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Everhardt."' "Sew me up," said Mr. Cooke; "if that don't beat hell!" CHAPTER XXI In this world of lies the good and the bad are so closely intermingled that frequently one is the means of obtaining the other. Therefore, I wish very freely to express my obligations to the Celebrity for any share he may have had in contributing to the greatest happiness of my life. Marian and I were married the very next month, October, at my client's palatial residence of Mohair. This was at Mr. Cooke's earnest wish: and since Marian was Mrs. Cooke's own niece, and an orphan, there seemed no good reason why my client should not be humored in the matter. As for Marian and me, we did not much care whether we were married at Mohair or the City of Mexico. Mrs. Cooke, I think, had a secret preference for Germantown. Mr. Cooke quite over-reached himself in that wedding. "The knot was tied," as the papers expressed it, "under a huge bell of yellow roses." The paper also named the figure which the flowers and the collation and other things cost Mr. Cooke. A natural reticence forbids me to repeat it. But, lest my client should think that I undervalue his kindness, I will say that we had the grandest wedding ever seen in that part of the world. McCann was there, and Mr. Cooke saw to it that he had a punchbowl all to himself in which to drink our healths: Judge Short was there, still followed by the conjugal eye: and Senator Trevor, who remained over, in a new long black coat to kiss the bride. Mr. Cooke chartered two cars to carry guests from the East, besides those who came as ordinary citizens. Miss Trevor was of the party, and Farrar, of course, was best man. Would that I had the flow of words possessed by the reporter of the Chicago Sunday newspaper! But there is one thing I must mention before Mrs. Crocker and I leave for New York, in a shower of rice, on Mr. Cooke's own private car, and that is my client's gift. In addition to the check he gave Marian, he presented us with a huge, 'repousse' silver urn he had had made to order, and he expressed a desire that the design upon it should remind us of him forever and ever. I think it will. Mercury is duly set forth in a gorgeous equipage, driving four horses around the world at a furious pace; and the artist, by special instructions, had docked their tails. From New York, Mrs. Crocker and I went abroad. And it so chanced, in December, that we were staying a few days at a country-place in Sussex, and the subject of The Sybarites was broached at a dinner-party. The book was then having its sale in England. "Crocker," said our host, "do you happen to have met the author of that book? He's an American." I looked across the table at my wife, and we both laughed. "I happen to know him intimately," I replied. "Do you, now?" said the Englishman; "what a very entertaining chap he is, is he not? I had him down in October, and, by Jove, we were laughing the blessed time. He was telling us how he wrote his novels, and he said, 'pon my soul he did, that he had a secretary or something of that sort to whom he told the plot, and the secretary elaborated, you know, and wrote the draft. And he said, 'pon my honor, that sometimes the clark wrote the plot and all,--the whole blessed thing,--and that he never saw the book except to sign his name to it." "You say he was here in October?" asked Marian, when the laugh had subsided. "I have the date," answered our host, "for he left me an autograph copy of The Sybarites when he went away." And after dinner he showed us the book, with evident pride. Inscribed on the fly-leaf was the name of the author, October 10th. But a glance sufficed to convince both of us that the Celebrity had never written it. "John," said Marian to me, a suspicion of the truth crossing her mind, "John, can it be the bicycle man?" "Yes, it can be," I said; "it is." "Well," said Marian, "he's been doing a little more for our friend than we did." Nor was this the last we heard of that meteoric trip through England, which the alleged author of The Sybarites had indulged in. He did not go up to London; not he. It was given out that he was travelling for his health, that he did not wish to be lionized; and there were friends of the author in the metropolis who had never heard of his secretary, and who were at a loss to understand his conduct. They felt slighted. One of these told me that the Celebrity had been to a Lincolnshire estate where he had created a decided sensation by his riding to hounds, something the Celebrity had never been known to do. And before we crossed the Channel, Marian saw another autograph copy of the famous novel. One day, some months afterwards, we were sitting in our little salon in a Paris hotel when a card was sent up, which Marian took. "John," she cried, "it's the Celebrity." It was the Celebrity, in the flesh, faultlessly groomed and clothed, with frock coat, gloves, and stick. He looked the picture of ruddy, manly health and strength, and we saw at once that he bore no ill-will for the past. He congratulated us warmly, and it was my turn to offer him a cigarette. He was nothing loath to reminisce on the subject of his experiences in the wilds of the northern lakes, or even to laugh over them. He asked affectionately after his friend Cooke. Time had softened his feelings, and we learned that he had another girl, who was in Paris just then, and invited us on the spot to dine with her at "Joseph's." Let me say, in passing, that as usual she did credit to the Celebrity's exceptional taste. "Now," said he, "I have something to tell you two." He asked for another cigarette, and I laid the box beside him. "I suppose you reached Saville all right," I said, anticipating. "Seven at night," said he, "and so hungry that I ate what they call marble cake for supper, and a great many other things out of little side dishes, and nearly died of indigestion afterward. Then I took a train up to the main line. An express came along. 'Why not go West?' I asked myself, and I jumped aboard. It was another whim--you know I am subject to them. When I got to Victoria I wired for money and sailed to Japan; and then I went on to India and through the Suez, taking things easy. I fell in with some people I knew who were going where the spirit moved them, and I went along. "Algiers, for one place, and whom do you think I saw there, in the lobby of a hotel?" "Charles Wrexell Allen," cried Marian and I together. The Celebrity looked surprised. "How did you know?" he demanded. "Go on with your story," said Marian; "what did he do?" "What did he do?" said the Celebrity; "why, the blackguard stepped up and shook me by the hand, and asked after my health, and wanted to know whether I were married yet. He was so beastly familiar that I took out my glass, and I got him into a cafe for fear some one would see me with him. 'My dear fellow,' said he, 'you did me the turn of my life.--How can I ever repay you?' 'Hang your impudence,' said I, but I wanted to hear what he had to say. 'Don't lose your temper, old chap,' he laughed; 'you took a few liberties with my name, and there was no good reason why I shouldn't take some with yours. Was there? When I think of it, the thing was most decidedly convenient; it was the hand of Providence.' 'You took liberties with my name,' I cried. With that he coolly called to the waiter to fill our glasses. 'Now,' said he, 'I've got a story for you. Do you remember the cotillon, or whatever it was, that Cooke gave? Well, that was all in the Chicago papers, and the "Miles Standish" agent there saw it, and he knew pretty well that I wasn't West. So he sent me the papers, just for fun. You may imagine my surprise when I read that I had been leading a dance out at Mohair, or some such barbarous place in the northwest. I looked it up on the map (Asquith, I mean), and then I began to think. I wondered who in the devil it might be who had taken my name and occupation, and all that. You see, I had just relieved the company of a little money, and it hit me like a clap of thunder one day that the idiot was you. But I couldn't be sure. And as long as I had to get out very soon anyway, I concluded to go to Mohair and make certain, and then pile things off on you if you happened to be the man.'" At this point Marian and I were seized with laughter, in which the Celebrity himself joined. Presently he continued: "'So I went,' said Allen. 'I provided myself with two disguises, as a careful man should, but by the time I reached that outlandish hole, Asquith, the little thing I was mixed up in burst prematurely, and the papers were full of it that morning. The whole place was out with sticks, so to speak, hunting for you. They told me the published description hit you to a dot, all except the scar, and they quarrelled about that. I posed as the promoter of resort syndicates, and I hired the Scimitar and sailed over to Bear Island; and I didn't have a bad time that afternoon, only Cooke insisted on making remarks about my whiskers, and I was in mortal fear lest he might accidentally pull one off. He came cursed near it. By the way, he's the very deuce of a man, isn't he? I knew he took me for a detective, so I played the part. And in the night that ass of a state senator nearly gave me pneumonia by getting me out in the air to tell me they had hid you in a cave. So I sat up all night, and followed the relief party in the morning, and you nearly disfigured me for life when you threw that bottle into the woods. Then I went back to camp, and left so fast that I forgot my extra pair of red whiskers. I had two of each disguise, you know, so I didn't miss them. "'I guess,' Mr. Allen went on, gleefully, 'that I got off about as cleanly as any criminal ever did, thanks to you. If we'd fixed the thing up between us it couldn't have been any neater, could it? Because I went straight to Far Harbor and got you into a peck of trouble, right away, and then slipped quietly into Canada, and put on the outfit of a travelling salesman. And right here another bright idea struck me. Why not carry the thing farther? I knew that you had advertised a trip to Europe (why, the Lord only knows), so I went East and sailed for England on the Canadian Line. And let me thank you for a little sport I had in a quiet way as the author of The Sybarites. I think I astonished some of your friends, old boy.'" The Celebrity lighted another cigarette. "So if it hadn't been for me," he said, "the 'Miles Standish Bicycle Company' wouldn't have gone to the wall. Can they sentence me for assisting Allen to get away, Crocker? If they can, I believe I shall stay over here." "I think you are safe," said I. "But didn't Allen tell you any more?" "No. A man he used to know came into the cafe, and Allen got out of the back door. And I never saw him again." "I believe I can tell you a little more," said Marian. ...................... The Celebrity is still writing books of a high moral tone and unapproachable principle, and his popularity is undiminished. I have not heard, however, that he has given way to any more whims. PG EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: A man's character often give the lie to his tongue A lie has short legs Appearance of a professional pallbearer Architects should be driven and not followed Consequential or inconsequential irrespective of their size Deal with a fool according to his folly Impervious to hints, and would not take no for an answer Old enough to know better, and too old to be taught That abominable word "like" End of Project Gutenberg's The Celebrity, Complete, by Winston Churchill *** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CELEBRITY, COMPLETE *** ***** This file should be named 5387.txt or 5387.zip ***** This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: http://www.gutenberg.net/5/3/8/5387/ Produced by David Widger Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will be renamed. 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Everhardt."' "Sew me up," said Mr. Cooke; "if that don't beat hell!" CHAPTER XXI In this world of lies the good and the bad are so closely intermingled that frequently one is the means of obtaining the other. Therefore, I wish very freely to express my obligations to the Celebrity for any share he may have had in contributing to the greatest happiness of my life. Marian and I were married the very next month, October, at my client's palatial residence of Mohair. This was at Mr. Cooke's earnest wish: and since Marian was Mrs. Cooke's own niece, and an orphan, there seemed no good reason why my client should not be humored in the matter. As for Marian and me, we did not much care whether we were married at Mohair or the City of Mexico. Mrs. Cooke, I think, had a secret preference for Germantown. Mr. Cooke quite over-reached himself in that wedding. "The knot was tied," as the papers expressed it, "under a huge bell of yellow roses." The paper also named the figure which the flowers and the collation and other things cost Mr. Cooke. A natural reticence forbids me to repeat it. But, lest my client should think that I undervalue his kindness, I will say that we had the grandest wedding ever seen in that part of the world. McCann was there, and Mr. Cooke saw to it that he had a punchbowl all to himself in which to drink our healths: Judge Short was there, still followed by the conjugal eye: and Senator Trevor, who remained over, in a new long black coat to kiss the bride. Mr. Cooke chartered two cars to carry guests from the East, besides those who came as ordinary citizens. Miss Trevor was of the party, and Farrar, of course, was best man. Would that I had the flow of words possessed by the reporter of the Chicago Sunday newspaper! But there is one thing I must mention before Mrs. Crocker and I leave for New York, in a shower of rice, on Mr. Cooke's own private car, and that is my client's gift. In addition to the check he gave Marian, he presented us with a huge, 'repousse' silver urn he had had made to order, and he expressed a desire that the design upon it should remind us of him forever and ever. I think it will. Mercury is duly set forth in a gorgeous equipage, driving four horses around the world at a furious pace; and the artist, by special instructions, had docked their tails. From New York, Mrs. Crocker and I went abroad. And it so chanced, in December, that we were staying a few days at a country-place in Sussex, and the subject of The Sybarites was broached at a dinner-party. The book was then having its sale in England. "Crocker," said our host, "do you happen to have met the author of that book? He's an American." I looked across the table at my wife, and we both laughed. "I happen to know him intimately," I replied. "Do you, now?" said the Englishman; "what a very entertaining chap he is, is he not? I had him down in October, and, by Jove, we were laughing the blessed time. He was telling us how he wrote his novels, and he said, 'pon my soul he did, that he had a secretary or something of that sort to whom he told the plot, and the secretary elaborated, you know, and wrote the draft. And he said, 'pon my honor, that sometimes the clark wrote the plot and all,--the whole blessed thing,--and that he never saw the book except to sign his name to it." "You say he was here in October?" asked Marian, when the laugh had subsided. "I have the date," answered our host, "for he left me an autograph copy of The Sybarites when he went away." And after dinner he showed us the book, with evident pride. Inscribed on the fly-leaf was the name of the author, October 10th. But a glance sufficed to convince both of us that the Celebrity had never written it. "John," said Marian to me, a suspicion of the truth crossing her mind, "John, can it be the bicycle man?" "Yes, it can be," I said; "it is." "Well," said Marian, "he's been doing a little more for our friend than we did." Nor was this the last we heard of that meteoric trip through England, which the alleged author of The Sybarites had indulged in. He did not go up to London; not he. It was given out that he was travelling for his health, that he did not wish to be lionized; and there were friends of the author in the metropolis who had never heard of his secretary, and who were at a loss to understand his conduct. They felt slighted. One of these told me that the Celebrity had been to a Lincolnshire estate where he had created a decided sensation by his riding to hounds, something the Celebrity had never been known to do. And before we crossed the Channel, Marian saw another autograph copy of the famous novel. One day, some months afterwards, we were sitting in our little salon in a Paris hotel when a card was sent up, which Marian took. "John," she cried, "it's the Celebrity." It was the Celebrity, in the flesh, faultlessly groomed and clothed, with frock coat, gloves, and stick. He looked the picture of ruddy, manly health and strength, and we saw at once that he bore no ill-will for the past. He congratulated us warmly, and it was my turn to offer him a cigarette. He was nothing loath to reminisce on the subject of his experiences in the wilds of the northern lakes, or even to laugh over them. He asked affectionately after his friend Cooke. Time had softened his feelings, and we learned that he had another girl, who was in Paris just then, and invited us on the spot to dine with her at "Joseph's." Let me say, in passing, that as usual she did credit to the Celebrity's exceptional taste. "Now," said he, "I have something to tell you two." He asked for another cigarette, and I laid the box beside him. "I suppose you reached Saville all right," I said, anticipating. "Seven at night," said he, "and so hungry that I ate what they call marble cake for supper, and a great many other things out of little side dishes, and nearly died of indigestion afterward. Then I took a train up to the main line. An express came along. 'Why not go West?' I asked myself, and I jumped aboard. It was another whim--you know I am subject to them. When I got to Victoria I wired for money and sailed to Japan; and then I went on to India and through the Suez, taking things easy. I fell in with some people I knew who were going where the spirit moved them, and I went along. "Algiers, for one place, and whom do you think I saw there, in the lobby of a hotel?" "Charles Wrexell Allen," cried Marian and I together. The Celebrity looked surprised. "How did you know?" he demanded. "Go on with your story," said Marian; "what did he do?" "What did he do?" said the Celebrity; "why, the blackguard stepped up and shook me by the hand, and asked after my health, and wanted to know whether I were married yet. He was so beastly familiar that I took out my glass, and I got him into a cafe for fear some one would see me with him. 'My dear fellow,' said he, 'you did me the turn of my life.--How can I ever repay you?' 'Hang your impudence,' said I, but I wanted to hear what he had to say. 'Don't lose your temper, old chap,' he laughed; 'you took a few liberties with my name, and there was no good reason why I shouldn't take some with yours. Was there? When I think of it, the thing was most decidedly convenient; it was the hand of Providence.' 'You took liberties with my name,' I cried. With that he coolly called to the waiter to fill our glasses. 'Now,' said he, 'I've got a story for you. Do you remember the cotillon, or whatever it was, that Cooke gave? Well, that was all in the Chicago papers, and the "Miles Standish" agent there saw it, and he knew pretty well that I wasn't West. So he sent me the papers, just for fun. You may imagine my surprise when I read that I had been leading a dance out at Mohair, or some such barbarous place in the northwest. I looked it up on the map (Asquith, I mean), and then I began to think. I wondered who in the devil it might be who had taken my name and occupation, and all that. You see, I had just relieved the company of a little money, and it hit me like a clap of thunder one day that the idiot was you. But I couldn't be sure. And as long as I had to get out very soon anyway, I concluded to go to Mohair and make certain, and then pile things off on you if you happened to be the man.'" At this point Marian and I were seized with laughter, in which the Celebrity himself joined. Presently he continued: "'So I went,' said Allen. 'I provided myself with two disguises, as a careful man should, but by the time I reached that outlandish hole, Asquith, the little thing I was mixed up in burst prematurely, and the papers were full of it that morning. The whole place was out with sticks, so to speak, hunting for you. They told me the published description hit you to a dot, all except the scar, and they quarrelled about that. I posed as the promoter of resort syndicates, and I hired the Scimitar and sailed over to Bear Island; and I didn't have a bad time that afternoon, only Cooke insisted on making remarks about my whiskers, and I was in mortal fear lest he might accidentally pull one off. He came cursed near it. By the way, he's the very deuce of a man, isn't he? I knew he took me for a detective, so I played the part. And in the night that ass of a state senator nearly gave me pneumonia by getting me out in the air to tell me they had hid you in a cave. So I sat up all night, and followed the relief party in the morning, and you nearly disfigured me for life when you threw that bottle into the woods. Then I went back to camp, and left so fast that I forgot my extra pair of red whiskers. I had two of each disguise, you know, so I didn't miss them. "'I guess,' Mr. Allen went on, gleefully, 'that I got off about as cleanly as any criminal ever did, thanks to you. If we'd fixed the thing up between us it couldn't have been any neater, could it? Because I went straight to Far Harbor and got you into a peck of trouble, right away, and then slipped quietly into Canada, and put on the outfit of a travelling salesman. And right here another bright idea struck me. Why not carry the thing farther? I knew that you had advertised a trip to Europe (why, the Lord only knows), so I went East and sailed for England on the Canadian Line. And let me thank you for a little sport I had in a quiet way as the author of The Sybarites. I think I astonished some of your friends, old boy.'" The Celebrity lighted another cigarette. "So if it hadn't been for me," he said, "the 'Miles Standish Bicycle Company' wouldn't have gone to the wall. Can they sentence me for assisting Allen to get away, Crocker? If they can, I believe I shall stay over here." "I think you are safe," said I. "But didn't Allen tell you any more?" "No. A man he used to know came into the cafe, and Allen got out of the back door. And I never saw him again." "I believe I can tell you a little more," said Marian. ...................... The Celebrity is still writing books of a high moral tone and unapproachable principle, and his popularity is undiminished. I have not heard, however, that he has given way to any more whims. PG EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: A man's character often give the lie to his tongue A lie has short legs Appearance of a professional pallbearer Architects should be driven and not followed Consequential or inconsequential irrespective of their size Deal with a fool according to his folly Impervious to hints, and would not take no for an answer Old enough to know better, and too old to be taught That abominable word "like" End of Project Gutenberg's The Celebrity, Complete, by Winston Churchill *** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CELEBRITY, COMPLETE *** ***** This file should be named 5387.txt or 5387.zip ***** This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: http://www.gutenberg.net/5/3/8/5387/ Produced by David Widger Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will be renamed. 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cursed

How many times the word 'cursed' appears in the text?

Everhardt."' "Sew me up," said Mr. Cooke; "if that don't beat hell!" CHAPTER XXI In this world of lies the good and the bad are so closely intermingled that frequently one is the means of obtaining the other. Therefore, I wish very freely to express my obligations to the Celebrity for any share he may have had in contributing to the greatest happiness of my life. Marian and I were married the very next month, October, at my client's palatial residence of Mohair. This was at Mr. Cooke's earnest wish: and since Marian was Mrs. Cooke's own niece, and an orphan, there seemed no good reason why my client should not be humored in the matter. As for Marian and me, we did not much care whether we were married at Mohair or the City of Mexico. Mrs. Cooke, I think, had a secret preference for Germantown. Mr. Cooke quite over-reached himself in that wedding. "The knot was tied," as the papers expressed it, "under a huge bell of yellow roses." The paper also named the figure which the flowers and the collation and other things cost Mr. Cooke. A natural reticence forbids me to repeat it. But, lest my client should think that I undervalue his kindness, I will say that we had the grandest wedding ever seen in that part of the world. McCann was there, and Mr. Cooke saw to it that he had a punchbowl all to himself in which to drink our healths: Judge Short was there, still followed by the conjugal eye: and Senator Trevor, who remained over, in a new long black coat to kiss the bride. Mr. Cooke chartered two cars to carry guests from the East, besides those who came as ordinary citizens. Miss Trevor was of the party, and Farrar, of course, was best man. Would that I had the flow of words possessed by the reporter of the Chicago Sunday newspaper! But there is one thing I must mention before Mrs. Crocker and I leave for New York, in a shower of rice, on Mr. Cooke's own private car, and that is my client's gift. In addition to the check he gave Marian, he presented us with a huge, 'repousse' silver urn he had had made to order, and he expressed a desire that the design upon it should remind us of him forever and ever. I think it will. Mercury is duly set forth in a gorgeous equipage, driving four horses around the world at a furious pace; and the artist, by special instructions, had docked their tails. From New York, Mrs. Crocker and I went abroad. And it so chanced, in December, that we were staying a few days at a country-place in Sussex, and the subject of The Sybarites was broached at a dinner-party. The book was then having its sale in England. "Crocker," said our host, "do you happen to have met the author of that book? He's an American." I looked across the table at my wife, and we both laughed. "I happen to know him intimately," I replied. "Do you, now?" said the Englishman; "what a very entertaining chap he is, is he not? I had him down in October, and, by Jove, we were laughing the blessed time. He was telling us how he wrote his novels, and he said, 'pon my soul he did, that he had a secretary or something of that sort to whom he told the plot, and the secretary elaborated, you know, and wrote the draft. And he said, 'pon my honor, that sometimes the clark wrote the plot and all,--the whole blessed thing,--and that he never saw the book except to sign his name to it." "You say he was here in October?" asked Marian, when the laugh had subsided. "I have the date," answered our host, "for he left me an autograph copy of The Sybarites when he went away." And after dinner he showed us the book, with evident pride. Inscribed on the fly-leaf was the name of the author, October 10th. But a glance sufficed to convince both of us that the Celebrity had never written it. "John," said Marian to me, a suspicion of the truth crossing her mind, "John, can it be the bicycle man?" "Yes, it can be," I said; "it is." "Well," said Marian, "he's been doing a little more for our friend than we did." Nor was this the last we heard of that meteoric trip through England, which the alleged author of The Sybarites had indulged in. He did not go up to London; not he. It was given out that he was travelling for his health, that he did not wish to be lionized; and there were friends of the author in the metropolis who had never heard of his secretary, and who were at a loss to understand his conduct. They felt slighted. One of these told me that the Celebrity had been to a Lincolnshire estate where he had created a decided sensation by his riding to hounds, something the Celebrity had never been known to do. And before we crossed the Channel, Marian saw another autograph copy of the famous novel. One day, some months afterwards, we were sitting in our little salon in a Paris hotel when a card was sent up, which Marian took. "John," she cried, "it's the Celebrity." It was the Celebrity, in the flesh, faultlessly groomed and clothed, with frock coat, gloves, and stick. He looked the picture of ruddy, manly health and strength, and we saw at once that he bore no ill-will for the past. He congratulated us warmly, and it was my turn to offer him a cigarette. He was nothing loath to reminisce on the subject of his experiences in the wilds of the northern lakes, or even to laugh over them. He asked affectionately after his friend Cooke. Time had softened his feelings, and we learned that he had another girl, who was in Paris just then, and invited us on the spot to dine with her at "Joseph's." Let me say, in passing, that as usual she did credit to the Celebrity's exceptional taste. "Now," said he, "I have something to tell you two." He asked for another cigarette, and I laid the box beside him. "I suppose you reached Saville all right," I said, anticipating. "Seven at night," said he, "and so hungry that I ate what they call marble cake for supper, and a great many other things out of little side dishes, and nearly died of indigestion afterward. Then I took a train up to the main line. An express came along. 'Why not go West?' I asked myself, and I jumped aboard. It was another whim--you know I am subject to them. When I got to Victoria I wired for money and sailed to Japan; and then I went on to India and through the Suez, taking things easy. I fell in with some people I knew who were going where the spirit moved them, and I went along. "Algiers, for one place, and whom do you think I saw there, in the lobby of a hotel?" "Charles Wrexell Allen," cried Marian and I together. The Celebrity looked surprised. "How did you know?" he demanded. "Go on with your story," said Marian; "what did he do?" "What did he do?" said the Celebrity; "why, the blackguard stepped up and shook me by the hand, and asked after my health, and wanted to know whether I were married yet. He was so beastly familiar that I took out my glass, and I got him into a cafe for fear some one would see me with him. 'My dear fellow,' said he, 'you did me the turn of my life.--How can I ever repay you?' 'Hang your impudence,' said I, but I wanted to hear what he had to say. 'Don't lose your temper, old chap,' he laughed; 'you took a few liberties with my name, and there was no good reason why I shouldn't take some with yours. Was there? When I think of it, the thing was most decidedly convenient; it was the hand of Providence.' 'You took liberties with my name,' I cried. With that he coolly called to the waiter to fill our glasses. 'Now,' said he, 'I've got a story for you. Do you remember the cotillon, or whatever it was, that Cooke gave? Well, that was all in the Chicago papers, and the "Miles Standish" agent there saw it, and he knew pretty well that I wasn't West. So he sent me the papers, just for fun. You may imagine my surprise when I read that I had been leading a dance out at Mohair, or some such barbarous place in the northwest. I looked it up on the map (Asquith, I mean), and then I began to think. I wondered who in the devil it might be who had taken my name and occupation, and all that. You see, I had just relieved the company of a little money, and it hit me like a clap of thunder one day that the idiot was you. But I couldn't be sure. And as long as I had to get out very soon anyway, I concluded to go to Mohair and make certain, and then pile things off on you if you happened to be the man.'" At this point Marian and I were seized with laughter, in which the Celebrity himself joined. Presently he continued: "'So I went,' said Allen. 'I provided myself with two disguises, as a careful man should, but by the time I reached that outlandish hole, Asquith, the little thing I was mixed up in burst prematurely, and the papers were full of it that morning. The whole place was out with sticks, so to speak, hunting for you. They told me the published description hit you to a dot, all except the scar, and they quarrelled about that. I posed as the promoter of resort syndicates, and I hired the Scimitar and sailed over to Bear Island; and I didn't have a bad time that afternoon, only Cooke insisted on making remarks about my whiskers, and I was in mortal fear lest he might accidentally pull one off. He came cursed near it. By the way, he's the very deuce of a man, isn't he? I knew he took me for a detective, so I played the part. And in the night that ass of a state senator nearly gave me pneumonia by getting me out in the air to tell me they had hid you in a cave. So I sat up all night, and followed the relief party in the morning, and you nearly disfigured me for life when you threw that bottle into the woods. Then I went back to camp, and left so fast that I forgot my extra pair of red whiskers. I had two of each disguise, you know, so I didn't miss them. "'I guess,' Mr. Allen went on, gleefully, 'that I got off about as cleanly as any criminal ever did, thanks to you. If we'd fixed the thing up between us it couldn't have been any neater, could it? Because I went straight to Far Harbor and got you into a peck of trouble, right away, and then slipped quietly into Canada, and put on the outfit of a travelling salesman. And right here another bright idea struck me. Why not carry the thing farther? I knew that you had advertised a trip to Europe (why, the Lord only knows), so I went East and sailed for England on the Canadian Line. And let me thank you for a little sport I had in a quiet way as the author of The Sybarites. I think I astonished some of your friends, old boy.'" The Celebrity lighted another cigarette. "So if it hadn't been for me," he said, "the 'Miles Standish Bicycle Company' wouldn't have gone to the wall. Can they sentence me for assisting Allen to get away, Crocker? If they can, I believe I shall stay over here." "I think you are safe," said I. "But didn't Allen tell you any more?" "No. A man he used to know came into the cafe, and Allen got out of the back door. And I never saw him again." "I believe I can tell you a little more," said Marian. ...................... The Celebrity is still writing books of a high moral tone and unapproachable principle, and his popularity is undiminished. I have not heard, however, that he has given way to any more whims. PG EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: A man's character often give the lie to his tongue A lie has short legs Appearance of a professional pallbearer Architects should be driven and not followed Consequential or inconsequential irrespective of their size Deal with a fool according to his folly Impervious to hints, and would not take no for an answer Old enough to know better, and too old to be taught That abominable word "like" End of Project Gutenberg's The Celebrity, Complete, by Winston Churchill *** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CELEBRITY, COMPLETE *** ***** This file should be named 5387.txt or 5387.zip ***** This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: http://www.gutenberg.net/5/3/8/5387/ Produced by David Widger Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will be renamed. 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trembled

How many times the word 'trembled' appears in the text?

Everhardt."' "Sew me up," said Mr. Cooke; "if that don't beat hell!" CHAPTER XXI In this world of lies the good and the bad are so closely intermingled that frequently one is the means of obtaining the other. Therefore, I wish very freely to express my obligations to the Celebrity for any share he may have had in contributing to the greatest happiness of my life. Marian and I were married the very next month, October, at my client's palatial residence of Mohair. This was at Mr. Cooke's earnest wish: and since Marian was Mrs. Cooke's own niece, and an orphan, there seemed no good reason why my client should not be humored in the matter. As for Marian and me, we did not much care whether we were married at Mohair or the City of Mexico. Mrs. Cooke, I think, had a secret preference for Germantown. Mr. Cooke quite over-reached himself in that wedding. "The knot was tied," as the papers expressed it, "under a huge bell of yellow roses." The paper also named the figure which the flowers and the collation and other things cost Mr. Cooke. A natural reticence forbids me to repeat it. But, lest my client should think that I undervalue his kindness, I will say that we had the grandest wedding ever seen in that part of the world. McCann was there, and Mr. Cooke saw to it that he had a punchbowl all to himself in which to drink our healths: Judge Short was there, still followed by the conjugal eye: and Senator Trevor, who remained over, in a new long black coat to kiss the bride. Mr. Cooke chartered two cars to carry guests from the East, besides those who came as ordinary citizens. Miss Trevor was of the party, and Farrar, of course, was best man. Would that I had the flow of words possessed by the reporter of the Chicago Sunday newspaper! But there is one thing I must mention before Mrs. Crocker and I leave for New York, in a shower of rice, on Mr. Cooke's own private car, and that is my client's gift. In addition to the check he gave Marian, he presented us with a huge, 'repousse' silver urn he had had made to order, and he expressed a desire that the design upon it should remind us of him forever and ever. I think it will. Mercury is duly set forth in a gorgeous equipage, driving four horses around the world at a furious pace; and the artist, by special instructions, had docked their tails. From New York, Mrs. Crocker and I went abroad. And it so chanced, in December, that we were staying a few days at a country-place in Sussex, and the subject of The Sybarites was broached at a dinner-party. The book was then having its sale in England. "Crocker," said our host, "do you happen to have met the author of that book? He's an American." I looked across the table at my wife, and we both laughed. "I happen to know him intimately," I replied. "Do you, now?" said the Englishman; "what a very entertaining chap he is, is he not? I had him down in October, and, by Jove, we were laughing the blessed time. He was telling us how he wrote his novels, and he said, 'pon my soul he did, that he had a secretary or something of that sort to whom he told the plot, and the secretary elaborated, you know, and wrote the draft. And he said, 'pon my honor, that sometimes the clark wrote the plot and all,--the whole blessed thing,--and that he never saw the book except to sign his name to it." "You say he was here in October?" asked Marian, when the laugh had subsided. "I have the date," answered our host, "for he left me an autograph copy of The Sybarites when he went away." And after dinner he showed us the book, with evident pride. Inscribed on the fly-leaf was the name of the author, October 10th. But a glance sufficed to convince both of us that the Celebrity had never written it. "John," said Marian to me, a suspicion of the truth crossing her mind, "John, can it be the bicycle man?" "Yes, it can be," I said; "it is." "Well," said Marian, "he's been doing a little more for our friend than we did." Nor was this the last we heard of that meteoric trip through England, which the alleged author of The Sybarites had indulged in. He did not go up to London; not he. It was given out that he was travelling for his health, that he did not wish to be lionized; and there were friends of the author in the metropolis who had never heard of his secretary, and who were at a loss to understand his conduct. They felt slighted. One of these told me that the Celebrity had been to a Lincolnshire estate where he had created a decided sensation by his riding to hounds, something the Celebrity had never been known to do. And before we crossed the Channel, Marian saw another autograph copy of the famous novel. One day, some months afterwards, we were sitting in our little salon in a Paris hotel when a card was sent up, which Marian took. "John," she cried, "it's the Celebrity." It was the Celebrity, in the flesh, faultlessly groomed and clothed, with frock coat, gloves, and stick. He looked the picture of ruddy, manly health and strength, and we saw at once that he bore no ill-will for the past. He congratulated us warmly, and it was my turn to offer him a cigarette. He was nothing loath to reminisce on the subject of his experiences in the wilds of the northern lakes, or even to laugh over them. He asked affectionately after his friend Cooke. Time had softened his feelings, and we learned that he had another girl, who was in Paris just then, and invited us on the spot to dine with her at "Joseph's." Let me say, in passing, that as usual she did credit to the Celebrity's exceptional taste. "Now," said he, "I have something to tell you two." He asked for another cigarette, and I laid the box beside him. "I suppose you reached Saville all right," I said, anticipating. "Seven at night," said he, "and so hungry that I ate what they call marble cake for supper, and a great many other things out of little side dishes, and nearly died of indigestion afterward. Then I took a train up to the main line. An express came along. 'Why not go West?' I asked myself, and I jumped aboard. It was another whim--you know I am subject to them. When I got to Victoria I wired for money and sailed to Japan; and then I went on to India and through the Suez, taking things easy. I fell in with some people I knew who were going where the spirit moved them, and I went along. "Algiers, for one place, and whom do you think I saw there, in the lobby of a hotel?" "Charles Wrexell Allen," cried Marian and I together. The Celebrity looked surprised. "How did you know?" he demanded. "Go on with your story," said Marian; "what did he do?" "What did he do?" said the Celebrity; "why, the blackguard stepped up and shook me by the hand, and asked after my health, and wanted to know whether I were married yet. He was so beastly familiar that I took out my glass, and I got him into a cafe for fear some one would see me with him. 'My dear fellow,' said he, 'you did me the turn of my life.--How can I ever repay you?' 'Hang your impudence,' said I, but I wanted to hear what he had to say. 'Don't lose your temper, old chap,' he laughed; 'you took a few liberties with my name, and there was no good reason why I shouldn't take some with yours. Was there? When I think of it, the thing was most decidedly convenient; it was the hand of Providence.' 'You took liberties with my name,' I cried. With that he coolly called to the waiter to fill our glasses. 'Now,' said he, 'I've got a story for you. Do you remember the cotillon, or whatever it was, that Cooke gave? Well, that was all in the Chicago papers, and the "Miles Standish" agent there saw it, and he knew pretty well that I wasn't West. So he sent me the papers, just for fun. You may imagine my surprise when I read that I had been leading a dance out at Mohair, or some such barbarous place in the northwest. I looked it up on the map (Asquith, I mean), and then I began to think. I wondered who in the devil it might be who had taken my name and occupation, and all that. You see, I had just relieved the company of a little money, and it hit me like a clap of thunder one day that the idiot was you. But I couldn't be sure. And as long as I had to get out very soon anyway, I concluded to go to Mohair and make certain, and then pile things off on you if you happened to be the man.'" At this point Marian and I were seized with laughter, in which the Celebrity himself joined. Presently he continued: "'So I went,' said Allen. 'I provided myself with two disguises, as a careful man should, but by the time I reached that outlandish hole, Asquith, the little thing I was mixed up in burst prematurely, and the papers were full of it that morning. The whole place was out with sticks, so to speak, hunting for you. They told me the published description hit you to a dot, all except the scar, and they quarrelled about that. I posed as the promoter of resort syndicates, and I hired the Scimitar and sailed over to Bear Island; and I didn't have a bad time that afternoon, only Cooke insisted on making remarks about my whiskers, and I was in mortal fear lest he might accidentally pull one off. He came cursed near it. By the way, he's the very deuce of a man, isn't he? I knew he took me for a detective, so I played the part. And in the night that ass of a state senator nearly gave me pneumonia by getting me out in the air to tell me they had hid you in a cave. So I sat up all night, and followed the relief party in the morning, and you nearly disfigured me for life when you threw that bottle into the woods. Then I went back to camp, and left so fast that I forgot my extra pair of red whiskers. I had two of each disguise, you know, so I didn't miss them. "'I guess,' Mr. Allen went on, gleefully, 'that I got off about as cleanly as any criminal ever did, thanks to you. If we'd fixed the thing up between us it couldn't have been any neater, could it? Because I went straight to Far Harbor and got you into a peck of trouble, right away, and then slipped quietly into Canada, and put on the outfit of a travelling salesman. And right here another bright idea struck me. Why not carry the thing farther? I knew that you had advertised a trip to Europe (why, the Lord only knows), so I went East and sailed for England on the Canadian Line. And let me thank you for a little sport I had in a quiet way as the author of The Sybarites. I think I astonished some of your friends, old boy.'" The Celebrity lighted another cigarette. "So if it hadn't been for me," he said, "the 'Miles Standish Bicycle Company' wouldn't have gone to the wall. Can they sentence me for assisting Allen to get away, Crocker? If they can, I believe I shall stay over here." "I think you are safe," said I. "But didn't Allen tell you any more?" "No. A man he used to know came into the cafe, and Allen got out of the back door. And I never saw him again." "I believe I can tell you a little more," said Marian. ...................... The Celebrity is still writing books of a high moral tone and unapproachable principle, and his popularity is undiminished. I have not heard, however, that he has given way to any more whims. PG EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: A man's character often give the lie to his tongue A lie has short legs Appearance of a professional pallbearer Architects should be driven and not followed Consequential or inconsequential irrespective of their size Deal with a fool according to his folly Impervious to hints, and would not take no for an answer Old enough to know better, and too old to be taught That abominable word "like" End of Project Gutenberg's The Celebrity, Complete, by Winston Churchill *** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CELEBRITY, COMPLETE *** ***** This file should be named 5387.txt or 5387.zip ***** This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: http://www.gutenberg.net/5/3/8/5387/ Produced by David Widger Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will be renamed. Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. 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Everhardt."' "Sew me up," said Mr. Cooke; "if that don't beat hell!" CHAPTER XXI In this world of lies the good and the bad are so closely intermingled that frequently one is the means of obtaining the other. Therefore, I wish very freely to express my obligations to the Celebrity for any share he may have had in contributing to the greatest happiness of my life. Marian and I were married the very next month, October, at my client's palatial residence of Mohair. This was at Mr. Cooke's earnest wish: and since Marian was Mrs. Cooke's own niece, and an orphan, there seemed no good reason why my client should not be humored in the matter. As for Marian and me, we did not much care whether we were married at Mohair or the City of Mexico. Mrs. Cooke, I think, had a secret preference for Germantown. Mr. Cooke quite over-reached himself in that wedding. "The knot was tied," as the papers expressed it, "under a huge bell of yellow roses." The paper also named the figure which the flowers and the collation and other things cost Mr. Cooke. A natural reticence forbids me to repeat it. But, lest my client should think that I undervalue his kindness, I will say that we had the grandest wedding ever seen in that part of the world. McCann was there, and Mr. Cooke saw to it that he had a punchbowl all to himself in which to drink our healths: Judge Short was there, still followed by the conjugal eye: and Senator Trevor, who remained over, in a new long black coat to kiss the bride. Mr. Cooke chartered two cars to carry guests from the East, besides those who came as ordinary citizens. Miss Trevor was of the party, and Farrar, of course, was best man. Would that I had the flow of words possessed by the reporter of the Chicago Sunday newspaper! But there is one thing I must mention before Mrs. Crocker and I leave for New York, in a shower of rice, on Mr. Cooke's own private car, and that is my client's gift. In addition to the check he gave Marian, he presented us with a huge, 'repousse' silver urn he had had made to order, and he expressed a desire that the design upon it should remind us of him forever and ever. I think it will. Mercury is duly set forth in a gorgeous equipage, driving four horses around the world at a furious pace; and the artist, by special instructions, had docked their tails. From New York, Mrs. Crocker and I went abroad. And it so chanced, in December, that we were staying a few days at a country-place in Sussex, and the subject of The Sybarites was broached at a dinner-party. The book was then having its sale in England. "Crocker," said our host, "do you happen to have met the author of that book? He's an American." I looked across the table at my wife, and we both laughed. "I happen to know him intimately," I replied. "Do you, now?" said the Englishman; "what a very entertaining chap he is, is he not? I had him down in October, and, by Jove, we were laughing the blessed time. He was telling us how he wrote his novels, and he said, 'pon my soul he did, that he had a secretary or something of that sort to whom he told the plot, and the secretary elaborated, you know, and wrote the draft. And he said, 'pon my honor, that sometimes the clark wrote the plot and all,--the whole blessed thing,--and that he never saw the book except to sign his name to it." "You say he was here in October?" asked Marian, when the laugh had subsided. "I have the date," answered our host, "for he left me an autograph copy of The Sybarites when he went away." And after dinner he showed us the book, with evident pride. Inscribed on the fly-leaf was the name of the author, October 10th. But a glance sufficed to convince both of us that the Celebrity had never written it. "John," said Marian to me, a suspicion of the truth crossing her mind, "John, can it be the bicycle man?" "Yes, it can be," I said; "it is." "Well," said Marian, "he's been doing a little more for our friend than we did." Nor was this the last we heard of that meteoric trip through England, which the alleged author of The Sybarites had indulged in. He did not go up to London; not he. It was given out that he was travelling for his health, that he did not wish to be lionized; and there were friends of the author in the metropolis who had never heard of his secretary, and who were at a loss to understand his conduct. They felt slighted. One of these told me that the Celebrity had been to a Lincolnshire estate where he had created a decided sensation by his riding to hounds, something the Celebrity had never been known to do. And before we crossed the Channel, Marian saw another autograph copy of the famous novel. One day, some months afterwards, we were sitting in our little salon in a Paris hotel when a card was sent up, which Marian took. "John," she cried, "it's the Celebrity." It was the Celebrity, in the flesh, faultlessly groomed and clothed, with frock coat, gloves, and stick. He looked the picture of ruddy, manly health and strength, and we saw at once that he bore no ill-will for the past. He congratulated us warmly, and it was my turn to offer him a cigarette. He was nothing loath to reminisce on the subject of his experiences in the wilds of the northern lakes, or even to laugh over them. He asked affectionately after his friend Cooke. Time had softened his feelings, and we learned that he had another girl, who was in Paris just then, and invited us on the spot to dine with her at "Joseph's." Let me say, in passing, that as usual she did credit to the Celebrity's exceptional taste. "Now," said he, "I have something to tell you two." He asked for another cigarette, and I laid the box beside him. "I suppose you reached Saville all right," I said, anticipating. "Seven at night," said he, "and so hungry that I ate what they call marble cake for supper, and a great many other things out of little side dishes, and nearly died of indigestion afterward. Then I took a train up to the main line. An express came along. 'Why not go West?' I asked myself, and I jumped aboard. It was another whim--you know I am subject to them. When I got to Victoria I wired for money and sailed to Japan; and then I went on to India and through the Suez, taking things easy. I fell in with some people I knew who were going where the spirit moved them, and I went along. "Algiers, for one place, and whom do you think I saw there, in the lobby of a hotel?" "Charles Wrexell Allen," cried Marian and I together. The Celebrity looked surprised. "How did you know?" he demanded. "Go on with your story," said Marian; "what did he do?" "What did he do?" said the Celebrity; "why, the blackguard stepped up and shook me by the hand, and asked after my health, and wanted to know whether I were married yet. He was so beastly familiar that I took out my glass, and I got him into a cafe for fear some one would see me with him. 'My dear fellow,' said he, 'you did me the turn of my life.--How can I ever repay you?' 'Hang your impudence,' said I, but I wanted to hear what he had to say. 'Don't lose your temper, old chap,' he laughed; 'you took a few liberties with my name, and there was no good reason why I shouldn't take some with yours. Was there? When I think of it, the thing was most decidedly convenient; it was the hand of Providence.' 'You took liberties with my name,' I cried. With that he coolly called to the waiter to fill our glasses. 'Now,' said he, 'I've got a story for you. Do you remember the cotillon, or whatever it was, that Cooke gave? Well, that was all in the Chicago papers, and the "Miles Standish" agent there saw it, and he knew pretty well that I wasn't West. So he sent me the papers, just for fun. You may imagine my surprise when I read that I had been leading a dance out at Mohair, or some such barbarous place in the northwest. I looked it up on the map (Asquith, I mean), and then I began to think. I wondered who in the devil it might be who had taken my name and occupation, and all that. You see, I had just relieved the company of a little money, and it hit me like a clap of thunder one day that the idiot was you. But I couldn't be sure. And as long as I had to get out very soon anyway, I concluded to go to Mohair and make certain, and then pile things off on you if you happened to be the man.'" At this point Marian and I were seized with laughter, in which the Celebrity himself joined. Presently he continued: "'So I went,' said Allen. 'I provided myself with two disguises, as a careful man should, but by the time I reached that outlandish hole, Asquith, the little thing I was mixed up in burst prematurely, and the papers were full of it that morning. The whole place was out with sticks, so to speak, hunting for you. They told me the published description hit you to a dot, all except the scar, and they quarrelled about that. I posed as the promoter of resort syndicates, and I hired the Scimitar and sailed over to Bear Island; and I didn't have a bad time that afternoon, only Cooke insisted on making remarks about my whiskers, and I was in mortal fear lest he might accidentally pull one off. He came cursed near it. By the way, he's the very deuce of a man, isn't he? I knew he took me for a detective, so I played the part. And in the night that ass of a state senator nearly gave me pneumonia by getting me out in the air to tell me they had hid you in a cave. So I sat up all night, and followed the relief party in the morning, and you nearly disfigured me for life when you threw that bottle into the woods. Then I went back to camp, and left so fast that I forgot my extra pair of red whiskers. I had two of each disguise, you know, so I didn't miss them. "'I guess,' Mr. Allen went on, gleefully, 'that I got off about as cleanly as any criminal ever did, thanks to you. If we'd fixed the thing up between us it couldn't have been any neater, could it? Because I went straight to Far Harbor and got you into a peck of trouble, right away, and then slipped quietly into Canada, and put on the outfit of a travelling salesman. And right here another bright idea struck me. Why not carry the thing farther? I knew that you had advertised a trip to Europe (why, the Lord only knows), so I went East and sailed for England on the Canadian Line. And let me thank you for a little sport I had in a quiet way as the author of The Sybarites. I think I astonished some of your friends, old boy.'" The Celebrity lighted another cigarette. "So if it hadn't been for me," he said, "the 'Miles Standish Bicycle Company' wouldn't have gone to the wall. Can they sentence me for assisting Allen to get away, Crocker? If they can, I believe I shall stay over here." "I think you are safe," said I. "But didn't Allen tell you any more?" "No. A man he used to know came into the cafe, and Allen got out of the back door. And I never saw him again." "I believe I can tell you a little more," said Marian. ...................... The Celebrity is still writing books of a high moral tone and unapproachable principle, and his popularity is undiminished. I have not heard, however, that he has given way to any more whims. PG EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: A man's character often give the lie to his tongue A lie has short legs Appearance of a professional pallbearer Architects should be driven and not followed Consequential or inconsequential irrespective of their size Deal with a fool according to his folly Impervious to hints, and would not take no for an answer Old enough to know better, and too old to be taught That abominable word "like" End of Project Gutenberg's The Celebrity, Complete, by Winston Churchill *** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CELEBRITY, COMPLETE *** ***** This file should be named 5387.txt or 5387.zip ***** This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: http://www.gutenberg.net/5/3/8/5387/ Produced by David Widger Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will be renamed. 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just

How many times the word 'just' appears in the text?

