UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES SEARCHLIGHTS BY HORACE ANNESLEY VACHELL NOVELS QUINNEYS' LOOT BUNCH GRASS BLINDS DOWN JOHN VERNEY THE OTHER SIDE PLAYS JELF'S QUINNEYS' SEARCHLIGHTS GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY NEW YORK SEARCHLIGHTS A PLAY IN THREE ACTS BY HORACE ANNESLEY VACHELL AUTHOR OF "BLINDS DOWN," "LOOT," "BUNCH GRASS," "JELP'S," "QUINNEYS'," ETC. GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY PUBLISHERS NEW YORK Copyright, 1915, BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY & a Jf 604-3 5 TO \ H. B. IRVING *\fc Att information and applications for permission to perform this play by Amateurs must be addressed to MESSRS. SAMUEL FRENCH, LTD., 26, Southampton Street, Strand, London. CHARACTERS ROBERT ELAINE A Capitalist SIR ADALBERT SCHMALTZ - - . . A Capitalist HARRY ELAINE A Guardsman FIRMIN A Physician MONYPENNY A Solicitor FEWSON A Butler TREMLETT - - - ' - - . A Butler FOOTMAN HON. MRS. ELAINE LADY SCHMALTZ PHGEBE SCHMALTZ NURSE SCENES ACT I The Smoking-room, Corriefeuran Castle [Ten months elapse] ACT II Library of Elaine's country house [Four months elapse] ACT III Drawing-room in Elaine's town house TIME THE PRESENT SEARCHLIGHTS ACT I SCENE: Smoking-room at Corriefeuran Castle, Sutherland, N. B. TIME: September, 1913. Curtain discloses the smoking-room at the Castle. Stags' heads embellish the walls. There is a deep fireplace L., in which peat is smould- ering. A club fender surrounds this. The room indicates opulence. There is a glazed cupboard full of guns and rifles, R. The chairs are upholstered in red leather, and a Turkey carpet lends warmth to the room, which is simply furnished. Big windows opening on to a verandah are C. Through these the audience will have a glimpse of a Sutherland landscape, under rainy skies. At a table L.C. HARRY ELAINE is sitting, L. of table, with materials for fly-making near him. A small vice is on the table. He is busily n 12 SEARCHLIGHTS engaged in dressing a salmon fly. Seated in arm-chair, above fireplace, is PHCEBE SCHMALTZ. HARRY is a very handsome young man, dressed in rough tweeds. PHCEBE is a pleasant, jolly- looking girl, healthy rather than pretty, also in Scotch tweeds. She is leaning her head upon her hands and keenly interested in her companion's doings. Doors R. and C. Upon the wall R. of. window is a barometer. There are bookcases, and below the stags' heads are some sporting prints by Thorburn. PHCEBE. (After a pause.) You can dress flies. HARRY. (Taking the fly from the small vice, and examining it critically.) I can dress flies, old thing, and I can dress myself. Also, I can ride a bit, and shoot, and dance. (Yawns.) That's about the extent of my accomplish- ments. (He gets up, walks to barometer up R., taps it, and yawns again.) PHCEBE. Going up? HARRY. A wee bittie. What a beastly day it has been! PHCEBE. Father was rather glad of a day off. HARRY. (Sitting on table L.C. Decisively.) SEARCHLIGHTS 13 Yes. That jumped even to my undiscerning eye. Why does Sir Adalbert take a deer forest ? PHCEBE. Why does he wear a kilt? HARRY. Why, indeed? (Laughs.) PHCEBE. Because he is lineally descended from Marshal Keith, who fought under Frederick the Great. HARRY. What ho! PHCEBE. (Smiling.) And he's prouder of that Scotch ancestry than of all his German blood. Also, he's an altruist. (Sits on curb fender.) HARRY. Ah ? PHCEBE, He likes to give stalking to undeserv- ing subalterns in the Guards. HARRY. (Coming back to arm-chair L.) I've had a topping week of it. PHCEBE. Thanks. I hope your father has not been bored to tears. HARRY. Father ? He's been bored right enough, but I hope he hasn't shown it. PHCEBE. Mr. Elaine never shows his feelings. HARRY. (Pulling out his pipe and beginning to -fill it. ) I say, Phoebe, we've a rummy brace of fathers hey? PHCEBE. I'm quite satisfied with mine. HARRY. (Genially.) Girls are easily pleased. I admit that Sir Adalbert is a good sort. He simply worships you. My father, as perhaps 14 SEARCHLIGHTS you've noticed, is not conspicuously fond or proud of me. PHOEBE. Your mother is devoted to you. (Takes hat from wicker chair dozvn L.) HARRY. The mater is a dear. She likes you, Phoebe, most awfully. You've made a hit with her. PHOZBE. (Simply.) I'm glad. Harry (Cross- ing to front of table, L.C.) HARRY. (Not looking up.) Eh? PHOZBE. Harry, have you quarrelled with your father? (Sits on right arm of arm-chair, by HARRY.) HARRY. Lord ! no. Why do you ask ? PHOZBE. Your eye may be undiscerning, but mine isn't. You don't seem quite to hit it off with your father. HARRY. I don't. (Blows pipe that is stopped- up.) PHOZBE. (Seriously.) But why? HARRY. (Rather bored, but polite.) He has a sort of general down on me. I'm his (busi- ness pipe) damn! I'm his what d'ye call it? PHOZBE. (Suggesting.) Antithesis? HARRY. Got it in one ! (HARRY takes feather from her hat, cleans his pipe. She goes away from him in amazement.') SEARCHLIGHTS 15 I'm sorry for the old man. He's horribly sick because I'm not cut to his confounded pattern. (Throws feather into fire.) If he'd a sense of humour, he'd rejoice. In another way of speaking, I'm his PHCEBE. (Profoundly interested. Crosses to fire, sits on curb.) His complement? HARRY. Sharp little dear you are! Wonderful vocabulary! It's like this. (Rises.) He's a great banker, a money-maker. (Goes C., light- ing pipe.} I'm a money-spender. He's dead nuts on business. I'm dead nuts on having a good time. There you are ! PHCEBE. It seems a pity. HARRY. (Goes to table L.C.) I've stopped worrying over my father's singular want of appreciation of his one and only child. Live and let live, is my motto ! (He laughs genially, and sweeps his fly-dressing materials into box.) PHCEBE. You are certainly alive. (Crosses to C.) HARRY. Full o' beans. (Bangs box on table at back. ) You're a sympathetic little dear, Phoebe. I like talking to you. . . . (Lies on table L.C.) PHCEBE. When there is nobody else more attrac- tive about. (Sits R. of L.C. table.) HARRY. (Examining her critically.) Bless you! You're quite attractive enough. I hate your scornful, swanking beauty. 16 SEARCHLIGHTS PHCEBE. Oh! Thank you! HARRY. You'll make some lucky fellow a jolly little wife. PHCEBE. Knit his stockings for him. (Smiles.) HARRY. Jove ! You're a nailer at that. PHCEBE. Run his house properly? HARRY. Do him top-hole at meals. That's the tip. Come down smiling in the morning. PHCEBE. (Seriously.) Is that all you would want in a wife? HARRY. I shan't be hard to please. SIR ADALBERT. (Off.) Ach ! Und he say to me, "Schmaltzy" he call me Schmaltzy "Schmal- tzy," he say, "you are a dam fool !" (At the sound of SIR ADALBERT'S voice the young people move apart. PHCEBE to fireplace. ) PHCEBE. Here's Father. (SiR ADALBERT enters.) (SiR ADALBERT is rather comical in ap- pearance. He is very sportingly got up, kilts, stockings with skene d'hu and the latest sort of shooting coat. He has slung round him a stalking telescope in a well- polished brown case. He speaks with a German accent.) 17 PHCEBE. I expect you want your tea, daddy? (Crosses to bell at fireplace.} SIR ADALBERT. (Very genially.} I do. I hafe no batience with dose beoples who bretend to despise der bleasures of der table. HARRY. Same here, Sir Adalbert. SIR ADALBERT. (Unctuously.} I lofe my break- fast I lofe my lonch I lofe my tea und I adore my dinner. If I was dying, I think I could eat a dres-s-sed cr-r-rab ! PHCEBE. (Rings bell.} Daddy! It sounds so greedy ! (Enter FEWSON, with letters.} SIR ADALBERT. Come here, Phoebykins! Gif your old fader a kiss. (PHCEBE goes to her father. Bus: then back to fireplace. He kisses her on both cheeks and pinches her plump little chin, chuck- ling and grunting.} HARRY. Talking of smiling faces, where is my father? SIR ADALBERT. He went for a walk in the rain. PHCEBE. Tea here, Fewson. FEWSON. Very good, miss. (FEWSON hands one letter to HARRY, and a big pile to SIR ADALBERT. He places an- other pile on the desk. } 18 SEARCHLIGHTS For Mr. Elaine. SIR ADALBERT. Put dem on der table. Haf dose potted sh-rimps come from Appenrodt's ? (Down to R. of table R.) FEWSON. I think so, Sir Adalbert. SIR ADALBERT. (Rubbing his hands.} Good. Bring dem in to tea. FEWSON. Yes, Sir Adalbert. (Goes out.) SIR ADALBERT. (To HARRY.) Harry, you like potted shr-r-rimps no ? HARRY. I love potted shrimps. (SiR ADALBERT approaches his pile of letters, picks them up with a grimace, and ex- amines them.) HARRY. (Who has opened his letter.) Phew- w-w! (He displays a long bill.) PHOZBE. What a bill ! HARRY. Shan't spoil this happy time by looking at it ! (Throws it into the fire.) PHCEBE. Have you saved enough money out of your allowance to pay it? HARRY. Not a bob ! PHCEBE. You foolish boy ! HARRY. Come off it! How much have you saved out of your allowance eh ? PHCEBE. (Considering.) Twenty-seven pounds. HARRY. I say! (Crosses to C. To SIR ADAL- SEARCHLIGHTS 19 BERT.) Sir Adalbert, do you give Phoebe an enormous allowance? SIR ADALBERT. I gif her enough, Harry. Yes, yes. (Opens a letter.) HARRY. I'm jolly glad I haven't to deal with your correspondence. SIR ADALBERT. (Displaying his shrewdness for the first time.) Und I too am glad you have not, my young friend. HARRY. (To PHCEBE.) One up on me, eh? (Going back to PHCEBE; sits on club-fender.) (SiR ADALBERT betrays excitement.) SIR ADALBERT. Bewundernswiirdig ! PHCEBE. What it is, daddy? SIR ADALBERT. Ach ! She will be pleased yes. PHCEBE. Who will be pleased? SIR ADALBERT. Und he deserve it, too. PHCEBE. Who deserves what? SIR ADALBERT. (Mysteriously.) Himmel! (Goes to door, R.) Dear lady! MRS. ELAINE. (Off.) Yes, Sir Adalbert. (SiR ADALBERT comes down, chuckling, as MRS. ELAINE enters, a tall, distinguished woman, one who has been a beauty in her day.) SIR ADALBERT. (Attitude.) My congratulations. (Taps letter.) 20 SEARCHLIGHTS MRS. ELAINE. (Smiling.) Congratulations? (Enter FEWSON and FOOTMAN. They pro- ceed to set out on the table a very varie- gated and copious tea: cakes, sandwiches, etc. They move quietly and quickly.} SIR ADALBERT. Gott! You English! Always you bretend. But I (taps his chest smartly) I know. Once again, my congratulations ! MRS. ELAINE. (Sincerely.) Sir Adalbert, you are very knowing. But I haven't the remotest idea of what you mean. SIR ADALBERT. Impossible! MRS. ELAINE. Why do you congratulate me so so effusively? SIR ADALBERT. (Staring at her.) So! (A long- drawn exclamation.) Your hosband has not told you ? MRS. ELAINE. (Lightly.) My husband never bothers me with details about his business, thank goodness ! SIR ADALBERT. (Confounded.) But MRS. ELAINE. I suppose he has made another big coup. Congratulate him, not me. SIR ADALBERT. My wonderful news concerns you, too. MRS. ELAINE. (Sharply.) Concerns me? SIR ADALBERT. Intimately. MRS. ELAINE. Then please tell me. SEARCHLIGHTS 21 SIR ADALBERT. No, no your hosband MRS. ELAINE. (Impatiently.) He never tells me anything. SIR ADALBERT. Surely, surely he has brebared you MRS. ELAINE. (More and more curious.) Pre- pared me for what ? SIR ADALBERT. For a great change. MRS. ELAINE. You tantalize me! What has happened ? SIR ADALBERT. (Chuckling.) It is good news, yes. But I cannot speak here. (Glances at servants.) After tea, we will find an obbor- tunity. So! (Chuckling.) MRS. ELAINE. (Firmly.) I shan't enjoy my tea unless I know now. Can't you show me your letter? Didn't this exciting news come in that? SIR ADALBERT. You must enjoy your tea. In str-rict confidence, dear lady. (He hands her the letter, which she reads. Her face betrays amazement. She rises. ) Ach ! Pardon ! I see you did not know. MRS. ELAINE. I am simply thunderstruck! SIR ADALBERT. (Rises. Kisses her hand.) You accept my congratulations now, my lady ? MRS. ELAINE. Thank you very much. SIR ADALBERT. Now you will enjoy the potted 22 SEARCHLIGHTS shr-rimps! Tea, good beoples, tea! (Goes to door.} Milly! Milly! LADY SCHMALTZ. (Off.) Yes, Bertie. SIR ADALBERT. Tea, my lofe, tea. (Enter LADY SCHMALTZ.) LADY SCHMALTZ. Oh dear! It can't be time to eat again ! SIR ADALBERT. My Milly! what nonsense talk! Sit you down! (The MEN-SERVANTS go out. LADY SCHMALTZ sits down, smiling, at head of table. THE OTHERS gather round the table and sit. SIR ADALBERT, at L. of table L.C., points triumphantly at the dif- ferent plates. MRS. ELAINE R. of table L.C.) Cucumber sandwiches! Salmon sandwiches! Goose-liver sandwiches ! Jam sandwiches ! Honey sandwiches ! Nice leedle cakes ! But- tered toast ! For what we are going to receive may der good Gott make us truly thankful! (Sits.) HARRY. Mother looks as if she had received something pleasant already. ( Crosses to above SIR ADALBERT'S chair.) (PHCEBE sits on club fender.) MRS. BLAINE. I have. SEARCHLIGHTS 23 LADY SCHMALTZ. (In a nice fat voice.} Tell us, dear. MRS. ELAINE. (With a certain excitement.) I'll tell you all at dinner. (A general babble fol- lows.} HARRY. Here's Father. (ELAINE enters from the verandah R. to C. He is a big man, very quietly dressed in rough tweeds. For an instant, as he re- moves his cap, he stands still, surveying the company rather grimly.} LADY SCHMALTZ. (Anxiously.} I hope you're not wet, Mr. Elaine ? ELAINE, (Putting down cap R.} Nothing to matter. Have the letters come? HARRY. (Pointing.} Your pile is on the table. SIR ADALBERT. Business before bleasure, my friendt. Sit you down und eat some nice fr-r-resh shr-r-rimps. MRS. ELAINE. Why don't you sit down, Robert ? ELAINE. (Tersely, but not unpleasantly.