text:
Mrs. Hauksbee Sits Out

PERSONS CHIEFLY INTERESTED

His Excellency the Viceroy and Governor-General of India. Charles Hilton Hawley (lieutenant at large). Lieutenant-Colonel J. Scriffshaw (not so much at large). Major Decker (a persuasive Irishman). Peroo (an Aryan butler). Mrs. Hauksbee (a lady with a will of her own). Mrs. Scriffshaw (a lady who believes she has a will of her own). May Holt (niece of the above). Assunta (an Aryan lady's-maid). Aides-de-Camp, Dancers, Horses, and Devils as Required.

SCENE—The imperial city of Simla, on a pine-clad mountain seven thousand feet above the level of the sea. Gray roofs of houses peering through green; white clouds going to bed in the valley below, purple clouds of sunset sitting on the peaks above. Smell of wood-smoke and pine-cones. A curtained verandah-room in Mrs. Hauksbee's house, overlooking Simla, shows Mrs. Hauksbee, in black cachemire tea-gown opening over cream front, seated in a red-cushioned chair, her foot on a Khokand rug, Russian china tea things on red lacquered table beneath red-shaded lamps. On a cushion at her feet, Miss Holt — gray riding-habit, soft gray felt terai hat, blue and gold puggree, buff gauntlets in lap, and glimpse of spurred riding-boot. They have been talking as the twilight gathers. Mrs. Hauksbee crosses over to the piano in a natural pause of the conversation and begins to play.

May. (Without changing her position.) Yes. That's nice. Play something.

Mrs. H.What?

May. Oh! Anything. Only I don't want to hear about sighing over tombs, and saying Nevermore.

Mrs. H. Have you ever known me do that? May, you're in one of your little tempers this afternoon.

May. So would a Saint be. I've told you why. Horrid old thing! — isn't she?

Mrs. H. (Without prelude) — Fair Eve knelt close to the guarded gate in the hush of an Eastern spring, She saw the flash of the Angel's sword, the gleam of the Angel's wing—

May. (Impetuously.) And now you're laughing at me!

Mrs. H. (Shaking her head, continues the song for a verse; then crescendo) —

And because she was so beautiful, and because she could not see How fair were the pure white cyclamens crushed dying at her knee. (That's the society of your aunt, my dear.)

He plucked a Rose from the Eden Tree where the four great rivers meet.

May. Yes. I know you're laughing at me. Now somebody's going to die, of course. They always do.

Mrs. H. No. Wait and see what is going to happen. (The puckers pass out of May's face as she listens) — And though for many a Cycle past that Rose in the dust hath lain With her who bore it upon her breast when she passed from grief to pain, (Retard)— There was never a daughter of Eve but once, ere the tale of years be done, Shall know the scent of the Eden Rose, but once beneath the sun! Though the years may bring her joy or pain, fame, sorrow, or sacrifice, The hour that brought her the scent of the Rose she lived it in Paradise!

(Concludes with arpeggio chords.)

May. (Shuddering.) Ah! don't. How good that is! What is it?

Mrs. H. Something called 'The Eden Rose'. An old song to a new setting.

May. Play it again!

Mrs. H. (I thought it would tell.) No, dear. (Returning to her place by the tea-things.) And so that amiable aunt of yours won't let you go to the dance?

May. She says dancing's wicked and sinful ; and it's only a Volunteer ball, after all.

Mrs. H. Then why are you so anxious to go?

May. Because she says I mustn't! Isn't that sufficient reason? And because —

Mrs. H. Ah, it's that 'because' I want to hear about, dear.

May. Because I choose. Mrs. Hauksbee — dear Mrs. Hauksbee — you will help me, won't you ?

Mrs. H. (Slowly.) Ye - es. Because I choose. Well?

May. In the first place, you'll take me under your wing, won't you? And, in the second, you'll keep me there, won't you ?

Mrs. H. That will depend a great deal on the Hawley Boy's pleasure, won't it?

May. (Flushing.) Char — Mr. Hawley has nothing whatever to do with it.

Mrs. H. Of course not. But what will your aunt say?

May. She will be angry with me, but not with you. She is pious — oh! so pious! — and she would give anything to be put on that lady's committee for — what is it? — giving pretty dresses to half-caste girls. Lady Bieldar is the secretary, and she won't speak to Aunt on the Mall. You're Lady Bieldar's friend. Aunt daren't quarrel with you, and, besides, if I come here after dinner tonight, how are you to know that everything isn't correct?

Mrs. H. On your own pretty head be the talking to! I'm willing to chaperon to an unlimited extent.

May. Bless you! and I'll love you always for it!

Mrs. H. There, again, the Hawley Boy might have something to say. You've been a well-conducted little maiden so far, May. Whence this sudden passion for Volunteer balls? (Turning down lamp and lowering voice as she takes the girl's hand.) Won't you tell me? I'm not very young, but I'm not a grim griffin, and I think I'd understand, dear.

May. (After a pause, and swiftly.) His leave is nearly ended. He goes down to the plains to his regiment the day after tomorrow, and —

Mrs. H. Has he said anything?

May. I don't know. I don't think so. Don't laugh at me, please! But I believe me it would nearly break my heart if he didn't.

Mrs. H. (Smiling to herself.) Poor child! And how long has this been going on?

May. Ever so long ! Since the beginning of the world — or the begin- ning of the season. I couldn't help it. I didn't want to help it. And last time we met I was just as rude as I could be — and — and he thought I meant it.

Mrs. H. How strange! Seeing that he is a man too (half aloud) — and probably with experiences of his own!

May. (Dropping Mrs. H.'s hand.) I don't believe that, and — I won't. He couldn't!

Mrs. H. No, dear. Of course he hasn't had experiences. Why should he? I was only teasing! But when do I pick you up tonight, and how?

May. Aunt's dining out somewhere — with goody-goody people. I dine alone with Uncle John — and he sleeps after dinner. I shall dress then. I simply daren't order my 'rickshaw. The trampling of four coolies in the verandah would wake the dead. I shall have Dandy brought round quietly, and slip away.

Mrs. H. But won't riding crumple your frock horribly?

May. (Rising.) Not in the least, if you know how. I've ridden ten miles to a dance, and come in as fresh as though I had just left my brougham. A plain head hunting-saddle — swing up carefully — throw a waterproof over the skirt and an old shawl over the body, and there you are! Nobody notices in the dark, and Dandy knows when he feels a high heel that he must behave.

Mrs. H. And what are you wearing?

May. My very, very bestest — slate body, smoke-coloured tulle skirt, and the loveliest steel-worked little shoes that ever were. Mother sent them. She doesn't know Aunt's views. That, and awfully pretty yellow roses — teeny-weeny ones. And you'll wait for me here, won't you — you Angel! — at half-past nine? (Shortens habit and whirls Mrs. H. down the verandah. Winds up with a kiss.) There!

Mrs. H. (Holding her at arm's length and looking into her eyes.) And the next one will be given to—

May. (Blushing furiously.) Uncle John — when I get home.

Mrs. H. Hypocrite! Go along, and be happy! (As May mounts her horse in the garden.) At half-past nine, then? And can you curl your own wig? But I shall be here to put the last touches to you.

Mrs. H. (In the verandah alone, as the stars come out.) Poor child! Dear child! And Charley Hawley too! God gie us a guid conceit of oorselves! But I think they are made for each other! I wonder whether that Eurasian dress - reform committee is susceptible of improvements. I wonder whether — O youth, youth!

Enter Peroo, the butler, with a note on a tray.

Mrs. H. (Reading.) 'Help! Help! Help! The decorations are vile — the Volunteers are fighting over them. The roses are just beginning to come in. Mrs. Mallowe has a headache. I am on a step- ladder and the verge of tears! Come and restore order, if you have any regard for me! Bring things and dress; and dine with us. — Constance'. How vexatious! But I must go, I suppose. I hate dressing in other people's rooms — and Lady Bieldar takes all the chairs. But I'll tell Assunta to wait for May. (Passes into house, gives orders, and departs. The clock-hands in the dining-room mark half-past seven.)

Enter Assunta, the lady's-maid, to Peroo, squatting on the hearth-run.

Assunta. Peroo, there is an order that I am to remain on hand till the arrival of a young lady. (Squats at his side.)

Peroo. Hah!

Assunta. I do not desire to wait so long. I wish to go to my house.

Peroo. Hah!

Assunta. My house is in the bazar. There is an urgency that I should go there.

Peroo. To meet a lover?

Assunta. No — black beast! To tend my children, who be honest born. Canst thou say that of thine?

Peroo. (Without emotion.) That is a lie, and thou art a woman of notoriously immoral carriage.

Assunta. For this, my husband, who is a man, shall break thy lizard's back with a bamboo.

Peroo. For that, I, who am much honoured and trusted in this house, can, by a single word, secure his dismissal, and, owing to my influence among the servants of this town, can raise the bad name against ye both. Then ye will starve for lack of employ.

Assunta. (Fawning.) That is true. Thy honour is as great as thy influence, and thou art an esteemed man. Moreover, thou art beautiful; especially as to thy moustachios.

Peroo. So other women, and of higher caste than thou, sweeper's wife, have told me.

Assunta. The moustachios of a fighting-man — of a very swashbuckler! Ahi! Peroo, how many hearts hast thou broken with thy fine face and those so huge moustachios?

Peroo. (Twirling moustache.) One or two — two or three. It is a matter of common talk in the bazars. I speak not of the matter myself. (Hands her betel-nut and lime wrapped in the leaf. They chew in silence.)

Assunta. Peroo!

Peroo. Hah!

Assunta. I greatly desire to go away, and not to wait.

Peroo. Go, then!

Assunta. But what wilt thou say to the mistress?

Peroo. That thou hast gone.

Assunta. Nay, but thou must say that one came crying with news that my littlest babe was smitten with fever, and that I fled weeping. Else it were not wise to go.

Peroo. Be it so! But I shall need a little tobacco to solace me while I wait for the return of the mistress alone.

Assunta. It shall come; and it shall be of the best. (A snake is a snake, and a bearer is a thieving ape till he dies!) I go. It was the fever of the child — the littlest babe of all — remember. (And now, if my lover finds I am late, he will beat me, judging that I have been unfaithful.) (Exit.)

(At half-past nine enter tumultuously May, a heavy shawl over her shoulders, a skirt of smoke-coloured tulle showing beneath.)

May. Mrs. Hauksbee! Oh! She isn't here. And I dared not get Aunt's ayah to help. She would have told Uncle John — and I can't lace it myself. (Peroo hands note. May reads.) 'So sorry. Dragged off to put the last touches to the draperies. Assunta will look after you'. Sorry! You may well be sorry, wicked woman! Draperies, indeed! You never thought of mine, and — all up the back, too. (To Peroo) Where's Assunta?

Peroo. (Bowing to the earth.) By your honoured favour, there came a man but a short time ago crying that the ayah's baby was smitten with fever, and she fled, weeping, to tend it. Her house is a mile hence. Is there any order?

