PERSONS REPRESENTED IN THE PROLOGUE.

SIR PERCIVAL GLYDE.
WALTER HARTRIGHT.
PROFESSOR PESCA.

MRS. CATHERICK.
ANNE CATHERICK.

DATE: March 31,1862.
PLACE: The village of Old Welmingham in Hampshire.

The action takes place partly in the burial-ground of Old Welmingham Church, partly in the vestry of the church. Time, morning. The sky bright, a fine spring day. The stage is divided into two portions. The portion on the actor's right hand represents part of the interior of the vestry, the remainder being supposed to be continued off the stage on the right. The portion on the actor's left hand, in like manner, represents part of the churchyard, showing the low grassy graves, the yew-tree, and the country beyond. An old oaken door leads from the churchyard into the vestry. A second door, inside the vestry, at the back, is supposed to communicate with the church. Above this second door an arched opening appears, used to light the vestry from the church. The only articles of furniture visible are an old flat-topped oaken press, containing the church registers, and an open iron stove. In the churchyard ANNE CATHERICK and SIR PERCIVAL are discovered. SIR PERCIVAL, dressed in mourning for his father, stands at the side on the left, looking towards ANNE. ANNE, dressed entirely in white of cheap and poor material, is seated, with her back turned on SIR PERCIVAL, and with a book in her hand, on one of the low graves near the vestry-door, looking at the distant view.

Sir P. (to himself). What is the crazy fool doing there? If I don't get rid of her she will see me open the vestry-[6]door. (He advances, and calls to her.) Anne! Anne Catherick!

Anne (turning towards him). You know my name? (She rises.) I know yours. Sir Percival Glyde.

Sir P. What are you doing in the churchyard?

Anne. Thinking of the dead.

Sir P. Suppose you try a change. Take a walk in the village, and think of the living.

Anne. I have no friends among the living. My friend is in heaven. Here is the book that she gave me. (She points to the distance.) There is the view which she said was the prettiest in all Hampshire. I look at it every day for her sake. Dear Mrs. Fairlie!

Sir P. (surprised). Mrs. Fairlie? The late Mrs. Fairlie, of Limmeridge House?

Anne (eagerly approaching him). Yes, Limmeridge House, Cumberland. You knew her? I didn't like you at first. I like you now. Let's shake hands.

Sir P. (putting her hand away from him contemptuously). Where can Mrs. Fairlie have picked up this half-witted creature? Not in Cumberland, surely?

Anne. Mrs. Fairlie didn't always live in the north; she once lived here in Hampshire, in the time when her husband the captain was alive, in the time when I was a little girl. I'll tell you all about it.

Sir P. (to himself). How the devil am I to get rid of her?

Anne (eagerly). It's long since. I was only nine years old. I'm not happy at home now, and I wasn't happy then. Mrs. Fairlie made up for it all. She pitied me, she taught me, she let me play with her little daughter--

Sir P. (interrupting her). Very interesting! (Pointing off on the left.) There's a bird in the lane; go and tell the rest of the story to the bird.

Anne (not heeding him). Wait! you haven't heard the best of it. Mrs. Fairlie used to dress me all in white, just as her own little girl was dressed. It amused her to see us together, we were so like each other. The cleverest people were taken in by it, they couldn't tell which was which. Do you know Miss Fairlie? Are we like each other still?

[7]Sir P. (to himself, interested for the moment). They are as like as two peas. And Miss Fairlie is said to be the image of her father! The captain's character was notorious among the women; Mrs. Catherick must have had attractions in her time--

Anne (repeating her question). Am I like Miss Fairlie now she has grown up?

Sir P. (pursuing his thought). Are they half-sisters without knowing it?

Anne. You don't notice my dress. I always wear white in remembrance of Mrs. Fairlie and her little girl. Why should they call me mad for doing that? Is it mad to be grateful to the only friend I ever had? Oh, how I cried when Mrs. Fairlie went away to Cumberland! I should like to see her grave, sir, in Limmeridge churchyard.

Sir P. This is beyond endurance. (To ANNE.) Here, didn't you say Mrs. Fairlie gave you that book? Let's look at it.

Anne (giving it him). Isn't it pretty?

Sir P. (opening the book). Beautiful! Show it to the bird in the lane. (He throws the book off on the left.) Follow your book. Good morning.

Anne. You brute! How dare you treat Mrs. Fairlie's gift in that way? (She looks off.) Oh, my poor book!

(She hurries out on the left. SIR PERCIVAL takes a large key from his pocket, and approaches the vestry-door.)

Sir P. Now for it, before any more idlers come into the churchyard. (He puts the key in the lock, and tries unsuccessfully to turn it.) Hang the lock! It's out of repair, like everything else in this hole of a place.

(ANNE reappears softly at the side, with her book in her hand.)

Anne (to herself). I'll be even with him for throwing away Mrs. Fairlie's book! What does he want in the vestry? I'll slip round by the church and see.

(She goes out again. SIR PERCIVAL succeeds in turning the lock.)

Sir P. I have done it at last. (He looks round.) Not a soul to see me! (He enters the vestry, closes and locks the door on the inside, then puts the key in his pocket, and [8]looks at the press.) Here's where the church registers are kept! I am to wait in the vestry till Anne's mother brings me the key of the press. She said she would come in by the door from the church. (He indicates the door at the back.) That door, I suppose. (He looks again at the press.) I'm running a desperate risk. Tampering with a register is felony. Penal servitude for me if I'm found out. (He starts. A key is heard turning in the door leading into the church.) Mrs. Catherick!

(The door opens, and MRS. CATHERICK appears on the threshold. She is over-dressed for her age and her station in life, has a bold look, and speaks in a hard, defiant manner.)

Mrs. C. (closing the door behind her). You're punctual to your time, Sir Percival.

Sir P. Have you got the key of the press?

Mrs. C. You must wait for the key.

Sir P. Here?

Mrs. C. No. (SIR PERCIVAL approaches the door leading into the churchyard. MRS. CATHERICK checks him.) Stop! I have something to say to you in private. It's safest to say it here.

Sir P. What do you want?

Mrs. C. Women are naturally inquisitive, Sir Percival. I know something already of you and your family, and I want to know more. Are you a rich man?

Sir P. Rich! I am over head and ears in debt.

Mrs. C. Can't you raise money on the estate?

Sir P. What next, I wonder? No, I can't raise a farthing. Any more questions?

Mrs. C. Plenty more. Is it true that you are engaged to be married.

Sir P. You're a cool woman, if ever there was one yet. However, it's no secret. I am engaged to be married?

Mrs. C. Soon?

Sir P. This summer.

Mrs. C. To the rich Miss Fairlie, of Limmeridge House?

Sir P. To the rich Miss Fairlie, of Limmeridge House. Now for a question on my side. These inquiries of yours have a meaning, I suppose? You're trying after something. What is it?

[9]Mrs. C. I am trying to find out your motive in coming here.

Sir P. My motive is no business of yours. I have offered you--

Mrs. C. You have offered me fifty pounds to get you access privately to the church registers. My husband is answerable for the registers to the rector, and the rector is answerable to the law. If I put the registers into your hands, what are your hands going to do with them? Answer me that.

Sir P. I decline to answer you. I expect you to help me blindfold--and I pay you handsomely for doing it.

Mrs. C. That's your side of the question. Now look at mine. It's a risk to let you in here, in my husband's absence.

Sir P. Fifty pounds!

Mrs. C. It's a risk to steal the key.

Sir P. Fifty pounds!

Mrs. C. It's a risk to leave you here, with the registers at your mercy.

Sir P. Fifty pounds!

Mrs. C. Have you no more to say to me than that?

Sir P. Not a word more. (He takes a bank-note from his pocket-book.) This, in exchange for the key of the press--without questions. Take it, or leave it, which you please.

Mrs. C. (holding out her hand). I take it.

Sir P. (withholding it). In exchange for the key!

Mrs. C. Give me a quarter of an hour--and you shall have the key.

Sir P. (putting back the note). I'll smoke a cigar in the lane, and come back. (Aside.) If she gives me the key, she becomes my accomplice. Penal servitude for her, if she betrays me after that!

(He puts the key into the lock of the door leading into the churchyard.)

Mrs. C. (aside). There is a private copy of the registers in the rector's possession. If the fool had trusted me, I would have told him of it! (To SIR PERCIVAL.) Not that way! There are strangers in the lane--two gentlemen with knapsacks on their backs; artists, or such like.

Sir P. (turning towards the other door). This way? (He [10]notices the arched opening above the door.) What's that for?

Mrs. C. It's a make-shift to let light and air into the vestry--it opens out from the organ-gallery. Stand back, and let me see if the coast's clear. (She opens the door into the church, looks in, and listens.) It's all safe. Come out this way. Smoke your cigar in the copse--and meet me again in a quarter of an hour at the church porch.

(She crosses the threshold and stops.)

Sir P. What's wrong now?

Mrs. C. Nothing. One word of warning while I think of it. You have mortally offended that crazy daughter of mine. She's revengeful and cunning. Mind she doesn't follow you, on your way back to the church!

(She leads the way out. SIR PERCIVAL follows her, and closes the door. ANNE CATHERICK shows herself at the arched opening above the door.)

Anne (in triumph). My clever mother never thought of looking for me in the organ-loft! Crazy as I am, I have heard him already. When he comes back again, I can see him from here.

(She disappears from the opening. At the same moment, WALTER HARTRIGHT and PROFESSOR PESCA, both equipped for a walking tour, appear in the churchyard.)

Wal. Give me ten minutes, Pesca. I want to take a rough sketch of this picturesque old church.

(He produces his sketch-book and pencils.)

Pesca (despondently). Right--all-right, Walter! Take your sketch.

(He unbuckles his knapsack, and seats himself. WALTER, still standing, looks at him in surprise.)

Wal. I don't annoy you, by stopping here--do I?

Pesca (vehemently remonstrating). My soul-bless-my-soul! he asks if he annoys me! (WALTER smiles, and begins his sketch, while PESCA goes on speaking, more and more excitedly.) Here am I--Pesca--Italian exile, and professor of languages. I am broken down with nothing but teach, teach, teach, morning, noon, and night. The doctors say, deuce-what-the-deuce! too many pupils for this one little man! Give him a holiday; put a knapsack on his back, and a stick in his hand; make him walk, [11]walk, walk, in the fine fresh air, till he has changed the vertigoes in his head for blisters on his feet. In a month he will be well again. There is the sentence pronounced on me! After teach, teach, teach, I am to walk, walk, walk--all by myself. Who says, "No! Pesca shall have a companion to take care of him?" Who sacrifices his work, aches under his knapsack, blisters his feet, for Pesca's sake? The same Walter Hartright who turns on me now, and asks if he annoys me! I call heaven and earth to witness--have I deserved this?

Wal. (laughing). There! There! I withdraw the question. But--come, Pesca! you can't deny you're out of spirits?

Pesca. I don't deny it. My spirits are down in the bottoms of my boots.

Wal. You received two letters this morning. Any bad news?

Pesca. Yes, Walter. Bad news from my native country.

Wal. News from your family?

Pesca. No.

Wal. From your friends?

Pesca. From my republican friends.

Wal. (pausing in his sketching). Again? Another letter from the Secret Society to which you belonged when you were in Italy? Why did you ever join it? Why don't you leave it now?

Pesca (gravely). Once a member of that Brotherhood, Walter, always a member. I joined them years ago, my friend--under provocation which would have made you join, if you had been me. Say no more. Go on with your sketch.

Wal. I fancy there is a better point of view yonder. Shall we move up a little?

Pesca. Yes, yes; I will come after you. (WALTER withdraws up the stage, and resumes his sketch. PESCA opens a letter.) I dare not tell him what is written here! I, who ask nothing better, in my exile, than to forget the past, and end my days in peace--I am singled out, by my chief in Italy, to decide the dreadful question of a man's life or death!

Wal. (calling). Come here, Pesca! The view is much prettier on this side.

[12]Pesca. In a minute. (He reads in a low voice to himself.) "We have certain information of a member who has betrayed the Brotherhood. He was received among us, twenty years since, by you. He will be in England in three months' time. Contrive to see him without letting him see you, and then communicate privately with the two brethren whose names and addresses are enclosed. The man will die, if you identify him, by their hands." (He pauses, shuddering.) Horrible! If I say the word, he is doomed; no human laws can save him! (He reads once more.) "Personal description of the traitor. A man of sixty years old--immensely stout--bears in his face a striking resemblance to the great Napoleon--gaudy in his dress, smooth in his manners, singularly fond of pet animals, such as canary birds and white mice. He is the friend of an English baronet--Sir Percival Glyde. Set a watch on Sir Percival's town house. He will be found there on his arrival in London. Shortly afterwards, he will accompany Sir Percival to Cumberland. The name under which he travels is Count Fosco." (PESCA closes the letter, and speaks.) "Fosco?" I know nobody named "Fosco." "Immensely stout?" "fond of pet animals?" I do not recognise the description. Heaven grant--when I see him--I may not recognise the man!

(He puts the letter into his pocket.)

Wal. Pesca! what are you about? Still reading your correspondence?

Pesca (rising). My correspondence? (Suddenly remembering.) Ha! the other one of my two letters! I had quite forgotten it.

Wal. Perhaps there may be better news in that?

Pesca. I shall see. (He produces the second letter, opens it, runs his eye over it, and passes instantly from the extreme of depression to the extreme of joy.) Hurray! hurray! Right-right-right-all-right!--Walter, if you were not an Englishman, I should kiss you!

Wal. Thank you, Pesca. I'll take the will for the deed. What is it now?

Pesca (joining WALTER). What is it? What did you tell me you wanted when we set out on this journey?

Wal. I wanted employment as a drawing-master.

Pesca. Good! I have got you the employment.

[13]Wal. You?

Pesca. I. I have written right and left among my pupils whom I teach. A circular letter, my friend: "Do you know anybody who wants a drawing-master? The best drawing-master in England is at my disposal. Write-write-write!" A pupil has written--the employment is found. My soul-bless-my-soul, and such an employment too! To begin next week--to live in a fine country house--to teach a young lady to sketch from nature--and all these guineas a week offered you for the whole summer. Go, my son! Your fortune is made. You teach the young lady--you fall in love with the young lady--you marry the young lady--and I, Pesca, am at the bottom of it all. Right-right-right-all-right. Hurray!

Wal. Have you done prophesying, my good friend?

Pesca. No; there is one thing I have forgotten. I am to be godfather to your first child. Now I have done.

Wal. Now you have done, may I know the young lady's name?

Pesca (referring to the letter). Miss Fairlie. Ah, what a pretty name!

Wal. Very pretty. Any other members of the family?

Pesca (as before). Miss Fairlie's uncle, who is an invalid, confined to his room. (Good! The uncle will not be in the way!) And Miss Fairlie's relative and companion, Miss Halcombe. And that is all.

Wal. When am I wanted?

Pesca. As soon as you can go. Our holiday ends tomorrow. You can go at once. I am so happy! And you too? Suppose we embrace each other?

Wal. Suppose we shake hands. (He takes PESCA'S hand.) Thank you, Pesca, with all my heart. By-the-bye, there's a last question to ask.

Pesca. Ha! What is it? (He takes out his pipe.) I shall smoke my pipe, and cool myself down in that way. (He seats himself by WALTER.)

Wal. What part of England am I to go to?

Pesca (referring to the letter which lies beside him). To Limmeridge House, Cumberland.

Wal. Cumberland? Delightful! I long to see the mountains and the lakes!

Pesca (aside). Cumberland? I wish it had been some [14]other place. Cumberland reminds me of "Count Fosco" and "Sir Percival Glyde."

(They are silent. The door of communication between the vestry and the church opens, and SIR PERCIVAL GLYDE enters the vestry, followed by MRS. CATHERICK, who stops at the door.)

Sir P. (looking round). All safe and solitary as we left it. Give me the key.

Mrs. C. Give me the money.

(They exchange the key and the bank-note.)

Sir P. Leave me.

Mrs. C. I leave you for ten minutes--not a moment more. When I return--it's understood between us--you give me back the key.

Sir P. Go! (MRS. CATHERICK withdraws, closing the door behind her. SIR PERCIVAL turns, and lays his hand on the press, reflecting.) I am lost if I make the slightest mistake. Let me have it all clear in my head at starting. What did my father's death-bed confession tell me? He and my mother--believed by everybody about them to be man and wife, at the time of my birth--were not married till three years afterwards. I have no more right to the title and estates that I have inherited than those two strangers who are sketching in the churchyard. There is my position. What am I to do to mend it? Can I get at the register of my birth? No. I was born in London. I can't tamper with the register there. My one chance is in this remote village, with the register of my parents' marriage. Now for the book! (He opens the press. The registers are all ranged neatly, side by side, with their dates on their backs.) The year of my birth was eighteen hundred and thirty-seven. The volume to look for is the volume for eighteen hundred and forty. (He picks out the volume, puts it on the top of the press, and finds the entry.) Here it is! Let the register of my birth be compared with this entry--I have had a warning already that inquiry is possible--and I am thrown, a nameless vagabond, on the mercy of the world! (He takes hold of the leaf to tear it out. At the same moment, ANNE CATHERICK appears at the arched opening, peering down at him.) Out it comes! (He tears out the leaf, and closes the volume.) Done--so [15]far! Now for the year when they ought to have been married!--when they would have been married, if my mother had not had a husband living at the time-the volume for 'thirty-six. I have only to copy this entry (he holds up the torn leaf) in the first blank space I can find--with the prepared ink that I have got here (he taps his breast-pocket)--and I breathe again freely. I set inquiry at defiance!

