The Mousetrap

The same. The following morning.

The windows are open and the room has been tidied. It is a fine morning. There are only eight Indians on the mantelpiece.

Suitcases are piled up on the balcony.ALLare waiting for the boat to arrive.MACKENZIEis sitting up Left in his chair, looking definitely a little queer.EMILYis sitting Right Centre, knitting, with her hat and coat on.WARGRAVEis sitting windowseat up Right, a little apart, and is thoughtful. His manner is judicial throughout scene.VERA, by window Centre, is restless. She comes into the room as if to speak, no one takes any notice, goes down Left and sits.

ARMSTRONGandBLOREcome up Right on balcony.

ARMSTRONG. We’ve been up to the top. No sign of that boat yet.

VERA. It’s very early still.

BLORE. Oh, I know. Still, the fellow brings the milk and the bread and all that. I should have thought he’d have got here before this. (Opens door Right 2 and looks in) No sign of breakfast yet—Where’s that fellow Rogers?

VERA. Oh, don’t let’s bother about breakfast—

WARGRAVE. How’s the weather looking?

BLORE. (To window Centre) The wind has freshened a bit. Rather a mackerel sky. Old boy in the train yesterday said we were due for dirty weather. Shouldn’t wonder if he wasn’t right—

ARMSTRONG. (Up Centre. Nervously) I wish that boat would come. The sooner we get off this island the better. It’s absurd not keeping a boat on the island.

BLORE. No proper harbour. If the wind comes to blow from the south-east, a boat would get dashed to pieces against the rocks.

EMILY. But a boat would always be able to make us from the mainland?

BLORE. (To Left ofEMILY) No, Miss Brent—that’s just what it wouldn’t.

EMILY. Do you mean we should be cut off from the land?

BLORE. Yes. Condensed milk, Ryvita and tinned stuff till the gale had blown itself out. But you needn’t worry. The sea’s only a bit choppy.

EMILY. I think the pleasures of living on an island are rather overrated.

ARMSTRONG. (Restless) I wonder if that boat’s coming. Annoying the way the house is built slap up against the cliff. You can’t see the mainland until you’ve climbed to the top. (To BLORE) Shall we go up there again?

BLORE. (Grinning) It’s no good, Doctor. A watched pot never boils. There wasn’t a sign of a boat putting out when we were up there just now.

ARMSTRONG. (To down Right) What can this man Narracott be doing?

BLORE. (Philosophically) They’re all like that in Devon. Never hurry themselves.

ARMSTRONG. And where’s Rogers? He ought to be about.

BLORE. If you ask me, Master Rogers was pretty badly rattled last night.

ARMSTRONG. I know. (Shivers) Ghastly—the whole thing.

BLORE. Got the wind up properly. I’d take an even bet that he and his wife did do that old lady in.

WARGRAVE. (Incredulous) You really think so?

BLORE. Well, I never saw a man more scared. Guilty as hell, I should say.

ARMSTRONG. Fantastic—the whole thing—fantastic.

BLORE. I say, suppose he’s hopped it?

ARMSTRONG. Who, Rogers? But there isn’t any way he could. There’s no boat on the island. You’ve just said so.

BLORE. Yes, but I’ve been thinking. We’ve only Rogers’s word for that. Suppose there is one and he’s nipped off in the first thing.

MACKENZIE. Oh! No. He wouldn’t be allowed to leave the island. (His tone is so strange they stare at him.)

BLORE. Sleep well, General? (Crosses Right ofMACKENZIE.)

MACKENZIE. I dreamed—yes, I dreamed—

BLORE. I don’t wonder at that.

MACKENZIE. I dreamed of Lesley—my wife, you know.

BLORE. (Embarrassed) Oh—er—yes—I wish Narracott would come. (Turns up to window.)

MACKENZIE. Who is Narracott?

BLORE. The bloke who brought us over yesterday afternoon.

MACKENZIE. Was it only yesterday?

BLORE. (Comes down Centre. Determinedly cheerful) Yes, I feel like that, too. Batty gramophone records—suicides—it’s about all a man can stand. I shan’t be sorry to see the back of Indian Island, I give you my word.