May. How desperately annoying! (Looking into fire, her eyes soften- ing.) Her baby! )With a little shiver, passing right hand before eyes.) Poor woman! (A pause.)

But what am I to do? I can't even creep into the cloak-room as I am, and trust to someone to put me to rights; and the shawl's a horrid old plaid! Who invented dresses to lace up the back? It must have been a man! I'd like to put him into one! What am I to do? Perhaps the Colley-Haughton girls haven't left yet. They're sure to be dining at home. I might run up to their rooms and wait till they came. Eva wouldn't tell, I know.

(Remounts Dandy, and rides up the hill to house immediately above,, enters glazed hall cautiously, and calls up staircase in an agonised whisper, huddling her shawl about her.) Jenny! Eva! Eva! Jenny! They're out too, and, of course, their ayah's gone!

Sir Henry Colley-Haughton. (Opening door of dining-room, where he has been finishing an after-dinner cigar, and stepping into hall.) I thought I heard a — Miss Holt! I didn't know you were going with my girls. They've just left.

May. (Confusedly.) I wasn't. I didn't — that is, it was partly my fault. (With desperate earnestness.) Is Lady Haughton in?

Sir Henry. She's with the girls. Is there anything that I can do? I'm going to the dance in a minute. Perhaps I might ride with you!

May. Not for worlds! Not for anything! It was a mistake. I hope the girls are quite well.

Sir Henry. (With bland wonder.) Perfectly, thanks. (Moves through hall towards horse.)

May. No; Please don't hold my stirrup! I can manage perfectly, thanks!

(Canters out of the garden to side road shadowed by pines. Sees beneath her the lights of Simla town in orderly constellations, and on a bare ridge the illuminated bulk of the Simla Town-hall, shining like a cut-paper transparency. The main road is firefly-lighted with the moving 'rickshaw lamps all climbing towards the Town-hall. The wind brings up a few bars of a waltz. A monkey in the darkness of the wood wakes and croons dolefully).

And now, where in the world am I to go? May, you bad girl ! This all comes of disobeying aunts and wearing dresses that lace up the back, and — trusting Mrs. Hauksbee. Everybody is going. I must wait a little till that crowd has thinned. Perhaps — perhaps Mrs. Lefevre might help me. It's a horrid road to her poky little house, but she's very kind, even if she is pious.

(Thrusts Dandy along an almost inaccessible path; halts in the shadow of a clump of rhododendron, and watches the lighted windows of Mrs. Lefevre's small cottage.)

Oh! horror! so that's where Aunt is dining! Back, Dandy, back! Dandy, dearest, step softly! (Regains road, panting.) I'll never forgive Mrs. Hauksbee! — never. And there's the band beginning 'God save the Queen', and that means the Viceroy has come; and Charley will think I've disappointed him on purpose, because I was so rude last time. And I'm all but ready. Oh! it's cruel, cruel! I'll go home, and I'll go straight to bed, and Charley may dance with any other horrid girl he likes!

(The last of the 'rickshaw lights pass her as she reaches the main road. Clatter of stones overhead and squeak of a saddle as a big horse picks his way down a steep path above, and a robust baritone chants)—

Our King went forth to Normandie With power of might and chivalry; The Lord for him wrought wondrously, Therefore now may England cry, Deo Gratias !

(Swings into main road, and the young moon shows a glimpse of the cream, and silver of the Deccan Irregular Horse uniform under rider's opened cloak.>

May. (Leaning forward and taking reins short.) That's Charley! What a splendid voice! Just like a big, strong angel's! I wonder what he is so happy about? How he sits his horse! And he hasn't anything round his neck, and he'll catch his death of cold! If he sees me riding in this direction, he may stop and ask me why, and I can't explain. Fate's against me tonight. I'll canter past quickly. Bless you, Charley!

(Canters up the main road, under the shadow of the pines, as Hawley canters down. Dandy's hoofs keep the tune 'There was never a daughter of Eve' etc. All Earth wakes, and tells the Stars. The Occupants of the Little Simla Cemetery stir in their sleep.)

PINES OF THE CEMETERY (to the OCCUPANTS)

Lie still, lie still! O earth to earth returning ! Brothers beneath, what wakes you to your pain?

The OCCUPANTS (underground)

Earth's call to earth — the old unstifled yearning, To clutch our lives again. By summer shrivelled and by winter frozen, Ye cannot thrust us wholly from the light, Do we not know, who were of old his chosen, Love rides abroad tonight? By all that was our own of joy or sorrow, By Pain foredone, Desire snatched away ! By hopeless weight of that unsought Tomorrow, Which is our lot today, By vigil in our chambers ringing hollow, With Love's foot overhead to mock our dearth, We who have come would speak for those who follow — Be pitiful, O Earth!

(The Devil of Chance, in the similitude of a gray ape, runs out on the branch of an overhanging tree, singing—

On a road that is pied as a panther's hide The shadows flicker and dance. And the leaves that make them, my hand shall shake them— The hand of the Devil of Chance. Echo from the Snows on the Thibet road — The little blind Devil of Chance. The Devil (swinging the branch furiously)— Yea, chance and confusion and error The chain of their destiny wove; And the horse shall be smitten with terror, And the maiden made sure of her love!

(Dandy shies at the waving shadows, and cannons into Hawley's horse, off shoulder to off shoulder. Hawley catches the reins.)

The Devil, above (letting the branch swing back)— On a road that is pied as a panther's hide The souls of the twain shall dance! And the passions that shake them, my hand shall wake them— The hand of the Devil of Chance. Echo— The little blind Devil of Chance.

Hawley. (Recovering himself.) Confou — er — hm! Oh, Miss Holt! And to what am I indebted for this honour?

May. Dandy shied. I hope you aren't hurt?

All Earth, the Flowers, the Trees, and the Moonlight (together to Hawley). Speak now, or for ever hold your peace!

Hawley (Drawing reins tighter, keeping his horse's off shoulder to Dandy's side.) My fault entirely. (It comes easily now.) Not much hurt, are you (leaning off side, and putting his arm round her), my May? It's awfully mean, I know, but I meant to speak weeks ago, only you never gave a fellow the chance — 'specially last time. (Moistens his lips.) I'm not fit — I'm utterly— (in a gruff whisper) — I'm utterly unworthy, and — and you aren't angry, May, are you? I thought you might have cared a little bit. Do you care, darl —?

May (Her head falling on his right shoulder. The arm tightens.) Oh! don't — don't!

Hawley. (Nearly tumbling off his horse.) Only one, darling. We can talk at the dance!

May. But I can't go to the dance.

Hawley. (Taking another promptly as head is raised.) Nonsense! You must, dear, now. Remember I go down to my Regiment the day after to-morrow, and I shan't see you again. (Catches glimpse of steel-gray slipper in stirrup.) Why, you're dressed for it !

May. Yes, but I can't go! I've — torn my dress.

Hawley. Run along and put on a new one; only be quick. Shall I wait here?

May. No! Go away! Go at once!

Hawley. You'll find me opposite the cloakroom.

May. Yes, yes! Anything! Good-night!

(Hawley canters up the road, and the song breaks out again fortissimo.)

May. (Absently, picking up reins.) Yes, indeed. My king went forth to Normandie; and — I shall never get there. Let me think, though! Let me think! It's all over now — all over! I wonder what I ought to have said! I wonder what I did say! Hold up, Dandy ; you need some one to order you about. It's nice to have some one nice to order you about. (Flicks horse, who capers.)

Oh, don't jiggit, Dandy! I feel so trembly and faint. But I shan't see him for ever so long. . . But we understand now. (Dandy turns down path to Mrs. Scriffshaw's house.) And I wanted to go to the dance so much before, and now I want to go worse than ever! (Dismounts, runs into house, and weeps with her head on the drawing-room table.)

(Enter Scriffshaw, grizzled Lieutenant-Colonel.)

Scriffshaw. May! Bless my soul, what's all this? What's all this? (Shawl slips.) And, bless my soul, what's all this?

May. N—nothing. Only I'm miserable and wretched.

Scriffshaw. But where have you been? I thought you were in your own room.

May. (With icy desperation.) I was, till you had fallen asleep. Then I dressed myself for a dance — this dance that Aunt has forbidden me to go to. Then I took Dandy out, and then — (collapsing and wriggling her shoulders) — doesn't it show enough?

Scriffshaw. (Critically.) It does, dear, I thought those things — er — laced up the front.

May. This one doesn't. That's all. (Weeps afresh.)

Scriffshaw. Then what are you going to do? Bless my soul, May don't cry!

May. I will cry, and I'll sit here till Aunt comes home, and then she'll see what I've been trying to do, and I'll tell her that I hate her, and ask her to send me back to Calcutta!

Scriffshaw. But — but if she finds you in this dress she'll be furiously angry with me!

May. For allowing me to put it on? So much the better. Then you'll know what it is to be scolded by Aunt.

Scriffshaw. I knew that before you were born. (Standing by May's bowed head.)

(She's my sister's child, and I don't think Alice has the very gentlest way with girls. I'm sure her mother wouldn't object if we took her to twenty dances. She can't find us amusing company — and Alice will be simply beside herself under any circumstances. I know her tempers after those 'refreshing evenings' at the Lefevres'.)

May, dear, don't cry like that!

May. I will! I will! I will! You — you don't know why!

Scriffshaw. (Revolving many matters) We may just as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb.

May. (Raising head swiftly.) Uncle John!

Scriffshaw. You see, my dear, your aunt can't be a scrap more angry than she will be if you don't take off that frock. She looks at the intention of things.

May. Yes; disobedience, of course. (And I'll only obey one person in the wide living world.) Well?

Scriffshaw. Your aunt may be back at any moment. I can't face her.

May. Well?

Scriffshaw. Let's go to the dance. I'll jump into my uniform, and then see if I can't put those things straight. We may just as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb. (And there's the chance of a rubber.) Give me five minutes, and we'll fly. (Dives into his room, leaving May astounded.)

Scriffshaw. (From the room.) Tell them to bring round Dolly Bobs. We can get away quicker on horseback.

May. But really, Uncle, hadn't you better go in a 'rickshaw? Aunt says —

Scriffshaw. We're in open mutiny now. We'll ride. (Emerges in full uniform.) There!

May. Oh, Uncle John! you look perfectly delightful — and so martial, too!

Scriffshaw. I was martial once. Suppose your aunt came in? Let me see if I can lace those things of yours. That's too tight — eh?

May. No! Much, much tighter. You must bring the edges together. Indeed you must. And lace it quick! Oh! what if Aunt should come? Tie it in a knot! Any sort of knot.

Scriffshaw. (Lacing bodice after a fashion of his own devising.) Yes — yes! I see! Confound! That's all right! (They pass into the garden and mount their horses.) Let go her head! By Jove, May, how well you ride!

May. (As they race through the shadows neck and neck.) (Small blame to me. I'm riding to my love.) Go along, Dandy Boy! Wasn't that Aunt's 'rickshaw that passed just now? She'll come to the dance and fetch us back.

