of bright daisies here last night--two of those trollops from Nottingham--and I said I'd not have it.

GRANDMOTHER (_sighing deeply_)

Ay, you've never been able to agree.

MRS. HOLROYD

We agreed well enough except when he drank like a fish and came home rolling.

GRANDMOTHER (_whining_)

Well, what can you expect of a man as 'as been shut up i' th' pit all day? He must have a bit of relaxation.

MRS. HOLROYD

He can have it different from that, then. At any rate, I'm sick of it.

GRANDMOTHER

Ay, you've a stiff neck, but it'll be bowed by you're my age.

MRS. HOLROYD

Will it? I'd rather it were broke.

GRANDMOTHER

Well--there's no telling what a jealous man will do. (_She shakes her head_)

MRS. HOLROYD

Nay, I think it's my place to be jealous, when he brings a brazen hussy here and sits carryin' on with her.

GRANDMOTHER

He'd no business to do that. But you know, Lizzie, he's got something on _his_ side.

MRS. HOLROYD

What, pray?

GRANDMOTHER

Well, I don't want to make any mischief, but you're my son's wife, an' it's nothing but my duty to tell you. They've been saying a long time now as that young electrician is here a bit too often.

MRS. HOLROYD

He doesn't come for my asking.

GRANDMOTHER

No, I don't suppose he wants for asking. But Charlie's not the man to put up with that sort o' work.

MRS. HOLROYD

Charlie put up with it! If he's anything to say, why doesn't he say it, without going to other folks ...?

GRANDMOTHER

Charlie's never been near me with a word--nor 'as he said a word elsewhere to my knowledge. For all that, this is going to end with trouble.

MRS. HOLROYD

In this hole, every gossiping creature thinks she's got the right to cackle about you--sickening! And a parcel of lies.

GRANDMOTHER

Well, Lizzie, I've never said anything against you. Charlie's been a handful of trouble. He made my heart ache once or twice afore you had him, and he's made it ache many, many's the time since. But it's not all on his side, you know.

MRS. HOLROYD (_hotly_)

No, I don't know.

GRANDMOTHER

You thought yourself above him, Lizzie, an' you know he's not the man to stand it.

MRS. HOLROYD

No, he's run away from it.

GRANDMOTHER (_venomously_)

And what man wouldn't leave a woman that allowed him to live on sufferance in the house with her, when he was bringing the money home?

MRS. HOLROYD

"Sufferance!"--Yes, there's been a lot of letting him live on "sufferance" in the house with me. It is _I_ who have lived on sufferance, for his service and pleasure. No, what he wanted was the drink and the public house company, and because he couldn't get them here, he went out for them. That's all.

GRANDMOTHER

You have always been very clever at hitting things off, Lizzie. I was always sorry my youngest son married a clever woman. He only wanted a bit of coaxing and managing, and you clever women won't do it.

MRS. HOLROYD

He wanted a slave, not a wife.

GRANDMOTHER

It's a pity your stomach wasn't too high for him, before you had him. But no, you could have eaten him ravishing at one time.

MRS. HOLROYD

It's a pity you didn't tell me what he was before I had him. But no, he was all angel. You left me to find out what he really was.

GRANDMOTHER

Some women could have lived with him happy enough. An' a fat lot you'd have thanked me for my telling.

[_There is a knock at the door. Mrs. Holroyd opens._

RIGLEY

They tell me, missus, as your mester's not hoom yet.

MRS. HOLROYD

No--who is it?

GRANDMOTHER

Ask him to step inside. Don't stan' there lettin' the fog in.

[_Rigley steps in. He is a tall, bony, very roughly hewn collier._

RIGLEY

Good evenin'.

GRANDMOTHER

Oh, is it you, Mr. Rigley? (_In a querulous, spiteful tone to Mrs. Holroyd_) He butties along with Charlie.

MRS. HOLROYD

Oh!

RIGLEY

An' han yer seen nowt on 'im?

MRS. HOLROYD

No--was he all right at work?

RIGLEY

Well, 'e wor nowt to mention. A bit short, like: 'adna much to say. I canna ma'e out what 'e's done wi' 'issen. (_He is manifestly uneasy, does not look at the two women_)

GRANDMOTHER

An' did 'e come up i' th' same bantle wi' you?

