A POWERFUL PLAY.

Evening Star, Issue 9534, 3 November 1894, Page 1 (Supplement)

A POWERFUL PLAY.

[From Ocr Special Correspondent.]

London, September 24. The collaboration of Messrs C. Haddon Chambers and B. 0. Stephenson has, I am glad to'tell you, been attended with capital results. On all hands ' The Fatal CarcP is admitted to be the strongest melodrama the Adelphi has known for many a long year. In all probability, indeed, we should have to go back to the ' Silver King' to find its equal. Not that the playwrights have attempted to run off the beaten track or to initiate a new style of sensation play. Such experiments at the Adelphi invariably fail. No ; what Mr Chambers and his clever colleague have done is to utilise the ancient material, but to treat it with originality and audacity. There is a murder scene in 'The Fatal Card' which is—as played by-Murray Carson—one of the most blood-curdling things I've ever seen on the stago. The situation one knows by heart, but its svorking out here thrills the audience strangely. however, if I must try and outline the "play, begiu at the beginning. The Fatal Card of the play is the Jack of Clubs, which turns up just before the end of the first act. The scene is a roadside" pub "at the foot of the Rockies," where some honest miners and the professional *'bad man," George Forrester (described on the bill as " afterwards Marrable") are engaged in a none too quiet game of euchre. Forrester is probably one of the most remarkable men in Colorado—or elsewhere. He is a many-sided villain, to whom broad-faking, bond-stealing, and the manufacture of explosive clockwork come by nature, but his besetting sin is his deadly habit of inopportune introspection. With cold-blooded persistence he moralises out of season at (or in) such "lengths" that Judge Lynch intervenes. I will not believe that the mere discovery of the Jack of Clubs up Forrester afterwards Marrable's sleeve could have caused the honest miners so suddenly to decree his instant supercollation; (Of course, this is mere conjecture on my part, but it is the high critical fashion nowadays to " read in " motives for your author—and why shouldn't / conject as well as any other ?) Be that as it may, the lynchers rush away with Forrester, and are about to suspend him from a telegraph pole alongside the railroad track when the hero, Gerald Austen (with him the low comedian, Harry Burgess), rushes in, defies the mob, and rescues Forrester, who escapes by jumping on to a train which at that moment providentially crawls up the canon. Before jumping Forrester swears eternal gratitude to his rescuer. But how to recognise each other if ever we should meet again ? Ah ! I have it—meaning the Jack of Clubs. So Forrester tears the card in halves, giving one half to Gerald and retaining the other. He jumps on the train. The lynchers fire—and miss him—and the first act drop falls. When next they meet it is "in the Valley of the Thames," and Forrester is Marrable and Gerald is his guest; but both have shaved, and recognition (until the fitting time) is hopeless. Marrable is as " bad" as Forrester, but his lovely daughter Margaret believes him all that is good, and Gerald is in love with Margaret. And all the while Marrable and his gang have on hand a putup job to rob Gerald's father of a hundred thousand pounds' worth of American bonds. I do not (with my critical brethren) see any ,long-armed coincidence in the fact that

Marrable's city office is in tkc same house and on the same staircase as old Austen's. Rather will I believe that Marrable (who, when diverted from his moralisings, is a wonderfully "brainy" chap) planned the whole thing beforehand, and took that very office on purpose. NeVer mind. The scene is divided into three. Old Austen's room is r. , Marrable's room l. , and the two are separated by a landing and a winding staircase communicating with above and below. It is Bank Holiday, but American bankers know not Lubbock, and so old Austen is in his room waiting the coming of the American clerk with bonds, and Marrable and his confederate Dixon are in their room waiting till all is clear to go in and chloroform Austen and capture the boodle. Dixon is a wolfish-villain, who funks in an emergency, and with whom physical fear simulates the appearance of incipient delirium tremens. The bonds arc brought, the clerk departs, and the old man sits- counting his gains what time Dixon is preparing for boodlecapture, as aforesaid. Suddenly a cheery whistle is heard coming upstairs, and the moment is deferred. It is Gerald come to have a talk with his old father—to tell him that he loves Margaret Marrable and means to marry her. The old man is a surly curmudgeon ; the young one high-spirited and impetuous. He speaks his mind—and flings off in a rage. Music. Old Austen repents his harshness, and vows to make amends—-to-morrow. But for him to-morrow shall never come. The wolf Dixon is upon him. They struggle. The old man recognises his assailant, who in rage and fear batten out his victim's life with the stick which Gerald has left behind him. Marrable stands aghast at Dixon's bloody work, and Dixon is beside himself with terror. Steps are now heard on the staircase. It is Gerald gaily returning to make it up. It is a thrilling situation. On one side of the door the two wretches shuddering in an agony of suspense over the corpse of their victim ; on thcother theyoung man cheerily bantering his dead father. A stronger murder scene has never been witnessed—even on the Adelphi stage. Strong as is this scene, however, a weak last act would have made All the difference to the play's chances. Luckily, the last act of ' The Fatal Card' is magnificent. I have not seen so effective a finish to any melodrama since 'The Lights o' London.' How Gerald is suspected of his father's murder, and how, with a foresight unsusal in Adelphi heroes, he resolves to stay and rebut rather than fly and confirm the charge need not be discussed here. The scene is a ruined cottage used by Marrable as his "laboratory. Hither come Marrable, Dixon, and two other members of the gang to share their spoil. Meanwhile, Gerald is on their track, and presently they are on his. He is captured after a realistic struggle, is bound to a baluster, and is brutally entreated by the ferocious coward Dixon. They cast lots who shall slay Geiald, and the lot falls on Marrable. The gang clear out with their booty, and Marrable coolly winds up the mechanism of a clockwork bomb, with which he proposes to "remove" his prisoner. Gerald bears himself like a true Adelphi hero, but asks one favor. He has in his pocket book his mother's miniature; he would like Margaret to have it in memory o'f him. Of Course, this request leads to the

discovery of the torn Jack of Clubs, to\ mutual recognition, and to Marratte's. 'resolve to repay-the debt be owes by liberat-. fug his prisoner. But meanwhile the infernal machine goes tick-tick, tick-tick —and its! course has nearly run when Margaret comes to the cottage in search of Gerald. Only then does the hero realise his position, He hurls the bomb through the Window.' It instantly explodes, bringing down the cottage—and the "house" as well. Marrablolies died. Nobody else is hurt <« He! . gave his life for me j 1 devote my life tq yo»P says Gerald, taking the weeping Margaret to his arms—and the play ifs endoo. .