Mollendo

“ It is a long and devious way to the edge of the plateau, where a sudden change is experienced. The green if any is left behind, a sandy desert is before, though the dampness, in the winter, continues. The gradual change from the gray mist to the bright desert sunshine if observed is most interesting, and then to look backward upon the gray cloud from which you have emerged. Here, perhaps, you have your first view of an absolute desert; no wells are useful, and for the stations along the track, even for Mollendo itself, water is piped down from near Arequipa, 100 miles distant. ”

“ One thing is certain: Romaña must go. I can't have a Mollendist about the place. If it became known, the Prefect would make it another reason for worrying me, or worse."
"Won't you write to the British consul at Lima?"
"I'm afraid that would be useless. He's too far away to be able to do anything. We're in a desperately awkward position, Rose. The Prefect will have his knife in me, and young Tim has certainly offended the Mollendists by releasing the gobernador. Whatever they meant to do with him, they will be furious at being baulked by a youngster. ”

“ Everard. (miserably) Mr. Mollentrave!
Mollen. Are there many other young ladies—whom you have to say good-bye to, Everard?
Everard. Be merciful, sir! Oh, Mr. Mollentrave. I love Margaret! (going to her)
Margaret. (reproachfully) Everard!
Everard. I do, I do! And she loves me! Oh, Mr. Mollentrave, help us!
(Both kneel C. holding hands)
Margaret. Yes, yes, help us!
Mollen. What a position for a father! When I think of my Rosamund—the blow to her! And Balsted—poor, doting Balsted!
Margaret. (crawling towards Mollentrave, humbly) We've been very wicked, we know! But we'll do what you tell us! ”

“ His father had expected that any Mollendist success would immediately result in a large accession of recruits, and he decided to accept the men's offer. When, however, later in the day, after his proclamation had been read in the plaza, more men came in, civilians of San Rosario as well as troopers of the Prefect's, he felt somewhat embarrassed. To admit more than a hundred to the barracks seemed to him rather hazardous. Such volatile soldiers of fortune might change sides again at any moment, and turn their arms against him. ”

“ Martin. Yes, sir. (he goes)
Mollen. Now see—when Rosamund comes, I shall retire into the back room there, and write a [Pg 40] letter. I shall give you three minutes. Then you take your leave.
Contareen. Quite so. Three minutes will do!
Mollen. And remember—be sprightly! Not a trace of acidity! Persiflage is good—in moderation—Bring in Lady Pentruddock's sister—but don't drag her in! You understand?
Contareen. Perfectly, perfectly. Oh yes, I see. Gad, Mollentrave, I've always done what you told me. But those Nancies and Janes, you know—
Mollen. Tut, tut, women like a dash of colour! ”

“ Mollen. Copy for me, my dear fellow—They'll be under the microscope, but they won't know. (Lady C. comes down L. C.) And I'll give the boy some wrinkles. You'll come?
Sir J. (turn L.) Does Lady Claude join in the invitation?
Lady C. Most cordially.
Mollen. So that's all settled. (He gets up, goes to the back, and proceeds to wrestle with his overcoat)
Sir J. (C. to Lady Claude) Though I should ask you to explain a few points in your father's work?
(Mollen., seized by a sudden inspiration, takes book, sits on settee, and turns down pages Sir J. will have to consult.) ”

“ Molly fell at his feet, and embraced his knees, while her soft blue eyes gazed pleadingly into his face.
"You would drive me from you?" she asked, with trembling tones; "you yourself would rob me of my last hope, my only support? No, father; you cannot mean it so, you cannot be in earnest! There is no happiness which I would not willingly resign, unless it were to be shared with you! All the suffering and agony which God may choose to inflict upon us will I bear without a murmur, with a firm and unblenching spirit, so long as He tears me not from your side! Father, drive me not from you!" ”

“ Everard has fallen—in love—with you?
Lady C. Yes! Imagine it! A catastrophe!
Sir J. (dully, down R. C. and sitting) Very awkward. Very.
Lady C. (C.) How could one conceive it! I've been sympathetic—that's all! Talked about Margaret! Oh, I assure you, I've done nothing but talk about Margaret!
Sir J. There's something odd about boys and girls nowadays. But, of course, it's all Mollentrave— (he clenches his fist)
Lady C. What must I do? Tell me—advise me!
Sir J. You haven't accepted him?
Lady C. (indignantly) Sir Joseph!
Sir J. You see, things are just a trifle topsy-turvy. ”

