LIBRARY UNIVERSiTY OF CALIFORNIA RIVERSIDE :W THE BONDMAN PLAY Copyright in this play has been secured in the United Kingdom and the United States, and in all Countries and Colonies having a treaty or an understanding with either. THE BONDMAN PLAY By hall CAINE LONDON THE DAILY MAIL 1906 The Photographs of Mr. Hall Caine and Mrs. Patrick Campbell are by Beresford. The photograph of Mrs. Patrick Catnpbell as Greeba is by W. and D. Downey, Ebury Street, and that of Mr. Arthur Collins by Langfier, Ltd. Other photographs are by The Dover Street Studios. THB Te%SONS OF THS PLAT Adam Fairbrother Ruth Faikbeother Greeba MONA Danny Grandfather Michael-j Jason Father Febrati Governor Testa Doctor Boni Marshal of Police Farm Servants and Coastguards in Man; Naval Officers, Police, Soldiers, Warders, Students, Housekeeper and Maids in Sicily. J- Half-brothers Produced by Arthur Collins at Theatre Royal, Driiry Lane, London, on September 20, 1906. THB SC€NSS OF THS PLAY THE FIRST ACT "MANSION HOUSE" OF FARM IN MAN THE SECOND ACT "STREET" OF FARM IN MAN THE THIRD ACT PRESIDENT'S HOUSE— SICILY THE FOURTH ACT SULPHUR MINES— SICILY THE B'IFTH ACT PRESBYTERY-" LONELY ISLAND," SICILY THREE YEARS arr supposed to elapse hdu'cen Acts One and Two; A MONTH between Jets Two mid Three; A MONTH between Acts Three and Four; SIX MONTHS between Acts Four and Five. AUTHOR'S NOTE The Bondman is written in five acts, but for the greater convenience of the stage at Drury Lane Theatre, it is to be played in four, the third and fourth acts being given as one. The scene of the first and second acts is laid in the Isle of Man, while that of the third and fourth is in Sicily, and the period is the middle of the nineteenth century, when the maritime relations of the two islands weie closer than they are now. Lest the few (and not important) political incidents which stand as a background to the story of human passion, should seem to clash with history, the author apologises for any liberties he may have taken with fact in dealing Avith events that are supposed to occur in the last evil days of the Kingdom of Naples. Having said so much, it can hardly be necessary to tell those who know the author's novel of the same name, that the drama (while preserving the original motive and the principal characters) is not so much a dramatisation of the story as an independent play on the same subject. THE STORY OF " THE BONDMAN " The two principal male characters in the drama are half-brothers, their fathei', a Sicilian, having first betrayed and deserted the daughter of the Governor X A VTHOR'S NOTE of one of the dependencies of Sicily (who has cast her out of doors at the birth of her illegitimate child), and then come to the Isle of Man, where he married another woman, who bore him another son. The Sicilian son, Jason, has reached manhood, when his mother dies, and, at the point of death, she prompts him to avenge her wrongs on his father and his father's son in the foreign country. About the same time the father himself dies, and in the hour of death he urges his English son, Michael, to find and succour the woman he has injured and the child he has left fatherless. This occurs before the curtain rises, and the play is intended to illustrate the conflict of the Pagan ideal of vengeance with the Christian ideal of love. Michael sets out for Sicily on his mission of mercy at the moment when Jason arrives in Man on his errand of vengeance. They miss each other by less than an hour, and Jason finds himself in the house and among the family that Michael has left behind him. THE SECOND ACT The Second Act is concerned with the life of Jason in Man. Here he falls in love with the girl, Greeba, to whom Michael is devotedly attached. His love humanises and ennobles him, and he puts aside for a time his evil purpose. Greeba, on her part, more than half-drawn to the stranger, struggles to be faith- ful to Michael, but after three years have passed, in which he does not return, and nothing is heard of him, she yields (under the importunities of family aud friends, and the innuendoes of enemies) to the AUTHOR'S NOTE xl pleading of Jason, and consents to marry him. Hardly has she done so when news comes from Michael, explaining his absence and silence on the ground of his imprisonment for participating in a revolutionary movement, and this brings back Greeba's afiections to their original object, with the result that she begs Jason to relieve her of her promise. Jason does so, but the enmity against his father's son, which he had inherited from his mother, has now become peisonal to himself, and in a fit of mad jealousy he swears afresh his vengeance upon the half-brother who first robbed him of a father and now robs him of a wife. THIRD ACT The Third Act (first scene of Third at Drury Lane) is concerned with the life of Michael in Sicily and the eSbrt of Jason to meet him there. Having failed in his errand of mercy (the Sicilian mother being dead and her son gone from the country), Michael (like another English-born enemy of the Bourbons) has enlisted himself in one of the many revolutionary struggles of his father's country, about the year 1860, with the result that he has overthrown the Governor Testa (who was the grandfather of Jason) and established himself in his oflice and house. To this house Jason comes on his errand of vengeance, being introduced into it by one of the old Governor's confederates, who is using his madness as a means of reprisal. But when the moment arrives in which Jason expects to encounter Michael, it is Greeba (now Michael's wife) with whom he comes face to face. Greeba sees through Jason's purpose, pleads with him xii AUTHOR'S NOTE to put it away, struggles hard to soothe and conciliate him, and when all efforts seem hopeless, and there is nothing left but to pi'otect the life of the man she wholly loves at any cost to the man she partly loves, she denounces Jason as a political spy and sends him to prison. Then comes Michael, who has discovered Jason's identity, but knows nothing yet of his life in Man. Bent on cancelling Jason's punishment, he is only restrained by Greeba's entreaties, which, first awakening misgiving and then suspicion, finally i-esult in a full revelation of Greeba's relations to him in her own country. Michael thinks he has been deceived, charges Greeba with failure of faith in him, accuses her of protecting a secret of her own rather than his life in denouncing Jason as a spy, and then renouncing the mission of mercy with which his father has inspired him, he in his turn vows a life- long enmity against the man who has come between him and the woman he loves. At this moment the schemes of the Governor's confederate come to a head, and Michael is arrested by his enemies as a traitor against the King (by assisting in the general effort of the time to overthrow his Government), and he, also, is cast into prison. FOURTH ACT The Fourth Act (Second Scene of Third at Drury Lane) shows how and where the half-brothers, who now hate each other with a hatred partly inheinted but mainly personal, at length come together. It is in a place where all personal identity is lost and neither knows the other from another man. At the Sulphur Mines on a convict ialand, Michael and Jason first AUTHOR'S NOTE xiii meet as B25 and D25, and stiaightway the sworn enemies become sworn friends. Lashed together by an order of intolerable tyranny, the two men are comrades more attached than brothers, hel2nug each other in their work, bearing each other's burdens, protecting each other from cruelty, comforting and cheering and sympathising with each other, so that when at length, by the last spasm of the Governor's tyranny, each comes to know who the other is, the call of love proves stronger than the cry of hate, and Jason remains with Michael to save him from death, and to carry him in his arms to a place of safety after an outbreak of a volcanic mountain, and everybody else has fled. LAST ACT The last Act shows how Greeba is brought back to the circle of afiection which now unites the half- brothers whose love for her had divided them. Michael, who has been temporarily blinded by a shaft from a solfatara and re-captured after Jason had rescued him, is exiled to a lonely island called (for obvious reasons) "St. Helda." There he is in the charge of the priest to the little community, a jierson whom he had befriended in the period of his power. Greeba is there also in the disguise of the priest's housekeeper (a noiseless spirit about the house, never speaking in the presence of the blind prisoner) having come to watch over and comfort her husband, though he knows nothing of her identity, and to wait for the time when his love shall return to her and she may reveal herself to him. A wax'-ship lies at anchor out- side to see that Michael does not escape, and just x!v A UTHOR'S NOTE ■when rumour reaches the island that efforts are being made on the mainland to overthrow the old Governor again (as well as his master the King of Naples) and secure the return of the young President, an English mail-steamer brings out a new crew for the man-of- war, with certain fresh orders that concern the prisoner. It also brings out a broken wreck of a man who has smuggled his way up to the priest's house unobserved. This is Jason, who still loves Greeba, but has abandoned hope of her, and, having been the means of dividing husband and wife, is there to unite them and help them to escape. He sees Greeba first and tells her that he has taken two berths on the English steamer for the homeward voyage, and contrived a means by which she and Michael shall use them. Next he sees the priest and makes pretence of an effort to enable Michael to regain his sight, by begging that the blind man shall be allowed to steal away for a short pei-iod to be operated upon by a great doctor in Palermo. Finally he sees IMichael and pretends to bring a message from Greeba hei^self, who is said to be dying at home in Man, and calling him to come to her, if only for one day, to give her his forgiveness. One by one, with artifice and subterfuge, by pleas and threats and generous lies, Jason has his way, and joining the hands of Greeba and Michael, though his own heart is breaking, he sends them off to happiness and safety, while he remains behind as bondman to the old priest in the prisoner's place. Husband and wife having gone, Jason writes them a letter saying he has escaped (therefore they have no reason to come back), and then calls the priest AUTHOR'S NOTE xv and reveals the truth. The order the new crew are bringing out is an order for Michael's execution, and Jason is there to die instead of him. The priest pro- tests and Jason explains. He loves his brother's ^ife — what life is there for him without her ? Since his escape from the Sulphur Mines he has been drinking himself to death — isn't it better to die in bringing two sundered hearts together than to be found dead in a ditch some day ? The officers of the new crew come with the warrant, present it to Jason (not knowing him from Michael) and Jason only begs to be permitted to wave his adieux from the cliff to his friends of the old crew who are going off in the departing steamer. As he goes out for this purpose he is recognised by the Governor who has followed his order to see it executed (being suspicious of all his servants), and is now made to realise that his victim has escaped, and that while he has come there to gratify his lust of hatred against his enemy, his own child's child, his outcast daughter's outcast son, has come before him to lay down his life for his friend. In shame and fear the old man tears up the warrant for Michael's execution and orders the officers back to the war-ship, leaving Jason on the island as a free prisoner in his brother's place. FINAL TABLEAU The drama, which opens at Drury Lane Theatre with a tableau showing Jason as a sailor escaping from his ship in Man to carry out his errand of vengeance upon Michael, closes with a tableau in Sicily showing Jason on a rocky headland, in the xvi AUTHOR'S NOTE character of his brother's bondman, waving farewell to the departing steamer that is taking Michael and Greeba to home and happiness. When the steamer has disappeared there is nothing left but the lonely figure on the topmost point of the lonely coast, with seagulls screaming above him and the waves beating on the rocks below. But the Christian ideal has triumphed, and the man who came to slay has stayed to save. 'l-'.i!:.'j^.^; .^■-.,^....^v^...^.:^.^>>.- . MR. HALL CAINE. Frontisjiit'ce THE BONDMAN THE FIRST ACT An Opening Picture represents a market- place in the Isle of Man. It is evening, and the scene is strongly illuminated hy the setting sun. There is a glimpse of the harbour loith the ruins of a picturesque castle on right, and a view of the sea on left, loith a feet of fishing-hoats sailing out. The market-place is filled with hawkers^ barroios and stalls, hut the market is over for the day and the hawkers are packing up and going off. A steamer sails into the bay and turns as if coming to anchor. Suddenly a gun is fired from the steamer. The people in the market-place stop in their work and look off. Presently a Man, a Seaman, appears on the seaward side of the scene and pushes his way through the crowd, as if conscious that he is pursued. He is a laild, distraught creature, bare- footed, and apparently wet as if he has been swimming ashore. For one moment he is plainly seen, and the^i he disappears. Immediately behind come Four Coastguards- men, armed, and in pursuit. The People in the 2 THE BONDMAN act l market-place, w7io have been watching and talking eagerly, jioint out the direction in which the fugitive has escajyed, and the Coastguard follow in hot haste. There are confused murmurs and cries, the harrows are hurriedly wheeled off, the market-place empties, the sun sets over the line of the sea, darkness begins to fall^ and the scene changes. The Acting Scene represents the hall of a farm house ; a comfortable, almost luxurious, chamber, half-timbered. White walls, dresser, press, cabinet, clock, corner -cupboard, chest, all of black oak. There is a staircase on right leading ujy to a land- ing, from which doors open into bedrooms. A dx}or downstage at foot of staircase on right; a larger door on right imider landing, standing ojyen and showing a distant view of the scene in the picture. At back a broad windoio, with window- hoard ; on left a wide ingle with a door at back of it. A log and turf fire is burning on the hearth. Big aiin-chairs and big dining-table. A cottage piano or harpsichord. A telescope in the window recess. When the scene ojyens an Old Man {the Grand- father), in the costume of a sea captain, is looking through the telescoj)e ; two children (Danny and Mona) are playing on the windoiv-board, and the servant (Christian Ann) is packing traveller's trunk near the middle of the floor. Christian Ann. [Counting shirts out of basket into a trunk.^ Eight, nine, ten — enough for the voyage, at all events. ACT I THE BONDMAN 3 Grandfather. [LooJcing through telescope.'] Here she is at last f MONA. [Leaping down."] The ship ? Grandfather. The steamer cousin Michael is to sail in. Danny. Let me look at her, Grandpa 1 Grandfather. Fetch up the stool, then, while I fix you the focus. There she is, swinging to an anchor in the bay. MONA. Will she stay long. Grandpa ? Grandfather. Two hours at most — just long enough for three bells, and the passengers to get aboard. Christian Ann. [Countmg coUm's.] Yes, Miss Greeba has seen to his shirts and collars, but who is to do for the man in foreign parts, I wonder I [I'here is a loud boom of a gun; EYBRTBODy startled. Danny. [ At the telescope.] The ship's busted. I can't see nothing but smoke, Grandpa. 4 THE BONDMAN act I 'Grandfather. Let me look at her again, laddie. [The doors of bedrooms open, and Michael SuNLOCKS, Adam Fairbrother, and Mrs. Fairbrother, in various stages oj undress, appear on the landing. Michael. What's that ? Adam. What's amiss ? Mrs. Fairbrother. Sakes alive 1 Can't somebody speak ? What's the matter ? Grandfather. [At telescope.