Complete Works of Wilkie Collins (1961 page)

John Want.
Bateson, I consider you to be as sharp a man as myself, though not so cheerful. I want to know something about these ladies. It may have slipped my memory — but I can’t for the life of me make out how they got here, on the coast of Newfoundland.

Bate.
Has it slipped your memory that we were all saved from starving to death by a searching expedition from England which discovered us in the hut? Oh! you remember that, do you? Well, the ladies are here, because they were anxious to get the earliest news of us — and their way of getting it was to come out in the store-ship, which was timed to meet the expedition on its return from the miserable North Pole.

John Want.
Don’t grumble! I won’t hear any grumbling. Miserable North Pole indeed! What do you call this place? There! there! Go on.

Bate.
Go on? There’s nothing more to tell you, except that we have all come ashore here for a day or two, for the sake of the health of these ladies after the confinement they have undergone on board ship. If you’re curious after more information, Master Want, I must leave you to your own devices to get it. Lieutenant Crayford will be here directly to receive his instructions from the ship — and I’d rather not give him the chance of finding me idling along with you.

Enter
CRAYFORD
from the beach.
BATESON
goes out, touching his hat as he passes his officer.

Cray.
(
to
JOHN WANT). Have you done cording that box?

John Want.
I’ve done it as well as I can, sir — but the damp of this place is beginning to tell upon our very ropes. I say nothing about our lungs — I only say, our ropes.

Cray.
Pooh! To look at your wry face, and to hear your croaking voice, one would think that our rescue from the Arctic regions was a downright misfortune. You deserve to be sent back.

John Want.
I could be just as cheerful as ever sir, if I was. I hope I’m thankful — but I don’t like to hear the North Pole run down in such a sloppy place as this. It was very clean and snowy at the North Pole — and it’s very damp and sandy here. Do you never miss your bone soup now, sir?
I
do. It mightn’t have been strong; but it was very hot, and the cold seemed to give it a kind of a meaty flavour as it went down. (CRAYFORD
coughs.
) Was it you that was a-coughing so long last night, sir? I don’t presume to say anything against the air of this place — but I should be glad to know it wasn’t you that was a-coughing so hollow. Would you be so obliging as just to feel the state of these ropes with the ends of your fingers, sir? You can dry them afterwards on the back of my jacket.

Cray.
You ought to have a stick laid across the back of your jacket. Take that box down to the boat directly. A croaking vagabond! He would have grumbled in the Garden of Eden.

John Want.
I could be cheerful anywhere, sir. But you mark my words — there must have been a deal of troublesome work with the flower-beds in the Garden of Eden. (
Exit, with the box.
)

Cray.
(
looking at his watch
). Two o’clock! Steventon ought to be here directly with my instructions from the ship. They would be the most welcome instructions I ever received in my life, if they would only tell me how to keep Clara Burnham in ignorance of the truth. A chance word on the voyage home may ruin every precaution we have taken. A chance word may tell her, at any moment, that, of all the Arctic Expedition, Frank Aldersley and Richard Wardour are the only missing men!

Enter
LUCY,
hurriedly, from the beach.

Lucy.
Clara is following me, William, to this place! She is not satisfied with what I have told her. She insists on hearing from your own lips of the circumstances under which Frank is missing. Pray, be careful! pray, prevent her from discovering the dreadful truth!

Cray.
One word, Lucy. So far as this unhappy young lady is concerned, are
you
concealing any part of the truth from
me?
When you told me of Clara Burnham’s illness in England, I thought you spoke with a certain reserve.

Lucy.
I did speak with a certain reserve. I shrank from telling you the worst — and I was wrong. So much depends now upon your discretion, that I have no choice but to confide everything to you. Clara’s illness in England was an illness of the mind, William, as well as of the body. She was more than once the subject of one of those mysterious nervous seizures, which, for want of a better word to describe it, I must call a Trance. While in that state she firmly believed that she saw you all, at the time when the expedition was lost at the North Pole.

Cray.
Saw us? Dreamed of us, you mean?

Lucy.
You will probably hear from herself what she saw — or dreamed — call it which you like. Let me get on, and warn you of the state of mind she is in now. We left Devonshire, and tried the effect on her of change of air and scene. The change did little towards making her stronger or happier — but it altered the state of her health very remarkably in one respect. After leaving our old house, the attacks I mentioned vanished as mysteriously as they had come. And, from that day to this, they have never appeared again.

Cray.
So far then, at least, she is altered for the better?

