Delphi Complete Works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (Illustrated) (1038 page)

BAB. Oh, Bab, how could you!

PROCTOR.
 
I caught her in the act of eloping with an

undergraduate through this window.

BAB. Naughty!

JANE A. You wicked little wretch! Sir, I am —

PROCTOR.
 
You are about to be shut up in your bedroom for the

night. Which is her room, Jane Annie?

JANE A. You —

BAB. In the attic there.

PROCTOR.
 
Come!

PROCTOR drags JANE ANNIE upstairs, and pushes her into her room.

BAB. I hope poor Tom didn’t hurt himself, though I believe

he went away blaming me. Men are so unreasonable!

PROCTOR (coming down). Well, Jane Annie, why don’t you go to

bed?

A letter is thrown through the window.

PROCTOR.
 
A letter! and through the window!

BAB
 
(aside). Oh, it is from Jack! We are ruined!

PROCTOR.
 
It has no address. For whom can it be meant?

BAB. Oh, give it to me, sir?

PROCTOR.
 
To you, child? Never! It is my duty to open it myself.

(Opens and reads.) “Ten past nine.” Ten past nine! I

am waiting for you in the garden.” Ha! what plot is

this that I have unearthed? Who is waiting in the

garden, and for whom?

BAB
 
(aside). Oh, what shall I do? Ha! Have I not heard that

Miss Sims and he were sweethearts? (To PROCTOR.) Can

you not see?

PROCTOR.
 
No, I can’t; and if I can’t, it’s perfectly certain

that no one else can.

BAB. I know whom the letter is from.

PROCTOR.
 
From whom, child?

BAB. It is from Miss Sims.

PROCTOR.
 
From Dinah?

BAB. Precisely.

PROCTOR.
 
And for whom is she waiting?

BAB. Why, for you, of course. Oh, sir, have pity upon this

poor lady’s heart.

PROCTOR.
 
Ha! “Ten past nine!”
 
She means me! Of course it is

addressed to me. “Ten past nine, I am waiting for you

in the garden.” Excuse me, child! (Exit.)

BAB. Oh, Jack is outside, and I do trust they will not meet.

It was my only chance. Now I must put on my hat and

coat and slip out to join him.

Exit into bedroom. JANE ANNIE comes downstairs.

JANE A. That little wretch Bab will find that ia m not so

easily foiled. Let me see, I need darkness, because I

am such a good girl. (Turns down the lights.) Oh! who

is this?

Enter JACK in a cloak.

JACK.
 
Bab, come! (Sees JANE ANNIE and runs forward.)

JANE A. I am not Bab!

JACK.
 
Oh, Lord! the wrong one. (Takes to his heels, dropping

the cloak in his haste.)

JANE A. What a superior young man! His cloak! (Puts it on.) In

this light she might mistake me for him! (Swaggers

about in military fashion.) Oh, I will lay such a

beautiful trap for her! (Retires to back of stage, and

conceals herself by the curtain.)

Enter BAB, dressed for travelling, and with several packages.

BAB. Farewell, dear old school — the nicest school in the

world to get away from! If I were only sure that I am

not making a mistake! They say that there was a girl

who eloped from here once, and that she was unhappy,

and that her spirit still haunts these rooms. Tom, Tom!

shall I take this final step which is to divide us? Oh!

what is that?

VOICES IN THE AIR.

Little maiden, pause and ponder,

Life is cruel, life is dreary.

Little feet, why should you wander

On to paths so rough and weary?

Ere you snap the final link,

Little maiden, pause and think!

BAB. Oh, I am so frightened. What shall I do?

JANE ANNIE comes forward, enveloped in JACK’s cloak.

JANE A. Come!

BAB. Jack, I cannot!

JANE A. Quick!

BAB. Oh, Jack, be good to me! Do be careful of this packet.

It is awfully, awfully important. It is my curling

tongs. (Gives packet.) The carriage is awaiting us, of

course. That contains your letters Jack, and these are

some little things — and take this bag. And now,

darling, carry me down, for I am going to faint!

She falls into JANE ANNIE’s arms, who lets the things fall,

seizes her and screams. Ringing of bells, and general alarm.

PRESS STUDENTS come rushing upstairs.
 
MISS SIMS enters, all

stare at JANE ANNIE holding BAB, who seems to have fainted from

fright.

FINALE.

PRESS STUDENTS. Madam, do no think us rude in

On your privacy intrudin’;

We are Students Journalistic,

Keen on copy, plain or mystic,

Commonplace or transcendental,

Psychic, physical, or mental,

News we’ll have, and through you, madam,

For we’ll interview you, madam.

That’s so flat, nought could be flatter,

Tell us quickly, what’s the matter?

What’s the matter? What’s the matter?

GIRLS run out of their rooms in various stages of deshabille.

GIRLS.
 
Madam, when we heard this screaming,

Scarcely sure if we were dreaming,

Curiosity controlled us,

And we came as you behold us,

Trim or ruffled, tossed or dapper,

Clad in dressing gown or wrapper,

We are kneeling to you, madam,

News to get, and through you, madam.

Think not this is idle chatter,

But inform us what’s the matter?

What’s the matter? What’s the matter?

ENSEMBLE.

PRESS STUDENTS.
 
GIRLS.

News we’ll have, and
  
We are kneeling to you,

through you, madam, etc.
 
madam, etc.

MISS SIMS.
  
Jane Annie, what is this?

Bab, what were you doing in her arms?

BAB. Miss Sims, forgive me! I thought she was a gentleman.

MISS SIMS.
 
Oh, infamous! To your rooms, all, this instant!

Exeunt MISS SIMS, BAB, JANE ANNIE, and GIRLS.

PRESS STUDENTS (taking notes eagerly).

School aristocratic,

The scene most dramatic,

Plot unsystematic,

And very erratic,

Jane Annie ecstatic,

Her victory emphatic,

She won it by stealing

Down from the attic.

Enter PROCTOR furiously.

PRESS STUDENTS. We’re glad to interview you,

To get a column through you,

And note what you may say.

See now how we will do him,

While we seem to interview him,

In our frank, new-fashioned way.

Are Proctors men of learning?

Do you spend more than you’re earning?

And how much do you owe?

Of women do you think much?

On occasion do you drink much?

PROCTOR.
 
Emphatically, no!

PRESS STUDENTS (writing). Proctors have no acumen,

And no respect for women.

PROCTOR.
   
Yes, yes! I meant to say!

PRESS STUDENTS (writing). In debt and boasts about it.

Love’s grog — can’t do without it.

Must have it night and day.

PROCTOR.
 
My words you’re misconstruing,

That is not interviewing.

PRESS STUDENTS.
  
Yes, this is interviewing,

In the frank, new-fashioned way.

PROCTOR.
 
If you’ll suppress this fable,

I’ll tell you, if I’m able,

A recent incident.

(Aside).
 
Diverting their attention,

I’ll draw from my invention

Some singular event.