The Project Gutenberg eBook ofGoldThis ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.Title: GoldA play in four actsAuthor: Eugene O'NeillRelease date: December 17, 2023 [eBook #72442]Language: EnglishOriginal publication: New York: Boni & Liveright, Inc, 1920Credits: Mary Glenn Krause, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GOLD ***
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.
Title: GoldA play in four actsAuthor: Eugene O'NeillRelease date: December 17, 2023 [eBook #72442]Language: EnglishOriginal publication: New York: Boni & Liveright, Inc, 1920Credits: Mary Glenn Krause, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)
Title: Gold
A play in four acts
Author: Eugene O'Neill
Author: Eugene O'Neill
Release date: December 17, 2023 [eBook #72442]
Language: English
Original publication: New York: Boni & Liveright, Inc, 1920
Credits: Mary Glenn Krause, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GOLD ***
GOLD
PLAYS BYEUGENE G. O’NEILL————THE MOON OF THE CARIBBEESand Six Other Plays of the SeaBEYOND THE HORIZONTHE STRAWGOLD
PLAYS BYEUGENE G. O’NEILL————THE MOON OF THE CARIBBEESand Six Other Plays of the SeaBEYOND THE HORIZONTHE STRAWGOLD
A PLAY IN FOUR ACTSBYEUGENE G. O’NEILLBONI AND LIVERIGHTPUBLISHERS NEW YORKGoldCopyright, 1920, byBoni & Liveright, Inc.Printed in the United States of America
Time of the play—About the year 1900
Scene—A small, barren coral island on the southern fringe of the Malay Archipelago. The coral sand, blazing white under the full glare of the sun, lifts in the right foreground to a long hummuck a few feet above sea-level. A stunted coco palm rises from the center of this elevation, its bunch of scraggly leaves drooping motionlessly, casting a small circular patch of shadow directly beneath on the ground about the trunk. About a hundred yards in the distance the lagoon is seen, its vivid blue contrasting with the white coral beach which borders its circular outline. The far horizon to seaward is marked by a broad band of purplish haze which separates the bright blue of the water from the metallic grey-blue of the sky. The island bakes. The intensity of the sun’s rays is flung back skyward in a quivering mist of heat-waves which distorts the outlines of things, giving the visible world an intangible eerie quality, as if it were floating submerged in some colorless molten fluid.As the curtain rises,Abelis discovered lying asleep, curled up in the patch of shade beneath the coco palm. He is a runty, under-sized boy of fifteen, with a shrivelled old face, tanned to parchment by the sum. He has on a suit of dirty dungarees, man’s size, much too large for him, which hang in loose folds from his puny frame. A thatch of brown hair straggles in limp wisps from under the peaked canvas cap he wears. He looks terribly exhausted. His dreams are evidently fraught with terror, for he twitches convulsively and moans with fright.Butlerenters hurriedly, panting, from the right, rear. He is a tall man of over middle age, dressed in the faded remainder of what was once a brown suit. The coat, the buttons of which have been torn off, hangs open, revealing his nakedness beneath. A cloth cap covers his bald head, with its halo of dirty thin grey hair. His body is emaciated. His face, with its round, blue eyes, is weathered and cracked by the sun’s rays. The wreck of a pair of heavy shoes flop about his bare feet. He looks back cautiously, as if he were afraid of being followed; then satisfied that he is not, he approaches the sleeping boy, and bending down, puts his hand onAbel’sforehead.Abelgroans and opens his eyes. He stares about furtively, as if seeking someone whose presence he dreads to find.
Scene—A small, barren coral island on the southern fringe of the Malay Archipelago. The coral sand, blazing white under the full glare of the sun, lifts in the right foreground to a long hummuck a few feet above sea-level. A stunted coco palm rises from the center of this elevation, its bunch of scraggly leaves drooping motionlessly, casting a small circular patch of shadow directly beneath on the ground about the trunk. About a hundred yards in the distance the lagoon is seen, its vivid blue contrasting with the white coral beach which borders its circular outline. The far horizon to seaward is marked by a broad band of purplish haze which separates the bright blue of the water from the metallic grey-blue of the sky. The island bakes. The intensity of the sun’s rays is flung back skyward in a quivering mist of heat-waves which distorts the outlines of things, giving the visible world an intangible eerie quality, as if it were floating submerged in some colorless molten fluid.
