paten upon which there is a piece of
bread.]
VICAR [Taking it mechanically]. Hm! These mysteries are not always
helpful . . . Anyway, I'm glad to see you, Manson. When did you
arrive?
[He begins to break the bread into fragments whilst talking.]
MANSON. Early this morning, sir. I should have come sooner; but I
had a little trouble down at the Customs.
VICAR. Indeed! How was that?
MANSON. They said something about the new Alien Act, sir.
VICAR. Of course, of course. Er . . . You speak English remarkably
well.
MANSON. I have seen a good deal of the English, one time and
another.
VICAR. That's good: it will save a lot of explanation. By-the-bye . . .
My old friend in Brindisi, who recommended you, writes that you bore
a very excellent character with your late employer in India; but there
was one matter he didn't mention-- No doubt you will recognise its
importance in a clergyman's family-- He never mentioned your
religion.
MANSON. I can soon remedy that, sir. My religion is very simple. I
love God and all my brothers.
VICAR [after a pause]. God and your brothers . . .
MANSON. Yes, sir: all of them.
[The VICAR stands thoughtful for a moment. He places the paten on
the table, beside him.]
VICAR [slowly]. That is not always so easy, Manson; but it is my
creed, too.
MANSON. Then-- Brother!
[Rapt in thought, the VICAR takes his profferred hand mechanically.]
[MARY enters. She is a slim young girl in her teens, the picture of rosy
sweetness and health.]
MARY. Good-morning, Uncle William! Oh! . . . I suppose you're
Manson? I must say you look simply ripping! How do you do? My
name's Mary. [She offers her hand.]
MANSON [kissing it]. A very dear name, too!
MARY [embarrassed, blurting]. We were wondering last night about
your religion. I said . . .
VICAR. Mary, my child . . .
MARY. You don't look like a cannibal. After all, even the devil isn't as
black as he's . . . Oh, I beg your pardon: perhaps I'm rude.
VICAR. Yes, indeed you are. Don't take any notice of our little
feather-brain, Manson.
MARY. I say, has uncle told you who's coming to-day?
MANSON. No.
MARY. Not about Uncle Josh?
VICAR. T-t-t! You mustn't call your uncle Joshua that! It is irreverent.
He may resent it.
MARY. You know, _you'll_ make me positively dislike him! Just
fancy, Manson, meeting an uncle whom you've never so much as set
eyes on before! I don't even know what he looks like.
[She is looking MANSON in the face. He returns her gaze curiously.]
MANSON. Then--you have a surprise in store.
MARY. You ought to be awfully interested! You will, when you hear
where he comes from!
MANSON. I _am_--interested.
MARY. Then guess who he is!
MANSON. Guess--when I know already?
MARY. Oh, Uncle Joshua isn't his only name--don't you think that!
He's a very important person, I can tell you! His name's on everybody's
lips!
MANSON [dryly]. Really!
MARY. Can't you guess? . . . Think of the very biggest person you ever
heard of in this world!
MANSON. In this world: that sounds rather like . . . Does he give free
libraries?
MARY. I can't say I ever heard of that; but he does things quite as
wonderful! Listen! What do you think of the BISHOP OF BENARES!!
MANSON [unimpressed]. Oh, it's the--Bishop of Benares, is it?
MARY. I must say, you don't seem very surprised! Surely you've heard
of him? He comes from India.
MANSON [quietly]. I happen to know him.
VICAR. No, really: this is most interesting!
MANSON. As a man might know his own soul, sir--As they say in
India. His work has been mine, so to speak.
VICAR. Bless me, you will know him better than I do. I have never
seen him since I was quite a little lad.
MARY [with prodigious solemnity]. Just you think, Manson! He's my
uncle--my own father's brother!
[MANSON is now up stage between the two.]
MANSON. Your brother, sir?
VICAR [fervently]. I am grateful to God for it, Manson: he is.
[MANSON regards him calmly for a moment: then he turns inquiringly
towards Mary.]
MANSON. Then--Miss Mary? . . .
VICAR [quickly]. Oh, my niece is the daughter of--of my other
brother.
MANSON. I see: two brothers?
VICAR [shortly]. Yes, yes, I have: I--I had.
MANSON [resuming his work at the table]. Thank you, sir: it's always
helpful, coming to a new place, to know who are--and who are not--the
family connections.
VICAR. Come, Rogers! My poor brethren in the church are waiting. I
must see to their necessities at once. [He starts for the door.]
MANSON. Pardon me, sir.
[He hands him the bread which, among
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