^ It's the steamer — the steamer from Sicily. She came to an anchor a few minutes ago, and now she's signalling to the shore. Michael. Something must have happened. Grandfather. Something has happened, sir ; she's talking to the Coastguard. Adam. What's she saying ? You're an old sailor — what's she saying, grandfather ? ACT I THE BONDMAN 5 Grandfather. She's saying — What's this? [Spelling.'] D — E — S — E — R — T — £ — R ! Michael. Deserter I Grandfather. Wait I She says. [S2Jelli7ig .] C — a -— p — T — u — R — E . . . Yes, she says, one of her crew has jumped overboard, and she's telling the coast- guard to capture him. [Enter John Robert, a farm hand — v&ry smalls John Robert, I saw it myself, Cap'n ! I was putting the mare into the stiflf cart when I saw the man dive. He went over the stern as the steamer was fetching round, and swam away like a porpoise. [Enter John 3 kut^s,, another farm hand — very big. John Jambs. The man has landed on Contrary now, and he's climbing the cliffs like a steeple-jack. Michael. Some poor fellow who is tired of the tyranny of the foc's'le, perhaps. [Goes back. Adam. Or some poor soul who is tired of his life, maybe. [Goes back. 6 THE BONDMAN act I Mrs. Fairbrother. Some dirty, idle raggabash who wants to shirk his work, more likely. We've enough of the sort in these parts already, and I hope he'll be caught quick and carried back. [Goes in. Danny. Let's look at him, Grandpa. Grandfather, Ease up, little ones. [Grandfather and Children go out. Farm Hands come down to assist Christian Ann, John James. So he's going away alone, after all, Christian Ann. Christian Arm. Is he ? Then sit yourself on this trunk while I turn the key in the lock, my man. John Robert. "We thought there might be a wedding before he went, and Mistress Greeba might be going along with him. Christian Ann. Did you? Then reach me that rope and make yourself useful, John Robert, But now the man is going off to the ends of the earth, and goodness knows if he will ever come back to her. ACT 1 THE BONDMAN 7 Christian Ann. Wrong again, John Robert 1 Michael Sunlocks will be iiome in two years' time, so just lash that rope around this box, unless you want it to hang yourself. John James. Two years is long, though — long enough for the man to get another woman in the country he's going to. JonN Robert. And long enough for the woman to get another man where he's leaving her behind him. John James. Out of sight, out of mind ; that's the way with the women, John Robert. Love them or leave them, but don't trust them no further than you can touch them — that's my motto. [Mrs. Fairbrother comes down stairs. Mrs. Fairbrother. Where there's geese there's dirt, and where thei'e's servants there's talking. Away with these things to the harbour, or the man will be missing his passage, or else losing his luggage. John Robert and John James. Yes, ma'am ! Mrs. Fairbrother. Where's Miss Greeba ? 8 THE BONDMAN act i Christian Ann. In her bedroom, dressing. Mrs. Fairbrother, Is she going to the quay, then 2^ Christian Ann. No, ma'am ! She's afraid she might break down at the last moment, and then people would be talking. Mrs. Fairbrother. Did she say so ? Christian Ann. Not to say say, ma'am ... 1 Mrs. Fairbrother. Tell her she'll have to give the children their supper and put them to bed, while you slip across to Callow's to order the mill for to-morrow. Christian Ann, Yes, ma'am ! Mrs. Fairbrother. Bring the dogcart round first, and don't forget the market basket. I'll drive down to town with the master and Mr. Michael, and bi'ing up the provisions myself. Christian Ann. But won't Miss Greeba be afraid to be left alone in the house at night, ma'am ? ACT I THE BONDMAID 9 Mrs. Fairbrother. Chut ! She'll have her grandfather, won't she ? And what has the girl to be afraid of — is it bogganes or fairies ? [Grandfather and the Children return. Christian Ann goes out by lower door right. Grandfather. He has gone, Ruth — paid his debt to them with the fore-topsail. Mrs. Fairbrother. Who has ? Grandfather. The deserter from the ship Michael Sunlocks is to sail by. Mrs. Fairbrother. That raggabashl Danny. Nancy Kinnish saw him as he ran across the mai'ket-place, mother. MONA. He was dripping wet, mamma, and looked like a big drownded monkey. Danny. The coafetguard are chasing him with guns. I'm going to tell cousin Michael,. 10 THE BONDMAN act i Mrs. Fairbrother. Then tell him it's only ten minutes wanting seven, and he has no time to waste if he wants to catch his steamer. MONA. Yes, mamma ! \lhe Children run upstairs and disappear into Michael's bedroom. The cart goes by filled with luggage. Grandfather. Why does he want to catch it ? Mrs. Fairbrother. Don't ask me, father. Grandfather. Why does he want to go adrift from his moorings ? Mrs. Fairbrother. The young man might do better at home, if you ask my opinion. Grandfather. Captain of the Laxey lead mine at six-and-twenty — ^isn't that good enough for anybody ? Mrs. Fairbrother. And if it isn't, here is this fine old farm going to waste for want of the right man to marry the girl and manage it properly. ACT I THE BONDMAN II Grandfather. And what's he getting instead of it ? The place of engineer at the sulphur mines on one of the God- forsaken islands of Sicily, Mrs. Fairbrother. Going further to fare worse, I say. Grandfather. I've sailed to such places in my time, and I know what they are, daughter. No ginger-bread quarters I can tell you ! Mrs. Fairbrother. Convict settlements, seemingly* Grandfather. In the midst of volcanoes too — smoking and smell- ing like pits of hell. And then the people . . , Mrs. Fairbrother. Brigands, they tell me. Grandfather. As thick as flies in a honey-pot. Always rioting and rising in rebellion and upsetting the Government. There'll be trouble there some day, mark my word for it. Mrs. Fairbrother. There'll be trouble here, too, if Adam Fairbrother goes on neglecting the farm for his class-leading and colloguing and quoting Scripture night and day. 12 THE BONDMAN act i Grandfather. He can't help it, Ruth. He has swallowed the Old Book — he can't help bringing it up again. [Adam Fairbrother comes out of his bedroom, knocks at Michael's door. Adam. Ready to sail, Michael, my man ? Michael. \Within.'\ I'm ready. Adam. [^Coming downstairs.'] May we all be ready for the great sailing when we leave the harbour of life and put out to sea. \_Knocking at Greeba's door.] Greeba 1 Greeba. iWUhin.] I'm coming father. Adam. Ah! vanity of vanities, all is vanity! The dear girl is putting on her pretty things that Michael may think of her at her best. Well, what does Jeremiah say, " Can a maid forget her ornaments ? " Mrs. Fairbrother. ■ Easy enough if they're not worth remembering. But that's just where you ruin your children, Adam Fairbrother. Adam. Don't say that, mother. ACT I THE BONDMAN 13 Mrs, Fairbrother. But I do say it — dressing them up like dolls and sending them to schools and colleges, instead of teaching them to work in the fields and the dairy, as their mother did before them, and to look for husbands among such as are willing to live on the land, not fly away to foreign countries. Adam. Maybe so, maybe so. But don't say it above your breath to-night, Ruth, or the poor boy will be broken- hearted. He's had enough to do to keep a good face to-day, and if we leave him to think — just when they're going to be parted — that while he is away Mrs. Fairbrother. Tut I Adam. Hush ! Here he is — here are both of them! [Michael comes downstairs, with the Chil- dren hanging about him. Grbeba comes out of her room, followed hy Christian Ann. At the same moment a bell rings in the distance. Mrs. Fairbrother. And there's the bell of the steamer, so we had better be off if we're going. Michael. Only the first bell, Mrs. Fairbrother. Time enough yet. And now that we're all here together I have something to say 14 THE BONDMAN ACT I Mrs. Fairbrother, Let Christian Ann slip round for the dog-cart then, and take the children away with her. Ofl' with you 1 Christian Ann. Yes, ma'am, Danny. Nancy says he's fiercer nor a ferret and bigger nor John James — fifty times bigger — yes, five times bigger. Mrs. Fairbrother. Who is? The deserter what the coastguard are chasing with Danny. le deserter what tl guns, Mrs. Fairbrother, That raggabash again ! What on earth is the man to me ? Away you go ! [Christian Ann and th^ Children run out. Mrs. Fairbrother closes the door. Michael places chair for Greeba. All Beat themselves. Michael, I've never yet told you why I'm going away, and it is only right I should tell you now. Adam. As you please, sir ; as you please ACT I THE BONDMAN ij Michael. Naturally you think it's only to advance myself in life — to find a home for Greeba, even if it's far away and in a foreign country. Mrs, Fairbrothek. And isn't it ? Adam Why not, wife, why not ? Michael. It's that certainly ; but I have another reason, and I've said nothing about it yet — nothing to anybody, not even to Greeba herself. Grandfather. Is it a secret then ? Michael. Another man's secret, Grand-dad. Adam. Another man's, you say ? Michael. My poor father's. Adam. I knew him. A good, Christian man, and a right gentleman, if ever there was one. Michael. So everybody thought and said. i6 THE BON DMA M act i Mrs. Fairbrother, And wasn't he ? Michael. He was a good father to me, Mrs. Fairbrother — it isn't for his son to say otherwise. He was a good husband to my mother also, and she lived and died respecting him. Adam. I knew her too — a real lady — under the sod these teens of 'years — and the man that fond of the woman, he never saw the sun from the day she died. Michael. He had his secret fault, for all that — one of those dark passages of his early days which a good man sometimes keeps shut and sealed from the eyes of everybody. Adam. Lord bless me ! Stephen the Ballamoar ! "Vicar's Warden, too, I don't know the years 1 Mrs. Fairbrother. Dear heart alive, Adam, can't you let the young man tell his story ? Michael, My father was not a native of this place. Adam. True enough—" Stephen the Foreigner " we called him fiist. r MRS. PATRICK CAMPBELL. ACT I THE BONDMAN 17 Michael. He was born in Sicily and came here in the days Avhen trade between the two islands was better than it is now. Grandfather. Oranges and lemons— I was in it myself, Ruth, when I sailed the old fruit-clipper to Palermo. Michael. When he left his own country, he left it in dis- grace. Adam. Money, I'll go bail 1 Michael. Worse than that, Mr. Fairbrother. Mrs. Fairbrother. Worse ? Michael. He had deceived a woman. Grandfather. God bless my soul I Adam. I thought he was a one-woman man, and hadn't eyes for anybody, Mrs. Fairbrother. Some hussy, perhaps^; some slut, some servant B i8 THE BONDMAN act i Michael. No ; she was a good girl, it seems, and daughter of the Governor of Ustica in the worst days of the King- dom of Naples. Grandfather. I remember the man — Tommasso Testa — a real rascal — ^and living still, they're telling me. Michael. He was a hard man, at all events, and when he discovered the disgrace his daughter had brought on his family he flung her out of the house. Adam. Groodness mercy I Michael. She had given birth to a child, a boy, and my father, God foi'give him, behaved badly to both of them. Adam. The heart of man is deceitful, sir, and desperately wicked. Michael. He didn't intend to desert them, but being poor, he came abroad to make money, expecting to go back and make amends. Grandfather. He never did go back, though ? ACT I THE BONDMAN 19 Michael. Never ! In this island he married another woman, my mother, and had another son, myself, and from that time forward the doors of his former hfe were locked to him. Adam. Just so, sir, just so, Michael. He lived to have houses and lands and to become honoured and beloved in the country of his adoption, but he was always tormented by the thought that down in the dregs of life these two might be living still, alone, neglected, and despised. Adam. That's how it is, sir — it isn't our houses we live in, but our hearts, and your father's was full of trouble. Mrs. Fairbrother. Serve him right, I say. The man who has sinned deserves to suffer. Michael. He did suffer. He suffered to the last day of his life, and when he came near to the end he sent for me and told me everything. Mrs. Fairbrother. Your father did ? Your father told you that story ? Why in the world did he do that, I wonder ? 20 THE BONDMAN act i Michael. In the hope that what he had never been able to do for himself, his son might perhaps do for him. Mrs. Fairbrothee. Befrii^nd the woman he had deserted and the child he had left f;itherless. Michael. That's what he asked me to do, Mrs. Fairbrother. Mrs. Fairbrother. He asked the son of his wedded wife to stand friend to his — well, his bastard ? Michael. Yes. Mrs. Fairbrother. Then I hope you refused. Michael. No ; my father was dying. I promised to do it. Mrs. Fairbrother. You should have remembered your mother, my man. Michael. I did remember her, Mrs. Fairbrother, and that's why I couldn't forget the woman whose place she had taken, and the pain she would have sufl'ered if she had known anything about it. ACT I THE BONDMAN 21 Mrs. Fairbrother. You should have thought of yourself, then — your mother's lawful bora son. Michael. I thought of myself, too, and that's why I couldn't but think of the other son I had supplanted. Adam. So you promised the poor dying man Michael. I promised him that, God willing, I would find the woman my father had wronged and be a son to her for my mother's sake. Adam. But if she was dead and gone, poor soul ? Michael. Then I promised to find her boy and be a brother to him, for the sake of my father and perhaps myself. Adam. And that's what you mean to do now, Michael ? [Michael hov)s. God bless you ! It's Hagar and Ishmael over again ! Only the son of Sarah is to save the son of the bondwoman. Michael. I couldn't do it before, Mr. Fairbrother. I was young when my father died, and it wasn't at first I 22 THE BONDMAN act I saw my way clearly. But when the college of mining, knowing my connection with Sicily, secured me this post on the Island of Ustica, it was like Fate — I felt bound to obey. ADAMi You had to follow the spirit's leading — you couldn't help yourself. Michael. It wasn't easy to me though, for in the meantime I had begun to live my own life, and my promise to my father was fighting with the duty I owed to myself. It is fighting with it still. That's why I have told you this story. Adam, I know, I know. MlCHAELJ I have signed for two years only, but even two years is a long time to be away when one is building all one's hopes on coming back. Adam. Yes, yes, a man's heart may be pretty stout, but tome is home. Michael. [Taking Greeba's Jiand and standing by her.] Mr. Faiibrother, Mrs. Fairbrother, Grandfather, my home, my heart, my life is here. I have to leave it with you. Give me your word that no man shall rob me of it while I am abroad. ACT I THE BONDMAN 23 Adam. I give you my word, and welcome. No harm shall come to the girl while you are away — none, if I know it. MicnAEL. Give me your word, too, Mrs. Fairbrother. Mrs. Fairbrother. If my heart were here, I shouldn't go away if I were you. Michael. I must. I could never forgive myself if I forgot the promise I made to my father. Mrs, Fairbrother, Let every bird hatch its own eggs, my lad. Grandfather. I agree with my daughter. Let every man stand on his own head, I say. Mrs. Fairbrother. The woman and son your father left in his own country are nothing to us, and if Greeba has to wait while you go to find them . . . Michael. That's past praying for now, Mrs. Fairbrother, I must go in any case, and I'll do my work, whatever happens. But Greeba is everything to me, and if 1 came back to find she was promised — perhaps married •= — to another man . . . 