SCENE II
A gallery in the Manor House. R. front, fireplace[27] with glowing red fire. Beside it, at right angles, settle. R. back, door. Back Center, the portraits of Sir Philip and Lady Geraldine, in tall old frames reaching down nearly to floor, so that only a short step is necessary when the figures come out. L. back, window, with snow-covered trees in distance, and moonlight. L. front, door. Hangings, a few quaint chairs, etc. Center of stage clear. Curtain shows empty stage. Diccon and Gillian cross from L. to R., talking—Gillian enters first, as if in haste, Diccon trying to stop her. Stage lights very dim. Gillian carries a candle, which she shades with her hand.
Diccon [calling softly]. Gillian, Gillian! Hang the wench! Wilt not wait, good Gillian? I've somewhat of great import to tell thee.
Gillian [impatiently]. Were I to believe thee, Master Diccon, all thine affairs are of great matter. Mayhap thou thinkest my business is ever of small consequence?
Diccon. Nay, then, Gillian—but this news is thine and mine and my lord's and my lady's too!
[Gillian turns, a little curious, and waits for him.
Gillian [scornfully]. A strange matter, methinks, that can be thine and mine and theirs, too!
Diccon. But list a moment, and you shall hear. Giles, the horse-boy, hath been in the village this day, and heard that which bodes ill to us. Giles heard them talking in the tavern——
Gillian. Heard whom talking, Diccon? I can make naught of thy twisting tales!
Diccon. Why, the Roundhead knaves, be sure. And the pith and kernel of Giles' tale—an thou'lt not hear the how and the when—is this! that they mean to come hither this night and search our house.
Gillian [gives a little scream and claps her hand over her mouth]. Oh, Diccon, Diccon,—what can they want here? We be peaceful folk. In sooth 'tis known we are all good King's men, but no harm have we done to any! Oh, Diccon!
Diccon. Sst! silly wench! They'll not harm thee. But hark to what else Giles heard. They be coming to search for Master Rufus!
Gillian. Master Rufus! But he hath not been here these many weeks.
Diccon. Sst! Speak more cautiously, Gillian. The knaves did say they have certain knowledge that Master Rufus is here in hiding.
Gillian [looking fearfully and suspiciously about]. Oh, Diccon, dost believe it?
Diccon. In good sooth, how can I tell? But I am in great fear.
Gillian. Thou afeard, Diccon? Oh, what dost think the Roundhead villains will do to us?
Diccon [angrily]. A pest upon thee, wench! They'll do naught to us! 'Tis for my young master I am troubled. If they take him, 'tis doubtless to a rebel prison he'll go, and then—it's rough fare for such a young lad,—and gentle born and bred to boot.
Gillian [curiously]. But can he be here, think you, Diccon?
Diccon [anxiously]. He may be. And I do fear to ask my lord or my lady of the matter. [Going towards door.] I would I knew my duty, Gillian.
[Exeunt (R.). After a moment enter (L.)
the three children in nightgowns, the little
girls in caps, also. They do not speak, but
motion to each other excitedly, and run
about, choosing a fit hiding-place. Allison
takes a small stool and plants it
directly in front of portraits, sits down,
and folds her hands to wait. The others,
consulting by signs, do not at first see her,
then rush upon her in alarm and drag her
away, taking stool with them, and making
reproving gestures. All go to settle, place
stool by fire, and allow Allison to sit on
it. Cicely kneels at end of settle, partly
concealed by its arm. Rafe lies full
length upon it, alternately ducking below
arm and peeping over it. They shake fingers
at each other, touch lips to insure silence,
and when Allison turns as if to
speak. Cicely claps a quiet hand over her
mouth. Business of settling into place.
When there has been a moment's pause, a
bell is heard in the distance striking midnight.
The portraits slowly turn their
heads, take a long and deep breath, and
begin to move; soft music is heard (minuet,
from Mozart's "Don Giovanni");
they bend forward, step with one foot from
the frames and clasp hands across the space
between; then step forth entirely, and bow
and courtesy low and slowly to each other.
Then they take hands, and to the music
go through such part of the old French
minuet as is practicable for two alone.
When this has continued as long as is desirable,
there is a sudden noise without.