RIGLEY

No--'e didna. As Ah was comin' out o' th' stall, Ah shouted, "Art comin', Charlie? We're a' off." An' 'e said, "Ah'm comin' in a minute." 'E wor just finishin' a stint, like, an' 'e wanted ter get it set. An' 'e'd been a bit roughish in 'is temper, like, so I thöwt 'e didna want ter walk to th' bottom wi' us....

GRANDMOTHER (_wailing_)

An' what's 'e gone an' done to himself?

RIGLEY

Nay, missis, yo munna ax me that. 'E's non done owt as Ah know on. On'y I wor thinkin', 'appen summat 'ad 'appened to 'im, like, seein' as nob'dy had any knowings of 'im comin' up.

MRS. HOLROYD

What is the matter, Mr. Rigley? Tell us it out.

RIGLEY

I canna do that, missis. It seems as if 'e niver come up th' pit--as far as we can make out. 'Appen a bit o' stuff's fell an' pinned 'im.

GRANDMOTHER (_wailing_)

An' 'ave you left 'im lying down there in the pit, poor thing?

RIGLEY (_uneasily_)

I couldna say for certain where 'e is.

MRS. HOLROYD (_agitated_)

Oh, it's very likely not very bad, mother! Don't let us run to meet trouble.

RIGLEY

We 'ave to 'ope for th' best, missis, all on us.

GRANDMOTHER (_wailing_)

Eh, they'll bring 'im 'ome, I know they will, smashed up an' broke! An' one of my sons they've burned down pit till the flesh dropped off 'im, an' one was shot till 'is shoulder was all of a mosh, an' they brought 'em 'ome to me. An' now there's this....

MRS. HOLROYD (_shuddering_)

Oh, don't, mother. (_Appealingly to Rigley_) You don't know that he's hurt?

RIGLEY (_shaking his head_)

I canna tell you.

MRS. HOLROYD (_in a high hysterical voice_)

Then what is it?

RIGLEY (_very uneasy_)

I canna tell you. But yon young electrician--Mr. Blackmore--'e rung down to the night deputy, an' it seems as though there's been a fall or summat....

GRANDMOTHER

Eh, Lizzie, you parted from him in anger. You little knowed how you'd meet him again.

RIGLEY (_making an effort_)

Well, I'd 'appen best be goin' to see what's betide. (_He goes out_)

GRANDMOTHER

I'm sure I've had my share of bad luck, I have. I'm sure I've brought up five lads in the pit, through accidents and troubles, and now there's this. The Lord has treated me very hard, very hard. It's a blessing, Lizzie, as you've got a bit of money, else what would 'ave become of the children?

MRS. HOLROYD

Well, if he's badly hurt, there'll be the Union-pay, and sick-pay--we shall manage. And perhaps it's not very much.

GRANDMOTHER

There's no knowin' but what they'll be carryin' him to die i' th' hospital.

MRS. HOLROYD

Oh, don't say so, mother--it won't be so bad, you'll see.

GRANDMOTHER

How much money have you, Lizzie, comin'?

MRS. HOLROYD

I don't know--not much over a hundred pounds.

GRANDMOTHER (_shaking her head_)

An' what's that, what's that?

MRS. HOLROYD (_sharply_)

Hush!

GRANDMOTHER (_crying_)

Why, what?

[_Mrs. Holroyd opens the door. In the silence can be heard the pulsing of the fan engine, then the driving engine chuffs rapidly: there is a shirr of brakes on the rope as it descends._

MRS. HOLROYD

That's twice they've sent the chair down--I wish we could see.... Hark!

GRANDMOTHER

What is it?

MRS. HOLROYD

Yes--it's stopped at the gate. It's the doctor's.

GRANDMOTHER (_coming to the door_)

What, Lizzie?

MRS. HOLROYD

The doctor's motor. (_She listens acutely_) Dare you stop here, mother, while I run up to the top an' see?

GRANDMOTHER

You'd better not go, Lizzie, you'd better not. A woman's best away.

MRS. HOLROYD

It is unbearable to wait.

