Title: Gold : A play in four acts
Author: O'Neill, Eugene
Language: English
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                                 GOLD

                               PLAYS BY

                           EUGENE G. O’NEILL


       THE MOON OF THE CARIBBEES AND SIX OTHER PLAYS OF THE SEA
                          BEYOND THE HORIZON
                               THE STRAW
                                 GOLD



                                 GOLD
                          A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS


                                  BY
                           EUGENE G. O’NEILL


                       [Illustration: colophon]


                          BONI AND LIVERIGHT
                          PUBLISHERS NEW YORK



                                 GOLD

                          COPYRIGHT, 1920, BY
                        BONI & LIVERIGHT, INC.

               _Printed in the United States of America_



                            SCENES OF ACTS


     ACT ONE--A barren coral island on the fringe of the Malay
     archipelago--Noon.

     ACT TWO--Interior of a boat shed on the wharf of the Bartlett place
     on the California coast. An afternoon six months later.

     ACT THREE--Exterior of the Bartlett house--dawn of the following
     morning.

     ACT FOUR--Bartlett’s “cabin”--his lookout post--at the top of the
     house. A night one year later.


                _Time of the play--About the year 1900_



ACT I



CHARACTERS


CAPTAIN ISAIAH BARTLETT, _of the whaling ship, Triton_
SILAS HORNE, _boatswain of the Triton_
BEN CATES                }
JIMMY KANAKA, _an Islander_ } _of the Triton’s crew_
BUTLER, _cook of the Triton_
ABEL, _the ship’s boy_
SARAH ALLEN BARTLETT, _the captain’s wife_
SUE, _their daughter_
NAT, _their son_
DANIEL DREW, _officer of a freight steamer_
DOCTOR BERRY



ACT ONE


     SCENE--_A small, barren coral island on the southern fringe of the
     Malay Archipelago. The coral sand, blazing white under the full
     glare of the sun, lifts in the right foreground to a long hummuck a
     few feet above sea-level. A stunted coco palm rises from the center
     of this elevation, its bunch of scraggly leaves drooping
     motionlessly, casting a small circular patch of shadow directly
     beneath on the ground about the trunk. About a hundred yards in the
     distance the lagoon is seen, its vivid blue contrasting with the
     white coral beach which borders its circular outline. The far
     horizon to seaward is marked by a broad band of purplish haze which
     separates the bright blue of the water from the metallic grey-blue
     of the sky. The island bakes. The intensity of the sun’s rays is
     flung back skyward in a quivering mist of heat-waves which distorts
     the outlines of things, giving the visible world an intangible
     eerie quality, as if it were floating submerged in some colorless
     molten fluid._

     _As the curtain rises_, ABEL _is discovered lying asleep, curled
     up in the patch of shade beneath the coco palm. He is a runty,
     under-sized boy of fifteen, with a shrivelled old face, tanned to
     parchment by the sum. He has on a suit of dirty dungarees, man’s
     size, much too large for him, which hang in loose folds from his
     puny frame. A thatch of brown hair straggles in limp wisps from
     under the peaked canvas cap he wears. He looks terribly exhausted.
     His dreams are evidently fraught with terror, for he twitches
     convulsively and moans with fright._ BUTLER _enters hurriedly,
     panting, from the right, rear. He is a tall man of over middle age,
     dressed in the faded remainder of what was once a brown suit. The
     coat, the buttons of which have been torn off, hangs open,
     revealing his nakedness beneath. A cloth cap covers his bald head,
     with its halo of dirty thin grey hair. His body is emaciated. His
     face, with its round, blue eyes, is weathered and cracked by the
     sun’s rays. The wreck of a pair of heavy shoes flop about his bare
     feet. He looks back cautiously, as if he were afraid of being
     followed; then satisfied that he is not, he approaches the sleeping
     boy, and bending down, puts his hand on_ ABEL’S _forehead_. ABEL
     _groans and opens his eyes. He stares about furtively, as if
     seeking someone whose presence he dreads to find._

ABEL--[_In a husky voice._] Where’s Capt’n and the rest, Butts?

BUTLER--[_In a hoarse, cracked whisper._]--On the beach--down there.
[_He makes an exhausted gesture, right, and then sinks with a groan at
the foot of the tree, leaning back against the trunk, trying vainly to
hunch his long legs up so as to be completely in the shade._]

ABEL--What’re they doin’? [_With avid eyes._] They ain’t found no water
yet?

BUTLER--[_Shaking his head, his eyes closing wearily._] No. How would
they--when there ain’t any--not on this devil’s island--dry as a bone,
my sonny--sand and sun--that’s all.

ABEL--[_Remonstratingly--his lips trembling a little._] Aw--maybe--you
don’t know no different.

BUTLER--No. Might as well look the devil in the face, sonny. There’s no
water here. Not a damn drop. No--nor a scrap to eat, neither. Only the
damn sun. [_Weakly--touching the skin of his face with trembling
fingers._] God! My face is like the raw inside of a wet hide! If it’d
only rain! [_After a pause--kindly._] But how are you, eh? Had a good
sleep?

ABEL--I was dreamin’ awful. [_With a sudden, shrill agony--his lips
twitching._] I need a drink of water--something awful! My mouth’s
burnin’ up. [_With tremulous pleading._] Say, ain’t you got ’nother
drink left?--honest, ain’t you?


BUTLER--[_Looking around him cautiously._] Not so loud! [_Fixing his
eyes sternly on the boy._] This is a dead secret, mind! You’ll swear you
won’t blab--not to him?

ABEL--Sure, Butts, sure! Gawd strike me dead!

BUTLER--[_Takes a pint bottle from the hip-pocket of his pants. It is
about half full of water._] He don’t know I’ve got this, remember!
He--and the rest--they’d kill me like a dog--and you too,
sonny--remember that!

ABEL--Sure! I ain’t goin’ to tell ’em, Butts. [_Stretching out his hands
frenziedly._] Aw, give it to me, Butts! Give me a drink, for Christ’s
sake!

BUTLER--No, you don’t! I’ll hold it for you. Only a few drops. You’d
have it all down your throat. And we’ve got to be careful. It’s got to
last ’til the ship comes past that’ll pick us up. That’s the only hope.
[_Holding the bottle at arm’s length from the boy._] Hands down, now--or
you don’t get a drop! [_The boy lets his hands drop to his sides._
BUTLER _puts the bottle carefully to his lips, and allows the boy two
gulps--then snatches it away_.] That’s all now. More later. [_He takes
one gulp himself, and making a tremendous effort of will, jerks the
bottle from his lips, and corking it quickly, thrusts it back in his
pocket and heaves a shuddering sigh._]

ABEL--Aw, more! Just another swaller----

BUTLER--[_Determinedly._] No!

ABEL--[_Crying weakly._] Yuh dirty mut!

BUTLER--[_Quietly._] There! Don’t get riled. It only makes you
hotter--and thirstier. [_The boy sinks back exhausted and closes his
eyes._ BUTLER _begins to talk in a more assured voice, as if the sip of
water had renewed his courage_.] That’ll save us yet, that bit of water.
A lucky notion of mine to think of it--at the last moment. They were
just lowering the boots. I could hear you calling to me to hurry and
come. They didn’t care if I went down with that stinking whaling ship or
not, damn them! What did the dirty cook matter to them? But I thought of
filling this bottle. It’d been lying there in the galley for two years
almost. I’d had it on my hip, full of whiskey, that night in Oakland
when I was shanghied. So I filled it out of a bucket before I ran to the
boat. Lucky I did, son--for you and me--not for them--damn ’em!

ABEL--[_Struggling to a sitting posture, evidently strengthened by his
drink._] Gee if the Old Man was wise you got it----

BUTLER--He won’t know--nor Horne, nor Cates, nor Jimmy Kanaka, neither.
[_As if in self-justification._] Why should I tell ’em, eh? Did I ever
get anything better than a kick or a curse from one of them?
[_Vindictively._] Would they give it to me if they had it? They’d see me
in hell first! And besides, it’s too late for them. They’re mad as
hatters right now, the four of them. They ain’t had a drop since three
nights back, when the water in the cask gave out and we rowed up against
this island in the dark. Think of it, and them out walking and roasting
in the sun all day, looking for water where there ain’t any. Wouldn’t
you be crazy? [_Suddenly he laughs queerly._] Didn’t you hear them
shouting and yelling like lunatics just before I came?

ABEL--I thought I heard something--on’y maybe I was dreamin’.

BUTLER--It’s them that are doing the dreaming. I was with them. I had to
go. [_With rising anger._] He kicked me awake--and every time I tried to
get away he beat me back. He’s strong yet--[_With threatening
vindictiveness._]--but he can’t last long, damn him! [_Controlling
himself, goes on with his story excitedly._] Well, we went looking for
water--on this sand pile. Then Jimmy Kanaka saw a boat sunk half under
down inside the reef--a Malay canoe, only bigger. They got down in her
the best way they could, up to their waists in water. They thought there
might be something to drink on her. I was trying to sneak off, scared to
go in on account of sharks. All of a sudden they gave an awful yell. I
thought they’d found something to drink and ran back. They was all
standing about a box they’d forced open, yelling and cursing and out of
their heads completely. When I looked I seen the box was full of all
sorts of metal junk--bracelets and bands and necklaces that I guess the
Malays wear. Nothing but brass and copper, and bum imitations of
diamonds and things--not worth a dam; and there they were, shouting with
joy and slapping each other on the back. And that hellion of a skipper
shouts at me: “Get out of this! No share here for a stinking cook!” he
yells. I didn’t say nothing but just picked up some of the stuff to make
sure. Then I told him straight. “This ain’t gold. It’s brass and
copper--not worth a damn.” God, he got wild! I had to run, or he’d
knifed me--then and there. That was when I woke you up.

ABEL--And ain’t it worth nothin’, honest? How’d you know it ain’t?

BUTLER--D’you think I ain’t learned to know gold in my time? And
polished enough copper and brass to know them, too? Just as if it was
gold it’d do ’em any good! You can’t drink gold, can you? [_With sudden
violence._] It serves ’em right, all that’s happened and going to
happen. Kicks and smacks in the face if I even winked an eye--two years
of it! And me shanghied when I was drunk--taken away from a good job and
forced to cook the swill on a rotten whaler. Oh, I’ll pay him back for
it! His damn ship is wrecked and lost to him--that’s the first of it.
I’ll see him rot and die--and the three with him! But you and me’ll be
saved! D’you know why I’ve let you go halves on this water, instead of
hogging it all myself? It’s because you were the only one on board that
didn’t treat me like a dog--and they kicked and beat you, too. We were
in the same boat. And now we’ll get even! Them and their dirty box of
junk! [_He sinks back, exhausted by this outburst_.]

ABEL--[_Suddenly, in a piteous voice._] Gee, I wisht I was back home
again!

BUTLER--You’ll get back. We both will. [_He closes his eyes. After a
pause--weakly._] When I close my eyes, everything gets to rocking under
me, like I was in that open boat again. I won’t forget these four days
in a hurry. Up and down---- Nothing but sun and water. [_They are both
silent, leaning with closed eyes against the bole of the tree, panting
exhaustedly. A murmur of men’s voices comes from the right, rear, and
gradually get nearer._]

ABEL--[_Opening his eyes with a start._] Butts! I hear ’em comin’!

BUTLER--[_Listening, wide-eyed, for a moment._] Yes, it’s them. [_He
gets to his feet weakly._] Come, let’s get out of this. [ABEL _staggers
to his feet. They both move to the left._ BUTLER _shades his eyes with
his hands and looks toward the beach_.] Look! They’re dragging along
that box of junk with ’em, the damn fools! [_Warningly._] They’re crazy
as hell. Don’t give ’em no chance to pick on you, d’you hear? They’d
stop at nothing when they’re this way. [_There is a scuffling of heavy
footsteps in the sand, and_ CAPTAIN BARTLETT _appears, followed by_
HORNE, _who in turn is followed by_ CATES _and_ JIMMY KANAKA. BARTLETT
_is a tall, huge-framed figure of a man, dressed in a blue
double-breasted coat, pants of the same material, and rubber sea-boots
turned down from the knees. In spite of the ravages of hunger and thirst
there is still a suggestion of immense strength in his heavy-muscled
body. His head is massive, thickly covered with tangled, iron-grey hair.
His face is large, bony, and leather-tanned, with a long aquiline nose
and a gash of a mouth shadowed by a bristling grey mustache. His broad
jaw sticks out at an angle of implacable stubbornness. Bushy grey brows
overhang the obsessed glare of his sombre dark eyes._ SILAS HORNE _is a
thin, parrot-nosed, angular old man, his lean face marked by a life-time
of crass lusts and mean cruelty. He is dressed in grey cotton trousers,
and a singlet torn open across his hairy chest. The exposed skin of his
arms and shoulders and chest has been blistered and seared by the sun. A
cap is on his head._ CATES _is squat and broad-chested, with thick,
stumpy legs and arms. His square, stupid face, with its greedy pig’s
eyes, is terribly pock-marked. He is gross and bestial, an unintelligent
brute. He is dressed in dungaree pants and a dirty white sailor’s
blouse, and wears a brown cap._ JIMMY KANAKA _is a tall, sinewy, bronzed
young Islander. He wears only a loin cloth and a leather belt with a
sheath-knife. The last two are staggering beneath the weight of a heavy
inlaid chest. The eyes of the three white men are wild. They pant
exhaustedly, their legs trembling with weakness beneath them. Their lips
are puffed and cracked, their voices muffled by their swollen tongues.
But there is a mad air of happiness, of excitement, about their scorched
faces._]

BARTLETT--[_In a crooning, monotonous voice._] It’s heavy, I know,
heavy--that chest. Up, bullies! Up with her! [_He flings himself in the
shade, resting his back against the tree, and points to the sand at his
feet._] Put ’er there, bullies--there where I kin see!

HORNE--[_Echoing his words mechanically._] Put’er there!

CATES--[_In thick, stupid tones._] Aye-aye, sir! Down she goes, Jimmy!
[_They set the chest down._]

BARTLETT--Sit down, lads, sit down. Ye’ve earned your spell of rest.
[_The three men throw themselves on the sand in attitudes of spent
weariness. Bartlett’s eyes are fixed gloatingly on the chest. There is a
silence suddenly broken by Cates, who leaps to a kneeling position with
a choked cry._]

CATES--[_His eyes staring at the Captain with fierce insistence._] I
want a drink--water! [_The others are startled into a rigid, dazzed
attention._ HORNE’S _lips move painfully in a soundless repetition of
the word. There is a pause. Then Bartlett strikes the side of his head
with his fist, as if to drive this obsession from his brain._ BUTLER
_and_ ABEL _stand looking at them with frightened eyes_.]

BARTLETT--[_Having regained control over himself, in a determined voice,
deep-toned and menacing._] If ye speak that word ever again, Ben
Cates--if ye say it once again--ye’ll be food for the sharks! Ye hear?

CATES--[_Terrified._] Yes, sir. [_He collapses limply on the sand
again._ HORNE _and the_ KANAKA _relax hopelessly_.]

BARTLETT--[_With heavy scorn._] Are ye a child to take on like a sick
woman--cryin’ for what ye know we’ve not got? Can’t ye stand up under a
little thirst like a man? [_Resolutely._] There’ll be water enough--if
ye’ll wait and keep a stiff upper lip on ye. We’ll all be picked up
today. I’ll stake my word on it. This state o’ things can’t last. [_His
eyes fall on the chest._] Ye ought to be singin’ ’stead o’ cryin’--after
the find we’ve made. What’s the lack of water amount to--when ye’ve gold
before you? [_With mad exultation._] Gold! Enough of it in your share
alone to buy ye rum, and wine, and women, too, for the rest o’ your
life!

CATES--[_Straightening up to a sitting posture--his small eyes staring
at the box fascinatedly--in a stupid mumble._] Aye--aye--rum and wine!

BARTLETT--[_Half closing his eyes as if the better to enjoy his
vision._] Yes, rum and wine and women for you and Horne and Jimmy. No
more hard work on the dirty sea for ye, bullies, but a full pay-day in
your pockets to spend each day o’ the year. [_The three strain their
ears, listening eagerly. Even_ BUTLER _and_ ABEL _advance a step or two
toward him, as if they, too, were half hypnotized_.] And Cates grumbling
because he’s thirsty! I’d be the proper one to complain--if complainin’
there was to do! Ain’t I lost my ship and the work o’ two years with
her? And what have ye lost, all three, but a few rags o’ clothes? [_With
savage emphasis._] I tell ye, I be glad the Triton went down! [_He taps
the box with his fingers._] They’s more in this than ever was earned by
all the whalin’ ships afloat. They’s gold--heavy and solid--and diamonds
and emeralds and rubies!--red and green, they be.

CATES--[_Licking his lips._] Aye, I seen ’em there--and emeralds be
green, I know, and sell for a ton of gold!

BARTLETT--[_As if he hadn’t heard and was dreaming out loud to
himself._] Rum and wine for you three, and rest for me. Aye, I’ll rest
to home ’til the day I die. Aye, woman, I be comin’ home now for good.
Aye, Nat and Sue, your father be comin’ home for the rest o’ his life!
No more stinkin’ blubber on the deck. I’ll give up whalin’ like ye’ve
always been askin’ me, Sarah. Aye, I’ll go to meetin’ with ye on a
Sunday like ye’ve always prayed I would. We’ll make the damn neighbors
open their eyes, curse ’em! Carriages and silks for ye--they’ll be
nothin’ too good--and for Sue and the boy. I’ve been dreamin’ o’ this in
my sleep for years. I never give a damn ’bout the oil--that’s just
trade--but I always hoped on some voyage I’d pick up ambergris--a whole
lot of it--and that’s worth gold!

HORNE--[_His head bobbing up from his chest--drowsily._] Aye, ambergris!
It’s costly truck.

BUTLER--[_In a whisper to the boy--cautiously._] There! Wasn’t I right?
Mad as hatters, all of ’em! Come on away!

ABEL--[_Staring at the Captain fascinatedly._] No. I wanter see ’em open
it.

BUTLER--Look out! You’ll be going batty yourself, first thing you know.
[_But he also stays._]

BARTLETT--[_His voice more and more that of a somnambulist._] It’s time
I settled down to home with ye, Sarah, after twenty years o’ whalin’.
They’s plenty o’ big trees on my place, bullies, and shade and green
grass, and a cool wind off the sea. [_He shakes off the growing
drowsiness and glares about him in a rage._] Hell’s fire! What crazy
truck be I thinkin’ of? [_But he and the others sink back immediately
into stupor. After a pause he begins to relate a tale in a droning
voice._] Years ago, when I was whalin’ out o’ New Bedford--just after I
got my first ship, it was--a man come to me--Spanish-looking, he
was--and wanted to charter my ship and me go shares. He showed me a map
o’ some island off the coast of South America somewhere. They was a
cross marked on it where treasure had been buried by the old pirates.
That was what he said. But I was a fool. I didn’t believe him. I didn’t
see’s I could take a chance. He got old Scott’s schooner--finally. She
sailed and never was heard o’ since. But I’ve never forgot him and his
map. And often I’ve thought if I’d ’a’ went that vige---- [_He
straightens up and shouts with aggressive violence._] But here she be!
Run right into it--without no map nor nothin’. Gold and diamonds and
all--all them things he said was there--there they be in front o’ our
eyes! [_To the now alert_ JIMMY.] Open ’er up, Jimmy!

