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WAR DEPARTMENT 
 
 SERVICE EDITION NUMBER 1. 
 
 THE DRUMS OF OUDE 
 
 A Play in One Act 
 
 BY 
 AUSTIN STRONG 
 
 The use of this piece by courtesy of its Author. 
 Dramatic Rights by courtesy of David Belasco. 
 
 Copyright, 1918, Bv Austin Strong 
 
 WASHINGTON 
 
 Commission on Training Camp Activities 
 
 Department of Dramatic Activities Among the 
 
 Soldiers. 
 
 1918. 
 
As originally played on April 5th, 1905 ,J.^ 
 at the Comedy Theatre, London. v.^ w^ 
 
 CHARLES FROHMAN /f^ <^ n 
 Presents ^ /^\^ 
 
 "THE DRUMS OF OUDE" 
 A drama in one act 
 
 By AUSTIN STRONG. 
 
 CAPTAIN HECTOR McGREGOR 
 
 Mr. Matheson Lang 
 
 LIEUTENANT ALAN HARTLEY 
 
 Mr. Kenneth Douglas 
 
 SERGEANT MacDOUGALL.Mr. Louis Goodrich 
 
 STEWART Mr. Hylton Allen 
 
 HINDUSTANI SERVANTS 
 
 Mr. Quentin MacPherson and Mr. A. Farrer 
 
 MRS. JACK CLAYTON. . . .Miss Mabel Hackney 
 
 Scene — An interior of a palace in Northern India, 
 occupied by British troops in the Spring of 
 1857. (W. Hawn.). 
 
 ®C/.D 50155 ^ 
 
 JUL 29 1918 
 
 / l^v. 
 
 i2 
 
 ox 
 
PROPS. 
 
 Curved Indian knife. 
 Pistol 
 Cigar Box 
 Legal papers 
 Tray 
 
 Old-fashioned table 
 Horse hair chair 
 Odd chair 
 Drum 
 
 Piano and stool 
 Silver candelabra 
 Sherry bottle and glasses 
 Cake made of flannel and card-board 
 Standing lamp, red shade 
 Standing lamp, trick shade 
 In dark hall, red Indian lamp — hanging 
 Telegraph instrument 
 Muskets 
 Riding whip. 
 
 Place: — An up-country town in Northern India. 
 Time : — The Spring of 1857. 
 
 Scene: — A store-room in an ancient Palace now 
 occupied ly the British, 
 
DRAMATIS PERSONAE. 
 
 Captain Hector McGregor 
 
 Lieutenant Alan Hartley 
 
 Mrs. Jack Clayton {Hartley's sister) 
 
 Sergeant McDougal 
 
 Stewart {the sentry) 
 
 1st Hindustani Servant 
 
 2nd Hindustani Servant 
 
 Music before curtain rises to he of that 
 mysterious, nervous Indian quality, in a 
 minor key, with the barbaric drum-beat 
 measure throughout. 
 
 All lights out. Theatre in totaJ darkness. 
 Drumming is heard from beyond the 
 stage, mingled with faint cries. This 
 drumming must be great in volume, yet 
 low in key. It stops short. 
 Repeats itself and again stops short. The 
 CURTAIN has gone up in the darkness. 
 The audience first become aware of the 
 moonlit Indian City, in the distance, over 
 the top of an intervening forest. 
 Then they see the outline of the archway 
 and the stage itself, which is a store- 
 room in an old Indian Palace, now occu- 
 pied by the British. There is no furni- 
 ture in the room except a Piano, R., 
 and a business desk, R., rear. A large 
 Indian carpet is upon the floor. The only 
 decorations being two crossed swords on 
 either side of the arch. 
 SENTRY STEWART, in Highland uni- 
 form, passes beyond the arch, in the 
 moonlight, from R. to L. Pause. He re- 
 turns. Pause. T%en again from R. to L. 
 The drumming swells in the distance and 
 seems to come from the Indian City. As 
 the SENTRY appears on his return beat, 
 4 
 
the drumming ceases. He halts centre of 
 archway and turns a puzzled face to- 
 wards the audience and listens intently. 
 Dead silence. 
 
 He is seen to breathe a sigh of relief, 
 straighten himself and continue his 
 stolid march. Silence, 
 Then with a crash door L, bursts open 
 and McGregor slides in. He shuts the 
 door softly and swiftly and listens in- 
 tently with his ear to the panels. He 
 gives a glance at the open arch, then 
 takes three steps centre^ stoops, takes 
 hold of the corner of carpet and flings it 
 back. Rises, goes back to door L, and lis- 
 tens at panels again. Then returns centre 
 and opens a trap-door which was beneath 
 the carpet. The trap-door is three feet 
 square and eight inches thick. 
 He looks carefully in a^id then closing it 
 returns the carpet to its place, stands on 
 it, and listens intently, his eyes to the 
 audience. He then draws from his left- 
 hand coat pocket a large leather cigar 
 case. Chooses a cigar and returns case. 
 He then slowly backs to wall R, — when 
 lie reaches it he strikes a match upon it 
 with a downward sweep of his hand. He 
 lights cigar and carefully putting out the 
 match, he assumes a graceful, easy posi- 
 tion, his back against the wall, his hands 
 rammed deep in his coat pockets and his 
 right foot crossed over his left. His eyes 
 always on the corner of the carpet. 
 STEWART, the sentry, is seen to pass at 
 rear. He halts again and listens as if he 
 heard something. He turns his face to- 
 wards the audience to listen better, and 
 with a start becomes aware of McGREG- 
 5 
 
0R^8 presence. He brings his musket 
 sharply to the shoulder, comes down the 
 stage and halts three paces from MC- 
 GREGOR, his face towards the audience. 
 He makes the stiff soldier's salute, right 
 hand across the body, 
 McGregor continues smoking and re- 
 garding the carpet. Pause, 
 McGregor, {cigar between hu teeth) Well, 
 Stewart? 
 
