WRAGGE Tea, dear, as you ordered. I've showed her to her room.
CAPT. W. Stand straight, then.
MRS. W. And Mrs. Juke's kettle was boiling, and she has given us some hot water.
CAPT. W. I'll empty the kettle over you if you don't pull up your shoe! Here's some seed cake, cut it up; the crumpets we'll defer till we see whether the outlay's justified, and cut some bread and butter; get an egg for her; that's right. Now do you sit at the back, and sit straight, do you hear? and as soon as my niece descends---- (they set table for tea, and take seats.)
MAGDALEN enters, D. in F., without mantle or bonnet.
MAGDALEN. l hope I've not detained you?
CAPT. W. Not an instant, my dear child; take that chair, I beg. (MAGDALEN sits at table. MRS. WRAGGE helps her to tea, etc. CAPT. WRAGGE to cake) How do you like your room? I hope Mrs. Wragge's been useful. You take milk and sugar--try local cake--honor the Yorkshire butter--test the freshness in addition of a new and neighboring egg. I offer my little all--a pauper's meal, my child, seasoned with a gentleman's welcome.
MRS. W. (in a reverie). Seasoned with salt, pepper, chives and parsley. (hangs her head.)
CAPT. W. (to her). Sit straight at the table--more to the left--more still. Really, this is very pleasant. I feel quite in the bosom of my family. Whilst you have been upstairs, my mind has not been idle. I have been considering your position with a view exclusively to your own benefit. If you decide on being guided by the light of my experience, that light is at your service. You may naturally say, I know but little of you, Captain, and that little not in your favor. Granted, on condition that I am allowed to tell you something more. False shame is foreign to my nature. You see my wife, my house, my bread, my butter, and my eggs. Exactly as they are, permit me to show myself.
MAG. Well, sir
CAPT. W. We'll come to facts. What am I? If you'll go back to our conversation on the walls of this interesting city, you'll remember you heard I was an impostor; in other words, a swindler. Now don't be shocked--don't be astonished. What is a swindler? Philologically, a word in two short syllables; essentially, a moral agriculturist, a philosopher, who cultivates the field of human sympathy. I am that moral agriculturist, that cultivating man. Narrow-minded mediocrity, envious of my success, calls me a swindler; but what of that? The same low tone of mind calls great writers, scribblers; great generals, butchers. It entirely depends on the point of view. Hear what I have to say for myself in the exercise of my profession. Shall I put it frankly?
MAG. Yes; and I'll tell you frankly what I think of it. (MRS. WRAGGE retires from table with her book, and sits by fireplace, R. U. E, reading it.)
MRS. W. (aside). "Mince small"--that's a teazer, isn't it?
CAPT. W. (to MRS. WRAGGE). Down at the heel again--the right shoe; pull it up. (to MAGDALEN) Now observe. Here am I, a needy object. I will merely ask, then, whether it isn't the duty of the Christian community to assist the needy? If you say no, you simply shock me, and there's an end of the discussion. If you say yes, then I beg to ask why am I to blame for making a Christian community do its duty? You may say, "Is the man who has saved money bound to spend it on him who hasn't?" Of course he is; and why? Because he has got the money, to be sure. All the world over, the man who has not got the thing obtains it from him who has, and mostly on a plea that's a false one. I say, then, to the rich, "What, your pockets full, and you refuse to fill mine that are empty? Sordid wretch! do you think I'll allow you thus to violate the sacred obligations of charity? No--a thousand times I say it--no!"
MRS. W. (rocking her seat). A lump of butter as big as my thumb.
CAPT. W. Sit straight. These are my principles as a moral agriculturist. Am I to blame if the field of human sympathy can't be cultivated in another way? Consult my brother agriculturists. Do they set their crops for the mere asking? No; they must circumvent arid nature, exactly as I circumvent sordid man. They must plough and sow, and top dress, and surface drain, and deep-drain. Why am I, then, to be checked in the vaster occupation of deep-draining mankind?
MRS. W. (repeating). "Turn it over and double it, as soon as it's in the pan."
CAPT. W. Crooked again! Will you never learn a correct attitude?
MAG. Well, sir; and having thus ploughed and sowed, is your Yorkshire crop a rich one?
CAPT. W. It ought to be--it would be--but that after years of successful efforts, the penalties of celebrity are beginning to attach to me. Pausing at this city, on my way from the north, I consult my books, and find the unfortunate initials marking this city, T. W. K.--too well known.
MAG. You consult your books--what books?
CAPT. W. You shall see them: truly delighted with the opportunity of proving that I withhold nothing from you. (rises and goes to bureau, from which he takes memorandum books, with which he returns.)
MRS. W. (aside). I've got it now: put the frying-pan on the dish, and tumble them both over! (puts her hands together and turns them.)
MAG. (aside). This is surely the man I need for the fulfillment of my scheme; a man well used to working in the dark, with endless resources of boldness and cunning; who would hesitate at no mean employment, so to put money in his pocket. Two necessities are plainly before me: that of knowing more of my cousin Noel, and that of throwing him off his guard, by concealing myself during the inquiry. I cannot achieve my end without the aid of another; and is there any aid within my reach but that of this impostor?
CAPT. W. Here is my commercial library. Day-book, ledger-book, book of districts, book of letters. In appearance my system looks complicated; in reality, it is simplicity itself. I merely avoid the errors of inferior practitioners; that is to say, I never plead for myself, and I never apply to rich people. People, with small means have sometimes generous impulses, rich people never.