Defenders of Democracy Part 6

(Hotly) Loyal? Loyal! When they refused to carry out their Government's orders? When they deny justice to a long suffering people? Loyal! Don't prost.i.tute the word.

DARTREY

(Angrily) I don't want to---

GILRUTH

(Going on vehemently) It's just that kind of pig-headed ignorance that has kept the two countries from understanding each other. Why shouldn't Ireland govern herself. South Africa does. Australia does. And when you're in trouble they leap to your flag. Yet there is a country a few miles from you that sends the best of her people to your professions and they invariably get to the top of them. Irishmen have commanded your armies and Ireland has given you admirals for your fleet and at least one of us has been your Lord Chief Justice. Yet, by G.o.d, they can't be trusted to govern themselves. I tell you the English treatment of Ireland makes her a laughing-stock of the world.

DARTREY

(Opens the door, then turns and looks straight at Gilruth) My head bothers me. Will you kindly---

GILRUTH

(All contrition) I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to blaze out. Do forgive me like a good fellow. It's an old sore of mine and sometimes it makes me wince. It did just now. Don't be mad with me.

(The sound of a boy's voice calling newspapers is heard faintly in the distance; then the hoa.r.s.e tones of a man shouting indistinctly; then a chorus of men and boys comes nearer and nearer calling of some calamity. Dartrey hurries out through the outer door.

Gilruth stands ashamed. He does not want to leave his friend in bad blood. He would like to put things right before going. He waits for Dartrey to come back.

In a few minutes Dartrey walks through the outer doorway and into the room. He is very white, very agitated and his face is set and determined. He is reading a special edition of an evening paper with great "scare" head lines.

The sound of the voices crying the news in the street grows fainter and fainter.

Dartrey stops in front of Gilruth and tries to speak; nothing coherent comes from his lips. He thrusts the paper into Gilruth's hands and watches his face as he reads.

Gilruth reads it once slowly, then rapidly. He stands immovable staring at the news-sheet. It slips from his fingers and he cowers down, stooping at the shoulders, glaring at the floor.)

DARTRY

(Almost frenzied) Now will your country come in? Now will they fight for civilization? A hundred of her men, women and children done to death. Is that war? Or is it murder? Already men are reading in New York and Washington of the sinking of that ship and the murder of their people. What are they going to do? What are YOU going to do?

GILRUTH

(Creeps unsteadily to the door; standing himself with a hand on the lock; his back is to the room. He speaks in a strange, far-off, quavering voice)

She was on the LUSITANIA! Mona. She was on it. Mona was on it.

(Creeps out through the street door and disappears)

(Dartrey looks after him)

(The curtain falls and rises again in a few moments. Several days have elapsed. Dartrey, in full uniform, is busily packing his regimental kit. The bandage has been removed from his head. The telephone bell rings. Dartrey answers it)

DARTREY

Yes. Yes. Who is it? Oh! Do. Yes. No. Not at all. Come up.

All right.

(Replaces the receiver and continues packing)

(In a few moments the door-bell rings. Dartrey opens the outer door and brings Gilruth into the room. He is in deep mourning; is very white and broken. He seems grievously ill. Dartrey looks at him commiseratingly. He is sensitive about speaking)

GILRUTH

(Faintly) Put up with me for a bit? Will you?

(Dartrey just puts his hand on the man's shoulder)

(Gilruth sinks wearily and lifelessly into a chair)

She is buried.

DARTREY

What?

GILRUTH

(Nods) She is buried. In Kensal Green. Half an hour ago.

DARTREY

(In a whisper) They found her?

GILRUTH

(Nods again) Picked up by some fishermen.

DARTREY

Queenstown?

GILRUTH

A few miles outside. I went there that night and stayed there until--until she--they found her.

(Covers his face. Dartrey puts his arm around him and presses his shoulder)

I wandered round there for days. Wasn't so bad while it was light.

People to talk to. All of us on the same errand. Searching.

Searching. Hoping--some of them. I didn't. I knew from the first.

I KNEW. It was horrible at night alone. I had to try and sleep sometimes. They'd wake me when the bodies were brought in. Hers came toward dawn one morning. Three little babies, all twined in each others arms, lying next to her. Three little babies. Cruel that. Wasn't it?

(Waits as he thinks; then he goes on dully; evenly, with no emotion)

Fancy! She'd been out in the water for days and nights. All alone.

Tossed about. Days and nights. She! who'd never hurt a soul.

Couldn't. She was always laughing and happy. Drifting about. All alone. Quite peaceful she looked. Except--except--