As the curtain rises,Abelis discovered lying asleep, curled up in the patch of shade beneath the coco palm. He is a runty, under-sized boy of fifteen, with a shrivelled old face, tanned to parchment by the sum. He has on a suit of dirty dungarees, man’s size, much too large for him, which hang in loose folds from his puny frame. A thatch of brown hair straggles in limp wisps from under the peaked canvas cap he wears. He looks terribly exhausted. His dreams are evidently fraught with terror, for he twitches convulsively and moans with fright.Butlerenters hurriedly, panting, from the right, rear. He is a tall man of over middle age, dressed in the faded remainder of what was once a brown suit. The coat, the buttons of which have been torn off, hangs open, revealing his nakedness beneath. A cloth cap covers his bald head, with its halo of dirty thin grey hair. His body is emaciated. His face, with its round, blue eyes, is weathered and cracked by the sun’s rays. The wreck of a pair of heavy shoes flop about his bare feet. He looks back cautiously, as if he were afraid of being followed; then satisfied that he is not, he approaches the sleeping boy, and bending down, puts his hand onAbel’sforehead.Abelgroans and opens his eyes. He stares about furtively, as if seeking someone whose presence he dreads to find.
Abel—[In a husky voice.] Where’s Capt’n and the rest, Butts?
Butler—[In a hoarse, cracked whisper.]—On the beach—down there. [He makes an exhausted gesture, right, and then sinks with a groan at the foot of the tree, leaning back against the trunk, trying vainly to hunch his long legs up so as to be completely in the shade.]
Abel—What’re they doin’? [With avid eyes.] They ain’t found no water yet?
Butler—[Shaking his head, his eyes closing wearily.] No. How would they—when there ain’t any—not on this devil’s island—dry as a bone, my sonny—sand and sun—that’s all.
Abel—[Remonstratingly—his lips trembling a little.] Aw—maybe—you don’t know no different.
Butler—No. Might as well look the devil in the face, sonny. There’s no water here. Not a damn drop. No—nor a scrap to eat, neither. Only the damn sun. [Weakly—touching the skin of his face with trembling fingers.] God! My face is like the raw inside of a wet hide! If it’d only rain! [After a pause—kindly.] But how are you, eh? Had a good sleep?
Abel—I was dreamin’ awful. [With a sudden, shrill agony—his lips twitching.] I need a drink of water—something awful! My mouth’s burnin’ up. [With tremulous pleading.] Say, ain’t you got ’nother drink left?—honest, ain’t you?
Butler—[Looking around him cautiously.] Not so loud! [Fixing his eyes sternly on the boy.] This is a dead secret, mind! You’ll swear you won’t blab—not to him?
Abel—Sure, Butts, sure! Gawd strike me dead!
Butler—[Takes a pint bottle from the hip-pocket of his pants. It is about half full of water.] He don’t know I’ve got this, remember! He—and the rest—they’d kill me like a dog—and you too, sonny—remember that!
Abel—Sure! I ain’t goin’ to tell ’em, Butts. [Stretching out his hands frenziedly.] Aw, give it to me, Butts! Give me a drink, for Christ’s sake!
Butler—No, you don’t! I’ll hold it for you. Only a few drops. You’d have it all down your throat. And we’ve got to be careful. It’s got to last ’til the ship comes past that’ll pick us up. That’s the only hope. [Holding the bottle at arm’s length from the boy.] Hands down, now—or you don’t get a drop! [The boy lets his hands drop to his sides.Butlerputs the bottle carefully to his lips, and allows the boy two gulps—then snatches it away.] That’s all now. More later. [He takes one gulp himself, and making a tremendous effort of will, jerks the bottle from his lips, and corking it quickly, thrusts it back in his pocket and heaves a shuddering sigh.]
Abel—Aw, more! Just another swaller——
Butler—[Determinedly.] No!
Abel—[Crying weakly.] Yuh dirty mut!
Butler—[Quietly.] There! Don’t get riled. It only makes you hotter—and thirstier. [The boy sinks back exhausted and closes his eyes.Butlerbegins to talk in a more assured voice, as if the sip of water had renewed his courage.] That’ll save us yet, that bit of water. A lucky notion of mine to think of it—at the last moment. They were just lowering the boots. I could hear you calling to me to hurry and come. They didn’t care if I went down with that stinking whaling ship or not, damn them! What did the dirty cook matter to them? But I thought of filling this bottle. It’d been lying there in the galley for two years almost. I’d had it on my hip, full of whiskey, that night in Oakland when I was shanghied. So I filled it out of a bucket before I ran to the boat. Lucky I did, son—for you and me—not for them—damn ’em!
Abel—[Struggling to a sitting posture, evidently strengthened by his drink.] Gee if the Old Man was wise you got it——
Butler—He won’t know—nor Horne, nor Cates, nor Jimmy Kanaka, neither. [As if in self-justification.] Why should I tell ’em, eh? Did I ever get anything better than a kick or a curse from one of them? [Vindictively.] Would they give it to me if they had it? They’d see me in hell first! And besides, it’s too late for them. They’re mad as hatters right now, the four of them. They ain’t had a dropsince three nights back, when the water in the cask gave out and we rowed up against this island in the dark. Think of it, and them out walking and roasting in the sun all day, looking for water where there ain’t any. Wouldn’t you be crazy? [Suddenly he laughs queerly.] Didn’t you hear them shouting and yelling like lunatics just before I came?
