PAGE 7
Facing Death
by
[Therese turns and throws herself into his arms.]
So, so, my child, now all is well.
[Therese runs out.]
Farewell, Annette.
ANNETTE.
Are you going away? I don’t understand all this.
DURAND.
Yes, I’m going.
ANNETTE.
But of course you’re coming back, papa.
DURAND.
Who knows whether he will live through the morrow? Anyway, we’ll say farewell.
ANNETTE.
Adieu, then, father–and a good journey to you. And you won’t forget to bring something home to us just as you used to do, will you?
DURAND.
And you remember that, though it’s so long since I’ve bought anything for you children? Adieu, Annette.
[Annette goes. Durand hums to himself.]
Through good and evil, great and small,
Where you have sown, others gather all.
[Adele comes in.]
Adele, come, now you shall hear and understand. If I speak in veiled terms, it is only to spare your conscience in having you know too much. Be quiet. I’ve got the children up in their rooms. First you are to ask me this question, “Have you a life insurance policy?” Well?
ADELE
[Questioningly and uncertain].
“Have you a life insurance policy?”
DURAND.
No, I had one, but I sold it long ago, because I thought I noticed that some one became irritable when it was due. But I have a fire insurance. Here are the papers. Hide them well. Now, I’m going to ask you something; do you know how many candles there are in a pound, mass candles at seventy-five centimes?
ADELE.
There are six.
DURAND
[Indicating the package of candles].
How many candles are there there?
ADELE.
Only five.
DURAND.
Because the sixth is placed very high up and very near–
ADELE.
–Good Lord!
DURAND
[Looking at his watch].
In five minutes or so, it will be burned out.
ADELE.
No!
DURAND.
Yes! Can you see dawn any other way in this darkness?
ADELE.
No.
DURAND.
Well, then. That takes care of the business. Now about another matter. If Monsieur Durand passes out of the world as an [Whispers] incendiary, it doesn’t matter much, but his children shall know that he lived as a man of honor up to that time. Well, then, I was born in France, but I didn’t have to admit that to the first scamp that came along. Just before I reached the age of conscription I fell in love with the one who later became my wife. To be able to marry, we came here and were naturalized. When the last war broke out, and it looked as if I was going to carry a weapon against my own country, I went out as a sharpshooter against the Germans. I never deserted, as you have heard that I did–your mother invented that story.
ADELE.
Mother never lied–
DURAND.
–So, so. Now the ghost has risen and stands between us again. I cannot enter an action against the dead, but I swear I am speaking the truth. Do you hear? And as far as your dowry is concerned, that is to say your maternal inheritance, these are the facts: first, your mother through carelessness and foolish speculations ruined your paternal inheritance so completely that I had to give up my business and start this pension. After that, part of her inheritance had to be used in the bringing-up of you children, which of course cannot be looked upon as thrown away. So it was also untrue that–
ADELE.
No, that’s not what mother said on her death-bed–