} Be- cause I prefer to stand. HARRY. (To LADY SCHMALTZ.) Father likes standing. You will see him sit, presently, on me. LADY SCHMALTZ. (Fatly.} Do let me give you a cup of tea. ELAINE. I never touch tea. 24 SEARCHLIGHTS (He walks to desk R., picks up his letters and begins to open them. His wife, who is watching hint, gives a slight shrug of the shoulders.) LADY SCHMALTZ. (Who has been pouring out the tea.) I never can remember, Harry, whether you take sugar or not. HARRY. Two lumps. Thanks. (Takes a cup down to PHOZBE.) (LADY SCHMALTZ smiles at his pleasant face. HARRY goes down to PHCEBE with tea and back to get his own cup.) LADY SCHMALTZ. (To MRS. ELAINE.) You know, my dear, your Harry reminds me so of somebody and I can't think who it is. MRS. ELAINE. (Ignoring the question.) Milly, dear, how old is your Phoebe? LADY SCHMALTZ. I'm sure I don't know. This is September, 1913. Phoebe was born HARRY. I know. Judging by what she's saved, she must be eighty. (Looking at PHCEBE. Sits in wicker chair L.) LADY SCHMALTZ. There! Harry said that just like Who does he remind me of? MRS. ELAINE. (Ignoring the question.) Did you go to Homburg before you came up here? SEARCHLIGHTS 25 LADY SCHMALTZ. No. (Artlessly.) The truth is, I don't like Germans. MRS. ELAINE. My dear Milly! HARRY. One up on you, Sir Adalbert. (ELAINE wanders to the gun cupboard, which he opens. While the others are talking, he takes out a Mauser rifle and looks at it.) SIR ADALBERT. (Genially, and waving a sand- wich.) Ach! It is true, I am Sherman-born. MRS. ELAINE. You are a naturalized English- man, Sir Adalbert. SIR ADALBERT. (With rising excitement.) I am more English than the English. I am Scotch! So! Und I make my money in Shermany. Milly here, she think that the Shermans hate England. LADY SCHMALTZ. Yes; they do. I'm quite sure they do. SIR ADALBERT. That is untrue, my Milly. HARRY. (To PHCEBE.) Now he's fairly off! SIR ADALBERT. (Excitedly.) I tell you, my f riendts, that Shermany Shermany stands for what we English stand for: peace und quiet, und minding our own business. First and last, Shermany means peace. ELAINE. No! (Opens breech.) SIR ADALBERT. What was that? 26 SEARCHLIGHTS MRS. ELAINE. He said no! It's his favorite monosyllable. SIR ADALBERT. Und I say yes. Und I tell you anoder thing. In science yes, und Kultur yes, und industry the arts of peace Sher- many is on top. ELAINE. (In a deep voice.) She makes the best rifles. (His tone challenges attention. Everybody looks at him. ELAINE surveys those pres- ent with a slightly derisive smile. Finally, his glance rests upon SIR ADALBERT.) SIR ADALBERT. (Complacently.} Rifles yes und MRS. ELAINE. Why does Germany make the best rifles, Sir Adalbert? SIR ADALBERT. In de interests of peace, dear lady. ELAINE. Um ! SIR ADALBERT. What do you mean now by your "Urn"? (ELAINE looks at the rifle. When he speaks, there is no animosity in his tone, but a veiled derision.) ELAINE. I think that these rifles may be put to other uses than killing stags. (Puts rifle back. ) SEARCHLIGHTS 27 SIR ADALBERT. I don't understand you, my friendt. ELAINE. I think you do, Schmaltz. (Back to letters.) LADY SCHMALTZ. (Helplessly.) I'm quite sure I don't SIR ADALBERT. (Recovering his genial man- ner.) Ach, my Milly, I will exblain Elaine. So! I haf made a joke. (Chuckles.) He is thinking of dot so foolish play. MRS. ELAINE. What play? SIR ADALBERT. Der Engldnder's Home. I see dot. Milly and Phoebe dey come with me. It make me sick dot play, but (chuckling} between der acts, I slip out to Appenrodt's, und I eat de delicatessen, und I say to myself, What tosh! (ELAINE stares at him, making no reply. SIR ADALBERT begins to gesticulate.) ELAINE. You are grievously mistaken, Schmaltz. (He rises to his full height.) Germany wants war we don't. SIR ADALBERT. Elaine, you are a big man. I haf a sincere respect for you, my friendt. But you take away my appetites, yes. (ELAINE gathers up his letters and moves to door R.) 28 SEARCHLIGHTS MRS. ELAINE. Robert ELAINE. Yes? (At door.') MRS. ELAINE. Are you coming back ? ELAINE. After I have changed my boots. ( Goes out.) HARRY. Um! Another cup of tea, please. (PHCEBE takes cup and goes up to LADY SCHMALTZ.) LADY SCHMALTZ. I do wish I could remember who it is that Harry reminds me of. (Pouring out tea.) PHCEBE. I can tell you, Mummie. LADY SCHMALTZ. Can you? PHCEBE. (Promptly.) Captain Arthur Trevor, V.C. LADY SCHMALTZ. Of course! HARRY. (Lazily.') Who was Captain Arthur Trevor ? LADY SCHMALTZ. I knew him when he was your age, Harry. Such a nice fellow! (The audience will remark that the mention of Trevor's name has slightly startled MRS. ELAINE. MRS. ELAINE, (Nervously.) I knew Captain Trevor. (Turns to PHCEBE.) But he died when you were a child, Phcebe. SEARCHLIGHTS 29 PHCEBE. I never saw Captain Trevor, but I have a photograph of him, which belonged to Mother. I commandeered it because it was so ridiculously like Harry. MRS. ELAINE. (Quietly.) Indeed? You must show it to me. LADY SCHMALTZ. (Reminiscently.) I remem- ber that photo. HARRY. (Rising.) I think I shall try for a fish before dinner. (Crosses to rods at back, R.) SIR ADLBERT. (Rising.) Good! If you catch him, I will help to eat him. Come ; I will show you der best pool. (Crosses to R.) (HARRY gets together his tackle.) LADY SCHMALTZ. A little exercise will do you good, dear. PHCEBE. (Rising.) I'll order a ghillie. SIR ADALBERT. Yes, yes. (PHOZBE goes out, L.) What a good, thoughtful child ! HARRY. Topping ! SIR ADALBERT. Wunderkind ! Gemuthlich ! HARRY. Yah, mein Herr ! I'm ready if you are, Sir Adalbert. SIR ADALBERT. Vorwarts ! HARRY. You'll take a rod, too? 30 SEARCHLIGHTS SIR ADALBERT. No, my young friend; I will take an umbrella. (HARRY goes out C., followed by SIR ADAL- BERT. MRS. ELAINE rises, crosses R., takes cigarette from table R., lights it.} LADY SCHMALTZ. (Comfortably.} Do have an- other cup of tea, Alice. MRS. ELAINE. No, thank you. I didn't know you knew Arthur Trevor. LADY SCHMALTZ. It was a long time ago. He used to chaff me. MRS. ELAINE. He played with me, too. LADY SCHMALTZ. A charming fellow quite ir- resistible. Of course, I was much older than he was. I fell desperately in love with him! And to console me he gave me his photograph. I know now why your dear Harry attracts me so. He has the same pleasant little ways with him. Afterwards, Arthur Trevor changed, didn't he? Not for the better. (Sits R. of L.C. table.} MRS. ELAINE. (Sombrely.} He did, indeed. LADY SCHMALTZ. (Purrs on.} Something soured him. Some woman, probably. I was told that he exposed himself quite too reck- lessly during the Boer War. It was terrible his being shot after getting the V.C. MRS. ELAINE. (With a shudder.} Appalling! SEARCHLIGHTS 31 LADY SCHMALTZ. (Maternally.) My dear, you look positively ill. MRS. BLAINE. It's nothing. (Rises and goes to fireplace.) Phoebe mentioning Arthur Trevor so suddenly upset me. He was a relation of ours which may perhaps account for any like- ness you see between Harry and him. LADY SCHMALTZ. I'm so sorry. Was Arthur Trevor related to you, or your husband ? MRS. ELAINE. To me. After my marriage I lost sight of him for four years. He was in India with his regiment. When he came back he had changed greatly, as you say. Then he drifted out of my life altogether. If my hus- band comes in, will you please tell him that I shall be down directly? (Crossing R.) LADY SCHMALTZ. Certainly. (Rising.) (MRS. BLAINE goes out R. LADY SCHMALTZ sings, and moves to chair R. of L.C. table; picks up a little cake and is nibbling at it zvhen PHCEBE comes in L., carrying a big album, which she places on the table R.) Phcebe, darling. PHCEBE. Yes, Mummie? LADY SCHMALTZ. Come here. (PHCEBE kneels by LADY SCHMALTZ. LADY SCHMALTZ holds her face between her 32 SEARCHLIGHTS hands, which are rather heavily ringed, and kisses the girl fondly.) PHCEBE. Dear Mummie ! LADY SCHMALTZ. Have you anything to tell me? PHCEBE. N-n-no. LADY SCHMALTZ. (Smiling and patting her cheek.) Oh! He has not er ? PHCEBE. (Hastily.) He has not. LADY SCHMALTZ. You like him, dearest? PHCEBE. (Nervously.) I can't help liking him. Sometimes I wish I didn't. (Rises.) LADY SCHMALTZ. Why? PHCEBE. Don't you think he's a wee bit selfish ? (Gently she releases herself, rises, and goes back to table.) LADY SCHMALTZ. My dear! All young men are selfish and most old ones. I shall lie down for half-an-hour. (Crosses to door R.) If you see Mr. Elaine, tell him that Mrs. Elaine will be down directly. (She drifts out.) (PHCEBE stands still for a moment, half- pouting, half-smiling. Then she sits at table, and opens her album.) (ELAINE enters, wearing a thinner coat; crosses C. PHCEBE looks up.) PHCEBE. Mother asked me to tell you SEARCHLIGHTS 33 ELAINE. Yes; I met Lady Schmaltz in the hall. (Comes near to table.) What have you got there? PHCEBE. My album. ELAINE. An autograph album? PHCEBE. More than that. I'll show you what I mean. (Picks out a cutting from an illus- trated paper and holds it up to him.) Who is that? ELAINE. (Examining it.) I don't know. PHGEBE, (Jumping up.) It's you. ELAINE. Nonsense. PHCEBE. Of course it's not really you, but it's awfully like you. Not quite so stern as you are. You after smoking a very good cigar. ELAINE. (Relaxing.) Well, upon my word, I do see a dim resemblance. PHCEBE. I shall stick it into the book, and you must write your autograph under it, and some- thing original. I've a most awfully funny one of Father. I cut it out of the Sketch. It's an advertisement for whisky. (Holds up the album.) ELAINE. (Laughs.) Is he? PHCEBE. Mr. Elaine, I do like you when you joke. But the gem of my collection is Harry. ELAINE. Harry? (Crosses to C.) 34 SEARCHLIGHTS (PHCEBE lays down the album and turns over some pages; she finds a small photo- graph.) PHCEBE. (Holding up photo.) Isn't that Harry to the very life? ELAINE. It is Harry. PHCEBE. (Triumphantly.) No, it isn't. That's the portrait of a hero. ELAINE. (Grimly.) Then it is not Harry. PHCEBE. This is a picture of Captain Arthur Trevor, V.C. ELAINE. (Harshly.) What are you saying? (Takes photo.) PHCEBE. (Surprised.) It's written on the back. Look ! "Arthur Trevor, aetat 25." ELAINE. (Sombrely.) I did not know Arthur Trevor when he was twenty-five. ( Gives back photo.) How did you get that photo ? PHCEBE. It belonged to Mother. (Putting photo back. ) ELAINE. (Absently.) Did it? PHCEBE. Yes ; and, oddly enough, Mother spoke of the likeness to Harry at tea. Mrs. Elaine was so interested. ELAINE. Was she? PHCEBE. And I promised to show her this old photo. That's why I brought down my album. Couldn't you swear it was Harry ? SEARCHLIGHTS 35 ELAINE. Yes. (His rather unresponsive tone is not lost on PHCEBE.) PHCEBE. (Briskly.) Now for your autograph. (Takes him to L. of table. She goes R. of table.) ELAINE. You really want it? Where do I write? (PHCEBE links his arm into hers. He smiles pleasantly. She marches him to the desk, makes him sit down, selects a pen, dips it into the ink, and hands it to him.) PHCEBE. You must write on my celebrity page. Here we are ! Look at that ! (Sitting on table.) ELAINE. (Reading aloud.) "The Queen of Song." What does her Majesty write for you? PHCEBE. (Quoting.) "A beautiful voice is the golden gift of God." ELAINE. Um. Is it? PHCEBE. Of course it is. Now, you write there, please. Something characteristic. ELAINE. ( Writes rapidly. ) How will this do ? PHCEBE. (Reads.) "God's most merciful gift may be silence." (Delightedly.) That's simply splendid! Most characteristic! Now for your signature. (He writes it.) 36 SEARCHLIGHTS What a fine signature ! It means a lot, doesn't it? ELAINE. At the bottom of a cheque? PHCEBE. I mean, there's tremendous character in it. ELAINE. (Amused and relaxing.) Can you read character by handwriting ? PHCEBE. (Modestly.) A little. ELAINE. Read mine. (She, still sitting on table, bends over the album. ELAINE leans back in his chair.) PHCEBE. You are very business-like. Every letter is firmly and carefully formed. You are not a bit conceited. No flourishes. I see tenacity, order, self-restraint, great will-power, and feeling. ELAINE. (Sharply.) Feeling? PHCEBE. You feel things deeply, and you sup- press your feelings. ELAINE. (Challenged.) You're a very sharp young lady. Do you divine this by my hand- writing ? PHCEBE. (Rises from the desk, and looks down upon him.) I won't fib. I divined it just now. When you mentioned Captain Trevor's name. Your voice shook a little. He died splendidly, didn't he? (He nods gravely.) SEARCHLIGHTS 37 And you were thinking of that, weren't you? ELAINE. (Slowly.) I was thinking that death in battle is purging. PHOEBE. (Surprised.) Purging? ELAINE. It wipes out all stains. PHGEBE. (Gravely.) Was there any stain ? ELAINE. Arthur Trevor was a man of thirty- five when he died. (With a lighter manner.) Now, let me read your character. (She sits R. of table, looks at him ingenu- ously. He eyes her from head to foot, slowly and searchingly.) PHOZBE. (With a tiny gasp.) Mr. Elaine, this is rather an ordeal. ELAINE. (Kindly.) From which you need not shrink. You are quick-witted, sympathetic, affectionate, loyal, and dangerously senti- mental. PHOEBE. (With a grimace.) Sentimental? ELAINE. I use the word in its best sense. God help the woman who is without sentiment, and God help the woman who has it in excess. (He. speaks slowly, weighing his words, re- garding her with a kindly smile, which reveals the humanity in the man generally reckoned to be hard and unsympathetic.) So! (Rises.) Beware! (Pats her cheek. He 207182 38 SEARCHLIGHTS holds up a minatory