Ig. E. Slechert & Co. 
 
 I Alfred Hafner 
 
 I New York 
 
PETER'S CHANCE 
 
 A PLAY rX THREE ACTS 
 
All acting rights reserved 
 
 The Play has been registered in the Library of Congress 
 Washington, U.S.A. 
 
PETER'S CHANCE 
 
 A PLAY IN THREE ACTS 
 
 BY 
 
 EDITH LYTTELTON 
 
 LONDON 
 DUCKWORTH AND CO 
 
 HENRIETTA ST. COVENT GARDEN 
 1912 
 
^Sf 
 
 BALLANTYNE & COMPANY LTD 
 
 Tavistock Street Covent Garden 
 
 London 
 
FIRST PRODUCED BY MESSRS. J. E. 
 
 VEDRENNE AND DENNIS EADIE 
 
 AT THE ROYALTY THEATRE ON 
 
 MAY 17th, 1912 
 
 Father Bentlet 
 
 The Rbv. Percy Blythe 
 
 Peter Grieve 
 
 Joe Price 
 
 Meatie 
 
 BODGER 
 
 Billy Boy 
 A Tramp 
 
 Mr. J. D. Bbveridgb 
 Mr. Reginald Malcolm 
 Mr. Owen Nares 
 Mr. Stanley Logan 
 Mr. Arthur Bowyer 
 Mr. Stewart Dawson 
 Mr. Robert Lawlor 
 Mr. Wilfred Shine 
 
 Kitty Roman 
 Mrs. Jenks 
 Susie Troak 
 Mrs. Chace 
 Bert 
 Betsy 
 
 Miss Florence Lloyd 
 Miss Mary Relph 
 Miss Constance Little 
 Miss Rose Yule 
 Miss Molly Shiels 
 Miss Estelle Gill 
 
 The action takes place in the Common Room at St. 
 Stephe7i's Mission House, Stepney 
 
 Prodtcced under the Direction of Charles la Trohe 
 
 M1SS615 
 
DRAMATIS PERSONS 
 
 Father Bentley^ called Father Ben 
 
 The Rev. Percy Blythe 
 
 Peter Grieve, a thief 
 
 Joe Price, a thief 
 
 Mbatie, a cat's-meat man 
 
 BODGER, a cripple about twenty 
 
 Billy Boy, a sailor 
 
 A Tramp 
 
 Kitty Roman, a thief 
 
 Mrs. Jenks {called Elizabeth), the housekeeper 
 
 Susie Troak, serving m,aid at St. Stephen's Mission House 
 
 Mrs. Chace, general servant at St. Stephen's Mission Ho^ise 
 
 Bert 
 
 Betsy 
 
 \ children of the tramp, aged eight and seven 
 
ACT I 
 
 Scene : The Common Room at St. Stephen s Mission, 
 Stepney. 
 
 A large bare room which has once been a warehouse. 
 The windoivs are high up, with gratings against 
 them. At the left is a door leading from a passage ; 
 on the right stands a large tortoise stove with an iron 
 pipe chimney carried up to the ceiling. There is 
 one low sash window to the left, evidently a recent 
 addition, giving on to a back yard. At the back a 
 staircase rises up from the I'oom to a double door in 
 an archway close against the ceiling. The staircase 
 is narrow and very plain, but the doors are painted 
 blue and gold. They open straight into the chapel, 
 and through them a dim vista can be seen of hanging 
 lamps and pictures. The space under and beyond 
 the stairs is used as a Vestry, and a curtain can be 
 drawn across it. 
 
 In the centre of the room stands a large table with 
 benches round it, and a wooden arm-chair at the 
 top. Round the stove are two or three comfortable 
 chairs ; one, much worn, holds Father Ben's coai^ 
 a pipe and a comforter. There is also a crumpled- 
 up newspaper. Susie and Mrs. Chace are preparing 
 the room for supper. 
 
 1 A 
 
fc PETER'S CHANCE 
 
 Mrs, Chace. [Wearily getting up from her knees — 
 she has been scrubbing the Jloor.^ Much good all this 
 'ere cleaning and scrubbing is — soon as one lot of 
 dirty chaps is cleared out another lot comes in — it 
 breaks my heart, it does. How the father can put 
 up with it all beats me. 
 
 Susie. He likes it. 
 
 Mrs. Chace. Like it — not 'im — , Why, 'e's a 
 gentleman, 'e is, and sits down to his food with a lot 
 o' dirty smelly-people come from the Lord only knows 
 where. 'E 'adn't ought to. Scum like that ain't fit 
 to sit down with a clergyman, let alone a gentleman. 
 [She begins to laugh.] Not but what 'e does rub 'em 
 down now and then ! Did you 'ear him last night 
 with that there dark chap wot said 'e'd known better 
 days, and never thought as how 'e'd come down to 
 sittin' at the same table with a lot of beggars. Father 
 Ben was at 'im dreckly. " Look 'ere, my man," 'e 
 says, '^ wot was good enough for the Lord of Heaven, 
 is good enough for you ! " The young feller was so 
 hurt he got up to go ! [She laughs again loudly. 
 
 Susie. [Very still and quiet, but has evidently been 
 impressed by the story.'] Did He — the Lord I mean — 
 take his meals with bad people } 
 
 Mrs. Chace. [With great scorn.] In course 'e did; 
 don't you know that } 
 
 Susie. [Feels snubbed^ but reasserts herself.] 'Ave you 
 got the new curate's room ready? 'E'll be 'ere 
 directly. 
 
 Mrs. Chace. 'Ave 1 got it ready .^ 'Aven't I been 
 
PETER^S CHANCE 8 
 
 scrubbing the boards this 'alf hour, and me with me 
 knees all squlchy with the rheumatiz ? They do ache 
 crule. 
 
 Susie. I wonder what 'e'll be like ' [She smiles.] 
 The last one, 'e didn't stay long. 
 
 Mrs. Chace. No wonder, por young feller I 'aving 
 'is room full of tramps every night. I calls it a 
 shaime ! 
 
 [Enter Father Ben fro7n the door at the back. 
 He is in a long black soutane, rather dirty 
 and creased, and which does not help to 
 lessen his figure. He looks very cheerful 
 and smiling. 
 
 Father Ben. Now then, young ladies — is supper 
 nearly ready ? 
 
 Mrs. Chace. 'Ow many are you expectin' to-night. 
 Father Ben } 
 
 Father Ben. I don't quite know — \He laughs'] — 
 but I never do know, do I } Poor old Mrs. Chace — 
 I must say you are a model charwoman. 
 
 [He sits down by the stove and fills his pipe. 
 
 Mrs. Chace. I'm not a char — I'm a general ! 
 
 Father Ben. [Laughs.] Another of my little mis- 
 takes ! Never mind, old girl — you're the best general 
 
 I know ; better than Bobs, or K , or any of 'em, 
 
 — By the way, Susie — there's a man and two 
 children in the kitchen. Elizabeth is giving them 
 some food. They're pretty far gone and couldn't 
 wait for supper, but bring them in here when they've 
 
4 PETER^S CHANCE 
 
 had a good tuck in, and I'll talk to them. Let me 
 see — it's the boys' club to-night, isn't it ? 
 
 Susie. Tuesday — yes. Father — you remember the 
 new reverend who's coming to-day. 
 
 Father Ben. Good heavens, I'd quite forgotten 
 him ! What on earth is his name ; did I tell you, 
 Susie ? 
 
 Susie. You said as 'ow 'is name was Bloith, sir. 
 Father Ben. Bloith, Blythe ! of course — a tiresome 
 name that ! The Reverend Percy Blythe — has a sort 
 of forced cheerfulness about it — don't you think so, 
 Susie ? But I know he's a good chap. Sent here to 
 get a little hardening, I expect. There's a ring at 
 the bell. You look quite presentable, Susie — you go 
 to the door and let him have a good first impression. 
 
 [Susie goes out. 
 [Mrs. Chace gives a sigitificant sniff as she goes 
 on dealing round plates and k?iives and 
 forks. 
 Mrs. Chace. Presentable ! — yes ! — Susie's every- 
 think in this 'ouse — if she's late no one says nothin' ; 
 it's Susie 'ere and Susie there, and who's Susie I'd 
 like to know ? She didn't have no father, nor no 
 mother ; she's a workus girl. 
 Father Ben. Anything else ? 
 
 [Mrs. Chace is startled for a 7ninute, then she 
 puts her arms akimbo and harangues. 
 Mrs. Chace. Yuss — there is somethin' else — you 
 talks to Susie about 'er soul ' I've 'eard yer — I've 
 
PETER'S CHANCE 6 
 
 got a soul too, and I always goes to church reg'tar, 
 
 and I don't see 
 
 Father Ben. Look here, Mrs. Chace, you're an 
 experienced woman, and 1 want you to be specially 
 kind to Susie. That child's heart has been broken. 
 
 Mrs. Chace. Yer don't say 
 
 Father Ben. Well — she'd just been fished out of 
 the Thames when I first came across her. I don't 
 know much about her story, but I know enough. 
 She's been bruised through and through. I can talk 
 about her soul to her, as you say, and the grace of 
 God almighty can keep her — but you can help, by 
 being kind to her. 
 
 Mrs. Chace. [Her face begins to beam.] There ! — 
 that's somethin' like. If you'd talk to me same as 
 
 that Td do anything. Father — I would 
 
 [The door opens and Susie ushers in the Rev, 
 Percy Blythe. He is iallf pale, and 
 emaciated, with dreamy eyes and a general 
 air of permanent distress. He carries a 
 Gladstone bag, which, after a little, he 
 deposits in a corner. Susie and Mrs. 
 Chace, after looking at him curiously and 
 finishing the chairs round the table, go out. 
 Father Ben. Hullo ! — here you are ! 
 
 [He nods easily. 
 Blythe. Father Bentley, I suppose ? 
 
 [He goes towards him, and, rather unwillingly, 
 the Father gets out of his chair, and shakes 
 hands. 
 
6 PETER'S CHANCE 
 
 Father Ben. Have you come straight through 
 from Oxford ? 
 
 Blythe. I took the Underground from Padding- 
 ton, as you said I was to bring no luggage that I 
 could not carry. 
 
 Father Ben. [Easily.'\ Did I ? It was a pre- 
 caution. Won't you put that down ? I once had a 
 man who came here from Oxford, bringing a packing- 
 case of books, a cat, two portmanteaux, and a tele- 
 scope ; there wasn't much of any of them left when 
 he went away ! 
 
 Blythe. [Shocked.] Do you mean they were — were 
 — stolen ? 
 
 Father Ben. Oh ! not exactly that, but the cat 
 strayed, and the clothes came in useful, and the 
 telescope — well, that did disappear rather oddly. 
 The books were returned. There isn't time for 
 books here. 
 
 > Blythe. [Alar7)ied.] I hope, sir, I may be allowed 
 to read a little theology in the evenings. 
 
 Father Ben. [Laughs.] Theology's no use here, 
 my good fellow, and as for the evenings — well, 
 to-night you'll be helping with the boys' club. 
 Many of the members have been professionals — 
 thieves I mean — and they sometimes bring their 
 friends who are still in the business ; and to-morrow 
 you'll be boxing, and the next night preaching, 
 and 
 
 Blythe. Thieves did you say ... do you mean 
 that you actually have them here — — 
 
PETER'S CHANCE 7 
 
 Father Ben. Why not? 
 
 Blythe. I should have thought that to counten- 
 ance sin in any form was a mistake. 
 » Father Ben. I don't countenance sin ; it's the 
 sinner I'm after. Seriously, I've good hopes of some 
 of these boys. I much prefer the thieves to the 
 slackers ; they've got the spirit of adventure about 
 them. You should see some of them at my balls. 
 
 Blythe. Balls ! 
 
 Father Ben. Yes, we turn up the tables and 
 dance here. It's grand fun. I twirl round occa- 
 sionally myself with some of the mothers, people as 
 fat as I am. But, of course it's meant chiefly for the 
 boys and girls. They never have a chance of meet- 
 ing each other in any rational sort of way — the street 
 is the only reception-room of the poor — so we just 
 invite them here. You will have to devote yourself 
 to the wallflowers ; they exist even down in Stepney. 
 
 Blythe. But I can't dance, sir. 
 
 Father Ben. Oh, they'll soon show you how — 
 they'll pull you round all right, don't you worry. 
 Look here, Blythe, have you got any experience at 
 all of this kind of mission work ? 
 
 Bythe. I accompanied Dr. Wellman on a special 
 mission once in Liverpool. 
 
 Father Ben. That was all very correctly done 1 
 expect; no extra colours, or lights, or music — ^just 
 plain severe Church services, with a good sermon 
 about sin and redemption. 
 
 Blythe. The services were very well attended, sir. 
 
8 PETER'S CHANCE 
 
 Fatheir Ben. [Heartily.'] I'm sure of it. Wellman 
 was a fine preacher, and it's a luxury for some people 
 to hear themselves called sinners. You won't get 
 anything like that here though. I don't find fine 
 sermons much use even if I could preach them, 
 which I can't ! The respectable Church services 
 are miles too long for the dear old rough people in 
 the East End. We try to give them something they 
 can grasp, something which goes in at the eye as 
 well as the ear, and all over quickly, so they 
 shouldn't get tired. Some people in high places 
 are rather shocked because we burn incense, and 
 have lights and other popish abominations. And 
 others are shocked because we have little dissenting 
 services, too — prayer meetings and such like — so we 
 offend both sorts. [He laughs. 
 
 Blythe. Aren't you afraid of the Bishop } 
 
 Father Ben. I should be if he began asking ques- 
 tions — but he hasn't yet. 
 
 Blythe. In all humility I venture to think the 
 services of the Church should be sufficient. 
 