Scriffshaw. (After the gallop.) Who cares?

SCENE – Main ball-room of the Simla Town-hall; dancing-floor grooved and tongued teak, vaulted roof, and gallery round the walls. Four hundred people dispersed in couples. Banners, bayonet-stars on walls ; red and gold, blue and gold, chocolate, buff, rifle-green, black and other uniforms under glare of a few hundred lamps. Cloak and supper-rooms at the sides, with alleys leading to Chinese-lanterned verandahs. Hawley, at entrance, receives May as she drops from her horse and passes towards cloak-rooms.

Hawley. (As he pretends to rearrange shawl.) Oh, my love, my love, my love!

May. (Her eyes on the ground.) Let me go and get these things off. I'm trying to control my eyes, but it is written on my face. (Dashes into cloak-room.)

Newly married Wife of Captain of Engineers to Husband. No need to ask what has happened there, Dick.

Husband. No, bless 'em both, whoever they are!

Hawley. (Under his breath.) Damn his impertinence!

(May comes from cloak-room, having completely forgotten to do more than look at her face and hair in the glass.)

Hawley. Here's the programme, dear!

May. (Returning it with pretty gesture of surrender.) Here's the programme — dear!

(Hawley draws line from top to bottom, initials, and returns card.) May. You can't! It's perfectly awful! But — I should have been angry if you hadn't. (Taking his arm.) Is it wrong to say that?

Hawley. It sounds delicious. We can sit out all the squares and dance all the round dances. There are heaps of square dances at Volunteer balls. Come along!

May. One minute! I want to tell my chaperon something.

Hawley. Come along! You belong to me now.

May. (Her eyes seeking Mrs. Hauksbee, who is seated on an easy-chair by an alcove.) But it was so awfully sudden!

Hawley. My dear infant! When a girl throws herself literally into a man's arms —

May. I didn't! Dandy shied

Hawley. Don't shy to conclusions. That man is never going to let her go. Come!

(May catches Mrs. H.'s eye. Telegraphs a volume, and receives by return two. Turns to go with Hawley.)

Mrs. H. (As she catches sight of back of May's dress.) Oh, horror! Assunta shall die tomorrow! (Sees Scriffshaw fluctuating uneasily among the chaperons, and following his niece's departure with the eye of an artist.)

Mrs.H. (Furiously.) Colonel Scriffshaw, you — you did that?

Scriffshaw. (Imbecilely.) The lacing? Yes. I think it will hold.

Mrs. H. You monster ! Go and tell her. No don't! (Falling back in chair.) I have lived to see every proverb I believed in a lie. The maid has forgotten her attire! (What a handsome couple they make! Anyhow, he doesn't care, and she doesn't know.) How did you come here, Colonel Scriffshaw?

Scriffshaw. Strictly against orders. (Uneasily.) I'm afraid I shall have my wife looking for me.

Mrs. H. I fancy you will. (Sees reflection of herself in the mirrors — black-lace dinner dress, blood-red poinsettia at shoulder and girdle to secure single brace of black lace. Silver shoes, silver-handled black fan.) (You're looking pretty tonight, dear. I wish your husband were here.)

(Aloud, to drift of expectant men.) No, no, no ! For the hundredth time, Mrs. Hauksbee is not dancing this evening. (Her hands are full, or she is in error. Now, the chances are that I shan't see May again till it is time to go, and I may see Mrs. Scriffshaw at any moment.)

Colonel, will you take me to the supper-room? The hall's chilly without perpetual soups. (Goes out on Colonel's arm. Passing the cloak-room, sees portion of Mrs. Scriffshaw's figure.) (Before me the Deluge!) If I were you, Colonel Scriffshaw, I'd go to the whist-room, and — stay there.

(S.follows the line of her eye, and blanches as he flies.) She has come — to — take them home, and she is quite capable of it. What shall I do? (Looks across the supper-tables. Sees Major Decker, a big black-haired Irishman, and attacks him among the meringues.) Major Decker! Dear Major Decker! If ever I was a friend of yours, help me now!

Major D. I will indeed. What is it?

Mrs. H. (Walking him back deftly in the direction of the cloak-room door.) I want you to be very kind to a very dear friend of mine — a Mrs. Scriffshaw. She doesn't come to dances much, and, being very sensitive, she feels neglected if no one asks her to dance. She really waltzes divinely, though you might not think it. There she is, walking out of the cloak-room now, in the high dress. Please come and be introduced. (Under her eyelashes.) You're an Irishman, Major, and you've got a way with you.

(Planting herself in front of Mrs. S.)Mrs. Scriffshaw, may I wah-wah-wah Decker? — wah-wah-wah Decker? Mrs. Scuffles. (Flies hastily.) Saved for a moment! And now, if I can enlist the Viceroy on my side, I may do something.

Major D. (To Mrs. S.) The pleasure of a dance with you, Mrs. Scruffun?

Mrs. Scriffshaw. (Backing, and filling in the doorway.) Sirr!

Major D. (Smiling persuasively.) You've forgotten me, I see! I had the pleasure o' meeting you — (there's missionary in every line o' that head)—at — at — the last Presbyterian Conference.

Mrs. S. (Strict Wesleyan Methodist.) I was never there.

Major D. (Retiring en échelon towards two easy-chairs.) Were ye not, now? That's queer. Let's sit down here and talk over it, and perhaps we will strike a chord of mutual reminiscence. (Sits down exhaustedly.) And if it was not at the Conference, where was it?

Mrs. S. (Icily, looking for her husband.) I apprehend that our paths in the world are widely different.

Major D. (My faith ! they are !) Not the least in the world. (Mrs. S. shudders.) Are you sitting in a draught? Shall we try a turn at the waltz now?

Mrs. S. (Rising to the expression of her abhorrence.) My husband is Colonel Scriffshaw. I should be much obliged if you would find him for me.

Major D. (Throwing up his chin.) Scriffshaw, begad! I saw him just now at the other end of the room. (I'll get a dance out of the old woman, or I'll die for it.) We'll just waltz up there an' inquire. (Hurls Mrs. S. into the waltz. Revolves ponderously.)

(Mrs.Hauksbee has perjured herself — but not on my behalf. She's ruining my instep.) No, he's not at this end. (Circling slowly.) We'll just go back to our chairs again. If he won't dance with so magnificent a dancer as his wife, he doesn't deserve to be here, or anywhere else. That's my one sound knee-cap she's kicking now.) (Halts at point of departure.) And now we'll watch for him here.

Mrs. S. (Panting.) Abominable! Infamous!

Major D. Oh no! He's not so bad as that! Prob'bly playin' whist in the kyard-rooms. Will I look for him? (Departs, leaving Mrs. S. purple in the face among the chaperons, and passes Mrs. H. in close conversation with a partner.)

Major D. (To Mrs. H., not noticing her partner.) She's kicked me to pieces. She can dance no more than a Windsor chair, an' now she's sent me to look for her husband. You owe me something for this.

(The Viceroy, by Jove!)

Mrs. H. (Turning to her partner and concluding story.) A base betrayal of confidence, of course; but the woman's absolutely without tact, and capable of making a scene at a minute's notice, besides doing her best to wreck the happiness of two lives, after her treatment at Major Decker's hands. But on the Dress Reform Committee, and under proper supervision, she would be most valuable.

HIS Excellency the Viceroy and Governor-General of India. (Diplomatic uniform, stars, etc.) But surely the work of keeping order among the waltzers is entrusted to abler hands. I cannot, cannot fight! I — I only direct armies.

Mrs. H. No. But your Excellency has not quite grasped the situation. (Explains it with desperate speed, one eye on Mrs. S. panting on her chair.) So you see! Husband fled to the whist-room for refuge; girl with lover, who goes down the day after tomorrow; and she is loose. She will be neither to hold nor to bind after the Major's onslaught, save by you. And on a committee — she really would —

HIS Excellency. I see. I am penetrated with an interest in Eurasian dress reform. I never felt so alive to the importance of committees before.(Screwing up his eyes to see across the room.) But pardon me — my sight is not so good as it has been — which of that line of Mothers in Israel do I attack! The wearied one who is protesting with a fan against this scene of riot and dissipation?

Mrs. H. Can you doubt for a moment? I'm afraid your task is a heavy one, but the happiness of two —

HIS Excellency. (Wearily.) Hundred and fifty million souls? Ah, yes! And yet they say a Viceroy is overpaid. Let us advance, It will not talk to me about its husband's unrecognised merits, will it? You have no idea how inevitably the conversation drifts in that direction when I am left alone with a lady. They tell me of Poor Tom, or Dear Dick, or Persecuted Paul, before I have time to explain that these things are really regulated by my Secretaries. On my honour, I sometimes think that the ladies of India are polyandrous !

Mrs. H. Would it be so difficult to credit that they love their husbands?

HIS Excellency. That also is possible. One of your many claims to my regard is that you have never mentioned your husband.

Mrs. H. (Sweetly.) No; and as long as he is where he is, I have not the least intention of doing so.

HIS Excellency. (As they approach the row of eminently self- conscious chaperons.) And, by the way, where is he?

(Mrs. H. lays her fan lightly over her heart, bows her head, and moves on.)

HIS Excellency. (As the chaperons become more self-conscious, drifting to vacant chair at Mrs. S.'s side.) That also is possible. I do not recall having seen him elsewhere, at any rate. (Watching Mrs. S.) How very like twenty thousand people that I could remember if I had time!

(Glides into vacant chair. Mrs. S. colours to the temples; chaperons exchange glances. In a voice of strained honey.) May I be pardoned for attacking you so brusquely on matters of public importance, Mrs. Scriffshaw? But my times are not my own, and I have heard so much about the good work you carry on so successfully. (When she has quite recovered I may learn what that work was.)

(Mrs. S., in tones meant for the benefit of all the chaperons, discourses volubly, with little gasps, of her charitable mission work.)

HIS Excellency. How interesting! Of course, quite natural! What we want most on our dress reform committee is a firm hand and enormous local knowledge. Men are so tactless. You have been too proud, Mrs. Scriffshaw, to offer us your help in that direction. So, you see, I come to ask it as a favour. (Gives Mrs. S. to understand that the Eurasian dress reform committee cannot live another hour without her help and comfort.)

First Aide. (By doorway within eye-reach of His Excellency.) What in the world is His Excellency tackling now?

Second Aide. (In attitude of fascination.) Looks as if it had been a woman once. Anyhow, it isn't amusing him. I know that smile when he is in acute torment.

Mrs. H. (Coming up behind him.) 'Now the Serpent was more subtle than any beast of the field!'

Second Aide. (Turning.) Ah! Your programme full, of course,Mrs. Hauksbee?

Mrs. H. I'm not dancing, and you should have asked me before. You Aides have no manners.

First Aide. You must excuse him. Hugh's a blighted being. He's watching somebody dance with somebody else, and somebody's wanting to dance with him.