GRANDMOTHER

Come in an' shut the door--it's a cold that gets in your bones. (_She goes in_)

MRS. HOLROYD

Perhaps while he's in bed we shall have time to change him. It's an ill wind brings no good. He'll happen be a better man.

GRANDMOTHER

Well, you can but try. Many a woman's thought the same.

MRS. HOLROYD

Oh, dear, I wish somebody would come. He's never been hurt since we were married.

GRANDMOTHER

No, he's never had a bad accident, all the years he's been in the pit. He's been luckier than most. But everybody has it, sooner or later.

MRS. HOLROYD (_shivering_)

It _is_ a horrid night.

GRANDMOTHER (_querulous_)

Yes, come your ways in.

MRS. HOLROYD

Hark!

[_There is a quick sound of footsteps. Blackmore comes into the light of the doorway._

BLACKMORE

They're bringing him.

MRS. HOLROYD (_quickly putting her hand over her breast_) What is it?

BLACKMORE

You can't tell anything's the matter with him--it's not marked him at all.

MRS. HOLROYD

Oh, what a blessing! And is it much?

BLACKMORE

Well--

MRS. HOLROYD

What is it?

BLACKMORE

It's the worst.

GRANDMOTHER

Who is it?--What does he say?

[_Mrs. Holroyd sinks on the nearest chair with a horrified expression. Blackmore pulls himself together and enters. He is very pale._

BLACKMORE

I came to tell you they're bringing him home.

GRANDMOTHER

And you said it wasn't very bad, did you?

BLACKMORE

No--I said it was--as bad as it could be.

MRS. HOLROYD (_rising and crossing to her mother-in-law, flings her arms round her; in a high voice_) Oh, mother, what shall we do? What shall we do?

GRANDMOTHER

You don't mean to say he's dead?

BLACKMORE

Yes.

GRANDMOTHER (_staring_)

God help us, and how was it?

BLACKMORE

Some stuff fell.

GRANDMOTHER (_rocking herself and her daughter-in-law--both weeping_) Oh, God have mercy on us! Oh, God have mercy on us! Some stuff fell on him. An' he'd not even time to cry for mercy; oh, God spare him! Oh, what shall we do for comfort? To be taken straight out of his sins. Oh, Lizzie, to think he should be cut off in his wickedness! He's been a bad lad of late, he has, poor lamb. He's gone very wrong of late years, poor dear lamb, very wrong. Oh, Lizzie, think what's to become of him now! If only you'd have tried to be different with him.

MRS. HOLROYD (_moaning_)

Don't, mother, don't. I can't bear it.

BLACKMORE (_cold and clear_)

Where will you have him laid? The men will be here in a moment.

MRS. HOLROYD (_starting up_)

They can carry him up to bed--

BLACKMORE

It's no good taking him upstairs. You'll have to wash him and lay him out.

MRS. HOLROYD (_startled_)

Well--

BLACKMORE

He's in his pit-dirt.

GRANDMOTHER

He is, bless him. We'd better have him down here, Lizzie, where we can handle him.

MRS. HOLROYD

Yes.

[_She begins to put the tea things away, but drops the sugar out of the basin and the lumps fly broadcast._

BLACKMORE

Never mind, I'll pick those up. You put the children's clothes away.

[_Mrs. Holroyd stares witless around. The Grandmother sits rocking herself and weeping. Blackmore clears the table, putting the pots in the scullery. He folds the white tablecloth and pulls back the table. The door opens. Mrs. Holroyd utters a cry. Rigley enters._

RIGLEY

They're bringing him now, missis.

MRS. HOLROYD

Oh!

RIGLEY (_simply_)

There must ha' been a fall directly after we left him.

MRS. HOLROYD (_frowning, horrified_)

No--no!

RIGLEY (_to Blackmore_)

It fell a' back of him, an' shut 'im in as you might shut a loaf i' th' oven. It never touched him.

MRS. HOLROYD (_staring distractedly_)

Well, then--

RIGLEY

You see, it come on 'im as close as a trap on a mouse, an' gen him no air, an' what wi' th' gas, it smothered him. An' it wouldna be so very long about it neither.

MRS. HOLROYD (_quiet with horror_)

Oh!

