Scene, the same. Time, the following evening, about seven o'clock. The table is half laid, with a large cup and saucer, plate, etc., ready for Holroyd's dinner, which, like all miners, he has when he comes home between four and five o'clock. On the other half of the table Mrs. Holroyd is ironing. On the hearth stands newly baked loaves of bread. The irons hang at the fire.
Jack, with a bowler hat hanging at the back of his head, parades up to the sofa, on which stands Minnie engaged in dusting a picture. She has a soiled white apron tied behind her, to make a long skirt.
JACK
Good mornin', missis. Any scissors or knives to grind?
MINNIE (peering down from the sofa)
Oh, I can't be bothered to come downstairs. Call another day.
JACK
I shan't.
MINNIE (keeping up her part)
Well, I can't come down now. (Jack stands irresolute) Go on, you have to go and steal the baby.
JACK
I'm not.
[63]
MINNIE
Well, you can steal the eggs out of the fowl-house.
JACK
I'm not.
MINNIE
Then I shan't play with you. (Jack takes off his bowler hat and flings it on the sofa; tears come in Minnie's eyes) Now I'm not friends. (She surveys him ruefully; after a few moments of silence she clambers down and goes to her mother) Mam, he won't play with me.
MRS. HOLROYD (crossly)
Why don't you play with her? If you begin bothering, you must go to bed.
JACK
Well, I don't want to play.
MRS. HOLROYD
Then you must go to bed.
JACK
I don't want to.
MRS. HOLROYD
Then what do you want, I should like to know?
MINNIE
I wish my father'd come.
JACK
I do.
MRS. HOLROYD
I suppose he thinks he's paying me out. This is the third time this week he's slunk past the door and gone down to Old Brinsley instead of coming in to his dinner. He'll be as drunk as a lord when he does come.
[The children look at her plaintively.
[64]
MINNIE
Isn't he a nuisance?
JACK
I hate him. I wish he'd drop down th' pit-shaft.
MRS. HOLROYD
Jack!—I never heard such a thing in my life! You mustn't say such things—it's wicked.
JACK
Well, I do.
MRS. HOLROYD (loudly)
I won't have it. He's your father, remember.
JACK (in a high voice)
Well, he's always comin' home an' shoutin' an' bangin' on the table. (He is getting tearful and defiant)
MRS. HOLROYD
Well, you mustn't take any notice of him.
MINNIE (wistfully)
'Appen if you said something nice to him, mother, he'd happen go to bed, and not shout.
JACK
I'd hit him in the mouth.
MRS. HOLROYD
Perhaps we'll go to another country, away from him—should we?
JACK
In a ship, mother?
MINNIE
In a ship, mam?
MRS. HOLROYD
Yes, in a big ship, where it's blue sky, and water and palm-trees, and—
[65]
MINNIE
An' dates—?
JACK
When should we go?
MRS. HOLROYD
Some day.
MINNIE
But who'd work for us? Who should we have for father?
JACK
You don't want a father. I can go to work for us.
MRS. HOLROYD
I've got a lot of money now, that your uncle left me.
MINNIE (after a general thoughtful silence)
An' would my father stop here?
MRS. HOLROYD
Oh, he'd be all right.
MINNIE
But who would he live with?
MRS. HOLROYD
I don't know—one of his paper bonnets, if he likes.
MINNIE
Then she could have her old bracelet back, couldn't she?
MRS. HOLROYD
Yes—there it is on the candlestick, waiting for her.
[There is a sound of footsteps—then a knock at the door. The children start.
MINNIE (in relief)
Here he is.
[Mrs. Holroyd goes to the door. Blackmore enters.
[66]
BLACKMORE
It is foggy to-night—Hello, aren't you youngsters gone to bed?
MINNIE
No, my father's not come home yet.
BLACKMORE (turning to Mrs. Holroyd)
Did he go to work then, after last night?
MRS. HOLROYD
I suppose so. His pit things were gone when I got up. I never thought he'd go.
BLACKMORE
And he took his snap as usual?
MRS. HOLROYD
Yes, just as usual. I suppose he's gone to the New Inn. He'd say to himself he'd pay me out. That's what he always does say, "I'll pay thee out for that bit—I'll ma'e thee regret it."
JACK
We're going to leave him.
BLACKMORE
So you think he's at the New Inn?