JIMMY--[_Getting up--in his soft voice._] Aye, Captain. [_He reaches
down to lift the lid._]

BARTLETT--[_A sudden change of feeling comes over him, and he knocks_
JIMMY’S _arm aside savagely_.] Hands off, ye dog! I’m takin’ care o’
this chest, and no man’s hand’s goin’ to touch it but mine!

JIMMY--[_Stepping back docilely--in the same unmoved, soft tone._] Aye,
Captain. [_He squats down to the left of the chest._]

BARTLETT--[_Seeming suddenly to notice the cook for the first time._] So
there you be, eh? [_His voice growing thick with rage._] I ain’t forgot
what ye said down by the shore there! Lucky for ye I didn’t catch ye
then! “Brass and copper--junk,” ye said--“not gold! Not worth a damn,”
ye said! Ye blasted son o’ a liar! No share for ye! I’ll not forget.
And keep your distance o’ me if ye want your hide! [_Looking at_ ABEL.]
Ye’ve been tellin’ that boy your lies too, I kin tell by the look o’
him. [_Sternly._] Come here, boy!

ABEL--[_Advances with faltering steps._] Y-yes, s-sir?

BARTLETT--Open up that chest! Open it up, ye brat! [_With a desperate
movement of fear_ ABEL _reaches down and flings open the lid of the
chest._ _As he does so_, BARTLETT’S _huge hand fastens on the collar of
his coat, and holds him with face bent over the box_. HORNE, CATES,
_and_ JIMMY KANAKA _pull themselves close, their necks craning for a
look inside_. BUTLER _takes a few steps toward them_.]

BUTLER--[_In a low uncertain tone._] Maybe I was wrong, Captain
Bartlett, sir.

BARTLETT--[_Shaking the terror-stricken boy._] What d’ye see there, ye
little swab? What d’ye see there?

ABEL--Aw--leggo--I’m chokin’!

BARTLETT--[_Grimly._] Ye’ll choke in earnest if ye don’t answer me. What
d’ye see? Is it gold? Answer me--is it gold?

ABEL--[_Stutteringly._] Yes--sure--gold--I see it!

BARTLETT--[_Thrusts him away. The boy staggers and falls to the sand._
BARTLETT _turns to_ BUTLER _triumphantly_.] Ye see, ye liar? Gold!
Gold! Even a child can tell it at a look. [_With a sombre menace in his
tone._] But ye--don’t believe--do ye?

BUTLER--[_Frightenedly._] Maybe I was wrong, sir. I--didn’t--look very
careful.

BARTLETT--Come here! [_He stands up, his back against the tree._] Come
here!

BUTLER--Yes, sir. [_But he looks about him shiftily, as if to run
away._]

BARTLETT--Jimmy! [_The_ KANAKA _leaps to his feet_.] Knife him, Jimmy,
if he tries to run.

JIMMY--[_His hand goes to his knife, his dark eyes lighting up with
savagery--in his soft voice._] Aye, Captain!

BARTLETT--[_To the trembling cook._] Come here!

BUTLER--[_Goes to him with the courage of desperation._] Yes, sir.

BARTLETT--[_Pointing to the contents of the chest._] Is it gold--or not?

BUTLER--If I can feel of one----

BARTLETT--Pick one up.

BUTLER--[_Picks up a heavy anklet encrusted with colored glass, looks at
it for a minute--then feigning great assurance._] I was wrong, Captain.
It’s gold all right enough--worth all kinds of money, I bet.

BARTLETT--[_With mad triumph._] Ha! Ye’ve come to your senses, have ye?
Too late, ye swab! No share for ye! And here’s to teach ye for lyin’ to
me before! [_His fist jerks out from his side, and_ BUTLER _is knocked
sprawling on the sand, where he lies groaning for a moment, the anklet
still clutched in his hand. The boy gives a gasp of fright and scampers
off, left._]

BARTLETT--That’ll learn ye! [_He sits down beside the chest. The others
crouch close. Bartlett shoves in both of his hands--in a tone of mad
gloating._] Gold! Better’n whaling, ain’t she, boys? Better’n ambergris,
even if I ever had luck to find any! [BUTLER _staggers to his feet. He
examines the anklet with contemptuous scorn and even bites it to make
sure. Then he edges stealthily toward the left. A sudden transformation
comes over his face and he glowers at the Captain with hatred, his
features distorted with fury._]

JIMMY KANAKA--[_Pointing to_ BUTLER.] He got him, Captain!

BARTLETT--[_Glancing at the cook with contemptuous scorn._] Sneakin’
away with that piece o’ the gold, be ye? Ye thievin’ swine! Ye know
right enough it’s gold now, don’t ye? Well, ye kin keep it--for your
share for speakin’ the truth that once.

HORNE--[_His cupidity protesting._] Don’t give it to him, sir! It’s so
much the less for us that worked for it when he did nothin’!

BUTLER--[_Overcome by hysterical rage--stammering._] Who asked you for
it--eh? Who--wants the dam thing? Not me! No! You damned lunatics! You
oughter all be in the asylum? [_Holding the anklet out contemptuously._]
Gold? Ha-ha! This junk? I just bit it to make sure. Gold? Brass, that’s
what--and pieces of glass! Junk! Not worth a dam. Here! Take it! You can
have it! [_He flings it on the sand before them._ BARTLETT _snatches it
up protectingly_.]

BARTLETT--[_In a frenzy._] Jimmy! [_But_ BUTLER _runs off left with a
terrified cry_. JIMMY _springs to his feet and stands with his hand on
his knife, waiting for a further order_.]

JIMMY--[_Eagerly._] I go catch--go stick him, Captain?

BARTLETT--[_Pausing--with a frown._] No. They’s time enough for that--if
need be. Sit down. [JIMMY _sits down again with a childish air of
sulking_. BARTLETT _stares at the treasure, continuing to frown, as if
Butler’s action had made him uneasy, bewildered and confused him. He
mutters half to himself._] Queer! Queer! He threw it back as if ’twas a
chunk of mud! He knew--and yet he said he didn’t want it. Junk, he
called it--and he knows it’s gold! He said ’twas gold himself a second
back. He’s queer. Why would he say junk when he knows it’s gold? D’ye
think--he don’t believe?

HORNE--He was mad because you knocked him down.

BARTLETT--[_Shaking his head grimly._] It ain’t the first time I’ve
knocked him down; but he never spoke up to me--like that--before. No,
it’s somethin’ else is wrong with him--somethin’.

HORNE--No share for him, you told him sir. That’s what wrong with him.

BARTLETT--[_Again shaking his head._] No. His eyes--It’s somethin’ he’s
got in his head--somethin’ he’s hidin’! His share--maybe he thinks he’ll
get his share anyway, in spite o’ us! Maybe he thinks his share wouldn’t
be all he wants! Maybe he thinks we’ll die o’ hunger and thirst before
we get picked up--and that he’ll live--and then--he’ll come in for the
whole chestful! [_Suddenly springing to his feet in a rage, convinced
that he has found the truth._] Hell’s fire! That’s it, bullies! That’s
his sneakin’ plan! To watch us die--and steal it from us!

CATES--[_Rising to his knees and shaking his hand threateningly above
his head._] Tell Jimmy to knife him, sir! Tell Jimmy--I ain’t got a
knife, or I’d do it myself. [_He totters weakly to his feet._]

JIMMY--[_Eagerly._] You speak, I stick him, Captain. I stick boy, too.

CATES--[_Weakening._] I’m weak, but I kin do for him yet. I’m weak----
[_His knees sag under him. He pleads piteously._] If I’d only a drink to
put some strength in me! If I’d only a sup o’ water, I’d do for him!
[_Turning, as if to stagger down toward the beach._] There must be
water. Let’s look again. I’ll go look---- [_But the effort he makes is
too much for his strength and he falls to the sand, panting with open
mouth._]

BARTLETT--[_Summoning his strength--sternly._] Put a clapper on that jaw
of yours, Cates, or I’ll do it for ye!

CATES--[_Blubbering._] If we don’t find water--he’ll watch us die.

JIMMY--[_Insinuatingly._] Better me knife cook fella--kill boy, too!

BARTLETT--Will killin’ ’em give us drink, ye fools? [_After a pause, he
shakes his head as if to drive off some thought, and mutters._] No more
o’ that! [_Suddenly, in a tone of sharp command._] No more o’ that, I
say! We’re keepin’ no right watch for ships. Go aloft on that tree,
Jimmy--and damn quick! Take a look and see if ye can sight a sail.
[KANAKA _shins quickly up the bole of the coco palm to the top and looks
out on all sides of him. The others rise painfully to their feet and
gaze up at him with awakened hope._]

JIMMY--[_Suddenly, in a glad voice._] I see um--see sail, Captain.

CATES--[_Waving his arms frenziedly._] Sail--ho!

JIMMY--Look plenty like trade schooner, Captain. She no change course
she fetch plenty close by here. She make full sail, she got plenty fella
wind out there, she come quick.

HORNE--[_Clapping_ CATES _on the back_.] Headin’ straight for us, Cates,
d’you hear?

BARTLETT--How far d’ye reckon she be?

JIMMY--She’s five, six fella mile, Captain.

BARTLETT--Come down. [_The Islander slides down._ BARTLETT _exclaims
exultantly_.] Didn’t I tell ye? In the nick o’ time. When she makes in
close we’ll go down to the reef and yell and wave at her. They’ll see!
The luck’s with us today! [_His eyes fall on the treasure and he
starts._] But now--what’s to do with this chest--the gold?

HORNE--[_Quickly._] You ain’t going to tell them on the schooner about
it?

CATES--They’d claim to share with us.

HORNE--More like they’d steal it and knife us in the bargain. I know the
kind on them schooners.

BARTLETT--[_Scornfully._] D’ye think I’m cracked? No, we’ll bury it
here.

CATES--[_Regretfully._] Leave it behind for anyone to find?

BARTLETT--We’ll bury it deep, where hell itself won’t find it--and we’ll
make a map o’ this island. [_He takes a sheet of paper and a stub of
pencil from his pocket--pointing to the foot of the tree._] Dig a hole
here--you, Horne and Jimmy--and dig it deep. [_The two head down and
commence to hollow out the sand with their hands._ BARTLETT _draws on
the paper_.] There’s the lagoon--and the reef--and here’s this tree--the
only one on the island--’twould be hard to miss. [_To_ CATES, _who is
peering over his shoulder_.] And here where the tree is, d’ye see,
Cates, I’ll make a cross where the gold is hid.

HORNE--[_Over his shoulder, without ceasing his work._] How d’ye know
the lay o’ this island--to find it again?

BARTLETT--By the last reckonin’ o’ the Triton’s. It’s writ on a page I
tore from the log-book. And from there we headed due north in the boat,
unless the compass lied--four days--a hundred and fifty miles, I reckon.
[_Exultantly._] Oh, all hell’d not stop me from findin’ this place again
when I know the gold’s here. Let us once get home and I’ll fit out a
small schooner the four of us can sail, and we’ll come back here to dig
it up. It won’t be long, I swear to ye!

HORNE--[_Straightening up._] This deep enough, sir?

BARTLETT--It looks to be.

JIMMY--[_Who has straightened up and is looking off left--suddenly
points excitedly._] He look, Captain! Cook fella, he look here! Boy he
look, too! They look plenty too much, Captain! [_All four stand staring
off at_ BUTLER _and the boy, whose presence on the island they have
forgotten in their mad excitement_.]

CATES--[_In stupid dismay._] They’ll know where it’s hid, sir!

HORNE--They’ll tell ’em on the schooner!

CATES--[_Wildly._] We’ve got to do for ’em, Captain! Gimme your knife,
Jimmy--your knife---- [_He stumbles toward the Islander, who pushes him
aside brusquely, looking questioningly toward the Captain._]

BARTLETT--[_Who has been standing motionless, as if stunned by this
forgotten complication--slowly._] There they be watchin’ us, the
sneakin’ dogs! Sit down, an’ they won’t see. [_They all squat in the
sand._] I was forgettin’ they was here. [_Striking his knee with
clenched fist._] We’ve got to do somethin’ damn quick! That schooner’ll
be up soon where they kin sight her--and they’ll wave and yell then--and
she’ll see ’em!

HORNE--And good-bye to the gold for us!

JIMMY--[_Eagerly._] You say fella word, Captain, me kill um quick. They
no make plenty cry for schooner! They keep damn still plenty too much!

BARTLETT--[_Looking at the Islander with mad cunning but replying only
to_ HORNE.] Aye, it’s good-bye to the gold, Horne. That scum of a
cook--he’s made a mock o’ us--sayin’ it wasn’t gold when he knew it
was--he’ll tell ’em--he’ll get joy o’ tellin’ ’em!

HORNE--And that scrub of a boy--he’s no better. He’ll be in with him
neck and crop.

CATES--[_Hoarsely._] Knife ’em--and be done with it--I say!

BARTLETT--Or, if they don’t tell the schooner’s skipper it’ll only be
because they’re plannin’ to come back themselves--before we kin--and dig
it up. That cook--there’s somethin’ queer in his mind--somethin’ he was
hidin’--pretendin’ not to believe. What d’ye think, Horne?

HORNE--I think--time’s gettin’ short--and talkin’ won’t do no good.
[_Insinuatingly._] They’d do for us soon enough if _they_ was able.

BARTLETT--Aye, murder was plain in his eyes when he looked at me.

HORNE--[_Lowering his voice to a whisper._] Tell Jimmy--Captain
Bartlett--is what I say!

BARTLETT--It’s agin the law, Silas Horne!

HORNE--The law don’t reach to this island.

BARTLETT--[_Monotonously._] It’s against the law a captain’s sworn to
keep wherever he sails. They ain’t refused duty--nor mutinied.

HORNE--Who’ll know they ain’t? They’re trying to steal what’s
yours--that’s worse’n mutiny. [_As a final persuasion._] And Jimmy’s a
nigger--and under no laws. And he’s stronger’n you are. You couldn’t
stop ’im.

BARTLETT--Aye--I couldn’t prevent----

JIMMY--[_Eagerly._] I fix um, Captain, they no tell! [BARTLETT _doesn’t
answer, but stares at the treasure_. HORNE _makes violent motions to_
JIMMY _to go. The Islander stares at his master’s face. Then, seeming to
read the direct command there, he grunts with satisfaction, and pulling
his knife from it’s sheath, he goes stealthily off left._ CATES _raises
himself on his haunches to watch the Islander’s movements_. HORNE _and_
BARTLETT _sit still in a strained immobility, their eyes on the chest_.]

CATES--[_In an excited whisper._] I see ’em! They’re sittin’ with their
backs this way! [_A slight pause._] There’s Jimmy. He’s crawlin’ on his
hands behind ’em. They don’t notice--he’s right behind--almost atop o’
them. [_A pause._ CATES _gives a fiendish grunt_.] Ugh! [BUTLER’S
_muffled cry comes from the left_.] Right in the middle of the back! The
cook’s done! The boy’s runnin’! [_There is a succession of quick screams
from the boy, the padding of feet running toward them, the fall of a
body, and the boy’s dying groan._]

HORNE--[_With satisfaction._] It’s done, sir!

BARTLETT--[_Slowly._] I spoke no word, remember that, Silas Horne!

HORNE--[_Cunningly._] Nor me neither, sir. Jimmy took it on himself. If
blame there is--and who’d blame him for it?--it’s on him.

BARTLETT--[_Gloomily._] I spoke no word! [JIMMY _returns noiselessly
from the left_.]

JIMMY--[_Grinning with savage pride._] I fix um fella plenty, Captain.
They no tell. They no open mouth plenty too much!

CATES--[_Maudlinly._] You’re a man, Jimmy--a man with guts to him--even
if you’re a---- [_He babbles incoherently._]

JIMMY--[_As the Captain does not look at him._] I go climb fella tree,
Captain? I make look for schooner?

BARTLETT--[_Rousing himself with an effort._] Yes--go up. [_The Islander
climbs the tree._]

HORNE--[_Getting to his feet--eagerly._] Where away, Jimmy?

JIMMY--She come, Captain, she come plenty quick.

HORNE--[_Looking in the direction_ JIMMY _indicates_.] I kin see her
tops’ls from here, sir. Look!

BARTLETT--[_Getting to his feet--stares out to sea._] Aye! There she
be--and makin’ towards us fast. [_In a flash his sombre preoccupation is
gone, and he is commander once more. He puts the anklet in his hand into
his coat pocket--harshly._] Come down out o’ that? They’s work to do.
[JIMMY _clambers down_.] Did ye leave--them--lyin’ in plain sight on the
open sand?

JIMMY--Yes. I no touch um, Captain.

BARTLETT--Then ye’ll touch ’em now. Go, bury ’em, cover ’em up with
sand. And mind ye make a good job o’ it that none’ll see. Jump now!

JIMMY--[_Obediently._] I go, Captain. [_He hurries off left._]

BARTLETT--Down to the reef with ye, Horne! [_Giving the prostrate_ CATES
_a kick_.] Up out o’ that, Cates! Go with Horne, and when ye see the
schooner hull up, wave to ’em, and yell like mad, d’ye hear?

HORNE--Aye, aye, sir!

BARTLETT--I’ll stay here and bury the gold. It’s best to be quick about
it! They may turn a spyglass on us when they raise the island from deck!
Off with ye! [_He gives_ CATES _another kick_.]

CATES--[_Groaning._] I’m sick! [_Incoherently._] Can’t--report for
duty--this watch. [_With a shout._] Water!

BARTLETT--[_Contemptuously._] Ye dog! Give him a hand, Horne.

HORNE--[_Putting a hand under his shoulder._] Up, man! We’re to signal
the schooner. There’ll be water on board o’ her--barrels of it!

CATES--[_Aroused, scrambles to his feet, violently shaking off Horne’s
hand._] Water aboard o’ her! [_His staring eyes catch the schooner’s
sails on the horizon. He breaks into a staggering run and disappears
down toward the beach, right rear, waving his arms wildly and
shouting._] Ahoy! Ahoy! Water! [HORNE _walks out quickly after him_.]
[_Left alone_, BARTLETT, _after a quick glance around, sinks on his
knees beside the chest and shoves both hands into it. From the chest
comes a metallic clink as he fingers the pieces in his hands
gloatingly._] Ye’re safe now! There’s none to tell left livin’! He’s
dead--damn him!--that lied about ye. And ye’ll rest safe here till I
come back for ye! [_In a dreaming tone, his eyes fixed before him in an
ecstatic vision._] No more whalin’ on the dirty seas! Rest to home!
Gold! I’ve been dreamin’ o’ it all my life! Aye--we’ll rest now, Sarah!
Your father be a rich man, Nat and Sue! [_Shaking himself--savagely._]
Ye fool! What drivel be ye talkin’? Loosin’ your senses, be ye? Time ye
was picked up! Lucky! [_He shoves down the lid and places the chest in
the hole. He pushes the sand in on top of it, whispering hoarsely._] Lay
safe, d’ye hear. For I’ll be back for ye! Aye--in spite of hell I’ll dig
ye up again! [_The voices of_ HORNE _and_ JIMMY _can be heard from the
distance shouting as_


[_The Curtain Falls_]



ACT TWO


     SCENE--_Interior of an old boat-shed on the wharf of the Bartlett
     place on the California coast. In the rear, a double doorway
     looking out over the end of the wharf to the bay with the open sea
     beyond. On the left, two windows, and another door, opening on the
     dock. Near this door, a cot with blankets and a pillow without a
     slip. In the center, front, a table with a bottle and glasses on
     it, and three cane-bottomed chairs. On the right, a fishing dory.
     Here and there about the shed all sorts of odds and ends pertaining
     to a ship--old anchors, ropes, tackle, paint-pots, old spars, etc._

     _It is late afternoon of a day six months later. Sunlight filters
     feebly through the stained, cobwebby window panes._

     _As the curtain rises_, BARTLETT _and_ SILAS HORNE _are
     discovered_. HORNE _is in working clothes of paint-stained
     dungaree. If his sufferings on the island have left any marks on
     his dry wizened face, they are undiscoverable. In_ BARTLETT,
     _however, the evidence is marked. His hair has turned white. There
     are deep hollows under his cheek-bones. His jaw and tight-lipped
     mouth, express defiant determination, as if he were fighting back
     some weakness inside himself, a weakness found in his eyes, which
     have something in them of fear, of a wishing to avoid other eyes.
     He is dressed much the same as when on the island. He sits by the
     table, center, his abstracted gaze bent on the floor before him._

HORNE--[_Who is evidently waiting for the Captain to my something--after
a pause, glancing at him uneasily._] I’d best be gettin’ back aboard the
schooner, sir. [_Receiving no answer he starts for the door on the
left._]

BARTLETT--[_Rousing himself with an effort._] Wait. [_After a pause._]
The full tide’s at dawn tomorrow, ye said?