forefinger.) And now, my dear, do me a favour. PHCEBE. With pleasure. ELAINE. (Resuming his cold voice.) My wife wishes to speak to me; and as it's cleared up, I want to go out again. Will you tell her I'm here? PHCEBE. Of course I will. (She runs out.) (At once BLAINE'J manner changes. He becomes alert, watchful. He listens for an instant, and then walks to the album, and opens it. He takes the photograph of TREVOR, stares at it grimly, and then puts it into his pocket-book and pockets it. After a pause, he hears MRS. ELAINE coming, takes a paper, sits and reads.) (MRS. ELAINE enters R.) MRS. ELAINE. (Rather effusively. Above table.) Oh! there you are, my dear Robert. ELAINE. (Without rising.) Lady Schmaltz said you wished to speak to me. MRS. ELAINE. (Gaily.) And don't you wish to speak to me? (Playfully.) What an actor you are, Robert ! Well, is it in the paper ? ELAINE. In the paper? MRS. ELAINE. Why do you tease me? ELAINE. (Quietly.) But I am not teasing you. SEARCHLIGHTS 39 MRS. ELAINE. (Coldly.) You have no special news for me? (Warmly.) Robert, I know. And I am so delighted, so proud of you. ELAINE, Proud of me? (Takes cigarette.) MRS. ELAINE. (Losing her warmth of man- ner.) Just now, Sir Adalbert showed me a letter from a friend of his, a Privy Councillor. You are to be offered a peerage. I congratu- late you from the bottom of my heart. ELAINE. (Rises and goes to L. of L.C. table and lights cigarette while speaking slowly.) Privy Councillors can be indiscreet. Yes; I have been offered a barony. MRS. ELAINE. What will you call yourself ? ELAINE. I have no liking for titles. MRS. ELAINE. (Amazed.) What? (Coming, C.) ELAINE. (Gravely.) You ought to be aware that I dislike them. In fact, I I did not intend to tell you of this. MRS. ELAINE. (Confounded. Crosses to L.C. table. ) You are offered a peerage, and you in- tended to keep so vital a matter a secret from your wife! Why, may I ask? ELAINE. I shall refuse this honour. (Sits in arm-chair above fireplace.) MRS. ELAINE. Refuse it! Are you serious? (He doesn't answer.) Refuse it! Refuse the honour for which I 40 SEARCHLIGHTS have worked so hard for ten years! (Coming to front of table.} ELAINE. You worked for it? MRS. ELAINE. (Fiercely.) Yes yes. I have played your game, not my own. (With in- creasing temper.) Oh! those boring din- ners to your dull business friends those dreary receptions to advance your interests, not mine. What a treadmill! I tell you that you owe this honour very largely to me! ELAINE. Indeed! I fear that I must refuse it, just the same. MRS. ELAINE. You can't! ELAINE. (With finality.) I shall. MRS. ELAINE. (Exasperated almost beyond en- durance. ) But why ? Give me a reason any reason ! ELAINE. I have nothing in common with the aristocracy. MRS. ELAINE. You have me. ELAINE. True. That is quite enough. MRS. ELAINE. You will drive me mad! (Sits L.C.) I believe that you are talking this nonsense on purpose to annoy me. ELAINE. Take care ! One day your temper will drive you to say something you will regret all your life. MRS. ELAINE. I say that your reasons, if you SEARCHLIGHTS 41 have any, are absurd, ridiculous. Besides, apart from us, there is Harry. ELAINE. (Sombrely.) I have not forgotten Harry. MRS. ELAINE. You are defrauding him! ELAINE. Of an honour he is not likely to earn for himself. (Rises.) You must allow me to do as I please in this matter. (He stands up and looks into fire. She stares at him and then approaches him. ) MRS. ELAINE. (More temperately. Rises to front of table.) I am not a snob, Robert, but I feel very strongly about this, on Harry's account. ELAINE. I daresay. You are a devoted mother. I regret sometimes. . . . (Smiles grimly.) MRS. ELAINE. Yes? ELAINE. (Coldly.) Yours was a marriage of convenience. MRS. ELAINE. Be honest! Say ours. ELAINE. (Impassively.) No. MRS. ELAINE. You had brains, Robert; I had position, the connections which would help you. ELAINE. I was not thinking of them when I asked you to become my wife. MRS. ELAINE. I don't understand you. ELAINE. You have never understood me; you 42 SEARCHLIGHTS have never tried to understand me. It is too late to begin now. MRS. ELAINE. You spoke of regrets. What do you regret? ELAINE. The five unhappy years before Harry was born. (He looks at her keenly. She exhibits the faintest trace of confusion. Her teeth meet upon her lozver lip. Then swiftly she assumes her normal mask.) MRS. ELAINE. How oddly you say that ! ELAINE. (Very quietly.) I remember I had given up hopes of a child. When you told me, I was tremendously surprised and pleased. MRS. ELAINE. (Acidly.) You didn't show it. ELAINE. (Heavily.) Perhaps not. And since. . . MRS. ELAINE. Go on! ELAINE. I have wondered whether those first five years when I was working and you were playing, would have been happier if Harry's arrival had been less belated. Hence my regret. (Crosses to R. for cap.) MRS. ELAINE. (L.C.) Robert! If you are sin- cere about any regrets connected with those first years and they were not happy years this is an opportunity to wipe them out. For Harry's sake, please! SEARCHLIGHTS 43 (He stares out, as if he were attempting a bird's-eye glance at past, present, and future.) ELAINE. (R.C.) For Harry's sake! If you must have it, Harry is the obstacle. (She betrays for the second time a hardly perceptible agitation.) The very qualities that may fit a man to serve his country as a peer are often conspicuously absent in his successor. I might have been tempted to accept this honour if Harry had been more like me. MRS. ELAINE. What can you mean? ELAINE. Harry is almost abnormally unlike me. I have watched in vain for anything in Harry I could recognize as mine. To-day, when I was out there on the moors, I thought it all over, and decided to refuse this honour. Robert Elaine will die with me. You have given me a son, but not a successor. It's fine again now. I am going out. (Exit C. to L. MRS. ELAINE is left alone on the stage. Her face indicates her rage and exasperation. She goes to the desk, R., sits, picks up a pen, and then fiings it down. She rises as PHCEBE enters, R.) 44 SEARCHLIGHTS PHCEBE. Has Mr. Elaine gone out? MRS. ELAINE. Yes. PHCEBE. (Coming down to album.} I have got that photo to show you. MRS. ELAINE. (Absently.) What photo? PHCEBE. Captain Arthur Trevor, V.C. MRS. ELAINE. (Wincing.) Oh! Yes I'd like to see it. (PHCEBE turns over the pages of the album, looking for it.) PHCEBE. How extraordinary! MRS. ELAINE. Extraordinary? PHCEBE. It was here ten minutes ago. I showed it to Mr. Elaine. (Laughs.} He thought it was Harry. MRS. ELAINE. (Nervously.} Did he? PHCEBE. He must have taken it. MRS. ELAINE. Absurd ! Why should he take it? PHCEBE. (Confidingly.) I think I can guess. He was very moved. Evidently Captain Trevor was his friend. And, perhaps, he didn't like my joking about the likeness to Harry. (She shuts up the album, and picks it up.} MRS. ELAINE. (Sitting, R.) It's of no con- sequence. (PHCEBE glances at her face and moves to- wards the door.} SEARCHLIGHTS 45 Phoebe, dear PHCEBE. (Pausing at door.) Yes? MRS. ELAINE. (Lightly.) Don't mention this to Mr. Elaine. PHCEBE. Of course not. He suppresses his feelings, doesn't he? MRS. ELAINE. Yes. (PHCEBE goes, humming. MRS. ELAINE be- trays slight agitation. She rises, crosses to the fireplace, and is staring into the glowing embers, as the CURTAIN falls.) ACT II SCENE: Elaine's Library, at his house in the country. TIME: Ten months later, July, 1914. CURTAIN discloses a handsome but rather aus- terely furnished room. There are many books, a few engravings, and a massive desk is piled high with pamphlets and papers L. A sofa is down R. There are windows C., open, disclosing a moonlit garden scene and a terrace outside. Big mahogany doors L. lead to the drawing-room. Fire-place R. and big single door down R. At a card-table L.C., ELAINE and SIR ADALBERT are playing piquet. From the drawing-room comes the sound of a piano. Both men are in evening dress. Chesterfield R. C. Round table at back of it with tray of drinks. SIR ADALBERT. (L., looking at his hand.} I have got you this time, my friend. You are ausgespielt! I haf a point of six. ELAINE. (R., glancing at his scoring-card.) Not good. 46 SEARCHLIGHTS 47 SIR ADALBERT. Ach! You haf kept dose dam diamonds! Himmel!!! My sixieme in clubs no good, hein? ELAINE. Not a bit ! SIR ADALBERT. You are lucky, Elaine! But al- ways, always you are lucky. (He throws down the king of clubs with a gesture of annoyance.) ELAINE. (Counting his hand}. A septieme in diamonds, headed by the ace. Seven and sev- enteen make twenty-four. Fourteen aces ninety-eight. (SCHMALTZ puts down king of clubs. ELAINE covers king with his ace.) Ninety-nine. (Lays down seven diamonds.) One hundred and six. (SiR ADALBERT discards seven cards. ELAINE plays his two aces.) One hundred and eight. Give you the rest. One hundred and eighteen. (Picks up scoring card. ) Big hand ! You're rubiconed, Schmaltz. SIR ADALBERT. (Adding up his score.) Ninety- eight ! ELAINE. Three hundred and forty-seven. SIR ADALBERT. Siebenteen pounds, sieben shil- lings. Gott! I most send you a cheque, Elaine. 48 SEARCHLIGHTS ELAINE. Give you your revenge? SIR ADALBERT. (Getting up.} No, no. ELAINE. (Rising.) Have a cigar? SIR ADALBERT. I don't mind if I do. Your cigars are good. (BLAINE goes to round table R.C. He gets box, and offers it to SIR ADALBERT, who selects a cigar. While BLAINE is fetching the cigars SIR ADALBERT stands C., listen- ing to the music.) SIR ADALBERT. My leetle Phoebe ! She play fine, hein? BLAINE. Almost professionally. (Hands cut- ter.) SIR ADALBERT. Shermany, my friend. You haf to go to Shermany for music, yes. Und many oder things, yes. (Puffs contentedly, goes to fireplace R. and lights cigar.) BLAINE. Yes. Waiters. SIR ADALBERT. (Sinking into settee.) Elaine,! should like fine to interest you more in Sher- many. ELAINE. (Slowly.) I am profoundly interested in Germany. SIR ADALBERT. But you put no money into Sher- man enterprises. BLAINE. Not a farthing. SIR ADALBERT. (Sits on couch.) Ach! You SEARCHLIGHTS 49 believe all der nonsense-talk about war. It is foolishness, Elaine, dam foolishness. I like to bet you a tausand pounds about that. BLAINE. You've lost seventeen already. SIR ADALBERT. Himmel ! Yes. BLAINE. You have no interests outside Ger- many SIR ADALBERT. (Beaming.) No, no. I put my eggs in one basket, my friendt, und I watch that basket. (Hastens to double doors L., opens one and applauds loudly.) Bravo! Bravo! Beautiful! Wunderschon! (Ad- dressing. PHCEBE off.) I haf lost siebenteen pounds, but I forget it when she play Phoebe, my little Phcebe! BLAINE. (Tinkles glass.) Have a drink? SIR ADALBERT. A drink? BLAINE. You will find two kinds of beer over there light and dark. SIR ADALBERT. Dunkel und Hell! (Crosses to table R.C.) BLAINE. I suppose you take Hell. (Crosses C.) SIR ADALBERT. (Going to tray.) Why, my friendt ? BLAINE. (Drily.) As a change. You don't get it at home. (Crosses to fireplace R.) SIR ADALBERT. But I do. Ach! it is a joke! (Laughs.) (Calls.) Milly! Phcebe! Come you here. I haf a joke. 50 SEARCHLIGHTS ELAINE. (Hastily.) Don't repeat that silly joke, Schmaltz. (Enter LADY SCHMALTZ, MRS. ELAINE, PHCEBE, and HARRY. LADY SCHMALTZ to head of couch, MRS. ELAINE to card-table, HARRY to desk.) SIR ADALBERT. (Uncorking his bottle.) It is a good joke, Elaine, and you make few jokes hem? Milly, Phoebe, listen to my joke! (Ad- dresses the women. ) My good f riendt, know- ing that when I hear Tannhduser I want to drink nice Sherman beer, provides me with two kinds Dunkel und Hell. Und den he say: I subbose ELAINE. Schmaltz ! Please ! MRS. ELAINE. Go on, Sir Adalbert. My hus- band's jokes are rare indeed. SIR ADALBERT. So gomblimentary, too. He say : I subbose you take Hell. Und I say: Why? Und he say: Because you never get Hell at home. (Doubles himself up with laughter.) It was dam funny, and dam gomblimentary. (Drinks.) HARRY. Good for you, Sir Adalbert. LADY SCHMALTZ. (Helplessly.) I am so stupid. I don't see the joke. Bertie does get Hell at home. We are never without it. I order it direct from Bavaria. SEARCHLIGHTS 51 (HARRY and PHCEBE laugh.) What are they laughing at? SIR ADALBERT. I can't think. HARRY. (At window.) I say, Phcebe PHCEBE. Yes? HARRY. Come on out. (PHCEBE crosses up R.) ELAINE. Harry, ask Tremlett if there's a tele- gram for me. (HARRY rings bell above fire- place. ) SIR ADALBERT. (Anxiously.) Phcebykins, der dew is heavy. HARRY. I'll keep off the grass, Sir Adalbert. SIR ADALBERT. (Winks comically.) I dond't tink! (Enter TREMLETT L.) TREMLETT. Yes, sir? HARRY. Mr. Blaine wants to know if there's a telegram for him. TREMLETT. (To BLAINE.) No, sir. (Exit.) HARRY. No, sir. Come on, Phoebe. (HARRY and PHCEBE go out together C. to L.) ELAINE. Have a rubber? (Crosses to card- table.) 52 SEARCHLIGHTS MRS. ELAINE. (To LADY SCHMALTZ.) Would you like a rubber? LADY SCHMALTZ. I play so badly, my dear. SIR ADALBERT. You can play with me, my Milly. I dond't care. Her blunders Himmel! dey make me laugh. (Turns to MRS. ELAINE.) LADY SCHMALTZ. I don't like to be laughed at, Bertie. (Sits on settee.) SIR ADALBERT. (Finishes his beer.) Good. We make conversations instead. (Crosses to fire- place.) MRS. ELAINE. (Crosses to couch head.) Sir Adalbert SIR ADALBERT. Dear lady, yes? MRS. ELAINE. Are you at all anxious about this Servian question? SIR ADALBERT. All anxieties is der Teufel! When I am anxious I cannot sleep, no. Und when I cannot sleep I lose my appetites, so! Und when I lose my appetites, I am no man. But my poor Elaine, he is funksticks, yes. (Chuckles.) (SiR ADALBERT crosses to R. of card-table. MRS. ELAINE sits on arm of couch.) ELAINE. I am. (He has sat down to card-table and begins to lay out a patience.) SIR ADALBERT. (Beaming at everyone.) I do SEARCHLIGHTS 53 not understand! you, Elaine. You are so dif- ferent from me. MRS. ELAINE. He is. SIR ADALBERT. Dot beerage hein ? You refuse it! Vyso? MRS. ELAINE. (Sarcastically.