MRS. HOLROYD
I'm sure he is—and he'll come when he's full. He'll have a bout now, you'll see.
MINNIE
Go and fetch him, Mr. Blackmore.
JACK
My mother says we shall go in a ship and leave him.
BLACKMORE (after looking keenly at Jack: to Mrs. Holroyd) Shall I go and see if he's at the New Inn?
MRS. HOLROYD
No—perhaps you'd better not—
[67]
BLACKMORE
Oh, he shan't see me. I can easily manage that.
JACK
Fetch him, Mr. Blackmore.
BLACKMORE
All right, Jack. (To Mrs. Holroyd) Shall I?
MRS. HOLROYD
We're always pulling on you—But yes, do!
[Blackmore goes out.
JACK
I wonder how long he'll be.
MRS. HOLROYD
You come and go to bed now: you'd better be out of the way when he comes in.
MINNIE
And you won't say anything to him, mother, will you?
MRS. HOLROYD
What do you mean?
MINNIE
You won't begin of him—row him.
MRS. HOLROYD
Is he to have all his own way? What would he be like, if I didn't row him?
JACK
But it doesn't matter, mother, if we're going to leave him—
MINNIE
But Mr. Blackmore'll come back, won't he, mam, and dad won't shout before him?
MRS. HOLROYD (beginning to undress the children)
Yes, he'll come back.
[68]
MINNIE
Mam—could I have that bracelet to go to bed with?
MRS. HOLROYD
Come and say your prayers.
[They kneel, muttering in their mother's apron.
MINNIE (suddenly lifting her head)
Can I, mam?
MRS. HOLROYD (trying to be stern)
Have you finished your prayers?
MINNIE
Yes.
MRS. HOLROYD
If you want it—beastly thing! (She reaches the bracelet down from the mantelpiece) Your father must have put it up there—I don't know where I left it. I suppose he'd think I was proud of it and wanted it for an ornament.
[Minnie gloats over it. Mrs. Holroyd lights a candle and they go upstairs. After a few moments the outer door opens, and there enters an old woman. She is of middling stature and wears a large gray shawl over her head. After glancing sharply round the room, she advances to the fire, warms herself, then, taking off her shawl, sits in the rocking-chair. As she hears Mrs. Holroyd's footsteps, she folds her hands and puts on a lachrymose expression, turning down the corners of her mouth and arching her eyebrows.
MRS. HOLROYD
Hello, mother, is it you?
GRANDMOTHER
Yes, it's me. Haven't you finished ironing?
MRS. HOLROYD
Not yet.
[69]
GRANDMOTHER
You'll have your irons red-hot.
MRS. HOLROYD
Yes, I s'll have to stand them to cool. (She does so, and moves about at her ironing)
GRANDMOTHER
And you don't know what's become of Charles?
MRS. HOLROYD
Well, he's not come home from work yet. I supposed he was at the New Inn—Why?
GRANDMOTHER
That young electrician come knocking asking if I knew where he was. "Eh," I said, "I've not set eyes on him for over a week—nor his wife neither, though they pass th' garden gate every time they go out. I know nowt on 'im." I axed him what was the matter, so he said Mrs. Holroyd was anxious because he'd not come home, so I thought I'd better come and see. Is there anything up?
MRS. HOLROYD
No more than I've told you.
GRANDMOTHER
It's a rum 'un, if he's neither in the New Inn nor the Prince o' Wales. I suppose something you've done's set him off.
MRS. HOLROYD
It's nothing I've done.
GRANDMOTHER
Eh, if he's gone off and left you, whativer shall we do! Whativer 'ave you been doing?
MRS. HOLROYD
He brought a couple of bright daisies here last night—two[70] of those trollops from Nottingham—and I said I'd not have it.
GRANDMOTHER (sighing deeply)
Ay, you've never been able to agree.
MRS. HOLROYD
We agreed well enough except when he drank like a fish and came home rolling.
GRANDMOTHER (whining)
Well, what can you expect of a man as 'as been shut up i' th' pit all day? He must have a bit of relaxation.
MRS. HOLROYD
He can have it different from that, then. At any rate, I'm sick of it.
GRANDMOTHER
Ay, you've a stiff neck, but it'll be bowed by you're my age.
MRS. HOLROYD
Will it? I'd rather it were broke.