Everhardt."' "Sew me up," said Mr. Cooke; "if that don't beat hell!" CHAPTER XXI In this world of lies the good and the bad are so closely intermingled that frequently one is the means of obtaining the other. Therefore, I wish very freely to express my obligations to the Celebrity for any share he may have had in contributing to the greatest happiness of my life. Marian and I were married the very next month, October, at my client's palatial residence of Mohair. This was at Mr. Cooke's earnest wish: and since Marian was Mrs. Cooke's own niece, and an orphan, there seemed no good reason why my client should not be humored in the matter. As for Marian and me, we did not much care whether we were married at Mohair or the City of Mexico. Mrs. Cooke, I think, had a secret preference for Germantown. Mr. Cooke quite over-reached himself in that wedding. "The knot was tied," as the papers expressed it, "under a huge bell of yellow roses." The paper also named the figure which the flowers and the collation and other things cost Mr. Cooke. A natural reticence forbids me to repeat it. But, lest my client should think that I undervalue his kindness, I will say that we had the grandest wedding ever seen in that part of the world. McCann was there, and Mr. Cooke saw to it that he had a punchbowl all to himself in which to drink our healths: Judge Short was there, still followed by the conjugal eye: and Senator Trevor, who remained over, in a new long black coat to kiss the bride. Mr. Cooke chartered two cars to carry guests from the East, besides those who came as ordinary citizens. Miss Trevor was of the party, and Farrar, of course, was best man. Would that I had the flow of words possessed by the reporter of the Chicago Sunday newspaper! But there is one thing I must mention before Mrs. Crocker and I leave for New York, in a shower of rice, on Mr. Cooke's own private car, and that is my client's gift. In addition to the check he gave Marian, he presented us with a huge, 'repousse' silver urn he had had made to order, and he expressed a desire that the design upon it should remind us of him forever and ever. I think it will. Mercury is duly set forth in a gorgeous equipage, driving four horses around the world at a furious pace; and the artist, by special instructions, had docked their tails. From New York, Mrs. Crocker and I went abroad. And it so chanced, in December, that we were staying a few days at a country-place in Sussex, and the subject of The Sybarites was broached at a dinner-party. The book was then having its sale in England. "Crocker," said our host, "do you happen to have met the author of that book? He's an American." I looked across the table at my wife, and we both laughed. "I happen to know him intimately," I replied. "Do you, now?" said the Englishman; "what a very entertaining chap he is, is he not? I had him down in October, and, by Jove, we were laughing the blessed time. He was telling us how he wrote his novels, and he said, 'pon my soul he did, that he had a secretary or something of that sort to whom he told the plot, and the secretary elaborated, you know, and wrote the draft. And he said, 'pon my honor, that sometimes the clark wrote the plot and all,--the whole blessed thing,--and that he never saw the book except to sign his name to it." "You say he was here in October?" asked Marian, when the laugh had subsided. "I have the date," answered our host, "for he left me an autograph copy of The Sybarites when he went away." And after dinner he showed us the book, with evident pride. Inscribed on the fly-leaf was the name of the author, October 10th. But a glance sufficed to convince both of us that the Celebrity had never written it. "John," said Marian to me, a suspicion of the truth crossing her mind, "John, can it be the bicycle man?" "Yes, it can be," I said; "it is." "Well," said Marian, "he's been doing a little more for our friend than we did." Nor was this the last we heard of that meteoric trip through England, which the alleged author of The Sybarites had indulged in. He did not go up to London; not he. It was given out that he was travelling for his health, that he did not wish to be lionized; and there were friends of the author in the metropolis who had never heard of his secretary, and who were at a loss to understand his conduct. They felt slighted. One of these told me that the Celebrity had been to a Lincolnshire estate where he had created a decided sensation by his riding to hounds, something the Celebrity had never been known to do. And before we crossed the Channel, Marian saw another autograph copy of the famous novel. One day, some months afterwards, we were sitting in our little salon in a Paris hotel when a card was sent up, which Marian took. "John," she cried, "it's the Celebrity." It was the Celebrity, in the flesh, faultlessly groomed and clothed, with frock coat, gloves, and stick. He looked the picture of ruddy, manly health and strength, and we saw at once that he bore no ill-will for the past. He congratulated us warmly, and it was my turn to offer him a cigarette. He was nothing loath to reminisce on the subject of his experiences in the wilds of the northern lakes, or even to laugh over them. He asked affectionately after his friend Cooke. Time had softened his feelings, and we learned that he had another girl, who was in Paris just then, and invited us on the spot to dine with her at "Joseph's." Let me say, in passing, that as usual she did credit to the Celebrity's exceptional taste. "Now," said he, "I have something to tell you two." He asked for another cigarette, and I laid the box beside him. "I suppose you reached Saville all right," I said, anticipating. "Seven at night," said he, "and so hungry that I ate what they call marble cake for supper, and a great many other things out of little side dishes, and nearly died of indigestion afterward. Then I took a train up to the main line. An express came along. 'Why not go West?' I asked myself, and I jumped aboard. It was another whim--you know I am subject to them. When I got to Victoria I wired for money and sailed to Japan; and then I went on to India and through the Suez, taking things easy. I fell in with some people I knew who were going where the spirit moved them, and I went along. "Algiers, for one place, and whom do you think I saw there, in the lobby of a hotel?" "Charles Wrexell Allen," cried Marian and I together. The Celebrity looked surprised. "How did you know?" he demanded. "Go on with your story," said Marian; "what did he do?" "What did he do?" said the Celebrity; "why, the blackguard stepped up and shook me by the hand, and asked after my health, and wanted to know whether I were married yet. He was so beastly familiar that I took out my glass, and I got him into a cafe for fear some one would see me with him. 'My dear fellow,' said he, 'you did me the turn of my life.--How can I ever repay you?' 'Hang your impudence,' said I, but I wanted to hear what he had to say. 'Don't lose your temper, old chap,' he laughed; 'you took a few liberties with my name, and there was no good reason why I shouldn't take some with yours. Was there? When I think of it, the thing was most decidedly convenient; it was the hand of Providence.' 'You took liberties with my name,' I cried. With that he coolly called to the waiter to fill our glasses. 'Now,' said he, 'I've got a story for you. Do you remember the cotillon, or whatever it was, that Cooke gave? Well, that was all in the Chicago papers, and the "Miles Standish" agent there saw it, and he knew pretty well that I wasn't West. So he sent me the papers, just for fun. You may imagine my surprise when I read that I had been leading a dance out at Mohair, or some such barbarous place in the northwest. I looked it up on the map (Asquith, I mean), and then I began to think. I wondered who in the devil it might be who had taken my name and occupation, and all that. You see, I had just relieved the company of a little money, and it hit me like a clap of thunder one day that the idiot was you. But I couldn't be sure. And as long as I had to get out very soon anyway, I concluded to go to Mohair and make certain, and then pile things off on you if you happened to be the man.'" At this point Marian and I were seized with laughter, in which the Celebrity himself joined. Presently he continued: "'So I went,' said Allen. 'I provided myself with two disguises, as a careful man should, but by the time I reached that outlandish hole, Asquith, the little thing I was mixed up in burst prematurely, and the papers were full of it that morning. The whole place was out with sticks, so to speak, hunting for you. They told me the published description hit you to a dot, all except the scar, and they quarrelled about that. I posed as the promoter of resort syndicates, and I hired the Scimitar and sailed over to Bear Island; and I didn't have a bad time that afternoon, only Cooke insisted on making remarks about my whiskers, and I was in mortal fear lest he might accidentally pull one off. He came cursed near it. By the way, he's the very deuce of a man, isn't he? I knew he took me for a detective, so I played the part. And in the night that ass of a state senator nearly gave me pneumonia by getting me out in the air to tell me they had hid you in a cave. So I sat up all night, and followed the relief party in the morning, and you nearly disfigured me for life when you threw that bottle into the woods. Then I went back to camp, and left so fast that I forgot my extra pair of red whiskers. I had two of each disguise, you know, so I didn't miss them. "'I guess,' Mr. Allen went on, gleefully, 'that I got off about as cleanly as any criminal ever did, thanks to you. If we'd fixed the thing up between us it couldn't have been any neater, could it? Because I went straight to Far Harbor and got you into a peck of trouble, right away, and then slipped quietly into Canada, and put on the outfit of a travelling salesman. And right here another bright idea struck me. Why not carry the thing farther? I knew that you had advertised a trip to Europe (why, the Lord only knows), so I went East and sailed for England on the Canadian Line. And let me thank you for a little sport I had in a quiet way as the author of The Sybarites. I think I astonished some of your friends, old boy.'" The Celebrity lighted another cigarette. "So if it hadn't been for me," he said, "the 'Miles Standish Bicycle Company' wouldn't have gone to the wall. Can they sentence me for assisting Allen to get away, Crocker? If they can, I believe I shall stay over here." "I think you are safe," said I. "But didn't Allen tell you any more?" "No. A man he used to know came into the cafe, and Allen got out of the back door. And I never saw him again." "I believe I can tell you a little more," said Marian. ...................... The Celebrity is still writing books of a high moral tone and unapproachable principle, and his popularity is undiminished. I have not heard, however, that he has given way to any more whims. PG EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: A man's character often give the lie to his tongue A lie has short legs Appearance of a professional pallbearer Architects should be driven and not followed Consequential or inconsequential irrespective of their size Deal with a fool according to his folly Impervious to hints, and would not take no for an answer Old enough to know better, and too old to be taught That abominable word "like" End of Project Gutenberg's The Celebrity, Complete, by Winston Churchill *** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CELEBRITY, COMPLETE *** ***** This file should be named 5387.txt or 5387.zip ***** This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: http://www.gutenberg.net/5/3/8/5387/ Produced by David Widger Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will be renamed. 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Everhardt."' "Sew me up," said Mr. Cooke; "if that don't beat hell!" CHAPTER XXI In this world of lies the good and the bad are so closely intermingled that frequently one is the means of obtaining the other. Therefore, I wish very freely to express my obligations to the Celebrity for any share he may have had in contributing to the greatest happiness of my life. Marian and I were married the very next month, October, at my client's palatial residence of Mohair. This was at Mr. Cooke's earnest wish: and since Marian was Mrs. Cooke's own niece, and an orphan, there seemed no good reason why my client should not be humored in the matter. As for Marian and me, we did not much care whether we were married at Mohair or the City of Mexico. Mrs. Cooke, I think, had a secret preference for Germantown. Mr. Cooke quite over-reached himself in that wedding. "The knot was tied," as the papers expressed it, "under a huge bell of yellow roses." The paper also named the figure which the flowers and the collation and other things cost Mr. Cooke. A natural reticence forbids me to repeat it. But, lest my client should think that I undervalue his kindness, I will say that we had the grandest wedding ever seen in that part of the world. McCann was there, and Mr. Cooke saw to it that he had a punchbowl all to himself in which to drink our healths: Judge Short was there, still followed by the conjugal eye: and Senator Trevor, who remained over, in a new long black coat to kiss the bride. Mr. Cooke chartered two cars to carry guests from the East, besides those who came as ordinary citizens. Miss Trevor was of the party, and Farrar, of course, was best man. Would that I had the flow of words possessed by the reporter of the Chicago Sunday newspaper! But there is one thing I must mention before Mrs. Crocker and I leave for New York, in a shower of rice, on Mr. Cooke's own private car, and that is my client's gift. In addition to the check he gave Marian, he presented us with a huge, 'repousse' silver urn he had had made to order, and he expressed a desire that the design upon it should remind us of him forever and ever. I think it will. Mercury is duly set forth in a gorgeous equipage, driving four horses around the world at a furious pace; and the artist, by special instructions, had docked their tails. From New York, Mrs. Crocker and I went abroad. And it so chanced, in December, that we were staying a few days at a country-place in Sussex, and the subject of The Sybarites was broached at a dinner-party. The book was then having its sale in England. "Crocker," said our host, "do you happen to have met the author of that book? He's an American." I looked across the table at my wife, and we both laughed. "I happen to know him intimately," I replied. "Do you, now?" said the Englishman; "what a very entertaining chap he is, is he not? I had him down in October, and, by Jove, we were laughing the blessed time. He was telling us how he wrote his novels, and he said, 'pon my soul he did, that he had a secretary or something of that sort to whom he told the plot, and the secretary elaborated, you know, and wrote the draft. And he said, 'pon my honor, that sometimes the clark wrote the plot and all,--the whole blessed thing,--and that he never saw the book except to sign his name to it." "You say he was here in October?" asked Marian, when the laugh had subsided. "I have the date," answered our host, "for he left me an autograph copy of The Sybarites when he went away." And after dinner he showed us the book, with evident pride. Inscribed on the fly-leaf was the name of the author, October 10th. But a glance sufficed to convince both of us that the Celebrity had never written it. "John," said Marian to me, a suspicion of the truth crossing her mind, "John, can it be the bicycle man?" "Yes, it can be," I said; "it is." "Well," said Marian, "he's been doing a little more for our friend than we did." Nor was this the last we heard of that meteoric trip through England, which the alleged author of The Sybarites had indulged in. He did not go up to London; not he. It was given out that he was travelling for his health, that he did not wish to be lionized; and there were friends of the author in the metropolis who had never heard of his secretary, and who were at a loss to understand his conduct. They felt slighted. One of these told me that the Celebrity had been to a Lincolnshire estate where he had created a decided sensation by his riding to hounds, something the Celebrity had never been known to do. And before we crossed the Channel, Marian saw another autograph copy of the famous novel. One day, some months afterwards, we were sitting in our little salon in a Paris hotel when a card was sent up, which Marian took. "John," she cried, "it's the Celebrity." It was the Celebrity, in the flesh, faultlessly groomed and clothed, with frock coat, gloves, and stick. He looked the picture of ruddy, manly health and strength, and we saw at once that he bore no ill-will for the past. He congratulated us warmly, and it was my turn to offer him a cigarette. He was nothing loath to reminisce on the subject of his experiences in the wilds of the northern lakes, or even to laugh over them. He asked affectionately after his friend Cooke. Time had softened his feelings, and we learned that he had another girl, who was in Paris just then, and invited us on the spot to dine with her at "Joseph's." Let me say, in passing, that as usual she did credit to the Celebrity's exceptional taste. "Now," said he, "I have something to tell you two." He asked for another cigarette, and I laid the box beside him. "I suppose you reached Saville all right," I said, anticipating. "Seven at night," said he, "and so hungry that I ate what they call marble cake for supper, and a great many other things out of little side dishes, and nearly died of indigestion afterward. Then I took a train up to the main line. An express came along. 'Why not go West?' I asked myself, and I jumped aboard. It was another whim--you know I am subject to them. When I got to Victoria I wired for money and sailed to Japan; and then I went on to India and through the Suez, taking things easy. I fell in with some people I knew who were going where the spirit moved them, and I went along. "Algiers, for one place, and whom do you think I saw there, in the lobby of a hotel?" "Charles Wrexell Allen," cried Marian and I together. The Celebrity looked surprised. "How did you know?" he demanded. "Go on with your story," said Marian; "what did he do?" "What did he do?" said the Celebrity; "why, the blackguard stepped up and shook me by the hand, and asked after my health, and wanted to know whether I were married yet. He was so beastly familiar that I took out my glass, and I got him into a cafe for fear some one would see me with him. 'My dear fellow,' said he, 'you did me the turn of my life.--How can I ever repay you?' 'Hang your impudence,' said I, but I wanted to hear what he had to say. 'Don't lose your temper, old chap,' he laughed; 'you took a few liberties with my name, and there was no good reason why I shouldn't take some with yours. Was there? When I think of it, the thing was most decidedly convenient; it was the hand of Providence.' 'You took liberties with my name,' I cried. With that he coolly called to the waiter to fill our glasses. 'Now,' said he, 'I've got a story for you. Do you remember the cotillon, or whatever it was, that Cooke gave? Well, that was all in the Chicago papers, and the "Miles Standish" agent there saw it, and he knew pretty well that I wasn't West. So he sent me the papers, just for fun. You may imagine my surprise when I read that I had been leading a dance out at Mohair, or some such barbarous place in the northwest. I looked it up on the map (Asquith, I mean), and then I began to think. I wondered who in the devil it might be who had taken my name and occupation, and all that. You see, I had just relieved the company of a little money, and it hit me like a clap of thunder one day that the idiot was you. But I couldn't be sure. And as long as I had to get out very soon anyway, I concluded to go to Mohair and make certain, and then pile things off on you if you happened to be the man.'" At this point Marian and I were seized with laughter, in which the Celebrity himself joined. Presently he continued: "'So I went,' said Allen. 'I provided myself with two disguises, as a careful man should, but by the time I reached that outlandish hole, Asquith, the little thing I was mixed up in burst prematurely, and the papers were full of it that morning. The whole place was out with sticks, so to speak, hunting for you. They told me the published description hit you to a dot, all except the scar, and they quarrelled about that. I posed as the promoter of resort syndicates, and I hired the Scimitar and sailed over to Bear Island; and I didn't have a bad time that afternoon, only Cooke insisted on making remarks about my whiskers, and I was in mortal fear lest he might accidentally pull one off. He came cursed near it. By the way, he's the very deuce of a man, isn't he? I knew he took me for a detective, so I played the part. And in the night that ass of a state senator nearly gave me pneumonia by getting me out in the air to tell me they had hid you in a cave. So I sat up all night, and followed the relief party in the morning, and you nearly disfigured me for life when you threw that bottle into the woods. Then I went back to camp, and left so fast that I forgot my extra pair of red whiskers. I had two of each disguise, you know, so I didn't miss them. "'I guess,' Mr. Allen went on, gleefully, 'that I got off about as cleanly as any criminal ever did, thanks to you. If we'd fixed the thing up between us it couldn't have been any neater, could it? Because I went straight to Far Harbor and got you into a peck of trouble, right away, and then slipped quietly into Canada, and put on the outfit of a travelling salesman. And right here another bright idea struck me. Why not carry the thing farther? I knew that you had advertised a trip to Europe (why, the Lord only knows), so I went East and sailed for England on the Canadian Line. And let me thank you for a little sport I had in a quiet way as the author of The Sybarites. I think I astonished some of your friends, old boy.'" The Celebrity lighted another cigarette. "So if it hadn't been for me," he said, "the 'Miles Standish Bicycle Company' wouldn't have gone to the wall. Can they sentence me for assisting Allen to get away, Crocker? If they can, I believe I shall stay over here." "I think you are safe," said I. "But didn't Allen tell you any more?" "No. A man he used to know came into the cafe, and Allen got out of the back door. And I never saw him again." "I believe I can tell you a little more," said Marian. ...................... The Celebrity is still writing books of a high moral tone and unapproachable principle, and his popularity is undiminished. I have not heard, however, that he has given way to any more whims. PG EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: A man's character often give the lie to his tongue A lie has short legs Appearance of a professional pallbearer Architects should be driven and not followed Consequential or inconsequential irrespective of their size Deal with a fool according to his folly Impervious to hints, and would not take no for an answer Old enough to know better, and too old to be taught That abominable word "like" End of Project Gutenberg's The Celebrity, Complete, by Winston Churchill *** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CELEBRITY, COMPLETE *** ***** This file should be named 5387.txt or 5387.zip ***** This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: http://www.gutenberg.net/5/3/8/5387/ Produced by David Widger Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will be renamed. 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does

How many times the word 'does' appears in the text?

Everhardt."' "Sew me up," said Mr. Cooke; "if that don't beat hell!" CHAPTER XXI In this world of lies the good and the bad are so closely intermingled that frequently one is the means of obtaining the other. Therefore, I wish very freely to express my obligations to the Celebrity for any share he may have had in contributing to the greatest happiness of my life. Marian and I were married the very next month, October, at my client's palatial residence of Mohair. This was at Mr. Cooke's earnest wish: and since Marian was Mrs. Cooke's own niece, and an orphan, there seemed no good reason why my client should not be humored in the matter. As for Marian and me, we did not much care whether we were married at Mohair or the City of Mexico. Mrs. Cooke, I think, had a secret preference for Germantown. Mr. Cooke quite over-reached himself in that wedding. "The knot was tied," as the papers expressed it, "under a huge bell of yellow roses." The paper also named the figure which the flowers and the collation and other things cost Mr. Cooke. A natural reticence forbids me to repeat it. But, lest my client should think that I undervalue his kindness, I will say that we had the grandest wedding ever seen in that part of the world. McCann was there, and Mr. Cooke saw to it that he had a punchbowl all to himself in which to drink our healths: Judge Short was there, still followed by the conjugal eye: and Senator Trevor, who remained over, in a new long black coat to kiss the bride. Mr. Cooke chartered two cars to carry guests from the East, besides those who came as ordinary citizens. Miss Trevor was of the party, and Farrar, of course, was best man. Would that I had the flow of words possessed by the reporter of the Chicago Sunday newspaper! But there is one thing I must mention before Mrs. Crocker and I leave for New York, in a shower of rice, on Mr. Cooke's own private car, and that is my client's gift. In addition to the check he gave Marian, he presented us with a huge, 'repousse' silver urn he had had made to order, and he expressed a desire that the design upon it should remind us of him forever and ever. I think it will. Mercury is duly set forth in a gorgeous equipage, driving four horses around the world at a furious pace; and the artist, by special instructions, had docked their tails. From New York, Mrs. Crocker and I went abroad. And it so chanced, in December, that we were staying a few days at a country-place in Sussex, and the subject of The Sybarites was broached at a dinner-party. The book was then having its sale in England. "Crocker," said our host, "do you happen to have met the author of that book? He's an American." I looked across the table at my wife, and we both laughed. "I happen to know him intimately," I replied. "Do you, now?" said the Englishman; "what a very entertaining chap he is, is he not? I had him down in October, and, by Jove, we were laughing the blessed time. He was telling us how he wrote his novels, and he said, 'pon my soul he did, that he had a secretary or something of that sort to whom he told the plot, and the secretary elaborated, you know, and wrote the draft. And he said, 'pon my honor, that sometimes the clark wrote the plot and all,--the whole blessed thing,--and that he never saw the book except to sign his name to it." "You say he was here in October?" asked Marian, when the laugh had subsided. "I have the date," answered our host, "for he left me an autograph copy of The Sybarites when he went away." And after dinner he showed us the book, with evident pride. Inscribed on the fly-leaf was the name of the author, October 10th. But a glance sufficed to convince both of us that the Celebrity had never written it. "John," said Marian to me, a suspicion of the truth crossing her mind, "John, can it be the bicycle man?" "Yes, it can be," I said; "it is." "Well," said Marian, "he's been doing a little more for our friend than we did." Nor was this the last we heard of that meteoric trip through England, which the alleged author of The Sybarites had indulged in. He did not go up to London; not he. It was given out that he was travelling for his health, that he did not wish to be lionized; and there were friends of the author in the metropolis who had never heard of his secretary, and who were at a loss to understand his conduct. They felt slighted. One of these told me that the Celebrity had been to a Lincolnshire estate where he had created a decided sensation by his riding to hounds, something the Celebrity had never been known to do. And before we crossed the Channel, Marian saw another autograph copy of the famous novel. One day, some months afterwards, we were sitting in our little salon in a Paris hotel when a card was sent up, which Marian took. "John," she cried, "it's the Celebrity." It was the Celebrity, in the flesh, faultlessly groomed and clothed, with frock coat, gloves, and stick. He looked the picture of ruddy, manly health and strength, and we saw at once that he bore no ill-will for the past. He congratulated us warmly, and it was my turn to offer him a cigarette. He was nothing loath to reminisce on the subject of his experiences in the wilds of the northern lakes, or even to laugh over them. He asked affectionately after his friend Cooke. Time had softened his feelings, and we learned that he had another girl, who was in Paris just then, and invited us on the spot to dine with her at "Joseph's." Let me say, in passing, that as usual she did credit to the Celebrity's exceptional taste. "Now," said he, "I have something to tell you two." He asked for another cigarette, and I laid the box beside him. "I suppose you reached Saville all right," I said, anticipating. "Seven at night," said he, "and so hungry that I ate what they call marble cake for supper, and a great many other things out of little side dishes, and nearly died of indigestion afterward. Then I took a train up to the main line. An express came along. 'Why not go West?' I asked myself, and I jumped aboard. It was another whim--you know I am subject to them. When I got to Victoria I wired for money and sailed to Japan; and then I went on to India and through the Suez, taking things easy. I fell in with some people I knew who were going where the spirit moved them, and I went along. "Algiers, for one place, and whom do you think I saw there, in the lobby of a hotel?" "Charles Wrexell Allen," cried Marian and I together. The Celebrity looked surprised. "How did you know?" he demanded. "Go on with your story," said Marian; "what did he do?" "What did he do?" said the Celebrity; "why, the blackguard stepped up and shook me by the hand, and asked after my health, and wanted to know whether I were married yet. He was so beastly familiar that I took out my glass, and I got him into a cafe for fear some one would see me with him. 'My dear fellow,' said he, 'you did me the turn of my life.--How can I ever repay you?' 'Hang your impudence,' said I, but I wanted to hear what he had to say. 'Don't lose your temper, old chap,' he laughed; 'you took a few liberties with my name, and there was no good reason why I shouldn't take some with yours. Was there? When I think of it, the thing was most decidedly convenient; it was the hand of Providence.' 'You took liberties with my name,' I cried. With that he coolly called to the waiter to fill our glasses. 'Now,' said he, 'I've got a story for you. Do you remember the cotillon, or whatever it was, that Cooke gave? Well, that was all in the Chicago papers, and the "Miles Standish" agent there saw it, and he knew pretty well that I wasn't West. So he sent me the papers, just for fun. You may imagine my surprise when I read that I had been leading a dance out at Mohair, or some such barbarous place in the northwest. I looked it up on the map (Asquith, I mean), and then I began to think. I wondered who in the devil it might be who had taken my name and occupation, and all that. You see, I had just relieved the company of a little money, and it hit me like a clap of thunder one day that the idiot was you. But I couldn't be sure. And as long as I had to get out very soon anyway, I concluded to go to Mohair and make certain, and then pile things off on you if you happened to be the man.'" At this point Marian and I were seized with laughter, in which the Celebrity himself joined. Presently he continued: "'So I went,' said Allen. 'I provided myself with two disguises, as a careful man should, but by the time I reached that outlandish hole, Asquith, the little thing I was mixed up in burst prematurely, and the papers were full of it that morning. The whole place was out with sticks, so to speak, hunting for you. They told me the published description hit you to a dot, all except the scar, and they quarrelled about that. I posed as the promoter of resort syndicates, and I hired the Scimitar and sailed over to Bear Island; and I didn't have a bad time that afternoon, only Cooke insisted on making remarks about my whiskers, and I was in mortal fear lest he might accidentally pull one off. He came cursed near it. By the way, he's the very deuce of a man, isn't he? I knew he took me for a detective, so I played the part. And in the night that ass of a state senator nearly gave me pneumonia by getting me out in the air to tell me they had hid you in a cave. So I sat up all night, and followed the relief party in the morning, and you nearly disfigured me for life when you threw that bottle into the woods. Then I went back to camp, and left so fast that I forgot my extra pair of red whiskers. I had two of each disguise, you know, so I didn't miss them. "'I guess,' Mr. Allen went on, gleefully, 'that I got off about as cleanly as any criminal ever did, thanks to you. If we'd fixed the thing up between us it couldn't have been any neater, could it? Because I went straight to Far Harbor and got you into a peck of trouble, right away, and then slipped quietly into Canada, and put on the outfit of a travelling salesman. And right here another bright idea struck me. Why not carry the thing farther? I knew that you had advertised a trip to Europe (why, the Lord only knows), so I went East and sailed for England on the Canadian Line. And let me thank you for a little sport I had in a quiet way as the author of The Sybarites. I think I astonished some of your friends, old boy.'" The Celebrity lighted another cigarette. "So if it hadn't been for me," he said, "the 'Miles Standish Bicycle Company' wouldn't have gone to the wall. Can they sentence me for assisting Allen to get away, Crocker? If they can, I believe I shall stay over here." "I think you are safe," said I. "But didn't Allen tell you any more?" "No. A man he used to know came into the cafe, and Allen got out of the back door. And I never saw him again." "I believe I can tell you a little more," said Marian. ...................... The Celebrity is still writing books of a high moral tone and unapproachable principle, and his popularity is undiminished. I have not heard, however, that he has given way to any more whims. PG EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: A man's character often give the lie to his tongue A lie has short legs Appearance of a professional pallbearer Architects should be driven and not followed Consequential or inconsequential irrespective of their size Deal with a fool according to his folly Impervious to hints, and would not take no for an answer Old enough to know better, and too old to be taught That abominable word "like" End of Project Gutenberg's The Celebrity, Complete, by Winston Churchill *** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CELEBRITY, COMPLETE *** ***** This file should be named 5387.txt or 5387.zip ***** This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: http://www.gutenberg.net/5/3/8/5387/ Produced by David Widger Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will be renamed. 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expense

How many times the word 'expense' appears in the text?

Everhardt."' "Sew me up," said Mr. Cooke; "if that don't beat hell!" CHAPTER XXI In this world of lies the good and the bad are so closely intermingled that frequently one is the means of obtaining the other. Therefore, I wish very freely to express my obligations to the Celebrity for any share he may have had in contributing to the greatest happiness of my life. Marian and I were married the very next month, October, at my client's palatial residence of Mohair. This was at Mr. Cooke's earnest wish: and since Marian was Mrs. Cooke's own niece, and an orphan, there seemed no good reason why my client should not be humored in the matter. As for Marian and me, we did not much care whether we were married at Mohair or the City of Mexico. Mrs. Cooke, I think, had a secret preference for Germantown. Mr. Cooke quite over-reached himself in that wedding. "The knot was tied," as the papers expressed it, "under a huge bell of yellow roses." The paper also named the figure which the flowers and the collation and other things cost Mr. Cooke. A natural reticence forbids me to repeat it. But, lest my client should think that I undervalue his kindness, I will say that we had the grandest wedding ever seen in that part of the world. McCann was there, and Mr. Cooke saw to it that he had a punchbowl all to himself in which to drink our healths: Judge Short was there, still followed by the conjugal eye: and Senator Trevor, who remained over, in a new long black coat to kiss the bride. Mr. Cooke chartered two cars to carry guests from the East, besides those who came as ordinary citizens. Miss Trevor was of the party, and Farrar, of course, was best man. Would that I had the flow of words possessed by the reporter of the Chicago Sunday newspaper! But there is one thing I must mention before Mrs. Crocker and I leave for New York, in a shower of rice, on Mr. Cooke's own private car, and that is my client's gift. In addition to the check he gave Marian, he presented us with a huge, 'repousse' silver urn he had had made to order, and he expressed a desire that the design upon it should remind us of him forever and ever. I think it will. Mercury is duly set forth in a gorgeous equipage, driving four horses around the world at a furious pace; and the artist, by special instructions, had docked their tails. From New York, Mrs. Crocker and I went abroad. And it so chanced, in December, that we were staying a few days at a country-place in Sussex, and the subject of The Sybarites was broached at a dinner-party. The book was then having its sale in England. "Crocker," said our host, "do you happen to have met the author of that book? He's an American." I looked across the table at my wife, and we both laughed. "I happen to know him intimately," I replied. "Do you, now?" said the Englishman; "what a very entertaining chap he is, is he not? I had him down in October, and, by Jove, we were laughing the blessed time. He was telling us how he wrote his novels, and he said, 'pon my soul he did, that he had a secretary or something of that sort to whom he told the plot, and the secretary elaborated, you know, and wrote the draft. And he said, 'pon my honor, that sometimes the clark wrote the plot and all,--the whole blessed thing,--and that he never saw the book except to sign his name to it." "You say he was here in October?" asked Marian, when the laugh had subsided. "I have the date," answered our host, "for he left me an autograph copy of The Sybarites when he went away." And after dinner he showed us the book, with evident pride. Inscribed on the fly-leaf was the name of the author, October 10th. But a glance sufficed to convince both of us that the Celebrity had never written it. "John," said Marian to me, a suspicion of the truth crossing her mind, "John, can it be the bicycle man?" "Yes, it can be," I said; "it is." "Well," said Marian, "he's been doing a little more for our friend than we did." Nor was this the last we heard of that meteoric trip through England, which the alleged author of The Sybarites had indulged in. He did not go up to London; not he. It was given out that he was travelling for his health, that he did not wish to be lionized; and there were friends of the author in the metropolis who had never heard of his secretary, and who were at a loss to understand his conduct. They felt slighted. One of these told me that the Celebrity had been to a Lincolnshire estate where he had created a decided sensation by his riding to hounds, something the Celebrity had never been known to do. And before we crossed the Channel, Marian saw another autograph copy of the famous novel. One day, some months afterwards, we were sitting in our little salon in a Paris hotel when a card was sent up, which Marian took. "John," she cried, "it's the Celebrity." It was the Celebrity, in the flesh, faultlessly groomed and clothed, with frock coat, gloves, and stick. He looked the picture of ruddy, manly health and strength, and we saw at once that he bore no ill-will for the past. He congratulated us warmly, and it was my turn to offer him a cigarette. He was nothing loath to reminisce on the subject of his experiences in the wilds of the northern lakes, or even to laugh over them. He asked affectionately after his friend Cooke. Time had softened his feelings, and we learned that he had another girl, who was in Paris just then, and invited us on the spot to dine with her at "Joseph's." Let me say, in passing, that as usual she did credit to the Celebrity's exceptional taste. "Now," said he, "I have something to tell you two." He asked for another cigarette, and I laid the box beside him. "I suppose you reached Saville all right," I said, anticipating. "Seven at night," said he, "and so hungry that I ate what they call marble cake for supper, and a great many other things out of little side dishes, and nearly died of indigestion afterward. Then I took a train up to the main line. An express came along. 'Why not go West?' I asked myself, and I jumped aboard. It was another whim--you know I am subject to them. When I got to Victoria I wired for money and sailed to Japan; and then I went on to India and through the Suez, taking things easy. I fell in with some people I knew who were going where the spirit moved them, and I went along. "Algiers, for one place, and whom do you think I saw there, in the lobby of a hotel?" "Charles Wrexell Allen," cried Marian and I together. The Celebrity looked surprised. "How did you know?" he demanded. "Go on with your story," said Marian; "what did he do?" "What did he do?" said the Celebrity; "why, the blackguard stepped up and shook me by the hand, and asked after my health, and wanted to know whether I were married yet. He was so beastly familiar that I took out my glass, and I got him into a cafe for fear some one would see me with him. 'My dear fellow,' said he, 'you did me the turn of my life.--How can I ever repay you?' 'Hang your impudence,' said I, but I wanted to hear what he had to say. 'Don't lose your temper, old chap,' he laughed; 'you took a few liberties with my name, and there was no good reason why I shouldn't take some with yours. Was there? When I think of it, the thing was most decidedly convenient; it was the hand of Providence.' 'You took liberties with my name,' I cried. With that he coolly called to the waiter to fill our glasses. 'Now,' said he, 'I've got a story for you. Do you remember the cotillon, or whatever it was, that Cooke gave? Well, that was all in the Chicago papers, and the "Miles Standish" agent there saw it, and he knew pretty well that I wasn't West. So he sent me the papers, just for fun. You may imagine my surprise when I read that I had been leading a dance out at Mohair, or some such barbarous place in the northwest. I looked it up on the map (Asquith, I mean), and then I began to think. I wondered who in the devil it might be who had taken my name and occupation, and all that. You see, I had just relieved the company of a little money, and it hit me like a clap of thunder one day that the idiot was you. But I couldn't be sure. And as long as I had to get out very soon anyway, I concluded to go to Mohair and make certain, and then pile things off on you if you happened to be the man.'" At this point Marian and I were seized with laughter, in which the Celebrity himself joined. Presently he continued: "'So I went,' said Allen. 'I provided myself with two disguises, as a careful man should, but by the time I reached that outlandish hole, Asquith, the little thing I was mixed up in burst prematurely, and the papers were full of it that morning. The whole place was out with sticks, so to speak, hunting for you. They told me the published description hit you to a dot, all except the scar, and they quarrelled about that. I posed as the promoter of resort syndicates, and I hired the Scimitar and sailed over to Bear Island; and I didn't have a bad time that afternoon, only Cooke insisted on making remarks about my whiskers, and I was in mortal fear lest he might accidentally pull one off. He came cursed near it. By the way, he's the very deuce of a man, isn't he? I knew he took me for a detective, so I played the part. And in the night that ass of a state senator nearly gave me pneumonia by getting me out in the air to tell me they had hid you in a cave. So I sat up all night, and followed the relief party in the morning, and you nearly disfigured me for life when you threw that bottle into the woods. Then I went back to camp, and left so fast that I forgot my extra pair of red whiskers. I had two of each disguise, you know, so I didn't miss them. "'I guess,' Mr. Allen went on, gleefully, 'that I got off about as cleanly as any criminal ever did, thanks to you. If we'd fixed the thing up between us it couldn't have been any neater, could it? Because I went straight to Far Harbor and got you into a peck of trouble, right away, and then slipped quietly into Canada, and put on the outfit of a travelling salesman. And right here another bright idea struck me. Why not carry the thing farther? I knew that you had advertised a trip to Europe (why, the Lord only knows), so I went East and sailed for England on the Canadian Line. And let me thank you for a little sport I had in a quiet way as the author of The Sybarites. I think I astonished some of your friends, old boy.'" The Celebrity lighted another cigarette. "So if it hadn't been for me," he said, "the 'Miles Standish Bicycle Company' wouldn't have gone to the wall. Can they sentence me for assisting Allen to get away, Crocker? If they can, I believe I shall stay over here." "I think you are safe," said I. "But didn't Allen tell you any more?" "No. A man he used to know came into the cafe, and Allen got out of the back door. And I never saw him again." "I believe I can tell you a little more," said Marian. ...................... The Celebrity is still writing books of a high moral tone and unapproachable principle, and his popularity is undiminished. I have not heard, however, that he has given way to any more whims. PG EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: A man's character often give the lie to his tongue A lie has short legs Appearance of a professional pallbearer Architects should be driven and not followed Consequential or inconsequential irrespective of their size Deal with a fool according to his folly Impervious to hints, and would not take no for an answer Old enough to know better, and too old to be taught That abominable word "like" End of Project Gutenberg's The Celebrity, Complete, by Winston Churchill *** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CELEBRITY, COMPLETE *** ***** This file should be named 5387.txt or 5387.zip ***** This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: http://www.gutenberg.net/5/3/8/5387/ Produced by David Widger Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will be renamed. 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Everhardt."' "Sew me up," said Mr. Cooke; "if that don't beat hell!" CHAPTER XXI In this world of lies the good and the bad are so closely intermingled that frequently one is the means of obtaining the other. Therefore, I wish very freely to express my obligations to the Celebrity for any share he may have had in contributing to the greatest happiness of my life. Marian and I were married the very next month, October, at my client's palatial residence of Mohair. This was at Mr. Cooke's earnest wish: and since Marian was Mrs. Cooke's own niece, and an orphan, there seemed no good reason why my client should not be humored in the matter. As for Marian and me, we did not much care whether we were married at Mohair or the City of Mexico. Mrs. Cooke, I think, had a secret preference for Germantown. Mr. Cooke quite over-reached himself in that wedding. "The knot was tied," as the papers expressed it, "under a huge bell of yellow roses." The paper also named the figure which the flowers and the collation and other things cost Mr. Cooke. A natural reticence forbids me to repeat it. But, lest my client should think that I undervalue his kindness, I will say that we had the grandest wedding ever seen in that part of the world. McCann was there, and Mr. Cooke saw to it that he had a punchbowl all to himself in which to drink our healths: Judge Short was there, still followed by the conjugal eye: and Senator Trevor, who remained over, in a new long black coat to kiss the bride. Mr. Cooke chartered two cars to carry guests from the East, besides those who came as ordinary citizens. Miss Trevor was of the party, and Farrar, of course, was best man. Would that I had the flow of words possessed by the reporter of the Chicago Sunday newspaper! But there is one thing I must mention before Mrs. Crocker and I leave for New York, in a shower of rice, on Mr. Cooke's own private car, and that is my client's gift. In addition to the check he gave Marian, he presented us with a huge, 'repousse' silver urn he had had made to order, and he expressed a desire that the design upon it should remind us of him forever and ever. I think it will. Mercury is duly set forth in a gorgeous equipage, driving four horses around the world at a furious pace; and the artist, by special instructions, had docked their tails. From New York, Mrs. Crocker and I went abroad. And it so chanced, in December, that we were staying a few days at a country-place in Sussex, and the subject of The Sybarites was broached at a dinner-party. The book was then having its sale in England. "Crocker," said our host, "do you happen to have met the author of that book? He's an American." I looked across the table at my wife, and we both laughed. "I happen to know him intimately," I replied. "Do you, now?" said the Englishman; "what a very entertaining chap he is, is he not? I had him down in October, and, by Jove, we were laughing the blessed time. He was telling us how he wrote his novels, and he said, 'pon my soul he did, that he had a secretary or something of that sort to whom he told the plot, and the secretary elaborated, you know, and wrote the draft. And he said, 'pon my honor, that sometimes the clark wrote the plot and all,--the whole blessed thing,--and that he never saw the book except to sign his name to it." "You say he was here in October?" asked Marian, when the laugh had subsided. "I have the date," answered our host, "for he left me an autograph copy of The Sybarites when he went away." And after dinner he showed us the book, with evident pride. Inscribed on the fly-leaf was the name of the author, October 10th. But a glance sufficed to convince both of us that the Celebrity had never written it. "John," said Marian to me, a suspicion of the truth crossing her mind, "John, can it be the bicycle man?" "Yes, it can be," I said; "it is." "Well," said Marian, "he's been doing a little more for our friend than we did." Nor was this the last we heard of that meteoric trip through England, which the alleged author of The Sybarites had indulged in. He did not go up to London; not he. It was given out that he was travelling for his health, that he did not wish to be lionized; and there were friends of the author in the metropolis who had never heard of his secretary, and who were at a loss to understand his conduct. They felt slighted. One of these told me that the Celebrity had been to a Lincolnshire estate where he had created a decided sensation by his riding to hounds, something the Celebrity had never been known to do. And before we crossed the Channel, Marian saw another autograph copy of the famous novel. One day, some months afterwards, we were sitting in our little salon in a Paris hotel when a card was sent up, which Marian took. "John," she cried, "it's the Celebrity." It was the Celebrity, in the flesh, faultlessly groomed and clothed, with frock coat, gloves, and stick. He looked the picture of ruddy, manly health and strength, and we saw at once that he bore no ill-will for the past. He congratulated us warmly, and it was my turn to offer him a cigarette. He was nothing loath to reminisce on the subject of his experiences in the wilds of the northern lakes, or even to laugh over them. He asked affectionately after his friend Cooke. Time had softened his feelings, and we learned that he had another girl, who was in Paris just then, and invited us on the spot to dine with her at "Joseph's." Let me say, in passing, that as usual she did credit to the Celebrity's exceptional taste. "Now," said he, "I have something to tell you two." He asked for another cigarette, and I laid the box beside him. "I suppose you reached Saville all right," I said, anticipating. "Seven at night," said he, "and so hungry that I ate what they call marble cake for supper, and a great many other things out of little side dishes, and nearly died of indigestion afterward. Then I took a train up to the main line. An express came along. 'Why not go West?' I asked myself, and I jumped aboard. It was another whim--you know I am subject to them. When I got to Victoria I wired for money and sailed to Japan; and then I went on to India and through the Suez, taking things easy. I fell in with some people I knew who were going where the spirit moved them, and I went along. "Algiers, for one place, and whom do you think I saw there, in the lobby of a hotel?" "Charles Wrexell Allen," cried Marian and I together. The Celebrity looked surprised. "How did you know?" he demanded. "Go on with your story," said Marian; "what did he do?" "What did he do?" said the Celebrity; "why, the blackguard stepped up and shook me by the hand, and asked after my health, and wanted to know whether I were married yet. He was so beastly familiar that I took out my glass, and I got him into a cafe for fear some one would see me with him. 'My dear fellow,' said he, 'you did me the turn of my life.--How can I ever repay you?' 'Hang your impudence,' said I, but I wanted to hear what he had to say. 'Don't lose your temper, old chap,' he laughed; 'you took a few liberties with my name, and there was no good reason why I shouldn't take some with yours. Was there? When I think of it, the thing was most decidedly convenient; it was the hand of Providence.' 'You took liberties with my name,' I cried. With that he coolly called to the waiter to fill our glasses. 'Now,' said he, 'I've got a story for you. Do you remember the cotillon, or whatever it was, that Cooke gave? Well, that was all in the Chicago papers, and the "Miles Standish" agent there saw it, and he knew pretty well that I wasn't West. So he sent me the papers, just for fun. You may imagine my surprise when I read that I had been leading a dance out at Mohair, or some such barbarous place in the northwest. I looked it up on the map (Asquith, I mean), and then I began to think. I wondered who in the devil it might be who had taken my name and occupation, and all that. You see, I had just relieved the company of a little money, and it hit me like a clap of thunder one day that the idiot was you. But I couldn't be sure. And as long as I had to get out very soon anyway, I concluded to go to Mohair and make certain, and then pile things off on you if you happened to be the man.'" At this point Marian and I were seized with laughter, in which the Celebrity himself joined. Presently he continued: "'So I went,' said Allen. 'I provided myself with two disguises, as a careful man should, but by the time I reached that outlandish hole, Asquith, the little thing I was mixed up in burst prematurely, and the papers were full of it that morning. The whole place was out with sticks, so to speak, hunting for you. They told me the published description hit you to a dot, all except the scar, and they quarrelled about that. I posed as the promoter of resort syndicates, and I hired the Scimitar and sailed over to Bear Island; and I didn't have a bad time that afternoon, only Cooke insisted on making remarks about my whiskers, and I was in mortal fear lest he might accidentally pull one off. He came cursed near it. By the way, he's the very deuce of a man, isn't he? I knew he took me for a detective, so I played the part. And in the night that ass of a state senator nearly gave me pneumonia by getting me out in the air to tell me they had hid you in a cave. So I sat up all night, and followed the relief party in the morning, and you nearly disfigured me for life when you threw that bottle into the woods. Then I went back to camp, and left so fast that I forgot my extra pair of red whiskers. I had two of each disguise, you know, so I didn't miss them. "'I guess,' Mr. Allen went on, gleefully, 'that I got off about as cleanly as any criminal ever did, thanks to you. If we'd fixed the thing up between us it couldn't have been any neater, could it? Because I went straight to Far Harbor and got you into a peck of trouble, right away, and then slipped quietly into Canada, and put on the outfit of a travelling salesman. And right here another bright idea struck me. Why not carry the thing farther? I knew that you had advertised a trip to Europe (why, the Lord only knows), so I went East and sailed for England on the Canadian Line. And let me thank you for a little sport I had in a quiet way as the author of The Sybarites. I think I astonished some of your friends, old boy.'" The Celebrity lighted another cigarette. "So if it hadn't been for me," he said, "the 'Miles Standish Bicycle Company' wouldn't have gone to the wall. Can they sentence me for assisting Allen to get away, Crocker? If they can, I believe I shall stay over here." "I think you are safe," said I. "But didn't Allen tell you any more?" "No. A man he used to know came into the cafe, and Allen got out of the back door. And I never saw him again." "I believe I can tell you a little more," said Marian. ...................... The Celebrity is still writing books of a high moral tone and unapproachable principle, and his popularity is undiminished. I have not heard, however, that he has given way to any more whims. PG EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: A man's character often give the lie to his tongue A lie has short legs Appearance of a professional pallbearer Architects should be driven and not followed Consequential or inconsequential irrespective of their size Deal with a fool according to his folly Impervious to hints, and would not take no for an answer Old enough to know better, and too old to be taught That abominable word "like" End of Project Gutenberg's The Celebrity, Complete, by Winston Churchill *** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CELEBRITY, COMPLETE *** ***** This file should be named 5387.txt or 5387.zip ***** This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: http://www.gutenberg.net/5/3/8/5387/ Produced by David Widger Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will be renamed. 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owed

How many times the word 'owed' appears in the text?

