Part 4

I was never free from the fear that you might not see anything in me except an image of that wasted, old creature. (_Instead of answering_, Margot _stretches out her arms to him with a soft cry of longing_. Ebeling _draws the low stool to the writing-chair on which she is sitting, sits down upon it, and embraces her._) Margot, my youth, my whole youth that I've squandered and frittered away comes back to me once more through you. And now all will be well with you, too. It was only a nightmare. Your true self had nothing to do with it. Only--you must take heart again--you must think of yourself now.

Margot (_ecstatically_).

Yes, I am equal to anything now. I am not afraid to face the worst. I can even marry that man. I shall send him my acceptance quite calmly.--Of course. Why not?

Ebeling (_shocked_).

What!

Margot.

Why should you be astonished at that? Now that I know you love me? Only for a year! Perhaps for two! Yes, two! Oh, please, two! Then, later, when you've left me, let others come! It's all the same, who! For marriage, of course, I'm entirely spoiled! But I'll be revenged on him! On him and on Virtue and on Loyalty and on all that stuff with which they've so long tormented me. And the evening before my wedding--then may I--come to you again? Toward twilight! It must be on a Sunday. I'll arrange for that, so we can be alone. Ah, I shall count the days till then! Why do you look at me like that? (Ebeling _stands up and throws himself on the sofa, burying his face in his hands. A long pause._) What can I have done? (_She stands up. Another pause._) Surely I haven't done you any wrong by loving you?

Ebeling.

Go home now, my child.

Margot.

I wanted to leave some time ago, but you made me stay. (_She buttons her coat, throws on her boa, and is about to go out. Then she turns around resolutely, and places herself before him._) Oh, I know--I'm disgraced--I'm not worthy of anything better--; but I needn't have had to endure _such_ scorn and contempt! (Ebeling _rises, looks at her, groans, buries his face in his hands, and falls back into the chair_. Margot _kneels beside him, weeping._) Dear--dearest--what is it? What's wrong, my darling?

Ebeling (_compelling himself to be composed_).

Stand up! (_She does so._) I am going to tell you. (_Stands up himself._) I asked your mother's consent to my marrying you to-day. There, now you know it. Good-bye. (_Sits down in the writing-chair. A pause._)

Margot.

(_Does not move. Her face becomes hard and bitter._) And now that you see what sort I am----H'm, yes. Ah, well, you'll soon console yourself. There are so many others. Why should it be just I? Let me suggest one of my friends--a dear--a pretty girl--with white teeth. Why take it to heart? It hurts for the moment--but one easily forgets. Such girls as I deserve nothing better. To them--one does this! (_Plucks the petals from the roses which are standing before her in the vase._) And then one throws them away--like this! (_Throws the petals in his face._)

Ebeling (_brushing away the petals_).

What have the roses done to you, my child?

Margot.

I sent them to you. I, too, may destroy them.

Ebeling (_springing up_).

It was you, you who all these years----?

Margot.

Good evening, Herr Ebeling. (_She goes out._)

Ebeling.

(_Pauses for a moment irresolutely, struggling with himself, then hurries after her. His voice is heard._) Stay here! Stay here! Come in here! (_He reappears at the centre door, pulling her by the arm._) Come in here! Come back!

Margot.

What do you want of me? I'll cry for help----

Ebeling.

Come here! (_Drags her to the writing-table._)

Margot.

Leave me alone!

Ebeling.

Be quiet! Be quiet! (_Picks up one of the pictures standing on the table._) There! That woman dragged my name in the gutter. Will you do the same? Answer me! (Margot _stands motionless, the tears running down her cheeks._) Answer, I say.

Margot (_slowly and heavily_).

Ah, one thinks and says so much when there's no longer a particle of hope in one's life.

Ebeling.

I understand. (_He throws the picture on the ground; frame and glass are dashed to pieces._) Let us go to your parents. We'll arrange with them what's best to be done. (_As she doesn't move._) Well? (Margot _shakes her head._) You don't want to?

