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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..345a815 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #53794 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/53794) diff --git a/old/53794-0.txt b/old/53794-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 896b70d..0000000 --- a/old/53794-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3758 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Within the Gates, by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Within the Gates - -Author: Elizabeth Stuart Phelps - -Release Date: December 23, 2016 [EBook #53794] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WITHIN THE GATES *** - - - - -Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images available at The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - _FICTION AND BIOGRAPHY_ - - By Elizabeth Stuart Phelps - - (MRS. WARD) - - - THE GATES AJAR. 16mo, $1.50. - - BEYOND THE GATES. 16mo, $1.25. - - THE GATES BETWEEN. 16mo, $1.25. - - WITHIN THE GATES. A Drama. 12mo, $1.25. - - MEN, WOMEN, AND GHOSTS. Stories. 16mo, $1.50. - - HEDGED IN. 16mo, $1.50. - - THE SILENT PARTNER. 16mo, $1.50. - - THE STORY OF AVIS. 16mo, $1.50. - - SEALED ORDERS, and Other Stories. 16mo, $1.50. - - FRIENDS: A Duet. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents. - - DOCTOR ZAY. 16mo, $1.25. - - AN OLD MAID’S PARADISE, and BURGLARS IN PARADISE. 16mo, $1.25. - - THE MASTER OF THE MAGICIANS. Collaborated with HERBERT D. WARD. - 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents. - - COME FORTH! Collaborated with HERBERT D. WARD. 16mo, $1.25; paper, - 50 cents. - - FOURTEEN TO ONE. Short Stories. 16mo, $1.25. - - DONALD MARCY. 16mo, $1.25. - - A SINGULAR LIFE. 16mo, $1.25. - - THE SUPPLY AT SAINT AGATHA’S. Illustrated. Square 12mo, $1.00. - - THE MADONNA OF THE TUBS. Illustrated. Square 12mo, boards, 75 - cents. - - JACK THE FISHERMAN. Illustrated. Square 12mo, boards, 50 cents. - - THE SUCCESSORS OF MARY THE FIRST. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.50. - - LOVELINESS: A Story. Illustrated. Square 12mo, $1.00. - - CHAPTERS FROM A LIFE. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.50. - - THE STORY OF JESUS CHRIST: An Interpretation. Illustrated. Crown - 8vo, $2.00. - - THE SAME. _Popular Edition._ Illustrated. 16mo, $1.25. - - - HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. - BOSTON AND NEW YORK - - - - - WITHIN THE GATES - - BY - - ELIZABETH STUART PHELPS - - [Illustration] - - BOSTON AND NEW YORK - HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY - The Riverside Press, Cambridge - 1901 - - COPYRIGHT, 1900, BY ELIZABETH STUART PHELPS WARD - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. - - -This drama has so departed from the plan of the original story, “The -Gates Between,” published by me long ago, that it is, in fact, a new -work, and has therefore received a new title.--E. S. P. W. - - - - -DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. - - - DOCTOR ESMERALD THORNE, _a city physician_. - HELEN THORNE, _his wife_. - LADDIE, _their child_. (_Between four and five years of age._) - MRS. FAYTH, _a patient of the Doctor’s, and a friend - of Mrs. Thorne’s, an invalid_. - DOCTOR GAZELL, _a hospital physician not in harmony with Dr. Thorne_. - DR. CARVER, _a young surgeon_. - MAGGIE, _a maid_. - -A Priest, Nurses, Patients, Servants, People in the Street, Spirits, the -Angel Azrael. - - - - -WITHIN THE GATES - - - - -ACT I., SCENE I. - - - A library in a city house. A dining-room opens beyond a portière. - The dinner-table is set. The library is furnished in red leather - and dark wood. Books run to the ceiling. The carpet is - indeterminate in tone. The heavy curtains are of a rich, dark - crimson. A window is to be seen. The library is littered a little - with the signs of feminine occupation. At one of the tables sits - Mrs. Thorne. She is a young and beautiful woman, of stately - presence and modest, high-bred manner. She is well-dressed--but not - over-dressed--in a tea-gown such as a lady might wear in her own - home when guests are not expected. The dress is cream-white; it - falls open over a crimson skirt. The lamps are shaded with lace of - red or of white. One with a white shade is on the table by which - she sits. Her sewing materials are lying about, among books and - magazines half-cut. She tries to sew upon a little boy’s lace - collar, but throws her work down restlessly. Her face wears a - troubled expression. - -(_She rises and crosses the room nervously; goes to the window, and -stands between the long lace curtains, looking out. She consults her -watch; speaks._) - -MRS. THORNE. It is not so very late! Hardly past six o’clock yet. What -can be the matter with me? I must not become a worrier. A doctor’s wife -can never afford to be that. - - _Enter_ MAGGIE. - -MAGGIE. Shall I serve dinner, ma’am? - -MRS. THORNE. The Doctor has not come, Maggie. We must wait--Jane will be -careful not to burn the soup. - -(_Rises and looks again restlessly out of the window; calls_:) - -Maggie! - -MAGGIE. Ma’am? - -MRS. THORNE. When you went up to light the Doctor’s candles, how did -Laddie seem? Did Molly say? - -MAGGIE. Just the same, she said. He does seem sort of miser’ble. - - [_Exit_ MAGGIE. - -MRS. THORNE. (_takes up a magazine and tries, in vain, to read; sighs, -and lays it down; takes up the little lace collar and tries to sew; -lays that down; rises_). I’ll run up again and look at the child for -myself. - - _Enter_ MAGGIE. - -MAGGIE. Mrs. Fayth, ma’am. - -_Enter_ MRS. FAYTH (_pale, sweet-faced, delicate, with the languorous -step of the half-cured invalid. She is in carriage dress, with a long, -dove-colored opera cape--rich, but plain in design. She throws off the -cape at once_). - - [_Exit_ MAGGIE. - -MRS. THORNE (_warmly embracing her friend_). Why, Mary Fayth! _You?_ At -this time of night! - -MRS. FAYTH. Yes. I--Mary Fayth--isn’t it wonderful? I haven’t been out -after sundown before for six years.... Is the Doctor in? - -MRS. THORNE. He hasn’t come yet. I am waiting for him. We never can -tell. - -MRS. FAYTH. Doesn’t the dinner get cold? - -MRS. THORNE. The dinner is subject to chronic bronchitis and acute -pneumonia. - -MRS. FAYTH. (_laughs merrily_). Acute pneu-mo-nia is good.... You were -always clever. - -MRS. THORNE. But I don’t fret. A doctor’s wife can never do that.... -Give me your cape, dear. You’ll wait for him. - -MRS. FAYTH. I did want to surprise him. He would be so pleased. My -husband calls me Doctor Thorne’s miracle. But never mind. I can’t wait -for him. I’m on my way to the Hospital Fair.... Think of that! I’m to be -let stay till half-past eight o’clock. Fred is to meet me there, and -we’re to dine at the café with the crowd and see the tableaux.... Think -of it!--like common, vulgar, healthy people. Isn’t it wonderful? To be -half alive! I have been half dead so long! Kiss me, Helen. - -MRS. THORNE. (_anxiously_). I hope you won’t pay for it to-morrow, dear. -(_Kisses her affectionately._) - -MRS. FAYTH (_cheerily_). Oh, I expect to be flat to-morrow. But it’s -worth it--to go somewhere with one’s husband ... after six years. I’m -going to the Fifteen Cent Museum next--when I get a little farther -along--some big, noisy, healthy, shabby place. Fred has promised to take -me. He dotes on the gorillas.... Well, I only ran in. The horses are -getting cold. I must go. Give my love to the Doctor--Helen! I’m going to -church when I get well. I want to hear the _Te Deum_.... It’s a good -while since I did that. They won’t let me. They put it off till the -last. Fred said I must begin with the Hospital Fair and work up through -the gorillas to re-li-gious dis-si-pa-tion. The Doctor says I’m to get -well in a sci-en-ti-fic manner; on the Law of Ev-o-lution. Poor dear -Doctor! He doesn’t care about the _Te Deum_.--Helen, I wish your husband -believed. He is so good--so kind. He ought to be a re-li-gious man. - -MRS. THORNE (_sadly, with almost imperceptible bitterness_). He is a -doctor. - -MRS. FAYTH. He is so great, you see. He is almighty to so many miserable -people.... I can understand that. His mind stops there. He is so strong, -so powerful; he works the miracles himself. - -MRS. THORNE. My husband has no time to study these questions, Mary. All -his life is given up to science, you know. I thought--when we were first -married--I could influence him in these ways. But a doctor’s wife learns -better than that. - -MRS. FAYTH. What he needs is to be half-dead. Then he would _have_ to -believe. He is too much alive, poor Doctor.... It is such a joy to be -alive, Helen! I thought I must run in and tell you. - -MRS. THORNE (_smiling affectionately_). I’ll tell him to be sure and see -you to-morrow. You’ll need it. - -MRS. FAYTH. Well, Fred can tel-e-phone. I dare say I shall be sick -enough. Good-by, dear--Helen? What ails _you_? You don’t look right -to-night. - -MRS. THORNE (_arousing_). Laddie doesn’t seem well at all. I can’t make -Esmerald believe that anything ails him. But that’s the way, you -know.... I am not allowed to be anxious. The mother of a doctor’s child -can never be that. - -MRS. FAYTH (_with quick sympathy_). Oh, I am so sorry! I know just how -you feel-- - -MRS. THORNE. You never had a child, Mary. - -MRS. FAYTH. But sick people understand everything. Oh, we know! - -MRS. THORNE. Yes. I suppose you have so much time to think. - -MRS. FAYTH. We have so much time to feel. (_Rises to leave._) - -(MRS. THORNE _puts the opera cape over her friend’s shoulders_.) - -MRS. FAYTH (_abruptly_). Helen, I was thinking to-day about Cleo. I -don’t often. - -MRS. THORNE (_pityingly_). Poor girl! I do, very often. She must have -led a cruel life with her husband. And she was so young when he died! -She really hated him--I think as much after he was dead as when he was -alive. - -MRS. FAYTH. She did not hate yours. - -MRS. THORNE (_gravely_). She was a patient. I have nothing to say. - -MRS. FAYTH. But of course she hardly made a secret of it, that she loved -the Doctor--half wrongly, half rightly. - -MRS. THORNE. Like the woman she was--half fiend, half angel-- - -MRS. FAYTH (_interrupting_). There are people who still talk about her; -they are equally divided whether she died of love or morphine. It is -said she had the opium habit. It is three years ago to-day that she -killed herself. - -MRS. THORNE. I had forgotten.... Poor Cleo! - -MRS. FAYTH. I’ve been thinking about her all day--I don’t know why. She -never liked me very well--perhaps because I _didn’t_ love the Doctor; -and so he could do so much more for me. You know how those things -go.... And you never gave her the satisfaction of one hour’s jealousy? - -MRS. THORNE (_peacefully_). How could I? I never had the materials.... -But, as you say, these things are complicated. We never know where the -end of the skein is. - -MRS. FAYTH. I will send over to-morrow and see how Laddie is. -Good-night--good-night. - -MRS. THORNE (_kisses her warmly_). I wish you would stay--I wish you -need not go. Don’t go! Mary--_don’t go_! - -[_Exit_ MRS. FAYTH (_slowly, with a sweet, -mysterious smile_). - -(MRS. THORNE _relapses into her anxious attitude and manner. Moves to -the window, and looks out again, between the curtains. While she stands -there with her back to the door, suddenly and noisily striding in._) - - _Enter_ DR. THORNE. - -DR. THORNE (_at once_). Isn’t dinner ready? - -MRS. THORNE (_turning delightedly_). Oh! At last! - -DR. THORNE. Well. You might have met me, then. - -MRS. THORNE. Why, I have been watching for you--and listening--till I’m -half blind and deaf. I have been to the window-- - -DR. THORNE. Don’t complain. I hate a complaining woman. - -MRS. THORNE (_has advanced towards him, and impulsively put up her arms! -Drops them at this and turns sadly_). I did not know I was complaining, -Esmerald. - -DR. THORNE. Most people don’t know when they are disagreeable. (_He does -not offer to kiss her; pulls off his overcoat nervously._) Isn’t dinner -ready? I am starved out. - -(MAGGIE _is seen in the dining-room hastily serving dinner_.) - -MRS. THORNE (_ringing_). Maggie had orders to put it on as soon as she -heard your wheels.... Yes. There! You poor, hungry fellow! - - _Enter_ MAGGIE. - -MAGGIE. Dinner is served, Mrs. Thorne. - -DR. THORNE. I must run up and change my coat, first--no, I won’t. I -haven’t time. I am driven to death. Come along, Helen. (_Strides out -before her; then recalls himself from his discourtesy, and steps back._ -DR. THORNE _is a tall, well-built, handsome man, of distinguished -bearing, but with a slight limp; his face is disfigured by a frown, as -he looks at his wife. He repeats_) I am driven to death! I haven’t time -to call my soul my own. - -MRS. THORNE (_archly_). I thought you hadn’t any soul, dear. Or I -thought you thought you hadn’t. - -DR. THORNE (_crossly_). Soul? Rubbish! It is more than I can do to -manage bodies. Soul? Stuff! What have you got for dinner? - -(_They seat themselves at the table._) - -MRS. THORNE. You poor boy! You poor, tired, hungry fellow! I hope the -dinner will please you? (_Timidly._) - -DR. THORNE (_testily_). Really, I hadn’t time to come at all. I’ve got -to go again in ten minutes. But I supposed you would worry if I didn’t -show myself. It’s a foolish waste of time. I wish I hadn’t come. - -MRS. THORNE (_speaking in a low, controlled, articulate voice_). You -need not. On my account. _You need never come again._ - -DR. THORNE (_irritably_). It is easier to come than to know you sit here -making yourself miserable because I don’t. - -MRS. THORNE (_gently_). Have I ever fretted you about coming, Esmerald? -I did not know it. - -DR. THORNE. It would be easier if you did fret. I’d rather you’d say a -thing than look it. Any man would.... This soup is burned! - -MRS. THORNE. Too bad! I gave special orders to Jane--that is really too -bad. Let me send it away. - -DR. THORNE (_excitedly_). No, I’ve got to get down something. Bring on -the rest--if there is anything fit to eat. I’m due at the Hospital in -twenty-two minutes. Gazell is behaving like the devil. If I’m not to -handle him, nobody can. The whole staff is afraid of him--everybody but -me. We sha’n’t get the new ward built these two years if he carries the -day to-night. I’ve got a consultation at Decker’s. The old lady is -dying. It’s no use dragging a tired man out there; I can’t do her any -good. But they will have it. I’m at the beck and call of every whim. I -wish I’d had time to change my boots! My feet are wet. My head aches -horribly. I had an enormous office--sixty people; forty here--twenty -down-town--besides my calls. I’ve seen eighty sick people to-day. I was -a fool to agree to that noon office hour.--I’ve lost ten thousand -dollars in this panic. Brake telephoned me to get down to Stock Street -to save what I could. I couldn’t get off.... I lost a patient this -morning--that little girl at the Harrohart’s. She was a poor little -scrofulous thing, but they are terribly cut up about it.--I wish you’d -had a good, clear soup. I hate these opaque things. - -MRS. THORNE. But last time we had consommé, you said-- - -DR. THORNE. I said! I said! Who cares what he _says_? - -MRS. THORNE (_in a low voice_). That seems to be quite true. - -DR. THORNE. What did you say? Do speak louder. I hate to hear women -mumble their words.--I hope you have some roast beef; better than the -last. You mustn’t let Parsnip cheat you. Quail? There’s no nourishment -in quail for a man in my state-- (_Pushes away his plate crossly._) -Well, I suppose I’ve got to eat something. I was a fool not to dine at -the club.--The gas leaks. Can’t you have it attended to? Pudding? No. I -see enough of spoon food in sick rooms. I might have eaten a good, -hearty pie. - -MRS. THORNE. But the last pie we had, you said-- - -DR. THORNE (_again_). I said! I said! What does it signify what a man -_says_? How many times must I say that? Hurry up the coffee. I must -swallow it, and go. I’ve got more than ten men could do. - -MRS. THORNE (_gently, but with perceptible dignity_). It seems to be -more than one woman can do-- - -DR. THORNE. What’s that? Do speak so I can hear you.--If you’re going to -speak at all. - -MRS. THORNE. I said it seems to be more than one woman can do to rest -you. - -DR. THORNE (_carelessly_). Do ring for a decent cup of coffee. I can’t -drink this. - -MRS. THORNE. Esmerald-- - -DR. THORNE (_crossly_). Oh, what? I can’t stop to talk. There! I’ve -burned my tongue now. If there’s anything I can’t stand, it’s going to a -consultation with a burned tongue. - -MRS. THORNE (_tenderly_). How tired you are, Esmerald! It even gets into -your poor foot.--You limp more to-night. I was only going to say that I -am sorry. I can’t _let_ you go without saying that. - -DR. THORNE (_rising, and walking irritably through the rooms_). I can’t -see that that helps it any. I am so tired I don’t want to be touched. -(_Mrs. Thorne brings his overcoat. He repulses her._) Never mind my -coat. I’ll put it on myself. Tell Joe--No. I left the horse standing; I -don’t want Joe. I suppose Donna is uneasy by this time. She won’t stand -at night--_She’s got to._ I’ll get that whim out of her.--Now don’t look -that way! The horse is safe enough. - -MRS. THORNE. I haven’t bothered you about the horse, have I? But I don’t -feel--quite--easy. She is such a nervous creature, and so-- - -DR. THORNE (_imperiously_). Don’t you suppose I know how to drive? -You’re always having opinions of your own against mine. There! I must be -off.--Where’s the boy, Helen? Where’s Laddie? - -MRS. THORNE (_gently_). Laddie isn’t just right, somehow, Esmerald. I -hated to bother you, for you never think it’s anything. Molly is with -him. I’ve been a little troubled about him. He has cried all the -afternoon. - -DR. THORNE. He cries because you coddle him! It is all nonsense, Helen. -Nothing ails the child. I won’t encourage this sort of thing. I’ll see -him when I come home. I can’t possibly wait--I am driven to death--for -every little whim. (_Rushes towards the door, but pauses, irresolute._) -I suppose I shall have to go up--if you’ve got this fixed idea in your -head. I’ll take a look at him on the way out. - -MRS. THORNE (_more gently; without reproach, but regarding him -steadily_). Good-by, Esmerald. - -DR. THORNE. Oh, bother!--I can’t stop for fooling, now. - -MRS. THORNE (_with sudden change of manner, breaks down, and hides her -face in her arms. She weeps quietly_). He has always kissed me -good-by--before--ever since we have been married. He never, never missed -before! - -_Re-enter_ DR. THORNE. (_He holds the -child in his arms, and strides in impetuously, -still limping; lays_ LADDIE, -_wrapped in a silk robe, upon the sofa. -Tries to make the child sit up; but -the little fellow languidly falls back -upon the pillows._) - -(MRS. THORNE _moves quickly over, and supports the child_.) - -DR. THORNE. Helen, I must have an end to this nonsense! Nothing ails -Laddie. He is only a trifle feverish, with a little toothache--possibly -there’s a slight cold. The child should be out of the nursery. He will -sleep better for the change. Let him stay awhile--and don’t make a fool -of yourself over him. It really is very unpleasant to me that you make -such a fuss every time he is ailing. If you had married a green grocer, -it might have been pardonable. Pray remember that you have married a -physician who understands his business, and do leave me to manage it.... -There! (_Consults his watch._) I’m eight minutes behindhand already, all -for this senseless anxiety of yours. It’s a pity you can’t trust me, -like other men’s wives. I wish I had married a woman with a little -wifely spirit ... or else not married at all. - -[_Exit_ DR. THORNE. (_He does not bid -his wife good-by. At the threshold of -the door he seems to hesitate, makes -as if he would turn back, but goes out._) - -MRS. THORNE. Oh-h-h me! (_Utters one long, low cry; she does not speak -any words. She releases her hold of_ LADDIE, _who drops back sleepily -upon the sofa pillow. She seems to forget the child. She stands still, -in the middle of the library, with her face towards the window; her -hands are crossed before her, and clenched tightly together. A solemn -expression grows upon her face. Her tears dry upon her cheeks. Her eyes -widen and darken. Her mouth quivers pitifully. Still she does not speak. -She moves slowly to the window, and draws the curtains back. She stands -there looking out; she shades her eyes with her hand. The hand -trembles._) - -THE CHILD (_cries_). Mamma! Mamma! - -MRS. THORNE (_does not respond to the child. She moans_). -Esmerald!--Es--mer--ald! - - - -END OF SCENE I. - - -SCENE II. - -A dwelling street in the city, seen in an almost deserted -condition. The time is early evening. The wreck -of a buggy lies crushed against a curbstone; the traces -are broken, the horse having released herself and disappeared. -The wreck lies in shadow, and the prostrate -form of a man is but dimly discerned. After a -few moments of suspense and silence, slowly crawling -to his feet, - -_Arises_ DR. THORNE. (_He is dressed -for driving, as when he left home; his overcoat -disarranged, muddy, and torn; his hat -gone; his face has a singular pallor, and -his whole appearance is agitated. As he -rises, he throws a carriage robe back over -the spot where he had been lying. He -speaks._) - -DR. THORNE. That dastardly brute has -done it, now! I’ll sell Donna for this.--It -will play the mischief with that old -injury. I shall exchange an interesting -limp for crutches, now.--Hil-loa! (_Walks -to and fro with perfect ease._) The shock -has acted like a battery on the nerve centres. -Instead of a broken neck I have a cured leg. -I’m a lucky fellow--as usual. (_Laughs -lightly; turns to examine the condition of -the ruined buggy; suddenly looks confused, -and puts his hand to his head._) Curious -cerebral symptoms I have! Queer, there isn’t -a crowd round. They must have missed the -trail when Donna bolted. She’ll be at the -stable by this time.--She won’t go home. -Helen won’t know.... I shouldn’t like to -be the man that had to tell Helen!... I -must get to her--I must get home as soon -as I’ve been to the Hospital. I’m afraid I -was a little short with Helen. I wish-- (_Presses -both hands to his temples as if to -command himself; looks more and more -bewildered._) I must have been pretty well -stunned--seems to me there was a collision. -I ran down somebody. It was a landau--we -crashed--I saw it overturn--there -were people in it I knew--patients.... -Who?... _Who?_ (_Stamps the pavement -peremptorily, and impatiently strikes his -own head._) Who was it?--Horrible! The -brain cells do not obey me--_me!_ (_Walks -about frenziedly._) ... Ach--ch! It is -worse to remember than to forget. I have -it now--the sweetest woman of them all--Helen’s -friend--the gentlest, the most obedient, -most trustful, the bravest patient I ever -had--Mrs. Fayth. I saw her face as the carriage -went over.... She stretched out her -hands, and said: “Doctor!” It was Mary -Fayth. (_His face falls into his hands. -For a moment he sinks down on the wreck of -the buggy; but springs up._) Now that accounts -for it.--The crowd are all there. The -accident was so bad nobody has thought of -me. _She_ is the victim. _I_ have escaped. -Dead or alive, she is done for. She never -could recover from a shock like that. I -must go and find her. I must find Mrs. -Fayth. (_Starts and hurriedly walks down -the street, peering everywhere._) - - [_Exit_ DR. THORNE. - -(_In his absence no person passes the street._) - - _Re-enter_ DR. THORNE. - -Strange! How strange! I cannot find her. I cannot find anything--nor -anybody that a man would naturally meet under such circumstances. Not a -trace of the accident--yet I’m _as sure of it as I am that I’m alive_. -(_Pronounces these words slowly, and paces the sidewalk, irresolute._) -It all came from my being overdue at the Hospital. I suppose I did drive -Donna pretty fast. I wonder if I struck her? I am always in such an -infernal hurry--I never have had time to live. _I am driven to death._ -(_He says the last five words, not impatiently, but with a certain -solemn deliberation._) I must go at once to Mrs. Fayth’s house. They -must have carried Mary there--I wish I could spare time to see -Helen!--I’ll go right home as soon as I’ve been to Fayth’s. Odd! How -these brain symptoms last. I must have had quite a blow. I don’t--I -can’t--it is mortifying to feel so confused. - - [_Exit_ DR. THORNE. - -(_In his absence the street remains deserted._) - -_Re-enter_ DR. THORNE. - -_Enter behind him a tall_ Woman. (_She is -wrapped in a long ash-colored veil, or -mantle, beneath which shows a gleaming -gown of flame-color. She follows_ -DR. THORNE _silently. She keeps at a -distance from him. Her step is a gliding, -stealthy one. The_ Woman _does -not speak_.) - -DR. THORNE. There must be serious cerebral congestion. I cannot find the -street. I cannot find Fayth’s house. What part of this bewitched town am -I in? I have lost my way--I, Esmerald Thorne, with a clientele of twenty -years from end to end of the city--I cannot find my way. - -_Enter a_ Suburban, _a_ Loafer, _and a_ -Priest. (_The_ Woman _draws her veil, -and looks solemnly at_ DR. THORNE -_as she passes. Her face is pale and -wretched, but possesses singular -beauty._) - - [_Exit the_ Woman. - -(DR. THORNE _does not notice the_ Woman.) - -(_The_ Loafer _leans against a post. He stares stupidly at the wreck._) - -(_The_ Priest _walks slowly, reciting an Ave_.) - -(_The_ Suburban _hurries on, making a wide circle to avoid the ruins of -the carriage_.) - -DR. THORNE (_addressing the_ Suburban). Can you tell me?--Here! Hold on -a minute! Man, can’t you answer a civil question? Will you tell me-- - -THE SUBURBAN (_pays no attention to_ DR. THORNE, _but hurries on. -Consults his watch; speaks._) I shall lose my train! - - [_Exit_ Suburban, _running_. - -DR. THORNE (_with puzzled impatience, addressing the_ Loafer). -Here!--You! Why, it’s Jerry! Just tell me, will you, Jerry, where the -accident was, and how much was the lady hurt? - -(_The_ Loafer _stares stupidly at_ DR. THORNE, _but makes no answer_.) - - [_Exit_ Loafer. - -DR. THORNE (_with trouble on his face, more gently addresses the_ -Priest, _whom he slightly touches on the arm_). Sir!--Oh, Father -Sullivan! Look here, Father! I’m ashamed to confess, I have lost my way. -Would you direct me to the house of the well-known merchant, Frederick -Fayth? I am due there on an urgent professional errand, and--I cannot -explain the phenomenon--but I have lost my way! - -(_The_ Priest _repeats an Ave under his breath. He looks_ DR. THORNE -_full in the face, but does not reply_.) - -DR. THORNE. And will you be so kind as to tell me whether you have heard -of a carriage accident down-town--and how much was the lady hurt? Did -you-- - -PRIEST(_looks blindly over_ DR. THORNE’S _head; mutters_). Nay--Nay. I -see nothing. (_He crosses himself_). Ave Sanctissima! Ora pro nobis! -(_He lifts his arms and, with a troubled and confused expression, makes -the sign of the cross in the air over_ DR. THORNE. _Priest passes on._) - -DR. THORNE (_gently_). Thank you, Father. - - [_Exit_ Priest. - -DR. THORNE (_stands sunken in thought for a few moments; suddenly starts -and knots his hands together, then separates them with the motion of one -blind or of one feeling his way in the dark_). I must see Helen! I must -go to Helen!--Helen! _Helen!_ - -(_Sudden darkness settles. When it passes, the wreck of the buggy is -removed._) - -_Enter_ DR. THORNE. (_Walks rapidly and -perplexedly, still with the manner of a -man who has lost his way._) - - [_Exit._ - - -_Re-enter._ - - [_Exit._ - -_Re-enter_ (_speaks_). - -I must get home. I _will_ get home. I _will see_ Helen! (_Stops -sharply, as if smitten by an unseen force; cannot take another step; -contends, as if with an invisible power; droops, as if vanquished; -turns, and retraces his way; his head hangs to his breast. He speaks._) -_What_ thwarts me from my home? _Who_ constrains me from my wife? -(_Lifts his face angrily to the sky._) Is this hypnotism? (_Laughs -sarcastically._) Am I an infant--or a maniac? It must be anæsthesia -passing off. Perhaps I was etherized by some blank fool after that -shock.--The accident! That is it, of course, of course! It is the -cerebral concussion--a simple case.... I shouldn’t like this to get out. -I believe I’ll go into my office--if I can find my office--and wait till -this passes off. It is a perfectly simple case. (_Walks feverishly up -and down the street, searching for his own office; mutters._) Ever since -I yielded to that demand for a noon office hour downtown for business -men--it has crowded me without mercy. If they hadn’t been my old -patients, I wouldn’t have succumbed to it. It’s just another strand in -the whiplash that has driven me to death. Well (_draws a long -breath_)--I seem to be out of sorts to-night. I shall get over all this -nonsense when I see Helen. Helen will set me right. _Helen will make a -live man of me again._ - - -END OF SCENE II. - - -SCENE III. - -The interior of a down-town office. DR. THORNE -is seen in the consulting room; the door is closed into -the reception room. One gas-jet burns over the desk; -patient’s chair and physician’s chair are seen in the -usual places; the desk is in order for the night; a -movable telephone, of the kind in use in offices, stands -upon the desk. - -DR. THORNE (_throws himself heavily -into his revolving chair_). What the devil -am I here for? (_Violently. The light -grows dim as he says this._) Why in--why -in the name of all the laws of Nature -cannot I get home? (_After a pause, brokenly._) -Well--well! It’s something to -be here; to get out of the street--in out -of the night--it’s a good deal. I’d begun -to understand how outcasts feel--felons, -apparitions, fugitives. In the name of the -laws of mystery, thank Heaven for so much! -(_The light brightens. It reveals his face, -which is haggard and pinched. He pushes -his case books about, aimlessly. Suddenly -his hand hits the receiver of the telephone. -He springs and cries out_:) The telephone! -The telephone! I must have gone stark -mad not to think of it.--See! I’m not a -drinking man, am I? (_Puts his hand to -his head._) No. I do not drink. Helen -would not like to have me.--No. And -I’ve been all these hours without telephoning -to Helen. She’ll think I did it on purpose--poor -Helen--because of the words -I said. _If a man could slay the words he -says...._ They harry me--like ghosts. -(_Rings the telephone violently._) Central? -48.4--48.4, I say. Why don’t you give -me 48.4? I tell you I’m in a hurry. 48.4! -And be quick with it! (_Rings again._) Why -in--why don’t you attend to your business -there? It is Dr. Thorne--Dr. Esmerald -Thorne. My errand is most urgent. Give -me my home, and make short work of it. -48.4! Do you hear? (_Rings again._) - -(A MAN’S VOICE FROM THE EXCHANGE -_comes faintly over the wire, reverberating -through the transmitter, so as to be audible -at a distance from the instrument_.) Why -don’t you speak? We cannot make out a -word you say. - -DR. THORNE (_rings again, wildly_). I -tell you I want my home--48.4! I must -speak to my wife. Give me 48.4--Helen? -Helen! - -VOICE FROM THE TELEPHONE. Stop -ringing your bell if you can’t use your -tongue. Put your mouth close to the transmitter. -Are you drunk? Or are you dead? - -DR. THORNE (_still ringing_). I will report -you for this. It shall cost you your -place. 48.4, I say. Give me my house. -I will not submit to this. Give me 48.4! - -(_The telephone ceases to reply._) - -DR. THORNE (_rises, hangs up the receiver, -and paces the office tempestuously; -speaks_). The very forces of Nature are in -league against me.... My own nervous -system--the night--the atmosphere--electricity--they -are all gone foes to me. -They are serried like an army between myself -and her. Helen will be--Helen will -suffer--oh, poor girl! - -(_The telephone call bell rings suddenly._) - -DR. THORNE (_leaping to the receiver_). -Who calls? I am here. Who wants Dr. -Thorne? (_He snatches the receiver greedily -to his ear; listens a moment; cries -wildly_:) Oh, Helen! Is that you, dear? -Speak louder, darling.... Yes, I’m -here--at my office down-town. I’ll be -home soon. Don’t be frightened--but I -met with a trifling accident. Helen? Helen! -What’s the trouble? Don’t you hear me, -Helen? - -WOMAN’S VOICE FROM THE TELEPHONE. -Is my husband there? Esmerald! Are -you there? - -DR. THORNE. Why, Helen! Don’t you -hear me? What does ail this cursed telephone? -Central! Give me a decent wire. -My wife can’t hear a word I say.... -Helen? I’m not at all hurt--only shaken -up a little. I’ll get back just as soon as--_Helen? -Helen!_ - -WOMAN’S VOICE FROM THE TRANSMITTER. -Central? I cannot find my husband at his -office. Please give me the Hospital.--I -must communicate with my husband. - -(VOICE FROM THE TRANSMITTER _dies -away_.) - -DR. THORNE (_rings madly_). Central, -you’ve cut me off! You’ve cut me off -from my home. Give me 48.4 again. -Helen?--Helen! Can’t you hear me? -Don’t you understand me, Helen? Oh, I -could hear you--your own dear voice, my -girl! I wanted to tell you--I can’t wait -till I see you to say--Helen? She does -not hear me.--Helen! - -(_The transmitter is silent._) - -(DR. THORNE _lays the receiver down. He -hides his face in his hands._) - - -END OF SCENE III. - - -SCENE IV. - -Morning in a business street down-town. Many -people are passing, among them the PRIEST, the SUBURBAN, -and the LOAFER. A crowd thickens before -the bulletin boards of “The Earth,” a prominent daily -newspaper. At the extreme left are the headquarters -of “The Universe,” a rival paper. Not far from -“The Earth” building can be seen the modest sign -of the eminent physician:-- - -+------------------------------------+ -| DR. ESMERALD THORNE. | -| OFFICE HOUR 12-1 O’CLOCK. | -+------------------------------------+ - -(_A door opens within._ DR. THORNE _appears in the entrance to the -corridor_.) - -_Enter_ DR. THORNE (_upon the sidewalk. -Standing irresolute, he seems to wince -from the daylight and the morning -air; he mutters_). - -Now it is light, I can find my way to Helen. (_Steps slowly along the -sidewalk; shades his eyes from the sun. He wears no hat, and his pallor -has increased. No person addresses him._) - -(_On the bulletin boards of_ “The Earth” _can be seen the following -announcement_: - - WAR WITH THE ISLAND OF BORNEO. - BORNEO LAYS DOWN HER ULTIMATUM. - THE PRESIDENT HAS CALLED FOR VOLUNTEERS. - PANIC IN STOCK STREET. - SANTA MA FALLEN 30 POINTS SINCE YESTERDAY. - DISSENSION AT THE CITY HOSPITAL. - RUMORS OF ACCIDENT AT THE WEST END.) - -_Enter_ DR. GAZELL (_a short, blond, thick-set, -suave man of middle age_) _and_ DR. -CARVER (_a very young man; the latter -reading a fresh copy of_ “The Universe”). - -DR. GAZELL (_with emotion_). Shocking! Shocking! I cannot express--I am -overcome! - -DR. CARVER (_without emotion_). Yes. It is very sad. You’ll be apt to -find these things in “The Universe” before “The Earth” gets them. I -wonder if he-- - -DR. GAZELL. No. Never. He was above reproach. A hard man to get along -with--willful, but above reproach. I am greatly shocked! - -DR. THORNE (_stepping out into the crowd_). Ah, Gazell! Good-morning. I -am--I am very glad to see you, Dr. Gazell (_pathetically_). - -(DR. GAZELL _continues reading his paper. He does not look up._) - -DR. THORNE (_with embarrassment_). Gazell! (_He moves directly in front -of the office of_ “The Earth.” _At that moment a new bulletin flashes in -large letters, over the heads of the crowd, these words_:-- - - RUMOR CONFIRMED. - SHOCKING ACCIDENT! - TERRIBLE TRAGEDY. - RUNAWAY AT THE WEST END. - MRS. FREDERICK FAYTH DANGEROUSLY HURT. - THE EMINENT AND POPULAR PHYSICIAN, - DR. ESMERALD THORNE, - KILLED INSTANTLY.) - -(DR. THORNE _reads, and reels; stares about him appealingly._) - -(_Murmurs are heard from the crowd._) - -_Enter two_ Office Girls. - -(FIRST OFFICE GIRL _starts, and points to the bulletin_.) - -SECOND OFFICE GIRL. Oh! Oh! (_She bursts into tears._) - -SUBURBAN. Too bad! He was a clever fellow. He saved my little boy’s life -last summer. - -LOAFER. He took a t’orn out av me eye onct and divil a cint did he -charrge for ’t. - -PRIEST. Pater Noster in Cœlo--gone without absolution, poor soul! An -attractive heretic--merciful to the poor of my parish. - -DR. GAZELL. He drove too fast a horse. And he drove the horse too fast. -I always told him so. But I am greatly agitated by this! - -DR. CARVER (_reading aloud_). Now “The Universe” had it already in type: -“Dr. Thorne was dragged for some distance before the horse broke free. -He was found near the buggy, which was a wreck. The robe was over him, -and his face was hidden. Life was extinct when he was discovered, which -was not for an unaccountably long time. His watch had stopped at five -minutes past seven o’clock. He was not immediately identified. By some -unpardonable blunder the body of the distinguished and favorite -physician was taken to the morgue.” - -DR. GAZELL. That accounts for it. - -DR. CARVER (_reads on_). “It was not until nearly midnight that the -mistake was discovered. A message was dispatched to the elegant -residence of the popular doctor. Mrs. Thorne is a young and beautiful -woman, on whom, with their only child, an infant son, this blow falls -with uncommon cruelty.” - -DR. THORNE (_utters a long, heartrending moan. But no person hears the -sound. He stretches out his hands. The crowd shrinks from but does not -see him. Staring at the bulletin, he stands apart. He raises his -clenched right hand in the air; speaks_). It is a dastardly lie! It is -one of those cursed canards manufactured to harass men--and--break the -hearts of women. God!--She has seen it by this time. Let me pass! Let me -go to her! You may kill _her_ with this, but you can’t kill me. -Gentlemen, make way for me! _I am Dr. Thorne!