Complete Works of Wilkie Collins (2011 page)

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 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 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.)

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!

THE CURTAIN FALLS.

THE END OF THE PROLOGUE

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.

ACT I.

DATE: June 30, 1862.
PLACE: Limmeridge Park, Cumberland.

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!

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.

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 —
 
—