Instantly the music ceases and the figures
go back with all swiftness and resume
pose in frames. Children also much startled.
Cicely [in alarmed whisper]. Oh, Rafe, what was that?
Rafe. I don't know. Sh-sh-sh!
[Enter Rufus (R.), silently and furtively.
Goes to window and peers out. Comes
back hurriedly and without seeing children.
Exit (R.). Rafe springs up and follows
to door, gazing out after Rufus.
Cicely [aloud, but still cautious, though in great fright]. Oh, Rafe—I saw a man! Who was that?
Allison. So did I, sister! Let's run!
Cicely. Mother! Mother! I'm frightened!
Allison. Oh, Gillian, come get us!
[Both rush screaming out of door (L.). Rafe
comes quickly and silently back. Goes to
window and stands peering out.
Rafe. That was brother Rufus. I wonder how he came hither.... And there is someone ... away out there in the snow ... men ... coming this way. [Leaves window and stands directly in front of portraits, with his back to them, and a little way off. Stares anxiously straight before him, and speaks low and quietly.] Perhaps they are soldiers ... or wicked people come to seek for him and take him away.... Rufus went up the little stairs to the Tower.... There's no place to hide in the Tower! [His voice gradually rising.] They'll find him as soon as they get here.... Oh, what shall I do—what shall I do? [Stands with hands clenched, listening and thinking, wide-eyed. The portraits move and bend toward him.]
Lady Geraldine [leaning forward and smiling tenderly]. Little Rafe, little Rafe, thou must play the man this night!
Sir Philip [leaning forward and speaking earnestly]. Little lad, little lad, thou art little and young! Go and fetch thy father!
Rafe [does not turn at all]. My father will know what to do.... Mayhap he will even open the secret door Gillian telleth of.... Surely, surely he cannot be angry now. [Turns and rushes wildly out (R.)].
[Enter Phyllis (R.), all shaking and trembling.
Phyllis [calls softly]. Rufus! Rufus! Where art thou? [To herself.] Oh, where can the rash boy have gone? He was safe for the time in the Blue Chamber. And now—— Oh, what can I do! I must warn him! [Wrings her hands and goes to window.] Gillian hath told me they are coming to seek him. He must be warned! Oh, where can he have gone? [Goes to door (L.), then to window once more. Enter Rafe, dragging Sir Gilbert by the hand.]
Rafe [breathless]. You needs must listen, Father! Brother Rufus came in at this door and went to the window, softly, to peep out. Then he ran out again and I got me up speedily and ran to the casement. [Tries to draw Sir Gilbert to window, but he resists and stands frowning (R. Center).] And I looked out, Father, and there was someone coming—men—away over toward the village. I saw them. And Rufus is gone up the Tower stairs—— [Phyllis starts forward to door, but turns back.]
Phyllis. The Tower, saidst thou, Rafe?
Rafe. Yes! The Tower! And thou knowest, Father, there is no way of escape from the Tower! Father, tell us what to do!
Phyllis [coming to his side with clasped hands]. Oh, good Uncle, save him while there is yet time!
Rafe. I know thou canst find a way, Father!
[Enter Lady Katherine, the two little girls
clinging to her skirts.
Lady K. [in amazement]. What can be the meaning of all this coil? The children crying to me in fright some old wives' tale about the family portraits—someone in the gallery—the soldiers—— My poor wits cannot fathom it!
Rafe [still clinging to his father's hand]. Oh, lady Mother, Rufus is hiding in the Tower, and the soldiers are coming, and Father must save him!
Lady K. [cries out]. Rufus, saidst thou? [Shakes off the children and hurries toward Rafe.] Where is he, boy?
Rafe [seizes her hand and draws her to door (L.)]. Here, Mother, here, up in the Tower. [Exeunt. Cicely and Allison cling together.]
Cicely. Oh, Allison, sweet sister, it was brother Rufus we did see in the gallery. And the Roundhead soldiers are coming.
Allison. Will they drag him away from here?
Phyllis. Oh, Uncle, dear Uncle, surely thou knowest some secret place in this old house where he can lie safe until danger be past?
[Enter Rafe and Lady Katherine with
Rufus (R.). Lady Katherine hastens
to window, glances out, then goes to quiet
children, who are sobbing. Rafe rushes
to his father, and Rufus at first starts to him.