24 THE BONDMAN act i Mrs. Fairbrother. If I were afraid of that, I shouldn't go at all — I shouldn't think to go. Michael. [Affectionately.'] Don't say that, Mrs. Fairbrother. You've been like a mother to me since my father died, and I came to live in your house. But in two years so many things may happen, so many chances may befall. Mother ! Grand-dad ! Only give me your faithful word for it that nothing you ever do or say will be intended to take Greeba away from me, and that if I come back in two years' time . . . Mrs. Fairbrother. If you come back in two years' time, you shall be welcome, if the girl is willing. Michael. That's good enough for me, mother. And now, Greeba I You have given your word already, dear, but a man is a child when he is going on a long journey and leaving all he loves behind him, so give me your hand on it again. Greeba. \Who has'heen listening intently during the v^kole of the foregoing scene.'] I gave you my promise a year ago, Michael, and I haven't regretted it for a moment. I have always loved you, but never as I do to-day, and as long as you are true to me, there is nothing ACT I THE BONDMAN 25 but death can part us. I've never seen the man who could take me from you. I never have and I never shall, Michael. [Eagerly.] Swear it, Greeba, swear it before every- body. Greeba. [Leaping into his arms.] Never ! So help me God! Michael. I believe you ! I trust you ! I love you ! And may the red blight fall on this hand and arm if any other woman ever comes between you and me ! [Disengaging himself and dashing the tears from his eyes.] Shame on me ! I'm only a woman of a man after all you see. But I feel strong enough to go now. [Looking around the house.] Good-bye everything and everybody ! How I shall think of all this when I'm far away ! The old house that has been my home these three years, and the good souls who are waiting for me here ! Adam. [Wi2nng his eyes.] Chut, man ! It's only a hop, skip, and a jump, you know. Grandfather. Turn the clock back a piece, and I'll go with you myself, Michael. Michael. It's nothing, I know ; going away for two years is nothing, but it gets at a man's heart for all that. 26 THE BONDMAN act i Grandfather. You'll weather it out, Sir ! The girl will have hold of your tow-rope, and haul you home again fast enough. Michael. Good-bye, Grandfather! Go up to your crow's nest outside, and you'll see the lights of our ship as she steams out of the bay. Where are the children 2 Mrs. Fairbrother. \_LooJchig of.] Here thoy are, Micheal. [The dog-cart is driven round by Christian Ann, and the Children, laughing and chattering, come running in. Old Pkople take up their hats and go out. Greeba goes to the piano. Michael. [Lifting the Children in his arms one hy one?^ Helloa ! Danny will be a big man by the time I come back, but I must bring him a humming-top for all that. And Mona will be a dear little woman, but I'll fetch her a doll from the far country. [Greeba begins to jo^«y very softly " Home, Sweet Home." Michael d7'02)s the Chil- dren. They run up and out. Michael, [Listening to the mii,sic.'] Don't break my heart, Greeba. I'm trying to crush down the foreboding that something will happen while I am away, and it isn't easy. ACT 1 THE BONDMAID 27 Greeba. [^Rising and coming to him.'] ISTothmg will happen, Michael. I want you to be thinking of home and to be always longing to retiu^n to it ; but nothing will happen between you and me — no coolness or mistrust or estrangement — nothing 1 Michael. Then nothing can happen at all — nothing in this world. Oh, what a coward a man is when he loves a girl lilce this. Greeba ! God bless you and keep you while I am away ! Greeba. Good-bye, dear ! Michael. Greeba, put the lamp in the window when you hear the last bell, and I'll see it as we sail out of the bay. " Greeba is there," I'll think ; " she's thinking of you, Michael." Greeba. Have pity on us both, Michael. Good-bye i [Kissing him, Michael. Again ! For the last time ! Good-bye ! \With a cry that seems to tear his heart, he runs out and leaps into the dog-cart. Adam. [Driving.'] Ready? Let her go then. [The dog -cart goes off., amid shouts and cheers from the Old Man and the Children, who follow it afoot. 28 THE BONDMAN act i [Greeba stands in the middle of the floor alone, helpless, all her courage oozing avoay. Christian Ann comes hack and bustles about, lighting lamp and laying table. It is growing darh. Christian Ann. Well, I'm not much of a woman for a man myself — they're only poor helpless creatures at the best — but if I had to put up with one of their persuasion, it's somebody of that soi't I should have — somebody that loves a girl shocking, and isn't ashamed to show it. Greeba. \With a helpless crT/.] My Michael has gone over the sea ! Oh, what shall I do ? What shall I do ? Christian Ann. Don't take on like that, Miss Greeba. It's cruel hard when the ocean has to roll between two loving hearts, but better that than worse should divide them — jealousy and deceit and such like. Mr. Michael is true. There's only one woman in the world for him. If he had to travel to the end of the world he wouldn't see a petticoat from here to Timbuctoo. Greeba. God bless you for that. Christian Ann ! It's the one drop of dew that has fallen on me to-day. Michael will come back ! Christian Ann. Of course he will, miss, and then you'll be cried in y ACT I r^£ BONDMAN 29 church, and sing " Hail, smiling Morn ! " with the best of them. I have to slip across to Callow's to order the mill, but I'll put on the porridge for the old man and the children, and you'll only have to give them their supper and send them to bed. Them Callow girls — they're pretty beauties ! When they're not trying to take other people's sweethearts, they're always talking about bogganes and fairies. There — you've nothing to do now but to pour it out, while I slip on my sun-bonnet and fetch the children's night- dresses. [Christian Ann goes in left, as Grandfather and Children return to the house, Danny en Grandfather's back. Greeba pours porridge from 2^ot into basins. Grandfather. Too late to see the ship from the crow's nest to-night, so we'll say good-bye to her from our bed- rooms. Mona. [Quarrelling with Danny.] Cousin Michael didn't see you last. Danny. He did. Mona. He didn't. Greeba. Don't quarrel to-night, dearies, but eat your por- ridge and get yourselves undressed. [Re-enter Christian Ann, in ?un bonnet. 30 THE BONDMAN act i Christian. Here are their nighties, and I'll be back before the mistress gets home to supper. [^Rangs night dresses on a "maiden" and goes out, closi'iog door behind her. Grandfather. [Uatiyig.] Ah ! home is a full cup, but it wouldn't have taken much to make me go along with him. It's a wild country though, and what with their Mafias and their murders, you never know what may happen. Hagar and Ishmael I The lad's doing right to look for them. They're his kith and kin, and the man who can't waim to his own flesh and blood Greeba. It's good of you to say that, grandfather. Mother was so hard on him. Grandfather. Tut ! A woman's tongue — who cares about a blow from that ? She has nothing else to hit with, bless her ! Tomasso Testa, though ! The other son can't be much worth saving, if that's the ilk he comes of. [Eising.] A light supper makes an easy bed. Good- night, Greeba ! Greeba, Good-night, grandfather 1 [Exit Grandfather. [Meantime the Children have Jinished their supper and undressed. Mona is kneeling at Greeba's knee. ACT 1 THE BONDMAN 31 MoNA, l^Saymg her prayers.^ " Dear Father, whom I cannot see, Smile down from heaven on little me, Let angels through the darkness spread Their holy wings about my bed, And keep me safe, because I am My Heavenly Shepherd's little lamb." Danny. [Kneeling by Mona.] " God bless father and mother and grandfather and Greeba and Mona and Christian Ann — and " [Looking u]).] Anybody else ? Mona. [Looking up.] Cousin Michael, stupid I Danny. " And Cousin Michael — he's going away to Sicily." Greeba. '* And bring him safely home again " Danny. "And don't not let him forget my humming-top." Mona. " And my dolly." Greeba. " God guard this house throughout the night . . ." 32 THE BONDMAN act r MoNA and Danny. [Together.] "And keep it safe till morning light. A.iiien." [The Children jump \q). Greeba takes lamp. Mona. God will have lots to do to-iight, won't He, Grieeba ? Greeba. Yes, indeed, dearie. [They go into room on right. [The stage is empty. It is now dark and there is no light hut the red glow from the turf fio'e. The second hell of the steamer rings in the distance. Then the outer door opens stealthily, and a face looks in. It is the fugitive Sailor, who was seen in the picture. His eyes are wild ; his hair tangled ; his clothes torn ; he has the look of a hunted dog. He Cfreepsin, leaving the door 02)en, listens, looks round ; sees the table laid out with food, goes up to it and eats voraciously — all the while listening and watching. During this silent scene Greeba returns, carrying the lamp and humming softly, " Home, sweet Home.^^ She puts the lamp on the window-hoard and looks out into the darkness ; then, turning about, she sees the Fugitive, half starts in terror at the sinister apparition, and stands with open mouth, as if unable to utter a cry. Mean- time the Man has seen the Girl, and after MR. ATITHUR COLLINS. ACT I THE BONDMAN 33 watching her for a moment, he makes for the door. But he has only advanced a feio paces when GEEEBA's/ace becomes calm, and she boldly steps between, Greeba. Who are you ? Jason. [With the growl of a wild least ^ Let me go ! Greeba. What did you come here for ? Jason. Can't you see ? — food and drink. Greeba. Then why didn't you ask for it ? Jason. [Looking astonished.'] Ask ? Greeba. If you are hungry, sit down and eat, Jason. [With a look of stupefaction.'] You tell me to sit down and eat ? Greeba. [Taking up the pot and pouring out -porridge.] There is some porridge left, and here is some milk fresh from the cows. 34 THE BONDMAif act i Jason. Wait a moment 1 Are you alone in this house ? Greeba. Except for two children and an old man. Jason. How do you know I am not a thief or a murderer ? Greeba. Sit down at the table. Jason. You are only a woman, a girl, yet you are not afraid of me ? Greeba. You are a man. A man doesn't hurt a woman — it's only a brute — a beast. You are hungry and thirsty. Sit down — you are welcome. Jason. Hold on — this will not do. First let me tell you what I am. I am a deserter from the steamer that's anchored in the bay. You would hear the gun they fired when I went overboard. Your bluejackets are after me, and I've knocked down a gond many to get away from them. [Fiercdy.] They shan't have me, if I can help it. No, by God ! But if they take me here, it will be an ugly business, and you may get into trouble. ACT I THE BONDMAN 35 Gkeeba. Sit down and take your supper. Jason. [Softening.] You mean it ? You are willing to let me stay ? You tell me to eat 1 Is this an inn ? What are you ? Greeba. This is my father's house — I am my father's daughter. [ffe hesitates, then sits down, tries to eat; stops ; his face is marked with emotion ; his eyes wander about the room, then come hack to Gkeeba. Greeba, You are not eating. Jason. I can't eat. I felt frightfully hungry when I cam© into this house, having eaten nothing all day, but I don't know what I feel now — it has passed over. [He shudders. Greeba. You are cold ? Jason. I swam ashore from the ship — my clothes are not yet dry. Greeba. [Turning another chair.] Come up to the fire and warm yourself. 36 THE BONDMAN act i Jason. [Taking the new chair.] Your family are out ? Greeba. [Throwing fresh logs on the Jlre.] Yes, they have gone down to the harbour to see a friend away by the steamer. Jason. The steamer ? A friend ? Greeba. A gentleman who has been living with us for three years and is now going to Sicily. Jason. Sicily ? Greeba. Is that where you come from ? Jason. Yes Who is he ? Greeba. A young engineer. He is to be head of the sulphur mines in Ustica. You know them, perhaps ? Jason. [With a shudder.] I do. Greeba. Convict mines, are they not ? ACT I THE BONDMAN 37 Jason. [Again with a shudder.] Yes^ Greeba. You come from Sicily — yet you speak the English language. How is that ? Jason. I served my time on an English ship, and besides [Rising.l But I must go — your family will be back soon. Greeba. You look tired and cold — stay till you are warm and rested. Jason. You are very kind to me — nobody has ever been kind to me befoie. Greeba. Nobody ? Jason. Only one — only one in all the world. Greeba. Is that your wife ? Jason. I have no wife. Greeba. Your sister ? Jason. [In a breaking voice.] It was my mother. 38 THE BONDMAN act I Greeba. Is she dead then ? Jason. [With a sjnothered sohJ] Yes. Greeba. You have suffered. What is your name ? Jason. Jason. Gkeeba. Who is your father ? Jason. I have no father — none I ever knew. Greeba. Did he die in your childhood ? Jason. No. Gaeeba. And yet you never knew him ? Jason. Never. Greeba. [Eagerly."] Then — perhaps he had wronged your mother ? ACT I THE BONDMAN 39 Jason. [In a low tone, with a flash of rage.] Yes, God curse him I He was a low-born man and she was the daughter of the Governor . . . [Breaking off.] But what does that concern you ? Greeba, [More eagerly.] It does concern me. Jason. He deceived and wronged her, and then fled away to another country. Her father cast her off, and she was left alone. That was soon after I was born, and through all the years that followed hope in her poor heart fought with fear, and fear with love. He would come back some day and make it up to her even yet. So she used to go down to the beach and watch and watch for the ships that came from foreign ports. Greeba. [With a look of apprehension.] Ah I Jason. One day an English schooner came to Ustica. Greeba. Ustica ? Jason. "He is coming in that," she said. "Something tells me he is coming in that ship at Last." Greeba. He didn't come ? 40 THE BONDMAN act I Jason, [Fiercely/.] No, but news of him did. In the country he had gone to he had married another woman and she had borne him another son. Gkeeba. Oh! Jason, My mother's heart was broken. She never raised her head again. But before she died she called me to her. " Jason," she said, " I gave him all — I took a father's curse for him. If you ever meet your own father, remember what your mother has borne for him." And then in a whisper — there was none but God and me to hear — " Remember 1 " Greeba. Oh ! Oh 1 Jason. [hi the paroxysm of passion, his eyes filling loith tears and flashing with the lust of vengeance.^ My father had killed my mother ! Not in a day or an hour, but in twenty long years ! Then I swore an oath before heaven : *' I will hunt the world over until I find that man, and when I have found him I will kill him ! If he should die and we should never meet, I will hunt the world over until I find his son, and when I have found him I will kill him for what his father did to my mother — yes, by God I will. [Greeba listens with a look of horror. There is a moments silence. ACT I THE BONDMAN 41 Greeba. [Breaihiesshj.] Is that why you have come here ? [He nods his head. Why you have deserted your ship ? [Re nods again. Then your father is living on this island ? No ? [He shakes his head. Jason. He did live here, but he is dead. I heard that in the last port we called at. Greeba. Then why have you come ashore ? Jason. To find his son — the son who has taken my place — supplanted me — robbed me of my birthright. If his father is dead, he is alive; but before he lives much longer he must meet with me. [Greeba rises suddenly, loalhs ivith a jirm step to the outer door, shuts it, locks it and takes out the key. He rises and watches her. Jason. Why did you do that ? Greeba. [Facing him boldly.] To keep you here. Jason. To keep me here I 42 THE BONDMAN act i Greeba. [Impetiwusly.] Until that steamer sails and you cau do no mischief. [He starts. She realises that she has betrayed herself. Jason. [His face undergoing a sudden transition.