ROBERTS: 'Do you wish me to lie? Very well, then, I will lie.
What is the lie?'
WILLIS: 'Ah, now you're talking like a man! I can soon think up a lie if you're game for it. Suppose it wasn't so very white--say a delicate blonde!'
ROBERTS: 'I shouldn't care if it were as black as the ace of spades.'
WILLIS: 'Roberts, I honour you! It isn't everybody who could steal an old gentleman's watch, and then be so ready to lie out of it.
Well, you HAVE got courage--both kinds--moral and physical.'
ROBERTS: 'Thank you, Willis. Of course I don't pretend that I should be willing to lie under ordinary circumstances; but for the sake of Agnes and the children--I don't want any awkwardness about the matter; it would be the death of me. Well, what do you wish me to say? Be quick; I don't believe I could hold out for a great while. I don't suppose but what Mr. Bemis would be reasonable, even if I--'
WILLIS: 'I'm afraid we couldn't trust him. The only way is for you to take the bull by the horns.'
ROBERTS: 'Yes?'
WILLIS: 'You will not only have to lie, Roberts, but you will have to wear an air of innocent candour at the same time.'
ROBERTS: 'I--I'm afraid I couldn't manage that. What is your idea?'
WILLIS: 'Oh, just come into the room with a laugh when we go back, and say, in an offhand way, "By the way, Agnes, Willis and I made a remarkable discovery in my dressing-room; we found my watch there on the bureau. Ha, ha, ha!" Do you think you could do it?'
ROBERTS: 'I--I don't know.'
WILLIS: 'Try the laugh now.'
ROBERTS: 'I'd rather not--now.'
WILLIS: 'Well, try it, anyway.'
ROBERTS: 'Ha, ha, ha!'
WILLIS: 'Once more.'
ROBERTS: 'Ha, ha, ha!'
WILLIS: 'Pretty ghastly; but I guess you can come it.'
ROBERTS: 'I'll try. And then what?'
WILLIS: 'And then you say, "I hadn't put it on when I went out, and when I got after that fellow and took it back, I was simply getting somebody else's watch!" Then you hold out both watches to her, and laugh again. Everybody laughs, and crowds round you to examine the watches, and you make fun and crack jokes at your own expense all the time, and pretty soon old Bemis says, "Why, this is MY watch, NOW!" and you laugh more than ever--'
ROBERTS: 'I'm afraid I couldn't laugh when he said that. I don't believe I could laugh. It would make my blood run cold.'
WILLIS: 'Oh no, it wouldn't. You'd be in the spirit of it by that time.'
ROBERTS: 'Do you think so? Well?'
WILLIS: 'And then you say, "Well, this is the most remarkable coincidence I ever heard of. I didn't get my own watch from the fellow, but I got yours, Mr. Bemis;" and then you hand it over to him and say, "Sorry I had to break the chain in getting it from him," and then everybody laughs again, and--and that ends it.'
ROBERTS, with a profound sigh: 'Do you think that would end it?'
WILLIS: 'Why, certainly. It'll put old Bemis in the wrong, don't you see? It'll show that instead of letting the fellow escape to go and rob HIM, you attacked him and took Bemis's property back from him yourself. Bemis wouldn't have a word to say. All you've got to do is to keep up a light, confident manner.'
ROBERTS: 'But what if it shouldn't put Bemis in the wrong? What if he shouldn't say or do anything that we've counted upon, but something altogether different?'
WILLIS: 'Well, then, you must trust to inspiration, and adapt yourself to circumstances.'
ROBERTS: 'Wouldn't it be rather more of a joke to come out with the facts at once?'
WILLIS: 'On you it would; and a year from now--say next Christmas-- you could get the laugh on Bemis that way. But if you were to risk it now, there's no telling how he'd take it. He's so indignant he might insist upon leaving the house. But with this plan of mine--'
ROBERTS, in despair: 'I couldn't, Willis. I don't feel light, and I don't feel confident, and I couldn't act it. If it were a simple lie--'
WILLIS: 'Oh, lies are never simple; they require the exercise of all your ingenuity. If you want something simple, you must stick to the truth, and throw yourself on Bemis's mercy.'
ROBERTS, walking up and down in great distress: 'I can't do it; I can't do it. It's very kind of you to think it all out for me, but'--struck by a sudden idea--'Willis, why shouldn't YOU do it?'
WILLIS: 'I?'
ROBERTS: 'You are good at those things. You have so much aplomb, you know. YOU could carry it off, you know, first-rate.'
WILLIS, as if finding a certain fascination in the idea: 'Well, I don't know--'
ROBERTS: 'And I could chime in on the laugh. I think I could do that if somebody else was doing the rest.'
WILLIS, after a moment of silent reflection: 'I SHOULD like to do it. I should like to see how old Bemis would look when I played it on him. Roberts, I WILL do it. Not a word! I should LIKE to do it. Now you go on and hurry up your toilet, old fellow; you needn't mind me here. I'll be rehearsing.'
MRS. ROBERTS, knocking at the door, outside: 'Edward, are you NEVER coming?'
ROBERTS: 'Yes, yes; I'll be there in a minute, my dear.'
WILLIS: 'Yes, he'll be there. Run along back, and keep it going till we come. Roberts, I wouldn't take a thousand dollars for this chance.'
ROBERTS: 'I'm glad you like it.'
WILLIS: 'Like it? Of course I do. Or no! Hold on! Wait! It won't do! No; you must take the leading part, and I'll support you, and I'll come in strong if you break down. That's the way we have got to work it. You must make the start.'
ROBERTS: 'Couldn't you make it better, Willis? It's your idea.'
WILLIS: 'No; they'd be sure to suspect me, and they can't suspect you of anything--you're so innocent. The illusion will be complete.'
ROBERTS, very doubtfully: 'Do you think so?'
WILLIS: 'Yes. Hurry up. Let me unbutton that collar for you.'