} He has nothing in common with the aristocracy. SIR ADALBERT. I vhas proudt, dear lady, when dey make me Knight of the Victorian Order. I jump at it. MRS. ELAINE. It set the seal on your naturaliza- tion papers. SIR ADALBERT. (Very expansively.) For my- self I care leetle ; but it please Milly to be mi- ladi. She jump at it. LADY SCHMALTZ. Bertie, I never jump! SIR ADALBERT. Not now, my Milly. (To ELAINE.) And you haf a fine son, a nice young man. I like 'im, yes, your Harry. MRS. ELAINE. (With feeling.) Thank you, Sir Adalbert. (Goes to fireplace.) Harry has a very warm regard for you and yours. SIR ADALBERT. (Staring at ELAINE, who is tran- quilly playing Patience.) Ach! It beats me that you do not tink of der family, der unit of national life. So ! Dat dam silly game interest you, hein? ELAINE. Patience? it does. SIR ADALBERT. (Shrewdly, winking at the oth- 54 SEARCHLIGHTS ers.) I know. Because, my friendt, you play it by yourself. Oho ! you are not at der mercy of a stoopid pardner hein? ELAINE. I am not. Have a game of billiards a hundred up? (Rises,) SIR ADALBERT. You gif me fifty in a hundred, und I play you double or quits for der sieben- teen pounds. ELAINE. Certainly. SIR ADALBERT. (Rises.) Milly! Send Phceby- kins to bed soon. She must haf her beauty- sleeps. ELAINE. Another drink ? (Up at door.) SIR ADALBERT. No yes. I take 'em to der bil- liard-room. (As ELAINE goes out L., SIR ADALBERT seizes a small bottle of lager, brandishes it, and follows his host.) MRS. ELAINE. Sir Adalbert SIR ADALBERT. (At door.) Dear lady? MRS. ELAINE. Hadn't you better take a glass, too? SIR ADALBERT. No ; I drink out of der bottle. It keep me young. (He goes out L., chuckling.) MRS. ELAINE. He is wrapped up in you and Phoebe, Milly. SEARCHLIGHTS 55 LADY SCHMALTZ. (Comfortably}. Bless him! MRS. ELAINE. He doesn't get hell at home. LADY SCHMALTZ. But he does! Oh-h-h! I see Bertie's joke. (Laughs.) MRS. BLAINE. It was Robert's joke. LADY SCHMALTZ. How dense of me, to be sure ! I must try to remember that, dear. MRS. BLAINE. I must try to forget it. LADY SCHMALTZ. (Mildly surprised at the tone of her hostess.) Why, Alice, you MRS. BLAINE. (Sits R. of LADY SCHMALTZ on couch.) I shall not pretend with you. Robert wished Sir Adalbert to infer that I I made home life impossible. He wanted to get his knife into me. LADY SCHMALTZ. (Soothingly.) No, no. (Shakes head.) MRS. BLAINE. (Vehemently.} And it's true true. Life in this house is becoming more in- tolerable every day. The servants notice it. All my intimate friends know it, and pity me behind my back. LADY SCHMALTZ. Shush-h-h! MRS. BLAINE. And I am helpless. I can do nothing. I would leave him to-mor- row LADY SCHMALTZ. Alice! MRS. BLAINE. if it were not for Harry. It is (rises and goes C.) hell here hell for 56 SEARCHLIGHTS Harry, hell for him, and hell for me. (Breaks down.) LADY SCHMALTZ. (Terribly flustered and quite helpless. ) Alice ! My dear ! What can I say ? I I (Puts handkerchief to her eyes, and gulps.) MRS. ELAINE. I am a fool, and a beast to inflict my troubles on you. (Dabs fiercely at her eyes.) But it was the sight of your simple happiness which broke me up. It's over. (She pats LADY SCHMALTZ on the shoulder. LADY SCHMALTZ sobs.) It is sweet of you to be sorry for me. (Big sob.) Milly you must stop. (Goes to back of couch.) LADY SCHMALTZ. Ica-c-can't! (Sobs.) MRS. ELAINE. (Half laughing.) I shall shake you, if you don't. (She gives her a little shake. LADY SCHMALTZ quivers like a felly.) There ! LADY SCHMALTZ. (Tearfully.) I had better go to bed. I always look so awful when I cry. Yes ; I'll go to bed. (Rises.) MRS. ELAINE. (Going C., contritely.) Perhaps it would be better. Sir Adalbert would never forgive me. SEARCHLIGHTS 57 (LADY SCHMALTZ moves towards the door R., and pauses.} LADY SCHMALTZ. (Still tearful.) I can't. MRS. ELAINE. Can't what? LADY SCHMALTZ. Go to bed. MRS. ELAINE. Why ever not? LADY SCHMALTZ. Phoebe is in the garden. I promised Bertie. And I'm sure it's very damp out there. MRS. ELAINE. It's getting very damp in here. You slip off, Milly. I'll look after Phoebe. LADY SCHMALTZ. You'll call her in? MRS. ELAINE. Yes, yes. LADY SCHMALTZ. At once? MRS. ELAINE. Regardless of Harry's feelings at once. LADY SCHMALTZ. Then I'll go. (She turns.) MRS. ELAINE. Kiss me, dear, and forgive me. (The two women embrace affectionately.) Good-night, Milly. LADY SCHMALTZ. Good-night, Alice. (LADY SCHMALTZ goes out R., with her handkerchief to her eyes. MRS. ELAINE goes to little table R. C. She takes up the cut-glass decanter of brandy and looks at it. Obviously she is tempted to fortify herself. Then she makes a grimace, shrugs 58 SEARCHLIGHTS her shoulders, puts down the decanter, and walks slowly to the open windows C. She stands for a moment staring into the moonlight. She steps on to the terrace, and calls.) MRS. ELAINE. Coo-ee! Coo-ee! HARRY. (Off.) Coo-ee! MRS. ELAINE. Come in, you two. HARRY. (Off.) Not much! MRS. ELAINE. Yes ; be good, obedient children. (She comes back, with a kind smile on her face. ) (HARRY and PHCEBE enter.) (MRS. ELAINE sits on settee. PHCEBE stands by table by settee.) HARRY. (Genially.) Shame! (Goes back of couch to fireplace.) MRS. ELAINE. It's half-past eleven. PHCEBE. Where's Mother? MRS. ELAINE. Your dear mother has gone to bed. Quite fagged out. Don't disturb her. She made me promise to call you in. She thought you might catch cold. HARRY. We weren't cold, were we, Phoebe? PHCEBE. Mummie is a darling old fuss-pot. MRS. ELAINE. Sir Adalbert is playing billiards. SEARCHLIGHTS 59 (At tray. Offers glass to PHCEBE.) Will you have barley water or lemonade? PHCEBE. No, thanks. Good night. (Comes round to MRS. ELAINE.) MRS. ELAINE. (Kissing her.) Good night, you dear little thing. PHCEBE. Good night, Harry. (Holds out her hand. ) HARRY. (C.) Nighty-night. (He opens door R. PHCEBE passes him, then turns. He moves to her, and hidden by door from MRS. ELAINE, kisses her hand. ) (PHCEBE goes out R.) (MRS. ELAINE sitting. HARRY wanders to fireplace. He doesn't look at his mother, whose eyes are keenly set upon him.} MRS. ELAINE. (In a soft voice.) Was it warm in the garden, Harry? HARRY. It was rather snug. MRS. ELAINE. She is very fond of you. HARRY. (Gravely.) She is. MRS. ELAINE. (Sharply.) You are not playing with her, amusing yourself at her expense ? HARRY. (Crosses C.) I'm in a hole, Mother. MRS. ELAINE. Another? HARRY. (Moodily.) The bottomless pit this time. 60 SEARCHLIGHTS MRS. ELAINE. (Quietly.) Tell me. HARRY. I nestled up to that little dear to-night. I very nearly came to grips with her, but . . . MRS. ELAINE. You didn't? HARRY. I didn't. MRS. ELAINE. (Leaning forward.) Why not? HARRY. I must speak to Father first. MRS. ELAINE. (Derisively.) You are display- ing a delicacy and nicety of behaviour which is refreshingly old-fashioned. HARRY. (Slowly.) I owe three thousand pounds MRS. ELAINE. Harry! HARRY. More or less. MRS. ELAINE. Help! HARRY. (Takes cigarette from case.) There it is. If Father will stump up, I can marry Phoebe. Unfortunately, he won't. (Sits R. of card-table. ) Hence my allusion to the bottom- less pit. (Lights cigarette.) MRS. ELAINE. (Reflecting.) Three thousand pounds is a scratch of the pen to him. HARRY. Last time he paid up he imposed condi- tions. MRS. ELAINE. He would ! (Rises and stands by fire.) HARRY. He made me promise that I would not exceed my allowance. He was rather decent about it. SEARCHLIGHTS 61 MRS. ELAINE. Why did you break your prom- ise? HARRY. (Sits on head of settee. Rises and goes to couch.) Because I'm a fool. You see, I wanted clinkin' good polo ponies. Had to pay ready for 'em. So I tried backing dead cer- tainties. MRS. ELAINE. Which were left on the post! HARRY. (Grinning, sits on couch.) Rummy go that Father's one and only son should be such a mug! MRS. ELAINE. And then? (Sits R. of HARRY.) HARRY. I er accepted a very pressin' invita- tion to call upon Mister (gesture indicating shape of large nose) Isaac Gordon. Once in his parlour bif ! (MRS. ELAINE laughs. So does HARRY.) HARRY. I say, Mother, Old Gordon Highlander does know a soft thing when he sees it. He had me to rights! (Doubles with laughter, and then suddenly stiffens and grows grave at sight of his mother's face. She rises and goes C.) Why do you look at me so coldly? MRS. ELAINE. I am thinking of your father. HARRY. (Slips down on settee. Ruefully.) So am I, by Jove ! Well, there it is ! I've been a fool, but I'm not knave enough to propose marriage to Phcebe with this over my head. 62 SEARCHLIGHTS (MRS. ELAINE sits on arm of couch and places her hand on his shoulder.) MRS. ELAINE. Harry, do you love Phoebe ? HARRY. (Uneasily.) She's one of the best. MRS. ELAINE. Do you love her? HARRY. (Lying full length on settee.) She'll make me a topping little wife. If you must have it, I'm not madly in love. I don't love her as much as I love you. (Looks up at his mother.) As a matter of fact, I don't know that I could be madly in love with anybody. I'm a cool sort of cove. I've made up my mind that this marriage will be the saving of me. By the luck of things, old Schmaltzy thinks Father the biggest man on earth. Milady is fond of you. Phoebe, little dear, has taken a shine to me. Bar this debt, I've a sitter. MRS. ELAINE. I will speak to your father. (Goes C.) HARRY. (Sits up quickly.) I say, is that fair on you? MRS. ELAINE. I'll be nice to him. HARRY. (Gesture of winding head of couch.) Wind him up, eh? MRS. ELAINE. For your sake yes. HARRY. Will you speak to him to-night? MRS. ELAINE. I will. Sir Adalbert is an early bird. They'll be here in a minute or two. You SEARCHLIGHTS 63 slip off with Sir Adalbert. But don't go to bed. Hang about the billiard-room, because you may be wanted. HARRY. I shall be wanted right enough. (He beckons her. She sits L. of him.) You are a dear. I I wish that I was a better chap, on your account. I wish that I was more like Father. It's odd, isn't it ? that I've none of of his what d'you call it? his er MRS. ELAINE. Chronic capacity for coming out on top. Cheer up, you have a heart, Harry, which is bigger than his head. (He kisses her again. She takes his hand.) That is what counts with me. (She has been lying back with her eyes half shut, as if she were gloating over his ca- resses. Suddenly she turns, listening.) I hear them coming. (HARRY moves from her, and leans against the mantelpiece.) HARRY. You're in for a rotten time, Mother. (SiR ADALBERT enters L., followed by ELAINE, who goes to desk. SIR ADALBERT exhibits exuberant spirits.) SIR ADALBERT. I beat him ! I beat him ! Und we are quits ! I play der game of my life. I 64 SEARCHLIGHTS make my fifty in ten minutes und I drink my beer. Now I go to bed. (Crossing R.) HARRY. Deutschland uber alles ! SIR ADALBERT. (Beaming.) But I am English. HARRY. Gott mit uns ! SIR ADALBERT. You haf your jokes, Harry. Good-night, everybody! HARRY. (Going to door.) Good-night. MRS. ELAINE. Good-night, Sir Adalbert. (Rises.) SIR ADALBERT. Good-night, Elaine. ELAINE. Good-night. (SiR ADALBERT goes out L. HARRY follows him leisurely and comes back to end of couch and makes gesture of winding up ELAINE. ELAINE goes to his desk and sits, turns on electric lamp, pushing aside some papers with the air of a man about to tackle some work.) MRS. ELAINE. (At table R.C., in her pleasantest voice.) Shall I get you a small drink, Robert? ELAINE. (Half turning to stare at her.) Thanks, no. Well, yes, a very small one. (She pours out whiskey and soda, and takes cigar from box. As she fetches the drink he watches her with a faint smile upon his face. She brings a cigar with it.) SEARCHLIGHTS 65 ELAINE. (Taking a drink.) Thank you. MRS. ELAINE. (Cuts cigar.) A cigar? I have cut the end. ELAINE. Thanks. (Takes it.) (She strikes the match, and he takes it.) MRS. ELAINE. Sir Adalbert beat you! (Up stage end of desk.) ELAINE. (Apparently surrendering to her pleas- ant manner.) I let him. MRS. ELAINE. Because you hate robbing a guest. ELAINE. (With a laugh.) Schmaltz is a duffer at everything except his own particular job, and he doesn't know too much about that. MRS. ELAINE. I have never known what his own particular job is. ELAINE. He's the typical German man of busi- ness; capable of indefatigable energy and un- limited enthusiasm. Like most of his race, he can only see one point of view. He believes in Germany's commercial prosperity, which has been phenomenal. He has been shrewd enough to invest money in all those big enterprises which are distinctively Teuton. And he is able to persuade Englishmen to do the same. Schmaltz has negotiated some immense loans. He has earned huge commissions. And every farthing has gone back to Germany. MRS. ELAINE. How clearly you put things! 