HORNE--Yes, sir.

BARTLETT--They know we’ll be sailin’ then, don’t they--Cates and Jimmy?

HORNE--Yes, sir. They’re all ready. Oh, Cates and Jimmy’ll be glad o’
the word--and me, too, sir. [_With a greedy grin._] It’s all we’ve been
talkin’ of since ye brought us down here--diggin’ up the gold!

BARTLETT--[_Passionately._] Aye, the gold! We’ll have it before long,
now, I reckon. That schooner--the way we’ve fitted her up--she’d take a
man safe to the Pole and back! We’ll drop anchor here with the chest on
board in six months, unless---- [_Hesitates._]

HORNE--[_Uneasily._] What, sir?

BARTLETT--[_Brusquely._] The weather, ye fool! Can ye take count before
o’ storms an’ calms?

HORNE--We’ll trust to luck for that. [_Glancing at the Captain
curiously._] And speakin’ o’ luck, sir--the schooner ain’t been
christened yet.

BARTLETT--[_Betraying a sudden, fierce determination._] She will be!

HORNE--There’d be no luck for a ship sailin’ out without a name.

BARTLETT--She’ll have a name, I tell ye! A name that’ll take all curse
away and leave her clean. She’ll be named the Sarah Allen, and Sarah’ll
christen her herself.

HORNE--It oughter been done, by rights, when we launched her a month
back.

BARTLETT--[_Sternly._] I know that as well as ye. [_After a pause._] She
wasn’t willin’ to do it then. Women has queer notions--when they’re
sick, like. [_Defiantly--as if he were addressing someone outside of the
room._] But Sarah’ll be willin’ now! She’ll be willin’ in spite o’----
[_Catching himself and abruptly lowering his voice._] The schooner’ll be
christened tomorrow at dawn afore she sails.

HORNE--Yes, sir. [_He again turns to go, as if he were anxious to get
away._]

BARTLETT--Wait! There’s somethin’ else I want to ask ye. Nat, he’s been
hangin’ round the schooner all his spare time o’ late. I seen him
talkin’ to you and Cates and Jimmy. [_With rising anger._] I hope ye’ve
remembered what I ordered ye, all three. Not a word o’ it to him! I said
I’d keep him out o’ this, for his own good, mind! And if I thought any
of ye---- [_His fist is raised threateningly, and he glares savagely at
Horne._]

HORNE--[_Retreating a step--hastily._] No fear o’ that, sir! We’ve been
keerful. But it’s hard. He’s a sharp one, Nat is. And when we tells him
the schooner’s fitted out for tradin’ in the islands, he just laughs.
He’s gettin’ the wind on somethin’--without any o’ us sayin’ a word.

BARTLETT--[_In relieved tones._] Let him s’spect all he’s a mind to--as
long as he don’t know. It ain’t that I’m afeerd to tell him o’ the gold,
Silas Horne. He’ll share that, anyway. [_Slowly._] It’s them--other
things--I’d keep him clear of.

HORNE--[_Immediately guessing what he means--reassuringly._] We was all
out o’ our heads with thirst and sun when them things happened, sir.

BARTLETT--Mad? Aye! But I ain’t forgot--them two. [_Harshly._] I’d
rather be you nor me, Silas Horne. You be too rotten bad to care. And
I’d rather be Cates or Jimmy. Cates be too dull to remember, and Jimmy
be proud as a boy o’ what he done. [_He represses a shudder--then goes
on slowly._] Do they ever come back to you--when you’re asleep, I mean?

HORNE--[_Pretending mystification._] Who’s that, sir?

BARTLETT--[_With sombre emphasis._] That cook and that boy. They come to
me. I’m gettin’ to be afeered o’ goin’ to sleep--not ’feered o’ them, I
don’t mean. [_With sudden defiant bravado._] Not all the ghosts out o’
hell kin keep me from a thing I’ve set my mind on. [_Collecting
himself._] But I’ve waked up talkin’ out loud--to them--and I’m afeerd
there might be someone hear me. That’s why I’ve been sleepin’ down here
to the boat-house all alone.

HORNE--[_Uneasily--with an attempt to be reassuring._] You ain’t all
cured o’ that sun and thirst on the island yet, sir.

BARTLETT--[_Evidently reassured--roughly._] O’ course! D’ye think I’d
really believe in things in nightmares? [_With an attempt at
conviviality._] Sit down a bit, Horne, and take a grog. [HORNE _does
so_. BARTLETT _pours out a half-tumbler full of rum for himself and
shoves the bottle over to_ HORNE.]

HORNE--Luck to our vige, sir.

BARTLETT--Aye, luck! [_They drink._ BARTLETT _leans over and taps_ HORNE
_on the arm_.] Aye, it takes time to get cured o’ thirst and sun! Lucky
that tradin’ schooner picked us up the time she did.

HORNE--If she hadn’t--we’d been as dead men--as them two.

BARTLETT--[_Somberly--after a pause._] I spoke no word, Silas Horne,
d’ye remember?

HORNE--Nor me. Jimmy did it alone. [_Craftily._] We’d all three swear
Bible oaths to that in any court. And even if ye’d given the word, there
ain’t no good thinkin’ more o’ it, sir. Didn’t they deserve all they
got--that thief o’ a cook and that boy? Wasn’t they plottin’ on the sly
to steal the gold?

BARTLETT--[_His eyes gleaming._] Aye!

HORNE--And when you said he’d get no share of it, didn’t he lie to your
face that it wasn’t gold--thinkin’ we’d leave it be and he’d git it all
for himself?

BARTLETT--[_With sudden rage._] Aye, brass and junk, he said, the lyin’
scum! That’s what he keeps sayin’ when I see him in sleep! He didn’t
believe--makin’ a mock o’ me--an’ then he owned up himself ’twas gold!
He knew! He lied a-purpose! He was a cunnin’ rat--a thief ashore afore
they shipped him with us, I reckon.

HORNE--[_Eagerly._] Most like, sir.

BARTLETT--[_Rising to his feet--with confident defiance._] They deserved
no better nor they got. Let ’em rot! [_Pouring out another drink for
himself and_ HORNE.] We’ll drink, an’ then ye get back to the ship. Tell
Cates and Jimmy we sail at dawn--sure! [_He drinks._]

HORNE--Luck, sir! [_He drinks. There is a knock at the door on the left
followed by_ MRS. BARTLETT’S _voice calling feebly_, “ISAIAH! ISAIAH!”
BARTLETT _starts but makes no answer. He seems suddenly sunk in gloom
again._ HORNE _turns to him questioningly._] It’s Mrs. Bartlett, sir.
Shall I open the door?

BARTLETT--No. I ain’t aimin’ to see her--yet awhile. [_Then with sudden
reasonless rage._] Let her in, damn ye! [HORNE _goes and unhooks the
door_. MRS. BARTLETT _enters. She is a slight, slender little woman of
fifty. Sickness, or the inroads of a premature old age, have bowed her
shoulders, whitened her hair, and forced her to walk feebly with the aid
of a cane. A resolute spirit still flashes from her eyes, however, and
there is a look of fixed determination on her face. She stands gazing at
her husband. There is something accusing in her stare._]

BARTLETT--[_Avoiding her eyes--brusquely._] Well? What is it ye want o’
me, Sarah?

MRS. B.--I want to speak with you alone, Isaiah.

HORNE--I’ll be gettin’ back aboard, sir. [_Starts to go._]

BARTLETT--[_In a tone almost of fear._] Wait. I’m goin’ with ye.
[_Turning to his wife--with a certain rough tenderness._] Ye oughtn’t to
walk down the hill here, Sarah. The doctor told ye to rest in the house
and save your strength.

MRS. B.--I want to speak to you alone, Isaiah. You never come to home no
more, hardly, so I had to come to ye. [_Accusingly._] You know it ain’t
walkin’ is sappin’ my strength, Isaiah.

BARTLETT--[_Very uneasily._] I’ve got to work on the schooner, Sarah.
That’s why I’ve no time to home.

MRS. B.--She’ll be sailin’ soon?

BARTLETT--[_Suddenly turning on her defiantly._] Tomorrow at dawn!

MRS. B.--[_With her eyes fired accusingly on his._] And you be goin’
with her?

BARTLETT--[_In the same defiant tone._] Yes, I be! Who else’d captain
her?

MRS. B.--On a craft without a name.

BARTLETT--She’ll have that name.

MRS. B.--No.

BARTLETT--She’ll have that name, I tell ye.

MRS. B.--No.

BARTLETT--[_Thoroughly aroused, his will tries to break hers, but finds
her unbending. He mutters menacingly._] Ye’ll see! We’ll talk o’ that
later, you and me. [_With sudden apprehension._] But not now. They’s
plenty o’ time yet for that. Come on, Horne, we’ll get aboard. [_Without
a further glance at his wife he strides past her and disappears through
the doorway, followed by_ HORNE. MRS. BARTLETT _sinks down in the chair
by the table. She appears suddenly weak and crushed. Then from outside
comes a girl’s laughing voice._ MRS. BARTLETT _does not seem to hear,
nor to notice_ SUE _and_ DREW _when they enter_. SUE _is a slender,
pretty girl of about twenty, with large blue eyes, reddish-brown hair,
and a healthy, sun-tanned, out-of-door complexion. In spite of the
slightness of her figure there is a suggestion of great vitality and
nervous strength about her._ DREW _is a well-set-up, tall young fellow
of thirty. Not in any way handsome, his boyish face, tanned to a deep
brown, possesses an engaging character of healthy, cheerful
forcefullness that has its compelling charm. There would be no chance of
mistaking him for anything but the ship’s officer he is. It is written
on his face, his walk, his voice, his whole bearing._]

SUE--[_As they enter._] He’ll either be here or on the schooner, Danny.
[_Then she sees her mother, with startled amazement._] Ma! Good heavens,
what are you doing here? [_Throwing her arms around her neck and kissing
her._] Don’t you know you shouldn’t----

MRS. B.--[_With a start--turning to her daughter with a forced smile._]
There, Sue, now! Don’t go scoldin’ me. [_Then seeing_ DREW--_in a tone
of forced gaiety_.] And if there ain’t Danny Drew--back home to port at
last! You can kiss an old woman, Danny--without makin’ her jealous, I
reckon.

DREW--[_Kissing her--with a smile._] I don’t know about that, Ma
Bartlett. [_Heartily._] It certainly seems good to see you again--and be
back again myself.

MRS. B.--We’ve been expectin’ you right along this past month. Then we
read in the paper t’other day where your ship’d reached San Francisco,
and we knew you’d be down any day. Sue’s been on pins and needles ever
since.

SUE--[_Protestingly._] Ma!

DREW--We were delayed in Valparaiso, waiting for cargo. [_With a grin._]
It’s a long time to be away from Sue--four months.

SUE--[_Laughing._] It seems more like four years!

DREW--You remember, Ma, I left just after the big excitement here--when
Captain Bartlett turned up after we’d all heard the Triton was wrecked
and given him up for lost. That was sure a wonderful surprise when he
walked into the house that day.

MRS. B.--[_Her face clouding--in a tone of deep sorrow._] Yes. [DREW _is
surprised and glances at_ SUE _questioningly_. She sighs. MRS. BARTLETT
_gets to her feet with difficulty, assisted by_ DREW. _She forces a
smile._] I’ve taken on a third leg since you was here, Danny!

SUE--We’ll help you back to the house. You can’t climb that steep hill
alone.

MRS. B.--Shucks! I’m sick o’ the house. I need sun and fresh air, and
today’s so nice I couldn’t stay indoors. I’ll take your arm to hold on
to, Danny. No, I ain’t goin’ up to the house yet awhile, so don’t you
try to bully me into it, Sue. I’m goin’ to set in the shade o’ this shed
out on the wharf and watch your Pa workin’ on the schooner. Ain’t much
time left to see her, Sue. They’re sailin’ tomorrow at dawn, your Pa
says.

SUE--Tomorrow? Then--you’re going to christen her?

MRS. B.--[_With grim determination._] No, I ain’t, Sue! [_Catching_
DREW’S _glance fixed on her with puzzled curiosity, she immediately
attempts to resume her joking tone_.] Shucks! Here’s Danny wonderin’
what silliness we’re talkin’ of. It’s just this, Danny. Captain
Bartlett, he’s got a crazy notion in his head that just because his ship
was wrecked last vige he’ll give up whalin’ for life. He’s fitted out
this little schooner for tradin’ in the Islands. More money in that, he
says. But I don’t agree with no such lunatic notions, and I’m just that
stubborn I’m not goin’ to set my approval on his craziness by
christenin’ his ship with my name, like he wants me to. He’d ought to
stick to whalin,’ like he’s done all his life. Don’t you think so,
Danny?

DREW--[_Embarrassed._] Why, sure--he’s rated one of the smartest whaling
skippers here on the coast--and I should think----

MRS. B.--Just what I tell him--only he’s that stubborn. I’d best get out
quick while it’s still sunny and warm. It’s damp in here for an old
body. [DREW _helps her to the door on the left, opens it, and the two go
out, followed by_ SUE, _who carries a chair. After a pause_, SUE _and_
DREW _return_. SUE _carefully shuts the door after them. Her face is
troubled._]

DREW--[_Looks at her for a minute, then comes and puts his arm around
her and kisses her._] What’s the trouble, Sue?

SUE--[_Trying to force a smile._] Nothing, Danny.

DREW--Oh, yes there is! No use putting me off that way. Why, I’ve felt
it hanging about in the air ever since I first looked at your mother.

SUE--Yes, she’s failed terribly since you saw her last.

DREW--Oh, I don’t mean just sickness--only--did you notice how she had
to--force herself--to joke about things? She used to be so cheerful
natural. [_Scratching his head in honest puzzlement._] But--that ain’t
what I mean, either. What is it, Sue? Maybe I can help somehow. You look
worried, too. Pshaw! You can tell me, can’t you?

SUE--Why, yes, Danny--of course--if I could tell--only I’m just as
puzzled as you over what it comes from.

DREW--[_Persuasively._] Well, you sit down and tell me what’s happened
since I’ve been away. Then maybe we can put our heads together and
figure out what’s wrong, and turn to get things ship-shape again. [SUE
_sits down but does not speak_. DREW _remarks as if to get her
started_.] That schooner’s a smart little craft for sailing, I should
say. I didn’t notice no one about working, though.

SUE--No. They’re probably below in the cabin, drinking. That’s all
they’ve been doing lately. The schooner’s been ready to sail for two
weeks--but Pa has kept waiting--I don’t know what for. Yes, I do know,
too--I think I guess. He’s been waiting for Ma to give in and christen
the ship with her name. But she won’t give in. You heard her.

DREW--Well, I suppose she does take it to heart that he’d give up the
business he’s been in all his life to go in for something new--at his
age.

SUE--He mortgaged the house to get money to buy and fit out this
schooner. You know he lost most everything when the Triton was wrecked.
He’d only had her two years, and she cost him a pile of money. Then,
too, he’s lost a lot all his life--since he and Ma moved out here from
the East--investing in all sorts of silly mining ventures--gold mines
that always turned out to be only holes in the ground. As far back as I
can remember he’s never seemed to care about the whaling business--the
oil. Ambergris was what he was after. Finding one chunk of that meant
more to him than a full cargo of oil.

DREW--[_With a grin._] “Old Ambergris.” That’s what they call him along
the coast--behind his back, of course. I reckon he was sort of
prospecting the Pacific Ocean looking for an ambergris mine.
[_Apologetically._] Sounds as if I was making fun of him, but you
remember how you’n’ me ’n’ Nat used to laugh about it together.

SUE--It’s past a laughing matter now, Danny.

DREW--And what do you reckon the real trouble is?

SUE--Something between him and Ma--something that only the two of them
know. It all seemed to start one morning after you’d left--about a week
after he’d come home with those three awful men. During that first week
he acted all right--just like he used to--only he’d get talking kind of
wild now and then about being glad the Triton was lost, and promising
we’d all be millionaires once he started making trips on the schooner.
Ma didn’t seem to mind his going in for trading then. Then, the night of
the day he bought the schooner, something must have happened between
them. Neither of them came down to breakfast. I went up to Ma, and found
her so sick we sent for the doctor. He said she’d suffered a great shock
of some kind, although she wouldn’t tell him a word. I found Pa down in
this shed. He’d moved that cot down here, and said he’d have to sleep
here after that because he wanted to be near the schooner. It’s been
that way ever since. He’s slept down here and never come up to the house
except at mealtimes. He’s never been alone with Ma one second since
then, I don’t believe. And she--she’s been trying to corner him, to get
him alone. I’ve noticed it, although she does her best to hide it from
Nat and me. And she’s been failing, growing weaker and sicker looking
every day. [_Breaking down._] Oh, Danny, these last months have been
terrible! I’m so glad you’re back again.

DREW--[_Soothing her._] There! It’ll all come out right.

SUE--I’m sure that’s why she’s crept down here today. She’s bound she’ll
see him alone before he sails.

DREW--Well, maybe it’s for the best. Maybe when they’ve had it out,
things’ll clear up.

SUE--Yes, perhaps. But I can’t help feeling--it’ll only make it worse.

DREW--[_Frowning._] Seems to me it must be all your Pa’s fault,
Sue--whatever it is. Have you tried to talk to him?

SUE--Yes--a good many times; but all he’s ever said was: “There’s things
you wouldn’t take interest in, Sue. You’ll know when it’s time to
know.”--and then he’d break off by asking me what I’d like most to have
in the world if he had piles of money. And then, one time, he seemed to
be terribly afraid of something, and he said to me: “You hustle up and
marry Danny, Sue. You marry him and get out of this.”

DREW--[_With an affectionate grin._] That does sound crazy--any man
wanting to get rid of you that way. [_A note of entreaty in his voice._]
But I surely wish you’d take his advice, Sue! [_He kisses her._]

SUE--[_With intense longing._] Oh, I wish I could, Danny.