GRANDMOTHER

Eh, dear--dear. Eh, dear--dear.

RIGLEY (_looking hard at her_)

I wasna to know what 'ud happen.

GRANDMOTHER (_not heeding him, but weeping all the time_) But the Lord gave him time to repent. He'd have a few minutes to repent. Ay, I hope he did, I hope he did, else what was to become of him. The Lord cut him off in his sins, but He gave him time to repent.

[_Rigley looks away at the wall. Blackmore has made a space in the middle of the floor._

BLACKMORE

If you'll take the rocking-chair off the end of the rug, Mrs. Holroyd, I can pull it back a bit from the fire, and we can lay him on that.

GRANDMOTHER (_petulantly_)

What's the good of messing about--(_She moves_)

MRS. HOLROYD

It suffocated him?

RIGLEY (_shaking his head, briefly_)

Yes. 'Appen th' after-damp--

BLACKMORE

He'd be dead in a few minutes.

MRS. HOLROYD

No--oh, think!

BLACKMORE

You mustn't think.

RIGLEY (_suddenly_)

They commin'!

[_Mrs. Holroyd stands at bay. The Grandmother half rises. Rigley and Blackmore efface themselves as much as possible. A man backs into the room, bearing the feet of the dead man, which are shod in great pit boots. As the head bearer comes awkwardly past the table, the coat with which the body is covered slips off, revealing Holroyd in his pit-dirt, naked to the waist._

MANAGER (_a little stout, white-bearded man_)

Mind now, mind. Ay, missis, what a job, indeed, it is! (_Sharply_) Where mun they put him?

MRS. HOLROYD (_turning her face aside from the corpse_)

Lay him on the rug.

MANAGER

Steady now, do it steady.

SECOND BEARER (_rising and pressing back his shoulders_) By Guy, but 'e 'ings heavy.

MANAGER

Yi, Joe, I'll back my life o' that.

GRANDMOTHER

Eh, Mr. Chambers, what's this affliction on my old age. You kept your sons out o' the pit, but all mine's in. And to think of the trouble I've had--to think o' the trouble that's come out of Brinsley pit to me.

MANAGER

It has that, it 'as that, missis. You seem to have had more 'n your share; I'll admit it, you have.

MRS. HOLROYD (_who has been staring at the men_)

It is too much!

[_Blackmore frowns; Rigley glowers at her._

MANAGER

You never knowed such a thing in your life. Here's a man, holin' a stint, just finishin' (_He puts himself as if in the holer's position, gesticulating freely_) An' a lot o' stuff falls behind him, clean as a whistle, shuts him up safe as a worm in a nut and niver touches him--niver knowed such a thing in your life.

MRS. HOLROYD

Ugh!

MANAGER

It niver hurt him--niver touched him.

MRS. HOLROYD

Yes, but--but how long would he _be_ (_she makes a sweeping gesture; the Manager looks at her and will not help her out_)--how long would it take--oh--to--to kill him?

MANAGER

Nay, I canna tell ye. 'E didna seem to ha' strived much to get out--did he, Joe?

SECOND BEARER

No, not as far as Ah 'n seen.

FIRST BEARER

You look at 'is 'ands, you'll see then. 'E'd non ha'e room to swing the pick.

[_The Manager goes on his knees._

MRS. HOLROYD (_shuddering_)

Oh, don't!

MANAGER

Ay, th' nails is broken a bit--

MRS. HOLROYD (_clenching her fists_)

Don't!

MANAGER

'E'd be sure ter ma'e a bit of a fight. But th' gas 'ud soon get hold on 'im. Ay, it's an awful thing to think of, it is indeed.

MRS. HOLROYD (_her voice breaking_)

I can't bear it!

MANAGER

Eh, dear, we none on us know what's comin' next.

MRS. HOLROYD (_getting hysterical_)

Oh, it's too awful, it's too awful!

BLACKMORE

You'll disturb the children.

GRANDMOTHER

And you don't want _them_ down here.

MANAGER

'E'd no business to ha' been left, you know.