Margot.

Not that way! As I am now, humiliated--mortified--disgraced--no, not that way! I am so tired of playing Magdalen! No! When I come, I'll come with a free step. I'll be able to look every man in the face! But I must find out first what I am still worth, and (_looking him full in the face_) it must be a great, great deal--to be worthy of you.

Ebeling (_moved_).

Give me your hands, dear.

Margot (_doing so_).

When we see each other again, they'll be red and ugly. (Ebeling _kisses her hands and presses them to his face._) Good-bye. (_She turns to go._)

Curtain.

III

THE LAST VISIT

A PLAY IN ONE ACT

CHARACTERS

The Unknown Lady. Lieutenant Von Wolters. Mulbridge, a horse-trainer. His Wife. Daisy, their daughter. Kellermann. Tempski, an orderly. A Groom.

The Present Day.

_The scene is laid in a large German garrison_.

THE LAST VISIT

Frau Mulbridge.

Well, now we have seen our poor, dear captain for the last time.

Mulbridge.

Yes. He was a good fellow, our captain and--awfully fond of horses.

Frau Mulbridge.

Why, Daisy, what's the matter, dear? You've been standing here all alone, and yet, until now, you wouldn't stir from the coffin.

Daisy.

I saw him quite well from here, mother, dear.

Mulbridge (_caressing her_).

My girlie--my little girl. Yes--we all loved him.

Frau Mulbridge.

(_To_ Tempski, _who is sobbing._) There, there, Tempski, hush now. (_A bell rings, right._) There's the bell; go and open the door. (Tempski _goes out at the right._)

Mulbridge (_to the_ Groom).

And we'll be off to the stables!

Frau Mulbridge.

Sh! The Lieutenant!

Mulbridge (_to the Groom_).

Go on! (_Pushes the_ Groom _out, left._)

(Lieutenant von Wolters _enters. He is an attractive young officer, very smart in appearance, wearing the uniform of an Uhlan_. Kellermann, _a self-possessed, sharp-eyed man, follows him. While they are entering_, Tempski _comes in at the right, quietly places a wreath on one of the piles near the columns, and goes out again._)

v. Wolters.

Well, Herr-- (_He puts his hand to his eyes, overcome for the moment, then stiffly, trying to conceal his emotion._) Herr--Kellermann was the name, wasn't it?

Kellermann.

At your service, Lieutenant.

v. Wolters.

You have done everything very satisfactorily. I am much obliged to you. You understand that the removal of the coffin to the church is to be accomplished as secretly as possible.

Kellermann.

I'm silent as the grave, Lieutenant. My business sort of carries that with it, don't you know.

v. Wolters.

It will be dark about half past five. I have ordered the troops that are to accompany the casket to be here at half past six. At the church--the catafalque and the rest--I can confidently leave all that to you?

Kellermann.

Most assuredly, Lieutenant. I shall see that everything is of the finest.

v. Wolters.

But remember your instructions: all superfluous ostentation is to be rigorously avoided--to-morrow at the funeral procession, also.

Kellermann.

I understand, Lieutenant--because of the way he met his death.

v. Wolters.

The reason does not concern you. (_Turns to go._)

Mulbridge. Beg pardon, Lieutenant, but may I speak to you? I've been in the captain's service seven years. I've been in Germany nearly eighteen years--have a German wife and daughter. I'm not as young as I used to be. What's going to become of the horses and the racing-stable, and-- the rest?

Frau Mulbridge.

Yes, it's really too bad about him, Lieutenant. He's so fond of his horses. Why, if ever you want to speak to him, you have to go and stay at the stable. That's the only way I can manage to see him.

Mulbridge.

And she's a great help to me, too, Lieutenant.

v. Wolters.

