Part 7

I told the waiter on my way up. Here they are. [_A couple of waiters come in with glasses and bottles of champagne._] No teetotalism to-night, Mr. Swalecliffe. By Jove, I’m thirsty. Pour it out. Pour it out.

SWALECLIFFE.

I never touch alcohol, Mr. Winter.

GEORGE WINTER.

Poor is the heart that never rejoices. Have you all got glasses, gentlemen? Come on, Lady Francis. Don’t be backward, Anne.

ANNE.

Yes, please.

GEORGE WINTER.

That’s right. Now then, Teddie. All ready? Gentlemen, I give you my wife, to whom this glorious victory is due.

ALL.

Mrs. Winter, Mrs. Winter. Catherine.

CATHERINE.

[_Embarrassed and shy._] Thank you very much.

[_There are shouts outside, cheers_: WINTER, WINTER, _For he’s a jolly good fellow_.

GEORGE WINTER.

Hulloa, they’ve come round to the hotel.

ANNE.

Just look at the crowd.

O’DONNELL.

Shall I open the window?

GEORGE WINTER.

[_Stepping forward._] Yes.

[_At his appearance the shouts break out more tumultuously. Cheer upon cheer is heard._ GEORGE WINTER _puts up his hand for silence_.

GEORGE WINTER.

Gentlemen, we’ve won a great fight. We’ve won in face of a campaign of lies, of misrepresentation, and of scandal. Truth always prevails. Honesty is the best policy. A glorious victory, gentlemen, and a triumph for English honesty, English plain dealing, and English integrity. Gentlemen, I drink your health.

[_He drinks his glass of champagne before the crowd. The cheering which has been going on all through the speech now grows louder and louder. There are shouts of_ MRS. WINTER.

GEORGE WINTER.

Kate, they want you.

CATHERINE.

No. Please not.

GEORGE WINTER.

Come. No false modesty. Give them a bow, that won’t hurt you.

[_He takes her hand and draws her to the window. The crowd bursts out again into cheering._ GEORGE WINTER _comes back into the room_.

GEORGE WINTER.

My word, what a moment!

BOYCE.

You must be dead beat.

GEORGE WINTER.

I? Fresh as a daisy. Nothing can beat me.

O’DONNELL.

[_Taking out his watch._] By Jove, I had no idea it was so late.

BOYCE.

I think I’ll be getting along.

GEORGE WINTER.

Oh, nonsense! Why, the evening’s only just beginning.

BOYCE.

I’m dog tired.

SWALECLIFFE.

I must be getting away, too. My wife will be wanting to know all about it.

GEORGE WINTER.

Well, if I can’t persuade you, I suppose I can’t. I hope you’ll all have as good a night as I mean to.

SWALECLIFFE.

You think it’s all right about--about that matter?

GEORGE WINTER.

Don’t you worry your head. It’s as right as rain. I tell you that nothing I touch can fail.

SWALECLIFFE.

Then good-night.

GEORGE WINTER.

Good-night.

[COLONEL BOYCE, SWALECLIFFE, _and the other two men who came in with them, go out_.

GEORGE WINTER.

You’re not going yet, Ford?

JAMES FORD.

No. If you don’t mind I’d like to have a word with you when you can spare me a few minutes.

GEORGE WINTER.

As many as you like. I’m ready now.

LADY FRANCIS.

If you’re going to talk business, we’d better leave you.

JAMES FORD.

I’m in no hurry, my lady.

LADY FRANCIS.

It really is getting very late.

O’DONNELL.

Aren’t you too tired for business now?

GEORGE WINTER.

Tired? I don’t know what it is to be tired. When you write my biography, young man, you can say that after the hardest fought battle of the election, when the cheers of the multitude were still ringing in his ears, he sat down at midnight, fresh as paint, and talked business with the shrewdest man in Middlepool till break of day.

JAMES FORD.

[_Drily._] It’ll be more accurate if you say for ten minutes.

GEORGE WINTER.

But so much less effective.

ANNE.

I’m sure you’ve been drinking too much champagne, George.

