Northwester r i
University Library
Evanston,
Illinois 60201
Lynn's Acting EniTioi^No. XX
\
v
w-'. ■
A Drama, in One Act, from the German of
Max GUuue.
BY
VGUSTAV HEIN.
83208
G885SX
- j •
The Fee for each Performance of this Piece is Haif¬
a-Guinea, and the License to Play, must be obtained
from Mr. NEVILLE LYNN, a clear week before the
proposed date of acting, on application to his Sole
Dramatic Agents :
CAPPER & NEWTON; 62, Strand, London.
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WRECKAGE.
Dramatis Persome.
David Tregarnon ... ... A Fisherman
Susan Tregarnon ... ... His Daughter
Jasper Lantrigg ... ... A Cripple
Ai Shipwrecked Sailor
Play, Forty Minutes.
PLAN OF SET,
Beaoh background
is
o
13
Door opening
upon beach
J I 1"
Fireplace
Door leading to
inner room
1_!
O Table
and
Chair
Recess con¬
cealed by Sail
OL
Bench and Stools
"o
O.P. P.
« * Q * -S O =*
PROSCENIUM OPENING.
Scene.-A Fisherman's Hut, near a hamlet, on the
Cornish Coast.
WRECKAGE.
(Interior of a rude fisherman's hut, with low roof, and
poorly furnished, hut clean and tidy. Two doors t'., iw
communicating with the beach, the other leading to an inner
room. Open fireplace between doors. Window E., in front
of it r., henry table ; wooden bench and stools, l.C. ,• a recess
shut off by an old sail; Cupboard in ivall, l. The setting
sun casts its beams into the room.)
Susan (has finished sweeping fioor of hut with a broom):
Now then, at any rate, when they come to turn us out to
morrow they will find everything clean and in order. They
shan't say I have not made the best of our poor home—no,
that they shan't. But I cannot believe that we shall really
have to go. It is too hard. And where are we to go ?
Surely they might have left us this poor shelter. I do hope
father has been able to get a little time. How long he has
been gone. And there's going to be a storm ere long. How
red the sun is setting, and there isn't a breath of wind. It
feels stifling—(opens window.)—and the little white clouds
are beginning to gather. Heaven keep father, and send him
home before the gale rises.
Jasper (comes from recess l., old and lame, with crutch and
stick ; left leg crippled): Isn't David back yet? Don't you hear
me ? Isn't he back ?
Susan : No ; you'd have heard him, if he'd come,
Jasper (querulously) : I was sleeping. I daresay } ou
grudge me the few minutes I sleep. It's the only time I'm
quit of my pain, and yet I'm grudged it. (Short pause.
Opens cupboard, -l.) Bah ! The bottle's empty. Of course.
Don't you hear ? The bottle's empty.
Susan : You know that as well as I do. It has been empty
for a week. If that were all the trouble—
Jasper: Of course. Everything is empty in this place.
54
WRECKAGE.
Nothing in the bottle ! nothing in the cupboard ! no rum I
no baccy ! A pretty pass things have come to with David
Tregarnon. Can you see any sign of the boat yet ?
Susan: There's going to be a storm, Jasper.
Jasper-. You needn't tell me that. Haven't I felt it in my
blasted leg since yesterday ? If the storm breaks while he's
at sea in that cockle-shell craft of his, he'd stand a poor
chance. It just wants that. Where should I be, I wonder,
if David Tregarnon went to Davy Jones's locker?
Susan : Heaven forbid ! But you—you never think of
anyone except yourself.
Jasper : Well, it doesn't make much difference. Even if
he gets home with a safe skin, it's a hundred to one he has
done no good by his errand ; and to-morrow we will be
beggars. It is just as sure as that that storm will be on us
to-night. (The ruddy light through window is darkened.')
To-morrow I say, we will be turned adrift ; and then what's
to become of me, I want to know ?
Susan : Heaven only knows what is to become of all of us.
Jasper : Oh, you needn't be frightened. You have whole
bones, you have. You can work. But what can I do—a
poor crippled devil like me, and all through—
Susan : There's father at last. He's coming.
Jasper : Well, it's a good job. We've been wasting our
breath over nothing. His boat must have been in a while
ago. But he has got no delay, and has been ashamed to come
home. Just like him.
(David Tregarnon enters sad and downcast. Nods,
and walks slowly to table. Sits down on bench. Short
pause. Wind rising outside).