Anne (with a gesture of vindictive triumph). Do you!

Sir P. (looking up with a cry of rage and horror). Damnation! She has seen me!

(ANNE disappears. SIR PERCIVAL stands for the moment panic-stricken. WALTER and PESCA, in the churchyard, start, and look at each other, having heard SIR PERCIVAL'S cry. WALTER advances a step towards the vestry. PESCA follows him.)

Sir P. (wild and giddy). The blood is in my head!--the place whirls round with me! Where is the door?

(He finds his way to the door leading into the church, flings it open, and discovers MRS. CATHERICK holding ANNE a prisoner, with one hand over her mouth.)

Sir P. (beside himself, addressing MRS. CATHERICK). She has heard me! She has seen me!

Mrs. C. (with quiet resolution). Silence! Strangers in the churchyard. (ANNE struggles.) Hold her while I get my handkerchief over her mouth. (SIR PERCIVAL seizes her. ANNE turns faint; her head sinks on MRS. CATHERICK'S shoulder.) Let her be--she is harmless now--I can hold her. What is that paper? (She points to the torn leaf on the press. SIR PERCIVAL snatches it up, without answering, and crumples it into his pocket. MRS. CATHERICK continues.) Put away the book--and give me the key.

(She looks towards the press. SIR PERCIVAL puts back the volume; locks the door of the press; and gives MRS. CATHERICK the key--while WALTER and PESCA speak the words which follow.)

Wal. I thought I heard some one cry out in the vestry.

Pesca. And I too! Let us listen again.

(A momentary pause.)

[16]Wal. Ought we to interfere?

Pesca. Is it any business of ours?

Wal. (imposing silence on PESCA). Hush!

Mrs. C. (imposing silence on SIR PERCIVAL). Hush!

[17]PERSONS REPRESENTED IN THE DRAMA.

SIR PERCIVAL GLYDE.
COUNT FOSCO.
WALTER HARTRIGHT.
PROFESSOR PESCA.
MR. KYRLE
PHILIP.
Two Strangers, Members of a Secret Society.
Two Men, Attendants at a Lunatic Asylum.
Servants.

LAURA FAIRLIE.
MARIAN HALCOMBE.
ANNE CATHERICK.
COUNTESS FOSCO.
The Matron at the Lunatic Asylum.

[18]

The action takes place, towards evening, in an ornamental summer-house, called "The Swiss Chalet," in Limmeridge Park.

The stage represents the interior of the chalet. A closed door on the left in supposed to lead into a second room. At the back, a larger door (open), and a large open window (on the right of the door), disclose a view of the park, closed by the trees in the distance. The red glow of sunset is over the scene. Two small tables with sketching materials on them, and a few chairs, form the furniture of the chalet.

At the rise of the curtain, WALTER HARTRIGHT and MARIAN HALCOMBE are discovered. WALTER is about to leave the chalet by the door at the back. MARIAN, appearing at the door on the left, stops him.

Mar. Wait a moment.

Wal. (turning round at the door). Pardon me, Miss Halcombe. Miss Fairlie has gone on to the house.

Mar. I wish to speak to you before you join Miss Fairlie. (She seats herself at a table in the centre, and signs to WALTER to take a chair on the opposite side.) Mr. Hartright, you have been staying with us at Limmeridge for three months----

Wal. The three happiest months of my life!

Mar. In the course of your residence with us, I have come to feel a strong friendly regard for you. I believe you to be a gentleman, in the highest and best sense of the word. In that belief I am about to appeal to your honour, and to your good sense. You have attempted to keep a secret from me. I have discovered your secret!

[19]Wal. (starting). Miss Halcombe!

Mar. You have allowed yourself to form an attachment--a serious and devoted attachment, I am afraid--to Laura Fairlie. (WALTER attempts to speak. She stops him.) I don't ask you to make any confession; I don't put you on your defence. You have taken no underhand advantage; you have not spoken to Laura in secret. Shake hands; I have given you pain; I am going to give you more; shake hands first, with your friend, Marian Halcombe. (She gives him her hand across the table.) Plainness is kindness, Mr. Hartright, in such a case as this. You must leave Limmeridge House.

Wal. (bitterly). I understand, Miss Halcombe. When a drawing-master is hired to teach a young lady, he is expected to leave his heart, where he leaves his hat--in the hall.

Mar. (looking at him with sincere pity). Poor fellow! poor fellow!

Wal. (recovering himself). I beg your pardon! I am not as ungrateful as I seem; I am not indeed! When must I go?

Mar. Let me tell you first, why you must go. What I have just said to you, I must have said if you had been a member of one of the greatest families in England. You must leave us, not because you are a teacher of drawing--(she pauses for a moment. WALTER eagerly waits for the next words)--but because Laura Fairlie is engaged to be married.

Wal. (thunderstruck). Engaged to be married!!!

(His head sinks on his breast, he can say no more. MARIAN rises and lays her hand on his shoulder.)

Mar. Crush it! Don't shrink under it like a woman. Tear it out! trample it under foot like a man! (WALTER lifts his head, electrified by her words.) Are you yourself again?

Wal. (rising). Enough myself to own that you are right. One question before I go. Has she been long engaged?

Mar. For nearly two years.

Wal. (hesitatingly). Marriage engagements are not always engagements of love. Does she----(Checking himself.) No! I have no right to ask that.

[20]Mar. I understand you. Laura has consented to the engagement. She is bound by honour (if not by love) to keep her word. She was heart-free at the time. The parents on either side wished it. Her father appealed to her on his deathbed. Ask me no more! The marriage is to take place in a month from this. We expect Sir Percival Glyde----

Wal. (interrupting her). The man who is to marry her?

Mar. Do you know him?

Wal. I hear his name now for the first time.

Mar. (continuing). We expect Sir Percival Glyde and his friend, Count Fosco, here this evening. Judge for yourself of the necessity for your departure, for Laura's sake.

Wal. (turning to the door). I will go, Miss Halcombe. (He pauses, struggling with his emotion.) How can I excuse my departure to her? She expects me at the house. She will be surprised--offended--oh, Miss Halcombe, one last word, one last look from her, to take away with me into the empty world!

Mar. No! For your own sake go at once, and leave it to me to find your excuse. Hush! footsteps outside! She is coming back to look for you. (LAURA FAIRLIE appears at the door at the back.) Mind! I trust you!

(WALTER reassures her by a gesture. She withdraws to one side of the room, at the back. LAURA advances to WALTER.)

Laura. Has anything happened, Mr. Hartright? What is keeping you here?

Wal (restraining himself). My own reluctance, Miss Fairlie, to say the hardest of all hard words--farewell!

Laura (approaching nearer to him). Farewell?

Wal. (with his eyes on the ground). I ought to have told you before this. The truth is, I have been so happy here----

Laura. You don't mean that you are going away?

Wal. (more and more constrainedly). A message from London; a necessity, to which I am obliged--instantly obliged--to submit.

Laura. To-morrow?

Wal. To-day--at once.

Laura (startled and distressed). So suddenly! Without [21]even one poor little minute to spare! (She turns to MARIAN.) Marian! have you heard this? (MARIAN answers by a sign in the affirmative. LAURA turns once more to WALTER.) Are you to be long away? Are you not coming back?

Wal. I am afraid there is no hope of my coming back.

Laura (to herself). What does he mean? (She appeals again to MARIAN.) Marian!

Mar. (remaining at the back). Mr. Hartright has no alternative but to leave us.

Laura (to MARIAN). Why?

Mar. My dear Laura, there is no time to tell you why! The evening is drawing on. There is nobody at the house to receive Sir Percival----

Laura (with an expression of pain). Say no more! (To herself.) Marian has told him! (She looks towards WALTER.) How can I comfort him? how can I help him to bear it? (She goes to the side table, takes from it a little pocket sketching-book, and returns to WALTER.) I am very sorry, Mr. Hartright. Your visit here has been a pleasant visit to me. You--(she pauses, struggling with herself)--you said I had improved when I finished this sketch, to-day. Would you like to----

(Her voice fails her. She offers him the sketch-book in silence.)

Wal. (in low, broken tones). It shall never leave me! (He takes the book.) All my life long it shall be the treasure that I prize most.

Laura (trying to assume a lighter tone). A poor treasure, Mr. Hartright! Only a memorial of happy days that are gone.

Wal. Those days will never return again, Miss Fairlie. My way of life and yours are very far apart. But if a time should come when the devotion of my whole heart and soul may spare you a moment's sorrow, will you try to remember the poor drawing-master who has taught you?

Laura (unable to restrain herself). I will! I will!

Wal. (fixing his last look on her). You have many friends who love you. Your happy future is the dear object of many hopes. May I say at parting that it is the dear object of my hopes too?

[22]Laura. Oh, don't, don't look at me like that! (MISS HALCOMBE advances to interfere. LAURA'S emotion overpowers her. She gives WALTER her hand. He presses it to his lips. She suddenly draws it away from him.) Let me go! For God's sake, let me go!

(She hurries out in tears. MARIAN approaches WALTER, and takes him by the hand.)

Mar. (firmly and warmly). One last word! Your conduct to-day has made me your friend for life. Write to me from London! God bless you!

(She hurries out after LAURA. On leaving the stage they turn to the left--the actor's left.)

Wal. (alone. The glow of the sunset grows gradually deeper whilst he speaks). I saw it in her eyes; I heard it in her voice; I felt it, when my lips touched her hand--Laura loves me! Oh, my lost angel! your life wasted as well as mine! You, too, sacrificed to the merciless idol-worship of rank and wealth! Who is this man who is privileged to force his title and his money between us? Has he earned his title by great deeds? Has he gained his money by means which have benefited his country as well as himself? No! Out of his own little world, Sir Percival Glyde is as obscure as I am. He is to win her; and I am to lose her--and what makes the difference between us? An accident of birth! Are all the rights in this world to be for ever on the side of the few? Has nature no claim? Has love no privilege? Oh, life! what have you left to offer me? Oh, death! should I feel the terror of you, if you came to me now?

(He drops on a chair by the table, and hides his face in his hands. At the same moment, the figure of ANNE CATHERICK, dressed all in white, appears in the red glow of the sunset at the open window on the right. She pauses for a moment--looks off on the right--looks back at WALTER; and, entering the room, lays her hand on his shoulder.)

Wal. (starting up). Who are you?

Anne. A friendless woman. (She advances nearer to WALTER, and looks at him attentively.) Strange! I have seen your face before. Where? where?

Wal. (staggered by her likeness to LAURA FAIRLIE). Am I dreaming? Am I mad? The living image of Laura Fairlie!

[23]Anne. Do you know Laura Fairlie?

Wal. Yes.

Anne. The newspapers say Miss Fairlie is engaged to be married to Sir Percival Glyde. Is that true?

Wal. (astonished). What interest can she have in asking the question? (To ANNE.) It is true.

Anne (offering him a sealed letter). Give this letter, with my grateful duty, to Miss Fairlie. Do it as a kindness to her--not to me.

Wal. Miss Fairlie knows you?

Anne. Miss Fairlie knew me well, many years since.

Wal. The house is within ten minutes' walk of this. Go there--and you may see Miss Fairlie.

Anne (shuddering). I daren't go.

Wal. Why not?

Anne. I am afraid of meeting strangers. My letter says all that I want to say. Take it!

Wal. I am a stranger. Why do you trust your letter to me?

Anne. You are not a stranger. I have seen you before.

Wal. Where?

Anne. Wait! (She reflects.) I saw you this spring. In the lane at Old Welmingham! You were walking towards the churchyard. (She starts, and looks towards the window.) Are there people in the park? Hush! Listen!

Wal. There is nobody in the park. What are you afraid of?

Anne (wildly). I am afraid of being shut up again. I have escaped from my prison. If I stay here, I shall be found. Take warning by me, sir! Never thrust yourself into other people's secrets, as I did! (With a sudden suspicion, speaking to herself.) Does this man know anything about it? He might! (To WALTER.) What took you into the lane at Welmingham? Did you find your way to the churchyard? Did you hear anything going on in the vestry?

Wal. I thought I heard some one cry out in the vestry. It was a man's voice. It was not repeated. My friend and I listened for a minute, and then we left the place. What had you to do with it?

Anne (more and more excitedly). What had I to do with [24]it? He would have killed me! But for my mother he would have killed me! My mother said, "Shut her up." That quieted him. He said, "Well thought of! She's notoriously mad already!" (Suddenly checking herself.) Oh, I'm talking about it! I'm making my head burn again. Don't tempt me to tell you any more. He'll kill me, if I breathe a word of it to any living soul!

Wal. Hush! hush! (Aside.) Is she mad?

Anne. Are you a friend to Miss Fairlie?

Wal. Certainly!

Anne (earnestly). If you wish her well--if you have any regard for her--give her my letter before she marries Sir Percival Glyde.

Wal. (astonished). Sir Percival Glyde! (Eagerly.) What has he done? Is it he who threatened your life? Is it he who shut you up?

Anne. Don't ask me questions! Don't keep me here! Help me to return Mrs. Fairlie's kindness by a kindness done to Mrs. Fairlie's child. That's all I ask. Take it! take it!

(She presses the letter on him.)

Wal. (quieting her). Miss Fairlie shall have your letter. (He takes it. ANNE turns to go out.) Where are you going?

Anne. To the railway. I must travel northward tonight. I have a friend who will meet me at the station. Which is the nearest way out of the park?

Wal. (aside). Ought I to let her go? (To ANNE.) I am here on my way to the station. The evening is closing in. You had better let me show you the way.

Anne (aside). Let him show me the way? That's an excuse not to lose sight of me! (To WALTER.) No! You mustn't come with me. I mustn't be seen with you by my friend. Tell me the way, and let me go first. Quick! quick! I am running a dreadful risk for Miss Fairlie's sake. The way out! the way out!

Wal. (aside). I shall find her again at the station. (To ANNE.) Turn to the left on leaving this. Pass through the wicket-gate, turn to the right, and you will reach the high road. (ANNE makes for the door.) Are you sure you can find your way?

Anne. Give Miss Fairlie my letter. (She hurries out.)

Wal. (alone, looking at the letter. The sunset light [25]begins to fade.) Suppose there should really be an obstacle to the marriage? Suppose the engagement should be broken off? (With sudden resolution.) Miss Fairlie shall have the letter this evening! I will leave it at the lodge as I go by. (COUNT FOSCO appears at the window in the fading light. WALTER continues, having his back turned on the window.) Shall I one day see these familiar walls again? What mad hopes has that woman raised in me! It's time I followed her. I must go! I must go!

(He turns to go out, and sees FOSCO at the window.)

Fosco (taking off his hat). Good evening, sir.

Wal. (to himself). Who can this be?

Fosco (appearing at the door). Which is the right way, if you please, to Limmeridge House? (A momentary pause. WALTER looks at him, impressed--not favourably--by his personal appearance. FOSCO proceeds.) I ask you the question, sir, as an expected guest. I am Count Fosco.

Wal. (aside). The friend of Sir Percival Glyde!

Fosco (hearing him). Exactly! I arrived at the lodge-gate with Sir Percival and Madame Fosco. They drove on in the carriage to the house. I got out, seduced by the beauty of the park, to wander, and look about me.

Wal. (aside, absorbed in his own thoughts). Sir Percival has arrived!

Fosco (in a tone of good-humoured sarcasm). Strange, such enthusiasm at my age, is it not? Bah! Old as I am, and fat as I am, there is poetry in my soul. Nature has imperishable charms, inextinguishable tendernesses, for me. I wander in this noble park--I bathe myself in the glorious light--the sublime lines of Dante, on the evening (you know them, of course?), burst in fervent declamation from my lips. Little by little, your modest English twilight steals over the scene. I start; I look round; I find myself lost like a Babe in the Wood. Pity a poor foreign baby, sir!

Wal. You are on the right road here. (He points out through the door towards the left.) Follow the path through the shrubbery, and you will find yourself at the house.

Fosco. A thousand thanks! You are going yourself to the house?

[26]Wal. On the contrary. I am on my way out of the park.

Fosco. You have a letter in your hand. If it is for the house, can I take it?

Wal. (coldly). I won't trouble you. I have waited here too long already. Good evening. (Aside, looking at FOSCO.) If Count Fosco were to save my life, I couldn't make a friend of him!

(He goes out, turning to the right.)

Fosco (alone, looking after WALTER). A man who can resist the magnetic personal influence which I exercise over my fellow-creatures, is a man who piques my curiosity. That young gentleman is a problem that challenges me. I shall make it my business to solve him.

(ANNE CATHERICK reappears at the door, approaching it from the left. She starts at the sight of FOSCO, and utters a fatal cry of alarm.)

Fosco (taking off his hat). Enter, madam, I entreat you. There is nothing to be afraid of here.

Anne (looking round her timidly). Where is he?

Fosco. The young gentleman who was here just now? He is gone. Can I be of any use in his place?