I can understand your anxiety, Mulbridge. The captain spoke about you on our last journey together. He especially commended you and your family to my care. But, of course, everything will depend upon the heir.

Frau Mulbridge.

And who is the heir, Lieutenant?

v. Wolters.

No one knows. He had no relatives. But be assured that whoever it is, I will do my best to----

Mulbridge.

Thank you, Lieutenant! Thank you! (_He says a few words aside to his wife and goes out, left._)

v. Wolters.

Have you anything else to do here, Herr Kellermann?

Kellermann.

Yes, indeed, a great many things, Lieutenant. (_Goes out at the centre, carrying several wreaths, and then returns for more_. Frau Mulbridge _helps him._)

v. Wolters.

Oh, by the way, may I have a word with you, Daisy? (Daisy _comes forward_, v. Wolters _continues aside to her._) My dear child, I know that the captain had a great deal of confidence in you.

Daisy.

Yes, he had.

v. Wolters.

Well then, listen. Some one wishes to come here before the casket is removed some one who must not be seen.

Daisy.

Very well. She may.

v. Wolters (_amazed_).

What----? She----?

Daisy.

Why, it must be the lady.

v. Wolters.

What lady?

Daisy.

The lady for whom he let himself be shot.

v. Wolters.

What! You know----?

Daisy.

She had to come, of course. Who else should it be?

v. Wolters.

H'm! Well then, listen carefully. If the undertaker--or any other stranger--should still be here when it begins to grow dark, throw on a wrap and wait at the door downstairs until a carriage stops. Will you?

Daisy.

Certainly I will. And Tempski?

v. Wolters.

Yes, Tempski, faithful as he is----

Daisy.

Tempski was never around in those days.

v. Wolters (_looking at her in astonishment_).

Oh--so Tempski--was never--around--in those days! H'm! Well then, I'll undertake to get rid of Tempski myself. Thank you, my child. (_Gives her his hand, then aloud._) I have another errand, but I'll be back soon. (_Goes out at the right._)

Frau Mulbridge.

What did the lieutenant want of you?

Daisy.

Nothing in particular--something about the wreaths.

Kellermann (_coming in from the back_).

Yes, with all those wreaths, we'll have to have an extra carriage for the flowers. He was a fine man, he was--a highly respected man! And on horseback! Why, I've won every time I bet on him! Ah, yes, but sooner or later they all have to come to me!

Frau Mulbridge.

And he was such a kind master! He was just like a child sometimes--so light-hearted and happy--like a little boy! Lately, to be sure, he-- (_The bell rings._) Well, Daisy!

Daisy.

(_Who has stood without moving, lost in thought._) I guess Tempski will go.

Frau Mulbridge.

Yes, yes, you're right. Tempski is outside.

Tempski (_brings in a wreath, sobbing_).

F-from--our--major.

Frau Mulbridge.

Why, Tempski, it's perfectly natural that the major----

Tempski.

From--our--major.

Frau Mulbridge.

Take the wreath from him, Daisy.

Daisy.

Yes, mother, dear. (_She does so_. Tempski _goes out, crying._)

Kellermann (_reaching for the wreath_).

From his major that must go on the coffin!

Daisy.

I'll do it.

Kellermann (_in doubt_).

Don't you think----?

Frau Mulbridge.

Yes, let her; she looks after everything.

Kellermann.

But nail it tightly, little lady--else it'll fall off when they're carrying him to the church.

Daisy.

Yes, yes. (_Goes out back with the wreath. During the following conversation, the strokes of a hammer are heard._)

Frau Mulbridge.

Everything is so well arranged here. I don't see why they've got to take him to the church.

Kellermann.

The official statement is that it will prevent any demonstration in the street. You know, the town folks haven't taken very kindly to this murdering business of late. But, of course, that's not the real reason. The truth of the matter is that several very influential ladies would like to attend the funeral without being seen. H'm!--love never dies, they say. Ah, the captain was no saint, I can tell you!