^ Do you mean . . . What sort of a house is this 2 Greeba. A farmhouse. Jason. What is the name of the farm ? Greeba. Lewaige. Jason. And the name of the man who is sailing to Sicily ? Greeba. What's that to you ? Jason, Is it Michael Sunlocks i [She is silent. Tell me. Greebaj [Firmh/.] I will not. [The hideous expression comes lack to his face and his voice becomes hoarse and formid- able. ACT 1 THE BONDMAN 43 Jason. [Laying hold of the hand which holds the key.'] Give me that key. Greeba. I won't. Jasok. Will you give it up ? Gkeeba. [With a brutal twist he wrests the key out oj her hand arid makes for the door. Jason. [Laughing savjgely.] I was a fool to tell you that story ; but you were right— it did concern you — and the devil himself must have tempted me to talk. Greeba. Where are you going ? Jason. Back to the steamer. Greeba. Ill warn the Captain, Jason. [With a savage glaiice.] You won't! Greeba. He'll punish you. 44 THE BONDMAN act i Jason. Not if I return of myself before the bluejackets take me, [ZZe tears open the outer door and with a monstrous laugh is going out, when a voice is heard outside. Voice. Front and back — surround it. Greeba. [With a look of joy.'] The coastguard ! " [The tramp, tramp, tramp of the Coastguard is plainly heard, Jason. [After drawing hack and listening.] They're here. It's your tiu-n now. Do what you like with me. Gkeeba. [To herself.] Michael's brother 1 [She thinks for a moment, then opens the door of her own room down right. Greeba. [In low voice!] Go in there. [He hesitates.] Quick 1 Jason. [Putting his hand on the knife in his belt.] Take care — remember what I told you. [He goes into the room defiantly. She closes the door behi7id him. Four Coastguards enter, armed as in the picture. ACT I THE BONDMAN 45 First Coastgdard. Has a strange man been here to-night ? Greeba. What do you mean by a strange man ? Second Coastguard. A brutal looking blackguard with bare feet, and scoundrel and cut-throat written all over his face. Greeba. I've seen no such person. Third Coastguard. Knew it was a false report. People on the road said he had run th's >^-ay, so we followed on. Fourth Coastguard. But who would be green enough to come down this cul de sac when he had the mountains to fly to ? First Coastguard. Deserter from the Sicilian steamer, Miss Fair- brother. Under squad articles for a voyage from Palermo and home again. Dangerous man, it seems. Good thing for you he didn't come this way. Second Coastguard. Good thing for him too. If we had caught him here it would have been bread and water and the black hole until he reached home again. That Captain's a Tartar. 46 THE BONDMAN act i Third Coastguard. He'll have to sail without his man this time, though. Third bell will be ringing soon. Let's get back to town, boys. Fourth Coastguard. [After lighting his pipe at Jh-e.] Well, good-night, Miss Fairbrother. SECOTfD Coastguard. Mr. Michael is sailing with the steamer, they say I A right gentleman that — no pride with a poor man. Good night 1 First Coastguard. And if you're alone, you might turn the lock in the door, you know. Good night 1 Greeba. [At door.] Goodnight! [They go off merrily, Greeba listens until the tramp, tramp, tramp of their departing footsteps has died away ; then goes to door right and throws it oj)en. The Man comes out toith a stupefied look, his head down, broken, crushed. Greeba. [Vehe77iently.'\ They are gone, and now you can go too. The man you are looking for is to sail by the ship you have come from. He is my friend, my sweetheart my promised husband, and he expects to come back in two years' time, and then we are to be ACT I THE BONDMAN 47 married. He is also your brother, your father's son, and while you have come here with murder in your evil heart against your father and against him, he is setting out to your own country to save your mother and to help you. Your story is sacred, your secret is safe. Now go, if you have no more man in you — go, if you can, if you dare. [Jason stands as one dif,mh founded. There is a moment of silence, in which he is seen to go through a fierce struggle. Then witlioui a word, and in a state of stupor, he walks towards the door. Half-way up he stops and speaks in a low, broken voice, Jason. I will go, but I will not follow him. I do not wish to follow him now. God forbid that I should hurt one hair of his head, if he is anything to you. While I waited in that room something spoke to me, and now everything is changed. You have never seen me until to-night, yet you have fed and sheltered me. I threatened the life of the man you love, yet you saved me fr-om arrest. I intended to take your own life if you gave me up, yet you protected me from punish- ment. You were brave, but you were merciful, and now you leave me free. God forgive me I God help me I God pity me ! [5(3 goes up to the door and stops again. A strange softening comes over him,. Geeeba is visibly moved. I shall never forget you. You have been very good to me. Nobody else ever has. I haven't a bad heart, but the world has turned me into a brute by cruelty 48 THE BONDMAN act i and wrong. No matter ! When people spurn me and kick me again, I'll think of this house. I'll remember you. Good night ! God bless you ! [He goes out^ leaving the door open. She stands, deeply moved. The lamp which she has placed on the loindow-hoard dies down and goes out. Then the third hell of the steamer rings in the distance. She listens. The voices of Sailors singing as they weigh anchor is heard from the bay. There is a steam whistle, then a moment of silence, and then Christian Ann comes bustling in. Christian Ann. In the dark 1 Has the lamp gone out, then ? Greeba. [With a start. "l Light it again, Christian Ann, Christian Ann. Just what I'm going to do, miss. Greeba. Quickly 1 Christian Ann. As quick as I can pour in the oil. [Attending to lamp.'] The steamer is gone, miss. As I came down the lane she left the harbour, and I waited till she rounded the head. And what do you think ? Such an extraordinary thing 1 When I came to the gate I found a man kneeling on the ground with his face to the house, just sobbing like a child, and when I spoke to him . . . w mi;. hen"i;v aini.?:y as "michakl sum.ocks.' ACT I THE BONDMAN 49 [Voices outside. The dog-cart returns, with lamps lit. Adam and Mrs. Fairbrother enter, followed by the Two Farm Hands. All bustle. Adam. "Well, your boy has gone, Greeba. He sent his last love to you. Good thing you were not there though, for I believe in my heart he would have broken down altogether. Mrs. Fairbrother. Bring in the market basket, John James ; and you stir up the peats, girl, and let's have something to eat. Adam Ah, it isn't everybody that has a good fire and a savoury supper to come home to to-night — that poor deserter, for instance. Mrs. Fairbrother. The lazy raggabash has got clear away. What do you people pay the police for, I wonder ? John Robert. We met the coastguard on the road, ma'am. They had given up the chase and were going back. John James. And now that the steamer has sailed, the rascal can go Scot free, you know. D 50 THE BONDMAN act i Mrs. Fairbrother. Christian Ann, see the doors are bolted front and back to-night. And, John Robert, take care you put padlocks on the barns, too. Adam. Why so ? Are we ki any danger ? Mrs, Fairbrother. Danger, indeed ! With an abomination like that prowling about ! Adam. Who knows what he is, wife ? If he is a rascal he may be repentant, and even if he is a thief he may be penitent. Mrs. Fairbrother. Perhaps you would like to ask him to your own table and lodge him next yourself, then ? Adam. Why not, if he's what I say ? *' There is more joy in heaven over one sinner that repenteth ..." What's that ? [There is a loud, slow hiock at the door. All sUmd a moment. Then Adam valks to the door and opens it. Jason stands on the threshold — a changed man. Jason. I tried to pass your door, sir and I couldn't do so. ACT I THE BONDMAN 51 Adam. Who are you ? Jason. I am a runaway from a ship, and she has gone, and I come to ask for work and shelter. I've no character to show, and there's nobody to speak for me. But something tells me to come to your house. " Good people live there," it says. " It is the home of gentle- ness and pity and love." I am strong, I am well, I am willing to work for my bed and board — wOl you take me in ? Adam. [With emotion, to Ids wife.] Ruth, we have a bed to spare to-night that hasn't been empty these three years. We'll let him sleep in that and talk about work in the morning. [To Jason.] Come in brother 1 You are welcome ! [Jason steps into the house. He looks round until his eyes fall on Greeba. They follow her about loith doglike devotion, as the curtain slowly descends. THE SECOND ACT Scene. — TJie " street " of the Farm. A picturesque group of buildings. " Mansion House," dairy, cow-house, sheds for cattle, stable, entrance to stack- yard, showing corn-stack {half built), pump, water trough, flagstaff, gate to fields and to lanes going right and left. A large tree with a seat under it in foreground. In the background an undulating landscape showing corn-stacks in a new-cut field. When the curtain rises it is early morning and the day is daioning. The mist rises and the grey light gives way to soft sunshine. The air is full of the joyous soionds of nature — running water, the singing of birds, the cawing of rooks, the cooing of doves, the humming of bees, the bleating of sheep, and the lowing of cattle. A bidl's head is seen over the half-door of the bull shed. The blinds in the house are down — nobody is stirring. After a moment a voice is heard in the distance, and Jason appears at the further end of the corn- field singing a merry chorus. He is a changed man. The wild appearance is gone, and a look of content and happiness has taken its place. He is dressed well, in corduroy breeches with red field ACT II THE BONDMAN 53 boots, a red shirt under a jacket hung on one shoulder and a soft straw hat. There is a gun under his arm and some game birds are hanging frovi his belt. A sheep dog follows at his heels. He comes through the gate of the corn-field into the " street " in front of the house, and ichen abreast of the porch he stops singing and speaks to the dog. Jason. [Pointing to the house^ Speak, man ! Waken thenii ! [The dog barks, a window opens, and two little heads appear, MoNA and Danny, both ^ yawning, Jason. Wanted to be wakened early to-day, didn't you, little ones ? Danny. Is it morning already, then ? Jason. Morning it is, laddie — look at the sun on the tops of the corn-stooks. MoNA. [Whispering down,'] Has it come yet, Uncle Jason ? Jason. Has what come, dearie ? MoNA. You know, has it ? 54 THE BONDMAN act il Jason. [Whispering up.] Hush! It came in the night when all the world was asleep. Danny. Where is it now ? Jason. In the cart shed yonder, waiting for two little people to dress it up with flowers. So if you want to take Greeba by sui'prise when we crown her queen Danny. I'm coming down. MONA. Me too. \_The two little heads disappear. Jason goes up to cow-house and nngs a hell that hangs from the roof, crying " Now, hoys 1 Now girls, time to he up 1 " Then he sings to himself again as he takes the birds from his belt. Another window opens and Gkeeba's face appears. He does not see her at first, and to attract his attention she sings a bar of his tune. He looks up, smiles, and takes o^ his hat. Greeba. Out on the hills again, I see. Jason. All Bight long, Grefcl'.] But we'll send for the poor fellow — have him here — in this very room — and show him we are his friends — not his enemies . . . Housekeeper I [He is about to hand Utter to Housekeeper, when Greeba rises and lays her hand on it. Greeba. Michael, I beg, I pray, I entreat you not to bring Jason here. Michael. Jason I How did you know hia name waa Jason? 146 THE BONDMAN act in Greeba. [Overwhelmed with conficsion. She steps down.] Ah 1 [Michael looks after her. Michael. Housekeeper, leave the room for a moment. I have something to say to your mistress. [Housekeeper goes out. Michael comes down to Greeba.] Do you know this man, Greeba ? . . . Ever seen him before ? Ever met him anywhei'e ? Greeba. [Hesitating.'] It is true that I know Jason, I knew him at homa. MiCHABL. At home ? Greeba. You iemembiT there waa a deserter from the ship you came by. Michael. Perfectly. Greeba. That was Jason. He found his way to my father'g house He was three years there. Michael, What did he come for ? Greeba. To carry out the vow of vengeance the priest spoke about. ACT III THE BONDMAN 147 Michael. When he found I had gone, why didn't he follow me? Greeba. Because he had promised to give up his wicked purpose. Michael. Yet after three years he comes back on the same errand ? Greeba, Yes. Michael. Strange 1 Very strange ! Had anything happened in the interval ? [Greeba is sileyii.] Greeba, has this man any claim to you, any right to you, any power over you ? Greeba. [Rising and embracing him.'\ Michael 1 My dear Michael I Let me tell you everything. Michael, Tell me. Greeba. During the long years in which we heard nothing from you there were many false and cruel rumours. Michael. Well? Greeba. They told me you were dead — that you were 148 THE BONDMAN act hi married to another woman — that you had forgotten me. Michael. Well, well ? Greeba. I was so hurt, so helpless. There were the insults of enemies — the importunities of friends MlCKVBL. And then there was Jason ? Gbeeba. Yes, there was Jason, too, so patient, so faithful Michael. He asked you to marry him ? Gbeeba. Yes. Michael. And you — consented ? Greeba. Only for a little while. Your letter came almost immediately, and I begged him to release me, and he did. And that is the truth, the whole truth, dear, as sure as heaven is over us. Michael. [Disengaging himself.] He knew you were waiting for me ? ACT ni THE BONDMAN 149 Greeba. Yes, and he waited too, until there seemed to be nc hope of hearing from you again. Michael. If my letter had not arrived just then you would have been mariied to Jason by this time ? Greeba. Don't say that, Michael. Michael. At all events, he has followed you to avenge him- self on me ? Greeba, Yes. Michael. Then it is no longer the old feud now ? Greeba. No. Michael. Yet you denounced him as a — spy ? Greeba. [Startled.] Michael ! Michael. Knowing that this man came to avenge himself on me for being deserted by you, you denounced him as a spy ? 150 THE BONDMAN act hi Greeba. That was only ♦;o save your life, dear. Michael. Then why were you afraid to let me send for him ? Greeba. [Bi'eathless.] Michael, what are you thinking of I Michael. I am thinking you have deceived me, Greeba — that the oath you took before God to be true to me made you my wife as fast as priest or law could make you —that you have been false to that oath — false to me, and false to the man who has followed you . . . Greeba. Michael 1 Michael. . . . that he has come here to accuse you of your infidelity — to threaten you — to expose you to me . . . Greeba. Michael I Michael. . . . that you have closed his mouth by clapping him in prison, and that when you denounced him as a spy you were not so much protecting my life as your own secret. Greeba. Do you believe that ? ACT HI THE BONDMAN 151 Michael, Deny it, Greeba 1 For God's sake deny it I Grbeba. [With fire and tears in her eyes together.] How dare you ask me to deny it ? ... A few moments ago you wished to bring Jason here, and I begged you not to do so. Now I ask you to send for him. Bring him face to face with me. Ask him if what you say is true. Send for him I I challenge you to send for him! Michael. No, I will not send for him now. I hate him ! I hate him for the deception you have practised upon me 1 I hate him for the tieachery with which he has come between us ! Let him go to prison I Let him live there to the last hour of his life 1 Let me never look upon his face ! [The upper door left is hii^rsi open and the Housekeeper appears in great excitement. Housekeeper. President ! President ! The house is full of soldiers. Some one left the porter's door open. Michael. [Stamping on fioor.] Marshal ! Marshal I [Unter on all sides Soldiers, with Doctor BONI. 152 THE BONDMAN act hi DOCTOE. Too late, sir ! The Marshal has gone with his prisoner to the Sulphur Mines. The Governor is here. [Eriter Testa by porter's door. Governor. [To Michael.] The doors are locked. I arrest you for treason in the name of the King. [A pause. Greeba smks into seat down stage. The Students^ Song is again heard in the street. Michael. May I speak to my wife, sir ? Governor. Quickly then. Michael. [Coming down to Greeba, leaning over her, and speaking in a low voice.^ You were right, Greeba. The man you denounced as a spy has been in league with my enemies. He has betrayed me, and now his friends will get rid of liim also. This is what your false dealing comes to : the man you loved, but did not marry, is a prisoner ; the man you married, but did not love, is a prisoner too — you have wrecked the lives of both. Greeba. [TTtVA a low moan.] Oh ! Oh I Michael. We are man and wife, Greeba, and man and wife ACT III THE BONDMAN 153 we must be always. Save for that I set you free. I cannot ask you to wait for me again. I hoped the woman I married would have shared my fate for better or for worse, whatever it might be. But only love could help you to do that now, Greeba. My dream is over. The threads of our life are broken. We made a mistake — we must make the best of it. Good-bye ! God help both of us ! [iZe turns back to Soldiers. One of them gives him hat and cloak. He puts them, on, takes his place in the ranks^ and is m,arched off". Testa goes last, looking back at Greeba a7id locking the door behind hivi. Greeba rises, looks round, then runs to door. Greeba. [7?i a voice of passionate entreaty.'