_ - -(_The crowd pays no attention to this outcry._) - -_Enter_ NEWSBOY (_shrilly piping_). - -NEWSBOY. “Earth!” “Universe!” Latest--8.30. All about the accident! Dr. -Thorne killed instantly--Mrs. Fayth still breathin’--“Earth,” sir? Two -cents, sir. - -(DR. THORNE _clutches the newsboy by the arm, and would tear the paper -from him_. DR. THORNE’S _fingers grope over it--touch it. He tries -several times to obtain it. The paper remains in the hands of the boy._) - -_Enter_ BRAKE, _the broker_. - -(DR. THORNE _staggers against_ BRAKE, _who is reading_ “The Universe.”) - -[_Exit the_ Suburban, _consulting his watch_. - -DR. THORNE (_more gently; addresses the loafer_). Jerry! Is that you, -Jerry! Tell these gentlemen, will you, that I am Dr. Thorne? I should -take it--kindly--of you, Jerry. - -LOAFER (_stares; mutters_). Divil a cint did he charrge me for ’t. - -DR. THORNE (_addresses the broker_). Oh, Brake! I am glad to see you! I -couldn’t get down to save my Santa Ma. But _that_ is of no -consequence.... I’ve been hurt--an accident--and I am confused. I am -suffering from hallucinations. They have got beyond my control. I -wonder if you wouldn’t call a cab for me? I thought Dr. Gazell would -take me home in his carriage,--but he didn’t seem to hear me when I -spoke to him. If you’ll call a cab, I’ll get home--to my wife. - -[_Exeunt_ DR. GAZELL, DR. CARVER, _and_ -BRAKE, _without replying_. - -(DR. THORNE _watches them with a piteous expression; stands back and -apart from the crowd_.) - - - -END OF ACT I. - - - - -ACT II. - - -SCENE I. - -A small ward--the women’s ward--in a hospital; -several cots with patients in them are visible. One -patient is in a wheeled chair. Screens stand by the -cots. There are plants, pictures, the cheerful features -of the modern hospital. Two nurses are seen busy -with patients. - -_Enter_ DR. GAZELL _and_ DR. CARVER. - -DR. GAZELL (_seats himself by one of the patients; speaks blandly_). And -how do we find ourselves to-day? - -PATIENT (_turning her face, on which can be seen traces of tears_). Bad -enough--worse. I’ve been so upset by-- - -DR. GAZELL. Yes, yes. I know. It is truly shocking! - -DR. CARVER (_addressing one of the nurses_). You become your cap to-day. -You have an uncommonly good color--I mean to operate on No. 21. - -NURSE. Do you really? We thought her improving. She’s nervous to-day--on -account of Dr. Thorne. - -DR. CARVER. Yes. Thorne had things all his own way here, as usual. I -mean to operate,--if Dr. Gazell can manage her. - -NURSE (_coquettishly_). You are so expert,--such an easy surgeon. You -don’t mind it more than a layman would carving a Christmas _goo_--oose. -And what would you operate for--on No. 21? - -DR. CARVER. Appendicitis, of course. - -NURSE. Really? You are so clever on diagnosis. Now, I hadn’t thought of -appendicitis--in her case. Do you know--I thought it more like pleurisy? - -DR. CARVER (_looks keenly at the nurse to discover if she is making game -of him; speaks pompously_). The nurse, as you have been taught in your -training-school, can have no opinions. Now, the physician-- - -NURSE (_demurely_). Oh, of course. I wouldn’t have you think I’m -presuming to set up mine. She might have measles, or the grippe, for -anything _I_ should know. - -DR. CARVER. Now you speak very properly indeed. - -DR. GAZELL (_at bedside of No. 21_). Is the pain more severe on the -right? - -PATIENT. I didn’t say I had any pain--now. - -DR. GAZELL (_soothingly_). Increasing toward night? Paroxysms? Or is it -steady? - -PATIENT. I said I’d got over the pain. That has all gone. It is the -weakness--the deadly weakness. - -DR. GAZELL. Just so. That weakness is a most significant symptom--I -think you said it was accompanied by nausea? - -PATIENT. No, I didn’t. Not a bit. - -DR. GAZELL. Just so. Dr. Carver? Here a moment? (_To the patient._) I’m -sure we can relieve all that. Just a little operation--a very pretty -little operation--would set you right again in a week or two. - -DR. CARVER (_coming to the cotside of No. 21; speaks eagerly_). It is -such a beautiful operation! Why, I’ve known patients _beg_ for it,--it -is so beautiful. - -PATIENT (_beginning to cry_). Dr. Thorne said there was no need of -anything of the kind. - -DR. GAZELL (_stiffening_). Dr. Thorne was an able man--but eccentric. -His professional colleagues did not always agree with him. - -_Enter_ DR. THORNE. (_He has wasted since -his last appearance; looks outcast, -wan, and wretched; is splashed with -mud; still hatless; stands at the -lower end of the ward, gazing blindly -about._) - -PATIENT NO. 21. Dr. Thorne used to say that if we had better doctors, we -shouldn’t need so many surgeons. He said the true treatment would -prevent half the surgery in the city. - -(DR. THORNE _starts, and moves towards the patient_.) - -DR. GAZELL (_soothingly_). Yes. Just so. Dr. Thorne had great confidence -in himself. - -PATIENT (_rousing_). No more than his patients had in him. - -DR. CARVER. Irritable! Very irritable! A significant symptom, Dr. -Gazell. In my opinion, this extreme irritability _demands_ an operation -for appendicitis. - -FIRST NURSE (_listening, laughs; addresses_ SECOND NURSE). Now, if one -could only apply that! Take a cross man,--any cross man,--say a brother, -or a husband, or even a doctor, and if he carried it too far, just call -on Dr. Carver. Why, it would revolutionize society. And he is so expert! -He doesn’t mind it any more than carving a _goo_--oose. Yes, sir! I’m -coming. (_Demurely obedient; hurries to_ DR. GAZELL.) - -(SECOND NURSE _moves to the rear of the ward to a patient behind a -screen_.) - -(DR. THORNE _advances slowly; stands in the middle of the ward, -unnoticed_.) - -PATIENT NO. 21 (_louder_). I say, when a man’s dead is the time to speak -for him. And I’ll stand up for my dear dead doctor as long as I live. - -VOICE FROM ANOTHER COT. And so would I,--and longer, if I got the -chance. - -ANOTHER VOICE. He doesn’t need anybody to stand up for him. His deeds do -follow him. And he rests from his labors. - -(DR. THORNE _smiles bitterly; stands with his face towards the speaker. -He knots his hands in front of him, and thus advances with a motion so -slow as to be almost stealthy._) - -VOICE FROM ANOTHER COT. He wouldn’t care so much for that. It’s Bible. -He was not a religious man. But he was as _kind to me_! (_Weeps._) - -OTHER VOICES. And to me! Oh, yes, and to me,--as _kind_! - -PATIENT IN THE WHEELED CHAIR. I couldn’t move in my bed when I came -here. I’d been so three years. Look what he’s done for _me_. (_Sobs._) - -DR. THORNE (_in a low tone_). Miss Jessie? Don’t cry so. You’ll make -yourself worse. Go back to bed, Jessie, and--see. I’ll tell you a -secret. Don’t tell the others just yet. I wasn’t killed, Jessie. That -was a newspaper canard. _I’m a live man yet._ See! Look up, Jessie. Look -at me,--can’t you? (_Pleads._) Won’t you, Jessie? - -PATIENT IN THE WHEELED CHAIR (_stares past him at_ DR. GAZELL _and_ DR. -CARVER). And to think of the likes of them,--in his place! What ever’ll -become of this hospital without _him_? - -DR. THORNE (_with trembling lip_). You don’t hear me, do you, Jessie? -Well--well. I must have met with some cerebral shock affecting the -organs of speech. It is a clear case of aphasia. I can’t make myself -understood. It--it’s hard. Jessie? (_Louder._) I can’t see things go -wrong with _you_,--no matter how it is with me. You’ve been in that -chair long enough for to-day. (_Imperiously._) Jessie, go back to bed! -Stop crying about me, and go back to your bed. - -(JESSIE _wavers; shades her eyes with her hands; stares about her; -slowly turns her wheeled chair and moves away_.) - - [_Exit_ JESSIE. - -DR. THORNE (_moves more naturally and rapidly; stands by the cot of No. -21; speaks_). Good-morning, Mrs. True. I meant to have seen you last -night. I was--unavoidably detained. I hope you’re not worse this -morning? - -PATIENT (_with tears_). I’ve cried half the night. - -DR. THORNE. That’s a pity. But you won’t cry any more. I’ll take care of -you now. - -PATIENT (_looks up wearily; turns her face on her pillow and sobs_). - -DR. THORNE. Clearly aphasia. She does not understand a word I say. Dr. -Gazell! Gazell! Dr. Carver? - -(_The two physicians murmur together._) - -DR. THORNE. Gazell? What’s that? The knife? For Mrs. True? Excuse me, -but I cannot permit it. - -DR. CARVER. It would be such a pretty little operation. The students are -getting restless for something. I told them-- - -DR. GAZELL. It is well-defined appendicitis. - -DR. THORNE. Well-defined appendi--fiddlesticks! It is nothing but -pleurisy. I tell you, Gazell, I will not have it! - -DR. GAZELL (_looks around uncomfortably; speaks with hesitation_). Of -course, Thorne would not have agreed with us. - -DR. THORNE (_grips_ DR. GAZELL _by the arm_). I tell you it would be -butchery, Gazell! What are you thinking of? _Gazell!_ - -DR. GAZELL. But he was a very opinionated man,--everybody knew that. - -(DR. THORNE _drops_ DR. GAZELL’S _arm and walks away with a gesture of -distress_.) - -SECOND NURSE (_to_ FIRST NURSE; _moves out from behind the screen_). -Very invigorating day! - -FIRST NURSE (_to_ SECOND NURSE). Father Sullivan’s late with the -Sacrament. I hope Norah, yonder, won’t get ahead of him. She’s ’most -gone. (_Approaching the cot of the patient behind the screen._) - -SECOND NURSE (_moves away_). Yes. She’s been unconscious half an hour. - -_Enter_ PRIEST. (_He advances to offer Extreme Unction to the dying -patient._) - -FIRST NURSE. Lovely morning, Father. - -DR. THORNE (_standing in the middle of the ward_). They used to call my -name when I came in. “Oh, there’s the doctor!” “The doctor’s come!” It -ran from cot to cot--like light. And everybody used to smile. Seems to -me some of them blessed me. Now-- - -(_Sobs from the ward._) - -DR. THORNE (_tremulously_). My patients! Isn’t there _one_ of you who -knows me? Doesn’t _any_body hear me? Don’t cry so! All the symptoms -will be worse for it. - -THE DYING PATIENT. Doctor? Doctor? - -DR. THORNE. That sounds like Norah. - -PRIEST (_recites behind the screen at_ NORAH’S _bedside the prayer for -the passing soul_). “Proficiscere, anima Christiana, de hoc mundo, in -nomine Dei Patris omnipotentis, qui te creavit; in nomine Jesu Christi -Filii Dei vivi, qui pro te passus est; in nomine Spiritus Sancti”-- - -DR. THORNE (_softly_). Thank you, Father. (_Stands silently with bowed -head._) - -_Reënter the patient in the wheeled chair._ - -JESSIE (_happily_). I’ve had such a lovely dream! I thought Dr. Thorne -was here--in this ward. Oh! (_With disappointment._) - -DR. THORNE. Jessie! - -JESSIE (_sadly_). It was such a lovely dream! (_Droops and turns away._) - -(DR. THORNE _walks apart; stands drearily, with downcast eyes_.) - -_Enter_ MRS. FAYTH. (_She looks pale and -agitated, but quite happy. She is -dressed as before, for the street, but -her head is bare; is wrapped from -head to foot in her long, pale, dove-colored -opera cape. She goes straight -to_ DR. THORNE, _and touches him upon -the arm; speaks softly_.) - -MRS. FAYTH. Doctor? - -DR. THORNE (_starts_). Oh! Mary Fayth! You? (_He grasps her hand with -pathetic eagerness._) Oh, I never was so glad! You are the first -person--the only one--nobody else seemed to know me. I might have known -_you_ would. Where’s Helen? Isn’t she with you? And you weren’t hurt at -all, were you? I have been--anxious about you. Those cowardly papers -said--I tried to get right over and see you. And, after all, you’re not -hurt. I thank-- (_Looks around confusedly._) Ah, what shall I thank? - -PRIEST. Christum Dominum nostrum. Amen. - -(DR. THORNE _listens with troubled interest, like a child learning a -hard lesson_.) - -MRS. FAYTH (_smiling_). I can only stay a minute. I must get back to my -poor Fred. - -DR. THORNE. Don’t leave me. - -MRS. FAYTH. Oh, poor doctor! Don’t you _see_? The carriage overturned. I -was badly hurt. I only died an hour ago. - -DR. THORNE (_gasps, and stares at_ MRS. FAYTH. _He tries to speak, but -can only articulate_). You died an hour ago? And I? And _I_? - -MRS. FAYTH (_still smiling, with her sweet, mysterious smile_). Don’t -take it so hard, doctor. I came to ex-plain it to you. Why, it’s the -most beautiful thing in the world! (_Glides away slowly, but smiling to -the last._) - -DR. THORNE (_throws up his arms in anguish_). I am dead! My God! _I am a -dead man!_ - -(_His face falls into his hands, his whole body collapses slowly, he -drops._) - - -END OF SCENE I. - - -SCENE II. - -It is night on a street in the West End of the city. -At the right stands a church, dimly lighted for a choir -to practice. An anthem on the organ can be heard. -At the left appears Dr. Thorne’s house, viewed from -the outside. It has high stone steps, and lights are -in the window. One window on the ground floor has -the curtain raised. The interior of the library can be -seen through the window,--glimpses of the books, the -pictures, the table, the lamp with the white lace shade. -The room is empty. Into it-- - -_Enter_ MRS. THORNE. (_She is dressed in -deep black. Her face is drawn with -grief. Her hands are clasped in front -of her. She paces the room drearily. -She is alone. She seats herself by the -table; tries to read; lays the book -down, and rises; paces the room._) - - [_Exit_ MRS. THORNE. - -_Enter_ DR. THORNE _at the far end of the -street near the church. (He is dressed -as before. He is still pale. His manner -has increased in agitation, but a -new resolution gives more firmness to -his wasted countenance. He speaks, -meditatively._) - -DR. THORNE. After all, there _is_ another life. I really did not think -it. (_Stops and passes his hand over his eyes; muses._) God knows--if -there is a God--how it is with me. If I have never done anything, or -been anything, or felt anything that was fit to _last_, I have loved one -woman, and her only--and thought high thoughts for her, and felt great -emotions for her, and I could forget myself for her sake--and I would -have had joy to suffer for her, and I’ve been a better man for love of -her. And I have loved her,--oh, I have so loved her that ten thousand -deaths could not murder that living love! (_Falters._) And I spoke to -her--I said to her--like any low and brutal fellow, any common -wife-tormentor--I went from her dear presence to _this_. (_Brokenly._) -... And here there is neither speech nor language. Neither earth nor -heaven, nor my love ... nor my shame ... can give my famished eyes the -sight of her dear face,--nor my sealed lips the power to say, Forgive! - -(_The organ can be heard from the church._) - -DR. THORNE (_without noticing the anthem_). I will not bear it. No--no. -I _will_ not! I _will_ go to her! (_Starts to rush up the street, whose -familiar precincts he seems for the first time to recognize._) Why, -there is my own house! She can’t be two rods away. I wonder if a dead -man can get into his own home? _Helen?_ (_His feet lag heavily; he moves -like one who is wading in water. He makes the motions of one who -withstands a strong blast or an invisible force. He is beaten back. -Suddenly he raves._) You are playing with me! You torture a miserable -man. Who and what are you? Show me what I have to fight, and let me -wrestle for my liberty! Though I am a ghost, let me wrestle like a man! -Let me to my wife! Give way and let me seek her! (_Slowly recedes, as if -beaten back; bows his head. The man sobs._) - -CHOIR FROM THE CHURCH (_chant_). - - “God is a Spirit. - God is a Spirit. - And they that worship Him”-- - -(_Choir breaks off. The organ sounds on._) - -(DR. THORNE _seems to listen, but with a kind of anger. He slowly -recedes, as if pushed back._) - - [_Exit_ DR. THORNE. - -_Enter the_ Veiled Woman. (_She stands -mutely and wretchedly. Watches the -house. Wrings her hands, but makes -no sound._) - -_Enter_ MRS. THORNE. (_Within the house; -can be seen plainly from the street -through the window. She advances -and draws the shade still higher; -stands close to the window, pressing -her hands against the sides of her -eyes; looks out._) - -(_The_ Veiled Woman _shrinks at the sight of_ MRS. THORNE.) - - [_Exit the_ Woman. - -_Reënter_ DR. THORNE _at the other end of the street_. (_He speaks -shrewdly._) It is nearer at this end. And perhaps, if I didn’t have to -get by that church-- (_Hurries up opposite the house. Suddenly he sees -her._) Oh, there’s Helen! God! It is my wife. I--see--my--wife. -(_Brokenly._) Dear Helen! (_Pushes toward the house. At the foot of his -own steps he falters and falls, still as if beaten back. He struggles as -a man would struggle for his life. The veins stand out on his face and -on his clinched hands. He cries out._) I’m coming, Helen! It is only I, -my girl. Don’t be frightened, dear! I wonder would she be afraid of me? -Perhaps it would shock her. Live people and dead people don’t seem to -understand each other. But I’ll risk it. Helen would go alone and lie -down alive in a grave at midnight, and never look over her shoulder--if -she thought she could see _me_. I know Helen. I’ll try again. (_He -pushes and urges his way onward. But the invisible Power restrains him, -as before. He stretches his arms towards the lighted window._) Here I -am, Helen! I can’t get any farther, somehow.... Come and open the door -for me, my girl,--the way you used to do. Won’t you, Helen? With the boy -in your arms? Perhaps if _you_ opened the door,--I could get in. I ... -(_After a silence._) I won’t stay very long. I won’t trouble you any, -Helen. I know I don’t belong there any more. I won’t intrude. -(_Wistfully._) Helen! I was cruel to you. I have been ashamed of myself. -I thought if I could get in long enough to say-- (_Reflects._) Mary -Fayth went back to see _Fred_. Nothing prevented her-- - -(MRS. THORNE _throws open the window. Leans out and looks about._) - -(MAGGIE _is seen moving about the lighted room_.) - -(_People in the street pass._) - -(MRS. THORNE _hastily shuts the window_.) - -DR. THORNE (_piteously_). Helen! - -(_The organ sounds from the church._) - -DR. THORNE (_turns suddenly, as if turning on an antagonist_). What art -Thou that dost withstand me? I am a dead and helpless man. _What_ -wouldst Thou with me? _Where_ gainest Thou thy force upon me? Art Thou -verily that ancient Myth that men were wont to call Almighty God? (_He -lifts his face to the sky; holds up his hands as if he held up a -question or an argument._) - -CHOIR FROM THE CHURCH:-- - - “God is a Spirit. - God is a Spirit. - They that worship Him - Must worship Him in Spirit”-- - -MAGGIE (_opens the door. The lighted hall is seen behind_). There’s -nobody here, Mrs. Thorne. - -(MRS. THORNE, _wearing a slight, white shawl which falls from her as she -moves, comes to the open door; motions_ MAGGIE _away_.) - - [_Exit_ MAGGIE. - -MRS. THORNE (_softly_). Esmerald? He might be out there in the dark. Who -knows what spirits do? Esmerald? Would God that I had died for you! Oh, -my dear! - -DR. THORNE. _Helen!_ - -MRS. THORNE. If he were there he would answer me if it cost him his -living soul. - -DR. THORNE. Helen, I answer you, for I _am_ a living soul. _Helen!_ (_He -struggles mightily; crawls up the steps, reaches with the tips of his -fingers the fringe of her white shawl, which has fallen down the steps, -and lies there unnoticed._) Helen, look down! _Down._ (_He clutches the -white fringe to his lips. He kisses it wildly._) - -(MRS. THORNE _lifts her face to the sky_.) - -DR. THORNE. I can’t get any higher,--not any nearer, dear. - -MRS. THORNE. There is no one here. (_Weeping._) There is nothing here. -(_She shuts the door slowly and reluctantly; remembers the shawl, which -she draws in with her._) - -(DR. THORNE _clings to the shawl in vain. Moaning, he kisses the -doorsteps of his own home where the garment had touched them._) - - -END OF SCENE II. - - -SCENE III. - -A narrow defile or pass between high mountains. -The light is dim. The pass winds irregularly, and is -often rough, but is always upwards. The scenery is -unearthly. No sign of life is to be seen. A distant -storm can be heard. - -_Enter_ DR. THORNE (_slowly, holding a -staff; he is robed in purple, a flowing -garment, not unlike a talith or a toga. -His face, still pale, is heavily lined; -but more with anxiety than with resentment; -its expression is somewhat -softer. He speaks_). - -DR. THORNE. I wonder what is to be done with me next? I see no -particular reason for climbing these mountains. There seems to be -nothing for a dead man to do but to obey orders. Well (_candidly_), I’ve -given my share of them in my time. I suppose it’s fair enough to turn -about and take a few--now. (_He smiles. After a pause, climbing -slowly._) I must say I can’t call this an attractive country--so far. -Its main features are not genial. - -(_The storm increases; there is thunder and cloud._) - -DR. THORNE (_looking about_). It seems to be in the cyclonic belt. -There’s a storm of some sort,--I should say two of them fighting up in -these hills. Hear them close and clinch! Like a man’s two natures; -civil war all the time. And no truce! (_Muses._) It’s not a social -region, certainly. I don’t know that I recall, really, ever being in a -place that was so desolate. There isn’t so much as a wild animal, nor a -bird flying over. It reminds me of--what was it? I can’t recall the -words. It seems to me my mother taught them to me when I was a little -lad. But they have quite gone. Beautiful literature in that old Book! -It’s a good while since I’ve dipped into it. I’ve had too much to do. -What was it? - - “Though I walk--When I walk”-- - -(_He breaks off; climbs stoutly. The storm darkens down. For the first -time_ DR. THORNE’S _face expresses something like alarm. He looks about -like a man who would call for help, but is too proud to do so. He -speaks._) - -This is really growing serious. I wish I could remember those words. Now -I think of it, we were on our knees. A most unnatural posture! My -mother was a sweet saint,--rest her pure spirit! (_It lightens as he -says this._) - -VOICES FROM BEYOND (_softly chanting_). - - “And when I’m lost in deep despair - Be thou with me.... - Until life’s daylight ended be, - Be thou with me, with me.” - -DR. THORNE (_lifts his head to listen_). There’s a good musical taste in -this country, at all events. That’s something. What were those words? -Ah, I have it. - - “Though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow - Thou shalt be with me.” - -It went in some such way. (_Repeats perplexedly._) - - “_Thou_ shalt be with me?” - -(_Sadly._) A beautiful superstition. - -(_The storm comes on heavily, with darkness and lightning. Through the -gloom his solitary form can be seen manfully climbing. He exhibits no -panic, but his evident bewilderment grows upon him. He mutters._) - -The desolation of desolations! I shall be glad when I get out of it. -What solitude! Of all the people I have known--dead or living--there is -not one to stay by me. - -VOICES FROM BEYOND. - - “Be Thou near him!” - -_Enter, on the pass above him, a young -girl repeating prayers on a rosary. -She is a plain, unattractive girl, folded -in a dull gray gown that wraps her -loosely. Her face is earnest and devout._ - -DR. THORNE. Why, Norah! - -NORAH (_looking back_). Oh, it is the Doctor. - -DR. THORNE. I can’t overtake you, Norah. - -NORAH. And I’ve only died the day. - -DR. THORNE. But you’ve got the start of me, Norah. You are higher up. I -am glad to see you, Norah (_eagerly_). But I can’t reach you. - -NORAH (_holds down her hand_). Come up, Doctor! Come up! I’ll help you, -Doctor. - -DR. THORNE (_gratefully_). Thank you, Norah. - -NORAH. It’s to Purrgatory I’d be goin’. But you’re the herretic, Doctor. -Which way do you be goin’? - -DR. THORNE (_shakes his head_). I don’t know, Norah. You are wiser than -I am--in this foreign place. - -NORAH (_holds down her hand_). The dear Doctor! Ye were that kind to me, -Doctor,--at the hospital, and forninst the house where I was worrkin’. -It’s niver a cint I had to pay yez for yer thruble. If I’d been a pretty -lady with a purrse of gold, ye never could have put yerself about more -than ye did for the likes of me. It’s not meself that would have died -the day if _you’d_ been there. Doctor? Would yez mind, if I -should--bless you, Doctor? There’s kindness onto kindness, and mercy -goin’ after mercy that ye did me, all hidin’ in a poor girrl’s heart to -rise and meet you here. I was sick an’ ye did visit me. - -DR. THORNE (_melting_). When did I ever show you all that kindness, -Norah? I don’t remember-- - -NORAH. And I don’t forget. Take my hand, now, Doctor, do. It must be -lonesome down below there by yersel’. (_Touches her rosary. Her lips -move in prayer._) - -DR. THORNE (_climbing on, grasps_ NORAH’S _hand_). Thank you, Norah -(_gently_). - -(_There is a lull in the storm. It grows lighter._) - -(DR. THORNE _and the Irish girl climb on together silently_.) - -(_It brightens at the brow of the mountain. Dim outlines of figures are -faintly seen at the summit. They waver, and melt away._) - -DR. THORNE (_gradually loosening his hold of_ NORAH’S _hand, speaks, but -not to_ NORAH, _bitterly_). Now stop a moment. Where will all this end? -Rebelling, I obey; and obeying, I rebel. I am become what we used to -call a spirit. And this is what it means! Better might one become a -molecule, for those at least express the Laws of the Universe, and do -not suffer. I don’t incline to go any higher. (_Drops back._) Every step -is taking me further away from my wife. - -NORAH (_anxiously_). Doctor? Doctor! (_She climbs on, but looks back, -beckoning._) - -DR. THORNE (_pays no attention to_ NORAH. _Retraces his steps down the -narrow path_). Come what may, I _will_ not go any further from Helen. -I’ll perish first, in this unearthly place. (_He continues to descend; -stands lost in thought. The storm darkens round him, but lightens beyond -him. At the summit dim outlines can be seen again. These brighten -faintly._) - -(NORAH _reaches her arms towards them; climbs on_.) - -DR. THORNE. It was something to be in the same world with Helen. -(_Muses._) Oh, hot in my anger I went from her. And cold, indeed, did I -return. (_Still descending._) I will go back. I will get as near the old -system of things as I can. I will not put another span of space between -myself and Helen. Poor, poor girl! - -(DR. THORNE, _doggedly descending, does not look up_.) - -(_White-robed forms at the summit brighten. Arms are stretched downwards -through a mist. Hands beckon. One of them reaches down and clasps_ -NORAH’S _hand; draws her up_.) - -NORAH (_looking back_). Doctor! - -(NORAH _vanishes_.) - -(_The pass grows dark. Figures at the summit dim._) - -(_Enter, from a darkness in the mountains, -the_ Woman _in flame-color. Her ashen -mantle is now thrown back, but still -clings to her. She stands mournfully -regarding_ DR. THORNE. _She does not -address him, but slowly extends her -arms._) - -(DR. THORNE _does not observe the_ Woman. _She does not obtrude herself -upon his attention._) - -[_Exit the_ Woman _into the darkness -whence she came_. - -DR. THORNE (_with frowning face descends; he murmurs_). And a few days -ago I was troubled because I had lost a few thousand _dollars_ in Santa -Ma.... I saved up _money_! (_Scornfully._) I would accumulate a -_fortune_. Oh, the whole of it, ten hundred thousand-fold the whole of -it, for one hour in a dead man’s desolated home! (_Pushes downwards, -suddenly and silently._) - -_Enter_ AZRAEL, ANGEL OF DEATH. (_The -pass blackens. The mountain summit -is wrapped in darkness._) - -(AZRAEL _stands tall and resplendent. He is a white-robed figure, winged -and powerful. The light falls only upon_ AZRAEL _and upon the man. It -can be seen that this gleam comes from a sword held in the hand of the -Angel. Without a word he lifts the flaming sword, and with it bars the -narrow pass from side to side._) - -DR. THORNE (_in a ringing voice_). Azrael! - -(AZRAEL _does not reply_.) - -DR. THORNE (_under his breath_). Azrael, Angel of Death! (_Falls back._) - -(_The two figures confront each other in silence._ DR. THORNE -_desperately flings himself towards the Angel. Without a touch he is -beaten back._ AZRAEL _stands immovable. His face grows solemn with -pity._ DR. THORNE _retreats; advances again; raises his staff, and -strikes it upon the Angel’s sword. The staff flames up, burns, and drops -to ashes on the ground._) - -(DR. THORNE _recedes a few steps; shades his eyes with his hands; -regards the Angel blindly; wavers, turns. Slowly, with bent figure, he -weakly reascends the mountain; stumbles and falls; regains his footing; -climbs on alone, and now without his staff; does not look back._) - -(AZRAEL _stands immovable, with drawn sword_.) - -VOICES FROM BEYOND (_sing so softly that they seem rather to be -breathing than singing_):-- - - “The night is dark, and I am far from home, - Lead Thou me on ... - O’er moor and fen, o’er crag and torrent, till - The night is gone, - And with the morn those angel faces smile, - Which I have loved long since, and lost a while.” - -(_As they sing the summit mellows slowly. No figures appear. At the brow -of the mountain a single gleam of light pierces the gloom. It brightens -rather than broadens. It has the color of dawn._) - -(AZRAEL _fades away, the sword vanishing last_.) - -(DR. THORNE _climbs up, with eyes lifted towards the light on the -summit, which strikes his face and figure_.) - -AS THE VOICES SING:-- - - “And with the morn those angel faces smile, - Which I have loved long since, and lost a while.” - - - -END OF ACT II. - - - - -ACT III. - - -SCENE I. - -_Paradise_: A beautiful country. Trees, flowers, -shrubs, vines of great luxuriance abound. Brilliant -birds of unfamiliar plumage can be heard singing in -the boughs. They dip, blazing, through the air. The -grass is bright, and like short fur in effect. The -sheen of water, like the surface of a lake or sea, glimmers -beyond. Sails of faint, fair tints, move and -melt upon the sea. At a distance, upon a hill, are -outlines of graceful architecture. A narrow brook -can be seen, with strange shells upon its little banks. -There are no highways visible. Foot-worn walks and -paths, trodden through the grass, intersperse the -landscape. The grass, however, springs afresh beneath -the foot, and is not crushed or sear. Annunciation -lilies and scarlet passion-flowers grow in the -foreground. Bluebells, in clusters, spring beyond. -Roses are many. Flowers unknown to the botanies -of earth are frequent; and among those to which we -are used, it will be noticed that the blossoms of the -tropics and of the North countries flourish side by -side. The whole impression is one of delight and -beauty. The sky has a misty softness, and the atmosphere -is capable of taking on (and takes on) sudden -and subtle changes of effect. It is now seen to be -early morning, and all the tints of the landscape are -tender and fresh. - -The scene is populous with _bright beings_. These -are seen to differ from the people of this planet chiefly -in their joyousness of manner, and in a certain high -expression, of which it might be said, in a word, that -the absence of low motive, and the presence of a sense -of ease and security, are the predominant features. -These beings wear flowing robes of various tints--dove, -rose, blue, corn, violet, silver, gold, and pearl. -Here and there one appears garbed in the color of the -pale leaf, and, in moving among the foliage, seems -to have sprung from it. Many spirits are clothed in -shining white. Happy conversation and gentle laughter -can be heard. - -_Enter_ Two Children. _These play in the -brook, and gather the shells. They are -robed in short, childish garments--a -little frock, a little dress, both white, -and each clasped by a small, golden -cross._ - -FIRST CHILD (_a boy, four or five years old_). I never saw such pretty -shells in that other place we lived. They took me to the seaside -summers, but there weren’t any there that began to be so pretty. - -SECOND CHILD (_a girl_). _I_ never played with _any_ shells before. We -lived in a street. It was dark and dirty. I never saw the sea till I -came here. - -FIRST CHILD. I never saw you in that other place, did I? - -SECOND CHILD. No. You wouldn’t have played with me there. - -FIRST CHILD. I like you here--don’t I? - -SECOND CHILD. And I like you. I like you best of anybody I’ve seen in -this pretty country. - -FIRST CHILD. Do you like roses? Or don’t you care for anything but -shells? - -SECOND CHILD (_adoringly_). I like roses, if you like roses. - -(_They leave the brook, and gather roses, pelting each other with them, -and laughing merrily._) - -(FIRST CHILD _tosses a rose over the brook_.) - -(SECOND CHILD _picks a bluebell, and puts it to her lips_.) - -FIRST CHILD. No. They’re not to eat. They’re to listen to. See! I’ll -ring mine. Hark! (_He rings the bluebell. It gives out a musical -tintinnabulation._) Now, you hark again. I never heard a bluebell ring -in that other place, did you? - -SECOND CHILD. I never saw one on our street.... Oh, _mine_ rings, -too!... Say! Are these angels? I never saw an angel either, in our -street. - -(The Children _wander away and mingle with the groups of spirits. They -ring the bluebells as they go. The tintinnabulation is drowned in -orchestral music, which can be heard from a distance. The theme is from -Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony. Certain of the spirits listen attentively, -and move towards the music. Certain others continue to talk happily, and -stir among the trees._) - -_Enter_ DR. THORNE. (_Walks slowly and -alone. He is robed still in purple, -with a tunic of white showing at the -throat. He looks pallid and harassed. -He stands for a time apart, -keenly observant of the scene and of -the people, then sinks in thought. He -speaks._) - -DR. THORNE. Children here, too? - -(_He looks wistfully at the two children, who are playing together at a -distance from him. He picks up the rose which the little boy had tossed -over the brook; puts it to his face; speaks._) - -DR. THORNE. What a perfume the flowers have in this country! This seems -to be a rose, yet it is not a rose. You might call it the soul of a -rose. Exquisite, whatever it is. Some one has dropped this one. There is -personality clinging to it. Curious! It is as though I clasped a little -hand when I touch it. - -(_He sighs; walks to and fro thoughtfully; does not throw away the rose, -but cherishes it. Groups of spirits pass and repass. Some of them smile -at him kindly, but he does not return the smile. No one addresses -him._) - -DR. THORNE. I have done my share of traveling in my day, but I must say -I never was in a land that seems to me so foreign as this. Nothing looks -natural. I seem to have no acquaintances. Apparently nobody knows me. I -have no introductions. I am afraid I have got here without letters of -credit. (_Breaks off._) That was a mistake. I never did such an ignorant -thing before. I must say it is an attractive country, too. Everything -shows a high degree of civilization, and the beauty of the place is -unsurpassed. But it does not appeal to me. (_He shakes his head._) ... I -am too homesick.... If Helen were here, I could enjoy it. - -(_He strolls about without aim or interest. Happy spirits pass and -repass._) - -_Enter a man-spirit of impressive and -commanding appearance. His costume -bears a certain vague resemblance -to the dress of a gentleman and scholar -of the Court of Charles I. of England. -A cloak of the tint of the dead -oak-leaf is clasped across his breast -by a golden cross. He regards_ DR. -THORNE _with a piercing but kindly -look. He speaks with a fine and -courtly manner, dating from a bygone -age._ - -THE MAN-SPIRIT. I read thee for a stranger here. - -DR. THORNE (_bitterly_). A stranger in a strange place am I, indeed. You -are the first inhabitant of this country who has troubled himself to -speak to me. Thank you for your politeness, sir. - -THE MAN-SPIRIT. I was commanded. These (_waving his hand toward the -groups of spirits_) were not. - -DR. THORNE. You look like a person more fitted to give commands than to -receive them. I fail to understand that word--_commanded_. I am--at -least, I was--a sovereign citizen of America. I was not born or trained -a subject. - -THE MAN-SPIRIT (_smiling_). And I was subject of an English -sovereign--in fact, an officer of the royal court. - -DR. THORNE (_without smiling_). And this nation? Is it an autocratic -monarchy you have here? What _is_ your political system? - -THE MAN-SPIRIT. It is a simple one--a pure theocracy. - -DR. THORNE (_indifferently_). Oh, theocracy? That is a system into which -I have never studied. I have been a busy man. I was a -physician-- (_Abruptly._) Would you favor me with your name? - -THE MAN-SPIRIT. I was a healer of the sick in my time. My name -was-- (_Whispers his name._) - -DR. THORNE (_starts with pleased surprise_). The great _Harvey_? And -_you_ discovered the circulation of the blood? How wonderful! Why, I -thought you had been mould and clover these two hundred and fifty -years! It never occurred to me that you were alive.... What an -extraordinary fact! - -HARVEY (_turns away wearily_). I did not think to find your education so -limited. I understood you to be a man of superior powers. - -DR. THORNE (_humbly_). Don’t leave me, Doctor Harvey! I am the most -unhappy man in this most happy country. - -HARVEY (_slowly_). Then you did not bring with you the materials of -happiness. What had you? What _were_ your possessions in the life -yonder? - -DR. THORNE (_solemnly, but still bitterly_). Love, happiness, home, -health, prosperity, fame, wealth, ambition. None of them did I bring -with me. I have lost them all upon the way. - -HARVEY. Was there by chance nothing else? - -DR. THORNE. Nothing more, unless you count a little incidental -usefulness. - -HARVEY. Plainly, you are not in a normal condition. - -DR. THORNE (_hastily_). I am perfectly well. - -HARVEY. You are sick of soul. You are not in health of spirit. You are -out of harmony with your atmosphere. Do you wish me to take the case? - -DR. THORNE. Take the case, Doctor Harvey. Cure me of my nostalgia. Show -me how to become a citizen of this foreign land. - -HARVEY. You know what it means to be a patient. - -DR. THORNE (_grimly_). I can think of no worse fate; but I’ll make the -best of it. - -HARVEY (_smiling kindly_). I will undertake the case. At evening inquire -your way to my dwelling. (_Moves away; returns; hesitates; lingers; -speaks impulsively._) Concerning the latest attainments in science on -the planet Earth--they have the keenest interest for me. You have so -many advantages--facilities that we never had. (_He sighs wistfully._) I -am told that your therapeutics are really wonderful. And the advances in -surgery? Did you find them as beautiful as they are said to be? - -_Enter a newly arrived woman-spirit. She -is still pale, but has a happy expression. -She recognizes_ DR. THORNE; -_cries eagerly_. - -WOMAN-SPIRIT. Doctor! Doctor Thorne! - -HARVEY. Here comes some of your incidental usefulness. That is a good -symptom. (_He moves away, still smiling._) - - [_Exit_ HARVEY. - -DR. THORNE. Why, Mrs. True! (_Grasps her hand joyfully._) You are the -first person I have seen--the first one I knew! But (_reflecting_) what -has happened to you? How did you get here? - -MRS. TRUE. I died yesterday.... I knew I should see you, Doctor. -(_Calmly._) I counted on that. - -DR. THORNE (_starting back_). Did they--you don’t mean to say they -really operated on you? You were convalescent! - -MRS. TRUE (_laughing outright_). Yes, in a week after you were killed. -Dr. Carver vivisected guinea-pigs all that week to keep in practice. I -died under the knife.... I wish you’d seen their faces! - -DR. THORNE (_eagerly_). What did they find--anything to justify the -butchery? - -MRS. TRUE. Of course not. Didn’t you say there wasn’t? - -DR. THORNE (_gratefully_). You always were a loyal patient--better than -I deserved. - -MRS. TRUE. You always were a kind doctor--better than I deserved. - -DR. THORNE. And they slaughtered you in my hospital! - -MRS. TRUE (_hurrying on_). Have you seen my husband? Do you know where -my mother is? I lost a baby twenty years ago. I want to see the little -thing. And oh? when can I see--? - -(_She breaks off, with a devout expression, and moves away; joins the -upper group of spirits. Two of these can be seen to meet and embrace -her, and lead her on._) - - [_Vanish_ MRS. TRUE. - -_Enter_ JERRY, _the loafer, hurriedly and -stumbling. His robe is of dull blue, -something in the fashion of a smock-frock, -or butcher’s blouse._ - -JERRY (_staring about him stupidly, and with a kind of social -embarrassment, as if he had been suddenly introduced into a -drawing-room_). Div-niver a cint in me pocket, and me hoofin’ it in this -quaer counthree. (_Scratches his head, and mutters unintelligibly._) ... -I wondher where the ... sinsible saints I’m at. - -DR. THORNE (_steps forward; speaks_). Why, Jerry! How are you, Jerry? -(_Holds out his hand heartily._) - -JERRY (_staring_). Sinsible saints, and silly sinners! Doctor Thorne?... -Why, I thought you was dead. Hilloa, Doctor! (_Grasps the doctor’s hand, -and shakes it violently. Then meditatively._) Ye took a t’orn out av me -eye onct, and div-niver a cint did ye charrge for ’t. - -DR. THORNE. What are you doing here, Jerry? How did you get here? - -JERRY. I was knocked down by a blame bicycle underneat’ a murdherin’ -trolley car. Nixt I know I don’t know nothin’, an’ now, behold me, I’m -let loose loafin’ in this quaer counthree. - -DR. THORNE. Not drunk, were you, Jerry? - -JERRY (_shaking his head gravely_). I shwore off, Doctor. I shwore off -t’ree years ago. Me little gurrl she give me no repose till I shwore -off.... She died jist av the hospittle, did me little gurrl.... Say, -Doctor, do ye know what’s the thramp laws in this counthree? - - _Enter_ NORAH _hastily_. - -NORAH. Doctor--Doctor Thorne? Have you seen--oh, there he is! There’s me -father! Why, Father, Father dear! (_Caresses_ JERRY _affectionately_.) - -JERRY. Och! wisha, wisha! Norah, me darlint! (_Returns her caresses -tenderly._) What luck for the likes of us arrivin’ emigrants thegither -in this agra-able counthree! - -NORAH (_puts her arm in his_). Come yonder wid me, Father. (_Draws him -away._) - -JERRY (_looks back over his shoulder at_ DR. THORNE). Is it to -confession we do be goin’, Norah?