 Father Ben. You wait till you've lived in the 
 East End a bit. We've gone wrong somehow. 
 Rome's got the grand worship and Dissent has got 
 the simplicity — we seem to have lost them both. 
 However, I'm not going to talk about that now ! 
 
 Blythe. Where do you hold your services } 
 
 [Father Ben gives a jerk with his thumb to- 
 7vards the staii'case. 
 
 Father Ben. Up there ' 
 
PETER^S CHANCE 9 
 
 Blythe. [In an awed lone.'\ Does that lead to the 
 Chapel ? 
 
 Father Ben. It does — the staircase opens straight 
 into it 
 
 Blythe. But [He hesitates.^ I see you eat in 
 
 this room — all the talk — the smoke — laughing 
 
 Father Ben. Yes, it all goes up the stairs — but 
 then the organ, and the incense, and the singing all 
 come down — that's how it ought to be. The Chapel's 
 bigger than this room and it's often full — there's an 
 entrance from the street too ; the vestry is under 
 the stairs behind that curtain. Well — it's almost 
 time for supper. I dare say you're hungry. 
 
 Blythe. Do you dress } 
 
 Father Ben. [Bursts out latighifig.] You may if you 
 like of course, but you know we're a very mixed set 
 — for instance to-night there'll be [he points to each 
 seat in turn^ Elizabeth — that's my housekeeper, 
 Mrs. Jenks, Mrs. Chace, Meatie — he's an old cat's- 
 meat man who comes in here for a meal every Tues- 
 day — such a blessed old thing he is — and Bodger the 
 hunchback, who plays the organ every evening for 
 nothing but his supper — we all love him. I sit here 
 — and then let me see — the lay helpers are all out 
 to-night, and so's Harris your colleague — there seem 
 to be one or two more I've forgotten, but you shall 
 meet them all. [Susie opens the doorJ\ Hullo ! 
 what's up ? 
 
 Susie. [Entering.'\ The man and kids what's been 
 eatin' in the kitchen, is ready now. Father. 
 
10 PETER'S CHANCE 
 
 Father Ben. Ready ? Full you meaii^ I hope. 
 Bring them in. 
 
 [Susie goes hack and returns with a tramp, in- 
 describahly dirty and ruffianly looking, tvitk 
 two equally dirty children — they slink into 
 the room. 
 
 [Heartily.^ Well my man ! Do you feel better 
 now.'* 
 
 Tramp. Can I have summat to drink, Guvnor — 
 I'm a bit dry ? 
 
 Father Ben. [Looking him up and down.^^ Dry ! — 
 I should think you were. Now you go and have a 
 bath I Susie'll show you where, and then come 
 back here, and we'll see about the drink ! 
 
 Tramp. [Sullenly.'] I don't want no bath 
 
 Father Ben. No bath, no drink — we wet you 
 outside, as well as in, you see ! Come, off with 
 you. 
 
 Tramp. I didn't know I was in a bloomin' 'orspital 
 — or I wouldn't 'ave come. 
 
 Father Ben. Poor fellow — well it won't be so 
 bad : it's hot water, and mind you scrub well — 
 there's a hard brush and some ammonia. Now what 
 about the kids — what are their names ? 
 
 Tramp. Tell the gentlemen . . . [the children 
 wriggle\ This one's Betsy, and that's Albert. 
 
 Father Ben. [Ttu^ning them about,'] Oh dear, oh 
 dear, they're in rags. Susie, go and ask Elizabeth 
 for some clothes for all three of them, and they must 
 have a good scrub, too. . . . Here, Blythe, take 
 
PETER^S CHANCE U 
 
 the children up to the other bathroom, undress them, 
 burn these clothes, and give 'em a real good rub 
 down. 
 
 Blythe. Wouldn't it be better if some lady under- 
 took the task— I've never undressed any children or 
 washed them. 
 
 Father Ben. Oh, that's all right. We must all 
 learn — the children won't mind. . . . Susie show the 
 way! 
 
 Susie. Come on, through here. 
 
 [Blythe timidly, and with evident reluctance, 
 takes the two children hy the hand, and he 
 and the tramp obediently follow Susie out of 
 the room. Father Ben left alone, stretches 
 himself, counts the money in his pocket with 
 rather a rueful face, shrugs his shoulders, 
 and finally begins to climb up the steps, 
 evidently meaning to go into the chapel. He 
 is halfway up when there comes a rapid 
 tapping on the window-pane. He does not 
 realise jvhat it is for a moment, but it has 
 obviously happened before. So when the 
 same noise occurs again he smiles broadly 
 and comes down. He goes to the window 
 and throws it open. 
 Father Ben. Well, Kitty, what's up now — not 
 even the back door for you to-night it seems. 
 
 Kitty. [Eagerly]. 'Elp me in, Father. It's a rum 
 go this time ! 
 
 [Elizabeth enters but is waved back by Father Ben. 
 
12 PETER'S CHANCE 
 
 [Father Ben puts a chair against the wall as the 
 window is rather high, and Kitty Roman 
 climbs down on to it. She is tall, well-made 
 and handsome, with bright eyes. She shuts 
 the window first, and looks round siisjnciously . 
 Kitty, [/w a ?vhisper.] I don't want all them others 
 to see me. 
 
 Father Ben. What's the matter ? 
 Kitty. You're the only one as can 'elp, or I 
 wouldn't 'ave come, 'cos it's a rum go and no 
 mistake ! 
 
 Father Ben. Out with it — you needn't be afraid 
 to tell me, you know. 
 
 [Kitty comes close tip to him. 
 Kitty. Well, it's like this. There's been a game 
 on, a silly game as I alius said — Wot's the good 
 of pinching a lot of second-class joolry — I like 
 the big swag, I do — money — thick 'uns — or else 
 di'monds. But the others wouldn't listen, and Peter 
 would go, too. Peter's a new 'and, 'e's only twenty- 
 two [her voice grows soft]. I don't fink 'e's up to the 
 job meself, nor ever will be — but 'e's a bright lad — 
 there ! I'm fond of 'im [she wi7iks], d'y' understand. 
 
 [She pauses. 
 Father Ben. [Interested.] Well.^ Were they 
 caught ? 
 
 Kitty. One was — Joe Price — and 'e's a wrong 'un 
 — do anythink to save is own skin ! 'E's jealous of 
 Peter, and 'e might jump 'im on the beak any 
 day- 
 
PETER^S CHANCE 13 
 
 Father Ben. I don't see why he should tell the 
 police — it won't help him. 
 
 Kitty. I dunno about that — if he sneaks on Peter 
 the beaks'll pat 'im on the back, it'll be recomem- 
 bered at his trial. 'E'll have to do seven stretch, no 
 mistake. This 'aint 'is fust trouble by a long shake, 
 but it might be four years, 'stead of seven, d'yer see ? 
 
 Father Ben. But what can I do ? 
 
 Kitty. You can *elp me to 'ide Peter. 
 
 Father Ben. [Laughing heartily.^ Come, I don't 
 quite see why I should do that. 
 
 Kitty. [More and more eager.] They'd never think 
 to come 'ere, even if they was on his track. 'E could 
 do some jobs for you in the 'ouse, brush yer clothes 
 or clean yer boots. If 'e never went out 'e wouldn't 
 be seen. After a bit, in a couple o' months or so 
 when things was quiet, I'd come and fetch 'im away. 
 Only 'e must come now, the beaks won't know yet — 
 'e must come ter-night ! 
 
 Father Ben. Were Peter and this other, the only 
 two on that job ? 
 
 Kitty. No — there was Bert Smith. 
 
 Father Ben. And who's going to hide him ? 
 
 Kitty. Oh, Bert Smith can look after 'isself. 
 Beside, Joe ain't jealous of 'im ! As like as not the 
 beaks'll never 'ear 'is name. 
 
 Father Ben. Well, Kitty, I think you must find 
 some other place. 
 
 Kitty. [With growing intensity. '\ I can't, I can't 
 do it — look 'ere. [She plays her trump card.] It's 
 
14 PETER'S CHANCE 
 
 like this — Peter's young. 'E ain't been in Stepney 
 more'n a year — 'e comes from the West somewheres 
 — Joe picked 'im up in a doss 'ouse oncet— Peter's 
 a daisy ; 'e's full of go — 'e always 'as the the notions 
 — too many of 'em — a great deal too fast with 'is lips 
 and 'ands. But there it is ! [She becomes still more 
 confidential^ You might save 'im yer reverence, if 
 you 'ad 'im 'ere for a month or two ! 'e might turn 
 pi', give us orl the slip, and blow yer orgin for you ! 
 
 Father Ben. This is bribery, Kitty ! 
 
 Kitty. [Not heeding.^ You've alius been good to 
 me — this isn't the fust time I've come to you, when 
 I'm fair knackered. 'Elp me now. Father — I can't 
 'ave Peter in jail — it 'ud kill 'im it would I You 
 'ide 'im and I swear I'll take 'im out of that job — 
 'e shan't pinch no more — I'll let you get a 'old of 'im, 
 as you 'ave the others — I swear I will. 
 
 Father Ben. Now listen to me, Kitty. You'd 
 promise anything to save Peter, I can see that — and 
 it's the first time I've known you like this — but I 
 don't believe you. If Peter came here, and I got 
 hold of him, as you put it, you'd be jealous — you'd 
 never leave him alone. 
 
 Kitty. [Shrinking.^ Would yer want ter take 'im 
 away from me altogether .'' 
 
 Father Ben. That'd depend — I might 
 
 Kitty. [Suddenly.'] I'll risk it. Father Ben, if you'll 
 take 'im I — I love 'im, that's the truth ! I ain't 
 never cared for any one — not really — before. You 
 know tliat — I couldn't be boss of all them boys as I 
 
PETER'S CHANCE 15 
 
 am it 1 cared for 'em. I'm like you^ 3'er reverence, 
 I can manage 'em — they're afraid o' me, coz they're 
 sweet on me, most on 'em, Peter too — I'd do any- 
 think ^or Peter. 'E's different, 'e's got more 'eadpiece 
 tlian all the rest — more'n me even ! 
 
 Father Ben. [Laughs.] It's quite true you're a 
 little like me — you've got a bit of power about you. 
 [The bell rings loudly for supper.] Now, you must go, 
 if you don't want to be seen. You may bring Peter 
 to-night — in half an hour. I'll have the kitchen door 
 left open, and he can come in from Black Dog Alley. 
 Off you go ! 
 
 Kitty. [Already moving to the window.] I'd like to 
 kiss yer, Father Ben ; you're a good 'un. 
 
 [She climbs up on to the chair, and is out of the 
 
 windoiv in a moment. 
 [Father Ben smiles and makes some exclamation 
 to hiinselj] evidently in doubt, and then turns 
 as the others come in. There enter first 
 Mrs. Jenks, the housekeeper, very fat 
 and good-humoured, carrying in a plateful 
 of buns ; then Susie and Mrs. Chace ; 
 followed by Meatie, the cat's-meat man, 
 rather old, with blinking eyes, and Bodger, 
 a crippled boy of about twenty, with a fine 
 face. At the door stands a young sailor 
 boy, grinning in anticipation of his welcome. 
 Father Ben suddenly catches sight of this 
 lad, and goes forward pulling him by the 
 hand, and bringing him in, 
 
16 PETER^S CHANCE 
 
 Father Ben. Why, Billy Boy, are you home from 
 China ? My boy, my boy, how glad I am to see you ! 
 [He runs his hand through Billy Boy's hair.] Come 
 Elizabeth, here's Billy ! 
 
 Mrs. Jenks. Hasn't he been helpin' me in the 
 kitchen this half-hour.^ He just looked in at the 
 door, and " Here I am," he says, grinning like a split 
 orange. 
 
 [Father Ben has his ann round the hoys neck; 
 he motions to the others to sit down and 
 begin. 
 
 Father Ben. Well, you know Meatie, don't you ? 
 [Meatie jmls out his hand over the chair and 
 shakes Billy's hand, saying ;] 
 
 Meatie. Glad to see you, Billy 
 
 Father Ben. Bodger, you two must be introduced. 
 Here's the jolliest noisiest boy in all the British 
 Navy — and Billy — there's no one can sing a song 
 about the blue waves like Bodger. Why, where' s 
 your tongue, lad ; are you shy } 
 
 Billy. 'Ip 'ip 'ip 'ooray I Three cheers for Father 
 Ben. Three cheers for the old Mission 'ouse, 'Ip 'ip 
 'ooray ! 
 
 Father Ben. That's better ! Billy, you're going 
 to stay here all the time you're on shore. How 
 long have you got ? 
 
 Billy. Six days ! 
 
 Father Ben. Good ! Now for supper, and we'll 
 have a talk after. 
 
PETER'S CHANCE 17 
 
 Billy. Please sir, I've got somethin' for you 
 
 [Rathe?- shyly he pulls out of his pocket an 
 
 enormous and hideous pipe. 
 
 Father Ben. Just look at this, all of you ! 
 
 [Holding it up.] Did you ever see the like .'' Where 
 
 did you get this superb thing, my boy.'^ Was it 
 
 grown in China ? 
 
 Billy. [Shyly.] I bought it off a mate I met in 
 Portsmouth Dock this mornin'. [Elizabeth hursts 
 out laughing.] Now, don't you laugh at me, Mrs. 
 Jenks. I never stopped looking for a present for 
 the Father when I was on shore, but China warn't 
 no good — there ain't nothin' there to buy — but I 
 come on this, soon as I landed. 
 Father Ben. Good for you ! 
 Mrs. Jenks. Come along, little Chin Chin. 
 
 [He and Father Ben join the others. Before 
 sitting down. Father Ben raises his hand 
 and murmurs a grace. 
 
 Father Ben. We're a very small party to-night, 
 but it's just as well, because we're horribly late. 
 How was it, Elizabeth } 
 
 Mrs. Jenks. Well, Father Ben, you were having 
 a private interview with that black-eyed gipsy-girl, 
 and you know you hate being interrupted. 
 
