Chapter III: Act ONE: Scene Two

_The sitting room of the Mayo farm house about nine o’clock the same night. On the left, two windows looking out on the fields. Against the wall between the windows, an old-fashioned walnut desk. In the left corner, rear, a sideboard with a mirror. In the rear wall to the right of the sideboard, a window looking out on the road. Neat to the window a door leading out into the yard. Farther right, a black horse-hair sofa, and another door opening on a bedroom. In the corner, a straight-backed chair. In the right wall, near the middle, an open doorway leading to the kitchen. Farther forward a double-heater stove with coal scuttle, etc. In the center of the newly carpeted floor, an oak dining-room table with a red cover. In the center of the table, a large oil reading lamp. Four chairs, three rockers with crocheted tidies on their backs, and one straight-backed, are placed about the table. The walls are papered a dark red with a scrolly-figured pattern._

_Everything in the room is clean, well-kept, and in its exact place, yet there is no suggestion of primness about the whole. Rather the atmosphere is one of the orderly comfort of a simple, hard-earned prosperity, enjoyed and maintained by the family as a unit._

JAMES MAYO, _his wife, her brother_, CAPTAIN DICK SCOTT, _and_ ANDREW _are discovered_. MAYO _is his son_ ANDREW _over again in body and face--an_ ANDREW _sixty-five years old with a short, square, white beard_. MRS. MAYO _is a slight, round-faced, rather prim-looking woman of fifty-five who had once been a school teacher. The labors of a farmer’s wife have bent but not broken her, and she retains a certain refinement of movement and expression foreign to the_ MAYO _part of the family. Whatever of resemblance_ ROBERT _has to his parents may be traced to her. Her brother, the_ CAPTAIN, _is short and stocky, with a weather-beaten, jovial face and a white mustache--a typical old salt, loud of voice and given to gesture. He is fifty-eight years old._

JAMES MAYO _sits in front of the table. He wears spectacles, and a farm journal which he has been reading lies in his lap._ THE CAPTAIN _leans forward from a chair in the rear, his hands on the table in front of him_. ANDREW _is tilted back on the straight-backed chair to the left, his chin sank forward on his chest, staring at the carpet, preoccupied and frowning_.

_As the Curtain rises the_ CAPTAIN _is just finishing the relation of some sea episode. The others are pretending an interest which is belied by the absent-minded expressions on their faces._

THE CAPTAIN. (_chuckling_) And that mission woman, she hails me on the dock as I was acomin’ ashore, and she says--with her silly face all screwed up serious as judgment--“Captain,” she says, “would you be so kind as to tell me where the sea-gulls sleeps at nights?” Blow me if them warn’t her exact words! (_He slaps the table with the palm of his hands and laughs loudly. The others force smiles_) Ain’t that just like a fool woman’s question? And I looks at her serious as I could, “Ma’m,” says I, “I couldn’t rightly answer that question. I ain’t never seed a sea-gull in his bunk yet. The next time I hears one snorin’,” I says, “I’ll make a note of where he’s turned in, and write you a letter ’bout it.” And then she calls me a fool real spiteful and tacks away from me quick. (_He laughs again uproariously_) So I got rid of her that way. (_The others smile but immediately relapse into expressions of gloom again_).

MRS. MAYO. (_absent-mindedly--feeling that she has to say something_) But when it comes to that, where _do_ sea-gulls sleep, Dick?

SCOTT. (_slapping the table_) Ho! Ho! Listen to her, James. ’Nother one! Well, if that don’t beat all hell--’scuse me for cussin’, Kate.

MAYO. (_with a twinkle in his eyes_) They unhitch their wings, Katey, and spreads ’em out on a wave for a bed.

SCOTT. And then they tells the fish to whistle to ’em when it’s time to turn out. Ho! Ho!

MRS. MAYO. (_with a forced smile_) You men folks are too smart to live, aren’t you? (_She resumes her knitting_. MAYO _pretends to read his paper_; ANDREW _stares at the floor_).

SCOTT. (_looks from one to the other of them with a puzzled air. Finally he is unable to bear the thick silence a minute longer, and blurts out_): You folks look as if you was settin’ up with a corpse. (_With exaggerated concern_) God A’mighty, there ain’t anyone dead, be there?

MAYO. (_sharply_) Don’t play the dunce, Dick! You know as well as we do there ain’t no great cause to be feelin’ chipper.

SCOTT. (_argumentatively_) And there ain’t no cause to be wearin’ mourning, either, I can make out.