Everhardt."' "Sew me up," said Mr. Cooke; "if that don't beat hell!" CHAPTER XXI In this world of lies the good and the bad are so closely intermingled that frequently one is the means of obtaining the other. Therefore, I wish very freely to express my obligations to the Celebrity for any share he may have had in contributing to the greatest happiness of my life. Marian and I were married the very next month, October, at my client's palatial residence of Mohair. This was at Mr. Cooke's earnest wish: and since Marian was Mrs. Cooke's own niece, and an orphan, there seemed no good reason why my client should not be humored in the matter. As for Marian and me, we did not much care whether we were married at Mohair or the City of Mexico. Mrs. Cooke, I think, had a secret preference for Germantown. Mr. Cooke quite over-reached himself in that wedding. "The knot was tied," as the papers expressed it, "under a huge bell of yellow roses." The paper also named the figure which the flowers and the collation and other things cost Mr. Cooke. A natural reticence forbids me to repeat it. But, lest my client should think that I undervalue his kindness, I will say that we had the grandest wedding ever seen in that part of the world. McCann was there, and Mr. Cooke saw to it that he had a punchbowl all to himself in which to drink our healths: Judge Short was there, still followed by the conjugal eye: and Senator Trevor, who remained over, in a new long black coat to kiss the bride. Mr. Cooke chartered two cars to carry guests from the East, besides those who came as ordinary citizens. Miss Trevor was of the party, and Farrar, of course, was best man. Would that I had the flow of words possessed by the reporter of the Chicago Sunday newspaper! But there is one thing I must mention before Mrs. Crocker and I leave for New York, in a shower of rice, on Mr. Cooke's own private car, and that is my client's gift. In addition to the check he gave Marian, he presented us with a huge, 'repousse' silver urn he had had made to order, and he expressed a desire that the design upon it should remind us of him forever and ever. I think it will. Mercury is duly set forth in a gorgeous equipage, driving four horses around the world at a furious pace; and the artist, by special instructions, had docked their tails. From New York, Mrs. Crocker and I went abroad. And it so chanced, in December, that we were staying a few days at a country-place in Sussex, and the subject of The Sybarites was broached at a dinner-party. The book was then having its sale in England. "Crocker," said our host, "do you happen to have met the author of that book? He's an American." I looked across the table at my wife, and we both laughed. "I happen to know him intimately," I replied. "Do you, now?" said the Englishman; "what a very entertaining chap he is, is he not? I had him down in October, and, by Jove, we were laughing the blessed time. He was telling us how he wrote his novels, and he said, 'pon my soul he did, that he had a secretary or something of that sort to whom he told the plot, and the secretary elaborated, you know, and wrote the draft. And he said, 'pon my honor, that sometimes the clark wrote the plot and all,--the whole blessed thing,--and that he never saw the book except to sign his name to it." "You say he was here in October?" asked Marian, when the laugh had subsided. "I have the date," answered our host, "for he left me an autograph copy of The Sybarites when he went away." And after dinner he showed us the book, with evident pride. Inscribed on the fly-leaf was the name of the author, October 10th. But a glance sufficed to convince both of us that the Celebrity had never written it. "John," said Marian to me, a suspicion of the truth crossing her mind, "John, can it be the bicycle man?" "Yes, it can be," I said; "it is." "Well," said Marian, "he's been doing a little more for our friend than we did." Nor was this the last we heard of that meteoric trip through England, which the alleged author of The Sybarites had indulged in. He did not go up to London; not he. It was given out that he was travelling for his health, that he did not wish to be lionized; and there were friends of the author in the metropolis who had never heard of his secretary, and who were at a loss to understand his conduct. They felt slighted. One of these told me that the Celebrity had been to a Lincolnshire estate where he had created a decided sensation by his riding to hounds, something the Celebrity had never been known to do. And before we crossed the Channel, Marian saw another autograph copy of the famous novel. One day, some months afterwards, we were sitting in our little salon in a Paris hotel when a card was sent up, which Marian took. "John," she cried, "it's the Celebrity." It was the Celebrity, in the flesh, faultlessly groomed and clothed, with frock coat, gloves, and stick. He looked the picture of ruddy, manly health and strength, and we saw at once that he bore no ill-will for the past. He congratulated us warmly, and it was my turn to offer him a cigarette. He was nothing loath to reminisce on the subject of his experiences in the wilds of the northern lakes, or even to laugh over them. He asked affectionately after his friend Cooke. Time had softened his feelings, and we learned that he had another girl, who was in Paris just then, and invited us on the spot to dine with her at "Joseph's." Let me say, in passing, that as usual she did credit to the Celebrity's exceptional taste. "Now," said he, "I have something to tell you two." He asked for another cigarette, and I laid the box beside him. "I suppose you reached Saville all right," I said, anticipating. "Seven at night," said he, "and so hungry that I ate what they call marble cake for supper, and a great many other things out of little side dishes, and nearly died of indigestion afterward. Then I took a train up to the main line. An express came along. 'Why not go West?' I asked myself, and I jumped aboard. It was another whim--you know I am subject to them. When I got to Victoria I wired for money and sailed to Japan; and then I went on to India and through the Suez, taking things easy. I fell in with some people I knew who were going where the spirit moved them, and I went along. "Algiers, for one place, and whom do you think I saw there, in the lobby of a hotel?" "Charles Wrexell Allen," cried Marian and I together. The Celebrity looked surprised. "How did you know?" he demanded. "Go on with your story," said Marian; "what did he do?" "What did he do?" said the Celebrity; "why, the blackguard stepped up and shook me by the hand, and asked after my health, and wanted to know whether I were married yet. He was so beastly familiar that I took out my glass, and I got him into a cafe for fear some one would see me with him. 'My dear fellow,' said he, 'you did me the turn of my life.--How can I ever repay you?' 'Hang your impudence,' said I, but I wanted to hear what he had to say. 'Don't lose your temper, old chap,' he laughed; 'you took a few liberties with my name, and there was no good reason why I shouldn't take some with yours. Was there? When I think of it, the thing was most decidedly convenient; it was the hand of Providence.' 'You took liberties with my name,' I cried. With that he coolly called to the waiter to fill our glasses. 'Now,' said he, 'I've got a story for you. Do you remember the cotillon, or whatever it was, that Cooke gave? Well, that was all in the Chicago papers, and the "Miles Standish" agent there saw it, and he knew pretty well that I wasn't West. So he sent me the papers, just for fun. You may imagine my surprise when I read that I had been leading a dance out at Mohair, or some such barbarous place in the northwest. I looked it up on the map (Asquith, I mean), and then I began to think. I wondered who in the devil it might be who had taken my name and occupation, and all that. You see, I had just relieved the company of a little money, and it hit me like a clap of thunder one day that the idiot was you. But I couldn't be sure. And as long as I had to get out very soon anyway, I concluded to go to Mohair and make certain, and then pile things off on you if you happened to be the man.'" At this point Marian and I were seized with laughter, in which the Celebrity himself joined. Presently he continued: "'So I went,' said Allen. 'I provided myself with two disguises, as a careful man should, but by the time I reached that outlandish hole, Asquith, the little thing I was mixed up in burst prematurely, and the papers were full of it that morning. The whole place was out with sticks, so to speak, hunting for you. They told me the published description hit you to a dot, all except the scar, and they quarrelled about that. I posed as the promoter of resort syndicates, and I hired the Scimitar and sailed over to Bear Island; and I didn't have a bad time that afternoon, only Cooke insisted on making remarks about my whiskers, and I was in mortal fear lest he might accidentally pull one off. He came cursed near it. By the way, he's the very deuce of a man, isn't he? I knew he took me for a detective, so I played the part. And in the night that ass of a state senator nearly gave me pneumonia by getting me out in the air to tell me they had hid you in a cave. So I sat up all night, and followed the relief party in the morning, and you nearly disfigured me for life when you threw that bottle into the woods. Then I went back to camp, and left so fast that I forgot my extra pair of red whiskers. I had two of each disguise, you know, so I didn't miss them. "'I guess,' Mr. Allen went on, gleefully, 'that I got off about as cleanly as any criminal ever did, thanks to you. If we'd fixed the thing up between us it couldn't have been any neater, could it? Because I went straight to Far Harbor and got you into a peck of trouble, right away, and then slipped quietly into Canada, and put on the outfit of a travelling salesman. And right here another bright idea struck me. Why not carry the thing farther? I knew that you had advertised a trip to Europe (why, the Lord only knows), so I went East and sailed for England on the Canadian Line. And let me thank you for a little sport I had in a quiet way as the author of The Sybarites. I think I astonished some of your friends, old boy.'" The Celebrity lighted another cigarette. "So if it hadn't been for me," he said, "the 'Miles Standish Bicycle Company' wouldn't have gone to the wall. Can they sentence me for assisting Allen to get away, Crocker? If they can, I believe I shall stay over here." "I think you are safe," said I. "But didn't Allen tell you any more?" "No. A man he used to know came into the cafe, and Allen got out of the back door. And I never saw him again." "I believe I can tell you a little more," said Marian. ...................... The Celebrity is still writing books of a high moral tone and unapproachable principle, and his popularity is undiminished. I have not heard, however, that he has given way to any more whims. PG EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: A man's character often give the lie to his tongue A lie has short legs Appearance of a professional pallbearer Architects should be driven and not followed Consequential or inconsequential irrespective of their size Deal with a fool according to his folly Impervious to hints, and would not take no for an answer Old enough to know better, and too old to be taught That abominable word "like" End of Project Gutenberg's The Celebrity, Complete, by Winston Churchill *** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CELEBRITY, COMPLETE *** ***** This file should be named 5387.txt or 5387.zip ***** This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: http://www.gutenberg.net/5/3/8/5387/ Produced by David Widger Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will be renamed. 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air

How many times the word 'air' appears in the text?

Everhardt."' "Sew me up," said Mr. Cooke; "if that don't beat hell!" CHAPTER XXI In this world of lies the good and the bad are so closely intermingled that frequently one is the means of obtaining the other. Therefore, I wish very freely to express my obligations to the Celebrity for any share he may have had in contributing to the greatest happiness of my life. Marian and I were married the very next month, October, at my client's palatial residence of Mohair. This was at Mr. Cooke's earnest wish: and since Marian was Mrs. Cooke's own niece, and an orphan, there seemed no good reason why my client should not be humored in the matter. As for Marian and me, we did not much care whether we were married at Mohair or the City of Mexico. Mrs. Cooke, I think, had a secret preference for Germantown. Mr. Cooke quite over-reached himself in that wedding. "The knot was tied," as the papers expressed it, "under a huge bell of yellow roses." The paper also named the figure which the flowers and the collation and other things cost Mr. Cooke. A natural reticence forbids me to repeat it. But, lest my client should think that I undervalue his kindness, I will say that we had the grandest wedding ever seen in that part of the world. McCann was there, and Mr. Cooke saw to it that he had a punchbowl all to himself in which to drink our healths: Judge Short was there, still followed by the conjugal eye: and Senator Trevor, who remained over, in a new long black coat to kiss the bride. Mr. Cooke chartered two cars to carry guests from the East, besides those who came as ordinary citizens. Miss Trevor was of the party, and Farrar, of course, was best man. Would that I had the flow of words possessed by the reporter of the Chicago Sunday newspaper! But there is one thing I must mention before Mrs. Crocker and I leave for New York, in a shower of rice, on Mr. Cooke's own private car, and that is my client's gift. In addition to the check he gave Marian, he presented us with a huge, 'repousse' silver urn he had had made to order, and he expressed a desire that the design upon it should remind us of him forever and ever. I think it will. Mercury is duly set forth in a gorgeous equipage, driving four horses around the world at a furious pace; and the artist, by special instructions, had docked their tails. From New York, Mrs. Crocker and I went abroad. And it so chanced, in December, that we were staying a few days at a country-place in Sussex, and the subject of The Sybarites was broached at a dinner-party. The book was then having its sale in England. "Crocker," said our host, "do you happen to have met the author of that book? He's an American." I looked across the table at my wife, and we both laughed. "I happen to know him intimately," I replied. "Do you, now?" said the Englishman; "what a very entertaining chap he is, is he not? I had him down in October, and, by Jove, we were laughing the blessed time. He was telling us how he wrote his novels, and he said, 'pon my soul he did, that he had a secretary or something of that sort to whom he told the plot, and the secretary elaborated, you know, and wrote the draft. And he said, 'pon my honor, that sometimes the clark wrote the plot and all,--the whole blessed thing,--and that he never saw the book except to sign his name to it." "You say he was here in October?" asked Marian, when the laugh had subsided. "I have the date," answered our host, "for he left me an autograph copy of The Sybarites when he went away." And after dinner he showed us the book, with evident pride. Inscribed on the fly-leaf was the name of the author, October 10th. But a glance sufficed to convince both of us that the Celebrity had never written it. "John," said Marian to me, a suspicion of the truth crossing her mind, "John, can it be the bicycle man?" "Yes, it can be," I said; "it is." "Well," said Marian, "he's been doing a little more for our friend than we did." Nor was this the last we heard of that meteoric trip through England, which the alleged author of The Sybarites had indulged in. He did not go up to London; not he. It was given out that he was travelling for his health, that he did not wish to be lionized; and there were friends of the author in the metropolis who had never heard of his secretary, and who were at a loss to understand his conduct. They felt slighted. One of these told me that the Celebrity had been to a Lincolnshire estate where he had created a decided sensation by his riding to hounds, something the Celebrity had never been known to do. And before we crossed the Channel, Marian saw another autograph copy of the famous novel. One day, some months afterwards, we were sitting in our little salon in a Paris hotel when a card was sent up, which Marian took. "John," she cried, "it's the Celebrity." It was the Celebrity, in the flesh, faultlessly groomed and clothed, with frock coat, gloves, and stick. He looked the picture of ruddy, manly health and strength, and we saw at once that he bore no ill-will for the past. He congratulated us warmly, and it was my turn to offer him a cigarette. He was nothing loath to reminisce on the subject of his experiences in the wilds of the northern lakes, or even to laugh over them. He asked affectionately after his friend Cooke. Time had softened his feelings, and we learned that he had another girl, who was in Paris just then, and invited us on the spot to dine with her at "Joseph's." Let me say, in passing, that as usual she did credit to the Celebrity's exceptional taste. "Now," said he, "I have something to tell you two." He asked for another cigarette, and I laid the box beside him. "I suppose you reached Saville all right," I said, anticipating. "Seven at night," said he, "and so hungry that I ate what they call marble cake for supper, and a great many other things out of little side dishes, and nearly died of indigestion afterward. Then I took a train up to the main line. An express came along. 'Why not go West?' I asked myself, and I jumped aboard. It was another whim--you know I am subject to them. When I got to Victoria I wired for money and sailed to Japan; and then I went on to India and through the Suez, taking things easy. I fell in with some people I knew who were going where the spirit moved them, and I went along. "Algiers, for one place, and whom do you think I saw there, in the lobby of a hotel?" "Charles Wrexell Allen," cried Marian and I together. The Celebrity looked surprised. "How did you know?" he demanded. "Go on with your story," said Marian; "what did he do?" "What did he do?" said the Celebrity; "why, the blackguard stepped up and shook me by the hand, and asked after my health, and wanted to know whether I were married yet. He was so beastly familiar that I took out my glass, and I got him into a cafe for fear some one would see me with him. 'My dear fellow,' said he, 'you did me the turn of my life.--How can I ever repay you?' 'Hang your impudence,' said I, but I wanted to hear what he had to say. 'Don't lose your temper, old chap,' he laughed; 'you took a few liberties with my name, and there was no good reason why I shouldn't take some with yours. Was there? When I think of it, the thing was most decidedly convenient; it was the hand of Providence.' 'You took liberties with my name,' I cried. With that he coolly called to the waiter to fill our glasses. 'Now,' said he, 'I've got a story for you. Do you remember the cotillon, or whatever it was, that Cooke gave? Well, that was all in the Chicago papers, and the "Miles Standish" agent there saw it, and he knew pretty well that I wasn't West. So he sent me the papers, just for fun. You may imagine my surprise when I read that I had been leading a dance out at Mohair, or some such barbarous place in the northwest. I looked it up on the map (Asquith, I mean), and then I began to think. I wondered who in the devil it might be who had taken my name and occupation, and all that. You see, I had just relieved the company of a little money, and it hit me like a clap of thunder one day that the idiot was you. But I couldn't be sure. And as long as I had to get out very soon anyway, I concluded to go to Mohair and make certain, and then pile things off on you if you happened to be the man.'" At this point Marian and I were seized with laughter, in which the Celebrity himself joined. Presently he continued: "'So I went,' said Allen. 'I provided myself with two disguises, as a careful man should, but by the time I reached that outlandish hole, Asquith, the little thing I was mixed up in burst prematurely, and the papers were full of it that morning. The whole place was out with sticks, so to speak, hunting for you. They told me the published description hit you to a dot, all except the scar, and they quarrelled about that. I posed as the promoter of resort syndicates, and I hired the Scimitar and sailed over to Bear Island; and I didn't have a bad time that afternoon, only Cooke insisted on making remarks about my whiskers, and I was in mortal fear lest he might accidentally pull one off. He came cursed near it. By the way, he's the very deuce of a man, isn't he? I knew he took me for a detective, so I played the part. And in the night that ass of a state senator nearly gave me pneumonia by getting me out in the air to tell me they had hid you in a cave. So I sat up all night, and followed the relief party in the morning, and you nearly disfigured me for life when you threw that bottle into the woods. Then I went back to camp, and left so fast that I forgot my extra pair of red whiskers. I had two of each disguise, you know, so I didn't miss them. "'I guess,' Mr. Allen went on, gleefully, 'that I got off about as cleanly as any criminal ever did, thanks to you. If we'd fixed the thing up between us it couldn't have been any neater, could it? Because I went straight to Far Harbor and got you into a peck of trouble, right away, and then slipped quietly into Canada, and put on the outfit of a travelling salesman. And right here another bright idea struck me. Why not carry the thing farther? I knew that you had advertised a trip to Europe (why, the Lord only knows), so I went East and sailed for England on the Canadian Line. And let me thank you for a little sport I had in a quiet way as the author of The Sybarites. I think I astonished some of your friends, old boy.'" The Celebrity lighted another cigarette. "So if it hadn't been for me," he said, "the 'Miles Standish Bicycle Company' wouldn't have gone to the wall. Can they sentence me for assisting Allen to get away, Crocker? If they can, I believe I shall stay over here." "I think you are safe," said I. "But didn't Allen tell you any more?" "No. A man he used to know came into the cafe, and Allen got out of the back door. And I never saw him again." "I believe I can tell you a little more," said Marian. ...................... The Celebrity is still writing books of a high moral tone and unapproachable principle, and his popularity is undiminished. I have not heard, however, that he has given way to any more whims. PG EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: A man's character often give the lie to his tongue A lie has short legs Appearance of a professional pallbearer Architects should be driven and not followed Consequential or inconsequential irrespective of their size Deal with a fool according to his folly Impervious to hints, and would not take no for an answer Old enough to know better, and too old to be taught That abominable word "like" End of Project Gutenberg's The Celebrity, Complete, by Winston Churchill *** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CELEBRITY, COMPLETE *** ***** This file should be named 5387.txt or 5387.zip ***** This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: http://www.gutenberg.net/5/3/8/5387/ Produced by David Widger Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will be renamed. Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. 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royalty

How many times the word 'royalty' appears in the text?

Everhardt."' "Sew me up," said Mr. Cooke; "if that don't beat hell!" CHAPTER XXI In this world of lies the good and the bad are so closely intermingled that frequently one is the means of obtaining the other. Therefore, I wish very freely to express my obligations to the Celebrity for any share he may have had in contributing to the greatest happiness of my life. Marian and I were married the very next month, October, at my client's palatial residence of Mohair. This was at Mr. Cooke's earnest wish: and since Marian was Mrs. Cooke's own niece, and an orphan, there seemed no good reason why my client should not be humored in the matter. As for Marian and me, we did not much care whether we were married at Mohair or the City of Mexico. Mrs. Cooke, I think, had a secret preference for Germantown. Mr. Cooke quite over-reached himself in that wedding. "The knot was tied," as the papers expressed it, "under a huge bell of yellow roses." The paper also named the figure which the flowers and the collation and other things cost Mr. Cooke. A natural reticence forbids me to repeat it. But, lest my client should think that I undervalue his kindness, I will say that we had the grandest wedding ever seen in that part of the world. McCann was there, and Mr. Cooke saw to it that he had a punchbowl all to himself in which to drink our healths: Judge Short was there, still followed by the conjugal eye: and Senator Trevor, who remained over, in a new long black coat to kiss the bride. Mr. Cooke chartered two cars to carry guests from the East, besides those who came as ordinary citizens. Miss Trevor was of the party, and Farrar, of course, was best man. Would that I had the flow of words possessed by the reporter of the Chicago Sunday newspaper! But there is one thing I must mention before Mrs. Crocker and I leave for New York, in a shower of rice, on Mr. Cooke's own private car, and that is my client's gift. In addition to the check he gave Marian, he presented us with a huge, 'repousse' silver urn he had had made to order, and he expressed a desire that the design upon it should remind us of him forever and ever. I think it will. Mercury is duly set forth in a gorgeous equipage, driving four horses around the world at a furious pace; and the artist, by special instructions, had docked their tails. From New York, Mrs. Crocker and I went abroad. And it so chanced, in December, that we were staying a few days at a country-place in Sussex, and the subject of The Sybarites was broached at a dinner-party. The book was then having its sale in England. "Crocker," said our host, "do you happen to have met the author of that book? He's an American." I looked across the table at my wife, and we both laughed. "I happen to know him intimately," I replied. "Do you, now?" said the Englishman; "what a very entertaining chap he is, is he not? I had him down in October, and, by Jove, we were laughing the blessed time. He was telling us how he wrote his novels, and he said, 'pon my soul he did, that he had a secretary or something of that sort to whom he told the plot, and the secretary elaborated, you know, and wrote the draft. And he said, 'pon my honor, that sometimes the clark wrote the plot and all,--the whole blessed thing,--and that he never saw the book except to sign his name to it." "You say he was here in October?" asked Marian, when the laugh had subsided. "I have the date," answered our host, "for he left me an autograph copy of The Sybarites when he went away." And after dinner he showed us the book, with evident pride. Inscribed on the fly-leaf was the name of the author, October 10th. But a glance sufficed to convince both of us that the Celebrity had never written it. "John," said Marian to me, a suspicion of the truth crossing her mind, "John, can it be the bicycle man?" "Yes, it can be," I said; "it is." "Well," said Marian, "he's been doing a little more for our friend than we did." Nor was this the last we heard of that meteoric trip through England, which the alleged author of The Sybarites had indulged in. He did not go up to London; not he. It was given out that he was travelling for his health, that he did not wish to be lionized; and there were friends of the author in the metropolis who had never heard of his secretary, and who were at a loss to understand his conduct. They felt slighted. One of these told me that the Celebrity had been to a Lincolnshire estate where he had created a decided sensation by his riding to hounds, something the Celebrity had never been known to do. And before we crossed the Channel, Marian saw another autograph copy of the famous novel. One day, some months afterwards, we were sitting in our little salon in a Paris hotel when a card was sent up, which Marian took. "John," she cried, "it's the Celebrity." It was the Celebrity, in the flesh, faultlessly groomed and clothed, with frock coat, gloves, and stick. He looked the picture of ruddy, manly health and strength, and we saw at once that he bore no ill-will for the past. He congratulated us warmly, and it was my turn to offer him a cigarette. He was nothing loath to reminisce on the subject of his experiences in the wilds of the northern lakes, or even to laugh over them. He asked affectionately after his friend Cooke. Time had softened his feelings, and we learned that he had another girl, who was in Paris just then, and invited us on the spot to dine with her at "Joseph's." Let me say, in passing, that as usual she did credit to the Celebrity's exceptional taste. "Now," said he, "I have something to tell you two." He asked for another cigarette, and I laid the box beside him. "I suppose you reached Saville all right," I said, anticipating. "Seven at night," said he, "and so hungry that I ate what they call marble cake for supper, and a great many other things out of little side dishes, and nearly died of indigestion afterward. Then I took a train up to the main line. An express came along. 'Why not go West?' I asked myself, and I jumped aboard. It was another whim--you know I am subject to them. When I got to Victoria I wired for money and sailed to Japan; and then I went on to India and through the Suez, taking things easy. I fell in with some people I knew who were going where the spirit moved them, and I went along. "Algiers, for one place, and whom do you think I saw there, in the lobby of a hotel?" "Charles Wrexell Allen," cried Marian and I together. The Celebrity looked surprised. "How did you know?" he demanded. "Go on with your story," said Marian; "what did he do?" "What did he do?" said the Celebrity; "why, the blackguard stepped up and shook me by the hand, and asked after my health, and wanted to know whether I were married yet. He was so beastly familiar that I took out my glass, and I got him into a cafe for fear some one would see me with him. 'My dear fellow,' said he, 'you did me the turn of my life.--How can I ever repay you?' 'Hang your impudence,' said I, but I wanted to hear what he had to say. 'Don't lose your temper, old chap,' he laughed; 'you took a few liberties with my name, and there was no good reason why I shouldn't take some with yours. Was there? When I think of it, the thing was most decidedly convenient; it was the hand of Providence.' 'You took liberties with my name,' I cried. With that he coolly called to the waiter to fill our glasses. 'Now,' said he, 'I've got a story for you. Do you remember the cotillon, or whatever it was, that Cooke gave? Well, that was all in the Chicago papers, and the "Miles Standish" agent there saw it, and he knew pretty well that I wasn't West. So he sent me the papers, just for fun. You may imagine my surprise when I read that I had been leading a dance out at Mohair, or some such barbarous place in the northwest. I looked it up on the map (Asquith, I mean), and then I began to think. I wondered who in the devil it might be who had taken my name and occupation, and all that. You see, I had just relieved the company of a little money, and it hit me like a clap of thunder one day that the idiot was you. But I couldn't be sure. And as long as I had to get out very soon anyway, I concluded to go to Mohair and make certain, and then pile things off on you if you happened to be the man.'" At this point Marian and I were seized with laughter, in which the Celebrity himself joined. Presently he continued: "'So I went,' said Allen. 'I provided myself with two disguises, as a careful man should, but by the time I reached that outlandish hole, Asquith, the little thing I was mixed up in burst prematurely, and the papers were full of it that morning. The whole place was out with sticks, so to speak, hunting for you. They told me the published description hit you to a dot, all except the scar, and they quarrelled about that. I posed as the promoter of resort syndicates, and I hired the Scimitar and sailed over to Bear Island; and I didn't have a bad time that afternoon, only Cooke insisted on making remarks about my whiskers, and I was in mortal fear lest he might accidentally pull one off. He came cursed near it. By the way, he's the very deuce of a man, isn't he? I knew he took me for a detective, so I played the part. And in the night that ass of a state senator nearly gave me pneumonia by getting me out in the air to tell me they had hid you in a cave. So I sat up all night, and followed the relief party in the morning, and you nearly disfigured me for life when you threw that bottle into the woods. Then I went back to camp, and left so fast that I forgot my extra pair of red whiskers. I had two of each disguise, you know, so I didn't miss them. "'I guess,' Mr. Allen went on, gleefully, 'that I got off about as cleanly as any criminal ever did, thanks to you. If we'd fixed the thing up between us it couldn't have been any neater, could it? Because I went straight to Far Harbor and got you into a peck of trouble, right away, and then slipped quietly into Canada, and put on the outfit of a travelling salesman. And right here another bright idea struck me. Why not carry the thing farther? I knew that you had advertised a trip to Europe (why, the Lord only knows), so I went East and sailed for England on the Canadian Line. And let me thank you for a little sport I had in a quiet way as the author of The Sybarites. I think I astonished some of your friends, old boy.'" The Celebrity lighted another cigarette. "So if it hadn't been for me," he said, "the 'Miles Standish Bicycle Company' wouldn't have gone to the wall. Can they sentence me for assisting Allen to get away, Crocker? If they can, I believe I shall stay over here." "I think you are safe," said I. "But didn't Allen tell you any more?" "No. A man he used to know came into the cafe, and Allen got out of the back door. And I never saw him again." "I believe I can tell you a little more," said Marian. ...................... The Celebrity is still writing books of a high moral tone and unapproachable principle, and his popularity is undiminished. I have not heard, however, that he has given way to any more whims. PG EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: A man's character often give the lie to his tongue A lie has short legs Appearance of a professional pallbearer Architects should be driven and not followed Consequential or inconsequential irrespective of their size Deal with a fool according to his folly Impervious to hints, and would not take no for an answer Old enough to know better, and too old to be taught That abominable word "like" End of Project Gutenberg's The Celebrity, Complete, by Winston Churchill *** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CELEBRITY, COMPLETE *** ***** This file should be named 5387.txt or 5387.zip ***** This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: http://www.gutenberg.net/5/3/8/5387/ Produced by David Widger Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will be renamed. 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How many times the word 'roars' appears in the text?

Everhardt."' "Sew me up," said Mr. Cooke; "if that don't beat hell!" CHAPTER XXI In this world of lies the good and the bad are so closely intermingled that frequently one is the means of obtaining the other. Therefore, I wish very freely to express my obligations to the Celebrity for any share he may have had in contributing to the greatest happiness of my life. Marian and I were married the very next month, October, at my client's palatial residence of Mohair. This was at Mr. Cooke's earnest wish: and since Marian was Mrs. Cooke's own niece, and an orphan, there seemed no good reason why my client should not be humored in the matter. As for Marian and me, we did not much care whether we were married at Mohair or the City of Mexico. Mrs. Cooke, I think, had a secret preference for Germantown. Mr. Cooke quite over-reached himself in that wedding. "The knot was tied," as the papers expressed it, "under a huge bell of yellow roses." The paper also named the figure which the flowers and the collation and other things cost Mr. Cooke. A natural reticence forbids me to repeat it. But, lest my client should think that I undervalue his kindness, I will say that we had the grandest wedding ever seen in that part of the world. McCann was there, and Mr. Cooke saw to it that he had a punchbowl all to himself in which to drink our healths: Judge Short was there, still followed by the conjugal eye: and Senator Trevor, who remained over, in a new long black coat to kiss the bride. Mr. Cooke chartered two cars to carry guests from the East, besides those who came as ordinary citizens. Miss Trevor was of the party, and Farrar, of course, was best man. Would that I had the flow of words possessed by the reporter of the Chicago Sunday newspaper! But there is one thing I must mention before Mrs. Crocker and I leave for New York, in a shower of rice, on Mr. Cooke's own private car, and that is my client's gift. In addition to the check he gave Marian, he presented us with a huge, 'repousse' silver urn he had had made to order, and he expressed a desire that the design upon it should remind us of him forever and ever. I think it will. Mercury is duly set forth in a gorgeous equipage, driving four horses around the world at a furious pace; and the artist, by special instructions, had docked their tails. From New York, Mrs. Crocker and I went abroad. And it so chanced, in December, that we were staying a few days at a country-place in Sussex, and the subject of The Sybarites was broached at a dinner-party. The book was then having its sale in England. "Crocker," said our host, "do you happen to have met the author of that book? He's an American." I looked across the table at my wife, and we both laughed. "I happen to know him intimately," I replied. "Do you, now?" said the Englishman; "what a very entertaining chap he is, is he not? I had him down in October, and, by Jove, we were laughing the blessed time. He was telling us how he wrote his novels, and he said, 'pon my soul he did, that he had a secretary or something of that sort to whom he told the plot, and the secretary elaborated, you know, and wrote the draft. And he said, 'pon my honor, that sometimes the clark wrote the plot and all,--the whole blessed thing,--and that he never saw the book except to sign his name to it." "You say he was here in October?" asked Marian, when the laugh had subsided. "I have the date," answered our host, "for he left me an autograph copy of The Sybarites when he went away." And after dinner he showed us the book, with evident pride. Inscribed on the fly-leaf was the name of the author, October 10th. But a glance sufficed to convince both of us that the Celebrity had never written it. "John," said Marian to me, a suspicion of the truth crossing her mind, "John, can it be the bicycle man?" "Yes, it can be," I said; "it is." "Well," said Marian, "he's been doing a little more for our friend than we did." Nor was this the last we heard of that meteoric trip through England, which the alleged author of The Sybarites had indulged in. He did not go up to London; not he. It was given out that he was travelling for his health, that he did not wish to be lionized; and there were friends of the author in the metropolis who had never heard of his secretary, and who were at a loss to understand his conduct. They felt slighted. One of these told me that the Celebrity had been to a Lincolnshire estate where he had created a decided sensation by his riding to hounds, something the Celebrity had never been known to do. And before we crossed the Channel, Marian saw another autograph copy of the famous novel. One day, some months afterwards, we were sitting in our little salon in a Paris hotel when a card was sent up, which Marian took. "John," she cried, "it's the Celebrity." It was the Celebrity, in the flesh, faultlessly groomed and clothed, with frock coat, gloves, and stick. He looked the picture of ruddy, manly health and strength, and we saw at once that he bore no ill-will for the past. He congratulated us warmly, and it was my turn to offer him a cigarette. He was nothing loath to reminisce on the subject of his experiences in the wilds of the northern lakes, or even to laugh over them. He asked affectionately after his friend Cooke. Time had softened his feelings, and we learned that he had another girl, who was in Paris just then, and invited us on the spot to dine with her at "Joseph's." Let me say, in passing, that as usual she did credit to the Celebrity's exceptional taste. "Now," said he, "I have something to tell you two." He asked for another cigarette, and I laid the box beside him. "I suppose you reached Saville all right," I said, anticipating. "Seven at night," said he, "and so hungry that I ate what they call marble cake for supper, and a great many other things out of little side dishes, and nearly died of indigestion afterward. Then I took a train up to the main line. An express came along. 'Why not go West?' I asked myself, and I jumped aboard. It was another whim--you know I am subject to them. When I got to Victoria I wired for money and sailed to Japan; and then I went on to India and through the Suez, taking things easy. I fell in with some people I knew who were going where the spirit moved them, and I went along. "Algiers, for one place, and whom do you think I saw there, in the lobby of a hotel?" "Charles Wrexell Allen," cried Marian and I together. The Celebrity looked surprised. "How did you know?" he demanded. "Go on with your story," said Marian; "what did he do?" "What did he do?" said the Celebrity; "why, the blackguard stepped up and shook me by the hand, and asked after my health, and wanted to know whether I were married yet. He was so beastly familiar that I took out my glass, and I got him into a cafe for fear some one would see me with him. 'My dear fellow,' said he, 'you did me the turn of my life.--How can I ever repay you?' 'Hang your impudence,' said I, but I wanted to hear what he had to say. 'Don't lose your temper, old chap,' he laughed; 'you took a few liberties with my name, and there was no good reason why I shouldn't take some with yours. Was there? When I think of it, the thing was most decidedly convenient; it was the hand of Providence.' 'You took liberties with my name,' I cried. With that he coolly called to the waiter to fill our glasses. 'Now,' said he, 'I've got a story for you. Do you remember the cotillon, or whatever it was, that Cooke gave? Well, that was all in the Chicago papers, and the "Miles Standish" agent there saw it, and he knew pretty well that I wasn't West. So he sent me the papers, just for fun. You may imagine my surprise when I read that I had been leading a dance out at Mohair, or some such barbarous place in the northwest. I looked it up on the map (Asquith, I mean), and then I began to think. I wondered who in the devil it might be who had taken my name and occupation, and all that. You see, I had just relieved the company of a little money, and it hit me like a clap of thunder one day that the idiot was you. But I couldn't be sure. And as long as I had to get out very soon anyway, I concluded to go to Mohair and make certain, and then pile things off on you if you happened to be the man.'" At this point Marian and I were seized with laughter, in which the Celebrity himself joined. Presently he continued: "'So I went,' said Allen. 'I provided myself with two disguises, as a careful man should, but by the time I reached that outlandish hole, Asquith, the little thing I was mixed up in burst prematurely, and the papers were full of it that morning. The whole place was out with sticks, so to speak, hunting for you. They told me the published description hit you to a dot, all except the scar, and they quarrelled about that. I posed as the promoter of resort syndicates, and I hired the Scimitar and sailed over to Bear Island; and I didn't have a bad time that afternoon, only Cooke insisted on making remarks about my whiskers, and I was in mortal fear lest he might accidentally pull one off. He came cursed near it. By the way, he's the very deuce of a man, isn't he? I knew he took me for a detective, so I played the part. And in the night that ass of a state senator nearly gave me pneumonia by getting me out in the air to tell me they had hid you in a cave. So I sat up all night, and followed the relief party in the morning, and you nearly disfigured me for life when you threw that bottle into the woods. Then I went back to camp, and left so fast that I forgot my extra pair of red whiskers. I had two of each disguise, you know, so I didn't miss them. "'I guess,' Mr. Allen went on, gleefully, 'that I got off about as cleanly as any criminal ever did, thanks to you. If we'd fixed the thing up between us it couldn't have been any neater, could it? Because I went straight to Far Harbor and got you into a peck of trouble, right away, and then slipped quietly into Canada, and put on the outfit of a travelling salesman. And right here another bright idea struck me. Why not carry the thing farther? I knew that you had advertised a trip to Europe (why, the Lord only knows), so I went East and sailed for England on the Canadian Line. And let me thank you for a little sport I had in a quiet way as the author of The Sybarites. I think I astonished some of your friends, old boy.'" The Celebrity lighted another cigarette. "So if it hadn't been for me," he said, "the 'Miles Standish Bicycle Company' wouldn't have gone to the wall. Can they sentence me for assisting Allen to get away, Crocker? If they can, I believe I shall stay over here." "I think you are safe," said I. "But didn't Allen tell you any more?" "No. A man he used to know came into the cafe, and Allen got out of the back door. And I never saw him again." "I believe I can tell you a little more," said Marian. ...................... The Celebrity is still writing books of a high moral tone and unapproachable principle, and his popularity is undiminished. I have not heard, however, that he has given way to any more whims. PG EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: A man's character often give the lie to his tongue A lie has short legs Appearance of a professional pallbearer Architects should be driven and not followed Consequential or inconsequential irrespective of their size Deal with a fool according to his folly Impervious to hints, and would not take no for an answer Old enough to know better, and too old to be taught That abominable word "like" End of Project Gutenberg's The Celebrity, Complete, by Winston Churchill *** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CELEBRITY, COMPLETE *** ***** This file should be named 5387.txt or 5387.zip ***** This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: http://www.gutenberg.net/5/3/8/5387/ Produced by David Widger Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will be renamed. 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How many times the word 'legs' appears in the text?

Everhardt."' "Sew me up," said Mr. Cooke; "if that don't beat hell!" CHAPTER XXI In this world of lies the good and the bad are so closely intermingled that frequently one is the means of obtaining the other. Therefore, I wish very freely to express my obligations to the Celebrity for any share he may have had in contributing to the greatest happiness of my life. Marian and I were married the very next month, October, at my client's palatial residence of Mohair. This was at Mr. Cooke's earnest wish: and since Marian was Mrs. Cooke's own niece, and an orphan, there seemed no good reason why my client should not be humored in the matter. As for Marian and me, we did not much care whether we were married at Mohair or the City of Mexico. Mrs. Cooke, I think, had a secret preference for Germantown. Mr. Cooke quite over-reached himself in that wedding. "The knot was tied," as the papers expressed it, "under a huge bell of yellow roses." The paper also named the figure which the flowers and the collation and other things cost Mr. Cooke. A natural reticence forbids me to repeat it. But, lest my client should think that I undervalue his kindness, I will say that we had the grandest wedding ever seen in that part of the world. McCann was there, and Mr. Cooke saw to it that he had a punchbowl all to himself in which to drink our healths: Judge Short was there, still followed by the conjugal eye: and Senator Trevor, who remained over, in a new long black coat to kiss the bride. Mr. Cooke chartered two cars to carry guests from the East, besides those who came as ordinary citizens. Miss Trevor was of the party, and Farrar, of course, was best man. Would that I had the flow of words possessed by the reporter of the Chicago Sunday newspaper! But there is one thing I must mention before Mrs. Crocker and I leave for New York, in a shower of rice, on Mr. Cooke's own private car, and that is my client's gift. In addition to the check he gave Marian, he presented us with a huge, 'repousse' silver urn he had had made to order, and he expressed a desire that the design upon it should remind us of him forever and ever. I think it will. Mercury is duly set forth in a gorgeous equipage, driving four horses around the world at a furious pace; and the artist, by special instructions, had docked their tails. From New York, Mrs. Crocker and I went abroad. And it so chanced, in December, that we were staying a few days at a country-place in Sussex, and the subject of The Sybarites was broached at a dinner-party. The book was then having its sale in England. "Crocker," said our host, "do you happen to have met the author of that book? He's an American." I looked across the table at my wife, and we both laughed. "I happen to know him intimately," I replied. "Do you, now?" said the Englishman; "what a very entertaining chap he is, is he not? I had him down in October, and, by Jove, we were laughing the blessed time. He was telling us how he wrote his novels, and he said, 'pon my soul he did, that he had a secretary or something of that sort to whom he told the plot, and the secretary elaborated, you know, and wrote the draft. And he said, 'pon my honor, that sometimes the clark wrote the plot and all,--the whole blessed thing,--and that he never saw the book except to sign his name to it." "You say he was here in October?" asked Marian, when the laugh had subsided. "I have the date," answered our host, "for he left me an autograph copy of The Sybarites when he went away." And after dinner he showed us the book, with evident pride. Inscribed on the fly-leaf was the name of the author, October 10th. But a glance sufficed to convince both of us that the Celebrity had never written it. "John," said Marian to me, a suspicion of the truth crossing her mind, "John, can it be the bicycle man?" "Yes, it can be," I said; "it is." "Well," said Marian, "he's been doing a little more for our friend than we did." Nor was this the last we heard of that meteoric trip through England, which the alleged author of The Sybarites had indulged in. He did not go up to London; not he. It was given out that he was travelling for his health, that he did not wish to be lionized; and there were friends of the author in the metropolis who had never heard of his secretary, and who were at a loss to understand his conduct. They felt slighted. One of these told me that the Celebrity had been to a Lincolnshire estate where he had created a decided sensation by his riding to hounds, something the Celebrity had never been known to do. And before we crossed the Channel, Marian saw another autograph copy of the famous novel. One day, some months afterwards, we were sitting in our little salon in a Paris hotel when a card was sent up, which Marian took. "John," she cried, "it's the Celebrity." It was the Celebrity, in the flesh, faultlessly groomed and clothed, with frock coat, gloves, and stick. He looked the picture of ruddy, manly health and strength, and we saw at once that he bore no ill-will for the past. He congratulated us warmly, and it was my turn to offer him a cigarette. He was nothing loath to reminisce on the subject of his experiences in the wilds of the northern lakes, or even to laugh over them. He asked affectionately after his friend Cooke. Time had softened his feelings, and we learned that he had another girl, who was in Paris just then, and invited us on the spot to dine with her at "Joseph's." Let me say, in passing, that as usual she did credit to the Celebrity's exceptional taste. "Now," said he, "I have something to tell you two." He asked for another cigarette, and I laid the box beside him. "I suppose you reached Saville all right," I said, anticipating. "Seven at night," said he, "and so hungry that I ate what they call marble cake for supper, and a great many other things out of little side dishes, and nearly died of indigestion afterward. Then I took a train up to the main line. An express came along. 'Why not go West?' I asked myself, and I jumped aboard. It was another whim--you know I am subject to them. When I got to Victoria I wired for money and sailed to Japan; and then I went on to India and through the Suez, taking things easy. I fell in with some people I knew who were going where the spirit moved them, and I went along. "Algiers, for one place, and whom do you think I saw there, in the lobby of a hotel?" "Charles Wrexell Allen," cried Marian and I together. The Celebrity looked surprised. "How did you know?" he demanded. "Go on with your story," said Marian; "what did he do?" "What did he do?" said the Celebrity; "why, the blackguard stepped up and shook me by the hand, and asked after my health, and wanted to know whether I were married yet. He was so beastly familiar that I took out my glass, and I got him into a cafe for fear some one would see me with him. 'My dear fellow,' said he, 'you did me the turn of my life.--How can I ever repay you?' 'Hang your impudence,' said I, but I wanted to hear what he had to say. 'Don't lose your temper, old chap,' he laughed; 'you took a few liberties with my name, and there was no good reason why I shouldn't take some with yours. Was there? When I think of it, the thing was most decidedly convenient; it was the hand of Providence.' 'You took liberties with my name,' I cried. With that he coolly called to the waiter to fill our glasses. 'Now,' said he, 'I've got a story for you. Do you remember the cotillon, or whatever it was, that Cooke gave? Well, that was all in the Chicago papers, and the "Miles Standish" agent there saw it, and he knew pretty well that I wasn't West. So he sent me the papers, just for fun. You may imagine my surprise when I read that I had been leading a dance out at Mohair, or some such barbarous place in the northwest. I looked it up on the map (Asquith, I mean), and then I began to think. I wondered who in the devil it might be who had taken my name and occupation, and all that. You see, I had just relieved the company of a little money, and it hit me like a clap of thunder one day that the idiot was you. But I couldn't be sure. And as long as I had to get out very soon anyway, I concluded to go to Mohair and make certain, and then pile things off on you if you happened to be the man.'" At this point Marian and I were seized with laughter, in which the Celebrity himself joined. Presently he continued: "'So I went,' said Allen. 'I provided myself with two disguises, as a careful man should, but by the time I reached that outlandish hole, Asquith, the little thing I was mixed up in burst prematurely, and the papers were full of it that morning. The whole place was out with sticks, so to speak, hunting for you. They told me the published description hit you to a dot, all except the scar, and they quarrelled about that. I posed as the promoter of resort syndicates, and I hired the Scimitar and sailed over to Bear Island; and I didn't have a bad time that afternoon, only Cooke insisted on making remarks about my whiskers, and I was in mortal fear lest he might accidentally pull one off. He came cursed near it. By the way, he's the very deuce of a man, isn't he? I knew he took me for a detective, so I played the part. And in the night that ass of a state senator nearly gave me pneumonia by getting me out in the air to tell me they had hid you in a cave. So I sat up all night, and followed the relief party in the morning, and you nearly disfigured me for life when you threw that bottle into the woods. Then I went back to camp, and left so fast that I forgot my extra pair of red whiskers. I had two of each disguise, you know, so I didn't miss them. "'I guess,' Mr. Allen went on, gleefully, 'that I got off about as cleanly as any criminal ever did, thanks to you. If we'd fixed the thing up between us it couldn't have been any neater, could it? Because I went straight to Far Harbor and got you into a peck of trouble, right away, and then slipped quietly into Canada, and put on the outfit of a travelling salesman. And right here another bright idea struck me. Why not carry the thing farther? I knew that you had advertised a trip to Europe (why, the Lord only knows), so I went East and sailed for England on the Canadian Line. And let me thank you for a little sport I had in a quiet way as the author of The Sybarites. I think I astonished some of your friends, old boy.'" The Celebrity lighted another cigarette. "So if it hadn't been for me," he said, "the 'Miles Standish Bicycle Company' wouldn't have gone to the wall. Can they sentence me for assisting Allen to get away, Crocker? If they can, I believe I shall stay over here." "I think you are safe," said I. "But didn't Allen tell you any more?" "No. A man he used to know came into the cafe, and Allen got out of the back door. And I never saw him again." "I believe I can tell you a little more," said Marian. ...................... The Celebrity is still writing books of a high moral tone and unapproachable principle, and his popularity is undiminished. I have not heard, however, that he has given way to any more whims. PG EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: A man's character often give the lie to his tongue A lie has short legs Appearance of a professional pallbearer Architects should be driven and not followed Consequential or inconsequential irrespective of their size Deal with a fool according to his folly Impervious to hints, and would not take no for an answer Old enough to know better, and too old to be taught That abominable word "like" End of Project Gutenberg's The Celebrity, Complete, by Winston Churchill *** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CELEBRITY, COMPLETE *** ***** This file should be named 5387.txt or 5387.zip ***** This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: http://www.gutenberg.net/5/3/8/5387/ Produced by David Widger Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will be renamed. 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archibald

How many times the word 'archibald' appears in the text?

Everhardt."' "Sew me up," said Mr. Cooke; "if that don't beat hell!" CHAPTER XXI In this world of lies the good and the bad are so closely intermingled that frequently one is the means of obtaining the other. Therefore, I wish very freely to express my obligations to the Celebrity for any share he may have had in contributing to the greatest happiness of my life. Marian and I were married the very next month, October, at my client's palatial residence of Mohair. This was at Mr. Cooke's earnest wish: and since Marian was Mrs. Cooke's own niece, and an orphan, there seemed no good reason why my client should not be humored in the matter. As for Marian and me, we did not much care whether we were married at Mohair or the City of Mexico. Mrs. Cooke, I think, had a secret preference for Germantown. Mr. Cooke quite over-reached himself in that wedding. "The knot was tied," as the papers expressed it, "under a huge bell of yellow roses." The paper also named the figure which the flowers and the collation and other things cost Mr. Cooke. A natural reticence forbids me to repeat it. But, lest my client should think that I undervalue his kindness, I will say that we had the grandest wedding ever seen in that part of the world. McCann was there, and Mr. Cooke saw to it that he had a punchbowl all to himself in which to drink our healths: Judge Short was there, still followed by the conjugal eye: and Senator Trevor, who remained over, in a new long black coat to kiss the bride. Mr. Cooke chartered two cars to carry guests from the East, besides those who came as ordinary citizens. Miss Trevor was of the party, and Farrar, of course, was best man. Would that I had the flow of words possessed by the reporter of the Chicago Sunday newspaper! But there is one thing I must mention before Mrs. Crocker and I leave for New York, in a shower of rice, on Mr. Cooke's own private car, and that is my client's gift. In addition to the check he gave Marian, he presented us with a huge, 'repousse' silver urn he had had made to order, and he expressed a desire that the design upon it should remind us of him forever and ever. I think it will. Mercury is duly set forth in a gorgeous equipage, driving four horses around the world at a furious pace; and the artist, by special instructions, had docked their tails. From New York, Mrs. Crocker and I went abroad. And it so chanced, in December, that we were staying a few days at a country-place in Sussex, and the subject of The Sybarites was broached at a dinner-party. The book was then having its sale in England. "Crocker," said our host, "do you happen to have met the author of that book? He's an American." I looked across the table at my wife, and we both laughed. "I happen to know him intimately," I replied. "Do you, now?" said the Englishman; "what a very entertaining chap he is, is he not? I had him down in October, and, by Jove, we were laughing the blessed time. He was telling us how he wrote his novels, and he said, 'pon my soul he did, that he had a secretary or something of that sort to whom he told the plot, and the secretary elaborated, you know, and wrote the draft. And he said, 'pon my honor, that sometimes the clark wrote the plot and all,--the whole blessed thing,--and that he never saw the book except to sign his name to it." "You say he was here in October?" asked Marian, when the laugh had subsided. "I have the date," answered our host, "for he left me an autograph copy of The Sybarites when he went away." And after dinner he showed us the book, with evident pride. Inscribed on the fly-leaf was the name of the author, October 10th. But a glance sufficed to convince both of us that the Celebrity had never written it. "John," said Marian to me, a suspicion of the truth crossing her mind, "John, can it be the bicycle man?" "Yes, it can be," I said; "it is." "Well," said Marian, "he's been doing a little more for our friend than we did." Nor was this the last we heard of that meteoric trip through England, which the alleged author of The Sybarites had indulged in. He did not go up to London; not he. It was given out that he was travelling for his health, that he did not wish to be lionized; and there were friends of the author in the metropolis who had never heard of his secretary, and who were at a loss to understand his conduct. They felt slighted. One of these told me that the Celebrity had been to a Lincolnshire estate where he had created a decided sensation by his riding to hounds, something the Celebrity had never been known to do. And before we crossed the Channel, Marian saw another autograph copy of the famous novel. One day, some months afterwards, we were sitting in our little salon in a Paris hotel when a card was sent up, which Marian took. "John," she cried, "it's the Celebrity." It was the Celebrity, in the flesh, faultlessly groomed and clothed, with frock coat, gloves, and stick. He looked the picture of ruddy, manly health and strength, and we saw at once that he bore no ill-will for the past. He congratulated us warmly, and it was my turn to offer him a cigarette. He was nothing loath to reminisce on the subject of his experiences in the wilds of the northern lakes, or even to laugh over them. He asked affectionately after his friend Cooke. Time had softened his feelings, and we learned that he had another girl, who was in Paris just then, and invited us on the spot to dine with her at "Joseph's." Let me say, in passing, that as usual she did credit to the Celebrity's exceptional taste. "Now," said he, "I have something to tell you two." He asked for another cigarette, and I laid the box beside him. "I suppose you reached Saville all right," I said, anticipating. "Seven at night," said he, "and so hungry that I ate what they call marble cake for supper, and a great many other things out of little side dishes, and nearly died of indigestion afterward. Then I took a train up to the main line. An express came along. 'Why not go West?' I asked myself, and I jumped aboard. It was another whim--you know I am subject to them. When I got to Victoria I wired for money and sailed to Japan; and then I went on to India and through the Suez, taking things easy. I fell in with some people I knew who were going where the spirit moved them, and I went along. "Algiers, for one place, and whom do you think I saw there, in the lobby of a hotel?" "Charles Wrexell Allen," cried Marian and I together. The Celebrity looked surprised. "How did you know?" he demanded. "Go on with your story," said Marian; "what did he do?" "What did he do?" said the Celebrity; "why, the blackguard stepped up and shook me by the hand, and asked after my health, and wanted to know whether I were married yet. He was so beastly familiar that I took out my glass, and I got him into a cafe for fear some one would see me with him. 'My dear fellow,' said he, 'you did me the turn of my life.--How can I ever repay you?' 'Hang your impudence,' said I, but I wanted to hear what he had to say. 'Don't lose your temper, old chap,' he laughed; 'you took a few liberties with my name, and there was no good reason why I shouldn't take some with yours. Was there? When I think of it, the thing was most decidedly convenient; it was the hand of Providence.' 'You took liberties with my name,' I cried. With that he coolly called to the waiter to fill our glasses. 'Now,' said he, 'I've got a story for you. Do you remember the cotillon, or whatever it was, that Cooke gave? Well, that was all in the Chicago papers, and the "Miles Standish" agent there saw it, and he knew pretty well that I wasn't West. So he sent me the papers, just for fun. You may imagine my surprise when I read that I had been leading a dance out at Mohair, or some such barbarous place in the northwest. I looked it up on the map (Asquith, I mean), and then I began to think. I wondered who in the devil it might be who had taken my name and occupation, and all that. You see, I had just relieved the company of a little money, and it hit me like a clap of thunder one day that the idiot was you. But I couldn't be sure. And as long as I had to get out very soon anyway, I concluded to go to Mohair and make certain, and then pile things off on you if you happened to be the man.'" At this point Marian and I were seized with laughter, in which the Celebrity himself joined. Presently he continued: "'So I went,' said Allen. 'I provided myself with two disguises, as a careful man should, but by the time I reached that outlandish hole, Asquith, the little thing I was mixed up in burst prematurely, and the papers were full of it that morning. The whole place was out with sticks, so to speak, hunting for you. They told me the published description hit you to a dot, all except the scar, and they quarrelled about that. I posed as the promoter of resort syndicates, and I hired the Scimitar and sailed over to Bear Island; and I didn't have a bad time that afternoon, only Cooke insisted on making remarks about my whiskers, and I was in mortal fear lest he might accidentally pull one off. He came cursed near it. By the way, he's the very deuce of a man, isn't he? I knew he took me for a detective, so I played the part. And in the night that ass of a state senator nearly gave me pneumonia by getting me out in the air to tell me they had hid you in a cave. So I sat up all night, and followed the relief party in the morning, and you nearly disfigured me for life when you threw that bottle into the woods. Then I went back to camp, and left so fast that I forgot my extra pair of red whiskers. I had two of each disguise, you know, so I didn't miss them. "'I guess,' Mr. Allen went on, gleefully, 'that I got off about as cleanly as any criminal ever did, thanks to you. If we'd fixed the thing up between us it couldn't have been any neater, could it? Because I went straight to Far Harbor and got you into a peck of trouble, right away, and then slipped quietly into Canada, and put on the outfit of a travelling salesman. And right here another bright idea struck me. Why not carry the thing farther? I knew that you had advertised a trip to Europe (why, the Lord only knows), so I went East and sailed for England on the Canadian Line. And let me thank you for a little sport I had in a quiet way as the author of The Sybarites. I think I astonished some of your friends, old boy.'" The Celebrity lighted another cigarette. "So if it hadn't been for me," he said, "the 'Miles Standish Bicycle Company' wouldn't have gone to the wall. Can they sentence me for assisting Allen to get away, Crocker? If they can, I believe I shall stay over here." "I think you are safe," said I. "But didn't Allen tell you any more?" "No. A man he used to know came into the cafe, and Allen got out of the back door. And I never saw him again." "I believe I can tell you a little more," said Marian. ...................... The Celebrity is still writing books of a high moral tone and unapproachable principle, and his popularity is undiminished. I have not heard, however, that he has given way to any more whims. PG EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: A man's character often give the lie to his tongue A lie has short legs Appearance of a professional pallbearer Architects should be driven and not followed Consequential or inconsequential irrespective of their size Deal with a fool according to his folly Impervious to hints, and would not take no for an answer Old enough to know better, and too old to be taught That abominable word "like" End of Project Gutenberg's The Celebrity, Complete, by Winston Churchill *** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CELEBRITY, COMPLETE *** ***** This file should be named 5387.txt or 5387.zip ***** This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: http://www.gutenberg.net/5/3/8/5387/ Produced by David Widger Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will be renamed. 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how

How many times the word 'how' appears in the text?

