Complete Works of Wilkie Collins (2051 page)

THE END OF THE SECOND ACT

ACT III. — THE YACHT.

SCENE. —
The sitting-room of
MIDWINTER’S
lodgings in Naples. At the back of the stage in the centre a large open window of French construction, supposed to look out on the sea. Noting is seen by the audience through the window but a cloudless blue sky, and the extreme horizon of the sea. A door at the side, on the right, leading into
MISS GWILT’S (MRS. MIDWINTER’S)
room. A door opposite on the left, through which the other characters enter and leave the stage. The room is large and sparely furnished in the Italian manner. The ceiling is painted with Cupids and allegorical figures. The floor is covered with matting. Grimy old pictures hang on the walls. Two statues on pedestals, and two antique chairs, stand on either side of the window, which must have no curtains. An old-fashioned sofa near the front of the stage on the right. On the left, a large empty fireplace to burn wood when used. On one side of it a piano. Above it a heavy marble mantelpiece, with ancient vases and a large clock. A mirror above the clock, in a faded Renaissance frame. At the front of the stage, on the left, a small table and two easy chairs of more modern construction than the rest of the furniture. A waste-paper basket under the table, with old newspapers crammed into it.

At the rise of the curtain
MIDWINTER
is discovered at the table on the left, writing. His wife is seated at his side with an Italian newspaper in her hand.
ALLAN,
dressed in yachting costume, lies at full length upon the large sofa on the right, smoking a cigar. The air of the Neapolitan “Tarantella” is heard outside the window, in the street beneath, the music gradually diminishing in tone until all sound of it is lost in the distance.

Six weeks are supposed to have elapsed between the Second Act and the Third.

MIDWINTER (
to his
WIFE).

I wish these cheerful Neapolitan people were not quite so fond of their national melodies! It is no easy task, Lydia, to write news for the English public with that musical accompaniment in the street.

MISS G.

Don’t write any more, love! You have done nothing but work, work, work, for the last three days. The newspaper is making a perfect slave of you. (MIDWINTER
smiles, and looks up from his writing.
)

MID.

I think I have done at last. Stop! Have I included my extracts from the Italian newspapers?

MISS G.

Long since! The Italian newspapers are all in the waste-paper basket.

MID.

What do I see in your hand, dear?

MISS G.

I declare I had forgotten it, though it
is
in my hand! (
Reading the title.
) “The Leghorn Gazette.” Pah! the sight of it is quite enough, and the smell of it is perfectly odious! (
She stoops to throw the paper into the basket.
)

MID.

Stop! stop! I must look through it first.

MISS G. (
eagerly
).

Let me look through it for you! I will read the whole newspaper if you wish it.

MID.

There is not the least necessity, my dear, to read half of it. I always put a mark in ink against the passages that I may want to quote. If you see an ink-line on the margin anywhere, read me the marked paragraph.

MISS G. (
looking over the first page of the paper
).

No ink lines so far. (
Folding back the first page, and looking at the second.
) Here is a marked passage! Dear me, what a strange story of the loss of a ship!

ALLAN (
from the sofa
).

A ship! That interests
me.
Read it in English, Mrs. Midwinter. I have learnt to swear in Italian, and there my acquaintance with the language ends.

MISS G. (
to
MID.)

Do
you
wish me to translate it?

MID.

Certainly, my love, if Allan wishes it.

MISS G. (
translating from the newspaper, aloud
).

“Foundering of the brig ‘Speranza’ off the coast of Leghorn. — An extraordinary confession has been made in connection with the loss of this vessel by one of the crew. The man gave himself up to the police yesterday. He declares that the brig was intentionally sunk off the coast on a dark night by boring holes in the bottom of the vessel. And he adds that the captain was locked into his cabin when the crew took to the boats, and was purposely left to drown in the brig. The object of this atrocity appears to have been plunder. The captain was discovered to be in possession of a sum of money of which he had privately taken charge, and the mate and crew agreed to rob and murder him in the manner described. Further particulars will appear in our next number.”

ALLAN.

Infernal scoundrels! If you write about them, Midwinter, take a high moral tone. Say you hope they will all be hanged!

MID.