\ Michael ! Michael I It isn't true. It isn't true. Michael I Michael I [SJispidls at door, finds it fastened, hammers at it ^flings herself against it, finally falls before it. The Students' song swells up as the curtain falls. THE FOURTH ACT Scene : The Sulphur Mines on convict island of Sicily. A jagged volcanic moimtainovs landscape, red and black. Ficrnaces, sulphur kilns, shaft- heads, dec, in the foreground. Smoking mineral springs, boiling mud pools, yellow solfataras. Vl7ien the curtain rises there is a deep subter- ranean roar as of thunder. A cloud of vapour obscures the sun, making it red like a bloodshot eye in a thick white fog. In the midst of this vapour the figures of Men are seen m.oving about like ghosts. They are on differerd heights of the mountain side. The vaptour gradually goes off and shows the Men in canvas trousers, bart feet, linen shirts {bare arms), and coloured handker- chiefs bound about their heads. Warders in uniform, carrying ri/les, are pacing by their sides. On right, dotvn stage, there is a small hut in which tioo of the Warders are seen to he smoking and playing cards. A gang of Prisoners is working on the second tier up. Sounds of pickaxes and spades. Sound of a man's voice singing. It is Jason's voice singing the Stttdents' Song. One of the Warders comes to the door of hut. ACT IV THE BONDMAN ISS Wakder. Stop that, B25. Jason, All right, sir 1 Not supposed to sing a bit to keep my pecker up ? "Wardee, Certainly not. Jason. Not to speak to my pals here — my fellow prisoners ? Warder. You're supposed to speak to nobody except your "Warder. And only to him when you are spoken to. [Warder goes back. Jason. [Laughing bitterly.] Thought we were a lot of blasted ghosts flitting about in the fumes of hell, [Prisoners laugh. Another subterranean roar. First Convict. [To Jason.] What a hell it is, matey 1 Listen 1 Jason. The old prisoner in the bowels of the eaith is growling again, is he ? [A shaft of steam leaps up from solfatara in front. First Convict. And look there 1 IS6 THE BONDMAN act iv Jason. Spouting from another of his nostrils, eh ? First Convict. Pity the poor devil who has to open that pit, / eay ! Jason. Why so, sonny ? He'll get his release for it, won't he ? First Convict. Bet your life he will ! And not have to wait long for it either. Jason. \_Singing in mocking voice.] " Standing by the River Jor-dan, Looking towards the heavenly la-and." [Prisoners laugh. Warder. [Coming to door.] Silence there ! [Warder goes back. Second Convict. Lord, I'm tired of this place, though ! Such a waste, such a chaos I First Convict. Just about as far as the world was finished, / say. Second Convict. Not a tree. « ACT IV THE BONDMAN IS7 First Oonviot. Not a bush. Second Convict. Not a bird. Jason. Not a sign of God Himself 1 Third Convict. [Appare7itly a very old man.^ Don't say that, com- rades. God IS everywhere. [Prisoners lauyh bitterly. Jason. How old are you, daddy ? Third \Jonvict. Forty-two come Christmas. Jason. And how long have you been here ? Third Convict. Twenty years this winter. Jason. Yet vou believe that God is everywhere ? Third Convict. I do. Jason. The God of mercy and love and compassion m a hell on earth like this? Ht THE BONDMAN act iv Third Convict. God is in our hearts, comrade. And He's often found where he's least suspected. Jason. [^Singing again in mocking voice.^ " God's in His meadow, pied with daisies, God's in His world — but it burns like blazes 1 " [Prisoners laugh. "Warder. [Coining to door.] Silence, prisoners 1 [Warder goes back. Voices are heard outside, Michael''- Yoice. [On right.] I can't do it ! I can't do it 1 Jason. Who is that ? Second Convict. Must be the new prisoner they brought in yester- day. First Convict. My eye ! Wait till you see him 1 A regular top- sawyer, I can tell you I Second Convict. Used to be a swell, they say. Baves like a madman when they treat him like a dog. Jason. They'll soon bash that out of him, poor duvill ACT IV THE BONDMAN 139 Second Convict. Course they will 1 What does a man get for kick- ing against cruelty in a place like this ? Only the lash and the black hole for refractory conduct. First Convict. My game is to pass for humble and grateful — not riotous and rebellious — no thank you — not me 1 "Yes, governor, the food's as sweet as honey, and the beds is as soft as down, and I'm having the time of my life, I am." [Prisoners laugh. Warder comes oui. Warder. Silence I Michael. [Foic«.] I tell you I can't 1 Captain. [Foic«.] Out you go I Jason. Warder, what'i the name of the new prisoner ? Warder. D26. Jasoit. I asked for his name. Warder. !No names here, my man. l6o THE BONDMAN act iv Jason. Of course not. Only numbers. You may work six months by a man's side and know no more about your comrade than if you were a couple of beasts in a cattle-pen, FiEST Convict. But names aren't no advantage, matey. Not some- times, any way. Mine got me seven years' hard, and I don't care if I never hear it again. [Prisoners laugh. There is the sound of scuffling on right, and Michael Sun- locks is pushed on behind a truck by Two Warders, followed by the Captain of the Mines. The Captain is Dociob BONI. Michael. I protest ! I am illegally imprisoned I I was con" demned to penal servitude on the Island of St. Helda. Why do you bring me here ! Captain. Hold your tongue ! Michael. I appeal to the King. If you are Captain you are required to carry my petition. Captain. Hold your tongue, I tell you. Jason. [To Warder.] Is that D25 ? < ^ a I— I — < o -5 -/J CO ACT IV THE BONDMAN i6l Warder. Yes. Michael. What's yoTir motive in bringing me to this place ? Who ordered it ? CArTAm. Go on with your work. Michael. I can't. Captain. Push that truck. Michael. It's impossible. Captain. We must see if we can't make it possible, Michael. Do you wish to torture me ? Captain. I wish to break you, you obstinate young villain. \^The Warders threaten. Michael submits, atievipts to push truck. Jason. [To the Warder.] The man's ill — he's as weak as a child. Michael. [Feebly.] I'm weak after what I've gone through. Give me three days to get up my strength, sir. L 162 THE BONDMAN ACT iv Captain. Not three minutes. Go on. Jason. Warder, tell the Captain I'll do that man's work and my own as well. He's sick. Send him up to the hospital. Warder. Silence I Michael, [After another attemjyt.] I can't ! You see I can't Captain. [Raising his sticJc.l Go on, I say ! Jason. What! Strike him with a stick ! And nothing in the man's hand but his fist ! [The Prisoners murmur audibly. Michael. Then kill me 1 Kill me at once and put m© out of my misery. Captain. You want to raise a rebellion, do you ? Buf if you've done that outside you can't do it here. The tables are turned. Your day is over. Get on with your work, you whining cur I ACT IV THE BONDMAN 163 Michael. [Flmning up again.] I can't and I won't 1 Who are you to command me ? A trickster, a traitor, a sneak who comes into a man's house as a friend and turns his servants into spies. Captain. Insolent dog I [He strikes Michael with his stick. At the next moinent Jason leaj^s down and with a blow on tfte breast lays the Captain on his back. There is a moment of confusion. The Pkisonees and "Warders are all shouting together when the Governor enters, attended by Soldiers. Governor. What's this ? Captain. [Rising.] Refractory conduct of two prisoners, sir. One refused to work, the other struck me. Governor. Which ? Which ? Captain. [Pointing to Michael.] This one refused to work . . . Jason. And I struck him. Governor. Did you? Really? [Looking from Jason to Michael.] Can it bo possible ? Well, you knoAV i64 THE BONDMAN act !▼ what to do with them. [Pointing to Jason.] Let this one be lashed. Jason. [Throws open his shirt, (kc.'\ Lash me 1 Governor. The triangle 1 Immediately Captain. Here, sir? Governor. Here. [The triangle is hrottght on. Jason kicks it aside. Jason. Go on 1 I'll not run away. Governor. How brave 1 Do as he wants you, Warder. [Jason turns his back. A Warder takes the cat, Michael. Ko, no I Governor. No? Michael. The fault is mine if it's anybody's. Let him go. Governor. How nice ! Go on there I Michael. Stop ! You ehall not do it I ACT IV THE BONDMAN 165 GOVEHNOR. Shall we not ? No ? Then you shall do it for U3. Michael. I? Governor. Give him the cat, Michael. Yes, give it me ! Give ifc me ! [Clutchimj the cat he seems about to fall on the Governor. Jason. Wait! Governor Well ? Jason. You can't mean it, sir ? Governor. Why not ? Jason, The man is Ul, and this ruiEan struck him with his stick. You can't mean that the prisoner I tried to protect is the one that is to flog me ? Governor. Showing the white feather at last, are we ? Jason. Qo ou I I'm ready I i66 THE BONDMAN act iv Governor. Yes, yes ! Don't keep him waiting. Michael. If you have any bowels of compassion, think what you are asking me to do. Governor. Go on! Michael. What man with a heart could do it ? Governor. Go on, I say 1 First Convict. [Creeping behind Michael.] Go on, matey 1 They'll give it him worse if you don't, and serve you out too. Jason. Go on, comrade I Michael. Forgive me first. Say you forgive me. Jason. There is nothing to forgive. Don't be afraid. Go on. [Michael hesitates for a moment, then /lings down the cat. Michael. No, no, I will not go on. Let them lash me, too, if they like. Lash me ! [Throws open his shirt, and takes his place by Jason's aicU, ACT IV THE BONDMAN 167 Governor. "Very well ! "We must see what better we can do for you. The chains! \y^ k^D^us bring chains from Awi.] Chain them up together, log to leg and arm to arm. [Jason and Michael are chained together.'] So you two men are fond of each other's company, are you ? Well, you shall have enough of it and to spare. Day after day, and night after night, like as you now are you shall live together, until you abhor and loathe and detest the sight of each other. Now go ! [Company breaks up. Governor and Captain go to wpper terrace. "Warders drive back their Prisoners. Michael and Jason are alone Jor a moment. Michael. Youll hate me for bringing you to this. Jason. It's nothing. Michael Nothing ? Jason. I mean, I care nothing if you do not. Michael You don't regret it, then ? Jason. No ! And you ? Michael No 1 . . . What's your name, comrade ? i68 THE BONDMAN ACT iv Jason. Call me — brother ! Michael, [Feeling for 3 k^O's'b hand hy his side^ Brother! Warder. March ! To your work ! \The Two Men take their places behind the tritck, and go out left. There is another sub- terranean roar, folloxoed by spouts of steam and clouds of smoke. Captain. [To Governor.] Those two men may be dangerous to the Government even yet, sir. Governor. Nonsense I Captain. It might have been better to liberate the one and send the other to Lonely Island. Governor. Why? Captain. The consequences you expected have not come to pass. The men are friends, not foes. Governor. Wait till they know each other, and we'll see what they will be. But come, show me what's going on. ACT IV THE BONDMAN 169 The Government requires money, and the earnings of the Sulphur Mines are declining day by day. Captain. They're likely to decline, sir. Governor. Why so ? Captain. Something is happening here — something strange, something extraordinary. GOVERNOE. What is it ? Captain. The steam that rises from the solf ataras is becoming less and less, and the sulphur is ceasing to grow. Governor. Any other phenomena ? Captain. Yes, deep subterranean noises from places where no fissures have yet been seen. Governor. And what is your conclusion ? Captain. That the life of the mines, the great infernal fire beneath the surface of the earth, is changing ground. 170 THE BONDMAN act iv Governor. Then what's simpler? Open the new solfataras and they'll stand to us in the place of the old ones. Captain. Impossible ! I mean, it would be dangerous. Hei e, for instance. This is one of the worst places, and it would be death to the man who opened it. , Governor. Well, what are your prisoners for ? Boni, you are a fool ! . . . Boni ? Captain. Yes, sir. Governor. Nearer. Captain. I'm listening. Governor. If these two men were left alone they might talk a little. Captain. They might. Governor. They might find out who they are Captain. They might, indeed. Governor. Having done so, they might fly at each other's throats. ACT IV THE BONDMAN 171 Captain. They might certainly. Governor. If your warders were out of the way the quarrel might be serious. Captain. Yery serious. Governor. It would save the Government a deal of trouble. Captain. A great deal of trouble. Governor. And you a deal of anxiety. Captain. A great deal of anxiety I Governor. Come, then ! Captain. [JiowcZ.] Warder, this way 1 [Governor and Captain go up hill. Warder from hut foUovjs them. There is another subterranean roar, followed by clouds of vapour. Jason and Michael return, pushing a truck before them. During the following scene Michael rests on the truck while Jason fills it toitk blocks of sviphur. 172 THE BONDMAN act iv Jason. The warder has gone. Rest yourself. I'll do your work, brother. Michael. You won't tell me your name, then ? Jason. Don't ask me that, brother. Michael. Why not ? Jason. You might remember what I did, or tried to do, and why they sent me to this place. Michael. Was your crime so terrible ? Jason. It might seem so, perhaps. Michael. You have nobody belonging to you, you say ? Jason. Nobody at all, brother. Nobody to think twice what becomes of me. Nobody to care whether I live or die. [^He laughs hitierhj. Michael. After all you aie luckiest to be alone, perhaps. To have ties of blood and affection is only to be the moie unhappy. ACT IV THE BONDMAN 173 Jason. That's true. Michael. Say you love somebody, and all your heart is full of her. You lose her, and then where are you ? Jason. [Pausing in his work.^^ Was that your case ? Michael. Yes, Jason. Was she your wife ? Michael. Yes. Jason. She died, did she ? Michael. No ! There's a loss that's worse than death, though. Jason. [Eagerly.