Complete Works of Wilkie Collins (1952 page)

CAPT. W. (
aside
). The blow has gone deeper than I thought; she can’t get over her desertion by her lover, that young Clare.

MAG. How soft that turf looks, how soft and friendly — that wouldn’t cast me off! Mother Earth! the only mother I have left.

CAPT. W. Ahem! Am I to infer, then, from this language that you want courage for your task ?

MAG. Want courage! when I care for nothing?

CAPT. W. Exactly, so I fancied; and as the case in respect of Mr. Vanstone is, that he is in possession of your property, as his father was before him, and is just as resolved to keep it —
 

MAG. He is.

CAPT. W. Whilst you are just as helpless to get it by persuasion, just as helpless to get it by law, and yet are just as resolved to get it by some means or other.

MAG. But not for the money’s sake, remember that; for the sake of the right, sir, of the right.

CAPT. W. Precisely, for the right; and as, after due consideration, you have seen there is no other way to realize your aim, you have made up your mind to —
 

MAG. (
hangs her head
). To marry him.

CAPT. W. To marry him! he having evinced his admiration for you the very first moment you met, having joined us in our daily ramble, and having paid you such attention as justifies your thinking he is on the point of making a proposal.

MAG. Even so.

CAPT. W. The. only obstacle to your wishes, and the growth of his attachment, being his housekeeper, Madame Lecompte, whose attention I have made it my business to engage during our walks, and which I have been enabled to accomplish, owing to my discovery of her weak point — her taste for science, which she owes to her deceased husband, the Swiss professor; which taste I have contrived to consult, by purchasing that far-famed pocket manual of knowledge, Joyce’s Scientific Dialogues, with whose contents I have managed to inflate my new skin as much as possible.

MAG. Yes, yes; I admit all your important services.

CAPT. W. Which services you have agreed to reward with the sum of £200, on the morning of your marriage, after which we are to part, never to meet again.

MAG. That is our agreement.

CAPT. W. Well, and what’s the prospect of its success? You expect to be able to bring Mr. Vanstone to propose to you this morning?

MAG. (
hanging her head again
). I do.

CAPT. W. But that is of little use, unless he is enabled to fulfill his offer; and that can never be done so long as that she-dragon is beside him, who, it strikes me, at times, half suspects your identity, though you do look so different from the person who called on her at Lambeth. You must see, therefore, it is indispensable we should get this woman away; and that little preliminary, I fancy, I have prepared for.

MAG. Indeed!

CAPT. W. She has a brother at Geneva, who is tolerably wealthy, who has been ill, and whom she hopes will leave her all his money. Mr. Vanstone has shown me one of his letters to her, of which I have taken a fac-simile, in order to be able to copy the hand; and on the strength of that advantage, ten days ago, I wrote a letter to her from her brother, informing her that he was much worse, and begging her to come to him immediately; and this letter I sent to Paris to a friend, who will post it at Geneva, and which letter I confidently expect she will receive in another day.

MAG. And this will remove her?

CAPT. W. No fear of that, for her avarice is as strong as her jealousy. She’ll start for Switzerland at once, and leave the field conveniently open, for Mr. Noel Vanstone and his cousin to marry in her absence, and start on their bridal tour.

MAG. Marriage, marriage — and with him!

CAPT. W. For heaven’s sake be cautious! for here your adorer comes!

MR. NOEL VANSTONE
enters from house, followed by
MADAME LECOMPTE.

VANS. Ah, good morning to you, Miss Bygrave, and you, too, my dear sir. I trust I see you both well to-day. This is one of my good days, and I hope it is also one of yours.

CAPT. W. Well, I fear it is not one of my niece’s. She seems very dull to-day. Hasn’t bathed — hasn’t had her walk.

VAN. Well, I’m extremely sorry, (
aside
) Can it be that
I
am the cause of it — that she is thinking of our talk of yesterday — of the avowal that I made?

CAPT. W. So I have advised her, poor darling, not to exert herself to-day, but to go and lie down.

VAN. Now, might I be allowed to advise, I should say a walk, of all things, is the remedy for her temporary sadness; and, if she would honour me so much as to permit me to partake it —
 

CAPT. W. Well, Susan, what do you say, love?

MAG. I shall be very happy, if Mr. Vanstone wishes it (
she rises from her seat and takes his arm.
)

VANS. (
aside
). She consents, she understands me. In another hour she is mine, (
he leads her off,
R. U. E., MADAME LECOMPTE
looks after them.
)

MAD. L. (
aside
). He is fascinated with that girl, much as he denies it to me, and calls it a mere flirtation — protests he is only trifling with her. It is
he
will be the victim, fool as he is — I know it.

CAPT. W. (
aside
). She suspects, and if her thoughts are not diverted from them, perhaps will suspect so much, my trap for her will fail. Ahem! Good morning, my dear madam; what a magnificent sea to-day!

MAD. L. (
aside
). And this man, too, smooth-spoken as he is, I fear him as much as her.