 Stewart. Please, sir ! Beg pardon, sir, but did 
 you 'ear anything, sir? 
 McGregor. Eh ? 
 
 Stewart. Listen, sir! (McGregor removes the 
 cigar from his mouth and listens. Dead silence.) 
 McGregor. What do you mean? 
 Stewart. {Intensely) Listen, sir! {The drufii- 
 ming heard. It stops abruptly). There, sir! 
 McGregor. Well ? 
 
 Stewart. Beg pardon, sir — but me and the 
 men don't fancy it, sir. 
 
 McGregor. That will do, Stewart. 
 Stewart. Yes, sir! {salutes stiffly — faces 
 about — marches out and resumes sentry duty, 
 and is seen at stated intervals passing and re- 
 passing beyond the arch), 
 
 {Door L. softly opens and Two Hindustani 
 Servants enter, one bearing a standard lamp tvith 
 a red shade. The lamp is lighted. The other 
 bears a small table which he places at l. centre. 
 The standard lamp is placed near the business 
 desk. Sergeant McDougal enters l. with private, 
 both in Highland uniform and carrying tele- 
 graphic apparatus. They cross the stage and 
 exeunt door r. After a moment ticking is heard 
 from that room. The Two Servants have by this 
 time returned with the two wicker chairs, Which 
 they place r. and l. and then exeunt. Sergeant 
 McDougal and Private return through door r. 
 
 6 
 
The Private crosses stage and exits door l. Ser- 
 geant McDouGAL comes down center,) 
 
 (Enter First and Second Hindustani Servants 
 through door l. They go over to McGregor and 
 salaam deeply before him.) 
 
 McGregor. I want you to serve supper up here 
 for two. (They do not move. A pause). Did you 
 
 hear what I said? I said serve supper 
 
 supper up here for two. (They salaam and 
 
 exeunt softly). 
 
 McDouGAL. The telegraph is in working order, 
 sir! {He faces about and goes towards door l. 
 Just as he is about to exit ) 
 
 McGregor. Sergeant ! 
 
 McDouGAL. (stopping abruptly) Y-y-yes, sir! 
 
 McGregor. How many men on guard duty? 
 
 McDouGAL. (in a surprised tone) Seven, sir! 
 (pause), 
 
 McGregor. Wake the others up ! 
 
 McDouGAL. (His tone more surprised) B-b- 
 beg p-pardon, sir! 
 
 McGregor. Double the sentries — Put Neill and 
 ten men on the ground floor with orders to let no 
 one enter except women and civilians. Take the 
 rest yourself and string them along the walls. 
 North and West sides as much as possible, towards 
 the dome. 
 
 McDouGAL. Yes, sir! (is about to exit) . Par- 
 don, sir — but — but do you know when the regi- 
 ment will be back ? 
 
 McGregor. Can't say, McDougal. 
 
 McDouGAL. Thank you, sir. (is about to exit). 
 
 McGregor. Sergeant ! 
 
 McDouGAL. Yes, sir! 
 
 McGregor. Lieutenant Hartley will take com- 
 mand. Kindly wake him up with my compliments 
 and ask him up here. 
 
 McDougal. Yes, sir. (Exits). 
 
 (Drumming is heard again. Sbntrt is seen to 
 
 7 
 
pass from r. to l., then l. to r. McGregor still 
 regards the corner of the carpet^ the cigar between 
 hi^ teeth. Door l. opens and Lieutenant Hart- 
 ley enters; a tally fair-haired English lad^ garrul- 
 ous and pink-cheeked. He is buttoning his tunic 
 and wears the expression of one who has been 
 aroused from a deep sleep. He looks vaguely 
 about for McGregor, but does not see him). 
 
 McGregor. Ah, Hartley. 
 
 Hartley, {in a thick , sleepy voice). Oh, there 
 you are — didn't see where you were at first. Why 
 in thunder — {yawns) — d-d-did y-y-you w-wake me 
 u-up at this hour? — Must be near one or two or 
 something — ^your man bounced me out of bed as if 
 the house was afire. ( Goes over to table and mixes 
 brandy and soda.) And why have you moved up 
 to this outlandish store-room? {drinks glass, his 
 voice becoming more awake.) Shifted all your 
 things, too! {he pauses, and then becoming wide 
 awake he suddenly asks) I say, McGregor, what's 
 up? 
 
 McGregor. Listen ! ( The drumming a shade 
 louder). 
 
 Hartley. Oh, that's the Mohurrum business 
 they're having. Guess the beggars will keep it up 
 all night. They tell me it is a religious festival 
 they hold here once a year. {Hartley takes a feic 
 strides nearer McGregor) I say, you don't think 
 there is anything nasty about it, do you? 
 
 McGregor. India is a queer place, Hartley. 
 
 Hartley. By Jove — come to think of it — I— 
 did you hear that queer rumor this morning? 
 
 McGregor. Rumors — You're all alike, you 
 youngsters. I was the same myself once — well, 
 out with it ! 
 
 Hartley. Something about a small cake ! 
 
 McGregor. ( Sharply ) What ? Quick 
 
 where was it seen? 
 
 Hartley. {Blithely) The chaps I was talk- 
 
 8 
 
ing to said that it was a sure sign that these devils 
 meant mischief. They called it the fiery cross of 
 India and they said that this little cake passes 
 from hand to hand — from village to village — and 
 the message which means mutiny and disaster 
 flies faster than our telegraph! 
 
 McGregor. Oh, yes — I know all that But 
 
 where was it seen? 
 
 Hartley. This morning on the steps of the 
 Mission! (A pause while Hartley watches Mc- 
 Gregor's face, who goes on smoking. Hartley, 
 
 in an eager voice) I say ^by Jove ^you don't 
 
 think there's a chance for a row, do you? 
 
 McGregor. Hartley. 
 
 Hartley. Yes, old chap? 
 