^ I know, brother. There was another man? Michael. Yes. Jason. He came between you ? Michael. Yes. 174 T^HE BONDMAN act it Jason. And you — you killed him, and that's why you're here? Michael. No, thank God, no 1 But God keep that man and me apart. [Another mhterrcmean roar. Jason goes on with his work. Jason. I scarce thought there was anything in common between you and me, but my life has been like yours in one thing, brother. Michael. What is that ? Jason. That another man has wrecked it. [Michael looks round eagerly.] I never had but one glint of sunshine in my life, brother, and that man wiped it out for ever. Oh, it's sweet when all the rest of the world are like wolves to have some one who is as tender as a mother and as loving as a child. Michael. [Breathing heavily.] And the man? Jason. He was rich, he had everything. I had nothing but that woman, and he took her away from me. It was cruel 1 I couldn't bear it. God knows I could not. ACT IV THE BONDMAID 175 Michael. You didn't . . . ? Jason. No I It wasn't my fault, though. The devil him- self must have been trying to keep us apart. MiCHAEIi. [Greatly agitated.'] Where is he now ? Jason. "With her, of course. In happiness and freedom and wealth, while I am here, in prison and these chains. Michael. Who — who sent you here ? Jason. She did 1 To protect her husband she denounced me as a spy. Michael. She — denounced you ? Jason. [Laughing wildly.] Shel As a spy, too 1 But no matter ! For all that she has made me suffer he shall yet pay double. As sure as Heaven is over us, that man and I will yet stand face to face. Michael. \StaggeHng hachwa/rd.] Oh 1 176 THE BONDMAN ACT IT Jason. [Supporting him.] Brother, are you ill 1 Michael. No, no ! Jason. The heat and the vapour . . . Michael. It isn't that. Jason. Then what's the matter ? Michael. It's nothing. Jason. But your voice trembles. Michael. I'm better now. [The Governor, Captain, d-c, return. Captain. Skulking again ! Jason. This man is sick. Send for the doctor. Captain. Go on with your work. Jason. No, I will not go on until you send this man to the hospital. Act. III. Scene I. GREEBA. JASON. (Mrs. Patrick ('aimi'beli,) (Mr. Fkank Cooper) ACT IV THE BONDMAN 177 Captain. [To Governor.] You see ! Governor. If one rebels, punish both. Let them open this new solfatara. Captain. Good ! [Calling.] Spades, picks, bores- -quickly ! [Warders b7'ing them and drive them into the ground about the solfatara. Michael. be best t Captain. [To Jason.] It will be best to obey— best for both of us. Are you ready ? Jason. It isn't safe. Captain March ! Jason. We shall be burned and boiled alive. Captain. Begin ! Jason. Do you want to drive two living men to their deaths ? Captain. In with you. Michael. Come, brother. M 178 THE BONDMAN act iv Jason. Listen to me, sir. If we are to open this pit of fire and brimstone, at least let us be free of these chains. That's only fair, that each man may have a chance of his life. Captain. Go on. Jason. I'm strong. I can look after myself. And I don't care much what may happen to me. But my comrade is weak and ill, and if he's to come out of that hole alive . . . Governor. How you men love each other ! Will your love last, I wonder? [Warders and Soldiers laugh. Jason. Old man, I don't know who you are or where you come from. You may be the Governor in these mines, but I appeal to your master. I appeal to the President. Governor. So you don't know yet ? Your friend, your yoke- fellow, hasn't told you what has become of him? Well, you shall open this solfatara first and appeal to the President afterwards. Michael. For God's sake come, comrade, come ! ACT IV THE BONDMAN 179 Jason. Then listen again and mark my words, sir. We'll do as you command us. We'll open this pit of hell. But if anything happens to the man by my side, and I am alive to see it, as sure as there's blood in my body and strength in my limbs . . . Governor. You threaten me ? Warders I Soldiers ! [Warders gather round, and Soldiers raise their muskets. Jason. Come, then, let's make an end of it. [Jason takes a bore and plunges it into the earth. There is a loud cry, a blinding Jlash, a low rumble of unearthly noises, and a cloud of smoke that obscures every- thing. Governor, Captain, Warders, and Soldiers /a/Z back in terror. Jason is seen coming through the fame and smoke with the insensible body of Michael in his arms. TJie chains that bound tlie men are broken. Jason. [Laying MicuA^h at his feet.] Brutes, barbarians! Look what you've done ! But why do I talk to you ? Where's your master? You are only his miserable slaves to carry out his accursed will. Where is your President ? Where is your Michael Sunlocks ? l8o THE BONDMAN act iv Governor. Shall I tell you where he is? There — there, at your feet ! [Jason reels hackwardsJ] Yes, fool that you are and have been — that is where your Michael Sunlocks is, and you've been taking his part to your own confusion 1 Jason. Godl [^There is silence for a moment. Then a loud clap as of thunder. The Convicts come rushing down with affrighted faces. First Convict. Torrents of boiling water are coining down the mountain. Fly ! [Runs off. Second Convict. The lava is flowing ! Fly I [Runs off. Fourth Convict. The Wack sand is falling ! Fly ! Fly ! [Runs off. The air darkens. Red and blu^ /lames break out from pits on every side. The crater on the top of the highest moun- tain is belching fre. Governor. Captain, set your prisoners at liberty. We can re- capture as many as we want when the eruption is over. ACT IV THE BONDMAN l8l Captain. [Shouting.] Fly, men! Fly! Save yourselves. [Fointinfj to Michael,,] What about this one ? Governor. Leave him alone. There's death in his face. If he recovers we can send him to St. Helda. [Governor and Captain disappear in the dark- ness. Convicts are seen rushing about in confusion, some laughing, some weeping, SOME shrieking, all toild with frenzy and mad with ten'or. Third Convict. [To Jason, running from right to left.] Gome, com- rade ! It is every man for himself, and God for us all now. Come ! [The tumuli dies down, the air cleaara, and Michael is seen lying on the same spot, vnth Jason standing over him. Michael. [Recovering consciou,sness.] Wat«r ! Water ! [Jason hesitates amoment, then goes to hut, brings water and jmts it to Michael's mouth. Jason. Come, boy, drink, drink ! Michael. [Afteo- drinking.] Where am I ? i82 THE BONDMAN act iv Jason. You are safe. Don't be afraid. Michael. [Brushing his hands over his eyes.] Is it niglit ? Jason. Only a sandstorm. It will pass away. Michael. Then I am blind, blind, blind ! Jason. Blind ? Don't say that. The steam and the flames have scorched you. Your sight will come back pre- sently. Michael. Was it an eruption ? Jason. Yes, but it is nearly over. Michael. Are they gone ? Jason. Cowards and tyrants, yes, they've gone and left us. Michael. Nobody here except ourselves? ACT IV THE BONDMAN 183 Jason. Nobody. But so much the better — we'll get away the easier. Michael. You are Jason, are you not ? Jason. I am ; but let us lose no time. Michael. Do you know who I am ? Jason. I know now ; but come, let us go. Michael. You stayed behind to save me when everybody else had left mo to perish ? Jason. We'll talk of that by-and-by, brother. Michael. Leave me ! Leave me 1 Jason Who so ? We are brothers still, are we not ? Michael. Brothers now more than ever. Give me your hand before my heart bursts. [Kissing it.] I bless you, I love you 1 i84 THE BONDMAN act iv Jason. Then let us reach the coast and escape from the country. Life is sweet and there's life left for both of us. Only to live ! Only to live ! Now that we know each other at last, and all the cruel thoughts are over. Michael. [Trying to rise.'\ Help me up, Jason. Jason. [Helping him.] You are weak still. I can carry you. Michael. No, no! Let me hold your hand. That will be enough. Jason. Lean on my shoulder, and wind your arm about my neck, then. Come, now ! Michael. [After a step or two.] I cannot ! Let me go. I am only a burden to you. Escape while there's time, or you'll be captured and brought back. Save yourself I Jason. And leave you here to die ? Michael. But I am blind and sick and have a broken heart and a broken brain, and am not worth saving. ACT IV THE BONDMAN 185 Jason. Courage, brother! I know a farm not far away, and the good man who keeps it. He'll give us milk and bread, and we'll sleep in his house to-night and reach the coast in the morning. Bravely, now 1 Bravely ! [Michael tries to rvalh hut stumbles and falls hack. Jason lifts him in his arms^ and puts him across his h'east and shoulder. The air has cleared and a sluift of sunlight shines on Michael's upturned face as Jason carries him up atid out. THE FIFTH ACT Scene : Presbytery of the church on " Lonely Island." Siinjyle Gothic chamber annexed to church. Window and fire (bm-ning), on left. Short staircase on right leading to bedroom. Door on right down stage leading to another bedroom. Outer door at back. Boors up stage right and Uft to kitchen and to church. Bell-rope of church visible. Table, two chairs, fixed settee, bookcase, etc. Window on left down stage, standing open as a door. When curtain rises it is evening. Service in church just finished. Vohintary, " The Silver Trumjyets," being played on organ. A little Maid, fourteen years of age, laying supper for two. A Woman, in homely dress, comes from kitchen with flowers in one hand and newspapers {in postal wrappers) in the other. It is Greeba. She lays the flowers on right side of table, and newspapers on left; then closes the window-door. Priest comes from church in cassock and biretta. Some of the congregation follow, shake or kiss his hand, and pass out by outer door. It is Father Ferrati, now an altered man. The Vohintary ends and the Father begins to ACT V THE BONDMAN i87 open newspapers. Michael comes from church. He walks with the uncertain step of a blind man. Greeba signals to the Maid to go to him. The Maid leads Michael to the table. Greeba goes noiselessly into room on right. Michael. Thank you, my child ! [Taking up flowers.] More flowers, Father. Priest. Our good housekeeper again, President. Michael. How kind she is I Bringing the sunlight into my darkened room ! Priest. The mail came while we were in church, President. Michael. [Eating,] Any letters for me ? Priest. Not this time, sir. Michael. They've forgotten us on this God -forsaken island, Father. Priest. Lots of newspapers, though, and plenty of news, too. Helloa ! " Insular Dependency rising against its Governor." That bull-dog at the capital is getting into hot water again, sir. Listen 1 I88 THE BONDMAN act V Michael. Wait ! [A bell rings in tite distance. PuiEST. Only the signal from the ship. The housekeeper will answer it. Michael. Hush ! [Greeba comes back noiselessly, goes to bell-rope and pulls. Bell rings overhead. Michael seeins to listen for her footsteps. She passes out by upper door right. Priest. I told you so. She never forgets anything. When she came here first I gave her an account of all her duties. " Twice a day," I said, " a bell will ring on the man-of-war lying at anchor outside. That's as much as to say, ' Is all well with your prisoner ? ' Then we ring our church bell in reply, as much as to answer, ' He's well ! He's here ! He's safe ! ' " Michael. Is she still in the room ? Priest. No, she has gone. And now we can go on with our newspapers. What's this ? Michael. WeU? ACT V THE BONDMAN 189 Priest. [Reading.^ " In Ustica the populace are clamour- ing for their former President, but nobody seems to know for certain what has become of him." Michael. Ah! Priest. [Readinrf.] " Rumour has it that after being rescued by a fellow prisoner from the eruption at the Sulphur Mines, he was ciptured again and spirited away to Lonely Island." There ! What did I say ? " If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea ..." Michael Anything else. Father ? Priest. [Readhig.] "The people are resolved to restore him, and a determined effort is being made by the students to secure his immediate return." Michael. They'd better leave things alone, poor boys. If the old Governor sees reason to fear that I am likely to be used as a firebrand, it will only be the worse for all of us. Any other news, father ? Priesi'. [Turning the n&wspapersP^ " Prisoners deported without trial — professors, public people " igo THE BONDMAN act v MiCHAEIi. [In a whisper.'] Anything about — about her ? Priest. No — let me see — no ! She must have gone back to her own country. Michael^ God grant she has 1 Priest. Women like that take care of their own comfort. [Greeba is seen returning with fruit. Michael. I brought her away. I shall never have a night's rest until I know she's safely back again. Priest. She's at home. Make yourself easy about that, President. [Greeba signals to Maid, who takes fruity ilien goes ovt again. Michael. Anything about Jason 1 Priest. [Looking through newspapers.] Nothing 1 He must have escaped. Michael. God bless him wherever he is I ACT Y THE BONDMAN 191 Peiest. Yes, God bless arid keep him ! Michael. It wasn't his fault that he saved me out of that hell of the elements for a life that is worse than death. Priest. Don't say that, sir. Michael, Blind, helpless, a burden to everybody . . . Priest. No, no I MiCELAEL. Forgive me ! After all, I've much to be thankful for. Priest. "We all have, Mr. President. Michael. I'm your prisoner, yet you treat me as your friend. Priest. Should think I do, indeed 1 Michael. We're alone on this desolate island, yet we have our cheerful hours together. 192 THE BONDMAN act v Priest. Haven't we ? The nice long nights 1 Nobody to disturb us, you know. Michael. We have everything we want, too. Pkiest. [Rubbing his hctrulsA Yes, plenty to eat, plenty to drin . . . Well . . . Michael. And if it wasn't for this blindness . . , Priest. Don't be downhearted, sir. As long as these old eyes of mine are to me they shall see for both of us. And then there's our housekeeper . . , Michael. Yes, indeed. Priest. She might have been living with a blind man all her life, sir, Michael, So thoughtful, so quiet, so noiseless ! Priest. If you want your hat it's to your hand ; your stick, it's there. Act III. Scene II. JASOX (Mr. Frank Coui'EK) KESCUES MICHAEL (Mr, Ainley) FR()3I THE SULPHUR MINES. ACT V THE BONDMAN 193 Michael. Do you know, I've never yet heard her voice, Father 2 Peiest. [Laughing.'] Ah I you've to thank me for that, though. ^ Michael. You? Peiest. " I've a friend living with me, and he's blind," I eaid, •* and he doesn't want to have women about him now, because a woman did him a great wrong, and he cannot forgive any of them ..." [Gkeeba is seen coming back with lamp. She stops. Michael. You never said that, Father ? Priest. Well, it popped out, President. Michael, And what did she say ? Priest. " He shall never know there's a woman in the house unless you tell him yourself," she said. Michael. What 's she like to look upon ? Tall ? 194 1'HE BONDMAN ACT V Priest. Well, not too tall. Just tall enough. Michael. Dark? Priest. Not too dark. Just dark enough too, sir. Michael. Lost her husband, you said ? Priest. Yes, that was why she came here — to get as far away from the world as possible, and forget everything that reminded of the past. Michael. Ah I if God had given me a woman like that — so sweet, so true, so faithful . . , Priest. Wish you could see her for yourself, President. Michael. [Rising.] Father 1 Priest. Yes? Michael. I thought I saw something this afternoon. ACT ^ THE BONDMAN 195 Priest. Where? W nat was it ? Michael. On the cliff — when I was out walking. I thought I saw the warship anchoi-ed in the bay. Only a dream, perhaps — a cruel dream I Priest. [Eising.] "Who knows ? I've always said your sight would come back to you. Let me look again. [Seeing Greeba.I Ah, housekeeper, bring up the light. [Greeba, visibly agitated, holds the lamp in front of Michael. Michael. Well? Priest. Steady, my good woman, steady, or your lamp will fall into the President's face. Michael. Well? Well? Priest. [Loohing into Michael's eyes.'] Yes 1 The cataract is going. There can't be a doubt of it. Gkeeba. [Asid^.] Thank God! Michael. Make sure, Father. Quite sure. 196 THE BONDMAN act t Priest. Wait then I [Aside.] Housekeeper, stand here. Hold your lamp so. [He places Michael amd Geeeba face to face.] Now, sir, what do you see ? Michael. I see a light. Peiest. Good 1 Anything else ? Michael. The figure c' some one. Priest. Good again 1 Is it a man or a woman ? Michael. I think it is a woman. Priest. Splendid ! Take time. Look steadily. Do you seo her face ? Michael. [After a paitse.] No, there is a cloud between us, Geeeba. [With mingled pain and relief] Ah I Priest. But the cloud will disappear some day. It may require an operation, though. ACT V THE BONDMAN 197 Michael. Then that is the end of everything. '\\Tiat opera- tion is possible — here on this island with me a prisoner ? [Re sinks into seat. Greeba puis lamp on table. Priest. Don't lose heart, sir. Nobody knows what may happen. [Voices outside cry ^^ Ilelloa 1 Relloa/"] Who's that ? Maid. [Who has been drawing blinds, looks out of window,^ The oflScers from the warship, sir ! [Greeba goes hurriedly into room on right as the outer door is hurst open and three, bright, hearty Naval Officers come dash- ing into the house. First Officer. Helloa 1 Second Officer. [Pointing to Greeba's retreating figure.^ Gone again 1 Third Officer. Can't catch a glimpse of the Father's pretty petti- coat I Priest. You're merry this evening, gentlemen. First Officer. Should think we are — we'ie going home! I9S THE BONDMAN act v Peiest. Going home ? Secoxd Officer. Yes> the steamer that brought the mails brought an or-der for our recall. Third Officer. Brought the new crew too, so the old one is going back with her. First Officer. We couldn't go without saying good-bye to the Father, though ; so we've come ashore to drink a glass of wine with him. Priest. But there isn't a bottle in the house, my son. Second Officer. [Laughing.] Drunk it all, have you ? Priest. I drank the last six months ago, my sons, and there hasn't been a drop under my roof -tree since. Third Officer. [Producing lottle.'] Never mind ! "We've brought a little along with us, and if you'll only lend us a glass or two . , . Priest. [Calling.] Three glasses, Natalina ! [Little maid brings up glasses. ACT V THE BONDMAN 199 First Officer. [To Michael.] You'll drink a toast with us, sir ? Michael. [Shaking his head.] Excuse me. Priest. Excuse me too, my sons. I did all my drinking before I came here, so I've got right through with it. Second Officer. But just for the last time. Father. . . , Priest. No 1 There are three sorts of drinkers, my sons : those who can stop and drink ; those who can drink and stop, and those Avho can't stop drinking. I'm one of the last, and when you meet a man of my sort, take my advice, don't stop to drink with him. Third Officer. Here goes then — the folks at home ! [The sailors drink and put bottle on table. Priest. You'll be glad to get back to them, my sons ? First Officer. Glad isn't the word for it. Father. When a man has been six months a grass-widower, he'd give something to hear the rustle of his wife's petticoat. 