66 SEARCHLIGHTS Thank you, Robert. (He turns to his papers.) (C.) Have you work to do ? ELAINE. I have always work to do. MRS. ELAINE. Aren't you afraid sometimes of overworking yourself ? ELAINE. (Intensely.) Would you care much if I did? (Turns to her.) (She remains silent, nervously regarding him.) I am a fool to ask that question. As the family bread-winner, my health does concern you. Well, I am what the doctors call "a good life." I am likely to make old bones. (Resumes writ- ing.) MRS. ELAINE. (Protestingly.) Robert! ELAINE. Good-night. MRS. ELAINE. (Faltering.) Robert, I have something of importance to say. ELAINE. (Swings round sharply.) I thought so. MRS. ELAINE. What do you mean ? ELAINE. I ought to know that warning purr in your voice by this time. You want something. What is it? MRS. ELAINE. Nothing. (He laughs incredulously.) Nothing for myself. SEARCHLIGHTS 67 (He stares at her. She does not meet his keen gaze.) ELAINE. Harry is in trouble ? (She winces slightly, because he speaks so decidedly, and with an accent of contempt. Crosses to L. side of desk.) MRS. ELAINE. (Faltering.) How sharp you are! ELAINE. Why can't he come straight to me? Why does he send you ? MRS. ELAINE. You are unjust to him, and mis- taken. (Sits L. of desk.) Harry is no coward. He wanted to come to you, but I asked him to let me speak first. ELAINE. Why? (He has his pen in his hand. He plays with it impatiently.) MRS. ELAINE. He is so young. ELAINE. Twenty-five. At twenty-five I was earning fifteen hundred a year. MRS. ELAINE. (Trying to be pleasant.) But you didn't know how to spend money. He does. ELAINE. That is your teaching, not mine. MRS. ELAINE. He is very ignorant of you. ELAINE. (Icily.) Let me have the facts as briefly as it is possible for a woman to state them. 68 SEARCHLIGHTS MRS. ELAINE. The boy is in debt. BLAINE. Again? (She nods.) How much? MRS. BLAINE. He owes three thousand pounds, more or less afraid that means more. You gave 5,000 to a charity the other day. BLAINE. It was a deserving one. MRS. BLAINE. (Tartly.) You mean you won't help him? BLAINE. Not in that way. Does Harry owe this money to tradesmen who can wait? MRS. BLAINE. No to a gentleman who won't. BLAINE. To whom? MRS. BLAINE. Mr. Isaac Gordon. BLAINE. A brother Guardsman ? MRS. BLAINE. A money-lender. BLAINE. Really! Anything else? MRS. BLAINE. Isn't that enough for the mo- ment? BLAINE. Quite enough ; but I can tell from your manner that your plans for Harry's future in- clude more than my settling his debts. MRS. BLAINE. I think he had better leave the army. It leads nowhere except to Mr. Gor- don. I want him to marry. BLAINE. Marry! Who is she? Wait! (Rises.) (She is about to speak. He silences her with a gesture. He spreads out the fin- gers of his right hand, obviously checking SEARCHLIGHTS 69 in his mind certain names. Then suddenly he clenches his fist.) Phoebe Schmaltz! MRS. ELAINE. (Rises.) Yes. Why do you frown ? ELAINE. The last woman I should have chosen for him. MRS. ELAINE. Her father is a friend of ours. ELAINE. Exactly ! As you say, a friend. (Crosses to R. C.) MRS. ELAINE. Phoebe simply adores Harry. Sir Adalbert would settle an immense sum on her. (Crosses to L. C.) ELAINE. Does Harry adore Phoebe? MRS. ELAINE. He is ready to marry her. ELAINE. That's quite another thing. (Enter TREMLETT, with telegram; presents it to ELAINE.) MRS. ELAINE. A telegram at this hour ! TREMLETT. By special messenger from London, ma'am. MRS. ELAINE. How strange ! ELAINE. (To TREMLETT.) No answer. Ask Mr. Harry to come here. TREMLETT. (Going. Stops.) Mr. Harry is in 70 SEARCHLIGHTS the billiard-room, sir. (Crosses at back and exit L.} MRS. ELAINE. (Rising.} You won't be hard on Harry? ELAINE. I shall listen patiently to what he has to say. I ask you to listen too. (She goes up to door, hesitates, turns and comes down a couple of steps. Her voice is soft and caressing.} MRS. ELAINE. I want him to be happy. ELAINE. Because you have been unhappy? (Crosses to -fireplace R.} MRS. ELAINE. (Almost inaudibly.} Ye-es. ELAINE. Your logic is amazing. If a marriage of convenience resulted disastrously for you, why do you anticipate a different result for your son ? (Enter HARRY L.; goes up back by window; goes to table R.C., winding gesture; pours out drink. MRS. ELAINE sits L. of card- table. ELAINE reads telegram again, frowning heavily; puts it in pocket.} (To HARRY.) Dutch courage? HARRY. I didn't funk it, sir. I wanted Mother to keep out of it. As between man and man SEARCHLIGHTS 71 ELAINE. You affirm yourself to be a man? MRS. ELAINE. Robert! HARRY. That's all right, Mother. I don't mind his ragging me. I wish you'd go to bed. (Crossing and sitting R. of card-table, puts glass on floor. R., puts hands in pockets, sticks legs out.) (ELAINE sits on couch and copies him, at which he draws his feet in.) ELAINE. You are in debt again? (He nods.) Two years ago I paid your debts in full. MRS. ELAINE. Not in full. ELAINE, What? MRS. ELAINE. He hadn't the nerve to turn in the lot. ELAINE. (Coldly.) He lied. (HARRY takes a drink first drink; keeps glass in hand. He faces his father inge- nuously.) HARRY. I had gone to a money-lander for a couple of hundred ; and I knew, of course, that that would make you chatter with rage. ELAINE. Indeed! You lied deliberately? HARRY. I suppose I was afraid to speak all the truth. 72 SEARCHLIGHTS ELAINE. I paid your debts upon your solemn pledge to me that you would not incur more. You have a liberal allowance. I warned you that if you broke that pledge, I should not chatter with rage and then pay up, but HARRY. (Rising towards him.) All right. You don't mean to pay up. ELAINE. Have you anything more to say? MRS. ELAINE. (Driven.) I have. As the son of a very rich man you don't understand ; you've never been the son of a very rich man Harry was expected to do certain things. He played polo as it's played in his regiment. He raced a bit. He got badly hit. He went to ELAINE. Mr. Gordon. HARRY. (Second drink; then puts glass on tray.) Yes. Now I want to chuck it. ELAINE. Chuck the Army? HARRY. Rather not ! Chuck being a fool. ELAINE. Your mother mentioned your leaving the Army. HARRY. (Ruefully.) Oh ! I say ! That's a bit thick. (To her. Crosses to R. of card-table, sits.) (MRS. ELAINE takes his hand. He refuses her.) MRS. ELAINE. Well, dear HARRY. Of course there's always your bank. SEARCHLIGHTS 73 BLAINE. (Derisively.) What do you think you could do in my bank? MRS. BLAINE. Surely he could help you. BLAINE. (Grimly.) Harry has never helped me. Occasionally I have asked him to do me some small service. Invariably he rings for a servant to do it. HARRY. Sorry! (Hands in pockets, feet out.) BLAINE. What do you think you would be worth to me in the bank? HARRY. Hanged if I know ! BLAINE. I will tell you. You are fairly intelli- gent; you have bad manners (HARRY draws his feet back.) and plenty of cheek, which is an asset. The energy which you devote to the pursuit of pleasure might prove of value to me if you concentrated it on business. As an experi- ment, binding upon neither party, I might of- fer you seventy-five pounds a year. HARRY. (Rising.) Chuck the Brigade for that! Not much ! ( Goes down L. to desk, picks up pen.) BLAINE. It is not easy to make money, Harry. I understand from your mother that you contem- plate marrying it. HARRY. Phoebe is a jolly little thing. BLAINE. She is. 74 SEARCHLIGHTS HARRY. (Warmly.) I'm glad you see her good points. , ELAINE. I think I do. HARRY. (Confidently.) I'm sure we should hit it off and be as happy as larks. ELAINE. What? HARRY. (Fluttering his hand.) Larks. (Sits on desk, feet on chair.) Sir Adalbert would want me to chuck soldiering. I fancy he left the happy Fatherland to escape conscription. If I did go into the bank (pen in ear) he would give me Phoebe at once, with his bless- ing. ELAINE. And something more substantial. HARRY. (Flippantly.) It would be no blessing without that. If I didn't give satisfaction in the bank, I could clear out. ( Throws pen away. Gets off desk.) I could help old Schmaltzy a lot. (Crosses C.) (He looks quite himself, genially cool and self-possessed. ELAINE. Help "old Schmaltzy" in his office? HARRY. (Turning to him C. quite seriously.) No; out of it! He has a deal to learn, has Schmaltzy. He can't run his deer forest. I could take charge of his sporting interests. I could buy his horses. ELAINE. And ride them ? SEARCHLIGHTS 75 HARRY. (At table, playing with glasses.) You bet! (Goes up C.) He would leave all that to me. I'd be a good son to the old boy. But I must pay my debts. I can't ask Phcebe's father to pay 'em. ELAINE. I believe you could. HARRY. Anyway, Phoebe is willing enough. (Down C. a little.') ELAINE. (Sharply.) You've spoken to her ? HARRY. Not yet. ELAINE. Don't. HARRY. (Defiantly.') Why not? ELAINE. (Rises, to fireplace. Coldly.) Because I object to the marriage. HARRY. Well I'm damned ! And you won't pay my debts ? ELAINE. (Shakes his head.) No. HARRY. (Folds his arms. R.C.) You can queer my pitch, but if you do (ELAINE raises his brows.) It will be beastly unpaternal. I leave it at that. Good night. (Crosses and goes out, whistling, R.) MRS. ELAINE. (Rises.) Why do you object to Phoebe? ELAINE. (Drily.) I don't object to Phoebe. I object to Harry. If Schmaltz is fool enough to support Harry, he can. I wash my hands of 76 SEARCHLIGHTS this detestable marriage of convenience. Let me never hear it mentioned again. (Walking backwards and forwards. Goes up to window.} MRS. ELAINE. (Much agitated.) You are a hard man, Robert. ELAINE. You have often said so. I am a man of my word. MRS. ELAINE. (Approaching and touching him at C.} Pay the boy's debts! ELAINE. (R.C.) Why don't you pay them? MRS. ELAINE. (L.C.} I? ELAINE. (Coldly.} Those pearls. I gave some thousands for them. Pearls have gone up in value. Give them to me. I'll sell them to settle Harry's debts, and hand over the balance to you. MRS. ELAINE. (With a derisive smile.} I am afraid, Robert, they won't fetch much. ELAINE. What do you mean? MRS. ELAINE. I sold the original necklace many years ago. These are sham. ELAINE. (Astonished.} Harry's weakness for getting into debt comes from you. MRS. ELAINE. I sold them to pay debts, true, but not my own debts. ELAINE. (Fiercely.} Whose? MRS. ELAINE. My father's. ELAINE. My wedding gift! MRS. ELAINE. You need not remind me of that. SEARCHLIGHTS 77 Yes ; it was part of the price paid for me. You bought me, Robert. ELAINE. (Grimly.') I have made better bar- gains since. (Throws cigarette into fire.) MRS. ELAINE. (Trembling, at head of couch.) When you say things like that, you make me ELAINE. Go on. MRS. ELAINE. (Intensely.) Hate you. ELAINE. (Turning to her.) You hate me when I refuse to gratify your wishes, however un- reasonable they may be. (Sits on couch.) MRS. ELAINE. (Excitedly.). I won't be crushed and humiliated ! ELAINE. Humiliated ! MRS. ELAINE. (To head of couch. Slowly.) I have it in my power to humiliate you. (Pause.) Don't drive me to do that! I ask you for the last time to help Harry. ELAINE. Because he is your son, or mine ? MRS. ELAINE. (Evasively.) He is our son. ELAINE. (Deliberately.) There have been mo- ments when I have questioned that. Only the children of love, so we are told, take after the father. Is that why I can trace no re- semblance in Harry to myself? MRS. ELAINE. (Excitedly.) Will you help Harry? ELAINE. (Icily.) No. MRS. ELAINE. I can read your thoughts. And, 78 SEARCHLIGHTS as usual, you are right right! (She laughs disdainfully, carried away by anger and dis- appointment.) There is nothing of you in Harry, thank God! ELAINE. (Rising.) That was my impression. (They face each other.) MRS. ELAINE. (Violently.') You don't yet un- derstand. Harry is my son, not yours. ELAINE. (Slowly.) He is Trevor's son. (Pause.) You admit that? MRS. ELAINE. (Violently.) I admit it, and glory in it to you. There is not a drop of your cold blood in Harry's veins. (MRS. ELAINE, alarmed at her own words. ELAINE crosses to the writing-table, opens drawer, and takes up a sheet of paper. He sits down and writes rapidly.) ELAINE. If Harry is not my son, the situation is altered. Sign that paper, and I will settle his debts. (Comes back slozvly to R.C.) (MRS. ELAINE goes to desk, reads paper without taking it.) (A pause follows. MRS. ELAINE reads paper, staring at it.) MRS. ELAINE. "I swear that my husband is not SEARCHLIGHTS 79 i the father of my son Harry." (Hoarsely.) I don't understand. ELAINE. I think you do. I have never under- rated your intelligence where your own in- terests are vitally concerned. ^ MRS. ELAINE. (Falteringly, sitting at desk.) If I sign this paper, what will you do with it? (Takes up pen idly.) ELAINE. Isn't that my affair? By signing it at once you gain your end. MRS. ELAINE. (Still sitting.) In a moment of anger I told you the truth, a truth which I should deny publicly (puts down pen) so long as breath remained in my body. Legally, Harry is your son. You cannot wash your hands of him, or of me, by signing a paltry cheque for 3,000. (Rises.) ELAINE. So be it ! MRS. ELAINE. I shall push on this marriage. Harry must leave the Army. (She is going to the door R. He stops her at C.) ELAINE. (R.C.) Wait! (She stops C., arrested by his tone. He takes from his pocket the telegram.) This telegram is in cipher. It seems that I have not been mistaken. I have never believed 80 SEARCHLIGHTS in the chances of peace. I knew that Germany would strike with all her strength when her hour came. It has come. My most trusted agent in Berlin he's seldom wrong tells me that Germany is mobilising secretly. She means war with France and Russia. MRS. ELAINE. War! ELAINE. If I know the temper of this country and I do we shall be involved. If Harry sends in his papers, they will not be accepted. MRS. ELAINE. Ah! ELAINE. It will be an appalling conflict. MRS. ELAINE. War ! It can't be ! ELAINE. My informant knorvs. If a force is sent out of this country, the Guards will be amongst the first to go. MRS. ELAINE. (Overcome.