MRS. MAYO. (_indignantly_) How can you talk that way, Dick Scott, when you’re taking our Robbie away from us, in the middle of the night, you might say, just to get on that old boat of yours on time! I think you might wait until morning when he’s had his breakfast.

SCOTT. (_appealing to the others hopelessly_) Ain’t that a woman’s way o’ seein’ things for you? God A’mighty, Kate, I can’t give orders to the tide that it’s got to be high just when it suits me to have it. I ain’t gettin’ no fun out o’ missin’ sleep and leavin’ here at six bells myself. (_Protestingly_) And the _Sunda_ ain’t an old ship--leastways, not very old--and she’s good’s she ever was.

MRS. MAYO. (_her lips trembling_) I wish Robbie weren’t going.

MAYO. (_looking at her over his glasses--consolingly_) There, Katey!

MRS. MAYO. (_rebelliously_) Well, I do wish he wasn’t!

SCOTT. You shouldn’t be taking it so hard, ’s far as I kin see. This vige’ll make a man of him. I’ll see to it he learns how to navigate, ’n’ study for a mate’s c’tificate right off--and it’ll give him a trade for the rest of his life, if he wants to travel.

MRS. MAYO. But I don’t want him to travel all his life. You’ve got to see he comes home when this trip is over. Then he’ll be all well, and he’ll want to--to marry--(ANDREW _sits forward in his chair with an abrupt movement_)--and settle down right here. (_She stares down at the knitting in her lap--after a pause_) I never realized how hard it was going to be for me to have Robbie go--or I wouldn’t have considered it a minute.

SCOTT. It ain’t no good goin’ on that way, Kate, now it’s all settled.

MRS. MAYO. (_on the verge of tears_) It’s all right for _you_ to talk. You’ve never had any children. You don’t know what it means to be parted from them--and Robbie my youngest, too. (ANDREW _frowns and fidgets in his chair_).

ANDREW. (_suddenly turning to them_) There’s one thing none of you seem to take into consideration--that Rob wants to go. He’s dead set on it. He’s been dreaming over this trip ever since it was first talked about. It wouldn’t be fair to him not to have him go. (_A sudden uneasiness seems to strike him_) At least, not if he still feels the same way about it he did when he was talking to me this evening.

MAYO. (_with an air of decision_) Andy’s right, Katey. That ends all argyment, you can see that. (_Looking at his big silver watch_) Wonder what’s happened to Robert? He’s been gone long enough to wheel the widder to home, certain. He can’t be out dreamin’ at the stars his last night.

MRS. MAYO. (_a bit reproachfully_) Why didn’t you wheel Mrs. Atkins back tonight, Andy? You usually do when she and Ruth come over.

ANDREW. (_avoiding her eyes_) I thought maybe Robert wanted to tonight. He offered to go right away when they were leaving.

MRS. MAYO. He only wanted to be polite.

ANDREW. (_gets to his feet_) Well, he’ll be right back, I guess. (_He turns to his father_) Guess I’ll go take a look at the black cow, Pa--see if she’s ailing any.

MAYO. Yes--better had, son. (ANDREW _goes into the kitchen on the right_).

SCOTT. (_as he goes out--in a low tone_) There’s the boy that would make a good, strong sea-farin’ man--if he’d a mind to.

MAYO. (_sharply_) Don’t you put no such fool notions in Andy’s head, Dick--or you ’n’ me’s goin’ to fall out. (_Then he smiles_) You couldn’t tempt him, no ways. Andy’s a Mayo bred in the bone, and he’s a born farmer, and a damn good one, too. He’ll live and die right here on this farm, like I expect to. (_With proud confidence_) And he’ll make this one of the slickest, best-payin’ farms in the state, too, afore he gits through!

SCOTT. Seems to me it’s a pretty slick place right now.

MAYO. (_shaking his head_) It’s too small. We need more land to make it amount to much, and we ain’t got the capital to buy it. (ANDREW _enters from the kitchen. His hat is on, and he carries a lighted lantern in his hand. He goes to the door in the rear leading out_).

ANDREW. (_opens the door and pauses_) Anything else you can think of to be done, Pa?

MAYO. No, nothin’ I know of. (ANDREW _goes out, shutting the door_).

MRS. MAYO. (_after a pause_) What’s come over Andy tonight, I wonder? He acts so strange.

MAYO. He does seem sort o’ glum and out of sorts. It’s ’count o’ Robert leavin’, I s’pose. (_To_ SCOTT) Dick, you wouldn’t believe how them boys o’ mine sticks together. They ain’t like most brothers. They’ve been thick as thieves all their lives, with nary a quarrel I kin remember.