GEORGE WINTER.

[_Laughing._] Nonsense. I could drink a gallon, and be as sober as a judge at the end of it.

ANNE.

Well, good-night.

GEORGE WINTER.

[_Kissing her._] Good-night, my chick. Have you named the happy day yet?

LADY FRANCIS.

Good-night.

GEORGE WINTER.

[_To_ _O’Donnell_.] And you can add that I enveloped my mother-in-law in my arms.

LADY FRANCIS.

[_With a smile, warding off his attempt to embrace her._] I congratulate you. It’s been a great triumph.

GEORGE WINTER.

Oh, it’s only the beginning. I’ve got the world at my feet. In ten years I shall be crying like Alexander because there are no more worlds to conquer.

O’DONNELL.

You don’t want me any more, do you?

[LADY FRANCIS _and_ ANNE _go out_.

GEORGE WINTER.

No, go to bed. You’re young, and you want your beauty sleep. I’ll be bound you’re not worried by the trains. Where’s your room?

O’DONNELL.

It’s just above yours. But I sleep like a top.

GEORGE WINTER.

That’s a good sign. You’ll be as great a man as I am one of these days.

O’DONNELL.

[_With a laugh._] Good-night.

GEORGE WINTER.

[_To_ ETCHINGHAM.] And you’d better go off too, old man. You look tired out.

ETCHINGHAM.

[_Wearily._] It’s been an exciting day for all of us.

GEORGE WINTER.

It’s been one of the days that make life worth living.

ETCHINGHAM.

Good-night.

[_As they go out_ CATHERINE _comes forward_.

CATHERINE.

I won’t say good-night to you just yet. If Mr. Ford is not going to keep you long I should like to speak to you afterwards.

JAMES FORD.

It’ll be ten minutes at the utmost, Mrs. Winter.

GEORGE WINTER.

[_With exaggerated gallantry._] I’m at your disposal, darling, now and always.

[_With a slight bow to_ JAMES FORD, CATHERINE _goes out_.

GEORGE WINTER.

I told you I was justified in trusting my luck. Everything is coming out right. The Lewishams won’t be able to stand against me much longer. They’ll have to take me in. We’ll combine our interests, and then we shall hold Central America in the hollow of our hands. You’ll be in it too, James. You’re going to be a richer man than you guess. And when I’m in with the Lewishams I shall bide my time. Manny Lewisham can’t last much longer, and his sons are fools. When he’s gone I shall get the whole business in my hands. I’ve got ten times more brains than anyone in that market. There’s no one who can stand against me.

JAMES FORD.

[_Quietly._] You haven’t forgotten that article in _The Financial Standard_?

GEORGE WINTER.

[_Gaily._] Oh, is that what you want to talk to me about? I tell you that shan’t disturb my night’s rest. By the way, that reminds me: if I have won the election it was through no help of yours. I asked you to go down and speak in the Cattle Market, and when I got there I found there’d been no sign of you. It might have been devilish awkward.

JAMES FORD.

Well, it so happens it didn’t matter.

GEORGE WINTER.

Where did you get to after all?

JAMES FORD.

[_Looking at him._] I went up to London!

GEORGE WINTER.

[_Indifferently, doing all he can to hide his suspicion._] Did you?

JAMES FORD.

[_Very quietly, almost diffidently._] I was struck by one of the paragraphs in the article. The one about where you got the money from.

GEORGE WINTER.

[_With a smile._] I noticed that seemed to bother you a bit.

JAMES FORD.

Things were pretty tight at that time.

GEORGE WINTER.

A man in my position can always lay his hands on money.

JAMES FORD.

It was a big sum.

GEORGE WINTER.

Fair to moderate.

[_There is a very short pause. The two men, both shrewd, hard and keen, face one another like two duellists._

JAMES FORD.

It struck me that the Middlepool Investment Trust had got a large batch of bonds lying in the bank.

[_He watches_ GEORGE WINTER _for the effect of this statement_.

GEORGE WINTER.

[_With a smile._] Well, they’re lying there still.