} Oh-h-h! My God! (Comes up C., then turns.} (ELAINE to desk and sits.) (Entreatingly.) Robert, you are a just man. If Harry has to go, release him from this burden. I'll make it up to you. (Hurriedly crossing to him.) I said just now that you bought me, as you have bought everything that you wanted. I was dear to you then. Because of that, Robert, be kind to me now. I'll I'll (She breaks off, gasping.) ELAINE. You are an Englishwoman. This is no SEARCHLIGHTS 81 time for whimpering. This war will have in- calculable effects upon all of us. (A pause.) I can promise you this. If your son falls on the field of honour, I will pay his debts. No such stain shall rest upon his memory. Now go! (He tears up telegram.') (As MRS. ELAINE opens door R.) CURTAIN. ACT III SCENE: ELAINE'S drawing-room in Portland Place. TIME: October, 1914. CURTAIN discloses the front drawing-room. It is furnished in exquisite taste, a fitting back- ground for a distinguished hostess. Fire- place, L. Settee R.C., arm-chairs L.C., and by fire, with small table between piano, U.L. Big doors C. open into the back drawing- room, which has been fitted up as a tempo- rary bedroom. A door R. opens into a hand- some corridor. (ELAINE is alone in the room, walking up and down. He pauses to listen. ) (Enter TREMLETT R., from corridor.) TREMLETT. Mr. Monypenny, sir, by appoint- ment. I have shown him into the library. ELAINE. Very good. (TREMLETT turns.) Wait! Ask him to come up here. 82 SEARCHLIGHTS 83 (Business till MONYPENNY is announced. He is a brisk, rosy little solicitor.) TREMLETT. (Announcing.} Mr. Monypenny. (Goes out.) MONYPENNY. (Effusively.) My dear Sir (Shakes hands.) ELAINE. Morning, Monypenny. You have car- ried out my instructions ? MONYPENNY. (Professionally.) Yes, yes. (Puts hat, gloves, and bag on piano L., and produces a blue paper from bag.) Mr. Harry's debts are paid. I have here Mr. Gordon's receipt in full. (Hands him receipt.) 3,751 9s nd. ELAINE. (Taking it; sitting on settee R.C.) Thank you. Um! Three thousand pounds more or less. MONYPENNY. (Genially.) It was a bit more, but youth must have its fling. ELAINE. (Drily.) Do you say that to your own son ? MONYPENNY. Ah! Mr. Elaine, we mustn't be too hard on our soldier lads. This war has melted many a heart. Brightened some mean streets. ELAINE. Has it in London? MONYPENNY. I've seen it with my own clients. Searchlights. Searchlights in dark places, Mr. Elaine. 84 SEARCHLIGHTS ELAINE. Good morning. (Rises, shakes hands, goes L.) MONYPENNY. (Picking up hat, etc.) Well, well, I congratulate you with all my heart. I heard that Mr. Harry returned last night. How is he ? ELAINE. The doctor is with him now. MONYPENNY. Indeed? A good report, I trust? (Conies C.) ELAINE. I have not heard it yet. (Drily.) There isn't much amiss. MONYPENNY. I am rejoiced, my dear sir; re- joiced. An only son! So valuable a young life! ELAINE. (Pause.) Good morning. (Shakes hands again.) (MONYPENNY moves to door.) MONYPENNY. (At door.) Good morning. My heartiest good wishes to your son. These gallant young fellows! Rather expensive! Good morning. (Goes out R.) ELAINE. Damned old (ELAINE crosses to writing-table R., ex- amines receipt and puts it in his pocket. One of the big doors C. opens. FIRMIN comes in, followed by MRS. ELAINE, who closes door softly. FIRMIN is an alert, middle-aged doctor, clean-shaven.) SEARCHLIGHTS 85 ELAINE. (Silently awaiting him.} Well? FIRMIN. (R.C., pleasantly.) In a sense it is well. MRS. ELAINE. (L.C., anxiously.) In a sense? FIRMIN. (Looking from husband to wife, but finally addressing the man.) For all the or- dinary purposes of life your son will recover, and recover soon. MRS. ELAINE. Thank God ! (Sits in arm-chair L.C.) He looked better than I expected when I met him at Charing Cross. FIRMIN. (Sitting in small chair by couch. Lift- ing a hand. ) At the same time ELAINE. Yes? FIRMIN (With finality.) He must serve his country in some capacity other than a soldier. MRS. ELAINE. Why? Sunstroke is not a very serious affair. FIRMIN. (Professionally.) Sunstroke, followed by typhoid fever, even in a mild form MRS. ELAINE. He was inoculated before he went to France. FIRMIN. So he told me. Inoculation is not an absolute preventive. The sunstroke was severe; and for some years he must exercise discretion. Never overtire himself. That is all. ELAINE. He will have to leave the Army ? FIRMIN. He must go before his Medical Board. 86 SEARCHLIGHTS But their decision is inevitable. In fact, with- out vanity, I can say that if there were any doubt in a cerebral case of this kind, I should probably be consulted. MRS. ELAINE. It will be a dreadful blow to him. FIRMIN. I fear so. The pipeclay seems to be in his marrow. He has an excellent constitu- tion (rises, looks at ELAINE) like his father. I will call again in three days' time. MRS. ELAINE. (Rises.) Call to-morrow, Dr. Firmin. FIRMIN. I am not wanted. It's very pleasant to say that. (He bows formally.) (ELAINE touches electric bell. MRS. ELAINE holds out her hand.) MRS. ELAINE. What can Harry do ? FIRMIN. Um! (Considers.) I suggest his father's bank. MRS. ELAINE. Doctor, would this sunstroke pre- vent his marriage? FIRMIN. Marriage would be a capital thing for him, and keep him quiet. Good-bye. (Shakes hands.) (Crosses to ELAINE. Shakes hands.) Marriage paternal responsibilities keep us all quiet. (Exit FIRMIN R.) ELAINE. You will tell Harry? SEARCHLIGHTS 87 MRS. ELAINE. Yes. (He turns to leave the room.} Robert (Her voice indicates anxiety rather than distress. ELAINE pauses to look keenly at her.) ELAINE. (Kindly.) Can I do anything for you? MRS. ELAINE. You can, but you won't. (Goes on, as he raises his brows in interrogation.) Phoebe is coming here. ELAINE. (Sharply.) Phoebe Schmaltz? Why? (He frowns.) MRS. ELAINE. She has a right to come. ELAINE. (Approaching nearer.) A right? MRS. ELAINE. Phoebe and Harry are engaged. ELAINE. Without my knowledge ! MRS. ELAINE. I thought your heart would soften. (Exit ELAINE.) (MRS. ELAINE makes a gesture, goes up to C. door and opens it.) You can bring him in, Nurse. (HARRY appears. He is in a dressing-gown, without either collar or tie. He looks pale 88 SEARCHLIGHTS and thin, but very cheery. The NURSE L., carrying rug, supports him, and MRS. ELAINE R., assists.} HARRY. I'm all right, Mother. Bless you! I can walk alone. MRS. ELAINE. (Smiling.} You'll have to put up with some coddling, for my sake. (He laughs and kisses her cheek. NURSE and MRS. ELAINE instal him comfortably in arm-chair L.C.} MRS. ELAINE. Is the light too strong? HARRY. Come off it! NURSE. He's a bit above himself this morning. HARRY. I'm at home. (Grins cheerfully.} MRS. ELAINE. I'll call you, Nurse, in a few minutes. (NURSE arranges a light rug about his knees. MRS. ELAINE watches her with rather a set face. HARRY winks. The Nurse goes back into bedroom, closing door.} HARRY. You're jealous of my nurse! MRS. ELAINE. (Smiling.} Perhaps I am. HARRY. What did old Pill-box say? I feel fit enough to join again in a week. (MRS. ELAINE draws a light chair from L. of settee near to him, and sits. She takes his hand and strokes it.} SEARCHLIGHTS 89 You dear thing! I know it's a bit rough on you, but I'm simply mad to be at it again. MRS. ELAINE. Are you ? HARRY. Hang it ! We must admit that I haven't had my innings yet. I was clean bowled in the first over. Sunstroke! Rotten luck! MRS. ELAINE. How did it happen? HARRY. (With a grimace.') Running away at Mons. We legged it, I can tell you, under a blazing sun. We had to. They were five to one. I thought we were going to be wiped out. I lost my cap. We got into a better position, and then I felt beastly sick. I don't remember anything else till I found myself in a field hospital. Humiliating, I call it! (He frowns.) And our fellows have done wonders ever since. MRS. ELAINE. You did your duty, Harry. HARRY. I've done nothing nothing ! MRS. ELAINE. (With emphasis.) Two splendid things. HARRY. What ? Are you pullin' my leg ? MRS. ELAINE. I went to Netley Hospital about a fortnight ago, and saw a wounded Tommy Godwin. HARRY. Godwin ? He was in my platoon. MRS. ELAINE. Godwin told me that during the retreat from Mons, when the men were begin- 90 SEARCHLIGHTS ning to fall out, you kept them going with your jokes. HARRY. What rot! MRS. ELAINE. And he said that when a bridge you had just passed over was being badly shelled, you ran back to put a wounded horse out of his misery. HARRY. I'm so sorry for the horses. Anybody would have done it. MRS. ELAINE. I am proud indeed that it was you, Harry. (Presses his hand.) You are all I have, dear; and you came back to me only last night. HARRY. I know, Mother. All the same, I er MRS. ELAINE. Wait. The doctor is quite satis- fied HARRY. Hooray! Ask the Governor to give him double fees. MRS. ELAINE. (Nervously.) He says you have a fine constitution. HARRY. I get that from Father. He's as tough as they make 'em. He was rather decent when I rolled up yesterday. MRS. ELAINE. (With sivi ft change.) To return to your health, Harry HARRY. (Eagerly.) I say, what topping news for little Phoebe ! She must have worried most awfully. (Eagerly.) Have you told Father about my engagement ? SEARCHLIGHTS 91 MRS. ELAINE. I told him just now. HARRY. What did he say? MRS. ELAINE. (Rises.) Nothing. His mind is fixed. I can read him. He'll oppose this marriage tooth and nail. HARRY. Um ! When is Phoebe coming ? MRS. ELAINE. I am expecting her mother and her at twelve. HARRY. (Glancing at a fine clock on mantel- piece.) What! And you let me sit here in this kit! (Rises.) I must fix up at once. (MRS. ELAINE pulls him gently down into chair; she stands at back of him, hands on shoulders.) MRS. ELAINE. No hurry. (Incisively.) Harry,do you want to marry Phoebe against your father's wish? HARRY. Mother! Do you think I'd chuck the little dear now ? You amaze me. MRS. ELAINE. I wanted to make sure. You must face the fact bravely that you are ab- solutely dependent upon your father. (Her voice is almost inaudible.) HARRY. (Cheerily.) Right O! After all, he is my father. We've not hit it off quite up to date, but this war has changed things and people. Lawsy! hasn't it just changed me! 92 SEARCHLIGHTS I shall deal gently with Father. And when he sees how keen I am to go back (MRS. ELAINE moves to R. of chair.) and do something which will make him proud of his son, why, then (She sobs.) Mother, what's the matter ? (He sees that MRS. ELAINE is profoundly moved. ) HARRY. You're not crying ? Cheer up ! Things will be brighter. I'm out for a D.S.O. MRS. ELAINE. (Choked.) Stop! (She turns and sits R. of him. He stares at her in astonishment.) Harry (she speaks in a low, thrilling voice) you can't go back. HARRY. Can't I just! MRS. ELAINE. This sunstroke HARRY. What of it? I'm ashamed to mention it. MRS. ELAINE. (Controlling herself, very ten- derly.) It was more serious than you think. (Takes his hand.) For a long time you will have to be careful. The doctor says so posi- tively. They won't let you go back. SEARCHLIGHTS 93 (She nods sorrowfully.} HARRY. (Excitedly.) You mean that? They won't have me? You are telling me (he falters) that I'm scrapped! MRS. ELAINE. (Hastily.) Harry, darling, you mustn't excite yourself. I would spare you if I could, but it's true. You must leave the Army (rises) HARRY. Oh, my God! MRS. BLAINE. and try something else. ( There is silence. MRS. BLAINE kisses him, crosses in front to L.) HARRY. It's all right, Mother. It was a nasty knock. Give me time. I won't grouse about it. I (The door opens and TREMLETT appears, R.) MRS. BLAINE. What is it, Tremlett? TREMLETT. Sir Keith and Lady Howard, and Miss Howard HARRY. Who the devil is Sir Keith Howard? MRS. BLAINE. Sir Adalbert Schmaltz. He has changed his name. Ask them to come up, Tremlett. (TREMLETT goes out.) 94 SEARCHLIGHTS HARRY. Changed his name! They mustn't see me like this. Hi ! Nurse ! What ho ! NURSE. (Off.) Coming! (NURSE enters C., down L. of Harry.) HARRY. Get me out of this quick! (Bus. Exeunt HARRY and NURSE.) (TREMLETT ushers in LADY SCHMALTZ, fol- lowed by PHCEBE and SIR ADALBERT.) (SiR ADALBERT looks comically smart in London kit. LADY SCHMALTZ is quietly dressed, but wears handsome furs. PHCEBE is looking her prettiest.) (LADY SCHMALTZ to couch, PHCEBE L.C., SIR ADALBERT to L.) TREMLETT. (Announcing sonorously.) Sir Keith and Lady Howard. Miss Howard. MRS. ELAINE. You dear things ! SIR ADALBERT. Und here we are again! MRS. ELAINE. (To TREMLETT.) Tell Mr. Elaine that Sir Keith is here. TREMLETT. Very good, madam. (Goes out, slightly smiling.) (General greetings.) SIR ADALBERT. So ! Harry is home again ? LADY SCHMALTZ. We were so glad to get your wire. PHCEBE. Mrs. Elaine, how is he? (Sits L.C.) SEARCHLIGHTS 95 MRS. ELAINE. (Gravely, sits on couch.) You must be prepared for a change. He is white and thin, but his spirits are wonderful. SIR ADALBERT. Ach! those Shermans! I haf relations, yes. I should like to stick my um- brella into der stomach of my fat cousin, Fritz. (Makes a lunge and crosses round C. to piano, puts down hat and umbrella.) So! PHCEBE. (Laughing.) Poor Father is furious with the Germans. He drinks English lager, and has bought a Gillette safety razor, because his razors were made in Germany. SIR ADALBERT. Und I change my name. I take der best. (Comes C.) (Enter ELAINE; comes C., shakes hands with SIR ADALBERT, then with LADY