200 THE BONDMAN act v Second Officer. I don't mind saying I'm crazy to see the kiddies. I've one of both sorts, Father. Little Rick was born at this season of the year. I expect to be home for his birthday. Third Officer. Well, I have no children, and no wife of my own exactly. [Cries of " Oh/ Oh\ "] I don't think it proper, j*' Oh ! Oh ! "] What are women sent into the world for ? For men to love them all, from the tops of their heads to the soles of their feet, the darlings, and to pick out one in particular . . . [''Oh! Oh! Oh!"] FiusT Officer. Well, if there were no women in the world I wouldn't give much to live in it. On the other hand, here's this dreary old island — it's a pretty desolate place — but even if I had to live here all my life and had the right woman with me — the right one, remember. . . . What do you say. Father ? Priest. Hush! [He points over his shoidder to Michael, who has risen and is going out of room by door to church. All silent in a moment. Officers. Ah! First Officer. [In a low tone.] What a beastly selfish brute a man can be when his heart is glad ! ACT V THE BONDMAN 201 Second Officer. "Well, we've done our best to make things light for him. Hope the new crew will do no worse. Third Officer. Hardly likely, though. Our recall means some- thing. The old Governor has grown suspicious of all his servants. I heard some talk about new regulations. Priest, What sort of regulations ? Third Officer. God knows ? To keep him under lock and key in a room like a cell, perhaps. [Z'Ae (yrgan is heard playing "Home Sweet Home." First Officer. Who's playing ? Priest. He la. [-^ii listen, much movedi Third Officer. Poor chap ! No going home for him, axTway . Second Officer. rBout ship, boys — we must be getting aboard. First Officer. Good night, Father 1 202 THE BONDMAN act v Priest. ' I'll walk down to the jetty and see the last of you my sons. My coat and hat, Natalina ! Third Officer. [Opening door.] Dark night to-night, Father ! Priest. Leave the door open, my child. The light will show me the way home. [They go ojf, talking. TJie Maid goes info kitchen. Greeba covies out of room right and leans over fire, listening with obvious emotion to playing within. During the following scene the organ continiies to plat/, very softly, various airs. After a moment a Man appears at the open door. It is Jason. He toears a ragged cloak and bat- tered hat, and has a look of devil-may-care untidiness and Jiegkct. Plays all subsequent scenes as if under deep emotion, which he tries to cai-ry off by a light manner. Seeing Greeba he stops, takes off hat and cloak, then calls to her in a whisper. Jason, Greeba Greeba [With a faint cry, almost falling.] Jason! Jason Hush 1 Don't make a noise. I've something to tell you — you first. ACT V THE BONDMAN 203 Greeba. Did you know I was here ? Jason, I knew you must be. Greeba. Where have you come from ? Jason. From the capital. Greeba. How ? Jason By the mail steamer just arrived Greeba, What has happened ? What is going to happen ? Jason. Nothing ! Don't be afi-aid Greeba. I'm not afraid. You wouldn't injure me — I know that quite well. And as for Michael, I've heard of your reconciliation — all the terrible and beautiful story. But what have you come for ? Jason. To save your husband. 204 THE BONDMAN act v Greeba. Save him ? Jason. Help him to escape. Greeba. Would to God you could ! Especially now, when his sight is coming back to him. But you can't. It's impossible. Jason. Why so ? Greeba. There's a warship outside to keep him here. Jasox. And an English steamer to carry him away. Listen 1 Greeba. Yes? Jason. I have taken two berths for the passage home. Greeba. Home ? Jason. Back to England. I told the mate the other was for my wife, who had been out here nursing an invalid, Greeba. Well? ACT V THE BONDMAN 205 Jason. They'll just do for you and Michael. Greeba. But, Jason Jason. You'll go aboard at midnight. It's dark. The mate will never know the difference. Greeba. But think — only think Jason. You'll keep your cabin until the steamer clears the coast. Then you may go on deck, and you'll be aa safe on an English ship as if you were on the English shore. Geeeba. You think it can be done ? Jason. I'm sure it can. Greeba. "When do you propose to make the attempt ? Jason. To-night — the steamer sails in the morning. Greeba. [Going up.] I'll risk it 1 If only for the sa,ke of his sight, that he may have a chance of recovering it, 2o6 THE BONDMAN act v and all the noble gifts that are wrecked and wasted. [Pausing.] But, Jason 1 Jason. Well? Greeba. You'll not betray me ? Jason. Betray you ? Greeba, To Michael I mean, for though I'm here he doesn't know me. Jason. Doesn't know you ? Greeba. He thinks I'm the old priest's housekeeper, Jason. And the priest himself ? Greeba. The dear, simple old soul ! I had to deceive him also. Jason. But why ? Greeba. Michael has never forgiven me for what happened at home, Jason. Jason. I understand. ACT V THE BONDMAN 207 Gkeeba. He thinks I married the President, not the man. Jason. Yet you followed the prisoner to his lonely home in the open sea ? Greeba. His home was my home, and where he was there I had to be. Jason. How long have you been here ? Greeba. Almost ever since Michael came. Jason. And you've never once spoken to him. Greeba. Never. Jason. You've waited for the day and the hour when you might reveal yourself to him ? Greeba. Yes, for the day and the hour when his heart would come back to me — when I might look into his poor blind eyes and say, *' Michael, I'm here I I'm with you ! You thought the woman you loved, the woman you married, ought to share your fate, whatever it 2oS THE BONDMAN act v might be. Haven't I done so, dearest ? Haven't I proved my love for you ? " Jason. [Aside.] My God I how she loves him. [Aloud.] He has a chance of recovering his sight, you say ? Greeba. So the Father thinks. But it will require an operation. Jason. An operation ? Greeba. There was no hope of that an hour ago, but now Jason. Where was the Father going to when I passed him on the path ? Greeba. To the harbour with the officers. Jason. [Pointing to where the music comes from.] And Michael is ? Greeba. In the church, playing. Jason. [Taking her hand to lead her up.] Greeba, say nothing to anybody, and if anybody questions you, answer as little as you may. MR. AUSTIN MELFoltD AS ' FATIl KK Ji;i;i;.\ I'l.' ACT ▼ THE SONDKfAN 2og Qabeba. Yes, yes. Jasojt. Whatever I do, or pretend to do, speak not a word, change not a feature. Do you promise me ? Greeba. Indeed I do. But how selfish I am 1 What is to become of you, Jason ? Jason. [Laughing.] Of me? That's all right. You don't suppose I'm going to live the rest of my life on this drizzly old rock, do you ? Greeba. Where have you been living since you left the Sulphur Mines ? Jason. [Laughing.] Here — there — anywhere — nowhere. Greeba. What have you been doing ? Jason. [Laughing again.] Drinking — gaming — going to the devil. Greeba. Jason, I wronged you, and you are heaping coals of fire on my head. o 310 THE BONDMAN act ▼ Jasov. Not a bit of it. I was a fool, and made myself think I cared for you. That's all over now, Greeba. Greeba., My husband was everything to me, Jason, Jason. Of course he was I Greeba. Eut another woman might have loved you and made you happy. Jason. Ay, ay, another woman ! Greeba. Somewhere or other she waits for you yet — depend on that, Jason. Jason. Ay, somewhere or other 1 Greeba. So don't lose heart, dear. Jason. [Laughing.] I don't I Not I, Greeba 1 Some- where or other — that's the way of it ! [Looking out.] But look, the priest is coming back. Go and make ready. [Greeba goes in by kitchen door, Jason returns to table. ACT V THS BONDMAN iii Jason. [Straightening himself up and beating his breast.] You're in for it now, Jason I Wish I could find something to make my tongue wag. [Looking at bottle left on table.'] Wine? Good! [Drinking.] Liquor, you old father of lies, I drink down your devils to help me. [Priest enters, sees Jason and rwns to him with both hands out. Priest, Yes — no — can it be possible ? My boy ! My boy I Jason. You've not forgotten me ? Priest. As if I could forget the son of your poor mother ! And even if I could, I have some one her* fco remind me. Jason. He speaks of me sometimes, then % Priest. Every day, always— wondering what has becomo of you. Jason. God bless him I Priest. You've been away, Jason ? 2ia THE BONDMAN act v Jason. Not I, Father. Priest. At home all the time and not afraid of arrest ? Jason. [Laughing.] When a man has fallen into the watei he needn't mind the rain. Besides, I've done their dirty work — they've no more use for me. Priest. [Taking a step towards church.] Let me call him. He'll want to hear everything. Jason. [Stopping him.] Not yet . , . He's still blind, I hear. Priest. Ah, yes, that cruel shaft from the solfatara — [The organ, stops. Jason. He suffers from his blindness ? Priest. Terribly, pitifully ; it darkens his very soul, Jason. Yet your housekeeper says his sight may return to him. ACT V THE BONDMAN 213 Priest. It would, too, if he could undergo an operation. Jason. Father, there's a great doctor come to Palermo. He cures ailments of all sorts, but blindness most of all. People are flocking to him from every quarter. Priest. Ah, if your poor brother could go also 1 Jason. Why cant ho ? Priest. My good lad, what are you thinking of ? Jason. It wouldn't be for long. Only a month — less — much less. Priest, Impossible ! Quite impossible 1 Jason. Don't say that. Father. Think— only think. All the world is dark to him. If he could see the sun and the flowers everything would be difi'erent. His exile would be nothing to him then. Let him go to the great doctor, and heaven will bless you. $14 THE BONDMAN act V Priest. How can I ? Twice a day a bell is rung on the ship outside to ask if the prisoner is here, and twice a day we ring the church bell in reply. It cannot be done. There is no way. Jason. Leave it to me, and I'll find a way. Pkiest. I must not — I dare not. I'm his jailer, God for- gire me, and it is more than my place is worth. Jason. He will come back. Priest. How can you say that ? Once free of this pTac», where the very sea imprisons him, what man in the world would come back to it ? Jason. He will — I know he will — I swear he will. Priest. No, no 1 It isn't in nature, my good lad. And then think of me Jason. I do think of you, and to show you how sure I am that he will come back, I will make you an offer. ACT V THE BONDMAN 115 Priest. What ? Jason. To stand as your bondman while he is away. Priest. \Aft«r a pause.'\ Do you know what you are saying, Jason ? Jasok. Ye3, your reverence, for I came to say it. Priest. Do you know that a new crew has come out, bring- ing fresh regulations ? A thief suspects theft, and a tyrant treachery. In his terror the Governor may have ordered that your brother should be kept under lock and key for the rest of his natural life. Jason. What of that? Does the new crew know your prisoner from any other man ? Priest. How can they ? ~ Jason. Then where is your risk if I take my brother's place ? Priest. [Catching his breath.] My risk? Mine? I was thinking of yours I My lad, you make me ashamed. Si6 THS BONDMAN act v What did I promise him when he took me up and made a new man of me ? '* If ever a man hke me can do anything foi' one hke you, if it's to the last drop of my blood ." I'll do it ! If you dare risk your liberty I dare risk my living, and I'll do it, I'll do it 1 Jason. God bless you ! Prikst. Now let me call him. You shall explain your plan — how it's to be done and Jason. Wait 1 It isn't fair that you should be allowed to go farther. Priest. As you please. Jason. When does the ship make her next signal ? Priest. At sunrise in the murning. Jason. And you answer it immediately ? Priest. Immediately. Jason. Nigbt is the »ame as day to a blind man, but if he has to go down to the harbour, somebody must guide him. ACT V THE BONDMAN 217 Priest. That's so. Jason. Since you are impossible, and I must stay here, perhaps your housekeeper may go with him ? Priest, Why not ? Jason. You can trust me, your reverence ? Priest I cai\. Jason You b«lieve I will keep to my bargain ? Priest I do, Jason. Then go to your room, and lie snug in your bed until you hear the ship's bell in the morning. Priest. I will 1 [Priest goes towards his room. Michael see7i coming from church.^ Ah, Jason, Jason ! to think you aie doing this for him — you who swore that oath of vengeance 1 Jason, \prinliin(j.\ Ay, ay, life's a fine lottery, isn't it? 2i8 THE BONDMAN ACT v Priest, How the good God tears our poor passiong to tatters ! •* Yengeance ia mine, saith the Lord. I vrill repay." Jason. Yes, God knows best what is best, doesn't He ? MiCHAKI,. [In an agitated voice,] Father, there is somebodj with you. Who is it ? Jason. A friend. Michael. Whose voice is that ? Priest. Don't you know it, President ? Michael. Jaaon ! Where are you ? Let me touch you. [They /all into each other's arms, lauyhing and weeping like children. Priest. [Wipvig his eyes.] I leave you together — you don't want me. I'll go to bed. An old man has to go to bed early, you know. [Calling.'] Housekeeper I [Greeba comes from haclc?\ Shake down a bed for the stranger in the church. Good night, Jason ! You'll ACT V THE BONDMAN tig Bleep in the odour of sanctity for once. Do you good, you young pagan. See you in the morning. Good night, President I [Both answer, Priest ffoes upstairs and out. Michael and Jason sit, one on chair the other on table, with hands clasped. Gkekba stands a moment watching them. Jason. Michael, I've brought you a message. Where from ? From home. Michael. Jason. Michael. So you've been there since they arrested me ? Jason. Should rather think I have 1 [Aside.] What a liar you are, Jason ! Michael, [Sadly.] It will be hai'vest time in the island now. How sweet the old farm must look I Jason. Beautiful 1 The yellow corn and the red poppies, and the gorse and the fuchsia ! And then the smell of the peat, and the nuts, you know ! 220 THE BONDMAN ACT v Michael. What I would give to see it again ! And the good people themselves, Jason ? Jason. Sailing with the wind still — the grandfather, and Mrs. Fairbiother, and Christian Ann, and those two galley growlers, John James and John Robert. Michael. How is Adam 1 Jason. Going westward, perhaps, but a good piece of day- light at the old saint yet. Michael. And the children ? . Jason. The little 'uns are splendid. Danny's as red as a sea rover, and Mona's always nursing the doll you sent her. [Mindcki7ig child's voice.] " You cry, I kiss you, you not cry no moie ! " A little woman though, all giilish blood and beauty, with that voice that's like joybells in a man's ear. Michael. And — and Greeba ? Is she at home ? What has become of her ? Jason. That's what I've come to tell you. ACT V THE BONDMAN 221 Michael. Did you say you had brought me a message ? Jason. Yes. Not from her ? From her. Michael. Jason. Michael. [Rising.] I cannot bear it. She broke faith with me — bitterly and cruelly broke faith with me and betrayed me. [Grbeba goes staggering out at hack. Jason. That may be so, Michael, but who can be hard on the penitent and the dying ? Michael. Did you say — the dying ? Jason. The ti'oubles of these last days have broken her down. She is not like the same woman. Michael. Poor thing ! Jason. She is calling on you night and day. " Michael," she cries,' " if I did wrong, can't you forgive me ? " *2% THE BONDMAN act v Michael, Poor girl ! My poor wife 1 Jason, She knows you are here, and she wants to come and nurse you. " His home is my home," she says, " and where he is there I ought to be." Michael, Does she say that, Jason I Jason. She does. But it's impossible ; and in her pain and trouble she cries, " Come to me, my husband 1 Come to me 1 " Michael. Now this is the hardest lot of all I Oh, these blind eyes, this cruel rock, this impi'isoning sea I [Re drops his head on the table and sobs Jason. [Rising, to himself.