RIGLEY

An' what man, dost think, wor goin' to sit him down on his hams an' wait for a chap as wouldna say "thank yer" for his cump'ny? 'E'd bin ready to fall out wi' a flicker o' the candle, so who dost think wor goin' ter stop when we knowed 'e on'y kep on so's to get shut on us.

MANAGER

Tha'rt quite right, Bill, quite right. But theer you are.

RIGLEY

An' if we'd stopped, what good would it ha' done--

MANAGER

No, 'appen not, 'appen not.

RIGLEY

For, not known--

MANAGER

I'm sayin' nowt agen thee, neither one road nor t'other. (_There is general silence--then, to Mrs. Holroyd_) I should think th' inquest'll be at th' New Inn to-morrow, missis. I'll let you know.

MRS. HOLROYD

Will there have to be an inquest?

MANAGER

Yes--there'll have to be an inquest. Shall you want anybody in, to stop with you to-night?

MRS. HOLROYD

No.

MANAGER

Well, then, we'd best be goin'. I'll send my missis down first thing in the morning. It's a bad job, a bad job, it is. You'll be a' right then?

MRS. HOLROYD

Yes.

MANAGER

Well, good-night then--good-night all.

ALL

Good-night. Good-night.

[_The Manager, followed by the two bearers, goes out, closing the door._

RIGLEY

It's like this, missis. I never should ha' gone, if he hadn't wanted us to.

MRS. HOLROYD

Yes, I know.

RIGLEY

'E wanted to come up by's sen.

MRS. HOLROYD (_wearily_)

I know how it was, Mr. Rigley.

RIGLEY

Yes--

BLACKMORE

Nobody could foresee.

RIGLEY (_shaking his head_)

No. If there's owt, missis, as you want--

MRS. HOLROYD

Yes--I think there isn't anything.

RIGLEY (_after a moment_)

Well--good-night--we've worked i' the same stall ower four years now--

MRS. HOLROYD

Yes.

RIGLEY

Well, good-night, missis.

MRS. HOLROYD AND BLACKMORE

Good-night.

[_The Grandmother all this time has been rocking herself to and fro, moaning and murmuring beside the dead man. When Rigley has gone Mrs. Holroyd stands staring distractedly before her. She has not yet looked at her husband._

GRANDMOTHER

Have you got the things ready, Lizzie?

MRS. HOLROYD

What things?

GRANDMOTHER

To lay the child out.

MRS. HOLROYD (_she shudders_)

No--what?

GRANDMOTHER

Haven't you put him by a pair o' white stockings, nor a white shirt?

MRS. HOLROYD

He's got a white cricketing shirt--but not white stockings.

GRANDMOTHER

Then he'll have to have his father's. Let me look at the shirt, Lizzie. (_Mrs. Holroyd takes one from the dresser drawer_) This'll never do--a cold, canvas thing wi' a turn down collar. I s'll 'ave to fetch his father's. (_Suddenly_) You don't want no other woman to touch him, to wash him and lay him out, do you?

MRS. HOLROYD (_weeping_)

No.

GRANDMOTHER

Then I'll fetch him his father's gear. We mustn't let him set, he'll be that heavy, bless him. (_She takes her shawl_) I shan't be more than a few minutes, an' the young fellow can stop here till I come back.

BLACKMORE

Can't I go for you, Mrs. Holroyd?

GRANDMOTHER

No. _You_ couldn't find the things. We'll wash him as soon as I get back, Lizzie.

MRS. HOLROYD

All right.

[_She watches her mother-in-law go out. Then she starts, goes in the scullery for a bowl, in which she pours warm water. She takes a flannel and soap and towel. She stands, afraid to go any farther._

BLACKMORE

Well!

MRS. HOLROYD

This is a judgment on us.

BLACKMORE

Why?

MRS. HOLROYD

On me, it is--

BLACKMORE

How?

MRS. HOLROYD

It is.

[_Blackmore shakes his head._

MRS. HOLROYD

Yesterday you talked of murdering him.

BLACKMORE

Well!

MRS. HOLROYD

Now we've done it.

BLACKMORE

How?

MRS. HOLROYD

He'd have come up with the others, if he hadn't felt--felt me murdering him.

BLACKMORE

But we can't help it.

MRS. HOLROYD

It's my fault.

BLACKMORE

Don't be like that!

