Robert.
Oh! If you won’t have it—you may sew it on if I may keep my coat on while you are doing it!
Loveday.
Very well. Heroes have to be humoured, I suppose. Come along, it’s getting late!
(They follow the others, as she is going off she looks back and sends a compassionate glance towards Gordon.
The sky rapidly darkens. Gordon stays behind, waits till they are all out of sight, then he throws himself face down on the ground, clenching his hands and moving as though in pain. The bell bird’s clear sweet note is heard. He lies in silence then groans aloud.)
Gordon.
To both my country and the woman I love, I’m not a man. I’m lumber—useless lumber! Nora! Nora!
(Gordon crouches in despair. The stage is now dusky, a pale moon shows. Softly, without any noise, between the trunks of two tall trees appears behind him the upper part of a white figure, with the forehead and head half covered by a floating white veil; the face is tender and grave, the eyes glowing as if inspired. In the shadowy light the figure looks like a vision. Gordon does not recognise that it is Loveday. He slowly, as if mesmerised, rises on to his knees. There is a sweet low call of the bell bird far away. Stillness for a moment. Loveday stands silent between the trees.)
Gordon.