Everhardt."' "Sew me up," said Mr. Cooke; "if that don't beat hell!" CHAPTER XXI In this world of lies the good and the bad are so closely intermingled that frequently one is the means of obtaining the other. Therefore, I wish very freely to express my obligations to the Celebrity for any share he may have had in contributing to the greatest happiness of my life. Marian and I were married the very next month, October, at my client's palatial residence of Mohair. This was at Mr. Cooke's earnest wish: and since Marian was Mrs. Cooke's own niece, and an orphan, there seemed no good reason why my client should not be humored in the matter. As for Marian and me, we did not much care whether we were married at Mohair or the City of Mexico. Mrs. Cooke, I think, had a secret preference for Germantown. Mr. Cooke quite over-reached himself in that wedding. "The knot was tied," as the papers expressed it, "under a huge bell of yellow roses." The paper also named the figure which the flowers and the collation and other things cost Mr. Cooke. A natural reticence forbids me to repeat it. But, lest my client should think that I undervalue his kindness, I will say that we had the grandest wedding ever seen in that part of the world. McCann was there, and Mr. Cooke saw to it that he had a punchbowl all to himself in which to drink our healths: Judge Short was there, still followed by the conjugal eye: and Senator Trevor, who remained over, in a new long black coat to kiss the bride. Mr. Cooke chartered two cars to carry guests from the East, besides those who came as ordinary citizens. Miss Trevor was of the party, and Farrar, of course, was best man. Would that I had the flow of words possessed by the reporter of the Chicago Sunday newspaper! But there is one thing I must mention before Mrs. Crocker and I leave for New York, in a shower of rice, on Mr. Cooke's own private car, and that is my client's gift. In addition to the check he gave Marian, he presented us with a huge, 'repousse' silver urn he had had made to order, and he expressed a desire that the design upon it should remind us of him forever and ever. I think it will. Mercury is duly set forth in a gorgeous equipage, driving four horses around the world at a furious pace; and the artist, by special instructions, had docked their tails. From New York, Mrs. Crocker and I went abroad. And it so chanced, in December, that we were staying a few days at a country-place in Sussex, and the subject of The Sybarites was broached at a dinner-party. The book was then having its sale in England. "Crocker," said our host, "do you happen to have met the author of that book? He's an American." I looked across the table at my wife, and we both laughed. "I happen to know him intimately," I replied. "Do you, now?" said the Englishman; "what a very entertaining chap he is, is he not? I had him down in October, and, by Jove, we were laughing the blessed time. He was telling us how he wrote his novels, and he said, 'pon my soul he did, that he had a secretary or something of that sort to whom he told the plot, and the secretary elaborated, you know, and wrote the draft. And he said, 'pon my honor, that sometimes the clark wrote the plot and all,--the whole blessed thing,--and that he never saw the book except to sign his name to it." "You say he was here in October?" asked Marian, when the laugh had subsided. "I have the date," answered our host, "for he left me an autograph copy of The Sybarites when he went away." And after dinner he showed us the book, with evident pride. Inscribed on the fly-leaf was the name of the author, October 10th. But a glance sufficed to convince both of us that the Celebrity had never written it. "John," said Marian to me, a suspicion of the truth crossing her mind, "John, can it be the bicycle man?" "Yes, it can be," I said; "it is." "Well," said Marian, "he's been doing a little more for our friend than we did." Nor was this the last we heard of that meteoric trip through England, which the alleged author of The Sybarites had indulged in. He did not go up to London; not he. It was given out that he was travelling for his health, that he did not wish to be lionized; and there were friends of the author in the metropolis who had never heard of his secretary, and who were at a loss to understand his conduct. They felt slighted. One of these told me that the Celebrity had been to a Lincolnshire estate where he had created a decided sensation by his riding to hounds, something the Celebrity had never been known to do. And before we crossed the Channel, Marian saw another autograph copy of the famous novel. One day, some months afterwards, we were sitting in our little salon in a Paris hotel when a card was sent up, which Marian took. "John," she cried, "it's the Celebrity." It was the Celebrity, in the flesh, faultlessly groomed and clothed, with frock coat, gloves, and stick. He looked the picture of ruddy, manly health and strength, and we saw at once that he bore no ill-will for the past. He congratulated us warmly, and it was my turn to offer him a cigarette. He was nothing loath to reminisce on the subject of his experiences in the wilds of the northern lakes, or even to laugh over them. He asked affectionately after his friend Cooke. Time had softened his feelings, and we learned that he had another girl, who was in Paris just then, and invited us on the spot to dine with her at "Joseph's." Let me say, in passing, that as usual she did credit to the Celebrity's exceptional taste. "Now," said he, "I have something to tell you two." He asked for another cigarette, and I laid the box beside him. "I suppose you reached Saville all right," I said, anticipating. "Seven at night," said he, "and so hungry that I ate what they call marble cake for supper, and a great many other things out of little side dishes, and nearly died of indigestion afterward. Then I took a train up to the main line. An express came along. 'Why not go West?' I asked myself, and I jumped aboard. It was another whim--you know I am subject to them. When I got to Victoria I wired for money and sailed to Japan; and then I went on to India and through the Suez, taking things easy. I fell in with some people I knew who were going where the spirit moved them, and I went along. "Algiers, for one place, and whom do you think I saw there, in the lobby of a hotel?" "Charles Wrexell Allen," cried Marian and I together. The Celebrity looked surprised. "How did you know?" he demanded. "Go on with your story," said Marian; "what did he do?" "What did he do?" said the Celebrity; "why, the blackguard stepped up and shook me by the hand, and asked after my health, and wanted to know whether I were married yet. He was so beastly familiar that I took out my glass, and I got him into a cafe for fear some one would see me with him. 'My dear fellow,' said he, 'you did me the turn of my life.--How can I ever repay you?' 'Hang your impudence,' said I, but I wanted to hear what he had to say. 'Don't lose your temper, old chap,' he laughed; 'you took a few liberties with my name, and there was no good reason why I shouldn't take some with yours. Was there? When I think of it, the thing was most decidedly convenient; it was the hand of Providence.' 'You took liberties with my name,' I cried. With that he coolly called to the waiter to fill our glasses. 'Now,' said he, 'I've got a story for you. Do you remember the cotillon, or whatever it was, that Cooke gave? Well, that was all in the Chicago papers, and the "Miles Standish" agent there saw it, and he knew pretty well that I wasn't West. So he sent me the papers, just for fun. You may imagine my surprise when I read that I had been leading a dance out at Mohair, or some such barbarous place in the northwest. I looked it up on the map (Asquith, I mean), and then I began to think. I wondered who in the devil it might be who had taken my name and occupation, and all that. You see, I had just relieved the company of a little money, and it hit me like a clap of thunder one day that the idiot was you. But I couldn't be sure. And as long as I had to get out very soon anyway, I concluded to go to Mohair and make certain, and then pile things off on you if you happened to be the man.'" At this point Marian and I were seized with laughter, in which the Celebrity himself joined. Presently he continued: "'So I went,' said Allen. 'I provided myself with two disguises, as a careful man should, but by the time I reached that outlandish hole, Asquith, the little thing I was mixed up in burst prematurely, and the papers were full of it that morning. The whole place was out with sticks, so to speak, hunting for you. They told me the published description hit you to a dot, all except the scar, and they quarrelled about that. I posed as the promoter of resort syndicates, and I hired the Scimitar and sailed over to Bear Island; and I didn't have a bad time that afternoon, only Cooke insisted on making remarks about my whiskers, and I was in mortal fear lest he might accidentally pull one off. He came cursed near it. By the way, he's the very deuce of a man, isn't he? I knew he took me for a detective, so I played the part. And in the night that ass of a state senator nearly gave me pneumonia by getting me out in the air to tell me they had hid you in a cave. So I sat up all night, and followed the relief party in the morning, and you nearly disfigured me for life when you threw that bottle into the woods. Then I went back to camp, and left so fast that I forgot my extra pair of red whiskers. I had two of each disguise, you know, so I didn't miss them. "'I guess,' Mr. Allen went on, gleefully, 'that I got off about as cleanly as any criminal ever did, thanks to you. If we'd fixed the thing up between us it couldn't have been any neater, could it? Because I went straight to Far Harbor and got you into a peck of trouble, right away, and then slipped quietly into Canada, and put on the outfit of a travelling salesman. And right here another bright idea struck me. Why not carry the thing farther? I knew that you had advertised a trip to Europe (why, the Lord only knows), so I went East and sailed for England on the Canadian Line. And let me thank you for a little sport I had in a quiet way as the author of The Sybarites. I think I astonished some of your friends, old boy.'" The Celebrity lighted another cigarette. "So if it hadn't been for me," he said, "the 'Miles Standish Bicycle Company' wouldn't have gone to the wall. Can they sentence me for assisting Allen to get away, Crocker? If they can, I believe I shall stay over here." "I think you are safe," said I. "But didn't Allen tell you any more?" "No. A man he used to know came into the cafe, and Allen got out of the back door. And I never saw him again." "I believe I can tell you a little more," said Marian. ...................... The Celebrity is still writing books of a high moral tone and unapproachable principle, and his popularity is undiminished. I have not heard, however, that he has given way to any more whims. PG EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: A man's character often give the lie to his tongue A lie has short legs Appearance of a professional pallbearer Architects should be driven and not followed Consequential or inconsequential irrespective of their size Deal with a fool according to his folly Impervious to hints, and would not take no for an answer Old enough to know better, and too old to be taught That abominable word "like" End of Project Gutenberg's The Celebrity, Complete, by Winston Churchill *** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CELEBRITY, COMPLETE *** ***** This file should be named 5387.txt or 5387.zip ***** This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: http://www.gutenberg.net/5/3/8/5387/ Produced by David Widger Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will be renamed. 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clean

How many times the word 'clean' appears in the text?

Everhardt."' "Sew me up," said Mr. Cooke; "if that don't beat hell!" CHAPTER XXI In this world of lies the good and the bad are so closely intermingled that frequently one is the means of obtaining the other. Therefore, I wish very freely to express my obligations to the Celebrity for any share he may have had in contributing to the greatest happiness of my life. Marian and I were married the very next month, October, at my client's palatial residence of Mohair. This was at Mr. Cooke's earnest wish: and since Marian was Mrs. Cooke's own niece, and an orphan, there seemed no good reason why my client should not be humored in the matter. As for Marian and me, we did not much care whether we were married at Mohair or the City of Mexico. Mrs. Cooke, I think, had a secret preference for Germantown. Mr. Cooke quite over-reached himself in that wedding. "The knot was tied," as the papers expressed it, "under a huge bell of yellow roses." The paper also named the figure which the flowers and the collation and other things cost Mr. Cooke. A natural reticence forbids me to repeat it. But, lest my client should think that I undervalue his kindness, I will say that we had the grandest wedding ever seen in that part of the world. McCann was there, and Mr. Cooke saw to it that he had a punchbowl all to himself in which to drink our healths: Judge Short was there, still followed by the conjugal eye: and Senator Trevor, who remained over, in a new long black coat to kiss the bride. Mr. Cooke chartered two cars to carry guests from the East, besides those who came as ordinary citizens. Miss Trevor was of the party, and Farrar, of course, was best man. Would that I had the flow of words possessed by the reporter of the Chicago Sunday newspaper! But there is one thing I must mention before Mrs. Crocker and I leave for New York, in a shower of rice, on Mr. Cooke's own private car, and that is my client's gift. In addition to the check he gave Marian, he presented us with a huge, 'repousse' silver urn he had had made to order, and he expressed a desire that the design upon it should remind us of him forever and ever. I think it will. Mercury is duly set forth in a gorgeous equipage, driving four horses around the world at a furious pace; and the artist, by special instructions, had docked their tails. From New York, Mrs. Crocker and I went abroad. And it so chanced, in December, that we were staying a few days at a country-place in Sussex, and the subject of The Sybarites was broached at a dinner-party. The book was then having its sale in England. "Crocker," said our host, "do you happen to have met the author of that book? He's an American." I looked across the table at my wife, and we both laughed. "I happen to know him intimately," I replied. "Do you, now?" said the Englishman; "what a very entertaining chap he is, is he not? I had him down in October, and, by Jove, we were laughing the blessed time. He was telling us how he wrote his novels, and he said, 'pon my soul he did, that he had a secretary or something of that sort to whom he told the plot, and the secretary elaborated, you know, and wrote the draft. And he said, 'pon my honor, that sometimes the clark wrote the plot and all,--the whole blessed thing,--and that he never saw the book except to sign his name to it." "You say he was here in October?" asked Marian, when the laugh had subsided. "I have the date," answered our host, "for he left me an autograph copy of The Sybarites when he went away." And after dinner he showed us the book, with evident pride. Inscribed on the fly-leaf was the name of the author, October 10th. But a glance sufficed to convince both of us that the Celebrity had never written it. "John," said Marian to me, a suspicion of the truth crossing her mind, "John, can it be the bicycle man?" "Yes, it can be," I said; "it is." "Well," said Marian, "he's been doing a little more for our friend than we did." Nor was this the last we heard of that meteoric trip through England, which the alleged author of The Sybarites had indulged in. He did not go up to London; not he. It was given out that he was travelling for his health, that he did not wish to be lionized; and there were friends of the author in the metropolis who had never heard of his secretary, and who were at a loss to understand his conduct. They felt slighted. One of these told me that the Celebrity had been to a Lincolnshire estate where he had created a decided sensation by his riding to hounds, something the Celebrity had never been known to do. And before we crossed the Channel, Marian saw another autograph copy of the famous novel. One day, some months afterwards, we were sitting in our little salon in a Paris hotel when a card was sent up, which Marian took. "John," she cried, "it's the Celebrity." It was the Celebrity, in the flesh, faultlessly groomed and clothed, with frock coat, gloves, and stick. He looked the picture of ruddy, manly health and strength, and we saw at once that he bore no ill-will for the past. He congratulated us warmly, and it was my turn to offer him a cigarette. He was nothing loath to reminisce on the subject of his experiences in the wilds of the northern lakes, or even to laugh over them. He asked affectionately after his friend Cooke. Time had softened his feelings, and we learned that he had another girl, who was in Paris just then, and invited us on the spot to dine with her at "Joseph's." Let me say, in passing, that as usual she did credit to the Celebrity's exceptional taste. "Now," said he, "I have something to tell you two." He asked for another cigarette, and I laid the box beside him. "I suppose you reached Saville all right," I said, anticipating. "Seven at night," said he, "and so hungry that I ate what they call marble cake for supper, and a great many other things out of little side dishes, and nearly died of indigestion afterward. Then I took a train up to the main line. An express came along. 'Why not go West?' I asked myself, and I jumped aboard. It was another whim--you know I am subject to them. When I got to Victoria I wired for money and sailed to Japan; and then I went on to India and through the Suez, taking things easy. I fell in with some people I knew who were going where the spirit moved them, and I went along. "Algiers, for one place, and whom do you think I saw there, in the lobby of a hotel?" "Charles Wrexell Allen," cried Marian and I together. The Celebrity looked surprised. "How did you know?" he demanded. "Go on with your story," said Marian; "what did he do?" "What did he do?" said the Celebrity; "why, the blackguard stepped up and shook me by the hand, and asked after my health, and wanted to know whether I were married yet. He was so beastly familiar that I took out my glass, and I got him into a cafe for fear some one would see me with him. 'My dear fellow,' said he, 'you did me the turn of my life.--How can I ever repay you?' 'Hang your impudence,' said I, but I wanted to hear what he had to say. 'Don't lose your temper, old chap,' he laughed; 'you took a few liberties with my name, and there was no good reason why I shouldn't take some with yours. Was there? When I think of it, the thing was most decidedly convenient; it was the hand of Providence.' 'You took liberties with my name,' I cried. With that he coolly called to the waiter to fill our glasses. 'Now,' said he, 'I've got a story for you. Do you remember the cotillon, or whatever it was, that Cooke gave? Well, that was all in the Chicago papers, and the "Miles Standish" agent there saw it, and he knew pretty well that I wasn't West. So he sent me the papers, just for fun. You may imagine my surprise when I read that I had been leading a dance out at Mohair, or some such barbarous place in the northwest. I looked it up on the map (Asquith, I mean), and then I began to think. I wondered who in the devil it might be who had taken my name and occupation, and all that. You see, I had just relieved the company of a little money, and it hit me like a clap of thunder one day that the idiot was you. But I couldn't be sure. And as long as I had to get out very soon anyway, I concluded to go to Mohair and make certain, and then pile things off on you if you happened to be the man.'" At this point Marian and I were seized with laughter, in which the Celebrity himself joined. Presently he continued: "'So I went,' said Allen. 'I provided myself with two disguises, as a careful man should, but by the time I reached that outlandish hole, Asquith, the little thing I was mixed up in burst prematurely, and the papers were full of it that morning. The whole place was out with sticks, so to speak, hunting for you. They told me the published description hit you to a dot, all except the scar, and they quarrelled about that. I posed as the promoter of resort syndicates, and I hired the Scimitar and sailed over to Bear Island; and I didn't have a bad time that afternoon, only Cooke insisted on making remarks about my whiskers, and I was in mortal fear lest he might accidentally pull one off. He came cursed near it. By the way, he's the very deuce of a man, isn't he? I knew he took me for a detective, so I played the part. And in the night that ass of a state senator nearly gave me pneumonia by getting me out in the air to tell me they had hid you in a cave. So I sat up all night, and followed the relief party in the morning, and you nearly disfigured me for life when you threw that bottle into the woods. Then I went back to camp, and left so fast that I forgot my extra pair of red whiskers. I had two of each disguise, you know, so I didn't miss them. "'I guess,' Mr. Allen went on, gleefully, 'that I got off about as cleanly as any criminal ever did, thanks to you. If we'd fixed the thing up between us it couldn't have been any neater, could it? Because I went straight to Far Harbor and got you into a peck of trouble, right away, and then slipped quietly into Canada, and put on the outfit of a travelling salesman. And right here another bright idea struck me. Why not carry the thing farther? I knew that you had advertised a trip to Europe (why, the Lord only knows), so I went East and sailed for England on the Canadian Line. And let me thank you for a little sport I had in a quiet way as the author of The Sybarites. I think I astonished some of your friends, old boy.'" The Celebrity lighted another cigarette. "So if it hadn't been for me," he said, "the 'Miles Standish Bicycle Company' wouldn't have gone to the wall. Can they sentence me for assisting Allen to get away, Crocker? If they can, I believe I shall stay over here." "I think you are safe," said I. "But didn't Allen tell you any more?" "No. A man he used to know came into the cafe, and Allen got out of the back door. And I never saw him again." "I believe I can tell you a little more," said Marian. ...................... The Celebrity is still writing books of a high moral tone and unapproachable principle, and his popularity is undiminished. I have not heard, however, that he has given way to any more whims. PG EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: A man's character often give the lie to his tongue A lie has short legs Appearance of a professional pallbearer Architects should be driven and not followed Consequential or inconsequential irrespective of their size Deal with a fool according to his folly Impervious to hints, and would not take no for an answer Old enough to know better, and too old to be taught That abominable word "like" End of Project Gutenberg's The Celebrity, Complete, by Winston Churchill *** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CELEBRITY, COMPLETE *** ***** This file should be named 5387.txt or 5387.zip ***** This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: http://www.gutenberg.net/5/3/8/5387/ Produced by David Widger Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will be renamed. 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Everhardt."' "Sew me up," said Mr. Cooke; "if that don't beat hell!" CHAPTER XXI In this world of lies the good and the bad are so closely intermingled that frequently one is the means of obtaining the other. Therefore, I wish very freely to express my obligations to the Celebrity for any share he may have had in contributing to the greatest happiness of my life. Marian and I were married the very next month, October, at my client's palatial residence of Mohair. This was at Mr. Cooke's earnest wish: and since Marian was Mrs. Cooke's own niece, and an orphan, there seemed no good reason why my client should not be humored in the matter. As for Marian and me, we did not much care whether we were married at Mohair or the City of Mexico. Mrs. Cooke, I think, had a secret preference for Germantown. Mr. Cooke quite over-reached himself in that wedding. "The knot was tied," as the papers expressed it, "under a huge bell of yellow roses." The paper also named the figure which the flowers and the collation and other things cost Mr. Cooke. A natural reticence forbids me to repeat it. But, lest my client should think that I undervalue his kindness, I will say that we had the grandest wedding ever seen in that part of the world. McCann was there, and Mr. Cooke saw to it that he had a punchbowl all to himself in which to drink our healths: Judge Short was there, still followed by the conjugal eye: and Senator Trevor, who remained over, in a new long black coat to kiss the bride. Mr. Cooke chartered two cars to carry guests from the East, besides those who came as ordinary citizens. Miss Trevor was of the party, and Farrar, of course, was best man. Would that I had the flow of words possessed by the reporter of the Chicago Sunday newspaper! But there is one thing I must mention before Mrs. Crocker and I leave for New York, in a shower of rice, on Mr. Cooke's own private car, and that is my client's gift. In addition to the check he gave Marian, he presented us with a huge, 'repousse' silver urn he had had made to order, and he expressed a desire that the design upon it should remind us of him forever and ever. I think it will. Mercury is duly set forth in a gorgeous equipage, driving four horses around the world at a furious pace; and the artist, by special instructions, had docked their tails. From New York, Mrs. Crocker and I went abroad. And it so chanced, in December, that we were staying a few days at a country-place in Sussex, and the subject of The Sybarites was broached at a dinner-party. The book was then having its sale in England. "Crocker," said our host, "do you happen to have met the author of that book? He's an American." I looked across the table at my wife, and we both laughed. "I happen to know him intimately," I replied. "Do you, now?" said the Englishman; "what a very entertaining chap he is, is he not? I had him down in October, and, by Jove, we were laughing the blessed time. He was telling us how he wrote his novels, and he said, 'pon my soul he did, that he had a secretary or something of that sort to whom he told the plot, and the secretary elaborated, you know, and wrote the draft. And he said, 'pon my honor, that sometimes the clark wrote the plot and all,--the whole blessed thing,--and that he never saw the book except to sign his name to it." "You say he was here in October?" asked Marian, when the laugh had subsided. "I have the date," answered our host, "for he left me an autograph copy of The Sybarites when he went away." And after dinner he showed us the book, with evident pride. Inscribed on the fly-leaf was the name of the author, October 10th. But a glance sufficed to convince both of us that the Celebrity had never written it. "John," said Marian to me, a suspicion of the truth crossing her mind, "John, can it be the bicycle man?" "Yes, it can be," I said; "it is." "Well," said Marian, "he's been doing a little more for our friend than we did." Nor was this the last we heard of that meteoric trip through England, which the alleged author of The Sybarites had indulged in. He did not go up to London; not he. It was given out that he was travelling for his health, that he did not wish to be lionized; and there were friends of the author in the metropolis who had never heard of his secretary, and who were at a loss to understand his conduct. They felt slighted. One of these told me that the Celebrity had been to a Lincolnshire estate where he had created a decided sensation by his riding to hounds, something the Celebrity had never been known to do. And before we crossed the Channel, Marian saw another autograph copy of the famous novel. One day, some months afterwards, we were sitting in our little salon in a Paris hotel when a card was sent up, which Marian took. "John," she cried, "it's the Celebrity." It was the Celebrity, in the flesh, faultlessly groomed and clothed, with frock coat, gloves, and stick. He looked the picture of ruddy, manly health and strength, and we saw at once that he bore no ill-will for the past. He congratulated us warmly, and it was my turn to offer him a cigarette. He was nothing loath to reminisce on the subject of his experiences in the wilds of the northern lakes, or even to laugh over them. He asked affectionately after his friend Cooke. Time had softened his feelings, and we learned that he had another girl, who was in Paris just then, and invited us on the spot to dine with her at "Joseph's." Let me say, in passing, that as usual she did credit to the Celebrity's exceptional taste. "Now," said he, "I have something to tell you two." He asked for another cigarette, and I laid the box beside him. "I suppose you reached Saville all right," I said, anticipating. "Seven at night," said he, "and so hungry that I ate what they call marble cake for supper, and a great many other things out of little side dishes, and nearly died of indigestion afterward. Then I took a train up to the main line. An express came along. 'Why not go West?' I asked myself, and I jumped aboard. It was another whim--you know I am subject to them. When I got to Victoria I wired for money and sailed to Japan; and then I went on to India and through the Suez, taking things easy. I fell in with some people I knew who were going where the spirit moved them, and I went along. "Algiers, for one place, and whom do you think I saw there, in the lobby of a hotel?" "Charles Wrexell Allen," cried Marian and I together. The Celebrity looked surprised. "How did you know?" he demanded. "Go on with your story," said Marian; "what did he do?" "What did he do?" said the Celebrity; "why, the blackguard stepped up and shook me by the hand, and asked after my health, and wanted to know whether I were married yet. He was so beastly familiar that I took out my glass, and I got him into a cafe for fear some one would see me with him. 'My dear fellow,' said he, 'you did me the turn of my life.--How can I ever repay you?' 'Hang your impudence,' said I, but I wanted to hear what he had to say. 'Don't lose your temper, old chap,' he laughed; 'you took a few liberties with my name, and there was no good reason why I shouldn't take some with yours. Was there? When I think of it, the thing was most decidedly convenient; it was the hand of Providence.' 'You took liberties with my name,' I cried. With that he coolly called to the waiter to fill our glasses. 'Now,' said he, 'I've got a story for you. Do you remember the cotillon, or whatever it was, that Cooke gave? Well, that was all in the Chicago papers, and the "Miles Standish" agent there saw it, and he knew pretty well that I wasn't West. So he sent me the papers, just for fun. You may imagine my surprise when I read that I had been leading a dance out at Mohair, or some such barbarous place in the northwest. I looked it up on the map (Asquith, I mean), and then I began to think. I wondered who in the devil it might be who had taken my name and occupation, and all that. You see, I had just relieved the company of a little money, and it hit me like a clap of thunder one day that the idiot was you. But I couldn't be sure. And as long as I had to get out very soon anyway, I concluded to go to Mohair and make certain, and then pile things off on you if you happened to be the man.'" At this point Marian and I were seized with laughter, in which the Celebrity himself joined. Presently he continued: "'So I went,' said Allen. 'I provided myself with two disguises, as a careful man should, but by the time I reached that outlandish hole, Asquith, the little thing I was mixed up in burst prematurely, and the papers were full of it that morning. The whole place was out with sticks, so to speak, hunting for you. They told me the published description hit you to a dot, all except the scar, and they quarrelled about that. I posed as the promoter of resort syndicates, and I hired the Scimitar and sailed over to Bear Island; and I didn't have a bad time that afternoon, only Cooke insisted on making remarks about my whiskers, and I was in mortal fear lest he might accidentally pull one off. He came cursed near it. By the way, he's the very deuce of a man, isn't he? I knew he took me for a detective, so I played the part. And in the night that ass of a state senator nearly gave me pneumonia by getting me out in the air to tell me they had hid you in a cave. So I sat up all night, and followed the relief party in the morning, and you nearly disfigured me for life when you threw that bottle into the woods. Then I went back to camp, and left so fast that I forgot my extra pair of red whiskers. I had two of each disguise, you know, so I didn't miss them. "'I guess,' Mr. Allen went on, gleefully, 'that I got off about as cleanly as any criminal ever did, thanks to you. If we'd fixed the thing up between us it couldn't have been any neater, could it? Because I went straight to Far Harbor and got you into a peck of trouble, right away, and then slipped quietly into Canada, and put on the outfit of a travelling salesman. And right here another bright idea struck me. Why not carry the thing farther? I knew that you had advertised a trip to Europe (why, the Lord only knows), so I went East and sailed for England on the Canadian Line. And let me thank you for a little sport I had in a quiet way as the author of The Sybarites. I think I astonished some of your friends, old boy.'" The Celebrity lighted another cigarette. "So if it hadn't been for me," he said, "the 'Miles Standish Bicycle Company' wouldn't have gone to the wall. Can they sentence me for assisting Allen to get away, Crocker? If they can, I believe I shall stay over here." "I think you are safe," said I. "But didn't Allen tell you any more?" "No. A man he used to know came into the cafe, and Allen got out of the back door. And I never saw him again." "I believe I can tell you a little more," said Marian. ...................... The Celebrity is still writing books of a high moral tone and unapproachable principle, and his popularity is undiminished. I have not heard, however, that he has given way to any more whims. PG EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: A man's character often give the lie to his tongue A lie has short legs Appearance of a professional pallbearer Architects should be driven and not followed Consequential or inconsequential irrespective of their size Deal with a fool according to his folly Impervious to hints, and would not take no for an answer Old enough to know better, and too old to be taught That abominable word "like" End of Project Gutenberg's The Celebrity, Complete, by Winston Churchill *** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CELEBRITY, COMPLETE *** ***** This file should be named 5387.txt or 5387.zip ***** This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: http://www.gutenberg.net/5/3/8/5387/ Produced by David Widger Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will be renamed. 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How many times the word 'now' appears in the text?

