Auctioneer.  Nine thousand for this astounding property.  Why, the Duke would pay that if he realised he’d be overlooked.  Now, Sir? [To Hornblower.  No response].  Just a little raise on that. [No response.] For nine thousand.  The Centry, Deepwater, for nine thousand.  Once—­[Taps] Twice——­[Taps].

Jill. [Under her breath] Ours!

A voice. [From far back in the centre] And five hundred.

Auctioneer. [Surprised and throwing out his arms towards the voice] And five hundred.  For nine thousand five hundred.  May I have yours, sir? [He looks at Hornblower.  No response.]

     [The solicitor speaks to him.  Mrs. H. [Whispering] It must
     be the Duke again.]

Hillcrist. [Passing his hand over his brow] That’s stopped him, anyway.

Auctioneer. [Looking at Hillcrist] For nine thousand five hundred? [Hillcrist shakes his head.] Once more.  The Centry, Deepwater, for nine thousand five hundred.  Once—­[Taps] Twice—­[Taps] [He pauses and looks again at Hornblower and Hillcrist] For the last time—­at nine thousand five hundred. [Taps] [With a look towards the bidder] Mr. Smalley.  Well! [With great satisfaction] That’s that!  No more to-day, gen’lemen.

     [The auctioneer and solicitor busy themselves.  The room begins
     to empty.]

Mrs. H. Smalley?  Smalley?  Is that the Duke’s agent?  Jack!

Hillcrist. [Coming out of a sort of coma, after the excitement he has been going through] What!  What!

Jill.  Oh, Dodo!  How splendidly you stuck it!

Hillcrist. Phew!  What a squeak!  I was clean out of my depth.  A mercy the Duke chipped in again.

Mrs. H. [Looking at Rolf and Chloe, who are standing up as if about to go] Take care; they can hear you.  Find Dawker, Jack.

     [Below, the auctioneer and solicitor take up their papers, and
     move out Left.]

     [Hillcrist stretches himself, standing up, as if to throw off
     the strain.  The door behind is opened, and Hornblower
     appears.]

Hornblower.  Ye ran me up a pretty price.  Ye bid very pluckily, Hillcrist.  But ye didn’t quite get my measure.

Hillcrist. Oh!  It was my nine thousand the Duke capped.  Thank God, the Centry’s gone to a gentleman!

Hornblower.  The Duke? [He laughs] No, the Gentry’s not gone to a gentleman, nor to a fool.  It’s gone to me.

Hillcrist. What!

HOUNBLOWER.  I’m sorry for ye; ye’re not fit to manage these things.  Well, it’s a monstrous price, and I’ve had to pay it because of your obstinacy.  I shan’t forget that when I come to build.

Hillcrist. D’you mean to say that bid was for you?