 McGregor. You are standing over forty tons 
 of gunpowder ! 
 
 Hartley, {standing hack and looking down at 
 the carpet) What! 
 
 McGregor. Beneath you is the magazine ! 
 
 Hartley. The magazine! {stooping and lift- 
 ing edge of carpet) I didn't know it was here! 
 Thought it was by the Colonel's quarters. 
 
 McGregor. Hartley, these sepoys want that 
 powder. 
 
 Hartley. Eh ? 
 
 McGregor. I'm afraid they will be disap- 
 pointed. 
 
 Hartley. I say, McGregor — do you really 
 think 
 
 McGregor. The regiment is away — we don't 
 know when it will be back. The town is full of 
 strangers .... {Pause) Hartley, there are 
 women in this town — white women — English 
 women. 
 
 Hartley. Rather — And, by Jove, there's my 
 sister, Mrs. Clayton, the widow — I hadn't thought 
 of her ! 
 
 McGregor. Well, you see — I had, Hartley! 
 
 9 
 
Hartley. (surprised) Why, what do you 
 mean . . . . ? 
 
 McGregor. Only that I bribed her woman — 
 her faithful ayah — to bring her here tonight under 
 some pretext or other. I expect her any minute 
 now. 
 
 Hartley. I say, that was clever of you! 
 {Pause, McGregor goes over Centre for the first 
 time and looks through archway. Hartley, in a 
 queer voice) You have known my sister, Mrs. 
 Clayton, a long time out here, haven't you? 
 
 McGregor. I remember her before she left Eng 
 land — when you were still at Sandhurst. 
 
 Hartley. She used often to write me of you. 
 
 McGregor, (turning) She did? 
 
 Hartley. You have been a better friend to her 
 than ever Clayton, her husband, was. 
 
 McGregor. The man's dead. Hartley. 
 
 Hartley. Oh yes, I know — but it was all the 
 mater's fault she ever married him. (Pause. 
 Hartley goes over to McGregor in a shy, boyish 
 manner.) I say, McGregor — give us a chance if 
 there's a row? 
 
 McGregor, (smili^ig) I woke you up for that 
 purpose. You'll take command of the walls in a 
 few minutes. I don't trust anyone here except 
 myself. That is why I had my things shifted. 
 (takes out watch) The Colonel ought to be near 
 Bandagaar by this time. You stay here a moment 
 — I'll telegraph along the line. ( Goes toward the 
 door at R.) 
 
 Hartley. McGregor ! 
 
 McGregor. Eh ? 
 
 Hartley. You're a brick to give a fellow such a 
 chance — thanks ! 
 
 McGregor, (laughing) Don't be too sanguine, 
 Hartley — it's a bad habit. Perhaps, after all, this 
 is nothing. (Exits into next room, at r. and after 
 a moment is heard telegraphing). 
 
 10 
 
 J 
 
(Hartley takes another look at the magazine^ 
 then goes to the center of the archway and listens 
 a moment to the drumming^ which, hy fine degrees 
 has grown louder. The Sentry passes at rear, hut 
 doesnH see Hartley. Hartley goes over r. to 
 business desk and idly looks over it. Picks up a 
 newspaper, looks at it a moment, and then drops 
 it. He sees writing materials upon the desk. He 
 seats himself, spreads paper, leans forward and 
 dips pen in ink). 
 
 Hartley, {as he writes) Dear Mater . . . 
 This is the slowest station in Northern India . . 
 there is nothing to do ... no society . . . 
 nothing! Sis is practically the only English- 
 woman of any account, except the Major's wife 
 and Mrs. Indermaur. By the way, Captain Mc- 
 Gregor, my senior, you remember him . . . the 
 chap Sis used to write us about . . . Well, he's 
 a thoroughbred and dead nuts on Sis . . . has 
 been all his life, it seems. I think McGregor is the 
 only man Sis ever cared a straw about, but she 
 won't have a word said against Clayton's mem- 
 ory . . . (Hartley leans back in his chair, lift- 
 ing his pen and searching the ceiling for ideas. 
 Then leans forward and continues writing in 
 silence, ) 
 
 {Door l. softly opens and First and Second 
 Servants glide noiselessly in, walking as Orient- 
 als do, straight from the hips. They move about 
 quietly setting the table. The drumming ceases 
 suddenly. The Servants raise their heads slowly 
 and look deep into each other's eyes, across the 
 table. They both come forward centre without 
 changing their relative positions or shifting their 
 gaze from each other's eyes. They stand center a 
 moment listening. Then a small, white cake, the 
 size of a griddle cake, flies through the archway 
 and falls between the Servants. The First Ser- 
 vant drops on one knee and covers the cake ivith 
 
 11 
 
his right hand, and watches his companiofi. Sec- 
 ond Servant takes four deliberate steps hack- 
 wards, which irings him immediately behind 
 Hartley, tdho is deep in his letter. Second Ser- 
 vant slowly draws from his hosom a pistol which 
 he levels at Hartley's neck, about two feet dis- 
 tant. Hartley blots letter with a satisfied air, 
 throws down pen, leans far back in his cha4r, 
 tohich brings the muzzle of the pistol ivithin two 
 inches of his neck. He passes his hand through 
 his hair and reads) {Reading in a satisfied air) 
 .... and I always wear my flannels as you 
 asked me to, and take my two grains of quinine 
 regularly. I forgot to say in my last letter that 
 Spiffy Watkins may have my cricket bat. I shan't 
 need it again, but don't let anyone touch my fish- 
 ing rod on any account! (Leans forward to un- 
 derline — ^^any^') You needn't be anxious about 
 me, mother dear — there is no danger in India. 
 It's positively dull, it's so safe. Love to every- 
 body — shall write the girls next mail. Your af- 
 fectionate son, Alan Hartley. P. S. — I repeat — 
 don't let anyone touch my fishing rod. 
 