 Father Ben. [Laughing.] Quite right, Elizabeth. 
 I've hopes of Kitty Roman. 
 
 [Susie half gets up when she hears the name. 
 
 SusiK. Kitty ! Kitty Roman ' 'As she been 'ere ? 
 
 B 
 
1^ PETER'S CHANCE 
 
 Father Ben. [Curiously.] Why? Do you know 
 her? 
 
 Susie. Don't you 'ave nothin' to do with 'er — don't 
 you 'ave nothin' to do with 'er — she's a lyin' hussy, 
 she is. She ain't fit to black yer boots. 
 
 Meatik. [Blinking.] She's a fine, strapping sort of 
 girl. I seed her last year at the boys' club. 
 
 Susie. [Still standing and terribly anxious.] Don't 
 you 'ave nothin' to do with 'er. She brings a curse 
 with 'er ! 
 
 Father Ben. [Quietly.] Susie — you go and see 
 what the Rev. Blythe is doing with those infants, 
 will you ? 
 
 [Susie, half-dazed^ goes to the door. She turns 
 again at it, and says once more : 
 
 Susie. Don't you 'ave nothin' to do with 'er. 
 Father ! 
 
 [There is a pause — Father Ben is thinking with 
 puckered brows, 
 
 Mrs. Jenks. 'Ave a little more tea, Bodger? 
 
 Bodger. No, thank you, mum. Won't you, 
 Susie ? 
 
 Meatie. I will! [He pushes forward his mug. 
 
 Mrs. Chace. Wait till you're asked ! 
 
 Meatie. P'r'aps you'd like some more yerself — I 
 don't believe in waiting, I don't. 
 
 Mrs. Chace. You get your manners from the cats, 
 I suppose ! 
 
 Meatie. Well, cats 'as taught me a lot. Since 1 
 got to know cats I've lost my respec' for women. 
 
PETER'S CHANCE 19 
 
 They do scratch and bite too^ in course, but they 
 
 can't talk. [Every one laughs. 
 
 Mrs. Jenks. There, Meatie, here's your tea. Now, 
 
 Mrs. Chace 
 
 [Mrs. Chace hands up her mug, evidently medita- 
 ting a repartee. The door opens and Blythe 
 enters holding the two chidren hy the hand. 
 They are most incongruously dressed — 
 Blythe has made a regular muddle of it. 
 They are washed, but their hair is all fvet 
 and hangs down dankly. Betsy's frock is 
 evidently put on hack to front, and Albert 
 is in a red Jta7inel petticoat and an old covert- 
 coat. Irresistibly the whole company bursts 
 out laughing, Father Ben more heartily 
 than any one. Even Susie, who has come 
 in behind them, joins ifi the general mirth. 
 The noise is too much for poor Albert, who 
 suddenly breaks out crying, chiefly with 
 injured jyride ; he kicks at his petticoat. 
 Father Ben at once picks him up, and with 
 the idmost tenderness soothes him though 
 he goes on laughing, by giving him a lump 
 of sugar, stroking his head, and repeating, 
 " You're a fine little chap, you are " — and 
 so on. The mirth subsides a little. 
 Father Ben. Oh ! Blythe — what made you bring 
 the children down here. They ought to have gone 
 straight to bed — it would have saved you all the 
 trouble of dressing them, too. [He laughs again. 
 
20 PETER'S CHANCE 
 
 Blythe. [Helplessli/.] Well, Mrs. Jenks gave me the 
 clothes, and I thought you meant me to dress them. 
 Father Ben. Bless their hearts ! They've had 
 their supper and they're dropping with sleep — here, 
 Susie, you take them — Blythe sit down and swallow 
 something ; there's only a minute. 
 
 Elizabeth. Here, sir. [Pointing to a chair next her. 
 [Blythe obeys and Elizabeth pours him out tea. 
 Susie. Where are they to sleep, please Father } 
 [Father Ben looks helplessly at Elizabeth for 
 a moment. Elizabeth with a twinkle. 
 Mrs. Jenks. There's a spare bed in Mr. Blythe's 
 room, sir. 
 
 Father Ben. Of course, the very thing ! Blythe 
 you must take care not to wake them. Susie put 
 Betsy in at one end, and Bertie in at the other, 
 d'you see ? 
 
 [At this moment the Tramp enters. He is con- 
 siderably cleaner, but looks very miserable 
 and takes no notice whatever of his children, 
 who pass him in the doorway. 
 Tramp. I've 'ad a bath — and I never want to 'ave 
 another like it. The water wasn't 'ot ! 
 
 Father Ben. And there weren't any bath salts I 
 
 suppose either 
 
 Tramp. I dunno what you mean, but I calls it 
 cruelty to animals to ask a man to wet 'isself all over. 
 I'm a hon'rable man I am, and I went through 
 with it. [He shudders."] But it was 'orrible, I 'aven't 
 had a bath, not all over, since I was a lad — I've 
 
PETER'S CHANCE 21 
 
 washed a bit one time, and a bit another time, and 
 
 me feet 
 
 Father Ben. [Hastili/.] Well, you deserve a drink 
 now, anyway. Elizabeth pour him out a mug. 
 
 [Elizabeth does so and hands it to ike Tramp 
 who looks at it with ineffable disgust. 
 Tramp. Call this a drink. This ain't playing the 
 game ! I 'ad a bath because you said as 'ow you'd 
 give me a drink. D'you call this skilly a drink ? 
 
 [Mus. Chace and Elizabeth have begun to clear 
 a7vay the supper things. 
 This is yer religion, I serpose ! Damned 'iprocsy 
 that's what I calls it. Did I want to come in to yer 
 bloomin' doss 'ouse ? I arst yer for a bit of food and 
 a drink and all I've got in the drink line's a bath. 
 Give me back my kids, I says. Give 'em back. I 
 won't leave 'em 'ere ! Ye're a set of damned, 
 snivelling cheats, that's wot you are. Where are 
 them kids } I'll call in the perlice if you don't 
 give 'em back ! They're in a bath I serpose — pore 
 things — 'Ere your reverend — you fetch 'em down 
 this minit, or I'll summons you at the perlice court 
 for unlawful detention. 
 
 [Father Ben has been looking at him without 
 
 speaking f but now he quite suddenly moves 
 
 forward and takes the man by his collar. 
 
 Father Ben. Now you get out of this! You've 
 
 had a good feed, and a new coat, and I've had enough 
 
 of you ! You go and sleep off your previous drinks 
 
22 PETER^S CHANCE 
 
 in a casual ward^ my man — and you can come here 
 
 in the morning for your children. Get on 
 
 [The man wriggles. 
 Tramp. Call yerself a missionary ; a bally tyrant 
 that's wot you are ! 
 
 [Father Ben simj^ly runs him out of the room, 
 the front door hangs^ and he comes hack 
 7nopping his forehead. 
 Father Ben. There ! I've lost my temper again^ 
 but I couldn't stand that man another second. I bet 
 he beats those wretched little kids. Yes, Elizabeth, 
 we'll see if we can get them away from him to- 
 morrow. Don't be alarmed, Blythe, they shan't be 
 pei-manently in your room. By the way [To Eliza- 
 beth, lowering his voice] leave the back door open 
 to-night while we're in chapel. I'm expecting a new 
 boy, who'll arrive that way. And make up the other 
 bed in my room. [A little cracked hell hegins to ring.] 
 Good heavens, that's chapel. Bodger, my lad, go 
 and get the organ ready. 
 
 [He moves himself towards the curtain hy the 
 stairs. Blythe starts up. 
 Blythe. Shall I fetch my surplice, sir } 
 Father Ben. Never mind for to-night — help me 
 will you ? 
 
 [Blythe very clumsily helj)s Father Ben into 
 his surplice and stole, nominally behind a 
 curtain, hut really in full vieiv. 
 Father Ben. That's right — now I'm ready. Come 
 along, children — follow me. 
 
PETER^S CHANCE 23 
 
 [ When he gets to the stairs he turns and holds up 
 his hand. 
 Father Ben. Peace to you^ and a pure heart for 
 the House of God. 
 
 [He goes up the stairs, followed by all the rest — 
 Blythe with his head bent. Susie comes 
 back just as the last go up. She looks round 
 the room as if frightened, goes to the window 
 and fastens the catch. Then she goes up 
 too. The sound of the organ floats down, 
 and is heard intermittently during the follow- 
 ing scene. After a slight pause the door at 
 the back opens, and Kitty looks in. 
 Kitty. [Speaking in a whisper to some one outside.] 
 No one here neither, but it's all right — j^u come 
 in! 
 
 [Peter enters. He is a tall, good-looking youth, 
 
 with a frank open face, and curly hair. He 
 
 is frowning, and looks uneasy. 
 
 Kitty. I must peel off now — they're all up there, 
 
 and I don't want to be seen. Good-bye, Peter. 
 
 You'll be safe 'ere, and soon as the cry's over, Pll 
 
 come and tell yer. Swear yer won't so much as 
 
 look out o' winder, and never you go out, 'cept in 
 
 the yard. 
 
 Peter. How am I to do without seeing you, 
 Kitty ? 
 
 Kitty. It wouldn't be safe — the beaks know as 
 'ow Pm mixed up with Joe — if they cotched me 
 coming 'ere, they'd foller me. 
 
24 PETER^S CHANCE 
 
 Peter. [Putting his arm round her.] Darned if 1 
 can let yer go my pretty love — ye're the bravest^ 
 sweetest girl in all the country, that you are. 
 
 Kitty. [Pleased.] I 'spect there's lots more like 
 me. 
 
 Peter. No there ain't— not one. If the King of 
 England, with his crown on, was to come and say, 
 Peter my boy, here's ten thousand golden sovereigns 
 for you, I'd say, no thank you, give me Kitty ! 
 
 Kitty. Garn with yer ; 
 
 Peter. [He strokes her hair.] I love yer shiny 
 'air — and yer cheek's soft like a downy plum — and, 
 oh, yer mouth's a scented rose. [He clasps her fondly.] 
 By God if you throw me over Kitty — if yer goes 
 back to that liver-eyed scoundrel Joe Price, I'll kill 
 myself! 
 
 Kitty. [Moved to admiration^ Do you love me 'orl 
 that Peter — do you ? 
 
 Peter. Do I — it's a funny thing, ain't it Kitty, 
 when two people's sweet on one another, they keep 
 wanting to say it over 
 
 Kitty. Love 'er duck we 'aven't got time for that 
 now . . . look 'ere Peter you don't want me to go 
 back on yer do yer.'' [Very fierce.] Well then swear 
 yer won't go back on me ! 
 
 Peter. Back on you— what d'you mean } 
 
 Kitty. I told you ! This is a mission 'ouse. The 
 people 'ere are all oly-bolys. They'll make you go to 
 church, and pray — they'll do their blamed best to 
 turn you pious, and yer easily persuaded Peter, you 
 
PETER'S CHANCE «5 
 
 know y'are. If yer do turn pi — I've done with yer 
 — take that — I ain't got no liking for them snivellin' 
 airs. I'm frightened to leave you 'ere, but it's the 
 only safe place I know. 
 
 Peter. If you'd let me hide in yer room — in the 
 roof over yer pretty head. 
 
 Kitty. That's swank — it'd get round [7vitk a touch 
 of pride] — you forget Peter, there's a lot of fellers 
 after me ! [she laughs] they don't fancy you ! 
 
 Peter. [Ferventlt/.] I'd like to take yer right away 
 somewhere to a island I seed once in a picture, with 
 big tall trees, like walking-sticks, and a stone rail, 
 and the sea so green and shiny, underneath ! Just 
 you and me ! 
 
 Kitty. Why you're turning pi already ! — I don't 
 want no island nor no sea — Peter ! if you and me 
 could make a big haul oncet, we'd live straight we 
 would, and 'ave a little oyster bar where the chaps 
 could come — what d'yer think .^^ [The organ begins to 
 play-] Criky ! I must peel off — [she Jlings her arms 
 round Peter's neck] I love yer Peter, and don't you 
 never forget it. There's a many would swing to 'ear 
 me say that — and don't you look at no other gals — 
 there's all sorts of rum lots 'ere. 
 
 Peter. [Laughs.] Not so rum as you, I spec ! 
 
 Kitty. [Flaming up.] What d'yer mean by that — 
 
 [She clenches her fist and looks as if she were 
 ready to strike him. 
 
 Peter. [Still laughing.] Look at you ' You're 
 
26 PETER'S CHANCE 
 
 rum, cos there ain't no other girl Hke you — too 
 much horse-power — you're dangerous — 
 
 [He pretends to move away frightened. 
 
 Kitty. [MollifiedJ] Gam yer mug — Well , goo' bye. 
 
 I'm going to clear out for a bit. I'll write yer a 
 
 letter and tell yer where I am 
 
 Peter. Don't go and leave me Kitty — Can't you 
 come and see me every day or so — like ? I'd stand 
 by the window and see you pass anyways. 
 
 Kitty. Oh ! Peter, ye'are a biby [earnestly] don't 
 yer see I've got to get yer to a place where the perlice 
 wouldn't never think to look for yer. They might 
 cop me if I come 'ere — and you too. 
 Peter. How long must I stay } 
 Kitty. Oh ! somethin' like two months. 
 Peter. Seems as if I was dyin', Kitty! I hate 
 this place, and everythink in it. 
 
 Kitty. You'll like the 'Oly Father all right. 'E's a 
 good 'un ! When he comes, you tell 'im you're 
 Kitty's Peter — 'e'll know. 
 
 Peter. That's my name is it.^ Kitty's Peter. 
 Well, I likes it. Good-bye, my gal — and you keep 
 true to me and I'll be true to you — true as steel out 
 of the furnace. 
 
