[EXEUNT all by veranda.
ENTER Lady Cecil L., followed by Miss Prendergast.
Miss P. (gasping). Cecil, how can you be so lamentably, foolishly rash? People have been thrown into prison for bribing sentries. You walk in here as if you were the Mikado-ess of Japan! I knew that we should not escape without some grievous trouble. Come away! (Pulls Cecil, who looks around inquisitively.) Come away before they see us and it is too late!
Cecil. Dear G., don’t you like exploring expeditions? No? I remember, you prefer excavations. Didn’t Professor Anstruther discourse eternally on the excavation of antiquities? Think what a lovely day we have had! I contemplate taking my dear little rickshaw man and his carriage back to London to be the sensation when we go home.
Miss P. (sighing). To England? We shall never see our native land again—and you promised that we should be at home in time for the Sales!
Cecil. So I did, but you wouldn’t like to leave poor Arthur lamenting alone, searching for the lost heiress? The Princess has left the Palace. She would have interested the Emperor for him. I must know if the villagers speak the truth and she is here. G., don’t you think things assume a darkly tragic air?
Miss P. Dark and tragic, indeed! It is exactly what I have predicted! Ar—his lordship has offended, I feel sure he has offended innocently, and those horrid little policemen, looking as if they had come out of a pantomime or a box of toys, will take him off to prison. Then (tearfully) it will be your turn, through your headstrong folly. Cecil, I implore you not to look out from there—and I—in my old—ahem!—in the prime of life, will have to accompany you!
Cecil (at veranda). G., dear, do come and look at this delicious view!
Miss P. (remaining L.). I shall not stir from this spot!
Cecil (running up to her). Nothing will happen, so don’t draw gloomy pictures about Arthur. Fancy, roped by these policemen, would one come for him, or two, or six? They are so painfully polite; one could not hurt their feelings by refusing. Think what pictures for Punch, what headlines for newspapers. (Puts an arm around Miss P.) Wouldn’t you like to be in history?