Mrs. H. (Keenly, under her eyebrows.) You're too young for that rubbish.

Second Aide. It's his imagination. He's all right, but Government House duty is killing me. My heart's in the plains with a dear little, fat little, lively little nine-foot tiger. I want to sit out over that kill instead of watching over His Excellency.

Mrs. H. Don't they let the Aides out to play, then?

Second Aide. Not me. I've got to do most of Duggy's work while he runs after —

Mrs. H. Never mind! A discontented Aide is a perpetual beast. One of you boys will take me to a chair, and then leave me. No, I don't want the delights of your conversation.

Second Aide. (As first goes off.) When Mrs. Hauksbee is attired in holy simplicity it generally means — larks!

HIS Excellency. (To Mrs. Scriffshaw.). . . And so we all wanted to see more of you. I felt I was taking no liberty when I dashed into affairs of State at so short a notice. It was with the greatest difficulty I could find you. Indeed, I hardly believed my eyes when I saw you waltzing so divinely just now. (She will first protest, and next perjure herself.)

Mrs. S. (Weakly.) But I assure you —

HIS Excellency. My eyes are not so old that they cannot recognise a good dancer when they see one.

Mrs. S. (With a simper.) But only once in a way, Your Excellency.

HIS Excellency. (Of course.) That is too seldom — much too seldom. You should set our younger folk an example. These slow swirling waltzes are tiring. I prefer — as I see you do — swifter measures.

Major D. (Entering main door in strict charge of Scriffshaw, who fears the judgement.) Yes! she sent me to look for you, after giving me the dance of the evening. I'll never forget it!

Scriffshaw. (His jaw dropping.) My — wife — danced — with — you! I mean — anybody!

Major D. Anybody! Aren't I somebody enough? (Looking across room.) Faith! you're right, though! There she is in a corner flirting with the Viceroy! I was not good enough for her. Well, it's no use to interrupt 'em.

Scriffshaw. Certainly not! We'll — we'll get a drink and go back to the whist-rooms. (Alice must be mad! At any rate, I'm safe, I sup- pose.)

(HIS Excellency rises and fades away from Mrs. Scriffshaw's side after a long and particular pressure of the hand. Mrs. S. throws herself back in her chair with the air of one surfeited with similar attentions, and the chaperons begin to talk.)

HIS Excellency. (Leaning over Mrs. H.'s chair with an absolutely expressionless countenance.) She is a truly estimable lady — one that I shall count it an honour to number among my friends. No! she will not move from her place, because I have expressed a hope that, a little later on in the dance, we may renew our very interesting conversation. And now, if I could only get my boys together, I think I would go home. Have you seen any Aide who looked as though a Viceroy belonged to him?

Mrs. H. The feet of the young men are at the door without. You leave early.

HIS Excellency. Have I not done enough?

Mrs. H. (Half rising from her chair.) Too much, alas! Too much! Look!

HIS Excellency. (Regarding Mrs. Scriffshaw, who has risen and is moving towards a side door.) How interesting! By every law known to me she should have waited in that chair — such a comfortable chair — for my too tardy return. But now she is loose! How has this happened?

Mrs. H. (Half to herself, shutting and opening fan.) She is looking for May! I know it! Oh! why wasn't she isolated? One of those women has taken revenge on Mrs. Scriffshaw's new glory — you — by telling her that May has been sitting out too much with Mr. Hawley.

HIS Excellency. Blame me! Always blame a Viceroy! (Mrs. H. moves away.) What are you meditating?

Mrs. H. Following — watching — administering — anything! I fly! I know where they are!

HIS Excellency. The plot thickens! May I come to administer?

Mrs. H. (Over her shoulder.) If you can!

(Mrs. H. flies down a darkened corridor speckled with occasional Chinese lanterns, and establishes herself behind a pillar as Mrs. S. sweeps by to the darkest end, where May and Hawley are sitting very close together. HIS Excellency follows Mrs. H.)

Mrs. S. (To both the invisibles.) Well!

HIS Excellency. (To Mrs. H. in a whisper.) Now, I should be afraid. I should run away.

Mrs. S. (In a high pitched voice of the matron.) May, go to the cloak-room at once, and wait till I come. I wonder you expect any one to speak to you after this! (May hurries down corridor very considerably agitated.)

HIS Excellency. (As May passes, slightly raising his voice, and with all the deference due to half a dozen Duchesses.) May an old man be permitted to offer you his arm, my dear? (To Mrs. H.) I entreat — I command you to delay the catastrophe till I return!

Mrs. H. (Plunging into the darkness, and halting before a dead wall.) Oh! I thought there was a way round! (Pretends to discover the two.) Mrs. Scriffshaw and Mr. Hawley! (With exaggerated emphasis.) Mrs. Scriffshaw — Oh ! Mrs. Scriffshaw! — how truly shocking! What will that dear, good husband of yours say? (Smothered chuckle from Hawley, who otherwise preserves silence. Snorts of indignation from Mrs. S.)

Mrs. H (Hidden by pillar of observation.) Now, in any other woman that would have been possibly weak — certainly vulgar. But I think it has answered the purpose.

HIS Excellency. (Returning, and taking up his post at her side.) Poor little girl! She was shaking all over. What an enormous amount of facile emotion exists in the young! What is about to —

Mrs. S. (In a rattling whisper to Hawley.) Take me to some quieter place.

Hawley. On my word, you seem to be accustomed to very quiet places. I'm sorry I don't know any more secluded nook; but if you have anything to say —

Mrs. S. Say, indeed! I wish you to understand that I consider your conduct abominable, sir!

Hawley. (In level, expressionless voice.) Yes? Explain yourself.

Mrs. S. In the first place, you meet my niece at an entertainment of which I utterly disapprove —

Hawley. To the extent of dancing with Major Decker, the most notorious loose fish in the whole room? Yes.

Mrs. S. (Hotly.) That was not my fault. It was entirely against my inclination.

Hawley. It takes two to make a waltz. Presumably, you are capable of expressing your wishes — are you not?

Mrs. S. I did. It was — only — and I couldn't —

Hawley. (Relentlessly.) Well, it's a most serious business. I've been talking it over with May.

Mrs. S. May!

Hawley. Yes, May; and she has assured me that you do not do — er — this sort of thing often. She assured me of that.

Mrs. S. But by what right —

Hawley. You see, May has promised to marry me, and one can't be too careful about one's connections.

HIS Excellency. (To Mrs. H.) That young man will go far! This is invention indeed.

Mrs. H. He seems to have marched some paces already. (Blessed be the chance that led me to the Major! I can always say that I meant

Mrs. S. May has promised. . . this is worse than ever! And I was not consulted!

Hawley. If 1 had known the precise hour, you know, I might possibly have chosen to take you into my confidence.

Mrs. S. May should have told me.

Hawley. You mustn't worry May about it. Is that perfectly clear to you?

HIS Excellency. (To Mrs. H.) What a singularly flat, hopeless tone he has chosen to talk in — as if he were speaking to a coolie from a distance.

Mrs. H. Yes. It's the one note that will rasp through her over-strained nerves.

HIS Excellency. You know him well?

Mrs. H. I trained him.

HIS Excellency. Then she collapses.

Mrs. H. If she does not, all my little faith in man is gone for ever.

Mrs. S. (To Hawley.) This is perfectly monstrous! It's conduct utterly unworthy of a man, much less a gentleman. What do I know of you, or your connections, or your means?

Hawley. Nothing. How could you?

Mrs. S. How could I? ... Because — because I insist on knowing?

Hawley. Then am I to understand that you are anxious to marry me? Suppose we talk to the Colonel about that ?

HIS Excellency. (To Mrs. H.) Very far, indeed, will that young man go.

Mrs. S. (Almost weeping with anger.) Will you let me pass ? I — I want to go away. I've no language at my command that could convey to you —

Hawley. Then surely it would be better to wait here till the inspira- tion comes?

Mrs. S. But this is insolence!

Hawley. You must remember that you drove May, who, by the way, is a woman, out of this place like a hen. That was insolence, Mrs.Scriffshaw — to her.

Mrs. S. To her ? She's my husband's sister's child.

Hawley. And she is going to do me the honour of carrying my name. I am accountable to your husband's sister in Calcutta. Sit down, please.

HIS Excellency. She will positively assault him in a minute. I can hear her preparing for a spring.

Mrs. H. He will be able to deal with that too, if it happens. (I trained him. Bear witness, heaven and earth, I trained him, that his tongue should guard his head with my sex.)

Mrs. S. (Feebly.) What shall I do? What can I do? (Through her teeth.) I hate you!

HIS Excellency. (Critically.) Weak. The end approaches.

Mrs. S. You're not the sort of man I should have chosen for anybody's husband.

Hawley. I can't say your choice seems particularly select — Major Decker, for instance. And believe me, you are not required to choose husbands for anybody.

(Mrs. Scriffshaw looses all the double-thonged lightnings of her tongue, condemns Hawley as no gentleman, an imposter, possibly a bigamist, a defaulter, and every other unpleasant character she has ever read of; announces her unalterable intention of refusing to recognise the engagement, and of harrying May tooth and talon; and renews her request to be allowed to pass. No answer.)

HIS Excellency. What a merciful escape! She might have attacked me on the chairs in this fashion. What will he do now?

Mrs. H. I have faith — illimitable faith.

Mrs. S. (At the end of her resources.) Well, what have you to say?

Hawley. (In a placid and most insinuating drawl.) Aunt Alice — give — me — a — kiss.

HIS Excellency. Beautiful! Oh! thrice beautiful! And my Secretaries never told me there were men like this in the Empire.

Mrs. S. (Bewilderedly, beginning to sob.) Why — why should I?

Hawley. Because you will make — you really will — a delightful aunt-in-law, and it will save such a lot of trouble when May and I are married, and you have to accept me as a relation.

Mrs. S. (Weeping gently.) But — but you're taking the management of affairs into your own hands.

Hawley. Quite so. They are my own affairs. And do you think that my aunt is competent to manage other people's affairs when she doesn't know whether she means to dance or sit out, and when she chooses the very worst —

Mrs. S. (Appealingly.) Oh, don't — don't! Please, don't! (Bursts into tears.)

HIS Excellency. (To Mrs. H.) Unnecessarily brutal, surely? She's crying.

Mrs. H. No! It's nothing. We all cry — even the worst of us.

Hawley. Well?

Mrs. S. (Sniffling, with a rustle.) There!

Hawley. No, no, no! I said give it to me! (It is given.)

HIS Excellency. (Carried away.) And I? What am I doing here, pretending to govern India, while that man languishes in a lieutenant's uniform?

Mrs. H. (Speaking very swiftly and distinctly.) It rests with Your Excellency to raise him to honour. He should go down the day after tomorrow. A month at Simla, now, would mean Paradise to him, and one of your Aides is dying for a little tiger-shooting.

HIS Excellency. But would such an Archangel of Insolence condescend to run errands for me?

Mrs. H. You can but try.