Jasper : You've got back at last, David. How did the
boat behave ?
David: The boat went like a beauty—on her last trip.
Susan : Did you get any time, father ?
David (despondinghj) : Time ? Not a day.
Jasper (bitterly) : Yah ! Didn't I tell you so ? I've heard
talk of monsters in the water—sharks and octopuses and
sea-sarpints. The octopus, with his hundred arms; when
he got anything in his grip, he never let go, he didn't. And
they say these yarns were all moonshine, and there never
WRECKAGE.
55
wasjno such things. Weren't there ? Aren't there ? Ho,
ho The only difference is they're on shore now. The
sea-sarpint is the law, and your creditors are the octopus,
and the bailiffs '11 tear the flesh from your bones as clean as
any shark, and that you 11 find, David Tregarnon. Ha! Ha 1
Ha !
{David groans, hides his head in his hands, with his
elbows on table!)
Susan (putting her arms round him): Father, dear Father !
Jasper: And what's to become of me, David ? You didn't
bargain for this I suppose, you never looked forward to this
when you made a cripple of me for life. If my boy had only
been alive, I needn't have cared. (Violent gust of wind drives
to window casement, breaks pane of glass.) Hallo, there's
another pane gone. Well, what does it matter to us? But
perhaps they'll be down on you to-morrow for the broken
glass. I daresay you can't pay for it, and you'll have to
make good the damage somehow, you know.
David: They'll be down on me? You've badgered me
long enough, jasper Lantrig. Best hold your tongue, now.
Jasper : Hold my tongue. Oh, of course. I don't want
to yell above that din outside. (The storm has burst in full
violence.) Lord how it rattles. Don't you remember, David,
it was just such another night as this when I was fool enough
to cripple myself on your account. (Thunder and lightning,
and the report of a gun at seal)
David: A ship in distress.
Susan: Yes ; it's out there on the reef.
Jasper : There's another gun. (Ship's alarm bell is heard
tolling rapidly hi the distance. David rises silently. Susan
helps him put on his oilskins, and hands him his "sou'wester,
ropes, and boathooh).
Jasper : Ho, ho ! It's all up with her. If that craft doesn't
go to pieces, I'm a Dutchman. Hurrah! There'll be
wreckage. I only hope she has a decent cargo. Hurry up,
David. They're manning the boat by this time. 1 only
hope you won't be too late, as usual. If you've any luck
you may pick up something that will help you to buy back
your house and your boat.
David: Goodbye.
Susan: Father! Do be careful.
David: God keep you {Exit).
56
WRECKAGE.
Jasper: God keep us ! That's very fine talking. But if
He had wished, He might have helped us before we came to
this. Bah 1 how it blows. A storm like this seems to put
fire into my old blood. I wonder what that craft has got on
board. Just a score o' years ago, after a gale like this, I
fished up a fine haul myself. A large bale of silk, it was,—
pure silk. And they had it packed so carefully, bless 'em,
whoever they had been, there was not a drop of water on it.
Fifty quid I got for that morning's work. I only wish I had
'em now Ah, well, who knows ? If David only had
any luck, he might lay his hands to-night on some bit of
stuff that would pull us through.
Susan : And you have no thought of the poor wretches on
board. You only think of the miserable salvage money.
Jasper : Salvage money be darned 1 I wasn't thinking of
anything o' the kind. That's another of their rotten new¬
fangled notions. No salVage for me. What the sea throws
up to me, that's mine. At any rate, that was the way on this
coast for many a hundred year ere I was born, and it is quite
good enough for me. Old ways are good ways, that's my
motto. Ugh ! how the wind whistles. If I could only get
to the beach and try my luck. But it's no good ; I'm an old
useless hulk, with no chance of getting anything.
Susan : I will light the fire, and put on some soup, that
father may have something hot when he comes back.
Jasper: Oh, well. I'm not hungry. But you go ahead
and light the fire. It's getting cold enough now, anyway.
And suppose I tell you a little story to pass the time.
Susan : Ah ! I know your story. It is not the first time
I have heard it by many.
Jasper : It will do youmo harm to hear it again. What else
can one do in this wilderness than spin old yarns ? And it's
a true one. Ay, mind you, it's a true one. 'Twas just such
a storm as is blowing to-night. But we didn't mind it then,
not a bit. We were having a rare blow-out at my house.