Everhardt."' "Sew me up," said Mr. Cooke; "if that don't beat hell!" CHAPTER XXI In this world of lies the good and the bad are so closely intermingled that frequently one is the means of obtaining the other. Therefore, I wish very freely to express my obligations to the Celebrity for any share he may have had in contributing to the greatest happiness of my life. Marian and I were married the very next month, October, at my client's palatial residence of Mohair. This was at Mr. Cooke's earnest wish: and since Marian was Mrs. Cooke's own niece, and an orphan, there seemed no good reason why my client should not be humored in the matter. As for Marian and me, we did not much care whether we were married at Mohair or the City of Mexico. Mrs. Cooke, I think, had a secret preference for Germantown. Mr. Cooke quite over-reached himself in that wedding. "The knot was tied," as the papers expressed it, "under a huge bell of yellow roses." The paper also named the figure which the flowers and the collation and other things cost Mr. Cooke. A natural reticence forbids me to repeat it. But, lest my client should think that I undervalue his kindness, I will say that we had the grandest wedding ever seen in that part of the world. McCann was there, and Mr. Cooke saw to it that he had a punchbowl all to himself in which to drink our healths: Judge Short was there, still followed by the conjugal eye: and Senator Trevor, who remained over, in a new long black coat to kiss the bride. Mr. Cooke chartered two cars to carry guests from the East, besides those who came as ordinary citizens. Miss Trevor was of the party, and Farrar, of course, was best man. Would that I had the flow of words possessed by the reporter of the Chicago Sunday newspaper! But there is one thing I must mention before Mrs. Crocker and I leave for New York, in a shower of rice, on Mr. Cooke's own private car, and that is my client's gift. In addition to the check he gave Marian, he presented us with a huge, 'repousse' silver urn he had had made to order, and he expressed a desire that the design upon it should remind us of him forever and ever. I think it will. Mercury is duly set forth in a gorgeous equipage, driving four horses around the world at a furious pace; and the artist, by special instructions, had docked their tails. From New York, Mrs. Crocker and I went abroad. And it so chanced, in December, that we were staying a few days at a country-place in Sussex, and the subject of The Sybarites was broached at a dinner-party. The book was then having its sale in England. "Crocker," said our host, "do you happen to have met the author of that book? He's an American." I looked across the table at my wife, and we both laughed. "I happen to know him intimately," I replied. "Do you, now?" said the Englishman; "what a very entertaining chap he is, is he not? I had him down in October, and, by Jove, we were laughing the blessed time. He was telling us how he wrote his novels, and he said, 'pon my soul he did, that he had a secretary or something of that sort to whom he told the plot, and the secretary elaborated, you know, and wrote the draft. And he said, 'pon my honor, that sometimes the clark wrote the plot and all,--the whole blessed thing,--and that he never saw the book except to sign his name to it." "You say he was here in October?" asked Marian, when the laugh had subsided. "I have the date," answered our host, "for he left me an autograph copy of The Sybarites when he went away." And after dinner he showed us the book, with evident pride. Inscribed on the fly-leaf was the name of the author, October 10th. But a glance sufficed to convince both of us that the Celebrity had never written it. "John," said Marian to me, a suspicion of the truth crossing her mind, "John, can it be the bicycle man?" "Yes, it can be," I said; "it is." "Well," said Marian, "he's been doing a little more for our friend than we did." Nor was this the last we heard of that meteoric trip through England, which the alleged author of The Sybarites had indulged in. He did not go up to London; not he. It was given out that he was travelling for his health, that he did not wish to be lionized; and there were friends of the author in the metropolis who had never heard of his secretary, and who were at a loss to understand his conduct. They felt slighted. One of these told me that the Celebrity had been to a Lincolnshire estate where he had created a decided sensation by his riding to hounds, something the Celebrity had never been known to do. And before we crossed the Channel, Marian saw another autograph copy of the famous novel. One day, some months afterwards, we were sitting in our little salon in a Paris hotel when a card was sent up, which Marian took. "John," she cried, "it's the Celebrity." It was the Celebrity, in the flesh, faultlessly groomed and clothed, with frock coat, gloves, and stick. He looked the picture of ruddy, manly health and strength, and we saw at once that he bore no ill-will for the past. He congratulated us warmly, and it was my turn to offer him a cigarette. He was nothing loath to reminisce on the subject of his experiences in the wilds of the northern lakes, or even to laugh over them. He asked affectionately after his friend Cooke. Time had softened his feelings, and we learned that he had another girl, who was in Paris just then, and invited us on the spot to dine with her at "Joseph's." Let me say, in passing, that as usual she did credit to the Celebrity's exceptional taste. "Now," said he, "I have something to tell you two." He asked for another cigarette, and I laid the box beside him. "I suppose you reached Saville all right," I said, anticipating. "Seven at night," said he, "and so hungry that I ate what they call marble cake for supper, and a great many other things out of little side dishes, and nearly died of indigestion afterward. Then I took a train up to the main line. An express came along. 'Why not go West?' I asked myself, and I jumped aboard. It was another whim--you know I am subject to them. When I got to Victoria I wired for money and sailed to Japan; and then I went on to India and through the Suez, taking things easy. I fell in with some people I knew who were going where the spirit moved them, and I went along. "Algiers, for one place, and whom do you think I saw there, in the lobby of a hotel?" "Charles Wrexell Allen," cried Marian and I together. The Celebrity looked surprised. "How did you know?" he demanded. "Go on with your story," said Marian; "what did he do?" "What did he do?" said the Celebrity; "why, the blackguard stepped up and shook me by the hand, and asked after my health, and wanted to know whether I were married yet. He was so beastly familiar that I took out my glass, and I got him into a cafe for fear some one would see me with him. 'My dear fellow,' said he, 'you did me the turn of my life.--How can I ever repay you?' 'Hang your impudence,' said I, but I wanted to hear what he had to say. 'Don't lose your temper, old chap,' he laughed; 'you took a few liberties with my name, and there was no good reason why I shouldn't take some with yours. Was there? When I think of it, the thing was most decidedly convenient; it was the hand of Providence.' 'You took liberties with my name,' I cried. With that he coolly called to the waiter to fill our glasses. 'Now,' said he, 'I've got a story for you. Do you remember the cotillon, or whatever it was, that Cooke gave? Well, that was all in the Chicago papers, and the "Miles Standish" agent there saw it, and he knew pretty well that I wasn't West. So he sent me the papers, just for fun. You may imagine my surprise when I read that I had been leading a dance out at Mohair, or some such barbarous place in the northwest. I looked it up on the map (Asquith, I mean), and then I began to think. I wondered who in the devil it might be who had taken my name and occupation, and all that. You see, I had just relieved the company of a little money, and it hit me like a clap of thunder one day that the idiot was you. But I couldn't be sure. And as long as I had to get out very soon anyway, I concluded to go to Mohair and make certain, and then pile things off on you if you happened to be the man.'" At this point Marian and I were seized with laughter, in which the Celebrity himself joined. Presently he continued: "'So I went,' said Allen. 'I provided myself with two disguises, as a careful man should, but by the time I reached that outlandish hole, Asquith, the little thing I was mixed up in burst prematurely, and the papers were full of it that morning. The whole place was out with sticks, so to speak, hunting for you. They told me the published description hit you to a dot, all except the scar, and they quarrelled about that. I posed as the promoter of resort syndicates, and I hired the Scimitar and sailed over to Bear Island; and I didn't have a bad time that afternoon, only Cooke insisted on making remarks about my whiskers, and I was in mortal fear lest he might accidentally pull one off. He came cursed near it. By the way, he's the very deuce of a man, isn't he? I knew he took me for a detective, so I played the part. And in the night that ass of a state senator nearly gave me pneumonia by getting me out in the air to tell me they had hid you in a cave. So I sat up all night, and followed the relief party in the morning, and you nearly disfigured me for life when you threw that bottle into the woods. Then I went back to camp, and left so fast that I forgot my extra pair of red whiskers. I had two of each disguise, you know, so I didn't miss them. "'I guess,' Mr. Allen went on, gleefully, 'that I got off about as cleanly as any criminal ever did, thanks to you. If we'd fixed the thing up between us it couldn't have been any neater, could it? Because I went straight to Far Harbor and got you into a peck of trouble, right away, and then slipped quietly into Canada, and put on the outfit of a travelling salesman. And right here another bright idea struck me. Why not carry the thing farther? I knew that you had advertised a trip to Europe (why, the Lord only knows), so I went East and sailed for England on the Canadian Line. And let me thank you for a little sport I had in a quiet way as the author of The Sybarites. I think I astonished some of your friends, old boy.'" The Celebrity lighted another cigarette. "So if it hadn't been for me," he said, "the 'Miles Standish Bicycle Company' wouldn't have gone to the wall. Can they sentence me for assisting Allen to get away, Crocker? If they can, I believe I shall stay over here." "I think you are safe," said I. "But didn't Allen tell you any more?" "No. A man he used to know came into the cafe, and Allen got out of the back door. And I never saw him again." "I believe I can tell you a little more," said Marian. ...................... The Celebrity is still writing books of a high moral tone and unapproachable principle, and his popularity is undiminished. I have not heard, however, that he has given way to any more whims. PG EDITOR'S BOOKMARKS: A man's character often give the lie to his tongue A lie has short legs Appearance of a professional pallbearer Architects should be driven and not followed Consequential or inconsequential irrespective of their size Deal with a fool according to his folly Impervious to hints, and would not take no for an answer Old enough to know better, and too old to be taught That abominable word "like" End of Project Gutenberg's The Celebrity, Complete, by Winston Churchill *** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CELEBRITY, COMPLETE *** ***** This file should be named 5387.txt or 5387.zip ***** This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: http://www.gutenberg.net/5/3/8/5387/ Produced by David Widger Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will be renamed. 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FIRE and BUBBLES. Trillian looks around. Scared shitless. The bubbles clear just in time for her to see -- Chin, mouth open, eyes wide, screaming in agony, being ripped past her. She tries to fire her rifle. Too late. Trillian watches as Chin VANISHES down the shaft in a CLOUD OF BUBBLES. CUT TO: 100 KITCHEN - NIGHT 100 TRILLIAN BURSTS to the surface. FINNEGAN YANKS her up and out of the water. FINNEGAN You O.K.? Trillian can only nod, and gasp for breath. Canton and Hanover catch their breath, PANTING AWAY, waterlogged. Hanover reaches over to retrieve the rifle in Trillian's hand. Trillian points the barrel at him, and hits the safety. TRILLIAN (grim) Finders keepers. Mamooli bursts out of the water, falling on the floor, close to panic mode. MAMOOLI Where's Chin? TRILLIAN Gone... MAMOOLI This is not real! This is not bloody real! Finnegan TOPPLES a large, heavy metal BROILER onto the open floor gate, sealing the watery hole in the floor. There are two hatches in this room. The far hatch is closed. Mamooli stands next to an OPEN HATCH. Canton points to it. CANTON Through there...another sixty, seventy yards...there are more elevators there. PANTUCCI I ain't goin' up no more elevators. CANTON There's stairways... Mamooli SLAMS the HATCH SHUT. Eyes bugging out of his head. MAMOOLI I say we stay right here! PANTUCCI Are you crazy? MAMOOLI (desperate) There's plenty of food here. We can hold out...someone'll rescue us... FINNEGAN Who? MAMOOLI Someone...maybe they sent an SOS! PANTUCCI On what? This son of a bitch (to Canton) zapped the communications. HANOVER Mamooli stand down! MAMOOLI We don't even know if his boat is still there...you saw Billy! FINNEGAN Boat or no boat...I'm going... Finnegan steps forward. Mamooli aims his rifle right at Finnegan's head. MAMOOLI They're wipin' us out one at a time. I say we make a stand. Right here! Right now! Maximum firepower! PANTUCCI Somebody shoot this jerk! FINNEGAN (calm) Nobody's shooting nobody...come on, just let us through the hatch! MAMOOLI I'll kill you!! I'll fucking kill you!! I'll do it! I'll do it! I'm not playin' around here! Finnegan freezes. CLOSE ON: The hatch. As a BLACK LIQUID starts to OOZE through a tiny latch-hole. No one sees it. FINNEGAN I once saw a guy put a fish in a bottle, then he corked it, sealing it tight, and threw it to a baby octopus. The little sucker felt its way around that bottle, and in less than two minutes, got that cork off, slid inside, and ate that fish. MAMOOLI What the hell are you talking about? FINNEGAN Us...I'm talking about us... We're the fish. The LIQUID SHADOW OOZES down and hits the floor, starts to EXPAND, filling like a water balloon. It's not a liquid. It's a Tentacle. VEINS, FEELERS and SUCKERS begin to form. MAMOOLI And what? These things are octopuses FINNEGAN I don't know what these things are ...all I know is... The TENTACLE slowly RISES UP right behind Mamooli. Inches behind his head. Finnegan and Hanover see it. Eyes widening. MAMOOLI What...? What?? Mamooli turns to the tentacle looming over him, about to strike. MAMOOLI (CONT'D) EEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH!!!! He opens fire, emptying his clip into the tentacle. The tentacle retreats into the pipes. Mamooli looks around. The room is empty. He runs out. CUT TO: 101 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 101 Mamooli rushes into the empty passageway, looks left. Then right. His POV. Down the hall another TENTACLE comes racing at him. Mamooli panics, drops his rifle. TRACK WITH Mamooli racing down the hallway, looking over his shoulder in fear, as the tentacle comes racing after him...gaining...gaining... almost on him... Mamooli leaps through an open hatch, and swings it shut in one swift motion. The tentacle slams into the glass portal. Stopped. Mamooli keeps his eye on the portal, and backs up two steps. He lets out a long deep breath of relief, turns... WHAM!!! Another tentacle envelops his face! MAMOOLI EEEYYYAAAHHHH!!!!! CUT TO: 102 MECHANICAL CHAMBER - NIGHT 102 Dante's Inferno: STEAM, SMOKE, FIRE, STRANGE NOISES, DARK AREAS, and lots of MOVING ENGINE PARTS. Finnegan leads, followed by Trillian, Hanover, Pantucci, and Canton. We can HEAR their HEARTS BEATING. Scary shit. Finnegan heads for a open HATCH. It suddenly SLAMS SHUT. He instantly VEERS down another passageway. PANTUCCI What the hell is going on!! Finnegan heads for another open HATCHWAY. It also SLAMS SHUT. FINNEGAN They're herding us. Finnegan and company keep going. HANOVER What are you talking about? As they round a corner, the CEILING IMPLODES right in front of them. PIPES and OTHER MATTER CRASH down. Cutting them off. Leaving only one route open...a slim passageway. FINNEGAN Like cattle... TRILLIAN You're saying they can think? FINNEGAN I'm saying they're calling the shots... Finnegan heads toward the passageway. CANTON Do we have to go there? The ceiling left above them begins to torque, and splits. The answer is plain. Everyone runs into the passage just as the ceiling comes down. CUT TO: 103 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 103 Finnegan leads them single-file, they quickly head into a SHAKING narrow void. Fear has led to silence, and unbearable tension. The walls on either side creak, and moan with strange noises. CUT TO: 104 MID-HULL - NIGHT 104 Finnegan quickly comes out of the CREAKING, MOANING GANGWAY, followed by the others. All the STRANGE NOISES suddenly STOP. Everything gets quiet. Finnegan freezes. Something's wrong. Everybody looks around. STEAM SHOOTS OUT from multiple pipes. The air is thick with MIST. TRILLIAN What's the matter? FINNEGAN The quiet... HANOVER Maybe we lost them. FINNEGAN Or maybe we're exactly where they want us to be. Finnegan moves on. The others follow. Guns out front. TENSE. They round a huge metal pillar and come face-to-face with a soul-wrenching nightmare. The CREATURES' NEST -- OR STOMACH. Across a small portion of the ship's midsection, is a huge GELATINOUS WOMB. Imagine a massive thick wall of clear-yellow JELL-O, with hundreds of BLUE VEINS running through it. If it weren't all so horrific, it would be considered beautiful. Inside the womb, A DOZEN HUMANS, passengers, float around in some kind of twisted embryonic state, the living dead. They all seem to be breathing the gelatin. Several TENTACLES WRIGGLE through the stuff; which divides and re forms in some sort of strange mitosis. Finnegan and the others look at the passengers, horrified. But even more horrifying is that the people can look back at them. Many start to reach out, seemingly in slow motion as their hands ooze through the thick gelatin. Trillian looks sick, trembles in fear. TRILLIAN What is it? FINNEGAN A meat locker. TRILLIAN We can't just leave them here. Canton looks like he's about to throw up, he starts backing away, heading for a side hatch. CANTON I can. In the womb, a Tentacle suddenly approaches a sexy young LADY. The Lady tries to back-pedal away, but because of the gelatin, it's like one of those nightmares where you can only move in slow motion. The FEELERS GRIP her naked thigh. She tries to scream, but her face is already starting to constrict, her whole body is being paralyzed. Pantucci is so horrified he's about to cry. PANTUCCI Oh no...oh God please no. The TENTACLE-SAC gloms onto the Lady's forehead. THROUGH THE SAC we can SEE her SKIN MELTING. The only thing she can move are her EYES, which are bugging-out in absolute horror as she is imbibed alive. Our heroes are frozen in fear. Until the Lady's EYES LIQUEFY. Trillian burries her head in Finnegan's shoulder, trying to shut out the horror. FINNEGAN We can't do anything for them... Let's go... He begins to lead her toward the hatch...when her eyes recognized the old lady with the orchid in her hair. The old lady seems to see her too. Her hands read out, IMPLORING. Her mouth silently shapes the words: HELP ME! Just as a tentacle comes creeping toward her. TRILLIAN NOOO!! Her rage rises. She hefts her rifle, and starts blasting away. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) You won't get her!! You won't!! Spitting FLAMES and SMOKE. The BULLETS IMPACT the gelatin. BLASTING IT AWAY. But the bullets only manage to go about twenty feet into the thick shit before gliding to a stop. GELATIN EXPLODES all over the place. TRACER HOLES STREAK through the stuff. But all the bullets are sliding short. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) Finnegan...do something!! Please!! Finnegan looks around and spots the place in the ceiling where most of the Tentacles are coming from. Their long TAILS WIGGLE down from a massive clutter of pipes. A bas-relief of horror. Finnegan reaches over and yanks two thermite grenades off Hanover's utility belt. HANOVER Finnegan, No!!! ...bites the pins and spits them out. FINNEGAN Eat this. He chucks the grenades up into the strange WRITHING FRESCO, safely clear of the passengers. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) FIRE IN THE HOLE! Pantucci and Hanover throw themselves to the floor. Finnegan pulls Trillian down, covering her. BA-WOOM! GELATIN SPRAYS EVERYWHERE. CUT TO: 105 FUJI MARU - SAME TIME 105 A loud, creepy, suction-like SOUND is HEARD, that strange pitter- patter of little feet running across the hull. Then the HULL begins to MOAN and CREAK from an UNSEEN PRESSURE. CUT TO: 106 MID HULL - NIGHT 106 All the MOVEMENT STOPS. The remaining TENTACLES VANISH into the machinery. Pantucci, and Hanover look up from the floor, covered in slime. Finnegan and Trillian also look up...and then look at each other face to face...inches apart. Dripping with slime. FINNEGAN Looking good... TRILLIAN You should talk... Then the machinery shuts down. The engines go dead. ALL SOUND CUTS OUT. An expectant hush. Somewhere, WATER DRIPS... WE GO EXTREMELY CLOSE ON Trillian's EYES. Pantucci's EYES. Hanover's EYES. Finnegan's EYES. The air is riddled with ominous expectation. And that's when the HULL BEGINS TO TORQUE. RIVETS POP and SNAP. WATER SPRAYS. METAL BUCKLES. 107 SHOT: 107 At the far end of the ship, part of the LOWER BOW RIPS OPEN! AND A WALL OF WATER RUSHES IN. FLOOD CITY! Finnegan's eyes widen as he sees (MODEL SHOT) the massive WAVE OF WATER CRASHING TOWARDS THEM. RIPPING OUT PIPES, DUCTS, WALLS, EQUIPMENT and EVERYTHING in front of it. FINNEGAN GO! GO! GO! They all hightail it for hatches. Finnegan and Trillian make it into one hatch. Hanover and Pantucci make it into another. WATER CRASHES and SPRAYS behind them. CUT TO: 108 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 108 Massive AIR BUBBLES EXPLODE out from under the bow. CUT TO: 109 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 109 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH up and down every passageway. And a CLAXTON RINGS, in accelerating tones, giving a frenetic urgency to ALL OF THE FOLLOWING SCENES: 110 A PASSAGEWAY: 110 WATER BLASTS through a hatch and CHASES Finnegan and Trillian down a passageway. They jag left at an intersection -- WATER BLASTS through the hatch directly in front of them. FINNEGAN We're going to sink! We've got to get on deck! They backtrack. Trillian's now in the lead. They HAUL ASS down a hallway. WATER ROARING IN from everywhere behind them. All of the watertight HATCHES begin to hydraulically CLOSE. Trillian and Finnegan JAG into a hatch. It's a small room. The hatch in front of them closes. WATER BLASTS in behind them. SWEEPS them off their feet. The ROOM quickly starts to FILL UP. Trillian pulls frantically at the hatch. CUT TO: 111 NARROW PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 111 Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through knee-high water. Pantucci stumbles into the water, frantically scrambles up. He looks back -- UNDER THE WATER, INKY FORMS hurl themselves down the passageway right towards him. Pantucci YELPS, and splashes away. CUT TO: 112 SUBMERGING ROOM - NIGHT 112 Trillian and Finnegan pull with all their might on a tiny portal. Finnegan tries to insert the blade of his knife in the crack. TRILLIAN So how do you get from the Bronx to the South China sea? FINNEGAN You quit high school, lie about your age, join the navy, and next thing you know, four years are up and you need a way to make a living... The knife blade slips into the crack. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) I'll break the seal! Pull. He yanks the blade. Trillian pulls. The seal pops. The portal flies open. Waist-high in water, Trillian sticks her arm out, tries to get her shoulder out, but there's no chance in hell of that. TRILLIAN Too small! She pulls her arm out. And a TENTACLE LUNGES IN. Just missing Trillian. It SPLASHES under the water. GRABS Finnegan's ankle. Pulls him under. FINNEGAN sticks the barrel of his gun underwater and OPENS FIRE. WATER EXPLODES. The Tentacle recoils. And rips itself back out the porthole. Trillian SLAMS the PORTHOLE SHUT and dogs it tight. The WATER QUICKLY RISES. CUT TO: 113 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 113 Pantucci and Hanover hauling ass. Hanover pulls out his last two Thermite grenades. Pantucci panics and grabs for them. PANTUCCI Gimme one! Gimme one! He knocks both of them out of Hanover's hands. They DISAPPEAR under the water. HANOVER You idiot! They quickly fumble around in the water, trying to find them. A TENTACLE BLASTS around the corner. Partially obscured by the wave in front of it. Heading right for them. Hanover finds the two grenades. Gives one to Pantucci. They rip the pins out and toss the grenades behind them. Then HAUL ASS faster. The Tentacle right behind them. A BEAT. And then the GRENADES EXPLODE, BA-WOOM! BA-WOOM! CUT TO: 114 FUJI MARY - NIGHT 114 The storm hammers the deck. Canton staggers out onto the RAIN SLICKED DECK just in time to see -- A HOLE BEING BLOWN OUT the side of the Fuji Maru's HULL. BUBBLES continue to EXPLODE OUT from under the bow. CANTON Oh my God, it's going to sink. Then slowly, Canton gets a gleam in his eye, now thrilled. CANTON (CONT'D) It's going to sink. CUT TO: 115 SUBMERGED ROOM - NIGHT 115 Finnegan and Trillian are getting banged around the frothy WATER as it quickly RISES. Now only inches from the ceiling. Trapped. They're about to drown. Finnegan keeps looking around, trying to figure a way out. TRILLIAN I was so goddamn close, Finnegan! So goddamn close to my island... I could almost taste the sand... FINNEGAN Keep tasting... Finnegan shoves the pulse rifle to the ceiling. And blasts away until part of the ceiling falls out and into the water. There's just enough room between two metal beams to get out. The rising WATER SHOVES them up through the hole. CUT TO: 116 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 116 Side-by-side, Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through waist-high water. They round a corner and look back -- INKY FORMS SLOSH around the corner. Heading right for them. They slog faster. PANTUCCI They're catchin' up! They're catchin' up! We gotta slow 'em down! HANOVER Feed them. That'll slow them down. A black STRIATED MUSCLE ROILS out of the foamy water, then quickly VANISHES under it, heading straight for them. PANTUCCI Feed 'em?!! Okay! All right! Feed 'em what? WHAT ARE WE GONNA FEED 'EM?! Hanover takes his pistol and SHOOTS Pantucci in the leg, BLAM! Pantucci SCREAMS. FALLS into the water. Hanover RUNS on. Pantucci doesn't even have time to deal with the pain. He starts SCRAMBLING through the water. UNDERWATER, the INKY FORMS RACE AFTER HIM. Only meters away. Pantucci throws himself into the opening of a dumbwaiter. SLAMS the DOOR SHUT. The TENTACLE ATTACKS the door. WORMING its way across the surface, trying to find a way inside. Pantucci is scared beyond his pain. Pushing back as far as he can against the rear wall, he sees the control button. He presses the up arrow. The dumbwaiter starts to move. CUT TO: 117 FUJI MARU REAR DECK - DAY 117 The Saipan is still bobbing behind the Fuji Maru. But the HARPOON HOOK, which holds the tow-line and is embedded into the rear deck of the ship, is starting to PRY LOOSE. It JERKS and BUCKS against the metal wall. Canton doesn't notice this as he slips and slides his way up to the railing. He sees the Saipan and smiles. Then he looks off at -- 118 ISLAND 118 rising out of the ocean. About a mile away. Canton starts to climb over the railing. And that's when the HARPOON HOOK RIPS FREE. WHIZZES FORWARD. And IMPALES Canton's LEG. He SCREAMS. Tries to spin free. The hook hangs onto his leg for a long, agonizing BEAT as Canton continues to SCREAM. Then the HOOK RIPS FREE, grabs the METAL RAILING and starts TEARING IT off the deck. Canton drops to the deck, holding his leg and whimpering in pain. And then he sees it -- 119 SPEEDBOAT 119 dangling from its harness down on the watersports platform. 120 TO SCENE 120 Canton starts to crawl for it. Moaning and bleeding. CUT TO: 121 CRYSTAL POOL DECK - NIGHT 121 Finnegan and Trillian race up onto the pool deck. Passing beneath a colorful NEON SIGN which READS: "THE FUJI MARU - YOUR FUN SHIP" In the dark, Trillian trips. She falls to the slippery, waterlogged deck, and SCREAMS... TRILLIAN EEEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH! ...clawing at her face... Finnegan pulls her hands from her face...and the thing that attached itself there...a small squid from the shattered aquarium. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) (freaked) Ah...ah...ah... Tries to catch her breath. FINNEGAN It's OK...it's not one of them... it's from the aquarium...it's... And then it dawns on Finnegan. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's not them...it's it... TRILLIAN What? FINNEGAN You know what kind of force it took to rip open the bow of this ship? A million little things like this... He holds up the squid. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...can't exert that kind of pressure... And the way it tracked us? A million little things don't carry portable phones to coordinate positions... What's chasing us... it's one...thing...one giant... thing. SMASH CUT TO: 122 ARIAL POV - MATTE FX SHOT - NIGHT 122 ...looking down on the Fuji Maru from high up in the air. Beneath the ENTIRE SHIP is an enormous, undulating BLACK SHADOW. A massive monster from the deep. CUT TO: 123 CASINO - NIGHT 123 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH. The CLAXTON RINGS. Off to one side of a wall, behind the bar, the dumbwaiter door opens, and Pantucci tumbles out, looks around, and then hears... HANOVER (V.O.) Help!! Help!! Pantucci limps around the bar, down a row of one armed bandits... rounds a corner, comes face-to-face with Hanover. Hanover's eyes are filled with terror and despair. His face is badly constricted. His body paralyzed. He clings to a black-jack table as a Tentacle-Sac drinks its way up his leg. It's already to his hip. He grasps desperately for his pistol, just beyond his reach on the floor. This guy ain't gonna survive. PANTUCCI YELPS and quickly back away, eyes wide, totally tense. He looks around, sees that there's only one Tentacle, and it's completely occupied with devouring Hanover. Pantucci is wigged, but manages to lock eyes with Hanover. Then he looks at the Sac, filled with regurgitated flesh. PANTUCCI ...even you don't deserve this. Pantucci picks up Hanover's pistol. Then slowly, cautiously, he creeps forward, and sticks the gun into Hanover's TWITCHING HAND. PANTUCCI (CONT'D) I'm sorry man... He turns and quickly limps off. Hanover's EYES look down at the gun in his hand. Then, with all the strength he has left, he slowly, painfully, turns the pistol so it points at his head. CLOSE ON: Hanover's trembling FINGER. As it slowly squeezes the trigger. He want to kill himself. Needs to hill himself. He squeezes harder. The TRIGGER DEPRESSES! -- CLICK! The gun is empty. Hanover's mouth opens in a horrible, silent scream. CUT TO: 124 REAR DECK - SAME TIME 124 Finnegan and Trillian race out onto the rear deck just as the HARPOON HOOK finishes TEARING the railing off the ship. The HOOK, the TOW- LINE, and the ENTIRE RAILING DROP over the side and fall OUT OF SIGHT. The TWO BOATS are now UNCOUPLED. Finnegan reels at the rain soaked sky. FINNEGAN Will somebody give me a break here? And that's when Finnegan and Trillian hear the SOUND of a HYDRAULIC HOIST. They look over -- 125 AT THE WATERSPORTS PLATFORM: 125 The speedboat is being hydraulically lowered into the water. Canton sits inside, fiddling with the ignition. ANGLE ON: Trillian and Finnegan racing down the spiral stairs leading to the watersports platform. TRILLIAN Wait! Stop! The boat touches down into the water. CANTON I'd like to but I have an appointment with my insurance broker! He HITS the HOIST-RELEASE BUTTON. The speedboat breaks free. Canton HITS the IGNITION. The boat's ENGINE ROARS. CANTON (CONT'D) Life takes the damndest turns, doesn't it? He red-lines the THROTTLE. The SPEEDBOAT HAULS ASS away from the cruiseliner. Canton steers for the island. Smiling. ANGLE ON: Trillian IN HER RAGE... TRILLIAN You son of a bitch!! She grabs Finnegan's pulse rifle, hefts it to her shoulder... FINNEGAN Look! He forces her to look in the distance. Their POV. The island. TRILLIAN Oh my god! Oh my god! How do we do it? How do we get there? FINNEGAN Not like him. Finnegan points to the water...and an INKY PSEUDOPOD FORM racing after the speedboat underwater. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's the engine...it can hear the engine...it goes for the loudest sound... The Tentacle quickly picks up speed, going faster and faster, getting closer and closer, stretching further and further. Suddenly, behind them, a METALLIC THRASHING SOUND is HEARD. They turn around and look -- The hook, the tow-line, and the entire railing have dropped down onto the watersports platform and are tangled up around the two jet skis, trying to tear free -- The Saipan is still clinging by its fingernails to the Fuji Maru! Finnegan races over to a WINCH and grabs the winch- line. CUT TO: 126 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 126 Canton, smiling brightly, peers at the approaching island through the speedboat's windscreen. So relieved he sings to himself, from the operetta H.M.S. PINAFORE. CANTON Oh we sail the ocean blue, and our mighty ship's a beauty. We are strong men, yes it's true, and responsive to our duty... When...YANK!!...the SPEEDBOAT is GRABBED from below, practically exploding as it DISINTEGRATES into TWO PIECES. Canton is PROPELLED through the windscreen and onto the hood. CUT TO: 127 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 127 Finnegan struggles to clip the winch-line onto the tow-line, hanging precariously over the edge of the ship, clip in one hand, winch-line in the other. The whole METAL MESS is BUCKING and TWISTING and SCREECHING. His every joint is being ripped out of socket as he strains to get the clip on the line before the entire rig tears away into the sea. With one last heroic effort of will and grit, he snaps the clip in place just as it all BREAKS LOOSE. One of the JET SKIS and the ENTIRE RAILING are RIPPED over the side and fall down into the ocean. Finnegan is also YANKED over the side, but he manages to hold on by his fingers, dangling precariously. FINNEGAN Hit it! Hit it! The HOOK and the TOW-LINE drop -- then SNAP TAUGHT as the winch-line holds them tight. Trillian throws the start lever on the winch. The WINCH KICKS ON and starts reeling in the Saipan. Finnegan tries to crawl up on the deck, exhausted. Trillian reaches down and pulls him the rest of the way up. He half collapses on top of her. TRILLIAN You know, Finnegan, I'm starting to believe what you said about you not being born to die on a luxury liner. Despite the grimness of their position, the closeness of their bodies is...a turn on...to both of them...and then a SCREAM from the sea. They look in the direction of... CUT TO: 128 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 128 Canton is pinned to the hood of the speedboat, his face shredded by glass, his leg mangled, screaming as his panicked eyes watch a TENTACLE slowly squirm across the hood toward him, it's hideous feelers writhe and arch. Canton backs away from it as far as he can. Another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up next to him. Canton crawls away from that one. Its Feelers and Suckers unsheathe, dripping mucus. Canton's eyes widen, horrified. Then another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up. Canton crawls to the center of the hood. And another TENTACLE. Canton has nowhere to go. The Tentacles close in on him. CANTON No! No! No! All the tentacles rise over him, about to descend. CANTON (CONT'D) NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! CUT TO: 129 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 129 Finnegan and Trillian race for all they are worth, clamber over the side of the Fuji Maru, dropping to the deck of the Saipan. CUT TO: 130 SAIPAN - NIGHT 130 Finnegan and Trillian slowly clamber through the hold, waist deep in water, on edge, eyes wide, watching for any sign of trouble. It's quiet in here. Maybe too quiet. TRILLIAN (quietly) Finnegan... FINNEGAN Yeah... TRILLIAN ...the minute you start your engines ...it's going to kill us, isn't it? They step up to one of the big CRATES. Finnegan starts SMASHING it with the butt of his pulse-rifle. The CRATE BURST OPEN. REVEALING the WARHEAD of the torpedo. Trillian is stunned. FINNEGAN Not unless we kill it first. Finnegan SMASHES more of the CRATE, it falls apart, REVEALING the entire torpedo. He hands her his pulse rifle. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) Anything moves, you shoot. Finnegan starts to yank open the top plates of the missile head. Trillian looks around nervously. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) There's not much horsepower left in the engines, but there's enough noise...once this baby's set...I'll rev it up...that slimy bastard will come for it like candy... TRILLIAN If you blow up your boat, how are we going to get to the island? FINNEGAN Jet ski...there's one left up there. The plate comes loose. Revealing a gaggle of wires, and parts. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...let's see, it was red wire cross compressor blue wire...or blue cross red? He starts to fiddle with the wires. -- Suddenly, there's a LOUD SLOSHING SOUND right behind them! CRATES TOPPLE! More pulse rifles spill out. Trillian spins, ready to blast away with the pulse rifle, to... PANTUCCI Don't shoot!! Don't shoot!! FINNEGAN Just the man I wanted to see. On this puppy here, you remember if it's red to blue or blue to red... He refers to the wires. PANTUCCI Not even a Joey, I'm glad to see you? Joey, what happened to your leg? FINNEGAN Joey, you want to get sucked out by a giant fucking mutated squid? PANTUCCI (fast) Red cross over to blue double blue ...is that what it is? A squid? FINNEGAN Squid...squid like...squid type... it's got tentacles, a feed sac... probably one central nervous processor somewhere...what the hell do I know is going on deep down in the ocean...there's all sorts of shit we've never seen...eighty foot clams...60 foot sharks...I'm just guessing...can you get me more juice out of Hercules...fast? PANTUCCI For juice, I gotta rebuild. That's not fast. TRILLIAN How about noise? Can you get noise? We don't need speed, just noise, right? FINNEGAN Right... PANTUCCI Can somebody tell me what the object of the exercise is here? FINNEGAN Seafood salad. (to Trillian) You ever operate a jet ski? TRILLIAN (nervous) You want ME to go up there? FINNEGAN Not unless you can wire a missile or fix an engine. TRILLIAN And what if I run into one of those things? Finnegan tosses her a pulse rifle from the overturned crate. FINNEGAN Don't forget the safety. She hits the safety, slams a shell into chamber... TRILLIAN Don't take too long...I'm not planning on being on the menu tonight. ...and exits. PANTUCCI (razzing) I've never seen you so congenial with a member of the opposite sex... The two of you got a nice patter going...got a nice rapport... FINNEGAN And you got 10 minutes before this thing livens up a boring evening. Finnegan attaches a wire to a sprocket. A red light starts to blink on the warhead. CUT TO: 131 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 131 It is VERY DARK. The RAIN is getting worse. THUNDER RUMBLES. LIGHTNING FLASHES. The FUJI MARU MOANS and CREAKS. BUBBLES EXPLODE from beneath it. The Saipan rocks against her hull. Trillian clambers along the TILTING RAILING, heading for the watersports platform. Her gorgeous eyes shift nervously. TRILLIAN I'm going to be OK...I'm going to be OK... The ship's METAL HULL SCREECHES. The SEAWATER BUBBLES and GURGLES. From somewhere deep inside the ship, we HEAR that loud primordial YOWL again. Trillian freezes, her heart double beats. She looks around, really scared. CUT TO: 132 SAIPAN'S HOLD - NIGHT 132 The missile is on a hoist being pushed forward by Pantucci and Finnegan toward a GAPING HOLE in the PORT BOW. PANTUCCI You know what I think? I think our luck has just about run shit out... FINNEGAN A little to the left... PANTUCCI I think we gotta stop floating from one fucked up situation to the next... FINNEGAN Line it up now, nice and easy... The missile head is right in line with the hole in the bow. PANTUCCI I'm telling you, man, we got to give the future some serious thought. FINNEGAN I have been. PANTUCCI And what have you come up with? FINNEGAN How does an island sound to you? Pantucci looks at Finnegan quizically. This is news to him. CUT TO: 133 SAIPAN - NIGHT 133 The TIP of the WARHEAD creeps out through the hole. The body of the missile is just a hair too wide, which is good, because it jams itself nice and tight into the hole. CUT TO: 134 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 134 Trillian takes the tarp off the remaining jet ski. Pushes the swivel arm that holds it out over the railing. The PLATFORM TILTS! Trillian loses her balance. Almost goes over the

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FIRE and BUBBLES. Trillian looks around. Scared shitless. The bubbles clear just in time for her to see -- Chin, mouth open, eyes wide, screaming in agony, being ripped past her. She tries to fire her rifle. Too late. Trillian watches as Chin VANISHES down the shaft in a CLOUD OF BUBBLES. CUT TO: 100 KITCHEN - NIGHT 100 TRILLIAN BURSTS to the surface. FINNEGAN YANKS her up and out of the water. FINNEGAN You O.K.? Trillian can only nod, and gasp for breath. Canton and Hanover catch their breath, PANTING AWAY, waterlogged. Hanover reaches over to retrieve the rifle in Trillian's hand. Trillian points the barrel at him, and hits the safety. TRILLIAN (grim) Finders keepers. Mamooli bursts out of the water, falling on the floor, close to panic mode. MAMOOLI Where's Chin? TRILLIAN Gone... MAMOOLI This is not real! This is not bloody real! Finnegan TOPPLES a large, heavy metal BROILER onto the open floor gate, sealing the watery hole in the floor. There are two hatches in this room. The far hatch is closed. Mamooli stands next to an OPEN HATCH. Canton points to it. CANTON Through there...another sixty, seventy yards...there are more elevators there. PANTUCCI I ain't goin' up no more elevators. CANTON There's stairways... Mamooli SLAMS the HATCH SHUT. Eyes bugging out of his head. MAMOOLI I say we stay right here! PANTUCCI Are you crazy? MAMOOLI (desperate) There's plenty of food here. We can hold out...someone'll rescue us... FINNEGAN Who? MAMOOLI Someone...maybe they sent an SOS! PANTUCCI On what? This son of a bitch (to Canton) zapped the communications. HANOVER Mamooli stand down! MAMOOLI We don't even know if his boat is still there...you saw Billy! FINNEGAN Boat or no boat...I'm going... Finnegan steps forward. Mamooli aims his rifle right at Finnegan's head. MAMOOLI They're wipin' us out one at a time. I say we make a stand. Right here! Right now! Maximum firepower! PANTUCCI Somebody shoot this jerk! FINNEGAN (calm) Nobody's shooting nobody...come on, just let us through the hatch! MAMOOLI I'll kill you!! I'll fucking kill you!! I'll do it! I'll do it! I'm not playin' around here! Finnegan freezes. CLOSE ON: The hatch. As a BLACK LIQUID starts to OOZE through a tiny latch-hole. No one sees it. FINNEGAN I once saw a guy put a fish in a bottle, then he corked it, sealing it tight, and threw it to a baby octopus. The little sucker felt its way around that bottle, and in less than two minutes, got that cork off, slid inside, and ate that fish. MAMOOLI What the hell are you talking about? FINNEGAN Us...I'm talking about us... We're the fish. The LIQUID SHADOW OOZES down and hits the floor, starts to EXPAND, filling like a water balloon. It's not a liquid. It's a Tentacle. VEINS, FEELERS and SUCKERS begin to form. MAMOOLI And what? These things are octopuses FINNEGAN I don't know what these things are ...all I know is... The TENTACLE slowly RISES UP right behind Mamooli. Inches behind his head. Finnegan and Hanover see it. Eyes widening. MAMOOLI What...? What?? Mamooli turns to the tentacle looming over him, about to strike. MAMOOLI (CONT'D) EEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH!!!! He opens fire, emptying his clip into the tentacle. The tentacle retreats into the pipes. Mamooli looks around. The room is empty. He runs out. CUT TO: 101 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 101 Mamooli rushes into the empty passageway, looks left. Then right. His POV. Down the hall another TENTACLE comes racing at him. Mamooli panics, drops his rifle. TRACK WITH Mamooli racing down the hallway, looking over his shoulder in fear, as the tentacle comes racing after him...gaining...gaining... almost on him... Mamooli leaps through an open hatch, and swings it shut in one swift motion. The tentacle slams into the glass portal. Stopped. Mamooli keeps his eye on the portal, and backs up two steps. He lets out a long deep breath of relief, turns... WHAM!!! Another tentacle envelops his face! MAMOOLI EEEYYYAAAHHHH!!!!! CUT TO: 102 MECHANICAL CHAMBER - NIGHT 102 Dante's Inferno: STEAM, SMOKE, FIRE, STRANGE NOISES, DARK AREAS, and lots of MOVING ENGINE PARTS. Finnegan leads, followed by Trillian, Hanover, Pantucci, and Canton. We can HEAR their HEARTS BEATING. Scary shit. Finnegan heads for a open HATCH. It suddenly SLAMS SHUT. He instantly VEERS down another passageway. PANTUCCI What the hell is going on!! Finnegan heads for another open HATCHWAY. It also SLAMS SHUT. FINNEGAN They're herding us. Finnegan and company keep going. HANOVER What are you talking about? As they round a corner, the CEILING IMPLODES right in front of them. PIPES and OTHER MATTER CRASH down. Cutting them off. Leaving only one route open...a slim passageway. FINNEGAN Like cattle... TRILLIAN You're saying they can think? FINNEGAN I'm saying they're calling the shots... Finnegan heads toward the passageway. CANTON Do we have to go there? The ceiling left above them begins to torque, and splits. The answer is plain. Everyone runs into the passage just as the ceiling comes down. CUT TO: 103 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 103 Finnegan leads them single-file, they quickly head into a SHAKING narrow void. Fear has led to silence, and unbearable tension. The walls on either side creak, and moan with strange noises. CUT TO: 104 MID-HULL - NIGHT 104 Finnegan quickly comes out of the CREAKING, MOANING GANGWAY, followed by the others. All the STRANGE NOISES suddenly STOP. Everything gets quiet. Finnegan freezes. Something's wrong. Everybody looks around. STEAM SHOOTS OUT from multiple pipes. The air is thick with MIST. TRILLIAN What's the matter? FINNEGAN The quiet... HANOVER Maybe we lost them. FINNEGAN Or maybe we're exactly where they want us to be. Finnegan moves on. The others follow. Guns out front. TENSE. They round a huge metal pillar and come face-to-face with a soul-wrenching nightmare. The CREATURES' NEST -- OR STOMACH. Across a small portion of the ship's midsection, is a huge GELATINOUS WOMB. Imagine a massive thick wall of clear-yellow JELL-O, with hundreds of BLUE VEINS running through it. If it weren't all so horrific, it would be considered beautiful. Inside the womb, A DOZEN HUMANS, passengers, float around in some kind of twisted embryonic state, the living dead. They all seem to be breathing the gelatin. Several TENTACLES WRIGGLE through the stuff; which divides and re forms in some sort of strange mitosis. Finnegan and the others look at the passengers, horrified. But even more horrifying is that the people can look back at them. Many start to reach out, seemingly in slow motion as their hands ooze through the thick gelatin. Trillian looks sick, trembles in fear. TRILLIAN What is it? FINNEGAN A meat locker. TRILLIAN We can't just leave them here. Canton looks like he's about to throw up, he starts backing away, heading for a side hatch. CANTON I can. In the womb, a Tentacle suddenly approaches a sexy young LADY. The Lady tries to back-pedal away, but because of the gelatin, it's like one of those nightmares where you can only move in slow motion. The FEELERS GRIP her naked thigh. She tries to scream, but her face is already starting to constrict, her whole body is being paralyzed. Pantucci is so horrified he's about to cry. PANTUCCI Oh no...oh God please no. The TENTACLE-SAC gloms onto the Lady's forehead. THROUGH THE SAC we can SEE her SKIN MELTING. The only thing she can move are her EYES, which are bugging-out in absolute horror as she is imbibed alive. Our heroes are frozen in fear. Until the Lady's EYES LIQUEFY. Trillian burries her head in Finnegan's shoulder, trying to shut out the horror. FINNEGAN We can't do anything for them... Let's go... He begins to lead her toward the hatch...when her eyes recognized the old lady with the orchid in her hair. The old lady seems to see her too. Her hands read out, IMPLORING. Her mouth silently shapes the words: HELP ME! Just as a tentacle comes creeping toward her. TRILLIAN NOOO!! Her rage rises. She hefts her rifle, and starts blasting away. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) You won't get her!! You won't!! Spitting FLAMES and SMOKE. The BULLETS IMPACT the gelatin. BLASTING IT AWAY. But the bullets only manage to go about twenty feet into the thick shit before gliding to a stop. GELATIN EXPLODES all over the place. TRACER HOLES STREAK through the stuff. But all the bullets are sliding short. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) Finnegan...do something!! Please!! Finnegan looks around and spots the place in the ceiling where most of the Tentacles are coming from. Their long TAILS WIGGLE down from a massive clutter of pipes. A bas-relief of horror. Finnegan reaches over and yanks two thermite grenades off Hanover's utility belt. HANOVER Finnegan, No!!! ...bites the pins and spits them out. FINNEGAN Eat this. He chucks the grenades up into the strange WRITHING FRESCO, safely clear of the passengers. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) FIRE IN THE HOLE! Pantucci and Hanover throw themselves to the floor. Finnegan pulls Trillian down, covering her. BA-WOOM! GELATIN SPRAYS EVERYWHERE. CUT TO: 105 FUJI MARU - SAME TIME 105 A loud, creepy, suction-like SOUND is HEARD, that strange pitter- patter of little feet running across the hull. Then the HULL begins to MOAN and CREAK from an UNSEEN PRESSURE. CUT TO: 106 MID HULL - NIGHT 106 All the MOVEMENT STOPS. The remaining TENTACLES VANISH into the machinery. Pantucci, and Hanover look up from the floor, covered in slime. Finnegan and Trillian also look up...and then look at each other face to face...inches apart. Dripping with slime. FINNEGAN Looking good... TRILLIAN You should talk... Then the machinery shuts down. The engines go dead. ALL SOUND CUTS OUT. An expectant hush. Somewhere, WATER DRIPS... WE GO EXTREMELY CLOSE ON Trillian's EYES. Pantucci's EYES. Hanover's EYES. Finnegan's EYES. The air is riddled with ominous expectation. And that's when the HULL BEGINS TO TORQUE. RIVETS POP and SNAP. WATER SPRAYS. METAL BUCKLES. 107 SHOT: 107 At the far end of the ship, part of the LOWER BOW RIPS OPEN! AND A WALL OF WATER RUSHES IN. FLOOD CITY! Finnegan's eyes widen as he sees (MODEL SHOT) the massive WAVE OF WATER CRASHING TOWARDS THEM. RIPPING OUT PIPES, DUCTS, WALLS, EQUIPMENT and EVERYTHING in front of it. FINNEGAN GO! GO! GO! They all hightail it for hatches. Finnegan and Trillian make it into one hatch. Hanover and Pantucci make it into another. WATER CRASHES and SPRAYS behind them. CUT TO: 108 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 108 Massive AIR BUBBLES EXPLODE out from under the bow. CUT TO: 109 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 109 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH up and down every passageway. And a CLAXTON RINGS, in accelerating tones, giving a frenetic urgency to ALL OF THE FOLLOWING SCENES: 110 A PASSAGEWAY: 110 WATER BLASTS through a hatch and CHASES Finnegan and Trillian down a passageway. They jag left at an intersection -- WATER BLASTS through the hatch directly in front of them. FINNEGAN We're going to sink! We've got to get on deck! They backtrack. Trillian's now in the lead. They HAUL ASS down a hallway. WATER ROARING IN from everywhere behind them. All of the watertight HATCHES begin to hydraulically CLOSE. Trillian and Finnegan JAG into a hatch. It's a small room. The hatch in front of them closes. WATER BLASTS in behind them. SWEEPS them off their feet. The ROOM quickly starts to FILL UP. Trillian pulls frantically at the hatch. CUT TO: 111 NARROW PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 111 Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through knee-high water. Pantucci stumbles into the water, frantically scrambles up. He looks back -- UNDER THE WATER, INKY FORMS hurl themselves down the passageway right towards him. Pantucci YELPS, and splashes away. CUT TO: 112 SUBMERGING ROOM - NIGHT 112 Trillian and Finnegan pull with all their might on a tiny portal. Finnegan tries to insert the blade of his knife in the crack. TRILLIAN So how do you get from the Bronx to the South China sea? FINNEGAN You quit high school, lie about your age, join the navy, and next thing you know, four years are up and you need a way to make a living... The knife blade slips into the crack. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) I'll break the seal! Pull. He yanks the blade. Trillian pulls. The seal pops. The portal flies open. Waist-high in water, Trillian sticks her arm out, tries to get her shoulder out, but there's no chance in hell of that. TRILLIAN Too small! She pulls her arm out. And a TENTACLE LUNGES IN. Just missing Trillian. It SPLASHES under the water. GRABS Finnegan's ankle. Pulls him under. FINNEGAN sticks the barrel of his gun underwater and OPENS FIRE. WATER EXPLODES. The Tentacle recoils. And rips itself back out the porthole. Trillian SLAMS the PORTHOLE SHUT and dogs it tight. The WATER QUICKLY RISES. CUT TO: 113 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 113 Pantucci and Hanover hauling ass. Hanover pulls out his last two Thermite grenades. Pantucci panics and grabs for them. PANTUCCI Gimme one! Gimme one! He knocks both of them out of Hanover's hands. They DISAPPEAR under the water. HANOVER You idiot! They quickly fumble around in the water, trying to find them. A TENTACLE BLASTS around the corner. Partially obscured by the wave in front of it. Heading right for them. Hanover finds the two grenades. Gives one to Pantucci. They rip the pins out and toss the grenades behind them. Then HAUL ASS faster. The Tentacle right behind them. A BEAT. And then the GRENADES EXPLODE, BA-WOOM! BA-WOOM! CUT TO: 114 FUJI MARY - NIGHT 114 The storm hammers the deck. Canton staggers out onto the RAIN SLICKED DECK just in time to see -- A HOLE BEING BLOWN OUT the side of the Fuji Maru's HULL. BUBBLES continue to EXPLODE OUT from under the bow. CANTON Oh my God, it's going to sink. Then slowly, Canton gets a gleam in his eye, now thrilled. CANTON (CONT'D) It's going to sink. CUT TO: 115 SUBMERGED ROOM - NIGHT 115 Finnegan and Trillian are getting banged around the frothy WATER as it quickly RISES. Now only inches from the ceiling. Trapped. They're about to drown. Finnegan keeps looking around, trying to figure a way out. TRILLIAN I was so goddamn close, Finnegan! So goddamn close to my island... I could almost taste the sand... FINNEGAN Keep tasting... Finnegan shoves the pulse rifle to the ceiling. And blasts away until part of the ceiling falls out and into the water. There's just enough room between two metal beams to get out. The rising WATER SHOVES them up through the hole. CUT TO: 116 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 116 Side-by-side, Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through waist-high water. They round a corner and look back -- INKY FORMS SLOSH around the corner. Heading right for them. They slog faster. PANTUCCI They're catchin' up! They're catchin' up! We gotta slow 'em down! HANOVER Feed them. That'll slow them down. A black STRIATED MUSCLE ROILS out of the foamy water, then quickly VANISHES under it, heading straight for them. PANTUCCI Feed 'em?!! Okay! All right! Feed 'em what? WHAT ARE WE GONNA FEED 'EM?! Hanover takes his pistol and SHOOTS Pantucci in the leg, BLAM! Pantucci SCREAMS. FALLS into the water. Hanover RUNS on. Pantucci doesn't even have time to deal with the pain. He starts SCRAMBLING through the water. UNDERWATER, the INKY FORMS RACE AFTER HIM. Only meters away. Pantucci throws himself into the opening of a dumbwaiter. SLAMS the DOOR SHUT. The TENTACLE ATTACKS the door. WORMING its way across the surface, trying to find a way inside. Pantucci is scared beyond his pain. Pushing back as far as he can against the rear wall, he sees the control button. He presses the up arrow. The dumbwaiter starts to move. CUT TO: 117 FUJI MARU REAR DECK - DAY 117 The Saipan is still bobbing behind the Fuji Maru. But the HARPOON HOOK, which holds the tow-line and is embedded into the rear deck of the ship, is starting to PRY LOOSE. It JERKS and BUCKS against the metal wall. Canton doesn't notice this as he slips and slides his way up to the railing. He sees the Saipan and smiles. Then he looks off at -- 118 ISLAND 118 rising out of the ocean. About a mile away. Canton starts to climb over the railing. And that's when the HARPOON HOOK RIPS FREE. WHIZZES FORWARD. And IMPALES Canton's LEG. He SCREAMS. Tries to spin free. The hook hangs onto his leg for a long, agonizing BEAT as Canton continues to SCREAM. Then the HOOK RIPS FREE, grabs the METAL RAILING and starts TEARING IT off the deck. Canton drops to the deck, holding his leg and whimpering in pain. And then he sees it -- 119 SPEEDBOAT 119 dangling from its harness down on the watersports platform. 120 TO SCENE 120 Canton starts to crawl for it. Moaning and bleeding. CUT TO: 121 CRYSTAL POOL DECK - NIGHT 121 Finnegan and Trillian race up onto the pool deck. Passing beneath a colorful NEON SIGN which READS: "THE FUJI MARU - YOUR FUN SHIP" In the dark, Trillian trips. She falls to the slippery, waterlogged deck, and SCREAMS... TRILLIAN EEEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH! ...clawing at her face... Finnegan pulls her hands from her face...and the thing that attached itself there...a small squid from the shattered aquarium. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) (freaked) Ah...ah...ah... Tries to catch her breath. FINNEGAN It's OK...it's not one of them... it's from the aquarium...it's... And then it dawns on Finnegan. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's not them...it's it... TRILLIAN What? FINNEGAN You know what kind of force it took to rip open the bow of this ship? A million little things like this... He holds up the squid. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...can't exert that kind of pressure... And the way it tracked us? A million little things don't carry portable phones to coordinate positions... What's chasing us... it's one...thing...one giant... thing. SMASH CUT TO: 122 ARIAL POV - MATTE FX SHOT - NIGHT 122 ...looking down on the Fuji Maru from high up in the air. Beneath the ENTIRE SHIP is an enormous, undulating BLACK SHADOW. A massive monster from the deep. CUT TO: 123 CASINO - NIGHT 123 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH. The CLAXTON RINGS. Off to one side of a wall, behind the bar, the dumbwaiter door opens, and Pantucci tumbles out, looks around, and then hears... HANOVER (V.O.) Help!! Help!! Pantucci limps around the bar, down a row of one armed bandits... rounds a corner, comes face-to-face with Hanover. Hanover's eyes are filled with terror and despair. His face is badly constricted. His body paralyzed. He clings to a black-jack table as a Tentacle-Sac drinks its way up his leg. It's already to his hip. He grasps desperately for his pistol, just beyond his reach on the floor. This guy ain't gonna survive. PANTUCCI YELPS and quickly back away, eyes wide, totally tense. He looks around, sees that there's only one Tentacle, and it's completely occupied with devouring Hanover. Pantucci is wigged, but manages to lock eyes with Hanover. Then he looks at the Sac, filled with regurgitated flesh. PANTUCCI ...even you don't deserve this. Pantucci picks up Hanover's pistol. Then slowly, cautiously, he creeps forward, and sticks the gun into Hanover's TWITCHING HAND. PANTUCCI (CONT'D) I'm sorry man... He turns and quickly limps off. Hanover's EYES look down at the gun in his hand. Then, with all the strength he has left, he slowly, painfully, turns the pistol so it points at his head. CLOSE ON: Hanover's trembling FINGER. As it slowly squeezes the trigger. He want to kill himself. Needs to hill himself. He squeezes harder. The TRIGGER DEPRESSES! -- CLICK! The gun is empty. Hanover's mouth opens in a horrible, silent scream. CUT TO: 124 REAR DECK - SAME TIME 124 Finnegan and Trillian race out onto the rear deck just as the HARPOON HOOK finishes TEARING the railing off the ship. The HOOK, the TOW- LINE, and the ENTIRE RAILING DROP over the side and fall OUT OF SIGHT. The TWO BOATS are now UNCOUPLED. Finnegan reels at the rain soaked sky. FINNEGAN Will somebody give me a break here? And that's when Finnegan and Trillian hear the SOUND of a HYDRAULIC HOIST. They look over -- 125 AT THE WATERSPORTS PLATFORM: 125 The speedboat is being hydraulically lowered into the water. Canton sits inside, fiddling with the ignition. ANGLE ON: Trillian and Finnegan racing down the spiral stairs leading to the watersports platform. TRILLIAN Wait! Stop! The boat touches down into the water. CANTON I'd like to but I have an appointment with my insurance broker! He HITS the HOIST-RELEASE BUTTON. The speedboat breaks free. Canton HITS the IGNITION. The boat's ENGINE ROARS. CANTON (CONT'D) Life takes the damndest turns, doesn't it? He red-lines the THROTTLE. The SPEEDBOAT HAULS ASS away from the cruiseliner. Canton steers for the island. Smiling. ANGLE ON: Trillian IN HER RAGE... TRILLIAN You son of a bitch!! She grabs Finnegan's pulse rifle, hefts it to her shoulder... FINNEGAN Look! He forces her to look in the distance. Their POV. The island. TRILLIAN Oh my god! Oh my god! How do we do it? How do we get there? FINNEGAN Not like him. Finnegan points to the water...and an INKY PSEUDOPOD FORM racing after the speedboat underwater. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's the engine...it can hear the engine...it goes for the loudest sound... The Tentacle quickly picks up speed, going faster and faster, getting closer and closer, stretching further and further. Suddenly, behind them, a METALLIC THRASHING SOUND is HEARD. They turn around and look -- The hook, the tow-line, and the entire railing have dropped down onto the watersports platform and are tangled up around the two jet skis, trying to tear free -- The Saipan is still clinging by its fingernails to the Fuji Maru! Finnegan races over to a WINCH and grabs the winch- line. CUT TO: 126 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 126 Canton, smiling brightly, peers at the approaching island through the speedboat's windscreen. So relieved he sings to himself, from the operetta H.M.S. PINAFORE. CANTON Oh we sail the ocean blue, and our mighty ship's a beauty. We are strong men, yes it's true, and responsive to our duty... When...YANK!!...the SPEEDBOAT is GRABBED from below, practically exploding as it DISINTEGRATES into TWO PIECES. Canton is PROPELLED through the windscreen and onto the hood. CUT TO: 127 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 127 Finnegan struggles to clip the winch-line onto the tow-line, hanging precariously over the edge of the ship, clip in one hand, winch-line in the other. The whole METAL MESS is BUCKING and TWISTING and SCREECHING. His every joint is being ripped out of socket as he strains to get the clip on the line before the entire rig tears away into the sea. With one last heroic effort of will and grit, he snaps the clip in place just as it all BREAKS LOOSE. One of the JET SKIS and the ENTIRE RAILING are RIPPED over the side and fall down into the ocean. Finnegan is also YANKED over the side, but he manages to hold on by his fingers, dangling precariously. FINNEGAN Hit it! Hit it! The HOOK and the TOW-LINE drop -- then SNAP TAUGHT as the winch-line holds them tight. Trillian throws the start lever on the winch. The WINCH KICKS ON and starts reeling in the Saipan. Finnegan tries to crawl up on the deck, exhausted. Trillian reaches down and pulls him the rest of the way up. He half collapses on top of her. TRILLIAN You know, Finnegan, I'm starting to believe what you said about you not being born to die on a luxury liner. Despite the grimness of their position, the closeness of their bodies is...a turn on...to both of them...and then a SCREAM from the sea. They look in the direction of... CUT TO: 128 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 128 Canton is pinned to the hood of the speedboat, his face shredded by glass, his leg mangled, screaming as his panicked eyes watch a TENTACLE slowly squirm across the hood toward him, it's hideous feelers writhe and arch. Canton backs away from it as far as he can. Another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up next to him. Canton crawls away from that one. Its Feelers and Suckers unsheathe, dripping mucus. Canton's eyes widen, horrified. Then another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up. Canton crawls to the center of the hood. And another TENTACLE. Canton has nowhere to go. The Tentacles close in on him. CANTON No! No! No! All the tentacles rise over him, about to descend. CANTON (CONT'D) NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! CUT TO: 129 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 129 Finnegan and Trillian race for all they are worth, clamber over the side of the Fuji Maru, dropping to the deck of the Saipan. CUT TO: 130 SAIPAN - NIGHT 130 Finnegan and Trillian slowly clamber through the hold, waist deep in water, on edge, eyes wide, watching for any sign of trouble. It's quiet in here. Maybe too quiet. TRILLIAN (quietly) Finnegan... FINNEGAN Yeah... TRILLIAN ...the minute you start your engines ...it's going to kill us, isn't it? They step up to one of the big CRATES. Finnegan starts SMASHING it with the butt of his pulse-rifle. The CRATE BURST OPEN. REVEALING the WARHEAD of the torpedo. Trillian is stunned. FINNEGAN Not unless we kill it first. Finnegan SMASHES more of the CRATE, it falls apart, REVEALING the entire torpedo. He hands her his pulse rifle. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) Anything moves, you shoot. Finnegan starts to yank open the top plates of the missile head. Trillian looks around nervously. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) There's not much horsepower left in the engines, but there's enough noise...once this baby's set...I'll rev it up...that slimy bastard will come for it like candy... TRILLIAN If you blow up your boat, how are we going to get to the island? FINNEGAN Jet ski...there's one left up there. The plate comes loose. Revealing a gaggle of wires, and parts. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...let's see, it was red wire cross compressor blue wire...or blue cross red? He starts to fiddle with the wires. -- Suddenly, there's a LOUD SLOSHING SOUND right behind them! CRATES TOPPLE! More pulse rifles spill out. Trillian spins, ready to blast away with the pulse rifle, to... PANTUCCI Don't shoot!! Don't shoot!! FINNEGAN Just the man I wanted to see. On this puppy here, you remember if it's red to blue or blue to red... He refers to the wires. PANTUCCI Not even a Joey, I'm glad to see you? Joey, what happened to your leg? FINNEGAN Joey, you want to get sucked out by a giant fucking mutated squid? PANTUCCI (fast) Red cross over to blue double blue ...is that what it is? A squid? FINNEGAN Squid...squid like...squid type... it's got tentacles, a feed sac... probably one central nervous processor somewhere...what the hell do I know is going on deep down in the ocean...there's all sorts of shit we've never seen...eighty foot clams...60 foot sharks...I'm just guessing...can you get me more juice out of Hercules...fast? PANTUCCI For juice, I gotta rebuild. That's not fast. TRILLIAN How about noise? Can you get noise? We don't need speed, just noise, right? FINNEGAN Right... PANTUCCI Can somebody tell me what the object of the exercise is here? FINNEGAN Seafood salad. (to Trillian) You ever operate a jet ski? TRILLIAN (nervous) You want ME to go up there? FINNEGAN Not unless you can wire a missile or fix an engine. TRILLIAN And what if I run into one of those things? Finnegan tosses her a pulse rifle from the overturned crate. FINNEGAN Don't forget the safety. She hits the safety, slams a shell into chamber... TRILLIAN Don't take too long...I'm not planning on being on the menu tonight. ...and exits. PANTUCCI (razzing) I've never seen you so congenial with a member of the opposite sex... The two of you got a nice patter going...got a nice rapport... FINNEGAN And you got 10 minutes before this thing livens up a boring evening. Finnegan attaches a wire to a sprocket. A red light starts to blink on the warhead. CUT TO: 131 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 131 It is VERY DARK. The RAIN is getting worse. THUNDER RUMBLES. LIGHTNING FLASHES. The FUJI MARU MOANS and CREAKS. BUBBLES EXPLODE from beneath it. The Saipan rocks against her hull. Trillian clambers along the TILTING RAILING, heading for the watersports platform. Her gorgeous eyes shift nervously. TRILLIAN I'm going to be OK...I'm going to be OK... The ship's METAL HULL SCREECHES. The SEAWATER BUBBLES and GURGLES. From somewhere deep inside the ship, we HEAR that loud primordial YOWL again. Trillian freezes, her heart double beats. She looks around, really scared. CUT TO: 132 SAIPAN'S HOLD - NIGHT 132 The missile is on a hoist being pushed forward by Pantucci and Finnegan toward a GAPING HOLE in the PORT BOW. PANTUCCI You know what I think? I think our luck has just about run shit out... FINNEGAN A little to the left... PANTUCCI I think we gotta stop floating from one fucked up situation to the next... FINNEGAN Line it up now, nice and easy... The missile head is right in line with the hole in the bow. PANTUCCI I'm telling you, man, we got to give the future some serious thought. FINNEGAN I have been. PANTUCCI And what have you come up with? FINNEGAN How does an island sound to you? Pantucci looks at Finnegan quizically. This is news to him. CUT TO: 133 SAIPAN - NIGHT 133 The TIP of the WARHEAD creeps out through the hole. The body of the missile is just a hair too wide, which is good, because it jams itself nice and tight into the hole. CUT TO: 134 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 134 Trillian takes the tarp off the remaining jet ski. Pushes the swivel arm that holds it out over the railing. The PLATFORM TILTS! Trillian loses her balance. Almost goes over the