DREW--I’ve quite considerable saved now, Sue, and it won’t be so long
before I get my own ship, I’m hoping, now that I’ve got my master’s
certificate. I was hoping at the end of this voyage----

SUE--So was I, Danny--but it can’t be this time. With Ma so weak, and no
one to take care of her but me---- [_Shaking her head--in a tone of
decision._] I couldn’t leave home now, Danny. It wouldn’t be right. I
couldn’t feel really happy--until this thing--whatever it is--is settled
between Pa and Ma and they’re just as they used to be again.
[_Pleadingly._] You understand, don’t you, Danny?

DREW--[_Soberly._] Why--surely I do, Sue. [_He pats her hand._] Only,
it’s hard waiting. [_He sighs._]

SUE--I know. It’s just as hard for me.

DREW--I thought maybe I could help; but this isn’t anything anyone
outside your family could mix in. [SUE _shakes her head. He goes on
gloomily after a pause._] What’s the matter with Nat? Seems as if he
ought to be able to step in and talk turkey to your Pa.

SUE--[_Slowly._] You’ll find Nat changed, too, Danny--changed terribly.
He’s caught the disease--whatever it is. You know how interested in his
work he’s been ever since they put him in the designing department down
in the shipyard?

DREW--Yes.

SUE--[_With emphasis._] Well, all that’s changed. He hates it now, or at
least he says he does. And when he comes home, he spends all his time
prowling around the dock here, talking with those three awful men. And
what do you think he told me only the other day? That he was bound he’d
throw up his job and make this voyage on the schooner. He even asked me
to ask Pa to let him go.

DREW--Your Pa doesn’t want him to, eh?

SUE--Why, of course not! Leave a fine position he worked so hard to get
just for this crazy notion! Pa’d never let him. He’s even ordered him to
keep off the schooner and not to talk to those men.

DREW--Funny Nat’d like to go to sea. He’s always seemed to want to fight
shy of it.

SUE--The terrible part is, he’s got Ma worried to death--as if she
wasn’t upset enough already. She’s so afraid he’ll go--that Pa’ll let
him at the last moment. She’s always pleading with Nat not to think of
it--so that he keeps out of her way, too. Poor Ma! She’s only got me to
talk to.

DREW--Maybe I can help after all. I can talk to Nat.

SUE--[_Shaking her head._] He’s not the same Nat, Danny.

DREW--[_Trying to be consoling._] Pshaw, Sue! I think you just get to
imagining things. [_As he finishes speaking, the door in the rear opens
and_ NAT _appears. He is a tall, loose-framed boy of eighteen, who bears
a striking resemblance to his father. His face, like his father’s, is
large and bony, with deep-set black eyes, an aquiline nose, and a wide,
thin-lipped mouth. There is no suggestion in_ NAT, _however, of the
older man’s physical health and great strength. He appears an indoor
product, undeveloped in muscle, with a sallow complexion and stooped
shoulders. His thick hair is a deep black. His voice recalls his
father’s, hollow and penetrating. He is dressed in a grey flannel shirt
and corduroy trousers._ DREW _calls out to him, heartly_.] Hello, Nat!
Speak of the Devil! Sue and I were just talking about you. [_He goes
toward_ NAT, _his hand outstretched_.]

NAT--[_Comes toward them, meets_ DREW, _and shakes his hand with evident
pleasure_.] Hello, Danny! You’re a sight for sore eyes! [_His manner
undergoes a sudden change. He casts a quick, suspicious glance from_
DREW _to his sister_.] You were talking about me? What about?

SUE--[_Quickly--with a warning glance at_ DREW.] About your work down at
the shipyard.

NAT--[_Disgustedly._] Oh, that. [_In a tone of reasonless irritation._]
For God’s sake, Sue, let me alone about my work. Don’t I have to live
with the damn thing all day, without your shoving it in my face the
minute I get home? I want to forget it--get away!

DREW--Go to sea, eh?

NAT--[_Suspiciously._] Maybe. Why? What do you mean?

DREW--[_Warned by a glance from Sue, says carelessly._] Well, that’s
where you’d be apt to go, isn’t it?

NAT--[_Suspiciously._] That isn’t what you were thinking, Danny.
[_Turning to his sister--angrily._] What have you been telling Danny?

SUE--I was talking about the schooner--telling him that she sails
tomorrow.

NAT--[_Dumfounded._] Tomorrow? [_Overcome by sudden, nervous
excitement._] It can’t be. How do you know? Who told you?

SUE--Ma. Pa told her.

NAT--Then she’s been talking to him--telling him not to take me, I’ll
bet. [_Angrily._] Oh, I wish Ma’d mind her own business!

SUE--Nat!

NAT--Well, Sue, how would you like it? I’m not a little boy any more. I
know what I want to do. I want to go with them. I want to go more than
I’ve ever wanted anything else in my life before. He--he doesn’t want
me. He’s afraid I--But I think I can force him to---- [_He glances at_
DREW’S _amazed face and stops abruptly--sullenly_.] Where is Pa?

SUE--He’s aboard the schooner.

NAT--[_Disappointedly._] Then it’s no good trying to see him now. I’ll
have to wait.

DREW--Sound’s funny to hear you talking about going to sea. Why, you
always used----

NAT--[_Wearily._] I know. This is different.

DREW--You want to see the Islands, I suppose?

NAT--[_Suspiciously._] Maybe. Why not?

DREW--What group is your Pa heading for first?

NAT--[_More suspiciously._] You’ll have to ask him. Why do you want to
know? [_Abruptly._] You better be getting up to the house, Sue--if we’re
to have any supper. Danny must be hungry. [_He turns his back on them.
They exchange meaning glances._]

SUE--[_With a sigh._] It must be getting late. Come on, Danny. You can
see Pa later on. [_They go toward the door in the rear._] Aren’t you
coming, Nat?

NAT--No. I’ll wait. [_Impatiently._] Go ahead. I’ll be up before long.

DREW--See you later, then, Nat.

NAT--Yes. [_They go out, rear._ NAT _paces up and down in a great state
of excitement. The door on the left is opened and_ BARTLETT _enters. His
eyes are wild, as if he had been drinking heavily, but he shows no
other effects. Father and son stand looking at one another for a
second._ NAT _takes a step backward as if in fear, then straightens up
defiantly_.]

BARTLETT--[_Slowly._] Is this the way ye mind my orders, boy? I’ve told
ye time an’ again not to be sneakin’ and spyin’ around this wharf.

NAT--I’m not sneaking and spying. I wanted to talk to you, Pa.

BARTLETT--[_Sits down by the table._] Well, here I be.

NAT--Sue said the schooner sails tomorrow.

BARTLETT--Aye!

NAT--[_Resolutely._] I want to go with you, Pa.

BARTLETT--[_Briefly--as if dismissing the matter._] Ye can’t. I’ve told
ye that before. Let this be the last time ye ask it.

NAT--But why? Why can’t I go?

BARTLETT--Ye’ve your own work to do--good work. Attend to that and leave
me to mine.

NAT--But you always wanted me to go on voyages to learn whaling with
you.

BARTLETT--This be different.

NAT--[_With excited indignation._] Yes, this is different! Don’t I know
it? Do you think you can hide that from me? It is different, and that’s
why I want to go.

BARTLETT--Ye can’t, I say.

NAT--[_Pleadingly._] But why not, Pa? I’m not a boy. I can do a man’s
work on a ship, or anywhere else.

BARTLETT--[_Roughly._] Let’s have done with talk! Your place is here,
with Sue and your Ma, and here you’ll stay.

NAT--[_Angrily._] That isn’t any reason. But I know your real one.
You’re afraid----

BARTLETT--[_Half rising to his feet._] Ye say that to me? [_Recovering
himself with an effort and settling down again._] Keep a clapper on your
jaw, boy. That’s talk I’ll not put up with. [_With a touch of
uneasiness--forcing a scornful laugh._] Afeerd! Afeerd o’ what? Did ye
ever know me to be afeerd?

NAT--Afraid of what I know, of what I might find out if I went with you.

BARTLETT--[_With the same forced, uneasy scorn._] And what d’ye think
ye’d find out, Nat?

NAT--First of all that it’s not a trading venture you’re going on. Oh,
I’m not a fool! That story is all right to fool the neighbors and girls
like Sue. But I know better.

BARTLETT--What d’ye know?

NAT--You’re going for something else.

BARTLETT--What would that be?

NAT--I don’t know--exactly. Something--on that island.

BARTLETT--What?

NAT--I don’t know. But I could guess a lot of things. [_With sudden
excitement._] Ambergris! That’s it! Is that it? It must be. That’s what
you’ve been hunting for years.

BARTLETT--Aye--and never found! [_He gets to his feet with a forced
burst of laughter._] Ambergris! Ye fool of a boy! Ye got that notion out
o’ some fool book ye’ve been reading, didn’t ye? And I thought ye’d
growed to be a man! [_More and more wild in his forced scorn._] Ye’ll be
tellin’ me next it’s buried treasure I be sailin’ after--pirates’ gold
buried on that island--all in a chest--and a map to guide me with a
cross marked on it where the gold is hid! And then they be ghosts
guardin’ it, ben’t they--spirits o’ murdered men? They always be, in the
books. [_He laughs scornfully._]

NAT--[_Gazing at him with fascinated eyes._] No, not that last. That’s
silly--but I did think you might have found--

BARTLETT--[_Laughing again._] Treasure? Gold? [_With forced sternness._]
Nat, I be ashamed of ye. Ye’ve had schoolin’, and ye’ve been doin’ a
man’s work in the world, and doin’ it well, and I’d hoped ye’d take my
place here to home when I be away, and look after your Ma and Sue. But
ye’ve owned up to bein’ little better nor a boy in short britches,
dreamin’ o’ pirates’ gold that never was ’cept in books.

NAT--But you--you’re to blame. When you first came home you did nothing
but talk mysteriously of how rich we’d all be when the schooner got
back.

BARTLETT--[_Roughly._] But what’s that to do with silly dreams? It’s in
the line o’ trade I meant.

NAT--But why be so mysterious about trade? There’s something you’re
hiding. You can’t say no because I feel it.

BARTLETT--[_Insinuatingly--with a crafty glance at his son._] Supposin’
in one of them Eastern trading ports I’d run across a bit o’ business
with a chance for a fortune in it for a man that wasn’t afeerd of the
law, and could keep his mouth shut?

NAT--[_Disappointed._] You mean illegal trading?

BARTLETT--I mean what I mean, Nat--and I’d be a fool to tell an
overgrown boy, or two women--or any man in the world, for the matter o’
that--what I do mean.

NAT--[_Turning toward the door in the rear--disgustedly._] If it’s only
that, I don’t want to hear it. [_He walks toward the door--stops and
turns again to his father._] No, I don’t believe it. That’s not like
you. You’re not telling the truth, Pa.

BARTLETT--[_Rising to his feet--with a savage sternness in which there
is a wild note of entreaty._] I’ve listened to your fool’s talk enough.
Get up to the house where ye belong! I’ll stand no more o’ your meddling
in business o’ mine. I’ve been patient with ye, but there’s an end to
that! Take heed o’ what I’m sayin’, if ye know what’s good for ye! I’d
rather see ye dead tonight than sail on that schooner at dawn. I’d kill
ye with my own hands first! [_With a sort of sombre pride._] I’ll stand
alone in this business and finish it out alone if I go to hell for it.
Ye hear me?

NAT--[_Alarmed by this outburst--submissively._] Yes, Pa.

BARTLETT--Then see that ye heed. [_After a pause--as_ NAT _lingers_.]
They’ll be waitin’ for ye at the house.

NAT--All right. I’ll go. [_He turns to the doorway on the left, but
before he gets to it, the door is pushed open and_ MRS. BARTLETT
_enters_. NAT _stops, startled_.] Ma!

MRS. BARTLETT--[_With a forced smile._] Run along, Nat. It’s all right.
I want to speak with your Pa.

BARTLETT--[_Uneasily._] Ye’d best go up with Nat, Sarah. I’ve work to
do.

MRS. BARTLETT--[_Fixing her eyes on her husband._] I want to talk with
you alone, Isaiah.

BARTLETT--[_Grimly--as if he were accepting a challenge._] As ye like,
then.

MRS. BARTLETT--[_Dismissing_ NAT _with a feeble attempt at a smile_.]
Tell Sue I’ll be comin’ up directly, Nat.

NAT--[_Hesitates for a moment, looking from one to the other
uneasily._] All right, Ma. [_He goes out._]

BARTLETT--[_Waits for_ NAT _to get out of hearing_.] Won’t ye set,
Sarah? [_She comes forward and sits by the table. He sits by the other
side._]

MRS. BARTLETT--[_Shuddering as she sees the bottle on the table._] Will
drinkin’ this poison make you forget, Isaiah?

BARTLETT--[_Gruffly._] I’ve naught to forget--leastways naught that’s in
your mind. But they’s things about the stubborn will o’ woman I’d like
to forget. [_They look at each other across the table. There is a pause.
Finally he cannot stand her accusing glance. He looks away, gets to his
feet, walks about, then sits down again, his face set determinedly--with
a grim smile._] Well, here we be, Sarah--alone together for the first
time since--

MRS. BARTLETT--[_Quickly._] Since that night, Isaiah.

BARTLETT--[_As if he hadn’t heard._] Since I come back to you, almost.
Did ye ever stop to think o’ how strange it be we’d ever come to this? I
never dreamed a day’d come when ye’d force me to sleep away from ye,
alone in a shed like a mangy dog!

MRS. BARTLETT--[_Gently._] I didn’t drive you away, Isaiah. You came o’
your own will.

BARTLETT--Because o’ your naggin’ tongue, woman--and the wrong ye
thought o’ me.

MRS. BARTLETT--[_Shaking her head, slowly._] It wasn’t me you ran from,
Isaiah. You ran away from your own self--the conscience God put in you
that you think you can fool with lies.

BARTLETT--[_Starting to his feet--angrily._] Lies?

MRS. BARTLETT--It’s the truth, Isaiah, only you be too weak to face it.

BARTLETT--[_With defiant bravado._] Ye’ll find I be strong enough to
face anything, true or lie! [_Then protestingly._] What call have ye to
think evil o’ me, Sarah? It’s mad o’ ye to hold me to account for things
I said in my sleep--for the damned nightmares that set me talkin’ wild
when I’d just come home and my head was still cracked with the thirst
and the sun I’d borne on that island. Is that right, woman, to be
blamin’ me for mad dreams?

MRS. BARTLETT--You confessed the rest of what you said was true--of the
gold you’d found and buried there.

BARTLETT--[_With a sudden fierce exultation._] Aye--that be true as
Bible, Sarah. When I’ve sailed back in the schooner, ye’ll see for
yourself. There be a big chest o’ it, yellow and heavy, and fixed up
with diamonds, emeralds and sech, that be worth more, even, nor the
gold. We’ll be rich, Sarah--rich like I’ve always dreamed we’d be!
There’ll be silks and carriages for ye--all the woman’s truck in the
world ye’ve a mind to want--and all that Nat and Sue’ll want, too.

MRS. BARTLETT--[_With a shudder._] Are you tryin’ to bribe me,
Isaiah--with a treasure that’s been cursed by God?

BARTLETT--[_As if he hadn’t heard._] D’ye remember long ago, back East,
just after we was married, and I was skipper o’ my first whalin’ ship,
how that foreigner come to me with the map o’ the pirates’ gold and
asked me to charter the ship? D’ye remember o’ how I’d talk to ye o’
findin’ ambergris, a pile o’ it on one vige that’d make us rich? Ye used
to take interest then, and all th’ voyage with me ye’d be hopin’ I’d
find it, too.

MRS. BARTLETT--That was my sin o’ greed that I’m bein’ punished for now.

BARTLETT--[_Again as if he hadn’t heard._] And now when it’s come to us
at last--bigger nor I ever dreamed on--ye drive me away from ye and say
it’s cursed.

MRS. BARTLETT--[_Inexorably._] Cursed with the blood o’ the man and boy
ye murdered!

BARTLETT--[_In a mad rage._] Ye lie, woman! I spoke no word!

MRS. BARTLETT--That’s what you kept repeatin’ in your sleep, night after
night that first week you was home, till I knew the truth, and could
bear no more. “I spoke no word!” you kept sayin’, as if ’twas your own
soul had you at the bar of judgment. And “That cook, he didn’t believe
’twas gold,” you’d say, and curse him.

BARTLETT--[_Wildly._] He was lyin’, the thief! Lyin’ so’s he and the boy
could steal th’ gold. I made him own up he was lyin’. What if it’s all
true, what ye heard? Hadn’t we the right to do away with two thieves?
And we was all mad with thirst and sun. Can ye hold madmen to account
for the things they do?

MRS. BARTLETT--You wasn’t so crazed but you remember.

BARTLETT--I remember I spoke no word, Sarah--as God’s my judge!

MRS. BARTLETT--But you could have prevented it with a word, couldn’t
you, Isaiah? That heathen savage lives in the fear of you. He’d not have
done it if----

BARTLETT--[_Gloomily._] That’s woman’s talk. There be three o’ us can
swear in any court I spoke no word.

MRS. BARTLETT--What are courts? Can you swear it to yourself? You can’t,
and it’s that’s drivin’ you mad, Isaiah. Oh, I’d never have believed it
of you for all you said in sleep, if it wasn’t for the way you looked
and acted out of sleep. I watched you that first week, Isaiah, till the
fear of it had me down sick. I had to watch you, you was so strange and
fearful to me. At first I kept sayin’, ’twas only you wasn’t rid o’ the
thirst and the sun yet. But then, all to once, God gave me sight, and I
saw ’twas guilt written on your face, on the queer stricken way you
acted, and guilt in your eyes. [_She stares into them._] I see it now,
as I always see it when you look at me. [_She covers her face with her
hands with a sob._]

BARTLETT--[_His face haggard and drawn--hopelessly, as if he were too
beaten to oppose her further--in a hoarse whisper._] What would ye have
me do, Sarah?

MRS. BARTLETT--[_Taking her hands from her face--her eyes lighting up
with religious fervor._] Confess your sin, Isaiah! Confess to God and
men, and make your peace and take your punishment. Forget that gold
that’s cursed and the voyage you be settin’ out on, and make your peace.
[_Passionately._] I ask you to do this for my sake and the children’s,
and your own most of all! I’ll get down on my knees, Isaiah, and pray
you to do it, as I’ve prayed to God to send you his grace! Confess and
wash your soul of the stain o’ blood that’s on it. I ask you that,
Isaiah--and God asks you--to make your peace with Him.

BARTLETT--[_His face tortured by the inward struggle--as if the word
strangled him._] Confess and let someone steal the gold! [_This thought
destroys her influence over him in a second. His obsession regains
possession of him instantly, filling him with rebellious strength. He
laughs harshly._] Ye’d make an old woman o’ me, would ye, Sarah?--an
old, Sunday go-to-meetin’ woman snivvelin’ and prayin’ to God for
pardon! Pardon for what? Because two sneakin’ thieves are dead and done
for? I spoke no word, I tell ye--but if I had, I’d not repent it. What
I’ve done I’ve done, and I’ve never asked pardon o’ God or men for ought
I’ve done, and never will. Confess, and give up the gold I’ve dreamed of
all my life that I’ve found at last! By thunder, ye must think I’m
crazed!