JAMES FORD.

Will you take your oath on that?

GEORGE WINTER.

Yes.

JAMES FORD.

The more I thought of it, the more nervous I was. I went to the bank.

[GEORGE WINTER _gives him a rapid look, but otherwise makes no sign that he realizes his theft is discovered_.

JAMES FORD.

They showed me an order for delivery of the bonds signed by you, Etchingham, and Bennett.

GEORGE WINTER.

Have a cigar, will you?

JAMES FORD.

No.... What have you done with those bonds?

GEORGE WINTER.

If they’re in their place when the auditor makes his examination no one has any question to ask.

JAMES FORD.

[_More sternly._] You had no more right to touch them than my office boy has the right to take a sovereign from the petty cash.

GEORGE WINTER.

What the devil d’you mean by that?

JAMES FORD.

I’m a director of the Middlepool Investment Trust. I insist on the bonds being produced at once.

GEORGE WINTER.

They shall be produced in a fortnight.

JAMES FORD.

No, no, my friend, that won’t do.

GEORGE WINTER.

[_Impatiently._] Don’t be a fool, James, you know as well as I do that business is business.

JAMES FORD.

Yes, and not theft.

GEORGE WINTER.

[_Apparently flying into a passion._] How dare you speak to me like that!

JAMES FORD.

It’s no good trying to bluster with me, George. I’ve seen you do it at shareholders’ meetings and very effective it is sometimes, but this isn’t the time for it.

[_There is a pause._ GEORGE WINTER _considers the position and determines to face it_.

GEORGE WINTER.

All right then.... I knew the mine was a good thing. I pledged the bonds to pay for it. I shall get them back as soon as the money comes in from the issue. Now you’ve got it.

JAMES FORD.

It’s theft pure and simple.

GEORGE WINTER.

[_Insolently._] I suppose you want to come in with me. [_He does not notice_ JAMES FORD’S _instinctive movement of repulsion_.] I’ll give you your shares for nothing. That means ten thousand pounds, and if you hold on to them they’ll be worth fifty thousand in a year.

JAMES FORD.

Thank you. I’m not going to risk a lifetime’s honest work for a few thousand pounds.

GEORGE WINTER.

Then what do you want?

JAMES FORD.

Nothing.

GEORGE WINTER.

[_With a slight smile._] You’ve been Mayor of Middlepool twice, and you’ve done a lot of work for the party. I can’t help thinking it’s almost time the Government showed some appreciation of your services.

JAMES FORD.

You’ve mistaken your man, George Winter. I’ve worked like a nigger for thirty years. I’ve not let any chance slip by me, but I’ve never done anything that a man need be ashamed of. I’ve built up an honest business to leave to my sons, and an honest name. I’m too old to start being a rogue now.

GEORGE WINTER.

[_Impatiently._] I thought you wanted to talk business.

JAMES FORD.

Right’s right, and wrong’s wrong. You can’t get over that. I couldn’t rest for a moment if I thought any act of mine wasn’t above board. It’s no credit of mine, I’m just made that way.

GEORGE WINTER.

[_As if he were talking to a child._] Come, James, we’ve been good friends for twenty years.

JAMES FORD.

[_In a low voice._] This afternoon, when I found out what you’d done--well, I could have cried.

[_There is a real anguish in his tone which startles_ GEORGE WINTER. _For the first time he realizes that the affair is serious. He begins to get frightened._

GEORGE WINTER.

[_Quickly, hoarsely._] But you don’t mean seriously....

JAMES FORD.

[_Desperately._] How can I make you understand? You don’t seem to see that now I know what you’ve done I’m just filled with horror and loathing. If you’ve done this God knows what else you haven’t done. I don’t want to be hard on you. I must do my duty. I’m a director of the company. I put all my friends in it. I put my sister into it. And this mine. Is it true what that paper says? For all I know that’s a swindle too.

GEORGE WINTER.

[_With sudden anxiety._] You’re not going to push me down now that I’m almost at the top of the tree? I’ve got the world at my feet. If you’ll only give me a month I can put everything straight.

