Chapter IV: Part 4

Look here, old man, I’ve done wrong. I admit it. I’ve done something that other men have done before me and it’s come out all right. At the time I thought the slump would only last a few days, and I thought I should be able to replace the bonds in a week. It’s the only slip I’ve made. Don’t be too hard on me.... [_With a break in his voice._] Have mercy as you hope in your turn to have mercy shown to you. Don’t ruin me for this one mistake. Let it mean something to you that I’m humiliating myself before you.... It wasn’t a crime. It was only thoughtlessness. Give me another chance.

[JAMES FORD, _with his face between his hands, thinks it over. He
is deeply moved by_ GEORGE WINTER’S _appeal_. GEORGE, _watching him
keenly, thinks he is going to yield_.

GEORGE WINTER.

We’ve gone through bad times and good together. I’ve been a good friend to you. You’ve never had anything to reproach me with till now.

JAMES FORD.

[_Brokenly._] I can’t risk the money of all these poor people again.

GEORGE WINTER.

Will it satisfy you if I give up the directorship of the Middlepool Trust? Give me six months to save my face and I’ll resign.

[JAMES FORD _looks up at him, wondering if he can put any trust in_
GEORGE WINTER. GEORGE _waits for the decision with beating heart_.
_He feels almost sick with fear._

JAMES FORD.

I’ll tell you what I’ll do. If the bonds are in their place by four o’clock to-morrow I’ll say nothing.

GEORGE WINTER.

[_Astounded._] To-morrow? It can’t be done. It’s impossible.

JAMES FORD.

That’s all I can do for you.

GEORGE WINTER.

[_Hardly knowing what he is saying._] But no one could get it. You know it’s impossible. Even if you gave me a week I couldn’t do it. I can’t, I can’t, I can’t. With the attack on us to-day we’re--we’re tottering. It’s as much as we shall be able to do to hold out till the tide turns. That’s not giving me a chance. Not a chance. To-morrow! It’s absurd!

JAMES FORD.

That’s my last word.

GEORGE WINTER.

You might as well send for the police at once. Oh, my God! It’s impossible.

JAMES FORD.

If the money is not there by the time the bank closes I shall apply for a warrant.

GEORGE WINTER.

D’you know what that means? It means a trial, and then--and then prison.

JAMES FORD.

I can’t do more for you than I’ve offered.

[_The finality of this, the deep regret and the decision in_ FORD’S
_tone, are like a blow in the face to_ GEORGE WINTER. _He gives a
sudden start, and throwing off his humbleness, flies into
ungovernable passion. He whips himself into a rage as he flings the
scornful invective at_ JAMES FORD _and ends up on the last words in
a positive scream of fury_.

GEORGE WINTER.

Oh, it’s infamous. It’s damned hypocrisy. You don’t care if I’ve taken the money or not. You’re afraid of your own skin. And you’re jealous of me. It’s envy. I knew you envied me all the time. D’you think I’ve been taken in by you? You were a little tin god in Middlepool till I came along. You didn’t fight me like a man. You just sided with me, waiting for your chance to trip me up. You think when I’m gone you’ll have the field to yourself. Why shouldn’t you be the member as well as I? It’s mean. It’s mean. You with your damned Christianity, your parrot cries of honesty. Damn you! Damn you! Damn you!

JAMES FORD.

[_Quietly._] You see, you’ve gone too far. I shall never make you understand. You can’t realize that a man may be honest, even if he loses by it, just because he can’t help it, because he’s made straight as some men are made crooked.

GEORGE WINTER.

It’s childish.

JAMES FORD.

You’ve got through the world by knowing that nine men out of ten are rascals. You’ve forgotten that the tenth man must cross your path at last.

[_When he hears these words_ GEORGE WINTER _gives a start, and he
looks at_ FORD _with staring, terrified eyes. He passes his hand
over his forehead, trying to recall._

GEORGE WINTER.

[_Almost to himself._] Who said that to me before?

[_There is a pause._

JAMES FORD.

Good-bye, George. My promise holds.

GEORGE WINTER.

[_Bitterly._] It’s no good to me. I’m like a rat in a trap. You can get what fun you like out of seeing me wriggle.

[_For a moment_ JAMES FORD _looks at him, then silently goes out_.
GEORGE WINTER _is seized with a horrible, convulsive trembling. He
shakes as a man might shake in an ague. With his quick mind he sees
that no subtlety will save him now; he is up against the blank wall
of a character as strong as his own. In a moment_ CATHERINE _enters
the room_.

GEORGE WINTER.

What the devil d’you want?