 (The ticking of the telegraph is heard to stop 
 suddenly. Second Servant hides pistol in his 
 bosom. First Servant rises and hides cake in his 
 sash. Both assume position at door l,, one imme- 
 diately behind the other — watching^ARTijEY in- 
 tently. Hartley rises, folds letter, slips it into 
 envelope, and is about to lick it when he becomes 
 aware of the two Indians staring at him. He is 
 taken aback. They drop their eyes — salaam, and 
 exeunt together,) Hartley {taking five paces 
 after them and stopping with a startled expres- 
 sion) By Gad, I didn't know those men were in 
 tlie room. I wish these servant fellows would laugh 
 or make a noise, or anything — instead of bowing 
 and gliding about. {with a slight shudder) 
 Makes a fellow feel deuced uncanny ! 
 
 12 
 
McGregor. (Entering with papers which he 
 throws on business desk, then comes centre^ sits) 
 Can^t get the Colonel yet. They haven't reached 
 the station — or they have passed it. 
 
 Hartley, (still looking after the servants) I 
 say, McGregor, do you trust those two servants 
 of yours ? 
 
 McGregor, (laughing and coming forward) 
 Implicitly . . . Come, my dear boy, take a seat 
 and have some supper, (motions Hartley to a 
 seat opposite to him at the table) I would trust 
 those two men with my life. 
 
 Hartley. Well, I suppose you know. For 
 myself, I don't like them. Fact is, I never liked 
 the looks of any of these vermin — they're so 
 damned slippery. 
 
 McGregor. Hartley, may I give you a piece of 
 advice ? 
 
 Hartley. (Taking a large piece of toast. His 
 mouth full) Go ahead. 
 
 McGregor. You are new to India — you have 
 only joined the regiment three weeks, and you 
 have an imagination . . . My boy, quell it — 
 stifle it — for if you let it grow in this hotbed of 
 rumors and strange noises, it will devour you ! 
 I have seen brave men made cowards by it . . . 
 Sherry ? 
 
 Hartley. Thanks. (McGregor pours it out) 
 Perhaps you're right, but talking of rumors — do 
 tell me more about this chuppattie cake! 
 
 McGregor. Fact is, no one knows much about 
 them. A chuppattie cake is the commonest thing 
 in India. Why, it's the food of the people — it's 
 their bread. 
 
 Hartley. These chaps told me it was a signal 
 of mutiny — they told me of a sentence that went 
 with it — do you know it? 
 
 McGregor. "Sub lal hogga hi." (pronounced 
 ^^8uh lal hoyarggV^), 
 
 13 
 
Hartley. And what does that mean, pray? 
 
 McGregor, (slowly) Everything is to become 
 red! 
 
 Hartley, (watching McGregor^ wJio goes on 
 calmly eating). Do do you believe in it? 
 
 McGregor. Depends, Hartley, v^here I saw one. 
 
 Hartley. What do you mean? 
 
 McGregor. If I saw a chuppattie in an out-of- 
 the-way place 
 
 Hartley, (eagerly) Yes? 
 
 McGregor, (smiling) India's a queer place, 
 Hartley, (pause) I remember when I was with 
 a sepoy regiment once, the Colonel had us out on 
 a surprise inspection one night, and we found that 
 a corporal had two chuppatties under his pillow 
 .... (pause) We had a narrow escape that 
 night. (They both rise suddenly to their feet). 
 
 Hartley. Did you hear that? 
 
 McGregor. (Listening) Yes. 
 
 Hartley. Sounded like . . . sounded like a 
 whistle ! 
 
 McGregor. Sit down! (They both sit down) 
 (Enter the Two Hindustani Servants with more 
 dishes for dinner), 
 
 McGregor. (to 1st Servant) Abdul, that 
 lamp is smoking — turn it down. (1st Servant 
 crosses the stage to r. to standing lamp, which he 
 lowers. He listens all the while intently with his 
 eyes fixed upon Ms companion^ who is immediate- 
 ly behind Hartley. As he reaches centre of stage 
 on his return^ unnoticed by himself or any of the 
 others the Chuppattie falls from his sash to the 
 floor near McGregor. Exeunt Servants softly). 
 
 Hartley. (Using a siphon) I don't like those 
 two men ! 
 
 McGregor. Oh, you will get over that, Hartley. 
 
 (Door L. bursts open and Sergeant McDougal 
 enters, breathless — he salutes and stands) (Mc- 
 Gregor, going on eating) Well, McDougal? 
 
 14 
 
McDouGAL. (Breathlessly) Please, sir — Mrs. 
 Cameron, Miss Williams and five other ladies, Mr. 
 Palmer and Judge Lawson with some civilian 
 gentlemen, have come into the walls, sir! They 
 seek protection, sir! They're afraid of a rising, 
 sir! 
 
 McGregor. Ah ! Is — is Mrs. Clayton with 
 them? 
 
 McDouGAL. N-n-no, Sir! P-p-please, s-sir — 
 what'll I do with them, sir? 
 
 McGregor, (thoughtfully) Well, I can't very 
 well leave this room . . . 
 
 Hartley, (rising abruptly) I'll go! 
 
 McGregor. Sit down — I want you here, Hart- 
 ley! McDougal, put the ladies in the Mess Room 
 and see that they are properly cared for. Give 
 the gentlemen muskets and put them on the North 
 side as much as possible. Lieut. Hartley will take 
 command in a few minutes. McDougal ! 
 
 McDougal. Yes, Sir! (about to exit) 
 
 McGregor. And McDougal 
 
 McDougal. Yes, sir! 
 
 McGregor. If Mrs. Clayton comes, show her 
 up here. 
 
 McDougal. Yes, sir. (salutes and exits), 
 
 (They go on eating in silence. Hartley tries 
 to hide his excitement and watches McGregor ex- 
 citedly. At lasty with a great show of unconcern 
 he drains his cup of coffee^ uses a napkin, throws 
 it down, and speaks in an obviously careless man- 
 ner). 
 