pull

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FIRE and BUBBLES. Trillian looks around. Scared shitless. The bubbles clear just in time for her to see -- Chin, mouth open, eyes wide, screaming in agony, being ripped past her. She tries to fire her rifle. Too late. Trillian watches as Chin VANISHES down the shaft in a CLOUD OF BUBBLES. CUT TO: 100 KITCHEN - NIGHT 100 TRILLIAN BURSTS to the surface. FINNEGAN YANKS her up and out of the water. FINNEGAN You O.K.? Trillian can only nod, and gasp for breath. Canton and Hanover catch their breath, PANTING AWAY, waterlogged. Hanover reaches over to retrieve the rifle in Trillian's hand. Trillian points the barrel at him, and hits the safety. TRILLIAN (grim) Finders keepers. Mamooli bursts out of the water, falling on the floor, close to panic mode. MAMOOLI Where's Chin? TRILLIAN Gone... MAMOOLI This is not real! This is not bloody real! Finnegan TOPPLES a large, heavy metal BROILER onto the open floor gate, sealing the watery hole in the floor. There are two hatches in this room. The far hatch is closed. Mamooli stands next to an OPEN HATCH. Canton points to it. CANTON Through there...another sixty, seventy yards...there are more elevators there. PANTUCCI I ain't goin' up no more elevators. CANTON There's stairways... Mamooli SLAMS the HATCH SHUT. Eyes bugging out of his head. MAMOOLI I say we stay right here! PANTUCCI Are you crazy? MAMOOLI (desperate) There's plenty of food here. We can hold out...someone'll rescue us... FINNEGAN Who? MAMOOLI Someone...maybe they sent an SOS! PANTUCCI On what? This son of a bitch (to Canton) zapped the communications. HANOVER Mamooli stand down! MAMOOLI We don't even know if his boat is still there...you saw Billy! FINNEGAN Boat or no boat...I'm going... Finnegan steps forward. Mamooli aims his rifle right at Finnegan's head. MAMOOLI They're wipin' us out one at a time. I say we make a stand. Right here! Right now! Maximum firepower! PANTUCCI Somebody shoot this jerk! FINNEGAN (calm) Nobody's shooting nobody...come on, just let us through the hatch! MAMOOLI I'll kill you!! I'll fucking kill you!! I'll do it! I'll do it! I'm not playin' around here! Finnegan freezes. CLOSE ON: The hatch. As a BLACK LIQUID starts to OOZE through a tiny latch-hole. No one sees it. FINNEGAN I once saw a guy put a fish in a bottle, then he corked it, sealing it tight, and threw it to a baby octopus. The little sucker felt its way around that bottle, and in less than two minutes, got that cork off, slid inside, and ate that fish. MAMOOLI What the hell are you talking about? FINNEGAN Us...I'm talking about us... We're the fish. The LIQUID SHADOW OOZES down and hits the floor, starts to EXPAND, filling like a water balloon. It's not a liquid. It's a Tentacle. VEINS, FEELERS and SUCKERS begin to form. MAMOOLI And what? These things are octopuses FINNEGAN I don't know what these things are ...all I know is... The TENTACLE slowly RISES UP right behind Mamooli. Inches behind his head. Finnegan and Hanover see it. Eyes widening. MAMOOLI What...? What?? Mamooli turns to the tentacle looming over him, about to strike. MAMOOLI (CONT'D) EEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH!!!! He opens fire, emptying his clip into the tentacle. The tentacle retreats into the pipes. Mamooli looks around. The room is empty. He runs out. CUT TO: 101 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 101 Mamooli rushes into the empty passageway, looks left. Then right. His POV. Down the hall another TENTACLE comes racing at him. Mamooli panics, drops his rifle. TRACK WITH Mamooli racing down the hallway, looking over his shoulder in fear, as the tentacle comes racing after him...gaining...gaining... almost on him... Mamooli leaps through an open hatch, and swings it shut in one swift motion. The tentacle slams into the glass portal. Stopped. Mamooli keeps his eye on the portal, and backs up two steps. He lets out a long deep breath of relief, turns... WHAM!!! Another tentacle envelops his face! MAMOOLI EEEYYYAAAHHHH!!!!! CUT TO: 102 MECHANICAL CHAMBER - NIGHT 102 Dante's Inferno: STEAM, SMOKE, FIRE, STRANGE NOISES, DARK AREAS, and lots of MOVING ENGINE PARTS. Finnegan leads, followed by Trillian, Hanover, Pantucci, and Canton. We can HEAR their HEARTS BEATING. Scary shit. Finnegan heads for a open HATCH. It suddenly SLAMS SHUT. He instantly VEERS down another passageway. PANTUCCI What the hell is going on!! Finnegan heads for another open HATCHWAY. It also SLAMS SHUT. FINNEGAN They're herding us. Finnegan and company keep going. HANOVER What are you talking about? As they round a corner, the CEILING IMPLODES right in front of them. PIPES and OTHER MATTER CRASH down. Cutting them off. Leaving only one route open...a slim passageway. FINNEGAN Like cattle... TRILLIAN You're saying they can think? FINNEGAN I'm saying they're calling the shots... Finnegan heads toward the passageway. CANTON Do we have to go there? The ceiling left above them begins to torque, and splits. The answer is plain. Everyone runs into the passage just as the ceiling comes down. CUT TO: 103 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 103 Finnegan leads them single-file, they quickly head into a SHAKING narrow void. Fear has led to silence, and unbearable tension. The walls on either side creak, and moan with strange noises. CUT TO: 104 MID-HULL - NIGHT 104 Finnegan quickly comes out of the CREAKING, MOANING GANGWAY, followed by the others. All the STRANGE NOISES suddenly STOP. Everything gets quiet. Finnegan freezes. Something's wrong. Everybody looks around. STEAM SHOOTS OUT from multiple pipes. The air is thick with MIST. TRILLIAN What's the matter? FINNEGAN The quiet... HANOVER Maybe we lost them. FINNEGAN Or maybe we're exactly where they want us to be. Finnegan moves on. The others follow. Guns out front. TENSE. They round a huge metal pillar and come face-to-face with a soul-wrenching nightmare. The CREATURES' NEST -- OR STOMACH. Across a small portion of the ship's midsection, is a huge GELATINOUS WOMB. Imagine a massive thick wall of clear-yellow JELL-O, with hundreds of BLUE VEINS running through it. If it weren't all so horrific, it would be considered beautiful. Inside the womb, A DOZEN HUMANS, passengers, float around in some kind of twisted embryonic state, the living dead. They all seem to be breathing the gelatin. Several TENTACLES WRIGGLE through the stuff; which divides and re forms in some sort of strange mitosis. Finnegan and the others look at the passengers, horrified. But even more horrifying is that the people can look back at them. Many start to reach out, seemingly in slow motion as their hands ooze through the thick gelatin. Trillian looks sick, trembles in fear. TRILLIAN What is it? FINNEGAN A meat locker. TRILLIAN We can't just leave them here. Canton looks like he's about to throw up, he starts backing away, heading for a side hatch. CANTON I can. In the womb, a Tentacle suddenly approaches a sexy young LADY. The Lady tries to back-pedal away, but because of the gelatin, it's like one of those nightmares where you can only move in slow motion. The FEELERS GRIP her naked thigh. She tries to scream, but her face is already starting to constrict, her whole body is being paralyzed. Pantucci is so horrified he's about to cry. PANTUCCI Oh no...oh God please no. The TENTACLE-SAC gloms onto the Lady's forehead. THROUGH THE SAC we can SEE her SKIN MELTING. The only thing she can move are her EYES, which are bugging-out in absolute horror as she is imbibed alive. Our heroes are frozen in fear. Until the Lady's EYES LIQUEFY. Trillian burries her head in Finnegan's shoulder, trying to shut out the horror. FINNEGAN We can't do anything for them... Let's go... He begins to lead her toward the hatch...when her eyes recognized the old lady with the orchid in her hair. The old lady seems to see her too. Her hands read out, IMPLORING. Her mouth silently shapes the words: HELP ME! Just as a tentacle comes creeping toward her. TRILLIAN NOOO!! Her rage rises. She hefts her rifle, and starts blasting away. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) You won't get her!! You won't!! Spitting FLAMES and SMOKE. The BULLETS IMPACT the gelatin. BLASTING IT AWAY. But the bullets only manage to go about twenty feet into the thick shit before gliding to a stop. GELATIN EXPLODES all over the place. TRACER HOLES STREAK through the stuff. But all the bullets are sliding short. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) Finnegan...do something!! Please!! Finnegan looks around and spots the place in the ceiling where most of the Tentacles are coming from. Their long TAILS WIGGLE down from a massive clutter of pipes. A bas-relief of horror. Finnegan reaches over and yanks two thermite grenades off Hanover's utility belt. HANOVER Finnegan, No!!! ...bites the pins and spits them out. FINNEGAN Eat this. He chucks the grenades up into the strange WRITHING FRESCO, safely clear of the passengers. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) FIRE IN THE HOLE! Pantucci and Hanover throw themselves to the floor. Finnegan pulls Trillian down, covering her. BA-WOOM! GELATIN SPRAYS EVERYWHERE. CUT TO: 105 FUJI MARU - SAME TIME 105 A loud, creepy, suction-like SOUND is HEARD, that strange pitter- patter of little feet running across the hull. Then the HULL begins to MOAN and CREAK from an UNSEEN PRESSURE. CUT TO: 106 MID HULL - NIGHT 106 All the MOVEMENT STOPS. The remaining TENTACLES VANISH into the machinery. Pantucci, and Hanover look up from the floor, covered in slime. Finnegan and Trillian also look up...and then look at each other face to face...inches apart. Dripping with slime. FINNEGAN Looking good... TRILLIAN You should talk... Then the machinery shuts down. The engines go dead. ALL SOUND CUTS OUT. An expectant hush. Somewhere, WATER DRIPS... WE GO EXTREMELY CLOSE ON Trillian's EYES. Pantucci's EYES. Hanover's EYES. Finnegan's EYES. The air is riddled with ominous expectation. And that's when the HULL BEGINS TO TORQUE. RIVETS POP and SNAP. WATER SPRAYS. METAL BUCKLES. 107 SHOT: 107 At the far end of the ship, part of the LOWER BOW RIPS OPEN! AND A WALL OF WATER RUSHES IN. FLOOD CITY! Finnegan's eyes widen as he sees (MODEL SHOT) the massive WAVE OF WATER CRASHING TOWARDS THEM. RIPPING OUT PIPES, DUCTS, WALLS, EQUIPMENT and EVERYTHING in front of it. FINNEGAN GO! GO! GO! They all hightail it for hatches. Finnegan and Trillian make it into one hatch. Hanover and Pantucci make it into another. WATER CRASHES and SPRAYS behind them. CUT TO: 108 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 108 Massive AIR BUBBLES EXPLODE out from under the bow. CUT TO: 109 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 109 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH up and down every passageway. And a CLAXTON RINGS, in accelerating tones, giving a frenetic urgency to ALL OF THE FOLLOWING SCENES: 110 A PASSAGEWAY: 110 WATER BLASTS through a hatch and CHASES Finnegan and Trillian down a passageway. They jag left at an intersection -- WATER BLASTS through the hatch directly in front of them. FINNEGAN We're going to sink! We've got to get on deck! They backtrack. Trillian's now in the lead. They HAUL ASS down a hallway. WATER ROARING IN from everywhere behind them. All of the watertight HATCHES begin to hydraulically CLOSE. Trillian and Finnegan JAG into a hatch. It's a small room. The hatch in front of them closes. WATER BLASTS in behind them. SWEEPS them off their feet. The ROOM quickly starts to FILL UP. Trillian pulls frantically at the hatch. CUT TO: 111 NARROW PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 111 Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through knee-high water. Pantucci stumbles into the water, frantically scrambles up. He looks back -- UNDER THE WATER, INKY FORMS hurl themselves down the passageway right towards him. Pantucci YELPS, and splashes away. CUT TO: 112 SUBMERGING ROOM - NIGHT 112 Trillian and Finnegan pull with all their might on a tiny portal. Finnegan tries to insert the blade of his knife in the crack. TRILLIAN So how do you get from the Bronx to the South China sea? FINNEGAN You quit high school, lie about your age, join the navy, and next thing you know, four years are up and you need a way to make a living... The knife blade slips into the crack. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) I'll break the seal! Pull. He yanks the blade. Trillian pulls. The seal pops. The portal flies open. Waist-high in water, Trillian sticks her arm out, tries to get her shoulder out, but there's no chance in hell of that. TRILLIAN Too small! She pulls her arm out. And a TENTACLE LUNGES IN. Just missing Trillian. It SPLASHES under the water. GRABS Finnegan's ankle. Pulls him under. FINNEGAN sticks the barrel of his gun underwater and OPENS FIRE. WATER EXPLODES. The Tentacle recoils. And rips itself back out the porthole. Trillian SLAMS the PORTHOLE SHUT and dogs it tight. The WATER QUICKLY RISES. CUT TO: 113 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 113 Pantucci and Hanover hauling ass. Hanover pulls out his last two Thermite grenades. Pantucci panics and grabs for them. PANTUCCI Gimme one! Gimme one! He knocks both of them out of Hanover's hands. They DISAPPEAR under the water. HANOVER You idiot! They quickly fumble around in the water, trying to find them. A TENTACLE BLASTS around the corner. Partially obscured by the wave in front of it. Heading right for them. Hanover finds the two grenades. Gives one to Pantucci. They rip the pins out and toss the grenades behind them. Then HAUL ASS faster. The Tentacle right behind them. A BEAT. And then the GRENADES EXPLODE, BA-WOOM! BA-WOOM! CUT TO: 114 FUJI MARY - NIGHT 114 The storm hammers the deck. Canton staggers out onto the RAIN SLICKED DECK just in time to see -- A HOLE BEING BLOWN OUT the side of the Fuji Maru's HULL. BUBBLES continue to EXPLODE OUT from under the bow. CANTON Oh my God, it's going to sink. Then slowly, Canton gets a gleam in his eye, now thrilled. CANTON (CONT'D) It's going to sink. CUT TO: 115 SUBMERGED ROOM - NIGHT 115 Finnegan and Trillian are getting banged around the frothy WATER as it quickly RISES. Now only inches from the ceiling. Trapped. They're about to drown. Finnegan keeps looking around, trying to figure a way out. TRILLIAN I was so goddamn close, Finnegan! So goddamn close to my island... I could almost taste the sand... FINNEGAN Keep tasting... Finnegan shoves the pulse rifle to the ceiling. And blasts away until part of the ceiling falls out and into the water. There's just enough room between two metal beams to get out. The rising WATER SHOVES them up through the hole. CUT TO: 116 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 116 Side-by-side, Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through waist-high water. They round a corner and look back -- INKY FORMS SLOSH around the corner. Heading right for them. They slog faster. PANTUCCI They're catchin' up! They're catchin' up! We gotta slow 'em down! HANOVER Feed them. That'll slow them down. A black STRIATED MUSCLE ROILS out of the foamy water, then quickly VANISHES under it, heading straight for them. PANTUCCI Feed 'em?!! Okay! All right! Feed 'em what? WHAT ARE WE GONNA FEED 'EM?! Hanover takes his pistol and SHOOTS Pantucci in the leg, BLAM! Pantucci SCREAMS. FALLS into the water. Hanover RUNS on. Pantucci doesn't even have time to deal with the pain. He starts SCRAMBLING through the water. UNDERWATER, the INKY FORMS RACE AFTER HIM. Only meters away. Pantucci throws himself into the opening of a dumbwaiter. SLAMS the DOOR SHUT. The TENTACLE ATTACKS the door. WORMING its way across the surface, trying to find a way inside. Pantucci is scared beyond his pain. Pushing back as far as he can against the rear wall, he sees the control button. He presses the up arrow. The dumbwaiter starts to move. CUT TO: 117 FUJI MARU REAR DECK - DAY 117 The Saipan is still bobbing behind the Fuji Maru. But the HARPOON HOOK, which holds the tow-line and is embedded into the rear deck of the ship, is starting to PRY LOOSE. It JERKS and BUCKS against the metal wall. Canton doesn't notice this as he slips and slides his way up to the railing. He sees the Saipan and smiles. Then he looks off at -- 118 ISLAND 118 rising out of the ocean. About a mile away. Canton starts to climb over the railing. And that's when the HARPOON HOOK RIPS FREE. WHIZZES FORWARD. And IMPALES Canton's LEG. He SCREAMS. Tries to spin free. The hook hangs onto his leg for a long, agonizing BEAT as Canton continues to SCREAM. Then the HOOK RIPS FREE, grabs the METAL RAILING and starts TEARING IT off the deck. Canton drops to the deck, holding his leg and whimpering in pain. And then he sees it -- 119 SPEEDBOAT 119 dangling from its harness down on the watersports platform. 120 TO SCENE 120 Canton starts to crawl for it. Moaning and bleeding. CUT TO: 121 CRYSTAL POOL DECK - NIGHT 121 Finnegan and Trillian race up onto the pool deck. Passing beneath a colorful NEON SIGN which READS: "THE FUJI MARU - YOUR FUN SHIP" In the dark, Trillian trips. She falls to the slippery, waterlogged deck, and SCREAMS... TRILLIAN EEEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH! ...clawing at her face... Finnegan pulls her hands from her face...and the thing that attached itself there...a small squid from the shattered aquarium. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) (freaked) Ah...ah...ah... Tries to catch her breath. FINNEGAN It's OK...it's not one of them... it's from the aquarium...it's... And then it dawns on Finnegan. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's not them...it's it... TRILLIAN What? FINNEGAN You know what kind of force it took to rip open the bow of this ship? A million little things like this... He holds up the squid. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...can't exert that kind of pressure... And the way it tracked us? A million little things don't carry portable phones to coordinate positions... What's chasing us... it's one...thing...one giant... thing. SMASH CUT TO: 122 ARIAL POV - MATTE FX SHOT - NIGHT 122 ...looking down on the Fuji Maru from high up in the air. Beneath the ENTIRE SHIP is an enormous, undulating BLACK SHADOW. A massive monster from the deep. CUT TO: 123 CASINO - NIGHT 123 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH. The CLAXTON RINGS. Off to one side of a wall, behind the bar, the dumbwaiter door opens, and Pantucci tumbles out, looks around, and then hears... HANOVER (V.O.) Help!! Help!! Pantucci limps around the bar, down a row of one armed bandits... rounds a corner, comes face-to-face with Hanover. Hanover's eyes are filled with terror and despair. His face is badly constricted. His body paralyzed. He clings to a black-jack table as a Tentacle-Sac drinks its way up his leg. It's already to his hip. He grasps desperately for his pistol, just beyond his reach on the floor. This guy ain't gonna survive. PANTUCCI YELPS and quickly back away, eyes wide, totally tense. He looks around, sees that there's only one Tentacle, and it's completely occupied with devouring Hanover. Pantucci is wigged, but manages to lock eyes with Hanover. Then he looks at the Sac, filled with regurgitated flesh. PANTUCCI ...even you don't deserve this. Pantucci picks up Hanover's pistol. Then slowly, cautiously, he creeps forward, and sticks the gun into Hanover's TWITCHING HAND. PANTUCCI (CONT'D) I'm sorry man... He turns and quickly limps off. Hanover's EYES look down at the gun in his hand. Then, with all the strength he has left, he slowly, painfully, turns the pistol so it points at his head. CLOSE ON: Hanover's trembling FINGER. As it slowly squeezes the trigger. He want to kill himself. Needs to hill himself. He squeezes harder. The TRIGGER DEPRESSES! -- CLICK! The gun is empty. Hanover's mouth opens in a horrible, silent scream. CUT TO: 124 REAR DECK - SAME TIME 124 Finnegan and Trillian race out onto the rear deck just as the HARPOON HOOK finishes TEARING the railing off the ship. The HOOK, the TOW- LINE, and the ENTIRE RAILING DROP over the side and fall OUT OF SIGHT. The TWO BOATS are now UNCOUPLED. Finnegan reels at the rain soaked sky. FINNEGAN Will somebody give me a break here? And that's when Finnegan and Trillian hear the SOUND of a HYDRAULIC HOIST. They look over -- 125 AT THE WATERSPORTS PLATFORM: 125 The speedboat is being hydraulically lowered into the water. Canton sits inside, fiddling with the ignition. ANGLE ON: Trillian and Finnegan racing down the spiral stairs leading to the watersports platform. TRILLIAN Wait! Stop! The boat touches down into the water. CANTON I'd like to but I have an appointment with my insurance broker! He HITS the HOIST-RELEASE BUTTON. The speedboat breaks free. Canton HITS the IGNITION. The boat's ENGINE ROARS. CANTON (CONT'D) Life takes the damndest turns, doesn't it? He red-lines the THROTTLE. The SPEEDBOAT HAULS ASS away from the cruiseliner. Canton steers for the island. Smiling. ANGLE ON: Trillian IN HER RAGE... TRILLIAN You son of a bitch!! She grabs Finnegan's pulse rifle, hefts it to her shoulder... FINNEGAN Look! He forces her to look in the distance. Their POV. The island. TRILLIAN Oh my god! Oh my god! How do we do it? How do we get there? FINNEGAN Not like him. Finnegan points to the water...and an INKY PSEUDOPOD FORM racing after the speedboat underwater. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's the engine...it can hear the engine...it goes for the loudest sound... The Tentacle quickly picks up speed, going faster and faster, getting closer and closer, stretching further and further. Suddenly, behind them, a METALLIC THRASHING SOUND is HEARD. They turn around and look -- The hook, the tow-line, and the entire railing have dropped down onto the watersports platform and are tangled up around the two jet skis, trying to tear free -- The Saipan is still clinging by its fingernails to the Fuji Maru! Finnegan races over to a WINCH and grabs the winch- line. CUT TO: 126 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 126 Canton, smiling brightly, peers at the approaching island through the speedboat's windscreen. So relieved he sings to himself, from the operetta H.M.S. PINAFORE. CANTON Oh we sail the ocean blue, and our mighty ship's a beauty. We are strong men, yes it's true, and responsive to our duty... When...YANK!!...the SPEEDBOAT is GRABBED from below, practically exploding as it DISINTEGRATES into TWO PIECES. Canton is PROPELLED through the windscreen and onto the hood. CUT TO: 127 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 127 Finnegan struggles to clip the winch-line onto the tow-line, hanging precariously over the edge of the ship, clip in one hand, winch-line in the other. The whole METAL MESS is BUCKING and TWISTING and SCREECHING. His every joint is being ripped out of socket as he strains to get the clip on the line before the entire rig tears away into the sea. With one last heroic effort of will and grit, he snaps the clip in place just as it all BREAKS LOOSE. One of the JET SKIS and the ENTIRE RAILING are RIPPED over the side and fall down into the ocean. Finnegan is also YANKED over the side, but he manages to hold on by his fingers, dangling precariously. FINNEGAN Hit it! Hit it! The HOOK and the TOW-LINE drop -- then SNAP TAUGHT as the winch-line holds them tight. Trillian throws the start lever on the winch. The WINCH KICKS ON and starts reeling in the Saipan. Finnegan tries to crawl up on the deck, exhausted. Trillian reaches down and pulls him the rest of the way up. He half collapses on top of her. TRILLIAN You know, Finnegan, I'm starting to believe what you said about you not being born to die on a luxury liner. Despite the grimness of their position, the closeness of their bodies is...a turn on...to both of them...and then a SCREAM from the sea. They look in the direction of... CUT TO: 128 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 128 Canton is pinned to the hood of the speedboat, his face shredded by glass, his leg mangled, screaming as his panicked eyes watch a TENTACLE slowly squirm across the hood toward him, it's hideous feelers writhe and arch. Canton backs away from it as far as he can. Another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up next to him. Canton crawls away from that one. Its Feelers and Suckers unsheathe, dripping mucus. Canton's eyes widen, horrified. Then another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up. Canton crawls to the center of the hood. And another TENTACLE. Canton has nowhere to go. The Tentacles close in on him. CANTON No! No! No! All the tentacles rise over him, about to descend. CANTON (CONT'D) NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! CUT TO: 129 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 129 Finnegan and Trillian race for all they are worth, clamber over the side of the Fuji Maru, dropping to the deck of the Saipan. CUT TO: 130 SAIPAN - NIGHT 130 Finnegan and Trillian slowly clamber through the hold, waist deep in water, on edge, eyes wide, watching for any sign of trouble. It's quiet in here. Maybe too quiet. TRILLIAN (quietly) Finnegan... FINNEGAN Yeah... TRILLIAN ...the minute you start your engines ...it's going to kill us, isn't it? They step up to one of the big CRATES. Finnegan starts SMASHING it with the butt of his pulse-rifle. The CRATE BURST OPEN. REVEALING the WARHEAD of the torpedo. Trillian is stunned. FINNEGAN Not unless we kill it first. Finnegan SMASHES more of the CRATE, it falls apart, REVEALING the entire torpedo. He hands her his pulse rifle. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) Anything moves, you shoot. Finnegan starts to yank open the top plates of the missile head. Trillian looks around nervously. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) There's not much horsepower left in the engines, but there's enough noise...once this baby's set...I'll rev it up...that slimy bastard will come for it like candy... TRILLIAN If you blow up your boat, how are we going to get to the island? FINNEGAN Jet ski...there's one left up there. The plate comes loose. Revealing a gaggle of wires, and parts. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...let's see, it was red wire cross compressor blue wire...or blue cross red? He starts to fiddle with the wires. -- Suddenly, there's a LOUD SLOSHING SOUND right behind them! CRATES TOPPLE! More pulse rifles spill out. Trillian spins, ready to blast away with the pulse rifle, to... PANTUCCI Don't shoot!! Don't shoot!! FINNEGAN Just the man I wanted to see. On this puppy here, you remember if it's red to blue or blue to red... He refers to the wires. PANTUCCI Not even a Joey, I'm glad to see you? Joey, what happened to your leg? FINNEGAN Joey, you want to get sucked out by a giant fucking mutated squid? PANTUCCI (fast) Red cross over to blue double blue ...is that what it is? A squid? FINNEGAN Squid...squid like...squid type... it's got tentacles, a feed sac... probably one central nervous processor somewhere...what the hell do I know is going on deep down in the ocean...there's all sorts of shit we've never seen...eighty foot clams...60 foot sharks...I'm just guessing...can you get me more juice out of Hercules...fast? PANTUCCI For juice, I gotta rebuild. That's not fast. TRILLIAN How about noise? Can you get noise? We don't need speed, just noise, right? FINNEGAN Right... PANTUCCI Can somebody tell me what the object of the exercise is here? FINNEGAN Seafood salad. (to Trillian) You ever operate a jet ski? TRILLIAN (nervous) You want ME to go up there? FINNEGAN Not unless you can wire a missile or fix an engine. TRILLIAN And what if I run into one of those things? Finnegan tosses her a pulse rifle from the overturned crate. FINNEGAN Don't forget the safety. She hits the safety, slams a shell into chamber... TRILLIAN Don't take too long...I'm not planning on being on the menu tonight. ...and exits. PANTUCCI (razzing) I've never seen you so congenial with a member of the opposite sex... The two of you got a nice patter going...got a nice rapport... FINNEGAN And you got 10 minutes before this thing livens up a boring evening. Finnegan attaches a wire to a sprocket. A red light starts to blink on the warhead. CUT TO: 131 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 131 It is VERY DARK. The RAIN is getting worse. THUNDER RUMBLES. LIGHTNING FLASHES. The FUJI MARU MOANS and CREAKS. BUBBLES EXPLODE from beneath it. The Saipan rocks against her hull. Trillian clambers along the TILTING RAILING, heading for the watersports platform. Her gorgeous eyes shift nervously. TRILLIAN I'm going to be OK...I'm going to be OK... The ship's METAL HULL SCREECHES. The SEAWATER BUBBLES and GURGLES. From somewhere deep inside the ship, we HEAR that loud primordial YOWL again. Trillian freezes, her heart double beats. She looks around, really scared. CUT TO: 132 SAIPAN'S HOLD - NIGHT 132 The missile is on a hoist being pushed forward by Pantucci and Finnegan toward a GAPING HOLE in the PORT BOW. PANTUCCI You know what I think? I think our luck has just about run shit out... FINNEGAN A little to the left... PANTUCCI I think we gotta stop floating from one fucked up situation to the next... FINNEGAN Line it up now, nice and easy... The missile head is right in line with the hole in the bow. PANTUCCI I'm telling you, man, we got to give the future some serious thought. FINNEGAN I have been. PANTUCCI And what have you come up with? FINNEGAN How does an island sound to you? Pantucci looks at Finnegan quizically. This is news to him. CUT TO: 133 SAIPAN - NIGHT 133 The TIP of the WARHEAD creeps out through the hole. The body of the missile is just a hair too wide, which is good, because it jams itself nice and tight into the hole. CUT TO: 134 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 134 Trillian takes the tarp off the remaining jet ski. Pushes the swivel arm that holds it out over the railing. The PLATFORM TILTS! Trillian loses her balance. Almost goes over the

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FIRE and BUBBLES. Trillian looks around. Scared shitless. The bubbles clear just in time for her to see -- Chin, mouth open, eyes wide, screaming in agony, being ripped past her. She tries to fire her rifle. Too late. Trillian watches as Chin VANISHES down the shaft in a CLOUD OF BUBBLES. CUT TO: 100 KITCHEN - NIGHT 100 TRILLIAN BURSTS to the surface. FINNEGAN YANKS her up and out of the water. FINNEGAN You O.K.? Trillian can only nod, and gasp for breath. Canton and Hanover catch their breath, PANTING AWAY, waterlogged. Hanover reaches over to retrieve the rifle in Trillian's hand. Trillian points the barrel at him, and hits the safety. TRILLIAN (grim) Finders keepers. Mamooli bursts out of the water, falling on the floor, close to panic mode. MAMOOLI Where's Chin? TRILLIAN Gone... MAMOOLI This is not real! This is not bloody real! Finnegan TOPPLES a large, heavy metal BROILER onto the open floor gate, sealing the watery hole in the floor. There are two hatches in this room. The far hatch is closed. Mamooli stands next to an OPEN HATCH. Canton points to it. CANTON Through there...another sixty, seventy yards...there are more elevators there. PANTUCCI I ain't goin' up no more elevators. CANTON There's stairways... Mamooli SLAMS the HATCH SHUT. Eyes bugging out of his head. MAMOOLI I say we stay right here! PANTUCCI Are you crazy? MAMOOLI (desperate) There's plenty of food here. We can hold out...someone'll rescue us... FINNEGAN Who? MAMOOLI Someone...maybe they sent an SOS! PANTUCCI On what? This son of a bitch (to Canton) zapped the communications. HANOVER Mamooli stand down! MAMOOLI We don't even know if his boat is still there...you saw Billy! FINNEGAN Boat or no boat...I'm going... Finnegan steps forward. Mamooli aims his rifle right at Finnegan's head. MAMOOLI They're wipin' us out one at a time. I say we make a stand. Right here! Right now! Maximum firepower! PANTUCCI Somebody shoot this jerk! FINNEGAN (calm) Nobody's shooting nobody...come on, just let us through the hatch! MAMOOLI I'll kill you!! I'll fucking kill you!! I'll do it! I'll do it! I'm not playin' around here! Finnegan freezes. CLOSE ON: The hatch. As a BLACK LIQUID starts to OOZE through a tiny latch-hole. No one sees it. FINNEGAN I once saw a guy put a fish in a bottle, then he corked it, sealing it tight, and threw it to a baby octopus. The little sucker felt its way around that bottle, and in less than two minutes, got that cork off, slid inside, and ate that fish. MAMOOLI What the hell are you talking about? FINNEGAN Us...I'm talking about us... We're the fish. The LIQUID SHADOW OOZES down and hits the floor, starts to EXPAND, filling like a water balloon. It's not a liquid. It's a Tentacle. VEINS, FEELERS and SUCKERS begin to form. MAMOOLI And what? These things are octopuses FINNEGAN I don't know what these things are ...all I know is... The TENTACLE slowly RISES UP right behind Mamooli. Inches behind his head. Finnegan and Hanover see it. Eyes widening. MAMOOLI What...? What?? Mamooli turns to the tentacle looming over him, about to strike. MAMOOLI (CONT'D) EEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH!!!! He opens fire, emptying his clip into the tentacle. The tentacle retreats into the pipes. Mamooli looks around. The room is empty. He runs out. CUT TO: 101 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 101 Mamooli rushes into the empty passageway, looks left. Then right. His POV. Down the hall another TENTACLE comes racing at him. Mamooli panics, drops his rifle. TRACK WITH Mamooli racing down the hallway, looking over his shoulder in fear, as the tentacle comes racing after him...gaining...gaining... almost on him... Mamooli leaps through an open hatch, and swings it shut in one swift motion. The tentacle slams into the glass portal. Stopped. Mamooli keeps his eye on the portal, and backs up two steps. He lets out a long deep breath of relief, turns... WHAM!!! Another tentacle envelops his face! MAMOOLI EEEYYYAAAHHHH!!!!! CUT TO: 102 MECHANICAL CHAMBER - NIGHT 102 Dante's Inferno: STEAM, SMOKE, FIRE, STRANGE NOISES, DARK AREAS, and lots of MOVING ENGINE PARTS. Finnegan leads, followed by Trillian, Hanover, Pantucci, and Canton. We can HEAR their HEARTS BEATING. Scary shit. Finnegan heads for a open HATCH. It suddenly SLAMS SHUT. He instantly VEERS down another passageway. PANTUCCI What the hell is going on!! Finnegan heads for another open HATCHWAY. It also SLAMS SHUT. FINNEGAN They're herding us. Finnegan and company keep going. HANOVER What are you talking about? As they round a corner, the CEILING IMPLODES right in front of them. PIPES and OTHER MATTER CRASH down. Cutting them off. Leaving only one route open...a slim passageway. FINNEGAN Like cattle... TRILLIAN You're saying they can think? FINNEGAN I'm saying they're calling the shots... Finnegan heads toward the passageway. CANTON Do we have to go there? The ceiling left above them begins to torque, and splits. The answer is plain. Everyone runs into the passage just as the ceiling comes down. CUT TO: 103 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 103 Finnegan leads them single-file, they quickly head into a SHAKING narrow void. Fear has led to silence, and unbearable tension. The walls on either side creak, and moan with strange noises. CUT TO: 104 MID-HULL - NIGHT 104 Finnegan quickly comes out of the CREAKING, MOANING GANGWAY, followed by the others. All the STRANGE NOISES suddenly STOP. Everything gets quiet. Finnegan freezes. Something's wrong. Everybody looks around. STEAM SHOOTS OUT from multiple pipes. The air is thick with MIST. TRILLIAN What's the matter? FINNEGAN The quiet... HANOVER Maybe we lost them. FINNEGAN Or maybe we're exactly where they want us to be. Finnegan moves on. The others follow. Guns out front. TENSE. They round a huge metal pillar and come face-to-face with a soul-wrenching nightmare. The CREATURES' NEST -- OR STOMACH. Across a small portion of the ship's midsection, is a huge GELATINOUS WOMB. Imagine a massive thick wall of clear-yellow JELL-O, with hundreds of BLUE VEINS running through it. If it weren't all so horrific, it would be considered beautiful. Inside the womb, A DOZEN HUMANS, passengers, float around in some kind of twisted embryonic state, the living dead. They all seem to be breathing the gelatin. Several TENTACLES WRIGGLE through the stuff; which divides and re forms in some sort of strange mitosis. Finnegan and the others look at the passengers, horrified. But even more horrifying is that the people can look back at them. Many start to reach out, seemingly in slow motion as their hands ooze through the thick gelatin. Trillian looks sick, trembles in fear. TRILLIAN What is it? FINNEGAN A meat locker. TRILLIAN We can't just leave them here. Canton looks like he's about to throw up, he starts backing away, heading for a side hatch. CANTON I can. In the womb, a Tentacle suddenly approaches a sexy young LADY. The Lady tries to back-pedal away, but because of the gelatin, it's like one of those nightmares where you can only move in slow motion. The FEELERS GRIP her naked thigh. She tries to scream, but her face is already starting to constrict, her whole body is being paralyzed. Pantucci is so horrified he's about to cry. PANTUCCI Oh no...oh God please no. The TENTACLE-SAC gloms onto the Lady's forehead. THROUGH THE SAC we can SEE her SKIN MELTING. The only thing she can move are her EYES, which are bugging-out in absolute horror as she is imbibed alive. Our heroes are frozen in fear. Until the Lady's EYES LIQUEFY. Trillian burries her head in Finnegan's shoulder, trying to shut out the horror. FINNEGAN We can't do anything for them... Let's go... He begins to lead her toward the hatch...when her eyes recognized the old lady with the orchid in her hair. The old lady seems to see her too. Her hands read out, IMPLORING. Her mouth silently shapes the words: HELP ME! Just as a tentacle comes creeping toward her. TRILLIAN NOOO!! Her rage rises. She hefts her rifle, and starts blasting away. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) You won't get her!! You won't!! Spitting FLAMES and SMOKE. The BULLETS IMPACT the gelatin. BLASTING IT AWAY. But the bullets only manage to go about twenty feet into the thick shit before gliding to a stop. GELATIN EXPLODES all over the place. TRACER HOLES STREAK through the stuff. But all the bullets are sliding short. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) Finnegan...do something!! Please!! Finnegan looks around and spots the place in the ceiling where most of the Tentacles are coming from. Their long TAILS WIGGLE down from a massive clutter of pipes. A bas-relief of horror. Finnegan reaches over and yanks two thermite grenades off Hanover's utility belt. HANOVER Finnegan, No!!! ...bites the pins and spits them out. FINNEGAN Eat this. He chucks the grenades up into the strange WRITHING FRESCO, safely clear of the passengers. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) FIRE IN THE HOLE! Pantucci and Hanover throw themselves to the floor. Finnegan pulls Trillian down, covering her. BA-WOOM! GELATIN SPRAYS EVERYWHERE. CUT TO: 105 FUJI MARU - SAME TIME 105 A loud, creepy, suction-like SOUND is HEARD, that strange pitter- patter of little feet running across the hull. Then the HULL begins to MOAN and CREAK from an UNSEEN PRESSURE. CUT TO: 106 MID HULL - NIGHT 106 All the MOVEMENT STOPS. The remaining TENTACLES VANISH into the machinery. Pantucci, and Hanover look up from the floor, covered in slime. Finnegan and Trillian also look up...and then look at each other face to face...inches apart. Dripping with slime. FINNEGAN Looking good... TRILLIAN You should talk... Then the machinery shuts down. The engines go dead. ALL SOUND CUTS OUT. An expectant hush. Somewhere, WATER DRIPS... WE GO EXTREMELY CLOSE ON Trillian's EYES. Pantucci's EYES. Hanover's EYES. Finnegan's EYES. The air is riddled with ominous expectation. And that's when the HULL BEGINS TO TORQUE. RIVETS POP and SNAP. WATER SPRAYS. METAL BUCKLES. 107 SHOT: 107 At the far end of the ship, part of the LOWER BOW RIPS OPEN! AND A WALL OF WATER RUSHES IN. FLOOD CITY! Finnegan's eyes widen as he sees (MODEL SHOT) the massive WAVE OF WATER CRASHING TOWARDS THEM. RIPPING OUT PIPES, DUCTS, WALLS, EQUIPMENT and EVERYTHING in front of it. FINNEGAN GO! GO! GO! They all hightail it for hatches. Finnegan and Trillian make it into one hatch. Hanover and Pantucci make it into another. WATER CRASHES and SPRAYS behind them. CUT TO: 108 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 108 Massive AIR BUBBLES EXPLODE out from under the bow. CUT TO: 109 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 109 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH up and down every passageway. And a CLAXTON RINGS, in accelerating tones, giving a frenetic urgency to ALL OF THE FOLLOWING SCENES: 110 A PASSAGEWAY: 110 WATER BLASTS through a hatch and CHASES Finnegan and Trillian down a passageway. They jag left at an intersection -- WATER BLASTS through the hatch directly in front of them. FINNEGAN We're going to sink! We've got to get on deck! They backtrack. Trillian's now in the lead. They HAUL ASS down a hallway. WATER ROARING IN from everywhere behind them. All of the watertight HATCHES begin to hydraulically CLOSE. Trillian and Finnegan JAG into a hatch. It's a small room. The hatch in front of them closes. WATER BLASTS in behind them. SWEEPS them off their feet. The ROOM quickly starts to FILL UP. Trillian pulls frantically at the hatch. CUT TO: 111 NARROW PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 111 Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through knee-high water. Pantucci stumbles into the water, frantically scrambles up. He looks back -- UNDER THE WATER, INKY FORMS hurl themselves down the passageway right towards him. Pantucci YELPS, and splashes away. CUT TO: 112 SUBMERGING ROOM - NIGHT 112 Trillian and Finnegan pull with all their might on a tiny portal. Finnegan tries to insert the blade of his knife in the crack. TRILLIAN So how do you get from the Bronx to the South China sea? FINNEGAN You quit high school, lie about your age, join the navy, and next thing you know, four years are up and you need a way to make a living... The knife blade slips into the crack. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) I'll break the seal! Pull. He yanks the blade. Trillian pulls. The seal pops. The portal flies open. Waist-high in water, Trillian sticks her arm out, tries to get her shoulder out, but there's no chance in hell of that. TRILLIAN Too small! She pulls her arm out. And a TENTACLE LUNGES IN. Just missing Trillian. It SPLASHES under the water. GRABS Finnegan's ankle. Pulls him under. FINNEGAN sticks the barrel of his gun underwater and OPENS FIRE. WATER EXPLODES. The Tentacle recoils. And rips itself back out the porthole. Trillian SLAMS the PORTHOLE SHUT and dogs it tight. The WATER QUICKLY RISES. CUT TO: 113 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 113 Pantucci and Hanover hauling ass. Hanover pulls out his last two Thermite grenades. Pantucci panics and grabs for them. PANTUCCI Gimme one! Gimme one! He knocks both of them out of Hanover's hands. They DISAPPEAR under the water. HANOVER You idiot! They quickly fumble around in the water, trying to find them. A TENTACLE BLASTS around the corner. Partially obscured by the wave in front of it. Heading right for them. Hanover finds the two grenades. Gives one to Pantucci. They rip the pins out and toss the grenades behind them. Then HAUL ASS faster. The Tentacle right behind them. A BEAT. And then the GRENADES EXPLODE, BA-WOOM! BA-WOOM! CUT TO: 114 FUJI MARY - NIGHT 114 The storm hammers the deck. Canton staggers out onto the RAIN SLICKED DECK just in time to see -- A HOLE BEING BLOWN OUT the side of the Fuji Maru's HULL. BUBBLES continue to EXPLODE OUT from under the bow. CANTON Oh my God, it's going to sink. Then slowly, Canton gets a gleam in his eye, now thrilled. CANTON (CONT'D) It's going to sink. CUT TO: 115 SUBMERGED ROOM - NIGHT 115 Finnegan and Trillian are getting banged around the frothy WATER as it quickly RISES. Now only inches from the ceiling. Trapped. They're about to drown. Finnegan keeps looking around, trying to figure a way out. TRILLIAN I was so goddamn close, Finnegan! So goddamn close to my island... I could almost taste the sand... FINNEGAN Keep tasting... Finnegan shoves the pulse rifle to the ceiling. And blasts away until part of the ceiling falls out and into the water. There's just enough room between two metal beams to get out. The rising WATER SHOVES them up through the hole. CUT TO: 116 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 116 Side-by-side, Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through waist-high water. They round a corner and look back -- INKY FORMS SLOSH around the corner. Heading right for them. They slog faster. PANTUCCI They're catchin' up! They're catchin' up! We gotta slow 'em down! HANOVER Feed them. That'll slow them down. A black STRIATED MUSCLE ROILS out of the foamy water, then quickly VANISHES under it, heading straight for them. PANTUCCI Feed 'em?!! Okay! All right! Feed 'em what? WHAT ARE WE GONNA FEED 'EM?! Hanover takes his pistol and SHOOTS Pantucci in the leg, BLAM! Pantucci SCREAMS. FALLS into the water. Hanover RUNS on. Pantucci doesn't even have time to deal with the pain. He starts SCRAMBLING through the water. UNDERWATER, the INKY FORMS RACE AFTER HIM. Only meters away. Pantucci throws himself into the opening of a dumbwaiter. SLAMS the DOOR SHUT. The TENTACLE ATTACKS the door. WORMING its way across the surface, trying to find a way inside. Pantucci is scared beyond his pain. Pushing back as far as he can against the rear wall, he sees the control button. He presses the up arrow. The dumbwaiter starts to move. CUT TO: 117 FUJI MARU REAR DECK - DAY 117 The Saipan is still bobbing behind the Fuji Maru. But the HARPOON HOOK, which holds the tow-line and is embedded into the rear deck of the ship, is starting to PRY LOOSE. It JERKS and BUCKS against the metal wall. Canton doesn't notice this as he slips and slides his way up to the railing. He sees the Saipan and smiles. Then he looks off at -- 118 ISLAND 118 rising out of the ocean. About a mile away. Canton starts to climb over the railing. And that's when the HARPOON HOOK RIPS FREE. WHIZZES FORWARD. And IMPALES Canton's LEG. He SCREAMS. Tries to spin free. The hook hangs onto his leg for a long, agonizing BEAT as Canton continues to SCREAM. Then the HOOK RIPS FREE, grabs the METAL RAILING and starts TEARING IT off the deck. Canton drops to the deck, holding his leg and whimpering in pain. And then he sees it -- 119 SPEEDBOAT 119 dangling from its harness down on the watersports platform. 120 TO SCENE 120 Canton starts to crawl for it. Moaning and bleeding. CUT TO: 121 CRYSTAL POOL DECK - NIGHT 121 Finnegan and Trillian race up onto the pool deck. Passing beneath a colorful NEON SIGN which READS: "THE FUJI MARU - YOUR FUN SHIP" In the dark, Trillian trips. She falls to the slippery, waterlogged deck, and SCREAMS... TRILLIAN EEEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH! ...clawing at her face... Finnegan pulls her hands from her face...and the thing that attached itself there...a small squid from the shattered aquarium. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) (freaked) Ah...ah...ah... Tries to catch her breath. FINNEGAN It's OK...it's not one of them... it's from the aquarium...it's... And then it dawns on Finnegan. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's not them...it's it... TRILLIAN What? FINNEGAN You know what kind of force it took to rip open the bow of this ship? A million little things like this... He holds up the squid. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...can't exert that kind of pressure... And the way it tracked us? A million little things don't carry portable phones to coordinate positions... What's chasing us... it's one...thing...one giant... thing. SMASH CUT TO: 122 ARIAL POV - MATTE FX SHOT - NIGHT 122 ...looking down on the Fuji Maru from high up in the air. Beneath the ENTIRE SHIP is an enormous, undulating BLACK SHADOW. A massive monster from the deep. CUT TO: 123 CASINO - NIGHT 123 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH. The CLAXTON RINGS. Off to one side of a wall, behind the bar, the dumbwaiter door opens, and Pantucci tumbles out, looks around, and then hears... HANOVER (V.O.) Help!! Help!! Pantucci limps around the bar, down a row of one armed bandits... rounds a corner, comes face-to-face with Hanover. Hanover's eyes are filled with terror and despair. His face is badly constricted. His body paralyzed. He clings to a black-jack table as a Tentacle-Sac drinks its way up his leg. It's already to his hip. He grasps desperately for his pistol, just beyond his reach on the floor. This guy ain't gonna survive. PANTUCCI YELPS and quickly back away, eyes wide, totally tense. He looks around, sees that there's only one Tentacle, and it's completely occupied with devouring Hanover. Pantucci is wigged, but manages to lock eyes with Hanover. Then he looks at the Sac, filled with regurgitated flesh. PANTUCCI ...even you don't deserve this. Pantucci picks up Hanover's pistol. Then slowly, cautiously, he creeps forward, and sticks the gun into Hanover's TWITCHING HAND. PANTUCCI (CONT'D) I'm sorry man... He turns and quickly limps off. Hanover's EYES look down at the gun in his hand. Then, with all the strength he has left, he slowly, painfully, turns the pistol so it points at his head. CLOSE ON: Hanover's trembling FINGER. As it slowly squeezes the trigger. He want to kill himself. Needs to hill himself. He squeezes harder. The TRIGGER DEPRESSES! -- CLICK! The gun is empty. Hanover's mouth opens in a horrible, silent scream. CUT TO: 124 REAR DECK - SAME TIME 124 Finnegan and Trillian race out onto the rear deck just as the HARPOON HOOK finishes TEARING the railing off the ship. The HOOK, the TOW- LINE, and the ENTIRE RAILING DROP over the side and fall OUT OF SIGHT. The TWO BOATS are now UNCOUPLED. Finnegan reels at the rain soaked sky. FINNEGAN Will somebody give me a break here? And that's when Finnegan and Trillian hear the SOUND of a HYDRAULIC HOIST. They look over -- 125 AT THE WATERSPORTS PLATFORM: 125 The speedboat is being hydraulically lowered into the water. Canton sits inside, fiddling with the ignition. ANGLE ON: Trillian and Finnegan racing down the spiral stairs leading to the watersports platform. TRILLIAN Wait! Stop! The boat touches down into the water. CANTON I'd like to but I have an appointment with my insurance broker! He HITS the HOIST-RELEASE BUTTON. The speedboat breaks free. Canton HITS the IGNITION. The boat's ENGINE ROARS. CANTON (CONT'D) Life takes the damndest turns, doesn't it? He red-lines the THROTTLE. The SPEEDBOAT HAULS ASS away from the cruiseliner. Canton steers for the island. Smiling. ANGLE ON: Trillian IN HER RAGE... TRILLIAN You son of a bitch!! She grabs Finnegan's pulse rifle, hefts it to her shoulder... FINNEGAN Look! He forces her to look in the distance. Their POV. The island. TRILLIAN Oh my god! Oh my god! How do we do it? How do we get there? FINNEGAN Not like him. Finnegan points to the water...and an INKY PSEUDOPOD FORM racing after the speedboat underwater. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's the engine...it can hear the engine...it goes for the loudest sound... The Tentacle quickly picks up speed, going faster and faster, getting closer and closer, stretching further and further. Suddenly, behind them, a METALLIC THRASHING SOUND is HEARD. They turn around and look -- The hook, the tow-line, and the entire railing have dropped down onto the watersports platform and are tangled up around the two jet skis, trying to tear free -- The Saipan is still clinging by its fingernails to the Fuji Maru! Finnegan races over to a WINCH and grabs the winch- line. CUT TO: 126 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 126 Canton, smiling brightly, peers at the approaching island through the speedboat's windscreen. So relieved he sings to himself, from the operetta H.M.S. PINAFORE. CANTON Oh we sail the ocean blue, and our mighty ship's a beauty. We are strong men, yes it's true, and responsive to our duty... When...YANK!!...the SPEEDBOAT is GRABBED from below, practically exploding as it DISINTEGRATES into TWO PIECES. Canton is PROPELLED through the windscreen and onto the hood. CUT TO: 127 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 127 Finnegan struggles to clip the winch-line onto the tow-line, hanging precariously over the edge of the ship, clip in one hand, winch-line in the other. The whole METAL MESS is BUCKING and TWISTING and SCREECHING. His every joint is being ripped out of socket as he strains to get the clip on the line before the entire rig tears away into the sea. With one last heroic effort of will and grit, he snaps the clip in place just as it all BREAKS LOOSE. One of the JET SKIS and the ENTIRE RAILING are RIPPED over the side and fall down into the ocean. Finnegan is also YANKED over the side, but he manages to hold on by his fingers, dangling precariously. FINNEGAN Hit it! Hit it! The HOOK and the TOW-LINE drop -- then SNAP TAUGHT as the winch-line holds them tight. Trillian throws the start lever on the winch. The WINCH KICKS ON and starts reeling in the Saipan. Finnegan tries to crawl up on the deck, exhausted. Trillian reaches down and pulls him the rest of the way up. He half collapses on top of her. TRILLIAN You know, Finnegan, I'm starting to believe what you said about you not being born to die on a luxury liner. Despite the grimness of their position, the closeness of their bodies is...a turn on...to both of them...and then a SCREAM from the sea. They look in the direction of... CUT TO: 128 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 128 Canton is pinned to the hood of the speedboat, his face shredded by glass, his leg mangled, screaming as his panicked eyes watch a TENTACLE slowly squirm across the hood toward him, it's hideous feelers writhe and arch. Canton backs away from it as far as he can. Another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up next to him. Canton crawls away from that one. Its Feelers and Suckers unsheathe, dripping mucus. Canton's eyes widen, horrified. Then another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up. Canton crawls to the center of the hood. And another TENTACLE. Canton has nowhere to go. The Tentacles close in on him. CANTON No! No! No! All the tentacles rise over him, about to descend. CANTON (CONT'D) NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! CUT TO: 129 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 129 Finnegan and Trillian race for all they are worth, clamber over the side of the Fuji Maru, dropping to the deck of the Saipan. CUT TO: 130 SAIPAN - NIGHT 130 Finnegan and Trillian slowly clamber through the hold, waist deep in water, on edge, eyes wide, watching for any sign of trouble. It's quiet in here. Maybe too quiet. TRILLIAN (quietly) Finnegan... FINNEGAN Yeah... TRILLIAN ...the minute you start your engines ...it's going to kill us, isn't it? They step up to one of the big CRATES. Finnegan starts SMASHING it with the butt of his pulse-rifle. The CRATE BURST OPEN. REVEALING the WARHEAD of the torpedo. Trillian is stunned. FINNEGAN Not unless we kill it first. Finnegan SMASHES more of the CRATE, it falls apart, REVEALING the entire torpedo. He hands her his pulse rifle. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) Anything moves, you shoot. Finnegan starts to yank open the top plates of the missile head. Trillian looks around nervously. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) There's not much horsepower left in the engines, but there's enough noise...once this baby's set...I'll rev it up...that slimy bastard will come for it like candy... TRILLIAN If you blow up your boat, how are we going to get to the island? FINNEGAN Jet ski...there's one left up there. The plate comes loose. Revealing a gaggle of wires, and parts. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...let's see, it was red wire cross compressor blue wire...or blue cross red? He starts to fiddle with the wires. -- Suddenly, there's a LOUD SLOSHING SOUND right behind them! CRATES TOPPLE! More pulse rifles spill out. Trillian spins, ready to blast away with the pulse rifle, to... PANTUCCI Don't shoot!! Don't shoot!! FINNEGAN Just the man I wanted to see. On this puppy here, you remember if it's red to blue or blue to red... He refers to the wires. PANTUCCI Not even a Joey, I'm glad to see you? Joey, what happened to your leg? FINNEGAN Joey, you want to get sucked out by a giant fucking mutated squid? PANTUCCI (fast) Red cross over to blue double blue ...is that what it is? A squid? FINNEGAN Squid...squid like...squid type... it's got tentacles, a feed sac... probably one central nervous processor somewhere...what the hell do I know is going on deep down in the ocean...there's all sorts of shit we've never seen...eighty foot clams...60 foot sharks...I'm just guessing...can you get me more juice out of Hercules...fast? PANTUCCI For juice, I gotta rebuild. That's not fast. TRILLIAN How about noise? Can you get noise? We don't need speed, just noise, right? FINNEGAN Right... PANTUCCI Can somebody tell me what the object of the exercise is here? FINNEGAN Seafood salad. (to Trillian) You ever operate a jet ski? TRILLIAN (nervous) You want ME to go up there? FINNEGAN Not unless you can wire a missile or fix an engine. TRILLIAN And what if I run into one of those things? Finnegan tosses her a pulse rifle from the overturned crate. FINNEGAN Don't forget the safety. She hits the safety, slams a shell into chamber... TRILLIAN Don't take too long...I'm not planning on being on the menu tonight. ...and exits. PANTUCCI (razzing) I've never seen you so congenial with a member of the opposite sex... The two of you got a nice patter going...got a nice rapport... FINNEGAN And you got 10 minutes before this thing livens up a boring evening. Finnegan attaches a wire to a sprocket. A red light starts to blink on the warhead. CUT TO: 131 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 131 It is VERY DARK. The RAIN is getting worse. THUNDER RUMBLES. LIGHTNING FLASHES. The FUJI MARU MOANS and CREAKS. BUBBLES EXPLODE from beneath it. The Saipan rocks against her hull. Trillian clambers along the TILTING RAILING, heading for the watersports platform. Her gorgeous eyes shift nervously. TRILLIAN I'm going to be OK...I'm going to be OK... The ship's METAL HULL SCREECHES. The SEAWATER BUBBLES and GURGLES. From somewhere deep inside the ship, we HEAR that loud primordial YOWL again. Trillian freezes, her heart double beats. She looks around, really scared. CUT TO: 132 SAIPAN'S HOLD - NIGHT 132 The missile is on a hoist being pushed forward by Pantucci and Finnegan toward a GAPING HOLE in the PORT BOW. PANTUCCI You know what I think? I think our luck has just about run shit out... FINNEGAN A little to the left... PANTUCCI I think we gotta stop floating from one fucked up situation to the next... FINNEGAN Line it up now, nice and easy... The missile head is right in line with the hole in the bow. PANTUCCI I'm telling you, man, we got to give the future some serious thought. FINNEGAN I have been. PANTUCCI And what have you come up with? FINNEGAN How does an island sound to you? Pantucci looks at Finnegan quizically. This is news to him. CUT TO: 133 SAIPAN - NIGHT 133 The TIP of the WARHEAD creeps out through the hole. The body of the missile is just a hair too wide, which is good, because it jams itself nice and tight into the hole. CUT TO: 134 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 134 Trillian takes the tarp off the remaining jet ski. Pushes the swivel arm that holds it out over the railing. The PLATFORM TILTS! Trillian loses her balance. Almost goes over the