 [They kiss one another^ and Kitty gets away 
 just as Elizabeth appeal's on the staircase. 
 Behind her come all the rest. Elizabeth, 
 Billy Boy, Mrs. Chace, Meatie, Susie, 
 and, after a pause, Blythe. Peter moves 
 back into the shadow of the stairs uneasily — 
 
PETER^S CHANCE 27 
 
 he looks embarrassed. Elizabeth, Billy 
 Boy, and Mrs. Chace go straight out. 
 Susie goes to the table, takes off the cloth 
 and begins to fold it. Meatie comes up 
 to her. 
 Meatie. Let me help you, Susie. 
 Susie. You can't — [she laughs'] ; catch hold of the 
 other end, then. [She turns and catches sight of 
 Peter] Why ! — [but Peter looks away. Blythe 
 appears, and Susie, tucking the cloth under her arm, 
 says] Come and get your hat, Meatie. 
 
 [They both go out. 
 [Blythe peers up at the chapel door, but after a 
 minute comes to the conclusion it is no use 
 waiting. He picks up his Gladstone bag, 
 which is in the corner of the room, where he 
 put it when he arrived, and goes out. Peter 
 then emerges ; he looks round curiously and 
 goes to the foot of the stairs. He moves 
 away when he heats Father Ben. The 
 Father comes slowly down — he is still in 
 his prayers, and sees nothing, till at the foot 
 of the staircase he turns into the ^'vestry'' 
 Peter jvatches him astounded and silent. 
 Father Ben reappears without his surplice 
 in his black souta?ie and biretta, and catches 
 sight of Peter. 
 Father Ben. Hallo ! — who are you } 
 Peter. I'm — I'm Peter. 
 Father Ben. Peter } 
 
28 PETER'S CHANCE 
 
 Peter. The one as Kitty Roman spoke to you for. 
 
 Father Ben. Of course. I'm to hide you from 
 the police, ain't I } Well, my boy, let's shake hands. 
 You'll have to make yourself useful here you know. 
 
 Peter. [Who has at once taken an affection for the 
 Father.] I'll do whatever you tell me, yer reverence. 
 
 Father Ben. Well, call me Father to begin with. 
 You're not to go outside I suppose, but I'll find lots 
 for you to do in the house, and you won't be above 
 sweeping and carrying coals and cleaning boots ? 
 
 Peter. [Disregarding and sniffing.^ What's that 
 there smell .^ What is it ? Seems as how I knows it. 
 
 [He goes towards the stairs. 
 
 Father Ben. [Looks at him curiously.^ It's incense. 
 That's the Chapel up there — all misty with it — and 
 the candles still alight on the altar. Would you like 
 to go up and see } 
 
 [Peter goes up two or three steps j and then 
 hesitates. 
 
 Peter. I haven't been inside a church since I was 
 a tiny kid with my mother — I don't know how to 
 behave. 
 
 Father Ben. There's only one thing you need do. 
 
 Peter. [Siispicioiis.'] What's that .f* 
 
 Father Ben. Go on your knees. 
 
 [He comes down the steps again, shaking his head. 
 
 Peter. No fear ! 
 
 [He looks up at the steps half frightened. 
 
 Curtain. 
 
ACT II 
 
 Two months later. The room is the same, hut the big 
 table is against the wall, Roiind the stove, which is 
 lit, are seated Father Ben, m his big arm-chair, 
 smoking, Meatie smoking a little short pipe, the 
 Tramp, and Bodger. 
 
 Father Ben. Well, Meatie ! What happened 
 next ? 
 
 Meatie. If it 'adn't been for Peter, the Rev. 
 Blythe and yours truly would 'ave been knocked 
 down. You never 'eard such a shindy — the boys, 
 
 [^At this moment Peter opens the door of the 
 chapel and comes oid. They all stop talking 
 when they see him, though no one looks at him 
 again. When Peter sees them, he begins to 
 whistle easily, and runs down the stairs, 
 
 Peter. D'you want some more fire, Father } — seems 
 rather cold. 
 
 Father Ben. Oh, I don't think so. . . . Those 
 kids ought to be back from school. Go and find 
 them, Peter — their father is here. 
 
 [Peter putting his hands on Meatie's shoulders 
 affectionately. 
 
 29 
 
30 PETER'S CHANCE 
 
 Peter. All right — we'll have a regular romp we 
 will. 
 
 [As he passex he picks up a box of matches and 
 laughingly shakes it at Father Ben, before 
 he gives it to him and runs out. 
 
 Father Ben. Go on with your story. 
 
 Meatie. The tables was all upside down — some of 
 the chairs was broke already. The old boys in the 
 club they did their best, but t'other lot was too 
 strong for 'em. They druv the Rev. Blythe into 
 a corner — 'e'd been reading the yearly report to 
 'em, and 'e 'ad been a bit thirsty like over the 
 money part — wot do ye call that paper, Bodger } 
 
 BoDGER. The balance sheet ? 
 
 Meatie. Yes, that's it, ballince sheet. The boys 
 called out, " That's all swank ! " they says " Dry up ! " 
 they says. The Rev. he couldn't do nothing, no more 
 couldn't I, when all of a sudden Peter, 'e jumps up 
 on to the table and begins to talk. Golly 'e did talk ! 
 First they wouldn't listen, but he got 'em. " Why," 
 says he, "you're be'aving like a lot of silly gals," ses 
 he, " 'aving a row in the street, and I know a gal as 
 could do this job a lot better'n you. If she wanted 
 to turn a man out she'd git one of 'er pals to do it 
 quick and neat and no bleeding, but you're only fit 
 to bellow." Then he arst 'em if they wanted to 
 break up the club, and in course, they all roared 
 " No," and he went on and on, and my ! at the end 
 if 'e didn't arst the Rev Blythe to start a hymn. 
 
PETER'S CHANCE 31 
 
 Everythin' was as quiet as a mouse ; 'e's got stuff in 
 'im, that boy 'as. 
 
 BoDGER. [Looking at Father Ben.] Did you know. 
 Father, that he's often in the chapel when I'm 
 practising ? He loves the music he says, and [hesitat- 
 ijigl he wants you to let him help some day — light the 
 candles or something — — 
 
 [Father Ben sai/s nothings hut goes on smoking. 
 Then after a pause he speaks. 
 
 Father Ben. You're fond of him too, then, like 
 all the rest of us ? 
 
 Bodger. Oh, I am ! I am ! 
 
 Tramp. I don't think much of 'im meself. [He 
 begins to refill his pipe]. I know his sort, ready to walk 
 to London from the Land's End, or from London to 
 York, but soon drops be'ind. 
 
 Bodger. [Shi/l^.] Well, I think it's a good thing to 
 want to start anyway. [Father Ben nods approval. 
 
 Tramp. [Annoyed.] Wot d'yer mean by that } Are 
 yer pokin' at me } I'm starting all right, I am — no one 
 can say as I don't do me twenty mile a-day — some- 
 times — that's work, that is ! [He gets up. 
 
 Father Ben. What do you think about when 
 you're on the tramp ? 
 
 Tramp. I don't do much thinkin'. I feels the 
 wind and goes with it if I can — and I keeps a look 
 out for a likely 'ouse to get a bit o' food off — I'm glad 
 my job 'ere's finished — I shall go to the north country, 
 now I'm free of the kids. 
 
32 PETER'S CHANCE 
 
 Father Ben. Don't be too long away or they'll 
 forget you. 
 
 Tramp. P'r'aps that'd be a good job. [A pause.] 
 Look 'ere Father. I've sat by this blinkin' fire day 
 after day for close on two months — and you've 
 never once talked about your bloomin' religion to 
 me. 'ovv is it — and you a parson ? 
 
 [There is a pause, and then Father Ben takes 
 out his pipe. 
 
 Father Ben. Talk religion to you — I should 
 rather think not — religion's not made to be talked 
 about to people like you. 
 
 Tramp. [Sullenly.'] I s'pose you think I'm bound 
 for 'ell ! 
 
 Father Ben. I'll tell you what I do think — you 
 ought to be thankful there's such a place as hell for 
 you to go to ! [Father Ben laughs as he looks at 
 Bodger.] Now, Bodger, don't be shocked— there's 
 a great many of us would be the better for a bit of 
 hell I expect — Hullo, what's this noise } 
 
 [He turns as a great stamping and shouting 
 comes from the passage. The door bursts 
 open, and the two children canter in as 
 ponies, driven by Peter with some reins 
 improvised out of string. The pretended 
 coach draws up sharp in front of Father 
 Ben, and the children forget they are ponies 
 and climb over him. They look clean a?id 
 happy. 
 
PETERS CHANCE 33 
 
 Bertie. Peter druv us when we come 'ome from 
 school. 
 
 Betsy. Teacher said as 'ow I did me substraction 
 better nor any one. 
 
 Bertie. Get on ! don't you be so uppish. Teacher 
 said as 'ow we warn't to forget everythink in the 
 'ohdays. 'Urrah, 'olidays to-morrow — come on 
 Betsy. 
 
 [He drags her hy the arm, picks up the reins and 
 becomes coachman himself. 
 
 Peter. Whatever shall we do with the little 
 varmints now Xmas has begun ? 
 
 Father Ben. Well, Peter, you'll have to invent 
 something. 
 
 Peter. [In a whisper.] I'm getting on fine with 
 the Xmas tree. Bodger, here, has made some lovely 
 chains and things with silver paper, and Meatie's 
 give me some oranges 
 
 Father Ben. That's right. [The Tramp moves 
 away.] Are you going ? 
 
 Tramp. Yes, Pm off — it won't break your 'eart I 
 'spec' nor the children's neither — they don't want 
 me no more. 
 
 Father Ben. Ah! but you've got to pay, my 
 man, don't you forget that. Unless you hand me 
 over half your earnings I shall summon you. 
 
 Tramp. Well, Pll look in to-morrow 'fore I 
 start. [He slouches out ivithout saying anything to 
 any one. At the door he turns.] I don't say as 'ow I 
 
34 PETER'S CHANCE 
 
 should mind if you give them kids a touch of religion. 
 So long ! 
 
 [hi the meantime an organ has begun to play 
 outside, which calls irresistibly to the 
 children. 
 Betsy. Come on, Bertie. 
 
 [They both stand opposite one another, and dance 
 in the grave way with neat definite steps as 
 the London children do, round and round 
 each other. Peter claps in time, and after 
 a little so does Meatie, and then Meatie 
 and Peter dance too. By this time 
 Elizabeth and Susie and Mrs. Chace 
 have all appeared at the doorway and are 
 looking on laughing. 
 Peter. Come on, Mrs. Jenks. 
 Mrs. Jenks. Get along with you, you young 
 imperance. 
 
 Father Ben. Elizabeth does not dance with any 
 one but me, and I'm not in evening dress. 
 
 Susie. Dance yer clapping dance, Peter — this 
 tune'll do ! 
 
 Mrs. Chace. I used to dance the 'ornpipe once in 
 a sailor's suit. 
 
 [Peter begins, but at the best moment the organ 
 stops, and the dance ends in laughter. 
 Mrs. Chace. Oh ! 'e's been moved on — drat it ! 
 Mrs. Jenks. Now then, come on Bert and Betsy, 
 your teases are all ready. 
 
 [Mrs. Chace and Susie go away. 
 
PETER'S CHANCE S6 
 
 Bertie. Peter — Peter, you come too. 
 
 Betsy. I want Mr. Meatie. 
 
 [Betsy, Bert, Mrs. Jenks, and Meatie, dragged 
 hy Betsy, go out laughing. 
 
 Father Ben. Bodger dear — ^just go and find 
 Blythe for me will you } Peter — stop a minute. 
 
 [BoDGER goes. 
 
 Father Ben. Peter, my lad, the brass hanging 
 lamps in the chapel want cleaning — would you like 
 to do them instead of Susie } 
 
 Peter. [With a beaming face.] May I, Father? — I 
 been wantin' to tell yer — to say thank yer. 
 
 [He turns away moved. 
 
 Father Ben. I know just what you're feeling, 
 Peter. Stick to it, my boy, stick to it, and don't 
 talk too much about it. You can see how fond we 
 all are of you. [Enter Blythe with a ledger hook under 
 his arm.^ Oh, there you are, Blythe. [Peter goes 
 straight up to the chapel.^ Have you got that state- 
 ment ready } [Blythe pale and anxious but important. 
 
 Blythe. I'm sorry to tell you, Father Bentley, 
 that the Mission is quite insolvent. 
 
 Father Ben. Do you mean we are in debt, or 
 that we haven't any available cash } 
 
 Blythe. I mean both. I hope you will come to 
 the study and look at the books. You owe some- 
 thing like £300, you haven't got a penny ready cash 
 — the money you expect at New Year is already 
 pledged — and you have to pay rent next week. 
 
 Father Ben. Phew — ! Well, don't be distressed. 
 
S6 PETER'S CHANCE 
 
 Blythe ; you're invaluable^ my dear fellow, in these 
 matters. We shall have everything in fine order 
 soon. The only difficulty is how to get straight now. 
 I knew there'd be a shortage, so I've made arrange- 
 ments to go and see two or three of my rich friends 
 this very day. I shall try and get back for evensong 
 to-morrow, if possible ; if not, then on Christmas 
 Eve. Come and help me put my things together, 
 and I'll dictate a few letters to you before I start. 
 Blythe. Certainly, sir, with pleasure. 
 