Abel—I thought I heard something—on’y maybe I was dreamin’.
Butler—It’s them that are doing the dreaming. I was with them. I had to go. [With rising anger.] He kicked me awake—and every time I tried to get away he beat me back. He’s strong yet—[With threatening vindictiveness.]—but he can’t last long, damn him! [Controlling himself, goes on with his story excitedly.] Well, we went looking for water—on this sand pile. Then Jimmy Kanaka saw a boat sunk half under down inside the reef—a Malay canoe, only bigger. They got down in her the best way they could, up to their waists in water. They thought there might be something to drink on her. I was trying to sneak off, scared to go in on account of sharks. All of a sudden they gave an awful yell. I thought they’d found something to drink and ran back. They was all standing about a box they’d forced open, yelling and cursing and out of their heads completely. When I looked I seen the box was full of all sorts of metal junk—bracelets and bands and necklaces that I guess the Malays wear.Nothing but brass and copper, and bum imitations of diamonds and things—not worth a dam; and there they were, shouting with joy and slapping each other on the back. And that hellion of a skipper shouts at me: “Get out of this! No share here for a stinking cook!” he yells. I didn’t say nothing but just picked up some of the stuff to make sure. Then I told him straight. “This ain’t gold. It’s brass and copper—not worth a damn.” God, he got wild! I had to run, or he’d knifed me—then and there. That was when I woke you up.
Abel—And ain’t it worth nothin’, honest? How’d you know it ain’t?
Butler—D’you think I ain’t learned to know gold in my time? And polished enough copper and brass to know them, too? Just as if it was gold it’d do ’em any good! You can’t drink gold, can you? [With sudden violence.] It serves ’em right, all that’s happened and going to happen. Kicks and smacks in the face if I even winked an eye—two years of it! And me shanghied when I was drunk—taken away from a good job and forced to cook the swill on a rotten whaler. Oh, I’ll pay him back for it! His damn ship is wrecked and lost to him—that’s the first of it. I’ll see him rot and die—and the three with him! But you and me’ll be saved! D’you know why I’ve let you go halves on this water, instead of hogging it all myself? It’s because you were the only one on board that didn’t treat me like a dog—and they kicked and beat you, too. We were in the same boat. And now we’ll get even! Them and their dirty box of junk! [He sinks back, exhausted by this outburst.]
Abel—[Suddenly, in a piteous voice.] Gee, I wisht I was back home again!
Butler—You’ll get back. We both will. [He closes his eyes. After a pause—weakly.] When I close my eyes, everything gets to rocking under me, like I was in that open boat again. I won’t forget these four days in a hurry. Up and down—— Nothing but sun and water. [They are both silent, leaning with closed eyes against the bole of the tree, panting exhaustedly. A murmur of men’s voices comes from the right, rear, and gradually get nearer.]
Abel—[Opening his eyes with a start.] Butts! I hear ’em comin’!
Butler—[Listening, wide-eyed, for a moment.] Yes, it’s them. [He gets to his feet weakly.] Come, let’s get out of this. [Abelstaggers to his feet. They both move to the left.Butlershades his eyes with his hands and looks toward the beach.] Look! They’re dragging along that box of junk with ’em, the damn fools! [Warningly.] They’re crazy as hell. Don’t give ’em no chance to pick on you, d’you hear? They’d stop at nothing when they’re this way. [There is a scuffling of heavy footsteps in the sand, andCaptain Bartlettappears,followed byHorne,who in turn is followed byCatesandJimmy Kanaka.Bartlettis a tall, huge-framed figure of a man, dressed in a blue double-breasted coat, pants of the same material, and rubber sea-boots turned down from the knees. In spite of the ravages of hunger and thirst there is still a suggestion of immense strength in his heavy-muscled body. His head is massive, thickly covered with tangled, iron-grey hair. His face is large, bony, and leather-tanned, with a long aquiline nose and a gash of a mouth shadowed by a bristling grey mustache. His broad jaw sticks out at an angle of implacable stubbornness. Bushy grey brows overhang the obsessed glare of his sombre dark eyes.Silas Horneis a thin, parrot-nosed, angular old man, his lean face marked by a life-time of crass lusts and mean cruelty. He is dressed in grey cotton trousers, and a singlet torn open across his hairy chest. The exposed skin of his arms and shoulders and chest has been blistered and seared by the sun. A cap is on his head.Catesis squat and broad-chested, with thick, stumpy legs and arms. His square, stupid face, with its greedy pig’s eyes, is terribly pock-marked. He is gross and bestial, an unintelligent brute. He is dressed in dungaree pants and a dirty white sailor’s blouse, and wears a brown cap.Jimmy Kanakais a tall, sinewy, bronzed young Islander. He wears only a loin cloth and a leather belt with a sheath-knife. The last two arestaggering beneath the weight of a heavy inlaid chest. The eyes of the three white men are wild. They pant exhaustedly, their legs trembling with weakness beneath them. Their lips are puffed and cracked, their voices muffled by their swollen tongues. But there is a mad air of happiness, of excitement, about their scorched faces.]
