s better. (_Bottle and glass remain on GAUNT'S
table._)

ARETHUSA. Suppose you miss him?

KIT. Miss him! The road is straight; and I can hear the tap-tapping of
that stick a mile away.

ARETHUSA (_listening_). 'St! my father stirring in his room!

KIT. Let me get clear; tell him why when I'm gone. The door----?

ARETHUSA. Locked!

KIT. The window!

ARETHUSA. Quick, quick! (_She unfastens R. window, by which KIT goes
out._)

SCENE II

_ARETHUSA, GAUNT entering L._

ARETHUSA. Father, Kit is gone.... He is asleep.

GAUNT. Waiting, waiting and wearying. The years, they go so heavily, my
Hester still waiting! (_He goes R. to chest, which he opens._) That is
your chain; it's of Guinea gold; I brought it you from Guinea. (_Taking
out chain._) You liked it once; it pleased you long ago; O, why not
now--why will you not be happy now?... I swear this is my last voyage;
see, I lay my hand upon the Holy Book and swear it. One more
venture--for the child's sake, Hester; you don't think upon your little
maid.

ARETHUSA. Ah, for my sake, it was for my sake!

GAUNT. Ten days out from Lagos. That's a strange sunset, Mr. Yeo. All
hands shorten sail! Lay aloft there, look smart!... What's that? Only
the negroes in the hold.... Mr. Yeo, she can't live long at this; I have
a wife and child in Barnstaple.... Christ, what a sea! Hold on, for
God's sake--hold on fore and aft! Great God! (_as though the sea were
making a breach over the ship at the moment_).

ARETHUSA. O!

GAUNT. They seem quieter down below there.... No water--no light--no
air--seven days battened down, and the seas mountain high, and the ship
labouring hell-deep! Two hundred and five, two hundred and five, two
hundred and five--all to eternal torture!

ARETHUSA. O pity him, pity him! Let him sleep, let him forget! Let her
prayers avail in heaven, and let him rest!

GAUNT. Hester, no, don't smile at me. Rather tears! I have seen you
weep--often, often; two hundred and five times. Two hundred and five!
(_With ring._) Hester, here is your ring (_he tries to put the ring on
his finger_). How comes it in my hand? Not fallen off again? O no,
impossible! it was made smaller, dear, it can't have fallen off! Ah, you
waste away. You must live, you must, for the dear child's sake, for
mine, Hester, for mine! Ah, the child. Yes. Who am I to judge? Poor Kit
French! And she, your little maid, she's like you, Hester, and she will
save him! How should a man be s