GRANDMOTHER
Well—there's no telling what a jealous man will do. (She shakes her head)
MRS. HOLROYD
Nay, I think it's my place to be jealous, when he brings a brazen hussy here and sits carryin' on with her.
GRANDMOTHER
He'd no business to do that. But you know, Lizzie, he's got something on his side.
MRS. HOLROYD
What, pray?
GRANDMOTHER
Well, I don't want to make any mischief, but you're[71] my son's wife, an' it's nothing but my duty to tell you. They've been saying a long time now as that young electrician is here a bit too often.
MRS. HOLROYD
He doesn't come for my asking.
GRANDMOTHER
No, I don't suppose he wants for asking. But Charlie's not the man to put up with that sort o' work.
MRS. HOLROYD
Charlie put up with it! If he's anything to say, why doesn't he say it, without going to other folks ...?
GRANDMOTHER
Charlie's never been near me with a word—nor 'as he said a word elsewhere to my knowledge. For all that, this is going to end with trouble.
MRS. HOLROYD
In this hole, every gossiping creature thinks she's got the right to cackle about you—sickening! And a parcel of lies.
GRANDMOTHER
Well, Lizzie, I've never said anything against you. Charlie's been a handful of trouble. He made my heart ache once or twice afore you had him, and he's made it ache many, many's the time since. But it's not all on his side, you know.
MRS. HOLROYD (hotly)
No, I don't know.
GRANDMOTHER
You thought yourself above him, Lizzie, an' you know he's not the man to stand it.
MRS. HOLROYD
No, he's run away from it.
[72]
GRANDMOTHER (venomously)
And what man wouldn't leave a woman that allowed him to live on sufferance in the house with her, when he was bringing the money home?
MRS. HOLROYD
"Sufferance!"—Yes, there's been a lot of letting him live on "sufferance" in the house with me. It is I who have lived on sufferance, for his service and pleasure. No, what he wanted was the drink and the public house company, and because he couldn't get them here, he went out for them. That's all.
GRANDMOTHER
You have always been very clever at hitting things off, Lizzie. I was always sorry my youngest son married a clever woman. He only wanted a bit of coaxing and managing, and you clever women won't do it.
MRS. HOLROYD
He wanted a slave, not a wife.
GRANDMOTHER
It's a pity your stomach wasn't too high for him, before you had him. But no, you could have eaten him ravishing at one time.
MRS. HOLROYD
It's a pity you didn't tell me what he was before I had him. But no, he was all angel. You left me to find out what he really was.
GRANDMOTHER
Some women could have lived with him happy enough. An' a fat lot you'd have thanked me for my telling.
[There is a knock at the door. Mrs. Holroyd opens.
RIGLEY
They tell me, missus, as your mester's not hoom yet.
[73]
MRS. HOLROYD
No—who is it?
GRANDMOTHER
Ask him to step inside. Don't stan' there lettin' the fog in.
[Rigley steps in. He is a tall, bony, very roughly hewn collier.
RIGLEY
Good evenin'.
GRANDMOTHER
Oh, is it you, Mr. Rigley? (In a querulous, spiteful tone to Mrs. Holroyd) He butties along with Charlie.
MRS. HOLROYD
Oh!
RIGLEY
An' han yer seen nowt on 'im?
MRS. HOLROYD
No—was he all right at work?
RIGLEY
Well, 'e wor nowt to mention. A bit short, like: 'adna much to say. I canna ma'e out what 'e's done wi' 'issen. (He is manifestly uneasy, does not look at the two women)
GRANDMOTHER
An' did 'e come up i' th' same bantle wi' you?
RIGLEY
No—'e didna. As Ah was comin' out o' th' stall, Ah shouted, "Art comin', Charlie? We're a' off." An' 'e said, "Ah'm comin' in a minute." 'E wor just finishin' a stint, like, an' 'e wanted ter get it set. An' 'e'd been a bit roughish in 'is temper, like, so I thöwt 'e didna want ter walk to th' bottom wi' us....
[74]
GRANDMOTHER (wailing)
An' what's 'e gone an' done to himself?
RIGLEY
Nay, missis, yo munna ax me that. 'E's non done owt as Ah know on. On'y I wor thinkin', 'appen summat 'ad 'appened to 'im, like, seein' as nob'dy had any knowings of 'im comin' up.
MRS. HOLROYD
What is the matter, Mr. Rigley? Tell us it out.