Anne (confusedly). I wanted to speak to him again. My head is sadly confused. I mistook the directions he gave me. I took the turning that leads to the house. Nobody saw me. If I could but get out of the park! Do you know the way, sir?

Fosco (eyeing her attentively). I can easily find it out for you from one of the servants.

Anne. No, no! don't speak of me to anybody at the house. Ah!

(She puts her hand to her heart, with a cry of pain.)

Fosco (placing a chair for her). Don't agitate yourself. Have you a pain at the heart? Pardon me; I am something of a doctor; you look very ill. (He lays his hand on her pulse, and continues, aside.) The heart is worn out already. The woman is doomed!

Anne. You seem to be a kind-hearted gentleman, sir----

Fosco. My poor girl, you suffer! I overflow with kindness for poor girls who suffer.

[27]Anne. Could you tell me--(she pauses, shuddering)--is --is Sir Percival Glyde at the house?

Fosco (starting). Percival! What does Percival's name mean on those pale lips? (To ANNE, paternally.) I believe Sir Percival Glyde has arrived.

Anne. It was his voice I heard! (She seizes FOSCO by the arm in a paroxysm of terror.) Hide me from him! hide me from him!

Fosco (insinuatingly). Hide you? Why does Sir Percival frighten you in this way? Come, my poor girl, compose yourself, and tell me.

Anne. I daren't tell you. (She rises.) Don't keep me! I must find my way out of the park! (She starts, and points towards the door.) There's somebody coming. I'm certain of it this time. Oh, sir, don't let them take me away!

Fosco (looking at her in alarm, and speaking to himself). If I don't quiet her she will die on the spot! (To ANNE.) Nobody shall hurt you. I--your friend--promise it. (He looks round, and sees the door on the left.) This way! (He opens the door, and looks in.) An empty room. You will be safe there. Nobody shall pass the door. (ANNE goes in. He closes the door on her, returns to the middle of the room, and listens.) She was right. I hear voices. Two men coming this way. (Enter from the right, by the door at the back, two men, attendants at a lunatic asylum. FOSCO quietly addresses them.) What do you want here?

First Man. I beg your pardon, sir, do you happen to have seen a young woman wandering about by herself in the park? Dressed strangely, all in white?

Fosco (gravely). I have seen no woman in white.

First Man. If you should meet with her, sir, will you please to stop her, and send me word at that address?

(He places a card on the table.)

Fosco. Why am I to stop her? What has she done?

First Man. Done? She has escaped from my master's asylum. Please to remember, a woman in white. Good evening, sir.

(The two men touch their hats to FOSCO, and go out as they came in, on the right.

Fosco (alone). She has escaped from a lunatic asylum, [28]and she shudders with terror if Percival's name passes her lips. Plain conclusion, Percival has shut her up. And Percival has kept this episode in his life a secret from Me! Bad! bad! bad! My friend's interests are my interests. My friend's secrets must be my secrets too. (He produces a large scarlet porte-monnaie.) Here is my empty purse! It is the symbol of Percival's purse. Our prospects depend alike on his marrying Miss Fairlie. If I fail to find my way to the confidence of that woman in there--as certainly as the night is coming, she will be the ruin of us both!

(He approaches the door on the left. At the same moment, MISS HALCOMBE is heard, speaking in the park.)

Mar. (outside). This way, Sir Percival. We will look in at the Swiss summer-house first.

Fosco. Percival is coming! (He opens the door, and speaks rapidly into the room.) Courage! Stay where you are. Trust me!

(He closes the door again, locking it, and putting the key in his pocket, and gains the middle of the room just as SIR PERCIVAL GLIDE and MISS HALCOMBE enter from the left, by the door at the back.)

Sir P. Here he is! Fosco, your wife's in a state of distraction at your absence Where have you been?

Fosco. My good Percival, I have been losing my way in the park, nothing more.

(He bows to MISS HALCOMBE.)

Mar. (to FOSCO). Permit me, count, to introduce myself. I am Marian Halcombe, Miss Fairlie's half-sister. (She gives him her hand.) Welcome to Limmeridge House.

Fosco (lifting her hand to his lips). You are too good to me, Miss Halcombe!

Sir P. (roughly). That's more than I can say, Fosco. I am welcomed here by suspicion and mistrust. First, I find a hitch in the marriage settlements, a clause introduced by the family lawyer. Not a halfpenny of my wife's money is to go to me if my wife dies first. I remark to Miss Halcombe, here, that it's possible, in a matter of this kind, to be too hard on a man----

Mar. (to FOSCO). And I remark to Sir Percival that it [29]is not possible to be too hard on a man who marries for money.

Fosco. Well answered, Miss Halcombe. (Aside, looking at SIR PERCIVAL.) The idiot is doing his best to break off his own marriage!

Sir P. (continuing). And that's not the worst of it, mind! The next proposal made to me comes from Miss Fairlie herself. She coolly asks me--with the marriage settlement actually in the house--to release her from our engagement. I put it to you, Fosco, as a member of the family. I have been engaged to your wife's niece for two years, with the consent of the parents on both sides. Has Miss Fairlie any right to play fast and loose with me after that?

Fosco. My good friend, your tone is deplorable. Moderate it.

Sir P. Moderate it? I am deliberately kept out in the dark. I am sacrificed, for all I know, to a new fancy for some other man. When I ask Miss Fairlie for her reasons she hangs her head; and Miss Halcombe tells me to my face I have no right to put the question.

Mar. I deliberately repeat it, Sir Percival. You have no right to force yourself into my sister's confidence. Are we in the slave market at Constantinople? You talk as if Laura Fairlie was yours by right of purchase!

Sir P. (to FOSCO). You hear her, Fosco?

Fosco (sternly). I recommend you to be silent, Percival. I think Miss Halcombe is quite right. (Aside.) A fine woman, spirit, intelligence, courage!

Sir P. Oh, you agree with Miss Halcombe, do you? All right! Get that loan of money you want from somebody else. Don't ask me.

Fosco (to MISS HALCOMBE). Permit me to apologise for Percival's temper.

Mar. We will adjourn this family discussion, count. Madame Fosco is really uneasy at your absence. Let me show you the way to the house.

(She turns to lead the way out. At the same moment LAURA and MADAME FOSCO appear at the door at the back.)

Madame F. My dear count! I couldn't resist follow[30]ing Sir Percival and Miss Halcombe--I was so anxious about you!

Fosco (kissing her hand). My angel! It is worth while losing myself to hear that charming confession! (He takes a little gold box out of his pocket). Chocolate à la vanille. Have a bonbon?

Madame F. (continuing). My niece, Laura, was so kind as to come with me. Let me present you, count, to my niece.

(She indicates LAURA. The COUNT notices her for the first time.)

Fosco (starting back). That is Miss Fairlie!!!

Madame F. What is there to be surprised at?

Fosco (confusedly). Nothing, nothing! (He controls himself, bows to LAURA, and drawing back towards the door on the left, continues, aside.) The fugitive from the lunatic asylum over again! The double of the woman whom I have got hidden in here!

(His eyes remain fixed in astonishment on LAURA'S face. LAURA, who has entered the room with signs of agitation in her manner, bows to the COUNT without observing the effect which she has produced on him, and then turns to MARIAN, showing a letter in her hand. MADAME FOSCO remains near her husband at the side of the stage.)

Mar. Laura, you look agitated! Is there anything wrong?

Laura. Something very painful has happened since you and Sir Percival left us.

Mar. Something connected with that letter?

Laura. Yes; I owe it to Sir Percival not to delay one moment in telling him what this letter contains.

Sir P. (carelessly). Am I concerned in it?

Laura. You are seriously concerned in it. (SIR PERCIVAL draws back a step in surprise. A momentary pause. FOSCO, foreboding something wrong, changes his position, so as to place himself on one side of SIR PERCIVAL. LAURA continues.) I received the letter, not five minutes since, from the person who keeps the lodge gate. Take it, Sir Percival.

(She attempts to hand the letter to SIR PERCIVAL. MARIAN interposes.)

[31]Mar. (to LAURA). Does this refer, in any way, to your marriage engagement?

Laura. It warns me to pause before I fulfil my engagement.

Sir P. (in alarm). Miss Halcombe! that letter was not offered to you, but to me.

Fosco (aside to SIR PERCIVAL.) Hold your tongue!

Mar. (taking the letter from LAURA). Before I give it up, Sir Percival, I should be glad to know in what character you claim it. Laura has made an appeal to you to release her from her engagement. Do you ask me for the letter as Laura's affianced husband, or simply as a guest staying in the house?

Fosco (aside to SIR PERCIVAL). Mind what you are about!

Sir P. (to MARIAN). I ask for it as her affianced husband.

Fosco (turning away with a gesture of contempt). Bah!

Mar. (to SIR PERCIVAL). In that case, as Laura's relative and friend, I claim it first! Her father is dead--her uncle is in ill health--she has no one to defend her interests but me. I mean to defend them to the last! (She turns to LAURA.) Is the letter signed?

Laura. Yes.

Mar. Do you know the person who has written it?

Laura. I remember the person when we were both children. She interested my poor mother. (SIR PERCIVAL listens attentively.) By a strange accident, we were so like each other in those past times, that we were taken for twin-sisters.

(SIR PERCIVAL and FOSCO both start, recognising the person. MARIAN opens the letter.)

Mar. (to LAURA). May I read it aloud?

Laura. Certainly.

Mar. (to SIR PERCIVAL). I will take no undue advantage of you. I will read the letter in your presence. (She reads.) "MISS FAIRLIE,--It is reported that you are about to marry Sir Percival Glyde. Break off your engagement to him, or you will be making the misery of your whole future life. I can give you a reason--a terrible reason--for my intruding this advice on you, if you can first promise me protection from his vengeance. He has [32]already deprived me of my liberty. If he can lay hands on me, he will take my life next. Please write to me at the post-office, Carlisle. Your grateful servant, ANNE CATHERICK."--Sir Percival! these serious charges are signed by a person with whom my sister is acquainted. In justice to you, this matter must be cleared up.

Sir P. I court the fullest inquiry, Miss Halcombe. (Aside.) I shall catch her at Carlisle!

Mar. (aside to LAURA). I shall trace her through the post-office!

Fosco (aside). I have got her here!

The flat scene--which must not be placed further back than is absolutely necessary--represents a portion of the wall of SIR PERCIVAL GLYDE'S country-house; comprehending the ground-floor and the floor above it. Three of the windows on the upper floor must be practicable. The window of MADAME FOSCO'S room in the middle; the window of SIR PERCIVAL'S room on the (actor's) right; and the window of MISS HALCOMBE'S room on the left. All the windows look out on the sloping roof of an iron verandah, which shades the windows on the ground-floor. The light pillars which support the verandah are placed at wide distances apart, so as to allow space between them for the action of the scene. The largest room on the ground-floor is the drawing-room. COUNT FOSCO'S canaries are seen in their cage on a table in the room, which occupies a central position under the verandah. The window is made on the French plan, and is open to the ground. The lighted drawing-room is seen through the window, and is entered by a door at the back, opening into the interior of the house. On the space under the verandah, outside the drawing-room, are placed one or two chairs and a small table.

Next to the drawing-room (and divided from it by one of the pillars of the verandah) are the smaller French windows of the study--two in number. Both these windows are open. Before one of them is placed a sofa, with the head towards the centre of the stage. The second window serves as an entrance to the study, which, like the drawing-room, is lit up, and has a door at the back, In front of the verandah, the stage represents a lawn, with a gravel walk at one side. Some garden-chairs are placed [34]here and there. The entrances, right and left, at the side, are masked by shrubs and flowers. The time is night. A bright moonlight falls on the scene, and contrasts with the red light of the lamps in the drawing-room and the study.

At the rise of the curtain MISS HALCOMBE and LAURA (in evening dress) are seen in the drawing-room, LAURA being dressed entirely in white. They pass out under the verandah into the garden, and pace slowly backwards and forwards on the lawn while they speak.

Laura. It is so delightful, Marian, to see your face again! I can almost fancy myself back at Limmeridge in the dear old times.

Mar. (stopping, and looking at her). Laura! You have only been married a month to-day. Are you looking back longingly at the old life already?

Laura. Why not? The old life was the happy life!

Mar. Are you not happy now?

Laura. Quite happy, my dear, with you.

Mar. And with your husband?

Laura (changing the subject). How unbearable the heat is to-night. Not even a breath of air on the lawn!

Mar. Why don't you answer my question? Why are you silent about your married life?

Laura. The subject is so uninteresting, Marian. Will it do if I say I am resigned to my married life? There is no confidence between my husband and me. He is devoured by anxieties--money anxieties, I suspect--of which I know nothing. Have I answered your question? Need I say anything more?

Mar. Shut out from your husband's confidence? Resigned to your married life? Oh, my darling, I had hoped for something better than this!

Laura (bitterly). Nothing better was to be hoped, Marian. My future and Walter's future ended on the day when you told him he must go.

Mar. (stopping her). Laura! Laura! you must not think of Walter now!

Laura (passionately). Say I must not live! Say I must have a stone in the place of a heart! Don't say I mustn't think of him. You are a woman--you know I must. My [35]thoughts are my own! (She suddenly throws her arms round MARIAN'S neck.) Oh, Marian, it's an innocent interest, a sisterly interest, I feel in him now! Have you heard from him? I don't ask if he is happy--I only ask if you have heard from him?

Mar. Promise me this shall be the first and last time you speak of him!

Laura (sadly). Yes.

Mar. He has tried to obtain the post of draughtsman to a foreign expedition, and has failed. He has asked for my interest to help him in obtaining some other employment out of England. I am exerting my interest. I can tell you no more.

Laura (to herself). Out of England! Far, far away from me. Ah, I understand him!

Mar. (changing the subject). Come! you must have something to tell me since we parted. How did the time pass in the Isle of Wight?

Laura (absently). We had some pleasant sailing. A friend of Sir Percival's lent him a yacht.

Mar. (aside). Sir Percival! (To LAURA.) Did you meet with any friends of ours?

Laura. One or two.

Mar. Any news?

Laura. None worth repeating.

Mar. No news of Anne Catherick?

Laura (rousing herself, and showing some interest). The very question I was going to ask you! Have you heard nothing?

Mar. Nothing whatever.

Laura. Isn't it strange? I wrote to the post-office, Carlisle. My letter remains unclaimed. You went to Carlisle to inquire, and nothing came of it. Even the people at the asylum have failed to find a trace of her since. What does it mean?

Mar. Somebody must be interested in concealing her. I can think of no better explanation than that.

Laura (whispering). You don't suspect Sir Percival----

Mar. Certainly not! The proprietor of the asylum--a perfectly respectable man--certified that the poor creature was mad. Mrs. Catherick declared Sir Percival's interest in her daughter to be a purely charitable interest, and Sir [36]Percival's conduct in placing Anne in the asylum to be such as to merit her sincerest gratitude. Your husband's innocence in that matter was established, Laura, or you would never have been his wife.

Laura (thoughtfully). Somebody interested in concealing her? Who can the person be?

Mar. Patience, my dear! Time will show.

(FOSCO and MADAME FOSCO enter the drawing-room and approach the table on which the birdcage is placed. FOSCO addresses the birds. LAURA starts and draws MARIAN aside at the first sound of his voice.)

Fosco. Ha! my small chirruping children, my pretty little feathered family. Are you awake still? Fie! fie! my babies. Go to bed! go to bed!

Laura. Come this way, Marian. Don't let the count see us!

Mar. Why not?

Laura. I hate him!

Fosco (to the birds). Won't you go to sleep? Come out then, my pret-pret-pretties, and perform for Madame Fosco. (He opens the cage, and takes out two of the birds.) Now go up-stairs, one at a time! (The birds hop up the outstretched fingers of one of his hands, and perch together on his thumb.) Now sing to Madame Fosco--sing! sing! sing!--till you burst your throats! (The birds sing. FOSCO applauds them as if he was at the opera.) Bravi! bra-bra-bra! Now kiss your good papa! (He lifts the birds' beaks to his lips.) Now go and pay your visit to Madame Fosco--a visit of affection to good mamma!

(He makes the birds repeat their performances on MADAME FOSCO'S fingers, while the dialogue proceeds between LAURA and MARIAN. The birds end by perching at the word of command on MADAME FOSCO'S head. FOSCO'S gestures show the interest of a child in the exhibition.)

Laura. Odious old wretch! Do you hear him, Marian, with his canaries? Those birds are imps--and the count is the demon who commands them.

Mar. Hush! hush!

Laura. I can't endure the count. He has come here--[37]you may rely upon it--about those money difficulties that I spoke of just now.

Mar. My dear! to-morrow is the first of September. Isn't it far more likely Count Fosco has come here for the shooting?

Laura. Not he! He has just taken a furnished house in St. John's Wood. I heard him say to Sir Percival that it was very inconvenient to him to leave London at this time. There are strange stories afloat, Marian, about the count. Among those friends of ours whom I met in the Isle of Wight, one was my cousin, the Queen's messenger, just back from Vienna. Sir Percival happened to mention Count Fosco's name in his hearing, and what do you think my cousin said?

Mar. (looking nervously towards the drawing-room). Don't repeat gossip, Laura! Don't listen to scandal!