--the wan av us arrivin’ be way of a -murdherin’ doctor, and the wan be way av a murdherin’ trolley! I’m -thinkin’, sir, it’s niver a cint to choose bechune. - - [_Exeunt_ JERRY _and_ NORAH. - -DR. THORNE (_watches their departure drearily; turns, and walks feebly -towards the brook; speaks_). Now I think of it, I have not tasted food -or drink since I have been in this place. I believe I am downright -faint. - -(_Drinks water from the brook in the palm of his hand; sinks beneath the -low boughs of a tree on thick moss. His head falls upon his arm. From a -distance, and from a height, slowly moving downwards, over the beautiful -landscape, robed in cream white, and unseen by_ DR. THORNE, - - _Enter_ MRS. FAYTH. - -_As she approaches, it can be seen that her robe also is clasped across -the breast by a little golden cross._) - -SPIRITS BEYOND (_softly chant the Te Deum_). - - “We praise Thee, O God: we acknowledge Thee to be - the Lord”-- - -(_Midway of the landscape, and playing merrily_,) - - _Enter the_ Two Children. - -FIRST CHILD (_running to_ MRS. FAYTH). Oh, here I am! (_He clasps her -hand; clings to her affectionately._) - -MRS. FAYTH (_to_ Second Child). Run yonder and play, Maidie. - -(Second Child _obeys prettily, and joins the spirits above_. MRS. FAYTH -_and the_ First Child _move slowly to the front of the landscape_.) - -THE CHILD. See that poor man under the tree! I think he’s a hungry -man--don’t you? - -(_He breaks away from_ MRS. FAYTH, _and runs to_ DR. THORNE; _examines -the exhausted man attentively, bending forward with his hands on his -little knees_. MRS. FAYTH _advances slowly, with her mysterious smile; -she does not speak_.) - -THE CHILD (_touches_ DR. THORNE _timidly; after a silence speaks, -ceremoniously_). Would you like a peach, or do you like plums instead? -I’ll pick you one. - -DR. THORNE (_arousing_). Who spoke to me? Oh, it is a child. (_Sinks -back feebly._) - -(The Child _gathers some fruit from the trees, and brings water from the -brook in the cup of an annunciation lily, which holds the liquid -perfectly; offers the food and drink to the exhausted man_. MRS. FAYTH, -_still unseen by_ DR. THORNE, _stands quite near, nodding and smiling -at_ The Child. The Child _looks to her for encouragement and -direction_.) - -DR. THORNE (_reviving_). Thank you, my little man. (_Leans on his elbow, -and gazes steadfastly at_ The Child; _rises to a sitting posture_.) - -THE CHILD (_creeps nearer to_ DR. THORNE, _and, after a moment’s -hesitation, throws his little length full on the moss at the man’s feet, -and scrutinizes him seriously, putting his chin into his hand as he does -so; speaks sympathetically_). Do you feel better now? - -DR. THORNE. Much better. You’re a thoughtful little fellow. - -THE CHILD. Our breakfasts grow all cooked here. This is a nice country. - -DR. THORNE (_still gazing steadfastly at_ The Child). Where is your -mother, my lad? - -THE CHILD. I don’t know. I lost her on the way, somewhere. - -DR. THORNE. And your father? What has become of your father? - -THE CHILD. Oh, _he’s_ dead. He got dead before I came here. - -MRS. FAYTH (_moves within_ DR. THORNE’S _range of vision_; _speaks -quietly_). Good-morning, Doctor. (_Smiles brightly._) - -DR. THORNE (_springs to his feet; cries out_). Mary Fayth! I thought you -had forgotten me! I have--needed you. - -(The Child _rises; leans up against_ DR. THORNE’S _knee confidingly_.) - -MRS. FAYTH. I have often needed _you_, Doctor. And you never failed me -once. - -DR. THORNE (_impetuously_). I thought you would have come before. I -looked for you-- - -MRS. FAYTH. As I have often looked for _you_. But I was not commanded to -meet you--till this very minute. - -DR. THORNE. Commanded? Commanded? There is that singular phrase again. -Have you seen Helen? (_Quickly._) - -MRS. FAYTH (_shakes her head_). Not yet. - -DR. THORNE. Have you seen your husband? Did they let _you_ go to -_Fred_? - -MRS. FAYTH (_contentedly_). Oh, many times. - -THE CHILD (_interrupting_). He doesn’t kiss me! (_Puts up his lips in a -grieved, babyish fashion._) - -MRS. FAYTH (_very quietly_). Doctor, don’t hurt that child’s feelings. -He’s yours. - -DR. THORNE (_gasping_). I don’t understand you! - -MRS. FAYTH. I have had the care of him since he came here. He’s kept me -busy, I can tell you. I am to give him over to you now.... See how he’s -grown! No wonder you didn’t know him. - -DR. THORNE (_in great agitation_). Did Laddie _die_? - -MRS. FAYTH (_solemnly_). Yes, Laddie died. - -DR. THORNE. Did something really ail him that night--that most miserable -night?... Oh, poor Helen! Poor, poor Helen! (_His face falls into his -hands. His frame shakes with soundless, tearless sobs._) - -LADDIE (_creeps into his lap; lays his head on his father’s neck_). -Hilloa, Papa! (_Pats his father on the cheek._) - -[_Exit_ MRS. FAYTH _silently, with emotion_. - -DR. THORNE (_raises his head, showing his stormy face. Clasps the child, -hesitatingly at first, then passionately; holds him off at arm’s length; -scans him closely; draws him back; kisses his little hands, then his -face; clasps him again_). My little son! Papa’s little boy! My son! My -little son! (_Smiles naturally for the first time since he died; then -with sudden recollection, he cries out._) Oh, what will your poor mother -do without you? - -LADDIE. You homesick, Papa? - -DR. THORNE. My little son! (_Caresses the child with a touching -timidity, broken by bursts of wild affection. The child responds warmly, -laughing for joy._) - - - - END OF SCENE I. - - -SCENE II. - -Dull daylight falls upon a wide and desolate expanse. -This has the appearance of a desert--unbroken and -arid. The horizon is low and heavy with cloud, and -is defined by a tossing sea-line against which no sail -appears. In the distance are cliffs, fissured by dark -cuts, but these are far away, and the foreground is -flat like sand or ashes, or it might be corrugated like -slag. There is no vegetation visible, and no sign of -organized life. - -_Enter_ DR. THORNE. (_He paces the sands, -mournfully gazing about him at the -lonely scenery. He murmurs, then -raises his voice rhythmically, like one -who quotes from an uncertain memory._) - -DR. THORNE. - -“A life as hollow as the echo in a cave - Hid in the heart of an unpeopled world.” - -Where did I get that? Oh, I remember. I had not thought of it for years. -That woman used to quote it to me. She was the most consistent infidel I -ever knew. She shied at nothing; took the consequences, both living and -dying.... A shocking death, though! I suppose the boy is all right with -Mrs. Fayth and that little chum of his. If it hadn’t been for that -discussion with Harvey I shouldn’t have left him. Wishing seems to be -doing, in this singular state of existence. A man makes a simple -astronomical inquiry about a planet, and forthwith he is in the planet. -Remarkable! (_Breaks off; continues._) How magnificent Helen was about -that affair. If she had doubted me--but she never did. She was superb. - -_Enter an_ EVIL SPIRIT. _Her garments -are of flame color. Her hair has the -same tint. On her forehead blazes a -single scarlet star. Her appearance -is queenly and confident. As she reveals -her face, it is seen to be that of -the woman whose wraith has followed_ -DR. THORNE _at intervals ever since -the hour of his death. Her robe, -which is opaque, reveals her bare -arms and feet, but covers her shoulders -and bosom with a certain modesty, -which is felt at once to be not -wholly natural to the woman. Each -footprint that she makes upon the -sand is marked by a small jet of -flame, which flares after she has -passed, and dies down quickly._ DR. -THORNE _stares at the woman in evident -and not well-pleased perplexity_. - -THE WOMAN (_speaks_). So? Am I forgotten on first principles? It is some -years since we had the pleasure of meeting. - -DR. THORNE (_coldly_). I begin to recognize you, Madam. - -CLEO. You did not know it, but I have given you several other -opportunities to do so since you died. - -DR. THORNE. I should think that quite possible--and characteristic. - -CLEO (_wincing_). Your tongue has not lost its edge! I’m afraid they -have not made a hopeful convert of you in yonder pious country.... -Confess, you’re bored past endurance with the whole thing? (_She draws a -little nearer to him, but is so adroit as not to touch him. She gives -him only her eyes, and these embrace him outright._) - -DR. THORNE (_regarding her steadily_). Did I ever choose _you_ for a -confidante? (_He steps back._) - -CLEO (_persistently_). Come, don’t be cross! Tell me, then, why have you -fled the first circles of celestial society--to mope out here alone? Oh, -you can’t deceive me. _I_ understand--I always understood you better -than any other woman living. (_In a low tone._) Your whole nature is in -antagonism with the very basis of existence in the state you’re plunged -into. What’s death? Nothing but a footstep. You’ve taken it. But you’re -the man you were.... Pouf! _That’s_ death. (_Snaps her fingers._) I’d -wager a waltz and a kiss that you are _ennuyé_ to madness over -there.... Admit it? (_Tenderly._) Admit it! (_Imperiously._) - -DR. THORNE (_uneasily_). I don’t profess to be thoroughly acclimated. -But I assure you I did not come here to sulk. On the contrary, I was -absorbingly interested in a scientific discussion with a distinguished -man. It was an astronomical point. I came here to verify it. I return at -once. (_Moves away._) - -CLEO. Don’t be in such a blatant hurry! It’s not polite. (_Pouting._) -I’ve studied a little astronomy myself of late.... Come! I can converse -about planets--if you will. Was it Neptune or Venus you undertook to -investigate? - -DR. THORNE (_not without interest_). I contended that it was -Neptune--before I came. - -CLEO. And now? - -DR. THORNE (_gloomily gazing at her_). I am inclined to think it is -Venus. - -(CLEO _laughs softly_.) - -(DR. THORNE _does not smile_.) - -CLEO (_abruptly_). Esmerald Thorne, do you know what has happened? You -are in an uninhabited world--with me. You are in a dead world, burnt to -ashes, burnt to slag and lava by its own fires. You are alone in -it--_alone with me.... (In a changed voice.) And I meant you should be._ -Oh, I’ve dreamed of this for years. I’ve held my breath for it, perished -for it.... Now, here we are--we two outcasts from the religious idea--we -who always rebelled against it, by the very bone and tissue of our -being.... We two (_tenderly_) _alone, at last_. (_She advances towards -him, and for the first time touches him, gently laying her hand upon his -shoulder._) - -DR. THORNE (_not rudely, but positively, removes her hand, stepping back -quickly, so that her arm falls heavily by her side_). Woman! Woman, what -are you? A spirit damned, or a spirit deluded?... I confess I never -knew. And I don’t know any better now. - -CLEO (_more modestly lifts his hand to her cheek; speaks gently_). Do -you know any better now? - -DR. THORNE (_withdrawing his hand_). My wife always said you were half -angel, half the other thing. She pitied you, I think. I confess I never -did, very much. - -CLEO (_wretchedly_). I never asked for the pity of Helen Thorne! - -DR. THORNE (_firmly_). You might well receive it, Madam. It would not -harm you any. - -CLEO (_suddenly_). Oh, everybody knew you were an irreproachable -husband. A blameless physician, of course. But we have changed all that. -You are quite free now--as free as I am, for that matter.... - -DR. THORNE (_nobly_). Yes; I am free, as you say. I am free to mourn my -wife, and love her ... and await her presence ... which has a value to -me that I do not ... I cannot discuss--with _you_. - -CLEO (_rebuffed, but gentle and sad_). I beg your pardon, Dr. Thorne. - -DR. THORNE (_takes a few steps nearer her_). And I yours ... if I have -wronged you. - -CLEO (_softly_). You feel so sure of her, then? Helen is so attractive! -These spiritual women always are--up to a certain point.... Life is a -long wait, brutally tedious. You know as well as I do how many--Now, -there is Dr. Gazell. A very consolable widower. - -DR. THORNE (_proudly_). Oh, that was a blunt stroke. _Gazell?_ If Gazell -were a dog by which my wife might track her way to me through the -mystery of death ... she might have some use for him ... hardly -otherwise. I gave you credit for some wit, Cleo. - -CLEO. I own the illustration was defective. But there are a plenty -better. There are gentler men than you. For my part, I don’t mind your -attacks of the devil. I never did. I’d take your cruelty to have your -tenderness--any day. But Mrs. Thorne is sensitive to kindness. She likes -the even disposition, the patient, model man. After all, there are a -good many of them. - -DR. THORNE (_lifting his head_). I am not afraid. - -CLEO (_turning away_). And you? She is a young woman. It may be -years.... - -DR. THORNE (_coldly_). You will have to excuse me. I left some one.... I -may be missed. I have ties which even you would respect, Madam. I must -return whence I came. (_He moves away._) - -(CLEO _hides her face in her hands; is heard to weep_.) - -DR. THORNE (_steps back_). Do you want my pity? - -CLEO (_murmurs_). Alone--in a desert world--we two--at last. Oh, you -don’t know the alphabet of happiness! You have everything to learn ... -from me. And we shall never be like this again! - -DR. THORNE (_frankly_). I hope not. - -CLEO (_suddenly starting, paces the ashes; throws her arms above her -head_). I always said you had a Nero in you.... Oh, I understood -you--_I_! But _you_.... It never occurred to you, I suppose, that you -died on my very day? I had been dead three years that night. - -DR. THORNE (_more gently_). What did you do it for, Cleo? You know I -warned you about that habit. You know I took the laudanum away from you. - -CLEO. But you could not cork up the Limited Express--could you? - -DR. THORNE. It was a dreadful death! Tell me, how do you fare? Where do -you live? Do you suffer? What is your lot? - -CLEO (_with sudden reserve, and not without dignity_) We suicides have -our own fate. We bear it. We do not reveal it. - -DR. THORNE (_uncomfortably_). Well--I must bid you good-morning. - -CLEO (_savagely_). At least, I gained something--if I lose all. Of -course, it never dawned on you that this was all my scheme? - -DR. THORNE (_in dismay_). _Your scheme?_ - -CLEO (_past control, raves_). Oh, I had watched my chance for years. I -knew _you_--your mad moods, your black temper.... Yourself slew -yourself, Esmerald Thorne. Your own weakness gave me my opportunity. I -waited for my moment. I sat in the buggy beside you.... I sometimes did -that when your evil had you. (I couldn’t get there when you were good, -you know.) I tried to take the reins. _I tried to get the whip_--I could -not do it. _I meant to hit the horse_--my arm was held. (There are -always so many of these holy busybodies about--angels and messengers of -sanctity--to interfere with one!) Oh, then I sprang out--over the wheel -into the street. You didn’t see me, _but Donna did_. When she shied I -clung to her bit. And then she bolted.... It was a very simple thing. - -(DR. THORNE _recoiling slowly, an expression of cold horror chills his -features_.) - -CLEO (_still raving_). Yes, I’ve murdered you--if you will--and Mary -Fayth besides. And I’ve broken Helen’s heart. Do you suppose that -counts? Who counts? Nobody on earth, or in heaven, or in hell. _I’ve got -you away from your wife...._ And in earth, or in heaven, or in hell, -I’ll have you yet.... - -DR. THORNE (_throwing out his hands; holds her off with evidences of -unbearable repulsion; speaks with difficulty_). And I pitied you a -moment since. Now I cannot scorn you. It is too fine a word. - -CLEO (_more calmly_). I can abide my time. - - _Enter_ LADDIE, _running rapidly_. - -LADDIE. Papa, Papa! Oh, I missed you, Papa! - -CLEO (_starting_). I did not know the child was dead! (_Looks -disconcerted._) - -DR. THORNE (_catches the child, and holds him to his heart; speaks_). -No. You only knew you left him fatherless. (_With much agitation, -continues._) How did you get here, Laddie? How did you find the way? -Papa hadn’t forgotten his little boy. I was coming right back to you, my -son. - -LADDIE (_mysteriously; looking about_). A man with wings brought me. We -flowed over.... He is waiting out there to take us back. (_Observing_ -CLEO, LADDIE _slips down to the ground, and backs up against his -father’s knees; points at the woman_.) Papa, I don’t like that lady. - -DR. THORNE (_cruelly_). My son, I cannot deny that I respect your taste. -(_Clasps the boy to his heart again; then puts him down once more, and, -with a fine motion, holds the child at arm’s-length between himself and -the woman._) - -CLEO (_averting her face_). I perceive the importance of the obstacle. I -admit ... that to love a man who is the father of another woman’s -child-- - -DR. THORNE (_interrupting_). And who loves the mother of his child-- - -(CLEO _sobs_.) - -DR. THORNE. Come, Laddie. (_He does not glance at the woman again._) - - [_Exeunt_ DR. THORNE _and_ LADDIE. - -CLEO (_yearning after him; stretches out her arms, but does not follow; -calls mournfully_). Oh, if you would come back a minute--only a -minute!... In heaven, or earth, or hell, I’d never ask _any_thing of you -again. A minute, a _minute_! - -(DR. THORNE _does not return, and does not reply_. CLEO _is left alone -in the dead world. She falls flat upon the slag and ashes._) - - - END OF SCENE II. - - -SCENE III. - -Picturesquely visible among the trees of a grove -appears a small, rustic cottage, curiously interwoven -of bark, vines, boughs, leaves, and flowers--a building -which seems to have grown from the conditions -and the colors of the grove. The sea and the sails -show beyond, through the trees. In the distant perspective -can be seen the city on the hill; in the intervale, -the foliage, flowers, fields, as before. - -The hour approaches sunset. A deep rich glow -mellows and melts the outlines of every object. - -(_Spirits pass and repass in the distance._) - -_Enter_ DR. THORNE _and_ HARVEY, _conversing -in low tones_. - - _Enter_ NORAH _and_ JERRY. - -JERRY. The brim of the avenin’ to yez, Doctor! Och! but this is a foine -counthree now. - -NORAH (_happily_). Me father is getting acquainted here. - -JERRY. I’m about to discover where the ... angels ... I’m at. - -DR. THORNE (_smiling_). You’ve got ahead of me then, Jerry. - - [_Exeunt_ NORAH _and_ JERRY. - -DR. THORNE (_to_ HARVEY). And why, for instance, was I directed or -allowed to take that astronomical tour before I had investigated my -immediate surroundings? - -HARVEY. A patient may _ask_ questions. In your experience, did you -always answer them? - -_Enter_ LADDIE (_running after his father, -whose hand he hurries to catch and -clasp_). - -DR. THORNE (_pointing to the architecture beyond_). And those public -buildings yonder--what do you call them? - -HARVEY. Those are our institutions of education and of mercy. They are a -great pleasure to us. We have our temples, colleges, music halls, -libraries, schools of science, hospitals, galleries of art, as a matter -of course. What did you _suppose_ we did with our intellects and our -leisure? - -DR. THORNE. I never supposed anything on the subject. I never thought -about it. - -HARVEY. Precisely. You are very ignorant--for a man of your gifts. Now, -our hospitals-- - -DR. THORNE. Pray do not mock me, Doctor Harvey. If you _had_ a hospital, -you could find me something to do. The humiliating idleness of this -place crushes me. I seem to be of no more use here than a paralytic -patient was in my own charity ward at home. I am become of no more -social importance than the janitor or the steward used to be. I am of no -consequence. I am not in demand. No person desires my services. The -canker of idleness eats upon me. Here, in this world of spirits, I am an -unscientific, useless fellow. If you have anything whatever in the shape -of a hospital, I beg you to find me employment in it. At least, I could -keep the temperature charts, if I am not to be trusted with any cases. - -HARVEY (_smiling sadly_). Your cure proceeds but slowly, my patient. I -did not think you were a _dull_ man. Must you be taught the elements? -Our sick are not of the body, but are sick of soul. Our patients are -chiefly from among the newly arrived who are at odds with the spirit of -the place; hence, they suffer discomfort. Can _you_ administer holiness -to a will and heart diseased? - -(DR. THORNE _shakes his head; bows it in bitter silence. He stands lost -in thought. As he does so, sunset deepens to twilight on the land._ -LADDIE _drops his father’s hand; plays among the annunciation lilies_. -HARVEY, _with a courtly salute, retires. He does not speak further to_ -DR. THORNE.) - - [_Exit_ HARVEY. - -LADDIE (_breaks one of the tall lily-stalks--gently, for a boy. As he -does so, the cup opens, and a little white bird flies out, hangs poised -in the air a moment_). Oh, the beautiful! (_Catches the bird, which he -handles tenderly._) Papa! Papa! I went to pick a lily, and I picked a -bird! Oh, Papa, what a pretty country! - -DR. THORNE (_smiling in spite of himself_). Come here, my lad. -(_Caresses the child with pathetic gratitude._) If it were not for you, -little man-- (_Bows his face on the child’s head._) - -(_The twilight changes slowly to moonlight._) - -LADDIE (_restlessly_). I must go find Maidie and show her my white bird. -They didn’t grow in her street. - -DR. THORNE (_anxiously_). Don’t go far, my child. You might lose your -way. - -LADDIE (_with a peal of laughter_). We never lose our way in this nice -country. - - [_Exit_ LADDIE. - -(DR. THORNE _paces the path desolately; does not speak. As the moonlight -brightens, groups of spirits stroll among the fields and trees. These -walk often two by two. They are, and yet are not, like earthly lovers. -They murmur softly, and express delight to be together; and some of them -go hand in hand, or with arms intertwined. But a beautiful reserve -pervades their behavior. Faintly from beyond arise the strains of the -Serenade of Schubert’s, played with extreme softness and refinement, but -with a depth of emotion which carries the heart before it._ DR. THORNE -_listens to the music. The sails quiver on the distant water, and faint -figures can be seen moving on the beach. The passion flowers salute each -other. The great Serenade plays on._) - -_Enter_ MRS. FAYTH. (_Her smiling face -is grave, or even a little sad. She is -moved by the music, and seems to sway -towards it._ DR. THORNE _holds out -his hand to her_. MRS. FAYTH _extends -her own, confidingly. The two stand -listening to the music, like comrades -bereft of other ties; on her face rests -a frank, affectionate expression; on -his a desolate leaning towards the -nearest sympathy. They glance at -the spirits who are strolling two by -two through the celestial evening. The -music is suspended._) - -DR. THORNE (_moodily_). This foreign country would be lonelier without -you, Mary Fayth. - -MRS. FAYTH (_frankly_). Of course it would!... It is a lovely thing that -we died together.... It has been a comfort to me, Doctor. - -DR. THORNE. And to me.... Helen would be pleased.... Helen might like to -have it so, I’ve thought ... if she thinks of me at all. - -MRS. FAYTH (_quickly_). She thinks of nothing but you ... all the time. - -DR. THORNE (_eagerly_). How do you know? Have you been there? Can _you_ -see Helen? - -MRS. FAYTH (_mysteriously smiling_). Don’t ask me!... - -DR. THORNE (_imperiously_). When was it? How did you get there? How did -she look?--Is she well?--Did she look very wretched? Were her lips pale? -Or only her cheeks? Does she weep much? Can she sleep?--Is she living -quite alone?--Oh, how does she bear it? (_He trips upon his words, and -stops abruptly._) - -(_A strain from the Serenade breathes, and sighs away._) - -MRS. FAYTH (_gently but evasively_). My poor friend! - -(DR. THORNE _and_ MRS. FAYTH _unclasp hands, and stand side by side, -silently in the moonlight. A certain remoteness overtakes their manner. -Each is drowned in thought in which the other has no share. The Serenade -is heard again._ MRS. FAYTH, _with a mute, sweet gesture of farewell, -glides gravely away_. DR. THORNE _does not seek to detain her_.) - - [_Exit_ MRS. FAYTH. - -(_The Serenade plays on steadily._) - -DR. THORNE (_puts his hands to his ears, as if to shut out the music, -which falls very faintly as he speaks_). Between herself and me the -awful gates of death have shut. To pass them--though I would die again -to do it--to pass them for one hour, for one moment, for love’s sake, -for grief’s sake--or for pity’s own--I am forbidden. (_Breaks off._) ... -Her forgiveness! Her forgiveness! The longing for it gnaws upon me.... -Oh, her unfathomable tenderness--passing the tenderness of women!--It -would lean out and take me back to itself, as her white arms took me to -her heart--when I came home--after a hard day’s work--tired out.... -Helen! _Helen!_ - -(_The music strengthens as he ceases to speak; then faints again._) - -DR. THORNE (_moans_). For very longing for her, I would fain forget -her.... No! No! No! (_Starts._) Never would I forget her! To all -eternity would I think of her and suffer, if I must, because I think of -her.... I ... love her ... so. - -(_The Serenade ceases slowly, and sighs away._) - -(DR. THORNE _stands with the moonlight on his face. It is rapt, and -carries a certain majesty._) - -(_Spirits pass. Some of them glance at him, with wonder and respect. No -one addresses him. He stands like a statue of strong and noble solitude. -He does not perceive the presence of any spirit._) - -_Enter_ The Child. (_Runs to his father. -Springs into his arms._) - -THE CHILD. Lonesome, Papa? I will comfort you. - -DR. THORNE (_clasps the boy, who seems half-overcome with sleepiness. -Lays him gently on the grass_). Go to sleep, my child. It is growing -late. (LADDIE _drops asleep_.) - -DR. THORNE (_continues to speak, for his emotion bears him on_). I did -not expect to live when I was dead. I lived--I died--and yet I live. I -did not think that love would live when breath was gone. I loved--I -blasphemed love--I breathed my last--and still I love. If this be -true--_any_thing may be true-- (_breaks off_). God! It may be years -before I can see her face--twenty years--thirty-- (_groaning_)--_Whence_ -came the love of man and woman, that it should outlive the laws of -Nature, and defy dissolution, and outlast the body, and curse or bless -the spirit? If love can live, anything can live. Since this -is--_any_thing may be-- (_Falters; glances about; finds himself quite -alone with the sleeping child; lifts his eyes to the sky, and then his -hands; stands irresolute. Then slowly, reluctantly, still standing -manfully upright, with a touching embarrassment._) - -DR. THORNE (_prays_). Almighty God!--if there be a God Almighty. Reveal -thyself to my immortal soul!--if I have a soul immortal. - - * * * * * - -(_The moonlight fades into a dark midnight. The figure of_ DR. THORNE -_disappears in it_.) - -(_Dawn comes on subtly, but at once, for the nights and days of Paradise -are not governed by the laws of earth, and day breaks splendidly over -the heavenly world._) - -_Enter the_ Two Children (_playing with -flowers, and tasting fruit_). - -LADDIE. How did you like coasting down that waterfall on rainbows? - -MAIDIE. I want that butterfly--with fire on it. - -LADDIE. Don’t be stupid, because you’re dead! That is a flower. (_Picks -a flower in the shape of a butterfly with jeweled wings; hands it to the -girl._) No, it won’t fly. It isn’t grown up yet. - -MAIDIE. Shall I fly when I’m grown up? I’ve got wings, too. (_Shows her -feet, on the heels of which a tiny pair of wings appear._) - -LADDIE (_jealously_). I didn’t know you had them. That’s why you can -jump over things and get ahead of me. - - _Enter_ DR. THORNE _and_ MRS. FAYTH. - -MRS. FAYTH. Doctor, I don’t know what ails me. Perhaps it’s a symptom--a -moral symptom--but I can’t help thinking of Cleo. I wonder-- - -DR. THORNE (_with reserve_). I do not care to speak of the woman. - -MRS. FAYTH. You are right. But I did not mean to be wrong. (I think it -must have been a symptom.) It’s the first time I’ve felt nervous since I -died. I beg your pardon. - -LADDIE (_running to meet them_). Papa! Maidie’s got wings on her feet. -Why don’t _I_ have some? Papa! Papa! Come into your new house. It grew -up out of the woods--like--like acorns. - -DR. THORNE (_addressing_ MRS. FAYTH, _looking towards the cottage_). It -is a shelter for the child, at all events. Quite in accordance with my -present social position in this place--a mere cottage--but it makes him -a home, poor little fellow! - -MRS. FAYTH. It’s just what Helen would like. She hates palaces. - -DR. THORNE (_starts as if stabbed; makes no reply_). - -LADDIE (_suddenly_). Oh, Papa, Mrs. Fayth’s got wings on her feet, too. -Her dress covers them up. I like her better than I did that lady you -were so cross to. - -MRS. FAYTH (_laughing_). I am so well!--oh, so well! I am a-shamed to be -so happy! I walk on air. I float on clouds. I move on waves. All nature -seems to be under my feet, and her glory in my heart.... Poor Doctor! -(_Breaks off and looks at him with quick sympathy._) And yet I tru-ly -think you im-prove in spirits. You don’t look armed to the teeth, all -the time--now. - -DR. THORNE (_smiles cheerfully_). A man must respect law, whatever state -he is in. I would conform to the customs of this place, so far as I can. -I would do this for the boy’s sake, at least. I don’t wish to be a -disgrace to him in this system of things. - -MRS. FAYTH. Does Doctor Harvey treat you by scien-ti-fic ev-olu-tion? -That’s a man’s way. It’s a pretty slow one. - -LADDIE (_insistently_). Papa, she _has_ got wings on her feet. - -MRS. FAYTH (_blushing_). Go away and play, children. - -(_The children run to the cottage. The little girl bounds before, with a -light, flying motion. They play in the cottage at “keeping house,” -running in and out._) - -(_Suddenly a change takes place upon the landscape. Its colors soften -and melt. Flying tints, like light broken through many prisms, float -upon the white flowers, rest upon the annunciation lilies, and -delicately touch the white robe of_ MRS. FAYTH. _In fact, the whole -atmosphere takes on the appearance of a vast rainbow. Music from the -temple sounds clearly._) - -VOICES (_can be heard singing_):-- - - “Thou that takest away the - Sins of the world!” - -MRS. FAYTH (_starts with a listening, devout expression_). Do you hear -that?... Oh, watch, Doctor! Watch for what will happen! - -(_Spirits can be seen suddenly moving from all directions. They hurry, -and exhibit signs of joyful excitement. The singing continues; -repeats_:-- - - “Thou that takest away the - Sins of the world!”) - -(_Now over the brilliant landscape falls a long, sharp, strange shadow. -It is seen to be the shadow of a mighty cross, which, if raised upright, -would seem to reach from earth to heaven. The children run back from the -cottage._) - -LADDIE. Papa! who is worship? Is it a kind of game? Papa, what is Lord? -Is it people’s mother? What is it for? - -DR. THORNE (_with embarrassment_). Alas, my boy, your father is not a -learned man. - -LADDIE (_imperiously_). Teach me that pretty song! I cannot sing it. All -the other children can-- - -VOICES (_chanting_):-- - - “Thou givest, - Thou givest, - Eternal life!” - -DR. THORNE (_sadly_). My son, I cannot sing it, either. - -LADDIE (_with reproach, and with a certain dignity_). Father, I wish you -_were_ a learned man. (_Walks away from his father; goes up the path. -The little girl follows him._) - -(_The evidences of public excitement increase visibly. From every part -of the country spirits can be seen moving, with signs of acute pleasure. -Some hasten towards the Temple; others gather in groups in the roads and -paths; all present a reverent but joyful aspect._) - -MRS. FAYTH (_gliding away_). I cannot lose a moment. (_Beckons to_ DR. -THORNE _as she moves out of the grove and up the path. Calls._) Doctor! -Doctor! - -DR. THORNE (_shakes his head_). I do not understand. - -(MRS. FAYTH _remains still full in sight, standing as if to watch a -pageant or to see the prominent figure of a procession_.) - -(LADDIE _runs on beyond her, watching eagerly; shades his eyes with his -little hand_.) - -(MAIDIE _flits along with him_.) - -(DR. THORNE _stands quite alone. He, too, shades his eyes with his -hand, and scans the horizon and the foreground closely._) - -(_The shadow of the great cross falls upon him where he stands._) - -(_It can now be seen that the happy people beyond give evidence of -greeting some one who is passing by them. Some weep for joy; others -laugh for rapture. Some stretch their arms out as if in ecstasy. Some -throw themselves on the ground in humility. Some seem to be entreating a -benediction. But the figure of Him who passes by them remains invisible. -The excitement now increases, and extends along the group of spirits -until it reaches those in the foreground. Here can now be seen and -recognized some old patients of_ DR. THORNE’S--MRS. TRUE, NORAH, _and_ -JERRY.) - -(_These wear the golden cross upon the breast._ HARVEY _enters -unnoticed, and mingles with the crowd. He stands behind_ MRS. FAYTH, -_who remains rapt and mute, full in the light. She has forgotten_ DR. -THORNE.) - -(DR. THORNE _watches the scene with pathetic perplexity. He does not -speak._) - -(_The chanting continues, and the strain swells louder._) - -[Illustration: - -_dolce._ - -Thou that tak-est a-way the sins of the -world! And givest, and giv-est e-ter-nal life! -] - -(_Now the Invisible Figure makes the impression of having reached the -nearer groups._) - -(NORAH _falls upon her knees_.) - -(JERRY _salutes respectfully, as if he recognized a dear and honored -employer whom he wished to serve and please_.) - -(MRS. TRUE _reaches out her arms with reverent longing_.) - -(MAIDIE _kisses her little hands to the Unseen_.) - -(HARVEY _stands devoutly with bowed head_.) - -(MRS. FAYTH _holds out both hands lovingly. Then she sinks to the ground -upon her knees and makes the delicate motion of one who puts to her lips -the edge of the robe of the Unseen Passer. Her whole expression is -rapturous._) - -(LADDIE, _breaking away from his elders, now boldly steps out into the -path. He looks up; shades his eyes, as if from a brilliance; then -confidingly puts out his hand, as if he placed it in an Unseen Hand, and -walks along, smiling like a child who is led by One whom he trusts and -loves._) - -DR. THORNE (_in distress_). I see nothing!--No one! I am blind--blind! - -(_Chanting._) - - “Thou that takest away - The sins of the world!” ... - -(DR. THORNE _covers his face. The music ceases. The air grows dimmer -than twilight. But there is no moon, nor is it dark. The groups in the -foreground move away in quiet happiness, like those who have had their -heart’s wish granted._) - -(_Harvey_, MRS. TRUE, NORAH, JERRY, _and_ MAIDIE _mingle with the other -spirits_.) - -(MRS. FAYTH _rises from her knees; melts slowly in the dusk_.) - -(LADDIE _runs into the grove, and disappears in the gloom. He acts as if -looking for some one._) - -DR. THORNE (_remains alone. He paces the grove, irresolute--then -suddenly turns in the direction whence the Invisible had come; walks -uncertainly up the path; searches, as if for signs of the Passer; -examines the grass, the shrubbery; touches the flowers, to see if they -had bent beneath His feet; stoops; examines the pathway reverently; -speaks in a low tone_). The footprint! I have found the footprint! There -_was_ One passing. And He stepped here. But I was blind! (_Hesitates; -lifts his face to the sky; drops it to his breast; murmurs -inarticulately. Then slowly--as if half his nature battled with the -other half, and every fibre of his being yielded hard--he drops upon his -knees. He remains silent in this posture._) - -(_From the depth of the grove behind_ DR. THORNE’S _cottage_,) - -_Enter_ CLEO _stealthily_. (_She watches_ -DR. THORNE _with an expression in -which love, fear, reproach, and astonishment -contend. She makes no -sign, nor in any way is her presence -revealed to_ DR. THORNE. _Taking a -few steps forward, she touches the -shadow of one arm of the mighty -cross._ CLEO _retreats in confusion_.) - -_Enter_ The Child (_running down the -path_). Papa! Papa! (_Points up the -path. Beckons to his father. Points -ecstatically._) Look, look, Papa! - -(DR. THORNE _arises to his full height; looks where_ The Child -_points_.) - -(_Slowly and solemnly_,) - -_Enter_ JESUS THE CHRIST. _(Our Lord -appears as a majestic figure, melting -of outline, divine of mien, with arms -outstretched in benediction._) - -(CLEO _at sight of the_ Sacred Figure _wrings her hands in anguish, and -makes as if she would flee; but remains gazing at the Vision, as if -compelled by forces unknown to her. As the Vision draws nearer_, CLEO -_drops upon her face. Her long hair covers her. All her contours blur -into the increasing shadow. The scene is now quite dark, except for the -light which falls from the_ PERSON OF OUR LORD. _This shall fully -reveal_ THE MAN, _who falls at the feet of the Vision, and_ THE CHILD, -_who stands entranced, with his little arms around his father’s neck._) - -DR. THORNE (_lifts his hands rapturously_). I _was_ blind--But, now, I -see! (_Accepts and remains in the attitude of worship as manfully as he -had refused it._) - -(THE SACRED FIGURE _stirs, as if to meet the kneeling man; slowly dims, -melts, and fades; vanishes_.) - - - END OF SCENE III. - - -SCENE IV. - -In the same perspective as Scene III. is the Heavenly -City on the Hill. Thronging spirits move to -and fro. - -The distance is full of radiance and of happy social -life. In the foreground is seen a dim and desolate -place. It is cavernous and mountainous. Its extreme -edge yawns over a black space, like a gulf or pit, or -it might be the mouth of an underground river. Here -and there is a stark, dead tree. A narrow footpath -winds among the crags. The path turns a sharp -corner between boulders; and the fair contrast of a -sunny country smiles beyond it. Rosebushes in full -bloom peer above the top of the rocks. The annunciation -lily is still prominent among the flowers. No -sign of life appears in the mountainous foreground. - -Suddenly, silently, and swiftly, moving from the -sunny land, around the sharp turn in the pathway, -feet and face set toward the cavernous region, - -_Enter_ AZRAEL, _Angel of Death_. (_The -Angel is immovable of manner. But -an obvious tenderness wars with the -solemnity of his expression. He looks -neither to the right nor to the left, but -glides over the rough path steadily; -his robe, which is of dull, white gauze, -conceals his feet; his wings are -folded; he carries no flaming sword, -nor any weapon._) - -(_After a moment’s interval, following_ THE ANGEL _quickly_,) - -_Enter_ DR. THORNE (_his robe is much -paler, but still of a purplish tint. It -is now clasped by the golden cross. -He cries aloud_). Azrael! - -ECHO (_from the caverns_). Azrael! - -(AZRAEL _makes no reply. Moves on steadily._) - -DR. THORNE (_in a lower voice_). Azrael, Angel of Death! - -(AZRAEL _turns his head, but without pausing_.) - -DR. THORNE. In the name of Him who strove with thee, and conquered -thee--whither goest thou, Azrael? - -(AZRAEL _pauses. He looks over his folded wing at the man; regards him -steadily; does not speak; moves on again._ DR. THORNE _utters an -inarticulate exclamation. He follows the Angel. Halfway down the path he -stops, perplexed. His expression is anxious._ AZRAEL _moves on. He does -not again look back; glides to the edge of the ravine. The scene -darkens. The Angel does not pause, but can be seen to cross the gulf -fleetly. He does not fly, but appears to tread the air across the -space._) - - [_Vanish_ AZRAEL. - -(DR. THORNE _stands alone in the gloom. His eyes are fixed upon the spot -where the Angel disappeared. A low, rushing sound, as of water, can now -be heard._) - -DR. THORNE (_shudders; speaks_). It seems like an underground river. -Horrible! (_Calls._) Azrael! Tell me thine errand--in this fearful -place! - -(AZRAEL _neither replies nor appears. It grows very dark. The -perspective of the Heavenly City fades. The rushing of the river can be -heard. Now, through the unearthly gloom, upon the hither side of the -gulf, slowly grow to form the outlines of a Woman. She stretches her -arms out with the motion of one feeling her way. She moves with -difficulty, tripping sometimes, but regaining her footing bravely. Her -robe is light. Her face cannot be recognized._) - -DR. THORNE (_on whose sensitive countenance falls the only light in the -scene, shows an unaccountable emotion. He murmurs_). It is a -woman--alone--exhausted ... and a stranger. As I serve her, so may God -send some soul of fire and snow to serve my dear wife--in _her_ hour of -mortal need! (_He advances towards the woman with a chivalrous -sympathy._) - -(The Woman _moves on steadily; weakens; reels, but holds her ground. It -can now be seen that her eyes are closed. She falls. She does not cry -out._) - -DR. THORNE. How brave you are! Keep courage. (_Catches her before she -touches the ground. She lies in his arms in a faint or collapse._) - -(DR. THORNE _carries her along midway of the scene_.) - -(_It lightens slowly. As it does so, it can be seen that the woman is -young and fair, and fine of nature. Her robe is of dazzling white; it -has a surface like that of satin-finished gauze, which reflects all the -light there is. Her long, dark hair is disordered, and falls about her. -She is pale. Her eyes do not open. She lies helplessly in his arms._) - -(DR. THORNE _lays her gently against the trunk of a dead tree, which has -fallen across a hollow in the cliff, and which rests so as to support -the woman. He seats himself beside her; bends to examine her face._) - -DR. THORNE (_recognizes the face of the woman; cries in a voice that -rings through the hills_). _Helen!