HIS Excellency. I shall be afraid of him; but we'll see if we can get the Commander-in-Chief to lend him to me.

Hawley. (To Mrs. S.) There, there, there! It's nothing to make a fuss about, is it? Come along, Aunt Alice, and I'll tuck you into your 'rickshaw, and you shall go home quite comfy, and the Colonel and I will bring May home later. I go down to my regiment the day after tomorrow, worse luck! So you won't have me long to trouble you. But we quite understand each other, don't we? (Emerges from the darkness, very tenderly escorting the very much shaken Mrs. Scriffshaw.)

HIS Excellency. (To Mrs. H. as the captive passes.) I feel as if I ought to salute that young man; but I must go to the ball-room. Send him to me as soon as you can. (Drifts in direction of music. Hawley returns to Mrs. H.)

Hawley. (Mopping his forehead.) Phew! I have had easier duties.

Mrs. H. How could you? How dared you? I builded better than I knew. It was cruel, but it was superb.

Hawley. Who taught me? Where's May?

Mrs. H. In the cloak-room — being put to rights — I fervently trust.

Hawley. (Guiltily.) They wear their fringes so low on their foreheads that one can't —

Mrs. H. (Laughing.) Oh, you goose! That wasn't it. His Excellency wants to speak to you! (Hawley turns to ball-room as Mrs. H. flings herself down in a chair.)

Mrs. H. (Alone.) For two seasons, at intervals, I formed the infant mind. Heavens, how raw he was in the beginning! And never once throughout his schooling did he disappoint you, dear. Never once, by word or look or sign, did he have the unspeakable audacity to fall in love with you. No, he chose his maiden, then he stopped his confidences, and conducted his own wooing, and in open fight slew his aunt-in-law. But he never, being a wholesome, dear, delightful boy, fell in love with you, Mrs. Hauksbee; and I wonder whether you liked it or whether you didn't. Which? ... You certainly never gave him a chance. . . but that was the very reason why. . . (Half aloud.) Mrs. Hauksbee, you are an idiot!

(Enters main ball-room just in time to see HIS Excellency conferring with Hawley, Aides in background.)

HIS Excellency. Have you any very pressing employments in the plains, Mr. Hawley?

Hawley. Regimental duty. Native Cavalry, sir.

HIS Excellency. And, of course, you are anxious to return at once?

Hawley. Not in the least, sir.

HIS Excellency. Do you think you could relieve one of my boys here for a month?

Hawley. Most certainly, sir

Second Aide. (Behind Viceroy's shoulders, shouting in dumb show.) My tiger! My tiger! My tigerling!

HIS Excellency. (Lowering his voice and regarding Hawley be- tween his eyes.) But could we trust you — ahem! — not to insist on ordering kisses at inopportune moments from — people?

Hawley. (Dropping eyes.) Not when I'm on duty, sir.

HIS Excellency. (Turning.) Then I'll speak to the Commander-in- Chief about it.

Mrs. H. (As she sees gratified expression of the Viceroy's and Hawley's lowered eyes.) I am sometimes sorry that I am a woman, but I'm very glad that I'm not a man, and — I shouldn't care to be an angel. (Mrs. Scriffshaw and May pass — the latter properly laced, the former regarding the lacing.) So that's settled at last.

(To Mrs. S.) Your husband, Mrs. Scriffshaw? Yes, I know. But don't be too hard on him. Perhaps he never did it, after all.

Mrs. S. (With a grunt of infinite contempt.) Mrs. Hauksbee, that man has tried to lace me!

Mrs. H. (Then he's bolder than I thought. She will avenge all her outrages on the Colonel.) May, come and talk to me a moment, dear.

First Aide. (To Hawley, as the Viceroy drifts away.) Knighted on the field of battle, by Jove! What the deuce have you been doing to His Excellency?

Second Aide. I'll bet on it that Mrs. Hauksbee is at the bottom of this, somehow. I told her what I wanted, and —

Hawley. Never look a gift tiger in the mouth. It's apt to bite. (Departs in search of May.)

HIS Excellency. (To Mrs. H. as he passes her sitting out with May.) No, I am not so afraid of your young friend. Have I done well?

Mrs. H.Exceedingly. (In a whisper, including May.) She is a pretty girl, isn't she?

HIS Excellency. (Regarding mournfully, his chin on his breast.) O youth, youth, youth !Si la jeunesse savait — si la vieillesse pouvait.

Mrs. H.(Incautiously.) Yes, but in this case we have seen that youth did know quite as much as was good for it, and— (Stops.)

HIS Excellency. And age had power, and used it. Sufficient reward, perhaps; but I hardly expected the reminder from you.

Mrs. H. No. I won't try to excuse it. Perhaps the slip is as well, for it reminds me that I am but mortal, and in watching you controlling the destinies of the universe I thought I was as the gods!

HIS Excellency. Thank you! I go to be taken away. But it has been an interesting evening.

Scriffshaw. (Very much disturbed after the Viceroy has passed on, to Mrs. H.) Now, what in the world was wrong with my lacing? My wife didn't appear angry about my bringing May here. I'm informed she danced several dances herself. But she — she gave it me awfully in the supper-room for my — ahem! — lady's-maid's work. Fearfully she gave it me! What was wrong? It held, didn't it?

May. (From her chair.) It was beautiful, Uncle John. It was the best thing in the world you could have done. Never mind. I forgive you. (To Hawley, behind her.) No, Charley. No more dances for just a little while. Ask Mrs. Hauksbee now.

(Alarums and Excursions. The ball-room is rent in twain as the Viceroy, Aides, etc., file out between Lines of Volunteers and Uniforms.)

BAND IN THE GALLERY—

God save our gracious Queen, Heaven bless our noble Queen, God save the Queen! Send her victorious, Happy and glorious, Long to reign over us, God save the Queen!

Hawley. (Behind Mrs. H.'s chair.) Amen, your Imperial Majesty!

Mrs. H. (Looking up, head thrown back on left shoulder.) Thank you! Yes, you can have the next if you want it. Mrs. Hauksbee isn't sitting out any more.

title: Mrs. Hauksbee Sits Out


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Page:Public General Statutes 1896.djvu/451

1896. officer or servant who has been dismissed or required to resign, or of any proposal to grant a gratuity under this Act, will be considered.

10. Every superannuation allowance granted under this Act shall be payable to or in trust for the officer or servant, and shall not be assignable or chargeable with his debts or other liabilities.

11. Every board of guardians shall make annually to the Local Government Board, in the form and at the time prescribed by the Board, a return of all superannuation allowances and gratuities paid by them under this Act during the preceding year, with such particulars as to the names and ages of the recipients and otherwise as the Board shall require.

Contribution. 12. Subject to the provisions of this Act, every officer and Obligation of servant in the service or employment of the guardians of a union shall contribute annually for the purposes of this Act a percentage amount of his salary or wages and emoluments according to the scale laid down by this Act, such amount to be from time to time deducted from the salary or wages payable to him and to be carried to and form part of the common fund of the union.

13. The percentage amounts to be deducted annually for the purposes of this Act shall be as follows, that is to say—

In the case of officers and servants with less than five years service at the passing of this Act, or appointed after the passing of this Act, two per cent, of the salary or wages and emoluments for each year:

In the case of officers and servants with more than five and less than fifteen years' service at the passing of this Act, two and a half per cent, of the .salary or wages and emoluments for each year:

In the case of officers and servants with more than fifteen years' service at the passing of this Act, three per cent, of the salary or wages and emoluments for each year.

Application of Act to other Authorities. . The provisions of this Act shall apply to the managers of district schools and sick asylums, and to the managers of the metropolitan asylums district, and to their officers and servants, in asylums, in like manner as nearly as may be as they apply to guardians and to their officers and servants; and the contributions of the officers and servants of such managers shall be carried to and form part of the fund applicable to the general expenses of such managers, and the superannuation allowances and gratuities under this Act shall be paid out of the said fund.

Existing Officers and Servants. 15. Any officer or servant in the service or employment of guardians or any other authority to whom this Act applies may at

license: Creative Commons - Attribution Share-Alike - https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/4.0/


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Page:Public General Statutes 1896.djvu/452

432 any time within three months after the commencement of this Act signify in writing to such authority his intention not to avail himself of the provisions of this Act, and in that event it shall not be obligatory on him, notwithstanding anything in this Act contained, to make any contributions or submit to any deduction from his salary or wages under this Act, nor shall he be entitled to receive any superannuation allowance, gratuity, or other benefit, under this Act.

Any such officer or servant who has given such notice as aforesaid shall remain subject to the provisions of the Poor Law Officers' Superannuation Act, 1864, and the Acts amending the same as if this Act had not been passed, and those provisions shall for the purposes of this enactment continue in force notwithstanding their repeal by this Act.

Miscellaneous.

16. In the case of a paid collector of rates or assistant overseer appointed by the guardians of a union for any parish or parishes forming part of the union, the contributions of such collector or assistant overseer shall be carried by the guardians to the credit of the parish or parishes out of which his salary or emoluments is or are paid, in proportion to his respective salaries or emoluments, and any allowance or gratuity to him under this Act shall be charged to the same parish or parishes in the like proportions

17. Superintendent registrars, who are remunerated wholly or partly by fees, shall pay annually the due percentage amount of their fees to the guardians of their respective unions at the time or times prescribed by such guardians respectively, and such amounts shall be carried to and form part of the common fund of the union.

Every such superintendent registrar shall make annually in the month of October to the guardians of his union a return of the amount of the fees received by him as such superintendent registrar during the year ending on the preceding twenty-ninth day of September, and the amount so returned shall be taken as the basis upon which the percentage deduction shall be made and the superannuation allowance shall be calculated: Provided that such annual return shall be verified by a statutory declaration that the amount so returned does not exceed the total amount received by him as such superintendent registrar during the period in question.

Where the district of a superintendent registrar is situate in more than one union, the percentage amount of his fees to be carried to the common fund of each union and the amount of any superannuation allowance or gratuity to be paid to him by the guardians of each union shall be in proportion to the rateable value of the portions of the district in each union, to be ascertained by the valuation list in force, or, if there is no valuation list, by the last poor rate.


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Page:Amazing Stories Volume 01 Number 02.djvu/91

186 can ascertain the precise moment when the shock is to happen, and can succeed in launching ourselves a sufficient time beforehand into Gallia's atmosphere, I believe it will transpire that this atmosphere will amalgamate with that of the earth, and that a balloon whirled along by the combined velocity would glide into the mingled atmosphere and remain suspended in midair until the shock of the collision is over."

Count Timascheff reflected for a minute, and said, "I think, lieutenant, I understand your project. The scheme seems tenable; and I shall be ready to co-operate with you, to the best of my power, in putting it into execution."

"Only, remember," continued Procope, "there are many chances to one against our success. One instant's obstruction and stoppage in our passage, and our balloon is burnt to ashes. Still, reluctant as I am to acknowledge it, I confess that I feel our sole hope of safety rests in our getting free from this comet."

