THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW.

"KNOWING Good and Evil."

SCENE. The GADSBYS' bungalow in the Plains, in June. Punkah-coolies asleep in veranda where CAPT. GADSBY 15 walking up and down. DOCTOR's trap in porch. JUNIOR CHAPLAIN fluctuating generally and uneasily through the house. Time, 3.40 A. M. Heat 94° in veranda.

DOCTOR. (Coming into veranda and touching G. on the shoulder.) You had better go in and see her now.

CAPT. G.-(The color of good cigar-ash.) Eh, wha-at? Oh, yes, of course. What did you say?

DOCTOR.-(Syllable by syllable.) Go-in-to-the—room -and-see-her. She wants to speak to you. (Aside, testily.) I shall have him on my hands next.

JUNIOR CHAPLAIN.-(In half lighted dining-room.) Isn't there any?

DOCTOR.-(savagely.) Hsh, you little fool!

JUNIOR CHAPLAIN.-Let me do my work. Gadsby, stop a minute (Edges after G.)

DOCTOR. Wait till she sends for you at least at least. Man alive, he'll kill you if you go in there! What are you bothering him for?

JUNIOR CHAPLAIN.-(Coming into veranda.) I've given him a stiff brandy-peg. He wants it. You've forgotten him for the last ten hours and-forgotten yourself too.

G. enters bedroom, which is lit by one night-lamp. Ayah on the floor pretending to be asleep.

VOICE.-(From the bed.) All down the street—such bonfires! Ayah, go and put them out! (Appealingly.) How can I sleep with an installation of the C. I. E. in my room? No-not C. I. E. Something else. What was it?

CAPT. G.-(Trying to control his voice.) Minnie, I'm here. (Bending over bed.) Don't you know me, Minnie? It's me --it's Phil-it's your husband.

VOICE.--(Mechanically.) It's me-it's Phil--it's your hus

AYAH.-(With an inspiration.) Memsahib understanding

all I saying.

Memsahib!

CAPT. G.--Make her understand me then-quick! AYAH.--(Hand on MRS. G.'s forehead.) Captain Sahib aya.

VOICE.-Salam do. (Fretfully.) I know I'm not fit to be

seen.

AYAH.-(Aside to G.) Say "marneen" same as at break

fast.

CAPT. G.-Good morning, little woman. How are we today?

VOICE. That's Phil. you fool, I can't see you.

Poor old Phil. (Viciously.) Phil,

Come nearer.

CAPT. G.--Minnie ! Minnie! It's me--You know me? VOICE.-(Mockingly.) Of course I do. Who does not know the man who was so cruel to his wife--almost the only one he ever had?

CAPT. G. Yes, dear. Yes of course, of course. But won't you speak to him? He wants to speak to you so much. VOICE.--They'd never let him in. The Doctor would give darwaza bnnd even if he were in the house. He'll never

come.

(Despairingly.) Oh, Judas!

CAPT. G.--(Putting out his arms.)

Judas! Judas!

They have let him in,

and he always was in the house. Oh, my love--don't you know me?

VOICE. (In a half chant.) "And it came to pass at the eleventh hour that this poor soul repented." It knocked at the gates, but they were shut-tight as a plaster—a great, burning plaster. They had pasted our marriage certificate all across the door, and it was made of red-hot iron-people really ought to be more careful, you know.

CAPT. G. What am I to do? (Takes her in his arms.) Minnie! speak to me--to Phil.

VOICE. What shall I say? Oh, tell me what to say before it's too late! They are all going away and I can't say anything.

CAPT. G.-Say you know me! Only say you know me!

DOCTOR. (Who has entered quietly.) For pity's sake don't take it too much to heart, Gadsby. It's this way sometimes. They won't recognize. They say all sorts of queer things don't you see?

CAPT. G.-All right! All right! Go away now; she'll recognize me; you're bothering her. She must-mustn't she, Doc?

DOCTOR.-She will before . . . Have I your leave to tryCAPT. G.-Anything you please, so long as she'll know me. It's only a question of-hours, isn't it?

