The Great Adventure | Page 5

You see, don't you?
PASCOE. Quite.
CARVE. Why, even on the Continent, in the big towns and the big hotels, we often travel incognito for safety. It's only in the country districts that he goes about under his own name.
PASCOE. So that he's really got no friends?
CARVE. None, except a few Italian and Spanish peasants--and me.
PASCOE. Well, well! It's an absolute mania then, this shyness.
CARVE. (Slightly hurt.) Oh, not so bad as that! And then it's only fair to say he has his moments of great daring--you may say rashness.
PASCOE. All timid people are like that.
CARVE. Are they? (Musing.) We're here now owing to one of his moments of rashness.
PASCOE. Indeed!
CARVE. Yes. We met an English lady in a village in Andalusia, and--well, of course, I can't tell you everything--but she flirted with him and he flirted with her.
PASCOE. Under his own name?
CARVE. Yes. And then he proposed to her. I knew all along it was a blunder.
PASCOE. (Ironic.) Did you?
CARVE. Yes. She belonged to the aristocracy, and she was one of those amateur painters that wander about the Continent by themselves--you know.
PASCOE. And did she accept?
CARVE. Oh yes. They got as far as Madrid together, and then all of a sudden my esteemed saw that he had made a mistake.
PASCOE. And what then?
CARVE. We fled the country. We hooked it. The idea of coming to London struck him--just the caprice of a man who's lost his head--and here we are.
PASCOE. (After a pause.) He doesn't seem to me from the look of him to be a man who'd--shall we say?--strictly avoided women.
CARVE. (Startled, with a gesture towards back.) Him?
(PASCOE nods.)
Really! Confound him! Now I've always suspected that; though he manages to keep his goings-on devilish quiet.
PASCOE. (Rising.) It occurs to me, my friend, that I'm listening to too much. But you're so persuasive.
CARVE. It's such a pleasure to talk freely--for once in a way.
PASCOE. Freely--is the word.
CARVE. Oh! He won't mind!
PASCOE. (In a peculiar tone.) It's quite possible!
(Enter HORNING.)
HORNING. (To Carve.) I say, it's just occurred to me, Mr. Carve hasn't been digging or gardening or anything, I suppose, and then taken cold after?
CARVE. Digging? Oh no. He must have got a bad chill on the steamer. Why?
HORNING. Nothing. Only his hands and finger-nails are so rough.
CARVE. (After thinking.) Oh, I see! All artists are like that. Messing about with paints and acids and things. Look at my hands.
PASCOE. But are you an artist too?
CARVE. (Recovering himself, calmly.) No, no.
PASCOE. (To Horning.) How's he going on?
HORNING. (Shrugs his shoulders.) I'm sure the base of both lungs is practically solid.
PASCOE. Well, we can't do more than we have done, my boy.
HORNING. He'll never pull through.
PASCOE. (Calmly.) I should certainly be surprised if he did.
CARVE. (Astounded.) But--but----
PASCOE. But what?
CARVE. You don't mean to say--Why, he's a strong healthy man!
PASCOE. Precisely. Not very unusual for your strong healthy man to die of pneumonia in twenty-four hours. You ought to know, at your age, that it's a highly dangerous thing to be strong and healthy. (Turning away.) I'll have another look at him before I go.
CARVE. (Extremely perturbed.) But this is ridiculous. I simply don't know what I shall do without that man.
The stage is darkened for a few moments to indicate passage of time.

SCENE 2
TIME.--The next morning but one. Slightly less disorder in the room.
CARVE and PASCOE are together, the latter ready to leave.
CARVE. Will there have to be an inquest?
PASCOE. Inquest? Of course not.
CARVE. It's some relief to know that. I couldn't have faced a coroner.
PASCOE. (Staring at him.) Perfectly ordinary case.
CARVE. That's what you call perfectly ordinary, is it? A man is quite well on Tuesday afternoon, and dead at 4 a.m. on Thursday morning. (Looking at his watch.) My watch has stopped.
PASCOE. (With fierce sarcasm.) One of those cheap German watches, I suppose, that stop when you don't wind them up! It's a singular thing that when people stay up all night they take it for granted their watches are just as excited as they are. Look here, you'll be collapsing soon. When did you have anything to eat last?
CARVE. Almost half an hour ago. Two sausages that were sent in yesterday for the nurse.
PASCOE. She's gone?
CARVE. Oh yes.
PASCOE. Well, take my advice. Try to get some sleep now. You've had no reply from the relatives--the auctioneer cousin--what's his Christian name--Cyrus?
CARVE. No, I--I didn't telegraph--I forgot----
PASCOE. Well, upon my soul! I specially reminded you yesterday afternoon.
CARVE. I didn't know the address.
PASCOE. Ever heard of the London Directory? You'd better run out and wire instantly. You don't seem to realize that the death of a man like Ilam Carve will make something of a stir in the world. And you may depend on it that whether they'd quarrelled or not, Cyrus Carve will want to know why he wasn't informed of the