Black and White

Wilkie Collins


Black and White Page 03

Even a slave can love. (sighs) Ah!

MRS. P. But you have not told me what ails your heart. And how are the men there?

MISS M. The men?

MRS. P. The men. I suppose they do have gentlemen in Paris?

MISS M. I hardly know. They were much about the same as anywhere else. There was only one, indeed, whom I met more frequently than the others in society.

MRS. P. Ah! Mr. Westcraft was not altogether wrong, in fearing the influence of the French gentlemen.

MISS M. Mr. Westcraft! If he does me the discredit of suspecting me before marriage, he will do well not to have my hand at all. I can easily refuse him.

MRS. P. Then you do love a French gentleman? Poor heart! Come, what was the French gentleman like?

MISS M. You wouldn't like me to let you suppose I accepted him as a suitor? Pshaw! he was of high rank, fashionable, moving in the same society as myself, and so we danced together, and we saw each other. I met him everywhere--it was Fate! it was Fate that brought us together! No one can resist his fate! It was certainly strange. It was not my fault! How you look at me! (MRS. P. smiles) Don't you understand me? (rises) I wish I was dead! (sadly) Do you understand that? (to L. and return to C. with emotion.)

MRS. P. (R. C. up, quietly smiling to herself). So you completely forgot Mr. Westcraft?

MISS M. Who said so? Have I ever loved Mr. Westcraft?

MRS. P. I don't know. On what terms did you part with the French gentleman?

MISS M. (affectedly light tone). As the best friends in the world. But I remembered Mr. Westcraft. On the eve of my departure, my new acquaintance wished to know how he might renew the pleasure I had given him. (R. C., Mrs. PENFOLD to C.) I had in tell him that I was going back to the Island of Trinidad, where he would have to come for it. "When shall I come?" asked he, in the most matter-of-fact of tones. "Oh, you may come to my birthday fête, on my plantation, on New Year's Day," said I. (pretended careless tone) He took out his pocket-book, and wrote that down as business-like as possible--and--(embarrassed) we shook hands, and he smiled, and I laughed, and there's an end on't! (faint forced laugh.)

Enter, L. U. E., frowning with annoyance, WESTCRAFT to C. WEST. (aside, coming down C.). She is not in the ball-room. I'll swear to that. (aloud) Oh, there you are! This is a pretty way of treating the man with whom you are engaged for the next dance!

MISS M. I am not well.

WEST. Not well? Plaguey awkward, when they're forming for the next dance. (bites his lips, etc., in suspicious impatience.)

MISS M. I must retire for repose.

MRS. P. I'll go with you, dear. (aside to MISS M.) I have not heard all the story. (MISS MILBURN rings bell on table, L. C., and goes towards L. D., followed by MRS. PENFOLD.

MISS M. (aside to MRS. P.). Not now. (GIRL opens L. D.)

MRS. P. At least, what is his name? (MISS MILBURN turns to whisper to her.)

SERVANT enters, L. U. E. to D. F. SERVANT. The Count de Leyrac! (MISS MILBURN starts and turns. Chord.)

Enter, L. U. E. to C.. MAURICE DE LEYRAC. LEYRAC salutes the LADIES and comes dawn a little, C. Music of Waltz, piano. Exit GIRL, L. D. LEY. Eh! I have not made any mistake? This is New Year's Day, 1830. This is the Island of Trinidad. This is Miss Milburn's birthday party. (recognizes MISS MILBURN, salutes her profoundly respectfully) Excuse me, but surely you have not forgotten the appointment you did me the honor of making. (MISS MILBURN takes his hand.)

[Exit SERVANT, L. U. E.

LEY. I beg to apologize if my costume is not quite correct, but the ship entered the harbor only an hour ago. (cease music.)

MISS M. I beg to apologize, you so surprised me. I did not ho--hope--believe you were in earnest.

LEY. Never more so in all my life!

WEST. (to MISS MILBURN). Who is this?

LEY. (turns and eyes WESTCRAFT steadily. They look at each other). Ah! a member of the family, no doubt? (MISS MILBURN whispers with MRS. PENFOLD animatedly, both glancing at LEYRAC) Most happy to know you, sir. Would you like to shake hands with me? (WESTCRAFT comes to his left during this, to place himself between LEYRAC and MISS MILBURN) You are her brother? No? Her uncle, of course!

WEST. (curtly) No! nothing of the sort. (MRS. PENFOLD laughs faintly, and WESTCRAFT gives her an angry look.)

LEY. How stupid of me! Her cousin? (WESTCRAFT raises his hand passionately to strike LEYRAC, who grasp it, and forces him to shake hands with him) Delighted to make your acquaintance. Ah! it has been the one dream of my life to look upon your superb island. I know all about it, as far as reading will teach. Your productions are as numerous as valuable; indigo, liquorice, sugar, cotton, cochineal, dyestuffs, oranges, limes, cocoa, pineapples, and I know not what else. I shall be most happy to be your guest. (to MISS MILBURN) I like your island, I like your cousin! I like his rich-brown face. I feel assured that I shall be delighted here, with such a pilot (to WESTCRAFT, bowing) to the countless beauties.

WEST. I do not doubt your assurance, Mr. Frenchman, but I do doubt that you will see much of this island if I am to show it you.

LEY. (fiercely.) Ah! (politely). I am very sorry to hear of such a loss of anticipated pleasure

WEST. (contemptuously). All very well, but fine words butter no parsnips. (turns to go up R.)

LEY. (puzzled). Fine words butter no parsnips? Oh! more productions of this superb island! Fine words--butter--parsnips! Indigo, liquorice, sugar, cotton, cochineal, dye-stuffs, oranges, limes, cocoa, pineapples, fine words, butter, parsnips. (laughs.)

MRS. P. and MISS M. (laugh at WESTCRAFT). Ha, ha, ha!

LEY. Why this is the earthly paradise! (bows to MRS. P. and MISS M., who take seats, L. C.) and you the angels that inhabit it. (ladies return the salute, smiling).

Enter, L. U. E. to C., LADY. LADY (to WESTCRAFT). Are you coming? (LEYRAC bends over back of MISS MILBURN'S chair, to chat with her.)

WEST. (to LADY). Wait a moment. (to LEYRAC) If you have got anything to say to Miss Milburn, don't whisper to her, but speak out.

Wilkie Collins

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Charles Darwin