RIGLEY
I canna do that, missis. It seems as if 'e niver come up th' pit—as far as we can make out. 'Appen a bit o' stuff's fell an' pinned 'im.
GRANDMOTHER (wailing)
An' 'ave you left 'im lying down there in the pit, poor thing?
RIGLEY (uneasily)
I couldna say for certain where 'e is.
MRS. HOLROYD (agitated)
Oh, it's very likely not very bad, mother! Don't let us run to meet trouble.
RIGLEY
We 'ave to 'ope for th' best, missis, all on us.
GRANDMOTHER (wailing)
Eh, they'll bring 'im 'ome, I know they will, smashed up an' broke! An' one of my sons they've burned down pit till the flesh dropped off 'im, an' one was shot till 'is shoulder was all of a mosh, an' they brought 'em 'ome to me. An' now there's this....
MRS. HOLROYD (shuddering)
Oh, don't, mother. (Appealingly to Rigley) You don't know that he's hurt?
[75]
RIGLEY (shaking his head)
I canna tell you.
MRS. HOLROYD (in a high hysterical voice)
Then what is it?
RIGLEY (very uneasy)
I canna tell you. But yon young electrician—Mr. Blackmore—'e rung down to the night deputy, an' it seems as though there's been a fall or summat....
GRANDMOTHER
Eh, Lizzie, you parted from him in anger. You little knowed how you'd meet him again.
RIGLEY (making an effort)
Well, I'd 'appen best be goin' to see what's betide. (He goes out)
GRANDMOTHER
I'm sure I've had my share of bad luck, I have. I'm sure I've brought up five lads in the pit, through accidents and troubles, and now there's this. The Lord has treated me very hard, very hard. It's a blessing, Lizzie, as you've got a bit of money, else what would 'ave become of the children?
MRS. HOLROYD
Well, if he's badly hurt, there'll be the Union-pay, and sick-pay—we shall manage. And perhaps it's not very much.
GRANDMOTHER
There's no knowin' but what they'll be carryin' him to die i' th' hospital.
MRS. HOLROYD
Oh, don't say so, mother—it won't be so bad, you'll see.
GRANDMOTHER
How much money have you, Lizzie, comin'?
[76]
MRS. HOLROYD
I don't know—not much over a hundred pounds.
GRANDMOTHER (shaking her head)
An' what's that, what's that?
MRS. HOLROYD (sharply)
Hush!
GRANDMOTHER (crying)
Why, what?
[Mrs. Holroyd opens the door. In the silence can be heard the pulsing of the fan engine, then the driving engine chuffs rapidly: there is a shirr of brakes on the rope as it descends.
MRS. HOLROYD
That's twice they've sent the chair down—I wish we could see.... Hark!
GRANDMOTHER
What is it?
MRS. HOLROYD
Yes—it's stopped at the gate. It's the doctor's.
GRANDMOTHER (coming to the door)
What, Lizzie?
MRS. HOLROYD
The doctor's motor. (She listens acutely) Dare you stop here, mother, while I run up to the top an' see?
GRANDMOTHER
You'd better not go, Lizzie, you'd better not. A woman's best away.
MRS. HOLROYD
It is unbearable to wait.
GRANDMOTHER
Come in an' shut the door—it's a cold that gets in your bones. (She goes in)
[77]
MRS. HOLROYD
Perhaps while he's in bed we shall have time to change him. It's an ill wind brings no good. He'll happen be a better man.
GRANDMOTHER
Well, you can but try. Many a woman's thought the same.
MRS. HOLROYD
Oh, dear, I wish somebody would come. He's never been hurt since we were married.
GRANDMOTHER
No, he's never had a bad accident, all the years he's been in the pit. He's been luckier than most. But everybody has it, sooner or later.
MRS. HOLROYD (shivering)
It is a horrid night.
GRANDMOTHER (querulous)
Yes, come your ways in.
MRS. HOLROYD
Hark!
[There is a quick sound of footsteps. Blackmore comes into the light of the doorway.
BLACKMORE
They're bringing him.
MRS. HOLROYD (quickly putting her hand over her breast) What is it?
BLACKMORE
You can't tell anything's the matter with him—it's not marked him at all.
MRS. HOLROYD
Oh, what a blessing! And is it much?
BLACKMORE
Well—
[78]
MRS. HOLROYD
What is it?
BLACKMORE
It's the worst.