Frau Mulbridge.

What do you know about it?

Kellermann.

Oh, well, there's a lot of talk about the veiled figures that used to go in and out of here at twilight. And if these mirrors could speak--! That reminds me--I'd almost forgotten--we must cover the mirrors. (Daisy _appears in front of the curtain. She is staring into space._)

Frau Mulbridge.

But since the casket is to be taken away in less than an hour--what's the use?

Kellermann.

That doesn't make any difference. The mirrors have got to be draped. It would be a blemish on my art--and I wouldn't answer for it.

Frau Mulbridge.

Daisy!

Daisy.

Yes, mother, dear.

Frau Mulbridge.

Go get a pair of lace curtains to hang over the mirrors.

Daisy.

Yes, mother, dear. (_She does not stir._)

Frau Mulbridge.

Daisy! You're not listening.

Daisy.

Yes I am, mother, dear. You asked me to-- (_Falters._)

Frau Mulbridge.

I asked you to fetch a pair of lace curtains.

Daisy.

Yes, mother, dear. (_Goes out, left._)

Frau Mulbridge.

Now that the child isn't here--tell me, Herr Kellermann, do you know anything about the cause of the duel? We're all groping in the dark here at the house.

Kellermann.

Well, they're saying all sorts of things. But the dead are my friends. I never say anything against them. It's a business principle with me.

Frau Mulbridge.

Yes--but the man who shot him, is he still walking around free as air?

Kellermann.

Yes, that's the way with these fine folks. They fall upon one another like highwaymen. Your honour or your life! The man who survives can laugh. The man who falls--well, he falls into my arms. But, see here, getting into a duel with that fellow, that Baron Renoir--why it was nothing short of suicide! I tell you, where that man goes, no grass grows! On the turf, at the card-table, with the women--always the same story. That man shot him down like a rabbit. Oh, of course, it's always a fine thing to lay down your life for a woman. That's a phrase that----

Frau Mulbridge.

Do you really think that a woman----?

Kellermann.

Sh! Here comes your little girl. (Daisy _enters with two vases, which she is carrying very carefully._)

Frau Mulbridge.

What's that you're bringing?

Daisy.

I stopped and filled them first.

Frau Mulbridge.

But you were to get a pair of lace curtains!

Daisy.

Oh, forgive me, mother, dear. I thought you said vases. I'll go (_Exit with the vases._)

Frau Mulbridge.

I don't know what's come over the child! Why, she's been such a help these days--thought of everything, wanted to do everything herself.

Kellermann.

A nice little girl--how old is she?

Frau Mulbridge.

Seventeen, her last birthday.

Kellermann.

Is she at school?

Frau Mulbridge.

She's been going to the Art Institute. She wants to teach drawing.

Kellermann.

I suppose the captain thought a lot of her?

Frau Mulbridge.

Oh, dear me, yes. She was always around him from the time that she was a mere child. They used to play together out in the yard like two little kittens! Of course, when she grew older, that sort of thing stopped. But lately, when he seemed so worried, I----

Kellermann.

So he seemed worried, did he?

Frau Mulbridge.

Yes, indeed. I've had my suspicions for the last two months. Well, when he seemed so worried, I used to manage to send her in to him pretty often. She read aloud to him--and so on. (Daisy _enters with a couple of curtains, and a dark coat on her arm._)

Kellermann.

Thanks, thanks, little lady. (_Takes the curtains from her and stands on a chair under one of the mirrors._) What lovely Venetian lace! Ah, yes, every mirror comes to this sooner or later!

Daisy.

I'd like to get a breath of fresh air, would you mind, mother, dear? I feel so----

Frau Mulbridge.

Yes, yes, dear. Go out for a little while. (Daisy _puts on her coat._)

Kellermann (_in front of the other mirror_).

Why, here's a little bunch of flowers!

Daisy (_eagerly_).

Oh, please, please, let me have it.