} Jason, you are the biggest liar the Lord ever made. But you can't help it I Michael. Oh, for one day of freedom 1 One day of sight I One little day 1 Jason. [On right.] Hush, Michael ! You can have the day you wisk for, and If you cannot see there are ACT V THE BONDMAN 223 others to lead you. It's all arranged. You leave this house to-night. Michael. Jason I Jason. You are to sail by the steamer that leaves at day break. Michael. But the priest Jasox. He'll let you go for this purpose, if you promise to return within a month. Michael. The good old soul 1 Let me thank him Jason. No, no I He knows everything and is content. No time to lose now. As soon as you're ready the house- keeper will lead you to the harbour, [Greeba t* seen coming hack, dressed for the journey. Michael. But why not you, Jason ? Jason. Because I am to stay here until you come back. Michael. You are to stay here ? 824 ^^S BONDMAN ACT Jasox. That is so. Michael. As bondman instead of me ? Jason. Why not ? Michael. To take my place and to stand for me, whatever happens ? Jason. Certainly. Michael. Do you mean that ? With all your heart? Jason. With all my heart. Michael. Jason, you don't know the risk you would run, but I do, and if anything happened to you while I was away I should never forgive myself — never, though I lived a hundred years. Jason. What reason have you to fear that anything will happen ? None at all ! Then go, and for form's sake ' — just that and no more — let me wait here until you return. Michael. Is that the condition of my going ? 'S^ ■>-.^ -•••, -i r m < r 5 i4 -v »— i^ O H^ < ^ o ^ i^ ^ 1— : < 'O X ?; -X C-1 x X. ACT ▼ THE BONDMAN S23 Jason. Yes. Michael. Then I won't go. Jason. If you dou't, you'll break that poor girl's heart, Michael. Michael. Tell her I could not. Jason. I'll tell her you could, and would not. Michael. Will you tell her why I would not ? Jason. No I [Learning over him.^ Michael, she is calling for you — far away at home. It is her last request — her last prayer : " Come to me, my husband, come and forgive me before I die ! " Michael, [Rising. '\ Let me go and make ready. Jason. [Leading him to room right.'\ That's right. [Michael g/^es in, Jason wipes his eyes. I forgive you, .Jason ! You couldn't help it — 'pon my soul you couldn't ! [Greeba comes down in gi'e&t agitation. r 826 THE BONDMAN ACT v G£££BA. You ar* deceiving us. Jasok. Hush, Greeba 1 Gkeeba. You led me to believe that you were to go away too, yet you have just told Michael you are to remain. Jason. I had to — he wouldn't have gone otherwise. He is thinking of the priest — afraid to leave him in the lurch, you know. Greeba. Jason, you are deceiving all of us — the priest, Michael, myself, everybody. Jason. Nonsense 1 Before your steamer is out of sight I shall have escaped. Greeba, How ? In what way ? Jason. Many ways are open to a man with a pair of good eyes that are closed to a blind one. Greeba. Something is going to happen — I know it, I feel it. ACT V THE BONDMAN 2x7 Jason. Tut I What can have put that in your head, Greeba ? Greeba. Rather than anything should happen to you as the result of our going away I would stay here for the rest of my life. So would Michael. After all, we are together, we are under the same roof, and we may come to know and forgive and love each other again. Jasok. Hush 1 Your hour has come sit last, Greeba. Seize it. Don't let it slip. Grebba. [Firmli/.] You are concealing something. Tell mo what it is. Jason. Don't speak so loud. Greeba. [Vehemently.] I'll shout, I'll soream, I'll put an end to everything, unless Jason. [Laying hold of her arm.] You shall not! I've come here to save Michael and give you back to your husband. I've planned that, schemed it, lain awake at night to think of it. And shall you stop it at the last moment ? No 1 22% THE BONDMAN act v Gheeba. [BreoMng,] Then treat me as a woman, not as a child, and tell me — tell me, Jason. Very well, I will. Then you'll see that if you stay here another night, there can be no living together under the same roof, no love and no forgiveness. Gbeeba. [Almost fainting.] Go on Jason — I'll be brave. Jason. [In a lone tone, getting close.] The new crew that has come to take the place of the old one has brought out a serious order. Greeba. About Michael ? Jason. Yes. Greeba. [Gasping.] You mean an order for — for his execu- tion 'i Jason. [Puffing his hand over her mouth, whispering.] Hushl Remember your promise 1 Be brave. [il^oit^.J Ah, back already ! [Michael returi^, hat and cloak in hand ACT V THE BONDMAN 229 Michael. This is more than a brother's love, Jason ; and to think it's you Jason. Yes, it's funny, isn't it ! [To Grebba.] Courage I Michael. Nothing else in the world would have taken me away from you to your peril. But now that my poor girl is sick and dying, I »iust go to her. Jason. Of course you must. No time to lose either. The housekeeper is here and everything is ready. Give me your cloak and hat. [Takes them, lays them mi chair and signah to Greeba to bring up his own. She does so. He puts his ovm cloak and hat on Michael.] You're to go home in my berth, and nobody will know the difference between us. Michael. You think not ? Jason. Sure of it. Not to-night any way. You'll find two sailors at the harbour waiting with a boat. Give them something and tell them to take you to your cabin. If you stagger a bit, they'll know what to think of it. [La^lghs.^^ As soon as the day breaks I'll go up the cliff to see you off. I'ou mi^t come on deck and wave good-bye to me. xjo THE BONDMAN act v Michael. I will, and though my eyes are blind, I'll seem to Bee you. Jason, I'll seem to see you, too, sailing away like a sea-bird down the footpath of the sim. [Greeba is breathing attdibly, Jason siffncda to her to be fuiet. Michael. Jason, I cannot forget that my poor girl made shipwreck of your life also. Jason. Not she. She never cared for me. Belonged to you only — always did, sJways will do. Michael. Sometimes I think there must have been a mistake Bomewhere. Jason. Should rather think so. Michael. And now that I'm blind I seem to see her near me always. Jason. You do ? [Greeba makes pleading gestures as if she wisJied to throw herself in Michael's arms. ACT V THE BONDMAN 231 Jason. [WJnspers.] Not yet — not till youVe out at sea. Michael. Only a dream— a foolish dream ! Jason. But what if the dream came true, and you opened your eyes some morning, and your sight came back to you, and you sa-w her by your side ? Michael. That's impossible. Yet some mysterious fate seems to be hovering over me, and I feel like a child who is stumbling in the dark. Jason. [Afier opening door and looking out.'] Dark enough to-night, anyway, and if you had your sight already you couldn't see a step before you. So give your hand to this good woman, and whatever happens hereafter, never, never let it go. [He joins the hands •/* Michael and Greeba,] Michael. Does she know my way so well, Jason ? Jason. [Leading them to the door.] She knows the way for both of you. And now come — good-bye ! 232 THE BONDMAN act v Michael. Good-bye, until we meet again, brother, Jason. [Suddenly very solemn.'] Until we meet — again. [The brothers clasp hands and part. Greeba holds hack a moment, looking at Jason with deep emotion. He puts hig arjns about her and she kisses him. She is breaking into sobs. He signals to her to be sileiU. Michael and Greeba pass out. Jason holds door and calls ajter them : My love to everybody at borne ! A dig in the ribs for Danny, and a hug for Mona and her doll. [Mimicking child's voice.] " You cry, I kiss you, you not cry no more I " [He laughs, a heart-breaking laugh, tlien closes door and stands back to it, with face full of agony.] Gone I My God I Gone ! [Shakes himself, goes to bottle, pours out glass, then pauses and puts it d0wn.] Not yet ! [Opens drawer in table, rummages around.] Where does he keep them ? Ah ! [Finds paper, envelopes, pen and ink, and sits down at table to write. Writes with difficulty. Spells some of the words. Laughs and sobs alternately.] " Dear [Spells.] B-r-u-t-h-e-r, whatever you hear, fear not for me. 1 have [Spells.] s-c-a-p-t. So you need not think of coming back. But don't expect to see me [Spelltng.] a-g-e-n, because I dare not be seen. You are going home to your beautiful England, but poor old Sicily is the only place for me. Greeba, good [SpsUs.]h-u-y. I shall never lose [Spells.] h-a-r-t. Michael, she has loved you — you only — all the days ACT V THE BONDMAN 233 of her life. Good-bye ! I am well and [Spelling.] h-a-p-e-y. Good-bye. God bless you both ! " N.P. The old piiast has escaped [Spells.] t-w-o. Good-bye." [PiUa letter in *nvdope, addresses it. Sees flowers, lifts them up, puts them to his lips, lays th^.m doton again. Then, lowers t}ie lamp attd blows it out with his nostrils. The dawn ! [The daylight is seen fdtering through the window -blinds. He parts them a little and looks out. All quiet on the sea ! There she is ! The war- ship — silent as a sleeping child 1 [A bell rings in Via distance.] The signal ! [He goes up to bell-rope and pulls. Bell rings overhead. He returns to window.] All safe ! They're getting up steam on the steamer. [Voices heard singing in distance. They're weighing anchor I [Siren is blown.] She's ofl'l She's off! She has gone ! [Goes to table, takes glass, drinks and laughs.] You're in for it now, Jason ! You've cooked your goose, my boy ! [Takes up bottU.] The last time ! The very last ! [D7nnJcs and dashes bottle into gi'ote, lavgkirig and singing and shouting.] Where are you, Father What's-your-Name? [The Priest comes out of his bedroom. Priest. God bless me, who's that ? Jason. Why, your bondman — your bondman 1 234 T^HE BONDMAN act v Priest. [Coming down.] Has he gone ? Jason. Of course he has gone. They've both gone. Pkiest. Both? Jason. You didn't see through it, old mole ? Priest. See through what ? Jason. That she was his wife. Priest. Who ? Jason. Your housekeeper as you called her. Priest. God bless my soul 1 When are they coming back ? Jason. They're never coming back. [Showing UtUr.'] I'm taking care of that. Priest. What does it all mean ? Jason. It means that the new crew are bringing out an ACT V THE BONDMAN 235 order for the President's execution, and he has slipped out of their hands. Pkiest. God save us ! His execution ! And do you mean — no, you cannot mean that you intend to die instead . . Jason. Why not ? I've had my little joke, I must pay the price of it. Priest. [Passionately.] I'll not stand by and see it done. Jason. You must. Priest. I will not. Jason. [Ris arm about Priest's shoulder.'] Old friend, I'm not sa%dng my brother — I'm saving myself. Priest. Yourself ? Jason. Don't you see ? Since I left the Mines I've been drinking myself to death. Isn't it better to die in bringing two sundered hearts together than to be found dead in a ditch some day ? Priest. God pity you 1 God help you 1 God bless you I 236 THE BONDMAN act V Jason. Ay, pray to your God 1 But I'll not pray to Him. He doesn't make his world for poor wretches like me. Pkiest. Heaven will save you as it has saved me, my son. Jason. Never ! Priest. Your brother is gone — they cannot bring him back now. The Governor is a tyrant, but 1 don't care for consequences. I'll tell everything. You shall live. Jason. Useless ! Impossible ! Priest. Nothing is impossible to God, my son, " No matter how low a man has fallen, as long as his soul is alive, there's salvation for him still." I'll write. You shall be saved. Jason. Too late ! They're here ! Look ! [^Laying hold of Priest hy the wrist, he drags him to the window and pulls blind. Tlie sunlight Jlashes in their faces. A company of Bluejackets are seen marching past. Jasox snatches up and puts on Michael's cloak and hat. A Naval Officer and Bluejackets with muskets come in. ACT V THE BONDMAN «37 Officer. Father Ferrati? [Priest bows.] This is your prisoner, I presume ? [Priest hesitates. Jason tugs at his arm. Priest bows again. Jason crosses; Officer addresses him, holding a paper. Officer. I am sorry to be the bearer of a serious warrant, sir. Jason. You are the Captain of the new crew ? Officer. Yes. It is my painful duty to tell you Jason. I know . . . When is it to be, Captain ? Officer. To-day, this morning, immediately. [Priest utters a cry. Jason holds up his hand. Jason. I'm ready. But our friends of the old crew have just sailed, you know, and I promised to wave good- bye to them from the clifF. May I ? Officer. Certainly I [Jason pichs up flowers from table and during following scene fixes them in his hat. t^ THE BONDMAN act ▼ [To P&ie:7F.] Good-bye, old friend I [Whisperiw^.] Daat speak 1 [Alo^wL] You'll send a line to my people at home. [Wltispering and giving letter.] Here it is ; post it by the first mail. [Aloud.] Say I'm tired of this di'eary place and not sorry to leave it. [Whispering.] Listen I I love my brother's wife! Love is the best thing we get for being in the world, but some of us miss it, and then what is there left to live for ? [^Zoitc?.] Say I went off cheerful and they're not to trouble about me. [Whispering.] Remember my mother : think of what I tried to do before. A light from heaven shines on my path now. Let m« walk by it ere the world dims it. [^iwwi.] Say I'v« been beating to windward all my life, but I'm fetching the harbour all right at last. Good-bye, old friend 1 God bless you 1 God bless everybody ! [He puts on his hat aiid goes out vnth a light step, hivmming his students' chorus. The Bluejackets /oZ^t/> him. At the next mo- ment two men are seen outside looking after Jason. They are the Old Governor aiid Doctor Boni. They enier, the Captain returning with them. DOCTOK. [Entering.] That was not Michad Sunlocks. It was the man Jason, GOVERNOK. [To Priest.] "What does this mean ? [The Priest trembles and is silent. ACT V THE BONDMAN t39 Doctor. Some trick, sir, some treachery. GOVEBNO*. Speak, man. Am I to wring th« truth out of your throat ? What does it mean ? Peiest. [Passionately J] It means that I am a miserable coward, and you are a merciless tyrant I [Goyeknor falls back as if smitten on the face.] It means that while you have been hurrying here to see with your evil eyes your vengeance executed on your enemy, another has come before you to lay down his life for his friend 1 It means that your victim has gone — / have lot him go — and the one who has taken his place is your own child's child, your outcast daughter's outcast son, and when he dies it will be your hand that has killed him, and then your guilty soul will be damned and his will be washed in the blood of the Lamb ! [Going across and throwing open the door.] Aw&j with you 1 Go back to the place of your power. There is no one now to take it from you. But know the Lord liveth, and all your evil schemes have come to nought. Away 1 Take your wicked feet away, for this is God's house and holy ground 1 [I'he Governor seems to shrivel up as tits Priest's lash fails over him. He turns to the Officer. GovBRNoa. [To Officer.] The warrant. [Officer gives tcarrant to Goverxob, who 240 THE BONDMAN act v tears U up with trfinbling fingert and goes out like a whipped dog, followed by Doctor Boni. Officer. [To Bluejackets.] Back to the ship ! Bluejackets go of. Scene chakgbs in- stanilij to the TABLEAU. A rocky sea-coast with harbour lying far below. Sun rising above the sea-line. A radiant morning. A man-of-war at anchor in the bay, a/nd. farther ovt, betioeen the two smooth mirrors of sea and sky a steamer sailing away. A faint sound of music. " Home, Sweet Ilome " is being played on a cornet. On the highest point of the h-eadlu id Jason is standing with his face to the departing steamer. He waves his haiid to it — once, twice, thrice. Then his hand drops, and Oi^ flowers in it fall at his feet. The music becomes fainter and fainter until it dies away. There is only the boom of the tvaves against the rocks below, the cry of the sea-gulls overhead, and the lonely figure on the headland as the Curtain slowly descends. THE E»B. Printed by Ballanttnk & Co. Limitbd Tavistock 5trc