GRANDMOTHER
Who is it?—What does he say?
[Mrs. Holroyd sinks on the nearest chair with a horrified expression. Blackmore pulls himself together and enters. He is very pale.
BLACKMORE
I came to tell you they're bringing him home.
GRANDMOTHER
And you said it wasn't very bad, did you?
BLACKMORE
No—I said it was—as bad as it could be.
MRS. HOLROYD (rising and crossing to her mother-in-law, flings her arms round her; in a high voice) Oh, mother, what shall we do? What shall we do?
GRANDMOTHER
You don't mean to say he's dead?
BLACKMORE
Yes.
GRANDMOTHER (staring)
God help us, and how was it?
BLACKMORE
Some stuff fell.
GRANDMOTHER (rocking herself and her daughter-in-law—both weeping) Oh, God have mercy on us! Oh, God have mercy on us! Some stuff fell on him. An' he'd not even time to cry for mercy; oh, God spare him! Oh, what shall we do for comfort? To be taken straight out of his sins. Oh, Lizzie, to think he should be cut off in his wickedness! He's been[79] a bad lad of late, he has, poor lamb. He's gone very wrong of late years, poor dear lamb, very wrong. Oh, Lizzie, think what's to become of him now! If only you'd have tried to be different with him.
MRS. HOLROYD (moaning)
Don't, mother, don't. I can't bear it.
BLACKMORE (cold and clear)
Where will you have him laid? The men will be here in a moment.
MRS. HOLROYD (starting up)
They can carry him up to bed—
BLACKMORE
It's no good taking him upstairs. You'll have to wash him and lay him out.
MRS. HOLROYD (startled)
Well—
BLACKMORE
He's in his pit-dirt.
GRANDMOTHER
He is, bless him. We'd better have him down here, Lizzie, where we can handle him.
MRS. HOLROYD
Yes.
[She begins to put the tea things away, but drops the sugar out of the basin and the lumps fly broadcast.
BLACKMORE
Never mind, I'll pick those up. You put the children's clothes away.
[Mrs. Holroyd stares witless around. The Grandmother sits rocking herself and weeping. Blackmore clears the table, putting the pots in the scullery.[80] He folds the white tablecloth and pulls back the table. The door opens. Mrs. Holroyd utters a cry. Rigley enters.
RIGLEY
They're bringing him now, missis.
MRS. HOLROYD
Oh!
RIGLEY (simply)
There must ha' been a fall directly after we left him.
MRS. HOLROYD (frowning, horrified)
No—no!
RIGLEY (to Blackmore)
It fell a' back of him, an' shut 'im in as you might shut a loaf i' th' oven. It never touched him.
MRS. HOLROYD (staring distractedly)
Well, then—
RIGLEY
You see, it come on 'im as close as a trap on a mouse, an' gen him no air, an' what wi' th' gas, it smothered him. An' it wouldna be so very long about it neither.
MRS. HOLROYD (quiet with horror)
Oh!
GRANDMOTHER
Eh, dear—dear. Eh, dear—dear.
RIGLEY (looking hard at her)
I wasna to know what 'ud happen.
GRANDMOTHER (not heeding him, but weeping all the time) But the Lord gave him time to repent. He'd have a few minutes to repent. Ay, I hope he did, I hope he did, else what was to become of him. The Lord cut him off in his sins, but He gave him time to repent.
[81]
[Rigley looks away at the wall. Blackmore has made a space in the middle of the floor.
BLACKMORE
If you'll take the rocking-chair off the end of the rug, Mrs. Holroyd, I can pull it back a bit from the fire, and we can lay him on that.
GRANDMOTHER (petulantly)
What's the good of messing about—(She moves)
MRS. HOLROYD
It suffocated him?
RIGLEY (shaking his head, briefly)
Yes. 'Appen th' after-damp—
BLACKMORE
He'd be dead in a few minutes.
MRS. HOLROYD
No—oh, think!
BLACKMORE
You mustn't think.
RIGLEY (suddenly)
They commin'!
[Mrs. Holroyd stands at bay. The Grandmother half rises. Rigley and Blackmore efface themselves as much as possible. A man backs into the room, bearing the feet of the dead man, which are shod in great pit boots. As the head bearer comes awkwardly past the table, the coat with which the body is covered slips off, revealing Holroyd in his pit-dirt, naked to the waist.