Rafe. Father, here he is. Now what's to do?
Rufus. Father, I would——
Sir G. [interrupting]. Not a word from you, sirrah! How dare you enter this house whence you went but to disgrace my name? You are no son of mine!
[Rufus draws back and stands proudly a little
aloof. The rest cry out in protest.
Lady K. Oh, my lord, you cannot mean the words you speak!
Phyllis. Uncle!
Rafe. Oh, Father, poor Rufus!
Diccon [without]. Sir Gilbert! Sir Gilbert! Where art thou, master!
Gillian [without]. Oh, mistress! Oh, my lady!
[Enter Diccon and Gillian in greatest excitement.
Diccon carries a pair of candles,
which he places hastily on the chimney-piece.
Raise lights.
Diccon. My lord, the soldiers are coming! [Rushes to window.] They be at our very gates!
Gillian. Oh, mistress, the murthering knaves will burn the house above our heads!
Lady K. Hold thy peace, silly wench!
[General hubbub. Children cling crying to
their mother. Diccon and Gillian at
window. Rafe now running to window,
now tugging at his father's hand. Phyllis
at his other side.
Diccon. They come down the long hill!
Gillian. I see them, the knaves!
Phyllis. Oh, Uncle, prythee forgive Rufus—save him quickly!
Sir G. [angrily]. He doth not desire forgiveness.
Phyllis. Oh, Uncle, he would have asked it but now. Thy bitter words did check him, and thou knowest he is proud. He could not ask it then.
Gillian. Here they be!
Diccon. At our very gates!
Lady K. [above noise]. My lord, thou dost know some secret place. Do but disclose it to me. Remember he is thine own flesh and blood.
Diccon. Hark, ye can hear them! [Silence falls. In the distance the carol of the Waits is heard.]
Phyllis [relieved]. 'Tis the waits at their carols.
Lady K. [thankfully]. 'Tis not the soldiers, after all!
Diccon [turning from window]. Would it were not, my lady! Ye do hear the waits singing beneath the hall windows, 'tis true, but these at our gates be no peaceful carollers. [Turns back to window. All are silent for a moment, listening, until the refrain of "Peace on earth" is reached.]
Sir G. [startled]. "Peace on earth, good will to men!" Now Heaven forgive my angry spirit! Here, Rufus—quick, lad! [Touches spring at R. of portrait. Panel opens, and Sir Gilbert thrusts Rufus through, and it closes behind him. Sir Gilbert turns and takes command.] Clear the room—this throng will never do—guilt and suspicion sit upon our very faces. Wife, Phyllis! take these children to bed. Gillian! to the kitchen, wench, and do all in thy power to quiet the maidens there. Hasten to the gate, Diccon, and say that your master throws open his doors to their search. Bear yourselves, all, as if nothing had befallen! Now, haste!
[Rapid clearing of the room. Lady Katherine
and Phyllis hurry the children
out (L.), trying to quiet them. Exeunt
Diccon and Gillian by the door (R.).
Unnoticed, Rafe springs into box of settle,
and closes lid over him. When all are
gone, Sir Gilbert goes quietly about room
to put all in order. Looks out at window.
Sounds from without, of beating on doors,
etc. Cries, "Down with the false King!"
"Death to traitors!" etc. Sir Gilbert
goes to panel for a moment.
Sir G. [tapping]. Rufus! Rufus!
Rufus [within]. Yes, Father!
Sir G. Cheerly, good lad! Lie thou quiet, no harm shall come to thee. [Sir Gilbert goes to chimney, takes an old book from shelf, and sits on settle. Noises of search gradually come nearer. Enter Diccon, followed by soldiers.]
Diccon [torn between his fear and hatred of the soldiers and his wish to propitiate them]. Here is my lord, your masterships! He bade me give you free welcome [bows politely, but as they pass him he snarls aside], and a pest upon all of ye!
Sir G. What would you of me, my men? Why, Diccon, these be all old neighbors—not soldiers.
[The men are disconcerted, and advance awkwardly,
pulling at their forelocks.
Stephen. Yes—Sir Gilbert—no, Sir Gilbert—we be verily soldiers—soldiers of the Parliament.