liquefy

How many times the word 'liquefy' appears in the text?

FIRE and BUBBLES. Trillian looks around. Scared shitless. The bubbles clear just in time for her to see -- Chin, mouth open, eyes wide, screaming in agony, being ripped past her. She tries to fire her rifle. Too late. Trillian watches as Chin VANISHES down the shaft in a CLOUD OF BUBBLES. CUT TO: 100 KITCHEN - NIGHT 100 TRILLIAN BURSTS to the surface. FINNEGAN YANKS her up and out of the water. FINNEGAN You O.K.? Trillian can only nod, and gasp for breath. Canton and Hanover catch their breath, PANTING AWAY, waterlogged. Hanover reaches over to retrieve the rifle in Trillian's hand. Trillian points the barrel at him, and hits the safety. TRILLIAN (grim) Finders keepers. Mamooli bursts out of the water, falling on the floor, close to panic mode. MAMOOLI Where's Chin? TRILLIAN Gone... MAMOOLI This is not real! This is not bloody real! Finnegan TOPPLES a large, heavy metal BROILER onto the open floor gate, sealing the watery hole in the floor. There are two hatches in this room. The far hatch is closed. Mamooli stands next to an OPEN HATCH. Canton points to it. CANTON Through there...another sixty, seventy yards...there are more elevators there. PANTUCCI I ain't goin' up no more elevators. CANTON There's stairways... Mamooli SLAMS the HATCH SHUT. Eyes bugging out of his head. MAMOOLI I say we stay right here! PANTUCCI Are you crazy? MAMOOLI (desperate) There's plenty of food here. We can hold out...someone'll rescue us... FINNEGAN Who? MAMOOLI Someone...maybe they sent an SOS! PANTUCCI On what? This son of a bitch (to Canton) zapped the communications. HANOVER Mamooli stand down! MAMOOLI We don't even know if his boat is still there...you saw Billy! FINNEGAN Boat or no boat...I'm going... Finnegan steps forward. Mamooli aims his rifle right at Finnegan's head. MAMOOLI They're wipin' us out one at a time. I say we make a stand. Right here! Right now! Maximum firepower! PANTUCCI Somebody shoot this jerk! FINNEGAN (calm) Nobody's shooting nobody...come on, just let us through the hatch! MAMOOLI I'll kill you!! I'll fucking kill you!! I'll do it! I'll do it! I'm not playin' around here! Finnegan freezes. CLOSE ON: The hatch. As a BLACK LIQUID starts to OOZE through a tiny latch-hole. No one sees it. FINNEGAN I once saw a guy put a fish in a bottle, then he corked it, sealing it tight, and threw it to a baby octopus. The little sucker felt its way around that bottle, and in less than two minutes, got that cork off, slid inside, and ate that fish. MAMOOLI What the hell are you talking about? FINNEGAN Us...I'm talking about us... We're the fish. The LIQUID SHADOW OOZES down and hits the floor, starts to EXPAND, filling like a water balloon. It's not a liquid. It's a Tentacle. VEINS, FEELERS and SUCKERS begin to form. MAMOOLI And what? These things are octopuses FINNEGAN I don't know what these things are ...all I know is... The TENTACLE slowly RISES UP right behind Mamooli. Inches behind his head. Finnegan and Hanover see it. Eyes widening. MAMOOLI What...? What?? Mamooli turns to the tentacle looming over him, about to strike. MAMOOLI (CONT'D) EEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH!!!! He opens fire, emptying his clip into the tentacle. The tentacle retreats into the pipes. Mamooli looks around. The room is empty. He runs out. CUT TO: 101 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 101 Mamooli rushes into the empty passageway, looks left. Then right. His POV. Down the hall another TENTACLE comes racing at him. Mamooli panics, drops his rifle. TRACK WITH Mamooli racing down the hallway, looking over his shoulder in fear, as the tentacle comes racing after him...gaining...gaining... almost on him... Mamooli leaps through an open hatch, and swings it shut in one swift motion. The tentacle slams into the glass portal. Stopped. Mamooli keeps his eye on the portal, and backs up two steps. He lets out a long deep breath of relief, turns... WHAM!!! Another tentacle envelops his face! MAMOOLI EEEYYYAAAHHHH!!!!! CUT TO: 102 MECHANICAL CHAMBER - NIGHT 102 Dante's Inferno: STEAM, SMOKE, FIRE, STRANGE NOISES, DARK AREAS, and lots of MOVING ENGINE PARTS. Finnegan leads, followed by Trillian, Hanover, Pantucci, and Canton. We can HEAR their HEARTS BEATING. Scary shit. Finnegan heads for a open HATCH. It suddenly SLAMS SHUT. He instantly VEERS down another passageway. PANTUCCI What the hell is going on!! Finnegan heads for another open HATCHWAY. It also SLAMS SHUT. FINNEGAN They're herding us. Finnegan and company keep going. HANOVER What are you talking about? As they round a corner, the CEILING IMPLODES right in front of them. PIPES and OTHER MATTER CRASH down. Cutting them off. Leaving only one route open...a slim passageway. FINNEGAN Like cattle... TRILLIAN You're saying they can think? FINNEGAN I'm saying they're calling the shots... Finnegan heads toward the passageway. CANTON Do we have to go there? The ceiling left above them begins to torque, and splits. The answer is plain. Everyone runs into the passage just as the ceiling comes down. CUT TO: 103 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 103 Finnegan leads them single-file, they quickly head into a SHAKING narrow void. Fear has led to silence, and unbearable tension. The walls on either side creak, and moan with strange noises. CUT TO: 104 MID-HULL - NIGHT 104 Finnegan quickly comes out of the CREAKING, MOANING GANGWAY, followed by the others. All the STRANGE NOISES suddenly STOP. Everything gets quiet. Finnegan freezes. Something's wrong. Everybody looks around. STEAM SHOOTS OUT from multiple pipes. The air is thick with MIST. TRILLIAN What's the matter? FINNEGAN The quiet... HANOVER Maybe we lost them. FINNEGAN Or maybe we're exactly where they want us to be. Finnegan moves on. The others follow. Guns out front. TENSE. They round a huge metal pillar and come face-to-face with a soul-wrenching nightmare. The CREATURES' NEST -- OR STOMACH. Across a small portion of the ship's midsection, is a huge GELATINOUS WOMB. Imagine a massive thick wall of clear-yellow JELL-O, with hundreds of BLUE VEINS running through it. If it weren't all so horrific, it would be considered beautiful. Inside the womb, A DOZEN HUMANS, passengers, float around in some kind of twisted embryonic state, the living dead. They all seem to be breathing the gelatin. Several TENTACLES WRIGGLE through the stuff; which divides and re forms in some sort of strange mitosis. Finnegan and the others look at the passengers, horrified. But even more horrifying is that the people can look back at them. Many start to reach out, seemingly in slow motion as their hands ooze through the thick gelatin. Trillian looks sick, trembles in fear. TRILLIAN What is it? FINNEGAN A meat locker. TRILLIAN We can't just leave them here. Canton looks like he's about to throw up, he starts backing away, heading for a side hatch. CANTON I can. In the womb, a Tentacle suddenly approaches a sexy young LADY. The Lady tries to back-pedal away, but because of the gelatin, it's like one of those nightmares where you can only move in slow motion. The FEELERS GRIP her naked thigh. She tries to scream, but her face is already starting to constrict, her whole body is being paralyzed. Pantucci is so horrified he's about to cry. PANTUCCI Oh no...oh God please no. The TENTACLE-SAC gloms onto the Lady's forehead. THROUGH THE SAC we can SEE her SKIN MELTING. The only thing she can move are her EYES, which are bugging-out in absolute horror as she is imbibed alive. Our heroes are frozen in fear. Until the Lady's EYES LIQUEFY. Trillian burries her head in Finnegan's shoulder, trying to shut out the horror. FINNEGAN We can't do anything for them... Let's go... He begins to lead her toward the hatch...when her eyes recognized the old lady with the orchid in her hair. The old lady seems to see her too. Her hands read out, IMPLORING. Her mouth silently shapes the words: HELP ME! Just as a tentacle comes creeping toward her. TRILLIAN NOOO!! Her rage rises. She hefts her rifle, and starts blasting away. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) You won't get her!! You won't!! Spitting FLAMES and SMOKE. The BULLETS IMPACT the gelatin. BLASTING IT AWAY. But the bullets only manage to go about twenty feet into the thick shit before gliding to a stop. GELATIN EXPLODES all over the place. TRACER HOLES STREAK through the stuff. But all the bullets are sliding short. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) Finnegan...do something!! Please!! Finnegan looks around and spots the place in the ceiling where most of the Tentacles are coming from. Their long TAILS WIGGLE down from a massive clutter of pipes. A bas-relief of horror. Finnegan reaches over and yanks two thermite grenades off Hanover's utility belt. HANOVER Finnegan, No!!! ...bites the pins and spits them out. FINNEGAN Eat this. He chucks the grenades up into the strange WRITHING FRESCO, safely clear of the passengers. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) FIRE IN THE HOLE! Pantucci and Hanover throw themselves to the floor. Finnegan pulls Trillian down, covering her. BA-WOOM! GELATIN SPRAYS EVERYWHERE. CUT TO: 105 FUJI MARU - SAME TIME 105 A loud, creepy, suction-like SOUND is HEARD, that strange pitter- patter of little feet running across the hull. Then the HULL begins to MOAN and CREAK from an UNSEEN PRESSURE. CUT TO: 106 MID HULL - NIGHT 106 All the MOVEMENT STOPS. The remaining TENTACLES VANISH into the machinery. Pantucci, and Hanover look up from the floor, covered in slime. Finnegan and Trillian also look up...and then look at each other face to face...inches apart. Dripping with slime. FINNEGAN Looking good... TRILLIAN You should talk... Then the machinery shuts down. The engines go dead. ALL SOUND CUTS OUT. An expectant hush. Somewhere, WATER DRIPS... WE GO EXTREMELY CLOSE ON Trillian's EYES. Pantucci's EYES. Hanover's EYES. Finnegan's EYES. The air is riddled with ominous expectation. And that's when the HULL BEGINS TO TORQUE. RIVETS POP and SNAP. WATER SPRAYS. METAL BUCKLES. 107 SHOT: 107 At the far end of the ship, part of the LOWER BOW RIPS OPEN! AND A WALL OF WATER RUSHES IN. FLOOD CITY! Finnegan's eyes widen as he sees (MODEL SHOT) the massive WAVE OF WATER CRASHING TOWARDS THEM. RIPPING OUT PIPES, DUCTS, WALLS, EQUIPMENT and EVERYTHING in front of it. FINNEGAN GO! GO! GO! They all hightail it for hatches. Finnegan and Trillian make it into one hatch. Hanover and Pantucci make it into another. WATER CRASHES and SPRAYS behind them. CUT TO: 108 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 108 Massive AIR BUBBLES EXPLODE out from under the bow. CUT TO: 109 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 109 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH up and down every passageway. And a CLAXTON RINGS, in accelerating tones, giving a frenetic urgency to ALL OF THE FOLLOWING SCENES: 110 A PASSAGEWAY: 110 WATER BLASTS through a hatch and CHASES Finnegan and Trillian down a passageway. They jag left at an intersection -- WATER BLASTS through the hatch directly in front of them. FINNEGAN We're going to sink! We've got to get on deck! They backtrack. Trillian's now in the lead. They HAUL ASS down a hallway. WATER ROARING IN from everywhere behind them. All of the watertight HATCHES begin to hydraulically CLOSE. Trillian and Finnegan JAG into a hatch. It's a small room. The hatch in front of them closes. WATER BLASTS in behind them. SWEEPS them off their feet. The ROOM quickly starts to FILL UP. Trillian pulls frantically at the hatch. CUT TO: 111 NARROW PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 111 Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through knee-high water. Pantucci stumbles into the water, frantically scrambles up. He looks back -- UNDER THE WATER, INKY FORMS hurl themselves down the passageway right towards him. Pantucci YELPS, and splashes away. CUT TO: 112 SUBMERGING ROOM - NIGHT 112 Trillian and Finnegan pull with all their might on a tiny portal. Finnegan tries to insert the blade of his knife in the crack. TRILLIAN So how do you get from the Bronx to the South China sea? FINNEGAN You quit high school, lie about your age, join the navy, and next thing you know, four years are up and you need a way to make a living... The knife blade slips into the crack. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) I'll break the seal! Pull. He yanks the blade. Trillian pulls. The seal pops. The portal flies open. Waist-high in water, Trillian sticks her arm out, tries to get her shoulder out, but there's no chance in hell of that. TRILLIAN Too small! She pulls her arm out. And a TENTACLE LUNGES IN. Just missing Trillian. It SPLASHES under the water. GRABS Finnegan's ankle. Pulls him under. FINNEGAN sticks the barrel of his gun underwater and OPENS FIRE. WATER EXPLODES. The Tentacle recoils. And rips itself back out the porthole. Trillian SLAMS the PORTHOLE SHUT and dogs it tight. The WATER QUICKLY RISES. CUT TO: 113 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 113 Pantucci and Hanover hauling ass. Hanover pulls out his last two Thermite grenades. Pantucci panics and grabs for them. PANTUCCI Gimme one! Gimme one! He knocks both of them out of Hanover's hands. They DISAPPEAR under the water. HANOVER You idiot! They quickly fumble around in the water, trying to find them. A TENTACLE BLASTS around the corner. Partially obscured by the wave in front of it. Heading right for them. Hanover finds the two grenades. Gives one to Pantucci. They rip the pins out and toss the grenades behind them. Then HAUL ASS faster. The Tentacle right behind them. A BEAT. And then the GRENADES EXPLODE, BA-WOOM! BA-WOOM! CUT TO: 114 FUJI MARY - NIGHT 114 The storm hammers the deck. Canton staggers out onto the RAIN SLICKED DECK just in time to see -- A HOLE BEING BLOWN OUT the side of the Fuji Maru's HULL. BUBBLES continue to EXPLODE OUT from under the bow. CANTON Oh my God, it's going to sink. Then slowly, Canton gets a gleam in his eye, now thrilled. CANTON (CONT'D) It's going to sink. CUT TO: 115 SUBMERGED ROOM - NIGHT 115 Finnegan and Trillian are getting banged around the frothy WATER as it quickly RISES. Now only inches from the ceiling. Trapped. They're about to drown. Finnegan keeps looking around, trying to figure a way out. TRILLIAN I was so goddamn close, Finnegan! So goddamn close to my island... I could almost taste the sand... FINNEGAN Keep tasting... Finnegan shoves the pulse rifle to the ceiling. And blasts away until part of the ceiling falls out and into the water. There's just enough room between two metal beams to get out. The rising WATER SHOVES them up through the hole. CUT TO: 116 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 116 Side-by-side, Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through waist-high water. They round a corner and look back -- INKY FORMS SLOSH around the corner. Heading right for them. They slog faster. PANTUCCI They're catchin' up! They're catchin' up! We gotta slow 'em down! HANOVER Feed them. That'll slow them down. A black STRIATED MUSCLE ROILS out of the foamy water, then quickly VANISHES under it, heading straight for them. PANTUCCI Feed 'em?!! Okay! All right! Feed 'em what? WHAT ARE WE GONNA FEED 'EM?! Hanover takes his pistol and SHOOTS Pantucci in the leg, BLAM! Pantucci SCREAMS. FALLS into the water. Hanover RUNS on. Pantucci doesn't even have time to deal with the pain. He starts SCRAMBLING through the water. UNDERWATER, the INKY FORMS RACE AFTER HIM. Only meters away. Pantucci throws himself into the opening of a dumbwaiter. SLAMS the DOOR SHUT. The TENTACLE ATTACKS the door. WORMING its way across the surface, trying to find a way inside. Pantucci is scared beyond his pain. Pushing back as far as he can against the rear wall, he sees the control button. He presses the up arrow. The dumbwaiter starts to move. CUT TO: 117 FUJI MARU REAR DECK - DAY 117 The Saipan is still bobbing behind the Fuji Maru. But the HARPOON HOOK, which holds the tow-line and is embedded into the rear deck of the ship, is starting to PRY LOOSE. It JERKS and BUCKS against the metal wall. Canton doesn't notice this as he slips and slides his way up to the railing. He sees the Saipan and smiles. Then he looks off at -- 118 ISLAND 118 rising out of the ocean. About a mile away. Canton starts to climb over the railing. And that's when the HARPOON HOOK RIPS FREE. WHIZZES FORWARD. And IMPALES Canton's LEG. He SCREAMS. Tries to spin free. The hook hangs onto his leg for a long, agonizing BEAT as Canton continues to SCREAM. Then the HOOK RIPS FREE, grabs the METAL RAILING and starts TEARING IT off the deck. Canton drops to the deck, holding his leg and whimpering in pain. And then he sees it -- 119 SPEEDBOAT 119 dangling from its harness down on the watersports platform. 120 TO SCENE 120 Canton starts to crawl for it. Moaning and bleeding. CUT TO: 121 CRYSTAL POOL DECK - NIGHT 121 Finnegan and Trillian race up onto the pool deck. Passing beneath a colorful NEON SIGN which READS: "THE FUJI MARU - YOUR FUN SHIP" In the dark, Trillian trips. She falls to the slippery, waterlogged deck, and SCREAMS... TRILLIAN EEEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH! ...clawing at her face... Finnegan pulls her hands from her face...and the thing that attached itself there...a small squid from the shattered aquarium. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) (freaked) Ah...ah...ah... Tries to catch her breath. FINNEGAN It's OK...it's not one of them... it's from the aquarium...it's... And then it dawns on Finnegan. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's not them...it's it... TRILLIAN What? FINNEGAN You know what kind of force it took to rip open the bow of this ship? A million little things like this... He holds up the squid. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...can't exert that kind of pressure... And the way it tracked us? A million little things don't carry portable phones to coordinate positions... What's chasing us... it's one...thing...one giant... thing. SMASH CUT TO: 122 ARIAL POV - MATTE FX SHOT - NIGHT 122 ...looking down on the Fuji Maru from high up in the air. Beneath the ENTIRE SHIP is an enormous, undulating BLACK SHADOW. A massive monster from the deep. CUT TO: 123 CASINO - NIGHT 123 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH. The CLAXTON RINGS. Off to one side of a wall, behind the bar, the dumbwaiter door opens, and Pantucci tumbles out, looks around, and then hears... HANOVER (V.O.) Help!! Help!! Pantucci limps around the bar, down a row of one armed bandits... rounds a corner, comes face-to-face with Hanover. Hanover's eyes are filled with terror and despair. His face is badly constricted. His body paralyzed. He clings to a black-jack table as a Tentacle-Sac drinks its way up his leg. It's already to his hip. He grasps desperately for his pistol, just beyond his reach on the floor. This guy ain't gonna survive. PANTUCCI YELPS and quickly back away, eyes wide, totally tense. He looks around, sees that there's only one Tentacle, and it's completely occupied with devouring Hanover. Pantucci is wigged, but manages to lock eyes with Hanover. Then he looks at the Sac, filled with regurgitated flesh. PANTUCCI ...even you don't deserve this. Pantucci picks up Hanover's pistol. Then slowly, cautiously, he creeps forward, and sticks the gun into Hanover's TWITCHING HAND. PANTUCCI (CONT'D) I'm sorry man... He turns and quickly limps off. Hanover's EYES look down at the gun in his hand. Then, with all the strength he has left, he slowly, painfully, turns the pistol so it points at his head. CLOSE ON: Hanover's trembling FINGER. As it slowly squeezes the trigger. He want to kill himself. Needs to hill himself. He squeezes harder. The TRIGGER DEPRESSES! -- CLICK! The gun is empty. Hanover's mouth opens in a horrible, silent scream. CUT TO: 124 REAR DECK - SAME TIME 124 Finnegan and Trillian race out onto the rear deck just as the HARPOON HOOK finishes TEARING the railing off the ship. The HOOK, the TOW- LINE, and the ENTIRE RAILING DROP over the side and fall OUT OF SIGHT. The TWO BOATS are now UNCOUPLED. Finnegan reels at the rain soaked sky. FINNEGAN Will somebody give me a break here? And that's when Finnegan and Trillian hear the SOUND of a HYDRAULIC HOIST. They look over -- 125 AT THE WATERSPORTS PLATFORM: 125 The speedboat is being hydraulically lowered into the water. Canton sits inside, fiddling with the ignition. ANGLE ON: Trillian and Finnegan racing down the spiral stairs leading to the watersports platform. TRILLIAN Wait! Stop! The boat touches down into the water. CANTON I'd like to but I have an appointment with my insurance broker! He HITS the HOIST-RELEASE BUTTON. The speedboat breaks free. Canton HITS the IGNITION. The boat's ENGINE ROARS. CANTON (CONT'D) Life takes the damndest turns, doesn't it? He red-lines the THROTTLE. The SPEEDBOAT HAULS ASS away from the cruiseliner. Canton steers for the island. Smiling. ANGLE ON: Trillian IN HER RAGE... TRILLIAN You son of a bitch!! She grabs Finnegan's pulse rifle, hefts it to her shoulder... FINNEGAN Look! He forces her to look in the distance. Their POV. The island. TRILLIAN Oh my god! Oh my god! How do we do it? How do we get there? FINNEGAN Not like him. Finnegan points to the water...and an INKY PSEUDOPOD FORM racing after the speedboat underwater. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's the engine...it can hear the engine...it goes for the loudest sound... The Tentacle quickly picks up speed, going faster and faster, getting closer and closer, stretching further and further. Suddenly, behind them, a METALLIC THRASHING SOUND is HEARD. They turn around and look -- The hook, the tow-line, and the entire railing have dropped down onto the watersports platform and are tangled up around the two jet skis, trying to tear free -- The Saipan is still clinging by its fingernails to the Fuji Maru! Finnegan races over to a WINCH and grabs the winch- line. CUT TO: 126 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 126 Canton, smiling brightly, peers at the approaching island through the speedboat's windscreen. So relieved he sings to himself, from the operetta H.M.S. PINAFORE. CANTON Oh we sail the ocean blue, and our mighty ship's a beauty. We are strong men, yes it's true, and responsive to our duty... When...YANK!!...the SPEEDBOAT is GRABBED from below, practically exploding as it DISINTEGRATES into TWO PIECES. Canton is PROPELLED through the windscreen and onto the hood. CUT TO: 127 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 127 Finnegan struggles to clip the winch-line onto the tow-line, hanging precariously over the edge of the ship, clip in one hand, winch-line in the other. The whole METAL MESS is BUCKING and TWISTING and SCREECHING. His every joint is being ripped out of socket as he strains to get the clip on the line before the entire rig tears away into the sea. With one last heroic effort of will and grit, he snaps the clip in place just as it all BREAKS LOOSE. One of the JET SKIS and the ENTIRE RAILING are RIPPED over the side and fall down into the ocean. Finnegan is also YANKED over the side, but he manages to hold on by his fingers, dangling precariously. FINNEGAN Hit it! Hit it! The HOOK and the TOW-LINE drop -- then SNAP TAUGHT as the winch-line holds them tight. Trillian throws the start lever on the winch. The WINCH KICKS ON and starts reeling in the Saipan. Finnegan tries to crawl up on the deck, exhausted. Trillian reaches down and pulls him the rest of the way up. He half collapses on top of her. TRILLIAN You know, Finnegan, I'm starting to believe what you said about you not being born to die on a luxury liner. Despite the grimness of their position, the closeness of their bodies is...a turn on...to both of them...and then a SCREAM from the sea. They look in the direction of... CUT TO: 128 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 128 Canton is pinned to the hood of the speedboat, his face shredded by glass, his leg mangled, screaming as his panicked eyes watch a TENTACLE slowly squirm across the hood toward him, it's hideous feelers writhe and arch. Canton backs away from it as far as he can. Another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up next to him. Canton crawls away from that one. Its Feelers and Suckers unsheathe, dripping mucus. Canton's eyes widen, horrified. Then another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up. Canton crawls to the center of the hood. And another TENTACLE. Canton has nowhere to go. The Tentacles close in on him. CANTON No! No! No! All the tentacles rise over him, about to descend. CANTON (CONT'D) NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! CUT TO: 129 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 129 Finnegan and Trillian race for all they are worth, clamber over the side of the Fuji Maru, dropping to the deck of the Saipan. CUT TO: 130 SAIPAN - NIGHT 130 Finnegan and Trillian slowly clamber through the hold, waist deep in water, on edge, eyes wide, watching for any sign of trouble. It's quiet in here. Maybe too quiet. TRILLIAN (quietly) Finnegan... FINNEGAN Yeah... TRILLIAN ...the minute you start your engines ...it's going to kill us, isn't it? They step up to one of the big CRATES. Finnegan starts SMASHING it with the butt of his pulse-rifle. The CRATE BURST OPEN. REVEALING the WARHEAD of the torpedo. Trillian is stunned. FINNEGAN Not unless we kill it first. Finnegan SMASHES more of the CRATE, it falls apart, REVEALING the entire torpedo. He hands her his pulse rifle. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) Anything moves, you shoot. Finnegan starts to yank open the top plates of the missile head. Trillian looks around nervously. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) There's not much horsepower left in the engines, but there's enough noise...once this baby's set...I'll rev it up...that slimy bastard will come for it like candy... TRILLIAN If you blow up your boat, how are we going to get to the island? FINNEGAN Jet ski...there's one left up there. The plate comes loose. Revealing a gaggle of wires, and parts. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...let's see, it was red wire cross compressor blue wire...or blue cross red? He starts to fiddle with the wires. -- Suddenly, there's a LOUD SLOSHING SOUND right behind them! CRATES TOPPLE! More pulse rifles spill out. Trillian spins, ready to blast away with the pulse rifle, to... PANTUCCI Don't shoot!! Don't shoot!! FINNEGAN Just the man I wanted to see. On this puppy here, you remember if it's red to blue or blue to red... He refers to the wires. PANTUCCI Not even a Joey, I'm glad to see you? Joey, what happened to your leg? FINNEGAN Joey, you want to get sucked out by a giant fucking mutated squid? PANTUCCI (fast) Red cross over to blue double blue ...is that what it is? A squid? FINNEGAN Squid...squid like...squid type... it's got tentacles, a feed sac... probably one central nervous processor somewhere...what the hell do I know is going on deep down in the ocean...there's all sorts of shit we've never seen...eighty foot clams...60 foot sharks...I'm just guessing...can you get me more juice out of Hercules...fast? PANTUCCI For juice, I gotta rebuild. That's not fast. TRILLIAN How about noise? Can you get noise? We don't need speed, just noise, right? FINNEGAN Right... PANTUCCI Can somebody tell me what the object of the exercise is here? FINNEGAN Seafood salad. (to Trillian) You ever operate a jet ski? TRILLIAN (nervous) You want ME to go up there? FINNEGAN Not unless you can wire a missile or fix an engine. TRILLIAN And what if I run into one of those things? Finnegan tosses her a pulse rifle from the overturned crate. FINNEGAN Don't forget the safety. She hits the safety, slams a shell into chamber... TRILLIAN Don't take too long...I'm not planning on being on the menu tonight. ...and exits. PANTUCCI (razzing) I've never seen you so congenial with a member of the opposite sex... The two of you got a nice patter going...got a nice rapport... FINNEGAN And you got 10 minutes before this thing livens up a boring evening. Finnegan attaches a wire to a sprocket. A red light starts to blink on the warhead. CUT TO: 131 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 131 It is VERY DARK. The RAIN is getting worse. THUNDER RUMBLES. LIGHTNING FLASHES. The FUJI MARU MOANS and CREAKS. BUBBLES EXPLODE from beneath it. The Saipan rocks against her hull. Trillian clambers along the TILTING RAILING, heading for the watersports platform. Her gorgeous eyes shift nervously. TRILLIAN I'm going to be OK...I'm going to be OK... The ship's METAL HULL SCREECHES. The SEAWATER BUBBLES and GURGLES. From somewhere deep inside the ship, we HEAR that loud primordial YOWL again. Trillian freezes, her heart double beats. She looks around, really scared. CUT TO: 132 SAIPAN'S HOLD - NIGHT 132 The missile is on a hoist being pushed forward by Pantucci and Finnegan toward a GAPING HOLE in the PORT BOW. PANTUCCI You know what I think? I think our luck has just about run shit out... FINNEGAN A little to the left... PANTUCCI I think we gotta stop floating from one fucked up situation to the next... FINNEGAN Line it up now, nice and easy... The missile head is right in line with the hole in the bow. PANTUCCI I'm telling you, man, we got to give the future some serious thought. FINNEGAN I have been. PANTUCCI And what have you come up with? FINNEGAN How does an island sound to you? Pantucci looks at Finnegan quizically. This is news to him. CUT TO: 133 SAIPAN - NIGHT 133 The TIP of the WARHEAD creeps out through the hole. The body of the missile is just a hair too wide, which is good, because it jams itself nice and tight into the hole. CUT TO: 134 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 134 Trillian takes the tarp off the remaining jet ski. Pushes the swivel arm that holds it out over the railing. The PLATFORM TILTS! Trillian loses her balance. Almost goes over the

no

How many times the word 'no' appears in the text?