 [They go out as Peter comes do?vn the stairs 
 carrying one of the srvinging brass lamps. 
 It is shaped like a censer, and still has a 
 light burning and a wick floating on oil in 
 a red glass. When he gets down he blows 
 out the light, and then pulls forward a small 
 table and puts the lamp on it. He goes 
 behind the curtain and brings out a piece 
 of leather, whistling as he does so, and sets 
 to work, but after a moment he realises that 
 he is not making much headway. He is 
 perplexed and ?vorried about it. He goes 
 to the door, opens it, and calls. 
 Peter. Susie ! Susie ! Do come here a minit. 
 [Susie ajypears. Peter a little embarrassed.^ Look 
 here, the Father's arst me to clean these 'ere lamps 
 
 and I dunno 
 
 Susie. Out o' the chapel ? [Peter 7iods his head 
 easily. Susie 7vith a beaming face.] Oh ! I am glad ! 
 Peter. Why ? D'you hate doin' of 'em ? 
 
PETER'S CHANCE Si 
 
 Susie. No ! But — oh, Peter — it means the Father 
 believes in yer at last. 'E's taken a long time. 
 
 Peter. [Sobered.] Small blame to him. 
 
 Susie. He's the best man in the 'ole world is 
 Father Ben — you don't know — I've lived 'ere now 
 for more'n a year, and I seed him ill, and I seed 
 him 'appy, and I seed him bothered ! But 'e's 
 always the same to us. If I could 'elp 'im by doin' 
 it, I'd lie down in the mud for 'im. I wonder wot 
 makes 'im like that. 
 
 Peter. It's his faith, that's what it is — he told me 
 hisself — he said as how it was the grace of God. 
 
 Susie. [Indignant.] Yuss, 'e says that, but it isn't 
 true ! 'E was born good — I know — Lor' bless me, 
 Peter, you'll never get them lamps clean like that — 
 why, you 'aven't got no powder. 
 
 Peter. [Reproachfully.] I told you I didn't know — 
 that's why I called you. 
 
 Susie. I'll fetch it. [She goes behind the curtain 
 and brings out a saucer with a little water and some 
 jioivder.] 'Ere, let me show you — like this. [She shows 
 him^ and Peter laughs and at once begins to work at it. 
 
 Susie. [Sitting down.] I'll 'elp you a bit. 
 
 Peter. Susie, do you mind if I ask you a question } 
 
 Susie. [A little frightened.] No — not much. 
 
 Peter. Everybody seems to have come here out of 
 some trouble — I know all the stories now. Did you 
 ever hear Meatie was a regular drunkie once — and 
 Bodger ? 
 
 Susie. I'm sure Bodger never did nothing wrong. 
 
38 PETER^S CHANCE 
 
 Peter. Bodger didn't love nobody — that's all. 
 Now — [He looks at Susie^ smiling] — well, there's one 
 he loves, any way — one he'd give his life for, only he 
 hasn't any heart to speak — that's my question, 
 Susie ! 
 
 Susie, Don't — I'm not for 'im — nor no one. Pve 
 done with love for ever and ever. [She trembles 
 violently,] I should ha' been dead by now if it 'adn't 
 been for the Father — you think I'm good, Peter, but 
 I'm not — there was a gal who took away my man — 
 'e was straight enough when I was with 'im, but she 
 got at 'im — she taught 'im to drink — she got 'im 
 away from me. That was when I tried to drown 
 meself. 
 
 Peter. Oh, Susie ! 
 
 Susie. I'm all right when I don't think about 'im ; 
 but sometimes it comes over me as 'ow I'd like to be 
 in the river still ! 
 
 Peter. [Puts his hands on her shoulders.] You musn't 
 say such like things ; what'd the Father think of 
 you ? 
 
 Susie. I don't tell him — 'e wants me to be 'appy, 
 he does, and I want 'im to be happy, too. Not that 
 nothin'd ever give 'im the 'ump. [Pointing to chapel.] 
 'E's only got to go up there, seemingly, and 'e's all 
 right. 
 
 Peter. Don't you get no comfort out of that 
 yourself ? 
 
 Susie. [Shaking her head sadly.] Sometimes I seem 
 to, but only for a minit. 
 
PETER'S CHANCE 39 
 
 Peter. [Eagerly.] Hold on to it, then — it'll come. 
 
 Susie. 'Ow do you know ? 
 
 Peter. 'Cos it's come to me. 
 
 Susie. Whatever do you mean } 
 
 Peter. Seems as if I must tell you — you won't 
 laugh — nor tell no one, will you ? 
 
 Susie. Go on. 
 
 Peter. Well, it happened like this. The other 
 night, when I was in there [^pointing to the chapel] 
 Bodger was playing one of them slow twistin' tunes. 
 Seems like as if you was clim]i)in' up a ladder ; and 
 he'd just sort o' got to the top when I begin fallin', 
 fallin' down off of the ladder into the dark. I was 
 that frightened, I was all of a sweat ; and then, Susie, 
 what do you think ? Seemed as how I was held up 
 by two arms — strong and soft, they was — the Ever- 
 lasting Arms — I knew they was, Susie — I knew it. 
 
 \He can hardly go on ; he pulls his hand across 
 his eyes. 
 
 Susie. [AJ'ter a pause, first of incredulity thefi of 
 imagination.] Well, I never — I wish something like 
 that would happen to me. 
 
 Peter. It's all Father Ben — he made me go up 
 there with him, and 
 
 Susie. 'Aven't you got no mother, Peter ? 
 
 Peter. No. She's dead, she is, two years ago. 
 We used to live down Bristol way. I sold apples in 
 the street, and mother, she made a bit ; but after — 
 that's how I come to London — I hadn't no money nor 
 no work — so I come to London. 
 
40 PETER^S CHANCE 
 
 Susie. Yes ? 
 
 Peter. I wanted a bit o' fun. I ought to have 
 been a soldier or a sailor and gone across the sea. 
 That'd have saved me. 
 
 Susie. What 'appened ? 
 
 Peter. Well, I betted on the 'orses. I used to 
 dream the winners at first, but it didn't work after 
 a bit — and then I had no money — and then — I — I 
 pinched it — I got in with a gang. Don't you 
 know why I'm here .'* 
 
 Susie. No ? people is always a-comin' and goin' 'ere 
 an' no questions asked. Course I guessed there was 
 a bit o' trouble somewheres — you never going out- 
 side. The Father's only said you was waiting for a 
 situation. 
 
 Peter. [With a touch of legitimate jyride.] Vm 
 wanted by the police. I should be in jail now by 
 rights. 
 
 Susie. D'yer mean to tell me the Father's a 'idin' 
 of yer. Whatever made 'im do that ? 
 
 Peter. It was a pal o' mine— a gal — she asked 
 him 
 
 Susie. A gal [She pauses, thinking rapidly.'\ 
 
 Peter, was you brought 'ere by Kitty Roman ? 
 
 [She shrinks hack. 
 Peter. Yes — d'you know her } 
 
 [Susie turns away in disgust — her hands are 
 trembling. 
 
 Susie. Do I know 'er. [She laughs a little wildly.j 
 
PETER'S CHANCE 41 
 
 Well, you're not the first to be got 'old of by Kitty 
 Roman. 
 
 \The extreme bitterness of her tone makes Peter 
 realise. He hesitates. 
 
 Peter. Susie ! was she the one as took your man 
 — was she ? 
 
 Susie. I told you before she's a bad lot. 
 
 Peter. Did Kitty — was — was she fond of your 
 feller } 
 
 Susie. [Dulli/.] She never left 'im alone till she 
 got 'im — but nothing lasts with 'er. 
 
 Peter. [Eagerly.'] She's give him up then } 
 
 Susie. Don't ask me — you oughter know. 
 
 Peter. Yes, I do know. [Pause.'] You mustn't 
 hate her, Susie. She's been in that life from the 
 start. She doesn't know no better. And every man 
 can't help but love her. 
 
 Susie. \Harshly.] I suppose you do too, like all 
 the rest ! 
 
 Peter. I suppose I do. 
 
 Susie. [With an effort.] Wot is it, Peter — tell me 
 'ow she does it ? I've seed 'er 'eaps o' times, with 
 all them wild boys round 'er — ready to do anythink 
 she tells 'em. 
 
 Peter. I dunno — she's just Kitty. She makes 
 everythink so jolly where she is ! She's like a bit 
 of glass in the sun — you know, shinin' and glisterin* 
 — other people seem dull after her. 
 
 Susie. Yus, that's just what my man used ter say. 
 
42 PETER^S CHANCE 
 
 She'll throw yer off too_, Peter, when she's done with 
 yer. 
 
 Peter. No, she won't ; I don't b'lieve it ? She 
 promised to be true to me — and I'm going to take 
 her away from all that life, and bring her here, and 
 make the Father talk to her. 
 
 Susie. [Sullejili/.] It won't be no use. 
 Peter. You've no call to say that. The Father, 
 he's got a hold on people worse'n her, by a long way. 
 Susie. [Siillenly.] It won't be no use — you'll only 
 come under 'er again, Peter, that's all. 
 
 Peter. No, I shan't. Nothing can't shake me 
 now. I've come out of all that. 
 
 Susie. Don't you never see Kitty Roman no more, 
 I tell you. 
 
 Peter. I'm not afraid. You'll see. I'm expecting 
 her any day now — there [holding up his lamp] that 
 looks a bit different, don't it ? 
 
 [Father Ben's voice ontside is heard calling 
 
 " Peter | " " Peter ! " and he enters with a 
 
 little hag in his hand. 
 
 Father Ben. Susie, my dear, I see the box has 
 
 got some letters in it — just fetch them for me — and 
 
 you, Peter, get out my overcoat, and give it a brush. 
 
 [?KTmL fetches a coat from the vestry and begins 
 
 to brush it. Susie brings the letters. 
 
 Father Bentley looks through them 
 
 rapidly^ handing them back to Susie as he 
 
 goes. 
 
 Father Ben. Blythe I Blythe ! Blythe ! What's 
 
PETER'S CHANCE 43 
 
 this. [He opens it] Oh, only another bill. That'll do 
 for Blythe^ too ! Hallo, I know this writing. [He 
 opens itJ] Yes ! hooray, a bank note for £9,0. That's 
 first-rate. [He puts it down on the table.] I must write 
 a letter myself about it, but take all the rest to 
 Blythe and say I wish him joy of the job. Good-bye, 
 Susie. [He puts his hand on her shoulder. 
 
 Susie. [In a tone of dismay.] Are you goin* away } 
 
 Father Ben. Only for a day, or possibly two. 
 
 Susie. Don't be away more'n one night. Father. 
 [Father Ben laughs kindly and pats her on the 
 head. She hurries out. Meanwhile Peter 
 picks up the hank note and examines it 
 carefully. 
 
 Peter. [Solemnly.] I am glad about this — it's a 
 answer to my prayer. 
 
 Father Ben. [Dryly.] What prayer } 
 
 Peter. 1 prayed for ten minutes you might have 
 some money sent yer. 
 
 Father Ben. Oh ! when } 
 
 Peter. After Matins. 
 
 Father Ben. Well, this was posted last night. 
 So you can't have had much to do with it. I don't 
 suppose you've got any special knack of getting 
 answers you know. 
 
 [Father Ben laughs, and so does Peter. Peter 
 helps him on with his coat. 
 
 Peter. Now you've got a bit of money you had 
 ought to have a new coat. Father Ben. This one's a 
 caution ! 
 
44 PETER'S CHANCE 
 
 Father Ben. [Examining it,] Come, I don't think 
 it's so bad. 
 
 Peter. Nothing matters when you stand up and 
 look grand like that ; but you don't take care of yer 
 figger. Father. 
 
 Father Ben. [Laughing.] Never you mind about 
 my figure I Peter, I want you while I'm away to 
 work a bit at your bible ; don't drop it just because 
 I'm not here. 
 
 Peter. I shan't never drop it — never. 
 
 Father Ben. I wonder — and there's another 
 thing I must say before I go. Have you got any 
 plan about the future ? That girl said she'd come 
 for you just about now. [He stops Peter, 7vho is about 
 to speak eagerly, 7vitk a gesture.] I know you want to 
 make a fresh start — you needn't tell me that, my 
 boy. But I should like to keep you here with me a 
 bit longer — then I'd find you a good job not too far 
 off. What do you say to that ? 
 
 Peter. I'd stay with you the 'ole of my life if you'd 
 let me, I've never been happy before. 
 
 Father Ben. [Looking at him affectionately.] Well, 
 I want you to be happy, so that's all right. But 
 there's a condition you know. If you are to stay 
 here, you must cut loose from Kitty Roman and her 
 following. [Peter seems to turn cold. 
 
 Peter. Not see Kitty ! I can't Father Ben — I 
 can't — I love her, you knows I do, and she loves me 
 — I want you to get a hold of her too — she's all ready 
 for it. Why the last time I seed her in this very 
 
PETERVS CHANCE 45 
 
 room she talked about keeping straight, and me and 
 her settin' up together in a shop some day. If I'm 
 to live straight — what about Kitty ? She must live 
 straight too. I'll soon win her over if you let me 
 see her. 
 
 Father Ben. You leave Kitty to me — you're a 
 weakling, Peter — and she's strong. She's much 
 more likely to win you over — no_, no 
 
 Peter. [Eamestli/.] You don't take on, Father, that 
 I'm not the same now — Kitty 
 
 Father Ben. If Kitty were to come in and laugh 
 at you a little, you'd go. 
 
 Peter. [Feri/ vehement.] You don't believe in me 
 — you don't. Do you think anythink would make 
 me go back on you now ? I couldn't steal again, 
 not if a Archangel was to tell me to. I tell you 
 I believe in living straight now — I believe in — all 
 that up there. 
 
 [Jerking his head towards the chapel. 
 
 Father Ben. Yes ! I think you do. But I know 
 you better than you know yourself. You're too easy, 
 Peter — you want to please every one — ^just now you 
 want to please me — when I'm not there you'll want 
 to please Kitty— sure as Fate you'll slip back if you 
 let that girl get at you again. 
 