"If the chances were ten thousand to one against us," said Servadac, "I think the attempt ought to be made."

"But have we hydrogen enough to inflate a balloon?" asked the count.

"Hot air will be all that we shall require," the lieutenant answered; "we are only contemplating about an hour's journey."

"Ah, a fire-balloon! A montgolfier!" cried Servadac. "But what are you going to do for a casing?"

"I have thought of that. We must cut it out of the sails of the Dobryna; they are both light and strong," rejoined the lieutenant. Count Timascheff complimented the lieutenant upon his ingenuity, and Ben Zoof could not resist bringing the meeting to a conclusion by a ringing cheer.

Truly daring was the plan of which Lieutenant Procope had thus become the originator; but the very existence of them all was at stake, and the design must be executed resolutely. For the success of the enterprise it was absolutely necessary to know, almost to a minute, the precise time at which the collision would occur, and Captain Servadac undertook the task, by gentle means or by stern, of extracting the secret from the professor.

To Lieutenant Procope himself was entrusted the superintendence of the construction of the montgolfier, and the work was begun at once. It was to be large enough to carry the whole of the twenty-three residents in the volcano, and, in order to provide the means of floating aloft long enough to give time for selecting a proper place for descent, the lieutenant was anxious to make it carry enough hay or straw to maintain combustion for a while, and keep up the necessary supply of heated air.

The sails of the Dobryna, which had all been carefully stowed away in the Hive, were of a texture unusually close, and quite capable of being made airtight by means of a varnish, the ingredients of which were rummaged out of the promiscuous stores of the tartan. The lieutenant himself traced out the pattern and cut out the strips, and all hands were employed in seaming them together. It was hardly the work for little fingers, but Nina persisted in accomplishing her own share of it. The Russians were quite at home at occupation of this sort, and having initiated the Spaniards into its mysteries, the task of joining together the casing was soon complete. Isaac Hakkabut and the professor were the only two members of the community who took no part in this somewhat tedious proceeding.

A month passed away, but Servadac found no opportunity of getting at the information he had pledged himself to gain. On the sole occasion when he had ventured to broach the subject with the astronomer, he had received for answer that as there was no hurry to get back to the earth, there need be no concern about any dangers of transit.

Indeed, as time passed on, the professor seemed to become more and more inaccessible. A pleasant temperature enabled him to live entirely in his observatory, from which intruders were rigidly shut out. But Servadac bided his time. He grew more and more impressed with the importance of finding out the exact moment at which the impact would take place, but was content to wait for a promising opportunity to put any fresh questions on the subject to the too reticent astronomer.

Meanwhile, the earth's disc was daily increasing in magnitude; the comet traveled 50,000,000 leagues during the month, at the close of which it was not more than 78,000,000 leagues from the sun.

A thaw had now fairly set in. The breaking up of the frozen ocean was a magnificent spectacle, and "the great voice of the sea," as the whalers graphically describe it, was heard in all its solemnity. Little streams of water began to trickle down the declivities of the mountain and along the shelving shore, only to be transformed, as the melting of the snow continued, into torrents or cascades. Light vapors gathered on the horizon, and clouds were formed and carried rapidly along by breezes to which the Gallian atmosphere had long been unaccustomed. All these were doubtless but the prelude to atmospheric disturbances of a more startling character; but as indications of returning spring, they were greeted with a welcome which no apprehensions for the future could prevent being glad and hearty.

A double disaster was the inevitable consequence of the thaw. Both the schooner and the tartan were entirely destroyed. The basement of the icy pedestal on which the ships had been upheaved was gradually undermined, like the icebergs of the Arctic Ocean, by warm currents of water, and on the night of the 12th the huge block collapsed en masse, so that on the following morning nothing remained of the Dobryna and the Hansa except the fragments scattered on the shore.

Although certainly expected, the catastrophe could not fail to cause a sense of general depression. Well-nigh one of their last ties to Mother Earth had been broken; the ships were gone, and they had only a balloon to replace them!

To describe Isaac Hakkabut's rage at the destruction of the tartan would be impossible! His oaths were simply dreadful; his imprecations on the accursed race were full of wrath. He swore that Servadac and his people were responsible for his loss; he vowed that they should be sued and made to pay him damages; he asserted that he had been brought from Gourbi Island only to be plundered; in fact, he became so intolerably abusive, that Servadac threatened to put him into irons unless he conducted himself properly; whereupon the Jew,


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1896. 18. The Local Government Board may, if they think fit, determine any question which may arise between guardians or any other authority to whom this Act applies and any officer or servant, and which may be referred to them by either party, as to the right to or the amount of superannuation allowance of such officer or servant, and the decision of the Local Government Board shall be binding and conclusive.

19. In this Act, unless the context otherwise requires

"Guardians" includes the trustees or overseers of any parish appointed or incorporated under a local Act, and any vestry or other authority charged with the administration of the relief of the poor for any union, parish, or other area:

"Union" includes any parish or other area for which the relief of the poor is administered by guardians as above defined:

"Common fund of the union" means the fund out of which the salaries of the officers of the union, parish, or other area are paid:

"Officer" includes every officer in the service of an authority to whom this Act applies whether his whole time is devoted to the duties of his office or not; and for the purposes of this Act superintendent registrars and registrars of births and deaths and school attendance officers are deemed to be in the service of the guardians of the union in which their districts are situated:

"Servant" includes every servant regularly employed at wages by any such authority as aforesaid:

"Emoluments" includes all fees, poundage, and other payments made to any officer or servant as such for his own use; also the money value of any apartments, rations, or other allowances in kind appertaining to his office or employment:

"Joint appointment" includes any office the tenure whereof is determined by the death, removal, resignation, or incapacity of the holder of another office imder the same authority.

20. The enactments specified in the schedule to this Act are hereby repealed, subject to the qualification that this repeal shall not affect the payment of any superannuation allowance granted before the commencement of this Act, nor any other right or liability acquired or accrued nor anything duly done or suffered before the commencement of this Act; and the guardians of any union may if they see fit grant and pay a superannuation allowance under the said enactments to any officer who has retired before the commencement of this Act in the same manner, and subject to the same conditions, as if this Act had not been passed.

21. This Act does not extend to Scotland and Ireland.}}


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434 The SCHEDULE.

E it enacted by the Queen's most Excellent Majesty, by and with the advice and consent of the Lords Spiritual and Temporal, and Commons, in this present Parliament assembled, and by the authority of the same, as follows:

1. it shall be lawful for the Attorney-General to apply to the to High Court for an order under this Act, and if he satisfies the High Court that any person has habitually and persistently instituted institution of vexatious legal proceedings without any reasonable ground for instituting such proceedings, whether in the High Court or in any inferior court, and whether against the same person or against different persons, the court may, after hearing such person or giving him an opportunity of being heard, after assigning counsel in case such person is unable on account of poverty to retain counsel, order that no legal proceedings shall be instituted by that person in the High Court or any other court, unless he obtains the


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Rh finding that the captain was in earnest, and would not hesitate to carry the threat into effect, was fain to hold his tongue, and slunk back into his dim hole.

By the 14th the balloon was finished, and, carefully sewn and well varnished as it had been, it was really a very substantial structure. It was covered with a network that had been made from the light rigging of the yacht, and the car, composed of wicker-work that had formed partitions in the hold of the Hansa, was quite commodious enough to hold the twenty-three passengers it was intended to convey. No thought had been bestowed upon comfort or convenience, as the ascent was to last for so short a time, merely long enough for making the transit from atmosphere to atmosphere.

The necessity was becoming more and more urgent to get at the true hour of the approaching contact, but the professor seemed to grow more obstinate than ever in his resolution to keep his secret.

On the 15th the comet crossed the orbit of Mars, at the safe distance of 56,000,000 leagues; but during that night the community thought that their last hour had taken them unawares. The volcano rocked and trembled with the convulsions of internal disturbances, and Servadac and his companions, convinced that the mountain was doomed to some sudden disruption, rushed into the open air.

The first object that caught their attention as they emerged upon the open rocks was the unfortunate professor, who was scrambling down the mountain-side, piteously displaying a fragment of his shattered telescope.

It was no time for condolence.

A new marvel arrested every eye. A fresh satellite, in the gloom of night, was shining conspicuously before them.

That satellite was a part of Gallia itself!

By the expansive action of the inner heat, Gallia, like Gambart's comet, had been severed in twain; an enormous fragment had been detached and launched into space!

The fragment included Ceuta and Gibraltar, with the two English garrisons!

HAT would be the consequences of this sudden and complete disruption, Servadac and his people hardly dared to think.

The first change that came under their observation was the rapidity of the sun's appearances and disappearances, forcing them to the conviction that although the comet still rotated on its axis from east to west, yet the period of its rotation had been diminished by about one-half. Only six hours instead of twelve elapsed between sunrise and sunrise; three hours after rising in the west the sun was sinking again in the east.

"We are coming to something!" exclaimed Servadac "We have got a year of something like 2,880 days."

"I shouldn't think it would be an easy matter to find saints enough for such a calendar as that!" said Ben Zoof.

Servadac laughed, and remarked that they should have the professor talking about the 230th of June, and the 234th of December.

It soon became evident that the detached portion was not revolving round the comet, but was gradually retreating into space. Whether it had carried with it any portion of atmosphere, whether it possessed any other condition for supporting life, and whether it was likely ever again to approach to the earth, were all questions that were beyond means to determine. For themselves the all-important problem was—what effect would the rending assunder of the comet have upon its rate of progress? and as they were already conscious of a further increase of muscular power, and a fresh diminution of specific gravity, Servadac and his associates could not but wonder whether the alteration in the mass of the comet would not result in its missing the expected coincidence with the earth altogether.

Although he professed himself incompetent to pronounce a decided opinion, Lieutenant Procope manifestly inclined to the belief that no alteration would ensue in the rate of Gallia's velocity; but Rosette, no doubt, could answer the question directly, and the time had now arrived in which he must be compelled to divulge the precise moment of collision.

But the professor was in the worst of tempers. Generally taciturn and morose, he was more than usually uncivil whenever any one ventured to speak to him. The loss of his telescope had doubtless a great deal to do with his ill-humor; but the captain drew the most favorable conclusions from Rosette's continued irritation. Had the comet been in any way projected from its course, so as to be likely to fail in coming into contact with the earth, the professor would have been quite unable to conceal his satisfaction. But they required to know more than the general truth, and felt that they had no time to lose in getting at the exact details.

The desired opportunity soon came.

On the 18th, Rosette was overheard in furious altercation with Ben Zoof. The orderly had been taunting the astronomer with the mutilation of his little comet. A fine thing, he said, to split in two like a child's toy. It had cracked like a dry nut; and mightn't one as well live upon an exploding bomb?—with much more to the same effect. The professor, by way of retaliation, had commenced sneering at the "prodigious" mountain of Montmartre, and the dispute was beginning to look serious when Servadac entered.

Thinking he could turn the wrangling to some good account, so as to arrive at the information he was so anxiously seeking, the captain pretended to espouse the views of his orderly; he consequently brought upon himself the full force of the professor's wrath.

