The Waiter (to VENDALE). Any more orders, sir.
Vendale. No more orders.
Obenreizer. Yes! one more order! Bring some of the best brandy you have in the house. (The WAITER goes out.) The cold is piercing, in spite of all the fire we can make here. A little brandy will do neither of us any harm.
Vendale. I am afraid it will be bad brandy in such a place as this.
Obenreizer. Our flasks are empty—bad brandy is better than none. (The WAITER enters with brandy and two wine-glasses on a tray.) Put it here.
(The WAITER puts the tray on the table near the door.)
Vendale. (to the WAITER). Have you got your orders for the morning? (The WAITER crosses to VENDALE. OBENREIZER, with his back towards them, drugs a glass of brandy at the table. VENDALE continues to the WAITER.) Do the guides know that we want them for crossing the mountain?
The Waiter. Yes, sir.
Vendale. You are to call us early, mind.
The Waiter. At four o’clock, sir?
Vendale. At four o’clock. (The WAITER goes out. OBENREIZER crosses with the drugged brandy to VENDALE.)
Obenreizer. You are a judge of these things. Try it, and tell me. (VENDALE drinks the brandy.) Bad, I’m afraid?
Vendale. It has a coarse after-flavour. I don’t like it!
Obenreizer. (taking the glass from him). There is a little still left in the glass. I’ll try it next. (Puts the glass to his lips.) Booh! It burns! Vile bad brandy; as you say! (Throws the rest into the fire.)
Vendale. The time is getting on, isn’t it? Look at your watch; mine has stopped.
Obenreizer. The time is getting on! We must get what rest we can. One word before I leave you. When you are travelling, do you lock your door at night?
Vendale. Not I! I sleep too soundly.
Obenreizer. You sleep so soundly? What a blessing!
Vendale. Anything but a blessing to the rest of the house, if they had to knock me up from the outside of the door! If the waiter comes in and wakes me, I shall not disturb the other people in the inn.
Obenreizer. I understand. I leave my room open also. But let me advise you one thing. I am a Swiss who knows. When you travel in my country, always put your papers—and your money also, of course—under your pillow. Always under your pillow!
Vendale. You are not complimentary to your countrymen!
Obenreizer. My countrymen are like the majority of men. The majority of men will take what they can get. Adieu! At four in the morning.
(Exit.)
Vendale. (rising from the sofa and mending the fire). My travelling-companion is a strange fellow. And the strangest part of him is—what he said just now about his early life. I fancy I can guess, for the first time, what poor Wilding wanted with him. It seems wonderful now that the thing never struck me before. The adopted child was taken to Switzerland, as we know. Obenreizer is Wilding’s age. Obenreizer doubts if his parents were his parents. Obenreizer speaks English with so little accent, that English might have been the first language he learnt. Is the lost man now sleeping in the next room to me? (Takes a turn on the stage.) My head feels heavy—the effect of the cold, I suppose? (Puts more wood on the fire, and crouches over it, warming himself.) Poor Wilding’s last wishes are sacred to me. His whole fortune is left to the missing man—and that man is not found yet. I’ll question Obenreizer more closely! (Paces the stage once more.) My head feels heavier and heavier. That bad brandy is affecting me already, no doubt. Foolish of me to drink even the little I did. (Stops, pursuing the former train of thought.) Suppose it turns out that Obenreizer is the missing man? Should I like him to be the real Wilding? I get on very well with him, but I should hardly like that. Should I like him to be rich? No—he has influence enough over Marguerite as it is, and wealth might give him more. (A pause, his head sinks on his breast—he rouses himself by an effort.) What am I thinking of? Ought any likings or dislikings of mine to stand between me and the discharge of my duty to my dead friend? No! Come what may of it, that duty shall be done. To-morrow—when my head is clearer—I’ll think of it again. (Goes to the window and looks out, closes the shutter, and returns to the sofa.) I’m in bad condition for crossing the mountain. My legs feel weary, only with walking about the room. (Stretches himself on the sofa.) An hour’s rest will put me right—the sofa is nearest the fire. I feel sleep coming on me—I’ll stop here. (Closes his eyes. For a few moments nothing happens on the stage; then the candles go out suddenly in their sockets. The firelight is left in the room. In a moment more the heavy latch on the inner side of the door is raised softly. The door opens by an inch at a time, and OBENREIZER steals in. He wears nothing but his trousers and his flannel shirt. The collar of the shirt is thrown open, and the sleeves are turned up to the elbows. Advancing towards the bed, his foot strikes against the table. VENDALE starts up and rushes across the stage to him.)
Vendale. What now? Who is it?
Obenreizer. (surprised and seizing him by the shoulders). Not in bed yet! Then something is wrong!
Vendale. (releasing himself). What do you mean?
Obenreizer. First tell me—are you ill?
Vendale. Ill? No.
Obenreizer. I have had a bad dream about you. I tried to rest after it, but it was impossible. I was anxious to know you were safe—and yet I was afraid you would laugh at me! I have been minutes hesitating at the door—I have at last come in. You satisfy me that my dream was a dream—shall I leave you again? My fire has gone the way of your candles. Do you wish to sleep?
Vendale. I was sleepy enough before you came in. The surprise seems to have roused me. Stop here, and keep me company—and welcome.
Obenreizer. Ah! it was a bad dream! I thought you were ill—I thought I had a wrestle with a robber. You see I was stripped for it?
Vendale. (pointing to a dagger in the belt round OBENREIZER’S waist). And armed too, I see?
Obenreizer. A traveller’s dagger that I always carry on the road. Do you carry no such thing?
Vendale. Nothing of the kind.
Obenreizer. (moving towards the bed and looking at the pillow). And no pistols?
Vendale. (lying back drowsily on the sofa). No arms of any sort.
Obenreizer. You Englishmen are so confident! (Feels under the pillow, and continues aside.) The receipt is not there. Has he got it about him?
Vendale. Where are you?
Obenreizer. (approaching the sofa). I am here.
Vendale. (more and more drowsily). I had something I wanted to ask you. I intended to ask it to-morrow. Why not now?
Obenreizer. Why not, if you can remember it?
Vendale.