 Peter. It's not true — it's not true. I can get 
 Kitty to follow. I'm a' goin' to tell her all the 
 things what you've taught me, all about the Lord 
 dyin' for me and lovin' us — and I'll tell the chaps 
 too — see if I don't — I'll bring you a crowd. The 
 
46 PETER'S CHANCE 
 
 Mission won't hold them — I could shake them — I 
 know I could. I could see as there wasn't a bad 
 boy left in Stepney — not a apple left on the ground. 
 
 [He stops breathless. 
 Father Ben. Peter — Peter — and two months ago 
 yon were a thief yourself ! 
 
 Peter. [Turns away almost in tears.'] Yes I was. 
 I knows I was — but isn't a chap never to be changed 
 — wont no one never believe in me — what's the good 
 of any think } You haven't got no trust in me — you 
 think I'm a thief in my heart still — I knows 
 you do. 
 
 Father Ben. [Eagerly.'] No^ that I don't ! [he puts 
 his arm round the boys neck] and I'll prove it to you. 
 Put this note into your pocket and keep it for me 
 till I come back. It'll be safer than in my pocket 
 for I'm a bad hand at keeping money ! And now 
 good-bye and God bless you. We'll talk of all this 
 again. Good-bye, my boy — Where's my bag } 
 
 [He turns to go and in the doorway meets Susie 
 who has a hat on and carries the bag in one 
 hand, and an umbrella and rug over her arm. 
 Peter stands still looking at the note and 
 does not turn. 
 Susie. [Jauntily.] I'm coming to the station with 
 you. 
 
 Father Ben. No, no ! Give me the bag, Susie, I 
 
 shall carry it myself. [Susie, very unwilling, gives it up. 
 
 Susie. I shall carry this lot anyways. Plenty of 
 
 time to get back and lay the tea. [Father Ben laughs. 
 
PETER^S CHANCE 47 
 
 Father Ben. All right, don't let Elizabeth blame 
 me, that's all. 
 
 Susie. She's out 'erself. 
 
 [They both go out, Peter is still looking at the 
 note he holds, moved hy conflicting emotions. 
 He folds it tip carefully, puts it in his 
 jwcket and turns half bewildered towards 
 the stairs. He does not go up, but stands 
 with bowed head irresolute and miserable. 
 Susie runs into the rootn breathlessly and 
 goes straight to the table. 
 Susie. The Father's forgot his bag of papers. 
 
 [As she turns she is struck by Peter's attitude. 
 Susie. Whatever's the matter, Peter — what is 
 
 it ? [Peter turns on her quickly. 
 
 Peter. You do believe in God, Susie — you don't 
 think as how it's all nothin' what Father Ben 
 says } 
 
 Susie. 'E knows — 'e does 
 
 Peter. And you believe in me — say you do — I 
 want to know as how you believe in me. 
 
 Susie. In course I do. I ain't never believed in 
 anybody so much afore. 
 
 Peter. I want to feel strong — that's what I want, 
 Father Ben's right — I've got to feel strong. That's 
 it — strong! [He pauses.^ 
 
 Susie. I mus' go Peter, the Father must 'ave 'is 
 papers, but it's all right — don't be down'earted — 
 don't you worrit — go and fetch another of them 
 lamps to clean — see ? 
 
48 PETERS CHANCE 
 
 [She runs out and Peter already happier goes 
 up the stairs. After a moment Kitty 
 comes in through the open door, having Jirst 
 peeped in at the window. 
 
 Kitty. Peter, Peter, it's me, Kitty. [She comes 
 right m.] I know you're somewheres, cause I seed 
 yer through the winder. There was no one about 
 in the yard, so I stepped in — Come on ! Wiiere are 
 yer.^ 
 
 [With a smile she goes and looks behind the 
 curtain, hut comes out disappointed. She 
 walks all round till she comes to the foot of 
 the stairs, then she stops still, straining every 
 nerve to listen. After a little she very, very 
 quietly creeps up the stairs — looks into the 
 chapel where she sees Peter on his knees — 
 and still more quietly creeps do?v?i again 
 with an expression of amazement on her face. 
 She sits down in one of the arm-chairs, puts 
 her feet near the stove, and makes up her 
 mind to wait. Her expression changes 
 gradually to scorn, and as the time drags, to 
 sullenness ; and, when she hears Peter 
 coming downstairs, to anger. She gets up 
 and stealthily moves to the foot of the 
 stairs. Peter carries in his hand the 
 second lamp from the chapel. 
 
 Kitty. [In a hard voice.'] Hello, Peter ! [He is so 
 startled that he drops the lamp. It falls with a great 
 
PETER^S CHANCE 49 
 
 clatter on the stairs and he stands stock still. A long 
 pause.] What yer a-doin' up there ? 
 
 Peter. [After a mome?ifs hesitation.] I was only 
 fetchin' this 'ere lamp. 
 
 KiTTv. Um — so that's why you goes up them, steps ? 
 
 Peter. I'm cleaning of *em — that's the other one 
 on the table. 
 
 [Half ashamed he stoops to pick up the lamp, 
 and then comes down and puts it on the table. 
 
 Kitty. [Without moving.] It's a lie — I saw yei' — 
 kneeling. 
 
 Pet£r. [Sullenly.] I was lookin' for the bloomin' 
 wick. 
 
 Kitty. Was yer now ? Funny thing to *ide yer 
 eyes, then. 
 
 Peter. [Angry.] Wot d'yercome spyin' on me for.? 
 Wot if I was prayin' — why shouldn't I } 
 
 [Kitty bursts out laughing. 
 
 Kitty. Prayin' — oh, Lor' — prayin' — you ! Peter 
 Grieve — the boy wot bets on every 'orse — the boy 
 wot gets drunk when 'e can — the boy what pinches 
 — the boy wot runs after all the gals — oh, lor ! oh, 
 lor! [She pretends to rock with laughter.] God's not 
 so down on yer as the beaks — you don't 'ave to 
 'ide from 'im — no questions asked, I serpose, and 
 no offence taken. [She comes close to him.] Ye're a 
 'umbug, Peter, that's what you are — a 'umbug and a 
 coward — so there. 
 
 Peter. [Seising her wrist.] Say that again — say it 
 again and I'll teach yer ! 
 
5a PETER'S CHANCE 
 
 [Kitty, not in the least afraid, laughs in his face, 
 and he drops her arm suddenly. 
 Peter. [After a pause.'] It's all true. The Father's 
 got me — God's got me — I'm caught. I'm done for 
 — there's no hiding from this. 
 
 [He sits down at the table with his back to her 
 and covers his face. 
 Kitty. I was a darned fool to bring you 'ere. I 
 alius know'd you was a-up-and-down sort of a chap, 
 but blimey, I never thought to see yer take on like 
 this. It's being afraid wot does it — chick en-'earted 
 — that's it. 
 
 [Peter looks straight in front of him with a 
 miserable expression, but does not speak. 
 Kitty. I'd come to fetch you back to-night, Peter. 
 The cry's all quiet. There's a lot of the chaps comin' 
 you know where. I couldn't seem to 'ave no swing 
 about it wivout you, so I thinks to meself, I'll fetch 
 Peter this very night I will — and here I am ! 
 
 [She comes up to him and puts her arms round his 
 neck, and kneels down beside him. Peter 
 melts completely, catches hold of Kitty 
 and kisses her almost fiercely, over and over 
 again. 
 Kitty. [Softly.] Come along, chen, Peter. . . . 
 
 It's late, and we can slip off quiet now 
 
 Peter. I can't Kitty — don't ask me to — I can't — 
 I've promised the Father I'd stay here. 
 
 Kitty. Stay 'ere — 'ow long } D'yer mean to 
 
PETER^S CHANCE 51 
 
 Peter. I'm going to run straight, and I want to 
 get you into it. The Father '11 let you come here, 
 too, if I ask him, I knows he will. 
 
 Kitty. [Getting up from her kneesJ] Oh ! will 'e 1 
 Thank yer for nix. 
 
 [She walks away. 
 
 Peter. [Following her.] I love you more nor ever I 
 did, Kitty. Don't turn yer back on me. I haven't 
 spent a day, nor a hour, without thinkin' of you and 
 longing after you. 
 
 Kitty. [With a sneer.] And prayin' fer me, I 
 suppose. 
 
 Peter. [His words coming with a great rush.] And 
 if I was, what's the harm } It can't do you no harm 
 — you think it's all swank, but it ain't — I know ! 
 There's some one after us always — it's God ! I tell 
 you I've felt Him, and I've sat up in my bed in 
 the dark and it's all been full of Him — and in the 
 chapel too. You don't know what it's like, the 
 orgin rolling along, and the incense — and gold plates 
 and things, and all them twinklin' lights — O Kitty ! 
 you come along with me. I'll show you. Our 
 Blessed Lord's waitin' for us. He forgives you — 
 and me — and all of us. 
 
 [Peter stops, choked by his own emotion. 
 
 Kitty. [After a pause.] Werry kind of 'im, I'm 
 sure ! But I don't want no forgivin'. I'm not 
 frightened, I'm not — it's all a bogey the 'ole thing 
 — and you're a silly kid wot's afraid. [She yawns, 
 
62 PETER'^S CHANCE 
 
 and stretches herself. Peter moves away from her.'\ 
 Joe's comin' to-night ; 'es out of chokey now, only 
 got two months after all. 
 
 Peter. Joe out of jail ! 
 
 Kitty. [Coolly.'] Yuss — 'e didn't turn pious — the 
 Chaplain talked to 'im, but lor ! Joe ! — nothing'd 
 move 'im ! [After a pause.] I serpose I shall 'ave to 
 take up with 'im again now yer've rucked on me ! 
 
 Peter. I won't have it ! 
 
 Kitty. You won't 'ave it. Wot's the good of you ? 
 I thought you was a man, I did. 'Ow are yer going 
 to stop it, I'd like ter know } You're going to live 
 'ere with all the 'oley-boleys — and I wish you joy 
 of 'em. I've done my best for yer, I 'ave. I've got 
 nothing to blame meself about. I've kep' you often, 
 and fed yer, and got yer out of scrapes, and I've 
 been a big bit too fond of yer — you weren't worth it. 
 But I've done with yer now — taike that in — done 
 with yer, and I'm on with Joe ! 
 
 [She begins to move away. Peter catches hold 
 of her. 
 
 Peter. You shan't go, Kitty — you shan't go with- 
 out me — I'll come to your bloomin' party to-night. 
 I'm not going to let you go to hell ! 
 
 [Kitty looks at him mockingly. 
 
 Kitty. I expec' Joe'd taike me there if I wanted ! 
 
 Peter. [In a scuffle.] Where's me cap } [He finds 
 
 it in his pocket] Now [He turns up his coat collar. 
 
 Fastening up his coat i^eminds him of the hank note. His 
 hand closes on it in his jjocket.] Wait a minit. 
 
PETER^S CHANCE 53 
 
 [He takes out the note and looks round for a place 
 to hide it. 
 Kitty. [Sharpli/.] Wot's that yer've got — lemme 
 
 see 
 
 Peter. You leave it alone ! 
 
 [But Kitty has snatched it from him. She 
 laughs and looks at it. 
 Kitty. Why, it won't fall to pieces because I 
 touches it. Whew ! twenty quid ! That's a lot — 
 whose is it .'' 
 
 Peter. Never you mind — you give it back to me. 
 Kitty. [Holding it away from him.^ Wot ye're 
 going to do wiv it .'' 
 
 Peter. It don't belong to me, I tell you. 
 
 [They scuffile a little. 
 
 Kitty. Auh ! It's the 'oly Father's, I serpose. 
 
 Well ! can't I keep it jus' as well as you } 'Ere goes ! 
 
 [She tucks it into her dress.^ You've only got to come 
 
 and taike it — it's quite safe 'ere ! 
 
 Peter. You give it back ! 
 
 Kitty. [Flinging her arms round his neck.] Oh, 
 Peter, Peter, don't yer be afraid ! It's you I want, 
 not the paper money. You come along o' me, and 
 you shall 'ave it back, and anythink else you want 
 for the asking — come along. 
 
 [She pulls him by the hand. It is almost dark in 
 the room hy now. 
 Peter. [Hoarsely,] Will you listen to me, Kitty, if 
 I come ? I want to keep straight, I do. 
 
 Kitty. Yes, I'll listen to you — you've been 'iding 
 
54 PETER^S CHANCE 
 
 'ere. Come and 'ide with me — I know 'ow to do it. 
 
 I wouldn't ha' stood as much from any one of 'em 
 
 but I'm a fool for you, Peter — that's the truth. It's 
 
 getting late — give me a kiss, now, and we'll peel off. 
 
 [She pulls his head down and puts her lips to his, 
 
 pressing herself against him. 
 
 Kitty. It's a long time, ain't it, since we've seed 
 
 each other ? Now, come along. 
 
 [She goes to the door. Susie enters, carrying a 
 
 taper. She is going to light the gas. 
 
 Kitty. [Quite unabashed.'] Susie Troak — well, I 
 
 never ! Joe Price came out of jail to-day, and I shall 
 
 tell 'im where you are ! 'E'll be glad to know, now, 
 
 I've rucked on 'im. [She bursts out laughing. To 
 
 Peter.] Come on ! [She goes out. 
 
 Susie. [Desj)erate.] Peter ! you ain't goin' with her ? 
 
 Peter. I must, I must, Susie — but I'll come back* 
 
 [He pushes past her, leaving the door open. 
 
 Susie stands still, almost dazed, and then 
 
 runs after him. A blast of wind from the 
 
 opened door suddenly blows out her taper. 
 
 The bang of the door is heard. 
 
 Susie. [Comes back slowly, looking stupidly at the 
 
 taper.] Oh, it's blown out ! Oh ! Oh ! 
 
 Curtain. 
 
ACT 111 
 
 It is late in the evening of the next day, in the same 
 room. BoDGER and Susie are hanging things 
 on a small tree, which is standing propped up in a 
 pot in the middle of the room. They both look very 
 sad. 
 