Laura. Scandal at Vienna, and gossip in London, say--in certain diplomatic circles--that the count is a Spy.

Mar. For Heaven's sake, be careful what you say of the count! I wouldn't have him your enemy or mine for the whole world. (She looks towards the drawing-room, and sees FOSCO putting the birds back in the cage.) Hush! Meet him civilly if he comes out into the garden.

Fosco (taking a gaudy silk handkerchief from his pocket and covering the cage with it.) The performance is over--the curtain falls! (To MADAME FOSCO.) How good you are, my angel, to indulge me in these follies of mine! I am nothing but a great big child, dressed up to look like a man. (He gives MADAME FOSCO his arm.) See the lovely moonlight in the garden! Madame Fosco, I invite you to enjoy it! (He leads MADAME FOSCO out, and sees LAURA and MARIAN.) Ah! the one thing wanted to complete the picture--the two dear ladies.

(He drops his wife's arm and advances towards MARIAN.)

Laura (making an excuse to get out of his way). The heat quite overpowers me, Marian. I must rest a little on the sofa.

(She lies down on the sofa under the verandah, and sinks into slumber as the dialogue proceeds. A ray of moonlight falls on her face and bosom.)

Fosco (to MARIAN, waving his hand over the scene). The [38]earth sleeping spell-bound in the stillness of the night! What unwritten poetry is above us and around us at this moment! You feel it--I feel it. Dear lady, there is communion of soul between us. I am so happy!

(He lifts MARIAN'S hand to his lips. MADAME FOSCO, who has watched the COUNT jealously from the moment when he approached MARIAN, interferes.)

Madame F. Pardon me, count, your foreign familiarities are not understood by Englishwomen.

Fosco. Pardon me, my angel. (He kisses his wife's hand.) The best and dearest Englishwoman in the world understands them! (Producing his sweetmeat-box.) Chocolate à la vanille. Have a bonbon! (He puts back the box, and then notices LAURA on the sofa.) Ah, look! (He points to LAURA. The orchestra marks the situation, which has its purpose later in the act, by low music played while FOSCO and MARIAN speak their next words.) What a charming picture! What modest grace in the repose of the limbs! What tender brightness in the light on her face and bosom! (He takes MARIAN'S hand again.) How shall we describe her, Miss Halcombe? (MARIAN can neither answer nor move. She can only look at him and listen.) The Sleeping Beauty of the old story. Titania, the fairy queen of your illustrious Shakspeare. The guardian angel of the house, dreaming good dreams of heaven. The dear, the interesting, the beautiful Lady Glyde. Ah, what a loss for Percival! Why does he not see her as we see her now?

Mar. Let me go, count! (She snatches her hand away--draws back from him--and continues aside.) What spell is there in his touch? What influence is there in his voice? He has set me trembling from head to foot!

(The music ceases. FOSCO attempts to join MARIAN. MADAME FOSCO interposes once more.)

Madame F. (bitterly). You appear to forget, count, that I am here!

Fosco (carried away by his enthusiasm). Madame Fosco! you are down on the earth. I am up in the clouds. My soul soars above the trivial domestic details of life. I am drinking deep draughts of beauty in this intoxicating garden. Lift yourself to my elevation! Drink with me! [39](MADAME FOSCO attempts to answer. The COUNT speaks aside to her in a suddenly altered tone.) Silence, madam! Are you master or am I? (He looks sternly at his wife.)

Madame F. (humbly). You are master.

(Her head drops. She stands submissive and trembling before her husband. MARIAN observes the scene with astonishment.)

Mar. (aside). He can tame anything--the gentlest and the fiercest creatures alike! The canaries obey him in the drawing-room. The jealous woman obeys him here! (MADAME FOSCO turns to leave the garden. MARIAN advances to stop her.) I can't be left alone with him! (She addresses MADAME FOSCO.) Madame Fosco, the count spoke of Sir Percival just now. Do you know where he is?

Madame F. Sir Percival is engaged, Miss Halcombe. His lawyer has unexpectedly arrived from London.

(LAURA rouses herself on the sofa, and looks towards MARIAN.)

Mar. (aside). Is there anything wrong?

Fosco (interpreting her thoughts). Yes, Miss Halcombe, there is something wrong.

Mar. (resenting his interference). I asked no questions, count. I don't understand you. (LAURA raises herself on the sofa, and looks towards them. MARIAN joins her.) Have you rested? What do you say to a stroll in the garden?

(LAURA rises. They go out together on the right.)

Madame F. (humbly). Am I pardoned, count?

Fosco (giving her his hand). For the future, respect me in my moments of exaltation. In those moments I forget my anxieties--I breathe freely once more.

Madame F. Can I do nothing to relieve your anxieties? I have been of some use to you in the past. Remember when we were alone with Anne Catherick in the summer-house at Limmeridge! I helped you to tempt her into revealing Sir Percival's secret. I hid her from discovery by Sir Percival and Miss Halcombe, who were both looking for her. Are you still anxious about Anne?

Fosco. I have no fear about Anne. She is in hands that I can trust--she is safely hidden in London. My anxieties are all centred in this house. I see clouds rising on the [40]domestic horizon. I see a coming collision of interests between Miss Halcombe and Me.

Madame F. (satirically). Is Count Fosco afraid of Miss Halcombe?

Fosco (aside, taking a turn on the lawn). Count Fosco is afraid of himself! Magnificent Marian, at the ripe age of sixty I adore you with the volcanic ardour of eighteen! All the gold of my rich nature is poured out at your feet. Alas for my wife! My wife gets nothing but the shillings and the pennies!

Madame F. (following FOSCO). Relieve my suspense! You see clouds rising in the domestic horizon. What do you mean?

(SIR PERCIVAL opens the study door, with a paper in his hand.)

Sir P. (calling from the study). Fosco! where are you?

Fosco (to MADAME FOSCO). You hear that voice? Percival shall tell you what I mean. (He turns towards the house and calls back.) Here--in the garden.

(SIR PERCIVAL advances into the garden.)

Sir P. There's no time, Fosco, for preparing my wife's mind. (He holds up the paper.) She must sign this tonight. The lawyer must have the money before the end of the week.

Fosco (to his wife). Are you answered? (To SIR PERCIVAL.) Can I see the lawyer?

Sir P. He has just gone. He was obliged to get back to London to-night. The deed, signed and witnessed, must follow him the first thing to-morrow. Where is Lady Glyde?

Madame F. Lady Glyde is walking in the garden with Miss Halcombe. Shall I go and find her?

Sir P. I shall be much obliged to you if you will.

(MADAME FOSCO goes out on the right.)

Fosco. How much money is it?

Sir P. Six thousand pounds. (FOSCO starts.) Five thousand for my pressing debts. And one thousand as a loan to you. Ain't I the best friend you ever had in your life?

Fosco. My best friend, tell me one thing. What does Lady Glyde do in signing that paper?

[41]Sir P. She authorises her trustees to sell out six thousand pounds of her money. I must have two witnesses. You will be one, and I shall ask Miss Halcombe to be the other.

Fosco (startled). Miss Halcombe! (He considers for a moment.) No; any way Lady Glyde would have Miss Halcombe to advise her.

Sir P. She won't have anything of the sort. I shan't allow either of them to read what is written here. I shall give them the folded deed to sign, and there will be an end of it. How cursedly hot it is! Come into the house and have a cool drink!

Fosco (thoughtfully). I will wait for you here. (SIR PERCIVAL goes back into the house by way of the study. FOSCO continues, alone.) My good friend Percival, as the English say, you see no further than your nose! Even if Lady Glyde is foolish enough to sign blindly when she is asked, there is Miss Halcombe to advise her to read first!

Enter MADAME FOSCO on the right, hurriedly, and in agitation.

Madame F. Count! you told me just now that you felt no anxiety about Anne Catherick.

Fosco. Well?

Madame F. She has done what I always feared she would do. She has discovered that Laura is married to Sir Percival Glyde. She has escaped from those hands that you were so sure of. She has found her way here.

Fosco (thunderstruck). Are you out of your mind?

Madame F. Not five minutes since I surprised her, in close conversation with Laura and Miss Halcombe, in the garden!

Fosco (bursting out in his own language). Maledizione! (He pauses a moment to control himself.) It is over--I am myself again. Did they meet by appointment?

Madame F. No. Anne Catherick had ventured into the grounds on the chance of seeing them this fine summer night.

Fosco. What did you do when you discovered them?

Madame F. I stepped behind a tree.

[42]Fosco. Admirable woman! Did Anne mention my name?

Madame F. She mentioned both our names. She expressed surprise at our having left her to discover the marriage by chance----

Fosco. Did she express distrust as well as surprise?

Madame F. No. The favourable impression we have produced on her still maintains its hold on her mind. Her one idea, so far, is the idea of serving the interests of my niece.

Fosco. What did she say? Repeat her own words, if you can.

Madame F. She said to Laura: "If you are living in misery with the villain you have married, I have only to say the word, and the law will take him!"

Fosco (wiping his forehead). We are on the brink of the precipice! Who spoke next? Miss Halcombe, of course. What did she say?

Madame F. She said it was not safe to prolong the conversation at that time and in that place. She asked for Anne Catherick's address----

Fosco. And Anne gave it?

Madame F. At a neighbouring farm-house, called Todd's Corner. She described the people as old friends of hers. Miss Halcombe promised to see her to-morrow.

Fosco. And on that they parted? My course is clear before me. I must get the start of Miss Halcombe. (He produces his pocket-book, tears out a leaf, writes on it, and hands it to his wife.) See! a note written in Miss Halcombe's name! She has changed her mind. She makes an appointment with Anne to-night--there, in the shrubbery--(he points off on the left)--at eleven o'clock. I must secure her, before she does more mischief. Stop! Does Anne still dress in white?

Madame F. She wears a brown cloak over her white dress, with a hood to it to pull over her face.

Fosco. Good! She will not be noticed on her way here. Direct my note to Anne Catherick, and send a servant with it to Todd's Corner. (MADAME FOSCO goes out through the drawing-room. FOSCO takes a turn on the stage, and continues.) There were two difficulties to meet in this matter of Anne--to keep her from discovering the [43]marriage, and to keep her from taking Miss Halcombe into her confidence. Could I confide her once more to the doctor at the asylum? The doctor had already let her escape. What else could I do but place her in the hands of my own people, and trust to the progress of her fatal malady to relieve us of the charge of her? Am I to blame for the stupidity of my people? Bah! who is capable of preventing accidents and contending with fools!

Enter LAURA and MARIAN on the right. MARIAN speaks in a whisper to LAURA, pointing to FOSCO, who stands with his back towards them.

Mar. If the count discovers that we have seen Anne, we are lost--remember that! (She advances and addresses FOSCO.) Still admiring the moonlight, count?

Fosco (turning). Ah! the dear ladies. How good of you to pity the solitary Fosco, and come back to him again! (He looks searchingly at MARIAN.) Any adventures in the garden, Miss Halcombe?

Mar. The age of adventures, count, is past!

(She turns away to LAURA.)

Fosco (admiring her). Superb creature! I could not have put a better face upon it myself!

(He turns away on his side. MADAME FOSCO reappears in the drawing-room. MARIAN walks apart slowly with LAURA, warning her once more.)

Mar. Be careful, Laura. He suspects something already!

Fosco (on the other side of the stage, addressing his wife, who has joined him). Is it done?

Madame F. The servant has gone.

(SIR PERCIVAL appears in the study, and advances to the lawn.)

Fosco. Did anybody see you give him the letter?

Madame F. Nobody.

Sir P. (looking about him). Where are they? Oh, here you are. Lady Glyde, I am afraid I must trouble you about a little matter of business. Miss Halcombe, I want you to witness my wife's signature, if you will be so kind. Fosco will be the other witness.

Laura. Will it take long? It is so hot in the house!

Sir P. It won't take a minute. I'll bring out one of [44]the lamps, and we will do it under the verandah. You have only to sign your names here.

(He holds out the deed, so folded as only to show the blank space left for the signature.)

Mar. (to LAURA). Ask him to unfold the paper.

Fosco (overhearing her). Exactly as I thought!

Laura (to SIR PERCIVAL). The paper is folded, Sir Percival. I suppose you will allow me to see what it contains?

Sir P. It contains nothing but lawyer's gibberish. You wouldn't understand it if I was to show it to you.

Laura. I might try to understand it.

Sir P. Mere waste of time!

Mar. (aside to LAURA). Don't give way!

Laura (to SIR PERCIVAL). I suppose my signature pledges me to something? Surely I ought to know what it is. Ask Marian.

Sir P. No appeals to Miss Halcombe! Miss Halcombe has nothing to do with the matter.

Fosco (at SIR PERCIVAL'S ear). Gently!

Mar. I beg your pardon, Sir Percival. As one of the witnesses, I have something to do with the matter. I decline the responsibility of witnessing Laura's signature, unless she first reads what you wish her to sign.

Sir P. (breaking out). A cool declaration, upon my soul! The next time you invite yourself to a man's house, Miss Halcombe, don't repay his hospitality by siding against him with his wife!

Mar. (indignantly). Sir Percival!!! (She suddenly controls herself.) No! Laura needs me!

(LAURA gratefully embraces MARIAN. FOSCO lays his hand on SIR PERCIVAL'S shoulder, and whispers to him.)

Fosco. If I could cut your tongue out, I would do it!

Sir P. (shaking FOSCO'S hand off his shoulder). Take your hand off! (To LAURA.) Come into the house and sign!

Mar. (to LAURA). Sign nothing, unless you have read it first.

Sir P. (violently). Come into the house and sign.

(He attempts to seize LAURA'S arm. MARIAN draws [45]her back out of his reach, and stands between them. FOSCO beckons to his wife.)

Fosco. Eleanor! (MADAME FOSCO approaches.) You have not spoken yet. Let us see if your interference will bring Percival to his senses.

Sir P. Madame Fosco knows better than to interfere with a man in his own house.

Madame F. I don't presume to interfere, Sir Percival. I merely decline, with my husband's permission, to remain in any house in which ladies are treated as your wife and Miss Halcombe have been treated to-night.

Fosco (admiring his wife). Madame Fosco is sublime! (He produces his box of bonbons.) My angel! have a bonbon.

Sir P. (cowed). Are you all in a conspiracy to bully me? It's no part of a woman's duty, Madame Fosco, to set her husband's wishes at defiance.

Laura (quietly). I am doing nothing of the sort. I am only claiming what is due to my own self-respect.

Sir P. (losing his temper once more). Your self-respect! The less you say about that the better. Where was your self-respect when you fell in love with another man while you were engaged to me?

Laura (resenting the insult). I refuse to sign that paper until I have read every line in it from beginning to end.

(She turns her back on him, and goes out by the drawing-room. SIR PERCIVAL attempts to stop her. FOSCO seizes him by the arm, and calls to MARIAN, who is about to follow LAURA into the house.)

Fosco. Stop, Miss Halcombe! (He sternly addresses SIR PERCIVAL.) Enough for to-night! Put off the signing till to-morrow.

Sir P. (trying to free himself). Go to the devil!

Fosco. Put off the signing till to-morrow!

Sir P. You're taking a tone that I won't submit to from any man.

Fosco. Submit to lock that paper up for to-night, or Madame Fosco and I leave the house!

Sir P. Are you picking a quarrel with me?

Fosco. I am waiting for an answer. Is it Yes or No?

(A pause. The two men look at each other. SIR PERCIVAL gives way. FOSCO smiles, releases him, [46]and points to the study. SIR PERCIVAL withdraws, and is seen to lock the paper up in a cabinet in the study. He remains in the room waiting. FOSCO turns to MARIAN with a bow of the deepest respect.)

Fosco. Percival shall not break out to-morrow, Miss Halcombe, as he has broken out to-night. Be kind enough to say this for me, with my respectful compliments, to Lady Glyde. (He addresses his wife.) Bah! the skirmish was hot while it lasted! Give me a cigarette.

(They walk aside, and seat themselves on two of the garden-chairs. The COUNT lights his cigarette. MARIAN remains alone absorbed in her own thoughts.)

Mar. (to herself). The sacrifice demanded of Laura, if she signs the paper, is too plain to be mistaken. I must communicate with her lawyer--I must appeal to her guardian. So far, I see my duty to her plainly. But what lies beyond? What terrible discovery is waiting for us when I see Anne Catherick to-morrow?

(She enters the house by way of the drawing-room.)

Fosco (to MADAME FOSCO, pointing to MARIAN'S window on the first-floor of the house). Miss Halcombe's room is next to yours, is it not?

Madame F. The second window on the left.

Fosco (rising). When the house is quiet, I have something serious to say to Percival. Keep a watch on Miss Halcombe. She is bold enough to steal down-stairs and listen. (He picks up some pebbles from the garden walk.) Throw one of these little stones out of your window if Miss Halcombe leaves her room.

(He signs to MADAME FOSCO to go. She enters the house by the drawing-room. SIR PERCIVAL shows himself at the study window.)

Sir P. Fosco!

Fosco (approaching him). What is it?

Sir P. I am waiting for an explanation of your conduct to-night.

(A light appears in MISS HALCOMBE'S window, the blind of which is drawn down. FOSCO sees it.)

Fosco (with his eye on the window). You shall have your explanation.

[47]Sir P. When?