Kellermann (_blowing off the dust_).

If it doesn't fall to pieces. (_Hands it to her._) Ah, yes, many, many loved him! He had a beautiful life, he had a beautiful death, and, as for a beautiful funeral--just leave that to Kellermann! (_Takes his hat._) I'll be back again for the procession. Good evening, ladies.

Frau Mulbridge.

Good evening. (_To_ Daisy, _seeing her take off her coat._) I thought you said you were going out?

Daisy.

Oh, well, I've changed my mind now.

Frau Mulbridge.

I'm glad, because one feels so--so alone in here.

Daisy (_with a glance backward_).

But we are not alone yet.

Frau Mulbridge (_shuddering slightly_).

That's just it.

Daisy (_staring straight before her_).

I'm not afraid.

Frau Mulbridge.

Tell me something, Daisy, dear. Weren't you in there last night?

Daisy (_alarmed_).

Last night? I?

Frau Mulbridge.

Yes, at the coffin.

Daisy.

What should I be doing at the coffin?

Frau Mulbridge.

Well, I thought I heard some one go past the door.

Daisy.

You must have been dreaming, mother, dear.

Frau Mulbridge.

Very likely. I haven't been sleeping well these nights. See here, Daisy, perhaps he's left us something--you, at least--tell me, haven't you been thinking about that sometimes?

Daisy (_apart, with a glance at the clock_).

If she doesn't come soon----!

Frau Mulbridge.

What's that you were saying? (_The bell rings_. Daisy _starts._) Why, what's the matter with you? (v. Wolters _enters._)

v. Wolters (_calling_).

Tempski!

Tempski (_at the threshold, in military attitude_).

Here, Lieutenant!

v. Wolters.

Hurry over to the garrison church and see if everything is ready.

Frau Mulbridge.

Why, Kellermann will see----

v. Wolters.

And then go--or no--stay there until the casket arrives. Do you understand?

Tempski.

At your command, Lieutenant. (_He goes out._)

v. Wolters.

That's attended to. And now, my dear Frau Mulbridge, there's something that I want to confide to you. A visitor is coming here presently--a lady. (Frau Mulbridge _glances anxiously at_ Daisy, _who nods._) She is not to be seen by any one--except Daisy. Daisy, it appears, used to open the door for her sometimes in former days.

Frau Mulbridge.

Daisy--? What does this mean?

Daisy.

Oh, Tempski might have gossiped, you know.

Frau Mulbridge.

And so he let _you_ open the door?

Daisy.

I never gossip, mother.

Frau Mulbridge.

I'm finding things out now! Why did I never hear of this before?

Daisy.

Oh, you were always in the stables with father in the evening.

Frau Mulbridge.

And there I was trying to keep this child from any knowledge of the things that went on in here--and he----

v. Wolters.

We've no time for that now, Frau Mulbridge. Daisy, you will watch outside, won't you?

Frau Mulbridge (_protesting_).

Oh, that's too----

Daisy (_firmly_).

Yes, I'll watch. (_The bell rings softly._) Should I----? (v. Wolters _nods._)

Frau Mulbridge (_calling her back_).

Daisy! (Daisy _goes out without noticing her mother._)

v. Wolters.

May I ask, Frau Mulbridge, that you----

Frau Mulbridge.

Very well. We have served him faithfully, and I'll not start making any trouble now at the end. (_Exit, left_. v. Wolters _goes to the door at the right, listens, and then opens it cautiously_. The Unknown Lady _enters. She is heavily veiled, dressed entirely in black, and carries a spray of white roses. As she enters, she staggers slightly and leans against the writing-table for support._)

v. Wolters (_who has softly locked the door_).

May I show you the way, Countess? (The Lady _shakes her head and motions questioningly toward the back_. v. Wolters _nods, and she goes out through the curtained doorway. After a short pause_, v. Wolters _opens the door at the right._)

v. Wolters (_calling_).