SCOTT. No need to tell me that. I can see how they take to each other.

MRS. MAYO. (_pursuing her train of thought_) Did you notice, James, how queer everyone was at supper? Robert seemed stirred up about something; and Ruth was so flustered and giggly; and Andy sat there dumb, looking as if he’d lost his best friend; and all of them only nibbled at their food.

MAYO. Guess they was all thinkin’ about tomorrow, same as us.

MRS. MAYO. (_shaking her head_) No. I’m afraid somethin’s happened--somethin’ else.

MAYO. You mean--’bout Ruth?

MRS. MAYO. Yes.

MAYO. (_after a pause--frowning_) I hope her and Andy ain’t had a serious fallin’-out. I always sorter hoped they’d hitch up together sooner or later. What d’you say, Dick? Don’t you think them two’d pair up well?

SCOTT. (_nodding his head approvingly_) A sweet, wholesome couple they’d make.

MAYO. It’d be a good thing for Andy in more ways than one. I ain’t what you’d call calculatin’ generally, and I b’lieve in lettin’ young folks run their affairs to suit themselves; but there’s advantages for both o’ them in this match you can’t overlook in reason. The Atkins farm is right next to ourn. Jined together they’d make a jim-dandy of a place, with plenty o’ room to work in. And bein’ a widder with only a daughter, and laid up all the time to boot, Mrs. Atkins can’t do nothin’ with the place as it ought to be done. She needs a man, a first-class farmer, to take hold o’ things; and Andy’s just the one.

MRS. MAYO. (_abruptly_) I don’t think Ruth loves Andy.

MAYO. You don’t? Well, maybe a woman’s eyes is sharper in such things, but--they’re always together. And if she don’t love him now, she’ll likely come around to it in time. (_As_ MRS. MAYO _shakes her head_) You seem mighty fixed in your opinion, Katey. How d’you know?

MRS. MAYO. It’s just--what I feel.

MAYO. (_a light breaking over him_) You don’t mean to say--(MRS. MAYO _nods_. MAYO _chuckles scornfully_) Shucks! I’m losin’ my respect for your eyesight, Katey. Why, Robert ain’t got no time for Ruth, ’cept as a friend!

MRS. MAYO. (_warningly_) Sss-h-h! (_The door from the yard opens, and_ ROBERT _enters. He is smiling happily, and humming a song to himself, but as he comes into the room an undercurrent of nervous uneasiness manifests itself in his bearing_).

MAYO. So here you be at last! (ROBERT _comes forward and sits on_ ANDY’S _chair_. MAYO _smiles slyly at his wife_) What have you been doin’ all this time--countin’ the stars to see if they all come out right and proper?

ROBERT. There’s only one I’ll ever look for any more, Pa.

MAYO. (_reproachfully_) You might’ve even not wasted time lookin’ for that one--your last night.

MRS. MAYO. (_as if she were speaking to a child_) You ought to have worn your coat a sharp night like this, Robbie.

SCOTT. (_disgustedly_) God A’mighty, Kate, you treat Robert as if he was one year old!

MRS. MAYO. (_notices_ ROBERT’S _nervous uneasiness_) You look all worked up over something, Robbie. What is it?

ROBERT. (_swallowing hard, looks quickly from one to the other of them--then begins determinedly_) Yes, there _is_ something--something I must tell you--all of you. (_As he begins to talk_ ANDREW _enters quietly from the rear, closing the door behind him, and setting the lighted lantern on the floor. He remains standing by the door, his arms folded, listening to_ ROBERT _with a repressed expression of pain on his face_. ROBERT _is so much taken up with what he is going to say that he does not notice_ ANDREW’S _presence_.) Something I discovered only this evening--very beautiful and wonderful--something I did not take into consideration previously because I hadn’t dared to hope that such happiness could ever come to me. (_Appealingly_) You must all remember that fact, won’t you?

MAYO. (_frowning_) Let’s get to the point, son.

ROBERT. (_with a trace of defiance_) Well, the point is this, Pa: I’m not going--I mean--I can’t go tomorrow with Uncle Dick--or at any future time, either.

MRS. MAYO. (_with a sharp sigh of joyful relief_) Oh, Robbie, I’m so glad!

MAYO. (_astounded_) You ain’t serious, be you, Robert? (_Severely_) Seems to me it’s a pretty late hour in the day for you to be upsettin’ all your plans so sudden!

ROBERT. I asked you to remember that until this evening I didn’t know myself. I had never dared to dream----

MAYO. (_irritably_) What is this foolishness you’re talkin’ of?