Let me be sure, Allan, that they deserve hanging first. We will wait and see what appears in the next number. (
To his
WIFE.) Fold the paper, Lydia, with the marked passage uppermost, and put it here by my desk. (
He rises and crosses to
ALLAN,
who gets up and meets him.
MISS G.
puts
MID.’S
writing materials in order.
)

ALLAN (
to
MID.).

I have got some news for you. Don’t be alarmed — it isn’t news for the English papers. I have settled to hire the new yacht, and somehow or other I have picked up a crew. It has been hard work to get the vessel ready for sea.

MID.

Ready for sea! I thought the repairs were not even begun yet.

(MISS G.
leaves the writing-table and approaches
ALLAN
and
MID.)

ALLAN (
putting his hand on
MIDWINTER’S
shoulder
).

My dear fellow, you are confusing the crazy little vessel I sailed in from England, and sent back again, with the fine new yacht that I hired a week since in the port of Naples.

MISS G. (
putting
ALLAN’S
hand off
MIDWINTER’S
shoulder
).

When you have quite done with him, Mr. Armadale, perhaps you will allow
me
to say a word?

MID. (
smiling at her petulance
).

My dear Lydia!

ALLAN (
aside
).

Mrs. Midwinter does’nt love me. Never mind. Miss Milroy does. (
To
MISS G.) Do you believe in dreams? I dreamt of Miss Milroy last night.

MISS G. (
aside
).

He is always talking of Miss Milroy! (ALLAN
returns to the sofa, whilst
MISS G.
continues to
MID.) What shall we do to-morrow?

MID.

To-morrow? Let me see, to-morrow I must go to Capua.

MISS G.

Not without me?

MID.

Of course not!

ALLAN (
from the sofa
).

What is going on at Capua?

MID.

Excavations in the neighbourhood are going on. I have promised to send a report to the newspaper. (
To his
WIFE.) We will go to-morrow, my dear, and sleep at Capua, and come back the next day.

ALLAN.

Ah! that is just the sort of excursion Miss Milroy would like. I wish they could discover
her
at Capua!

MISS G. (
aside
).

Miss Milroy
again!
(
To
MID.) To-morrow let it be. (
Whispering.
) I want to give you a kiss. Get rid of Armadale!

MID. (
whispering back
).

Poor Allan! Have some mercy on him.

ALLAN (
from the sofa
).

How long have you been married, Midwinter?

MISS G. (
answering for her husband
).

A month to-day, Mr. Armadale.

ALLAN.

When is it customary and proper for newly-married couples to leave off whispering in the presence of a third person?

MID. (
laughing
).

Don’t be severe, Allan! I confess we deserve it. (MISS G.
leaves him.
) Are you going away?

MISS G.

I may as well look out the dress I shall want for to-morrow. (
Whispering.
) Leave him, and come and help me to pack.

MID.

As much packing as you like, if you will only give me time. I must post my letters, and I must ask at the office about conveyances to Capua. (
Goes to the table and remains there, addressing and stamping his letters.
)

ALLAN (
rising
).

Talking about posting letters, I sometimes think I will write to Mr. Darch, at Thorpe-Ambrose.

MID. (
surprised
).

Have you never written to him yet?

ALLAN.

Not a line. I left Mr. Darch in charge of everything when I went to London with you and your wife. I got all my money in London, and there was nothing else to write about. There would be no reason for writing now if I wasn’t so anxious for news of Miss Milroy.

MISS G. (
aside
).

Again! The idiot can talk of nothing else!

ALLAN (
to
MISS G.,
noticing her impatience
).

I hope I am not in the way here, Mrs. Midwinter? You needn’t stand on any ceremony with an old friend like me. I only want five minutes’ quiet talk with your husband.

MISS G. (
with sudden suspicion of
ALLAN’S
motives
).

Does “quiet talk,” Mr. Armadale, mean talk with him in private?

ALLAN (
speaking in his usual easy tone
).

Talk with him in private?
I
have no secrets! There is no mystery about
me.

(
He turns away, entirely unconscious of having given offence, and walks towards the window.
)

MISS G. (
aside
).

He
has no secrets? No mystery about
him?
He looked me straight in the face when he said those words! What do they mean? Has he been prying into my past life? (
To
ALLAN.) I leave you, Mr. Armadale, to your “quiet talk” with your friend.

(
She kisses her hand to
MIDWINTER,
and goes out on the right.
)