_ - -THE ECHO (_takes up the cry_). _Helen!_ - -HELEN THORNE (_is half-conscious and confused; does not open her eyes; -murmurs_). Will it last long? - -DR. THORNE (_clasps her reverently. As his arms touch her, they can be -seen to tremble. He moans_). My--poor--wife! - -HELEN THORNE (_still lying with closed eyes; murmurs, but more -distinctly_). I said I would die two deaths for him.... Are they over, -yet?... if that would help him any ... where he had gone. (_Opens her -eyes, but they see nothing. Dreamily and solemnly, as if repeating a -familiar prayer, she speaks softly._) Great God! I will die ten deaths -for him ... and count myself a happy woman ... if that will make it any -easier for _him_. - -DR. THORNE (_groaning, puts his wife gently from him, as if she were a -being too sacred for his touch. Turns his face from her; speaks_). I am -not fit!... I dare not touch her! - -HELEN THORNE (_praying_). Dear Lord! I would die for him ... as Thou -didst die for us.... If that could be.... _Dear_ Lord! - -DR. THORNE (_utterly broken_). I am a sinful man, O God! (_Removes from -her, and stands with his face in his hands._) - -HELEN THORNE (_recovering full consciousness, and with it sudden -strength, lifts herself to a sitting posture; looks about her; half -rises. Suddenly she recognizes her husband, where he stands aloof. She -cries plaintively_). Esmerald?--Isn’t it over yet? _Esmerald!_ Have you -forgotten me? Don’t you _care_ for me any more?... (_piteously_). Oh, -Death! I did not think that thou wouldst _crucify_ me ... _so_! - -(_Sudden darkness falls. When it passes, the gulf, the dark mountain, -the underground river, the ravines are gone. Slow and sweet light -returns softly. It is the setting of the sun. The perspective of the -Heavenly City and spirits are as before. The grim scenery surrounding -the mouth of the River of Death has given place to a fair meadow, sunny -and open. Some of the boulders remain, and the path which cut through -the ravine now runs across the field. Clumps of trees and thick shrubs -break the space between the foreground and the distant spirits, and the -path turns a curve through a thicket of roses. Lilies as before grow -higher than any other flowers, and nearer to the eye._) - -HELEN THORNE (_stands, tall and glorious. Faint color has returned to -her pale face. Her expression is radiant. She looks downward and -stretches down her hands; speaks, very softly_). Dear! - -DR. THORNE (_prostrate at his wife’s feet, speaks_). Forgive! _Forgive_ -me, Helen. - -(HELEN THORNE _smiles divinely. Stoops to lift him up._) - -(DR. THORNE _resists her still, and, fallen at her feet, he draws the -hem of her robe slowly to his lips. Then he lays his cheek upon her feet -before he reverently kisses them._) - -DR. THORNE. I said ... oh, I have broken my heart for what I said ... to -you! - -HELEN THORNE (_reaches down her beautiful arms to him. Draws him up_). -Why, my poor Love! My dear Love! Did you think I would remember _that_? - -(DR. THORNE _arises. Holds out his shaking arms; does not speak._) - -(HELEN THORNE _in silence creeps to him, not royally, like a wife who -was wronged; but like the sweetest woman in the world, who loves him -because she cannot help it, and would not if she could. Her face falls -upon his breast._) - -(DR. THORNE, _as if she were a goddess, still not daring to caress her, -lays his cheek upon her soft hair. Before her face, but not touching it, -he delicately curves his hand as if he enclosed a sacred flame from the -rude air._) - -HELEN THORNE (_lifts her face to his. Her eyes, all womanly, turn to him -in Paradise as they did on earth. She speaks softly_). I am in Heaven -... after all! - -DR. THORNE. And I have never been there ... until now! (_He clasps her -slowly to his heart; turns her face back upon his arm and reverently -looks at it; scans it adoringly; humbly crying._) Helen! _Helen!_ - -(DR. THORNE _kisses his wife’s brow--eyes--cheek--and then her lips. -Suddenly, around the curve in the path where the thicket of roses -blossoms, running rapidly_,) - -_Enter_ LADDIE (_carrying a stalk of the -white lilies. He cries_). Papa! Papa! -I’ve lost you, Papa! (_The child runs -down the path. Closely following -him, fair and gentle, brightly smiling_,) - -_Enter_ MRS. FAYTH. (_She draws back -quickly; utters an inarticulate exclamation; -extends her hands in an impulsive -gesture of delight. But she -withdraws and puts her finger on her -lips. She retreats without speaking._) - -(MRS. FAYTH, _hidden for a moment behind the thicket of roses, reappears -beyond with the other spirits. The group of spirits stirs upward in the -bright scenery._) - -(DR. THORNE _and_ his Wife, _having seen or heard nothing, still stand -rapt, embracing solemnly_.) - -LADDIE (_stops on the path, irresolute. Frowns a little in pretty, -childish perplexity; makes as if he would go back; looks at the two -again. Then suddenly darts forward; cries_). Why, that’s my Mamma! -(_Springs to her; clutches at her white robe, pulls at her hand._) - -HELEN THORNE (_recognizes the child instantly, despite his larger -stature; she cries out_). Why, my little boy! Mother’s baby boy! Oh! -_you_ again, ... you, too! My little, little boy. (_Catches him to her; -kisses him wildly; holds him, and releases him, and holds him again. -Murmurs half-intelligible words brokenly._) Mother’s baby!... Mother’s -beauty!... Oh, mamma _missed_ you, sonny-boy-- - -(DR. THORNE _does not speak. His face is shining. He holds his wife -within his arms as if he feared to lose her if he loosened them._) - -(THE CHILD, _laughing softly, fondles his mother. The three stand -clinging together rapturously._) - -VOICES (_from beyond the rose thicket chant_). - - “As it was in the beginning, is now, - And ever shall be, - World without end. Amen.” - -(_Chorus of spirits from the region of the Temple on the Heavenly Hill -very softly sing._) - - “O Paradise! O Paradise! - The world is growing old. - Who would not see that heavenly land, - Where love is never cold?” ... - -(_As they sing, the fair country brightens subtly, and all the heavenly -scene is radiant. The moving groups of spirits seem to be joining in the -song._) - -(DR. THORNE _and_ his Wife, _turning, look into one another’s faces. -They do not speak._) - -(_Now, delicately, it shall be seen to darken on the bright land, and a -holy half-light touches every outline._) - -(The Child _leaves his parents. He walks a few steps away, shading his -eyes with one hand, as if he saw invisible glory; in the other hand he -carries the annunciation lily._) - -(_Vaguely at first, then more definitely; slowly and solemnly_,) - - _Enter_ JESUS THE CHRIST. - -(_The_ Sacred Figure _advances towards the_ Man _and_ Woman, _who are -unconscious of the approach. Its hands are stretched in benediction. It -stands for a moment, mutely, and unseen by them._) - -(The Boy _runs towards it fearlessly; seats himself upon the -meadow-grass at the feet of the_ Figure.) - -(_The_ Sacred Figure _stirs towards the child. All the light in the -scene now falls from the_ Figure.) - -(_The_ Man, _the_ Woman, _and the_ Child _receive its full effulgence_.) - -VOICES FROM BEYOND (_sing_). - - “Where loyal hearts and true - Stand ever in the light, - Enraptured through and through”-- - -(_The_ Man _and the_ Woman _now perceive the_ Sacred Figure. _They fall -to their knees. The man’s arm still encircles his wife. They bow their -heads before the Divine Presence._) - -(_The_ Child, _with the lifted lily, remains at the feet of the_ -CHRIST.) - -VOICES FROM BEYOND (_repeat_). - - “Enraptured through and through, - In God’s most holy sight.” - -(_The_ Sacred Figure _dims and slowly fades. With it disappears the -stalk of annunciation lilies. The light returns softly upon the -celestial scenery._) - -(_The_ Sacred Figure _vanishes_.) - -(_The_ Man, _the_ Woman, _and_ Child _stay gazing after it_.) - -(_Now a mist breathes upon the Heavenly City and the sunny country. All -the outlines of the happy scenery blur and faint._) - -(_The groups of spirits grow dim._) - -(_Distant music softly sustains the strains of the song; but without -words._) - -(_And now the golden mist slowly envelops the_ Man, _the_ Woman, _and -the_ Child, _who remain for a moment before the eyes--a vision--solemn, -tender, and half unreal_.) - -(_The music continues very faintly. The strain slowly ceases._) - -(_The mist dulls, deepens, and thickens, till it rolls like an -impenetrable curtain before the vanished scene._) - - - END OF THE DRAMA. - - The Riverside Press - _Electrotyped and printed by H. O. Houghton & Co. - Cambridge, Mass., U. S. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Within the Gates - -Author: Elizabeth Stuart Phelps - -Release Date: December 23, 2016 [EBook #53794] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WITHIN THE GATES *** - - - - -Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images available at The Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/cover_lg.jpg"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="333" height="500" alt="Book's cover" /></a> -</div> - -<div class="bbox"> -<p class="c"><i>FICTION AND BIOGRAPHY</i><br /> -<span class="eng">By Elizabeth Stuart Phelps</span><br /> -(MRS. WARD)</p> - -<p class="c">———</p> -<p><span class="sans">THE GATES </span>. 16mo, $1.50.</p> - -<p><span class="sans">BEYOND THE </span>. 16mo, $1.25.</p> - -<p><span class="sans">THE GATES </span>. 16mo, $1.25.</p> - -<p><span class="sans">WITHIN THE </span>. A Drama. 12mo, $1.25.</p> - -<p>MEN, WOMEN, AND GHOSTS. Stories. 16mo, $1.50.</p> - -<p><span class="sans">HEDGED </span>. 16mo, $1.50.</p> - -<p><span class="sans">THE SILENT </span>. 16mo, $1.50.</p> - -<p><span class="sans">THE STORY OF </span>. 16mo, $1.50.</p> - -<p><span class="sans">SEALED </span>. 16mo, $1.50.</p> - -<p>FRIENDS: A Duet. 16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents.</p> - -<p><span class="sans">DOCTOR </span>. 16mo, $1.25.</p> - -<p><span class="sans">AN OLD </span>. 16mo, $1.25.</p> - -<p><span class="sans">THE MASTER OF THE </span>. Collaborated with <span class="smcap">Herbert D. Ward</span>. -16mo, $1.25; paper, 50 cents.</p> - -<p><span class="sans">COME FORTH!</span> Collaborated with <span class="smcap">Herbert D. Ward</span>. 16mo, $1.25; paper, -50 cents.</p> - -<p><span class="sans">FOURTEEN TO </span>. Short Stories. 16mo, $1.25.</p> - -<p><span class="sans">DONALD </span>. 16mo, $1.25.</p> - -<p><span class="sans">A SINGULAR </span>. 16mo, $1.25.</p> - -<p><span class="sans">THE SUPPLY AT SAINT </span>. Illustrated. Square 12mo, $1.00.</p> - -<p><span class="sans">THE MADONNA OF THE </span>. Illustrated. Square 12mo, boards, 75 -cents.</p> - -<p><span class="sans">JACK THE </span>. Illustrated. Square 12mo, boards, 50 cents.</p> - -<p><span class="sans">THE SUCCESSORS OF MARY THE </span>. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.50.</p> - -<p>LOVELINESS: A Story. Illustrated. Square 12mo, $1.00.</p> - -<p><span class="sans">CHAPTERS FROM A </span>. Illustrated. 12mo, $1.50.</p> - -<p><span class="sans">THE STORY OF JESUS </span>. Illustrated. Crown -8vo, $2.00.</p> - -<p class="c"><span class="smcap">The Same.</span> <i>Popular Edition.</i> Illustrated. 16mo, $1.25.</p> - -<p class="c"> -HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO.<br /> -<span class="smcap">Boston and New York</span><br /> -</p> - -</div> - -<h1>WITHIN THE GATES</h1> - -<p class="c">BY<br /> -<br /> -ELIZABETH STUART PHELPS<br /> -<br /> - -<img src="images/colophon.png" width="110" alt="" title="" /> -<br /> -<br /> -BOSTON AND NEW YORK<br /> -HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY<br /> -<span class="eng">The Riverside Press, Cambridge</span><br /> -1901<br /> -<br /> -<small>COPYRIGHT, 1900, BY ELIZABETH STUART PHELPS WARD<br /> -ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.</small> -</p> - -<div class="bbox"> -<p class="c"> -<a href="#ACT_I_SCENE_I"><b>ACT I.</b></a><br /> -<a href="#ACT_II"><b>ACT II.</b></a><br /> -<a href="#ACT_III"><b>ACT III.</b></a><br /> -</p> -</div> - -<p>This drama has so departed from the plan of the original story, “The -Gates Between,” published by me long ago, that it is, in fact, a new -work, and has therefore received a new title.—E. S. P. W.</p> - -<h2><a name="DRAMATIS_PERSONAE" id="DRAMATIS_PERSONAE"></a>DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.</h2> - -<p class="nind"> -<span class="smcap">Doctor Esmerald Thorne</span>, <i>a city physician</i>.<br /> -<span class="smcap">Helen Thorne</span>, <i>his wife</i>.<br /> -<span class="smcap">Laddie</span>, <i>their child</i>. (<i>Between four and five years of age.</i>)<br /> -<span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span>, <i>a patient of the Doctor’s, and a friend of Mrs. Thorne’s, an invalid</i>.<br /> -<span class="smcap">Doctor Gazell</span>, <i>a hospital physician not in harmony with Dr. Thorne</i>.<br /> -<span class="smcap">Dr. Carver</span>, <i>a young surgeon</i>.<br /> -<span class="smcap">Maggie</span>, <i>a maid</i>.<br /> -</p> - -<p>A Priest, Nurses, Patients, Servants, People in the Street, Spirits, the -Angel Azrael.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_1" id="page_1"></a>{1}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="WITHIN_THE_GATES" id="WITHIN_THE_GATES"></a>WITHIN THE GATES</h2> - -<h2><a name="ACT_I_SCENE_I" id="ACT_I_SCENE_I"></a>ACT I., SCENE I.</h2> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>A library in a city house. A dining-room opens beyond a portière. -The dinner-table is set. The library is furnished in red leather -and dark wood. Books run to the ceiling. The carpet is -indeterminate in tone. The heavy curtains are of a rich, dark -crimson. A window is to be seen. The library is littered a little -with the signs of feminine occupation. At one of the tables sits -Mrs. Thorne. She is a young and beautiful woman, of stately -presence and modest, high-bred manner. She is well-dressed—but not -over-dressed—in a tea-gown such as a lady might wear in her own -home when guests are not expected. The dress is cream-white; it -falls open over a crimson skirt. The lamps are shaded with lace of -red or of white. One with a white shade is on the table by which -she sits. Her sewing materials are lying about, among books and -magazines half-cut. She tries to sew upon a little boy’s lace -collar, but throws her work down restlessly. Her face wears a -troubled expression.</p></div> - -<p>(<i>She rises and crosses the room nervously; goes to the window, and -stands<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_2" id="page_2"></a>{2}</span> between the long lace curtains, looking out. She consults her -watch; speaks.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne.</span> It is not so very late! Hardly past six o’clock yet. What -can be the matter with me? I must not become a worrier. A doctor’s wife -can never afford to be that.</p> - -<p class="c"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Maggie</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Maggie.</span> Shall I serve dinner, ma’am?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne.</span> The Doctor has not come, Maggie. We must wait—Jane will be -careful not to burn the soup.</p> - -<p>(<i>Rises and looks again restlessly out of the window; calls</i>:)</p> - -<p>Maggie!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Maggie.</span> Ma’am?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne.</span> When you went up to light the Doctor’s candles, how did -Laddie seem? Did Molly say?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Maggie.</span> Just the same, she said. He does seem sort of miser’ble.</p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Exit</i> <span class="smcap">Maggie</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne.</span> (<i>takes up a magazine and tries, in vain, to read; sighs, -and lays it<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_3" id="page_3"></a>{3}</span> down; takes up the little lace collar and tries to sew; -lays that down; rises</i>). I’ll run up again and look at the child for -myself.</p> - -<p class="c"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Maggie</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Maggie.</span> Mrs. Fayth, ma’am.</p> - -<p><i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> (<i>pale, sweet-faced, delicate, with the languorous -step of the half-cured invalid. She is in carriage dress, with a long, -dove-colored opera cape—rich, but plain in design. She throws off the -cape at once</i>).</p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Exit</i> <span class="smcap">Maggie</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span> (<i>warmly embracing her friend</i>). Why, Mary Fayth! <i>You?</i> At -this time of night!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth.</span> Yes. I—Mary Fayth—isn’t it wonderful? I haven’t been out -after sundown before for six years.... Is the Doctor in?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne.</span> He hasn’t come yet. I am waiting for him. We never can -tell.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth.</span> Doesn’t the dinner get cold?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_4" id="page_4"></a>{4}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne.</span> The dinner is subject to chronic bronchitis and acute -pneumonia.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth.</span> (<i>laughs merrily</i>). Acute pneu-mo-nia is good.... You were -always clever.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne.</span> But I don’t fret. A doctor’s wife can never do that.... -Give me your cape, dear. You’ll wait for him.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth.</span> I did want to surprise him. He would be so pleased. My -husband calls me Doctor Thorne’s miracle. But never mind. I can’t wait -for him. I’m on my way to the Hospital Fair.... Think of that! I’m to be -let stay till half-past eight o’clock. Fred is to meet me there, and -we’re to dine at the café with the crowd and see the tableaux.... Think -of it!—like common, vulgar, healthy people. Isn’t it wonderful? To be -half alive! I have been half dead so long! Kiss me, Helen.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne.</span> (<i>anxiously</i>). I hope you won’t pay for it to-morrow, dear. -(<i>Kisses her affectionately.</i>)<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_5" id="page_5"></a>{5}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> (<i>cheerily</i>). Oh, I expect to be flat to-morrow. But it’s -worth it—to go somewhere with one’s husband ... after six years. I’m -going to the Fifteen Cent Museum next—when I get a little farther -along—some big, noisy, healthy, shabby place. Fred has promised to take -me. He dotes on the gorillas.... Well, I only ran in. The horses are -getting cold. I must go. Give my love to the Doctor—Helen! I’m going to -church when I get well. I want to hear the <i>Te Deum</i>.... It’s a good -while since I did that. They won’t let me. They put it off till the -last. Fred said I must begin with the Hospital Fair and work up through -the gorillas to re-li-gious dis-si-pa-tion. The Doctor says I’m to get -well in a sci-en-ti-fic manner; on the Law of Ev-o-lution. Poor dear -Doctor! He doesn’t care about the <i>Te Deum</i>.—Helen, I wish your husband -believed. He is so good—so kind. He ought to be a re-li-gious man.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span> (<i>sadly, with almost imperceptible bitterness</i>). He is a -doctor.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_6" id="page_6"></a>{6}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth.</span> He is so great, you see. He is almighty to so many miserable -people.... I can understand that. His mind stops there. He is so strong, -so powerful; he works the miracles himself.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne.</span> My husband has no time to study these questions, Mary. All -his life is given up to science, you know. I thought—when we were first -married—I could influence him in these ways. But a doctor’s wife learns -better than that.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth.</span> What he needs is to be half-dead. Then he would <i>have</i> to -believe. He is too much alive, poor Doctor.... It is such a joy to be -alive, Helen! I thought I must run in and tell you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span> (<i>smiling affectionately</i>). I’ll tell him to be sure and see -you to-morrow. You’ll need it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth.</span> Well, Fred can tel-e-phone. I dare say I shall be sick -enough. Good-by, dear—Helen? What ails <i>you</i>? You don’t look right -to-night.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_7" id="page_7"></a>{7}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span> (<i>arousing</i>). Laddie doesn’t seem well at all. I can’t make -Esmerald believe that anything ails him. But that’s the way, you -know.... I am not allowed to be anxious. The mother of a doctor’s child -can never be that.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> (<i>with quick sympathy</i>). Oh, I am so sorry! I know just how -you feel—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne.</span> You never had a child, Mary.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth.</span> But sick people understand everything. Oh, we know!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne.</span> Yes. I suppose you have so much time to think.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth.</span> We have so much time to feel. (<i>Rises to leave.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span> <i>puts the opera cape over her friend’s shoulders</i>.)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> (<i>abruptly</i>). Helen, I was thinking to-day about Cleo. I -don’t often.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span> (<i>pityingly</i>). Poor girl! I do, very often. She must have -led a cruel life with her husband. And she was so<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_8" id="page_8"></a>{8}</span> young when he died! -She really hated him—I think as much after he was dead as when he was -alive.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth.</span> She did not hate yours.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span> (<i>gravely</i>). She was a patient. I have nothing to say.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth.</span> But of course she hardly made a secret of it, that she loved -the Doctor—half wrongly, half rightly.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne.</span> Like the woman she was—half fiend, half angel—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> (<i>interrupting</i>). There are people who still talk about her; -they are equally divided whether she died of love or morphine. It is -said she had the opium habit. It is three years ago to-day that she -killed herself.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne.</span> I had forgotten.... Poor Cleo!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth.</span> I’ve been thinking about her all day—I don’t know why. She -never liked me very well—perhaps because I <i>didn’t</i> love the Doctor; -and so he could do<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_9" id="page_9"></a>{9}</span> so much more for me. You know how those things -go.... And you never gave her the satisfaction of one hour’s jealousy?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span> (<i>peacefully</i>). How could I? I never had the materials.... -But, as you say, these things are complicated. We never know where the -end of the skein is.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth.</span> I will send over to-morrow and see how Laddie is. -Good-night—good-night.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span> (<i>kisses her warmly</i>). I wish you would stay—I wish you -need not go. Don’t go! Mary—<i>don’t go</i>!</p> - -<p class="hang"> -[<i>Exit</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> (<i>slowly, with a sweet,<br /> -mysterious smile</i>).<br /> -</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span> <i>relapses into her anxious attitude and manner. Moves to -the window, and looks out again, between the curtains. While she stands -there with her back to the door, suddenly and noisily striding in.</i>)<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_10" id="page_10"></a>{10}</span></p> - -<p class="c"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>at once</i>). Isn’t dinner ready?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span> (<i>turning delightedly</i>). Oh! At last!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> Well. You might have met me, then.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne.</span> Why, I have been watching for you—and listening—till I’m -half blind and deaf. I have been to the window—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> Don’t complain. I hate a complaining woman.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span> (<i>has advanced towards him, and impulsively put up her arms! -Drops them at this and turns sadly</i>). I did not know I was complaining, -Esmerald.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> Most people don’t know when they are disagreeable. (<i>He does -not offer to kiss her; pulls off his overcoat nervously.</i>) Isn’t dinner -ready? I am starved out.</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Maggie</span> <i>is seen in the dining-room hastily serving dinner</i>.)<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_11" id="page_11"></a>{11}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span> (<i>ringing</i>). Maggie had orders to put it on as soon as she -heard your wheels.... Yes. There! You poor, hungry fellow!</p> - -<p class="c"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Maggie</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Maggie.</span> Dinner is served, Mrs. Thorne.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> I must run up and change my coat, first—no, I won’t. I -haven’t time. I am driven to death. Come along, Helen. (<i>Strides out -before her; then recalls himself from his discourtesy, and steps back.</i> -<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>is a tall, well-built, handsome man, of distinguished -bearing, but with a slight limp; his face is disfigured by a frown, as -he looks at his wife. He repeats</i>) I am driven to death! I haven’t time -to call my soul my own.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span> (<i>archly</i>). I thought you hadn’t any soul, dear. Or I -thought you thought you hadn’t.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>crossly</i>). Soul? Rubbish! It is more than I can do to -manage<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_12" id="page_12"></a>{12}</span> bodies. Soul? Stuff! What have you got for dinner?</p> - -<p>(<i>They seat themselves at the table.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne.</span> You poor boy! You poor, tired, hungry fellow! I hope the -dinner will please you? (<i>Timidly.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>testily</i>). Really, I hadn’t time to come at all. I’ve got -to go again in ten minutes. But I supposed you would worry if I didn’t -show myself. It’s a foolish waste of time. I wish I hadn’t come.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span> (<i>speaking in a low, controlled, articulate voice</i>). You -need not. On my account. <i>You need never come again.</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>irritably</i>). It is easier to come than to know you sit here -making yourself miserable because I don’t.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span> (<i>gently</i>). Have I ever fretted you about coming, Esmerald? -I did not know it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> It would be easier if you did fret. I’d rather you’d say a -thing than<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_13" id="page_13"></a>{13}</span> look it. Any man would.... This soup is burned!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne.</span> Too bad! I gave special orders to Jane—that is really too -bad. Let me send it away.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>excitedly</i>). No, I’ve got to get down something. Bring on -the rest—if there is anything fit to eat. I’m due at the Hospital in -twenty-two minutes. Gazell is behaving like the devil. If I’m not to -handle him, nobody can. The whole staff is afraid of him—everybody but -me. We sha’n’t get the new ward built these two years if he carries the -day to-night. I’ve got a consultation at Decker’s. The old lady is -dying. It’s no use dragging a tired man out there; I can’t do her any -good. But they will have it. I’m at the beck and call of every whim. I -wish I’d had time to change my boots! My feet are wet. My head aches -horribly. I had an enormous office—sixty people; forty here—twenty -down-town—besides my calls. I’ve seen<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_14" id="page_14"></a>{14}</span> eighty sick people to-day. I was -a fool to agree to that noon office hour.—I’ve lost ten thousand -dollars in this panic. Brake telephoned me to get down to Stock Street -to save what I could. I couldn’t get off.... I lost a patient this -morning—that little girl at the Harrohart’s. She was a poor little -scrofulous thing, but they are terribly cut up about it.—I wish you’d -had a good, clear soup. I hate these opaque things.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne.</span> But last time we had consommé, you said—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> I said! I said! Who cares what he <i>says</i>?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span> (<i>in a low voice</i>). That seems to be quite true.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> What did you say? Do speak louder. I hate to hear women -mumble their words.—I hope you have some roast beef; better than the -last. You mustn’t let Parsnip cheat you. Quail? There’s no nourishment -in quail for a man<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_15" id="page_15"></a>{15}</span> in my state— (<i>Pushes away his plate crossly.</i>) -Well, I suppose I’ve got to eat something. I was a fool not to dine at -the club.—The gas leaks. Can’t you have it attended to? Pudding? No. I -see enough of spoon food in sick rooms. I might have eaten a good, -hearty pie.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne.</span> But the last pie we had, you said—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>again</i>). I said! I said! What does it signify what a man -<i>says</i>? How many times must I say that? Hurry up the coffee. I must -swallow it, and go. I’ve got more than ten men could do.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span> (<i>gently, but with perceptible dignity</i>). It seems to be -more than one woman can do—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> What’s that? Do speak so I can hear you.—If you’re going to -speak at all.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne.</span> I said it seems to be more than one woman can do to rest -you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>carelessly</i>). Do ring for a decent cup of coffee. I can’t -drink this.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_16" id="page_16"></a>{16}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne.</span> Esmerald—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>crossly</i>). Oh, what? I can’t stop to talk. There! I’ve -burned my tongue now. If there’s anything I can’t stand, it’s going to a -consultation with a burned tongue.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span> (<i>tenderly</i>). How tired you are, Esmerald! It even gets into -your poor foot.—You limp more to-night. I was only going to say that I -am sorry. I can’t <i>let</i> you go without saying that.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>rising, and walking irritably through the rooms</i>). I can’t -see that that helps it any. I am so tired I don’t want to be touched. -(<i>Mrs. Thorne brings his overcoat. He repulses her.</i>) Never mind my -coat. I’ll put it on myself. Tell Joe—No. I left the horse standing; I -don’t want Joe. I suppose Donna is uneasy by this time. She won’t stand -at night—<i>She’s got to.</i> I’ll get that whim out of her.—Now don’t look -that way! The horse is safe enough.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_17" id="page_17"></a>{17}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne.</span> I haven’t bothered you about the horse, have I? But I don’t -feel—quite—easy. She is such a nervous creature, and so—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>imperiously</i>). Don’t you suppose I know how to drive? -You’re always having opinions of your own against mine. There! I must be -off.—Where’s the boy, Helen? Where’s Laddie?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span> (<i>gently</i>). Laddie isn’t just right, somehow, Esmerald. I -hated to bother you, for you never think it’s anything. Molly is with -him. I’ve been a little troubled about him. He has cried all the -afternoon.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> He cries because you coddle him! It is all nonsense, Helen. -Nothing ails the child. I won’t encourage this sort of thing. I’ll see -him when I come home. I can’t possibly wait—I am driven to death—for -every little whim. (<i>Rushes towards the door, but pauses, irresolute.</i>) -I suppose I shall have to go up—if you’ve<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_18" id="page_18"></a>{18}</span> got this fixed idea in your -head. I’ll take a look at him on the way out.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span> (<i>more gently; without reproach, but regarding him -steadily</i>). Good-by, Esmerald.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> Oh, bother!—I can’t stop for fooling, now.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span> (<i>with sudden change of manner, breaks down, and hides her -face in her arms. She weeps quietly</i>). He has always kissed me -good-by—before—ever since we have been married. He never, never missed -before!</p> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Re-enter</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> (<i>He holds the<br /> -child in his arms, and strides in impetuously,<br /> -still limping; lays</i> <span class="smcap">Laddie</span>,<br /> -<i>wrapped in a silk robe, upon the sofa.<br /> -Tries to make the child sit up; but<br /> -the little fellow languidly falls back<br /> -upon the pillows.</i>)<br /> -</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span> <i>moves quickly over, and supports the child</i>.)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> Helen, I must have an end<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_19" id="page_19"></a>{19}</span> to this nonsense! Nothing ails -Laddie. He is only a trifle feverish, with a little toothache—possibly -there’s a slight cold. The child should be out of the nursery. He will -sleep better for the change. Let him stay awhile—and don’t make a fool -of yourself over him. It really is very unpleasant to me that you make -such a fuss every time he is ailing. If you had married a green grocer, -it might have been pardonable. Pray remember that you have married a -physician who understands his business, and do leave me to manage it.... -There! (<i>Consults his watch.</i>) I’m eight minutes behindhand already, all -for this senseless anxiety of yours. It’s a pity you can’t trust me, -like other men’s wives. I wish I had married a woman with a little -wifely spirit ... or else not married at all.</p> - -<p class="hang"> -[<i>Exit</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> (<i>He does not bid<br /> -his wife good-by. At the threshold of<br /> -the door he seems to hesitate, makes<br /> -as if he would turn back, but goes out.</i>)<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_20" id="page_20"></a>{20}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne.</span> Oh-h-h me! (<i>Utters one long, low cry; she does not speak -any words. She releases her hold of</i> <span class="smcap">Laddie</span>, <i>who drops back sleepily -upon the sofa pillow. She seems to forget the child. She stands still, -in the middle of the library, with her face towards the window; her -hands are crossed before her, and clenched tightly together. A solemn -expression grows upon her face. Her tears dry upon her cheeks. Her eyes -widen and darken. Her mouth quivers pitifully. Still she does not speak. -She moves slowly to the window, and draws the curtains back. She stands -there looking out; she shades her eyes with her hand. The hand -trembles.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Child</span> (<i>cries</i>). Mamma! Mamma!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span> (<i>does not respond to the child. She moans</i>). -Esmerald!—Es—mer—ald!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_21" id="page_21"></a>{21}</span></p> - -<p class="c"> -<span class="smcap">End of Scene I.</span><br /> -</p> - -<h3>SCENE II.</h3> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>A dwelling street in the city, seen in an almost deserted -condition. The time is early evening. The wreck -of a buggy lies crushed against a curbstone; the traces -are broken, the horse having released herself and disappeared. -The wreck lies in shadow, and the prostrate -form of a man is but dimly discerned. After a -few moments of suspense and silence, slowly crawling -to his feet,</p></div> - -<p><i>Arises</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span>. (<i>He is dressed -for driving, as when he left home; his overcoat -disarranged, muddy, and torn; his hat -gone; his face has a singular pallor, and -his whole appearance is agitated. As he -rises, he throws a carriage robe back over -the spot where he had been lying. He -speaks.