LITMIR.BIZ

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the colour mostly gone out of it. The time is an hour after that of Act II.

      SCENE II.

      (THWAITES, an elderly butler (English), is discovered lighting a lamp; lifts lamp on table. He places it on table above fireplace. To him comes down the stair the French maid, FELICE. She speaks broken English.)

      FELICE (on staircase, excited, but cautious). Mr. Thwaites! Mr. Thwaites! What shall I do? (At foot of stairs.) His lordship, he say to me, where is Lady Barbara? I say, she is in her room. (Looking at door.) He say, let her know that Captain Halliwell is here. I say I go, and I come, but all the time I know that Lady Barbara is nowhere.

      THWAITES (a stolid man). Is she not in her room?

      FELICE. Non! Nor is she anywhere in the house. She have gone — vanished away — for hours —

      THWAITES. It’s queer.

      FELICE. It is the deuce.

      THWAITES. I have heard talk of some secret passage out of the castle that was used, they say, in Jacobite days. But I never found it.

      FELICE. Perhaps she — found it?

      THWAITES. The door is handier.

      FELICE. Ah, you think so! But I say to myself there may be ways! It all depend if she have a lover — then there is always ways?

      (From some distance, song begins to be played on the bagpipes THWAITES and FELICE chuckle and smile to each other.)

      That song — again!

      (She catches THWAITES’ right arm and they dance round once.)

      THWAITES. Halliwell’s own men play it to badger him! Well, unlucky in war, it’s said, lucky in love.

      (Music dies away.)

      FELICE. Love! No, no. She does not love Dick Halliwell. She never jumps at mention of his name.

      THWAITES. Jumps?

      FELICE. Mais oui. It is the proof. You say to me ‘ William’ — I do not jump. You say to me — what is your name?

      THWAITES. Samuel.

      FELICE. You say to me ‘Samuel’ — I do not jump. But there is the name François. (Clasps her hands.) It is long ago — he is in France — France! And I am here among savages — he is married with much children and he is grown very fat — but still at his name I jump — not very much now — but a little jump to the sweet memory of love. (She says ‘ François’ sweetly to herself and gives a little jump.) Voilà!

      (She goes off. Bagpipes off commence again, THWAITES exits smiling. Presently the panel picture is cautiously slid hack and we see BABBIE peering out of the blackness behind, a lighted candle in her hand. The picture is not a big one. She can just get through. She is in the gipsy dress and is pale and very frightened. After closing panel she steals down and blows out light and puts candlestick on table. Seeing that there is no one about she goes to door, when she realises that there is someone in the room. In desperation she quickly lies down on couch, pulls rugs over her to conceal costume, and pretends to be asleep. At that point music has died away, FELICE comes out, suddenly sees her and gives a little squeal of surprise, then stands looking at BABBIE with an expressive face. BABBIE, affecting sleep, yawns and moves on couch, which unfortunately exposes some of gipsy dress, at which FELICE stares, BABBIE sees dress and hurriedly conceals it, but this exposes her bare foot. She takes a peep at FELICE and pretends to sleep again, not knowing what else to do.

      FELICE goes up stage and takes chair above writing-table and sits at head of couch.)

      BABBIE (assuming surprise). Is that you, Felice?

      FELICE. Not if my lady does not wish it.

      BABBIE. What are you doing? (Looking away from her.)

      FELICE. I thought, my lady, you might wish to dress — unless you are already dressed.

      BABBIE (flinging up the sponge).! THINK! SHALL RAISE YOUR wages, Felice.

      FELICE. You are very good, my lady. (Curious) I did not see you enter.

      BABBIE. Didn’t you? (Shuddering) Felice, I have had such a dreadful adventure. A man —

      FELICE (delighted and with interest). A man, my lady?

      BABBIE. I have just escaped from the clutches of a wild, ferocious man who was dragging me here — (Holding rug up to neck.)

      FELICE. Here! To your own home?

      BABBIE (very seriously frightened). He did not know that! He has nearly broken my arm. (In trouble about gavin.) But there is worse than that — thoughtless fool that I have been.

      THWAITES (off). What name, sir?

      GAVIN (off). Mr. Dishart.

      (BABBIE, hearing this, hurries off. FELICE moves chair back to table. Enter THWAITES, followed by GAVIN.)

      THWAITES. I will tell his lordship you are here, sir.

      (THWAITES goes up the stairs, GAVIN puts hat on chair in entrance and coming forward sees FELICE, who is pretending to be occupied and is wondering whether this newcomer is connected with the escapade.)

      GAVIN (as soon as THWAITES has disappeared). Girl — quick, tell me — the gipsy — is she here?

      FELICE (in a quiver). But what gipsy, sir?

      GAVIN. She is not! (Relieved, he sits on couch.)

      FELICE. Some of the gipsies around here I know. There is Black Annie.

      (He turns away.)

      Mysy, Babbie —— — (Sympathetic) Oh, sir —

      (She hesitates. Then gleefully points at door, and GAVIN is going excited to it when THWAITES reappears on stair.)

      THWAITES (at foot of stairs). His lordship will see you, sir, in a few minutes. (He goes off.)

      GAVIN. She is there? (FELICE nods sympathetically. He hesitates.) Please go away. (She reluctantly goes toward entrance. Turns to her) Why did you tell me?

      FELICE. You jump! (Clasps hands, sighs, and — disappears by entrance.)

      (GAVIN boldly opens door.)

      GAVIN. Babbie! (Backs from door.)

      (BABBIE comes out in trouble to foot of couch.)

      BABBIE (miserably ashamed of herself). Oh, why DID YOU come here?

      GAVIN (manfully). To save you, Babbie, have no fear. I heard what Rob Dow had done, and I followed. Courage, I am by your side. I will compel them to set you free.

      BABBIE (who can’t help being amused, but touched). Oh, the dear man you are.

      GAVIN (quickly). Am I, Babbie, am I — to you?

      BABBIE. Perhaps. But you are a minister — and I — (She is in abject distress.) The very birds on the moors would laugh at it. If you could only laugh at it, too, my dear! (Imploringly.)

      GAVIN. All I know is that you said ‘my dear.’ babbie. I shouldn’t have said it — I don’t even know that I meant it. Naughty things leap out of me, Mr. Dishart — and I can’t overtake them. I wish I could. (Turns to him.)

      GAVIN (going to her). I will overtake them for you.

      BABBIE (smiling sweetly). I should keep you running about all your life.

      GAVIN (laughing). It is what I have been doing this last week and more.

      BABBIE (laughing, impulsively). It was fun, wasn’t it?

      (Stops laughing, remorseful) There! That is another one! I am bitterly ashamed. I never thought until that boy — and then the man! I never dreamt that I was placing you in danger. If you could say that you forgive me — the gipsy girl. I wasn’t a woman on that mad moonlight night when I came dancing into your life. I was just a wild thing too full of glee. You don’t blame the birds when they

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