 Susie. 'And me a bit o' wire, please. 
 
 [She wires and ha?igs up a doll. 
 
 Bodger. I can't make these candles stick. 
 
 Susie. Peter said as 'ow he could run a pin through. 
 If only 'e was 'ere — 'e'd know. 
 
 Bodger. Yes — how handy he was about every- 
 thing. 
 
 Susie. Why do you say was' andy ? — 'E is 'andy. 
 Peter aint dead that I knows of. 
 
 Bodger. Do you think he'll come back ? 
 
 Susie. [With an assumed certainty she does notfoel.] 
 In course he will. I told you 'e said so. 
 
 Bodger. [ With a sigh.] Well, you ought to know, 
 for you've got more hold on him than any one except 
 Father Ben. 
 
 Susie. I 'avent got a 'old at all. 
 65 
 
56 PETER'S CHANCE 
 
 BoDGER. Are you fond of him, Susie ? Really fond, 
 I mean. ^He looks at her anxiously. 
 
 Susie. [Roughly. '\ I ain't fond of no one — like that 
 — nor never shall be. [Bodger, who had been trying to 
 summon courage up to speak , only sighs. ^ We're all 
 taken up with Peter, aint we .'' 
 
 BoDGER. Lots of people have been kind to me — 
 no one's ever been just the same as Peter — as if he 
 never noticed I was different to others. 
 
 Susie. No more you are, Bodger dear. Not your 
 soul, 'cept that it's better than most of ours. 
 
 BoDGER. Oh, my dear — my dear — don't you say 
 that — if you could only see inside of me. . . . 
 
 Susie. [Cutting a candle to fit a lantern.^ Now the 
 trouble with Peter is, he's that fond of everybody 
 he's with, he can't 'elp doin' what they want. If I 
 was to say to him — strong like — Peter, I want you 
 to cut your 'and off, I believe he'd do it. But a man 
 oughter be able to say " No " — I ain't got no use 
 for one as can't. Nothin'd make you wicked, 
 Bodger, nothin'. 
 
 Bodger, [Pleased and apologetic.^ Pve got Father 
 Ben to look to. 
 
 Susie. So's Peter — but — there, I won't say no 
 more about 'im. It were all Peter's idea, this 'ere 
 tree — it don't seem right to be doin' of it without 
 'im. 
 
 Bodger. Perhaps he'll come back in time to- 
 morrow to see it — he'll surely be back for Christmas 
 Eve. [Susie suddenly drops what she is holding. 
 
PETER'S CHANCE 57 
 
 Susie. Something awful 'as 'appened — I know it 
 'as — I can't go on with this tree, Bodger. Where is 
 Peter? — what is 'e doin'. Oh, where is 'e — poor, 
 poor Peter — what will Father Ben say ? [Fierceli/.] 
 Can't you do nothing, Bodger ? You just stand 
 there lookin' kind, and Peter dyin' perhaps I 
 
 Bodger. [Agitated.] But I don't know where he 
 is, Susie. 
 
 Susie. Oh I if you 'ad 'alf an eye you'd know. 
 But you're too good to know. I'd go after 'im, but 
 I'm a gal, and it's no use. Why doesn't Father 
 Ben come 'ome ? 'E's the only one. Why doesn't 
 'e come .'' [Blythe opens the door and looks in. 
 
 Blythe. I'm going to lock up the boys' club Susie, 
 but let me know as soon as Father Bentley arrives. 
 
 Susie. Why is 'e so late ? 
 
 Blythe. Oh, didn't I tell you } I had a tele- 
 phone message from him some time ago, saying he 
 was just starting. His train was kept by the fog, 
 so he stayed for supper with a friend — he'll be here 
 in a minute. 
 
 [He turns to go and then suddenly/ remembers 
 about Peter. 
 
 By the way is there any news about Peter.'* 
 
 [Susie keeps her back turned obstinately. 
 
 Bodger. I'm afraid not, sir. 
 
 Blythe. Ah ! I thought there wouldn't be. We 
 shall never see him again. I never could believe in 
 that boy. 
 
 [Susie turns round, her face is red. 
 
58 PETER'S CHANCE 
 
 Susie. Father Ben does, and 'e knows a jolly sight 
 better than . . . any of us. 
 
 Blythe. The Father is apt to be a little blinded 
 by his affections now and then. Who among us is 
 not } And I fear he has made a mistake this time 
 — it's very sad. . . . Will you come and fetch me if 
 I'm not back when he returns ? I must speak to 
 him to-night on important business. 
 
 BoDGER. I'll see to it, sir. [Blythe goes out. 
 
 Susie. Doesn't believe in Peter ! Who does 'e 
 believe in I'd like to know beside 'isself. 'Ere 'elp 
 me with the tree will you ? We'll put it on the big 
 table — I'll finish it in the morning. 
 
 [Together they lift the tree in its pot and put 
 it on the table at the back. Susie sur- 
 veys it 
 
 Susie. Looks well, don't it? 
 
 Bodger. Nothing to what it will when it's lit up. 
 [There is a ring at the bell.] Hullo, that'll be the 
 Father, perhaps. 
 
 [Bodger at once goes and opens the door. 
 Father Ben's voice is heard in the passage. 
 
 Father Ben. Hullo, Bodger, you're here rather 
 late } It's past twelve. Oh ! Well, there^s a thick 
 fog — you'd better be getting home. Good-night. 
 [He comes in rubbing his hands. 
 How do you do Susie — all well, I hope. What's 
 that ? Oh ! Peter's tree — it was a nice idea of his — 
 just like him. How are the kids .'* 
 
 Susie. [In a low voice.] All well, Father. [She helps 
 
PETER'S CHANCE 59 
 
 him off with his coat.^ Wouldn't you like a drop of 
 coffee or tea ? 
 
 Father Ben. No thank you — I've had a regular 
 West End dinner — champagne and goodness knows 
 what. Now, my girl^ off to bed. I'll put out the 
 lights. 
 
 Susie. Father! 
 
 [Father Ben looks at her for practically the first 
 time. 
 
 Father Ben. Why, what's the matter, child } 
 
 [Susie turns away and at this moment Blythe 
 enters with some papers under his arm. 
 
 Blythe. We're very glad to see you back, sir. 
 \He looks at Susie and pauses.] I'm afraid this must 
 have been a great shock to you. 
 
 Father Ben. [Impatiently.] What's been a shock .^ 
 What are you all talking about ? 
 
 Blythe. You'll be very much upset, sir, but the 
 fact is Peter has disappeared. 
 
 Father Ben. [Iticredulous.] Peter } But how ? 
 when ? 
 
 Blythe. We've not seen him since yesterday 
 evening. 
 
 Father Ben. Something must have happened. 
 
 Susie. It was that Kitty Roman again. She come 
 'ere after 'im. She must 'ave watched you out of 
 the 'ouse. [She pauses, and then almost in tears.] 'E 
 will come back, Father, say 'e will. 
 
 Father Ben. [After a pause.] It's bad ! very bad. 
 
60 PETER'S CHANCE 
 
 Kitty Roman — yes; I wonder where she's living now. 
 I must find them. 
 
 Susie. [Clasping her hands.] Oh, I knew you'd do 
 something. Father. It's been awful waitin* 'ere all 
 day and no one doing nothing. 
 
 Blythe. [Reproachfulli/.] You never said he'd gone 
 with any one, Susie. 
 
 Father Ben. Quite right, too. You've told no 
 one, I hope ? 
 
 Susie. No, Father. 
 
 Father Ben. He may try and come back to-night. 
 
 Blythe. Surely that's very improbable. I shouldn't 
 be surprised if we never hear of him again. 
 
 Father Ben. We are quite sure to. Peter isn't a 
 criminal — why he's hardly conscious ! But he's lived 
 here two months, and something has touched him 
 irrevocably. 1 know it. He'll never be happy again 
 in that life . . . but the whole question is, will he 
 grow strong enough to stand firm ... or will his 
 feeble little taper flicker out. 
 
 [The father puts his hand over his eyes. 
 
 Susie. [ With a distraught sort of cry.] Don't say 
 such things. Father ! It frightens me. Last night 
 — the taper [She stops confused. 
 
 Blythe. I'm afraid he's incurably weak, sir. 
 
 Father Ben. Stop ! Susie's quite right. We 
 shouldn't say such things. God will call His child at 
 His own time. He knows when that is. 
 
 [There is a pause. 
 
PETER'S CHANCE 61 
 
 Blythe. Perhaps I shouldn't have spoken m that 
 way. May I talk to you a moment on business ? 
 
 Father Ben. Just go and lock the front door, 
 Susie, and see that everything's right, and then bring 
 me a candle. 
 
 Susie. Yes, Father. [She goes out. 
 
 Father Ben. Now, Blythe. 
 
 Blythe. I've had a worrying interview with the 
 tax collector, sir. He says we are already liable to a 
 fine for non-payment of claim, but he can squeeze it 
 through for us if we can let him have £l7 10*. 8d. 
 by to-morrow morning early. Have you been 
 successful in your begging ? 
 
 Father Ben. Oh, yes ; I always am. I've got 
 £500, but it won't be paid till January 1st. We must 
 borrow somehow. Oh, stop a bit. Of course. I 
 had a £20 note yesterday. I gave it to you, didn't 
 I — no — Peter ! 
 
 Blythe. Do you mean to say you gave it to Peter ? 
 
 [Susie comes back. 
 
 Father Ben. Yes, I did. Wait a minute ! Susie, 
 did you know Peter had got £20 of mine. 
 
 Susie. Twenty pounds — no ! 
 
 Father Ben. Be careful now — he didn't give it to 
 you to keep — or put away anywhere ? 
 
 Blythe. This explains it all, of course. 
 
 Susie. Peter can't have taken it, 'e'd never do 
 that! 
 
 Father Ben. No, that's what I think. 
 
62 PETER'S CHANCE 
 
 Blythe. I'd better go and telephone to the PoUce 
 Station at once. 
 
 Father Ben. Great heavens, Blythe, you must be 
 mad. I manage my business my own way, without 
 any help or hindrance from the police — understand 
 that. Under no circumstances whatever will I have 
 one of them inside this house. I'd rather die than 
 be the means of sending a boy to one of their 
 prisons. What's twenty pounds compared to Peter's 
 soul. [He walks about to calm himself. 
 
 But I know he'll come back now — I'll take my oath 
 he never meant to steal that money — he'll want to 
 
 put it back somehow [He stops dead,'\ Let me see 
 
 — last night he went — yes — to-day he's been miser- 
 able and frightened — he thinks I'm away for two 
 nights. Susie ! I shall wait for him here — all night 
 if necessary. I'm not going to lose any chance of 
 getting hold of him again. 
 
 Susie. O, lemme stay up too — I can 'eat yer some 
 soup or somethin' and Peter might— 
 
 Blythe. You must be tired, sir. Let me sit up if 
 it's really advisable to 
 
 Father Ben. I wouldn't have either of you for 
 the world. I shall just sit here by the fire — pull the 
 other chair — so — [He does it'] put my feet up and 
 doze. You can turn the gas out, Susie. When he 
 comes I shall hear him. Stop a minute — I think 
 we'll leave the back door unlocked — he's likely to 
 try that on the chance, — before the window. 
 
 [He smiles. 
 
PETER'S CHANCE 63 
 
 Susie. 'Es sure to think as 'ow it might be open. 
 
 I'll run and do it now. [She runs out of the room. 
 
 Father Ben. [To Blythe.] Is the door into the 
 
 Chapel open ? Yes^ all right. I've got my candle, 
 
 haven't I — and the matches. 
 
 [He sees they are on the table. 
 Blythe. Good night, sir. I can come at any 
 moment if you call — I'm a light sleeper. 
 Father Ben. Thank you, good night. 
 
 [Blythe goes out. Susie comes back at once and 
 goes up, rather shyly, to Father Ben who 
 is sitting in his chair. She kneels dorvn 
 beside him, and takes his hand and kisses it. 
 Susie. Thank you — oh, thank you. 
 
 [Father Ben puts his hand on Susie's head. 
 Father Ben. God bless you, my daughter — be 
 sure your love for him will help. I need not tell 
 you to pray for him. 
 
 Susie. You know 'ow I love him, Father, don't 
 you? Seems as if my 'eart would break in two — 
 'e'll never care for me, but that don't matter. Poor 
 Peter ! — so kind alius, and gentle — 'e can't say no — 
 'e can't be rough on no one. Get 'im 'ome again, 
 get 'im 'ome again ! — I know you will. I shan't take 
 off me clothes. Father — I'll lie on me bed with the 
 door open so's I can 'ear — and if 'e comes it'll be all 
 
 right — you'll comfort 'im won't you 
 
 Father Ben. [Very gravely]. Pray for me also, 
 Susie — I shall want the right word for him. 
 