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> That dastardly brute has -done it, now! I’ll sell Donna for this.—It -will play the mischief with that old -injury. I shall exchange an interesting -limp for crutches, now.—Hil-loa! (<i>Walks -to and fro with perfect ease.</i>) The shock -has acted like a battery on the nerve centres.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_22" id="page_22"></a>{22}</span> -Instead of a broken neck I have a cured leg. -I’m a lucky fellow—as usual. (<i>Laughs -lightly; turns to examine the condition of -the ruined buggy; suddenly looks confused, -and puts his hand to his head.</i>) Curious -cerebral symptoms I have! Queer, there isn’t -a crowd round. They must have missed the -trail when Donna bolted. She’ll be at the -stable by this time.—She won’t go home. -Helen won’t know.... I shouldn’t like to -be the man that had to tell Helen!... I -must get to her—I must get home as soon -as I’ve been to the Hospital. I’m afraid I -was a little short with Helen. I wish— (<i>Presses -both hands to his temples as if to -command himself; looks more and more -bewildered.</i>) I must have been pretty well -stunned—seems to me there was a collision. -I ran down somebody. It was a landau—we -crashed—I saw it overturn—there -were people in it I knew—patients.... -Who?... <i>Who?</i> (<i>Stamps the pavement -peremptorily, and impatiently strikes his<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_23" id="page_23"></a>{23}</span> -own head.</i>) Who was it?—Horrible! The -brain cells do not obey me—<i>me!</i> (<i>Walks -about frenziedly.</i>) ... Ach—ch! It is -worse to remember than to forget. I have -it now—the sweetest woman of them all—Helen’s -friend—the gentlest, the most obedient, -most trustful, the bravest patient I ever -had—Mrs. Fayth. I saw her face as the carriage -went over.... She stretched out her -hands, and said: “Doctor!” It was Mary -Fayth. (<i>His face falls into his hands. -For a moment he sinks down on the wreck of -the buggy; but springs up.</i>) Now that accounts -for it.—The crowd are all there. The -accident was so bad nobody has thought of -me. <i>She</i> is the victim. <i>I</i> have escaped. -Dead or alive, she is done for. She never -could recover from a shock like that. I -must go and find her. I must find Mrs. -Fayth. (<i>Starts and hurriedly walks down -the street, peering everywhere.</i>)</p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Exit</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<p>(<i>In his absence no person passes the street.</i>)<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_24" id="page_24"></a>{24}</span></p> - -<p class="c"> -<i>Re-enter</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<p>Strange! How strange! I cannot find her. I cannot find anything—nor -anybody that a man would naturally meet under such circumstances. Not a -trace of the accident—yet I’m <i>as sure of it as I am that I’m alive</i>. -(<i>Pronounces these words slowly, and paces the sidewalk, irresolute.</i>) -It all came from my being overdue at the Hospital. I suppose I did drive -Donna pretty fast. I wonder if I struck her? I am always in such an -infernal hurry—I never have had time to live. <i>I am driven to death.</i> -(<i>He says the last five words, not impatiently, but with a certain -solemn deliberation.</i>) I must go at once to Mrs. Fayth’s house. They -must have carried Mary there—I wish I could spare time to see -Helen!—I’ll go right home as soon as I’ve been to Fayth’s. Odd! How -these brain symptoms last. I must have had quite a blow. I don’t—I -can’t—it is mortifying to feel so confused.</p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Exit</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_25" id="page_25"></a>{25}</span></p> - -<p>(<i>In his absence the street remains deserted.</i>)</p> - -<p class="c"> -<i>Re-enter</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Enter behind him a tall</i> Woman. (<i>She is<br /> -wrapped in a long ash-colored veil, or<br /> -mantle, beneath which shows a gleaming<br /> -gown of flame-color. She follows</i><br /> -<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>silently. She keeps at a<br /> -distance from him. Her step is a gliding,<br /> -stealthy one. The</i> Woman <i>does<br /> -not speak</i>.)<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> There must be serious cerebral congestion. I cannot find the -street. I cannot find Fayth’s house. What part of this bewitched town am -I in? I have lost my way—I, Esmerald Thorne, with a clientele of twenty -years from end to end of the city—I cannot find my way.</p> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Enter a</i> Suburban, <i>a</i> Loafer, <i>and a</i><br /> -Priest. (<i>The</i> Woman <i>draws her veil,<br /> -and looks solemnly at</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span><br /> -<i>as she passes. Her face is pale and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_26" id="page_26"></a>{26}</span><br /> -wretched, but possesses singular<br /> -beauty.</i>)<br /> -</p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Exit the</i> Woman.<br /> -</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>does not notice the</i> Woman.)</p> - -<p>(<i>The</i> Loafer <i>leans against a post. He stares stupidly at the wreck.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<i>The</i> Priest <i>walks slowly, reciting an Ave</i>.)</p> - -<p>(<i>The</i> Suburban <i>hurries on, making a wide circle to avoid the ruins of -the carriage</i>.)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>addressing the</i> Suburban). Can you tell me?—Here! Hold on -a minute! Man, can’t you answer a civil question? Will you tell me—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Suburban</span> (<i>pays no attention to</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span>, <i>but hurries on. -Consults his watch; speaks.</i>) I shall lose my train!</p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Exit</i> Suburban, <i>running</i>.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>with puzzled impatience, addressing the</i> Loafer). -Here!—You! Why, it’s Jerry! Just tell me, will you, Jerry, where the -accident was, and how much was the lady hurt?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_27" id="page_27"></a>{27}</span></p> - -<p>(<i>The</i> Loafer <i>stares stupidly at</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span>, <i>but makes no answer</i>.)</p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Exit</i> Loafer.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>with trouble on his face, more gently addresses the</i> -Priest, <i>whom he slightly touches on the arm</i>). Sir!—Oh, Father -Sullivan! Look here, Father! I’m ashamed to confess, I have lost my way. -Would you direct me to the house of the well-known merchant, Frederick -Fayth? I am due there on an urgent professional errand, and—I cannot -explain the phenomenon—but I have lost my way!</p> - -<p>(<i>The</i> Priest <i>repeats an Ave under his breath. He looks</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> -<i>full in the face, but does not reply</i>.)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span>. And will you be so kind as to tell me whether you have heard -of a carriage accident down-town—and how much was the lady hurt? Did -you—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Priest</span>(<i>looks blindly over</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne’s</span> <i>head; mutters</i>). Nay—Nay. I -see nothing. (<i>He crosses himself</i>). Ave Sanctissima!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_28" id="page_28"></a>{28}</span> Ora pro nobis! -(<i>He lifts his arms and, with a troubled and confused expression, makes -the sign of the cross in the air over</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span>. <i>Priest passes on.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>gently</i>). Thank you, Father.</p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Exit</i> Priest.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>stands sunken in thought for a few moments; suddenly starts -and knots his hands together, then separates them with the motion of one -blind or of one feeling his way in the dark</i>). I must see Helen! I must -go to Helen!—Helen! <i>Helen!</i></p> - -<p>(<i>Sudden darkness settles. When it passes, the wreck of the buggy is -removed.</i>)</p> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span>. (<i>Walks rapidly and<br /> -perplexedly, still with the manner of a<br /> -man who has lost his way.</i>)<br /> -</p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Exit.</i><br /> -</p> - -<p class="c"> -<i>Re-enter.</i><br /> -</p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Exit.</i><br /> -</p> - -<p class="c"> -<i>Re-enter</i> (<i>speaks</i>).<br /> -</p> - -<p>I must get home. I <i>will</i> get home. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_29" id="page_29"></a>{29}</span> <i>will see</i> Helen! (<i>Stops -sharply, as if smitten by an unseen force; cannot take another step; -contends, as if with an invisible power; droops, as if vanquished; -turns, and retraces his way; his head hangs to his breast. He speaks.</i>) -<i>What</i> thwarts me from my home? <i>Who</i> constrains me from my wife? -(<i>Lifts his face angrily to the sky.</i>) Is this hypnotism? (<i>Laughs -sarcastically.</i>) Am I an infant—or a maniac? It must be anæsthesia -passing off. Perhaps I was etherized by some blank fool after that -shock.—The accident! That is it, of course, of course! It is the -cerebral concussion—a simple case.... I shouldn’t like this to get out. -I believe I’ll go into my office—if I can find my office—and wait till -this passes off. It is a perfectly simple case. (<i>Walks feverishly up -and down the street, searching for his own office; mutters.</i>) Ever since -I yielded to that demand for a noon office hour downtown for business -men—it has crowded me<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_30" id="page_30"></a>{30}</span> without mercy. If they hadn’t been my old -patients, I wouldn’t have succumbed to it. It’s just another strand in -the whiplash that has driven me to death. Well (<i>draws a long -breath</i>)—I seem to be out of sorts to-night. I shall get over all this -nonsense when I see Helen. Helen will set me right. <i>Helen will make a -live man of me again.</i></p> - -<p class="c"> -<span class="smcap">End of Scene II.</span><br /> -</p> - -<h3>SCENE III.</h3> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>The interior of a down-town office. <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> -is seen in the consulting room; the door is closed into -the reception room. One gas-jet burns over the desk; -patient’s chair and physician’s chair are seen in the -usual places; the desk is in order for the night; a -movable telephone, of the kind in use in offices, stands -upon the desk.</p></div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>throws himself heavily -into his revolving chair</i>). What the devil -am I here for? (<i>Violently. The light -grows dim as he says this.</i>) Why in—<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_31" id="page_31"></a>{31}</span>why -in the name of all the laws of Nature -cannot I get home? (<i>After a pause, brokenly.</i>) -Well—well! It’s something to -be here; to get out of the street—in out -of the night—it’s a good deal. I’d begun -to understand how outcasts feel—felons, -apparitions, fugitives. In the name of the -laws of mystery, thank Heaven for so much! -(<i>The light brightens. It reveals his face, -which is haggard and pinched. He pushes -his case books about, aimlessly. Suddenly -his hand hits the receiver of the telephone. -He springs and cries out</i>:) The telephone! -The telephone! I must have gone stark -mad not to think of it.—See! I’m not a -drinking man, am I? (<i>Puts his hand to -his head.</i>) No. I do not drink. Helen -would not like to have me.—No. And -I’ve been all these hours without telephoning -to Helen. She’ll think I did it on purpose—poor -Helen—because of the words -I said. <i>If a man could slay the words he -says....</i> They harry me—like ghosts.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_32" id="page_32"></a>{32}</span> -(<i>Rings the telephone violently.</i>) Central? -48.4—48.4, I say. Why don’t you give -me 48.4? I tell you I’m in a hurry. 48.4! -And be quick with it! (<i>Rings again.</i>) Why -in—why don’t you attend to your business -there? It is Dr. Thorne—Dr. Esmerald -Thorne. My errand is most urgent. Give -me my home, and make short work of it. -48.4! Do you hear? (<i>Rings again.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">A man’s voice from the Exchange</span> -<i>comes faintly over the wire, reverberating -through the transmitter, so as to be audible -at a distance from the instrument</i>.) Why -don’t you speak? We cannot make out a -word you say.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>rings again, wildly</i>). I -tell you I want my home—48.4! I must -speak to my wife. Give me 48.4—Helen? -Helen!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Voice from the telephone.</span> Stop -ringing your bell if you can’t use your -tongue. Put your mouth close to the transmitter. -Are you drunk? Or are you dead?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_33" id="page_33"></a>{33}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>still ringing</i>). I will report -you for this. It shall cost you your -place. 48.4, I say. Give me my house. -I will not submit to this. Give me 48.4!</p> - -<p>(<i>The telephone ceases to reply.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>rises, hangs up the receiver, -and paces the office tempestuously; -speaks</i>). The very forces of Nature are in -league against me.... My own nervous -system—the night—the atmosphere—electricity—they -are all gone foes to me. -They are serried like an army between myself -and her. Helen will be—Helen will -suffer—oh, poor girl!</p> - -<p>(<i>The telephone call bell rings suddenly.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>leaping to the receiver</i>). -Who calls? I am here. Who wants Dr. -Thorne? (<i>He snatches the receiver greedily -to his ear; listens a moment; cries -wildly</i>:) Oh, Helen! Is that you, dear? -Speak louder, darling.... Yes, I’m -here—at my office down-town. I’ll be -home soon. Don’t be frightened—but I<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_34" id="page_34"></a>{34}</span> -met with a trifling accident. Helen? Helen! -What’s the trouble? Don’t you hear me, -Helen?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Woman’s voice from the telephone.</span> -Is my husband there? Esmerald! Are -you there?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span>. Why, Helen! Don’t you -hear me? What does ail this cursed telephone? -Central! Give me a decent wire. -My wife can’t hear a word I say.... -Helen? I’m not at all hurt—only shaken -up a little. I’ll get back just as soon as—<i>Helen? -Helen!</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Woman’s voice from the transmitter.</span> -Central? I cannot find my husband at his -office. Please give me the Hospital.—I -must communicate with my husband.</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Voice from the transmitter</span> <i>dies -away</i>.)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>rings madly</i>). Central, -you’ve cut me off! You’ve cut me off -from my home. Give me 48.4 again. -Helen?—Helen! Can’t you hear me?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_35" id="page_35"></a>{35}</span> -Don’t you understand me, Helen? Oh, I -could hear you—your own dear voice, my -girl! I wanted to tell you—I can’t wait -till I see you to say—Helen? She does -not hear me.—Helen!</p> - -<p>(<i>The transmitter is silent.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>lays the receiver down. He -hides his face in his hands.</i>)</p> - -<p class="c"> -<span class="smcap">End of Scene III.</span><br /> -</p> - -<h3>SCENE IV.</h3> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>Morning in a business street down-town. Many -people are passing, among them the <span class="smcap">Priest</span>, the <span class="smcap">Suburban</span>, -and the <span class="smcap">Loafer</span>. A crowd thickens before -the bulletin boards of “The Earth,” a prominent daily -newspaper. At the extreme left are the headquarters -of “The Universe,” a rival paper. Not far from -“The Earth” building can be seen the modest sign -of the eminent physician:—</p></div> - -<div class="bboxx"> -<p class="c">DR. ESMERALD THORNE.<br /> -<span class="smcap">Office Hour 12-1 o’clock.</span></p> -</div> - -<p>(<i>A door opens within.</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>appears in the entrance to the -corridor</i>.)<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_36" id="page_36"></a>{36}</span></p> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>upon the sidewalk.<br /> -Standing irresolute, he seems to wince<br /> -from the daylight and the morning<br /> -air; he mutters</i>).<br /> -</p> - -<p>Now it is light, I can find my way to Helen. (<i>Steps slowly along the -sidewalk; shades his eyes from the sun. He wears no hat, and his pallor -has increased. No person addresses him.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<i>On the bulletin boards of</i> “The Earth” <i>can be seen the following -announcement</i>:</p> - -<p class="c"> -<span class="smcap">War with the Island of Borneo.<br /> -Borneo Lays Down Her Ultimatum.<br /> -The President has Called for Volunteers.<br /> -Panic in Stock Street.<br /> -Santa Ma Fallen 30 Points Since Yesterday.<br /> -Dissension at the City Hospital.<br /> -Rumors of Accident at the West End.</span>)<br /> -</p> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Gazell</span> (<i>a short, blond, thick-set,<br /> -suave man of middle age</i>) <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Dr.<br /> -Carver</span> (<i>a very young man; the latter<br /> -reading a fresh copy of</i> “The Universe”).<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Gazell</span> (<i>with emotion</i>). Shocking!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_37" id="page_37"></a>{37}</span> Shocking! I cannot express—I am -overcome!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Carver</span> (<i>without emotion</i>). Yes. It is very sad. You’ll be apt to -find these things in “The Universe” before “The Earth” gets them. I -wonder if he—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Gazell.</span> No. Never. He was above reproach. A hard man to get along -with—willful, but above reproach. I am greatly shocked!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>stepping out into the crowd</i>). Ah, Gazell! Good-morning. I -am—I am very glad to see you, Dr. Gazell (<i>pathetically</i>).</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Gazell</span> <i>continues reading his paper. He does not look up.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>with embarrassment</i>). Gazell! (<i>He moves directly in front -of the office of</i> “The Earth.” <i>At that moment a new bulletin flashes in -large letters, over the heads of the crowd, these words</i>:—<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_38" id="page_38"></a>{38}</span></p> - -<p class="c"> -<span class="smcap">Rumor Confirmed.<br /> -Shocking Accident!<br /> -Terrible Tragedy.<br /> -Runaway at the West End.<br /> -Mrs. Frederick Fayth Dangerously Hurt.<br /> -The Eminent and Popular Physician,<br /> -Dr. Esmerald Thorne,<br /> -Killed Instantly.</span>)<br /> -</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>reads, and reels; stares about him appealingly.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<i>Murmurs are heard from the crowd.</i>)</p> - -<p class="c"> -<i>Enter two</i> Office Girls.<br /> -</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">First Office Girl</span> <i>starts, and points to the bulletin</i>.)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Second Office Girl.</span> Oh! Oh! (<i>She bursts into tears.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Suburban.</span> Too bad! He was a clever fellow. He saved my little boy’s life -last summer.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Loafer.</span> He took a t’orn out av me eye onct and divil a cint did he -charrge for ’t.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Priest.</span> Pater Noster in Cœlo—gone without absolution, poor soul! An -attractive heretic—merciful to the poor of my parish.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_39" id="page_39"></a>{39}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Gazell.</span> He drove too fast a horse. And he drove the horse too fast. -I always told him so. But I am greatly agitated by this!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Carver</span> (<i>reading aloud</i>). Now “The Universe” had it already in type: -“Dr. Thorne was dragged for some distance before the horse broke free. -He was found near the buggy, which was a wreck. The robe was over him, -and his face was hidden. Life was extinct when he was discovered, which -was not for an unaccountably long time. His watch had stopped at five -minutes past seven o’clock. He was not immediately identified. By some -unpardonable blunder the body of the distinguished and favorite -physician was taken to the morgue.”</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Gazell.</span> That accounts for it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Carver</span> (<i>reads on</i>). “It was not until nearly midnight that the -mistake was discovered. A message was dispatched to the elegant -residence of the popular doctor.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_40" id="page_40"></a>{40}</span> Mrs. Thorne is a young and beautiful -woman, on whom, with their only child, an infant son, this blow falls -with uncommon cruelty.”</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>utters a long, heartrending moan. But no person hears the -sound. He stretches out his hands. The crowd shrinks from but does not -see him. Staring at the bulletin, he stands apart. He raises his -clenched right hand in the air; speaks</i>). It is a dastardly lie! It is -one of those cursed canards manufactured to harass men—and—break the -hearts of women. God!—She has seen it by this time. Let me pass! Let me -go to her! You may kill <i>her</i> with this, but you can’t kill me. -Gentlemen, make way for me! <i>I am Dr. Thorne!</i></p> - -<p>(<i>The crowd pays no attention to this outcry.</i>)</p> - -<p class="c"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Newsboy</span> (<i>shrilly piping</i>).<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Newsboy.</span> “Earth!” “Universe!” Latest—8.30. All about the accident! Dr. -Thorne killed instantly—Mrs. Fayth still breathin’—“Earth,” sir? Two -cents, sir.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_41" id="page_41"></a>{41}</span></p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>clutches the newsboy by the arm, and would tear the paper -from him</i>. <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne’s</span> <i>fingers grope over it—touch it. He tries -several times to obtain it. The paper remains in the hands of the boy.</i>)</p> - -<p class="c"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Brake</span>, <i>the broker</i>.<br /> -</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>staggers against</i> <span class="smcap">Brake</span>, <i>who is reading</i> “The Universe.”)</p> - -<p>[<i>Exit the</i> Suburban, <i>consulting his watch</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>more gently; addresses the loafer</i>). Jerry! Is that you, -Jerry! Tell these gentlemen, will you, that I am Dr. Thorne? I should -take it—kindly—of you, Jerry.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Loafer</span> (<i>stares; mutters</i>). Divil a cint did he charrge me for ’t.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>addresses the broker</i>). Oh, Brake! I am glad to see you! I -couldn’t get down to save my Santa Ma. But <i>that</i> is of no -consequence.... I’ve been hurt—an accident—and I am confused. I am -suffering from hallucinations. They have<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_42" id="page_42"></a>{42}</span> got beyond my control. I -wonder if you wouldn’t call a cab for me? I thought Dr. Gazell would -take me home in his carriage,—but he didn’t seem to hear me when I -spoke to him. If you’ll call a cab, I’ll get home—to my wife.</p> - -<p class="hang"> -[<i>Exeunt</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Gazell</span>, <span class="smcap">Dr. Carver</span>, <i>and</i><br /> -<span class="smcap">Brake</span>, <i>without replying</i>.<br /> -</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>watches them with a piteous expression; stands back and -apart from the crowd</i>.)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_43" id="page_43"></a>{43}</span></p> - -<p class="c"> -<span class="smcap">End of Act I.</span><br /> -</p> - -<h2><a name="ACT_II" id="ACT_II"></a>ACT II.</h2> - -<h3>SCENE I.</h3> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>A small ward—the women’s ward—in a hospital; -several cots with patients in them are visible. One -patient is in a wheeled chair. Screens stand by the -cots. There are plants, pictures, the cheerful features -of the modern hospital. Two nurses are seen busy -with patients.</p></div> - -<p class="c"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Gazell</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Carver</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Gazell</span> (<i>seats himself by one of the patients; speaks blandly</i>). And -how do we find ourselves to-day?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Patient</span> (<i>turning her face, on which can be seen traces of tears</i>). Bad -enough—worse. I’ve been so upset by—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Gazell</span>. Yes, yes. I know. It is truly shocking!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Carver</span> (<i>addressing one of the nurses</i>). You become your cap to-day. -You<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_44" id="page_44"></a>{44}</span> have an uncommonly good color—I mean to operate on No. 21.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> Do you really? We thought her improving. She’s nervous to-day—on -account of Dr. Thorne.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Carver.</span> Yes. Thorne had things all his own way here, as usual. I -mean to operate,—if Dr. Gazell can manage her.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nurse</span> (<i>coquettishly</i>). You are so expert,—such an easy surgeon. You -don’t mind it more than a layman would carving a Christmas <i>goo</i>—oose. -And what would you operate for—on No. 21?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Carver.</span> Appendicitis, of course.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nurse.</span> Really? You are so clever on diagnosis. Now, I hadn’t thought of -appendicitis—in her case. Do you know—I thought it more like pleurisy?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Carver</span> (<i>looks keenly at the nurse to discover if she is making game -of him; speaks pompously</i>). The nurse, as you have been taught in your -training-school,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_45" id="page_45"></a>{45}</span> can have no opinions. Now, the physician—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nurse</span> (<i>demurely</i>). Oh, of course. I wouldn’t have you think I’m -presuming to set up mine. She might have measles, or the grippe, for -anything <i>I</i> should know.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Carver.</span> Now you speak very properly indeed.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Gazell</span> (<i>at bedside of No. 21</i>). Is the pain more severe on the -right?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Patient.</span> I didn’t say I had any pain—now.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Gazell</span> (<i>soothingly</i>). Increasing toward night? Paroxysms? Or is it -steady?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Patient.</span> I said I’d got over the pain. That has all gone. It is the -weakness—the deadly weakness.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Gazell.</span> Just so. That weakness is a most significant symptom—I -think you said it was accompanied by nausea?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Patient.</span> No, I didn’t. Not a bit.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Gazell.</span> Just so. Dr. Carver? Here a moment? (<i>To the patient.</i>) <span class="pagenum"><a name="page_46" id="page_46"></a>{46}</span>I’m -sure we can relieve all that. Just a little operation—a very pretty -little operation—would set you right again in a week or two.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Carver</span> (<i>coming to the cotside of No. 21; speaks eagerly</i>). It is -such a beautiful operation! Why, I’ve known patients <i>beg</i> for it,—it -is so beautiful.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Patient</span> (<i>beginning to cry</i>). Dr. Thorne said there was no need of -anything of the kind.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Gazell</span> (<i>stiffening</i>). Dr. Thorne was an able man—but eccentric. -His professional colleagues did not always agree with him.</p> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span>. (<i>He has wasted since<br /> -his last appearance; looks outcast,<br /> -wan, and wretched; is splashed with<br /> -mud; still hatless; stands at the<br /> -lower end of the ward, gazing blindly<br /> -about.</i>)<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Patient No. 21.</span> Dr. Thorne used to say that if we had better doctors, we -shouldn’t need so many surgeons. He said the true<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_47" id="page_47"></a>{47}</span> treatment would -prevent half the surgery in the city.</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>starts, and moves towards the patient</i>.)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Gazell</span> (<i>soothingly</i>). Yes. Just so. Dr. Thorne had great confidence -in himself.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Patient</span> (<i>rousing</i>). No more than his patients had in him.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Carver.</span> Irritable! Very irritable! A significant symptom, Dr. -Gazell. In my opinion, this extreme irritability <i>demands</i> an operation -for appendicitis.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">First Nurse</span> (<i>listening, laughs; addresses</i> <span class="smcap">Second Nurse</span>). Now, if one -could only apply that! Take a cross man,—any cross man,—say a brother, -or a husband, or even a doctor, and if he carried it too far, just call -on Dr. Carver. Why, it would revolutionize society. And he is so expert! -He doesn’t mind it any more than carving a <i>goo</i>—oose. Yes, sir! I’m -coming. (<i>Demurely obedient; hurries to</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Gazell</span>.)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Second Nurse</span> <i>moves to the rear of the ward to a patient behind a -screen</i>.)<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_48" id="page_48"></a>{48}</span></p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>advances slowly; stands in the middle of the ward, -unnoticed</i>.)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Patient No. 21</span> (<i>louder</i>). I say, when a man’s dead is the time to speak -for him. And I’ll stand up for my dear dead doctor as long as I live.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Voice from another cot.</span> And so would I,—and longer, if I got the -chance.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Another voice.</span> He doesn’t need anybody to stand up for him. His deeds do -follow him. And he rests from his labors.</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>smiles bitterly; stands with his face towards the speaker. -He knots his hands in front of him, and thus advances with a motion so -slow as to be almost stealthy.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Voice from another cot.</span> He wouldn’t care so much for that. It’s Bible. -He was not a religious man. But he was as <i>kind to me</i>! (<i>Weeps.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Other voices.</span> And to me! Oh, yes, and to me,—as <i>kind</i>!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Patient in the wheeled chair.</span> I<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_49" id="page_49"></a>{49}</span> couldn’t move in my bed when I came -here. I’d been so three years. Look what he’s done for <i>me</i>. (<i>Sobs.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>in a low tone</i>). Miss Jessie? Don’t cry so. You’ll make -yourself worse. Go back to bed, Jessie, and—see. I’ll tell you a -secret. Don’t tell the others just yet. I wasn’t killed, Jessie. That -was a newspaper canard. <i>I’m a live man yet.</i> See! Look up, Jessie. Look -at me,—can’t you? (<i>Pleads.</i>) Won’t you, Jessie?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Patient in the wheeled chair</span> (<i>stares past him at</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Gazell</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. -Carver</span>). And to think of the likes of them,—in his place! What ever’ll -become of this hospital without <i>him</i>?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>with trembling lip</i>). You don’t hear me, do you, Jessie? -Well—well. I must have met with some cerebral shock affecting the -organs of speech. It is a clear case of aphasia. I can’t make myself -understood. It—it’s hard. Jessie? (<i>Louder.</i>) I can’t see things go -wrong with<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_50" id="page_50"></a>{50}</span> <i>you</i>,—no matter how it is with me. You’ve been in that -chair long enough for to-day. (<i>Imperiously.</i>) Jessie, go back to bed! -Stop crying about me, and go back to your bed.</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Jessie</span> <i>wavers; shades her eyes with her hands; stares about her; -slowly turns her wheeled chair and moves away</i>.)</p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Exit</i> <span class="smcap">Jessie</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>moves more naturally and rapidly; stands by the cot of No. -21; speaks</i>). Good-morning, Mrs. True. I meant to have seen you last -night. I was—unavoidably detained. I hope you’re not worse this -morning?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Patient</span> (<i>with tears</i>). I’ve cried half the night.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> That’s a pity. But you won’t cry any more. I’ll take care of -you now.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Patient</span> (<i>looks up wearily; turns her face on her pillow and sobs</i>).</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> Clearly aphasia. She does not understand a word I say. Dr. -Gazell! Gazell! Dr. Carver?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_51" id="page_51"></a>{51}</span></p> - -<p>(<i>The two physicians murmur together.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> Gazell? What’s that? The knife? For Mrs. True? Excuse me, -but I cannot permit it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Carver.</span> It would be such a pretty little operation. The students are -getting restless for something. I told them—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Gazell.</span> It is well-defined appendicitis.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> Well-defined appendi—fiddlesticks! It is nothing but -pleurisy. I tell you, Gazell, I will not have it!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Gazell</span> (<i>looks around uncomfortably; speaks with hesitation</i>). Of -course, Thorne would not have agreed with us.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>grips</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Gazell</span> <i>by the arm</i>). I tell you it would be -butchery, Gazell! What are you thinking of? <i>Gazell!</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Gazell.</span> But he was a very opinionated man,—everybody knew that.</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>drops</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Gazell’s</span> <i>arm and walks away with a gesture of -distress</i>.)<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_52" id="page_52"></a>{52}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Second Nurse</span> (<i>to</i> <span class="smcap">First Nurse</span>; <i>moves out from behind the screen</i>). -Very invigorating day!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">First Nurse</span> (<i>to</i> <span class="smcap">Second Nurse</span>). Father Sullivan’s late with the -Sacrament. I hope Norah, yonder, won’t get ahead of him. She’s ’most -gone. (<i>Approaching the cot of the patient behind the screen.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Second Nurse</span> (<i>moves away</i>). Yes. She’s been unconscious half an hour.</p> - -<p><i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Priest</span>. (<i>He advances to offer Extreme Unction to the dying -patient.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">First Nurse.</span> Lovely morning, Father.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>standing in the middle of the ward</i>). They used to call my -name when I came in. “Oh, there’s the doctor!” “The doctor’s come!” It -ran from cot to cot—like light. And everybody used to smile. Seems to -me some of them blessed me. Now—</p> - -<p>(<i>Sobs from the ward.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>tremulously</i>). My patients! Isn’t there <i>one</i> of you who -knows me?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_53" id="page_53"></a>{53}</span> Doesn’t <i>any</i>body hear me? Don’t cry so! All the symptoms -will be worse for it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The dying patient.</span> Doctor? Doctor?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> That sounds like Norah.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Priest</span> (<i>recites behind the screen at</i> <span class="smcap">Norah’s</span> <i>bedside the prayer for -the passing soul</i>). “Proficiscere, anima Christiana, de hoc mundo, in -nomine Dei Patris omnipotentis, qui te creavit; in nomine Jesu Christi -Filii Dei vivi, qui pro te passus est; in nomine Spiritus Sancti”—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>softly</i>). Thank you, Father. (<i>Stands silently with bowed -head.</i>)</p> - -<p class="c"> -<i>Reënter the patient in the wheeled chair.</i><br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Jessie</span> (<i>happily</i>). I’ve had such a lovely dream! I thought Dr. Thorne -was here—in this ward. Oh! (<i>With disappointment.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> Jessie!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Jessie</span> (<i>sadly</i>). It was such a lovely dream! (<i>Droops and turns away.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>walks apart; stands drearily, with downcast eyes</i>.)</p> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span>. (<i>She looks pale and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_54" id="page_54"></a>{54}</span><br /> -agitated, but quite happy. She is<br /> -dressed as before, for the street, but<br /> -her head is bare; is wrapped from<br /> -head to foot in her long, pale, dove-colored<br /> -opera cape. She goes straight<br /> -to</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span>, <i>and touches him upon<br /> -the arm; speaks softly</i>.)