JAMES FORD.

Five minutes ago it was a fortnight. I don’t believe it. These things don’t come right. When a man has crossed the line that separates honesty from dishonesty he never gets back.

GEORGE WINTER.

If you give me away now it’ll mean a general smash. The only chance of saving things is to go on. The money’s gone. You won’t get it back by giving me up to the police.

JAMES FORD.

I must take my chance of that. After all, if I don’t speak it makes me a party to the crime. It can be proved that I went to the bank to-day.

GEORGE WINTER.

Now you’re saying something I can understand. If I show you by plain figures that I can put everything right if you’ll only give me time....

JAMES FORD.

I tell you I can’t. I’ve got my wife to think of, and my boys. It’s theft, it’s the money of orphans and widows that you’ve taken, and there’s only one course open to me.

GEORGE WINTER.

What are you going to do?

JAMES FORD.

[_Brokenly._] My God, what can I do? I trusted you as I would have trusted my sons.

GEORGE WINTER.

Out with it!

JAMES FORD.

I must--I must consult the Chief Constable.

GEORGE WINTER.

You wouldn’t do that? You don’t seriously mean that you’d go to the police? It’s madness. It’s so impractical. It’s stupid.

JAMES FORD.

I could never respect myself again if I.... It’s a matter between my conscience and myself.... Oh, George, why have you put me in this position?

GEORGE WINTER.

Look here, old man, I’ve done wrong. I admit it. I’ve done something that other men have done before me and it’s come out all right. At the time I thought the slump would only last a few days, and I thought I should be able to replace the bonds in a week. It’s the only slip I’ve made. Don’t be too hard on me.... [_With a break in his voice._] Have mercy as you hope in your turn to have mercy shown to you. Don’t ruin me for this one mistake. Let it mean something to you that I’m humiliating myself before you.... It wasn’t a crime. It was only thoughtlessness. Give me another chance.

[JAMES FORD, _with his face between his hands, thinks it over. He is deeply moved by_ GEORGE WINTER’S _appeal_. GEORGE, _watching him keenly, thinks he is going to yield_.

GEORGE WINTER.

We’ve gone through bad times and good together. I’ve been a good friend to you. You’ve never had anything to reproach me with till now.

JAMES FORD.

[_Brokenly._] I can’t risk the money of all these poor people again.

GEORGE WINTER.

Will it satisfy you if I give up the directorship of the Middlepool Trust? Give me six months to save my face and I’ll resign.

[JAMES FORD _looks up at him, wondering if he can put any trust in_ GEORGE WINTER. GEORGE _waits for the decision with beating heart_. _He feels almost sick with fear._

JAMES FORD.

I’ll tell you what I’ll do. If the bonds are in their place by four o’clock to-morrow I’ll say nothing.

GEORGE WINTER.

[_Astounded._] To-morrow? It can’t be done. It’s impossible.

JAMES FORD.

That’s all I can do for you.

GEORGE WINTER.

[_Hardly knowing what he is saying._] But no one could get it. You know it’s impossible. Even if you gave me a week I couldn’t do it. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. With the attack on us to-day we’re--we’re tottering. It’s as much as we shall be able to do to hold out till the tide turns. That’s not giving me a chance. Not a chance. To-morrow! It’s absurd!

JAMES FORD.

That’s my last word.

GEORGE WINTER.

You might as well send for the police at once. Oh, my God! It’s impossible.

JAMES FORD.

If the money is not there by the time the bank closes I shall apply for a warrant.

GEORGE WINTER.

D’you know what that means? It means a trial, and then--and then prison.

JAMES FORD.

I can’t do more for you than I’ve offered.

[_The finality of this, the deep regret and the decision in_ FORD’S _tone, are like a blow in the face to_ GEORGE WINTER. _He gives a sudden start, and throwing off his humbleness, flies into ungovernable passion. He whips himself into a rage as he flings the scornful invective at_ JAMES FORD _and ends up on the last words in a positive scream of fury_.