MRS. BARTLETT--[_Seeming to shrivel up on her chair as she sees she has
lost--weakly._] You be lost, Isaiah--no one can stop you.

BARTLETT--[_Triumphantly._] Aye, none’ll stop me. I’ll go my course
alone. I’m glad ye see that, Sarah.

MRS. BARTLETT--[_Feebly trying to get to her feet._] I’ll go to home.

BARTLETT--Ye’ll stay, Sarah. Ye’ve had your say, and I’ve listened to
ye; now I’ll have mine and ye listen to me. [MRS. BARTLETT _sinks back
in her chair exhaustedly_. BARTLETT _continues slowly_.] The schooner
sails at dawn on the full tide. I ask ye again and for the last time,
will ye christen her with your name afore she sails?

MRS. BARTLETT--[_Firmly._] No.

BARTLETT--[_Menacingly._] Take heed, Sarah, o’ what ye’re sayin’! I’m
your husband ye’ve sworn to obey. By right I kin order ye, not ask.

MRS. BARTLETT--I’ve never refused in anything that’s right--but this be
wicked wrong.

BARTLETT--It’s only your stubborn woman’s spite makes ye refuse. Ye’ve
christened every ship I’ve ever been skipper on, and it’s brought me
luck o’ a kind, though not the luck I wanted. And we’ll christen this
one with your own name to bring me the luck I’ve always been seekin’.

MRS. BARTLETT--[_Resolutely._] I won’t, Isaiah.

BARTLETT--Ye will, Sarah, for I’ll make ye. Ye force me to it.

MRS. BARTLETT--[_Again trying to get up._] Is this the way you talk to
me who’ve been a good wife to you for more than thirty years?

BARTLETT--[_Commandingly._] Wait! [_Threateningly._] If ye don’t
christen her afore she sails, I’ll take Nat on the vige along with me.
[MRS. BARTLETT _sinks back in her chair, stunned_.] He wants to go, ye
know it. He’s asked me a hundred times. He s’spects--’bout the gold--but
he don’t know for sartin. But I’ll tell him the truth o’ it, and he’ll
come with me, unless--

MRS. BARTLETT--[_Looking at him with terror-stricken
eyes--imploringly._] You won’t do that, Isaiah? You won’t take Nat away
from me and drag him into sin? I know he’ll go if you give him the word,
in spite of what I say. [_Pitifully._] You be only frightenin’ me! You
can’t be so wicked cruel as that.

BARTLETT--I’ll do it, I take my oath--unless--

MRS. BARTLETT--[_With hysterical anger._] Then I’ll tell him myself--of
the murders you did, and--

BARTLETT--[_Grimly._] And I’ll say ’twas done in fair fight to keep them
from stealin’ the gold! I’ll tell him your’s is a woman’s notion, and
he’ll believe me, not you. He’s his father’s son, and he’s set to go. Ye
know it, Sarah. [_She falls back in the chair hopelessly staring at him
with horrified eyes. He turns away and adds after a pause._] So ye’ll
christen the Sarah Allen in the mornin’ afore she sails, won’t ye,
Sarah?

MRS. BARTLETT--[_In a terrified tone._] Yes--if it’s needful to save
Nat--and God’ll forgive me when He sees my reason. But you--Oh, Isaiah!
[_She shudders and then breaks down, sobbing._]

BARTLETT--[_After a pause, turns to her humbly as if asking her
forgiveness._] Ye mustn’t think hard o’ me that I want your name. It’s
because it’s a good woman’s name, and I know it’ll bring luck to our
vige. I’d find it hard to sail without it--the way things be.

MRS. BARTLETT--[_Getting to her feet--in a state of feverish fear of
him._] I’m goin’ to home.

BARTLETT--[_Going to her._] I’ll help ye to the top o’ the hill, Sarah.

MRS. BARTLETT--[_Shrinking from him in terror._] No. Don’t you touch me!
Don’t you touch me! [_She hobbles quickly out of the door in the rear,
looking back frightenedly over her shoulder to see if he is following
as_


[_The Curtain Falls_]



ACT THREE


     SCENE--_Dawn of the following morning--exterior of the_ BARTLETT
     _home, showing the main entrance, facing left, toward the harbor.
     On either side of the door, two large windows, their heavy green
     shutters tightly closed. In front of the door, a small porch, the
     roof supported by four white column. A flight of three steps goes
     up to this porch from the ground. Two paths lead to the steps
     through the straggly patches of grass, one around the corner of the
     house to the rear, the other straight to the left to the edge of
     the cliff where there is a small projecting iron platform, fenced
     in by a rail. The top of a steel ladder can be seen. This ladder
     leads up the side or the cliff from the shore below to the
     platform. The edge of the cliff extends from the left corner front,
     half-diagonally back to the right, rear-center._

     _In the grey half-light of the dawn_, HORNE, CATES, _and_ JIMMY
     KANAKA _are discovered_. HORNE _is standing on the steel platform
     looking down at the shore below_. CATES _is sprawled on the ground
     nearby_. JIMMY _squats on his haunches, his eyes staring out to
     sea as if he were trying to pierce the distance to the warm islands
     of his birth_. CATES _wears dungarees_, JIMMY _dungaree pants and a
     black jersey_; HORNE, _the same as in_ ACT TWO.

CATES--[_With sluggish indifference._] Ain’t she finished with it yet?

HORNE--[_Irritably._] No, damn her! I kin see ’em all together on the
wharf at the bow o’ the schooner. That old crow o’ a woman o’ his! Why
the hell don’t she christen her and be done with it and let us make
sail?

CATES--[_After a pause._] Funny, ain’t it--his orderin’ us to come up
here and wait till it’s all done.

HORNE--[_Angrily._] That’s her doin’, too. She thinks we ain’t good
enough to be where she is. [_After a pause._] But there’s nothin’ funny
to me that he does no more. He’s still out o’ his head, d’ye know that,
Cates?

CATES--[_Stupidly._] I ain’t noticed nothin’ diff’rent ’bout him.

HORNE--[_Scornfully._] He axed me if I ever seen them two in my
sleep--that cook and the boy o’ the Triton. Said he did often.

CATES--[_Immediately protesting uneasily as if he had been accused._]
They was with us in the boat b’fore we fetched the island, that’s all
’bout ’em I remember. I was crazy, after.

HORNE--[_Looking at him with contempt._] So was we all crazy, for the
matter o’ that. I’ll not call ye a liar, Cates, but--a hell o’ a man ye
be! You wasn’t so out o’ your head that ye forgot the gold, was ye?

CATES--[_His eyes glistening._] That’s diff’rent. Any man’d remember
that, even if he was crazy.

HORNE--[_With a greedy grin._] Aye. That’s the one thing I see in my
sleep. [_Gloatingly._] We’ll dig it up soon now. In three months we’d
ought to be there--an’ then we’ll be rich, by Christ! [_There is the
faint sound of cries from the beach below._ HORNE _starts and turns to
look down again_.] They must ’a’ finished it. [CATES _and_ JIMMY _come
to the edge to look down_.]

JIMMY--[_Suddenly--with an eager childish curiosity._] That falla wife
Captain she make strong falla spell on ship, we sail fast, plenty good
wind?

HORNE--[_Contemptuously._] Aye, that’s as near as ye’ll come to it.
She’s makin’ a spell. Ye stay here, Jimmy, and tell us when the Old Man
is comin’. [JIMMY _remains looking down_. HORNE _motions_ CATES _to
follow him, front--then in a low voice, disgustedly_.] Did ye hear that
damn fool nigger?

CATES--[_Grumblingly._] Why the hell is the Old Man givin’ him a full
share? One piece o’ it’d be enough for a nigger like him.

HORNE--[_Craftily._] There’s a way to get rid o’ him--if it comes to
that. He knifed them two, ye remember.

CATES--Aye.

HORNE--The two o’ us can take oath to that in any court.

CATES--Aye.

HORNE--[_After a calculating look into his companion’s greedy
eyes--meaningly._] We’re two sane men, Cates--and the other two to share
is a lunatic and a nigger. The skipper’s showed me where there’s a copy
o’ his map o’ the island locked up in the cabin--in case anything
happens to him I’m to bring back the gold to his woman, he says. [_He
laughs harshly._] Bring it back! Catch me! The fool! I’ll be open with
ye, Cates. If I could navigate and find the island myself I wouldn’t
wait for a cracked man to take me there. No, be damned if I would! Me
and you’d chance it alone someway or other.

CATES--[_Greedily._] The two o’ us--share and share alike! [_Then
shaking his head warningly._] But he’s a hard man to git the best on.

HORNE--[_Grimly._] And I be a hard man, too. And he’s not right in his
head. We’ll keep our eyes peeled for a chance. Something may turn
up--and maybe--

JIMMY--[_Turning to them._] Captain, he come. [CATES _and_ HORNE
_separate hastily_. BARTLETT _climbs into sight up the ladder to the
platform. He is breathing heavily but his expression is one of
triumphant exultation._]

BARTLETT--[_Motions with his arms._] Down with ye and git aboard. The
schooner’s got a name now--a name that’ll bring us luck. We’ll sail on
this tide.

HORNE--Aye--aye, sir.

BARTLETT--I got to wait here till they climb up the path. I’ll be aboard
afore long. See that ye have her ready to cast off by then.

HORNE--Aye--aye, sir. [_He and_ CATES _disappear down the ladder_. JIMMY
_lingers, looking sidewise at his Captain_.]

BARTLETT--[_Noticing him--gruffly but almost kindly._] What are ye
waitin’ for?

JIMMY--[_Volubly._] That old falla wife belong you, Captain, she make
strong falla spell for wind blow plenty? She catch strong devil charm
for schooner, Captain?

BARTLETT--[_Scowling._] What’s that, ye brown devil? [_Then suddenly
laughing harshly._] Yes--a strong spell to bring us luck. [_Roughly._]
Git aboard, ye dog! Don’t let her find ye here with me. [JIMMY
_disappears hurriedly down the ladder_. BARTLETT _remains at the edge
looking down after him. There is a sound of voices from the right and
presently_ MRS. BARTLETT, SUE, DREW _and_ NAT _enter, coming around the
house from the rear_. NAT _and_ DREW _walk at either side of_ MRS.
BARTLETT, _who is in a state of complete collapse, so that they are
practically carrying her_. SUE _follows, her handkerchief to her eyes_.
NAT _keeps his eyes on the ground, his expression fixed and gloomy_.
DREW _casts a glance of angry indignation at the Captain, who, after one
indifferent look at them, has turned back to watch the operations on the
schooner below_.]

BARTLETT--[_As they reach the steps of the house--intent on the work
below--makes a megaphone of his hands and shouts in stentorian tones._]
Look lively there, Horne!

SUE--[_Protestingly._] Pa!

BARTLETT--[_Wheels about. When he meets his daughter’s eyes he controls
his angry impatience and speaks gently._] What d’ye want, Sue?

SUE--[_Pointing to her mother who is being assisted through the
door--her voice trembling._] You mustn’t shout. She’s very sick.

BARTLETT--[_Dully, as if he didn’t understand._] Sick?

SUE--[_Turning to the door._] Wait. I’ll be right back. [_She enters the
house. As soon as she is gone all of_ BARTLETT’S _excitement returns. He
paces up and down with nervous impatience._ NAT _comes out of the
house_.]

NAT--[_In a tone of anxiety._] Ma seems bad. We can’t do anything. I’m
going for the doctor. [_As his father doesn’t seem to hear him--tapping
him on the shoulder, his voice breaking._] Why did you make her do it,
Pa? It was too much for her strength. Wouldn’t anyone else or any other
name have done just as well?

BARTLETT--[_Impatiently._] No. It had to be.

NAT--When she spoke the words--and fell back in a faint--I thought she
was dead.

BARTLETT--[_Vaguely._] Weakness. She’ll be all right again after a rest.
[_He draws_ NAT’S _attention to the schooner_.] Smart lines on that
schooner, boy. She’ll sail hell bent in a breeze. I knowed what I was
about when I bought her.

NAT--[_Staring down fascinatedly._] How long will the voyage take?

BARTLETT--[_Preoccupied._] How long?

NAT--[_Insinuatingly._] To get to the island.

BARTLETT--Three months at most--with fair luck. [_Exultantly._] And I’ll
have luck now!

NAT--Then in six months you may be back--with _it_?

BARTLETT--Aye, with--[_Stopping abruptly, turns and stares into his
son’s eyes--angrily._] With what? What boy’s foolishness be ye talkin’?

NAT--[_Pleading fiercely._] I want to go, Pa! There’s no good in my
staying here any more. I can’t think of anything but--Oh, why don’t you
be fair and let me sail with you!

BARTLETT--[_Sternly, to conceal his uneasiness._] Keep clear o’ this,
boy, I’ve warned ye!

SUE--[_Appearing in doorway--indignantly._] Nat! Haven’t you gone for
the doctor yet?

NAT--[_Shame-facedly._] I forgot.

SUE--Forgot!

NAT--[_Starting off._] I’m going, Sue. [_Then over his shoulder._] You
won’t sail before I come back, Pa? [BARTLETT _does not answer_. NAT
_stands miserably hesitating_.]

SUE--Nat! For heaven’s sake! [NAT _hurries off around the corner of the
house, rear. Sue comes to her father who is watching her with a queer,
humble, hunted expression._]

BARTLETT--Well, Sue?

SUE--[_Her voice trembling._] Oh, Pa, how can you do such terrible
things. How could you drag Ma out of bed at dawn to christen your old
boat--when you knew how sick she’s been!

BARTLETT--[_Avoiding her eyes._] It’s only weakness. She’ll get well o’
it soon.

SUE--Pa! How can you say things like that--as if you didn’t care!
[_Accusingly._] The way you’ve acted ever since you’ve been home almost,
anyone would think--you _hated_ her!

BARTLETT--[_Wincing._] No!

SUE--Oh, Pa, what is it that has come between you? Can’t you tell me?
Can’t I help to set things right again?

BARTLETT--[_Mumblingly._] Nothin’--nothin’ ye kin help--nor me. Keep
clear o’ it, Sue. Danny--ye think o’ him, that’s enough for ye.

SUE--But things can’t go on like this. Don’t you see how it’s killing
Ma?

BARTLETT--She’ll forget her stubborn notions, now I be sailin’ away.

SUE--But you’re not--not going for a while now, are you?

BARTLETT--Ain’t I been sayin’ I’d sail at dawn today? They’re makin’ her
ready to cast off. I’m waitin’ for Horne to hail.

SUE--[_Looking at him for a moment with shocked amazement._] But--you
can’t mean--right now!

BARTLETT--[_Keeping his face averted._] Aye--or we’ll miss this tide.

SUE--[_Putting her hands on his shoulders and trying to look into his
face._] Pa! You can’t mean that! [_His face is set with his obsessed
determination. She lets her hands fall with a shudder._] You can’t be as
cruel as that! Why, I thought, of course, you’d put off--[_Wildly._] You
have, haven’t you, Pa? You did tell those men you couldn’t sail when you
saw how sick Ma was, didn’t you--when she fainted down on the wharf?

BARTLETT--[_Implacably._] I said I was sailin’ by this tide--and sail I
will, by thunder!

SUE--Pa! [_Then pleadingly._] When the doctor comes and you hear what he
says--

BARTLETT--[_Roughly._] I ain’t stoppin’ on his word nor any man’s. I
know what’s best to do. [_Intensely._] That schooner’s been fit to sail
these two weeks past. I been waitin’ on her stubborn will [_he gestures
toward the house_], eatin’ my heart out day and night. Then I swore I’d
sail today. I tell ye, Sue, I got a feelin’ in my bones if I don’t put
out now I never will. Aye, I feel it deep down inside me. [_In a tone of
superstitious awe._] And when she christened the schooner--jest to the
minute, mind ye!--a fair breeze sprung up and come down out o’ the land
to blow her out to sea--like a sign o’ good luck.

SUE--[_Aroused to angry indignation._] What kind of a man have you
become--to think of such things now! Oh, I can’t believe you’re the same
man who used to be my father!

BARTLETT--Sue!

SUE--To talk cold-bloodedly of sailing away on a long voyage when Ma’s
inside--dying for all you seem to know or care! Oh, I hate you when
you’re like this! You’re not the father I love! You’ve changed into
someone else--hateful and cruel--and I hate him, I hate him! [_She
breaks down, sobbing hysterically._]

BARTLETT--[_Who has listened to her with a face suddenly stricken by
fear and torturing remorse._] Sue! Ye don’t know what ye be sayin’, do
ye?

SUE--I do! You’re not the same to me any more--or to any of us. I’m
afraid of you. And when you coldly propose to go away--now--I hate you,
yes I do! And I hate those three awful men who make you act this way. I
hate the schooner! I wish she and they were at the bottom of the sea!

BARTLETT--[_Frenziedly--putting his hand over her mouth to stop her
words._] Stop, girl! Don’t ye dare--

SUE--[_Shrinking away from him--frightenedly._] Pa!

BARTLETT--[_Bewilderedly, pleading for forgiveness._] Don’t heed that,
Sue--I didn’t mean--ye git me so riled--I’d not hurt ye for all the gold
in the world. But don’t ye talk wrong o’ things ye can’t know on.

SUE--Oh, Pa, what kind of things must they be--when you’re ashamed to
tell them!

BARTLETT--I ain’t ashamed. It ain’t that. On’y they be things a girl’s
no call to meddle in. They be men’s business and I be man enough to
carry ’em out alone. Ye’ll know all they be to know--and your Ma and
Nat, too--when I come back from this vige. And the sooner I sail, the
quicker I’ll be back to ye. Oh, ye’ll be glad enough then--when ye see
with your own eyes! Ye’ll bless me then ’stead o’ turning agin me!
[_Hesitating for a second--then somberly._] On’y now--till it’s all over
and done--ye’d best keep clear o’ it.

SUE--[_Passionately._] I don’t care--I don’t want to know anything about
it. What I do know is that you can’t sail now. Oh, Pa, don’t you see
you can’t? Haven’t you any heart at all? Can’t you see how bad Ma is?

BARTLETT--It’s the sight o’ me sickens her. She’ll git better with me
away from her.

SUE--No. She needs you. She doesn’t want you to go. She called your name
just a while ago--the only word she’s spoken since she christened the
ship. Come in to her, Pa! Tell her you won’t go!

BARTLETT--[_Desperately._] I got to git away from her, I tell ye, Sue!
She’s been houndin’ me ever since I got back--houndin’ me with her
stubborn tongue till she’s druv me mad, a’most! Ye’ve been on’y givin’
thought to her, not me. They’s my side to it, too!

SUE--I’ll talk to her, Pa. She can’t realize she’s hurting you or she
wouldn’t--And then everything will be just the same as it used to be
again.

BARTLETT--[_Shaking his head._] They be too much between. The only
chance for that be my plan--to sail away and come back with--what I be
seekin’. Then she’ll give over her stubborn naggin’--if she’s human
woman. It’s for her sake as much as my own I’m goin’--for her and you
and Nat. [_With a sudden return of his old resolution._] I’ve made up my
mind, I tell ye, and in the end ye’ll know I be right. [_A hail in_
HORNE’S _voice comes thinly up from the shore below_. BARTLETT _starts,
his eyes gleaming_.] Ye hear? It’s Horne hailin’ me to come. They be
ready to cast off. I’ll git aboard. [_He starts for the ladder._]

SUE--Pa! After all I’ve said--without one word of good-bye to Ma!
[_Hysterically._] Oh, what can I do, what can I say to stop you! She
hasn’t spoken but that one call for you. She hardly seems to breathe. If
it weren’t for her eyes I’d believe she was dead--but her eyes look for
you. She’ll die if you go, Pa!

