Complete Works of Wilkie Collins (2005 page)

Enter a Maid-servant on the left.

The Servant.
A gentleman to see you, ma’am.

Mag.
Show him in.

(WRAGGE
enters on the left in a new black suit, with a large frill to his shirt, and a new hat and cane; dressed as a quack doctor.
)

Wragge.
Charmed, my dear girl, to see you again! (
Shaking hands with her.
) Upon my life this is very pleasant. Like old times, isn’t it?

Mag.
(
looking at him in surprise
). Captain Wragge —
 
—

Wragge
(
interrupting her
). Doctor Wragge, if you please.

Mag.
What does this change mean?

Wragge.
My dear child, human life is one perpetual change. The animal economy, as we doctors say, is always throwing off particles, and putting other particles on. I have done with Moral Agriculture, and I have taken to Medical Agriculture instead. Formerly I preyed on the public sympathy. Now I prey on the public stomach. A word in your ear — the public stomach pays.

Mag.
I don’t understand you.

Wragge.
I will make myself clear. The founders of my fortunes are three in number. Their names are Aloes, Scammony, and Gamboge. In plainer words, I am now living — on a Pill! You settled with me liberally, if you remember, my dear, when you left Aldborough with Mr. George Bartram? Very good. I invested my capital in a horse and phaeton; I purchased my drugs and pill-boxes on credit; and, from that time to this, I have scoured the country in my phaeton, with the cheapest pill that has ever been sold in England. Mrs. Wragge accompanies me, in the form of a living advertisement of the virtues of Scammony and Gamboge. She is the afflicted woman whom I have cured of indescribable agonies from every malady under the sun. I issue her portrait on the wrappers of the boxes, with a neat inscription, thus: “Before she took the Pill you might have blown this patient away with a feather. Look at her now!” What are the results? Five hundred thousand boxes of Pills have gamboged the population already. And here am I, with my clothes paid for, and a balance at the bank — solvent, flourishing, popular, and all on a Pill!

Mag.
Am I to understand from this, that it is no longer your interest to help me?

Wragge.
By no means. In the first place, I look upon you as my niece. My niece may rely on me. In the second place, additional capital is always welcome in a vast enterprise like mine. The old terms, my dear, command the old services, provided you don’t interfere with the sale of the Pill. You got my letter from St. Crux?

Mag.
Your letter fails to answer my inquiries. You have found out that Admiral Bartram keeps the Trust at St. Crux under lock and key — but you have not discovered for me the person who is named in the Trust. You must go back to Yorkshire.

Wragge.
I am going back professionally, to prey on the public stomach. As to my going back to the admiral’s house — useless! Impossible to find out the person named in the Trust without seeing the Trust itself.

Mag.
Well?

Wragge.
Well — the one way of making any further discoveries is to get, unsuspected, into the house. I can’t do that.

Mag.
Somebody must do it.

Wragge.
Exactly. Somebody must do it. (
He takes a newspaper out of his pocket.
) I have got a little surprise in store for you. Don’t look at the newspaper — look at me. Could you assume a disguise of a sort that would be quite new to you?

Mag.
Yes.

Wragge.
Could you resist Mr. George Bartram — if he happened to discover you?

Mag.
Ask your own experience. Did I resist George Bartram at Aldborough? But for him, I should never have gone back to Norah and Miss Garth. But for him, I should have found my way to my own death, in spite of you all!

Wragge
(
aside
). Nota bene — beware of Mr. George Bartram! (
To
MAGDALEN.) I won’t ask you to resist him. Could you keep out of his way, if he happened to be looking for you?

Mag.
(
with an effort
). Yes — if the object was worth the sacrifice.

Wragge.
The object is to discover the person named in the Trust. As for the sacrifice, read that advertisement, and judge for yourself.

(
He points to the place, and gives her the newspaper.
)

Mag.
(
reading aloud
). “Wanted a parlour-maid. Young and active, with a good character. Address by letter (with written references enclosed), the Housekeeper, St. Crux Abbey, St. Crux-in-the-Marsh, Yorkshire.”

(
A pause.
)

Wragge.
Do you understand now?