 Hartley. My sister . . . You think she will 
 get here safely? 
 
 McGregor. I have known this servant of hers 
 for years . . . Your sister will be here — don't 
 you worry. (Rises — another pause. Hartley 
 tries again to hide his excitement). 
 
 Hartley. (Obviously making conversation) I 
 say, McGregor — I am interested about these chup- 
 
 15 
 
pattie cakes — tell me what does one look like? 
 
 McGregor. (Going over to business desk. He 
 gets cigar box from a drawer und returns across 
 stage. He pauses in the centre and looks out into 
 the moonlight.) Hartley, I don't see that sentry! 
 
 (He remains silent a moment ^ looking out, then 
 comes over to the table and throws the cigar box 
 among the dishes) Have a cheroot? 
 
 (Business of Hartley choosing one. McGregor 
 puts a match into the candle and facing audience 
 holds it in the air, his eyes to the ceiling) What's 
 a chuppattie look like ? Why, let me see if I can 
 describe it to you. 
 
 (Lights cigar thoughtfully — then looks upon 
 the floor, match still burning in his ri^ht hand. 
 Sees cake at his feet. Shakes out the lighted 
 m<itch slowly. Puts it carefully in the saucer. 
 Takes a draw at his cigar, all the while examining 
 the cake vntently) Well, it looks like a griddle 
 cake . . . it's thick — and — er — white. (Lean^ 
 down and picks up with his right hand and weighs 
 it) Weighs about an ounce — looks deuced indi- 
 gestible ! 
 
 (Hartley at this tvord is in the act of lighting 
 his cigar under the candle shade. McGregor care- 
 lessly throws cake on table and it falls with a 
 clatter among the dishes.) Something like that, 
 Hartley. 
 
 Hartley, (sternly back) My God — how did 
 that get here? 
 
 McGregor. (Looking over the heads of the 
 audience) I told you India was a queer place, 
 Hartley. (Hartley puts his cigar on his plate 
 and watches McGregor's face excitedly.) 
 
 McGregor, (slowly) The first thing to be 
 done, Hartley, is to see if that sentry is there. 
 
 Hartley. (Quickly) I'll go and see! (Turns 
 and runs towards arch). 
 
 McGregor. Stop! (Hartley stops abruptly) 
 16 
 
Are you armed? 
 
 Hartley. (With a rising inflection) No! 
 (Looks about) 
 
 McGregor. You will find one in the left hand 
 drawer of my desk. (Hartley goes to desk, opens 
 draweVy takes out pistol^ comes hack center hold- 
 ing the pistol in front of him. Is seen to collect 
 himself y square his shoulders and marc^h out into 
 the moonlight with military step. Halts without, 
 his hack to the audience,) What do you see? 
 
 Hartley. All the men seem to be at their posts. 
 I see Mr. Palmer and Judge Lawson — they have 
 given them muskets. 
 
 McGregor. And Stewart — the sentry? (Hart- 
 ley disappears r. of archway, then returns at a 
 run. He arrives hreathless at McGregor's side). 
 
 Hartley. {in a whisper) TheyHe cut his 
 throat ! 
 
 McGregor. Hartley! Hartley! {Draws his 
 cigar sharply from his mouth. Pause,) Hartley, 
 would you mind going into that room and tele- 
 graphing? 
 
 Hartley. {Flying to the door r., hreathless 
 with excitement,) What will I say? 
 
 McGregor. Get Bandaggaar .... If they 
 don't answer get Sir John at Hadraa . . . then 
 the Bulbud Residency . . . Repeat the one word 
 "massacre" 'till someone answers you! 
 
 {Exit Hartley, hanging the door. Then the 
 sound of the machine repeating the same message 
 over and over again. Drumming hegins again, 
 McGregor stands a moment longer looking over 
 the heads of the audience, then goes quickly to the 
 business desk and hegins pulling out with feverish 
 hurry papers and documents which he tears to 
 pieces. His cigar between his teeth. Door l. 
 opens with a hang and the Two Hindustani Sbr- 
 VANRS bu/rst into the room, wildly searching for 
 the lost chuppattie cake. First Servant is seen 
 
 17 
 
feeling in his sash, McGregor turns sharply 
 around,) What the devil 
 
 ( Servants immediately salaam and make a pre- 
 tense of going towards the table,) Oh yes, we 
 have finished — ^you may clear away the things. 
 
 {He turns his hack to them and goes on tearing 
 up the papers. As soon as his hack is turned^ 
 First Servant signals through door at l. and out 
 troop all the other Servants. They tiptoe down 
 stage, all with their eyes on McGregor's hack. 
 They pass through arch and one hy one leap lightly 
 over the parapet and out of sight. When all have 
 gone — McGregor speaking through his teeth, still 
 tearing up his papers, his hack to the empty 
 stage) Look here, you men — I didn't like the way 
 you burst into the room just now! (Pause, he 
 goes on tearing up papers) What did you mean 
 by it? {pause) I said, what did you mean by it? 
 {He turns sharply) Look here, when I ask a 
 question I expect an answer . . . {The words 
 die on his lips as he sees the empty stage), 
 
 {Stands silent a moment, looking at the un- 
 touched supper tahle. Then takes three deliher- 
 ate steps backwards, which brings him to r. of 
 arch. He raises his hand and unhooks one of the 
 Indian swords that decorated the wall, and throws 
 it lightly on the desk within easy reach. He then 
 leans comfortably on the side of the archway, look- 
 ing out into the moonlight, smoking his cigar. A 
 sound of running feet approaching, McGregor's 
 ha7id is seen to move towards the sword on the 
 desk. He continues smoking and looking out), 
 
 A Woman's Voice. Captain McGregor! Cap- 
 tain McGregor ! 
 