'Twas my poor boy's christening day. What a spree we did
have 1 It does me good to think of it even at this time o'
day. Jan Tregoose was dancing a hornpipe, and we were all
a-laughin'and a-singin', when David Tregarnon comes tearin'
in, and shouts out that the " Lively Polly " had been torn
from her moorings and was drifting out to sea. She was the
best of your father's boats—he owned four then—and I was
h.er skipper. Out we all rushed in the twinkling of a hand¬
spike, and there, sure enough, was the " Lively Polly " broke
WRECKAGE.
57
loose, and dancing on the waves like a cork. David was as
wild as could be. He pitched into me hammer and tongs ;
said it was all my fault, I hadn't moored her fast : she was his
best boat, and my carelessness would be the ruin of him.
Nat'rally my dander got up. He said he'd make me pay for
it. I said I'd see him blowed first. An' while we were
quarrellin' and near hand comin' to hard knocks instead
of hard words, the " Lively Polly " got somehow lifted up by
a wave, and thrown right on to a rock about a hundred yards
from where we were standing. " Now's your chance," said
David to me, He throws me a rope, and tells me to swim
out and make the boat fast to it, so that he and the rest may
haul her in. "Don't try it, it's certain death," said the
others ; but David—he taunted me and egged me on to do it,
and I, like the darned fool that I was, was too proud to
refuse. I rush into the water, the waves beat up into my
face, but I hold on right through them till I almost reach the
boat where she's lying as comfortable as if she were on the
beach ; and then, just as I am going to make fast the rope,
there comes a big wave, lifts the boat high up in the air, and
dashes her right on the top of me, squashing me as flat as a
pancake. The ebb of the same wave throws the boat back
on to the rock, and the next lifts me up again and pitches me
on the shore, right at your father's feet. At least, that's what
they told me afterwards, for I was as insensible as a log, and
they carried me home for dead. But I wasn't dead, no such
luck. It was my poor wife that dropped stone dead when
she saw them bring me in, and they told her that I was
a corpse. But they must patch me up again—a cripple for
life. Why the devil couldn't they have let me die ?
Susan: And then father took you into his house, and has
kept you ever since,
Jasper; Of course he did. How could he help it?
Wasn't it to serve him I got lamed ? And the worst of it
was that it was all for no use, for we never saw the " Lively
Polly" again, That was the beginning of the ill-luck—only
the beginning. Soon another of your father's boats was lost,
and then David Tregarnon's reputation as a skipper fell off
by degrees. Things got worse every day, till at last his snug
cottage was sold, and we came, with his last boat, to live in
this dog-hole of a place. And even this comes to an end
to-moriow. I wonder if you'll have anything left at all to
grudge me then.
Susan : I have never grudged you anything; but I do
think you might do a little work sometimes, instead of loafing
about all day long and grumbling at father.
WRECKAGE.
Jasper: Work! Mend nets, I suppose. No, thanks, not
for me ; that's woman's work. I've worked enough for David
Tregarnon. If only he had left me my poor boy.
Susan; It wasn't father that sent him away. You know
that well enough. 'Twas himself wanted to go.
Jasper: Of course he wanted, after David had stuffed his
head full of yarns and long-winded stories of voyages and
loot, and China and Africa, and the Lord knows what more.
Naturally the lad got restless, and wouldn't stop here any
more. My poor boy 1 (The storm outside has gradually abated.).
Most likely he went to the bottom in a gale like to-night's.
You were but a toddling youngster when he left. I think I
see him yet, standing in the rigging, the wind playing with
his yellow curls, an<J the ends of his scarf floating round his
head. I've never seen so smart a sailor since. Ah ! I'll
never see him again, my poor lad. He's lost, poor boy—
lost 1 It's twelve years now since he went away.
Susan (putting her hand on his) : Poor Jasper 1 But many
a sailor given up for lost has turned up again after all, you
know.
Jasper (despondently) : Not after twelve years.
Susan : Hark 1 That's father's step.
Jasper : He walks as if he were carrying something heavy.
Hullo, David ! what have you got there ?
David (enters, carrying the apparently lifeless body of a young
sailor) : Here—lend a hand, and see if he'll come to. I don't
think he's quite dead. (Lays him down in front of fire.)