ROBERT. (_flushing_) Ruth told me this evening that--she loved me. It was after I’d confessed I loved her. I told her I hadn’t been conscious of my love until after the trip had been arranged, and I realized it would mean--leaving her. That was the truth. I _didn’t_ know until then. (_As if justifying himself to the others_) I hadn’t intended telling her anything but--suddenly--I felt I must. I didn’t think it would matter, because I was going away. And I thought she loved--someone else. (_Slowly--his eyes shining_) And then she cried and said it was I she’d loved all the time, but I hadn’t seen it.

MRS. MAYO. (_rushes over and throws her arms about him_) I knew it! I was just telling your father when you came in--and, Oh, Robbie, I’m so happy you’re not going!

ROBERT. (_kissing her_) I knew you’d be glad, Ma.

MAYO. (_bewilderedly_) Well, I’ll be damned! You do beat all for gettin’ folks’ minds all tangled up, Robert. And Ruth too! Whatever got into her of a sudden? Why, I was thinkin’----

MRS. MAYO. (_hurriedly--in a tone of warning_) Never mind what you were thinking, James. It wouldn’t be any use telling us that now. (_Meaningly_) And what you were hoping for turns out just the same almost, doesn’t it?

MAYO. (_thoughtfully--beginning to see this side of the argument_) Yes; I suppose you’re right, Katey. (_Scratching his head in puzzlement_) But how it ever come about! It do beat anything ever I heard. (_Finally he gets up with a sheepish grin and walks over to_ ROBERT) We’re glad you ain’t goin’, your Ma and I, for we’d have missed you terrible, that’s certain and sure; and we’re glad you’ve found happiness. Ruth’s a fine girl and’ll make a good wife to you.

ROBERT. (_much moved_) Thank you, Pa. (_He grips his father’s hand in his_).

ANDREW. (_his face tense and drawn comes forward and holds out his hand, forcing a smile_) I guess it’s my turn to offer congratulations, isn’t it?

ROBERT. (_with a startled cry when his brother appears before him so suddenly_) Andy! (_Confused_) Why--I--I didn’t see you. Were you here when----

ANDREW. I heard everything you said; and here’s wishing you every happiness, you and Ruth. You both deserve the best there is.

ROBERT. (_taking his hand_) Thanks, Andy, it’s fine of you to---- (_His voice dies away as he sees the pain in_ ANDREW’S _eyes_).

ANDREW. (_giving his brother’s hand a final grip_) Good luck to you both! (_He turns away and goes back to the rear where he bends over the lantern, fumbling with it to hide his emotion from the others_).

MRS. MAYO. (_to the_ CAPTAIN, _who has been too flabbergasted by_ ROBERT’S _decision to say a word_) What’s the matter, Dick? Aren’t you going to congratulate Robbie?

SCOTT. (_embarrassed_) Of course I be! (_He gets to his feet and shakes_ ROBERT’S _hand, muttering a vague_) Luck to you, boy. (_He stands beside_ ROBERT _as if he wanted to say something more but doesn’t know how to go about it_).

ROBERT. Thanks, Uncle Dick.

SCOTT. So you’re not acomin’ on the _Sunda_ with me? (_His voice indicates disbelief_).

ROBERT. I can’t, Uncle--not now. I wouldn’t miss it for anything else in the world under any other circumstances. (_He sighs unconsciously_) But you see I’ve found--a bigger dream. (_Then with joyous high spirits_) I want you all to understand one thing--I’m not going to be a loafer on your hands any longer. This means the beginning of a new life for me in every way. I’m going to settle right down and take a real interest in the farm, and do my share. I’ll prove to you, Pa, that I’m as good a Mayo as you are--or Andy, when I want to be.

MAYO. (_kindly but skeptically_) That’s the right spirit, Robert. Ain’t none of us doubts your willin’ness, but you ain’t never learned----

ROBERT. Then I’m going to start learning right away, and you’ll teach me, won’t you?

MAYO. (_mollifyingly_) Of course I will, boy, and be glad to, only you’d best go easy at first.

SCOTT. (_who has listened to this conversation in mingled consternation and amazement_) You don’t mean to tell me you’re goin’ to let him stay, do you, James?

MAYO. Why, things bein’ as they be, Robert’s free to do as he’s a mind to.

MRS. MAYO. _Let him!_ The very idea!

SCOTT. (_more and more ruffled_) Then all I got to say is, you’re a soft, weak-willed critter to be permittin’ a boy--and women, too--to be layin’ your course for you wherever they damn pleases.