Rosette's language became more and more violent, till Servadac, feigning to be provoked beyond endurance, cried:

"You forget, sir, that you are addressing the Governor-General of Gallia."

"Governor-General! humbug!" roared Rosette. "Gallia is my comet!"

"I deny it," said Servadac. "Gallia has lost its chance of getting back to the earth. Gallia has nothing to do with you. Gallia is mine; and you must submit to the government which I please to ordain."

"And who told you that Gallia is not going back to the earth?" asked the professor, with a look of withering scorn.

"Why, isn't her mass diminished? Isn't she split


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1886. leave of the High Court or some judge thereof, and satisfies the court or judge that such legal proceeding is not an abuse of the process of the court, and that there is prims facie ground for such proceeding. A copy of such order shall be published in the London Gazette.

2.—(1.) This Act shall not extend to Scotland or Ireland. (2.) This Act may be cited as the Vexatious Actions Act, 1896.

E it enacted by the Queen's most Excellent Majesty, by and with the advice and consent of the Lords Spiritual and Temporal, and Commons, in this present Parliament assembled, and by the authority of the same, as follows:

1.—(1.) If any person without lawful excuse receives, or has in Punishment his possession, any property stolen outside the United Kingdom,knowing such property to have been stolen, he shall be liable to penal servitude for any term not less than three years and not more than seven years, or to imprisonment for a term not exceeding two years, with or without hard labour, and may be indicted in any county or place in which he has, or has had, the property.

(2.) For the purposes of this section property shall be deemed to have been stolen where it has been taken, extorted, obtained, embezzled, converted, or disposed of, under such circumstances that, if the act had been committed in the United Kingdom, the person committing it would have been guilty of an indictable offence according to the law for the time being of the United Kingdom.

(3.) An offence under this section shall be a felony or misdemeanor according as the act committed outside the United Kingdom would have been a felony or misdemeanor if committed in England or Ireland.

(4.) This section shall be construed and have effect as part of the Larceny Act, 1861.

2. This Act may be cited as the Larceny Act, 1896, and the Larceny Act, 1861, and this Act may be cited together as the Larceny Acts, 1861 and 1896.


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188 in half? Isn't her velocity all altered?" demanded the captain.

"And pray who told you this?" again said the professor, with a sneer.

"Everybody. Everybody knows it, of course," replied Servadac.

"Everybody is very clever. And you always were a very clever scholar too. We remember that of old, don't we?"

"Sir!"

"You nearly mastered the first elements of science, didn't you?"

"Sir!"

"A credit to your class!"

"Hold your tongue, sir!" bellowed the captain again, as if his anger was uncontrollable.

"Not I," said the professor.

"Hold your tongue!" repeated Servadac.

"Just because the mass is altered you think the velocity is altered?"

"Hold you tongue!" cried the captain, louder than ever.

"What has mass to do with the orbit? Of how many comets do you know the mass, and yet you know their movements? Ignorance!" shouted Rosette.

"Insolence!" retorted Servadac.

Ben Zoof, really thinking that his master was angry, made a threatening movement towards the professor.

"Touch me if you dare!" screamed Rosette, drawing himself up to the fullest height his diminutive figure would allow. "You shall answer for your conduct before a court of justice!"

"Where? On Gallia?" asked the captain.

"No; on the earth."

"The earth! Pshaw! You know we shall never get there; our velocity is changed."

"On the earth," repeated the professor, with decision.

"Trash!" cried Ben Zoof. "The earth will be too far off!"

"Not too far off for us to come across her orbit at 42 minutes and 35.6 seconds past two o'clock on the morning of this coming 1st of January."

"Thanks, my dear professor—many thanks. You have given me all the information I required;" and, with a low bow and a gracious smile, the captain withdrew. The orderly made an equally polite bow, and followed his master. The professor, completely nonplussed, was left alone.

Thirteen days, then—twenty-six of the original Gallian days, fifty-two of the present—was all the time for preparation that now remained. Every preliminary arrangement was hurried on with the greatest earnestness.

There was a general eagerness to be quit of Gallia. Indifferent to the dangers that must necessarily attend a balloon ascent under such unparalleled circumstances, and heedless of Lieutenant Procope's warning that the slightest check in their progress would result in instantaneous combustion, they all seemed to conclude that it must be the simplest thing possible to glide from one atmosphere to another, so that they were quite sanguine as to the successful issue of their enterprise. Captain Servadac made a point of showing himself quite enthusiastic in his anticipations, and to Ben Zoof the going up in a baloonballoon [sic] was the supreme height of his ambition. The count and the lieutenant, of colder and less demonstrative temperament, alike seemed to realize the possible perils of the undertaking, but even they were determined to put a bold face upon every difficulty.

The sea had now become navigable, and three voyages were made to Gourbi Island in the steam launch, consuming the last of their little reserve of coal.

The first voyage had been made by Servadac with serveral of the sailors. They found the gourbi and the adjacent building quite uninjured by the severity of the winter weather; numbers of little rivulets intersected the pasture-land! new plants were springing up under the influence of the equatorial sun, and the luxuriant foliage was tenanted by the birds which had flown back from the volcano. Summer had almost abruptly succeeded to winter, and the days, though only three hours long, were intensely hot.

Another of the voyages to the island had been to collect the dry grass and straw which was necessary for inflating the balloon. Had the balloon been less cumbersome it would have been conveyed to the island, whence the start would have been effected; but as it was, it was more convenient to bring the combustible material to the balloon.

The last of the coal having been consumed, the fragments of the shipwrecked vessels had to be used day by day for fuel. Hakkabut began making a great hubbub when he found that they were burning some of the spars of the Hansa; but he was effectually silenced by Ben Zoof, who told him that if he made any more fuss, he should be compelled to pay 50,000 francs for a balloon-ticket, or else he should be left behind.

By Christmas Day everything was in readiness for immediate departure. The festival was observed with a solemnity still more marked than the anniversary of the preceding year. Every one looked forward to spending New Year's Day in another sphere altogether, and Ben Zoof had already promised Pablo and Nina all sorts of New Year's gifts.

It may seem strange, but the nearer the critical moment approached, the less Hector Servadac and Count Timascheff had to say to each other on the subject. Their mutual reserve became more apparent; the experiences of the last two years were fading from their minds like a dream; and the fair image that had been the cause of their original rivalry was ever rising, as a vision, between them.

The captain's thoughts began to turn to his unfinished rondo; in his leisure moments, rhymes suitable and unsuitable, possible and impossible, were perpetually jingling in his imagination. He labored under the conviction that he had a work of genius to complete. A poet he had left the earth, and a poet he must return.

Count Timascheff's desire to return to the world was quite equaled by Lieutenant Procope's. The Russian sailors' only thought was to follow their master, wherever he went. The Spaniards, though they would have been unconcerned to know that they were to remain upon Gallia, were nevertheless looking forward with some degree of pleasure to revisiting the plains of Andalusia; and Nina and Pablo were only too delighted at the prospect of accompanying their kind protectors on any fresh excursion whatever.


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A.D. 1896.] xliv. An Act to enable the Mayor Aldermen and Burgesses of the Borough of King's Lynn to cover over a portion of the Mill Fleet and with the consent of the Commissioners of Sewers for the County of Norfolk to use the Middleton Stop Drain as storm overflows and to raise additional moneys and for other purposes. (King's Lynn Corporation.)

xlv. An Act for the creation of New Preferred and Deferred Converted Ordinary Shares of William Hancock and Company Limited and for other purposes. (William Hancock and Company Limited (Further Capital).)

xlvi. An Act for incorporating the Cawood Wistow and Selby Light Railway Company and for other purposes. (Cawood Wistow and Selby Light Railway.)

xlvii. An Act to authorise the Newport Godshill and St. Lawrence Railway Company to further improve and extend their Railway towards Ventnor and for other purposes. (Newport Godshill and St. Lawrence Railway.)

xlviii. An Act to amend Section 61 of the Leeds Hydraulic Power Act 1886. (Leeds Hydraulic Power.)

xlix. An Act to extend the time limited by the Padiham Local Board Act 1889 for the construction of certain works thereby authorised. (Padiham Urban District Council (Water).)

l. An Act to empower the Corporation of the Borough of South Shields to apply for an increase of Aldermen and Councillors to construct Street Tramway Quay and other works to make better provision for the health and good government of the Borough and for other purposes. (South Shields Corporation.)

li. An Act to enable the London County Council to work their Tramways and for other purposes. (London County Tramways.)

lii. An Act to empower the Corporation of Barnsley to obtain Water from Hagg Brook and other tributaries of the River Porter or Little Don in the Township of Bradfield for the supply of the Borough of Barnsley and other places and to borrow further Money to extend their Limits of Water Supply and for other purposes. (Barnsley Corporation (Water).)

liii. An Act to extend the Agreement scheduled to the Sheffield Tramways Act 1872 and to authorise the winding up voluntarily of the Sheffield Tramways Company. (Sheffield Tramways.)

liv. An Act to authorise the Company of Proprietors of Lambeth Waterworks to execute further works and to raise further money and for other purposes (Lambeth Waterworks.)

lv. An Act to transfer to and vest in the Urban District Council of the Urban District of Brixham in the County of Devon the undertaking of the Commissioners for improving


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462 the Harbour and Market of Brixham to dissolve those Commissioners and for other purposes. (Brixham Harbour and Market.)

lvi. An Act to authorise the Mersey Railway Company to work the Traffic on their Railways by Electrical or other Motive Power and for other purposes. (Mersey Railway.)

lvii. An Act for authorising the Bexhill Water and Gas Company to acquire additional Lands and to raise further Capital and for other purposes. (Bexhill Water and Gas.)

lviii. An Act for incorporating and conferring powers on the Colwyn Bay and District Gas Company. (Golwyn Bay and District Gas.)

lix. An Act to empower the Roxburgh Berwick and Selkirk District Board of Lunacy to construct Waterworks for the supply of water to their Asylum to make provision for the cost of such works and for other purposes. (Roxburgh Berwick and Selkirk District Board of Lunacy (Water Supply).)

lx. An Act for incorporating and conferring powers on the Cowes Gas Company. (Cowes Gas.)

lxi. An Act to provide an additional supply of Water to the Burgh of Falkirk and districts and places adjacent and for the construction and maintenance of new and additional Waterworks to confer further powers on the Falkirk and Larbert Water Trustees and for other purposes. (Falkirk and District Water (Additional Supply).)

lxii. An Act for making a Railway from Stroud to Painswick to be called the Stroud and Painswick (light) Railway and for other purposes. (Stroud and Paiifiswick {Light) Railway.)

lxiii. An Act for conferring on the Corporation of the borough of Stafford further sanitary and other powers. (Stafford Corporation.)

lxiv. An Act to confer further powers upon the Mayor Aldermen and Citizens of the City of Manchester in the County of Lancaster with respect to Street Improvements and other works and the acquisition of Lands to provide for the transfer of the Monsall Hospital to the Corporation and for extending the limits for the Supply of Water by the Corporation and for other purposes. (Manchester Corporation.)

lxv. An Act to empower the Mayor Aldermen and Citizens of the City of Leeds to construct additional Tramways and for other purposes. (Leeds Corporation Tramways.)

lxvi. An Act for making a Light Railway between Salehurst in the county of Sussex and Tenterden in the county of Kent and for other purposes. {Rother Valley {Light) Railway.)

lxvii. An Act to authorise the Mayor Aldermen and Burgesses of the county borough of Huddersfield to construct additional Waterworks and for other purposes. (Huddersfield Waterworks.)