Sir G. You have taken up arms against your King? I had thought to see old neighbors and friends and loyal men. [Rises, laying down book.]
Stephen. We do be loyal men——
Andrew. Loyal to the Parliament.
Wat. And soldiers of Cromwell.
Sir G. What, then, would you of me? Ye do know I am a subject of King Charles.
Stephen. My lord, we have orders to search this house.
Sir G. So be it, then. Obey your orders. What do ye look to find here?
Andrew. 'Tis a false traitor Cavalier.
Wat. He lurketh here and we mean to have him, too.
Stephen. We would do our work peaceably, my lord. But our general must have the country cleared of all Malignants.
Sir G. You have my free consent. My house is open to you from turret's peak to the bins in the cellar.
Diccon. There be more of 'em, my lord—a round dozen. And they waited not thy permission. They be already both on tower and in bins.
Sir G. Disturb them not, good Diccon. [Turns back to settle, takes up book and pretends to read, but keeps a careful eye on soldiers.]
Stephen. Do your work with thoroughness, men.
Andrew. That will we, captain!
Wat. There be many lurking—places in these old rats' nests.
Andrew. We'll ferret him out!
Wat. Aye, aye—the false villain.
[They go carefully about room, lifting hangings,
tapping walls and floor, trying to see
behind picture-frames, coming very near
secret door.
Stephen. Have ye tested the walls?
Wat. Aye, and the floors.
Andrew. There be no secrets here.
Stephen. Then we'll look further. Give ye good even, Sir Gilbert.
Andrew. Mayhap we'll meet again——
Wat. Aye,—on the field of battle!
[Exeunt soldiers, with angry gestures. Sir
Gilbert rises and bows slightly, signing to
Diccon to follow. Sir Gilbert waits an
instant, follows to door, then goes to window
and watches. Rafe jumps out of box,
and stands beside settle. Enter Lady
Katherine, followed by Phyllis and
Gillian, stealing in to peep out at window.
Enter Cicely and Allison, catching
at Gillian's skirts.
Allison [piteously]. Gillian! Gillian!
Cicely. Oh, Gillian, don't leave us alone!
Gillian [turns back]. Never! my lambs. Have never a fear of that. [Sits in chair (L.), gathers Allison into her lap, drawing Cicely beside her. Gillian still looks anxiously towards window.]
Phyllis. There they go, those wicked men!
Lady K. Now Heaven be praised! [Rafe runs to stand at panel. Enter Diccon.]
Diccon. My lord and my lady—— [All turn. Sir Gilbert crosses stage to meet Diccon.] The knaves be all gone, sir. I shut the gate upon them with my own two hands. [Everyone takes a breath of relief. Rafe touches spring and Rufus steps out and strides to his father.]
Rufus. Father, let your son's first word be to crave pardon for all his willfulness!
Sir G. [clasping his hand warmly and putting an arm across his shoulder]. Nay, lad, 'tis freely given. Methinks I should first ask thine for all my hardness of heart.
[Phyllis goes to Lady Katherine, who
turns and kisses her affectionately. They
stand side by side.
Phyllis. Our little Rafe has played the man and saved Rufus for us all.
Lady K. He is a brave little lad! But tell me, children, what doth it mean that you were out of your beds at such a strange hour?
Rafe. We got up to see our ancestors dance.
All. Ancestors dance!
Sir G. What meaneth the child?
Rafe. Why, sir, Gillian's grandam hath said to her, that when the midnight tolled on Christmas Eve, my lord and my lady here did step forth, clasp hands, and dance.
Allison. And so we came to see.
Cicely. And soothly, it was so. They came forth and danced, here in the shine of the fire. A brave sight, Father!
Sir G. Now, saints defend us! What is a man to make of this?
Lady K. Never heed them—'twas just a sleep-heavy fancy. A beautiful Christmas-tide dream.
Rafe. Nay, lady Mother, it was no dream. It was the spell of Christmas brought it all to pass.
Sir G. Now doth the lad speak truth, good friends! Verily it is the spell of Christmas which hath saved us all from sin and much sorrow this night. The spell of "Peace upon earth, good will to men." Hark, the waits are singing still—as angels sing, and ever shall sing the world around, on Christmas Eve.
[All stand listening for a moment to distant
singing, then join in carol.
CURTAIN