Susan : Heaven preserve us ! Poor young fellow ! •
David: Bring some blankets and wraps, quick ! (Takes
off the sailor's jacket and puts it on the door. Susan and Jasper
bring rugs, blankets, and coverlets.)
Susan: He seems to breathe !
David (more cheerfully) : He has hardly swallowed any
water, It's only a fainting fit.
Susan : Are all the others saved ?
Jasper (standing in the batltground, while Susan and her
father try to revive the sailor, mutters): Nice catch this
bringing us another mouth to feed.
Susan : Are all the others saved, father ?
David (still busy with the body): Yes ; but the good ship is
gone, smashed up into matchwood. The others got ashore
WRECKAGE.
59
in their boat, lamenting over this chap, who was missing.
The best sailor of them all, they said. He had been washed
overboard and drowned. They're all down in the village
inn now. On my way home, I found this one lying on the
sands below there. There was nobody to give me a hand
with him, and our cottage was the nearest, so I managed to
carry him here. Now cover him up, face and all. He's
beginning to get warm already. Wet clothes and dry
blankets—nothing like 'em for bringing round a chap that's
got half-drowned.
Jasper; If it were me, rather than waste time trying to
bring drowned men to life, I'd go back and get some of the
wreckage, before the others have carried it all away. Pity
I'm such a cripple, or I'd ha' gene myself.
David; You're right, Jasper.
Susan : Won't you take a mouthful to eat first, father ?
David: No ; I may as well be off. Jasper will give me no
peace till I do. Goodbye. (Exit.)
Jasper (shouts after him) : Bring something better worth
the carrying next time !
Susan (bending over the sailor) ; If we had only a drop of
brandy for the poor fellow when he wakes up.
Jasper: Oh, you know well enough the bottle's empty.
Susan; Man! have you no feeling at all ? Can't you go
and fetch some from the village ?
Jasper: A fine story ! How am 1 to pay for it, they'll
give us no more tick at the inn ?
Susan : They will surely help a poor shipwrecked sailor,
if you tell them who it is for.
Jasper: Oh, you want me to go a-begging, do you ? Not
me—not till to-morrow, any way. Then, I s'pose I'll have
to begin in earnest.
Susan: Here then, take this ; and get money for it.
(Takes a little silver cross from her breast.)
Jasper: Shiver my timbers ! What's that? You might
have given us this long ago. (Takes up empty bottle and goes
towards door.)
Susan : For heaven's sake, don't stand talking there ! And
hurry back.
Jasper: I hurry ! With this leg. Agh 1 I suppose I
must try—well, I'm off. (Exit.)
60
WRECKAGE.
Susan : How heartless Jasper has grown ! He never even
looked at this poor fellow lying here. My dead mother in
heaven will forgive me for parting with her little cross. But
I fear I have been very stupid. I should have gone for the
brandy myself. Before Jasper comes back he may— Per¬
haps I had better go now and overtake him. But no—if
this poor fellow should wake up, and his eyes not light upon
some friendly face, he might lose heart and faint away again.
(Lights small lamp, and holds it over the prostrate sailor.)
What a handsome lad he is ! And what a good honest face
tool Ah! he stirs—(pause.) Well, do you feel better?
Do you think you could raise yourself a little ? Let me help
you.
Sailor (looks around him, bewildered): Am I dreaming ?
Where am I ?
Susan : Rescued—safe. You are among friends.
Satlor : Ah, yes. I am rescued—and the others ?
Susan : All saved.
Sailor: All saved ? Thank heaven ! And what has be¬
come of the " Black-Eyed Susan ? "
Susan : How—Susan ? Ah, that is the name of your
ship. I'm afraid she is gone.
Sailor : Gone ? My bonny Susan ?
Susan : Yes. Smashed to matchwood, father says.
Sailor : Smashed to matchwood. Well, it is the will of
Providence ; and thank God, the men are safe 1 Yet
(pathetically) it is a great pity, for she was a fine ship—a
sound, honest boat as ever swam. Not a bad nail or a rotten
plank in her, A regular beauty she was. Ah, well, she's
gone now, my bonny " Susan," Don't laugh at me, my lass,
for a sailor loves his ship as a woman does the home that
shelters her ar.d those dear to her. His heart clings to her
as to a trusty friend. You could not bear to leave your
home here without your heart aching, could you now? But
what's the matter, you are crying ?
Susan: Oh ! it's nothing.
