Oh, sir! I am afraid we have disturbed you.
Wilding. You have not disturbed me. I can’t rest; I can’t compose myself. Every day I live, I am doing a new injustice to the man whose place I have taken, whose fortune I have got. Nobody helps me—nobody tries to find him!
Sally. Mr. Bintrey will try, sir. He told me to say so, a minute since.
Wilding. Mr. Bintrey will put it off—Mr. Bintrey doesn’t see this as I see it—Mr. Bintrey suspects people, without reason. (Walking apart, and speaking to himself.) Obenreizer is the man! I think of it by day; I dream of it by night; and all my thoughts and all my dreams point the same way—Obenreizer is her son! (Returning to SALLY.) Sally!—may I call you Sally, for the sake of old times, when I was a boy?
Sally. Oh yes, sir! Try and be like what you were in the old times. You were always patient when you were a boy. Try and be patient now!
Wilding. Yes! yes! Something happened to me, Sally, a day or two since. Did I faint? Or—was it a fit? Tell me—I want to know!
Sally. It was a fit, sir.
Wilding. Ah! and there was a strange feeling in my head before it came on. Is it coming again? Sally! There is somebody whom I want to see—somebody whom I must see, before the day is out.
Sally. Not now, sir! Wait till you are stronger!
Wilding. (aside). My time may be short. I must, and will, speak to Obenreizer! (To SALLY.) Where is Mr. Vendale?
Sally. He left word, I think, sir, that he had gone to Mr. Obenreizer’s.
Wilding. To be sure! His heart is set on that pretty young lady, Sally—he has gone to propose for her. My dear good George! I am well enough still to feel all my old interest in his happiness! Send to Mr. Obenreizer’s, Sally—say I want to see them both; Mr. Obenreizer and Mr. Vendale. (Aside.) George doesn’t distrust him as Bintrey does—George will help me.
Sally. You are not fit to see them, sir.
Wilding. I insist on seeing them!
Sally. If I do send, will you promise to go back to your room, and try to compose yourself?
Wilding. Yes! yes! Do it.
Sally (opening the door for him to go in). It shall be done, sir.
Wilding. Thank you! You have relieved my mind. (Stops and turns round at the door.) You are very little altered, Sally, since the old times. Mr. Obenreizer says the world is so small that the same people are always crossing each other in it again and again. Here are you and I together once more. It seems as if I was coming round again to the Foundling to die.
Sally. You are not going to die, dear Mr. Wilding!
Wilding. Send where I told you.
(He goes into the room.)
Sally (alone). It’s a risk, I’m afraid, in his state. But I have promised to do it—and I must!
(She goes out at the side.)
THIRD SCENE.—The Cellars at Cripple Corner. Heavy growths of red-tinged fungus hang from the vaulted roof. Casks of all sizes occupy the place. Above and between the casks are deep, dark recesses, used as “bins” for the bottled wine. A ray of daylight streams down through the entrance, which communicates by steps with the court-yard above. Heavy stone pillars support the roof. The darkness, except where the daylight falls, is dimly illuminated, here and there, by a lamp. In some places the obscurity is complete. JOEY LADLE is discovered occupied with his measuring rod and his cellar book, measuring spaces, and making entries. He finds his way from one place to another by the help of his cellar lamp. The lamp gives a flickering and uncertain light. While JOEY is still absorbed in his work, VENDALE appears at the entrance above, descends slowly into the cellar, and advances to the front.
Vendale. I can’t find it in my heart to go into the house. I should vex poor Wilding if I told him what has happened between Obenreizer and me. My own spirits are depressed by the interview, now that the excitement of it is over. Can I do what I said I would do in the heat of the moment? Can I double the value of this business in a year’s time? I don’t know—I can settle to nothing to-day. I have been wandering about the streets without aim or object. And here I am, as restless as ever, wandering about the cellars, I don’t know why. (Notices JOEY.) Oh! you’re here, are you, Joey?
Joey. Oughtn’t it rather to go, “Oh! you’re here, are you, Master George?” It’s my business to be here—but it ain’t yourn.
Vendale. Don’t grumble, Joey!
Joey. Oh! I don’t grumble. If anything grumbles, it’s what I’ve took in through the pores—it ain’t me. Have a care as something in you don’t begin a-grumbling, Master George. Stop here long enough for the Wapours to work, and they’ll be at it. Yes; they’ll be at it—trust ’em. (Turning away to go on with his work.) And so you’ve regularly come into the business, Master George?
Vendale. I hope you don’t object, Joey?
Joey. I don’t, bless you! But Wapours objects that you and your partner are both on you too young. You and young Master Wilding have been and changed the name of the firm. If you’d been old enough to know better, you wouldn’t have done that. Mark my words! You’ve changed the luck of the firm—and you’ll find it out!
Vendale. Pooh! nonsense!
Joey. “Pooh”’s easy said—and “nonsense” follows it naterally enough! I ain’t been down here all my life for nothing. I know, by what I notices down here, when it’s a-going to rain, when it’s a-going to hold up, when it’s a-going to blow, when it’s a-going to be calm. I know, by what I notices down here, when the luck’s changed, quite as well!
Vendale. (holding up his lamp to the fungus on the roof). Has this hideous-looking growth anything to do with your divination? We are famous for the fungus in this vault, are we not?
(Takes up the measuring rod, and moves the fungus backwards and forwards, slowly.)
Joey (stepping back). We are, Master George. If you’ll be advised by me, you’ll let that alone!
Vendale. Ay, indeed? Why?
Joey. For three good reasons, Master George.
Vendale. Let’s hear them! First reason, for letting the fungus alone——?
Joey. Because it rises from the casks of wine, and you had better not know what sort of stuff a cellarman takes into himself when he walks in the same all the days of his life.
Vendale. (still moving the fungus). Second reason?
Joey. Because at a stage of its growth it’s maggots—and you might fetch ’em down upon you.
Vendale. (starting). Is it maggots there?
Joey. Not that one, Master George. That one’s growed out of the maggots. (VENDALE once more moves the fungus.) I wouldn’t keep on touchin’ it, sir, if I was you!
Vendale. Why not?
Joey. For the third reason, Master George, which I haven’t mentioned yet.
Vendale.