SCHMALTZ over couch.) LADY SCHMALTZ. (Plaintively.) I can't get ac- customed to it. ELAINE. How are you, Schmaltz ? SIR ADALBERT. (Shaking hands with ELAINE.) Howar-r-rd, my friend, Howar-r-rd. Do you know what der English for Schmaltz is? (ELAINE shakes his head.) It means suet. My poor friend Koenig, he call himself King; my poor friend Golden- baum, he call himself Goldtree. But I I 96 SEARCHLIGHTS could I call myself Sir Adalbert Suet? No! LADY SCHMALTZ. Certainly not. Don't be fool- ish, Bertie. SIR ADALBERT. I haf lost my money, I haf lost my business, but I keep der family. Milly haf her diamonts (going L.) und some monies I gif her. We shall lif in a cottage. I like cottages. I shall schmoke der pipe. I shall plant my own cabbages. So ! ELAINE. Schmaltz! (Crosses to SIR ADALBERT, who is L.) SIR ADALBERT. Howard ! ELAINE. I beg your pardon. My dear Howard, you have taken this change in your fortunes like a Briton. SIR ADALBERT. I haf lost my money, but you, Elaine, haf made more money? (Rubbing his hands.) Good! Den it will be all right for der young beoples. (ELAINE goes to door R. MRS. ELAINE and LADY SCHMALTZ talking in a low -voice.) PHCEBE. (Rises, and down to SIR ADALBERT.) Father, dear, please don't mix up business with this visit. SIR ADALBERT. Business, my Phoebykins! The wedding bells was ringing in my ears. (Bits. of bell sounds.) Und Harry? His vounds are healing nice? SEARCHLIGHTS 97 ELAINE. Harry was not wounded. PHCEBE. (Reproachfully.) Father, I told you it was sunstroke and fever. SIR ADALBERT. Sunstroke und fever, yes. My good friend, I wish I had a brave son like yours. (Crosses to ELAINE, who is R.C. above settee.) ELAINE. Come and smoke a cigar with me downstairs. SIR ADALBERT. ( Taking hat and umbrella from piano.) I haf given up cigars. I smoke der pipe. It is good, der pipe. Yes we economize. I drink English lager (makes a grimace). It is my ponishment for having been born in Bavaria. ELAINE. One cigar? SIR ADALBERT. It would be Sherman manners to refuse. (ELAINE leads him off R.) PHCEBE. (To C.) Mrs. Elaine, I know I mean, I (Gasping.) Of course Father losing his money will make a difference. LADY SCHMALTZ. Yes; Phoebe is ready to re- lease Harry. (To MRS. ELAINE.) PHCEBE. Father doesn't know that Mr. Elaine objects. Mother thought it better not to tell him. MRS. ELAINE. You haven't told him? 98 SEARCHLIGHTS LADY SCHMALTZ. (Upset.) Not yet. I so hate being bustled and hustled. MRS. ELAINE. But you must tell him ! LADY SCHMALTZ. My dear, he's had so much to worry him lately. MRS. ELAINE. Robert may be telling him now. LADY SCHMALTZ. Oh! (Rises.) How I wish I could go home and lie down for half an hour! PHOZBE. We hoped that Mr. Elaine would melt. MRS. ELAINE. In November ! He is as cold as ice even in the dog-days. LADY SCHMALTZ. Oh, dear! Oh, dear! Alice won't you tell Bertie ? MRS. ELAINE. I have said too many disagree- able things to my own husband. LADY SCHMALTZ. (Rising desperately.) Then, I'll do it now. Mr. Blame's cigars always put Bertie into a good temper. (Walks round C. to door. At door.} Dear man! How lucky that I ordered a dressed crab for his lunch ! (Exit LADY SCHMALTZ, R. MRS. ELAINE rises.) PHCEBE. Poor Mother! MRS. ELAINE. Do you think Harry wishes to be released ? PHOSBE. I don't know. I MRS. ELAINE. You shall settle it with him. SEARCHLIGHTS 99 PHCEBE. Can I see him alone ? MRS. ELAINE. He is looking forward to that. PHCEBE. May I go to him now ? MRS. ELAINE. He will come here. Nurse is dressing him. He came back with a beard. PHCEBE. A beard ! MRS. ELAINE. In patches. He was shaved this morning; he's quite presentable now. But he mustn't be excited. PHCEBE. I promise you that. MRS. ELAINE. I hope things will come right, but they're in a sad muddle. I wish PHCEBE. Yes ? MRS. ELAINE. That we were all more like you. (Kiss.) The loss of this money hasn't affected Sir Adalbert. I'll fetch Harry. (She goes out C.) (PHCEBE assumes an expectant smile.) (HARRY comes in to C., with MRS. ELAINE at back. He has smartened himself up. He wears a light grey suit and a becom- ing tie. PHCEBE L.C.) HARRY. You look rippin', Phoebe. (Takes both her hands.} PHCEBE. Oh, Harry, how thankful I am to see you again ! You are thin ! HARRY. Nice riding weight. 100 SEARCHLIGHTS (They install him as before, but he shoves the light rug aside. MRS. ELAINE offers rug.} I'm warm enough. The sight of Phoebe would warm a skeleton. MRS. ELAINE. I shall be downstairs. HARRY. With Father ? MRS. ELAINE. (Going.) Downstairs. (Puts rug on settee.) (She goes out. PHCEBE is following her.) HARRY. Give me a kiss, Phoebe. (She kisses him lightly on brow, from R. back of chair.) Can't you put more ginger into it ? PHCEBE. (Sits R. of him. Demurely.) You mustn't be excited. Doctor's orders! HARRY. I got your letters. PHCEBE. I didn't get many of yours. Before you went into hospital, I mean. HARRY. Hadn't a minute! Never changed my clothes for ten days. Never thought I'd see you again. PHCEBE. What did you think about during those awful days ? HARRY. Mostly food. All the jolly good din- ners I'd eaten at the Ritz and Savoy. We had SEARCHLIGHTS 101 bully beef and mangoldwurzels for three days. Lord ! what indigestion I did have ! (Groans.) PHOEBE. What else did you think about? HARRY. Peace quiet. The gunning got on one's nerves. I used to imagine myself in a punt in some quiet backwater of the Thames, with the bees buzzing in the willows. (Sighs,) PHCEBE. Alone in a punt! HARRY. Not alone, Phcebe. (Smiles.) There was a jolly girl with me. PHCEBE. I expect you have taken lots of girls out in punts. HARRY. I have. Did I ever take you, dear ? PHCEBE. Never. HARRY. (Smiles again.) We must put that right next summer. PHCEBE. (Rises, to C. Nervously.) I'm not a very jolly girl now, Harry. HARRY. Why not? PHCEBE. (Turns to him.) Haven't they told you? HARRY. Told me what? PHCEBE. Poor Father is ruined. He never be- lieved in war don't you remember? His money was in Germany. And now HARRY. (In a low voice.) Good lord! PHCEBE. Your father, Harry, has made more money. HARRY. Your father will make more, too. 102 SEARCHLIGHTS PHCEBE. He is rather old. Mother has a small income. (Crosses L.) (A pause.) HARRY. I say, Phoebe, this war has been an eye- opener for some of us. (PHCEBE sits on small table L. of him.) HARRY. I'll tell you, just between our two selves, that I was out for Death or Glory. I wanted to to "make good." I wanted to see something in the Governor's eyes which I'd never seen. PHCEBE. (Incredulously.) And you haven't seen it? HARRY. Not yet. He thinks a lot of success. I have not been a shining success yet, have I ? PHCEBE. (Softly.) You want to go back? HARRY. Not quite so much as I did. Phoebe, dear I can't go back. PHCEBE. Oh, Harry! HARRY. (Takes her right hand.) I want to ask you to forgive me. PHCEBE. (Sadly.) I understand. (Kneels L. of HARRY.) HARRY. (Decisively.) I must make a clean breast of it. It's a dirty job, but I shan't rest easy till I've done it. I made up to you, you SEARCHLIGHTS 103 jolly little thing. I (Hesitates.) Oh, hang it! PHCEBE. (Softly.) I'll say what you can't, Harry. HARRY. Eh ? PHCEBE. (Simply, but with dignity.) It will be easier for you. You were nice to me such a dear, that I thought you cared as as much as I cared. But after you'd gone, when I used to lie awake at night and think over every word you'd ever said to me, I I well, some- how, I began to get frightened. HARRY. (Eagerly.) Phoebe! PHCEBE. (Laying her finger upon his lips.) Let me finish. I used to walk in the Park. I saw some of our Tommies saying good-bye to their best girls, and then I knew . . . (Her voice dies away. There is a significant pause.) HARRY. Tell me what you knew. PHCEBE. That you liked me, that you thought I might make you a good wife, but that you didn't love me as I wanted to be loved. (Sit- ting back on her heels.) (Another pause.) HARRY. (Awkwardly.} I was badly in debt, Phoebe. I was rather desperate. And and 104 SEARCHLIGHTS your people liked me. Now I come to the jumping-off place. Sit tight! The fact that you were a big heiress did count. When Father refused point-blank to pay my debts, I I opened fire on you against his wishes. PHCEBE. I know. HARRY. (Positively.} He objected confound him! He still objects. But I went ahead, be- cause I counted on your father to pull me out of my hole. (With a groan of despair.) My God ! what a cad I feel ! PHCEBE. I understand everything. {Kneels up again.) HARRY. You're a wonder. (Takes her hands.) Well, dear, over there, when I made certain that I should never see you again, I went over, as you did, all that had passed between us, and I began to loathe myself. I began to think it would be a jolly good thing for you if I was potted. PHCEBE. Oh-h-h ! HARRY. (In a low voice.) I used to think of your kisses the day before I went. How sweet you were ! PHCEBE. Isn't this too much for you, Harry? (He takes her hand and grips it.) HARRY. (Hoarsely.) I must get it off my chest. Over there, in the dark, a sort of mental light SEARCHLIGHTS 105 came to me. I saw myself clearly, and I saw you, you dear, dear thing. PHCEBE. (Almost breaking down.} Harry, you may be able to stand this. I can't! (Sinks back on heels.) (Slight pause.) HARRY. You must. (Firmly.) Two women shone out of the darkness. PHCEBE. Two women? HARRY. You and (pause) mother. Aha! I spoofed you there, Miss Schmaltz! (Laughs lightly; then his voice changes and deepens.) Can you ever forgive me ? PHCEBE. You know I can, and do. HARRY. I have given you the powder first. Now for the jam such as it is ! (Takes her hands.) To-day, I want you as you wanted me. 7 love you. (She gives a little quiver.) Whatever the future holds for me, Phoebe, it must hold you, or it will be no future at all. (She stares at him. He smiles reassuringly and nods his head. Her face gradually lights up.) PHCEBE. (Ecstatically.) Say it again! HARRY. I love you! 106 SEARCHLIGHTS (She gives a little gasp of satisfaction.) You don't believe? If you will do exactly what I tell you, I'll make you believe. Will you ? (She nods shyly.) Put both your little arms around me. (She does so with an adorable modesty.) Put your lips on mine. (Kiss.) No shirking! (Bus ad lib.) (Triumphantly.) There! Do you believe me now? PHOZBE. (Releasing herself.) Yes, I do, Harry. You are strong ! (He lies back in his chair.) HARRY. (With a weak laugh.) I kept every ounce of strength I had for that hug. Now, let me look at you, and gloat ! (He stares at her. She -wriggles a little as she sees how his handsome eyes are de- vouring her.) I'm recovering quickly. The doctor spoke of my recuperative powers. This is the medicine my system needs. Repeat the dose! (Pulls her to him.) PHOEBE. Be sensible! HARRY. (Decisively.) Love is the only sensible thing in life. Come on ! SEARCHLIGHTS 107 (Another lingering embrace.) Now I'll be sensible. (In a business-like tone.) I've got to tackle Father. PHCEBE. (Rises.) You aren't strong enough for that. HARRY. Yes, I am. PHCEBE. (Anxiously.) What will you say to him? HARRY. You wait and see. Fetch him. He's downstairs in his den. If I'm to get well I must know exactly how I stand with him. You nip off now. (PHCEBE rises slowly, to C., not liking her errand.) PHCEBE. Let your mother break the ice. HARRY. Never again. We tried that before, with disastrous results. PHCEBE. Then you want to see him alone ? HARRY. Alone! I don't think! I must have numerical strength to outflank him. I want you to stand by and Mother. Tell her. PHCEBE, If you insist HARRY. (Masterfully.) I do. Cut along! (She goes to door R., hesitates, smiles, runs back and gives him another kiss, and then vanishes with a laugh.) 108 SEARCHLIGHTS ( The NURSE comes in silently, puts medicine and chart on table L.C., and gets rug from settee.) (HARRY, with a wink visible to the audience, closes his eyes and feigns sleep. The NURSE bends down. HARRY opens his eyes cautiously. The NURSE comes back. Medicine on table. HARRY hears her and closes eyes again. The NURSE listens, hear- ing some slight noise outside. She puts rug around HARRY'S knees. (MRS. ELAINE appears first. NURSE, with finger upon lip, imposes silence. MRS. ELAINE approaches HARRY.) (ELAINE appears R., down to C. Then PHCEBE.) NURSE. Shush-h-h! (L. of HARRY.) (ELAINE'S face is quite impassive.) MRS. ELAINE. (Approaching ontiptoe.) Asleep! (In a whisper.) Dear fellow ! HARRY. (Opening his eyes.) Spoofed the lot of you ! Never was more wide-awake. NURSE. Time for your medicine. HARRY. Ugh! Father ELAINE. Yes ? HARRY. Father, keep puffing away. I want SEARCHLIGHTS 109 something to take the everlasting taste of qui- nine out of my mouth. Cheer ho ! (NURSE presents glass, which HARRY takes with a grimace, and drinks. NURSE takes empty glass, marks a chart which she carries, and goes to door. PHOZBE re- mains up.) NURSE. (At door.) No excitements, please ! HARRY. Right ho! You come and fetch me in five minutes. (NURSE goes out.) MRS. ELAINE. (Bending over him.) Quite comfy? (Back of HARRY'S chair.) HARRY. Ask Father to sit in that chair. (He indicates the arm-chair down L. BLAINE crosses and sits.) HARRY. Where's Phoebe? PHOZBE. (Coming down.) Here. (Sits in chair L.C.) HARRY. (Draws her to him.) You can hold my hand, if you like. (PHOEBE hesitates.) MRS. BLAINE. (Anxiously.) Please humour him, my dear. (PHCEBE sits in the upright chair. BLAINE has sat doivn in the arm-chair. MRS. 110 SEARCHLIGHTS BLAINE remains standing. HARRY holds PHCEBE'S hand.) HARRY. I suppose you saw Firmin, Father ? BLAINE. I did. HARRY. And he told you that I should have to chuck soldiering? BLAINE. He made that quite plain to me. HARRY. I shall have to ask for a stool in your bank, after all. BLAINE. (Quietly.) We will talk about your future some other time. HARRY. Now, please. (BLAINE makes a gesture indicating protest but acquiescence.) HARRY. I've caused you a lot of worry, Father. BLAINE. (Drily.) You have. HARRY. I'm sorry. Will you give me a billet, when I'm ready for it ? BLAINE. (Evasively.) I have told you what I think of your business capacity. HARRY. I suppose you know that I engaged my- self to Phcebe just before I went out? BLAINE. (Stiffly.) Your mother informed me of that. HARRY. At that time Sir Adalbert was a very rich man. Phoebe tells me that this war has practically ruined him. SEARCHLIGHTS 111 ELAINE. (Glances at PHCEBE.) Your father will weather this storm. He is a born money- maker. HARRY. Quite so. But I am not. ELAINE. No ? HARRY. As a soldier I'm down and out. I want to marry Phoebe, and she wants to marry me ; but what have you got to say about it ? ELAINE. You want to marry Phoebe ? HARRY. (Intensely.) More than anything else in the world. ELAINE. ( Gravely. ) Sure of that ? HARRY. Quite. ELAINE. Irrespective of my wishes? HARRY. (Humbly.) Of course we are dependent upon you. ELAINE. (Incisively.) You are. Would you face poverty with Phoebe? HARRY. (Speaking almost rudely, with great vehemence.) Yes, I would! ELAINE. I must talk this over with your mother. HARRY. Now ? ELAINE. Now. HARRY. (To PHCEBE.) Take me out, dear. (HARRY rises. PHCEBE glances at ELAINE, who nods impassively. PHCEBE takes rug and hold of HARRY'S arm; assists him to rise, then goes to door C.) 112 SEARCHLIGHTS MRS. ELAINE. (C.L. of HARRY. Impulsively.