MAYO. (_slyly amused_) It’s just the same with me as ’twas with you, Dick. You can’t order the tides on the seas to suit you, and I ain’t pretendin’ I can reg’late love for young folks.

SCOTT. (_scornfully_) Love! They ain’t old enough to know love when they sight it! Love! I’m ashamed of you, Robert, to go lettin’ a little huggin’ and kissin’ in the dark spile your chances to make a man out o’ yourself. It ain’t common sense--no siree, it ain’t--not by a hell of a sight! (_He pounds the table with his fists in exasperation_).

MRS. MAYO. (_laughing provokingly at her brother_) A fine one you are to be talking about love, Dick--an old cranky bachelor like you. Goodness sakes!

SCOTT. (_exasperated by their joking_) I’ve never been a damn fool like most, if that’s what you’re steerin’ at.

MRS. MAYO. (_tauntingly_) Sour grapes, aren’t they, Dick? (_She laughs._ ROBERT _and his father chuckle_. SCOTT _sputters with annoyance_) Good gracious, Dick, you do act silly, flying into a temper over nothing.

SCOTT. (_indignantly_) Nothin’! You talk as if I wasn’t concerned nohow in this here business. Seems to me I’ve got a right to have my say. Ain’t I made all arrangements with the owners and stocked up with some special grub all on Robert’s account?

ROBERT. You’ve been fine, Uncle Dick; and I appreciate it. Truly.

MAYO. ’Course; we all does, Dick.

SCOTT. (_unplacated_) I’ve been countin’ sure on havin’ Robert for company on this vige--to sorta talk to and show things to, and teach, kinda, and I got my mind so set on havin’ him I’m goin’ to be double lonesome this vige. (_He pounds on the table, attempting to cover up this confession of weakness_) Darn all this silly lovin’ business, anyway. (_Irritably_) But all this talk ain’t tellin’ me what I’m to do with that sta’b’d cabin I fixed up. It’s all painted white, an’ a bran new mattress on the bunk, ’n’ new sheets ’n’ blankets ’n’ things. And Chips built in a book-case so’s Robert could take his books along--with a slidin’ bar fixed across’t it, mind, so’s they couldn’t fall out no matter how she rolled. (_With excited consternation_) What d’you suppose my officers is goin’ to think when there’s no one comes aboard to occupy that sta’b’d cabin? And the men what did the work on it--what’ll _they_ think? (_He shakes his finger indignantly_) They’re liable as not to suspicion it was a woman I’d planned to ship along, and that she gave me the go-by at the last moment! (_He wipes his perspiring brow in anguish at this thought_). Gawd A’mighty! They’re only lookin’ to have the laugh on me for something like that. They’re liable to b’lieve anything, those fellers is!

MAYO. (_with a wink)_ Then there’s nothing to it but for you to get right out and hunt up a wife somewheres for that spick ’n’ span cabin. She’ll have to be a pretty one, too, to match it. (_He looks at his watch with exaggerated concern_) You ain’t got much time to find her, Dick.

SCOTT. (_as the others smile--sulkily_) You kin go to thunder, Jim Mayo!

ANDREW. (_comes forward from where he has been standing by the door, rear, brooding. His face is set in a look of grim determination_) You needn’t worry about that spare cabin, Uncle Dick, if you’ve a mind to take me in Robert’s place.

ROBERT. (_turning to him quickly_) Andy! (_He sees at once the fixed resolve in his brother’s eyes, and realizes immediately the reason for it--in consternation_) Andy, you mustn’t!

ANDREW. You’ve made your decision, Rob, and now I’ve made mine. You’re out of this, remember.

ROBERT. (_hurt by his brother’s tone_) But Andy----

ANDREW. Don’t interfere, Rob--that’s all I ask. (_Turning to his uncle_) You haven’t answered my question, Uncle Dick.

SCOTT. (_clearing his throat, with an uneasy side glance at_ JAMES MAYO _who is staring at his elder son as if he thought he had suddenly gone mad_) O’ course, I’d be glad to have you, Andy.

ANDREW. It’s settled then. I can pack the little I want to take in a few minutes.

MRS. MAYO. Don’t be a fool, Dick. Andy’s only joking you.

SCOTT. (_disgruntedly_) It’s hard to tell who’s jokin’ and who’s not in this house.

ANDREW. (_firmly_) I’m not joking, Uncle Dick. (_As_ SCOTT _looks at him uncertainly_) You needn’t be afraid I’ll go back on my word.

ROBERT. (_hurt by the insinuation he feels in_ ANDREW’S _tone_) Andy! That isn’t fair!