 (McGregor removes the cigar from his mouth 
 and gives a quick look at the magazine door. 
 Then, breathless and half crying with excitement, 
 Mrs. Clayton enters wildly and leans fainting 
 against wall l. of archway. She covers her eyes 
 
 18 
 
with her arm). 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. (Wildly) Captain McGregor 
 . . . your men . . . your men showed me up 
 here . . . the town is rising! Save me! Save 
 me! 
 
 McGregor. (In a polite voice^ carefully putting 
 cigar out in a small ash-tray beside him on the 
 desk) Why, how do you do, Mrs. Clayton? 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. No — no — no — the sepoys 
 
 they're rising — where is my brother? — I escaped 
 just in time! . . . 
 
 McGregor. (Wheeling on an easy chair to- 
 wards her) I know, but won't you sit down? . . 
 Your brother is here ... in the next room. 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. Can't you hear them? . . . 
 they're coming . . . well all be massacred! 
 
 McGregor. Come, Mrs. Clayton . . . (Forces 
 her gently into a chair) Sit down. Your nerves 
 are all awry. Calm yourself! 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. Calm myself! . . . Listen! 
 (They listen a moment to the drumming), 
 
 McGregor. (Going over to the tahle^ taking a 
 decanter with which he fills a small glass,) Why, 
 you know what that is, Mrs. Clayton; it's the 
 Mohurrum business — religious affair — pious riot 
 — quite harmless. Won't you try some of my 
 sherry? (Offers glass). 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. (Waving glass aside) Captain 
 McGregor, the natives are pouring into the town 
 by thousands ! They are collecting at the bazaar ! 
 There is danger! I feel it here! (Puts hand on 
 heart). 
 
 McGregor. Do you think, Mrs. Clayton, that 
 if there was much danger I would be here enjoy- 
 ing a cigar alone? 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. I — I — I — suppose — after all — 
 I — I — I — I have let my nerves get the better of 
 me . . . but, oh. Captain McGregor — ^just as I 
 was going to bed I began to hear that horrid, 
 
 19 
 
queer noise they are making! (Listens a moment) 
 I called Rebottie — ^you know her — my faithful 
 ayah. Well, she told me that all the servants had 
 fled! 
 
 McGregor. (Laughing) You can no more keep 
 a native from a Mohurrum than a small boy from 
 a circus. My servants have left me, too! 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. But this kind of thing never 
 happened to me before! We flew to the stables 
 to saddle our own horses, but they were all gone — 
 they had taken them too ... So we ran here 
 on foot — choosing the back street. I could see the 
 town was full of strangers — they are pouring 
 from all quarters! When we came to your gates 
 they sent me up here! 
 
 McGregor. They did right — but after all this, 
 you must calm yourself. (Gives her the glass 
 again which she reluctantly drinks. White she is 
 in the acty he turns his head slowly and looks 
 through the archway), 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. (Weakly) I'm afraid I've Mi 
 made an awful fool of myself. You'll have to for- m\ 
 give me, Captain McGregor. You know, really, 
 I am not often frightened, but India has always I 
 been a land of horror to me. Full of sounds and j 
 strange noises — terrible — terrible silences . . . 
 and always those eyes looking at you ! One can't 
 help thinking of what these sepoys will do when 
 they at once let loose ! Remember that Oude mas- 
 sacre . . . Massacre! Massacre! ... I can't 
 get that word out of my brain. 
 
 McGregor. (Still listening and not looking 
 up) Come — rest a bit. You're worn out! 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. (Suddenly ^ after a pause) But 
 I can't stay here — it's late! If you really think, 
 Captain McGregor, that there is no cause for 
 alarm, will you forgive a silly woman and let her 
 return home? 
 
 McGregor, (slowly) Won't you stay a bit? ! 
 20 ' 
 
. . . Your brother is here. 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. Fd like to . . . (Laughing) — 
 but it's growing very late ! 
 
 McGregor. Then I'll call Stewart and have him 
 take you home. (Goes toward a/rch, thinking 
 deeply, T'hen stopping.) By the way, won't you 
 in the meantime play me something on my new 
 piano? I had it shifted up here with my other 
 things — I want you to try it for me. 
 
 (Reluctant^ yet to humor him, she pulls off her 
 gloves and goes towards the piano. She pauses 
 to put her gloves upon the tahle, and sees the 
 dhuppattie cake lying among the dishes. She 
 turns quickly with a face full of horror to Mc- 
 Gregor, who is leaning against the archway and 
 looking out). 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. (In an awed and intense voice) 
 ELow did this get here? 
 
 McGregor. Eh? . . . Oh . . . the chuppat- 
 tie . . . Why, you know, I rather like them. 
 Always have them for supper . . . I'm quite an 
 Indian in my tastes. 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. (With a ^hort laugh of relief) 
 You must think I'm an awful coward — but you 
 know the rumor of these cakes, and that awful 
 sentence, "All is to become red!" {Stands still 
 looking down at it with a frightened face). 
 
 McGregor. Come — you have been badly fright- 
 ened, and I don't blame you. Do try my piano 
 and forget for a moment this country which you 
 detest so heartily ! 
 
 (Mrs. Clayton goes over to the piano, seats her- 
 self and commences playing "The Water Lily" 
 softly and with deep feeling. The drumming goes 
 on. Hartley is heard repeating the one word in- 
 cessently on the telegraph. McGregor keeps his 
 position at the side of the archway, looking out. 
 Mrs. Clayton plays for some time in silence). 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. {Stopping abruptly, and in a 
 21 
 
queer voice) Did you call that man to take me 
 home, Captain McGregor? 
 
 McGregor. Yes. 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. I didn't hear you. 
 
 McGregor. {Coming down stage mid leaning 
 over the edge of the piano) He will be here in a 
 moment. {She goes on playing again, looking up 
 at him. His voice changes to one of emotion) 
 That was the melody you played at the Maharaja's 
 ball. 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. You remember that? 
 