GEORGE WINTER.

Oh, it’s infamous. It’s damned hypocrisy. You don’t care if I’ve taken the money or not. You’re afraid of your own skin. And you’re jealous of me. It’s envy. I knew you envied me all the time. D’you think I’ve been taken in by you? You were a little tin god in Middlepool till I came along. You didn’t fight me like a man. You just sided with me, waiting for your chance to trip me up. You think when I’m gone you’ll have the field to yourself. Why shouldn’t you be the member as well as I? It’s mean. It’s mean. You with your damned Christianity, your parrot cries of honesty. Damn you! Damn you! Damn you!

JAMES FORD.

[_Quietly._] You see, you’ve gone too far. I shall never make you understand. You can’t realize that a man may be honest, even if he loses by it, just because he can’t help it, because he’s made straight as some men are made crooked.

GEORGE WINTER.

It’s childish.

JAMES FORD.

You’ve got through the world by knowing that nine men out of ten are rascals. You’ve forgotten that the tenth man must cross your path at last.

[_When he hears these words_ GEORGE WINTER _gives a start, and he looks at_ FORD _with staring, terrified eyes. He passes his hand over his forehead, trying to recall._

GEORGE WINTER.

[_Almost to himself._] Who said that to me before?

[_There is a pause._

JAMES FORD.

Good-bye, George. My promise holds.

GEORGE WINTER.

[_Bitterly._] It’s no good to me. I’m like a rat in a trap. You can get what fun you like out of seeing me wriggle.

[_For a moment_ JAMES FORD _looks at him, then silently goes out_. GEORGE WINTER _is seized with a horrible, convulsive trembling. He shakes as a man might shake in an ague. With his quick mind he sees that no subtlety will save him now; he is up against the blank wall of a character as strong as his own. In a moment_ CATHERINE _enters the room_.

GEORGE WINTER.

What the devil d’you want?

CATHERINE.

I heard Mr. Ford go. May I speak to you now?

[GEORGE WINTER _makes an effort to appear composed_.

GEORGE WINTER.

Well?

CATHERINE.

Now that the election is over you can have no further use for me. I’ve carried out my part of the bargain scrupulously.

GEORGE WINTER.

[_Putting his hand in a dazed way to his head._] I don’t know what you’re talking about.

CATHERINE.

I understand that I’ve condoned all your offences towards me, and I’m helpless now to do anything. So you need have no fear that I shall interfere with you in any way. [_He turns round and looks at her. He takes in at last what she is saying._] But there’s no reason that I should expose myself any longer to a humiliation that I found unbearable. I’ve come to tell you that now I’ve done all you exacted I’m going to leave you, this time for good. I’m starting early to-morrow morning for the Continent with my friend Barbara Herbert, and I shall not return. You can devise whatever explanation you think necessary, and you may be quite sure I shan’t contradict it. I shall be gone by the time you get up. You will find in my room all the trinkets you’ve given me. I wish to take nothing with me that I have received from you.

GEORGE WINTER.

[_With clenched teeth._] Are you leaving your clothes?

CATHERINE.

[_With a shrug of the shoulders._] I think there is nothing more to be said. Good-bye. I trust you to leave me in peace. I promise on my side to do nothing that can inconvenience you.

[_She waits for a moment to see if he has anything further to say, but as he remains silent she goes towards the door. As she is about to go out he bursts into a peal of laughter. She stops with a start and looks at him. His laughter grows, peal upon peal. It becomes wild and shrill and hysterical. He bellows with laughter. Already half frightened, not understanding_, CATHERINE _makes a step or two back into the room_.

CATHERINE.

What’s the matter? George, George!

[_He laughs still, and then suddenly breaks into a sob. He gives way entirely, and bursts into uncontrolled weeping._

CATHERINE.

[_Coming down to him._] George, what is it?

GEORGE WINTER.

For God’s sake give me a drink.

[_She hurries to the half-empty bottle of champagne on the table and pours out a glass of wine. He drinks it at a gulp._

GEORGE WINTER.