MRS. HOLROYD (_looking at him--then indicating her husband_) I daren't see him.

BLACKMORE

No?

MRS. HOLROYD

I've killed him, that is all.

BLACKMORE

No, you haven't.

MRS. HOLROYD

Yes, I have.

BLACKMORE

_We_ couldn't help it.

MRS. HOLROYD

If he hadn't felt, if he hadn't _known_, he wouldn't have stayed, he'd have come up with the rest.

BLACKMORE

Well, and even if it was so, we can't help it now.

MRS. HOLROYD

But we've killed him.

BLACKMORE

Ah, I'm tired--

MRS. HOLROYD

Yes.

BLACKMORE (_after a pause_)

Shall I stay?

MRS. HOLROYD

I--I daren't be alone with him.

BLACKMORE (_sitting down_)

No.

MRS. HOLROYD

I don't love him. Now he's dead. I don't love him. He lies like he did yesterday.

BLACKMORE

I suppose, being dead--I don't know--

MRS. HOLROYD

I think you'd better go.

BLACKMORE (_rising_)

Tell me.

MRS. HOLROYD

Yes.

BLACKMORE

You want me to go.

MRS. HOLROYD

No--but _do_ go. (_They look at each other_)

BLACKMORE

I shall come to-morrow (_he goes out_)

[_Mrs. Holroyd stands very stiff, as if afraid of the dead man. Then she stoops down and begins to sponge his face, talking to him._

MRS. HOLROYD

My dear, my dear--oh, my dear! I can't bear it, my dear--you shouldn't have done it. You shouldn't have done it. Oh--I can't bear it, for you. Why couldn't I do anything for you? The children's father--my dear--I wasn't good to you. But you shouldn't have done this to me. Oh, dear, oh, dear! Did it hurt you?--oh, my dear, it hurt you--oh, I can't bear it. No, things aren't fair--we went wrong, my dear. I never loved you enough--I never did. What a shame for you! It was a shame. But you didn't--you didn't try. I _would_ have loved you--I tried hard. What a shame for you! It was so cruel for you. You couldn't help it--my dear, my dear. You couldn't help it. And I can't do anything for you, and it hurt you so! (_She weeps bitterly, so her tears fall on the dead man's face; suddenly she kisses him_) My dear, my dear, what can I do for you, what can I? (_She weeps as she wipes his face gently_)

GRANDMOTHER (_enters, puts a bundle on the table, takes off her shawl_) You're not all by yourself?

MRS. HOLROYD

Yes.

GRANDMOTHER

It's a wonder you're not frightened. You've not washed his face.

MRS. HOLROYD

Why should I be afraid of him--now, mother?

GRANDMOTHER (_weeping_)

Ay, poor lamb, I can't think as ever you could have had reason to be frightened of him, Lizzie.

MRS. HOLROYD

Yes--once--

GRANDMOTHER

Oh, but he went wrong. An' he was a taking lad, as iver was. (_She cries pitifully_) And when I waked his father up and told him, he sat up in bed staring over his whiskers, and said should he come up? But when I'd managed to find the shirt and things, he was still in bed. You don't know what it is to live with a man that has no feeling. But you've washed him, Lizzie?

MRS. HOLROYD

I was finishing his head.

GRANDMOTHER

Let me do it, child.

MRS. HOLROYD

I'll finish that.

GRANDMOTHER

Poor lamb--poor dear lamb! Yet I wouldn't wish him back, Lizzie. He must ha' died peaceful, Lizzie. He seems to be smiling. He always had such a rare smile on him--not that he's smiled much of late--

MRS. HOLROYD

I loved him for that.

GRANDMOTHER

Ay--my poor child--my poor child.

MRS. HOLROYD

He looks nice, mother.

GRANDMOTHER

I hope he made his peace with the Lord.

MRS. HOLROYD

Yes.

GRANDMOTHER

If he hadn't time to make his peace with the Lord, I've no hopes of him. Dear o' me, dear o' me. Is there another bit of flannel anywhere?

