The Drone Part 18

MCCREADY (_to himself_). Ach. She only torments me.

DANIEL (_looking over wonderingly_). Eh? People behave strangely sometimes, Andy. Very strangely. (MCCREADY _makes no response, but sits with his back to the two of them._) Just a moment, Andy. What about a wee drink. Eh, Andy?

ANDY. Aye. Well, I wouldn't mind at all, Daniel.

DANIEL. Just to show there's no ill-feeling over this unfortunate business. (_He goes to the clock, opens the panel door and takes out a bottle of whiskey, gets gla.s.ses from the dresser and pours out a small portion of whiskey into each._) Good health, Andy.

ANDY. Good health, Daniel. (_They drink._)

DANIEL. Now to go on with our business. I don't think, in the first case, that this was an affaire de coeur, as the Frenchmen say.

ANDY. Eh?

DANIEL. You don't understand French? Of course not. No. It wasn't a love affair, I mean. I don't think Sarah was in love with John, was she?

ANDY (_hesitatingly_). Well--indeed, now, I don't know that she was.

DANIEL. No. We're all aware of that. He was just what we'd call a likely man. That's all.

ANDY. Aye. He would have been a good match for her.

DANIEL. Yes. Quite so, Andy. He would have been a good match for her.

(_He makes notes in a pocket book._) Nothing like notes, Andy. Now, so much for the love part of the business. They never exchanged letters?

ANDY. No. No letters.

DANIEL (_writing_). No letters. Of course in a breach of promise letters are a great help. A great help. I'm very glad, however, just for your sister's sake, that she never wrote any to John. Imagine them reading out the love letters in the open court, and all the servant boys gaping and laughing.

ANDY. It's not nice, right enough. It's one thing I wouldn't like.

DANIEL. No. It's one thing we would not like. Well. No love. No letters. Next thing. He never courted her?

ANDY. Well, he came over and sat in the house a few nights.

DANIEL. Yes. No doubt. But hadn't he always some message on business to transact with you? Loan of a plough or a horse, or something like that?

ANDY (_uneasily_). That's so, of course.

DANIEL. Ah, yes. That's so, of course.

ANDY. But I seen him with his arm round her the night of the social at the school house.

DANIEL. Andy. That's a wee failing of John's. I often warned him about doing that sort of thing indiscriminately. A bit of a ladies' man, John, in his way. I saw him do the same nonsense four or five times that night with other girls. John likes to think himself a bit of a gay dog, you know. It's not right--I don't think myself it's a bit proper to put your arm round a girl's waist on every occasion, but sometimes it's quite allowable. A night like a social, for instance.

ANDY. Aye. Of course a social's different.

DANIEL. Aye, Andy, a social's different. Well, now. No love, no letters, no courting, no photographs exchanged? (_He looks at_ ANDY _inquiringly_). No photographs exchanged? (_He notes it down._) No ring? In fact, Andy, no nothing.

ANDY. But he proposed to her right enough.

DANIEL. Who said so?

ANDY (_astonished_). What? Do you mean to deny he didn't?

DANIEL. My dear Andy, I don't know. There was no one there but the two, I suppose, when he asked her--if he did ask her. There's only her word for it.

ANDY. He wouldn't deny it himself?

DANIEL. Well. That depends on whether he really asked her to marry him of course. And it's likely enough that John would be inclined to deny it if his memory was at all bad--it is a bad memory he has, you know.

He forgets often to return your ploughs and that sort of thing.

ANDY (_blankly_). Aye. He has a bad memory.

DANIEL. Yes. Just so. And the fact that a verdict of one thousand pounds would hang on it would hardly make it any better. Would it?

You've a bad case against us, Andy. A rotten case! In fact, looking over the whole thing carefully, do you really believe you'd make even a ten pound note out of us?

ANDY (_despairingly_). I wish Sarah had come and settled the case herself.

DANIEL. Ah, no. You've a better head, Andy, for seeing the sensible side of a thing, far better. (MARY _comes out of the workshop smiling gaily._) Well?

MARY. Uncle Dan, he's delighted with it.

ANDY. What with? The bellows?

MARY. Yes. Go in, Andy, till you see it.

ANDY. Is it true, Daniel, you were offered two thousand for it?

DANIEL. We'll just go in and have a look at it. (ANDY _and he go into workshop._)

MARY (_looking across at_ ALICK). What's the matter?

ALICK. Nothing. I'm going home. (_He goes across to the yard door._)

MARY. Alick!

MCCREADY. Goodbye.

MARY. And I was going to go to all the trouble of baking a big plum cake for you, you big ungrateful thing.

MCCREADY (_stopping at the door_). I know what your plum cakes would be like. (_He opens the door and stops again before going out._)

MARY. Well, get that big, ugly Maggie Murphy to bake them for you then.

MCCREADY (_looking out through door and then coming inside again_). I say, here's Kate and your father coming and a load of flour.

MARY (_in a frightened voice_). Kate and father?