Bartlett—[In a crooning, monotonous voice.] It’s heavy, I know, heavy—that chest. Up, bullies! Up with her! [He flings himself in the shade, resting his back against the tree, and points to the sand at his feet.] Put ’er there, bullies—there where I kin see!
Horne—[Echoing his words mechanically.] Put’er there!
Cates—[In thick, stupid tones.] Aye-aye, sir! Down she goes, Jimmy! [They set the chest down.]
Bartlett—Sit down, lads, sit down. Ye’ve earned your spell of rest. [The three men throw themselves on the sand in attitudes of spent weariness. Bartlett’s eyes are fixed gloatingly on the chest. There is a silence suddenly broken by Cates, who leaps to a kneeling position with a choked cry.]
Cates—[His eyes staring at the Captain with fierce insistence.] I want a drink—water! [The others are startled into a rigid, dazzed attention.Horne’slips move painfully in a soundless repetition of the word. There is a pause. Then Bartlett strikes the side of his head with his fist, as if to drivethis obsession from his brain.ButlerandAbelstand looking at them with frightened eyes.]
Bartlett—[Having regained control over himself, in a determined voice, deep-toned and menacing.] If ye speak that word ever again, Ben Cates—if ye say it once again—ye’ll be food for the sharks! Ye hear?
Cates—[Terrified.] Yes, sir. [He collapses limply on the sand again.Horneand theKanakarelax hopelessly.]
Bartlett—[With heavy scorn.] Are ye a child to take on like a sick woman—cryin’ for what ye know we’ve not got? Can’t ye stand up under a little thirst like a man? [Resolutely.] There’ll be water enough—if ye’ll wait and keep a stiff upper lip on ye. We’ll all be picked up today. I’ll stake my word on it. This state o’ things can’t last. [His eyes fall on the chest.] Ye ought to be singin’ ’stead o’ cryin’—after the find we’ve made. What’s the lack of water amount to—when ye’ve gold before you? [With mad exultation.] Gold! Enough of it in your share alone to buy ye rum, and wine, and women, too, for the rest o’ your life!
Cates—[Straightening up to a sitting posture—his small eyes staring at the box fascinatedly—in a stupid mumble.] Aye—aye—rum and wine!
Bartlett—[Half closing his eyes as if the better to enjoy his vision.] Yes, rum and wine and women for you and Horne and Jimmy. No more hard workon the dirty sea for ye, bullies, but a full pay-day in your pockets to spend each day o’ the year. [The three strain their ears, listening eagerly. EvenButlerandAbeladvance a step or two toward him, as if they, too, were half hypnotized.] And Cates grumbling because he’s thirsty! I’d be the proper one to complain—if complainin’ there was to do! Ain’t I lost my ship and the work o’ two years with her? And what have ye lost, all three, but a few rags o’ clothes? [With savage emphasis.] I tell ye, I be glad the Triton went down! [He taps the box with his fingers.] They’s more in this than ever was earned by all the whalin’ ships afloat. They’s gold—heavy and solid—and diamonds and emeralds and rubies!—red and green, they be.
Cates—[Licking his lips.] Aye, I seen ’em there—and emeralds be green, I know, and sell for a ton of gold!
Bartlett—[As if he hadn’t heard and was dreaming out loud to himself.] Rum and wine for you three, and rest for me. Aye, I’ll rest to home ’til the day I die. Aye, woman, I be comin’ home now for good. Aye, Nat and Sue, your father be comin’ home for the rest o’ his life! No more stinkin’ blubber on the deck. I’ll give up whalin’ like ye’ve always been askin’ me, Sarah. Aye, I’ll go to meetin’ with ye on a Sunday like ye’ve always prayed I would. We’ll make the damn neighbors open their eyes, curse ’em! Carriages and silks for ye—they’llbe nothin’ too good—and for Sue and the boy. I’ve been dreamin’ o’ this in my sleep for years. I never give a damn ’bout the oil—that’s just trade—but I always hoped on some voyage I’d pick up ambergris—a whole lot of it—and that’s worth gold!
Horne—[His head bobbing up from his chest—drowsily.] Aye, ambergris! It’s costly truck.
Butler—[In a whisper to the boy—cautiously.] There! Wasn’t I right? Mad as hatters, all of ’em! Come on away!
Abel—[Staring at the Captain fascinatedly.] No. I wanter see ’em open it.
Butler—Look out! You’ll be going batty yourself, first thing you know. [But he also stays.]
