Stephen Archer, and Other Tales Part 49

_Bill_. Pleasir, shall I run and fetch a bobby? I likes to see a swell wanted.

_Ger._ You hold your tongue. (_Retires to the dais and sits down._ MRS. C. _follows him_.)

_Wat_. (_taking out his pocket-book, and approaching_ MATTIE). I didn't think you'd have served me so, Mattie! Indeed I didn't! It's not kind after what's been between you and me. (MATTIE _rises and stands staring at him_.) You've ruined my prospects--you have! But I don't want to bear malice: take that.--Old times, you know!--Take it.

You're welcome. (_Forces the note on her. She steps back. It drops_.)

_Mat_. This is a humiliation! Will n.o.body take him away?

_Sus_. (_rushing at him_). You be off! An' them goggle eyes o' yours, or _I_'ll goggle 'em! I can't bear the sight on 'em. _I_ should never ha' taken you for a gentleman. You don't look it. You slope, I say!

(_Hustles him_.)

WATERFIELD _picks up the note, and exit_.

_Mat_. (_bursting into tears_) Father! father! don't hate me; don't despise me.

THOMAS _tries to get up, but falls back_.

_Bill_. Don't be in no hurry, Daddy. There's none but friends here now--'cep' the old lady;--she do look glum.

_Sus_. I'll soon settle her hash!

_Mat_. Susie! Susie! Don't--there's a dear!

_Sus_. What business has she here then! She's not a doin' of nothink.

_Mat_. Don't you see she's looking after the poor gentleman there?

_Ger._ William!--William!--Gone again! What a fellow he is! The best servant in the world, but always vanishing! Call your James--will you, aunt? We must have the old man put to bed. But the poor girl looks the worse of the two! She can have the spare room, and William can sleep on the sofa in mine.

_Mrs. C._ I'll see to it.

_Exit_. GER. _goes towards_ THOMAS.

_Tho._ Coom whoam--coom whoam, Mattie! Thi mother, hoo's cryin' her eighes eawt to whoam.

_Mat_. I'll run for a doctor first, father.

_Tho._ No, no, chylt! Aw're only a bit stonned, like. Aw'll be o' reet in a smo' bit. Aw dunnot want no doctor. Aw'm a coomin' reawnd.

_Ger._ Neither of you shall stir to-night. Your rooms will be ready in a few minutes.

_Mat_. Thank you, sir! I don't know what I should have done with him.--Susan, you wouldn't mind going home without me? You know Miss Lacordere--

_Ger._ Miss Lacordere! What do you know of her?

_Mat_. Oh, dear! Oh, dear! I oughtn't to have mentioned her. But my poor head!--

_Ger._ What of Miss Lacordere? For G.o.d's sake, tell me.

_Enter_ MRS. C. _with_ JAMES.

_Sus_. Oh, nothing, sir! nothing at all! Only Miss Lacordere has been good to us--which it's more than can be said for everybody! (_Scowls at_ MRS. C. JAMES _proceeds to lift_ THOMAS. _She flies at him_.) Put the old gentleman down, you sneakin' reptile! How many doors have you been a hearkenin' at since mornin'--eh, putty-lump? You touch the old man again, and I'll mark you! Here, Bill! I'll take his head--you take his feet. We'll carry him between us like a feather.

_Mat_. O Susan! do hold your tongue.

_Sus_. It's my only weapon, my dear. If I was a man--see if I'd talk then.

_James_. It's a providence you ain't a man, young woman!

_Sus_. Right you are! Them's my werry motives. I ain't a makin' of no complaint on that score, young Plush! I wouldn't be a man for--no, not for--not even for sich a pair o' calves as yourn!

SUS. _and_ BILL _carry_ THO. _out_. MAT. _follows_. GER. _is going after them_.

_Mrs. C._ Don't you go, Arthur. They can manage quite well. I will go if you like.

_Ger._ They know something about Constance.

_Mrs. C._ Pray give yourself no anxiety about her.

_Ger._ What do you mean, aunt?

_Mrs. C._ I will be responsible for her.

_Ger._ Where is she then? (_Exit_ MRS. C.) William!--If he doesn't come in one minute more, I'll go after her myself. Those girls know where she is. I am as strong as a giant.--O G.o.d! All but married to that infamous fellow!--That he should ever have touched the tip of one of her fingers! What a sunrise of hope! Psyche may yet fold her wings to my prayer! William! William!--Where _can_ the fellow be?

_Enter_ COL. G. _in uniform and star, leading_ CONSTANCE.

_Ger._ (_hurrying to meet them_). Constance! Constance! forgive me. Oh my G.o.d! You will when you know all.

_Col. G._ She knows enough for that already, my boy, or she wouldn't be here. Take her--and me for her sake.

_Ger._ What! who--? Constance!--What does it all mean?--It must be--can it be--my father?--William--It _is_ William!--William my father!--O father! father! (_throwing his arms about him_) it _was_ you all the time then!

_Col. G._ My boy! my boy! There!--take Constance, and let me go. I did want to do something for you--but--There! I'm too much ashamed to look at you in my own person.

_Ger._ (_kneeling_). Father! father! don't talk like that! O father!

_my_ father!

_Col. G._ (_raising him_). My boy! my boy! I wanted to do something for you--tried hard--and was foiled.--I doubly deserved it. I doubted as well as neglected you. But G.o.d is good. He has shamed me, and saved you.

_Ger._ By your hand, father.

_Col. G._ No--by his own. It would all have come right without me. I was unworthy of the honour, my boy. But I was allowed to try; and for that I am grateful.--Arthur, I come to you empty-handed--a beggar for your love.

_Ger._ How dare you say that, father?--Empty-handed--bringing me her and your-self--all I ever longed for!--my father and my Psyche!

Father, _thank_ you. The poor word must do its best. I thank you with my very soul.--How _shall_ I bear my happiness!--Constance, it was my father all the time! Did you know it? Serving me like a slave!--humouring all my whims!--watching me night and day!--and then bringing me--

_Con._ Your own little girl, Arthur. But why did you not tell me?