BAP. Lordy! (Duval raps again; Baptiste jumps; suddenly has an idea.) Yes, sah! (exit on a run; returns immediately holding a big syringe.) Comin’ sah. Lordy!... (he puts the syringe to the crevice in the wall and applies his remedy; redoubled, furious stamping and swearing by Duval; enter Darblee and Bella.)
DAR. Baptiste. (Baptiste falls back in a state of collapse; exit Darblee; re-enter immediately Darblee, conducting Duval whose face and hair are soaked.) My dear sir, I am all amazement and indignation!
DUV. (pointing to Baptiste.) That son of Satan must have put me in there.
BAP. Naw sah, Marser Duval. De mask sperrit put yo in dyar, sah, to save some pirate fum despair an’ death.
DAR. Nonsense.
BAP. Who dat put Marser Duval in dyar den? I dint know dey uz a place in dyar big ’nough fo’ anyting ’ceptin’ a sperrit.
BELLA. (nervously.) I just caught a glimpse of a man with a full beard;—oh, a horrible red beard! Then I ran out for assistance and met Mr. Darblee.
DUV. A plague of old pirate houses! They’re always full of traps.
DAR. (to Baptiste.) Get out! (to Duval.) I’ll have him severely punished for this.
DUV. I’ll wash my face and comb my hair. (exit.)