[_Recovering himself._] That’s rich, that is. Rich.

[_Again he bursts into laughter._

CATHERINE.

What is it, George? It’s not because I’m going away?

GEORGE WINTER.

Your going away doesn’t matter a damn to me. It means that I’ve been done in the eye. Those swindling rogues, the Lewishams, have got me at last. That article’s done the trick and I’m dished. You can go your own way now, Kate. You’ve got the better of me after all.

CATHERINE.

I don’t understand.

GEORGE WINTER.

James Ford knows that the bonds have gone. And he’s going to Scotland Yard.

CATHERINE.

Oh! And father?

GEORGE WINTER.

Oh, I can’t worry about your father now. He must look after his own skin. I’ve got enough to do to think of myself.

CATHERINE.

What shall I do?

GEORGE WINTER.

He’ll give me till to-morrow to replace them, but I can’t. It’s impossible. And he knows I can’t. Damned hypocrite! I shouldn’t complain if I’d been beaten fairly; but it’s so childish. And just when I’d got the reins in my hand. He can’t countenance dishonesty. It’s childish. I always distrusted him. Sanctimonious prig! He’s jealous of me. He wants to kick me off my perch, so that he can take my place. And I know him. I know him inside out. He’ll do what he says. [_With angry scorn._] It’s his duty.

CATHERINE.

Can’t we sell things? There’s my jewellery.

GEORGE WINTER.

A drop in the ocean. How can I get eighty thousand pounds in a falling market.

CATHERINE.

[_Horrified._] D’you mean to say they’ll arrest you?

GEORGE WINTER.

[_With a dull roar, like a wild beast at bay._] No. D’you think I’m going to stand that, and a trial, and--and all the rest?

CATHERINE.

[_Wringing her hands._] Is there no chance that you may get off?

GEORGE WINTER.

Bennett would give me away to save himself. I know him. There’s not a man I can trust. The only thing’s to have done with it at once. I must get out of it while I have the chance.

CATHERINE.

D’you think there’s any hope of your getting away?

GEORGE WINTER.

My way. Yes.

CATHERINE.

[_Understanding._] Oh, George, you wouldn’t do that.

GEORGE WINTER.

What else d’you expect me to do? D’you think I’m going to bolt to America, to be brought back in six months by a couple of detectives? Not much.

CATHERINE.

Wouldn’t it be better to stay and face it? If you’ve done wrong, can’t you accept your punishment? You’re young still.

GEORGE WINTER.

They won’t have mercy on me. It’ll mean ten years. And when I come out, it’ll mean hiding, doing odd jobs, like Bennett, dirty work for other men who won’t risk their own skins. And what d’you suppose a life like that is worth to me? I want the power, and the notoriety, and the glamour. I wanted men to point me out in the street. I’ve aimed too high to be content with anything but the highest.

CATHERINE.

Oh, it’s horrible.

GEORGE WINTER.

Come, Kate--honestly--if you loved me, wouldn’t you wish me to make an end of it?

CATHERINE.

[_After a long look at him._] Oh, don’t ask me.

GEORGE WINTER.

Will you do something for me? It’s the last thing I’ll ever ask you.

CATHERINE.

I’ll do anything I can.

GEORGE WINTER.

I want half an hour to myself. You must let no one come to me under any pretext whatever.

CATHERINE.

[_With a cry of horror._] You’re not going to do it now?

GEORGE WINTER.

I don’t trust James Ford. He may have gone to Scotland Yard already. Perhaps the detectives are already on their way.

CATHERINE.

You’ve said yourself that he’s to be relied on.

GEORGE WINTER.

Oh, I’m frightened. And what’s the good? I’m dead beat. Perhaps to-morrow I shouldn’t have the nerve.

CATHERINE.

Oh, it’s awful.

GEORGE WINTER.

[_With a laugh._] Why, it’s your freedom.

[_He goes to the table and pours himself out a glass of brandy._

GEORGE WINTER.

I’m mixing my liquors. Bad habit, isn’t it? You’ll be ravishing in black, darling. It always suited you.