Fosco. In a minute or two.

(A footman appears in the drawing-room with a tray containing bottles and glasses. He sets the tray on the table. SIR PERCIVAL enters the drawing-room, and, signing to the servant to go out, mixes himself a glass of spirits-and-water. A brief pause. FOSCO remains on the lawn looking at the window.)

Sir P. (calling to FOSCO). Will you take anything?

Fosco. A glass of sugar-and-water.

Sir P. Sugar-and-water for a man of your age!

(FOSCO joins SIR PERCIVAL in the drawing-room. The light in MARIAN'S window is extinguished at the same moment. FOSCO seats himself opposite to SIR PERCIVAL at the table, mixing his sugar-and-water, and talking in dumb show. MARIAN appears, drawing up the blind at the window. She speaks as if addressing some one in her room.)

Mar. Wait! Don't show yourself yet. (She stretches her head out of the window and looks round.) Nobody in the garden--all quiet.

(LAURA appears at the window at MARIAN'S side; the dialogue between them is pitched in a low tone.)

Laura. What are you going to do?

Mar. Before I leave you to-morrow, I am going to discover all I can to-night.

Laura. Must you go?

Mar. The one chance for us is for me to see your lawyer at once, and to take Anne Catherick with me to London. I shall get away to-morrow, before the servants are up.

Laura. When shall you come back?

Mar. Courage, Laura! I shall be back before night.

Laura. I have dreadful presentiments, Marian. Run no risks!

Mar. Never fear! (LAURA disappears.) If the heat drives them out under the verandah, shall I hear what they say? I'll wait, and try.

(FOSCO rises in the drawing-room.)

Fosco. Suppose I explain myself outside--in the air?

Sir P. With all my heart. I'm suffocating here. (FOSCO goes out under the verandah with his glass of [48]sugar-and-water, and seats himself on one side of the little round table, exactly under his wife's window. SIR PERCIVAL remains behind a moment to replenish his glass.)

Fosco (to himself). If the stone falls, I shall hear it now!

(SIR PERCIVAL joins FOSCO at the other side of the table.)

Sir P. Well?

Fosco. Listen, Percival! You are a rich man by marriage. You would never have been that rich man, but for me.

Sir P. You?

Fosco. If Anne Catherick had opened her lips at Limmeridge, you would have been dismissed the house. I kept her out of the way. And I mean to reap the benefit of your profitable marriage.

Sir P. You have seen Anne Catherick?

Fosco. I have seen her.

Sir P. (rising threateningly). You have questioned Anne Catherick?

Fosco. Stoop down! Even the birds in their nests must not hear this. (He pulls SIR PERCIVAL playfully towards him, and whispers in his ear. SIR PERCIVAL draws back panic-stricken. FOSCO continues as calm as ever.) I know no more. I have discovered that you destroyed the register. Why you destroyed it, Anne could not tell me. Do you ask me as your friend not to inquire?

Sir P. What's the use of asking? You'll set your trap, and find it out somehow.

Fosco (with genuine indignation). Percival! Percival! Do you know me no better than that? I am a man of the antique type. My conception of friendship is sublime. Ask me, as your friend, to trample my curiosity under my foot. (He rises and stamps on the ground.) See! it is done. I, who could draw your inmost mind into daylight as I draw my two fingers out of the palm of my hand--I have no curiosity left. My exalted sentiments lift me above it. Recognise them, Percival! imitate them, Percival! Shake hands. I forgive you.

Sir P. Are you cool again?

Fosco. Go on.

[49]Sir P. Where is Anne Catherick now?

Fosco. In this neighbourhood. And in private communication with your wife.

Sir P. What!!!

Fosco. There is no harm done yet. I have arranged to lay my hand on her to-night. To-morrow we will consult what to do with her next. In the mean time the business of the money presses. Percival! in spite of all that I could do to prevent you, you have insulted your wife. And, worse still, you have put Miss Halcombe on her guard.

Sir P. (contemptuously). Miss Halcombe!

Fosco. Yes! that grand creature--I drink her health in my sugar-and-water--that grand creature, who stands firm as a rock between us two, and that poor, pretty, flimsy, blonde wife of yours, sees into your inmost mind as I see into it! With that woman for my enemy, I-- Fosco--cunning as the devil himself--I walk, in your English phrase, upon eggshells. And you set her at defiance!--you drive her to extremities!--you, who have not a tenth part of her brains, or a fiftieth part of her courage! Bah! let us get back to business. It's useless to ask your wife to sign the deed as soon as to-morrow. Can you raise the money in no other way?

Sir P. I can raise the money by bills at two months. But, when the bills fall due----

Fosco. I see. Now, or in two months the money must be found,

Sir P. That's it.

(He empties his glass and returns into the drawing-room to fill it again. FOSCO sits thinking. MARIAN speaks at the window.)

Mar. Nothing reaches me but a word here and there. The study window is open. I could hear them from the study. Shall I risk it?

(She stands hesitating. FOSCO speaks to SIR PERCIVAL, who is still in the drawing-room.)

Fosco. Percival!

Sir P. (returning to the verandah). What is it?

Fosco. There was a serious discussion at Limmeridge House about your wife's marriage portion, and how much [50]of it, if a certain event happened, was to go to you. How did that discussion end?

Sir P. That's no business of yours.

Fosco (suddenly lowering his voice). Suppose your wife dies?

Sir P. Drop it, Fosco! you make my flesh creep.

Fosco. Does flesh mean conscience? I will put my question in another way. Suppose you outlive Lady Glyde, how much of her marriage portion goes to you?

Sir P. Only half of it. Thirty thousand pounds.

Fosco. Thirty thousand pounds! You take my breath away.

Sir P. None of your humbug. You get something too.

Fosco. I!

Sir P. Your wife, or you--it comes to the same thing. Madame Fosco gets ten thousand pounds under her brother's will, if she outlives her niece.

(MARIAN speaks at the window.)

Mar. I will risk it!

(She disappears.)

Fosco (snapping his fingers). Bah! I am quite easy about our money matters. We have two months to turn ourselves round in. Give yourself time to make your peace with Lady Glyde, and raise the money on the bills.

Sir P. How is the money to be paid?

(MADAME FOSCO appears at her window.)

Fosco. In one of two ways. If your wife lives, you pay with her signature to the deed. If your wife dies, you pay with her death.

(MADAME FOSCO throws the pebble out of her window.)

Sir P. (starting). What's that?

Fosco (aside). The signal! (To SIR PERCIVAL.) Something has fallen from the verandah. (MARIAN appears in the study, closing the door of the room after her. FOSCO continues) Is your position towards your wife quite plain to you now?

Sir P. No more of that, Fosco! I won't have it.

Mar. (listening behind the study window). I can hear every word plainly!

Sir P. Come back to the other subject. I'm uneasy about Anne Catherick. You talk confidently enough about laying you hand on her. (MARIAN starts.) How do you mean to do it?

[51]Fosco. You shall hear. Give me a moment to fill my glass again.

(He makes a sign to SIR PERCIVAL to be silent, goes into the drawing-room, opens the door of the room, and looks about the passage; disappears, and reappears again the next moment, opening the study door, and surprising MISS HALCOMBE, who turns at the sound and finds herself face to face with him.)

Fosco. Miss Halcombe! I beg ten thousand pardons. Were you looking for a book?

(MARIAN stands speechless. SIR PERCIVAL, alarmed, enters the study from the verandah.)

Sir P. Miss Halcombe! What's the meaning of this?

Mar. (recovering herself). I was not aware, Sir Percival, that your library was closed to ladies before the lights are put out. I won't trouble you for the book, count.

(She leaves the room, FOSCO opening the door for her with a low bow.)

Sir P. Fosco!

Fosco (coolly). Yes?

Sir P. Miss Halcombe was listening--Miss Halcombe has heard us!

Fosco. Bah! they all listen. She has heard nothing to hurt.

Sir P. I am not so sure of that. Where is she now? I shall go up-stairs and satisfy myself that she's in her own room.

Fosco (shrugging his shoulders). Do as you like. We have no more to say to each other to-night. (SIR PERCIVAL goes out by the drawing-room. FOSCO looks at his watch. ANNE CATHERICK, wearing her brown cloak and hood over her white dress, appears at the side, on the left, and stops timidly. FOSCO continues.) Eleven o'clock! I have just got him out of the way in time!

(He turns to leave the verandah. He and ANNE meet. ANNE utters a cry of alarm.)

Fosco. Hush! hush! my good girl. It's only me--your big, fat friend.

Anne. I didn't come here to see you.

Fosco. You came here to see Miss Halcombe. I will take you to Miss Halcombe.

(He draws her under the verandah. At the same [52]moment SIR PERCIVAL puts his head out of his own window, next to MADAME FOSCO'S, on the right, and calls down to FOSCO.)

Sir P. Fosco!

Anne (to herself). Sir Percival!

(As the exclamation passes her lips she falls swooning into FOSCO'S arms. FOSCO carries her to the sofa on which LADY GLYDE has rested earlier in the Act.)

Fosco (to himself). Fainting? Fainting may mean death, with such a malady as hers!

(He removes her cloak, lays her on the sofa, and places his hand on her heart.)

Sir P. (at the window). Where are you?

Fosco. Here!

Sir P. Miss Halcombe is with my wife--in my wife's room. What does it mean?

Fosco. Stop up-stairs. I'll join you directly.

(SIR PERCIVAL leaves the window. FOSCO again occupies himself with ANNE.)

Fosco. I can just feel the heart. A fainting fit, nothing more. (He picks up ANNE'S cloak, and draws back a little, looking at her. She lies exactly in the same position which LADY GLYDE assumed when she rested on the sofa. The moonlight falls in the same way on her face and bosom. The orchestra plays the same music which it played while LADY GLYDE was reclining. FOSCO is struck by the resemblance.) The likeness is wonderful! I can hardly believe that Percival's wife is in her own room. Lady Glyde herself. (He suddenly throws up both hands above his head, and rushes out on the lawn. An irrepressible cry bursts from him.) Oh! what a thought!

(SIR PERCIVAL opens the drawing-room door. FOSCO hears him, hurries back under the verandah, and throws the cloak over ANNE so as to conceal her.)

Sir P. (advancing from the drawing-room). What are you about? I'm tired of waiting for you.

Fosco (wildly). Come out here!

(He seizes SIR PERCIVAL by the arm, and drags him out on to the lawn, without allowing him to see anything. They stand with their backs to the verandah. [53]FOSCO, in a fever of excitement, still holding SIR PERCIVAL by the arm.)

Sir P. Are you mad?

Fosco. I am paralysed by the grandeur of my own discovery! I am frantic with the frenzy of my own thought! The money, Percival, the money. The thirty thousand and the ten thousand are yours and mine!

Sir P. (shrinking back). By Jupiter! he is mad!

Fosco. Listen! Lady Glyde shall die, in the belief of all the world, and shall, nevertheless, be a living woman, known only to our two selves! (SIR PERCIVAL attempts to speak.) Wait! you don't see it yet. You know the likeness between your wife and Anne? You know that Anne's life hangs by a thread? Follow me from those two points. When Anne dies, she shall die--before all the witnesses--in your wife's clothes, under your wife's name. (SIR PERCIVAL attempts to speak again.) Yes! yes! I know. Where is Lady Glyde all this time? Lady Glyde is in the lunatic asylum, in Anne Catherick's clothes, under Anne Catherick's name. Doctors, nurses, servants, we make innocent accomplices of them all! We bury Anne Catherick as Lady Glyde--we destroy your wife's identity for ever--and the thirty thousand and the ten are yours and mine!

Sir P. (bewildered). Give me time to breathe. How is it to be done? Where is Anne Catherick?

Fosco. Stay where you are! (He hurries back under the verandah.) Look!

(He snatches the cloak off ANNE, and points to her with a gesture of triumph. The orchestra resumes the air. SIR PERCIVAL stands petrified.)

* In this Act, and in the Fourth Act, means must be employed to mark the lapse of time between the Scenes--either by dropping a Tableau-curtain, or by a brief pause (filled up by appropriate music) at the end of each Scene, before the change to the Scene that follows.

The gallery is hung with family portraits. Side entrances right and left. FOSCO is discovered lounging about the gallery looking at the pictures. SIR PERCIVAL enters on the right.

Sir P. I have been looking for you everywhere. What are you doing here?

Fosco. I am admiring the superb family portraits which adorn your gallery at Blackwater Park.

Sir P. (astonished). At such a time as this? With all you and I have got on our minds?

Fosco. That is exactly why I am here. I won't have this risk that we are going to run perpetually haunting my thoughts. Music, poetry, pictures, to these innocent sources I apply for relief. Invariably the relief comes.

Sir P. Are you in joke or in earnest?

Fosco. Is Punch in the show in joke or in earnest? I defy you to tell. My friend, I come of the illustrious nation which invented Punch! (He takes SIR PERCIVAL'S [55]arm.) Look at that glorious picture! Barbarous Englishman, let me teach you to admire Vandyck.

Sir P. Vandyck be hanged! We shall have Miss Halcombe here directly. What's the next move in the game?

Fosco. Where does the game stand now? Last night--August thirty-first--what happened?

Sir P. Anne Catherick passed the night in Madame Fosco's room.

Fosco. This morning--September first--what has happened? While the people at Todd's Corner are searching for their lost lodger; while Miss Halcombe is making her inquiries on her side--what has Madame Fosco done? Madame Fosco has slipped off to London with Anne Catherick. There is the history of events so far. Have you seen Lady Glyde this morning?

Sir P. Yes--and forced another quarrel on her, as you told me. If Miss Halcombe hears of it----

Fosco (looking off on the left). Here is Miss Halcombe, with your wife. If anything is said about Anne Catherick, leave it to me.

Enter MARIAN on the left, giving her arm to LAURA. MARIAN is flushed and angry. LAURA looks pale and worn, with the traces of weeping in her face.

Mar. Sir Percival! I have just discovered that the scene of last night has been repeated this morning. This must not, and shall not, go on!

Fosco (silencing SIR PERCIVAL). Exactly what I say!

Mar. (to SIR PERCIVAL). I tell you plainly, I shall appeal to Laura's guardian.

Fosco (as before). Exactly what I have done!

Mar. (turning on him). You?

Fosco (bowing). I--as member of the family by marriage. I have written to Mr. Fairlie to beg him to interfere. It was impossible, Miss Halcombe, to consult you first. The servants said you had gone out for a walk this morning. (With an insinuating smile.) Anywhere near Todd's Corner?

Mar. (aside to LAURA). He has discovered us! (She turns resolutely to FOSCO.) I have no motives for conceal[56]ment, count, on my side. I have been to Todd's Corner to inquire for Anne. She is lost.

Fosco. Pardon me--she is saved. Percival has sent her back to the asylum.

Mar. (with bitter contempt). Under Madame Fosco's care, count?

Fosco. Ah, Miss Halcombe! it is the privilege of your enchanting sex to rush to conclusions!

Laura (eagerly to FOSCO). What have you said to Mr. Fairlie?

Fosco. I have asked him to exert his influence, in the interests of peace. While the matter is in progress, I have proposed--with Percival's free consent--that, you shall pay a little visit to Limmeridge House.

Laura. Oh, I shall be so glad to do that!

Mar. (aside to LAURA). Wait! Don't commit yourself!

Fosco (to LAURA). You are not angry with me for what I have done?

Laura. Angry! I am sincerely obliged to you.

Fosco. You will be ready to go at a day's notice?

Mar. (silencing LAURA). Lady Glyde decides nothing, count, until she has had time to think. (To LAURA.) You are not fit to deal with him. Leave it to me.

(She forces LAURA to go out with her on the left.)

Fosco (in triumph). I have done it! Your wife will help us to get Miss Halcombe out of the house. Bravo, Fosco!

Sir P. I don't understand.

Fosco. You foggy-minded Percival! A man I can trust follows my letter to Cumberland to-night. He will telegraph to Miss Halcombe to-morrow, in Mr. Fairlie's name. Mr. Fairlie--represented by my man--will invite her to Limmeridge, to explain matters to him before he interferes between man and wife. If Miss Halcombe is unwilling to leave, Lady Glyde will force her to go. Neat, is it not? A man who can play his cards as well as that, deserves a reward. (He produces his box.) The man shall have it! (He takes a bonbon.) Ah! how nice!

Sir P. (aside). Sixty years old, and fond of sugar-plums. Disgusting! (To FOSCO.) Well! what next?

Fosco. This next. Miss Halcombe cannot possibly dis[57]cover the trick that has been played on her, and get back here, before midnight on the fourth of the month. By midnight on the fourth of the month---- Pass me one exclamation in parenthesis. How interesting this is!

Sir P. Go on!

Fosco. By midnight on the fourth, Lady Glyde will be in the lunatic asylum--under the name of Anne Catherick, restored to medical care.

Sir P. How do you manage that?

Fosco. I shall manage it. One thing at a time. Before I follow Madame Fosco to London, you must have your instructions what to do here, in my absence. I can't trust your memory. There are your instructions in writing!

(He hands a paper to SIR PERCIVAL.)

Sir P. (looking at it). What's this? "Intercept all letters and telegrams which come for Miss Halcombe--except mine. Clear the house of all the servants, except your valet, Philip, and his wife, whom we can trust." (Looking up bewildered.) Clear the house of the servants!