BARTLETT--No!

SUE--You might just as well kill her now in cold blood as murder her
that way!

BARTLETT--[_Shaken--raising his hands as if to put them over his ears to
shut out her words--hoarsely._] No! Ye lie! She’ll live till I git back
and all’ll be as it was again!

DREW--[_Appearing in the doorway, his face working with grief and
anger--harshly._] Captain Bartlett! [_Then lowering his voice as he sees
Sue._] Mrs. Bartlett is asking to see you, Captain, before you go.

SUE--There! Didn’t I tell you, Pa!

BARTLETT--[_Struggling with himself--dully._] She’s wantin’ to bound me
again, that be all.

SUE--[_Seeing him weakening--grasps his hand persuasively._] Pa! Come
with me. She won’t hound you. How silly you are! Come! [_Hesitatingly,
head bowed, he follows her toward the door._]

BARTLETT--[_As he comes to_ DREW _he stops and looks into the young
man’s angry, accusing face. He mutters half mockingly._] So ye, too, be
agin me, Danny?

DREW--[_Unable to restrain his indignation._] What man that’s a real man
wouldn’t be against you, sir?

SUE--[_Frightenedly._] Danny! Pa!

BARTLETT--[_In a sudden rage draws back his fist threateningly._ DREW
_stares into his eyes unflinchingly_--BARTLETT _controls himself with an
effort and lets his arm fall to his side--scornfully_.] Big words from a
boy, Danny. I’ll forget them this time--on account o’ Sue. [_He turns to
her._] I’m goin’ in to her to please ye, Sue--but if ye think any words
that she kin say’ll change my mind, ye make a mistake--for I be sailin’
out as I planned I would in spite o’ all hell! [_He walks resolutely
into the house._ SUE _follows him after exchanging a hopeless glance
with_ DANNY.]

DREW--[_To himself--with a shudder._] He’s mad, damn him! [_He paces up
and down._ HORNE _appears on the ladder from below, followed by_ CATES.]

HORNE--[_Coming forward and addressing_ DREW.] Is the skipper about?

DREW--[_Curtly._] He’s in the house. You can’t speak to him now.

HORNE--She’s ready to cast off. I hailed him from below but I ’spect he
didn’t hear. [_As_ DREW _makes no comment--impatiently_.] If he don’t
shake a leg, we’ll miss the tide. There’s a bit o’ fair breeze, too.

DREW--[_Glancing at him resentfully._] Don’t count on his sailing today.
It’s just as likely he’ll change his mind.

HORNE--[_Angrily._] Change his mind again? After us waitin’ and wastin’
time for weeks! [_To_ CATES _in a loud tone so_ DREW _can hear_.] What
did I tell ye, Cates? He’s crazy as hell.

DREW--[_Sharply._] What’s that?

HORNE--I was tellin’ Cates the skipper’s not right in his head
[_Angrily._] What man in his senses’d do the way he does?

DREW--[_Letting his resentment escape him._] That’s no lie, damn it!

HORNE--[_Surprised._] Aye, ye’ve seen it, too, have ye? [_After a
pause._] Now I axe ye, as a sailor, how’d ye like to be puttin’ out on a
vige with a cracked man for skipper? [SUE _comes out of the door, stops
with a shudder of disgust as she sees the two sailors, and stands
listening. They do not notice her presence._]

DREW--It seems to me a crazy voyage all round. What kind of trading is
it you’re to do?

HORNE--[_Suspiciously._] Ye’ll have to ask the skipper that.

DREW--[_With a scornful shrug._] I was forgetting it’s such a dead
secret. That the craziest part, eh? [_With sudden interest as if a new
idea had come to him._] But you know all about it, don’t you--what the
Captain plans to do on this voyage--and all that?

HORNE--[_Dryly._] Aye, as well as himself--but I’m tellin’ no man.

DREW--And I’m not asking. What do you suppose I care about any sneaking
trade deal in the Islands he may have up his sleeve? What I want to find
out is: Do you know enough about this business to make this one voyage
alone and attend to everything--in case the Captain can’t go?

HORNE--[_Exchanging a quick glance with Cates--trying to hide his
eagerness._] Aye, I could do as well as any man alive. I’ve been sailin’
this sea for twenty year or more and I know the Island trade inside and
out. He could trust me for it--and I’d make more money for him than he’s
likely to make with his head out o’ gear. [_Then scowling._] On’y
trouble is, who’d Captain her if he ain’t goin’?

DREW--[_Disappointedly._] Then you don’t know navigation enough for
that?

HORNE--I’ve never riz above bo’sun. [_Then after a pause in which he
appears to be calculating something--curiously._] Why d’ye ask me them
questions? [_Insinuatingly--almost in a whisper._] It can’t be done
’less we got an officer like you aboard.

DREW--[_Angrily._] Eh? What’re you driving at? D’you think I--

SUE--[_Who has been listening with aroused interest._] Danny! [_She
comes down to him._ HORNE _and_ CATES _bob their heads respectfully and
move back near the platform_. HORNE _watches_ SUE _and_ DREW _out of the
corner of his eye_.] Danny, I’ve been listening to what you were saying,
but I don’t understand. What are you thinking of?

DREW [_Excitedly._] I was thinking--Listen, Sue! Seems to me from what I
saw your Pa’s out of his right mind, and, being that way, he’s sure
bound to go unless someone or something steps in to stop him. D’you
think your Ma----?

SUE--[_Shaking her head--sadly._] No, I’m afraid anything she says will
only make things worse.

DREW--Then you’ve no hope--? No more have I. Something’s got to be done
to keep him home in spite of himself. Even leaving your Ma out of it,
he’s not in any fit state to take a ship to sea; and I was thinking if
we could fix it some way so that fellow Horne could take her out on this
voyage--

SUE--But, Danny, Pa’d never give in to that.

DREW--I wasn’t thinking he would. It’d have to be done on the sly.
We--you’d have to give the word--and keep him in the house somehow--and
then when he did come out it’d be too late. The schooner’d be gone.

SUE--[_Disturbed, but showing that this plan has caught her mind._]
But--would it be fair?--he’d never forgive--

DREW--When he’s back in his right mind again, he would. [_Earnestly._]
I’m not fond of lying and tricks myself, Sue, but this is a case where
you can’t pick and choose. You can’t let him sail, and wreck his ship
and himself in the bargain, likely. Then, there’s your Ma----

SUE--No, no, we can’t let him. [_With a glance at_ HORNE _and_ CATES.]
But I don’t trust those men.

DREW--No more do I; but it would be better to chance them
than--[_Suddenly interrupting himself--with a shrug of his shoulders._]
But there’s no good talking of that. I was forgetting. None of them can
navigate. They couldn’t take her out.

SUE--But didn’t I hear him say--if they had an officer on board--like
you--

DREW--Yes, but where’ll you find one at a second’s notice?

SUE--[_Meaningly._] And you told me, didn’t you, that you’d just got
your master’s papers. Then you’re a captain by rights.

DREW--[_Looking at her with stunned astonishment._] Sue! D’you mean--

SUE--[_A light coming over her face._] Oh, Danny, we could trust you!
He’d trust you! And after he’d calmed down I know he wouldn’t mind so
much. Oh, Danny, it’ll break my heart to have you go, to send you away
just after you’ve come back. But I don’t see any other way. I wouldn’t
ask--if it wasn’t for Ma being, this way--and him--Oh, Danny, can’t you
see your way to do it--for my sake?

DREW--[_Bewilderedly._] Why, Sue, I--I never thought--[_Then as he sees
the look of disappointment which comes over her face at his
hesitancy--resolutely._] Why sure, Sue, I’ll do it--if you want me to.
I’ll do it if it can be done. But we’ve got to hustle. You stand in the
door, Sue. You’ve got to keep him in the house some way if he aims to
come out. And I’ll talk to them. [SUE _goes to the doorway_. DREW _goes
over to_ HORNE _and_ CATES.]

SUE--[_After listening._] He’s still in with Ma. It’s all right.

DREW--[_To_ HORNE, _with forced joviality_.] How would you like me for
skipper on this one voyage?

HORNE--[_Craftily._] Ye got your skipper’s papers all reg’lar?

DREW--Yes, that part of it’s all right and square. Listen here. Miss
Sue’s decided her father isn’t in a fit state to Captain this trip. It’d
mean danger for him and the schooner--and for you.

HORNE--That’s no lie.

CATES--[_To_ HORNE _protestingly_.] But if we git ketched the Old Man’ll
take it out o’ our hides, not his’n.

HORNE--[_Savagely._] Shut up, ye fool! [_To_ DREW, _craftily_.] Cates is
right, jest the same. Ye are as good as his married son and she’s his
daughter. He’d not blame you if things went wrong. He’d take it out on
us.

DREW--[_Impatiently._] I’ll shoulder all that risk, man!

SUE--[_Earnestly._] No harm will come to any of you, I promise you. This
is all my plan, and I’ll tell my father I’m alone to blame.

HORNE--[_In the tone of one clinching a bargain._] Then we’ll chance it.
[_Warningly._] But it’s got to be done smart, sir. Ye’d best look
lively.

DREW--I’ve got to get my dunnage. I’ll be right back and we’ll tumble
aboard. [_He goes to the door._] Hold him, Sue, on some excuse if he’s
coming. Only a second now and it’ll all be safe. [_He goes into the
house. She follows him in._]

CATES--[_With stupid anger._] This is a hell o’ a mess we’re gettin’ in,
if ye axe me.

HORNE--And I tell ye it’s a great stroke o’ luck. It couldn’t o’ come
out better.

CATES--He’ll be aboard to spy on us.

HORNE--Let him! What does he know? He thinks we’re goin’ tradin’, and
there’s no one to tell him diff’rent but me.

CATES--He’ll know better afore long. He’ll s’pect--

HORNE--’Bout the gold? He ain’t that kind. He’s a soft young swab o’ a
lady steamer’s mate. Leave me to fool him. And when the time comes to
git rid o’ him, I’ll find a means some way or other. But can’t ye see,
ye fool, it’s luck to have him with us till we git clear o’ civilized
ports? He kin navigate and he’s got skipper’s papers that’ll come in
handy if there’s any trouble. And if anythin’ goes wrong at the start
and we’re brung back, him and the girl’ll take the blame.

CATES--[_Stupidly._] S’long as he don’t git no share o’ the gold----

HORNE--[_Contemptuously._] Share, ye dumbhead! I’d see him in hell
first--and send him there myself. [DREW _comes out of the house carrying
his bag which he hands to_ CATES. SUE _follows him_.]

DREW--Look lively now! Let’s hustle aboard and get her under way.

HORNE--Aye--aye, sir. [_He and_ CATES _clamber hurriedly down the
ladder_.]

SUE--[_Throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him._] Good-bye,
Danny. It’s so fine of you to do this for us! I’ll never forget----

DREW--[_Tenderly._] Ssssh! It’s nothing, Sue.

SUE--[_Tearfully._] Oh, Danny, I hope I’m doing right! I’ll miss you so
dreadfully! But you’ll come back just as soon as you can--

DREW--Of course!

SUE--Danny! Danny! I love you so!

DREW--And I guess you know I love you, don’t you? [_Kisses her._] And
we’ll be married when I come back this time _sure_?

SUE--Yes--yes--Danny--sure!

DREW--I’ve got to run. Good-bye, Sue.

SUE--Good-bye, dear. [_They kiss for the last time and he disappears
down the ladder. She stands at the top, sobbing, following him with her
eyes._ NAT _comes around the house from the rear and goes to the front
door_.]

NAT--[_Seeing his sister._] Sue! He hasn’t gone yet, has he? [_She
doesn’t hear him. He hesitates in the doorway for a moment, listening
for the sound of his father’s voice from inside. Then, very careful to
make no noise, he tiptoes carefully into the house._ SUE _waves her hand
to_ DREW _who has evidently now got aboard the ship. Then she covers her
face with her hands, sobbing_. NAT _comes out of the house again and
goes to his sister. As she sees him approaching, she dries her eyes
hastily, trying to smile._]

SUE--Did you get the doctor, Nat?

NAT--Yes, he’s coming right away, he promised. [_Looking at her face._]
What--have you been crying?

SUE--No. [_She walks away from the edge of the cliff, drawing him with
her._]

NAT--Yes, you have. Look at your eyes.

SUE--Oh, Nat, everything’s so awful! [_She breaks down again._]

NAT--[_Trying to comfort her in an absentminded way._] There, don’t get
worked up. Ma’ll be all right as soon as the doctor comes. [_Then
curiously._] Pa’s inside with her. They were arguing--have they made it
up, d’you think?

SUE--Oh, Nat, I don’t know. I don’t think so.

NAT--The strain’s been too much for him--waiting and hiding his secret
from all of us. What do you suppose it is, Sue--ambergris?

SUE--[_Wildly._] I don’t know and I don’t care! [_Noticing the strange
preoccupied look in his eyes--trying to bring him back to
earth--scornfully._] Ambergris! Are you going crazy? Don’t you remember
you’ve always been the first one to laugh at that silly idea?

NAT--Well, there’s something---- [_Starts for the platform._ SUE _does
her best to interpose to hold him back_.] Are they all ready on the
schooner. He’ll have to hurry if she’s going to sail on this tide.
[_With sudden passion._] Oh, I’ve got to go! I can’t stay here!
[_Pleadingly._] Don’t you think, Sue, if you were to ask him for me
he’d--You’re the only one he seems to act sane with or care about any
more.

SUE--No! I won’t! I can’t!

NAT--[_Angrily._] Haven’t you any sense? Wouldn’t it be better for
everyone if I went in his place?

SUE--No. You know that’s a lie. Ma would lose her mind if you went.

NAT--And I’ll lose mine if I stay! [_Half aware of_ SUE’S _intention to
keep him from looking down at the schooner--irritably_.] What are you
holding my arm for, Sue? I want to see what they’re doing. [_He pushes
her aside and goes to the platform--excitedly._] Hello, they’ve got the
fores’l and mains’l set. They’re setting the stays’l. [_In amazement._]
Why--they’re casting off! She’s moving away from the wharf! [_More and
more excitedly._] I see four of them on board! Who--who is that, Sue?

SUE--It’s Danny.

NAT--[_Furiously._] Danny! What right has he--when I can’t! Sue, call
Pa! They’re sailing, I tell you, you little fool!

SUE--[_Trying to calm him--her voice trembling._] Nat! Don’t be such a
donkey! Danny’s only going a little way--just trying the boat to see how
she sails while they’re waiting for Pa.

NAT--[_Uncertainly._] Oh. [_Then bitterly._] I was never allowed to do
even that--his own son! Look, Sue, that must be Danny at the stern
waving.

SUE--[_Brokenly._] Yes. [_She waves her handkerchief over her head--then
breaks down, sobbing again. There is the noise of_ BARTLETT’S _voice
from inside and a moment later he appears in the doorway. He seems
terribly shattered, at the end of his tether. He hesitates uncertainly,
looking about him wildly as if he didn’t know what to do or where to
go._]

SUE--[_After one look at his face, runs to him and flings her arms about
his neck._] Pa! [_She weeps on his shoulder._]

BARTLETT--Sue, ye did wrong beggin’ me to see her. I knowed it’d do no
good. Ye promised she’d not hound me----“Confess,” she says--when they
be naught to tell that couldn’t be swore to in any court. “Don’t go on
this vige,” she says, “there be the curse o’ God on it.” [_With a note
of baffled anguish._] She kin say that after givin’ the ship her own
name! [_With wild, haggard defiance._] But curse or no curse, I be
goin’! [_He moves toward the platform_, SUE _clinging to his arm_.]

SUE--[_Frightenedly._] Pa! Go back in the house, won’t you?

BARTLETT--I be sorry to go agin your will, Sue, but it’s got to be.
Ye’ll know the reason some day--and be glad o’ it. And now good-bye to
ye. [_With a sudden strange tenderness he bends and kisses his daughter.
Then as she seems about to protest further, his expression becomes stern
and inflexible._] No more o’ talk, Sue! I be bound out. [_He takes her
hand off his arm and strides to the platform. One look down at the
harbor and he stands transfixed--in a hoarse whisper._] What damned
trick be this? [_He points to the schooner and turns to_ NAT
_bewilderedly_.] Ain’t that my schooner, boy--the Sarah Allen--reachin’
toward the p’int?

NAT--[_Surprised._] Yes, certainly. Didn’t you know? Danny’s trying her
to see how she sails while they’re waiting for you.

BARTLETT--[_With a tremendous sigh of relief._] Aye. [_Then angrily._]
He takes a lot o’ rope to himself without askin’ leave o’ me. Don’t he
know they’s no time to waste on boy’s foolin’? [_Then with admiration._]
She sails smart, don’t she, boy? I knowed she’d show a pair o’ heels.

NAT--[_With enthusiasm._] Yes, she’s a daisy! Say, Danny’s taking her
pretty far out, isn’t he?

BARTLETT--[_Anxiously._] He’d ought to come about now if he’s to tack
back inside the p’int. [_Furiously._] Come about, damn ye! The swab!
That’s what comes o’ steamer trainin’. I’d sooner trust Sue to sail her
nor him. [_Waves his arm and shouts._] Come about!

NAT--[_Bitterly._] He seems to be heading straight for the open sea.
He’s taking quite a sail, it seems to me.

BARTLETT--[_As if he couldn’t believe his eyes._] He’s passed the
p’int--and now--headin’ her out to sea--so’east by east. By God, that be
the course I charted for her! [SUE _bursts out sobbing. He wheels on
her, his mouth fallen open, his face full of a stupid despair._] They be
somethin’ wrong here. What be it, Sue? What be it, Nat? [_His voice has
begun to quiver with passion._] That schooner--she’s sailin’ without
me---- [_He suddenly springs at_ NAT _and grabs him by the throat--with
hoarse fury, shaking him_.] What be it, ye whelp? It’s your
doin’--because I wouldn’t let ye go. Answer me!

SUE--[_Rushing to them with a scream._] Pa! [_She tugs frantically at
his hands._ BARTLETT _lets them fall to his side, stepping back from_
NAT _who sinks weakly to the ground, gasping for breath_. BARTLETT
_stands looking at him wildly_.]

SUE--Nat didn’t know, Pa. It’s all my fault. I had to do it. There was
no other way----

BARTLETT--[_Raging._] What d’ye mean, girl? What is it ye’ve done? Tell
me, I say! Tell me or I’ll----

SUE--[_Unflinchingly._] You had to be stopped from going someway. You
wouldn’t listen to reason. So I asked Danny if he wouldn’t make the trip
in your place. He’s just got his captain’s papers--and oh, Pa, you can
trust him, you know that! That man Horne said he knows about everything
you wanted done, and he promised to tell Danny, and Danny’ll come
back----

BARTLETT--[_Chokingly._] So--that be it---- [_Shaking his clenched fist
at the sky as if visualizing the fate he feels in all of this._] Curse
ye! Curse ye! [_He subsides weakly, his strength spent, his hand falls
limply at his side._]

MRS. BARTLETT--[_Appears in the doorway. Her face is pale with anguish.
She gives a cry of joy when she sees her son._] Nat! [_Then with a start
of horror at her eyes fall on her husband._] Isaiah! [_He doesn’t seem
to hear._] Then--you ain’t sailed yet?