Bartlett—[His voice more and more that of a somnambulist.] It’s time I settled down to home with ye, Sarah, after twenty years o’ whalin’. They’s plenty o’ big trees on my place, bullies, and shade and green grass, and a cool wind off the sea. [He shakes off the growing drowsiness and glares about him in a rage.] Hell’s fire! What crazy truck be I thinkin’ of? [But he and the others sink back immediately into stupor. After a pause he begins to relate a tale in a droning voice.] Years ago, when I was whalin’ out o’ New Bedford—just after I got my first ship, it was—a man come to me—Spanish-looking, he was—and wanted to charter my ship and me go shares. He showed me a map o’ some island off the coast of South America somewhere. They wasa cross marked on it where treasure had been buried by the old pirates. That was what he said. But I was a fool. I didn’t believe him. I didn’t see’s I could take a chance. He got old Scott’s schooner—finally. She sailed and never was heard o’ since. But I’ve never forgot him and his map. And often I’ve thought if I’d ’a’ went that vige—— [He straightens up and shouts with aggressive violence.] But here she be! Run right into it—without no map nor nothin’. Gold and diamonds and all—all them things he said was there—there they be in front o’ our eyes! [To the now alertJimmy.] Open ’er up, Jimmy!
Jimmy—[Getting up—in his soft voice.] Aye, Captain. [He reaches down to lift the lid.]
Bartlett—[A sudden change of feeling comes over him, and he knocksJimmy’sarm aside savagely.] Hands off, ye dog! I’m takin’ care o’ this chest, and no man’s hand’s goin’ to touch it but mine!
Jimmy—[Stepping back docilely—in the same unmoved, soft tone.] Aye, Captain. [He squats down to the left of the chest.]
Bartlett—[Seeming suddenly to notice the cook for the first time.] So there you be, eh? [His voice growing thick with rage.] I ain’t forgot what ye said down by the shore there! Lucky for ye I didn’t catch ye then! “Brass and copper—junk,” ye said—“not gold! Not worth a damn,” ye said! Yeblasted son o’ a liar! No share for ye! I’ll not forget. And keep your distance o’ me if ye want your hide! [Looking atAbel.] Ye’ve been tellin’ that boy your lies too, I kin tell by the look o’ him. [Sternly.] Come here, boy!
Abel—[Advances with faltering steps.] Y-yes, s-sir?
Bartlett—Open up that chest! Open it up, ye brat! [With a desperate movement of fearAbelreaches down and flings open the lid of the chest.As he does so,Bartlett’shuge hand fastens on the collar of his coat, and holds him with face bent over the box.Horne,Cates,andJimmy Kanakapull themselves close, their necks craning for a look inside.Butlertakes a few steps toward them.]
Butler—[In a low uncertain tone.] Maybe I was wrong, Captain Bartlett, sir.
Bartlett—[Shaking the terror-stricken boy.] What d’ye see there, ye little swab? What d’ye see there?
Abel—Aw—leggo—I’m chokin’!
Bartlett—[Grimly.] Ye’ll choke in earnest if ye don’t answer me. What d’ye see? Is it gold? Answer me—is it gold?
Abel—[Stutteringly.] Yes—sure—gold—I see it!
Bartlett—[Thrusts him away. The boy staggers and falls to the sand.Bartlettturns toButlertriumphantly.] Ye see, ye liar? Gold! Gold!Even a child can tell it at a look. [With a sombre menace in his tone.] But ye—don’t believe—do ye?
Butler—[Frightenedly.] Maybe I was wrong, sir. I—didn’t—look very careful.
Bartlett—Come here! [He stands up, his back against the tree.] Come here!
Butler—Yes, sir. [But he looks about him shiftily, as if to run away.]
Bartlett—Jimmy! [TheKanakaleaps to his feet.] Knife him, Jimmy, if he tries to run.
Jimmy—[His hand goes to his knife, his dark eyes lighting up with savagery—in his soft voice.] Aye, Captain!
Bartlett—[To the trembling cook.] Come here!
Butler—[Goes to him with the courage of desperation.] Yes, sir.
Bartlett—[Pointing to the contents of the chest.] Is it gold—or not?
Butler—If I can feel of one——
Bartlett—Pick one up.
Butler—[Picks up a heavy anklet encrusted with colored glass, looks at it for a minute—then feigning great assurance.] I was wrong, Captain. It’s gold all right enough—worth all kinds of money, I bet.
Bartlett—[With mad triumph.] Ha! Ye’ve come to your senses, have ye? Too late, ye swab! No share for ye! And here’s to teach ye for lyin’ to me before! [His fist jerks out from his side, andButleris knocked sprawling on the sand, where he lies groaning for a moment, the anklet still clutched in his hand. The boy gives a gasp of fright and scampers off, left.]
Bartlett—That’ll learn ye! [He sits down beside the chest. The others crouch close. Bartlett shoves in both of his hands—in a tone of mad gloating.] Gold! Better’n whaling, ain’t she, boys? Better’n ambergris, even if I ever had luck to find any! [Butlerstaggers to his feet. He examines the anklet with contemptuous scorn and even bites it to make sure. Then he edges stealthily toward the left. A sudden transformation comes over his face and he glowers at the Captain with hatred, his features distorted with fury.]