Sailor: Have I offended you ? What have I said ? I
didn't mean to, indeed. Do forgive me, please.
Susan: I know it is childish of me, but I can't help it. I
see so few people, and you called up painful thoughts. When
you talked of leaving the house a lump seemed to come into
my throat. Oh, I can't bear it, and I have nobody to open
my heart to—nobody in the whole world.
WRECKAGE.
61
Sailor: Don't say that. You have just saved my life.
Try to believe that in me Providence has sent you a mes¬
senger of comfort. Let me share your grief. Whether I
can do anything to remove it or not, you may depend on my
goodwill and sympathy ; and perhaps I may be able to help
in some way.
Susan : How kind you are ? Nobody has spoken like that
to me since mother died. She died just after we came to
this cottage. Before that we used to live on the opposite
coast. It is a long time ago. Almost since ever I remem¬
ber we have lived in this hut. It is but a poor place, as
you see, but I have grown to love it. But father's been very
unfortunate, and now—to-morrow—our house is to be sold.
That's why I couldn't help crying when you spoke of leaving.
What am I to do then ? Serve among strangers? I might
even bear that, but poor father is old, and it will break his
heart. (Sods.)
Sailor: Serve among strangers! You! Impossible!
You are not fit for that—so young and tender—and what
could your father do without you ? Much better make some
honest sailor happy for life.
Susan: I have no heart now to think of these things.
When father was better off, all the young fellows used to
speak kindly to me, and often came to chat with father of an
evening, but for the last two years not one has come near
us.
Sailor: The mean skunks ! It doesn't say much for their
taste. If they could only see how gently and carefully you
tend a poor shipwrecked tar !
Susan: It is no more than my duty.
Sailor: Don't say that! I could hear everything, though
I couldn't speak as I was lying there half dead. Your gentle
voice was like music after the howling of the storm.
Susan : You heard.
Sailor : And then, when I looked up and saw your face,
it seemed to warm my chilled heart like a beam of sunshine.
Susan : Pray don't speak like that. And don't try to rise
yet. You see you are still much too weak. Here, eat a
little. I'd like to offer you a drop of something to revive
you, I have sent—
Sailor: Yes, I know. I heard everything, and I know
that you have sacrificed a cherished jewel for me.
62
WRECKAGE.
Susan: It was of little value, but it was my mother's.
Sailor : Who was it you sent ?
Susan : Oh, don't ask about him. He—I don't like to say
anything hard of anyone, but he is the cause of a great deal
of our hardship. But then, to be sure, he has gone through
a deal of hardship himself, and his misfortunes have made
him selfish.
Sailor: You are too good to find excuses for him. It's
curious, but somehow his voice seemed sort of familiar. As
I was lying there, half dazed, I couldn't help thinking I had
heard it before. But it was your voice I listened for. It
seemed to soothe me, as if I were lying on the warm sea-sand
and the little waves were playing gently round me. And it
does me good, too, to look into your eyes. Will you tell
me your name—if I don't make too bold ? ,
Susan : Susan.
Sailor : Susan ! The same as my good ship. I love that
name. When I was a lad at home, I had a little playmate
called Susan. A dear little infant; but she must be a big
Susan by this time. And your name is Susan, too. Ah,
well 1 I shall sail for home to-morrow, and see whether my
old father is still alive. Pray Heaven he is ; for I'm afraid
I've been sadly neglectful of him these years past. And
then, Susan, what would you say if I were to come back
here ? I am beginning to tire of drifting back and fore over
the earth, and should like to cast anchor in some snug port
—buy a boat and build a cottage. For I have saved some¬
thing, Susan. You must know I have not sailed all over the
world for nothing.
Susan : But your ship is wrecked, with all your belongings.
Sailor : No fear. I took good care of that. Feel in the
lining of my jacket here. That's three hundred pounds in
good Bank of England notes, sewed tightly up in oilclothl
Susan : Three hundred pounds !
Sailor : Ay, three hundred pounds. Quite enough to settle
down upon, isn't it ? Come, Susan, what would you say to a
wooer like me ?
Susan : What should I say ? But it is wicked to talk
nonsense like this when Providence has just saved you by a
miracle. You are feverish and excited, and far from strong
yet. You must try to sleep again, and to-morrow we will
have another talk, Besides my father will be here
WRECKAGE.