“ Mildred learned all about her life there; about the birds outside and the bird in the cage. Mildred could see it from the window when she climbed upon the bed. She thought of the roses in her garden and of the birds that sang around her home, flying about among the trees, and to think that Molly had never seen them! Her heart ached. It dawned upon her that maybe she could arrange to have her see it. She asked what she would rather have than anything in the world.
"In the whole world?" asked Molly. ”

“ Greater voices they had heard, but none more natural—and that was Moldini.
He came to her dressing-room at the intermission. He stretched out his arms, but emotion overcame him, and he dropped to a chair and sobbed and cried and laughed. She came and put her arms round him and kissed him. She was almost calm. The GREAT fear had seized her—Can I keep what I have won?
"I am a fool," cried Moldini. "I will agitate you."
"Don't be afraid of that," said she. "I am nervous, yes, horribly nervous. But you have taught me so that I could sing, no matter what was happening." It was true. ”

“ But Molly did not move a muscle. Straight away the bird flew, at first up and then on over the black houses and the smoke toward the blue sky over Mildred's home, his wings beating the fresh spring air, on, on, growing smaller to the sight, flying straight for the open country—a mere speck—till at last he faded from sight. Molly lay motionless, with her gaze still on the fair blue sky where he had disappeared, as if she could still see him. ”

“ Molly grew pale, stopped crying. Amilcare began to feel himself—come, come, she was reasonable after all. He condescended to explain the fine uses of Italian statecraft, the wife's part, the husband's part. He was most explicit; Molly grew white, ended by fainting. Amilcare carried her to bed; she refused to sleep with him. He raged; she cared nothing. She was wild with terror, shame, discovery of her lover's worth, and of her love's. He had to beg her pardon on his knees, made an enemy of Bentivoglio, a fool of himself, and left next morning in a tearing passion. ”

“ Now at Möllen lay he grievously sick, and not one of his noble friends, unto the which he had caused such great laughter, cared to come nigh unto him; yet came his mother, who with fear and trembling had, in her solitude and desolate home, marked the courses of our noble master; and she besought him, saying: “Soon wilt thou depart unto the land of darkness and shadow, the which men traverse with shuddering, quaking with fear for the evil they have done, for of a truth is no man good, no man worthy of grace! ”

“ I love Molly far too well to desert her, and some day, when she finds out all I have done for her sake, perhaps she will appreciate me better than she has up to the present. I cannot tell her myself, but it may be that you will think fit to let her know. I mean to follow Lady Brighthelmston to Naples, or even farther if it be necessary, for writing the information I have to give might do more harm than good to everyone concerned. ”

“ Something in Molly's walk by his side just now had made him see again the old woman with her quick, alert movements in the garden at Florence; after all they were cut from the same piece, the old wicked woman and the slight, dark girl with the curious eyes. Molly must not be trusted; she must be suspected all the more because of her attractions in the moments of dangerous gentleness. And with a certain simplicity Edmund looked again at the moon above him, all the more glorious because secret and dark things were moving stealthily under the trees in the lower world. ”

“ Joseph!!") Oh, Mollentrave, if it were not for your daughter, how I'd wish that I never had met you!
(He goes—miserably—R. 3 E.)
Mollen. (coming down R. shaking his head) And that man, Rosamund, is one of our most eminent lawyers!
Lady C. (down R. C.) Papa, I must tell you—it's strange—though Everard and I talk of nothing but Margaret every day, from two till seven—
Mollen. Well?
Lady C. (pathetically) Think of it! From two till seven—every day!
[Pg 67]
Mollen. Science must have its martyrs! Tell yourself that you're watching human love wriggle—under the microscope! ”

“ Mollen. My poor Rosamund is a widow. (up L. C. across C. and down R. C.) Also she has had the advantage of correcting my proof-sheets. She has read that passion wins maids, and perseverance widows. She follows the rule. Do the same!
Contareen. I thought—
Mollen. Every siege must be conducted on scientific principles. You should now be back in your trenches. Digging, sir—digging!
Contareen. (eagerly) Look here, Lady Pentruddock has asked me down to her place in Shropshire.
Mollen. Well?
Contareen. Her sister will be there—Muriel, I mean, not Gladys. Muriel has charm. ”