[_Mrs. Holroyd rises and brings a piece. The Grandmother begins to wash the breast of the dead man._

GRANDMOTHER

Well, I hope you'll be true to his children at least, Lizzie. (_Mrs. Holroyd weeps--the old woman continues her washing_) Eh--and he's fair as a lily. Did you ever see a man with a whiter skin--and flesh as fine as the driven snow. He's beautiful, he is, the lamb. Many's the time I've looked at him, and I've felt proud of him, I have. And now he lies here. And such arms on 'im! Look at the vaccination marks, Lizzie. When I took him to be vaccinated, he had a little pink bonnet with a feather. (_Weeps_) Don't cry, my girl, don't. Sit up an' wash him a' that side, or we s'll never have him done. Oh, Lizzie!

MRS. HOLROYD (_sitting up, startled_)

What--what?

GRANDMOTHER

Look at his poor hand!

[_She holds up the right hand. The nails are bloody._

MRS. HOLROYD

Oh, no! Oh, no! No!

[_Both women weep._

GRANDMOTHER (_after awhile_)

We maun get on, Lizzie.

MRS. HOLROYD (_sitting up_)

I can't touch his hands.

GRANDMOTHER

But I'm his mother--there's nothing I couldn't do for him.

MRS. HOLROYD

I don't care--I don't care.

GRANDMOTHER

Prithee, prithee, Lizzie, I don't want thee goin' off, Lizzie.

MRS. HOLROYD (_moaning_)

Oh, what shall I do!

GRANDMOTHER

Why, go thee an' get his feet washed. He's setting stiff, and how shall we get him laid out?

[_Mrs. Holroyd, sobbing, goes, kneels at the miner's feet, and begins pulling off the great boots._

GRANDMOTHER

There's hardly a mark on him. Eh, what a man he is! I've had some fine sons, Lizzie, I've had some big men of sons.

MRS. HOLROYD

He was always a lot whiter than me. And he used to chaff me.

GRANDMOTHER

But his poor hands! I used to thank God for my children, but they're rods o' trouble, Lizzie, they are. Unfasten his belt, child. Me mun get his things off soon, or else we s'll have such a job.

[_Mrs. Holroyd, having dragged off the boots, rises. She is weeping._

CURTAIN

A SELECTION FROM
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By Charles G. D. Roberts, Professor of Literature, Toronto
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With many illustrations by Charles Livingston Bull.

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GIOTTO. By Basil de Selincourt. With 44 plates.
FRENCH PAINTING IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. By L. Dimier.
With 50 plates.
THE SCHOOL OF FERRARA. By Edmond G. Gardner. With 50
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CONSTABLE. By M. Sturge Henderson. With 48 plates.
PISANELLO. By G. F. Hill. With 50 plates.
MICHAEL ANGELO. By Sir Charles Holroyd. With 52 plates.
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THE SCHOOL OF SEVILLE. By N. Sentenach. With 50 plates.
ROMAN SCULPTURE FROM AUGUSTUS TO CONSTANTINE. By Mrs
S. Arthur Strong, LL.D., Editor of the Series. 2 vols. With 130
plates.

ART, THE POPULAR LIBRARY OF. Pocket volumes of
biographical and critical value on the great painters, with very
many reproductions of the artists' works. Each volume averages
200 pages, 16mo, with from 40 to 50 illustrations. To be had in
different styles of binding: _Boards gilt, 1s. net; green canvas
and red cloth gilt, 2s. net; limp lambskin, red and green, 2s.
6d. net._ Several titles can also be had in the popular Persian
yapp binding, in box, _2s. 6d. net each_.

LIST OF VOLUMES.