Fosco. Certainly! Under what name, and in what character, is Anne Catherick to be introduced into my house in London?

Sir P. In the name and character of Lady Glyde.

Fosco. Do we want witnesses here, who can testify that they saw Lady Glyde at Blackwater Park, at the very time when she is declared to have been with me in London? Attend to your instructions; and mind this--you don't think for yourself: I think for you. What time is it? (He looks at his watch.) I have an hour to spare before I start for London. How shall I pass the hour? Bah! I dismiss our conspiracy with this wave of my hand. There is nobody in the music-room. I shall go to the pianoforte, and sing and play, and lift myself into the seventh heaven of musical delight. (He stops at the picture on his way out.) Look at the painting of those shadows on the face. A miracle of art! Illustrious Vandyck, I congratulate you on those shadows! (He bows to the picture, and takes out his gilt box.) You look anxious, Percival. Have a bonbon. (SIR PERCIVAL declines with a gesture of disgust.) No? My friend, a taste for sweets is the innocent taste of women and children. I cultivate innocence!

[58](He helps himself to a mouthful of sweetmeats, and goes out on the right.)

Sir P. (alone). I have known Fosco for twenty years, and hang me if I can tell at this moment whether he's a tiger, a monkey, or a man!

(He follows FOSCO.)

A large open window in the flat, with nothing seen through it but the sky. A table, having writing materials placed on it. A chair. Pipes of various kinds are hung on the walls. Entrances at the side, right and left. SIR PERCIVAL is discovered seated, smoking, with an open letter in his hand. He touches a bell on the table. The valet, PHILIP, appears on the left.)

Sir P. Brandy-and-water, Philip. Stop! What is the day of the month?

Phil. The fourth, Sir Percival.

Sir P. Three days since Fosco left me! Is your wife on the look-out for telegrams to Lady Glyde?

Phil. Yes, Sir Percival. (He goes out on the left.)

Sir P. (taking up a letter). Awful news from Fosco! Anne Catherick died yesterday of heart disease, at his house in St. John's Wood. The doctor was called in to attend her under the name of "Lady Glyde." The doctor's certificate records the death of "Lady Glyde" in London, yesterday. And here is Lady Glyde still in Hampshire, a living woman! (He looks again at the letter.) In spite of what has happened, Fosco is determined to go on. My wife is to be decoyed to London by telegram to-day. Fosco meets her at the station--deludes her with the idea that she is going on to Cumberland--and places her in the asylum to-night, under Anne Catherick's name. (PHILLIP appears on the left, with a bottle of brandy, water, and a [59]glass.) Are you sure nothing has come for Lady Glyde?

Phil. Quite sure, Sir Percival.

(He goes out on the left. SIR PERCIVAL mixes his brandy-and-water.)

Sir P. I wish to Heaven I had said No, when Fosco first proposed to run this infernal risk. Haven't I got enough on my mind already? There is something wrong at Old Welmingham. Mrs. Catherick has twice written to me for money, and hasn't answered my last letter telling her she must wait. It would be like my luck if she turned against me just at this time. The heir-at-law is in England. The rector of Old Welmingham is a friend of his. If he and Mrs. Catherick meet---- (He pauses, and drinks.) It turns me cold to think of it!

Enter PHILIP, on the left.

Phil. A telegram, Sir Percival, for my lady.

Sir P. (taking it). Have you dismissed the messenger?

Phil. Yes, Sir Percival.

Sir P. Did anybody see him but you?

Phil. Nobody, Sir Percival.

(He goes out on the left. SIR PERCIVAL opens the telegram.)

Sir P. Fosco's telegram, written in Miss Halcombe's name! The decoy that is to lure my wife to London! (He reads.) "Marian Halcombe, Limmeridge, Cumberland, to Lady Glyde, Blackwater Park, Hampshire.--Mr. Fairlie will be happy to see you; and I am eager for your arrival. Travel as far as London on receipt of this. Pass the night at your aunt's house in St. John's Wood; and come on to us in Cumberland the next day. We have wronged the count by our suspicions of him. When you get to St. John's Wood, you will find he has been our best friend."--(SIR PERCIVAL speaks.) This infernal message is well-timed! Miss Halcombe cannot get back here before twelve to-night. If I send this to my wife, she will start for London to-day, by the two-forty train. Dare I send it? I must! (He puts the telegram back in the envelope, and strikes the bell. PHILIP enters on the left.) Take that to Lady Glyde. My apologies. I opened it by mistake. (PHILIP goes out. SIR PERCIVAL rises.) [60]I'm sending her straight on the road to the madhouse. I can't face her if she comes in to say good-bye. (He turns to the right to go out, and checks himself.) Stop! I must send the intercepted letters and telegrams to Fosco. He wants to read them.

(He unlocks a drawer of the writing-table, and takes out papers. As he sits down at the table to write, LAURA hurriedly enters on the left, with FOSCO'S telegram in her hand.)

Laura (joyfully). Have you read my telegram, Sir Percival?

Sir P. (not looking at her). No.

Laura (offering it to him). There it is. (SIR PERCIVAL silently puts it away. LAURA continues.) It's no secret--it's from Marian. I am to go to Limmeridge, and to leave for London to-day. Have you any objection?

Sir P. None.

Laura. I am to stop at my aunt's in St. John's Wood, and go on the next day. (She again offers him the telegram.) I wish you would read it. There's a sentence in it about Count Fosco----

Sir P. (violently). I don't want to hear about Count Fosco!

Laura (starting). I didn't mean to offend you.

Sir P. (with an effort). When are you going?

Laura (smiling). I must make a little confession. I have had my things packed since yesterday in expectation of going away. I could be ready at once--by the next train--if I knew how to get to it. But now the servants have all gone----

Sir P. Can't you walk to the station?

Laura. Willingly. I should enjoy the walk this lovely day. But my luggage----

Sir P. I will find some way of sending your luggage after you. It shall reach you by passenger-train to-night, Will that do?

Laura. Perfectly, thank you! (She turns to go out, and comes back to him.) We have not lived together happily, Percival. Let us part on friendly terms, and let us meet again with more forbearance on both sides. Will you say that you forgive me as heartily as I forgive you?

(She offers him her hand.)

[61]Sir P. (turning away). Don't talk nonsense! You'll miss the train. Go!

Laura (sadly). Good-bye, Sir Percival.

(She looks at him for a moment as he turns away from her--sighs--and goes out on the left.)

Sir P. (facing the room in violent agitation). It's an infernal shame! It's worse than killing her outright to shut her up in the asylum for the rest of her life. I'll call her back! (He takes a step towards the left, and checks himself.) It's too late to call her back: no help for it now but to go on to the end. What's to be done next? (He looks round him, and sees the papers on the table.) The intercepted letters! I'll write a line with them to Fosco. (He sits down and writes, repeating the words.) "Backwater Park, September fourth, eighteen hundred and sixty-two. DEAR FOSCO,--All has passed exactly as you wished. Lady Glyde starts for London to-day by the two-forty train. Yours, PERCIVAL GLYDE." (He puts the letter into an envelope, directs and stamps it, and calls off on the left.) Philip! (There is no answer. He strikes the bell. Nobody appears.) What's the meaning of this? Where can Philip be? Not a servant in the house to post my letter! (He goes to the window and looks out.) Hallo, there! you're the miller's boy, are you not? Here! take that letter back with you to the village, and put it in the post. (He throws it out of window to the boy.) What the devil has become of Philip? (Enter PHILIP hurriedly by the door on the right.) What's wrong? Any message from Lady Glyde?

Phil. (excitedly). No, Sir Percival. Her ladyship has just passed me on her way to the station.

Sir P. (aside). She has gone! (To PHILIP.) Speak out, you fool. What is it?

Phil. The farm-bailiff, Sir Percival! I met him at the stable-door. (He points off on the right.)

Sir P. Well, and what of that?

Phil. He was at the magistrate's on business, sir. He heard your name mentioned, and he came on here----

Sir P. My name mentioned? How?

Phil. A sworn information, Sir Percival. Nobody knows what it's about. The magistrate saw the gentleman in his private room.

[62]Sir P. What gentleman?

Phil. The rector of Old Welmingham.

Sir P. (staggering back). Mrs. Catherick has betrayed me!

Phil. I'm afraid from what I heard there's a warrant out against you, Sir Percival. The farm-bailiff only had the start of them by five minutes.

Sir P. (to himself). The night boat from Southampton will take me to France. I can't trust the railway. My horse is my only chance. I can do it across country. (To PHILIP.) Is the coast clear on that side of the house?

(He points off on the right.)

Phil. Yes, Sir Percival.

(The house-bell is heard ringing at a distance.)

Sir P. What's that?

Phil. (hurrying to the window and looking out.) The police!

Sir P. Keep them waiting at the front door. Five minutes' start of them is all I want.

(He hurries out on the right. PHILLIP goes out on the left.)

The stage is closed in to represent a room of moderate size, plainly furnished. A door at the side on the right. Another door at the back. FOSCO and the Matron of the asylum are discovered. The Matron is standing by a table. FOSCO is seated at the other side of the table, his head on his breast, his hands hanging over his knees, in an attitude of the deepest dejection. His voice and manner are alike subdued when he speaks.

Fosco. When did the doctor receive Miss Halcombe's letter?

The Mat. Two days since, sir.

[63]Fosco. Is it known how she discovered the address of this asylum?

The Mat. She applied, I believe, to the rector of Old Welmingham.

Fosco. Ah! the rector knew it, of course, through Mrs. Catherick. Miss Halcombe has been ill, has she not?

The Mat. Quite broken down, sir, from grief at Lady Glyde's death.

Fosco. Her object is to see Anne Catherick. Does she mention the motive?

The Mat. The interest she feels in the poor woman's case is the only motive Miss Halcombe mentions.

Fosco. And the doctor permits her to see Anne?

The Mat. The doctor has no reason for refusing, sir. Miss Halcombe has addressed him with a proper introduction. I am told to expect her between the visitors' usual hours--twelve and three.

Fosco. In this room? (The Matron bows.) Can I wait anywhere, out of the way of other visitors, if they come?

The Mat. I can't tell you, sir. I must ask the doctor.

Fosco. I have reason for wishing to say two words to Miss Halcombe, alone, before she sees Anne Catherick. Perhaps you will convey my request to the doctor, and ask him to give me his answer here?

The Mat. Certainly, sir.

(She turns to leave the room by the door on the right. FOSCO stops her.)

Fosco. One moment! I do not wish Miss Halcombe to be informed that I am in the house. You understand?

The Mat. Yes, sir.

(She goes out on the right. A pause.)

Fosco (thoughtfully). Broken by illness and grief, she is coming here today. Innocent of all suspicion of the truth, when she lifts her eyes--the dim and weary eyes that have wept over Laura's death--to look at Anne Catherick, what will she see? The sister whom she has mourned as dead, a living being, imprisoned here! I could leave any other woman unprepared to meet the shock. Marian pleads with me in spite of myself! I, who have carried this gigantic fraud to completion--I am in danger of destroying my own edifice with my own hands! And [64]what for? For a woman's sake! (He rises.) A word from me may strengthen her to bear it. To vaguely alarm her with the presentiment of something unexpected to come, and yet to keep her ignorant of secrets which she may guess but must never know--what a problem confronts me! Is there a man living who can solve it? Inspiriting conclusion! Consoling thought! I am the man.

The Matron enters on the right.

The Mat. The doctor is engaged, sir. If you have no objection to wait in the garden, the servant will inform you when Miss Halcombe comes.

Fosco. I will wait in the garden. Which is the nearest way?

The Mat. (opening the door on the right). The door on the left, sir, at the bottom of the staircase.

Fosco (to himself). I shall see her again!

(He bows profoundly to the Matron, and goes out.)

The Mat. (looking after him). Perfect manners! A gentleman in the truest sense of the word! Anne Catherick must be mad indeed to shudder with terror whenever she hears us mention his name!

(A man-servant appears at the door in the flat, showing in MARIAN HALCOMBE and WALTER HARTRIGHT. MARIAN is dressed in deep mourning. In look and manner they both present the appearance of persons who are overwhelmed by grief. The servant, seeing the Matron in the room, is about to retire. The Matron, after looking at MISS HALCOMBE, signs to him to wait.)

Mar. (to the Matron). I wish to see one of the patients here, named Anne Catherick.

The Mat. Will you give me your name, ma'am?

Mar. Take that card to the doctor.

The Mat. (after looking at the card). The doctor is engaged just now, ma'am. As soon as he is at liberty he shall have your card. Will you and the gentleman please to take seats?

(She beckons to the servant, and whispers a few words in his ear. The man nods, and goes out by the [65]door in the flat. The Matron goes out by the door on the right.)

Mar. (absently and sadly). Have you written to make inquiries, Walter? Is there any news of Sir Percival Glyde?

Wal. Terrible news! You know that he escaped the police--thanks to the swiftness of his horse? You know that he lay hidden on the coast, for some days afterwards, waiting his opportunity of crossing to France?

Mar. Yes.

Wal. The seaports were all watched. He attempted to cross in a fishing boat. The wreck of the vessel was discovered yesterday--and one of the drowned bodies has been identified as the body of Sir Percival Glyde.

Mar. (to herself). One of them has escaped me!

Wal. (hearing her). One of them?

Mar. There are two men who are guilty of Laura's death. There are two men whom I have vowed to bring to a day of reckoning. Sir Percival was one of the two.

Wal. Still that dreadful thought! Is it not misery enough to know that Laura is dead?

Mar. Laura has died a murdered woman! Laura has died, with her vile husband's privity and consent, by Count Fosco's hand! (WALTER answers by a gesture of horror and dissent.) Walter! on the fatal day when I parted you from her, you promised us a brother's devotion, if we ever needed it. I appeal to that devotion now! I ask you to look at past events with my eyes. You know that I was separated from Laura by a false message which took me to Cumberland?

Wal. Yes.

Mar. When I got back to Blackwater Park, the house was literally a solitude. I was left to search the rooms, and see for myself that Laura had gone--gone after I had telegraphed warning her to wait my return. When I got back to London the next day, I had nothing--absolutely nothing--to guide me but my own experience of what had happened, and my own knowledge that Laura's death would put thousands of pounds into the needy hands of Sir Percival and the count. Acting on my own suspicion only--mark that!--I went to the lawyer, and insisted on his instantly sending to the count's house. What news [66]did the messenger bring back? The news of Laura's death under that man's roof! I had left her at Blackwater, on the second of the month, in perfect health. I was informed that she had died the next day, of heart disease, in Count Fosco's house! Am I mad? is there no evidence that she was decoyed to London for a purpose--is there no suspicion of foul play--implied in all this? Ha! you are turning pale--you are seeing with my eyes--you are thinking with my thoughts at last.

Wal. Oh, the horror of it! the horror of it! Oh, my lost love! when my heart dwells on your memory now, must I think of you as the victim of a crime!

(He hides his face in his hands.)

Mar. Vengeance! That innocent blood cries to God, and man for vengeance! Shall it cry in vain? (WALTER starts to his feet, electrified by her last words.) Have I roused you? Is my purpose, your purpose now? Oh, my friend, precious time has been lost while I lay prostrate under the blow that has fallen on me! Help me, before it is too late! Help me to drag this hideous secret into the light of day!

Wal. (eagerly). How can I help you in this place? Why do you bring me here?

Mar. I bring you here in sheer despair of knowing what else to do. Anne Catherick may have seen something, may have heard something, which will put the clue into our hands.

Wal. No! no! no! The inquiry must begin, where the plot began, at Blackwater Park.

Mar. I have been there again. Useless! The time lost while I lay ill has raised a fatal obstacle in our way. People who saw Laura have forgotten the dates. Neither the gardener who met her in the grounds, nor the station-master who gave her the railway ticket, can fix the day. The valet and his wife, who were the only servants left in the house, are nowhere to be found. I have tried and tried, and I come back defeated at every point. The count will escape us next. Walter! if we move heaven and earth to do it, let us lay our hands on the count!

(The door at the back opens, and the man-servant appears, showing in FOSCO. MARIAN stands petrified [67]at the sight of him. The servant goes out, closing the door.)

Wal. (observing MARIAN, and speaking in a whisper). Is this the man?

Mar. (faintly). Yes!

(FOSCO, having paused a moment at the door, with his eyes fixed on MARIAN, advances, without taking the slightest notice of WALTER, and bows to her with the most profound respect. MARIAN draws back from him in horror.)

Fosco (gravely). Miss Halcombe! before you see Anne Catherick, I have a word to say to you--in the interests of your tranquillity, in the character of your friend.

Mar. (shuddering). His voice curdles my blood! His eye freezes me with horror!

(She looks at WALTER.)

Wal. (approaching her). Compose yourself. I won't leave you alone with him.

(FOSCO, who has calmly waited his opportunity to speak again, once more addresses MISS HALCOMBE, and once more passes WALTER by unnoticed.)

Fosco (to MARIAN, with strong, but suppressed, emotion). No interests but yours could have prevailed on me to come here to-day. The one exception in the world is, Miss Halcombe. I make that exception against my own better sense; with the full knowledge in myself that I am trusting to a calculation of chances in which I may be fatally deceived. Why do I do this? I do it, because Miss Halcombe's peace of mind is precious to me beyond my own. Noble woman! my tongue is tied by a terrible necessity. But my sentiments are at your feet. My heart bleeds for you!