MANAGER (a little stout, white-bearded man)
Mind now, mind. Ay, missis, what a job, indeed, it is! (Sharply) Where mun they put him?
MRS. HOLROYD (turning her face aside from the corpse)
Lay him on the rug.
[82]
MANAGER
Steady now, do it steady.
SECOND BEARER (rising and pressing back his shoulders) By Guy, but 'e 'ings heavy.
MANAGER
Yi, Joe, I'll back my life o' that.
GRANDMOTHER
Eh, Mr. Chambers, what's this affliction on my old age. You kept your sons out o' the pit, but all mine's in. And to think of the trouble I've had—to think o' the trouble that's come out of Brinsley pit to me.
MANAGER
It has that, it 'as that, missis. You seem to have had more 'n your share; I'll admit it, you have.
MRS. HOLROYD (who has been staring at the men)
It is too much!
[Blackmore frowns; Rigley glowers at her.
MANAGER
You never knowed such a thing in your life. Here's a man, holin' a stint, just finishin' (He puts himself as if in the holer's position, gesticulating freely) An' a lot o' stuff falls behind him, clean as a whistle, shuts him up safe as a worm in a nut and niver touches him—niver knowed such a thing in your life.
MRS. HOLROYD
Ugh!
MANAGER
It niver hurt him—niver touched him.
MRS. HOLROYD
Yes, but—but how long would he be (she makes a sweeping gesture; the Manager looks at her and will[83] not help her out)—how long would it take—oh—to—to kill him?
MANAGER
Nay, I canna tell ye. 'E didna seem to ha' strived much to get out—did he, Joe?
SECOND BEARER
No, not as far as Ah 'n seen.
FIRST BEARER
You look at 'is 'ands, you'll see then. 'E'd non ha'e room to swing the pick.
[The Manager goes on his knees.
MRS. HOLROYD (shuddering)
Oh, don't!
MANAGER
Ay, th' nails is broken a bit—
MRS. HOLROYD (clenching her fists)
Don't!
MANAGER
'E'd be sure ter ma'e a bit of a fight. But th' gas 'ud soon get hold on 'im. Ay, it's an awful thing to think of, it is indeed.
MRS. HOLROYD (her voice breaking)
I can't bear it!
MANAGER
Eh, dear, we none on us know what's comin' next.
MRS. HOLROYD (getting hysterical)
Oh, it's too awful, it's too awful!
BLACKMORE
You'll disturb the children.
GRANDMOTHER
And you don't want them down here.
MANAGER
'E'd no business to ha' been left, you know.
[84]
RIGLEY
An' what man, dost think, wor goin' to sit him down on his hams an' wait for a chap as wouldna say "thank yer" for his cump'ny? 'E'd bin ready to fall out wi' a flicker o' the candle, so who dost think wor goin' ter stop when we knowed 'e on'y kep on so's to get shut on us.
MANAGER
Tha'rt quite right, Bill, quite right. But theer you are.
RIGLEY
An' if we'd stopped, what good would it ha' done—
MANAGER
No, 'appen not, 'appen not.
RIGLEY
For, not known—
MANAGER
I'm sayin' nowt agen thee, neither one road nor t'other. (There is general silence—then, to Mrs. Holroyd) I should think th' inquest'll be at th' New Inn to-morrow, missis. I'll let you know.
MRS. HOLROYD
Will there have to be an inquest?
MANAGER
Yes—there'll have to be an inquest. Shall you want anybody in, to stop with you to-night?
MRS. HOLROYD
No.
MANAGER
Well, then, we'd best be goin'. I'll send my missis down first thing in the morning. It's a bad job, a bad job, it is. You'll be a' right then?
[85]
MRS. HOLROYD
Yes.
MANAGER
Well, good-night then—good-night all.
ALL
Good-night. Good-night.
[The Manager, followed by the two bearers, goes out, closing the door.
RIGLEY
It's like this, missis. I never should ha' gone, if he hadn't wanted us to.
MRS. HOLROYD
Yes, I know.
RIGLEY
'E wanted to come up by's sen.
MRS. HOLROYD (wearily)
I know how it was, Mr. Rigley.
RIGLEY
Yes—
BLACKMORE
Nobody could foresee.
RIGLEY (shaking his head)
No. If there's owt, missis, as you want—
MRS. HOLROYD
Yes—I think there isn't anything.