SUE--[_Going to her--gently._] No, Ma, he isn’t going to sail. He’s
going to stay home with you. But the schooner’s gone. See. [_She points
and her mother’s eyes turn seaward._]

BARTLETT--[_Aloud to himself--in a tone of groping superstitious awe and
bewildered fear._] They be somethin’ queer--somethin’ wrong--they be a
curse in this somewhere----

MRS. BARTLETT--[_Turning accusing eyes on him--with a sort of fanatical
triumph._] I’m glad to hear you confess that, Isaiah. Yes, there be a
curse--God’s curse on the wicked sinfulness o’ men--and I thank God He’s
saved you from the evil of that voyage, and I’ll pray Him to visit His
punishment and His curse on them three men on that craft you forced me
to give my name---- [_She has raised her hand as if calling down
retribution on the schooner she can dimly see._]

SUE--[_Terrified._] Ma!

BARTLETT--[_Starting toward his wife with an insane yell of fury._] Stop
it, I tell ye! [_He towers over her with upraised fist as if to crush
her._]

SUE--Pa!

NAT--[_Starting to his feet from where he has been sitting on the
ground--hoarsely._] Pa! For God’s sake!

MRS. BARTLETT--[_Gives a weak, frightened gasp._] Would you murder me
too, Isaiah? [_She closes her eyes and collapses in_ SUE’S _arms_.]

SUE--[_Tremblingly._] Nat! Help me! Quick! We must carry her to bed.
[_They take their mother in their arms, carrying her inside the house._]

BARTLETT--[_While they are doing this, rushes in his mad frenzy to the
platform over the edge of the cliff. He puts his hands to his mouth,
megaphone-fashion, and yells with despairing rage._] Ahoy! Ahoy! Sarah
Allen! Put back! Put back! [_as_


[_The Curtain Falls_]



ACT FOUR


     SCENE--_About nine o’clock of a moonlight night one year
     later_--CAPTAIN BARTLETT’S _“cabin,” a room erected on the top of
     his house as a lookout post. The interior is fitted up like the
     cabin of a sailing vessel. On the left, forward, a porthole.
     Farther back, the stairs of the companionway. Still farther, two
     more portholes. In the rear, left, a marble-topped sideboard. In
     the rear, center, a door opening on stairs which lead to the lower
     house. A cot with a blanket is placed against the wall to the right
     of door. In the right wall, five portholes. Directly under them, a
     wooden bench. In front of the bench, a long table with two chairs
     placed, one in front, one to the left of it. A cheap, dark-colored
     rug is on the floor. In the ceiling, midway from front to rear, a
     skylight extending from opposite the door to above the left edge of
     the table. In the right extremity of the skylight is placed a
     floating ship’s compass. The light from the binnacle sheds down
     over this and seeps into the room, casting a vague globular shadow
     of the compass on the floor. Moonlight creeps in through the
     portholes on the right. A lighted lantern is on the table._

     _As the curtain rises_, SUE _and_ DOCTOR BERRY _are discovered
     sitting by the table. The doctor is a man of sixty or so, hale and
     hearty-looking, his white hair and mustache setting off his ruddy
     completion. His blue eyes have a gentle expression, his smile is
     kindly and sympathetic. His whole manner toward_ SUE _is that of
     the old family doctor and friend, not the least of whose duties is
     to play father-confessor to his patients. She is dressed in deep
     mourning. She looks much older. Her face is pale and plainly marked
     by the ravages of suffering and grief. But there is an excited
     elation in her face at present, her eyes are alight with some
     unexpected joy._

SUE--[_Excitedly._] And here is Danny’s letter, Doctor--to prove it’s
all true. [_She takes a letter from the bosom of her dress and holds it
out to him._]

DOCTOR--[_Takes it with a smile, patting her hand._] I can’t say how
glad I am, Susan. Coming after we’d all given him up for lost--it’s like
a miracle. Eh, well, I can hardly believe----

SUE--[_Smiling happily._] Read what he says. Then you won’t doubt.

DOCTOR--[_Hesitating--playfully._] I don’t know that it’s right for
me--love letters at my age!

SUE--Go ahead. I want you to read it. [_He reaches in his pocket for his
spectacles._ SUE _continues gratefully_.] As if I could have any secrets
from you after all you’ve done for us since Ma died. You’ve been the
only friend---- [_She stops, her lips trembling._]

DOCTOR--Tut-tut. [_He adjusts his spectacles and peers at her over
them._] Who wouldn’t be of all the service he could to a brave girl like
you--and I who’ve known you since you were so high! Eh, well, my dear
girl, this past year--with your mother’s death--the state your father’s
in--and then the news of the schooner being reported lost--one damn
thing on top of another! You’ve borne the whole brunt of it on your
shoulders and stood up like a major. I’ll tell Danny when he comes he
ought to get down on his knees and thank God for getting such a wife!

SUE--[_Flushing._] You’re too good. I don’t deserve it. It was just a
case where someone had to carry things on.

DOCTOR--Not many could have stood it--living in this house with him the
way he is--even if he was their father.

SUE--[_Glancing up at the skylight--apprehensively._] Ssshh! He might
hear you.

DOCTOR--[_Listening intently._] Not him. There he goes pacing up and
down up there in the night, looking out to sea for that ship that will
never come back! And your brother Nat is getting just as bad. [_Shaking
himself._] Brrr! This house of mad dreams! It’s the crowning wonder to
me you haven’t lost your balance too--spending nearly all of your time
in this crazy cabin--afraid to go out--afraid of what he might do----

SUE--Don’t you think Pa’ll come to realize the schooner is lost as time
goes by and she doesn’t come back?

DOCTOR--If he was going to realize that, the report of the facts five
months ago would have convinced him. There it was, plain as the nose on
your face. British freighter reports finding derelict schooner. Steams
near enough to read the name on the stern--Sarah Allen, Harborport.
Well, who could get around that evidence except a man with an obsession?
No, your father won’t let himself look the facts in the face. If he did,
probably the shock of it would kill him. That darn dream of his has
become his life. No, Susan, as time goes on he’ll believe in it harder
and harder. After observing him for the past year--and I speak for his
own sake, too, as his good friend for twenty years or more--my final
advice is the same: Send him to an asylum.

SUE--[_With a shudder._] No, Doctor.

DOCTOR--[_Shaking his head._] You’ll have to come to it in time. He’s
getting worse. No one can tell--he might get violent----

SUE--How can you say that? You know how gentle and sane he is with
me--just like he used to be in the old days.

DOCTOR--You’re his last connecting link with things as they are--but
that can’t last. On the other hand, I think that if we got him away from
the sea, from this house, especially from this crazy cabin and the
ship’s deck he had built up there--[_He nods upward._]--that perhaps----

SUE--[_With conviction._] No. It would kill him to leave it.

DOCTOR--Eh, well, my dear, one thing you’ve got to realize: Your father
and Nat must be separated somehow. Nat’s going to pieces. He’s lost his
job, he moons about this house, he takes no interest in anything but
this craziness. I’ll bet he doesn’t believe that schooner is lost any
more than your father does.

SUE--You mean he still hopes it may not be true. That’s only natural.
He’s in San Francisco now tracing down the report again. He saw in the
papers where the British freighter that found the derelict was in port
again and he went to talk with the people on board. I’m hoping he’ll
come back fully convinced, with the whole thing out of his mind.

DOCTOR--[_Shaking his head--gravely._] I’ve watched him and talked with
him---- Why, even your father seems to realize, in his twisted way, that
he has a bad effect on Nat.

SUE--Yes, as I’ve told you before, he hasn’t spoken to Nat alone since
the schooner sailed a year ago. And Nat sneaks about trying to spy on
him--and I have to be always on the watch to keep them apart---- It’s
terrible.

DOCTOR--You’ve got to persuade Nat to go away, Susan.

SUE--He won’t heed me--but I was thinking that now Danny is coming back,
I’d get him----

DOCTOR--There’s another thing. You can’t continue to play slave to these
two after you’re married.

SUE--[_Miserably._] We’ll have to wait a while longer----

DOCTOR--[_Roughly._] Rats! You can’t sacrifice any more of your life and
Danny’s to mad dreams.

SUE--[_Helplessly._] I don’t know---- [_Then brightening._] That’ll all
be decided when the time comes. Just now it’s enough to know Danny’s
alive and coming back. Read his letter, Doctor. You’ve been holding it
in your hand all this time.

DOCTOR--Yes, yes, let’s see. [_He takes the letter from the envelope._]

SUE--Poor Danny! He’s been through terrible things.

DOCTOR--Hmm! Rangoon.

SUE--Yes, he’s still in the hospital there. You’ll see.

DOCTOR--[_Reads the letter--grunts with astonishment--angrily._] By
Gad! The damn scoundrels!

SUE--[_Shuddering._] Yes, wasn’t it hideous--those awful men stabbing
him and leaving him for dead in that out of the way native settlement!
The natives nursed him back to life, have you got that far yet? And then
he was laid up for four months there waiting for a vessel to touch and
take him back to civilization. And then, think of it, getting the fever
on top of all that and nearly dying in the hospital in Rangoon!

DOCTOR--A terrible time of it! He’s lucky to be alive. Hmm. I see he
foresaw the wreck of the schooner. Those brutes couldn’t navigate.
[_Folding the letter and putting it back._] He doesn’t seem to have
found out what the purpose of that mad trip was. Horne hid it from him
to the last, he says. Well, it’s queer--damn queer. But I’m glad to know
those wretches have gone to their final accounting.

SUE--[_With a shudder._] I was always afraid of them. They looked
like--murderers. [_At a noise from below they both start. Steps can be
heard climbing the stairs._ SUE _jumps to her feet frightenedly_.]
Why--do you hear--who can that be? [_There is a soft rap on the door.
The Doctor jumps to his feet._ SUE _turns to him with a half-hysterical
laugh_.] Shall I open? I don’t know why--but I’m afraid.

DOCTOR--Tut-tut! I’ll see who it is. [_He opens the door and_ NAT _is
discovered on the stairs outside_.] Why hello, boy. You gave us a
scare. Susan thought it was a ghost knocking.

NAT--[_Comes into the room. He has aged, grown thin, his face gaunt and
drawn from continual mental strain, his eyes moody and preoccupied. He
glances up at the skylight apprehensively, then turns to_ SUE.] I didn’t
find you downstairs so I---- [_Then to the Doctor._] Yes, you do grow to
look for ghosts in this house, don’t you? [_Again glancing upward._]
He’s up there as usual, I suppose--looking for a ship that’ll _never,
never come now_!

DOCTOR--[_With a grunt of approval._] I’m glad to hear you acknowledge
that.

SUE--[_Who is just recovering from her fright._] But, Nat, I didn’t
expect you---- Did you find out----?

NAT--Yes, I talked with several of the men who were on board at the
time. They said they steamed in so close to the schooner it was easy to
read the name with the naked eye. All agreed--Sarah Allen, Harborport.
They even remembered how her tafrail was painted. There’s no chance for
mistake. The Sarah Allen is gone. [_With great emphasis._] And I’m
glad--damn glad! I feel as if a weight of lead had been taken off my
brain. I feel free again, and I can go back to work--but not here. I’ve
got to go away--start new altogether.

SUE--[_Happily, coming and putting her arms around him._] It’s so good
to hear you talk like your old self again.

DOCTOR--[_Earnestly._] Yes, Nat, by Gad, that’s sound sense. Get out of
this.

NAT--[_Giving him a queer look._] I suppose you thought I was doomed,
eh?--like him. [_He makes a motion upward--then with an uncertain
laugh._] A doctor’s always looking for trouble where there isn’t any.
[_In a tone of finality._] Well, it’s all over, anyway.

SUE--[_Snatching the letter from the table._] Oh, I was forgetting, Nat.
Read this. I got it yesterday.

NAT--[_Turns it over in his hands suspiciously._] Who from?

SUE--Open it and see.

NAT--[_Does so and turns over the pages to read the signature--he gives
a start--hoarsely._] Danny! It can’t be! But it’s his writing sure
enough! [_He exclaims with a sudden wild exultation._] Then they must
have been lying to me!

SUE--No, the Sarah Allen was wrecked all right, but that was afterwards.
He wasn’t on board then. Read it. You’ll see. [NAT _sinks back on a
chair, evidently depressed by this information. He starts to read the
letter with unconcealed indifference, then becomes engrossed, excited,
the paper trembling in his hands. The Doctor shakes his head at_ SUE
_indicating his disapproval of her giving him the letter_. NAT
_finishes and springs to his feet--angrily_.]

NAT--The stupid fool! He let Horne pull the wool over his eyes in fine
shape. He deserved all he got for being so dumb!

SUE--[_Indignantly._] Nat!

NAT--[_Unheedingly._] Oh, if I could only have gone in his place! I knew
the kind Horne was. He couldn’t have played that trick on me. I’d have
forced the secret out of him if I had to---- [_He raises his clenched
fist in a gesture of threat like his father’s--then lets it fall and
sits down again--disgustedly._] But what’s the use? And what’s the use
of this? [_Tosses the letter contemptuously on the table._] He might
just as well not have written. We’re no wiser than we were before.

SUE--[_Snatching up the letter--deeply hurt._] Aren’t you even glad to
hear Danny’s alive?

NAT--[_Turning to her at once--with remorseful confusion._] Yes--yes--of
course, Sue--I don’t have to say that, do I? What I mean is, he never
found out from Horne--and we’re no wiser.

DOCTOR--[_Briskly--with a significant glance at_ SUE.] Well,
Susan--Nat--I’ve got to run along--[_Meaningly._] I’ll be over again
tomorrow, Susan.

SUE--Yes, do come. [_Goes with him to the door._] Can you see your way?

DOCTOR--Yes. Good night.

SUE--Good night. [_She closes the door and comes back to_ NAT. _The
Doctor’s footsteps die out._]

NAT--[_Savagely._] That damned old fool! What is he doing, sneaking
around here all the time? I’ve grown to hate the sight of him.

SUE--Nat! You can’t mean that. Think of how kind he’s been.

NAT--Yes--kindness with a purpose.

SUE--Don’t be silly. What purpose could he have except wanting to help
us?

NAT--To find out things, of course, you simpleton. To pump Pa when he’s
not responsible for what he’s saying.

SUE--[_Indignantly._] Nat!

NAT--Much good it’s done him! I know Pa. Sane or not, he won’t tell
_that_ to anyone--not even you or me, Sue. [_With sudden fury._] I’m
going away--but before I go I’m going to make him tell me! He won’t
refuse this time when he knows I’m leaving for good. He’ll be glad then.
He’s been so afraid I’d find out, so scared to speak to me even--locking
himself up here. But I’ll make him tell--yes, I will!

SUE--Careful, Nat. He’ll hear you if you shout like that.

NAT--But we have a right to know--his own children. What if he dies
without ever speaking?

SUE--[_Uneasily._] Be sensible, Nat. There’s nothing to tell except in
your imagination. [_Taking his arm--persuasively._] Come on downstairs.
I’ll get you something to eat. You must be starved, aren’t you?

NAT--No--I don’t know--I suppose I ought to be. [_He gets to his feet
and glances around with a shudder._] What a place for him to build to
wait in--like the cabin of a ship sunk deep under the sea--like the
Sarah Allen’s cabin as it is now, probably. [_With a shiver._] There’s a
chill comes over you. No wonder he’s mad. [_He listens._] Hear him. A
year ago today she sailed. I wonder if he knows that. Back and forth,
always staring out to sea for the Sarah Allen. Ha-ha! God! It would be
funny if it didn’t make your flesh creep. [_Brusquely._] Come on. Let’s
leave him and go down where there’s light and warmth. [_They go down the
stairs, closing the door behind them. There is a pause. Then the door of
the companionway above is heard being opened and shut. A gust of wind
sweeps down into the room._ BARTLETT _stamps down the stairs. The
madness which has taken almost complete possession of him in the past
year is clearly stamped on his face, particularly in his eyes which seem
to stare through and beyond objects with a hunted, haunted expression.
His movements suggest an automaton obeying invisible wires. They are
quick, jerky, spasmodic. He appears to be laboring under a state of
extraordinary excitement. He stands for a second at the foot of the
stairs, peering about him suspiciously. Then he goes to the table and
sits down on the edge of a chair, his chin supported on his hands._]

BARTLETT--[_Takes a folded piece of paper from his pocket and spreads it
out on the table in the light of the lantern--pointing with his
finger--mumblingly._] Where the cross be--ye’ll not forget that, Silas
Horne. Ye had a copy o’ this--no chance for a mistake, bullies--the
gold’s there, restin’ safe--back to me and we’ll share it fair and
square. A year ago today--ye remember the orders I wrote ye, Horne.
[_Threateningly._] Ye’ll not be gone more nor a year or I’ll--and if ye
make port to home here at night, hang a red and a green light at the
mainm’st head so I’ll see ye comin.’ A red and a green---- [_He
springs up suddenly and goes to a porthole to look out at the
sea--disappointedly._] No light be there--but they’ll come. The year be
up today and ye’ve got to come or I’ll---- [_He sinks back on the chair,
his head in his hands. Suddenly he starts and stares straight in front
of him as if he saw something in the air--with angry defiance._] Aye,
there ye be again--the two o’ ye! Makin’ a mock o’ me! Brass and junk,
ye say, not worth a damn! Ye don’t believe, do ye? I’ll show ye! [_He
springs to his feet and makes a motion as if grabbing someone by the
throat and shaking them--savagely._] Ye lie! Is it gold or no? Answer
me! [_With a mocking laugh._] Aye, ye own up to it now, right enough.
Too late, ye swabs! No share for ye! [_He sinks back on the chair
again--after a pause, dully._] Jimmy’s gone. Let them rot. But I spoke
no word, Silas Horne, remember! [_Then in a tone of fear._] Be ye dyin’,
Sarah? No, ye must live--live to see your ship come home with the
gold--and I’ll buy ye all in the world ye set your heart on. No, not
ambergris, Sarah--gold and diamonds and sech! We’re rich at last! [_Then
with great anguish._] What woman’s stubborn talk be this? Confess, ye
say? But I spoke no word, I swear to ye! Why will ye hound me and think
evil o’ what I done? Men’s business, I tell ye. They would have killed
us and stolen the gold, can’t ye see? [_Wildly._] Enough o’ talk, Sarah!
I’ll sail out in spite o’ ye! [_He gets to his feet and paces up and
down the room. The door in the rear is opened and_ NAT _re-enters. He
glances at his father, then looks down the stairs behind him cautiously
to see if he is followed. He comes in and closes the door behind him
carefully._]

NAT--[_In a low voice._] Pa! [_Then as his father does not appear to
notice his presence--louder._] Pa!

BARTLETT--[_Stops short and stares at his son as if he were gradually
awakening from a dream--slowly._] Be that ye, Nat?

NAT--[_Coming forward._] Yes. I want to talk with you.

BARTLETT--[_Struggling to bring his thoughts under control._] Talk? Ye
want to talk--to me? Men’s business--no room for a boy in it--keep clear
o’ this.

NAT--[_Defiantly._] That’s what you’ve always said. But I won’t be put
off any longer. I won’t, do you hear?