Jimmy Kanaka—[Pointing toButler.] He got him, Captain!
Bartlett—[Glancing at the cook with contemptuous scorn.] Sneakin’ away with that piece o’ the gold, be ye? Ye thievin’ swine! Ye know right enough it’s gold now, don’t ye? Well, ye kin keep it—for your share for speakin’ the truth that once.
Horne—[His cupidity protesting.] Don’t give it to him, sir! It’s so much the less for us that worked for it when he did nothin’!
Butler—[Overcome by hysterical rage—stammering.] Who asked you for it—eh? Who—wants the dam thing? Not me! No! You damned lunatics! You oughter all be in the asylum? [Holding the anklet out contemptuously.] Gold? Ha-ha! This junk? I just bit it to make sure. Gold? Brass, that’s what—and pieces of glass! Junk! Not worth a dam. Here! Take it! You can have it! [He flings it on the sand before them.Bartlettsnatches it up protectingly.]
Bartlett—[In a frenzy.] Jimmy! [ButButlerruns off left with a terrified cry.Jimmysprings to his feet and stands with his hand on his knife, waiting for a further order.]
Jimmy—[Eagerly.] I go catch—go stick him, Captain?
Bartlett—[Pausing—with a frown.] No. They’s time enough for that—if need be. Sit down. [Jimmysits down again with a childish air of sulking.Bartlettstares at the treasure, continuing to frown, as if Butler’s action had made him uneasy, bewildered and confused him. He mutters half to himself.] Queer! Queer! He threw it back as if ’twas a chunk of mud! He knew—and yet he said he didn’t want it. Junk, he called it—and he knows it’s gold! He said ’twas gold himself a second back. He’s queer. Why would he say junk when he knows it’s gold? D’ye think—he don’t believe?
Horne—He was mad because you knocked him down.
Bartlett—[Shaking his head grimly.] It ain’t the first time I’ve knocked him down; but he neverspoke up to me—like that—before. No, it’s somethin’ else is wrong with him—somethin’.
Horne—No share for him, you told him sir. That’s what wrong with him.
Bartlett—[Again shaking his head.] No. His eyes—It’s somethin’ he’s got in his head—somethin’ he’s hidin’! His share—maybe he thinks he’ll get his share anyway, in spite o’ us! Maybe he thinks his share wouldn’t be all he wants! Maybe he thinks we’ll die o’ hunger and thirst before we get picked up—and that he’ll live—and then—he’ll come in for the whole chestful! [Suddenly springing to his feet in a rage, convinced that he has found the truth.] Hell’s fire! That’s it, bullies! That’s his sneakin’ plan! To watch us die—and steal it from us!
Cates—[Rising to his knees and shaking his hand threateningly above his head.] Tell Jimmy to knife him, sir! Tell Jimmy—I ain’t got a knife, or I’d do it myself. [He totters weakly to his feet.]
Jimmy—[Eagerly.] You speak, I stick him, Captain. I stick boy, too.
Cates—[Weakening.] I’m weak, but I kin do for him yet. I’m weak—— [His knees sag under him. He pleads piteously.] If I’d only a drink to put some strength in me! If I’d only a sup o’ water, I’d do for him! [Turning, as if to stagger down toward the beach.] There must bewater. Let’s look again. I’ll go look—— [But the effort he makes is too much for his strength and he falls to the sand, panting with open mouth.]
Bartlett—[Summoning his strength—sternly.] Put a clapper on that jaw of yours, Cates, or I’ll do it for ye!
Cates—[Blubbering.] If we don’t find water—he’ll watch us die.
Jimmy—[Insinuatingly.] Better me knife cook fella—kill boy, too!
Bartlett—Will killin’ ’em give us drink, ye fools? [After a pause, he shakes his head as if to drive off some thought, and mutters.] No more o’ that! [Suddenly, in a tone of sharp command.] No more o’ that, I say! We’re keepin’ no right watch for ships. Go aloft on that tree, Jimmy—and damn quick! Take a look and see if ye can sight a sail. [Kanakashins quickly up the bole of the coco palm to the top and looks out on all sides of him. The others rise painfully to their feet and gaze up at him with awakened hope.]
Jimmy—[Suddenly, in a glad voice.] I see um—see sail, Captain.
Cates—[Waving his arms frenziedly.] Sail—ho!
Jimmy—Look plenty like trade schooner, Captain. She no change course she fetch plenty close by here. She make full sail, she got plenty fella wind out there, she come quick.
Horne—[ClappingCateson the back.] Headin’ straight for us, Cates, d’you hear?
Bartlett—How far d’ye reckon she be?