CATHERINE.

I heard Mr. Ford go. May I speak to you now?

[GEORGE WINTER _makes an effort to appear composed_.

GEORGE WINTER.

Well?

CATHERINE.

Now that the election is over you can have no further use for me. I’ve carried out my part of the bargain scrupulously.

GEORGE WINTER.

[_Putting his hand in a dazed way to his head._] I don’t know what you’re talking about.

CATHERINE.

I understand that I’ve condoned all your offences towards me, and I’m helpless now to do anything. So you need have no fear that I shall interfere with you in any way. [_He turns round and looks at her. He takes in at last what she is saying._] But there’s no reason that I should expose myself any longer to a humiliation that I found unbearable. I’ve come to tell you that now I’ve done all you exacted I’m going to leave you, this time for good. I’m starting early to-morrow morning for the Continent with my friend Barbara Herbert, and I shall not return. You can devise whatever explanation you think necessary, and you may be quite sure I shan’t contradict it. I shall be gone by the time you get up. You will find in my room all the trinkets you’ve given me. I wish to take nothing with me that I have received from you.

GEORGE WINTER.

[_With clenched teeth._] Are you leaving your clothes?

CATHERINE.

[_With a shrug of the shoulders._] I think there is nothing more to be said. Good-bye. I trust you to leave me in peace. I promise on my side to do nothing that can inconvenience you.

[_She waits for a moment to see if he has anything further to say,
but as he remains silent she goes towards the door. As she is about
to go out he bursts into a peal of laughter. She stops with a start
and looks at him. His laughter grows, peal upon peal. It becomes
wild and shrill and hysterical. He bellows with laughter. Already
half frightened, not understanding_, CATHERINE _makes a step or two
back into the room_.

CATHERINE.

What’s the matter? George, George!

[_He laughs still, and then suddenly breaks into a sob. He gives
way entirely, and bursts into uncontrolled weeping._

CATHERINE.

[_Coming down to him._] George, what is it?

GEORGE WINTER.

For God’s sake give me a drink.

[_She hurries to the half-empty bottle of champagne on the table
and pours out a glass of wine. He drinks it at a gulp._

GEORGE WINTER.

[_Recovering himself._] That’s rich, that is. Rich.

[_Again he bursts into laughter._

CATHERINE.

What is it, George? It’s not because I’m going away?

GEORGE WINTER.

Your going away doesn’t matter a damn to me. It means that I’ve been done in the eye. Those swindling rogues, the Lewishams, have got me at last. That article’s done the trick and I’m dished. You can go your own way now, Kate. You’ve got the better of me after all.

CATHERINE.

I don’t understand.

GEORGE WINTER.

James Ford knows that the bonds have gone. And he’s going to Scotland Yard.

CATHERINE.

Oh! And father?

GEORGE WINTER.

Oh, I can’t worry about your father now. He must look after his own skin. I’ve got enough to do to think of myself.

CATHERINE.

What shall I do?

GEORGE WINTER.

He’ll give me till to-morrow to replace them, but I can’t. It’s impossible. And he knows I can’t. Damned hypocrite! I shouldn’t complain if I’d been beaten fairly; but it’s so childish. And just when I’d got the reins in my hand. He can’t countenance dishonesty. It’s childish. I always distrusted him. Sanctimonious prig! He’s jealous of me. He wants to kick me off my perch, so that he can take my place. And I know him. I know him inside out. He’ll do what he says. [_With angry scorn._] It’s his duty.

CATHERINE.

Can’t we sell things? There’s my jewellery.

GEORGE WINTER.

A drop in the ocean. How can I get eighty thousand pounds in a falling market.

CATHERINE.

[_Horrified._] D’you mean to say they’ll arrest you?

GEORGE WINTER.

[_With a dull roar, like a wild beast at bay._] No. D’you think I’m going to stand that, and a trial, and--and all the rest?

CATHERINE.

[_Wringing her hands._] Is there no chance that you may get off?

GEORGE WINTER.

Bennett would give me away to save himself. I know him. There’s not a man I can trust. The only thing’s to have done with it at once. I must get out of it while I have the chance.

CATHERINE.

D’you think there’s any hope of your getting away?

GEORGE WINTER.

My way. Yes.

CATHERINE.

[_Understanding._] Oh, George, you wouldn’t do that.

GEORGE WINTER.

What else d’you expect me to do? D’you think I’m going to bolt to America, to be brought back in six months by a couple of detectives? Not much.

CATHERINE.

Wouldn’t it be better to stay and face it? If you’ve done wrong, can’t you accept your punishment? You’re young still.

