LITMIR.BIZ

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      MARIANO

      Beckoss once I have hear them spik Russian togezzer.

      RIBIERE

      I think there is small chance that they recognize my employer. His portrait is little known.

      MARIANO

      And this North American who come in the automobile—does he know who he travel wiz? Does he know his Highness?

      RIBIERE

      No more than the baby which is not borned.

      MARIANO

      [lifting his eyes to heaven]

      Ah!

      RIBIERE

      [looking at his watch]

      Set déjeuner on [pg 019] the terrace instantly when he arrive: a perch, petit pois, iced figs, tea. I will send his own caviar and vodka from the supplies I carry.

      MARIANO

      I set for one?

      RIBIERE

      For two. He desires that the North American breakfast with him. Do not forget that the incognito is to be absolute.

      [Exit into hotel.]

      MARIANO

      Va bene, Signore!

      [Puts finishing-touches to the table.]

      [Enter from the grove, LORD HAWCASTLE. He is a well-preserved man of fifty-six with close-clipped gray mustache and gray hair; his eyes are quick and shrewd; his face shows some slight traces of high living; he carries himself well and his general air is distinguished and high-bred. He wears a suit of thinly striped white flannel and white shoes, a four-in-hand tie of pale old-rose crape, a Panama hat with broad ribbon striped with white and old-rose of the same shade as his tie. His accent is that of a man of the world, and quite without affectation. [pg 020] He comes at once upon his entrance to a chair at the table.]

      [MICHELE enters at same time up left, with a folded newspaper.]

      HAWCASTLE

      [as he enters]

      Good-morning, Mariano!

      MARIANO

      [bowing]

      Milor' Hawcastle is serve.

      [Takes HAWCASTLE'S hat and places it upon a stool behind table.]

      MICHELE

      [hands HAWCASTLE newspaper from under his arm]

      Il Mattino, the morning journal from Napoli, Milor'.

      HAWCASTLE

      [accepting paper and unfolding it]

      No English papers?

      MICHELE

      Milor', the mail is late.

      [Exit up left.]

      HAWCASTLE

      [sitting]

      And Madame de Champigny?

      [MARIANO serves coffee, etc.]

      [As HAWCASTLE speaks the COMTESSE DE CHAMPIGNY enters from hotel. She is a pretty Frenchwoman of thirty-two. She wears a fashionable summer Parisian morning dress, light and gay in color, a short-sleeved little Empire jacket, and long [pg 021] gloves. She carries a parasol. Her elaborately dressed hair is surmounted by a jaunty Parisian toque.]

      MADAME DE CHAMPIGNY

      [lifting her hand gayly as she enters, and striking a little attitude before she descends the steps]

      Me voici!

      HAWCASTLE

      [half rising and bowing]

      My esteemed relative is still asleep?

      MADAME DE CHAMPIGNY

      [speaking gayly, with a very slight accent, as she crosses to a chair at the table]

      I trust your beautiful son has found much better employment—as our hearts would wish him to.

      HAWCASTLE

      He has. He's off on a canter with the little American, thank God!

      MADAME DE CHAMPIGNY

      [interjecting the word]

      Bravo!

      [She turns the hands of her gloves back and sips coffee, MARIANO serving.]

      HAWCASTLE

      [continuing]

      But I didn't mean Almeric. I meant my august sister-in-law.

      [He reads the paper.]

      MADAME DE CHAMPIGNY

      [smiling]

      The amiable Lady Victoria Hermione Trevelyan Creech has déjeuner in her apartment. What you find to read?

      HAWCASTLE

      I'm such a duffer at Italian, but [pg 022] apparently the people along the coast are having a scare over an escaped convict—a Russian.

      MARIANO

      [starting slightly, drops a spoon noisily upon a plate on the table]

      Pardon, Milor'!

      MADAME DE CHAMPIGNY

      [setting down her coffee abruptly]

      A Russian?

      HAWCASTLE

      [translating with difficulty]

      "An escaped Russian bandit has been traced to Castellamare—"

      [Pauses.]

      MARIANO

      [awe-struck]

      Castellamare—not twelve kilometres from here!

      HAWCASTLE

      [continuing]

      "—and a confidential agent"—

      [looking up]

      —secret-service man, I dare say—"has requested his arrest. But the brigand tore himself"—

      [repeating slowly]

      —"tore himself"—What the deuce does that mean?

      MARIANO

      [bowing]

      Pardon, Milor'—if I might—

      HAWCASTLE

      Quite right, Mariano!

      [Handing him the paper.]

      Translate for us.

      MARIANO

      [reading rapidly, but with growing agitation which he tries to conceal]

      "The brigan' tore himself from the hands of the carabiniere and without the doubts he conceal himself in some of those grotto near Sorrento and searchment is being execute'. [pg 023] The agent of the Russian embassy have inform' the bureau that this escaped one is a mos' in-fay-mose robber and danger brigand."

      MADAME DE CHAMPIGNY

      [quickly]

      What name does the journal say he has?

      MARIANO

      [hurriedly]

      It has not to say. That is all. Will Milor' and Madame la Comtesse excuse me? And may I take the journal? There is one who should see it.

      HAWCASTLE

      [indifferently]

      Very well.

      MARIANO

      Thank you, Milor'!

      [Bows hastily and hurries out up left.]

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