63
to-morrow. No, don't say any more just now. If you do
really eare for me at all, leave me to myself just now, and
rest a little if you can.
Sailor : You're right, perhaps. Anyway, I will obey you.
Not because I still feel weak, but because you ask me. But
to-morrow you will have to listen to me.
Susan : That's right. Now go in there, please (pointing to
the recess behind the sail). There is a couch there, very
humble, like all the rest; but you'll be able to lie more
comfortably.
Sailor : Give me your hand then, and bid me good-night.
Susan : There, then ; and now good night.
Sailor : I'll 'sleep well, not only because I am dog-tired,
but because I'll dream of you, my pretty Susan. (Exit into
recess L.)
Susan\(alone) : I do> not know how it is, but I almost feel
as if I had been saved from the sea myself, so calm and
hopeful. And that poor fellow—I declare I haven't even
asked his name. I hope he'll rest well. He's an honest
fellow, so good and kindly. I really believe I could love him.
I am tired, too. I haven't talked so much for a long time.
(Sits down by the window and gazes out.)
(Enter Jasper.)
Jasper: Susan, 1 say. Why are you sitting there all
alone ? Where is the drowned sailor V (Puts bottle on the
table.) You see I've brought the brandy. I daresay you
thought I wouldn't, now ?
Susan : It doesn't matter, at any rate. He's better. He's
asleep in there.
Jasper: AVhat! in my bunk? Oh,indeed ; audi suppose
I may sleep on the floor, eh V And it s our last night in the
house, too.
Susan : There's plenty of straw in the outhouse. I'll
fetch in a bundle for you. It won't hurt you to lie on the
straw for one night.
Jaspi r: Oh. but it will, though. And to think of that
wretched lialf-drowned water-rat taking my bunk. He
might be content to thank his stars he's alive.
Susan : Look here, Jasper. The poor young man is our
guest, and I won't have him abused. Just you mind that.
64
WRECKAGE.
Jasper : Ugh ! the miserable pauper.
Susan 1(scornfully) : Pauper, indeed. He has plenty of
money—more than you ever saw in the whole course of your
life.
Jasper ; Oh ! he's got money, has he ?
Susan : Yes, he has ; but you should be ashamed to let
that make any difference.
Jasper : Make a difference ! I should think it did make
a difference. There's nothing but money worth thinking
about in this world. But I don't believe a word of it.
Susan : You know I always speak the truth.
Jasper : Well, it can't be much, or it would have sunk him
to the bottom when he was in the water.
Susan: You think you are very clever, don't you ? I
suppose you never heard of such a thing as paper money—
bank notes—that you can sew up in your clothes quite water¬
tight. Yes, it's true. He has got three hundred pounds
sewn up in the lining of his jacket.
Jasper (excitedly) : By thunder ! (Then sullenly.) Ah,
well; never mind. It's no matter to me.
Susan: No, I suppose not ; but I don't want you to think
I've been telling lies.
Jasper: All right. I believe you. He can sleep in my
bunk anyway, so far as I am concerned ; and the longer the
better. I've got the bottle to keep me company.
'/ Susan: Leave a little for father, when he comes home wet
and worn out.
Jasper : He won't come home to-night now. He's sure to
spend the night at the village.
Susan : Well, I'll go and get the straw for you.
Jasper: Never mind. You're tired yourself. I'll wait
here a little. Perphas David may come home after all. I'm
not very sleepy,
Susan : Yery well. Only mind you don't disturb the poor
fellow in there. (P.v/t with lamp : The moon sheds a dim light
into the room.)
Jasper (alone) : Three hundred pounds ! Where could the
fellow have got all that money ? We'll make him pay
to-morrow for his night's lodging. And then if David is
lucky enough to drop on any wreckage worth having, one
WRECKAGE.
65
way or other we may manage to hang on in this shanty for a
while longer yet. Hallo ! What's this ? Oh, the jacket, of
course. Where's the money ? It's true ; I can feel it.
Here it is, sure enough. (Slight noise outside.) Hsh ! Who's
there ? Ah, it's you, David. (Sits down and throws jacket
on table : Enter David.)
David : Ay ; it's me.
Jasper : Have you got anything ?
David : Not a thing.
Jasper : That isn't much.
David : Has Susan gone to bed ?
Jasper : Ay ! And the sailor chap is asleep in my bunk.
David (situ down by table) : I'm dog tired.