BARTLETT--[_Angrily._] I’ve ordered ye not to set foot in this cabin o’
mine. Git below where ye belong. Where’s Sue? I told her to keep ye
away.

NAT--She can’t prevent me this time. I’ve made up my mind. Listen, Pa.
I’m going away tomorrow.

BARTLETT--[_Uncertainly._] Goin’ away?

NAT--Yes, and I’m never coming back. I’m going to start a new life.
That’s why I want a final talk with you--before I go.

BARTLETT--[_Dully._] I’ve naught to say to ye.

NAT--You will have. Listen. I’ve absolute proof the Sarah Allen is lost.

BARTLETT--[_Fiercely._] Ye lie!

NAT--[_Curiously._] Why do you say that? You know it’s true. It’s just
that you _won’t believe_.

BARTLETT--[_Wanderingly--the word heading his mind into another
channel._] Believe? Aye, he wouldn’t believe. Brass and junk, he said,
not worth a damn--but in the end I made him own up ’twas gold.

NAT--[_Repeating the word fascinatedly._] Gold?

BARTLETT--A year ago today she sailed. Ye lie! Ye don’t believe either,
do ye?--like him. But I’ll show ye! I’ll make ye own up as I made him!
[_With mad exultation._] She’s comin’ home tonight as I ordered Horne
she must! I kin feel her makin’ for home, I tell ye! A red an’ a green
at the mainm’sthead if ye make port o’ night, I ordered Horne. Ye’ll
see! [_He goes to look out of a porthole._ NAT, _as if under a spell,
goes to another_.]

NAT--[_Turning away disappointedly--making an effort to throw off his
thoughts--without conviction._] Nonsense. There’s nothing there--no
lights--and I don’t believe there ever will be.

BARTLETT--[_His wild eyes fixed on his son’s with an intense effort of
will as if he were trying to break down his resistance._] Ye’ll see, I
tell ye--a red and a green! It ain’t time yet, boy, but when it be
they’ll be plain in the night afore your eyes. [_He goes and sits down
by the table._ NAT _follows him and sits down in the other chair. He
sees the map and stares at it fascinatedly._]

NAT--What is this--the map of the island? [_He reaches out his hand for
it._]

BARTLETT--[_Snatching it up--with a momentary return to
reason--frightenedly._] Not for ye, boy. Keep clear o’ this for your own
good. [_Then with a crazed triumph._] Aye! Ye’d believe this soon
enough, wouldn’t ye?

NAT--[_Intensely._] I’ve always believed there was something--and a
moment ago you mentioned gold. [_Triumphant in his turn._] So you
needn’t try to hide the secret any longer. I know now. It’s gold--gold
you found on that island--gold you fitted out the Sarah Allen to sail
back for--gold you buried where I saw that cross marked on the map!
[_Passionately._] Why have you been afraid to confide in me, your own
son? Why didn’t you let me sail back in your place? Were you afraid I’d
give the secret away? Did you think I wouldn’t believe----?

BARTLETT--[_With a mad chuckle._] Aye, ye believe now, right enough.

NAT--I always believed, I tell you. [_Pleadingly._] And now that I know
so much why can’t you tell me the rest? I must know! I have a right to
be heir to the secret. Why don’t you confess----

BARTLETT--[_Interrupting--his brain catching at the word._] Confess?
Confess, did ye say, Sarah? To Nat, did ye mean? Aye, Sarah, I’ll tell
him all and leave it to him to say if I did wrong. [_His gleaming eyes
fixed on his son’s._] I’ll tell ye, boy, from start to finish o’ it. I
been eatin’ my heart to tell someone--someone who’d believe--someone
that’d say I did no wrong. Listen, boy, ye know o’ our four days in an
open boat after the Triton went down. I told ye o’ that when I come
home. But what I didn’t tell ye was they was six o’ us in that boat, not
four.

NAT--Six? There were you and Horne and Cates and Jimmy----

BARTLETT--The cook o’ the Triton and the ship’s boy. We’d been on the
island two days--an island barren as hell, mind--without food or drink.
We was roasted by the sun and nigh mad with thirst. Then, on the second
day, I seed a Malay canoe--a proper war canoe such as the pirates
use--sunk down inside the reef. I sent Jimmy down to go over her
thinkin’ they might be some cask o’ water in her the sea’d not got to.
[_With impressive emphasis._] He found no water, boy, but he did
find--d’ye know what, boy?

NAT--[_Exultantly._] The gold, of course!

BARTLETT--[_Laughing harshly._] Ha-ha! Ye do believe right enough, don’t
ye! Aye, the gold--in a chest. We hauled her up ashore and forced the
lid open. [_Gloatingly._] And there it was afore our eyes in the
sun--gold bracelets and rings and ornaments o’ all sorts fixed up fancy
with diamonds and emeralds and rubies and sech--red and green--shinin’
in the sun! [_He stops impressively._]

NAT--[_Fascinatedly._] Diamonds and---- But how did they get there?

BARTLETT--Looted treasure o’ some Chinese junk, likely. What matter how
it come about? There it was afore our eyes. And then, mind ye, that
thief o’ a cook came runnin’ up from where he’d been shirkin’ to look at
what we’d found. “No share for ye, ye swab,” I yelled at him; and then
he says: “It ain’t gold--brass and junk,” he says and run off for fear
o’ me. Aye, he run off to the boy and told him to jine with his sneakin’
plan to steal the gold from us!

NAT--[_Savagely._] But why didn’t you stop him? Why didn’t you----?

BARTLETT--I be comin’ to that, boy, and ye’ll see if I did wrong. We
carried the chest to the shade o’ a palm and there was that thief o’ a
cook an’ the boy waitin’. I collared ’em both and made ’em look at the
gold. “Look and tell me if it’s gold or no,” I says. [_Triumphantly._]
They was afeerd to lie. Even that thief o’ a cook owned up ’twas gold.
Then when I turned ’em loose, because he knowed he’d git no share, he
shouted again: “Brass and junk. Not worth a damn.”

NAT--[_Furiously._] But why did you allow---- Why didn’t you----

BARTLETT--[_With mad satisfaction._] Aye, ye be seein’ the way o’ it,
boy. It was just then we sighted the schooner that picked us up after.
We made a map and was burryin’ the gold when we noticed them two thieves
sneakin’ about to see where we’d hide it. I saw ’em plain, the scum!
That thief o’ a cook was thinkin’ he’d tell the folks on the schooner
and go shares with them--and leave us on the island to rot; or he was
thinkin’ he and the boy’d be able to come back and dig it up afore I
could. We had to do somethin’ quick to spile their plan afore the
schooner come. [_In a tone of savage satisfaction._] And so--though I
spoke no word to him--Jimmy knifed ’em both and covered ’em up with
sand. But I spoke no word, d’ye hear? Their deaths be on Jimmy’s head
alone.

NAT--[_Passionately._] And what if you had? They deserved what they got.

BARTLETT--Then ye think I did no wrong?

NAT--No! Any man--I’d have done the same myself.

BARTLETT--[_Gripping his son’s hand tensely._] Ye be true son o’ mine,
Nat. I ought to told ye before. [_Exultantly._] Ye hear, Sarah? Nat says
I done no wrong.

NAT--The map! Can I see it?

BARTLETT--Aye. [_He hands it to_ NAT _who spreads it out on the table
and pores over it_.]

NAT--[_Excitedly._] Why, with this I--we--can go back--even if the Sarah
Allen is lost.

BARTLETT--She ain’t lost, boy--not her. Don’t heed them lies ye been
hearin’. She’s due now. I’ll go up and look. [_He goes up the
companionway stairs._ NAT _does not seem to notice his going, absorbed
in the map. Then there is a loud muffled hail in_ BARTLETT’S _voice_.]
“Sarah Allen, ahoy!” [NAT _starts, transfixed--then rushes to one of the
portholes to look. He turns back, passing his hand over his eyes,
frowning bewilderedly. The door above is flung open and slammed shut
and_ BARTLETT _stamps down the stairs_.]

BARTLETT--[_Fixing_ NAT _hypnotically with his eyes--triumphantly_.]
What did I tell ye? D’ye believe now she’ll come back? D’ye credit your
own eyes?

NAT--[_Vaguely._] Eyes? I looked. I didn’t see----

BARTLETT--Ye lie! The Sarah Allen, ye blind fool, come back from the
Southern Seas as I swore she must! Loaded with gold as I swore she would
be!--makin’ port!--droppin’ her anchor just when I hailed her.

NAT--[_Feebly, his will crumbling._] But--how do you know?--some other
schooner----

BARTLETT--Not know my own ship--and the signal I’d ordered Horne to
make!

NAT--[_Mechanically._] I know--a red and a green at the mainm’sthead.

BARTLETT--Then look out if ye dare! [_He goes to a porthole._] Ye kin
see it plain from here. [_Commandingly._] Will ye believe your eyes?
Look! [NAT _comes to him slowly--looks through the porthole--and starts
back, a possessed expression coming over his face_.]

NAT--[_Slowly._] A red and a green--clear as day!

BARTLETT--[_His face is now transfigured by the ecstasy of a dream come
true._] They’ve lowered a boat--the three--Horne an’ Cates and Jimmy
Kanaka. They’re rowin’ ashore. Listen. I hear the oars in the locks.
Listen!

NAT--[_Staring into his father’s eyes--after a pause during which he
appears to be straining his hearing to the breaking point--excitedly._]
I hear!

BARTLETT--Listen! They’ve landed. They’ll be comin’ up the path now.
[_In a crooning, monotonous tone._] They move slowly--slowly. It be
heavy, I know--that chest. [_After a pause._] Hark! They’re below at the
door in front.

NAT--I hear!

BARTLETT--Ye’ll see it now in a moment, boy--the gold. Up with it,
bullies! Up ye come! Up, bullies! It’s heavy, heavy!

NAT--[_Madly._] I hear them! They’re on the floor below! They’re coming!
I’ll open the door. [_He springs to the door and flings it open,
shouting._] Welcome home, boys! [SUE _is discovered outside just
climbing up the stairs from below. She steps inside, then stops, looking
with amazement and horror from father to brother._ NAT _pushes her
roughly aside to look behind her down the stairs_.]

SUE--Nat!

NAT--[_Turning to his father._] I’ll go down to the wharf. They must be
there or---- [_The rest of his words are lost as he hurries down the
stairs._ BARTLETT _steps back, shrinking away from his daughter, and
sinks on a chair by the table with a groan, his hands over his eyes._]

SUE--[_Comes to him and shakes him by the shoulder--alarmed._] Pa! What
has happened? What is the matter with Nat? What have you told him?
[_With bitter despair._] Oh, can’t you see you’re driving him mad, too?

BARTLETT--[_Letting his hands fall and staring at her
haggardly--falteringly, as if reason were slowly filtering back into his
brain._] Sue--ye said--drivin’ him mad, _too_! Then ye think I be----?
[_He staggers to his feet._ SUE _breaks down, sobbing_. BARTLETT
_falters on_.] But I seen her--the Sarah Allen--the signal lights----

SUE--Oh, Pa, there’s nothing there! You know it! She was lost months
ago.

BARTLETT--Lost? [_He stumbles over to a porthole and looks out. His body
sags as if he were going to fall. He turns away and cries hopelessly in
a tone of heart-rending grief._] Lost! Aye, they be no Sarah Allen
there--no lights--nothin’!

SUE--[_Pleading fiercely._] Pa, you’ve got to save Nat! He won’t heed
anyone else. Can’t you tell him the truth--the whole truth whatever it
is--now when I’m here and you’re yourself again--and set him free from
this crazy dream!

BARTLETT--[_With wild grief._] Confess, ye mean? Sue, ye be houndin’ me
like your Ma did to her dyin’ hour! Confess--that I spoke the word to
Jimmy--in my mind! Confess--brass and junk--not worth a damn! [_In
frenzied protest._] No! Ye lie!

SUE--Oh, Pa, I don’t know what you mean. Tell Nat the truth! Save him!

BARTLETT--The truth? It’s a lie! [_As_ SUE _tries to bar his way to the
companionway--sternly_.] Out o’ my way, girl! [_He pulls himself feebly
up the stairs. The door is heard slamming above._ SUE _sits down in a
chair in a hopeless, exhausted attitude. After a pause_ NAT _re-enters.
He is panting heavily from his exertions. His pale face is set in an
expression of despair._]

NAT--[_Looking about the room wildly._] Where is he? Sue! [_He comes
forward and falls on his knees beside her chair, hiding his face in her
lap like a frightened child. He sobs hoarsely._] Sue! What does it all
mean? I looked. There was nothing there--no schooner--nothing.

SUE--[_Soothing him as if he were a little boy._] Of course there
wasn’t. Did you expect there would be, you foolish boy? Come, you know
better than that. Why, Nat, you told the doctor and I that you were
absolutely convinced the Sarah Allen was lost.

NAT--[_Dully._] Yes, I know--but I don’t believe--like him----

SUE--Sshhhh! You know the state Pa is in. He doesn’t realize what he’s
saying half the time. You ought to have better sense than to pay any
attention----

NAT--[_Excitedly._] But he told me all he’s been hiding from us--all
about the gold!

SUE--[_Looking at him with alarm--mystified._] Gold? [_Then forcing a
smile._] Don’t be silly, Nat. It doesn’t exist except in his poor,
deranged mind.

NAT--[_Fiercely._] That’s a lie, Sue! I saw the map, I tell you--the map
of the island with a cross marked on it where they buried the gold.

SUE--He showed a map to you--a real map? [_Gently._] Are you sure you’re
not just imagining that, too?

NAT--I had it in my hands, you fool, you! There--on the table. [_He
springs to his feet, sees the map on the table, and snatches it up with
an exclamation of joy--showing it to_ SUE.] See! Now will you believe
me! [_She examines the map perplexedly._ NAT _paces up and
down--excitedly_.] I tell you it’s all true. You can’t deny it now. It’s
lucky for us I forced him to confess. He might have died keeping the
secret and then we’d have lost--I’ll tell you what I’m going to do now,
Sue. I’m going to raise the money somewhere, somehow, and fit out
another schooner and this time I’ll sail on her myself. No trusting to
Danny or anyone else! Yes, Sue, we’ll come into our own yet, even if the
Sarah Allen is lost---- [_He stops--then in accents of bewildered
fear._] But--she can’t be lost--I saw the lights, Sue--red and
green--as plain as I see you now---- [_He goes to one of the portholes
again._]

SUE--[_Who has been watching him worriedly, puts the map back on the
table, gets up and, assuming a brisk, matter-of-fact tone, she goes over
and takes him by the arm._] Come downstairs, Nat. Don’t think any more
about it tonight. It’s late and you’re worn out. You need rest and a
good sleep.

NAT--[_Following her toward the door--confusedly._] But Sue--I saw
them---- [_From above in the night comes the muffled hail in_ BARTLETT’S
_voice_.] Sarah Allen, ahoy! [NAT _stops, tortured, his hands
instinctively raised up to cover his ears_. SUE _gives a startled cry.
The door above is slammed and_ BARTLETT _comes down the stairs, his face
revealing that the delusion has again full possession of his mind_.]

BARTLETT--[_Pointing his finger at his son and fixing him with his
eyes--in ringing, triumphant tones._] The Sarah Allen, boy--in the
harbor below--a red and a green plain afore my eyes! What did I tell ye,
boy? Come back from the Southern Seas as I swore she must! Loaded with
gold as I swore she would be! [NAT _again seems to crumble--to give way
to the stronger will. He takes a step toward his father, his eyes
lighting up._ SUE _looks at his face--then rushes to her father_.]

SUE--[_Putting her hands to her father’s head and forcing him to look
down into her face--intensely._] Pa! Stop, do you hear me! It’s all mad!
You’re driving Nat mad, too! [_As she sees her father hesitate, the wild
light dying out of his eyes, she summons all her power to a fierce
pleading._] For my sake, Pa! For Ma’s sake! Think of how she would feel
if she were alive and saw you acting this way with Nat! Tell him! Tell
him now--before me--tell him it’s all a lie!

BARTLETT--[_Trying in an agony of conflict to get hold of his
reason--incoherently._] Yes, Sue--I hear ye--confess--aye, Sarah, your
dyin’ words--keep Nat clear o’ this--but--red and green--I seen ’em
plain---- [_Then suddenly after a tremendous struggle, lifting his
tortured face to_ NAT’S--_in tones of despair_.] Nothin’ there, boy!
Don’t ye believe! No red and green! She’ll never come! Derelict and
lost, boy, the Sarah Allen. [_After another struggle with himself._] And
I lied to ye, boy. I gave the word--in my mind--to kill them two. I
murdered ’em in cold blood.

SUE--[_Shrinking from him in horror._] Pa! You don’t know what you’re
saying.

BARTLETT--The truth, girl. Ye said--confess----

NAT--[_Bewilderedly._] But--it was right. They were trying to steal----

BARTLETT--[_Overcome by the old obsession for a moment--savagely._]
Aye, that’s it! The thievin’ scum! They was tryin’---- [_He stays short,
throwing his head back, his whole body tense and quivering with the
effort he makes to force this sustaining lie out of his brain--then,
broken but self-conquering, he looks again at_ NAT--_gently_.] No, Nat.
That be the lie I been tellin’ myself ever since. That cook--he said
’twas brass---- But I’d been lookin’ for ambergris--gold--the whole o’
my life--and when we found that chest--I _had_ to believe, I tell ye!
I’d been dreamin’ o’ it all my days! But he said brass and junk, and
told the boy--and I give the word to murder ’em both and cover ’em up
with sand.

NAT--[_Very pale--despairingly._] But he lied, didn’t he? It is
gold--real gold--isn’t it?

BARTLETT--[_Slowly takes the studded anklet from his pocket and holds it
out to_ NAT. _The latter brings it to the light of the lantern._
BARTLETT _sits on a chair, covering his face with his hands--in a tone
of terrible suffering_.] Ye’ll tell me, boy--if it’s gold or no. I’ve
had it by me all this time--but I’ve been afeerd to show----

NAT--[_In a tone of wild scorn._] Why, it’s brass, of course! The
cheapest kind of junk--not worth a damn! [_He flings it savagely into a
corner of the room._ BARTLETT _groans and seems to shrink up and turn
into a figure of pitiable feebleness_.]

SUE--[_Pityingly._] Don’t, Nat. [_She puts her arms around her father’s
shoulders protectingly._]

NAT--[_In a stifled voice._] What a damned fool I’ve been! [_He flings
himself down on the cot, his shoulders heaving._]

BARTLETT--[_Uncovers his grey face on which there is now settling an
expression of strange peace--stroking his daughter’s hand._] Sue--don’t
think hard o’ me. [_He takes the map._] An end to this! [_He slowly
tears it into small pieces, seeming to grow weaker and weaker as he does
so. Finally as he lets the fragments filter through his fingers, his
whole frame suddenly relaxes. He sighs, his eyes shut, and sags back in
his chair, his head bent forward limply on his chest._]

SUE--[_Alarmed._] Pa! [_She sinks to her knees beside him and looks up
into his face._] Pa! Speak to me! It’s Sue! [_Then turning toward her
brother--terrifiedly._] Nat! Run--get the doctor---- [NAT _starts to a
sitting position_. SUE _tries with trembling hands to feel of her
father’s pulse, his heart--then begins to sob hysterically_.] Oh,
Nat--he’s dead, I think--he’s dead!


[_The Curtain Falls_]




*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "Gold : A play in four acts" ***

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