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Rh The only malcontent was Palyrin Rosette. Day and night he persevered in his astronomical pursuits, declared his intentoinintention [sic] of never abandoning his comet, and swore positively that nothing should induce him to set foot in the car of the balloon.

The misfortune that had befallen his telescope was a never-ending theme of complaint; and just now, when Gallia was entering the narrow zone of shooting-stars, and new discoveries might have been within his reach, his loss made him more inconsolable than ever. In sheer desperation, he endeavored to increase the intensity of his vision by applying to his eyes some belladonna which he found in the Dobryna's medicine chest; with heroic fortitude he endured the tortures of the experiment, and gazed up into the sky until he was nearly blind. But all in vain; not a single fresh discovery rewarded his sufferings.

No one was quite exempt from the feverish excitement which prevailed during the last days of December. Lieutenant Procope superintended his final arrangements. The two lower masts of the schooner had been erected firmly on the shore, and formed supports for the balloon, which had been duly covered with the netting, and was ready at any moment to be inflated. The car was close at hand. Some inflated skins had been attached to its sides, so that the balloon might float for a time, in the event of its descending in the sea at a short distance from the shore. If unfortunately, it should come down in mid-ocean, nothing but the happy chance of some passing vessel could save them all from the certain fate of being drowned.

The 31st came. Twenty-four hours hence and the balloon, with its large living freight, would be high in the air. The atmosphere was less buoyant than that of the earth, but no difficulty in ascending was to be apprehended.

Gallia was now within 96,000,000 miles of the sun, consequently not much more than 4,000,000 miles from the earth; and this interval was being diminished at the rate of nearly 208,000 miles an hour, the speed of the earth being about 70,000 miles, that of the comet being little less than 138,000 miles an hour.

It was determined to make the start at two o'clock, three-quarters of an hour, or, to speak correctly 42 minutes 35.6 seconds, before the time predicted by the professor as the instant of collision. The modified rotation of the comet caused it to be daylight at the time.

An hour previously the balloon was inflated with perfect success, and the car was securely attached to the network. It only awaited the stowage of the passengers.

Isaac Hakkabut was the first to take his place in the car. But scarcely had he done so, when Servadac noticed that his waist was encompassed by an enormous girdle that bulged out to a very extraordinary extent. "What's all this, Hakkabut?" he asked.

"It's only my little bit of money, your Excellency; my modest little fortune—a mere bagatelle," said the Jew.

"And what may your little fortune weigh?" inquired the captain.

"Only about sixty-six pounds!" said Isaac.

"Sixty-six pounds!" cried Servadac. "We haven't reckoned for this."

"Merciful heavens!" began the Jew.

"Sixty-six pounds !" repeated Servadac. "We can hardly carry ourselves; we can't have any dead weight here. Pitch it out, man, pitch it out!"

"God of Israel!" whined Hakkabut.

"Out with it, I say!" cried Servadac.

"What, all my money, which I have saved so long, and toiled for so hard?"

"It can't be helped," said the captain, unmoved.

"Oh, your Excellency!" cried the Jew.

"Now, old Nicodemus, listen to me," interposed Ben Zoof; "You just get rid of that pouch of yours, or we will get rid of you. Take your choice. Quick, or out you go!"

The avaricious old man was found to value his life above his money; he made a lamentable outcry about it, but he unfastened his girdle at last, and put it out of the car.

Very different was the case with Palmyrin Rosette. He avowed over and over again his intention of never quitting the nucleus of his comet. Why should he trust himself to a balloon, that would blaze up like a piece of paper? Why should he leave the comet? Why should he not go once again upon its surface into the far-off realms of space?

His volubility was brought to a sudden check by Servadac's bidding two of the sailors, without more ado, to take him in their arms and put him quietly down at the bottom of the car.

To the great regret of their owners, the two horses and Nina's pet goat were obliged to be left behind. The only creature for which there was found a place was the carrier-pigeon that had brought the professor's message to the Hive. Servadac thought it might probably be of service in carrying some communication to the earth.

When every one, except the captain and his orderly, had taken their places, Servadac said, "Get in, Ben Zoof."

"After you, sir," said Ben Zoof, respectfully.

"No, no!" insisted Servadac; "the captain must be the last to leave the ship!"

A moment's hesitation and the orderly clambered over the side of the car. Servadac followed. The cords were cut. The balloon rose with stately calmness into the air.

HEN the balloon had reached an elevation of about 2,500 yards, Lieutenant Procope determined to maintain it at that level. A wirework stove, suspended below the casing, and filled with lighted hay, served to keep the air in the interior at a proper temperature.

Beneath their feet was extended the basin of the Gallian Sea. An inconsiderable speck to the north marked the site of Gourbi Island. Ceuta and Gibraltar, which might have been expected in the west, had utterly disappeared. On the south rose the volcano, the extremity of the promontory that jutted out from the continent that formed the framework of the sea; whilst in every direction the strange soil, with its commixture of tellurium and gold, gleamed under the sun's rays with a perpetual iridescence.

Apparently rising with them in their accent, the horizon was well-defined. The sky above them was


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A.D. 1896.] lxviii. An Act to empower the District Committee of the Middle Ward of the County of Lanark to abandon certain Works authorised by the Lanarkshire (Middle Ward District) Water Act 1892 and to construct additional Waterworks to amend the provisions of that Act to authorise and require the County Council of the County of Lanark to levy Assessments and to borrow Money and for other purposes. (Lanarkshire (Middle Ward District) Water.)

lxix. An Act for transferring to the Great Southern and Western Railway Company the powers of the Drumcondra and North Dublin link Railway Company incorporated by the Drumcondra and North Dublin Link Railway Act 1894 to empower the Great Southern and Western Railway Company to abandon the construction of Railway No. 2 authorised by that Act and to construct another Railway in lieu thereof to stop up certain Streets and Roads to enter into Agreements with other Companies and for other purposes. {Great Southern and Western Railway.)

lxx. An Act for empowering the Cambrian Railways Company to make approach roads to certain of their Stations to acquire additional Lands to raise further Money for those purposes and also for doubling and improving their Line and for other purposes. (Cambrian Railways.)

lxxi. An Act for authorising the Ystradyfodwg Urban District-Council to acquire the Gas and Water Undertakings of the Ystrad Gas and Water Company to construct Waterworks and for other purposes. (Ystradyfodwg Urban District Council (Gas and Water).)

lxxii An Act to extend the District of the Malvern link Urban District Council to authorise the Urban District Council of the extended District to construct Waterworks for the supply thereof and for other purposes. (Malvern Link (Extension and Water).)

lxiii. An Act to authorise the Governor and Company of Chelsea Waterworks to lay down a New Main from West Molesey to Surbiton to construct an additional Filter Bed and other Works at Surbiton and to raise further money by debenture stock and to confer further powers upon them. (Chelsea Waterworks.)

lxxiv. An Act to confirm certain Provisional Orders of the Local Government Board relating to the Borough of Bridgwater and to the Counties of Cambridge and Hertford. (''Local Government Board's Provisional Orders Confirmation (No. I).'')

P.lxxv. An Act to confirm certain Provisional Orders of the Local Government Board relating to the Counties of Devon Dorset Gloucester Somerset Warwick Wilts and Worcester. (''Local Government Board's Provisional Orders Confirmation (No. 3).'')

P. lxxvi. An Act to confirm certain Provisional Orders of the Local Government Board relating to the City of Oxford and the


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464 Parish of Whitechapel. (Local Government Boards Provisional Orders Confirmation (Poor Law) (No. 2).)

P. lxxvii. An Act to confirm a Provisional Order under the Public Health (Scotland) Act 1867 and any Acts amending the same relating to Bonnybridge Dennyloanhead Parkfoot Longcroft Haggs and Holllandbush Water. (Bonnybridge &c. Water Order Confirmation.)

P. lxxviii. An Act to confirm a Provisional Order made by the Board of Trade under the Railway and Canal Traffic Act 1888 containing the Class16cation of Merchandise Traffic and the Schedule of Maximum Rates Tolls and Charges applicable thereto for the Strabane Canal. (Canal Rates Tolls and Charges {Strabane Canal) Order Confirmation.)

P. lxxix. An Act to confirm a Provisional Order made by the Board of Trade under the Railway and Canal Traffic Act 1888 containing the Classification of Merchandise Traffic and the Schedule of Maximum Tolls and Charges applicable thereto for the Caledonian and Crinan Canals. (Canal Tells and Charges (Caledonian and Crinan Canals) Order Confirmation.)

P. lxxx. An Act to confirm a Provisional Order made by the Board of Trade under the Railway and Canal Traffic Act 1888 containing the Classification of Merchandise Traffic and the Schedule of Maximum Tolls and Charges applicable thereto for the Canals of the Burwell Fen Drainage and Navigation Commissioners and certain other Canals. (Canal Tolls and Charges (Burwell Fen &c.)Order Confirmation.)

P. lxxxi. An Act to confirm a Provisional Order made by one of Her Majesty's Principal Secretaries of State under the Metropolitan Police Act 1886 relating to lands in the Parishes of St. John the Evangelist Westminster and All Saints Poplar. (Metropolitan Police Provision Order Confirmation.)

P. lxxxii. An Act to confirm certain Provisional Orders made by the Board of Trade under the Electric Lighting Acts 1882 and 1888 relating to Cowes Folkestone Gloucester Huddersfield King's Lynn Manchester and Wells. (Electric Lighting . Orders Confirmation (No, 1).)

P. lxxxiii. An Act to confirm certain Provisional Orders made by the Board of Trade under the Electric Lighting Acts 1882 and 1888 relating to Colwyn Bay and Colwyn Devonport Godalming Kettering Kingstown and Middleton. (Electric Lighting Orders Confirmation {No. 2).)

P. lxxxiv. An Act to confirm certain Provisional Orders made by the Board of Trade under the Electric Lighting Acts 1882 and 1888 relating to Ashton-on-Mersey and Bucklow and Keswick. (''Electric Lighting Orders Confirmation (No. 6).'')

P. lxxxv. An Act to confirm two Provisional Orders made by the Local Government Board for Ireland under the Public Health (Ireland) Act 1878 relating to the Urban Sanitary Districts of Londonderry and Ballinasloe. (Local Government Board (Ireland) Provisional Orders Confirmation {No. 3).)