Mag.
(
thoughtfully
). Perfectly. (
She hands back the newspaper.
) The parlour-maid would have opportunities of getting at the admiral’s keys. On the face of it, it looks a mean thing to do. It’s a theft.

Wragge.
It’s a forced loan — nothing more. You borrow his keys — and return them. You look at the Trust — and put it back again. Who is injured by that?

Mag.
(
to herself
). It’s our money, disposed of without our knowledge. If I can discover the person who has got it; if I can influence the person who has got it — Norah’s recovery is provided for. (
To
WRAGGE.) Where are you to find the references which secure me the place?

Wragge.
Leave that to me.

Mag.
Is there no other obstacle in the way?

Wragge.
None that I know of.

Mag.
Remember Aldborough! (
She pauses, shuddering.
) Suppose Mrs. Lecount should cross my path for the second time?

Wragge.
Mrs. Lecount has retired to live on her means in her native place — Zurich. She will find the lake nice and handy — just the thing for trying the Theory of Floating Vessels!

Mag.
How long can you give me to decide

Wragge.
Decide to-day. The post goes out at six.

Mag.
Where can I meet you at five o’clock? A quiet place, away from this part of London.

Wragge.
Go to Gray’s Inn. Ask the porter at the gate to direct you to Field Court. You will find me there. Anything more?

Mag.
Leave me! Miss Garth will be coming back. Mr. Pendril may call. Field Court —
 
—

Wragge.
At five o’clock. (
He goes out on the left.
)

Mag.
(
after a pause
). George! What will George think of me? (
She checks herself with an impatient stamp of her foot.
) What has he to do with it? I must, and will, decide for myself! (
She takes a turn on the stage.
) The motive is a righteous one. I’ll do it! (
She seats herself at the table and takes up the pen.
) A line to tell them not to be uneasy about me. A kiss to Norah — and the first cab that passes will take me to Gray’s Inn. (
She writes a few lines and stops.
) Suppose George should come to St. Crux, while I am there? Suppose George should find me — disguised as a servant; employed as a spy? (
She rises and throws down the pen.
) I won’t do it!

Enter the Maid-servant on the left

The Servant.
Mr. Pendril, ma’am.

Mag.
Show Mr. Pendril in. (
The Servant goes out.
) He knows George’s movements. He can tell me if there is any fear of my meeting George at St. Crux.

Enter
MR. PENDRIL.

Mr. P.
Don’t let me disturb you, Magdalen. Can I speak to Miss Garth?

Mag.
She will be back directly, if you don’t mind waiting. (
She adds timidly.
) We were talking of George this morning. Have you seen him lately?

Mr. P.
I have seen him to-day. He has just returned from St. Crux.

Mag.
Returned? I thought this was the shooting season.

Mr. P.
Quite right. George goes back for the shooting — in a fortnight’s time.

Mag.
(
aside
). A fortnight? — an eternity! I’ll do it. (
To
MR. PENDRIL) I have a note to write. Will you excuse me?

Mr. P.
One word before you take up your pen. Have you, by any chance, heard anything more of that vagabond, Wragge?

Mag.
(
starting
). What do you mean?

Mr. P.
I can’t be quite sure — but I thought I saw somebody like him crossing the street as I came up to this door.

Mag.
Impossible. You must have been mistaken. (
She turns towards the left entrance.
) Here is Miss Garth.

MISS GARTH
enters on the left.
MAGDALEN
goes back to the writing-table and finishes her note.

Miss G.
(
advancing to shake hands
). Mr. Pendril! (
She looks at him, and suddenly lowers her voice.
) Your face tells me you have something serious to say. Bad news?

Mr. P.
(
looking towards
MAGDALEN,
and speaking in an undertone.
) Don’t alarm yourself. I want to speak to you alone.

Mag.
(
rising, and addressing
MISS GARTH,
with the letter folded in her hand
). Have you any message for Norah? I am going to see if she wants anything.

Miss G.
No. (MAGDALEN
goes out on the right.
MISS GARTH
continues to
MR. PENDRIL.) Your news! your news!

Mr. P.
You have borne sorrow, Miss Garth — can you bear joy?

Miss G.
Tell me at once. In the plainest language — in the fewest words.