Jimmy—She’s five, six fella mile, Captain.
Bartlett—Come down. [The Islander slides down.Bartlettexclaims exultantly.] Didn’t I tell ye? In the nick o’ time. When she makes in close we’ll go down to the reef and yell and wave at her. They’ll see! The luck’s with us today! [His eyes fall on the treasure and he starts.] But now—what’s to do with this chest—the gold?
Horne—[Quickly.] You ain’t going to tell them on the schooner about it?
Cates—They’d claim to share with us.
Horne—More like they’d steal it and knife us in the bargain. I know the kind on them schooners.
Bartlett—[Scornfully.] D’ye think I’m cracked? No, we’ll bury it here.
Cates—[Regretfully.] Leave it behind for anyone to find?
Bartlett—We’ll bury it deep, where hell itself won’t find it—and we’ll make a map o’ this island. [He takes a sheet of paper and a stub of pencil from his pocket—pointing to the foot of the tree.] Dig a hole here—you, Horne and Jimmy—and dig it deep. [The two head down and commence to hollow out the sand with their hands.Bartlettdraws on the paper.] There’s the lagoon—and the reef—and here’s this tree—the only one on the island—’twould be hard to miss. [ToCates,who is peering over his shoulder.] And here where the tree is, d’ye see, Cates, I’ll make a cross where the gold is hid.
Horne—[Over his shoulder, without ceasing his work.] How d’ye know the lay o’ this island—to find it again?
Bartlett—By the last reckonin’ o’ the Triton’s. It’s writ on a page I tore from the log-book. And from there we headed due north in the boat, unless the compass lied—four days—a hundred and fifty miles, I reckon. [Exultantly.] Oh, all hell’d not stop me from findin’ this place again when I know the gold’s here. Let us once get home and I’ll fit out a small schooner the four of us can sail, and we’ll come back here to dig it up. It won’t be long, I swear to ye!
Horne—[Straightening up.] This deep enough, sir?
Bartlett—It looks to be.
Jimmy—[Who has straightened up and is looking off left—suddenly points excitedly.] He look, Captain! Cook fella, he look here! Boy he look, too! They look plenty too much, Captain! [All four stand staring off atButlerand the boy, whose presence on the island they have forgotten in their mad excitement.]
Cates—[In stupid dismay.] They’ll know where it’s hid, sir!
Horne—They’ll tell ’em on the schooner!
Cates—[Wildly.] We’ve got to do for ’em, Captain! Gimme your knife, Jimmy—your knife—— [He stumbles toward the Islander, who pushes him aside brusquely, looking questioningly toward the Captain.]
Bartlett—[Who has been standing motionless, as if stunned by this forgotten complication—slowly.] There they be watchin’ us, the sneakin’ dogs! Sit down, an’ they won’t see. [They all squat in the sand.] I was forgettin’ they was here. [Striking his knee with clenched fist.] We’ve got to do somethin’ damn quick! That schooner’ll be up soon where they kin sight her—and they’ll wave and yell then—and she’ll see ’em!
Horne—And good-bye to the gold for us!
Jimmy—[Eagerly.] You say fella word, Captain, me kill um quick. They no make plenty cry for schooner! They keep damn still plenty too much!
Bartlett—[Looking at the Islander with mad cunning but replying only toHorne.] Aye, it’s good-bye to the gold, Horne. That scum of a cook—he’s made a mock o’ us—sayin’ it wasn’t gold when he knew it was—he’ll tell ’em—he’ll get joy o’ tellin’ ’em!
Horne—And that scrub of a boy—he’s no better. He’ll be in with him neck and crop.
Cates—[Hoarsely.] Knife ’em—and be done with it—I say!
Bartlett—Or, if they don’t tell the schooner’s skipper it’ll only be because they’re plannin’ to come back themselves—before we kin—and dig it up. That cook—there’s somethin’ queer in his mind—somethin’ he was hidin’—pretendin’ not to believe. What d’ye think, Horne?
Horne—I think—time’s gettin’ short—and talkin’ won’t do no good. [Insinuatingly.] They’d do for us soon enough iftheywas able.
Bartlett—Aye, murder was plain in his eyes when he looked at me.
Horne—[Lowering his voice to a whisper.] Tell Jimmy—Captain Bartlett—is what I say!
Bartlett—It’s agin the law, Silas Horne!
Horne—The law don’t reach to this island.
Bartlett—[Monotonously.] It’s against the law a captain’s sworn to keep wherever he sails. They ain’t refused duty—nor mutinied.
Horne—Who’ll know they ain’t? They’re trying to steal what’s yours—that’s worse’n mutiny. [As a final persuasion.] And Jimmy’s a nigger—and under no laws. And he’s stronger’n you are. You couldn’t stop ’im.