Jasper (pushing the bottle towards him) : Take a drop o
that. I fetched it for him.
David : Thanks. That's done me good.
Jasper (after a short pause, very deliberately) : Do you
know, David Tregarnon, you've been a fool ?
David : What V
Jasper (in a low voice) : You had hold of such a fine bit of
wreckage—such a splendid haul! Why couldn't you have
left well alone ?
David : What on earth are you talking about ?
Jasper : Here ! feel this fine cloth—this jacket, I mean.
Fine heavy cloth, ain't it'(
David : What rubbish is that you are talking ? Don't be
an idiot!
Jasper : Oh ! it's fine heavy cloth, I tell you. Do you
know the weight of it ? Well, it weighs just three hundred
pounds ! Here they are, sewn up in this packet.
David: Three hundred pounds!
Jasper : Just that figure. Three hundred pounds in Bank
of England notes. (In a hashj voice.) David Tregarnon, if
the man who wore that jacket—if he were dead—I mean if
he'd been cast ashore drowned—
David : Then we'd have had three hundred pounds.
Jasper : Yes ; you'd have had that.
David : But the man is alive.
66
WRECKAGE.
Jasper : Yes, he is alive. (Short pause.) Have a drink,
David. What was I going to say ? Oh, yes ! What a pity
it is you won't have your boat to-morrow. You might have
earned a fair bit o' money to-morrow. I met a man at the
inn who wanted to charter a boat for to-morrow. All the
others are at sea—and yours is the only one. Well; the man
will be disappointed if he can't get yours when he calls to¬
morrow.
David: Yes ; I suppose he'll be disappointed.
[Pause. Jasper pours out more brandy.)
Jasper : David !
David : Well ?
Jasppr : Three hundred pounds is a lot of money.
David: Yes ; it's a lot of money. Less than the half of
it would have been enough to buy back the cottage and boat
to-morrow, and then I needn't have gone out as a hired man
in my old age.
Jasper : That's just what I thought.
(A pause.)
David (sotto voce) : Lord, lead us not into temptation.
Jasper (.struggling to suppress his excitement) : I'm only
sorry for poor Susan. She will have to take a situation too.
It's not the work so much, but anything may happen to one
among strangers. And a poor, unprotected girl—that's the
worst of it—one never knows what may happen. And only
to think how near you were to having this little fortune in
your grasp !
David : Who knows if it is true ?
Jasper : It's easy enough to find that out. (Rips open
jacket.) Here's the packet, safe enough !
David : Let's see it.
Jasper: All right. (Rips open packet.) There they are,
crisp little beauties. Ten—twenty—thirty—[counts.)
David : What have you done ? Suppose he should wake
up just now.
Jasper (hoarse and trembling) : Need he wake up at all ?
David Tregarnon, don't be a baby. Isn't this your wreckage
according to all the old custom of the coast. If you had
found it fifteen minutes later it would have been yours. Is
not the whole man in there vonrs ? No one saw you fish him
WRECKAGE.
<>
out. David ! It's only a bit of pluck and stomach you needr
and you'll be the old Skipper Tregarnon again, with his four
boats. 'Sli! there's a noise in Susan's room.
David : But Susan has seen him. :
Jasper : And what then ? Tell her that—he was in a
hurry to be off, and you rowed him round to the cove while
the moon was up. And that will be true enough—you'll row,
but with a quiet passenger, and the sea tells no tales. (David
Has been excitedly handling the notes. Jasper has pushed his
knife towards him. David seizes it suddenly and threatens
Jasper with it.)
David: For God's sake, hold your tongue.
Jasper : Not me. Him in there. (Points to recess, l.)
David : You go and do it yourself.
Jasper: I? I, a cripple ? The money is not forme. You
shall have it all, every penny of it. I'm quite content to
spend the rest of my days under your roof instead of having
to beg. And I'll have to do that to-morrow. But perhaps
we'll go begging together. You're old too. Nobody cares to
hire an old servant. An old dog gets kicked to death.
They'd like to serve old servants the same. David, it will
soon be morning—the moon is going down. {It grows darker
in the room).
David : Come! (Goes stealthily and slowly to centre of room.)
'Sh ! What's that noise ?
Jasper : It's nothing. I'll put my back against the door,
f she should come. That will give us time.
(David goes up to the sail covering the recess, and draws
it aside. The rescued sailor is seen lying on a rude couch.
