The Man from Home | Page 7

with a silver dish of caviar and a bottle of vodka. As he enters he hesitates for one moment, looking inquiringly at RIBIERE, who motions him quickly toward MARIANO and MICHELE, and withdraws. Valet rapidly crosses right to table, sets caviar and vodka on the table, and exits up left. The others pay no attention to any of this.]
ALMERIC. I went up to this Yankee chap, I mean to say--he was pullin' and tuggin' along, you see, don't you?--and I said, "There you are, three of you all in a row, _aren't_ you?"--meanin' him and the two donkeys, Ethel, you see.
LADY CREECH [who has been leaning close to ALMERIC to listen]. Dreadful person!
ALMERIC [continuing]. All he could answer was that he'd picked the best company in sight.
ETHEL [annoyed, half under her breath]. Impertinent!
ALMERIC. No meanin' to it. I had him, you know, I rather think, didn't I?
[HAWCASTLE enters with MADAME DE CHAMPIGNY, a number of folded newspapers under his arm. Simultaneously loud cheers are heard from the village and a general renewal of the commotion.]
HAWCASTLE. Disgusting uproar!
MADAME DE CHAMPIGNY [to ETHEL]. But we know that such Americans are not of your class, cherie.
ETHEL. A dreadful person, I quite fear.
HAWCASTLE. The English papers.
[Lays papers on one of the tea-tables.]
ALMERIC. I'll take the _Pink 'Un_, Governor. I'm off.
[Starts to go, the _Pink 'Un_ under his arm.]
ETHEL [rather shyly]. For a stroll, Almeric? Would you like me to go with you?
ALMERIC [somewhat embarrassed]. Well, I rather thought I'd have a quiet bit of readin', you know.
ETHEL [coldly]. Oh!
[Exit ALMERIC rapidly up left.]
LADY CREECH [in a deep and gloomy voice]. The Church Register!
[HAWCASTLE gives her a paper. HORACE takes the London Mail. HAWCASTLE takes the Times.]
[ETHEL and MADAME DE CHAMPIGNY walk back to the terrace railing, chatting. The others seat themselves about the tea-tables to read.]
HORACE [unfolding his paper, speaks crossly to MARIANO]. Mariano, how long is this noise to continue?
MARIANO [distractedly]. How can I know? We can do nothing.
MICHELE [smilingly, looking up from table where he has continued to work]. The people outside will not go while they think there is once more a chance to see the North American who pull the automobile with those donkeys.
MARIANO. He have confuse' me; he have confuse' everybody. He will not be content with the déjeuner till he have the ham and the eggs. And he will have the eggs cooked only on one side, and how in the name of heaven can we tell which side?
RIBIERE [appearing in the hotel doorway, speaks sharply but not loudly]. Gar?on!
[MICHELE and MARIANO instantly step back from table and stand at attention, facing front, like soldiers. RIBIERE exits quickly again into hotel.]
HAWCASTLE [looking up from paper]. Upon my soul, who's all this?
MARIANO [not turning his head, replies in an awed undertone]. It is Herr von Gr?llerhagen, a German gentleman, Milor'.
HAWCASTLE [amused, to HORACE]. Man that owned the automobile. Probably made a fortune in sausages.
VASILI [heard within the hotel, approaching]. Nein, nein, Ribiere! 'S macht nichts!
[He enters from the hotel. He is a portly man of forty-five, but rather soldierly than fat. His hair, pompadour, is reddish blond, beginning to turn gray, like his mustache and large full beard; the latter somewhat "Henry IV." and slightly forked at bottom. His dress produces the effect rather of carelessness than of extreme fashion. He wears a travelling-suit of gray, neat enough but not freshly pressed, the trousers showing no crease, the coat cut in "walking-coat style," with big, slanting pockets, in which he carries his gloves, handkerchief, matches, and a silver cigarette-case full of Russian cigarettes. On his head is a tan-colored automobile cap with buttoned flaps. He is followed by RIBIERE, who, anxious and perturbed, wishes to call his attention to the item in the Neapolitan morning paper.]
VASILI [waving both RIBIERE and the paper aside, in high good-humor]. Las' mich, las' mich! Geh'n sie weg!
[RIBIERE bows submissively, though with a gesture of protest, and exit into the hotel. The group about the tea-table watch VASILI with hostility.]
LADY CREECH. What a dreadful person!
[VASILI crosses to his seat at the breakfast-table in front of MARIANO and MICHELE, who bows profoundly as he passes.]
VASILI [lifting his hand in curt, semi-military salute, to acknowledge the waiters' bows]. See to my American friend.
[MICHELE immediately hastens into the hotel. VASILI sits, and MARIANO serves him.]
HAWCASTLE [to LADY CREECH, in her ear]. Quite right; but take care, he speaks English.
LADY CREECH [glaring at VASILI]. Many thoroughly objectionable persons do!
VASILI [apparently oblivious to her remark, to MARIANO]. My American friend wishes his own national dish.
MARIANO [deferentially, and serving VASILI to caviar]. Yes, Herr von Gr?llerhagen, he will have the eggs on but one of both sides and the hams fried. So he go to cook it himself.
[Loud shouts and wild laughter from the street. HORACE, ALMERIC, and LADY CREECH