<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth.</span> Doctor?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>starts</i>). Oh! Mary Fayth! You? (<i>He grasps her hand with -pathetic eagerness.</i>) Oh, I never was so glad! You are the first -person—the only one—nobody else seemed to know me. I might have known -<i>you</i> would. Where’s Helen? Isn’t she with you? And you weren’t hurt at -all, were you? I have been—anxious about you. Those cowardly papers -said—I tried to get right over and see you. And, after all, you’re not -hurt. I thank— (<i>Looks around confusedly.</i>) Ah, what shall I thank?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Priest.</span> Christum Dominum nostrum. Amen.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_55" id="page_55"></a>{55}</span></p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>listens with troubled interest, like a child learning a -hard lesson</i>.)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> (<i>smiling</i>). I can only stay a minute. I must get back to my -poor Fred.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> Don’t leave me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth.</span> Oh, poor doctor! Don’t you <i>see</i>? The carriage overturned. I -was badly hurt. I only died an hour ago.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>gasps, and stares at</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span>. <i>He tries to speak, but -can only articulate</i>). You died an hour ago? And I? And <i>I</i>?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> (<i>still smiling, with her sweet, mysterious smile</i>). Don’t -take it so hard, doctor. I came to ex-plain it to you. Why, it’s the -most beautiful thing in the world! (<i>Glides away slowly, but smiling to -the last.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>throws up his arms in anguish</i>). I am dead! My God! <i>I am a -dead man!</i><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_56" id="page_56"></a>{56}</span></p> - -<p>(<i>His face falls into his hands, his whole body collapses slowly, he -drops.</i>)</p> - -<p class="c"> -<span class="smcap">End of Scene I.</span><br /> -</p> - -<h3>SCENE II.</h3> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>It is night on a street in the West End of the city. -At the right stands a church, dimly lighted for a choir -to practice. An anthem on the organ can be heard. -At the left appears Dr. Thorne’s house, viewed from -the outside. It has high stone steps, and lights are -in the window. One window on the ground floor has -the curtain raised. The interior of the library can be -seen through the window,—glimpses of the books, the -pictures, the table, the lamp with the white lace shade. -The room is empty. Into it—</p></div> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span>. (<i>She is dressed in<br /> -deep black. Her face is drawn with<br /> -grief. Her hands are clasped in front<br /> -of her. She paces the room drearily.<br /> -She is alone. She seats herself by the<br /> -table; tries to read; lays the book<br /> -down, and rises; paces the room.</i>)<br /> -</p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Exit</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_57" id="page_57"></a>{57}</span></p> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>at the far end of the<br /> -street near the church. (He is dressed<br /> -as before. He is still pale. His manner<br /> -has increased in agitation, but a<br /> -new resolution gives more firmness to<br /> -his wasted countenance. He speaks,<br /> -meditatively.</i>)<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> After all, there <i>is</i> another life. I really did not think -it. (<i>Stops and passes his hand over his eyes; muses.</i>) God knows—if -there is a God—how it is with me. If I have never done anything, or -been anything, or felt anything that was fit to <i>last</i>, I have loved one -woman, and her only—and thought high thoughts for her, and felt great -emotions for her, and I could forget myself for her sake—and I would -have had joy to suffer for her, and I’ve been a better man for love of -her. And I have loved her,—oh, I have so loved her that ten thousand -deaths could not murder that living love! (<i>Falters.</i>) And I spoke to -her—I said to her—like any low and<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_58" id="page_58"></a>{58}</span> brutal fellow, any common -wife-tormentor—I went from her dear presence to <i>this</i>. (<i>Brokenly.</i>) -... And here there is neither speech nor language. Neither earth nor -heaven, nor my love ... nor my shame ... can give my famished eyes the -sight of her dear face,—nor my sealed lips the power to say, Forgive!</p> - -<p>(<i>The organ can be heard from the church.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>without noticing the anthem</i>). I will not bear it. No—no. -I <i>will</i> not! I <i>will</i> go to her! (<i>Starts to rush up the street, whose -familiar precincts he seems for the first time to recognize.</i>) Why, -there is my own house! She can’t be two rods away. I wonder if a dead -man can get into his own home? <i>Helen?</i> (<i>His feet lag heavily; he moves -like one who is wading in water. He makes the motions of one who -withstands a strong blast or an invisible force. He is beaten back. -Suddenly he raves.</i>) You are playing with me!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_59" id="page_59"></a>{59}</span> You torture a miserable -man. Who and what are you? Show me what I have to fight, and let me -wrestle for my liberty! Though I am a ghost, let me wrestle like a man! -Let me to my wife! Give way and let me seek her! (<i>Slowly recedes, as if -beaten back; bows his head. The man sobs.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Choir from the church</span> (<i>chant</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“God is a Spirit.<br /></span> -<span class="i1">God is a Spirit.<br /></span> -<span class="i1">And they that worship Him”—<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>(<i>Choir breaks off. The organ sounds on.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>seems to listen, but with a kind of anger. He slowly -recedes, as if pushed back.</i>)</p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Exit</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Enter the</i> Veiled Woman. (<i>She stands<br /> -mutely and wretchedly. Watches the<br /> -house. Wrings her hands, but makes<br /> -no sound.</i>)<br /> -<br /> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span>. (<i>Within the house;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_60" id="page_60"></a>{60}</span><br /> -can be seen plainly from the street<br /> -through the window. She advances<br /> -and draws the shade still higher;<br /> -stands close to the window, pressing<br /> -her hands against the sides of her<br /> -eyes; looks out.</i>)<br /> -</p> - -<p>(<i>The</i> Veiled Woman <i>shrinks at the sight of</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span>.)</p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Exit the</i> Woman.<br /> -</p> - -<p><i>Reënter</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>at the other end of the street</i>. (<i>He speaks -shrewdly.</i>) It is nearer at this end. And perhaps, if I didn’t have to -get by that church— (<i>Hurries up opposite the house. Suddenly he sees -her.</i>) Oh, there’s Helen! God! It is my wife. I—see—my—wife. -(<i>Brokenly.</i>) Dear Helen! (<i>Pushes toward the house. At the foot of his -own steps he falters and falls, still as if beaten back. He struggles as -a man would struggle for his life. The veins stand out on his face and -on his clinched hands. He cries out.</i>) I’m coming, Helen! It is only I, -my girl.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_61" id="page_61"></a>{61}</span> Don’t be frightened, dear! I wonder would she be afraid of me? -Perhaps it would shock her. Live people and dead people don’t seem to -understand each other. But I’ll risk it. Helen would go alone and lie -down alive in a grave at midnight, and never look over her shoulder—if -she thought she could see <i>me</i>. I know Helen. I’ll try again. (<i>He -pushes and urges his way onward. But the invisible Power restrains him, -as before. He stretches his arms towards the lighted window.</i>) Here I -am, Helen! I can’t get any farther, somehow.... Come and open the door -for me, my girl,—the way you used to do. Won’t you, Helen? With the boy -in your arms? Perhaps if <i>you</i> opened the door,—I could get in. I ... -(<i>After a silence.</i>) I won’t stay very long. I won’t trouble you any, -Helen. I know I don’t belong there any more. I won’t intrude. -(<i>Wistfully.</i>) Helen! I was cruel to you. I have been ashamed of myself. -I thought if I could get in long<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_62" id="page_62"></a>{62}</span> enough to say— (<i>Reflects.</i>) Mary -Fayth went back to see <i>Fred</i>. Nothing prevented her—</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span> <i>throws open the window. Leans out and looks about.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Maggie</span> <i>is seen moving about the lighted room</i>.)</p> - -<p>(<i>People in the street pass.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span> <i>hastily shuts the window</i>.)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>piteously</i>). Helen!</p> - -<p>(<i>The organ sounds from the church.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>turns suddenly, as if turning on an antagonist</i>). What art -Thou that dost withstand me? I am a dead and helpless man. <i>What</i> -wouldst Thou with me? <i>Where</i> gainest Thou thy force upon me? Art Thou -verily that ancient Myth that men were wont to call Almighty God? (<i>He -lifts his face to the sky; holds up his hands as if he held up a -question or an argument.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Choir from the church</span>:—</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“God is a Spirit.<br /></span> -<span class="i1">God is a Spirit.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_63" id="page_63"></a>{63}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i1">They that worship Him<br /></span> -<span class="i1">Must worship Him in Spirit”—<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Maggie</span> (<i>opens the door. The lighted hall is seen behind</i>). There’s -nobody here, Mrs. Thorne.</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span>, <i>wearing a slight, white shawl which falls from her as she -moves, comes to the open door; motions</i> <span class="smcap">Maggie</span> <i>away</i>.)</p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Exit</i> <span class="smcap">Maggie</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span> (<i>softly</i>). Esmerald? He might be out there in the dark. Who -knows what spirits do? Esmerald? Would God that I had died for you! Oh, -my dear!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> <i>Helen!</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne.</span> If he were there he would answer me if it cost him his -living soul.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> Helen, I answer you, for I <i>am</i> a living soul. <i>Helen!</i> (<i>He -struggles mightily; crawls up the steps, reaches with the tips of his -fingers the fringe of her white shawl, which has fallen down the steps, -and lies there unnoticed.</i>) Helen, look down!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_64" id="page_64"></a>{64}</span> <i>Down.</i> (<i>He clutches the -white fringe to his lips. He kisses it wildly.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span> <i>lifts her face to the sky</i>.)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span>. I can’t get any higher,—not any nearer, dear.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Thorne</span>. There is no one here. (<i>Weeping.</i>) There is nothing here. -(<i>She shuts the door slowly and reluctantly; remembers the shawl, which -she draws in with her.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>clings to the shawl in vain. Moaning, he kisses the -doorsteps of his own home where the garment had touched them.</i>)</p> - -<p class="c"> -<span class="smcap">End of Scene II.</span><br /> -</p> - -<h3>SCENE III.</h3> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>A narrow defile or pass between high mountains. -The light is dim. The pass winds irregularly, and is -often rough, but is always upwards. The scenery is -unearthly. No sign of life is to be seen. A distant -storm can be heard.</p></div> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>slowly, holding a<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_65" id="page_65"></a>{65}</span><br /> -staff; he is robed in purple, a flowing<br /> -garment, not unlike a talith or a toga.<br /> -His face, still pale, is heavily lined;<br /> -but more with anxiety than with resentment;<br /> -its expression is somewhat<br /> -softer. He speaks</i>).<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> I wonder what is to be done with me next? I see no -particular reason for climbing these mountains. There seems to be -nothing for a dead man to do but to obey orders. Well (<i>candidly</i>), I’ve -given my share of them in my time. I suppose it’s fair enough to turn -about and take a few—now. (<i>He smiles. After a pause, climbing -slowly.</i>) I must say I can’t call this an attractive country—so far. -Its main features are not genial.</p> - -<p>(<i>The storm increases; there is thunder and cloud.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>looking about</i>). It seems to be in the cyclonic belt. -There’s a storm of some sort,—I should say two of them fighting up in -these hills. Hear them close<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_66" id="page_66"></a>{66}</span> and clinch! Like a man’s two natures; -civil war all the time. And no truce! (<i>Muses.</i>) It’s not a social -region, certainly. I don’t know that I recall, really, ever being in a -place that was so desolate. There isn’t so much as a wild animal, nor a -bird flying over. It reminds me of—what was it? I can’t recall the -words. It seems to me my mother taught them to me when I was a little -lad. But they have quite gone. Beautiful literature in that old Book! -It’s a good while since I’ve dipped into it. I’ve had too much to do. -What was it?</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Though I walk—When I walk”—<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>(<i>He breaks off; climbs stoutly. The storm darkens down. For the first -time</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne’s</span> <i>face expresses something like alarm. He looks about -like a man who would call for help, but is too proud to do so. He -speaks.</i>)</p> - -<p>This is really growing serious. I wish I could remember those words. Now -I think<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_67" id="page_67"></a>{67}</span> of it, we were on our knees. A most unnatural posture! My -mother was a sweet saint,—rest her pure spirit! (<i>It lightens as he -says this.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Voices from beyond</span> (<i>softly chanting</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“And when I’m lost in deep despair<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Be thou with me....<br /></span> -<span class="i1">Until life’s daylight ended be,<br /></span> -<span class="i1">Be thou with me, with me.”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>lifts his head to listen</i>). There’s a good musical taste in -this country, at all events. That’s something. What were those words? -Ah, I have it.</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow<br /></span> -<span class="i5">Thou shalt be with me.”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>It went in some such way. (<i>Repeats perplexedly.</i>)</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“<i>Thou</i> shalt be with me?”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>(<i>Sadly.</i>) A beautiful superstition.</p> - -<p>(<i>The storm comes on heavily, with darkness and lightning. Through the -gloom his solitary form can be seen manfully<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_68" id="page_68"></a>{68}</span> climbing. He exhibits no -panic, but his evident bewilderment grows upon him. He mutters.</i>)</p> - -<p>The desolation of desolations! I shall be glad when I get out of it. -What solitude! Of all the people I have known—dead or living—there is -not one to stay by me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Voices from beyond.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Be Thou near him!”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Enter, on the pass above him, a young<br /> -girl repeating prayers on a rosary.<br /> -She is a plain, unattractive girl, folded<br /> -in a dull gray gown that wraps her<br /> -loosely. Her face is earnest and devout.</i><br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> Why, Norah!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Norah</span> (<i>looking back</i>). Oh, it is the Doctor.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> I can’t overtake you, Norah.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Norah.</span> And I’ve only died the day.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> But you’ve got the start<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_69" id="page_69"></a>{69}</span> of me, Norah. You are higher up. I -am glad to see you, Norah (<i>eagerly</i>). But I can’t reach you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Norah</span> (<i>holds down her hand</i>). Come up, Doctor! Come up! I’ll help you, -Doctor.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>gratefully</i>). Thank you, Norah.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Norah.</span> It’s to Purrgatory I’d be goin’. But you’re the herretic, Doctor. -Which way do you be goin’?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>shakes his head</i>). I don’t know, Norah. You are wiser than -I am—in this foreign place.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Norah</span> (<i>holds down her hand</i>). The dear Doctor! Ye were that kind to me, -Doctor,—at the hospital, and forninst the house where I was worrkin’. -It’s niver a cint I had to pay yez for yer thruble. If I’d been a pretty -lady with a purrse of gold, ye never could have put yerself about more -than ye did for the likes of me. It’s not meself that would have died -the day if<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_70" id="page_70"></a>{70}</span> <i>you’d</i> been there. Doctor? Would yez mind, if I -should—bless you, Doctor? There’s kindness onto kindness, and mercy -goin’ after mercy that ye did me, all hidin’ in a poor girrl’s heart to -rise and meet you here. I was sick an’ ye did visit me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>melting</i>). When did I ever show you all that kindness, -Norah? I don’t remember—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Norah.</span> And I don’t forget. Take my hand, now, Doctor, do. It must be -lonesome down below there by yersel’. (<i>Touches her rosary. Her lips -move in prayer.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>climbing on, grasps</i> <span class="smcap">Norah’s</span> <i>hand</i>). Thank you, Norah -(<i>gently</i>).</p> - -<p>(<i>There is a lull in the storm. It grows lighter.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>and the Irish girl climb on together silently</i>.)</p> - -<p>(<i>It brightens at the brow of the mountain. Dim outlines of figures are -faintly seen at the summit. They waver, and melt away.</i>)<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_71" id="page_71"></a>{71}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>gradually loosening his hold of</i> <span class="smcap">Norah’s</span> <i>hand, speaks, but -not to</i> <span class="smcap">Norah</span>, <i>bitterly</i>). Now stop a moment. Where will all this end? -Rebelling, I obey; and obeying, I rebel. I am become what we used to -call a spirit. And this is what it means! Better might one become a -molecule, for those at least express the Laws of the Universe, and do -not suffer. I don’t incline to go any higher. (<i>Drops back.</i>) Every step -is taking me further away from my wife.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Norah</span> (<i>anxiously</i>). Doctor? Doctor! (<i>She climbs on, but looks back, -beckoning.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>pays no attention to</i> <span class="smcap">Norah</span>. <i>Retraces his steps down the -narrow path</i>). Come what may, I <i>will</i> not go any further from Helen. -I’ll perish first, in this unearthly place. (<i>He continues to descend; -stands lost in thought. The storm darkens round him, but lightens beyond -him. At the summit dim outlines can be seen again. These brighten -faintly.</i>)<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_72" id="page_72"></a>{72}</span></p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Norah</span> <i>reaches her arms towards them; climbs on</i>.)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> It was something to be in the same world with Helen. -(<i>Muses.</i>) Oh, hot in my anger I went from her. And cold, indeed, did I -return. (<i>Still descending.</i>) I will go back. I will get as near the old -system of things as I can. I will not put another span of space between -myself and Helen. Poor, poor girl!</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span>, <i>doggedly descending, does not look up</i>.)</p> - -<p>(<i>White-robed forms at the summit brighten. Arms are stretched downwards -through a mist. Hands beckon. One of them reaches down and clasps</i> -<span class="smcap">Norah’s</span> <i>hand; draws her up</i>.)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Norah</span> (<i>looking back</i>). Doctor!</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Norah</span> <i>vanishes</i>.)</p> - -<p>(<i>The pass grows dark. Figures at the summit dim.</i>)</p> - -<p class="hang"> -(<i>Enter, from a darkness in the mountains,<br /> -the</i> Woman <i>in flame-color. Her ashen<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_73" id="page_73"></a>{73}</span><br /> -mantle is now thrown back, but still<br /> -clings to her. She stands mournfully<br /> -regarding</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span>. <i>She does not<br /> -address him, but slowly extends her<br /> -arms.</i>)<br /> -</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>does not observe the</i> Woman. <i>She does not obtrude herself -upon his attention.</i>)</p> - -<p class="hang"> -[<i>Exit the</i> Woman <i>into the darkness<br /> -whence she came</i>.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>with frowning face descends; he murmurs</i>). And a few days -ago I was troubled because I had lost a few thousand <i>dollars</i> in Santa -Ma.... I saved up <i>money</i>! (<i>Scornfully.</i>) I would accumulate a -<i>fortune</i>. Oh, the whole of it, ten hundred thousand-fold the whole of -it, for one hour in a dead man’s desolated home! (<i>Pushes downwards, -suddenly and silently.</i>)</p> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Azrael, Angel of Death</span>. (<i>The<br /> -pass blackens. The mountain summit<br /> -is wrapped in darkness.</i>)<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_74" id="page_74"></a>{74}</span></p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Azrael</span> <i>stands tall and resplendent. He is a white-robed figure, winged -and powerful. The light falls only upon</i> <span class="smcap">Azrael</span> <i>and upon the man. It -can be seen that this gleam comes from a sword held in the hand of the -Angel. Without a word he lifts the flaming sword, and with it bars the -narrow pass from side to side.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>in a ringing voice</i>). Azrael!</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Azrael</span> <i>does not reply</i>.)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>under his breath</i>). Azrael, Angel of Death! (<i>Falls back.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<i>The two figures confront each other in silence.</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> -<i>desperately flings himself towards the Angel. Without a touch he is -beaten back.</i> <span class="smcap">Azrael</span> <i>stands immovable. His face grows solemn with -pity.</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>retreats; advances again; raises his staff, and -strikes it upon the Angel’s sword. The staff flames up, burns, and drops -to ashes on the ground.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>recedes a few steps; shades<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_75" id="page_75"></a>{75}</span> his eyes with his hands; -regards the Angel blindly; wavers, turns. Slowly, with bent figure, he -weakly reascends the mountain; stumbles and falls; regains his footing; -climbs on alone, and now without his staff; does not look back.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Azrael</span> <i>stands immovable, with drawn sword</i>.)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Voices from beyond</span> (<i>sing so softly that they seem rather to be -breathing than singing</i>):—</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“The night is dark, and I am far from home,<br /></span> -<span class="i5">Lead Thou me on ...<br /></span> -<span class="i1">O’er moor and fen, o’er crag and torrent, till<br /></span> -<span class="i5">The night is gone,<br /></span> -<span class="i1">And with the morn those angel faces smile,<br /></span> -<span class="i1">Which I have loved long since, and lost a while.”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>(<i>As they sing the summit mellows slowly. No figures appear. At the brow -of the mountain a single gleam of light pierces the gloom. It brightens -rather than broadens. It has the color of dawn.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Azrael</span> <i>fades away, the sword vanishing last</i>.)<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_76" id="page_76"></a>{76}</span></p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>climbs up, with eyes lifted towards the light on the -summit, which strikes his face and figure</i>.)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">As the Voices sing</span>:—</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“And with the morn those angel faces smile,<br /></span> -<span class="i1">Which I have loved long since, and lost a while.”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_77" id="page_77"></a>{77}</span></p> - -<p class="c"> -<span class="smcap">End of Act II.</span><br /> -</p> - -<h2><a name="ACT_III" id="ACT_III"></a>ACT III.</h2> - -<h3>SCENE I.</h3> - -<div class="blockquot"><p><i>Paradise</i>: A beautiful country. Trees, flowers, -shrubs, vines of great luxuriance abound. Brilliant -birds of unfamiliar plumage can be heard singing in -the boughs. They dip, blazing, through the air. The -grass is bright, and like short fur in effect. The -sheen of water, like the surface of a lake or sea, glimmers -beyond. Sails of faint, fair tints, move and -melt upon the sea. At a distance, upon a hill, are -outlines of graceful architecture. A narrow brook -can be seen, with strange shells upon its little banks. -There are no highways visible. Foot-worn walks and -paths, trodden through the grass, intersperse the -landscape. The grass, however, springs afresh beneath -the foot, and is not crushed or sear. Annunciation -lilies and scarlet passion-flowers grow in the -foreground. Bluebells, in clusters, spring beyond. -Roses are many. Flowers unknown to the botanies -of earth are frequent; and among those to which we -are used, it will be noticed that the blossoms of the -tropics and of the North countries flourish side by -side. The whole impression is one of delight and -beauty. The sky has a misty softness, and the atmosphere -is capable of taking on (and takes on) sudden<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_78" id="page_78"></a>{78}</span> -and subtle changes of effect. It is now seen to be -early morning, and all the tints of the landscape are -tender and fresh.</p> - -<p>The scene is populous with <i>bright beings</i>. These -are seen to differ from the people of this planet chiefly -in their joyousness of manner, and in a certain high -expression, of which it might be said, in a word, that -the absence of low motive, and the presence of a sense -of ease and security, are the predominant features. -These beings wear flowing robes of various tints—dove, -rose, blue, corn, violet, silver, gold, and pearl. -Here and there one appears garbed in the color of the -pale leaf, and, in moving among the foliage, seems -to have sprung from it. Many spirits are clothed in -shining white. Happy conversation and gentle laughter -can be heard.</p></div> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Enter</i> Two Children. <i>These play in the<br /> -brook, and gather the shells. They are<br /> -robed in short, childish garments—a<br /> -little frock, a little dress, both white,<br /> -and each clasped by a small, golden<br /> -cross.</i><br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">First Child</span> (<i>a boy, four or five years old</i>). I never saw such pretty -shells in that other place we lived. They took me to the seaside -summers, but there weren’t any there that began to be so pretty.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_79" id="page_79"></a>{79}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Second Child</span> (<i>a girl</i>). <i>I</i> never played with <i>any</i> shells before. We -lived in a street. It was dark and dirty. I never saw the sea till I -came here.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">First Child.</span> I never saw you in that other place, did I?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Second Child.</span> No. You wouldn’t have played with me there.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">First Child.</span> I like you here—don’t I?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Second Child.</span> And I like you. I like you best of anybody I’ve seen in -this pretty country.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">First Child.</span> Do you like roses? Or don’t you care for anything but -shells?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Second Child</span> (<i>adoringly</i>). I like roses, if you like roses.</p> - -<p>(<i>They leave the brook, and gather roses, pelting each other with them, -and laughing merrily.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">First Child</span> <i>tosses a rose over the brook</i>.)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Second Child</span> <i>picks a bluebell, and puts it to her lips</i>.)<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_80" id="page_80"></a>{80}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">First Child.</span> No. They’re not to eat. They’re to listen to. See! I’ll -ring mine. Hark! (<i>He rings the bluebell. It gives out a musical -tintinnabulation.</i>) Now, you hark again. I never heard a bluebell ring -in that other place, did you?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Second Child.</span> I never saw one on our street.... Oh, <i>mine</i> rings, -too!... Say! Are these angels? I never saw an angel either, in our -street.</p> - -<p>(The Children <i>wander away and mingle with the groups of spirits. They -ring the bluebells as they go. The tintinnabulation is drowned in -orchestral music, which can be heard from a distance. The theme is from -Beethoven’s Seventh Symphony. Certain of the spirits listen attentively, -and move towards the music. Certain others continue to talk happily, and -stir among the trees.</i>)</p> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span>. (<i>Walks slowly and<br /> -alone. He is robed still in purple,<br /> -with a tunic of white showing at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_81" id="page_81"></a>{81}</span><br /> -throat. He looks pallid and harassed.<br /> -He stands for a time apart,<br /> -keenly observant of the scene and of<br /> -the people, then sinks in thought. He<br /> -speaks.</i>)<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> Children here, too?</p> - -<p>(<i>He looks wistfully at the two children, who are playing together at a -distance from him. He picks up the rose which the little boy had tossed -over the brook; puts it to his face; speaks.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> What a perfume the flowers have in this country! This seems -to be a rose, yet it is not a rose. You might call it the soul of a -rose. Exquisite, whatever it is. Some one has dropped this one. There is -personality clinging to it. Curious! It is as though I clasped a little -hand when I touch it.</p> - -<p>(<i>He sighs; walks to and fro thoughtfully; does not throw away the rose, -but cherishes it. Groups of spirits pass and repass. Some of them smile -at him kindly,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_82" id="page_82"></a>{82}</span> but he does not return the smile. No one addresses -him.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> I have done my share of traveling in my day, but I must say -I never was in a land that seems to me so foreign as this. Nothing looks -natural. I seem to have no acquaintances. Apparently nobody knows me. I -have no introductions. I am afraid I have got here without letters of -credit. (<i>Breaks off.</i>) That was a mistake. I never did such an ignorant -thing before. I must say it is an attractive country, too. Everything -shows a high degree of civilization, and the beauty of the place is -unsurpassed. But it does not appeal to me. (<i>He shakes his head.</i>) ... I -am too homesick.... If Helen were here, I could enjoy it.</p> - -<p>(<i>He strolls about without aim or interest. Happy spirits pass and -repass.</i>)</p> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Enter a man-spirit of impressive and<br /> -commanding appearance. His costume<br /> -bears a certain vague resemblance<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_83" id="page_83"></a>{83}</span><br /> -to the dress of a gentleman and scholar<br /> -of the Court of Charles I. of England.<br /> -A cloak of the tint of the dead<br /> -oak-leaf is clasped across his breast<br /> -by a golden cross. He regards</i> <span class="smcap">Dr.<br /> -Thorne</span> <i>with a piercing but kindly<br /> -look. He speaks with a fine and<br /> -courtly manner, dating from a bygone<br /> -age.</i><br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Man-Spirit.</span> I read thee for a stranger here.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>bitterly</i>). A stranger in a strange place am I, indeed. You -are the first inhabitant of this country who has troubled himself to -speak to me. Thank you for your politeness, sir.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Man-Spirit.</span> I was commanded. These (<i>waving his hand toward the -groups of spirits</i>) were not.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> You look like a person more fitted to give commands than to -receive them. I fail to understand that word—<i>commanded</i>. I am—at -least, I was—<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_84" id="page_84"></a>{84}</span>a sovereign citizen of America. I was not born or trained -a subject.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Man-Spirit</span> (<i>smiling</i>). And I was subject of an English -sovereign—in fact, an officer of the royal court.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>without smiling</i>). And this nation? Is it an autocratic -monarchy you have here? What <i>is</i> your political system?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Man-Spirit.</span> It is a simple one—a pure theocracy.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>indifferently</i>). Oh, theocracy? That is a system into which -I have never studied. I have been a busy man. I was a -physician— (<i>Abruptly.</i>) Would you favor me with your name?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Man-Spirit.</span> I was a healer of the sick in my time. My name -was— (<i>Whispers his name.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>starts with pleased surprise</i>). The great <i>Harvey</i>? And -<i>you</i> discovered the circulation of the blood? How wonderful! Why, I -thought you had<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_85" id="page_85"></a>{85}</span> been mould and clover these two hundred and fifty -years! It never occurred to me that you were alive.... What an -extraordinary fact!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Harvey</span> (<i>turns away wearily</i>). I did not think to find your education so -limited. I understood you to be a man of superior powers.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>humbly</i>). Don’t leave me, Doctor Harvey! I am the most -unhappy man in this most happy country.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Harvey</span> (<i>slowly</i>). Then you did not bring with you the materials of -happiness. What had you? What <i>were</i> your possessions in the life -yonder?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>solemnly, but still bitterly</i>). Love, happiness, home, -health, prosperity, fame, wealth, ambition. None of them did I bring -with me. I have lost them all upon the way.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Harvey.</span> Was there by chance nothing else?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> Nothing more, unless you count a little incidental -usefulness.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_86" id="page_86"></a>{86}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Harvey.</span> Plainly, you are not in a normal condition.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>hastily</i>). I am perfectly well.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Harvey.</span> You are sick of soul. You are not in health of spirit. You are -out of harmony with your atmosphere. Do you wish me to take the case?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> Take the case, Doctor Harvey. Cure me of my nostalgia. Show -me how to become a citizen of this foreign land.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Harvey.</span> You know what it means to be a patient.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>grimly</i>). I can think of no worse fate; but I’ll make the -best of it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Harvey</span> (<i>smiling kindly</i>). I will undertake the case. At evening inquire -your way to my dwelling. (<i>Moves away; returns; hesitates; lingers; -speaks impulsively.</i>) Concerning the latest attainments in science on -the planet Earth—they have the keenest interest for me. You have so<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_87" id="page_87"></a>{87}</span> -many advantages—facilities that we never had. (<i>He sighs wistfully.</i>) I -am told that your therapeutics are really wonderful. And the advances in -surgery? Did you find them as beautiful as they are said to be?</p> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Enter a newly arrived woman-spirit. She<br /> -is still pale, but has a happy expression.<br /> -She recognizes</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span>;<br /> -<i>cries eagerly</i>.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Woman-Spirit.</span> Doctor! Doctor Thorne!