DOCTOR.

(Professionally.) While there's life there's hope, y'know. But don't build on it.

CAPT. G.—I don't. Pull her together if it's possible. (Aside.) What have I done to deserve this?

DOCTOR. (Bending over bed.) Now, Mrs. Gadsby! We shall be all right to-morrow. You must take it, or I sha'n't

VOICE.-Medicines! Always more medicines! Can't you

leave me alone?

CAPT. G.-Oh, leave her in peace, Doc!

DOCTOR. (Stepping back,-aside.) May I be forgiven if

I've done wrong. (Aloud.) In a few minutes she ought to be sensible; but I daren't tell you to look for anything. It's only

CAPT. G.-What? Go on, man.

DOCTOR.-(In a whisper.) Forcing the last rally.

CAPT. G.-Then leave us alone.

DOCTOR. Don't mind what she says at first, if you can. They... they . . . they turn against those they love most sometimes in this . . It's hard, but . . .

...

CAPT. G.-Am I her husband or are you? Leave us alone for whatever time we have together.

VOICE. (Confidentially.) And we were engaged quite suddenly, Emma. I assure you that I never thought of it for a moment; hut O my little Me!-I don't know what I should have done if he hadn't proposed.

CAPT. G. She thinks of that Deercourt girl before she thinks of me. (Aloud.) Minnie!

VOICE. Not from the shops, Mummy dear. You can get the real leaves from Kaintu, and (laughing weakly) never Dead white silk is only fit for It's as bad as a winding-sheet.

mind about the blossoms . . .
widows, and I won't wear it.
(A long pause.)

CAPT. G.-I never asked a favor yet.

If there is anybody

to liston to me, let her know me-even if I die too!

VOICE. (Very faintly.) Pip, Pip dear.

CAPT. G.-I'm here, darling.

VOICE. What has happened? They've been bothering me. so with medicines and things, and they wouldn't let you come and see me. I was never ill before. Am I ill now?

CAPT. G.-You-you aren't quite well.

VOICE. HOW funny! Have I been ill long?

CAPT. G.-Some days; but you'll be all right in a little time.

VOICE.

Do you think so, Pip? I don't feel well and . Oh! What have they done to my hair?

CAPT. G.-I d-d-don't know.

VOICE. They've cut it off.

What a shame!

CAPT. G.-It must have been to make your head cooler.
VOICE.'Just like a boy's wig. Don't I look horrid ?

CAPT. G.-Never looked prettier in your life, dear. (Aside.) How am I to ask her to say good-by?

VOICE. I don't feel pretty. I feel very ill. My heart won't work. It's nearly dead inside me, and there's a funny feeling in my eyes. Everything seems the same distance-you and the almirah and the table-inside my eyes or miles away. What does it mean, Pip?

CAPT. G. You're a little feverish, Sweetheart-very feverish. (Breaking down.) My love! my love! How can I let you go? VOICE. I thought so. Why didn't you tell me that at first? CAPT. G.--What?

CAPT. G.--But you aren't! You sha'n't.

AYAH.-(Stepping into veranda after a glance at the bed.) Punkah choa do!

VOICE. It's hard, Pip. So very, very hard after one year --just one year. (Wailing.) And I'm only twenty. Most girls aren't even married at twenty. Can't they do anything to help me? I don't want to die.

CAPT. G.--Hush, dear. You won't.

VOICE.--What's the use of talking? Help me! You've never failed me yet. Oh, Phil, help me to keep alive. (Feverishly.) I don't believe you wish me to live. You weren't a bit sorry when that horrid Baby thing died. I wish I'd killed Baby!

CAPT. G.-(Drawing his hand across his forehead.) It's more than a man's meant to bear--it's not right. (Aloud.) Minnie, love, I'd die for you if it would help.

VOICE. No more death. There's enough already. Pip,

don't you die too.

CAPT. G.--I wish I dared.

VOICE. It says:-"Till Death do us part." Nothing after