BOTTICELLI. By Julia Cartwright (Mrs Ady). Also in
Persian yapp binding.
RAPHAEL. By Julia Cartwright (Mrs Ady). Also in Persian
yapp binding.
FREDERICK WALKER. By Clementina Black.
REMBRANDT. By Auguste Bréal.
VELAZQUEZ. By Auguste Bréal. Also in Persian yapp
binding.
GAINSBOROUGH. By Arthur B. Chamberlain. Also in Persian
yapp binding.
CRUIKSHANK. By W. H. Chesson.
BLAKE. By G. K. Chesterton.
G. F. WATTS. By G. K. Chesterton. Also in Persian yapp
binding.
ALBRECHT DÜRER. By Lina Eckenstein.
THE ENGLISH WATER-COLOUR PAINTERS. By A. J. Finberg.
Also in Persian yapp binding.
HOGARTH. By Edward Garnett.
LEONARDO DA VINCI. By Dr Georg Gronau. Also in Persian
yapp binding.
HOLBEIN. By Ford Madox Hueffer.
ROSSETTI. By Ford Madox Hueffer. Also in Persian yapp
binding.
THE PRE-RAPHAELITE BROTHERHOOD. By Ford Madox Hueffer.
Also in Persian yapp binding.
PERUGINO. By Edward Hutton.
MILLET. By Romain Rolland. Also in Persian yapp binding.
WATTRAU. By Camille Mauclair.
THE FRENCH IMPRESSIONISTS. By Camille Mauclair. Also in
Persian yapp binding.
WHISTLER. By Bernhard Sickert. Also in Persian yapp
binding.

AMELUNG, WALTHER, AND HOLTZINGER, HEINRICH. The Museums
and Ruins of Rome. A Guide Book. Edited by Mrs S. Arthur Strong,
LL.D. With 264 illustrations and map and plans. 2 vols. New and
cheaper re-issue. _Fcap. 8vo. 5s. net._

BURNS, REV. J. Sermons in Art by the Great Masters.
_Cloth gilt_, photogravure frontispiece and many illustrations.
_Cr. 8vo. 6s._ Or bound in parchment, _5s. net_.

---- The Christ Face in Art. With 60 illustrations in tint. _Cr.
8vo, cloth gilt. 6s._ Or bound in parchment, _5s. net_.

BUSSY, DOROTHY. Eugène Delacroix. A Critical
Appreciation. With 26 illustrations. New and cheaper re-issue.
_Cr. 8vo. 2s. 6d. net_.

CAROTTI, GIULIO. A History of Art. English edition,
edited by Mrs S. Arthur Strong, LL.D. In four volumes, with very
numerous illustrations in each volume. _Small cr. 8vo. 5s. net
each volume._

VOL. I.--ANCIENT ART. 500 illustrations.
VOL. II.--MIDDLE AGES DOWN TO THE GOLDEN AGE.

LÖWY, EMANUEL. The Rendering of Nature in Early Greek
Art. With 30 illustrations. _Cr. 8vo. 5s. net._

MAUCLAIR, CAMILLE. Auguste Rodin. With very many
illustrations and photogravure frontispiece. _Small 4to._ New
and cheaper re-issue. _7s. 6d. net._

_See also Popular Library of Art for other books by Camille
Mauclair._

QUIGLEY, J. Leandro Ramon Garrido: his Life and Art.
With 26 illustrations. _Sq. cr. 8vo. 5s. net._

GENERAL LITERATURE.

ARCHER, WILLIAM, and BARKER, H. GRANVILLE. A
National Theatre. Schemes and Estimates. By William Archer and
H. Granville Barker. _Cr. 4to. 5s. net._

ASPINALL, ALGERNON E. The Pocket Guide to the West
Indies. A New and Revised Edition, with maps, very fully
illustrated. _Fcap. 8vo. 5s. net._

---- West Indian Tales of Old. Illustrated. _Cr. 8vo. 5s. net._

AUSTIN, SARAH. The Story without an End. From the
German of Carové. Illustrated by Frank C. Papé. 8 Illustrations
in Colour. _Large cr. 8vo. Designed end papers. Cloth gilt, gilt
top. In box. 5s. net._

-------- Illustrated by Paul Henry. _8vo. 1s. 6d. net._

BELLOC, HILAIRE. Verses. _Large cr. 8vo._ 2nd edition.
_5s. net._

---- and B. T. B. The Bad Child's Book of Beasts. New edition.
25th thousand. _Sq. 4to. 1s. net._

---- and B. T. B. More Beasts for Worse Children. New edition.
_Sq. 4to. 1s. net._

_See also Readers' Library and Shilling Series for other books
by H. Belloc._

BOURNE, GEORGE. Change in the Village: A study of the
village of to-day. _Cr. 8vo. 5s. net._

-------- Lucy Bettesworth. _Cr. 8vo. 6s._