} Before you go, let me say this. Harry, your happiness is dearer to me than my own. HARRY. I know that, Mother. MRS. ELAINE. I would do anything to help you anything but ELAINE. (Interrupting.} The Nurse forbade excitements. ( Makes a gesture. } (HARRY goes out with PHCEBE. He turns at the door to wave an encouraging hand at his mother. MRS. ELAINE closes C. doors.) MRS. ELAINE. (Standing near door.} Robert. You hold in your strong hand my future and Harry's. ELAINE. Some months ago I asked you to sign this paper. If I provide for Harry and Phoebe, will you sign it now? (Takes paper from pocket.} MRS. ELAINE. (Coming closer to him.} I un- derstand what you want. Such a paper would free you from me and Harry. ELAINE. Yes. MRS. ELAINE. I won't sign it. I won't give you the chance of making my son nameless. ELAINE. You are thinking only of him? MRS. ELAINE. (At head of couch. Passion- ately.} You know that I am not thinking of SEARCHLIGHTS 113 myself. I am beyond caring what you do or say to me, far beyond any thought of self. (Sits L.C.) All that passed from me during those agonizing weeks in September. (Scorn- fully,) We were told to carry on as usual! Has any man or woman in the kingdom car- ried on as usual, except you? (A pause.) What have been your thoughts ? Ah ! (Laughs derisively.) I had forgotten. You have made money out of this war, which you had pre- pared for. ELAINE. As you say, I had prepared for it. That's all. (Rises.) I will admit to you that I should have liked a child of my own, a daughter like Phoebe who might be as tender an object of solicitude to me as Harry is to you. I am not too old to marry again, if if I were free. (He gently knocks the ash from his cigar.) MRS. ELAINE. (Abruptly.) Why did you object to Phcebe as a wife for Harry? ELAINE. I considered that Phoebe Schmaltz was too good a girl to marry your son. MRS. ELAINE. How you hate Harry 1 ELAINE. That surprises you? He isn't my son. (Crosses behind her to R.C.) 114 SEARCHLIGHTS (Her face is hidden from him, but not from the audience. It must be evident that some new thought has come to her, that she is nerving herself for a fresh attack upon the man who is quietly smoking, master of the situation. Her interlaced fingers, her twisted face and a furtive glance serve to indicate her emotion.') MRS. ELAINE. (Rises. Down a little to L.) Do you hate Harry for himself, because he's so different from you? Or do you hate him be- cause he is not your son? ELAINE. (Turning quietly.) I have never liked him much. (She seizes his arm. He brushes her aside. She glances hastily from right to left, turns swiftly.) MRS. ELAINE. (In a choked voice.) Don't re- pulse me ! I will try to see things from your point of view. ELAINE. I shall listen with interest. (Sits at desk R.) MRS. ELAINE. (L. of couch.) I couldn't marry the man I loved. ELAINE. Why? MRS. ELAINE. Arthur Trevor wouldn't ask me to face life in a marching regiment on tuppence ha'penny a year. SEARCHLIGHTS 115 ELAINE. Had he asked you, would you have done it? MRS. ELAINE. Yes. Well we parted. And then you wanted me. You were stronger than me. Robert, I thought I was to count for something in your life. You were as cold as ice to me within a month of our marriage. ELAINE. I will tell you why. (Pause.) I heard you murmuring Trevor's name in your sleep. MRS. ELAINE. (Wincing.) Oh-h-h! ELAINE. (Grimly.) You went to your lover in your dreams. MRS. ELAINE. Ah! You might have made me forget him. Day after day I scarcely saw you. I was alone. ELAINE. Those were critical days. I stood to lose everything to win everything. MRS. ELAINE. Except my love. ELAINE. (Grimly.) I won. MRS. ELAINE. Arthur Trevor came back. I im- plored you to take me away. (Sits on settee.) ELAINE. The Goring Bank crisis was on. MRS. ELAINE. And then Harry was born. Arthur Trevor went back to India. I never saw him again, but your suspicions were aroused. But you said nothing. Every time you looked at the child I could read what was in your thoughts. ELAINE. Yes. 116 SEARCHLIGHTS MRS. ELAINE. And yet I had sent Arthur Tre- vor away. ELAINE. (Grimly.") Rather late. MRS. ELAINE. Without any evidence (rises) except the ill-natured gossip of so-called friends, you judged me guilty. In your mind I had the name without the game. ELAINE. You were spending my money. MRS. ELAINE. (Rises.) I admit that. I became extravagant (crosses C.) reckless, but I did my part, too. I entertained your friends, worked for you. I thought you wanted that peerage. When your refused it, I saw to the very depths of your soul. You gave yourself away then absolutely. Till that moment I had never been quite sure what you really thought about Harry. ELAINE. Well ? MRS. ELAINE. Well I revenged myself. ELAINE. (Betraying a little emotion.) What do you mean? (Crosses to her, stands.) MRS. ELAINE. (Looking up.) I don't think I had ever hated you till then. The idea of hurting and humiliating you grew and grew. Then my chance came, and I I took it. I wanted to grind your very soul to powder. I told you that Harry was not your son. Well he is! ELAINE. Look me straight in the eyes and SEARCHLIGHTS 117 tell me that Harry is my son. (Pulls her to him.} MRS. ELAINE. Yes! (For an instant the wife meets the keen, piercing glance of her husband; she goes up to couch and sits. ELAINE crosses slowly to L.C., takes photo from pocket and walks to C. MRS. ELAINE sinks into the sofa. She sits there limp and listless, evidently unnerved by the strain and suspense. After a pause, ELAINE turns. His face has softened. When he speaks the hardness and coldness have gone out of his voice. He comes slowly down, and in his hand he holds the picture of Arthur Trevor, taken by him from PHCEBE.) ELAINE. I have been looking at this. (He holds it in front of her eyes. } MRS. ELAINE. Harry ? You have carried about with you a picture of Harry? ELAINE. It's a good likeness? MRS. ELAINE. Excellent. I don't remember see- ing it before. Where did you get it ? ELAINE. From Phoebe Schmaltz. (Looks down on her.} Look at the back. (Turns photo.} (She does not take it. She reads what is written and gives a half-suppressed gasp 118 SEARCHLIGHTS of dismay. Her attitude is pathetically helpless and hopeless.) ELAINE. (In a whisper.) Is Harry my son? Is he? (Puts photo back in pocket, after a pause.) (She opens her mouth, but no sound escapes from her lips. She goes to the desk and signs the paper, giving it to ELAINE, who takes it from her trembling fingers. ) ELAINE. (C.) Thank you. Please fetch Harry. MRS. ELAINE. (Rises. R.C.) You don't you can't mean to tell him ? And and you ask me ! (Sinks, collapsed, into sofa.) (ELAINE walks to door C.) ELAINE. (Opening door.) Harry! HARRY. (Off.) Yes, sir! (PHCEBE helps HARRY in.) (ELAINE C., HARRY to chair, PHOEBE to head of settee.) PHCEBE. (Nervously.) Shall I stay, Mrs. Elaine? ELAINE. (C.) Please. (Takes her hand.) It's you whom I wish to speak to more particu- larly. Do you love Harry for himself regard- less, let us say, of his position as my son? An- SEARCHLIGHTS 119 swer me, my dear, with entire frankness. Look into your heart. If Harry were not Harry Elaine PHCEBE. If he were the son of a poor man if he had nothing, I should love him, and want to marry him. HARRY. I have less than nothing. I'm in debt, Phoebe. PHOZBE. He's in debt. ELAINE. I have here a paper which concerns you. (ELAINE takes blue paper from his breast- pocket. MRS. ELAINE gasps and rises; does not look round. ELAINE hands HARRY the blue receipted bill.) HARRY. Father! How perfectly splendid of you ! Mother ! Paid ! ELAINE. If you want Harry, you can have him. (ELAINE, with a gesture checking HARRY'S gratitude, goes down to fire.) HARRY. (Rises.) Father, I promise you that I will try to be a better son. ELAINE. I have kept my word. I told your mother that I would pay your debts, if you fell on the field of honour. Because you have borne arms for England I will make suitable 120 SEARCHLIGHTS provision for you, if you marry Phoebe. (Leans on fireplace.) PHCEBE. May I go and tell Dad? BLAINE. Run along. (Exit PHCEBE R.) HARRY. (Going to C. door, turns.) Mother, aren't you pleased? MRS. ELAINE. For you, Harry, yes. (Clutching him.) I'm not going to lose you. HARRY. Why, Mother ! MRS. BLAINE. (Intensely.) This will not take you from me? HARRY. Nothing I could do would take you from me. MRS. BLAINE. Nothing I could do would come between us? HARRY. Rather not! (Kisses her, and exit.) (BLAINE is at fireplace.) (As soon as HARRY has left the room, it must be evident that MRS. BLAINE is nerving herself for a supreme effort. Passion in the woman, long suppressed, is about to break bonds. Her biasing eyes, her clenched hands, her quivering lips and heaving bosom must excite the anticipa- tions of the audience. She takes a step nearer BLAINE, and pauses, drawing her- SEARCHLIGHTS 121 self up to her full height. During the scene that follows, her emotion must be dramatically contrasted with his frigid impassivity. ) MRS. ELAINE. Thank you, Robert. ELAINE. For what? MRS. ELAINE. I thought you were going to show that paper to Harry. ELAINE. Not yet. MRS. ELAINE. He must never see it, never. You are quit of him, Robert. He will drift peace- ably out of your life. It is I, only I, who stand between you and your heart's desire. If I were dead, you could marry again. ELAINE. Possibly. You are not dead. MRS. ELAINE. (Coming nearer, with increasing intensity of tone.) I will make a bargain with you. Give me that paper, which I signed in a moment of weakness, give it to me now, and I pledge you my word that you shall be free, and soon ! (He looks at her keenly, but makes no sign.) MRS. ELAINE. You said that this war would work incalculable changes in all of us. It has worked such a change in me. Do you think that I can sink back to the old life? Harry is going from me. That is inevitable. What is 122 SEARCHLIGHTS left for me? What is the one thing, to-day, dearer to me than life itself his happiness ! I have sinned yes, and I am prepared to pay for my sin to the uttermost farthing. Give me that paper (she holds out her hand steadily} and trust me to find a way out of your life! ELAINE. By the sacrifice of your own? MRS. ELAINE. (Fiercely.) By God! Yes. (They hold each other's glance. The woman is rigid with excitement and determina- tion; the man, for the first time, indicates some relaxation of the tissues. His glance falls beneath hers; his head bows itself upon his chest.) MRS. ELAINE. You do not believe me? ELAINE. (Hoarsely.) I do. MRS. ELAINE. (Derisively.) I read you, Rob- ert. Your cold brain is weighing the means to such an end. Have no fear! For my son's sake, not yours, I promise you immunity from gossiping tongues. (In a thrilling whisper.) I shall find what I seek in France. I shall fall where Harry might have fallen ! ELAINE. No. MRS. ELAINE. You refuse to give me that pa- per? SEARCHLIGHTS 123 ELAINE. You are magnificent. (Slowly.} I have made you suffer too much. (He tears up the paper. She regards him almost suspiciously, incredulous of the change in his voice and manner.) MRS. ELAINE. You you mean ? Say some- thing anything ! ELAINE. (Gently,) Last Autumn, in Phoebe's album, I wrote: "God's most merciful gift may be SILENCE." I stand in need of for- giveness myself. Your love for Harry has re- deemed you. (A slight pause.) MRS. ELAINE. (Passionately.) Robert, am I to live alone with you, eating my heart out, won- dering what you are thinking? ELAINE. (Taking her hand.) I shall be think- ing, Alice, of PEACE! CURTAIN. This book is DUE on the last date stamped below MAY 6 1347 Form L-9-15m-7,'32 PR 6045 Vachell - V13s Searchlights; a play in three acts. ,.".. 5 U E RN ..?. EGI NAL LIBRARY FACILITY A 000 562 354 1 UNIVERSITY of CALIFORNIA ANGELES UBRAKY