MAYO. (_frowning_) Seems to me this ain’t no subject to joke over--not for Andy.

ANDREW. (_facing his father_) I agree with you, Pa, and I tell you again, once and for all, that I’ve made up my mind to go.

MAYO. (_dumbfounded--unable to doubt the determination in_ ANDREW’S _voice--helplessly_) But why, son? Why?

ANDREW. (_evasively_) I’ve always wanted to go.

ROBERT. Andy!

ANDREW. (_half angrily_) You shut up, Rob! (_Turning to his father again_) I didn’t ever mention it because as long as Rob was going I knew it was no use; but now Rob’s staying on here, there isn’t any reason for me not to go.

MAYO. (_breathing hard_) No reason? Can you stand there and say that to me, Andrew?

MRS. MAYO. (_hastily--seeing the gathering storm_) He doesn’t mean a word of it, James.

MAYO. (_making a gesture to her to keep silence_) Let me talk, Katey. (_In a more kindly tone_) What’s come over you so sudden, Andy? You know’s well as I do that it wouldn’t be fair o’ you to run off at a moment’s notice right now when we’re up to our necks in hard work.

ANDREW. (_avoiding his eyes_) Rob’ll hold his end up as soon as he learns.

MAYO. Robert was never cut out for a farmer, and you was.

ANDREW. You can easily get a man to do my work.

MAYO. (_restraining his anger with an effort_) It sounds strange to hear you, Andy, that I always thought had good sense, talkin’ crazy like that. (_Scornfully_) Get a man to take your place! You ain’t been workin’ here for no hire, Andy, that you kin give me your notice to quit like you’ve done. The farm is your’n as well as mine. You’ve always worked on it with that understanding; and what you’re sayin’ you intend doin’ is just skulkin’ out o’ your rightful responsibility.

ANDREW. (_looking at the floor--simply_) I’m sorry, Pa. (_After a slight pause_) It’s no use talking any more about it.

MRS. MAYO. (_in relief_) There! I knew Andy’d come to his senses!

ANDREW. Don’t get the wrong idea, Ma. I’m not backing out.

MAYO. You mean you’re goin’ in spite of--everythin’?

ANDREW. Yes. I’m going. I’ve got to. (_He looks at his father defiantly_) I feel I oughn’t to miss this chance to go out into the world and see things, and--I want to go.

MAYO. (_with bitter scorn_) So--you want to go out into the world and see thin’s! (_His voice raised and quivering with anger_) I never thought I’d live to see the day when a son o’ mine ’d look me in the face and tell a bare-faced lie! (_Bursting out_) You’re a liar, Andy Mayo, and a mean one to boot!

MRS. MAYO. James!

ROBERT. Pa!

SCOTT. Steady there, Jim!

MAYO. (_waving their protests aside_) He is and he knows it.

ANDREW. (_his face flushed_) I won’t argue with you, Pa. You can think as badly of me as you like.

MAYO. (_shaking his finger at_ ANDY, _in a cold rage_) You know I’m speakin’ truth--that’s why you’re afraid to argy! You lie when you say you want to go ’way--and see thin’s! You ain’t got no likin’ in the world to go. I’ve watched you grow up, and I know your ways, and they’re my ways. You’re runnin’ against your own nature, and you’re goin’ to be a’mighty sorry for it if you do. ’S if I didn’t know your real reason for runnin’ away! And runnin’ away’s the only words to fit it. You’re runnin’ away ’cause you’re put out and riled ’cause your own brother’s got Ruth ’stead o’ you, and----

ANDREW. (_his face crimson--tensely_) Stop, Pa! I won’t stand hearing that--not even from you!

MRS. MAYO. (_rushing to_ ANDY _and putting her arms about him protectingly_) Don’t mind him, Andy dear. He don’t mean a word he’s saying! (ROBERT _stands rigidly, his hands clenched, his face contracted by pain_. SCOTT _sits dumbfounded and open-mouthed_. ANDREW _soothes his mother who is on the verge of tears_).

MAYO. (_in angry triumph_) It’s the truth, Andy Mayo! And you ought to be bowed in shame to think of it!

ROBERT. (_protestingly_) Pa!

MRS. MAYO. (_coming from_ ANDREW _to his father; puts her hands on his shoulders as though to try and push him back in the chair from which he has risen_) Won’t you be still, James? Please won’t you?

MAYO. (_looking at_ ANDREW _over his wife’s shoulder--stubbornly_) The truth--God’s truth!

MRS. MAYO. Sh-h-h! (_She tries to put a finger across his lips, but he twists his head away_).

