CHAPTER X.
In a cozy corner of the electric flame department of the infernalregions there stands a little silver gridiron. It is the privateproperty of his Satanic majesty, and is reserved exclusively for theman who invented amateur theatricals. It is hard to see why theamateur actor has been allowed to work his will unchecked for so long.These performances of his are diametrically opposed to the true sportof civilization, which insists that the good of the many should beconsidered as being of more importance than that of the few.
In the case of amateur theatricals, a large number of inoffensivepeople are annoyed simply in order that a mere handful ofacquaintances may amuse themselves. Usually the whole thing can belaid at the door of the man, the organizer. He is the serpent in theEden. Before his arrival, the house party were completely happy, andasked for nothing else but to be left alone. Then he arrives. Atbreakfast on his first morning, he strikes the first blow--casuallyhelping himself to scrambled eggs the while, with the air of a manuttering some agreeable commonplace. "I say," he remarks, "why not getup some theatricals?" Eve, in the person of some young lady who wouldbe a drawing-room reciter if drawing-room reciters were allowednowadays, snatches at the apple. "Oh, yes," she says. "It ought to befor a charity," suggests somebody else. "Of course for a charity,"says the serpent. Ten minutes later he has revealed the fact that hehas brought down a little thing of his own which will just do, and iscasting the parts. And after that the man who loves peace and quietmay as well pack up and leave. He will have no more rest in thathouse.
In the present case, the serpent was a volatile young gentleman of thename of Charteris. This indomitable person had the love of the stageineradicably implanted in him. He wrote plays, and lived in hopes ofseeing them staged at the leading theatres. Meanwhile, he was contentto bring them out through the medium of amateur performances.
It says much for the basic excellence of this man's character that hewas popular among his fellows, who, liking the man, overlooked theamateur stage manager.
The reign of unrest at the abbey was complete by the time Jimmyarrived there. The preliminary rehearsals had been gone through withby the company, who, being inexperienced, imagined the worst to beover.
Having hustled Jimmy into the vacant part, Charteris gave his energyfree play. He conducted rehearsals with a vigor which occasionallyalmost welded the rabble which he was coaching into somethingapproaching coherency. He never rested. He painted scenery, and leftit about--wet--and people sat on it. He nailed up horseshoes for luck,and they fell on people. He distributed typed parts of the play amongthe company, and they lost them. But nothing daunted him.
"Mr. Charteris," said Lady Blunt after one somewhat energeticrehearsal, "is indefatigable. He whirled me about!"
This was perhaps his greatest triumph, that he had induced Lady Bluntto take part in the piece. Her first remark, on being asked, had beento the effect that she despised acting. Golden eloquence on the partof the author-manager had induced her to modify this opinion; andfinally she had consented, on the understanding that she was not to beexpected to attend every rehearsal, to play a small part.
The only drawback to an otherwise attractive scheme was the fact thatshe would not be able to wear her jewels. Secretly, she would havegiven much to have done so; but the scene in which she was to appearwas a daylight scene, in which the most expensive necklace would beout of place. So she had given up the idea with a stoicism that showedher to be of the stuff of which heroines are made.
These same jewels had ceased, after their first imperious call, totrouble Jimmy to the extent he had anticipated. It had been a bitterstruggle during the first few days of his stay, but gradually he hadfought the craving down, and now watched them across the dinner tableat night with a calm which filled him with self-righteousness. On theother hand, he was uncomfortably alive to the fact that this triumphof his might be merely temporary. There the gems were, winking andbeckoning to him across the table. At any moment----. When his thoughtsarrived at this point, he would turn them--an effort was sometimesnecessary--to Molly. Thinking of her, he forgot the pearls.
But the process of thinking of Molly was not one of unmixed comfort. Agreat uneasiness had gripped him. More than ever, as the days went by,he knew that he loved her, that now the old easy friendship was amockery. But on her side he could see no signs that she desired achange in their relationship. She was still the old Molly of the NewYork days, frank, cheerful unembarrassed. But he found that in thisnew world of hers the opportunities of getting her to himself for anyspace of time were infinitesimal. It was her unfortunate conviction,bred of her American upbringing, that the duty of the hostess is tosee that her guests enjoy themselves. Lady Jane held the English viewthat visitors like to be left to themselves. And Molly, noticing herstepmother's lack of enterprise and putting it down as merely anotherproof of her languid nature, had exerted herself all the more keenlyto do the honors.
The consequence was that Jimmy found himself one of a crowd, anddisliked the sensation.
The thing was becoming intolerable. Here was he, a young man in love,kept from proposing simply by a series of ridiculous obstacles. Itcould not go on. He must get her away somewhere by himself, not for afew minutes, as he had been doing up to the present, but for a solidspace of time.
It was after a long and particularly irritating rehearsal that theidea of the lake suggested itself to him. The rehearsals took place inone of the upper rooms, and through the window, as he leaned gloomilyagainst the wall, listening to a homily on the drama from Charteris,he could see the waters of the lake, lit up by the afternoon sun. Ithad been a terribly hot, oppressive day and there was thunder in theair. The rehearsal had bored everybody unspeakably. It would beheavenly on the lake, thought Jimmy. There was a Canadian canoe mooredto that willow. If he could only get Molly.
"I'm awfully sorry, Jimmy," said Molly, as they walked out into thegarden. "I should love to come. It would be too perfect. But I've halfpromised to play tennis."
"Who wants to play?"
"Mr. Wesson."
A correspondent of a London daily paper wrote to his editor not longago to complain that there was a wave of profanity passing over thecountry. Jimmy added a silent but heartfelt contribution to that wave.
"Give him the slip," he said earnestly. It was the chance of alifetime, a unique chance, perhaps his last chance, and it was to belost for the sake of an ass like Wesson.
Molly looked doubtful.
"Well, come down to the water, and have a look at it," said Jimmy."That'll be better than nothing."
They walked to the water's edge together in silence, Jimmy in a feverof anxiety. He looked behind him. No signs of Wesson yet. All mightstill be well.
"It does look nice, Jimmy, doesn't it?" said Molly, placing a foot onthe side of the boat and rocking it gently.
"Come on," said Jimmy hoarsely. "Give him the slip. Get in."
Molly looked round hesitatingly.
"Well--oh, bother, there he is. And he's seen me."
Jimmy followed her gaze. The dapper figure of Mr. Wesson was movingdown the lawn. He had a tennis racquet in his hand. His face wore aninviting smile.
Jimmy glared at him hopelessly.
Mr. Wesson had vanished now behind the great clamp of laurels whichstood on the lowest terrace. In another moment he would reappear roundthem.
"Bother!" said Molly again. "Jimmy!" For gently, but with extremefirmness and dispatch, Jimmy, who ought to have known better, hadseized her hand on the other side of the waist, swung her off herfeet, and placed her carefully on the cushions in the bow of thecanoe.
Then he had jumped in himself with a force which made the boat rock,and was now paddling with the silent energy of a dangerous lunaticinto the middle of the lake; while Mr. Wesson, who had by this timerounded the laurels, stood transfixed, gazing glassily after theretreating vessel.
To the casual spectator, he might have seemed stricken dumb.
But at the end of the first ten seconds any f
ear that the casualspectator might have entertained as to the permanence of the seizurewould have been relieved.