Daisy! (Daisy _appears at the threshold._) Kindly see that no one enters the house while this lady is here--no one, do you understand?

Daisy.

Oh, yes, I understand very well.

v. Wolters.

It may be that she has something else to say to me. If the men should come for the casket before she has left, take them around the other way. Keep the main entrance clear.

Daisy.

No, that wouldn't be safe.

v. Wolters.

Well, what shall we do?

Daisy (_breathing heavily_).

I'll--think of something.

v. Wolters.

His death grieves you, too, dear child?

Daisy.

Me? Oh, yes--me too. (_She goes out_. v. Wolters _walks to and fro, pauses to listen in front of the curtain, turns on the electric lamp, again walks to and fro, etc. At a slight movement of the curtain, he stops, expectant_. The Lady, _still veiled, comes forward slowly until she has reached one of the chairs on the left. A pause._)

The Lady.

Ah, Herr von Wolters--to let them close the coffin before I--I had seen him--I must confess, I had not expected that of you, Herr von Wolters.

v. Wolters.

I didn't dare prevent it, Countess--just because of your coming. It was the only way to have the house to ourselves.

The Lady.

Don't call me countess, Herr von Wolters. I am not a countess here. (_Glancing toward the door._) I am only an unhappy woman whom no one in this house knows, whom no one is to know.

v. Wolters.

Wouldn't you care to rest for a moment?

The Lady.

Are we quite safe here?

v. Wolters.

Quite. The little girl who, you say, is not unknown to you, is outside at the entrance. I have told her mother of your visit and she will not enter the house. If you wish, however, we can lock the door.

The Lady.

Yes, do. Or, no, perhaps it would be better not to--in case any one----

v. Wolters.

Very well.

The Lady.

(_Throws back her veil, revealing a very beautiful face, which is deathly pale and wears an expression of the deepest affliction. She sinks into the chair. A pause._) I wanted to lay my roses on his breast. Ah, Herr von Wolters, I loved that man with an infinite love. Perhaps grief will give my life a new and holier meaning--who knows? We seek beauty--and find grief. Tell me, Herr von Wolters, you were his best friend, did you never suspect----?

v. Wolters.

Never, never.

The Lady.

And when you received my letter early this morning asking you to come at once--not even then?

v. Wolters.

I could draw--various conclusions--from that.

The Lady.

For instance----?

v. Wolters.

Oh, please--really, you must excuse me----

The Lady.

No, Herr von Wolters. We are here--but why don't you sit down? (_He does so._) We are here together, you and I, to hold the last rites over our sainted dead. His friend and his beloved who else has any right to be here? Herr von Wolters, I have given you my full confidence--I have made a strange confession to you. You will not betray me?

v. Wolters.

Ah!

The Lady.

And so, in this sacred hour, there must be no concealment between us. Answer me now. What does the world say?

v. Wolters (_embarrassed_).

The world says so many things, Countess.

The Lady.

Tell me, to what extent has my name been associated with this affair?

v. Wolters.

I can't conceal the fact from you, Countess. Your name is mentioned.

The Lady (_thoughtfully_).

Yes, that's what my husband says.

v. Wolters.

But please let me add that not a shadow, not the slightest suspicion, has ever----

The Lady.

But what else can they think?

v. Wolters.

My dear Countess, when a woman is as beauti-- I mean, that when a woman is the centre of so much interest, it's not surprising that some notice was taken of the attentions which he--

The Lady (_somewhat impatiently_).

Yes--but----?

v. Wolters.

It naturally was observed that my friend----

The Lady.

Our friend had a--what shall I say--a susceptible heart. We knew that, who knew him so well. This was not the first time he had--been interested in a woman. And that was why I arranged to have him seen in our house as little as possible--lately, not at all.

v. Wolters.

That fact did not escape notice, Countess. And as Baron Renoir was frequently seen with you--instead of----