ANDREW. (_who has regained control over himself_) You’re wrong, Pa, it isn’t truth. (_With defiant assertiveness_) I don’t love Ruth. I never loved her, and the thought of such a thing never entered my head.

MAYO. (_with an angry snort of disbelief_) Hump! You’re pilin’ lie on lie!

ANDREW. (_losing his temper--bitterly_) I suppose it’d be hard for you to explain anyone’s wanting to leave this blessed farm except for some outside reason like that. But I’m sick and tired of it--whether you want to believe me or not--and that’s why I’m glad to get a chance to move on.

ROBERT. Andy! Don’t! You’re only making it worse.

ANDREW. (_sulkily_) I don’t care. I’ve done my share of work here. I’ve earned my right to quit when I want to. (_Suddenly overcome with anger and grief; with rising intensity_) I’m sick and tired of the whole damn business. I hate the farm and every inch of ground in it. I’m sick of digging in the dirt and sweating in the sun like a slave without getting a word of thanks for it. (_Tears of rage starting to his eyes--hoarsely_) I’m through, through for good and all; and if Uncle Dick won’t take me on his ship, I’ll find another. I’ll get away somewhere, somehow.

MRS. MAYO. (_in a frightened voice_) Don’t you answer him, James. He doesn’t know what he’s saying. Don’t say a word to him ’til he’s in his right senses again. Please James, don’t----

MAYO. (_pushes her away from him; his face is drawn and pale with the violence of his passion. He glares at_ ANDREW _as if he hated him_) You dare to--you dare to speak like that to me? You talk like that ’bout this farm--the Mayo farm--where you was born--you--you---- (_He clenches his fist above his head and advances threateningly on_ ANDREW) You damned whelp!

MRS. MAYO. (_with a shriek_) James! (_She covers her face with her hands and sinks weakly into_ MAYO’S _chair_. ANDREW _remains standing motionless, his face pale and set_).

SCOTT. (_starting to his feet and stretching his arms across the table toward_ MAYO) Easy there, Jim!

ROBERT. (_throwing himself between father and brother_) Stop! Are you mad?

MAYO. (_grabs_ ROBERT’S _arm and pushes him aside--then stands for a moment gasping for breath before_ ANDREW. _He points to the door with a shaking finger_) Yes--go!--go!--You’re no son o’ mine--no son o’ mine! You can go to hell if you want to! Don’t let me find you here--in the mornin’--or--or--I’ll _throw_ you out!

ROBERT. Pa! For God’s sake! (MRS. MAYO _bursts into noisy sobbing_).

MAYO. (_he gulps convulsively and glares at_ ANDREW) You go--tomorrow mornin’--and by God--don’t come back--don’t dare come back--by God, not while I’m livin’--or I’ll--I’ll---- (_He shakes over his muttered threat and strides toward the door rear, right_).

MRS. MAYO. (_rising and throwing her arms around him--hysterically_) James! James! Where are you going?

MAYO. (_incoherently_) I’m goin’--to bed, Katey. It’s late, Katey--it’s late. (_He goes out_).

MRS. MAYO. (_following him, pleading hysterically_) James! Take back what you’ve said to Andy. James! (_She follows him out._ ROBERT _and the_ CAPTAIN _stare after them with horrified eyes_. ANDREW _stands rigidly looking straight in front of him, his fists clenched at his sides_).

SCOTT. (_the first to find his voice--with an explosive sigh_) Well, if he ain’t the devil himself when he’s roused! You oughtn’t to have talked to him that way, Andy ’bout the damn farm, knowin’ how touchy he is about it. (_With another sigh_) Well, you won’t mind what he’s said in anger. He’ll be sorry for it when he’s calmed down a bit.

ANDREW. (_in a dead voice_) You don’t know him. (_Defiantly_) What’s said is said and can’t be unsaid; and I’ve chosen.

ROBERT. (_with violent protest_) Andy! You can’t go! This is all so stupid--and terrible!

ANDREW. (_coldly_) I’ll talk to you in a minute, Rob. (_Crushed by his brother’s attitude_ ROBERT _sinks down into a chair, holding his head in his hands_).

SCOTT. (_comes and slaps_ ANDREW _on the back_) I’m damned glad you’re shippin’ on, Andy. I like your spirit, and the way you spoke up to him. (_Lowering his voice to a cautious whisper_) The sea’s the place for a young feller like you that isn’t half dead ’n’ alive. (_He gives_ ANDY _a final approving slap_) You ’n’ me’ll get along like twins, see if we don’t. I’m goin’ aloft to turn in. Don’t forget to pack your dunnage. And git some sleep, if you kin. We’ll want to sneak out extra early b’fore they’re up. It’ll do away with more argyments. Robert can drive us down to the town, and bring back the team. (_He goes to the door in the rear, left_) Well, good night.

