Complete Works of Wilkie Collins (2012 page)

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 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?

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!

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 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?