Bartlett—Aye—I couldn’t prevent——
Jimmy—[Eagerly.] I fix um, Captain, they no tell! [Bartlettdoesn’t answer, but stares at the treasure.Hornemakes violent motions toJimmyto go. The Islander stares at his master’s face. Then, seeming to read the direct command there, hegrunts with satisfaction, and pulling his knife from it’s sheath, he goes stealthily off left.Catesraises himself on his haunches to watch the Islander’s movements.HorneandBartlettsit still in a strained immobility, their eyes on the chest.]
Cates—[In an excited whisper.] I see ’em! They’re sittin’ with their backs this way! [A slight pause.] There’s Jimmy. He’s crawlin’ on his hands behind ’em. They don’t notice—he’s right behind—almost atop o’ them. [A pause.Catesgives a fiendish grunt.] Ugh! [Butler’smuffled cry comes from the left.] Right in the middle of the back! The cook’s done! The boy’s runnin’! [There is a succession of quick screams from the boy, the padding of feet running toward them, the fall of a body, and the boy’s dying groan.]
Horne—[With satisfaction.] It’s done, sir!
Bartlett—[Slowly.] I spoke no word, remember that, Silas Horne!
Horne—[Cunningly.] Nor me neither, sir. Jimmy took it on himself. If blame there is—and who’d blame him for it?—it’s on him.
Bartlett—[Gloomily.] I spoke no word! [Jimmyreturns noiselessly from the left.]
Jimmy—[Grinning with savage pride.] I fix um fella plenty, Captain. They no tell. They no open mouth plenty too much!
Cates—[Maudlinly.] You’re a man, Jimmy—a man with guts to him—even if you’re a—— [He babbles incoherently.]
Jimmy—[As the Captain does not look at him.] I go climb fella tree, Captain? I make look for schooner?
Bartlett—[Rousing himself with an effort.] Yes—go up. [The Islander climbs the tree.]
Horne—[Getting to his feet—eagerly.] Where away, Jimmy?
Jimmy—She come, Captain, she come plenty quick.
Horne—[Looking in the directionJimmyindicates.] I kin see her tops’ls from here, sir. Look!
Bartlett—[Getting to his feet—stares out to sea.] Aye! There she be—and makin’ towards us fast. [In a flash his sombre preoccupation is gone, and he is commander once more. He puts the anklet in his hand into his coat pocket—harshly.] Come down out o’ that? They’s work to do. [Jimmyclambers down.] Did ye leave—them—lyin’ in plain sight on the open sand?
Jimmy—Yes. I no touch um, Captain.
Bartlett—Then ye’ll touch ’em now. Go, bury ’em, cover ’em up with sand. And mind ye make a good job o’ it that none’ll see. Jump now!
Jimmy—[Obediently.] I go, Captain. [He hurries off left.]
Bartlett—Down to the reef with ye, Horne! [Giving the prostrateCatesa kick.] Up out o’ that, Cates! Go with Horne, and when ye see the schooner hull up, wave to ’em, and yell like mad, d’ye hear?
Horne—Aye, aye, sir!
Bartlett—I’ll stay here and bury the gold. It’s best to be quick about it! They may turn a spyglass on us when they raise the island from deck! Off with ye! [He givesCatesanother kick.]
Cates—[Groaning.] I’m sick! [Incoherently.] Can’t—report for duty—this watch. [With a shout.] Water!
Bartlett—[Contemptuously.] Ye dog! Give him a hand, Horne.
Horne—[Putting a hand under his shoulder.] Up, man! We’re to signal the schooner. There’ll be water on board o’ her—barrels of it!
Cates—[Aroused, scrambles to his feet, violently shaking off Horne’s hand.] Water aboard o’ her! [His staring eyes catch the schooner’s sails on the horizon. He breaks into a staggering run and disappears down toward the beach, right rear, waving his arms wildly and shouting.] Ahoy! Ahoy! Water! [Hornewalks out quickly after him.] [Left alone,Bartlett,after a quick glance around, sinks on his knees beside the chest and shoves both hands into it. From the chest comes a metallic clink as he fingers the pieces in his hands gloatingly.] Ye’re safe now! There’s none to tell left livin’! He’s dead—damn him!—that lied about ye. Andye’ll rest safe here till I come back for ye! [In a dreaming tone, his eyes fixed before him in an ecstatic vision.] No more whalin’ on the dirty seas! Rest to home! Gold! I’ve been dreamin’ o’ it all my life! Aye—we’ll rest now, Sarah! Your father be a rich man, Nat and Sue! [Shaking himself—savagely.] Ye fool! What drivel be ye talkin’? Loosin’ your senses, be ye? Time ye was picked up! Lucky! [He shoves down the lid and places the chest in the hole. He pushes the sand in on top of it, whispering hoarsely.] Lay safe, d’ye hear. For I’ll be back for ye! Aye—in spite of hell I’ll dig ye up again! [The voices ofHorneandJimmycan be heard from the distance shouting as
[The Curtain Falls]