ANDREW. Good night. (SCOTT _goes out. The two brothers remain silent for a moment. Then_ ANDREW _comes over to his brother and puts a hand on his back. He speaks in a low voice, full of feeling_) Buck up, Rob. It ain’t any use crying over spilt milk; and it’ll all turn out for the best--let’s hope. It couldn’t be helped--what’s happened.

ROBERT. (_wildly_) But it’s a lie, Andy, a lie!

ANDREW. Of course it’s a lie. You know it and I know it,--but that’s all ought to know it.

ROBERT. Pa’ll never forgive you. Oh, the whole affair is so senseless--and tragic. Why did you think you must go away?

ANDREW. You know better than to ask that. You know why. (_Fiercely_) I can wish you and Ruth all the good luck in the world, and I do, and I mean it; but you can’t expect me to stay around here and watch you two together, day after day--and me alone. I couldn’t stand it--not after all the plans I’d made to happen on this place thinking---- (_his voice breaks_) thinking she cared for me.

ROBERT. (_putting a hand on his brother’s arm_) God! It’s horrible! I feel so guilty--to think that I should be the cause of your suffering, after we’ve been such pals all our lives. If I could have foreseen what’d happen, I swear to you I’d have never said a word to Ruth. I swear I wouldn’t have, Andy!

ANDREW. I know you wouldn’t; and that would’ve been worse, for Ruth would’ve suffered then. (_He pats his brother’s shoulder_) It’s best as it is. It had to be, and I’ve got to stand the gaff, that’s all. Pa’ll see how I felt--after a time. (_As_ ROBERT _shakes his head_)--and if he don’t--well, it can’t be helped.

ROBERT. But think of Ma! God, Andy, you can’t go! You can’t!

ANDREW. (_fiercely_) I’ve got to go--to get away! I’ve got to, I tell you. I’d go crazy here, bein’ reminded every second of the day what a fool I’d made of myself. I’ve got to get away and try and forget, if I can. And I’d hate the farm if I stayed, hate it for bringin’ things back. I couldn’t take interest in the work any more, work with no purpose in sight. Can’t you see what a hell it’d be? You love her too, Rob. Put yourself in my place, and remember I haven’t stopped loving her, and couldn’t if I was to stay. Would that be fair to you or to her? Put yourself in my place. (_He shakes his brother fiercely by the shoulder_) What’d you do then? Tell me the truth! You love her. What’d you do?

ROBERT. (_chokingly_) I’d--I’d go, Andy! (_He buries his face in his hands with a shuddering sob_) God!

ANDREW. (_seeming to relax suddenly all over his body--in a low, steady voice_) Then you know why I got to go; and there’s nothing more to be said.

ROBERT. (_in a frenzy of rebellion_) Why did this have to happen to us? It’s damnable! (_He looks about him wildly, as if his vengeance were seeking the responsible fate_).

ANDREW. (_soothingly--again putting his hands on his brother’s shoulder_) It’s no use fussing any more, Rob. It’s done. (_Forcing a smile_) I guess Ruth’s got a right to have who she likes. She made a good choice--and God bless her for it!

ROBERT. Andy! Oh, I wish I could tell you half I feel of how fine you are!

ANDREW. (_interrupting him quickly_) Shut up! Let’s go to bed. I’ve got to be up long before sun-up. You, too, if you’re going to drive us down.

ROBERT. Yes. Yes.

ANDREW. (_turning down the lamp_) And I’ve got to pack yet. (_He yawns with utter weariness_) I’m as tired as if I’d been plowing twenty-four hours at a stretch. (_Dully_) I feel--dead. (ROBERT _covers his face again with his hands_. ANDREW _shakes his head as if to get rid of his thoughts, and continues with a poor attempt at cheery briskness_) I’m going to douse the light. Come on. (_He slaps his brother on the back._ ROBERT _does not move_. ANDREW _bends over and blows out the lamp. His voice comes from the darkness_) Don’t sit there mourning, Rob. It’ll all come out in the wash. Come on and get some sleep. Everything’ll turn out all right in the end. (ROBERT _can be heard stumbling to his feet, and the dark figures of the two brothers can be seen groping their way toward the doorway in the rear as_

(_The Curtain Falls_)

BEYOND THE HORIZON