RIGLEY (after a moment)
Well—good-night—we've worked i' the same stall ower four years now—
MRS. HOLROYD
Yes.
RIGLEY
Well, good-night, missis.
[86]
MRS. HOLROYD AND BLACKMORE
Good-night.
[The Grandmother all this time has been rocking herself to and fro, moaning and murmuring beside the dead man. When Rigley has gone Mrs. Holroyd stands staring distractedly before her. She has not yet looked at her husband.
GRANDMOTHER
Have you got the things ready, Lizzie?
MRS. HOLROYD
What things?
GRANDMOTHER
To lay the child out.
MRS. HOLROYD (she shudders)
No—what?
GRANDMOTHER
Haven't you put him by a pair o' white stockings, nor a white shirt?
MRS. HOLROYD
He's got a white cricketing shirt—but not white stockings.
GRANDMOTHER
Then he'll have to have his father's. Let me look at the shirt, Lizzie. (Mrs. Holroyd takes one from the dresser drawer) This'll never do—a cold, canvas thing wi' a turn down collar. I s'll 'ave to fetch his father's. (Suddenly) You don't want no other woman to touch him, to wash him and lay him out, do you?
MRS. HOLROYD (weeping)
No.
GRANDMOTHER
Then I'll fetch him his father's gear. We mustn't[87] let him set, he'll be that heavy, bless him. (She takes her shawl) I shan't be more than a few minutes, an' the young fellow can stop here till I come back.
BLACKMORE
Can't I go for you, Mrs. Holroyd?
GRANDMOTHER
No. You couldn't find the things. We'll wash him as soon as I get back, Lizzie.
MRS. HOLROYD
All right.
[She watches her mother-in-law go out. Then she starts, goes in the scullery for a bowl, in which she pours warm water. She takes a flannel and soap and towel. She stands, afraid to go any farther.
BLACKMORE
Well!
MRS. HOLROYD
This is a judgment on us.
BLACKMORE
Why?
MRS. HOLROYD
On me, it is—
BLACKMORE
How?
MRS. HOLROYD
It is.
[Blackmore shakes his head.
MRS. HOLROYD
Yesterday you talked of murdering him.
BLACKMORE
Well!
MRS. HOLROYD
Now we've done it.
[88]
BLACKMORE
How?
MRS. HOLROYD
He'd have come up with the others, if he hadn't felt—felt me murdering him.
BLACKMORE
But we can't help it.
MRS. HOLROYD
It's my fault.
BLACKMORE
Don't be like that!
MRS. HOLROYD (looking at him—then indicating her husband) I daren't see him.
BLACKMORE
No?
MRS. HOLROYD
I've killed him, that is all.
BLACKMORE
No, you haven't.
MRS. HOLROYD
Yes, I have.
BLACKMORE
We couldn't help it.
MRS. HOLROYD
If he hadn't felt, if he hadn't known, he wouldn't have stayed, he'd have come up with the rest.
BLACKMORE
Well, and even if it was so, we can't help it now.
MRS. HOLROYD
But we've killed him.
BLACKMORE
Ah, I'm tired—
[89]
MRS. HOLROYD
Yes.
BLACKMORE (after a pause)
Shall I stay?
MRS. HOLROYD
I—I daren't be alone with him.
BLACKMORE (sitting down)
No.
MRS. HOLROYD
I don't love him. Now he's dead. I don't love him. He lies like he did yesterday.
BLACKMORE
I suppose, being dead—I don't know—
MRS. HOLROYD
I think you'd better go.
BLACKMORE (rising)
Tell me.
MRS. HOLROYD
Yes.
BLACKMORE
You want me to go.
MRS. HOLROYD
No—but do go. (They look at each other)
BLACKMORE
I shall come to-morrow (he goes out)
[Mrs. Holroyd stands very stiff, as if afraid of the dead man. Then she stoops down and begins to sponge his face, talking to him.