Mar. (to WALTER). Oh, if I could but say the words which are trembling on my lips!

Wal. The time has not come for saying them yet! (He addresses FOSCO.) You see for yourself, sir, the effect which your presence produces on this lady. State your business with her plainly.

Fosco (suddenly turning on WALTER). Who are you? Your name, sir, if you please!

Wal. I have no reason to conceal my name. Walter Hartright.

[68]Fosco. Mr. Hartright! I find you intruding yourself into affairs with which you have absolutely no concern. I warn you--take care how you cross my path a second time!

Mar. (indignantly). This is beyond endurance!

(She attempts to address FOSCO.)

Wal. (his eyes firmly fixed on FOSCO'S face, lifting his hand to MARIAN). Not a word!

Fosco (continuing). Know this, sir! If you were twenty Mr. Hartrights instead of one, I have but to lift my hand and to brush you out of my way! I live my own life; I go on to my own ends, in spite of you--sustained by my sublime indifference; self-balanced by my impenetrable calm.

Wal. (still steadily eyeing him). Something tells me, Count Fosco, that a day is coming when I shall disturb that calm.

Fosco. When that day does come, Mr. Hartright, something tells ME--(he pauses, and suddenly puts his hand on WALTER'S breast)--it will be the last day of your life.

Mar. (suddenly interfering). Walter! take your hat! (She turns, strongly constraining herself, to FOSCO, without looking at him.) Am I to understand that Count Fosco wishes to speak to me alone?

Fosco (with a low bow). For five minutes, Miss Halcombe.

Mar. (to WALTER). Leave me.

Wal. While he is here?

Mar. What have I to fear? It's you who cannot remain in the same room with him--not I. Go! (WALTER hesitates.) For my sake, go!

Wal. (taking his hat). You leave me no alternative. I will wait outside the house if you want me.

(He walks to the door at the back, turns for a moment, and looks at FOSCO, then goes out.)

Fosco (to MARIAN). Permit me to offer you a chair. (MARIAN declines, by a gesture. FOSCO respectfully persists.) You are weak--you have not recovered yet. I will not exceed my five minutes; I will not presume to be seated myself.

(He again offers the chair. MARIAN, unwillingly influenced, seats herself. FOSCO retires to a little dis[69]tance and waits until she is composed enough to listen to him.)

Mar. (aside). Something moves him deeply--even he may say the words which betray him. Oh, Laura, it is in your cause that I submit to this!

Fosco. Miss Halcombe! You are on the brink of a terrible revelation. You are getting nearer, minute by minute, to a fearful shock. I am here to prepare you to meet it.

Mar. (aside). What does he mean?

Fosco. You are advancing, blindfold, at this moment, and in this room, to a discovery that will shake you to the soul. You are trembling--unconscious of the truth--on the brink of a new crisis in your life. (Advancing a step.) When I leave you here by yourself, summon your sublime courage. You will want it. (He points to the door on the right; his voice sinks low in horror) When that door opens--on my life and honour you will want it! (MARIAN interrupts him by a gesture of contempt) I am speaking the truth. Look at me!

Mar. (looking at him for the first time). Murderer!!!

Fosco (with true emotion). Oh, I pity you! I pity you!

Mar. (rising indignantly, stung by the insult). Leave the room!

Fosco (with dignity; feeling the insult on his side). Compose yourself, Miss Halcombe. My errand here is done. I have yielded immeasurable concessions to the first--last--weakness of Fosco's life, inspired by YOU. (He bows low, retires to the door at the back, turns, and points again to the door on the right.) For the last time, rouse the great heart that is in you, before that door opens. (MISS HALCOMBE, spell-bound by the terrible sincerity of his voice and manner, fixes her eyes on the door.) While you stand there, you are standing at the gate of the grave! The dead will walk out on you!

(He looks at her for the last time, and leaves the room.)

Mar. (slowly repeating his last words). I am standing at the gate of the grave? The dead will walk out on me? (She shudders under a momentary thrill of terror, and calls softly under her breath.) Walter! (A pause. She looks round her slowly) No: I sent Walter away. (Another [70]pause. She looks towards the door on the right.) Hush! It's opening. (She presses her hand on her bosom.) My heart! my heart!

(The door on the right opens. The Matron appears, sees MISS HALCOMBE alone, and draws back out of sight.)

The Mat. (speaking outside). Anne Catherick, there is a lady to see you. Anne Catherick, go into the room.

(LAURA enters slowly on the right. The door is closed behind her. Her face and manner show that confinement in the asylum has already shaken her mind. She pauses near the door, looks at MARIAN, and shakes her head sadly. MARIAN, on her side, stands with eyes fixed in agony. FOSCO'S warning strengthens her first instinctive doubt of the person before her.)

Laura (pausing at the door; uncertain whether it is MARIAN, or the phantom of her own imagination). Dreaming of her last night. Dreaming of her now. Oh me! mad! mad!

(MARIAN speaks, without moving, following the succession of her own ideas--in a whisper.)

Marian (to herself). Anne Catherick? (A pause.) No. (LAURA advances a step; still uncertain of the reality of what she sees.)

Marian (as before). A spirit from the dead? (A pause.) No.

(LAURA advances again. The idea that it is MARIAN herself dawns on her mind. She holds out her hand timidly to MARIAN, as if not quite certain yet.)

Marian (breathless: her voice choked by emotion). Laura?

(An answering smile appears on LAURA'S face. A cry of rapture bursts from MARIAN. They rush into each other's arms.)

Entrances at the side, right and left. A large open window at the back. A table and chairs. The rise of the curtain discovers MARIAN, LAURA, WALTER HARTRIGHT, PESCA, and MR. KYRLE. MARIAN is seated apart, supporting LAURA, whose head rests on her shoulder. WALTER, PESCA, and MR. KYRLE are seated round the table, on which papers and writing materials are placed.

Wal. (indignantly addressing MR. KYRLE). And you expect me to be patient?

Mr. K. Yes, Mr. Hartright, as your friend and your legal adviser, I expect you to be patient. (He turns to MARIAN.) How is Lady Glyde?

Mar. As you see, quite worn out. (Looking down fondly at LAURA.) Denied to her face by the people among whom she has lived from a child! Branded as an adventuress--here, on her own land, and in sight of her own home! Is it for this that we have rescued her from the madhouse, and brought her to the place of her birth?

Wal. (bitterly.) It is we who are exposed as impostors by Count Fosco. It is we who have planned a conspiracy and committed a fraud. (He points to LAURA.) The tenantry on the Fairlie estate have seen her here to-day, a living woman--and they still believe the lie which records her death on the tombstone in the churchyard!

[72]Pesca. Patience, my friend. Count Fosco has possessed himself of their confidence. Count Fosco has blinded them to the truth.

Enter a Chambermaid on the left.

Chamber. (to MARIAN). The room is ready, ma'am, if the lady wishes to rest.

Mar. (rising, with LAURA). Come, Laura. After what you have endured to-day you need repose.

Laura (faintly). Where is Walter? (WALTER approaches.) You won't leave me here? When you go back to London you will take me with you?

Wal. (taking her hand). Go where I may, we will never be parted again!

Mr. K. (to WALTER, aside). I wish to speak to you when the ladies have left the room.

Wal. (to LAURA). Go with Marian. Rest, Laura, rest!

(He kisses her hand. MARIAN takes her out on the left. The Chambermaid follows them. WALTER, PESCA, and MR. KYRLE resume their places at the table.)

Mr. K. Mr. Hartright, let us begin by looking facts in the face. You have claimed the right to assert Lady Glyde's identity, in the presence of the tenantry on her uncle's estate; and the tenantry have decided against you. Will you let me--as your professional adviser--help you to understand your position? May I tell you plainly why you have failed?

Pesca. Hear him, Walter, for your own sake.

Wal. (controlling himself). Speak, sir.

Mr. K. In the first place, you have damaged your own case at starting----

Wal. How?

Mr. K. You declare that Miss Halcombe discovered Lady Glyde imprisoned in the lunatic asylum under Anne Catherick's name----

Wal. Well?

Mr. K. What course do you and Miss Halcombe take on making that alleged discovery? Do you appeal to the proprietor of the asylum? Do you employ lawful and honest means of proving the lady's identity, and claiming [73]her release? No! you bribe a nurse to be false to the trust placed in her, and to let the patient escape.

Wal. Could we leave her to wait the slow remedy of the law? Could we leave her, with her mind already shaken, to lose her senses in the asylum?

Pesca (to MR. KYRLE). Oh no! Surely, sir, they could not do that?

Mr. K. I don't say they could. I only say that their own natural proceeding throws suspicion on their own case at starting.

Pesca (to WALTER). That is true.

Wal. (impatiently). True or not, Laura's personal statement ought to have satisfied everybody.

Mr. K. Ought it? What is her statement? She says she was decoyed to London by a false telegram. She says she was met by the count at the station, and taken to a strange house, on the pretence that Miss Halcombe had returned to London, and was waiting there to see her. She says that she only saw two men (both strangers), who put extraordinary questions to her--that she became alarmed, and turned faint--that the smelling salts and the water supplied to her were both medicated--that she lost her senses--and that she came to herself in the asylum, with Anne Catherick's clothes on her, placed there under Anne Catherick's name.

Wal. All true!

Mr. K. And none of it proved to be true. What does Count Fosco say on his side? He appeals to the certificate of death. Evidence! He appeals to the old nurse from Limmeridge, who came to London to perform the last offices--and who recognised the body. Evidence! He appeals to the proprietor of the asylum--a man of high character--who identifies his former patient. Evidence! You declare that the witnesses are deceived by the likeness between the two women. You assert that it is not Lady Glyde, but Anne Catherick, who lies buried in Limmeridge churchyard. What proof do you produce in support of that assertion? Your own conviction--nothing more!

Wal. What proof can I produce?

Mr. K. (rising). Produce evidence which does not depend on your assertion or Miss Halcombe's. Produce [74]evidence which absolutely proves that Lady Glyde was alive in Hampshire, the day after the doctor's certificate declares her to have died in London. Get proof of that--proof in person or proof in writing--and you win your case.

Wal. (rising). I will get it!

Pesca. How?

(MARIAN appears at the entrance on the left.)

Mr. K. How--indeed! All my experience fails to show me. Mr. Hartright, the struggle, as I told you from the first, is a hopeless one. Give it up.

Wal. Never! (MARIAN advances a little.)

Pesca (to WALTER--rising as he speaks). Think of what you risk if you go on!

Wal. Come what may of it, I will go on!

Mar. (placing herself by his side). Come what may of it, I go with him! (WALTER presses MARIAN'S hand.

Pesca. Miss Halcombe!

Mr. K. May you both succeed! I can say no more.

(He gathers up the papers; bows to MISS HALCOMBE; and leaves them. At the right side entrance, he is met by a groom in livery, with a letter in his hand.)

The Groom. I beg your pardon, sir. Is Miss Halcombe here?

Mr. K. (pointing to MARIAN). There is Miss Halcombe.

(He goes out. The Groom advances; gives the letter to MARIAN; retires to the back, and waits.)

Mar. (opening the letter). From Count Fosco! I decline to receive it.

(She turns to give the letter back to the Servant. WALTER stops her.)

Wal. Let me look at it. (MARIAN gives him the letter. He runs his eye over it, considers for a moment, and addresses the Servant.) No answer. (The Servant goes out. WALTER turns to MARIAN.) Have you left Laura better?

Mar. I have left her sleeping--I came here to tell you so. Do you wish me to go?

Wal. You shall decide for yourself. You heard what I said to the servant. Now hear the count's letter. (He reads the letter.) "Admirable woman! A word to com[75]pose your mind for the future. After the decision of today, you have nothing to fear from me--on these conditions, that you silence Mr. Hartright, and that you remain in retirement. The fair companion of your retreat shall not be molested. The proprietor of the asylum has no wish to risk another scandal by receiving his patient again. Let me hear, dear lady, that you accept the terms of peace. If the servant fails to bring a written reply, I will assume that you offer me the privilege of receiving my answer from yourself.--FOSCO."

Mar. (astonished). You have sent him the message which will bring him here!

Wal. (calmly). I want him here.

Mar. Why?

Wal. The writer of this letter is the man who met Lady Glyde at the terminus, on her arrival in London. The count can prove our case--and the count shall prove it!

Mar. Walter!!!

Wal. Leave me before the count comes. Leave me with my friend--here.

Pesca. With me?

Wal. Alone--with you. (He takes MARIAN'S hand, and leads her towards the left entrance.) I am not groping my way in the dark, Marian--I am acting on deliberate conviction. Keep Laura quiet; let her suspect nothing. (MARIAN goes out, turning at the last moment to look anxiously after WALTER. WALTER returns to PESCA, and abruptly questions him.) Have you ever seen Count Fosco before to-day?

Pesca (starting). I have seen him once before--in London.

Wal. Did he see you?

Pesca. No.

Wal. Do you think he saw you at the Inquiry, this morning?

Pesca. I was lost in the crowd. It is impossible he could have seen me.

Wal. I want him to see you. In my presence.

Pesca. You have some reason for this!

Wal. Have you forgotten the churchyard at Old Welmingham, and the letter from Italy which dashed your spirits for the whole morning?

[76]Pesca (alarmed). What do you know about my letter?

Wal. Only what you told me. It came from the secret Political Society, which you joined years since in Italy, and it addressed you on private affairs.

Pesca (more and more uneasy). Well?

Wal. Well--I know the count to be an Italian. I have heard that he is also reported to be a Spy. I want to see if--in either of those two characters--he knows you.

Pesca (distressed). Ask me anything else, Walter! I cannot do this.

(He attempts to leave the room. WALTER stops him.)

Wal. I ask you to do it, in the name of our friendship. Do you refuse me?

Pesca (reluctantly). You know I cannot refuse you!

Wal. (pressing his hand). I hear some one coming. If it is the count, keep your back turned on him until I call to you.

(PESCA retires to the window, and stands looking out. FOSCO appears on the right. He suspiciously notices PESCA, who stands with his back towards FOSCO--then sees WALTER, and approaches him.)

Fosco (with grave politeness). Permit me to explain my intrusion, sir. I am here to see Miss Halcombe.

Wal. Miss Halcombe declines to see you.

Fosco. The lady owes me an answer to a letter of mine.

Wal. The lady leaves the answer to your letter to me.

Fosco. I refuse to accept you as mediator between us. I decline to discuss matters of delicacy in the presence of a witness--(he points to PESCA)--who keeps his face hidden from me.

Wal. You shall see his face. (WALTER turns to PESCA.) My friend! (He presents them to each other.) Professor Pesca--Count Fosco.

(PESCA faces FOSCO as WALTER pronounces his name. FOSCO starts back at the sight of him in a sudden panic of terror, which he is for the moment perfectly unable to control. WALTER closely observes him. After a pause of a moment he recovers himself, and bows to PESCA, with his eyes on the ground. PESCA, visibly ill at case, returns the salute in silence. FOSCO passes his handkerchief over his forehead, and [77]addresses WALTER, to all outward appearance as resolutely as ever.)

Fosco. I maintain my refusal, sir, to treat with you. (He indicates PESCA without looking at him.) If there was anything offensive in my reference to this gentleman as witness, I apologise and withdraw it. In the course of the day I shall expect Miss Halcombe's answer. Mr. Hartright! (He bows slightingly to WALTER.) Professor Pesca!

(He bows profoundly to PESCA, still without looking at him, and goes out on the right. The instant his back it turned, WALTER'S emotion defies control. He addresses PESCA in violent agitation.)

Wal. Arm me with the terror you have inspired in that man, and you arm me with the weapon I want!

Pesca (lifting his hands in horror). No! no!

Wal. You have forgotten him. He remembers, and fears you. Why?

Pesca. Don't ask me!

Wal. I must ask you! I must force the proof out of the count, or Laura loses her place among living beings, and I lose the hope of my life. Yes! I have sworn to restore her to her place in the world, before I ask her to be my wife. Her happiness and my happiness are in your hands!

Pesca. On your honour, and on your soul, is there no other way?

Wal. (bitterly). You have witnessed the struggle--you have seen how it has ended. What risk do you run in helping me?

Pesca (calmly). The risk of my life! (WALTER starts.) Now listen, knowing that. (He lowers his voice, and speaks with growing agitation.) You are right about the man who has just left us. He has betrayed the Brotherhood to which we both belong. His errand in this country is the errand of a Spy. The letter that reached me from Italy ordered me to identify him on his arrival in England.

Wal. Were you able to do it?

Pesca. Thank God I was not able to do it! He is so altered, or so disguised, since I saw him, that I could not recognise him. From the moment when I failed to do this, [78]the whole responsibility passed away from me. I am now the passive instrument that forwards the reports to the chief--nothing more.

Wal. Has his disguise been penetrated? Has he been recognised yet?

Pesca. He has had a long respite. He was only recognised last week.

Wal. A respite from what?

Pesca (dropping his voice to a whisper). Death.

Wal. Death!