CAPT. W. Splendid sea, indeed! Come, Madame Lecompte, we really must be sociable. Where there is only one walk in the place, and on it we must meet daily, we must meet as good friends, and why not? Are we formal people? Nothing of the sort. You, on your side, possess the continental facility of manner. I match you on mine with the blunt cordiality of an old-fashioned Englishman. The result is a mutual interest in making our sea-side stay agreeable. Pardon my flow of spirits, the iodine in the sea air, madam; purely the effect of the iodine.

MAD. L. Oh, indeed, sir. (
aside
) They’re gone down the beach.

CAPT. W. Your husband, Madame Lecompte, would have appreciated that remark; eminent as he was in science, his extensive knowledge must have taught him how much mere physical influence has to do with the state of the mind.

MAD. L. No doubt of it, Mr. Bygrave; and pardon me if for an instant I seemed a little inattentive. It is long, long ago since I have heard myself addressed in the language of science; my dear husband made me his companion; my dear husband improved my mind, and I feel grateful you should recall his memory, and also his example.

CAPT. W. (
aside
). Joyce, ahem! (
aloud
) Believe me, my dear madam, the gratification is mutual. Every moment on this delightful coast something or other occurs to prompt such observations. Now those vessels passing yonder, they suggest, of course, the theory of flotation. May I ask, Madame Lecompte, whether you have ever considered that theory?

MAD. L. I cannot say I have, (
she takes a seat,
L. H.)

CAPT. W. And yet, my dear madam, how much of life and property depends upon it; how much of England’s wealth, how much of England’s greatness. Pray observe, now, how heavily some of those vessels are laden; and yet, madam, should they be loaded one-thirtieth part more than they ought to be, what is the result? They pass Aldborough in safety, they enter the Thames in safety, they get on in fresh water, perhaps, as far as Greenwich, and then, madam, down they go.

MAD. L. Is it possible?

CAPT. W. Yes, madam, as a matter of scientific certainty. We will start, if you please, with a first principle. All bodies that float, displace as much fluid as is equal in weight to themselves. Good, we have got our first principle! What do we deduce from that? Manifestly this, that in order to keep a vessel afloat, it is necessary ship and cargo should be of less weight than the weight of the water. (
she looks round
) Pray follow me here, madam — the weight of water equal in bulk to that part of the vessel which it is intended to immerse. Now, madam, salt water is specifically thirty times heavier than fresh, and a vessel in the German Ocean will not sink so deep as in the Thames, consequently you see, when we load our ship for the London market —
 

MAD. L. (
aside
). Why, where can they have gone to?

CAPT. W. I say, when we load for the London market, we have hydrostatically three alternatives before us, either we load one-thirtieth part less than we can safely carry at sea, or we take one-thirtieth part out when we arrive at the mouth of the river; or we do neither the one or the other, and, as I have already had the honour of remarking, on reaching Greenwich, down we go.

MAD. L. (
rises and looks off,
R. U. E.,
aside
). This delay is most surprising, I —
 

CAPT. W. Ah, I see; you are struck with the change of the wind. Very extraordinary, really. Nor’-nor’-west this morning; now due nor’, veering slightly to nor’-east; ten to one, this afternoon, will veer round to the south, (
following her up
C.) Is there anything, my dear madam, more remarkable than the variableness of the wind in England? Is there any phenomenon more bewildering to the scientific inquirer? You will tell me that its principal cause is the electric fluid which abounds in the air; you will remind me of the experiment of that illustrious philosopher, who measured the velocity of a great storm by a small flight of feathers. I grant all of your propositions.

MAD. L. I beg your pardon, you kindly attribute to me knowledge which I don’t at all possess; my dear husband might have replied to you; as for myself, I can only thank you for your very agreeable and instructive conversation, and as I fear Mr. Vanstone is rather exceeding his extent of walk —
 

CAPT. W. Bless my soul, the post.

MAD. L. The post?

CAPT. W. I think that is the old fellow, yonder, that carries round the letters. I am anxiously expecting one from a dear sister of mine in Scotland.

MAD. L. And I am not less anxious, for I have a brother at Geneva, who is far from being well; and as he has not written to me for the last fortnight, I —
 

CAPT. W. It’s the man, madam, and here he is coming; he has a letter for one of us, it’s quite clear, and if I dared trust my fluttering pulse, I —
 

POSTMAN
enters,
L. U. E.

Who for, my good man — speak!

POSTMAN. Madame Lecompte., [
Goes to her, gives it. Exit,
L. U. E.

CAPT. W. For you, madam. I leave you to peruse it. (
he turns away, up stage.
)

MAD. L. From my brother! (
tears it open, reads a few lines, and screams
) Good heavens!

CAPT. W. (
coming down
). My dear madam!

MAD. L. He’s very ill — he thinks he’s dying; he implores me to come to him instantly.

CAPT. W. Bless my soul! I’m very sorry.

MAD. L. My sight fails me. Will you oblige me, sir, by calling Mr. Vanstone?

CAPT. W. Certainly, my dear madam; certainly, (
he goes to
R. U. E.,
and waves his hat
) Mr. Vanstone, Mr. Vanstone! He is coming, my dear madam.

MAD. L. Thank you, indeed. I must go in-doors. I feel so faint I can scarcely stand. Oh! If I should be too late! (
totters into house; he following and commiserating, then turning and rubbing his hands.
)

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