GEORGE WINTER.

They won’t have mercy on me. It’ll mean ten years. And when I come out, it’ll mean hiding, doing odd jobs, like Bennett, dirty work for other men who won’t risk their own skins. And what d’you suppose a life like that is worth to me? I want the power, and the notoriety, and the glamour. I wanted men to point me out in the street. I’ve aimed too high to be content with anything but the highest.

CATHERINE.

Oh, it’s horrible.

GEORGE WINTER.

Come, Kate--honestly--if you loved me, wouldn’t you wish me to make an end of it?

CATHERINE.

[_After a long look at him._] Oh, don’t ask me.

GEORGE WINTER.

Will you do something for me? It’s the last thing I’ll ever ask you.

CATHERINE.

I’ll do anything I can.

GEORGE WINTER.

I want half an hour to myself. You must let no one come to me under any pretext whatever.

CATHERINE.

[_With a cry of horror._] You’re not going to do it now?

GEORGE WINTER.

I don’t trust James Ford. He may have gone to Scotland Yard already. Perhaps the detectives are already on their way.

CATHERINE.

You’ve said yourself that he’s to be relied on.

GEORGE WINTER.

Oh, I’m frightened. And what’s the good? I’m dead beat. Perhaps to-morrow I shouldn’t have the nerve.

CATHERINE.

Oh, it’s awful.

GEORGE WINTER.

[_With a laugh._] Why, it’s your freedom.

[_He goes to the table and pours himself out a glass of brandy._

GEORGE WINTER.

I’m mixing my liquors. Bad habit, isn’t it? You’ll be ravishing in black, darling. It always suited you.

[CATHERINE _gives an inarticulate sob_. GEORGE WINTER, _shrugging
his shoulders, goes towards the door_.

GEORGE WINTER.

Will you promise to prevent anyone from disturbing me?

CATHERINE.

Yes.

GEORGE WINTER.

In half an hour you can go to bed.... I hope you’ll sleep as soundly as I shall.

[_He goes out and locks the door behind him._ CATHERINE _hides her
face in her hands and moans with fright and horror. In a moment_
O’DONNELL _comes in_. CATHERINE _starts as she hears him_.

CATHERINE.

I thought you’d gone to bed.

O’DONNELL.

I feel so awfully wide awake. I came in to see if I could find a book.

CATHERINE.

[_Pointing to a table._] There are some over there.

O’DONNELL.

You’re looking dreadfully done up. Why don’t you turn in?

[_At that moment shouts are heard in the square below, cheers and
cries of_ WINTER.

CATHERINE.

[_Frightened._] What’s that?

O’DONNELL.

[_Going to the window._] Oh, it’s closing time. Enthusiastic politicians who’ve been turned out of the public-houses.

[_Cries of_ WINTER, WINTER.

CATHERINE.

Oh, send them away, I can’t bear it.

O’DONNELL.

[_Opening the window and calling out._] Mr. Winter has gone to bed, gentlemen, and I strongly recommend you to follow his example.

[_He shuts the window, amid the laughter and cheers of the
roisterers. They go away singing._ CATHERINE _clenches her hands to
prevent herself from screaming_.

O’DONNELL.

[_With a laugh._] Splendid, aren’t they?

CATHERINE.

Now, you really must go to bed.

O’DONNELL.

[_Taking a book from the table._] All right. I dare say we shall have a busy day to-morrow.... I really think this is the happiest day I’ve ever had. Life is jolly, isn’t it?

CATHERINE.

[_With a strange look at him._] Yes.

O’DONNELL.

Good-night.

CATHERINE.

[_With a sudden start._] Oh!

O’DONNELL.

What’s the matter?

CATHERINE.

I thought I heard a sound.

O’DONNELL.

I didn’t. The hotel’s as still as death, for a wonder. I hope the trains won’t disturb you to-night.

CATHERINE.

Good-night.

[_He goes out._ CATHERINE _turns and looks at the door of_ GEORGE
WINTER’S _room. She takes a step towards it._

CATHERINE.

George!

[_She listens, but there is no answer. With a gesture of horror she
turns away._ FRED BENNETT _bursts into the room_.

BENNETT.

I beg your pardon. I didn’t expect to find any one here. Where’s the Governor?

CATHERINE.

I don’t know.

BENNETT.

I want to see him at once.

CATHERINE.

He can’t see any one to-night.

BENNETT.

He’ll see me.

CATHERINE.

He left instructions that no one was to bother him.

BENNETT.

It’s a matter of life and death.