Lucy.
In one respect, William, she is altered for the worse. She laments the change in her health, over which all the rest of us rejoice. She longs — she even prays — that the dreadful death-in-life, which used to strike her in the bygone time, may come again. In plainer words, she firmly believes, if the trances could be renewed, that the darkness in which Frank’s fate is enveloped would be at an end, and that she would know for certain whether he is a dead or a living man.

Cray.
What death does she fear for him? Death by shipwreck? Death in the frozen desert?

Lucy
(
dropping her voice to a whisper
). No. Death at the hands of Richard Wardour!

Cray.
(
aside
).
Can
she have seen us? Her doubt of Wardour, and my doubt of Wardour, are one and the same!

Lucy
(
looking round towards the beach
). Hush! she is coming. In Heaven’s name, say nothing to encourage the frightful suspicion that possesses her, if she confides it to
you.

Enter
CLARA,
from the bench.

Clara.
Lucy, where is your brother? (
Sees, and approaches,
CRAYFORD.) Ah, I have found you at last! I have been longing to see you all the morning.

Cray.
My dear young lady, I am entirely at your service.

Clara
(
placing herself on
CRAYFORD’S
right hand, while
LUCY
stands at his left
). You are Lucy’s brother — and you have an interest in me, for Lucy’s sake. You are a brave man, and you shrink from giving pain to a girl like me. Lieutenant Crayford, will you believe that I have courage enough to hear the worst? Will you promise not to deceive me about Frank?

Lucy
(
aside to
CRAYFORD). Spare her, William — spare her!

Cray
(
uneasily
). My dear Miss Burnham! what have I done, that you should suspect me of deceiving you?

Clara
(
aside
). His colour changes! His answer is no answer at all! (
Walks apart thoughtfully.
) If I could speak to one of his brother-officers, I might find out the truth.

Enter
STEVENTON,
with
MRS. STEVENTON
and
ROSE,
from the beach. They are followed by two Sailors, carrying a basket, who arrange refreshments on the rude table at the left, and go out.

Cray.
A welcome interruption, Lucy! (MRS. S.
and
ROSE
descend the stage on the left, and talk with
LUCY. CRAYFORD
continues, addressing
STEVENTON.) You bring me my instructions from the ship?

Stev.
Verbal instructions only. The ship will sail with the flood tide. We shall fire a gun to collect the people, and send a boat ashore. In the mean time, there are some refreshments for the ladies. The ship is in a state of confusion — they will eat their lunch more comfortably here.

Clara
(
who has roused herself on
STEVENTON’S
entrance, and who has been looking at him while he speaks, addresses
MRS. STEVENTON,
but without moving from her place
). Caroline, can you spare your husband for a moment? I want to speak to him.

Mrs. S.
He is at your service, my dear. (CLARA
and
STEVENTON
walk up the right-hand side of the cave together.
) Lucy, Rose and I want to explore the inner cavern here. Will you join us? (LUCY,
who has been anxiously directing
CRAYFORD’S
attention to
CLARA
and
STEVENTON,
shakes her head.
) No? You have seen it already? Come, Rose!

(
Exeunt
MRS. S.
and
ROSE,
left.
)

Lucy
(
to
CRAYFORD). Clara is going to put you to the test, William — in the presence of your brother-officer!

Cray.
Don’t be alarmed. I have warned Steventon — he knows what to say.

(CLARA
and
STEVENTON
descend the stage again on the right,
CLARA
placing herself between
CRAYFORD
and
STEVENTON.)

Clara (
after looking at them alternately, speaks in a troubled voice, but with resolute self-possession of manner
). I will promise not to distress you, gentlemen. Young as I am, you shall find I am capable of self-control. (
To
CRAYFORD.) Your dear sister has told me all about Frank that you told
her.
But I want to hear it again from your lips, and (
indicating
STEVENTON) from yours. I won’t ask you to go far back into the story of your past sufferings. I will only refer you to the time when you had determined to send out an exploring party from the hut. Lucy tells me you cast lots among yourselves who was to go, and who was to stay. And Frank cast the lot to go. And (
pauses, shuddering
) — Richard Wardour cast the lot to stay. On your honour, as officers and gentlemen, is this the truth?

Cray.
On my honour, it is the truth.

Stev.
On my honour, it is the truth.

Clara.
After many weary days of marching, the exploring party stopped, and held a council, whether to continue the journey or to return to the hut. Some returned to the hut, and some bravely continued the journey. Frank was one among the bravest — one who went on. And those who went on are now, of all the expedition, the only missing men. On you honour again, yes? or no?

Cray.
On my honour, yes.

Stev.
On my honour, yes.