MRS. HOLROYD
My dear, my dear—oh, my dear! I can't bear it, my dear—you shouldn't have done it. You shouldn't have done it. Oh—I can't bear it, for you. Why couldn't I do anything for you? The[90] children's father—my dear—I wasn't good to you. But you shouldn't have done this to me. Oh, dear, oh, dear! Did it hurt you?—oh, my dear, it hurt you—oh, I can't bear it. No, things aren't fair—we went wrong, my dear. I never loved you enough—I never did. What a shame for you! It was a shame. But you didn't—you didn't try. I would have loved you—I tried hard. What a shame for you! It was so cruel for you. You couldn't help it—my dear, my dear. You couldn't help it. And I can't do anything for you, and it hurt you so! (She weeps bitterly, so her tears fall on the dead man's face; suddenly she kisses him) My dear, my dear, what can I do for you, what can I? (She weeps as she wipes his face gently)
GRANDMOTHER (enters, puts a bundle on the table, takes off her shawl) You're not all by yourself?
MRS. HOLROYD
Yes.
GRANDMOTHER
It's a wonder you're not frightened. You've not washed his face.
MRS. HOLROYD
Why should I be afraid of him—now, mother?
GRANDMOTHER (weeping)
Ay, poor lamb, I can't think as ever you could have had reason to be frightened of him, Lizzie.
MRS. HOLROYD
Yes—once—
GRANDMOTHER
Oh, but he went wrong. An' he was a taking lad, as iver was. (She cries pitifully) And when I waked his father up and told him, he sat up in bed staring[91] over his whiskers, and said should he come up? But when I'd managed to find the shirt and things, he was still in bed. You don't know what it is to live with a man that has no feeling. But you've washed him, Lizzie?
MRS. HOLROYD
I was finishing his head.
GRANDMOTHER
Let me do it, child.
MRS. HOLROYD
I'll finish that.
GRANDMOTHER
Poor lamb—poor dear lamb! Yet I wouldn't wish him back, Lizzie. He must ha' died peaceful, Lizzie. He seems to be smiling. He always had such a rare smile on him—not that he's smiled much of late—
MRS. HOLROYD
I loved him for that.
GRANDMOTHER
Ay—my poor child—my poor child.
MRS. HOLROYD
He looks nice, mother.
GRANDMOTHER
I hope he made his peace with the Lord.
MRS. HOLROYD
Yes.
GRANDMOTHER
If he hadn't time to make his peace with the Lord, I've no hopes of him. Dear o' me, dear o' me. Is there another bit of flannel anywhere?
[Mrs. Holroyd rises and brings a piece. The Grandmother begins to wash the breast of the dead man.
[92]
GRANDMOTHER
Well, I hope you'll be true to his children at least, Lizzie. (Mrs. Holroyd weeps—the old woman continues her washing) Eh—and he's fair as a lily. Did you ever see a man with a whiter skin—and flesh as fine as the driven snow. He's beautiful, he is, the lamb. Many's the time I've looked at him, and I've felt proud of him, I have. And now he lies here. And such arms on 'im! Look at the vaccination marks, Lizzie. When I took him to be vaccinated, he had a little pink bonnet with a feather. (Weeps) Don't cry, my girl, don't. Sit up an' wash him a' that side, or we s'll never have him done. Oh, Lizzie!
MRS. HOLROYD (sitting up, startled)
What—what?
GRANDMOTHER
Look at his poor hand!
[She holds up the right hand. The nails are bloody.
MRS. HOLROYD
Oh, no! Oh, no! No!
[Both women weep.
GRANDMOTHER (after awhile)
We maun get on, Lizzie.
MRS. HOLROYD (sitting up)
I can't touch his hands.
GRANDMOTHER
But I'm his mother—there's nothing I couldn't do for him.
MRS. HOLROYD
I don't care—I don't care.
GRANDMOTHER
Prithee, prithee, Lizzie, I don't want thee goin' off, Lizzie.
[93]
MRS. HOLROYD (moaning)
Oh, what shall I do!
GRANDMOTHER
Why, go thee an' get his feet washed. He's setting stiff, and how shall we get him laid out?
[Mrs. Holroyd, sobbing, goes, kneels at the miner's feet, and begins pulling off the great boots.
GRANDMOTHER
There's hardly a mark on him. Eh, what a man he is! I've had some fine sons, Lizzie, I've had some big men of sons.
MRS. HOLROYD
He was always a lot whiter than me. And he used to chaff me.
GRANDMOTHER
But his poor hands! I used to thank God for my children, but they're rods o' trouble, Lizzie, they are. Unfasten his belt, child. Me mun get his things off soon, or else we s'll have such a job.
[Mrs. Holroyd, having dragged off the boots, rises. She is weeping.
CURTAIN
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