CATHERINE.

[_With a shiver of apprehension._] I tell you, you can’t see him.

BENNETT.

Isn’t he in his room?

CATHERINE.

No.

BENNETT.

[_Going towards the door._] Are you sure?

CATHERINE.

[_Getting in his way._] He’s tired out. Can’t you let him rest?

BENNETT.

Oh, but you don’t know what’s happened. The mine’s all right. For goodness’ sake, let me go to him.

CATHERINE.

[_Quickly._] What do you mean?

BENNETT.

[_The words tumbling over one another in his hurry._] The manager had taken Macdonald in, hadn’t shown him a new shaft they’d sunk. The place is crammed full of gold. It was only a dodge of the Lewishams. I did what the Governor told me. I just flooded the market with selling orders of their stocks, and at closing time Manny Lewisham sent for me. I smelt a rat. I was too clever for him. He’s offered to take the Governor in. He’ll buy a huge block of shares to-morrow at par. He’s going to pay on the nail. And we’re safe, we’re safe, we’re safe.

CATHERINE.

D’you mean to say....

BENNETT.

[_Interrupting._] It’s what the Governor’s been fighting for for ten years. At last he’s got there. The shares’ll be worth anything you like in a month. It means wealth, safety, everything.

CATHERINE.

Then George is....

BENNETT.

He’s at the top of the tree. He’s where he ought to be. In ten years he’ll be in the House of Lords. Would you like to tell him yourself?

[CATHERINE _hesitates for a moment. She sees her chance of freedom
slipping away from her once more. For a moment she struggles with
herself. All her life, past and future, comes before her in a
flash._

CATHERINE.

I don’t know where he is.

BENNETT.

You don’t know?

CATHERINE.

He went down to the smoking-room.

BENNETT.

I must find him.

[_He runs towards the door, but before he can get out_ CATHERINE
_has a revulsion of feeling_. _She gives a cry._

CATHERINE.

No, stop. He’s in his bedroom. Oh, be quick! Be quick!

[BENNETT _stops and looks at her with surprise. She runs to the
door and beats against it with her hands._

CATHERINE.

George, George, George! Open the door! George, George!

BENNETT.

What’s the matter? What d’you mean?

CATHERINE.

George! It’s all right. Open the door, for God’s sake. [_To_ BENNETT.] Oh, can’t you open the door?

BENNETT.

Good God, what’s he doing?

CATHERINE.

George, George!

[BENNETT _puts his shoulder against it and tries to burst the door
open. It does not yield._

BENNETT.

Governor. It’s me.

CATHERINE.

He locked it. Break the glass.

[_She gives him a bronze ornament which is at her hand, and he
breaks it against the pane of glass which is above the lock. The
glass splinters. He puts his hand in and turns the key. Then he
opens the door and bursts in._

BENNETT.

He’s not there.

CATHERINE.

He must be. He must be.

BENNETT.

The windows are wide open. He must have gone out.

CATHERINE.

There’s nowhere to go. There’s only about two yards of garden and then the line. Call out.

BENNETT.

Perhaps he’s in the garden.

[BENNETT _runs out through the door of_ GEORGE WINTER’S _room. As
he does this_, FRANCIS ETCHINGHAM _comes in from the left, in his
pyjamas and a dressing-gown_.

ETCHINGHAM.

I say, what the devil’s all this row? It’s bad enough to have the trains banging under one’s window all night long. Upon my soul.

CATHERINE.

Where’s George? Father, father!

ETCHINGHAM.

How the deuce should I know?

[BENNETT _comes back_.

BENNETT.

He’s not in the garden anywhere.

CATHERINE.

Oh, I’m so frightened!

ETCHINGHAM.

What on earth’s the matter with you, Kate?

CATHERINE.

Oh, my God, my God!

BENNETT.

We can’t find the Governor.

ETCHINGHAM.

Perhaps he’s gone for a walk.

CATHERINE.

Along the line?

[TEDDIE O’DONNELL _comes running in_. _He has taken his coat and
waistcoat off._

O’DONNELL.

I say, I’ve just seen a most awful accident. A man’s been run over on the line.

[CATHERINE _gives a shrill scream of horror, and, falling on her
knees, hides her face_.

THE END.

* * * * *

Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:

seizes her her by the shoulders=> seizes her by the shoulders {pg 27}

he get’s a month’s hard labour=> he gets a month’s hard labour {pg 101}

rapidily run their eyes=> rapidly run their eyes {pg 141}

He say’s Teddie’s awfully useful=> He says Teddie’s awfully useful {pg 167}