 McGregor. Remember! . . . My life is made 
 up of memories. {Pause) I remember the day 
 when a fresh, young, English girl arrived on t}\i^ 
 decks of a great East Indianman — and how we 
 cheered her pretty face! I remember a military 
 wedding at Calcutta and Mrs. Jack Clayton the 
 toast of the regiment. And then I remember when 
 I first saw you in mourning ... 1 remember 
 many things! {sighs) {Here a long pause, Mc- 
 Gregor turns his face slowly and looks through 
 archway), 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. {Her voice low and full) You 
 have been a loyal friend ! {She plays) , 
 
 McGregor. {Turning to her with a smile) 
 How wonderfully you play! {A Pause) What a 
 strange and beautiful thing awakened memory is ! 
 One can live again those hours one has thought 
 forever lost. Do you — can you — remember and 
 live over those wonderful days — in the old bunga- 
 low by the river — the queer lights and tall shadows 
 — when in the gaiety of your heart you called me 
 Major Dobbin? 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. Because you were so awkward 
 and were always upsetting my tea cups and 
 things — oh, yes — I remember. 
 
 McGregor. I thought you called me Major 
 Dobbin because I was so faithful. 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. Perhaps I did. {She plays on a 
 22 
 
moment, and then stops and sits looking out into 
 the moonlight in silence, McGregor watching her 
 intently the while). What a dear fellow you 
 were, Major Dobbin ! Ah, a woman never forgets 
 a man's friendship in a time like that — and it 
 seems I can never get the chance — {Turning to 
 Mm) to thank you enough! 
 
 McGregor. Thank me ! . . . Why, I stood by 
 you, as you call it, because I couldn't help myself 
 — because you're the only woman worthy of the 
 name . . . because you took your trouble like a 
 thoroughbred . . . because . . . because you 
 are beautiful . . . because you're straight and 
 tall and your hair is brown . . . because you're 
 true, and clean -hearted . . . because, old friend, 
 I have loved you all my life ! 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. (Her voice broken) Major 
 Dobbin ! 
 
 McGregor. (Coming to her side and kneeling 
 on one knee) Aye— Major Dobbin — as ever was! 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. (Putting her hand on his shoul- 
 der and looking down into his eyes.) You know 
 'way down deep in your heart that you were the 
 first and only one — and now, old friend, tried and 
 trusted — after all these years of silence and pain 
 — here is your reward. (With a low laugh) A 
 poor thing. Major, but myself — my honor — my 
 
 life — my — my (Tenderly drawing his head 
 
 with both hands to %er bosom and putting her 
 lips to Ms hair) . . . my Major Dobbin! (Mc- 
 Gregor raises his head and their lips meet. Mc- 
 Gregor then stands straight and breathes deep), 
 
 McGregor. It was worth it — it was worth the 
 waiting for! (The sound of a chair being violent- 
 ly overturned in room at r.) 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. What is that? (Door bursts 
 open and Hartley bursts in). 
 
 Hartley. (Shouting) McGregor! McGregor! 
 
 McGregor. ( Going quickly up to Mm and 
 28 
 
speaking in a calm, rapid voice) Ah, Hartley 
 . . . (Turning) Here is Mrs. Clayton, your sis- 
 ter . . . she sought our protection, thinking that 
 perhaps this Mohurrum was a sepoy rising, but 
 I have assured her that there is no cause for 
 alarm. 
 
 Hartley. (Breathlessly) It's all right, Sis 
 . . . you needn't be alarmed . . . I — I — I — if 
 there had been any danger we would have heard 
 of it. 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. You must forgive us, poor 
 women, our cowardice, Alan — it is only when we 
 realize our helplessness that we are frightened. 
 Sometimes I wish that I were a man — a soldier — 
 a Highlander like yourselves — instead of a woman 
 who has to wait and listen . . . and listen . . 
 and listen ! 
 
 Hartley. (Blatantly) It is not all beer and 
 skittles being a man, I can assure you. Sis . . . 
 Why, do you know — ^just now . . . ! 
 
 McGregor. ( Sharp ly ) Hartley ! 
 
 Hartley. Eh ? 
 
 McGregor. Would you kindly take a message 
 for me? 
 
 Hartley. Pardon me. Sis. (She inclines her 
 head and goes on playing, her eyes to the keys. 
 Hartley goes over to McGregor and ioth watch 
 her as they speak), 
 
 McGregor. (In an undertane) Well, what is 
 it? 
 
 Hartley. (In an excited whisper) They have 
 cut the wires! 
 
 McGregor. Ah — I thought as much! 
 
 Hartley. Sir John says, don't let them get 
 the powder! 
 
 McGregor. He needn't worry. 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. (Stopping her playing and look- 
 ing up) Is your man ready. Captain McGregor? 
 (politely.) It is growing very late! 
 
 24 
 
McGregors. I am sending your brother to hurry 
 him up. (Mrs. Clayton goes on playing). 
 
 Hartley. {To McGregor) Well? 
 
 McGregor. You'll take command now at once, 
 as they shall be on us in a moment. Hold them 
 off as long as possible. I'll stay here and watch 
 that powder. (Points to the corner of the carpet.) 
 I daren't trust anyone in this room except myself. 
 If they once get over the walls . . . 
 
 Hartley. We're lost! 
 
 McGregor. If they once do, Hartley . . . 
 
 Hartley. Yes . . . ? 
 
 McGregor. Have the bugler sound the charge 
 so that I can hear it. Make him play it loudly, 
 mind you I 
 
 Hartley. And then ? 
 
 McGregor. I shall blow up the magazine! 
 
 Hartley. By Jove 
 
 McGregor. Quick — say a word to your sister, 
 and go! (Hartley hacks down stage, watching 
 McGregor, who is looking out into the moonlight 
 — he feels the air behind him for his sister). 
 
 Hartley. (As he reaches her) {She continues 
 to play) I say. Sis, I'm going for the man. I 
 won't be back myself — She'll see you safe home. 
 I want to say good — good-night! 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. {Continuing her music) Good- 
 night, old fellow! 
 