Pesca. The sentence of the Brotherhood has been pronounced on him. The laws of the Brotherhood have condemned him to die. Every step he takes is watched. Go where he may, no human laws can save him. He is a doomed man.

Wal. Does he know of his danger?

Pesca. He suspected his danger, for the first time, when I turned my face on him, here, at your request.

Wal. He may attempt to escape!

Pesca. He is certain to attempt it, after seeing me.

Wal. When does the train start for London?

Pesca. In ten minutes.

Wal. We are close to the station here. Hark! (The rumbling of wheels is heard outside.) A carriage is passing the door! (He hurries to the window, and looks out.) The count--driving to the train! (He returns to PESCA.) Tomorrow morning he may leave the country. I must follow him to London--I must see him to-night. Give me the means of showing him that I know his secret. You must have a pass-word in the Brotherhood. Whisper it in my ear.

Pesca. We have no pass-word. We are known by a secret mark that is set on all of us alike. A brand, burnt into the flesh of the left arm--up here. (He points to the inner side of his left arm just under the arm-pit.) Mention that mark to the count, and you will say enough.

Wal. (taking his hat). See Marian for me. Make the best excuse you can. Keep them in this neighbourhood till you hear from me again.

Pesca. Impossible! If you go to London, I go with you.

[79]Wal. Why?

Pesca (lowering his voice once more). You propose to see him to-night. For all I know, to-night may be fixed for his death. There are two men, members of the Brotherhood---mind, I am not in their confidence; I can only guess--there are two hidden men, waiting the fatal moment, who have studied his habits; who have gained his servants; who know every corner of his house. If you will see him, I must warn those two men that you see him on your own affairs. Let them only suspect you of meddling, and you cross their path at the peril of your life!

(MARIAN enters hurriedly on the left.)

Mar. Can you come to Laura? She has had some dream about you that has frightened her dreadfully. Nothing but the sight of you will persuade her that you are safe and well.

Wal. Marian! you have promised to help me. I claim your promise. Our last hope is lost, if I miss the train that gets to London to-night.

Mar. You are leaving us?

Wal. I have not a moment to spare. I can only count on your courage and devotion. Take Laura to Carlisle this evening. You shall hear from me to-morrow. Marian! Marian! I trust in you!

(He draws her to him, kisses her on the forehead, and hurries out on the right. PESCA attempts to follow. MARIAN seizes him by the arm.)

Mar. (wildly). He is going into danger!

Pesca. Leave hold of me, or he will go alone!

(He disengages himself, and follows WALTER. At the same moment, LAURA appears in violent agitation on the left.)

Laura. Walter! Walter! where are you?

Mar. Merciful God! what am I to tell her? If she gets to the window she will see him!

(She hurries to LAURA, and forces her out again, on the left.)

The stage is divided, vertically, into two unequal portions. The smaller portion (on the actor's left) represents, a conservatory, communicating with the drawing-room by a glass door in the drawing-room wall. A curtain hangs over the glass, on the side of it turned towards the room. The fireplace and chimney-piece are on the left wall of the room. At the back of the stage a large open French window, raised a little above the level of the drawing-room floor, gives access by means of two or three steps to a little tiled ante-chamber or hall, which has a door at the further end, serving as an exit, and supposed to open into another room. The junction of the ante-chamber with the conservatory on the left is hidden by the wall of the drawing-room, and by the curtains which hang over the French window, hiding both sides of the ante-chamber from view. On the right hand wall of the drawing-room is a door of entrance, supposed to communicate with the interior of the house. The furniture is composed of a table, which must contain a drawer; of a few chairs, and a sofa. In the ante-chamber, placed on a stand, is the cage containing the Count's canaries. An oil-lamp burns on the table. The conservatory on the left hand side of the room, and the ante-chamber at the back (which has a skylight), are lit by the moon. FOSCO and MADAME FOSCO are discovered. MADAME FOSCO is handing articles of wearing apparel to her husband, who is on his knees, in his shirt-sleeves, packing a small portmanteau.

Fosco (pausing). Have you found out when the passport-office opens to-morrow morning?

Madame F. At ten o'clock.

Fosco (continuing his packing). I wish it had been earlier!

[81]Madame F. (handing him the next article of clothing). Count!

Fosco. My angel?

Madame F. I have aided your plans--I have kept your secrets. Surely I have some title to your confidence? What is the danger which forces this sudden departure on us?

Fosco (aside). Even her courage may falter if I tell her! (To MADAME FOSCO.) You shall know it when we are out of England. In the mean time, whatever the danger may be, you see in your husband a man capable of grappling with it. (He looks at his luggage.) So! the portmanteau is filled. Go up to your room, Eleanor, and rest for tonight.

(A knock is heard at the door on the right. A maid-servant enters with a visiting card in her hand.)

The Servant. A gentleman to see you, sir.

(MADAME FOSCO takes the card and hands it to her husband.)

Fosco (looking at it). "Mr. Walter Hartright." (Aside.) The man who presented me to Pesca! He has some motive in coming here.

(He pauses, with the card in his hand. MADAME FOSCO points to it.)

Madame F. There is writing on the card. Look!

Fosco (reading). "On business of serious importance to the count." (He considers for a moment.) Where is Mr. Hartright?

The Servant. At the garden-gate, sir.

Fosco. Show him in.

(He crosses the room to the chimney-piece.)

Madame F. Are you running any risk, count? Mr. Hartright is your enemy.

Fosco. Mr. Hartright is a fly that buzzes about my ears. If it is necessary, I shall brush the fly away--that is all. (He takes a pistol from the chimney-piece, unnoticed by MADAME FOSCO, who is looking towards the door on the right, in expectation of WALTER'S appearance. FOSCO rapidly examines the pistol to see if it is capped, and then puts it in the drawer of the table, saying to himself as he closes the drawer): Medicine for Mr. Hartright. To be taken if required.

[82](WALTER enters by the door on the right, shown in by the Servant. He bows to MADAME FOSCO and to the COUNT.)

Fosco (gravely). You wish to see me, Mr. Hartright?

Wal. I have something to say to you--(he points to the portmanteau)--before you take your journey.

Fosco. Is your business connected with my journey?

Wal. In some degree.

Fosco. Is it private business?

Wal. If Madame Fosco will excuse me--yes.

Fosco. Madame Fosco accepts your excuses. (To MADAME FOSCO.) My angel, I have no further need of your services. Leave me with Mr. Hartright, and try to sleep. (He opens the door on the right.)

Madame F. If I can't sleep, count, may I come down again to you?

Fosco. Knock at the door first. I may be engaged on private matters. (MADAME FOSCO goes out. FOSCO, after closing the door, turns, and addresses WALTER, who has crossed to the fireplace. FOSCO stands at the table) In what way is your business connected with my journey? Do you know where I am going to?

Wal. No. I only know why you are leaving London.

(FOSCO suddenly turns back to the door on the right, locks it, and puts the key in his pocket.)

Fosco. When you came to this house, Mr. Hartright, did it by any chance occur to you that I was not a man to be trifled with? (He seats himself at the table, with his hand over the drawer. WALTER, steadily observing him, remains standing at the fireplace.) You know why I am leaving London. Tell me the reason, if you please. (He slowly opens the drawer.)

Wal. I can show you the reason, if you like.

Fosco. How can you show it? (He drops his hand into the drawer.)

Wal. You have your coat off. Turn up the shirt-sleeve on your left arm. You will see the reason there. (A pause. FOSCO is heard moving the pistol in the drawer. He slowly raises it into view just above the level of the drawer, with his eyes fixed thoughtfully on WALTER. WALTER resumes in the low steady tones in which he has spoken from the first.) Wait a little! You see I don't move. You [83]see my hands are empty. I have something more to say to you.

Fosco (steadily on his side). You have said enough. I want one moment for my own thoughts. Do you guess what I am thinking about?

Wal. Perhaps I do.

Fosco (very quietly). I am thinking whether I shall add to the disorder in this room, by scattering your brains about that fireplace.

Wal. I advise you to read two lines of writing which I have about me before you decide the question.

Fosco (holding out his left hand). Let me see the writing. (WALTER takes a morsel of paper from his pocket, and hands it open, at arm's length, to FOSCO. FOSCO reads it aloud.) "Your letter is received. If I don't hear from you before the time you mention, I will break the seal when the clock strikes." (He looks up at WALTER.) What does your sealed letter tell the person who has written this?

Wal. My letter tells him that I have failed in the purpose which has brought me here to-night, and that I have died by your hand. The man I have written to has the means of making you answer for my life with yours. If you use that pistol, he will open my letter, and employ those means, before you can leave England to-morrow. Are you answered?

Fosco. I am answered. (He takes his right hand out of the drawer, and alters his tone.) I am a just man, Mr. Hartright, even to my enemy. I don't say I may not scatter your brains about the fireplace yet. I only acknowledge they are cleverer brains than I thought them. Take a seat, sir. (He rises, and points to a chair.) I have been packing. With your permission I will resume my coat. (He puts on his coat, and takes his seat again by the table.) Come to the point! You want something of me?

Wal. I want something of you before I leave this house.

Fosco. On conditions?

Wal. On no conditions.

Fosco. My dear sir, we are travelling in a circle! Those clever brains of yours are in danger again. You have not got my lamented friend, Percival, to deal with now. (He [84]takes up his hat from the table and points to the deep crape on it.) See! I mourn his loss. Inwardly, in my soul: outwardly, on my hat. (He puts the hat back.) Sir! you are face to face with Fosco. Realise your position; and state plainly what you demand of me. Is it money?

Wal. It is NOT money. You have been guilty of an infamous conspiracy. The object of it--so far as your personal interests are concerned--is the gain of ten thousand pounds. Keep your gain. (FOSCO draws a breath of relief.) I am not here to bargain for money which has passed through your hands, and which has been the price of a crime.

Fosco. Gently, Mr. Hartright! Keep your moral claptraps for your own countrymen. They have no effect on me. The ten thousand pounds was a legacy left to my wife. I say no more. The subject is deplorably sordid! Once again, what do you demand of me?

Wal. I demand the evidence which establishes Lady Glyde's identity. I demand proofs which fix the date on which Lady Glyde left Blackwater Park, and travelled to London.

Fosco (coolly). Aha! you can lay your finger, I see, on the weak place. Anything more?

Wal. Nothing more.

Fosco. Good. You have stated your position. I will state mine. Since I obtained my triumph over you, at the inquiry held in Cumberland this morning, circumstances have led me to alter my plans. I am about to leave England--never to return to it again. In this position, I have no consequences to fear for myself if I place the evidence of Lady Glyde's identity in your hands. For Miss Halcombe's sake, sir--not for yours or for Lady Glyde's--I will do it! I offer you the proofs you want on three conditions.

Wal. Name them.

Fosco. First condition! you furnish my servant with a written order to the man who has got your letter to give it up--and you wait here with me till the letter is brought back. Before we go on, do you accept the first condition?

Wal. I accept it with one reservation. I require you [85]to destroy the sealed letter in my presence, unopened, as soon as it is placed in your hands.

Fosco (carelessly). I am not curious about the letter. I agree to your reservation. (He gives WALTER writing materials.) Write the order at once--to save time. (WALTER writes a few lines.) Is it far from here?

Wal. It is close by.

(He closes the envelope, addresses it, and hands it to FOSCO.)

Fosco (looking at the address). "Professor Pesca." I thought so! (He rings the bell, and unlocks the door on the right. The servant appears.) Take this to the address, and wait for an answer. (The servant goes out, and closes the door. FOSCO continues, addressing WALTER.) Mr. Hartright, I proceed. Second condition! You make no use of the documents I place in your hands, until Madame Fosco and I have left England. Do you agree?

Wal. Yes.

Fosco. Third condition! After the language you have used here, you meet me abroad at the first convenient opportunity, and you give me the satisfaction of a gentleman. Agreed, again?

Wal. I decline to discuss the third condition with a man who has just threatened me with assassination.

Fosco. Another moral clap-trap! You English are incorrigible. While the servant is gone, I will look for the papers that you want. (He goes to his portmanteau, takes out a bundle of papers, and looks over them. WALTER waits seated at the table, with his back towards the ante-chamber. Two men, in plain costume, appear noiselessly in the moonlit conservatory at the moment when FOSCO has ceased speaking. They listen at the glass door. After showing, by their gestures, that they can hear nothing, they disappear up the conservatory. The next moment they appear again stealthily in the ante-chamber. They look into the room. One points out WALTER to the other. They retire again out of sight. FOSCO selects two papers from the bundle, and places them in the breast-pocket of his coat--then turns abruptly towards the door on the right.) Do I hear the servant? (He opens the door, takes a note from the servant, closes the door again without locking it, and turns to WALTER.) Is this your letter?

[86](The two men reappear in the conservatory, and wait behind the glass door.

Wal. (after looking at it). That is my letter.

Fosco (holding the letter over the flame of the lamp). I burn it as I promised. (He takes the papers out of his pocket, and hands one to WALTER.) Read that.

Wal. (reading). "Blackwater Park, September fourth, eighteen hundred and sixty-two. DEAR FOSCO,--All has passed exactly as you wished. Lady Glyde starts for London to-day by the two-forty train. Yours, PERCIVAL GLYDE." (WALTER speaks to himself.) The medical certificate declares that Lady Glyde died on the third. Here is her husband's letter dated the fourth, and signed by his name. The proof at last!

Fosco (handing him the second paper). The present address of the valet and his wife, who saw her alive at Blackwater on the morning of the fourth. Witnesses in support of the evidence of the letter.

Wal. (Joyously). This completes it! Oh, Laura! (FOSCO, after looking at WALTER with contemptuous surprise, turns away, and lights a cigarette. WALTER continues to himself.) I have forced the evidence out of him which makes me happy for life. Villain as he is, can I leave him recklessly to his fate? Is it possible to warn him without betraying Pesca? (He addresses FOSCO.) Count Fosco, I have a last word to say before I go. I express no opinion of Madame Fosco's conduct to her niece. But I ask you, in the name of your innocent victim, have you no word of repentance to say at parting?

Fosco (loftily). Stop, Mr. Hartright! You have mentioned Madame Fosco in a tone that there is no mistaking. I assert my wife's sublime devotion of herself to my interests, as one of my wife's virtues. What duty does the marriage obligation impose on a woman in this respectable country of yours? It charges her, unreservedly, to love, honour, and obey her husband. That is exactly what Madame Fosco has done. Silence, Calumny! Your sympathy, wives of England, for Madame Fosco!

Wal. (turning away). I might have known it! Who could hope to touch that impenetrable heart?

Fosco. As for me, what have I to repent of? With my [87]vast resources in chemistry, I might have taken Lady Glyde's life. At immense personal sacrifice, I followed the dictates of my own humanity, and took her identity instead. Judge me by what I might have done. How comparatively innocent, how indirectly virtuous I appear in what I really did!

Wal. (turning away in disgust). I have heard enough!

(He crosses to the door on the right, and opens it.)

Fosco. A message before you go--a message to Miss Halcombe. It is to her influence, sir, that you are to attribute every weakness that I have shown, every concession that I have made. Say, when you see Miss Halcombe (he strikes his heart) that her image is here! She looked thin and ill when I saw her last. Take care of that noble creature! I earnestly entreat you, sir, take care of Miss Halcombe!

(He waves his hand, and turns away.)

Wal. (looking back through the open door, and laying a strong emphasis on the last word). Take care of YOURSELF!

(He goes out, closing the door.)

Fosco (turning rapidly). What?--Bah! what does he know? The last empty threat of a man writhing under my impenetrable calm! (He stretches his arms luxuriously.) Ouf! the skirmish has been hot! I am satisfied with myself. I have been dignified--I have been eloquent--I have been superior to my adversary all the way through. Give me a few hours more--give me time and room for my own grand combinations--and I will set my foot yet on this miserable Brotherhood that threatens me! (The birds in the ante-chamber, awakened by his voice, begin to twitter faintly. FOSCO instantly approaches them, and stands talking to them, with his back turned towards the room.) Ha! my little feathered children, have I woke you up? I must part with you, my pret-pret-pretties. I must leave you in the care of a friend. Have a bonbon, my pets, at parting!

(He takes out his box, and puts a bonbon between the bars of the cage, still talking to the birds in dumb slow. At the moment when he is silent, one of the men in the conservatory takes a key from his pocket; noiselessly opens the glass door, and looks into the room. He signs to his comrade to go up the con[88]servatory. The second man goes up, and is lost to view. The first man draws his dagger; and, advancing into the room, steals towards FOSCO. Arrived nearly within arm's length of the Count, his foot strikes against a chair. FOSCO instantly turns round from the birdcage. At the same moment, the second man, who has been out of sight, springs on him from behind, in the ante-chamber, and throws one arm round his throat. The first man, at a blow, stabs him to the heart. He sinks with a low cry on the man who holds him by the throat. The man, aided by his accomplice, lays the dead body on the floor of the ante-chamber. This done, the two men, lifting their daggers in their left hands, join their right hands solemnly over the corpse--stand, for a moment, in that position--and then disappear: one by the door at the back, which opens out of the ante-chamber: the other by way of the conservatory. The body of FOSCO lies in the moonlight. For a moment or two there is silence. Then a knock is heard at the door on the right. After another pause, the voice of MADAME FOSCO is audible outside, saying--"Count! may I come in?"

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