He sighs aloud in his sleep. A pause—David draws hack).
Sailor (in his sleep) : Saved ! Thank God !
David (steps hastily back) : No ; I cannot do it!
Jasper: Give me the knife !' (He grasps the weapon with
determination, and goes stealthily towards the sleeper. At the
same moment Susan gives loud shriek in her room, within.)
Susan: No! No! No! Jasper! (Appears at door of
communication with light in her hatid. Room becomes light.)
Jasper! Jasper!
Sailor (waling) : What—what is it ? Who calls me ?
Here I am—Jasper Lantrigg is here !
€8
WRECKAGE.
(All, loudly) : Jasper Lantrigg !
Jasper: Great heaven I It can't—it can't be—Jasper
Latrigg—my son ?
Young Jasper : My father—here ?
Jasper: My son—come back !
Young Jasper (approaches him) : Father.
Jasper (embraces him, gazes into his eyes, then suddenly
pushes him bach, and shudders) : Keep off ! Keep away from
me !
Young Jasper: Good heavens! What do you mean ?
Why do you push me away ?
Jaspar : There ! there ! Don't you see that knife between
you and me ? Don't touch me ! I'm accursed before God
and man. With that knife I was going to murder you—
going to murder my own son—and all—all for the sake of
this trash. (Grasps the notes and flings them from him, then
sinks down on seat l.)
David (absently, as if in a dream) : It was/that was going
to do it.
Susan : Heaven sent me a vision in my sleep. Thank God
I was in time to stop you ! {Pause.)
Young Jasper: My God ! And was it for this I came home
after twelve long years ? (Long pause.)
David: All we can do now, Jasper, is to make what atone¬
ment we can by giving ourselves up to the police.
Jasper (brokenly) : Ay, to the police. And you must bear
me out, David ; it was I who put the murder in your head.
You would never have dreamed of it but for me.
Young Jasper : What can the law or the police do for you ?
The law only punishes deeds. It cannot give repentance or
annul the past. Do you want to proclaim your guilt to the
whole world, and leave a legacy of shame and disgrace to
Susan and to me V
Jasper : No, no. That must not be. Let the shame and
the sin of this hour rather weigh on me alone to all eternity !
The waves that refused to drown you will not reject my
accursed body. There's nothing left for me but death.
Susan : No, Jasper. There's something else left you yet
—something your tongue has not uttered, because your hard
heart has been so long a stranger to it. There is forgiveness
in heaven and love on earth.
WRECKAGE.
Young Jasper : Dear, dear, Susan.
Susan (takes his hand) : Jasper, dear, let us pray together
that Heaven •will forgive them both, as we forgive them.
David (falls on bench, and hides his face in his hands, with
sobs) : Oh, Susan.
Susaji (gravely and impressively) : Yes, your lives have
been hard and full of troubles, but you have groaned, and
murmured, and complained instead of struggling manfully
against ill-fortune. You were going recklessly and headlong
to perdition. But, just as you were about to make eternal
shipwreck, Providence mercifully stretched forth its hand
to save you. Show your thankfulness, and trust in the
promise of forgiveness. You have told the truth when you
might have turned suspicion from you by a lie. Remember
the Bible saying : " There is more joy in heaven over one
sinner that repenteth than over ninety and nine just men
that need no repentance."
(Pause,)
Young Jasper (anxiously): Father, you do not speak,
Jasper : What could I say, even if 1 could speak at all ?
(Beating his breast.) But here all is raging like a wild storm
on an angry sea, and my spirit is tossed like a cockle-shell on
the boiling waves. Your words are like a beacon of safety
in the far distance. I'll try to steer the course you point.
God help me in fear and trembling ; and perhaps the Lord
will bring me into smooth water in time, and look down on
me in mercy, as His sun broke yonder through the drifting
clouds.
David: Lord, forgive us ! (Sinks doivn.)
Susan and Young Jasper (hand in hand) : Amen.
Sitsan and Young Jasper L.C.; old Lantrigg in chair, R.c. ;
David standing behind, with hand on old Jasper's
shoulder.)
CURTAIN.
SEASON 1893-4.
Ir. & Irs. IcHARDY FLINT'S
NEW PROGRAMME
Includes Act III, Scenes I and IV from
SS J&. TsfiL 3Lb IE2 1F9
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