LOUKA. There’s a gentleman just called, madam—a Servian officer—
CATHERINE. [Flaming.] A Servian! How dare he—[Checking herself bitterly.] Oh, I forgot. We are at peace now. I suppose we shall have them calling every day to pay their compliments. Well, if he is an officer why don’t you tell your master? He is in the library with Major Saranoff. Why do you come to me?
LOUKA. But he asks for you, madam. And I don’t think he knows who you are: he said the lady of the house. He gave me this little ticket for you. [She takes a card out of her bosom; puts it on the salver and offers it to Catherine.]
CATHERINE. [Reading.] “Captain Bluntschli!” That’s a German name.
LOUKA. Swiss, madam, I think.
CATHERINE. [With a bound that makes Louka jump back.] Swiss! What is he like?
LOUKA. [Timidly.] He has a big carpet bag, madam.
CATHERINE. Oh, Heavens, he’s come to return the coat! Send him away—say we’re not at home—ask him to leave his address and I’ll write to him—Oh, stop: that will never do. Wait! [She throws herself into a chair to think it out. Louka waits.] The master and Major Saranoff are busy in the library, aren’t they?
LOUKA. Yes, madam.
CATHERINE. [Decisively.] Bring the gentleman out here at once. [Imperatively.] And be very polite to him. Don’t delay. Here. [Impatiently snatching the salver from her.] leave that here; and go straight back to him.
LOUKA. Yes, madam. [Going.]
CATHERINE. Louka!
LOUKA. [Stopping.] Yes, madam.
CATHERINE. Is the library door shut?
LOUKA. I think so, madam.
CATHERINE. If not, shut it as you pass through.
LOUKA. Yes, madam. [Going.]
CATHERINE. Stop! [Louka stops.] He will have to go out that way. [Indicating the gate of the stable yard.] Tell Nicola to bring his bag here after him. Don’t forget.
LOUKA. [Surprised.] His bag?
CATHERINE. Yes, here, as soon as possible. [Vehemently.] Be quick! [Louka runs into the house. Catherine snatches her apron off and throws it behind a bush. She then takes up the salver and uses it as a mirror, with the result that the handkerchief tied round her head follows the apron. A touch to her hair and a shake to her dressing gown makes her presentable.] Oh, how—how—how can a man be such a fool! Such a moment to select! [Louka appears at the door of the house, announcing “Captain Bluntschli;” and standing aside at the top of the steps to let him pass before she goes in again. He is the man of the adventure in Raina’s room. He is now clean, well brushed, smartly uniformed, and out of trouble, but still unmistakably the same man. The moment Louka’s back is turned, Catherine swoops on him with hurried, urgent, coaxing appeal.] Captain Bluntschli, I am very glad to see you; but you must leave this house at once. [He raises his eyebrows.] My husband has just returned, with my future son-in-law; and they know nothing. If they did, the consequences would be terrible. You are a foreigner: you do not feel our national animosities as we do. We still hate the Servians: the only effect of the peace on my husband is to make him feel like a lion baulked of his prey. If he discovered our secret, he would never forgive me; and my daughter’s life would hardly be safe. Will you, like the chivalrous gentleman and soldier you are, leave at once before he finds you here?
BLUNTSCHLI. [Disappointed, but philosophical.] At once, gracious lady. I only came to thank you and return the coat you lent me. If you will allow me to take it out of my bag and leave it with your servant as I pass out, I need detain you no further. [He turns to go into the house.]
CATHERINE. [Catching him by the sleeve.] Oh, you must not think of going back that way. [Coaxing him across to the stable gates.] This is the shortest way out. Many thanks. So glad to have been of service to you. Good-bye.
BLUNTSCHLI. But my bag?
CATHERINE. It will be sent on. You will leave me your address.
BLUNTSCHLI. True. Allow me. [He takes out his card-case, and stops to write his address, keeping Catherine in an agony of impatience. As he hands her the card, Petkoff, hatless, rushes from the house in a fluster of hospitality, followed by Sergius.]
PETKOFF. [As he hurries down the steps.] My dear Captain Bluntschli—
CATHERINE. Oh Heavens! [She sinks on the seat against the wall.]
PETKOFF. [Too preoccupied to notice her as he shakes Bluntschli’s hand heartily.] Those stupid people of mine thought I was out here, instead of in the—haw!—library. [He cannot mention the library without betraying how proud he is of it.] I saw you through the window. I was wondering why you didn’t come in. Saranoff is with me: you remember him, don’t you?
SERGIUS. [Saluting humorously, and then offering his hand with great charm of manner.] Welcome, our friend the enemy!
PETKOFF. No longer the enemy, happily. [Rather anxiously.] I hope you’ve come as a friend, and not on business.
CATHERINE. Oh, quite as a friend, Paul. I was just asking Captain Bluntschli to stay to lunch; but he declares he must go at once.
SERGIUS. [Sardonically.] Impossible, Bluntschli. We want you here badly. We have to send on three cavalry regiments to Phillipopolis; and we don’t in the least know how to do it.
BLUNTSCHLI. [Suddenly attentive and business-like.] Phillipopolis! The forage is the trouble, eh?
PETKOFF. [Eagerly.] Yes, that’s it. [To Sergius.] He sees the whole thing at once.
BLUNTSCHLI. I think I can shew you how to manage that.
SERGIUS. Invaluable man! Come along! [Towering over Bluntschli, he puts his hand on his shoulder and takes him to the steps, Petkoff following. As Bluntschli puts his foot on the first step, Raina comes out of the house.]
RAINA. [Completely losing her presence of mind.] Oh, the chocolate cream soldier! [Bluntschli stands rigid. Sergius, amazed, looks at Raina, then at Petkoff, who looks back at him and then at his wife.]
CATHERINE. [With commanding presence of mind.] My dear Raina, don’t you see that we have a guest here—Captain Bluntschli, one of our new Servian friends? [Raina bows; Bluntschli bows.]
RAINA. How silly of me! [She comes down into the centre of the group, between Bluntschli and Petkoff.] I made a beautiful ornament this morning for the ice pudding; and that stupid Nicola has just put down a pile of plates on it and spoiled it. [To Bluntschli, winningly.] I hope you didn’t think that you were the chocolate cream soldier, Captain Bluntschli.
BLUNTSCHLI. [Laughing.] I assure you I did. [Stealing a whimsical glance at her.] Your explanation was a relief.
PETKOFF. [Suspiciously, to Raina.] And since when, pray, have you taken to cooking?
CATHERINE. Oh, whilst you were away. It is her latest fancy.
PETKOFF. [Testily.] And has Nicola taken to drinking? He used to be careful enough. First he shews Captain Bluntschli out here when he knew quite well I was in the—hum!—library; and then