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Harvey.</span> Here comes some of your incidental usefulness. That is a good -symptom. (<i>He moves away, still smiling.</i>)</p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Exit</i> <span class="smcap">Harvey</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> Why, Mrs. True! (<i>Grasps her hand joyfully.</i>) You are the -first person I have seen—the first one I knew! But (<i>reflecting</i>) what -has happened to you? How did you get here?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. True.</span> I died yesterday.... I knew I should see you, Doctor. -(<i>Calmly.</i>) I counted on that.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>starting back</i>). Did they<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_88" id="page_88"></a>{88}</span>—you don’t mean to say they -really operated on you? You were convalescent!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. True</span> (<i>laughing outright</i>). Yes, in a week after you were killed. -Dr. Carver vivisected guinea-pigs all that week to keep in practice. I -died under the knife.... I wish you’d seen their faces!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>eagerly</i>). What did they find—anything to justify the -butchery?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. True.</span> Of course not. Didn’t you say there wasn’t?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>gratefully</i>). You always were a loyal patient—better than -I deserved.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. True.</span> You always were a kind doctor—better than I deserved.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> And they slaughtered you in my hospital!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. True</span> (<i>hurrying on</i>). Have you seen my husband? Do you know where -my mother is? I lost a baby twenty years ago. I want to see the little -thing. And oh? when can I see—?</p> - -<p>(<i>She breaks off, with a devout expression,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_89" id="page_89"></a>{89}</span> and moves away; joins the -upper group of spirits. Two of these can be seen to meet and embrace -her, and lead her on.</i>)</p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Vanish</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. True</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Jerry</span>, <i>the loafer, hurriedly and<br /> -stumbling. His robe is of dull blue,<br /> -something in the fashion of a smock-frock,<br /> -or butcher’s blouse.</i><br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Jerry</span> (<i>staring about him stupidly, and with a kind of social -embarrassment, as if he had been suddenly introduced into a -drawing-room</i>). Div-niver a cint in me pocket, and me hoofin’ it in this -quaer counthree. (<i>Scratches his head, and mutters unintelligibly.</i>) ... -I wondher where the ... sinsible saints I’m at.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>steps forward; speaks</i>). Why, Jerry! How are you, Jerry? -(<i>Holds out his hand heartily.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Jerry</span> (<i>staring</i>). Sinsible saints, and silly sinners! Doctor Thorne?... -Why, I thought you was dead. Hilloa, Doctor! (<i>Grasps the doctor’s hand, -and shakes it<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_90" id="page_90"></a>{90}</span> violently. Then meditatively.</i>) Ye took a t’orn out av me -eye onct, and div-niver a cint did ye charrge for ’t.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> What are you doing here, Jerry? How did you get here?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Jerry.</span> I was knocked down by a blame bicycle underneat’ a murdherin’ -trolley car. Nixt I know I don’t know nothin’, an’ now, behold me, I’m -let loose loafin’ in this quaer counthree.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> Not drunk, were you, Jerry?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Jerry</span> (<i>shaking his head gravely</i>). I shwore off, Doctor. I shwore off -t’ree years ago. Me little gurrl she give me no repose till I shwore -off.... She died jist av the hospittle, did me little gurrl.... Say, -Doctor, do ye know what’s the thramp laws in this counthree?</p> - -<p class="c"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Norah</span> <i>hastily</i>.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Norah.</span> Doctor—Doctor Thorne? Have you seen—oh, there he is! There’s me -father! Why, Father, Father dear! (<i>Caresses</i> <span class="smcap">Jerry</span> <i>affectionately</i>.)<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_91" id="page_91"></a>{91}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Jerry.</span> Och! wisha, wisha! Norah, me darlint! (<i>Returns her caresses -tenderly.</i>) What luck for the likes of us arrivin’ emigrants thegither -in this agra-able counthree!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Norah</span> (<i>puts her arm in his</i>). Come yonder wid me, Father. (<i>Draws him -away.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Jerry</span> (<i>looks back over his shoulder at</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span>). Is it to -confession we do be goin’, Norah?—the wan av us arrivin’ be way of a -murdherin’ doctor, and the wan be way av a murdherin’ trolley! I’m -thinkin’, sir, it’s niver a cint to choose bechune.</p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Exeunt</i> <span class="smcap">Jerry</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Norah</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>watches their departure drearily; turns, and walks feebly -towards the brook; speaks</i>). Now I think of it, I have not tasted food -or drink since I have been in this place. I believe I am downright -faint.</p> - -<p>(<i>Drinks water from the brook in the palm of his hand; sinks beneath the -low boughs of a tree on thick moss. His head<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_92" id="page_92"></a>{92}</span> falls upon his arm. From a -distance, and from a height, slowly moving downwards, over the beautiful -landscape, robed in cream white, and unseen by</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span>,</p> - -<p class="c"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<p><i>As she approaches, it can be seen that her robe also is clasped across -the breast by a little golden cross.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Spirits beyond</span> (<i>softly chant the Te Deum</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“We praise Thee, O God: we acknowledge Thee to be<br /></span> -<span class="i3">the Lord”—<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>(<i>Midway of the landscape, and playing merrily</i>,)</p> - -<p class="c"> -<i>Enter the</i> Two Children.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">First Child</span> (<i>running to</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span>). Oh, here I am! (<i>He clasps her -hand; clings to her affectionately.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> (<i>to</i> Second Child). Run yonder and play, Maidie.</p> - -<p>(Second Child <i>obeys prettily, and joins the spirits above</i>. <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> -<i>and the</i> First Child <i>move slowly to the front of the landscape</i>.)<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_93" id="page_93"></a>{93}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Child.</span> See that poor man under the tree! I think he’s a hungry -man—don’t you?</p> - -<p>(<i>He breaks away from</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span>, <i>and runs to</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span>; <i>examines -the exhausted man attentively, bending forward with his hands on his -little knees</i>. <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> <i>advances slowly, with her mysterious smile; -she does not speak</i>.)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Child</span> (<i>touches</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>timidly; after a silence speaks, -ceremoniously</i>). Would you like a peach, or do you like plums instead? -I’ll pick you one.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>arousing</i>). Who spoke to me? Oh, it is a child. (<i>Sinks -back feebly.</i>)</p> - -<p>(The Child <i>gathers some fruit from the trees, and brings water from the -brook in the cup of an annunciation lily, which holds the liquid -perfectly; offers the food and drink to the exhausted man</i>. <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span>, -<i>still unseen by</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span>, <i>stands quite near, nodding and smiling -at</i> The Child.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_94" id="page_94"></a>{94}</span> The Child <i>looks to her for encouragement and -direction</i>.)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>reviving</i>). Thank you, my little man. (<i>Leans on his elbow, -and gazes steadfastly at</i> The Child; <i>rises to a sitting posture</i>.)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Child</span> (<i>creeps nearer to</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span>, <i>and, after a moment’s -hesitation, throws his little length full on the moss at the man’s feet, -and scrutinizes him seriously, putting his chin into his hand as he does -so; speaks sympathetically</i>). Do you feel better now?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> Much better. You’re a thoughtful little fellow.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Child.</span> Our breakfasts grow all cooked here. This is a nice country.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>still gazing steadfastly at</i> The Child). Where is your -mother, my lad?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Child.</span> I don’t know. I lost her on the way, somewhere.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> And your father? What has become of your father?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_95" id="page_95"></a>{95}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Child.</span> Oh, <i>he’s</i> dead. He got dead before I came here.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> (<i>moves within</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne’s</span> <i>range of vision</i>; <i>speaks -quietly</i>). Good-morning, Doctor. (<i>Smiles brightly.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>springs to his feet; cries out</i>). Mary Fayth! I thought you -had forgotten me! I have—needed you.</p> - -<p>(The Child <i>rises; leans up against</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne’s</span> <i>knee confidingly</i>.)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth.</span> I have often needed <i>you</i>, Doctor. And you never failed me -once.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>impetuously</i>). I thought you would have come before. I -looked for you—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth.</span> As I have often looked for <i>you</i>. But I was not commanded to -meet you—till this very minute.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> Commanded? Commanded? There is that singular phrase again. -Have you seen Helen? (<i>Quickly.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> (<i>shakes her head</i>). Not yet.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> Have you seen your husband? Did they let <i>you</i> go to -<i>Fred</i>?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_96" id="page_96"></a>{96}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> (<i>contentedly</i>). Oh, many times.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Child</span> (<i>interrupting</i>). He doesn’t kiss me! (<i>Puts up his lips in a -grieved, babyish fashion.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> (<i>very quietly</i>). Doctor, don’t hurt that child’s feelings. -He’s yours.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>gasping</i>). I don’t understand you!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth.</span> I have had the care of him since he came here. He’s kept me -busy, I can tell you. I am to give him over to you now.... See how he’s -grown! No wonder you didn’t know him.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>in great agitation</i>). Did Laddie <i>die</i>?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> (<i>solemnly</i>). Yes, Laddie died.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> Did something really ail him that night—that most miserable -night?... Oh, poor Helen! Poor, poor Helen! (<i>His face falls into his -hands. His frame shakes with soundless, tearless sobs.</i>)<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_97" id="page_97"></a>{97}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Laddie</span> (<i>creeps into his lap; lays his head on his father’s neck</i>). -Hilloa, Papa! (<i>Pats his father on the cheek.</i>)</p> - -<p>[<i>Exit</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> <i>silently, with emotion</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>raises his head, showing his stormy face. Clasps the child, -hesitatingly at first, then passionately; holds him off at arm’s length; -scans him closely; draws him back; kisses his little hands, then his -face; clasps him again</i>). My little son! Papa’s little boy! My son! My -little son! (<i>Smiles naturally for the first time since he died; then -with sudden recollection, he cries out.</i>) Oh, what will your poor mother -do without you?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Laddie.</span> You homesick, Papa?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> My little son! (<i>Caresses the child with a touching -timidity, broken by bursts of wild affection. The child responds warmly, -laughing for joy.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_98" id="page_98"></a>{98}</span></p> - -<p class="c"> -<span class="smcap">End of Scene I.</span><br /> -</p> - -<h3>SCENE II.</h3> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>Dull daylight falls upon a wide and desolate expanse. -This has the appearance of a desert—unbroken and -arid. The horizon is low and heavy with cloud, and -is defined by a tossing sea-line against which no sail -appears. In the distance are cliffs, fissured by dark -cuts, but these are far away, and the foreground is -flat like sand or ashes, or it might be corrugated like -slag. There is no vegetation visible, and no sign of -organized life.</p></div> - -<p><i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span>. (<i>He paces the sands, -mournfully gazing about him at the -lonely scenery. He murmurs, then -raises his voice rhythmically, like one -who quotes from an uncertain memory.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“A life as hollow as the echo in a cave<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hid in the heart of an unpeopled world.”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>Where did I get that? Oh, I remember. I had not thought of it for years. -That woman used to quote it to me. She was the most consistent infidel I -ever knew. She shied at nothing; took the consequences,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_99" id="page_99"></a>{99}</span> both living and -dying.... A shocking death, though! I suppose the boy is all right with -Mrs. Fayth and that little chum of his. If it hadn’t been for that -discussion with Harvey I shouldn’t have left him. Wishing seems to be -doing, in this singular state of existence. A man makes a simple -astronomical inquiry about a planet, and forthwith he is in the planet. -Remarkable! (<i>Breaks off; continues.</i>) How magnificent Helen was about -that affair. If she had doubted me—but she never did. She was superb.</p> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Enter an</i> <span class="smcap">Evil Spirit</span>. <i>Her garments<br /> -are of flame color. Her hair has the<br /> -same tint. On her forehead blazes a<br /> -single scarlet star. Her appearance<br /> -is queenly and confident. As she reveals<br /> -her face, it is seen to be that of<br /> -the woman whose wraith has followed</i><br /> -<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>at intervals ever since<br /> -the hour of his death. Her robe,<br /> -which is opaque, reveals her bare<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_100" id="page_100"></a>{100}</span><br /> -arms and feet, but covers her shoulders<br /> -and bosom with a certain modesty,<br /> -which is felt at once to be not<br /> -wholly natural to the woman. Each<br /> -footprint that she makes upon the<br /> -sand is marked by a small jet of<br /> -flame, which flares after she has<br /> -passed, and dies down quickly.</i> <span class="smcap">Dr.<br /> -Thorne</span> <i>stares at the woman in evident<br /> -and not well-pleased perplexity</i>.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Woman</span> (<i>speaks</i>). So? Am I forgotten on first principles? It is some -years since we had the pleasure of meeting.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>coldly</i>). I begin to recognize you, Madam.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cleo.</span> You did not know it, but I have given you several other -opportunities to do so since you died.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> I should think that quite possible—and characteristic.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cleo</span> (<i>wincing</i>). Your tongue has not lost its edge! I’m afraid they -have not made a hopeful convert of you in yonder<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_101" id="page_101"></a>{101}</span> pious country.... -Confess, you’re bored past endurance with the whole thing? (<i>She draws a -little nearer to him, but is so adroit as not to touch him. She gives -him only her eyes, and these embrace him outright.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>regarding her steadily</i>). Did I ever choose <i>you</i> for a -confidante? (<i>He steps back.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cleo</span> (<i>persistently</i>). Come, don’t be cross! Tell me, then, why have you -fled the first circles of celestial society—to mope out here alone? Oh, -you can’t deceive me. <i>I</i> understand—I always understood you better -than any other woman living. (<i>In a low tone.</i>) Your whole nature is in -antagonism with the very basis of existence in the state you’re plunged -into. What’s death? Nothing but a footstep. You’ve taken it. But you’re -the man you were.... Pouf! <i>That’s</i> death. (<i>Snaps her fingers.</i>) I’d -wager a waltz and a kiss that you are <i>ennuyé</i> to madness over -there....<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_102" id="page_102"></a>{102}</span> Admit it? (<i>Tenderly.</i>) Admit it! (<i>Imperiously.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>uneasily</i>). I don’t profess to be thoroughly acclimated. -But I assure you I did not come here to sulk. On the contrary, I was -absorbingly interested in a scientific discussion with a distinguished -man. It was an astronomical point. I came here to verify it. I return at -once. (<i>Moves away.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cleo.</span> Don’t be in such a blatant hurry! It’s not polite. (<i>Pouting.</i>) -I’ve studied a little astronomy myself of late.... Come! I can converse -about planets—if you will. Was it Neptune or Venus you undertook to -investigate?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>not without interest</i>). I contended that it was -Neptune—before I came.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cleo.</span> And now?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>gloomily gazing at her</i>). I am inclined to think it is -Venus.</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Cleo</span> <i>laughs softly</i>.)<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_103" id="page_103"></a>{103}</span></p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>does not smile</i>.)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cleo</span> (<i>abruptly</i>). Esmerald Thorne, do you know what has happened? You -are in an uninhabited world—with me. You are in a dead world, burnt to -ashes, burnt to slag and lava by its own fires. You are alone in -it—<i>alone with me.... (In a changed voice.) And I meant you should be.</i> -Oh, I’ve dreamed of this for years. I’ve held my breath for it, perished -for it.... Now, here we are—we two outcasts from the religious idea—we -who always rebelled against it, by the very bone and tissue of our -being.... We two (<i>tenderly</i>) <i>alone, at last</i>. (<i>She advances towards -him, and for the first time touches him, gently laying her hand upon his -shoulder.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>not rudely, but positively, removes her hand, stepping back -quickly, so that her arm falls heavily by her side</i>). Woman! Woman, what -are you? A spirit damned, or a spirit deluded?... I confess<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_104" id="page_104"></a>{104}</span> I never -knew. And I don’t know any better now.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cleo</span> (<i>more modestly lifts his hand to her cheek; speaks gently</i>). Do -you know any better now?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>withdrawing his hand</i>). My wife always said you were half -angel, half the other thing. She pitied you, I think. I confess I never -did, very much.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cleo</span> (<i>wretchedly</i>). I never asked for the pity of Helen Thorne!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>firmly</i>). You might well receive it, Madam. It would not -harm you any.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cleo</span> (<i>suddenly</i>). Oh, everybody knew you were an irreproachable -husband. A blameless physician, of course. But we have changed all that. -You are quite free now—as free as I am, for that matter....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>nobly</i>). Yes; I am free, as you say. I am free to mourn my -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_105" id="page_105"></a>{105}</span>wife, and love her ... and await her presence ... which has a value to -me that I do not ... I cannot discuss—with <i>you</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cleo</span> (<i>rebuffed, but gentle and sad</i>). I beg your pardon, Dr. Thorne.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>takes a few steps nearer her</i>). And I yours ... if I have -wronged you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cleo</span> (<i>softly</i>). You feel so sure of her, then? Helen is so attractive! -These spiritual women always are—up to a certain point.... Life is a -long wait, brutally tedious. You know as well as I do how many—Now, -there is Dr. Gazell. A very consolable widower.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>proudly</i>). Oh, that was a blunt stroke. <i>Gazell?</i> If Gazell -were a dog by which my wife might track her way to me through the -mystery of death ... she might have some use for him ... hardly -otherwise. I gave you credit for some wit, Cleo.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cleo.</span> I own the illustration was defective. But there are a plenty -better. There are gentler men than you. For my part, I don’t mind your -attacks of the devil. I<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_106" id="page_106"></a>{106}</span> never did. I’d take your cruelty to have your -tenderness—any day. But Mrs. Thorne is sensitive to kindness. She likes -the even disposition, the patient, model man. After all, there are a -good many of them.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>lifting his head</i>). I am not afraid.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cleo</span> (<i>turning away</i>). And you? She is a young woman. It may be -years....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>coldly</i>). You will have to excuse me. I left some one.... I -may be missed. I have ties which even you would respect, Madam. I must -return whence I came. (<i>He moves away.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Cleo</span> <i>hides her face in her hands; is heard to weep</i>.)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>steps back</i>). Do you want my pity?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cleo</span> (<i>murmurs</i>). Alone—in a desert world—we two—at last. Oh, you -don’t know the alphabet of happiness! You have everything to learn ... -from me. And we shall never be like this again!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_107" id="page_107"></a>{107}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>frankly</i>). I hope not.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cleo</span> (<i>suddenly starting, paces the ashes; throws her arms above her -head</i>). I always said you had a Nero in you.... Oh, I understood -you—<i>I</i>! But <i>you</i>.... It never occurred to you, I suppose, that you -died on my very day? I had been dead three years that night.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>more gently</i>). What did you do it for, Cleo? You know I -warned you about that habit. You know I took the laudanum away from you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cleo.</span> But you could not cork up the Limited Express—could you?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> It was a dreadful death! Tell me, how do you fare? Where do -you live? Do you suffer? What is your lot?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cleo</span> (<i>with sudden reserve, and not without dignity</i>) We suicides have -our own fate. We bear it. We do not reveal it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>uncomfortably</i>). Well—I must bid you good-morning.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cleo</span> (<i>savagely</i>). At least, I gained something<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_108" id="page_108"></a>{108}</span>—if I lose all. Of -course, it never dawned on you that this was all my scheme?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>in dismay</i>). <i>Your scheme?</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cleo</span> (<i>past control, raves</i>). Oh, I had watched my chance for years. I -knew <i>you</i>—your mad moods, your black temper.... Yourself slew -yourself, Esmerald Thorne. Your own weakness gave me my opportunity. I -waited for my moment. I sat in the buggy beside you.... I sometimes did -that when your evil had you. (I couldn’t get there when you were good, -you know.) I tried to take the reins. <i>I tried to get the whip</i>—I could -not do it. <i>I meant to hit the horse</i>—my arm was held. (There are -always so many of these holy busybodies about—angels and messengers of -sanctity—to interfere with one!) Oh, then I sprang out—over the wheel -into the street. You didn’t see me, <i>but Donna did</i>. When she shied I -clung to her bit. And then she bolted.... It was a very simple thing.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_109" id="page_109"></a>{109}</span></p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>recoiling slowly, an expression of cold horror chills his -features</i>.)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cleo</span> (<i>still raving</i>). Yes, I’ve murdered you—if you will—and Mary -Fayth besides. And I’ve broken Helen’s heart. Do you suppose that -counts? Who counts? Nobody on earth, or in heaven, or in hell. <i>I’ve got -you away from your wife....</i> And in earth, or in heaven, or in hell, -I’ll have you yet....</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>throwing out his hands; holds her off with evidences of -unbearable repulsion; speaks with difficulty</i>). And I pitied you a -moment since. Now I cannot scorn you. It is too fine a word.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cleo</span> (<i>more calmly</i>). I can abide my time.</p> - -<p class="c"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Laddie</span>, <i>running rapidly</i>.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Laddie.</span> Papa, Papa! Oh, I missed you, Papa!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cleo</span> (<i>starting</i>). I did not know the child was dead! (<i>Looks -disconcerted.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>catches the child, and holds<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_110" id="page_110"></a>{110}</span> him to his heart; speaks</i>). -No. You only knew you left him fatherless. (<i>With much agitation, -continues.</i>) How did you get here, Laddie? How did you find the way? -Papa hadn’t forgotten his little boy. I was coming right back to you, my -son.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Laddie</span> (<i>mysteriously; looking about</i>). A man with wings brought me. We -flowed over.... He is waiting out there to take us back. (<i>Observing</i> -<span class="smcap">Cleo</span>, <span class="smcap">Laddie</span> <i>slips down to the ground, and backs up against his -father’s knees; points at the woman</i>.) Papa, I don’t like that lady.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>cruelly</i>). My son, I cannot deny that I respect your taste. -(<i>Clasps the boy to his heart again; then puts him down once more, and, -with a fine motion, holds the child at arm’s-length between himself and -the woman.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cleo</span> (<i>averting her face</i>). I perceive the importance of the obstacle. I -admit ... that to love a man who is the father of another woman’s -child—<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_111" id="page_111"></a>{111}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>interrupting</i>). And who loves the mother of his child—</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Cleo</span> <i>sobs</i>.)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> Come, Laddie. (<i>He does not glance at the woman again.</i>)</p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Exeunt</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Laddie</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cleo</span> (<i>yearning after him; stretches out her arms, but does not follow; -calls mournfully</i>). Oh, if you would come back a minute—only a -minute!... In heaven, or earth, or hell, I’d never ask <i>any</i>thing of you -again. A minute, a <i>minute</i>!</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>does not return, and does not reply</i>. <span class="smcap">Cleo</span> <i>is left alone -in the dead world. She falls flat upon the slag and ashes.</i>)</p> - -<p class="c"> -<span class="smcap">End of Scene II.</span><br /> -</p> - -<h3>SCENE III.</h3> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>Picturesquely visible among the trees of a grove -appears a small, rustic cottage, curiously interwoven -of bark, vines, boughs, leaves, and flowers—a building -which seems to have grown from the conditions -and the colors of the grove. The sea and the sails<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_112" id="page_112"></a>{112}</span> -show beyond, through the trees. In the distant perspective -can be seen the city on the hill; in the intervale, -the foliage, flowers, fields, as before.</p> - -<p>The hour approaches sunset. A deep rich glow -mellows and melts the outlines of every object.</p></div> - -<p>(<i>Spirits pass and repass in the distance.</i>)</p> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Harvey</span>, <i>conversing<br /> -in low tones</i>.<br /> -</p> - -<p class="c"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Norah</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Jerry</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Jerry.</span> The brim of the avenin’ to yez, Doctor! Och! but this is a foine -counthree now.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Norah</span> (<i>happily</i>). Me father is getting acquainted here.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Jerry.</span> I’m about to discover where the ... angels ... I’m at.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>smiling</i>). You’ve got ahead of me then, Jerry.</p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Exeunt</i> <span class="smcap">Norah</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Jerry</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>to</i> <span class="smcap">Harvey</span>). And why, for instance, was I directed or -allowed to take that astronomical tour before I had investigated my -immediate surroundings?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Harvey.</span> A patient may <i>ask</i> questions.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_113" id="page_113"></a>{113}</span> In your experience, did you -always answer them?</p> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Laddie</span> (<i>running after his father,<br /> -whose hand he hurries to catch and<br /> -clasp</i>).<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>pointing to the architecture beyond</i>). And those public -buildings yonder—what do you call them?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Harvey.</span> Those are our institutions of education and of mercy. They are a -great pleasure to us. We have our temples, colleges, music halls, -libraries, schools of science, hospitals, galleries of art, as a matter -of course. What did you <i>suppose</i> we did with our intellects and our -leisure?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> I never supposed anything on the subject. I never thought -about it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Harvey.</span> Precisely. You are very ignorant—for a man of your gifts. Now, -our hospitals—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> Pray do not mock me, Doctor Harvey. If you <i>had</i> a hospital, -you could find me something to do. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_114" id="page_114"></a>{114}</span> humiliating idleness of this -place crushes me. I seem to be of no more use here than a paralytic -patient was in my own charity ward at home. I am become of no more -social importance than the janitor or the steward used to be. I am of no -consequence. I am not in demand. No person desires my services. The -canker of idleness eats upon me. Here, in this world of spirits, I am an -unscientific, useless fellow. If you have anything whatever in the shape -of a hospital, I beg you to find me employment in it. At least, I could -keep the temperature charts, if I am not to be trusted with any cases.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Harvey</span> (<i>smiling sadly</i>). Your cure proceeds but slowly, my patient. I -did not think you were a <i>dull</i> man. Must you be taught the elements? -Our sick are not of the body, but are sick of soul. Our patients are -chiefly from among the newly arrived who are at odds with the spirit of -the place; hence, they suffer discomfort. Can <i>you</i> administer holiness -to a will and heart diseased?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_115" id="page_115"></a>{115}</span></p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>shakes his head; bows it in bitter silence. He stands lost -in thought. As he does so, sunset deepens to twilight on the land.</i> -<span class="smcap">Laddie</span> <i>drops his father’s hand; plays among the annunciation lilies</i>. -<span class="smcap">Harvey</span>, <i>with a courtly salute, retires. He does not speak further to</i> -<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span>.)</p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Exit</i> <span class="smcap">Harvey</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Laddie</span> (<i>breaks one of the tall lily-stalks—gently, for a boy. As he -does so, the cup opens, and a little white bird flies out, hangs poised -in the air a moment</i>). Oh, the beautiful! (<i>Catches the bird, which he -handles tenderly.</i>) Papa! Papa! I went to pick a lily, and I picked a -bird! Oh, Papa, what a pretty country!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>smiling in spite of himself</i>). Come here, my lad. -(<i>Caresses the child with pathetic gratitude.</i>) If it were not for you, -little man— (<i>Bows his face on the child’s head.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<i>The twilight changes slowly to moonlight.</i>)<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_116" id="page_116"></a>{116}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Laddie</span> (<i>restlessly</i>). I must go find Maidie and show her my white bird. -They didn’t grow in her street.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>anxiously</i>). Don’t go far, my child. You might lose your -way.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Laddie</span> (<i>with a peal of laughter</i>). We never lose our way in this nice -country.</p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Exit</i> <span class="smcap">Laddie</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>paces the path desolately; does not speak. As the moonlight -brightens, groups of spirits stroll among the fields and trees. These -walk often two by two. They are, and yet are not, like earthly lovers. -They murmur softly, and express delight to be together; and some of them -go hand in hand, or with arms intertwined. But a beautiful reserve -pervades their behavior. Faintly from beyond arise the strains of the -Serenade of Schubert’s, played with extreme softness and refinement, but -with a depth of emotion which carries the heart before it.</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> -<i>listens to the music. The sails quiver on the distant<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_117" id="page_117"></a>{117}</span> water, and faint -figures can be seen moving on the beach. The passion flowers salute each -other. The great Serenade plays on.</i>)</p> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span>. (<i>Her smiling face<br /> -is grave, or even a little sad. She is<br /> -moved by the music, and seems to sway<br /> -towards it.</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>holds out<br /> -his hand to her</i>. <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> <i>extends<br /> -her own, confidingly. The two stand<br /> -listening to the music, like comrades<br /> -bereft of other ties; on her face rests<br /> -a frank, affectionate expression; on<br /> -his a desolate leaning towards the<br /> -nearest sympathy. They glance at<br /> -the spirits who are strolling two by<br /> -two through the celestial evening. The<br /> -music is suspended.</i>)<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>moodily</i>). This foreign country would be lonelier without -you, Mary Fayth.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> (<i>frankly</i>). Of course it would!... It is a lovely thing that -we died together.... It has been a comfort to me, Doctor.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_118" id="page_118"></a>{118}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> And to me.... Helen would be pleased.... Helen might like to -have it so, I’ve thought ... if she thinks of me at all.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> (<i>quickly</i>). She thinks of nothing but you ... all the time.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>eagerly</i>). How do you know? Have you been there? Can <i>you</i> -see Helen?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> (<i>mysteriously smiling</i>). Don’t ask me!...</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>imperiously</i>). When was it? How did you get there? How did -she look?—Is she well?—Did she look very wretched? Were her lips pale? -Or only her cheeks? Does she weep much? Can she sleep?