 [He lifts his hand off her head, lights his candle, 
 
64 PETER^S CHANCE 
 
 pulls out his prayer hook and begins reading, 
 Susie makes up the Jire, pulls the vestry 
 curtains, sees that the window is properly 
 fastened, takes a last look round, turns out 
 the gas and goes away — at Jirst leaviiig the 
 door slightly ajar, hut as if rememhering it 
 would make a draught, closing it gently. 
 Father Ben settles himself i?iio his arm- 
 chair and shuts his eyes. There is a long 
 silence. Then comes a slight scratching noise 
 in the direction of the window as if some one 
 were trying it. Father Ben blows out 
 his candle, is all attention, but does not 
 move. He sits tensely waiting. Presently 
 the door creaks. He smiles to himself hut 
 does not turn his head. The chair is a 
 high-backed one, and he draws his legs 
 up so that he cannot be seen from behind. 
 The door opens very cautiously, and Peter, 
 carrying a dark lantern and a small 
 common bag, comes in on tiptoe. He 
 barely looks round the room — is evidently 
 very frightened. He pulls off his cap, and 
 ihrmvs it down ; then he puts the bag on the 
 table, opens it and takes out an envelope. 
 He puts the note into it, then moves to the 
 window, and pulls the blind up for light 
 from the moon. He scribbles something 
 and moves towards the big table. When he 
 gets there he sees the Christmas tree — an 
 
PETER^S CHANCE 65 
 
 idea strikes kim, and he props the letter up 
 on a branch. This does not satisfy him so 
 he pulls a pin from the lapel of his coat and 
 very carefully fastens the letter on another 
 branch. Being in his way an artist, he lifts 
 the lantern and steps back to judge of the 
 effect. It seems to satisfy him. He turns, 
 and with a gesture of dislike takes a 
 rough sack from the bag and begins very 
 quietly to climb up the stairs to the chapel. 
 Twice he tries, but each time he turns back. 
 At last he pulls himself together, gets up to 
 the door of the chapel and opens it. But 
 the dim light inside, the smell of the incense, 
 and the general associations of the place are 
 too much for him. He stumbles and holds 
 on to the door^ quivering as if he had been 
 stnick. Then he half runs, half tumbles 
 down the steps and throws himself on his 
 knees by the table with his arms flung across 
 it, and his face buried, while he says over 
 and over again in a hoarse whisper — 
 
 Peter. L can't do it — I can't do it 
 
 [All this has been watched by Father Ben, who 
 first got round behind his chair, and then 
 stood in the shadow at the bottom of the 
 steps. He now thinks it time to speak, so he 
 comes forward and puts his hand rather 
 heavily on Peter's shoulder. 
 
 Father Ben. Peter ! What are you doing here ? 
 
66 PETER'S CHANCE 
 
 Peter. [In a whisper without lifting his headJ] Is it 
 you, Father? 
 
 [Father Ben puts his hand on Peter'* head ; 
 he speaks with his eyes closed. 
 
 Father Ben. My son — your grief is my grief. Let 
 me help you 
 
 Peter. [Lifts his head a little, but looks straight 
 before him.] I can't look you in the face. Father — 
 lemme go ! 
 
 Father Ben. You can hide from me, Peter, but 
 you can't hide from Almighty God. [Peter drops 
 his face on his arm again. Father Ben again puts his 
 hand on Peter's head.] He can see into your soul — 
 He knows that it is turning to Him now in anguish. 
 
 Peter. Help me ! Help me, Father — ask God to 
 kill me 
 
 Father Ben. [In a different tone.] Peter ! Come 
 and sit here by the fire and tell me everything that has 
 happened to you since I left the house yesterday. 
 Come — nothing is changed between you and me 
 
 Peter. I can't — I'm 
 
 Father Ben. [In a tone of command.] Come! 
 
 \He moves to a chair by the Jire and sits down. 
 Peter follows half dazed. He stands be- 
 side Father Ben's chair. He begins to 
 speak in a very low tone, with his head down. 
 
 Peter. Did Susie tell you as how Kitty Roman 
 come here to fetch me .'* [Father Ben nods his head.] 
 I told her I wam't going back with her. I said I 
 wanted her to come here, and for you to talk to her. 
 
PETER^S CHANCE 67 
 
 She wouldn't listen to me — she laughed and laughed. 
 But it wasn't that. Father — not then. [He pauses and 
 fidgets uneasily.^ She druv me mad with her talk 
 about takin' up with Joe Price again — he's a black- 
 guard — a shifty, drinking chap. I couldn't stand it, 
 Father — I had to go with her. I didn't mean no 
 harm. But I had to 
 
 Father Ben. Go on ! 
 
 Peter. I had the bank note — in my pocket here. 
 I was going to leave it, but she took it. [He pauses 
 again.'] All the chaps was in her place drinkin' and 
 gamblin'. Joe Price was treatin' with his come-out 
 money, and I drank with them ; and Kitty she told 
 'em as I'd come out of the jail she ran me into, and 
 then she laughed, and said I'd had a bit of luck — a 
 legacy. They all laughed, and asked me to treat 
 them next time, and, in course, I said I would ! 
 
 [There is a long pause. 
 
 Father Ben. Well, Peter .^ 
 
 Peter. [Almost aying.] I meant to get the money 
 from her and come straight back, so help me, God, 
 I did. [After another pause he breaks into a kind 
 of dry sobbing as he goes on his knees beside Father 
 Ben's chair, and his tvords come out with a great rush.] 
 You've loved a gal. Father, haven't you ? You know 
 what it is. Time enough, she says, to go back in the 
 mornin'. She do love me more nor she's ever loved 
 any one, I know she do. She made me forget every- 
 think ! I thought you was away for two nights. You 
 mightn't never know. Oh ! I oughtn't to ha' done 
 
68 PETEH^S CHANCE 
 
 it — I oughtn't to ha' done it. [He stops again j and 
 then resumes in a lower tone.^ We quarrelled in the 
 morning. I says I must take the note back — Father 
 Ben's a pal o' mine — he give me the money to look 
 after — you can't pinch from a pal. But she only said 
 if I went back to the Mission she'd done with me. 
 Then all the others come. When she told them, they 
 laughed, and said I'd turned pi., and I said no ! and 
 I'll prove it. I'll bring you gold cups and gold 
 plates with rubies in 'em, I says, worth five times 
 this bank note, and Kitty she clapped her hands, cos 
 she'd seen the things on the altar when she come 
 here. " It's true what he says," she called out, 
 "there's that and more in the Mission. Let him 
 take the twenty quid back if he wants, it's his — and 
 no affair of our'n if he's a fool — but we'll make him 
 share the other swag same as we done afore." 
 " Done with you ! " I said, and it was fixed up, and 
 they stood me, and said I was the chap then ! Kitty 
 give me the bag, and said as how I was to put the 
 plates and things in it, and she and Joe Price is 
 waitin' for me now down Black Dog Alley ! 
 
 Father Ben. Peter, do you know why you got in 
 here so easily ? 
 
 Peter. Did you leave the back door open for me ? 
 I tried it, little thinkin' — did you leave it for me ? 
 
 Father Ben. Yes, I was expecting you, but 1 
 thought you were coming back in repentance, not to 
 rob the chapel. 
 
 Peter. [Unheeding.] You left it open for me I 
 
PETER^S CHANCE 69 
 
 My God ! then it's open now I [He runs out of the 
 room at once. When he returns he is trembling with 
 fearJ] J thought they might ha' got in ! 
 
 [He looks round the room furtively^ and peers 
 out into the dark. 
 
 Father Ben. Why not call them ? 
 
 Peter. [In an agony,'] No I no ! What' 11 they say 
 when I tell 'em as I haven't got the things, Kitty' 11 
 laugh at me, jeer and laugh she will ! I'm a 
 coward, that's what I am ; there's no way out for me, 
 I'm caught ! [In hurried entreaty.] Lemme take the 
 note. Father ! It's better nor robbin' the chapel. 
 I'll say as 'ow I thought the twenty quid were best 
 after all. Gimme it, off the tree. I'll never trouble 
 you no more — God'll forget about me — lemme go ! 
 
 [There is a pause. Then Father Ben goes to 
 the tree and very slowly takes the envelope 
 off and opens it. 
 
 Father Ben. There it is, Peter. If you've made 
 your choice, take the wages of sin, and may God 
 forgive you. 
 
 [He holds the note out to Peter, who suddenly 
 drops on his knees, 
 
 Peter. I can't — I can't — something's pulling of me 
 back. I don't want to steal — I want to live clean — 
 I want God to take a hold of me. He's so far away ! 
 Will he take me back } Will he help me 'gainst 
 Kitty. No prayers and no lights on the altar won't 
 
70 PETER^S CHANCE 
 
 do it, I must be took a hold of — I can't stand alone, 
 I know I can't 
 
 [He clings to Father Ben's knees, hiding his face. 
 Father Ben. Ah ! you understand at last — the 
 dust is on your head. Peter, Peter, come now and 
 kneel at the feet of our loving Lord — He alone can 
 give you your strength. He will stand beside you 
 — Come ! 
 
 [He takes Peter simply hy the hand as if he 
 were a child and leads him up the stairs. 
 When he gets to the door he opens it and 
 7nakes Peter pass in first and closes the 
 door behind him. There is complete silence 
 for a ferv moments. Then the silence is 
 b?'oken sharply hy the sound of glass fall- 
 ing. From the outside a hand is poked 
 through the broken pane, and the same 
 hand undoes the fastening of the 7vindow. 
 This 7vithdraws, and in a moment the win- 
 doiv sash is thrown up, and Joe Price 
 climbs in pulling hack the curtain. Before 
 he can look round, Kitty is with him. 
 She hands a lantern to him before she 
 climbs down. 
 Kitty. 'E's not 'ere at all, the stinking cowardly 
 sneak. 'E's give us the slip. 
 Joe. Ssh ! 
 
 Kitty. [Tense ?vith rage.] Fooled us 'e as — kep' 
 us waiting all this time out there for nix. My 
 Gawd ! I'd like to stick him I would. The stuff's 
 
PETER^S CHANCE 71 
 
 up there, Joe Price. If you've got a bit of spunk in 
 you — go up them steps and get it. 
 
 Joe. You go ! You know where it is ! 
 
 Kitty. [With infinite scorn.'] Ye're all the same! 
 Peter thinks he can do me, but 'e can't. I'll go ! — 
 Gimme the knife. I might have to open summat. 
 [She takes it and moves towards the steps and then 
 suddenly notices the hag.] There I Look at that. 
 'E's 'ere or 'e 'as been 'ere. [She opens the bag and 
 takes out two or three tools.] Nothin' in it 'cept the 
 jemmies. This'll be better'n nor the knife. [She 
 selects a long, Jine sort of stiletto.] 'E 'asn't been 
 copped or there'd be lights and people. 'E's funked 
 and gone — that's what it is — but I'll find 'im, I'll 
 show 'im. P'r'aps 'e's up there still, prayin' and 
 mumblin', [she moves towards the steps again^ and 
 sees Peter's cap on the Jloor] 'ere's 'is cap, lor — 
 what a darned fool 'e is to leave 'is cap for the 
 beaks. 
 
 [She picks it up and puts it in the bag. 
 
 Joe. It's 'im you're after — not the swag — any 
 blighter could see that. Dang me if I'll go into this 
 another blasted step. 
 
 Kitty. You're a darned fool that's what you 
 are. If Peter's rucked it on me this time that's 
 the end of 'im and me. Now then. 
 
 [She moves again. 
 
 Joe. There's a light under that there door — 
 Come away. [Kitty looks at it. 
 
72 PETER'S CHANCE 
 
 KiTTV. There's always a light burning in that 
 there place, yer fathead. *Aven't yer seen it night 
 after night from the street ? 
 
 Joe. I don't 'alf like it. 
 
 Kitty. You follow me ! 
 
 [They both start up the stairSy hut Peter has 
 heard them, opens the chapel door and comes 
 down on them. They are startled and fall 
 hack for a moment. 
 
 Peter. You can't come up here — go away ! 
 Kitty. [Menacing.] Oh, we can't come 'ere, can't 
 we. Ye're a lyin', squealin*, cowardly skunk. 
 
 [She moves up, Joe after her, 
 
 Kitty. YouVe turned 'oly again, I serpose. Got 
 what you want outer me — and 'ad enufF. So you go 
 and toady God. Ye're a rat, Peter Grieve, and 
 Pm going to treat you like one. Where's the 
 swag — let me by or Pll bash yer 'ead in ! 
 
 Peter. [In a low tense tone.] Don't you try and go 
 up there — I tell you if you move another step— Pll 
 have the perlice on you. 
 
 [There is a fierce scuffle. Joe tries to get past 
 Peter to the Chapel, hut is held. Peter 
 suddenly unable to hold both of them calls 
 out. 
 
 Peter. Help ! help ! murder ! help ! 
 
 Kitty. [Wild with rage.] You'd put the perlice 
 
PETER'S CHANCE 73 
 
 on us would yer ! Yer dirty beast ! tike that — and 
 
 that 
 
 \^Ske puts the blade into him twice. Peter 
 stumbles down the stairs and falls. Father 
 Ben comes running out of the Chapel, and 
 goes to Peter. Joe seises hold of Kitty. 
 
 Joe. You've corpsed 'im you fool. Come on now — 
 you'll swing for this. 
 
 Father Ben. What's happened ? What is it ? 
 Peter where are you ? 
 
 [^At this moment the door bursts open and 
 Blythe and Susie rush into the room. But 
 they are not in time to stop Joe and Kitty, 
 who get ojf through the windofv in aft instant. 
 No one thinks of pursuit, but all turn to 
 Peter. Father Ben lifts Peter's head 
 and supports him. 
 
 Father Ben. Peter, Peter ! my boy — are you hurt .'' 
 l^Then he feels the blood coming on his hands 
 and starts up. 
 
 Father Ben. He's bleeding — quick, go for a 
 doctor ! 
 
 [Peter opens his eyes for a moment and smiles. 
 
 Peter, [/w a weak distant voice.^^ Why there's 
 
 Bodger playin' the orgin — it's the ladder tune — Oh ! 
 
 — I'm fallin' — fallin* — catch me — there ! It's all 
 
 right, Susie [His head drops. 
 
 [Father Ben feels his hearty listens, and then 
 
 makes the sign of the cross* 
 
 w 
 
74 PETER^S CHANCE 
 
 Susie. [Pulling at his arm.] Oh ! oh ! he's not 
 dead. Father, not dead ? 
 
 [She breaks into hysterical crying. 
 
 Father Ben. Hush I Hush ! [He raises his hand. 
 The Lord has delivered his soul in peace from the 
 battle that was against him. 
 
 Curtain. 
 
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