 Hartley. Sis? 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. {Stopping and looking around) 
 Yes, Alan? 
 
 Hartley. Pardon my asking, but — has Mc- 
 Gregor said anything to you? 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. {Looking up and smiling) Yes. 
 
 Hartley. {With enthusiasm) I'm glad! 
 {Bending and kissing her tenderly) Good-night, 
 old girl! 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. Good-night, my brother! 
 
 Hartley. {Goes up to McGregor and given 
 26 
 
him his hand in silence) I congratulate you . . 
 By Jove, you are a brick . . . (lower) Good- 
 bye! (McGregor gives him his hand in silence 
 and Hartley exits, drawing his pistol). 
 
 (McGregor remains a moment looking after 
 him, and then com.es down stage and leans on the 
 piano and watches Mrs. Clayton as she continues 
 to play softly, A Sepoy^s head and shoulders rise 
 up stealthily from behind the balustrade — beyond 
 the arch. First an arm appearing, then a turban, 
 and then a white trousered leg is thrown over the 
 balustrade. McGregor turns quickly and sees the 
 Sepoy who instantly drops out of sight. Mrs. 
 Clayton has seen nothing and continues playing 
 dreamily. McGregor goes at once to the desk and 
 quickly opens a drawer and takes out a black 
 coil of fuse. He comes down centre. He throws 
 back the corner of the carpet, opens the magazine 
 door, gives a quick look through the archway, 
 and lowers one end of the fuse deep into the 
 magazine). 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. {Not looking up) Ah! I'm so 
 hiappy . . . Tell me, dear, you like my brother? 
 
 McGregor. {Backing and uncoiling fuse) 
 Rather! (McGregor leaves end of fuse near 
 center). 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. I suppose India will spoil him 
 like all the rest — ^but it's like a breath of old Eng- 
 land to see his boyish honest face ! 
 
 McGregor. Rather . . . {He says this as he 
 is in the act of taking one of the silver candle- 
 sticks, removes the shade, and places it with the 
 lighted candle near the end of the fuse). 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. I remember when I first saw 
 India — how terrified I was — the bronze and black- 
 ened faces . . . 
 
 {She happens to look around. She stops play- 
 ing and rises slowly. McGregor is standing over 
 the lighted candle with his hands rammed in his 
 
 26 
 
coat pockets. He is looking out into the moon- 
 light. She looks from him to the open magazine^ 
 and hack to him again), 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. What are you doing? 
 
 McGregor. (Turning his face towards the audi- 
 ence) You will pardon me — I have lied to you. 
 I am afraid after all, there is danger. (A pause — 
 Mrs. Clayton remains perfectly still) I thought 
 perhaps I'd spare you unnecessary alarm, but I'm 
 afraid I can't — you see, the regiment is not on 
 time. I know you for a thoroughbred — ^you've the 
 blood of soldiers in your veins. So I can tell you 
 plainly how we stand? 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. (After drauying a quick breath) 
 Tell me! 
 
 McGregor. That door you see open is the pow- 
 der magazine . . . You know what it means if 
 these Sepoys capture it — You know what it means 
 if I let them capture you. You know what it 
 means when they get an Englishwoman in their 
 power! My Highlanders will hold them oflf as 
 long as possible, and if they fail . . . you see my 
 duty? 
 
 Mrs. Clayton, (after a pause ^ lohile she strug- 
 gles with herself) Yes! 
 
 McGregor. I thought it would seem a hard 
 thing to do, but with you beside me — why, girl, I 
 am going to blow up that magazine . . . Will 
 you stand by me? 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. With my last breath! (The 
 sound of musket shooting without, rapid and ter- 
 rifying), 
 
 McGregor. Ah, they've begun already! (They 
 stand listening) Tell me if you hear the bugle 
 call! (The noise without becomes deafening, 
 Savage yells, hoots and firing. The sky through 
 the archway turns scarlet as if the city were afire. 
 Suddenly the standing lamp at r. is shot to pieces 
 by a stray bullet, Mrs. Clayton screams, but 
 
 27 
 
still stands beside piano) What's that? {They 
 listen, A sudden lull in the battle and a tiny call 
 is heard gallantly playing in the distance. Mc- 
 Gregor slowly leans dovm and takes the lighted 
 candlestick in his hand and looks up at Mrs. Clay- 
 ton. She goes to him. He then slowly and care- 
 fully touches the fuse with the lighted candle. 
 It burns with great display towards the maga- 
 zine. Together they watch the fuse as it hisses 
 and splutters towards the yawning pit. The 
 noise unthout becomes deafening. The red light 
 flares more brilliantly — when suddenly the noise 
 stops — dead silence), 
 
 Mrs. Clayton. {Dashes for McGregor's side) 
 Stop it! Stop it! (She flies to the fuse and 
 stamps it out) Can't you hear it? . . . Listen! 
 
 {Pause, They both listen. Then far aioay in 
 the distance is heard fife^ drum and bagpipes play- 
 ing, ^^The Campbells Are Coming, Ye Ho, Ye Ho,'^ 
 It sioells louder at each approaching step), 
 
 (Hartley enters wildly, his coat torn off his 
 back; he carries his smoking revolver, whic% he 
 waves madly). 
 
 Hartley. {Hoarsely, and with excitement) 
 McGregor — McGregor — it's all right! The High- 
 landers are here!* We're saved — saved! 
 
 {Exits reeling and shouting), 
 
 (McGregor puts the candle out by striking the 
 flame with his open palm and catches Mrs. Clay- 
 ton just as she faints, falling backwards into his 
 arms). 
 
 {CURTAIN falls on this tableau now lit with 
 red fire smoke and resounding with rousing Brit- 
 ish cheers, drums and bagpipes. 
 — END— 
 
 Lot 55 
 
 28 
 

 
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