“ Many years ago (he looks at Lady Claude who drops her eyes) I loved a lady, who, very wisely, preferred another. (Mollentrave points waggishly to the book) Ah, Mr. Mollentrave, had I then been able to consult your work!
Mollen. I was labouring at it for twenty years before I gave it to the world.
Sir J. My misfortune to have been born too [Pg 17] soon! Well, I settled down to single blessedness, and worked hard. My existence was tranquil. An elderly lady, widow of a man I had known, kept house for me, and left me undisturbed. My life was all work, with an occasional game at bridge. ”

“ Throw himself away on—Lady Claude!
Margaret. (C.) (offended) You think it's impossible? But I tell you I've seen—
Sir J. My child, we've talked nonsense enough for one morning. Let's go. (takes her hand and is about to lead her away R. Mollentrave comes in breezily up L. C.) Ah, there's Mollentrave. I must have a word with him. Run on to the house—I'll follow. (giving her the basket)
Margaret. (fondly R.) Come soon, dear one—come soon. When my eyes do not rest on you they grow tired with waiting!
Sir J. (R. C.) Please go, there's a good girl! ”

“ Poor Lady Molinda could not but be hurt by the prince’s preference for death over marriage to her, little as she liked him.
“Is life, then, so worthless? and is Molinda so terrible a person that you prefer those arms,” and she pointed to the gibbet, “to these?”—here she held out her own, which were very white, round and pretty; for Molinda was a good-hearted girl, she could not bear to see Prigio put to death; and then, perhaps, she reflected that there are worse positions than the queenship of Pantouflia. For Alphonso was gone—crying would not bring him back. ”

“ Molly excelled herself, was the wonder of the whole city. How she curtsied to their lordships—what a figure she had for that grace—how tall, how supple, and how slim! When she gave her rosy cheek to each in turn, there was a kind of caught sob audible in the crowd. The simplicity of the act brought tears to tender eyes: men laughed or looked haggard, according as the trouble took them; women, more at home with tears, clung to each other as they cried. ”

“ In the doorway of the hut, looking towards him through the dark, stood Moll Gregory. Lamplight from inside passed her and pierced the night with a long beam. She held an empty basin in her hands. The dark was clear to him who had ridden half-a-dozen miles through it; but she looked before her in a puzzled way.
"Is that you, Mr. Power?"
"Yes, Molly."
He believed he shook when he spoke to her. She was a draught of water, chilled by snows from high peaks, offered into the hands of a dying man. How she impassioned the night with her loveliness. ”

“ I am disappointed that Lady Claude's photograph does not figure as frontispiece.
Mollen. Ha, ha, very good! (away R. and returning) But—in all seriousness (takes book) , Balsted—it is a guide, a hand-book, a Baedeker! It conducts you personally to the most hidden recesses of the feminine heart, opens every door, strips every cupboard! (R. C.) No marriage license should be issued to the man who cannot pass his examination in Mollentrave! ”

“ My dear friend, you don't really imagine that she loves you? Whatever's real in her loves Everard—or any other good-looking young fellow of his age whom she chances to meet. What she admires in you is your talent, your position, your power. Very well, take them off!
Sir J. (blankly) How can I?
Mollen. I've told you—be senile. Fidgety, crotchety—sensitive to draughts—dyspeptic—adore your food. ”

“ At our age, you see, a man's in a hurry—eh, Balsted? Well, you're all coming with us to Swanage to-morrow—
Marg. (surprised) Swanage?
Mollen. Yes—we've arranged with Sir Joseph. He didn't tell you? Very remiss, of course—very remiss. He's a trifle dictatorial, I'm afraid—but you mustn't mind that—you mustn't mind that!
Sir J. (trying in vain to get hold of Mollentrave) Mollentrave, I want—
(Sir J. goes up R. to L. of Lady C., who rises)
Mollen. (to Margaret) When you marry a distinguished—and elderly man, my dear, you must of course put up with a few little draw [Pg 55] backs. ”