The Great Adventure Part 28

ALCAR. I do not doubt----

EBAG. (With suave a.s.surance.) But I do.

ALCAR. (Continuing.) I do not doubt your conviction, Mr. Texel. It merely proves that you have never seen a British Jury exercising itself upon a question relating to the fine arts. If you had you would not be certain, for you would know that twelve tradesmen so occupied are capable of accomplishing the most incredible marvels. Supposing you don't win--supposing Mr. Ebag wins----

EBAG. As I a.s.suredly shall.

ALCAR. Then we should have the whole world saying, "Well, they haven't given a national funeral to a really great artist for about a century, and when at last they do try they only succeed in burying a valet."

CARVE. (Looking round casually.) England all over!

ALCAR. The effect would be lamentable--utterly lamentable. You will realize that in influential quarters----

TEXEL. But do you reckon this policy of hushing up things ever does any good?

ALCAR. My dear sir, it is the corner-stone of England's greatness. It is the policy that has made her what she is!

CARVE. (Looking round again.) True! What she is!

ALCAR. (Turning sharply to CARVE behind him.) Mr. X, your interest in my picture flatters me immensely----

CARVE. (Interrupting him.) I see you've bought my latest portrait of my wife.

ALCAR. Yes.

JANET. (Starting up.) What's that? (She goes to inspect picture.)

CARVE. I suppose it would be abusing your hospitality to inquire how much you paid our excellent dealer for it?

ALCAR. Not in the least. But the fact is we haven't yet settled the price. The exact price is to depend on the result of our gathering.

JANET. Well, if anybody had told me I should find my own portrait--cooking-sleeves and all----

(Inarticulate--she returns to her chair.)

ALCAR. And now that we have got so far, Mr. X, I should like to centralize the attention of this quite friendly gathering on yourself.

CARVE. (Approaching airily.) Really! (He sits.)

ALCAR. There are several questions we might discuss. For example, we might argue the artistic value of the pictures admittedly the work of Mr. X. That would probably occupy us for about ten years. Or we might ask ourselves how it happened that that exceedingly astute dealer, Mr.

Ebag, came to sell as a genuine Ilam Carve, without offering any explanation, a picture which, on the face of it, was painted some time after that great painter had received a national funeral in Westminster Abbey.

EBAG. Sheer carelessness, my lord.

ALCAR. Or we might ask ourselves why a valet should try to pa.s.s himself off as a world-renowned artist. Or, on the other hand, why a world-renowned artist should pa.s.s himself off as a valet.

CARVE. Sheer carelessness, my lord.

ALCAR. But these details of psychology are beside the main point. And the main point is (to CARVE)--Are you Ilam Carve or are you Albert Shawn? (To the others.) Surely with a little goodwill and unembarra.s.sed by the a.s.sistance of experts, lawyers, and wigs generally, we can settle that! And once it is settled the need for a trial ceases.

(CARVE a.s.sumes an elaborately uninterested air.) The main point does not seem to interest you, Mr. X.

CARVE. (Seeming to start.) I beg your pardon. No, not profoundly. Why should it?

ALCAR. Yet you claim----

CARVE. Excuse me. I claim nothing except to be let alone. Certainly I do not ask to be accepted as Ilam Carve. I was leading a placid and agreeable existence in a place called Putney, an ideal existence with a pearl among women, when my tranquillity was disturbed and my life transformed into a perfect nightmare by a quarrel between a retail trades-man (indicating EBAG) and a wholesale ink-dealer (indicating TEXEL) about one of my pictures. It does not concern me. My role is and will be pa.s.sive. If I am forced into the witness-box I shall answer questions to the worst of my ability, and I shall do no more. I am not cross. I am not sulking; but I consider that I have a grievance. If I am here, it is solely because my wife does what she likes with me.

TEXEL. Bravo! This is as good as the trial.

ALCAR. (Good-humouredly.) Will you answer questions here?

CARVE. (Good-humouredly.) It depends.

ALCAR. Do you a.s.sert that you are Ilam Carve?

CARVE. I a.s.sert nothing.

ALCAR. Are you Ilam Carve?

CARVE. Yes, but I don't want to be.

ALCAR. Might I inquire why you allowed your servant to be buried in your name?

CARVE. Well, he always did everything for me--a most useful man.... But I didn't 'allow' him to be buried in my name. On the contrary, I told various people that I was not dead--but strange to say, n.o.body would believe me. My handsome, fascinating cousin here wouldn't even let me begin to tell him. Even my wife wouldn't believe me, so I gave it up.

(TEXEL does not conceal his enjoyment of the scene.)

CYRUS. (Grimly.) Which wife?

(CARVE twiddles his thumbs.)

ALCAR. But do you mean----

TEXEL. May I interrupt, Lord Leonard? I could listen for hours to this absolutely stupendous gentleman. A circus is nothing to it. But aren't we jumping the track? I've got two witnesses. Mr. Cyrus Carve will swear that your Mr. X is not his cousin. And the original Mrs. Albert Shawn will swear that he is her husband. That's my case. How is my esteemed opponent going to answer it?

EBAG. In the first place, have you cross-examined this very original Mrs. Albert Shawn?

TEXEL. Come. You don't mean to argue that a woman could mistake another man for her own husband--even after twenty-five years or so?

EBAG. (Smiling apologetically for his freedom.) According to the divorce reports, they're constantly doing it after one year, to say nothing of twenty-five.

TEXEL. (Appreciative.) Good! That's good! Well, I may tell you right here that I had an interview with this gentleman's (indicating CARVE) ecclesiastical twins only yesterday afternoon, and they a.s.sure me that their mother is positive on the point.

JANET. (Meditatively.) Simpletons!

ALCAR. I beg pardon.

JANET. I daresay they preach very nicely, but out of the pulpit they don't what I should call shine, poor boys! Anybody could see she wasn't positive. Why, it wasn't until the old lady dropped in to have a cup of tea with us that I felt sure my husband's name really was Carve.