Complete Works of Wilkie Collins (2020 page)

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!

(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.)

THE SECOND SCENE.

DATE: September 4, 1862.
PLACE: The smoking-room at Blackwater Park.

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
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.)
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.)

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.

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?