—Is she living -quite alone?—Oh, how does she bear it? (<i>He trips upon his words, and -stops abruptly.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<i>A strain from the Serenade breathes, and sighs away.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> (<i>gently but evasively</i>). My poor friend!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_119" id="page_119"></a>{119}</span></p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> <i>unclasp hands, and stand side by side, -silently in the moonlight. A certain remoteness overtakes their manner. -Each is drowned in thought in which the other has no share. The Serenade -is heard again.</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span>, <i>with a mute, sweet gesture of farewell, -glides gravely away</i>. <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>does not seek to detain her</i>.)</p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Exit</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<p>(<i>The Serenade plays on steadily.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>puts his hands to his ears, as if to shut out the music, -which falls very faintly as he speaks</i>). Between herself and me the -awful gates of death have shut. To pass them—though I would die again -to do it—to pass them for one hour, for one moment, for love’s sake, -for grief’s sake—or for pity’s own—I am forbidden. (<i>Breaks off.</i>) ... -Her forgiveness! Her forgiveness! The longing for it gnaws upon me.... -Oh, her unfathomable tenderness—passing the tenderness of women!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_120" id="page_120"></a>{120}</span>—It -would lean out and take me back to itself, as her white arms took me to -her heart—when I came home—after a hard day’s work—tired out.... -Helen! <i>Helen!</i></p> - -<p>(<i>The music strengthens as he ceases to speak; then faints again.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>moans</i>). For very longing for her, I would fain forget -her.... No! No! No! (<i>Starts.</i>) Never would I forget her! To all -eternity would I think of her and suffer, if I must, because I think of -her.... I ... love her ... so.</p> - -<p>(<i>The Serenade ceases slowly, and sighs away.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>stands with the moonlight on his face. It is rapt, and -carries a certain majesty.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<i>Spirits pass. Some of them glance at him, with wonder and respect. No -one addresses him. He stands like a statue of strong and noble solitude. -He does not perceive the presence of any spirit.</i>)</p> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Enter</i> The Child. (<i>Runs to his father.<br /> -Springs into his arms.</i>)<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_121" id="page_121"></a>{121}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Child.</span> Lonesome, Papa? I will comfort you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>clasps the boy, who seems half-overcome with sleepiness. -Lays him gently on the grass</i>). Go to sleep, my child. It is growing -late. (<span class="smcap">Laddie</span> <i>drops asleep</i>.)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>continues to speak, for his emotion bears him on</i>). I did -not expect to live when I was dead. I lived—I died—and yet I live. I -did not think that love would live when breath was gone. I loved—I -blasphemed love—I breathed my last—and still I love. If this be -true—<i>any</i>thing may be true— (<i>breaks off</i>). God! It may be years -before I can see her face—twenty years—thirty— (<i>groaning</i>)—<i>Whence</i> -came the love of man and woman, that it should outlive the laws of -Nature, and defy dissolution, and outlast the body, and curse or bless -the spirit? If love can live, anything can live. Since this -is—<i>any</i>thing may be— (<i>Falters; glances about; finds<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_122" id="page_122"></a>{122}</span> himself quite -alone with the sleeping child; lifts his eyes to the sky, and then his -hands; stands irresolute. Then slowly, reluctantly, still standing -manfully upright, with a touching embarrassment.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>prays</i>). Almighty God!—if there be a God Almighty. Reveal -thyself to my immortal soul!—if I have a soul immortal.</p> - -<p class="cspc">. . . . . . . . . . . . .</p> - -<p>(<i>The moonlight fades into a dark midnight. The figure of</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> -<i>disappears in it</i>.)</p> - -<p>(<i>Dawn comes on subtly, but at once, for the nights and days of Paradise -are not governed by the laws of earth, and day breaks splendidly over -the heavenly world.</i>)</p> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Enter the</i> Two Children (<i>playing with<br /> -flowers, and tasting fruit</i>).<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Laddie.</span> How did you like coasting down that waterfall on rainbows?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Maidie.</span> I want that butterfly—with fire on it.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_123" id="page_123"></a>{123}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Laddie.</span> Don’t be stupid, because you’re dead! That is a flower. (<i>Picks -a flower in the shape of a butterfly with jeweled wings; hands it to the -girl.</i>) No, it won’t fly. It isn’t grown up yet.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Maidie.</span> Shall I fly when I’m grown up? I’ve got wings, too. (<i>Shows her -feet, on the heels of which a tiny pair of wings appear.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Laddie</span> (<i>jealously</i>). I didn’t know you had them. That’s why you can -jump over things and get ahead of me.</p> - -<p class="c"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth.</span> Doctor, I don’t know what ails me. Perhaps it’s a symptom—a -moral symptom—but I can’t help thinking of Cleo. I wonder—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>with reserve</i>). I do not care to speak of the woman.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth.</span> You are right. But I did not mean to be wrong. (I think it -must have been a symptom.) It’s the first time I’ve felt nervous since I -died. I beg your pardon.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_124" id="page_124"></a>{124}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Laddie</span> (<i>running to meet them</i>). Papa! Maidie’s got wings on her feet. -Why don’t <i>I</i> have some? Papa! Papa! Come into your new house. It grew -up out of the woods—like—like acorns.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>addressing</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span>, <i>looking towards the cottage</i>). It -is a shelter for the child, at all events. Quite in accordance with my -present social position in this place—a mere cottage—but it makes him -a home, poor little fellow!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth.</span> It’s just what Helen would like. She hates palaces.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>starts as if stabbed; makes no reply</i>).</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Laddie</span> (<i>suddenly</i>). Oh, Papa, Mrs. Fayth’s got wings on her feet, too. -Her dress covers them up. I like her better than I did that lady you -were so cross to.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> (<i>laughing</i>). I am so well!—oh, so well! I am a-shamed to be -so happy! I walk on air. I float on clouds. I move on waves. All nature -seems to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_125" id="page_125"></a>{125}</span> under my feet, and her glory in my heart.... Poor Doctor! -(<i>Breaks off and looks at him with quick sympathy.</i>) And yet I tru-ly -think you im-prove in spirits. You don’t look armed to the teeth, all -the time—now.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>smiles cheerfully</i>). A man must respect law, whatever state -he is in. I would conform to the customs of this place, so far as I can. -I would do this for the boy’s sake, at least. I don’t wish to be a -disgrace to him in this system of things.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth.</span> Does Doctor Harvey treat you by scien-ti-fic ev-olu-tion? -That’s a man’s way. It’s a pretty slow one.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Laddie</span> (<i>insistently</i>). Papa, she <i>has</i> got wings on her feet.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> (<i>blushing</i>). Go away and play, children.</p> - -<p>(<i>The children run to the cottage. The little girl bounds before, with a -light, flying motion. They play in the cottage at “keeping house,” -running in and out.</i>)<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_126" id="page_126"></a>{126}</span></p> - -<p>(<i>Suddenly a change takes place upon the landscape. Its colors soften -and melt. Flying tints, like light broken through many prisms, float -upon the white flowers, rest upon the annunciation lilies, and -delicately touch the white robe of</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span>. <i>In fact, the whole -atmosphere takes on the appearance of a vast rainbow. Music from the -temple sounds clearly.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Voices</span> (<i>can be heard singing</i>):—</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Thou that takest away the<br /></span> -<span class="i1">Sins of the world!”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> (<i>starts with a listening, devout expression</i>). Do you hear -that?... Oh, watch, Doctor! Watch for what will happen!</p> - -<p>(<i>Spirits can be seen suddenly moving from all directions. They hurry, -and exhibit signs of joyful excitement. The singing continues; -repeats</i>:—</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Thou that takest away the<br /></span> -<span class="i1">Sins of the world!”)<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>(<i>Now over the brilliant landscape falls<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_127" id="page_127"></a>{127}</span> a long, sharp, strange shadow. -It is seen to be the shadow of a mighty cross, which, if raised upright, -would seem to reach from earth to heaven. The children run back from the -cottage.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Laddie.</span> Papa! who is worship? Is it a kind of game? Papa, what is Lord? -Is it people’s mother? What is it for?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>with embarrassment</i>). Alas, my boy, your father is not a -learned man.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Laddie</span> (<i>imperiously</i>). Teach me that pretty song! I cannot sing it. All -the other children can—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Voices</span> (<i>chanting</i>):—</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Thou givest,<br /></span> -<span class="i1">Thou givest,<br /></span> -<span class="i1">Eternal life!”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>sadly</i>). My son, I cannot sing it, either.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Laddie</span> (<i>with reproach, and with a certain dignity</i>). Father, I wish you -<i>were</i> a learned man. (<i>Walks away from his father;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_128" id="page_128"></a>{128}</span> goes up the path. -The little girl follows him.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<i>The evidences of public excitement increase visibly. From every part -of the country spirits can be seen moving, with signs of acute pleasure. -Some hasten towards the Temple; others gather in groups in the roads and -paths; all present a reverent but joyful aspect.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> (<i>gliding away</i>). I cannot lose a moment. (<i>Beckons to</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. -Thorne</span> <i>as she moves out of the grove and up the path. Calls.</i>) Doctor! -Doctor!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>shakes his head</i>). I do not understand.</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> <i>remains still full in sight, standing as if to watch a -pageant or to see the prominent figure of a procession</i>.)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Laddie</span> <i>runs on beyond her, watching eagerly; shades his eyes with his -little hand</i>.)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Maidie</span> <i>flits along with him</i>.)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>stands quite alone. He,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_129" id="page_129"></a>{129}</span> too, shades his eyes with his -hand, and scans the horizon and the foreground closely.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<i>The shadow of the great cross falls upon him where he stands.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<i>It can now be seen that the happy people beyond give evidence of -greeting some one who is passing by them. Some weep for joy; others -laugh for rapture. Some stretch their arms out as if in ecstasy. Some -throw themselves on the ground in humility. Some seem to be entreating a -benediction. But the figure of Him who passes by them remains invisible. -The excitement now increases, and extends along the group of spirits -until it reaches those in the foreground. Here can now be seen and -recognized some old patients of</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne’s</span>—<span class="smcap">Mrs. True</span>, <span class="smcap">Norah</span>, <i>and</i> -<span class="smcap">Jerry</span>.)</p> - -<p>(<i>These wear the golden cross upon the breast.</i> <span class="smcap">Harvey</span> <i>enters -unnoticed, and mingles with the crowd. He stands behind<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_130" id="page_130"></a>{130}</span></i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span>, -<i>who remains rapt and mute, full in the light. She has forgotten</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. -Thorne</span>.)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>watches the scene with pathetic perplexity. He does not -speak.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<i>The chanting continues, and the strain swells louder.</i>)</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/ill_pg-130_lg.png"> -<img src="images/ill_pg-130.png" width="500" height="427" alt="Musical -Notation" /></a> -</div> - -<p>(<i>Now the Invisible Figure makes the impression of having reached the -nearer groups.</i>)<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_131" id="page_131"></a>{131}</span></p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Norah</span> <i>falls upon her knees</i>.)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Jerry</span> <i>salutes respectfully, as if he recognized a dear and honored -employer whom he wished to serve and please</i>.)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Mrs. True</span> <i>reaches out her arms with reverent longing</i>.)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Maidie</span> <i>kisses her little hands to the Unseen</i>.)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Harvey</span> <i>stands devoutly with bowed head</i>.)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> <i>holds out both hands lovingly. Then she sinks to the ground -upon her knees and makes the delicate motion of one who puts to her lips -the edge of the robe of the Unseen Passer. Her whole expression is -rapturous.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Laddie</span>, <i>breaking away from his elders, now boldly steps out into the -path. He looks up; shades his eyes, as if from a brilliance; then -confidingly puts out his hand, as if he placed it in an Unseen Hand, and -walks along, smiling like a child who is led by One whom he trusts and -loves.</i>)<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_132" id="page_132"></a>{132}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>in distress</i>). I see nothing!—No one! I am blind—blind!</p> - -<p>(<i>Chanting.</i>)</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Thou that takest away<br /></span> -<span class="i1">The sins of the world!” ...<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>covers his face. The music ceases. The air grows dimmer -than twilight. But there is no moon, nor is it dark. The groups in the -foreground move away in quiet happiness, like those who have had their -heart’s wish granted.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<i>Harvey</i>, <span class="smcap">Mrs. True</span>, <span class="smcap">Norah</span>, <span class="smcap">Jerry</span>, <i>and</i> <span class="smcap">Maidie</span> <i>mingle with the other -spirits</i>.)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span> <i>rises from her knees; melts slowly in the dusk</i>.)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Laddie</span> <i>runs into the grove, and disappears in the gloom. He acts as if -looking for some one.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>remains alone. He paces the grove, irresolute—then -suddenly turns in the direction whence the Invisible had come; walks -uncertainly up the path; searches, as if for signs of the Passer;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_133" id="page_133"></a>{133}</span> -examines the grass, the shrubbery; touches the flowers, to see if they -had bent beneath His feet; stoops; examines the pathway reverently; -speaks in a low tone</i>). The footprint! I have found the footprint! There -<i>was</i> One passing. And He stepped here. But I was blind! (<i>Hesitates; -lifts his face to the sky; drops it to his breast; murmurs -inarticulately. Then slowly—as if half his nature battled with the -other half, and every fibre of his being yielded hard—he drops upon his -knees. He remains silent in this posture.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<i>From the depth of the grove behind</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne’s</span> <i>cottage</i>,)</p> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Cleo</span> <i>stealthily</i>. (<i>She watches</i><br /> -<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>with an expression in<br /> -which love, fear, reproach, and astonishment<br /> -contend. She makes no<br /> -sign, nor in any way is her presence<br /> -revealed to</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span>. <i>Taking a<br /> -few steps forward, she touches the<br /> -shadow of one arm of the mighty<br /> -cross.</i> <span class="smcap">Cleo</span> <i>retreats in confusion</i>.)<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_134" id="page_134"></a>{134}</span><br /> -<br /> -<i>Enter</i> The Child (<i>running down the<br /> -path</i>). Papa! Papa! (<i>Points up the<br /> -path. Beckons to his father. Points<br /> -ecstatically.</i>) Look, look, Papa!<br /> -</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>arises to his full height; looks where</i> The Child -<i>points</i>.)</p> - -<p>(<i>Slowly and solemnly</i>,)</p> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Jesus the Christ</span>. <i>(Our Lord<br /> -appears as a majestic figure, melting<br /> -of outline, divine of mien, with arms<br /> -outstretched in benediction.</i>)<br /> -</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Cleo</span> <i>at sight of the</i> Sacred Figure <i>wrings her hands in anguish, and -makes as if she would flee; but remains gazing at the Vision, as if -compelled by forces unknown to her. As the Vision draws nearer</i>, <span class="smcap">Cleo</span> -<i>drops upon her face. Her long hair covers her. All her contours blur -into the increasing shadow. The scene is now quite dark, except for the -light which falls from the</i> <span class="smcap">Person of Our Lord</span>. <i>This shall fully -reveal</i> <span class="smcap">The Man</span>, <i>who falls at the feet of the Vision, and</i> <span class="smcap">The Child</span>, -<i>who stands<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_135" id="page_135"></a>{135}</span> entranced, with his little arms around his father’s neck.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>lifts his hands rapturously</i>). I <i>was</i> blind—But, now, I -see! (<i>Accepts and remains in the attitude of worship as manfully as he -had refused it.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">The Sacred Figure</span> <i>stirs, as if to meet the kneeling man; slowly dims, -melts, and fades; vanishes</i>.)</p> - -<p class="c"> -<span class="smcap">End of Scene III.</span><br /> -</p> - -<h3>SCENE IV.</h3> - -<div class="blockquot"><p>In the same perspective as Scene III. is the Heavenly -City on the Hill. Thronging spirits move to -and fro.</p> - -<p>The distance is full of radiance and of happy social -life. In the foreground is seen a dim and desolate -place. It is cavernous and mountainous. Its extreme -edge yawns over a black space, like a gulf or pit, or -it might be the mouth of an underground river. Here -and there is a stark, dead tree. A narrow footpath -winds among the crags. The path turns a sharp -corner between boulders; and the fair contrast of a -sunny country smiles beyond it. Rosebushes in full -bloom peer above the top of the rocks. The annunciation<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_136" id="page_136"></a>{136}</span> -lily is still prominent among the flowers. No -sign of life appears in the mountainous foreground.</p> - -<p>Suddenly, silently, and swiftly, moving from the -sunny land, around the sharp turn in the pathway, -feet and face set toward the cavernous region,</p></div> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Azrael</span>, <i>Angel of Death</i>. (<i>The<br /> -Angel is immovable of manner. But<br /> -an obvious tenderness wars with the<br /> -solemnity of his expression. He looks<br /> -neither to the right nor to the left, but<br /> -glides over the rough path steadily;<br /> -his robe, which is of dull, white gauze,<br /> -conceals his feet; his wings are<br /> -folded; he carries no flaming sword,<br /> -nor any weapon.</i>)<br /> -</p> - -<p>(<i>After a moment’s interval, following</i> <span class="smcap">The Angel</span> <i>quickly</i>,)</p> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>his robe is much<br /> -paler, but still of a purplish tint. It<br /> -is now clasped by the golden cross.<br /> -He cries aloud</i>). Azrael!<br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Echo</span> (<i>from the caverns</i>). Azrael!</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Azrael</span> <i>makes no reply. Moves on steadily.</i>)<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_137" id="page_137"></a>{137}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>in a lower voice</i>). Azrael, Angel of Death!</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Azrael</span> <i>turns his head, but without pausing</i>.)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> In the name of Him who strove with thee, and conquered -thee—whither goest thou, Azrael?</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Azrael</span> <i>pauses. He looks over his folded wing at the man; regards him -steadily; does not speak; moves on again.</i> <span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>utters an -inarticulate exclamation. He follows the Angel. Halfway down the path he -stops, perplexed. His expression is anxious.</i> <span class="smcap">Azrael</span> <i>moves on. He does -not again look back; glides to the edge of the ravine. The scene -darkens. The Angel does not pause, but can be seen to cross the gulf -fleetly. He does not fly, but appears to tread the air across the -space.</i>)</p> - -<p class="r"> -[<i>Vanish</i> <span class="smcap">Azrael</span>.<br /> -</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>stands alone in the gloom. His eyes are fixed upon the spot -where the<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_138" id="page_138"></a>{138}</span> Angel disappeared. A low, rushing sound, as of water, can now -be heard.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>shudders; speaks</i>). It seems like an underground river. -Horrible! (<i>Calls.</i>) Azrael! Tell me thine errand—in this fearful -place!</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Azrael</span> <i>neither replies nor appears. It grows very dark. The -perspective of the Heavenly City fades. The rushing of the river can be -heard. Now, through the unearthly gloom, upon the hither side of the -gulf, slowly grow to form the outlines of a Woman. She stretches her -arms out with the motion of one feeling her way. She moves with -difficulty, tripping sometimes, but regaining her footing bravely. Her -robe is light. Her face cannot be recognized.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>on whose sensitive countenance falls the only light in the -scene, shows an unaccountable emotion. He murmurs</i>). It is a -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_139" id="page_139"></a>{139}</span>woman—alone—exhausted ... and a stranger. As I serve her, so may God -send some soul of fire and snow to serve my dear wife—in <i>her</i> hour of -mortal need! (<i>He advances towards the woman with a chivalrous -sympathy.</i>)</p> - -<p>(The Woman <i>moves on steadily; weakens; reels, but holds her ground. It -can now be seen that her eyes are closed. She falls. She does not cry -out.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> How brave you are! Keep courage. (<i>Catches her before she -touches the ground. She lies in his arms in a faint or collapse.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>carries her along midway of the scene</i>.)</p> - -<p>(<i>It lightens slowly. As it does so, it can be seen that the woman is -young and fair, and fine of nature. Her robe is of dazzling white; it -has a surface like that of satin-finished gauze, which reflects all the -light there is. Her long, dark hair is disordered, and falls about her. -She is pale. Her eyes do not open. She lies helplessly in his arms.</i>)<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_140" id="page_140"></a>{140}</span></p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>lays her gently against the trunk of a dead tree, which has -fallen across a hollow in the cliff, and which rests so as to support -the woman. He seats himself beside her; bends to examine her face.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>recognizes the face of the woman; cries in a voice that -rings through the hills</i>). <i>Helen!</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">The Echo</span> (<i>takes up the cry</i>). <i>Helen!</i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Helen Thorne</span> (<i>is half-conscious and confused; does not open her eyes; -murmurs</i>). Will it last long?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>clasps her reverently. As his arms touch her, they can be -seen to tremble. He moans</i>). My—poor—wife!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Helen Thorne</span> (<i>still lying with closed eyes; murmurs, but more -distinctly</i>). I said I would die two deaths for him.... Are they over, -yet?... if that would help him any ... where he had gone. (<i>Opens her -eyes, but they see nothing. Dreamily and solemnly, as if repeating a -familiar<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_141" id="page_141"></a>{141}</span> prayer, she speaks softly.</i>) Great God! I will die ten deaths -for him ... and count myself a happy woman ... if that will make it any -easier for <i>him</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>groaning, puts his wife gently from him, as if she were a -being too sacred for his touch. Turns his face from her; speaks</i>). I am -not fit!... I dare not touch her!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Helen Thorne</span> (<i>praying</i>). Dear Lord! I would die for him ... as Thou -didst die for us.... If that could be.... <i>Dear</i> Lord!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>utterly broken</i>). I am a sinful man, O God! (<i>Removes from -her, and stands with his face in his hands.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Helen Thorne</span> (<i>recovering full consciousness, and with it sudden -strength, lifts herself to a sitting posture; looks about her; half -rises. Suddenly she recognizes her husband, where he stands aloof. She -cries plaintively</i>). Esmerald?—Isn’t it over yet? <i>Esmerald!</i> Have<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_142" id="page_142"></a>{142}</span> you -forgotten me? Don’t you <i>care</i> for me any more?... (<i>piteously</i>). Oh, -Death! I did not think that thou wouldst <i>crucify</i> me ... <i>so</i>!</p> - -<p>(<i>Sudden darkness falls. When it passes, the gulf, the dark mountain, -the underground river, the ravines are gone. Slow and sweet light -returns softly. It is the setting of the sun. The perspective of the -Heavenly City and spirits are as before. The grim scenery surrounding -the mouth of the River of Death has given place to a fair meadow, sunny -and open. Some of the boulders remain, and the path which cut through -the ravine now runs across the field. Clumps of trees and thick shrubs -break the space between the foreground and the distant spirits, and the -path turns a curve through a thicket of roses. Lilies as before grow -higher than any other flowers, and nearer to the eye.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Helen Thorne</span> (<i>stands, tall and glorious. Faint color has returned to -her pale<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_143" id="page_143"></a>{143}</span> face. Her expression is radiant. She looks downward and -stretches down her hands; speaks, very softly</i>). Dear!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> (<i>prostrate at his wife’s feet, speaks</i>). Forgive! <i>Forgive</i> -me, Helen.</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Helen Thorne</span> <i>smiles divinely. Stoops to lift him up.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>resists her still, and, fallen at her feet, he draws the -hem of her robe slowly to his lips. Then he lays his cheek upon her feet -before he reverently kisses them.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> I said ... oh, I have broken my heart for what I said ... to -you!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Helen Thorne</span> (<i>reaches down her beautiful arms to him. Draws him up</i>). -Why, my poor Love! My dear Love! Did you think I would remember <i>that</i>?</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>arises. Holds out his shaking arms; does not speak.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Helen Thorne</span> <i>in silence creeps to him, not royally, like a wife who -was<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_144" id="page_144"></a>{144}</span> wronged; but like the sweetest woman in the world, who loves him -because she cannot help it, and would not if she could. Her face falls -upon his breast.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span>, <i>as if she were a goddess, still not daring to caress her, -lays his cheek upon her soft hair. Before her face, but not touching it, -he delicately curves his hand as if he enclosed a sacred flame from the -rude air.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Helen Thorne</span> (<i>lifts her face to his. Her eyes, all womanly, turn to him -in Paradise as they did on earth. She speaks softly</i>). I am in Heaven -... after all!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne.</span> And I have never been there ... until now! (<i>He clasps her -slowly to his heart; turns her face back upon his arm and reverently -looks at it; scans it adoringly; humbly crying.</i>) Helen! <i>Helen!</i></p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>kisses his wife’s brow—eyes—cheek—and then her lips. -Suddenly,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_145" id="page_145"></a>{145}</span> around the curve in the path where the thicket of roses -blossoms, running rapidly</i>,)</p> - -<p class="hang"> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Laddie</span> (<i>carrying a stalk of the<br /> -white lilies. He cries</i>). Papa! Papa!<br /> -I’ve lost you, Papa! (<i>The child runs<br /> -down the path. Closely following<br /> -him, fair and gentle, brightly smiling</i>,)<br /> -<br /> -<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span>. (<i>She draws back<br /> -quickly; utters an inarticulate exclamation;<br /> -extends her hands in an impulsive<br /> -gesture of delight. But she<br /> -withdraws and puts her finger on her<br /> -lips. She retreats without speaking.</i>)<br /> -</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Mrs. Fayth</span>, <i>hidden for a moment behind the thicket of roses, reappears -beyond with the other spirits. The group of spirits stirs upward in the -bright scenery.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>and</i> his Wife, <i>having seen or heard nothing, still stand -rapt, embracing solemnly</i>.)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Laddie</span> (<i>stops on the path, irresolute.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_146" id="page_146"></a>{146}</span> Frowns a little in pretty, -childish perplexity; makes as if he would go back; looks at the two -again. Then suddenly darts forward; cries</i>). Why, that’s my Mamma! -(<i>Springs to her; clutches at her white robe, pulls at her hand.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Helen Thorne</span> (<i>recognizes the child instantly, despite his larger -stature; she cries out</i>). Why, my little boy! Mother’s baby boy! Oh! -<i>you</i> again, ... you, too! My little, little boy. (<i>Catches him to her; -kisses him wildly; holds him, and releases him, and holds him again. -Murmurs half-intelligible words brokenly.</i>) Mother’s baby!... Mother’s -beauty!... Oh, mamma <i>missed</i> you, sonny-boy—</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>does not speak. His face is shining. He holds his wife -within his arms as if he feared to lose her if he loosened them.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">The Child</span>, <i>laughing softly, fondles his mother. The three stand -clinging together rapturously.</i>)<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_147" id="page_147"></a>{147}</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Voices</span> (<i>from beyond the rose thicket chant</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“As it was in the beginning, is now,<br /></span> -<span class="i1">And ever shall be,<br /></span> -<span class="i1">World without end. Amen.”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>(<i>Chorus of spirits from the region of the Temple on the Heavenly Hill -very softly sing.</i>)</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“O Paradise! O Paradise!<br /></span> -<span class="i3">The world is growing old.<br /></span> -<span class="i1">Who would not see that heavenly land,<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Where love is never cold?” ...<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>(<i>As they sing, the fair country brightens subtly, and all the heavenly -scene is radiant. The moving groups of spirits seem to be joining in the -song.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<span class="smcap">Dr. Thorne</span> <i>and</i> his Wife, <i>turning, look into one another’s faces. -They do not speak.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<i>Now, delicately, it shall be seen to darken on the bright land, and a -holy half-light touches every outline.</i>)</p> - -<p>(The Child <i>leaves his parents. He walks a few steps away, shading his -eyes with<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_148" id="page_148"></a>{148}</span> one hand, as if he saw invisible glory; in the other hand he -carries the annunciation lily.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<i>Vaguely at first, then more definitely; slowly and solemnly</i>,)</p> - -<p class="c"> -<i>Enter</i> JESUS <span class="smcap">the</span> CHRIST.<br /> -</p> - -<p>(<i>The</i> Sacred Figure <i>advances towards the</i> Man <i>and</i> Woman, <i>who are -unconscious of the approach. Its hands are stretched in benediction. It -stands for a moment, mutely, and unseen by them.</i>)</p> - -<p>(The Boy <i>runs towards it fearlessly; seats himself upon the -meadow-grass at the feet of the</i> Figure.)</p> - -<p>(<i>The</i> Sacred Figure <i>stirs towards the child. All the light in the -scene now falls from the</i> Figure.)</p> - -<p>(<i>The</i> Man, <i>the</i> Woman, <i>and the</i> Child <i>receive its full effulgence</i>.)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Voices from Beyond</span> (<i>sing</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Where loyal hearts and true<br /></span> -<span class="i3">Stand ever in the light,<br /></span> -<span class="i1">Enraptured through and through”—<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_149" id="page_149"></a>{149}</span></p> - -<p>(<i>The</i> Man <i>and the</i> Woman <i>now perceive the</i> Sacred Figure. <i>They fall -to their knees. The man’s arm still encircles his wife. They bow their -heads before the Divine Presence.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<i>The</i> Child, <i>with the lifted lily, remains at the feet of the</i> -<span class="smcap">Christ</span>.)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Voices from Beyond</span> (<i>repeat</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Enraptured through and through,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In God’s most holy sight.”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p>(<i>The</i> Sacred Figure <i>dims and slowly fades. With it disappears the -stalk of annunciation lilies. The light returns softly upon the -celestial scenery.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<i>The</i> Sacred Figure <i>vanishes</i>.)</p> - -<p>(<i>The</i> Man, <i>the</i> Woman, <i>and</i> Child <i>stay gazing after it</i>.)</p> - -<p>(<i>Now a mist breathes upon the Heavenly City and the sunny country. All -the outlines of the happy scenery blur and faint.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<i>The groups of spirits grow dim.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<i>Distant music softly sustains the strains of the song; but without -words.</i>)<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_150" id="page_150"></a>{150}</span></p> - -<p>(<i>And now the golden mist slowly envelops the</i> Man, <i>the</i> Woman, <i>and -the</i> Child, <i>who remain for a moment before the eyes—a vision—solemn, -tender, and half unreal</i>.)</p> - -<p>(<i>The music continues very faintly. The strain slowly ceases.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<i>The mist dulls, deepens, and thickens, till it rolls like an -impenetrable curtain before the vanished scene.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_151" id="page_151"></a>{151}</span></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_152" id="page_152"></a>{152}</span></p> - -<p class="c"> -<span class="smcap">End of the Drama.</span><br /> -</p> - -<p class="c"> -The Riverside Press<br /> -<i>Electrotyped and printed by H. O. Houghton & Co.<br /> -Cambridge, Mass., U. S. A.</i><br /> -</p> - -<hr class="full" /> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's Within the Gates, by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WITHIN THE GATES *** - -***** This file should be named 53794-h.htm or 53794-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/3/7/9/53794/ - -Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images available at The Internet Archive) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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