FIRE and BUBBLES. Trillian looks around. Scared shitless. The bubbles clear just in time for her to see -- Chin, mouth open, eyes wide, screaming in agony, being ripped past her. She tries to fire her rifle. Too late. Trillian watches as Chin VANISHES down the shaft in a CLOUD OF BUBBLES. CUT TO: 100 KITCHEN - NIGHT 100 TRILLIAN BURSTS to the surface. FINNEGAN YANKS her up and out of the water. FINNEGAN You O.K.? Trillian can only nod, and gasp for breath. Canton and Hanover catch their breath, PANTING AWAY, waterlogged. Hanover reaches over to retrieve the rifle in Trillian's hand. Trillian points the barrel at him, and hits the safety. TRILLIAN (grim) Finders keepers. Mamooli bursts out of the water, falling on the floor, close to panic mode. MAMOOLI Where's Chin? TRILLIAN Gone... MAMOOLI This is not real! This is not bloody real! Finnegan TOPPLES a large, heavy metal BROILER onto the open floor gate, sealing the watery hole in the floor. There are two hatches in this room. The far hatch is closed. Mamooli stands next to an OPEN HATCH. Canton points to it. CANTON Through there...another sixty, seventy yards...there are more elevators there. PANTUCCI I ain't goin' up no more elevators. CANTON There's stairways... Mamooli SLAMS the HATCH SHUT. Eyes bugging out of his head. MAMOOLI I say we stay right here! PANTUCCI Are you crazy? MAMOOLI (desperate) There's plenty of food here. We can hold out...someone'll rescue us... FINNEGAN Who? MAMOOLI Someone...maybe they sent an SOS! PANTUCCI On what? This son of a bitch (to Canton) zapped the communications. HANOVER Mamooli stand down! MAMOOLI We don't even know if his boat is still there...you saw Billy! FINNEGAN Boat or no boat...I'm going... Finnegan steps forward. Mamooli aims his rifle right at Finnegan's head. MAMOOLI They're wipin' us out one at a time. I say we make a stand. Right here! Right now! Maximum firepower! PANTUCCI Somebody shoot this jerk! FINNEGAN (calm) Nobody's shooting nobody...come on, just let us through the hatch! MAMOOLI I'll kill you!! I'll fucking kill you!! I'll do it! I'll do it! I'm not playin' around here! Finnegan freezes. CLOSE ON: The hatch. As a BLACK LIQUID starts to OOZE through a tiny latch-hole. No one sees it. FINNEGAN I once saw a guy put a fish in a bottle, then he corked it, sealing it tight, and threw it to a baby octopus. The little sucker felt its way around that bottle, and in less than two minutes, got that cork off, slid inside, and ate that fish. MAMOOLI What the hell are you talking about? FINNEGAN Us...I'm talking about us... We're the fish. The LIQUID SHADOW OOZES down and hits the floor, starts to EXPAND, filling like a water balloon. It's not a liquid. It's a Tentacle. VEINS, FEELERS and SUCKERS begin to form. MAMOOLI And what? These things are octopuses FINNEGAN I don't know what these things are ...all I know is... The TENTACLE slowly RISES UP right behind Mamooli. Inches behind his head. Finnegan and Hanover see it. Eyes widening. MAMOOLI What...? What?? Mamooli turns to the tentacle looming over him, about to strike. MAMOOLI (CONT'D) EEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH!!!! He opens fire, emptying his clip into the tentacle. The tentacle retreats into the pipes. Mamooli looks around. The room is empty. He runs out. CUT TO: 101 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 101 Mamooli rushes into the empty passageway, looks left. Then right. His POV. Down the hall another TENTACLE comes racing at him. Mamooli panics, drops his rifle. TRACK WITH Mamooli racing down the hallway, looking over his shoulder in fear, as the tentacle comes racing after him...gaining...gaining... almost on him... Mamooli leaps through an open hatch, and swings it shut in one swift motion. The tentacle slams into the glass portal. Stopped. Mamooli keeps his eye on the portal, and backs up two steps. He lets out a long deep breath of relief, turns... WHAM!!! Another tentacle envelops his face! MAMOOLI EEEYYYAAAHHHH!!!!! CUT TO: 102 MECHANICAL CHAMBER - NIGHT 102 Dante's Inferno: STEAM, SMOKE, FIRE, STRANGE NOISES, DARK AREAS, and lots of MOVING ENGINE PARTS. Finnegan leads, followed by Trillian, Hanover, Pantucci, and Canton. We can HEAR their HEARTS BEATING. Scary shit. Finnegan heads for a open HATCH. It suddenly SLAMS SHUT. He instantly VEERS down another passageway. PANTUCCI What the hell is going on!! Finnegan heads for another open HATCHWAY. It also SLAMS SHUT. FINNEGAN They're herding us. Finnegan and company keep going. HANOVER What are you talking about? As they round a corner, the CEILING IMPLODES right in front of them. PIPES and OTHER MATTER CRASH down. Cutting them off. Leaving only one route open...a slim passageway. FINNEGAN Like cattle... TRILLIAN You're saying they can think? FINNEGAN I'm saying they're calling the shots... Finnegan heads toward the passageway. CANTON Do we have to go there? The ceiling left above them begins to torque, and splits. The answer is plain. Everyone runs into the passage just as the ceiling comes down. CUT TO: 103 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 103 Finnegan leads them single-file, they quickly head into a SHAKING narrow void. Fear has led to silence, and unbearable tension. The walls on either side creak, and moan with strange noises. CUT TO: 104 MID-HULL - NIGHT 104 Finnegan quickly comes out of the CREAKING, MOANING GANGWAY, followed by the others. All the STRANGE NOISES suddenly STOP. Everything gets quiet. Finnegan freezes. Something's wrong. Everybody looks around. STEAM SHOOTS OUT from multiple pipes. The air is thick with MIST. TRILLIAN What's the matter? FINNEGAN The quiet... HANOVER Maybe we lost them. FINNEGAN Or maybe we're exactly where they want us to be. Finnegan moves on. The others follow. Guns out front. TENSE. They round a huge metal pillar and come face-to-face with a soul-wrenching nightmare. The CREATURES' NEST -- OR STOMACH. Across a small portion of the ship's midsection, is a huge GELATINOUS WOMB. Imagine a massive thick wall of clear-yellow JELL-O, with hundreds of BLUE VEINS running through it. If it weren't all so horrific, it would be considered beautiful. Inside the womb, A DOZEN HUMANS, passengers, float around in some kind of twisted embryonic state, the living dead. They all seem to be breathing the gelatin. Several TENTACLES WRIGGLE through the stuff; which divides and re forms in some sort of strange mitosis. Finnegan and the others look at the passengers, horrified. But even more horrifying is that the people can look back at them. Many start to reach out, seemingly in slow motion as their hands ooze through the thick gelatin. Trillian looks sick, trembles in fear. TRILLIAN What is it? FINNEGAN A meat locker. TRILLIAN We can't just leave them here. Canton looks like he's about to throw up, he starts backing away, heading for a side hatch. CANTON I can. In the womb, a Tentacle suddenly approaches a sexy young LADY. The Lady tries to back-pedal away, but because of the gelatin, it's like one of those nightmares where you can only move in slow motion. The FEELERS GRIP her naked thigh. She tries to scream, but her face is already starting to constrict, her whole body is being paralyzed. Pantucci is so horrified he's about to cry. PANTUCCI Oh no...oh God please no. The TENTACLE-SAC gloms onto the Lady's forehead. THROUGH THE SAC we can SEE her SKIN MELTING. The only thing she can move are her EYES, which are bugging-out in absolute horror as she is imbibed alive. Our heroes are frozen in fear. Until the Lady's EYES LIQUEFY. Trillian burries her head in Finnegan's shoulder, trying to shut out the horror. FINNEGAN We can't do anything for them... Let's go... He begins to lead her toward the hatch...when her eyes recognized the old lady with the orchid in her hair. The old lady seems to see her too. Her hands read out, IMPLORING. Her mouth silently shapes the words: HELP ME! Just as a tentacle comes creeping toward her. TRILLIAN NOOO!! Her rage rises. She hefts her rifle, and starts blasting away. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) You won't get her!! You won't!! Spitting FLAMES and SMOKE. The BULLETS IMPACT the gelatin. BLASTING IT AWAY. But the bullets only manage to go about twenty feet into the thick shit before gliding to a stop. GELATIN EXPLODES all over the place. TRACER HOLES STREAK through the stuff. But all the bullets are sliding short. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) Finnegan...do something!! Please!! Finnegan looks around and spots the place in the ceiling where most of the Tentacles are coming from. Their long TAILS WIGGLE down from a massive clutter of pipes. A bas-relief of horror. Finnegan reaches over and yanks two thermite grenades off Hanover's utility belt. HANOVER Finnegan, No!!! ...bites the pins and spits them out. FINNEGAN Eat this. He chucks the grenades up into the strange WRITHING FRESCO, safely clear of the passengers. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) FIRE IN THE HOLE! Pantucci and Hanover throw themselves to the floor. Finnegan pulls Trillian down, covering her. BA-WOOM! GELATIN SPRAYS EVERYWHERE. CUT TO: 105 FUJI MARU - SAME TIME 105 A loud, creepy, suction-like SOUND is HEARD, that strange pitter- patter of little feet running across the hull. Then the HULL begins to MOAN and CREAK from an UNSEEN PRESSURE. CUT TO: 106 MID HULL - NIGHT 106 All the MOVEMENT STOPS. The remaining TENTACLES VANISH into the machinery. Pantucci, and Hanover look up from the floor, covered in slime. Finnegan and Trillian also look up...and then look at each other face to face...inches apart. Dripping with slime. FINNEGAN Looking good... TRILLIAN You should talk... Then the machinery shuts down. The engines go dead. ALL SOUND CUTS OUT. An expectant hush. Somewhere, WATER DRIPS... WE GO EXTREMELY CLOSE ON Trillian's EYES. Pantucci's EYES. Hanover's EYES. Finnegan's EYES. The air is riddled with ominous expectation. And that's when the HULL BEGINS TO TORQUE. RIVETS POP and SNAP. WATER SPRAYS. METAL BUCKLES. 107 SHOT: 107 At the far end of the ship, part of the LOWER BOW RIPS OPEN! AND A WALL OF WATER RUSHES IN. FLOOD CITY! Finnegan's eyes widen as he sees (MODEL SHOT) the massive WAVE OF WATER CRASHING TOWARDS THEM. RIPPING OUT PIPES, DUCTS, WALLS, EQUIPMENT and EVERYTHING in front of it. FINNEGAN GO! GO! GO! They all hightail it for hatches. Finnegan and Trillian make it into one hatch. Hanover and Pantucci make it into another. WATER CRASHES and SPRAYS behind them. CUT TO: 108 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 108 Massive AIR BUBBLES EXPLODE out from under the bow. CUT TO: 109 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 109 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH up and down every passageway. And a CLAXTON RINGS, in accelerating tones, giving a frenetic urgency to ALL OF THE FOLLOWING SCENES: 110 A PASSAGEWAY: 110 WATER BLASTS through a hatch and CHASES Finnegan and Trillian down a passageway. They jag left at an intersection -- WATER BLASTS through the hatch directly in front of them. FINNEGAN We're going to sink! We've got to get on deck! They backtrack. Trillian's now in the lead. They HAUL ASS down a hallway. WATER ROARING IN from everywhere behind them. All of the watertight HATCHES begin to hydraulically CLOSE. Trillian and Finnegan JAG into a hatch. It's a small room. The hatch in front of them closes. WATER BLASTS in behind them. SWEEPS them off their feet. The ROOM quickly starts to FILL UP. Trillian pulls frantically at the hatch. CUT TO: 111 NARROW PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 111 Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through knee-high water. Pantucci stumbles into the water, frantically scrambles up. He looks back -- UNDER THE WATER, INKY FORMS hurl themselves down the passageway right towards him. Pantucci YELPS, and splashes away. CUT TO: 112 SUBMERGING ROOM - NIGHT 112 Trillian and Finnegan pull with all their might on a tiny portal. Finnegan tries to insert the blade of his knife in the crack. TRILLIAN So how do you get from the Bronx to the South China sea? FINNEGAN You quit high school, lie about your age, join the navy, and next thing you know, four years are up and you need a way to make a living... The knife blade slips into the crack. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) I'll break the seal! Pull. He yanks the blade. Trillian pulls. The seal pops. The portal flies open. Waist-high in water, Trillian sticks her arm out, tries to get her shoulder out, but there's no chance in hell of that. TRILLIAN Too small! She pulls her arm out. And a TENTACLE LUNGES IN. Just missing Trillian. It SPLASHES under the water. GRABS Finnegan's ankle. Pulls him under. FINNEGAN sticks the barrel of his gun underwater and OPENS FIRE. WATER EXPLODES. The Tentacle recoils. And rips itself back out the porthole. Trillian SLAMS the PORTHOLE SHUT and dogs it tight. The WATER QUICKLY RISES. CUT TO: 113 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 113 Pantucci and Hanover hauling ass. Hanover pulls out his last two Thermite grenades. Pantucci panics and grabs for them. PANTUCCI Gimme one! Gimme one! He knocks both of them out of Hanover's hands. They DISAPPEAR under the water. HANOVER You idiot! They quickly fumble around in the water, trying to find them. A TENTACLE BLASTS around the corner. Partially obscured by the wave in front of it. Heading right for them. Hanover finds the two grenades. Gives one to Pantucci. They rip the pins out and toss the grenades behind them. Then HAUL ASS faster. The Tentacle right behind them. A BEAT. And then the GRENADES EXPLODE, BA-WOOM! BA-WOOM! CUT TO: 114 FUJI MARY - NIGHT 114 The storm hammers the deck. Canton staggers out onto the RAIN SLICKED DECK just in time to see -- A HOLE BEING BLOWN OUT the side of the Fuji Maru's HULL. BUBBLES continue to EXPLODE OUT from under the bow. CANTON Oh my God, it's going to sink. Then slowly, Canton gets a gleam in his eye, now thrilled. CANTON (CONT'D) It's going to sink. CUT TO: 115 SUBMERGED ROOM - NIGHT 115 Finnegan and Trillian are getting banged around the frothy WATER as it quickly RISES. Now only inches from the ceiling. Trapped. They're about to drown. Finnegan keeps looking around, trying to figure a way out. TRILLIAN I was so goddamn close, Finnegan! So goddamn close to my island... I could almost taste the sand... FINNEGAN Keep tasting... Finnegan shoves the pulse rifle to the ceiling. And blasts away until part of the ceiling falls out and into the water. There's just enough room between two metal beams to get out. The rising WATER SHOVES them up through the hole. CUT TO: 116 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 116 Side-by-side, Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through waist-high water. They round a corner and look back -- INKY FORMS SLOSH around the corner. Heading right for them. They slog faster. PANTUCCI They're catchin' up! They're catchin' up! We gotta slow 'em down! HANOVER Feed them. That'll slow them down. A black STRIATED MUSCLE ROILS out of the foamy water, then quickly VANISHES under it, heading straight for them. PANTUCCI Feed 'em?!! Okay! All right! Feed 'em what? WHAT ARE WE GONNA FEED 'EM?! Hanover takes his pistol and SHOOTS Pantucci in the leg, BLAM! Pantucci SCREAMS. FALLS into the water. Hanover RUNS on. Pantucci doesn't even have time to deal with the pain. He starts SCRAMBLING through the water. UNDERWATER, the INKY FORMS RACE AFTER HIM. Only meters away. Pantucci throws himself into the opening of a dumbwaiter. SLAMS the DOOR SHUT. The TENTACLE ATTACKS the door. WORMING its way across the surface, trying to find a way inside. Pantucci is scared beyond his pain. Pushing back as far as he can against the rear wall, he sees the control button. He presses the up arrow. The dumbwaiter starts to move. CUT TO: 117 FUJI MARU REAR DECK - DAY 117 The Saipan is still bobbing behind the Fuji Maru. But the HARPOON HOOK, which holds the tow-line and is embedded into the rear deck of the ship, is starting to PRY LOOSE. It JERKS and BUCKS against the metal wall. Canton doesn't notice this as he slips and slides his way up to the railing. He sees the Saipan and smiles. Then he looks off at -- 118 ISLAND 118 rising out of the ocean. About a mile away. Canton starts to climb over the railing. And that's when the HARPOON HOOK RIPS FREE. WHIZZES FORWARD. And IMPALES Canton's LEG. He SCREAMS. Tries to spin free. The hook hangs onto his leg for a long, agonizing BEAT as Canton continues to SCREAM. Then the HOOK RIPS FREE, grabs the METAL RAILING and starts TEARING IT off the deck. Canton drops to the deck, holding his leg and whimpering in pain. And then he sees it -- 119 SPEEDBOAT 119 dangling from its harness down on the watersports platform. 120 TO SCENE 120 Canton starts to crawl for it. Moaning and bleeding. CUT TO: 121 CRYSTAL POOL DECK - NIGHT 121 Finnegan and Trillian race up onto the pool deck. Passing beneath a colorful NEON SIGN which READS: "THE FUJI MARU - YOUR FUN SHIP" In the dark, Trillian trips. She falls to the slippery, waterlogged deck, and SCREAMS... TRILLIAN EEEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH! ...clawing at her face... Finnegan pulls her hands from her face...and the thing that attached itself there...a small squid from the shattered aquarium. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) (freaked) Ah...ah...ah... Tries to catch her breath. FINNEGAN It's OK...it's not one of them... it's from the aquarium...it's... And then it dawns on Finnegan. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's not them...it's it... TRILLIAN What? FINNEGAN You know what kind of force it took to rip open the bow of this ship? A million little things like this... He holds up the squid. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...can't exert that kind of pressure... And the way it tracked us? A million little things don't carry portable phones to coordinate positions... What's chasing us... it's one...thing...one giant... thing. SMASH CUT TO: 122 ARIAL POV - MATTE FX SHOT - NIGHT 122 ...looking down on the Fuji Maru from high up in the air. Beneath the ENTIRE SHIP is an enormous, undulating BLACK SHADOW. A massive monster from the deep. CUT TO: 123 CASINO - NIGHT 123 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH. The CLAXTON RINGS. Off to one side of a wall, behind the bar, the dumbwaiter door opens, and Pantucci tumbles out, looks around, and then hears... HANOVER (V.O.) Help!! Help!! Pantucci limps around the bar, down a row of one armed bandits... rounds a corner, comes face-to-face with Hanover. Hanover's eyes are filled with terror and despair. His face is badly constricted. His body paralyzed. He clings to a black-jack table as a Tentacle-Sac drinks its way up his leg. It's already to his hip. He grasps desperately for his pistol, just beyond his reach on the floor. This guy ain't gonna survive. PANTUCCI YELPS and quickly back away, eyes wide, totally tense. He looks around, sees that there's only one Tentacle, and it's completely occupied with devouring Hanover. Pantucci is wigged, but manages to lock eyes with Hanover. Then he looks at the Sac, filled with regurgitated flesh. PANTUCCI ...even you don't deserve this. Pantucci picks up Hanover's pistol. Then slowly, cautiously, he creeps forward, and sticks the gun into Hanover's TWITCHING HAND. PANTUCCI (CONT'D) I'm sorry man... He turns and quickly limps off. Hanover's EYES look down at the gun in his hand. Then, with all the strength he has left, he slowly, painfully, turns the pistol so it points at his head. CLOSE ON: Hanover's trembling FINGER. As it slowly squeezes the trigger. He want to kill himself. Needs to hill himself. He squeezes harder. The TRIGGER DEPRESSES! -- CLICK! The gun is empty. Hanover's mouth opens in a horrible, silent scream. CUT TO: 124 REAR DECK - SAME TIME 124 Finnegan and Trillian race out onto the rear deck just as the HARPOON HOOK finishes TEARING the railing off the ship. The HOOK, the TOW- LINE, and the ENTIRE RAILING DROP over the side and fall OUT OF SIGHT. The TWO BOATS are now UNCOUPLED. Finnegan reels at the rain soaked sky. FINNEGAN Will somebody give me a break here? And that's when Finnegan and Trillian hear the SOUND of a HYDRAULIC HOIST. They look over -- 125 AT THE WATERSPORTS PLATFORM: 125 The speedboat is being hydraulically lowered into the water. Canton sits inside, fiddling with the ignition. ANGLE ON: Trillian and Finnegan racing down the spiral stairs leading to the watersports platform. TRILLIAN Wait! Stop! The boat touches down into the water. CANTON I'd like to but I have an appointment with my insurance broker! He HITS the HOIST-RELEASE BUTTON. The speedboat breaks free. Canton HITS the IGNITION. The boat's ENGINE ROARS. CANTON (CONT'D) Life takes the damndest turns, doesn't it? He red-lines the THROTTLE. The SPEEDBOAT HAULS ASS away from the cruiseliner. Canton steers for the island. Smiling. ANGLE ON: Trillian IN HER RAGE... TRILLIAN You son of a bitch!! She grabs Finnegan's pulse rifle, hefts it to her shoulder... FINNEGAN Look! He forces her to look in the distance. Their POV. The island. TRILLIAN Oh my god! Oh my god! How do we do it? How do we get there? FINNEGAN Not like him. Finnegan points to the water...and an INKY PSEUDOPOD FORM racing after the speedboat underwater. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's the engine...it can hear the engine...it goes for the loudest sound... The Tentacle quickly picks up speed, going faster and faster, getting closer and closer, stretching further and further. Suddenly, behind them, a METALLIC THRASHING SOUND is HEARD. They turn around and look -- The hook, the tow-line, and the entire railing have dropped down onto the watersports platform and are tangled up around the two jet skis, trying to tear free -- The Saipan is still clinging by its fingernails to the Fuji Maru! Finnegan races over to a WINCH and grabs the winch- line. CUT TO: 126 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 126 Canton, smiling brightly, peers at the approaching island through the speedboat's windscreen. So relieved he sings to himself, from the operetta H.M.S. PINAFORE. CANTON Oh we sail the ocean blue, and our mighty ship's a beauty. We are strong men, yes it's true, and responsive to our duty... When...YANK!!...the SPEEDBOAT is GRABBED from below, practically exploding as it DISINTEGRATES into TWO PIECES. Canton is PROPELLED through the windscreen and onto the hood. CUT TO: 127 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 127 Finnegan struggles to clip the winch-line onto the tow-line, hanging precariously over the edge of the ship, clip in one hand, winch-line in the other. The whole METAL MESS is BUCKING and TWISTING and SCREECHING. His every joint is being ripped out of socket as he strains to get the clip on the line before the entire rig tears away into the sea. With one last heroic effort of will and grit, he snaps the clip in place just as it all BREAKS LOOSE. One of the JET SKIS and the ENTIRE RAILING are RIPPED over the side and fall down into the ocean. Finnegan is also YANKED over the side, but he manages to hold on by his fingers, dangling precariously. FINNEGAN Hit it! Hit it! The HOOK and the TOW-LINE drop -- then SNAP TAUGHT as the winch-line holds them tight. Trillian throws the start lever on the winch. The WINCH KICKS ON and starts reeling in the Saipan. Finnegan tries to crawl up on the deck, exhausted. Trillian reaches down and pulls him the rest of the way up. He half collapses on top of her. TRILLIAN You know, Finnegan, I'm starting to believe what you said about you not being born to die on a luxury liner. Despite the grimness of their position, the closeness of their bodies is...a turn on...to both of them...and then a SCREAM from the sea. They look in the direction of... CUT TO: 128 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 128 Canton is pinned to the hood of the speedboat, his face shredded by glass, his leg mangled, screaming as his panicked eyes watch a TENTACLE slowly squirm across the hood toward him, it's hideous feelers writhe and arch. Canton backs away from it as far as he can. Another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up next to him. Canton crawls away from that one. Its Feelers and Suckers unsheathe, dripping mucus. Canton's eyes widen, horrified. Then another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up. Canton crawls to the center of the hood. And another TENTACLE. Canton has nowhere to go. The Tentacles close in on him. CANTON No! No! No! All the tentacles rise over him, about to descend. CANTON (CONT'D) NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! CUT TO: 129 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 129 Finnegan and Trillian race for all they are worth, clamber over the side of the Fuji Maru, dropping to the deck of the Saipan. CUT TO: 130 SAIPAN - NIGHT 130 Finnegan and Trillian slowly clamber through the hold, waist deep in water, on edge, eyes wide, watching for any sign of trouble. It's quiet in here. Maybe too quiet. TRILLIAN (quietly) Finnegan... FINNEGAN Yeah... TRILLIAN ...the minute you start your engines ...it's going to kill us, isn't it? They step up to one of the big CRATES. Finnegan starts SMASHING it with the butt of his pulse-rifle. The CRATE BURST OPEN. REVEALING the WARHEAD of the torpedo. Trillian is stunned. FINNEGAN Not unless we kill it first. Finnegan SMASHES more of the CRATE, it falls apart, REVEALING the entire torpedo. He hands her his pulse rifle. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) Anything moves, you shoot. Finnegan starts to yank open the top plates of the missile head. Trillian looks around nervously. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) There's not much horsepower left in the engines, but there's enough noise...once this baby's set...I'll rev it up...that slimy bastard will come for it like candy... TRILLIAN If you blow up your boat, how are we going to get to the island? FINNEGAN Jet ski...there's one left up there. The plate comes loose. Revealing a gaggle of wires, and parts. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...let's see, it was red wire cross compressor blue wire...or blue cross red? He starts to fiddle with the wires. -- Suddenly, there's a LOUD SLOSHING SOUND right behind them! CRATES TOPPLE! More pulse rifles spill out. Trillian spins, ready to blast away with the pulse rifle, to... PANTUCCI Don't shoot!! Don't shoot!! FINNEGAN Just the man I wanted to see. On this puppy here, you remember if it's red to blue or blue to red... He refers to the wires. PANTUCCI Not even a Joey, I'm glad to see you? Joey, what happened to your leg? FINNEGAN Joey, you want to get sucked out by a giant fucking mutated squid? PANTUCCI (fast) Red cross over to blue double blue ...is that what it is? A squid? FINNEGAN Squid...squid like...squid type... it's got tentacles, a feed sac... probably one central nervous processor somewhere...what the hell do I know is going on deep down in the ocean...there's all sorts of shit we've never seen...eighty foot clams...60 foot sharks...I'm just guessing...can you get me more juice out of Hercules...fast? PANTUCCI For juice, I gotta rebuild. That's not fast. TRILLIAN How about noise? Can you get noise? We don't need speed, just noise, right? FINNEGAN Right... PANTUCCI Can somebody tell me what the object of the exercise is here? FINNEGAN Seafood salad. (to Trillian) You ever operate a jet ski? TRILLIAN (nervous) You want ME to go up there? FINNEGAN Not unless you can wire a missile or fix an engine. TRILLIAN And what if I run into one of those things? Finnegan tosses her a pulse rifle from the overturned crate. FINNEGAN Don't forget the safety. She hits the safety, slams a shell into chamber... TRILLIAN Don't take too long...I'm not planning on being on the menu tonight. ...and exits. PANTUCCI (razzing) I've never seen you so congenial with a member of the opposite sex... The two of you got a nice patter going...got a nice rapport... FINNEGAN And you got 10 minutes before this thing livens up a boring evening. Finnegan attaches a wire to a sprocket. A red light starts to blink on the warhead. CUT TO: 131 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 131 It is VERY DARK. The RAIN is getting worse. THUNDER RUMBLES. LIGHTNING FLASHES. The FUJI MARU MOANS and CREAKS. BUBBLES EXPLODE from beneath it. The Saipan rocks against her hull. Trillian clambers along the TILTING RAILING, heading for the watersports platform. Her gorgeous eyes shift nervously. TRILLIAN I'm going to be OK...I'm going to be OK... The ship's METAL HULL SCREECHES. The SEAWATER BUBBLES and GURGLES. From somewhere deep inside the ship, we HEAR that loud primordial YOWL again. Trillian freezes, her heart double beats. She looks around, really scared. CUT TO: 132 SAIPAN'S HOLD - NIGHT 132 The missile is on a hoist being pushed forward by Pantucci and Finnegan toward a GAPING HOLE in the PORT BOW. PANTUCCI You know what I think? I think our luck has just about run shit out... FINNEGAN A little to the left... PANTUCCI I think we gotta stop floating from one fucked up situation to the next... FINNEGAN Line it up now, nice and easy... The missile head is right in line with the hole in the bow. PANTUCCI I'm telling you, man, we got to give the future some serious thought. FINNEGAN I have been. PANTUCCI And what have you come up with? FINNEGAN How does an island sound to you? Pantucci looks at Finnegan quizically. This is news to him. CUT TO: 133 SAIPAN - NIGHT 133 The TIP of the WARHEAD creeps out through the hole. The body of the missile is just a hair too wide, which is good, because it jams itself nice and tight into the hole. CUT TO: 134 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 134 Trillian takes the tarp off the remaining jet ski. Pushes the swivel arm that holds it out over the railing. The PLATFORM TILTS! Trillian loses her balance. Almost goes over the

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FIRE and BUBBLES. Trillian looks around. Scared shitless. The bubbles clear just in time for her to see -- Chin, mouth open, eyes wide, screaming in agony, being ripped past her. She tries to fire her rifle. Too late. Trillian watches as Chin VANISHES down the shaft in a CLOUD OF BUBBLES. CUT TO: 100 KITCHEN - NIGHT 100 TRILLIAN BURSTS to the surface. FINNEGAN YANKS her up and out of the water. FINNEGAN You O.K.? Trillian can only nod, and gasp for breath. Canton and Hanover catch their breath, PANTING AWAY, waterlogged. Hanover reaches over to retrieve the rifle in Trillian's hand. Trillian points the barrel at him, and hits the safety. TRILLIAN (grim) Finders keepers. Mamooli bursts out of the water, falling on the floor, close to panic mode. MAMOOLI Where's Chin? TRILLIAN Gone... MAMOOLI This is not real! This is not bloody real! Finnegan TOPPLES a large, heavy metal BROILER onto the open floor gate, sealing the watery hole in the floor. There are two hatches in this room. The far hatch is closed. Mamooli stands next to an OPEN HATCH. Canton points to it. CANTON Through there...another sixty, seventy yards...there are more elevators there. PANTUCCI I ain't goin' up no more elevators. CANTON There's stairways... Mamooli SLAMS the HATCH SHUT. Eyes bugging out of his head. MAMOOLI I say we stay right here! PANTUCCI Are you crazy? MAMOOLI (desperate) There's plenty of food here. We can hold out...someone'll rescue us... FINNEGAN Who? MAMOOLI Someone...maybe they sent an SOS! PANTUCCI On what? This son of a bitch (to Canton) zapped the communications. HANOVER Mamooli stand down! MAMOOLI We don't even know if his boat is still there...you saw Billy! FINNEGAN Boat or no boat...I'm going... Finnegan steps forward. Mamooli aims his rifle right at Finnegan's head. MAMOOLI They're wipin' us out one at a time. I say we make a stand. Right here! Right now! Maximum firepower! PANTUCCI Somebody shoot this jerk! FINNEGAN (calm) Nobody's shooting nobody...come on, just let us through the hatch! MAMOOLI I'll kill you!! I'll fucking kill you!! I'll do it! I'll do it! I'm not playin' around here! Finnegan freezes. CLOSE ON: The hatch. As a BLACK LIQUID starts to OOZE through a tiny latch-hole. No one sees it. FINNEGAN I once saw a guy put a fish in a bottle, then he corked it, sealing it tight, and threw it to a baby octopus. The little sucker felt its way around that bottle, and in less than two minutes, got that cork off, slid inside, and ate that fish. MAMOOLI What the hell are you talking about? FINNEGAN Us...I'm talking about us... We're the fish. The LIQUID SHADOW OOZES down and hits the floor, starts to EXPAND, filling like a water balloon. It's not a liquid. It's a Tentacle. VEINS, FEELERS and SUCKERS begin to form. MAMOOLI And what? These things are octopuses FINNEGAN I don't know what these things are ...all I know is... The TENTACLE slowly RISES UP right behind Mamooli. Inches behind his head. Finnegan and Hanover see it. Eyes widening. MAMOOLI What...? What?? Mamooli turns to the tentacle looming over him, about to strike. MAMOOLI (CONT'D) EEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH!!!! He opens fire, emptying his clip into the tentacle. The tentacle retreats into the pipes. Mamooli looks around. The room is empty. He runs out. CUT TO: 101 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 101 Mamooli rushes into the empty passageway, looks left. Then right. His POV. Down the hall another TENTACLE comes racing at him. Mamooli panics, drops his rifle. TRACK WITH Mamooli racing down the hallway, looking over his shoulder in fear, as the tentacle comes racing after him...gaining...gaining... almost on him... Mamooli leaps through an open hatch, and swings it shut in one swift motion. The tentacle slams into the glass portal. Stopped. Mamooli keeps his eye on the portal, and backs up two steps. He lets out a long deep breath of relief, turns... WHAM!!! Another tentacle envelops his face! MAMOOLI EEEYYYAAAHHHH!!!!! CUT TO: 102 MECHANICAL CHAMBER - NIGHT 102 Dante's Inferno: STEAM, SMOKE, FIRE, STRANGE NOISES, DARK AREAS, and lots of MOVING ENGINE PARTS. Finnegan leads, followed by Trillian, Hanover, Pantucci, and Canton. We can HEAR their HEARTS BEATING. Scary shit. Finnegan heads for a open HATCH. It suddenly SLAMS SHUT. He instantly VEERS down another passageway. PANTUCCI What the hell is going on!! Finnegan heads for another open HATCHWAY. It also SLAMS SHUT. FINNEGAN They're herding us. Finnegan and company keep going. HANOVER What are you talking about? As they round a corner, the CEILING IMPLODES right in front of them. PIPES and OTHER MATTER CRASH down. Cutting them off. Leaving only one route open...a slim passageway. FINNEGAN Like cattle... TRILLIAN You're saying they can think? FINNEGAN I'm saying they're calling the shots... Finnegan heads toward the passageway. CANTON Do we have to go there? The ceiling left above them begins to torque, and splits. The answer is plain. Everyone runs into the passage just as the ceiling comes down. CUT TO: 103 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 103 Finnegan leads them single-file, they quickly head into a SHAKING narrow void. Fear has led to silence, and unbearable tension. The walls on either side creak, and moan with strange noises. CUT TO: 104 MID-HULL - NIGHT 104 Finnegan quickly comes out of the CREAKING, MOANING GANGWAY, followed by the others. All the STRANGE NOISES suddenly STOP. Everything gets quiet. Finnegan freezes. Something's wrong. Everybody looks around. STEAM SHOOTS OUT from multiple pipes. The air is thick with MIST. TRILLIAN What's the matter? FINNEGAN The quiet... HANOVER Maybe we lost them. FINNEGAN Or maybe we're exactly where they want us to be. Finnegan moves on. The others follow. Guns out front. TENSE. They round a huge metal pillar and come face-to-face with a soul-wrenching nightmare. The CREATURES' NEST -- OR STOMACH. Across a small portion of the ship's midsection, is a huge GELATINOUS WOMB. Imagine a massive thick wall of clear-yellow JELL-O, with hundreds of BLUE VEINS running through it. If it weren't all so horrific, it would be considered beautiful. Inside the womb, A DOZEN HUMANS, passengers, float around in some kind of twisted embryonic state, the living dead. They all seem to be breathing the gelatin. Several TENTACLES WRIGGLE through the stuff; which divides and re forms in some sort of strange mitosis. Finnegan and the others look at the passengers, horrified. But even more horrifying is that the people can look back at them. Many start to reach out, seemingly in slow motion as their hands ooze through the thick gelatin. Trillian looks sick, trembles in fear. TRILLIAN What is it? FINNEGAN A meat locker. TRILLIAN We can't just leave them here. Canton looks like he's about to throw up, he starts backing away, heading for a side hatch. CANTON I can. In the womb, a Tentacle suddenly approaches a sexy young LADY. The Lady tries to back-pedal away, but because of the gelatin, it's like one of those nightmares where you can only move in slow motion. The FEELERS GRIP her naked thigh. She tries to scream, but her face is already starting to constrict, her whole body is being paralyzed. Pantucci is so horrified he's about to cry. PANTUCCI Oh no...oh God please no. The TENTACLE-SAC gloms onto the Lady's forehead. THROUGH THE SAC we can SEE her SKIN MELTING. The only thing she can move are her EYES, which are bugging-out in absolute horror as she is imbibed alive. Our heroes are frozen in fear. Until the Lady's EYES LIQUEFY. Trillian burries her head in Finnegan's shoulder, trying to shut out the horror. FINNEGAN We can't do anything for them... Let's go... He begins to lead her toward the hatch...when her eyes recognized the old lady with the orchid in her hair. The old lady seems to see her too. Her hands read out, IMPLORING. Her mouth silently shapes the words: HELP ME! Just as a tentacle comes creeping toward her. TRILLIAN NOOO!! Her rage rises. She hefts her rifle, and starts blasting away. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) You won't get her!! You won't!! Spitting FLAMES and SMOKE. The BULLETS IMPACT the gelatin. BLASTING IT AWAY. But the bullets only manage to go about twenty feet into the thick shit before gliding to a stop. GELATIN EXPLODES all over the place. TRACER HOLES STREAK through the stuff. But all the bullets are sliding short. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) Finnegan...do something!! Please!! Finnegan looks around and spots the place in the ceiling where most of the Tentacles are coming from. Their long TAILS WIGGLE down from a massive clutter of pipes. A bas-relief of horror. Finnegan reaches over and yanks two thermite grenades off Hanover's utility belt. HANOVER Finnegan, No!!! ...bites the pins and spits them out. FINNEGAN Eat this. He chucks the grenades up into the strange WRITHING FRESCO, safely clear of the passengers. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) FIRE IN THE HOLE! Pantucci and Hanover throw themselves to the floor. Finnegan pulls Trillian down, covering her. BA-WOOM! GELATIN SPRAYS EVERYWHERE. CUT TO: 105 FUJI MARU - SAME TIME 105 A loud, creepy, suction-like SOUND is HEARD, that strange pitter- patter of little feet running across the hull. Then the HULL begins to MOAN and CREAK from an UNSEEN PRESSURE. CUT TO: 106 MID HULL - NIGHT 106 All the MOVEMENT STOPS. The remaining TENTACLES VANISH into the machinery. Pantucci, and Hanover look up from the floor, covered in slime. Finnegan and Trillian also look up...and then look at each other face to face...inches apart. Dripping with slime. FINNEGAN Looking good... TRILLIAN You should talk... Then the machinery shuts down. The engines go dead. ALL SOUND CUTS OUT. An expectant hush. Somewhere, WATER DRIPS... WE GO EXTREMELY CLOSE ON Trillian's EYES. Pantucci's EYES. Hanover's EYES. Finnegan's EYES. The air is riddled with ominous expectation. And that's when the HULL BEGINS TO TORQUE. RIVETS POP and SNAP. WATER SPRAYS. METAL BUCKLES. 107 SHOT: 107 At the far end of the ship, part of the LOWER BOW RIPS OPEN! AND A WALL OF WATER RUSHES IN. FLOOD CITY! Finnegan's eyes widen as he sees (MODEL SHOT) the massive WAVE OF WATER CRASHING TOWARDS THEM. RIPPING OUT PIPES, DUCTS, WALLS, EQUIPMENT and EVERYTHING in front of it. FINNEGAN GO! GO! GO! They all hightail it for hatches. Finnegan and Trillian make it into one hatch. Hanover and Pantucci make it into another. WATER CRASHES and SPRAYS behind them. CUT TO: 108 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 108 Massive AIR BUBBLES EXPLODE out from under the bow. CUT TO: 109 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 109 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH up and down every passageway. And a CLAXTON RINGS, in accelerating tones, giving a frenetic urgency to ALL OF THE FOLLOWING SCENES: 110 A PASSAGEWAY: 110 WATER BLASTS through a hatch and CHASES Finnegan and Trillian down a passageway. They jag left at an intersection -- WATER BLASTS through the hatch directly in front of them. FINNEGAN We're going to sink! We've got to get on deck! They backtrack. Trillian's now in the lead. They HAUL ASS down a hallway. WATER ROARING IN from everywhere behind them. All of the watertight HATCHES begin to hydraulically CLOSE. Trillian and Finnegan JAG into a hatch. It's a small room. The hatch in front of them closes. WATER BLASTS in behind them. SWEEPS them off their feet. The ROOM quickly starts to FILL UP. Trillian pulls frantically at the hatch. CUT TO: 111 NARROW PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 111 Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through knee-high water. Pantucci stumbles into the water, frantically scrambles up. He looks back -- UNDER THE WATER, INKY FORMS hurl themselves down the passageway right towards him. Pantucci YELPS, and splashes away. CUT TO: 112 SUBMERGING ROOM - NIGHT 112 Trillian and Finnegan pull with all their might on a tiny portal. Finnegan tries to insert the blade of his knife in the crack. TRILLIAN So how do you get from the Bronx to the South China sea? FINNEGAN You quit high school, lie about your age, join the navy, and next thing you know, four years are up and you need a way to make a living... The knife blade slips into the crack. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) I'll break the seal! Pull. He yanks the blade. Trillian pulls. The seal pops. The portal flies open. Waist-high in water, Trillian sticks her arm out, tries to get her shoulder out, but there's no chance in hell of that. TRILLIAN Too small! She pulls her arm out. And a TENTACLE LUNGES IN. Just missing Trillian. It SPLASHES under the water. GRABS Finnegan's ankle. Pulls him under. FINNEGAN sticks the barrel of his gun underwater and OPENS FIRE. WATER EXPLODES. The Tentacle recoils. And rips itself back out the porthole. Trillian SLAMS the PORTHOLE SHUT and dogs it tight. The WATER QUICKLY RISES. CUT TO: 113 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 113 Pantucci and Hanover hauling ass. Hanover pulls out his last two Thermite grenades. Pantucci panics and grabs for them. PANTUCCI Gimme one! Gimme one! He knocks both of them out of Hanover's hands. They DISAPPEAR under the water. HANOVER You idiot! They quickly fumble around in the water, trying to find them. A TENTACLE BLASTS around the corner. Partially obscured by the wave in front of it. Heading right for them. Hanover finds the two grenades. Gives one to Pantucci. They rip the pins out and toss the grenades behind them. Then HAUL ASS faster. The Tentacle right behind them. A BEAT. And then the GRENADES EXPLODE, BA-WOOM! BA-WOOM! CUT TO: 114 FUJI MARY - NIGHT 114 The storm hammers the deck. Canton staggers out onto the RAIN SLICKED DECK just in time to see -- A HOLE BEING BLOWN OUT the side of the Fuji Maru's HULL. BUBBLES continue to EXPLODE OUT from under the bow. CANTON Oh my God, it's going to sink. Then slowly, Canton gets a gleam in his eye, now thrilled. CANTON (CONT'D) It's going to sink. CUT TO: 115 SUBMERGED ROOM - NIGHT 115 Finnegan and Trillian are getting banged around the frothy WATER as it quickly RISES. Now only inches from the ceiling. Trapped. They're about to drown. Finnegan keeps looking around, trying to figure a way out. TRILLIAN I was so goddamn close, Finnegan! So goddamn close to my island... I could almost taste the sand... FINNEGAN Keep tasting... Finnegan shoves the pulse rifle to the ceiling. And blasts away until part of the ceiling falls out and into the water. There's just enough room between two metal beams to get out. The rising WATER SHOVES them up through the hole. CUT TO: 116 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 116 Side-by-side, Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through waist-high water. They round a corner and look back -- INKY FORMS SLOSH around the corner. Heading right for them. They slog faster. PANTUCCI They're catchin' up! They're catchin' up! We gotta slow 'em down! HANOVER Feed them. That'll slow them down. A black STRIATED MUSCLE ROILS out of the foamy water, then quickly VANISHES under it, heading straight for them. PANTUCCI Feed 'em?!! Okay! All right! Feed 'em what? WHAT ARE WE GONNA FEED 'EM?! Hanover takes his pistol and SHOOTS Pantucci in the leg, BLAM! Pantucci SCREAMS. FALLS into the water. Hanover RUNS on. Pantucci doesn't even have time to deal with the pain. He starts SCRAMBLING through the water. UNDERWATER, the INKY FORMS RACE AFTER HIM. Only meters away. Pantucci throws himself into the opening of a dumbwaiter. SLAMS the DOOR SHUT. The TENTACLE ATTACKS the door. WORMING its way across the surface, trying to find a way inside. Pantucci is scared beyond his pain. Pushing back as far as he can against the rear wall, he sees the control button. He presses the up arrow. The dumbwaiter starts to move. CUT TO: 117 FUJI MARU REAR DECK - DAY 117 The Saipan is still bobbing behind the Fuji Maru. But the HARPOON HOOK, which holds the tow-line and is embedded into the rear deck of the ship, is starting to PRY LOOSE. It JERKS and BUCKS against the metal wall. Canton doesn't notice this as he slips and slides his way up to the railing. He sees the Saipan and smiles. Then he looks off at -- 118 ISLAND 118 rising out of the ocean. About a mile away. Canton starts to climb over the railing. And that's when the HARPOON HOOK RIPS FREE. WHIZZES FORWARD. And IMPALES Canton's LEG. He SCREAMS. Tries to spin free. The hook hangs onto his leg for a long, agonizing BEAT as Canton continues to SCREAM. Then the HOOK RIPS FREE, grabs the METAL RAILING and starts TEARING IT off the deck. Canton drops to the deck, holding his leg and whimpering in pain. And then he sees it -- 119 SPEEDBOAT 119 dangling from its harness down on the watersports platform. 120 TO SCENE 120 Canton starts to crawl for it. Moaning and bleeding. CUT TO: 121 CRYSTAL POOL DECK - NIGHT 121 Finnegan and Trillian race up onto the pool deck. Passing beneath a colorful NEON SIGN which READS: "THE FUJI MARU - YOUR FUN SHIP" In the dark, Trillian trips. She falls to the slippery, waterlogged deck, and SCREAMS... TRILLIAN EEEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH! ...clawing at her face... Finnegan pulls her hands from her face...and the thing that attached itself there...a small squid from the shattered aquarium. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) (freaked) Ah...ah...ah... Tries to catch her breath. FINNEGAN It's OK...it's not one of them... it's from the aquarium...it's... And then it dawns on Finnegan. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's not them...it's it... TRILLIAN What? FINNEGAN You know what kind of force it took to rip open the bow of this ship? A million little things like this... He holds up the squid. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...can't exert that kind of pressure... And the way it tracked us? A million little things don't carry portable phones to coordinate positions... What's chasing us... it's one...thing...one giant... thing. SMASH CUT TO: 122 ARIAL POV - MATTE FX SHOT - NIGHT 122 ...looking down on the Fuji Maru from high up in the air. Beneath the ENTIRE SHIP is an enormous, undulating BLACK SHADOW. A massive monster from the deep. CUT TO: 123 CASINO - NIGHT 123 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH. The CLAXTON RINGS. Off to one side of a wall, behind the bar, the dumbwaiter door opens, and Pantucci tumbles out, looks around, and then hears... HANOVER (V.O.) Help!! Help!! Pantucci limps around the bar, down a row of one armed bandits... rounds a corner, comes face-to-face with Hanover. Hanover's eyes are filled with terror and despair. His face is badly constricted. His body paralyzed. He clings to a black-jack table as a Tentacle-Sac drinks its way up his leg. It's already to his hip. He grasps desperately for his pistol, just beyond his reach on the floor. This guy ain't gonna survive. PANTUCCI YELPS and quickly back away, eyes wide, totally tense. He looks around, sees that there's only one Tentacle, and it's completely occupied with devouring Hanover. Pantucci is wigged, but manages to lock eyes with Hanover. Then he looks at the Sac, filled with regurgitated flesh. PANTUCCI ...even you don't deserve this. Pantucci picks up Hanover's pistol. Then slowly, cautiously, he creeps forward, and sticks the gun into Hanover's TWITCHING HAND. PANTUCCI (CONT'D) I'm sorry man... He turns and quickly limps off. Hanover's EYES look down at the gun in his hand. Then, with all the strength he has left, he slowly, painfully, turns the pistol so it points at his head. CLOSE ON: Hanover's trembling FINGER. As it slowly squeezes the trigger. He want to kill himself. Needs to hill himself. He squeezes harder. The TRIGGER DEPRESSES! -- CLICK! The gun is empty. Hanover's mouth opens in a horrible, silent scream. CUT TO: 124 REAR DECK - SAME TIME 124 Finnegan and Trillian race out onto the rear deck just as the HARPOON HOOK finishes TEARING the railing off the ship. The HOOK, the TOW- LINE, and the ENTIRE RAILING DROP over the side and fall OUT OF SIGHT. The TWO BOATS are now UNCOUPLED. Finnegan reels at the rain soaked sky. FINNEGAN Will somebody give me a break here? And that's when Finnegan and Trillian hear the SOUND of a HYDRAULIC HOIST. They look over -- 125 AT THE WATERSPORTS PLATFORM: 125 The speedboat is being hydraulically lowered into the water. Canton sits inside, fiddling with the ignition. ANGLE ON: Trillian and Finnegan racing down the spiral stairs leading to the watersports platform. TRILLIAN Wait! Stop! The boat touches down into the water. CANTON I'd like to but I have an appointment with my insurance broker! He HITS the HOIST-RELEASE BUTTON. The speedboat breaks free. Canton HITS the IGNITION. The boat's ENGINE ROARS. CANTON (CONT'D) Life takes the damndest turns, doesn't it? He red-lines the THROTTLE. The SPEEDBOAT HAULS ASS away from the cruiseliner. Canton steers for the island. Smiling. ANGLE ON: Trillian IN HER RAGE... TRILLIAN You son of a bitch!! She grabs Finnegan's pulse rifle, hefts it to her shoulder... FINNEGAN Look! He forces her to look in the distance. Their POV. The island. TRILLIAN Oh my god! Oh my god! How do we do it? How do we get there? FINNEGAN Not like him. Finnegan points to the water...and an INKY PSEUDOPOD FORM racing after the speedboat underwater. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's the engine...it can hear the engine...it goes for the loudest sound... The Tentacle quickly picks up speed, going faster and faster, getting closer and closer, stretching further and further. Suddenly, behind them, a METALLIC THRASHING SOUND is HEARD. They turn around and look -- The hook, the tow-line, and the entire railing have dropped down onto the watersports platform and are tangled up around the two jet skis, trying to tear free -- The Saipan is still clinging by its fingernails to the Fuji Maru! Finnegan races over to a WINCH and grabs the winch- line. CUT TO: 126 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 126 Canton, smiling brightly, peers at the approaching island through the speedboat's windscreen. So relieved he sings to himself, from the operetta H.M.S. PINAFORE. CANTON Oh we sail the ocean blue, and our mighty ship's a beauty. We are strong men, yes it's true, and responsive to our duty... When...YANK!!...the SPEEDBOAT is GRABBED from below, practically exploding as it DISINTEGRATES into TWO PIECES. Canton is PROPELLED through the windscreen and onto the hood. CUT TO: 127 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 127 Finnegan struggles to clip the winch-line onto the tow-line, hanging precariously over the edge of the ship, clip in one hand, winch-line in the other. The whole METAL MESS is BUCKING and TWISTING and SCREECHING. His every joint is being ripped out of socket as he strains to get the clip on the line before the entire rig tears away into the sea. With one last heroic effort of will and grit, he snaps the clip in place just as it all BREAKS LOOSE. One of the JET SKIS and the ENTIRE RAILING are RIPPED over the side and fall down into the ocean. Finnegan is also YANKED over the side, but he manages to hold on by his fingers, dangling precariously. FINNEGAN Hit it! Hit it! The HOOK and the TOW-LINE drop -- then SNAP TAUGHT as the winch-line holds them tight. Trillian throws the start lever on the winch. The WINCH KICKS ON and starts reeling in the Saipan. Finnegan tries to crawl up on the deck, exhausted. Trillian reaches down and pulls him the rest of the way up. He half collapses on top of her. TRILLIAN You know, Finnegan, I'm starting to believe what you said about you not being born to die on a luxury liner. Despite the grimness of their position, the closeness of their bodies is...a turn on...to both of them...and then a SCREAM from the sea. They look in the direction of... CUT TO: 128 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 128 Canton is pinned to the hood of the speedboat, his face shredded by glass, his leg mangled, screaming as his panicked eyes watch a TENTACLE slowly squirm across the hood toward him, it's hideous feelers writhe and arch. Canton backs away from it as far as he can. Another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up next to him. Canton crawls away from that one. Its Feelers and Suckers unsheathe, dripping mucus. Canton's eyes widen, horrified. Then another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up. Canton crawls to the center of the hood. And another TENTACLE. Canton has nowhere to go. The Tentacles close in on him. CANTON No! No! No! All the tentacles rise over him, about to descend. CANTON (CONT'D) NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! CUT TO: 129 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 129 Finnegan and Trillian race for all they are worth, clamber over the side of the Fuji Maru, dropping to the deck of the Saipan. CUT TO: 130 SAIPAN - NIGHT 130 Finnegan and Trillian slowly clamber through the hold, waist deep in water, on edge, eyes wide, watching for any sign of trouble. It's quiet in here. Maybe too quiet. TRILLIAN (quietly) Finnegan... FINNEGAN Yeah... TRILLIAN ...the minute you start your engines ...it's going to kill us, isn't it? They step up to one of the big CRATES. Finnegan starts SMASHING it with the butt of his pulse-rifle. The CRATE BURST OPEN. REVEALING the WARHEAD of the torpedo. Trillian is stunned. FINNEGAN Not unless we kill it first. Finnegan SMASHES more of the CRATE, it falls apart, REVEALING the entire torpedo. He hands her his pulse rifle. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) Anything moves, you shoot. Finnegan starts to yank open the top plates of the missile head. Trillian looks around nervously. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) There's not much horsepower left in the engines, but there's enough noise...once this baby's set...I'll rev it up...that slimy bastard will come for it like candy... TRILLIAN If you blow up your boat, how are we going to get to the island? FINNEGAN Jet ski...there's one left up there. The plate comes loose. Revealing a gaggle of wires, and parts. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...let's see, it was red wire cross compressor blue wire...or blue cross red? He starts to fiddle with the wires. -- Suddenly, there's a LOUD SLOSHING SOUND right behind them! CRATES TOPPLE! More pulse rifles spill out. Trillian spins, ready to blast away with the pulse rifle, to... PANTUCCI Don't shoot!! Don't shoot!! FINNEGAN Just the man I wanted to see. On this puppy here, you remember if it's red to blue or blue to red... He refers to the wires. PANTUCCI Not even a Joey, I'm glad to see you? Joey, what happened to your leg? FINNEGAN Joey, you want to get sucked out by a giant fucking mutated squid? PANTUCCI (fast) Red cross over to blue double blue ...is that what it is? A squid? FINNEGAN Squid...squid like...squid type... it's got tentacles, a feed sac... probably one central nervous processor somewhere...what the hell do I know is going on deep down in the ocean...there's all sorts of shit we've never seen...eighty foot clams...60 foot sharks...I'm just guessing...can you get me more juice out of Hercules...fast? PANTUCCI For juice, I gotta rebuild. That's not fast. TRILLIAN How about noise? Can you get noise? We don't need speed, just noise, right? FINNEGAN Right... PANTUCCI Can somebody tell me what the object of the exercise is here? FINNEGAN Seafood salad. (to Trillian) You ever operate a jet ski? TRILLIAN (nervous) You want ME to go up there? FINNEGAN Not unless you can wire a missile or fix an engine. TRILLIAN And what if I run into one of those things? Finnegan tosses her a pulse rifle from the overturned crate. FINNEGAN Don't forget the safety. She hits the safety, slams a shell into chamber... TRILLIAN Don't take too long...I'm not planning on being on the menu tonight. ...and exits. PANTUCCI (razzing) I've never seen you so congenial with a member of the opposite sex... The two of you got a nice patter going...got a nice rapport... FINNEGAN And you got 10 minutes before this thing livens up a boring evening. Finnegan attaches a wire to a sprocket. A red light starts to blink on the warhead. CUT TO: 131 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 131 It is VERY DARK. The RAIN is getting worse. THUNDER RUMBLES. LIGHTNING FLASHES. The FUJI MARU MOANS and CREAKS. BUBBLES EXPLODE from beneath it. The Saipan rocks against her hull. Trillian clambers along the TILTING RAILING, heading for the watersports platform. Her gorgeous eyes shift nervously. TRILLIAN I'm going to be OK...I'm going to be OK... The ship's METAL HULL SCREECHES. The SEAWATER BUBBLES and GURGLES. From somewhere deep inside the ship, we HEAR that loud primordial YOWL again. Trillian freezes, her heart double beats. She looks around, really scared. CUT TO: 132 SAIPAN'S HOLD - NIGHT 132 The missile is on a hoist being pushed forward by Pantucci and Finnegan toward a GAPING HOLE in the PORT BOW. PANTUCCI You know what I think? I think our luck has just about run shit out... FINNEGAN A little to the left... PANTUCCI I think we gotta stop floating from one fucked up situation to the next... FINNEGAN Line it up now, nice and easy... The missile head is right in line with the hole in the bow. PANTUCCI I'm telling you, man, we got to give the future some serious thought. FINNEGAN I have been. PANTUCCI And what have you come up with? FINNEGAN How does an island sound to you? Pantucci looks at Finnegan quizically. This is news to him. CUT TO: 133 SAIPAN - NIGHT 133 The TIP of the WARHEAD creeps out through the hole. The body of the missile is just a hair too wide, which is good, because it jams itself nice and tight into the hole. CUT TO: 134 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 134 Trillian takes the tarp off the remaining jet ski. Pushes the swivel arm that holds it out over the railing. The PLATFORM TILTS! Trillian loses her balance. Almost goes over the

haul

How many times the word 'haul' appears in the text?

FIRE and BUBBLES. Trillian looks around. Scared shitless. The bubbles clear just in time for her to see -- Chin, mouth open, eyes wide, screaming in agony, being ripped past her. She tries to fire her rifle. Too late. Trillian watches as Chin VANISHES down the shaft in a CLOUD OF BUBBLES. CUT TO: 100 KITCHEN - NIGHT 100 TRILLIAN BURSTS to the surface. FINNEGAN YANKS her up and out of the water. FINNEGAN You O.K.? Trillian can only nod, and gasp for breath. Canton and Hanover catch their breath, PANTING AWAY, waterlogged. Hanover reaches over to retrieve the rifle in Trillian's hand. Trillian points the barrel at him, and hits the safety. TRILLIAN (grim) Finders keepers. Mamooli bursts out of the water, falling on the floor, close to panic mode. MAMOOLI Where's Chin? TRILLIAN Gone... MAMOOLI This is not real! This is not bloody real! Finnegan TOPPLES a large, heavy metal BROILER onto the open floor gate, sealing the watery hole in the floor. There are two hatches in this room. The far hatch is closed. Mamooli stands next to an OPEN HATCH. Canton points to it. CANTON Through there...another sixty, seventy yards...there are more elevators there. PANTUCCI I ain't goin' up no more elevators. CANTON There's stairways... Mamooli SLAMS the HATCH SHUT. Eyes bugging out of his head. MAMOOLI I say we stay right here! PANTUCCI Are you crazy? MAMOOLI (desperate) There's plenty of food here. We can hold out...someone'll rescue us... FINNEGAN Who? MAMOOLI Someone...maybe they sent an SOS! PANTUCCI On what? This son of a bitch (to Canton) zapped the communications. HANOVER Mamooli stand down! MAMOOLI We don't even know if his boat is still there...you saw Billy! FINNEGAN Boat or no boat...I'm going... Finnegan steps forward. Mamooli aims his rifle right at Finnegan's head. MAMOOLI They're wipin' us out one at a time. I say we make a stand. Right here! Right now! Maximum firepower! PANTUCCI Somebody shoot this jerk! FINNEGAN (calm) Nobody's shooting nobody...come on, just let us through the hatch! MAMOOLI I'll kill you!! I'll fucking kill you!! I'll do it! I'll do it! I'm not playin' around here! Finnegan freezes. CLOSE ON: The hatch. As a BLACK LIQUID starts to OOZE through a tiny latch-hole. No one sees it. FINNEGAN I once saw a guy put a fish in a bottle, then he corked it, sealing it tight, and threw it to a baby octopus. The little sucker felt its way around that bottle, and in less than two minutes, got that cork off, slid inside, and ate that fish. MAMOOLI What the hell are you talking about? FINNEGAN Us...I'm talking about us... We're the fish. The LIQUID SHADOW OOZES down and hits the floor, starts to EXPAND, filling like a water balloon. It's not a liquid. It's a Tentacle. VEINS, FEELERS and SUCKERS begin to form. MAMOOLI And what? These things are octopuses FINNEGAN I don't know what these things are ...all I know is... The TENTACLE slowly RISES UP right behind Mamooli. Inches behind his head. Finnegan and Hanover see it. Eyes widening. MAMOOLI What...? What?? Mamooli turns to the tentacle looming over him, about to strike. MAMOOLI (CONT'D) EEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH!!!! He opens fire, emptying his clip into the tentacle. The tentacle retreats into the pipes. Mamooli looks around. The room is empty. He runs out. CUT TO: 101 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 101 Mamooli rushes into the empty passageway, looks left. Then right. His POV. Down the hall another TENTACLE comes racing at him. Mamooli panics, drops his rifle. TRACK WITH Mamooli racing down the hallway, looking over his shoulder in fear, as the tentacle comes racing after him...gaining...gaining... almost on him... Mamooli leaps through an open hatch, and swings it shut in one swift motion. The tentacle slams into the glass portal. Stopped. Mamooli keeps his eye on the portal, and backs up two steps. He lets out a long deep breath of relief, turns... WHAM!!! Another tentacle envelops his face! MAMOOLI EEEYYYAAAHHHH!!!!! CUT TO: 102 MECHANICAL CHAMBER - NIGHT 102 Dante's Inferno: STEAM, SMOKE, FIRE, STRANGE NOISES, DARK AREAS, and lots of MOVING ENGINE PARTS. Finnegan leads, followed by Trillian, Hanover, Pantucci, and Canton. We can HEAR their HEARTS BEATING. Scary shit. Finnegan heads for a open HATCH. It suddenly SLAMS SHUT. He instantly VEERS down another passageway. PANTUCCI What the hell is going on!! Finnegan heads for another open HATCHWAY. It also SLAMS SHUT. FINNEGAN They're herding us. Finnegan and company keep going. HANOVER What are you talking about? As they round a corner, the CEILING IMPLODES right in front of them. PIPES and OTHER MATTER CRASH down. Cutting them off. Leaving only one route open...a slim passageway. FINNEGAN Like cattle... TRILLIAN You're saying they can think? FINNEGAN I'm saying they're calling the shots... Finnegan heads toward the passageway. CANTON Do we have to go there? The ceiling left above them begins to torque, and splits. The answer is plain. Everyone runs into the passage just as the ceiling comes down. CUT TO: 103 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 103 Finnegan leads them single-file, they quickly head into a SHAKING narrow void. Fear has led to silence, and unbearable tension. The walls on either side creak, and moan with strange noises. CUT TO: 104 MID-HULL - NIGHT 104 Finnegan quickly comes out of the CREAKING, MOANING GANGWAY, followed by the others. All the STRANGE NOISES suddenly STOP. Everything gets quiet. Finnegan freezes. Something's wrong. Everybody looks around. STEAM SHOOTS OUT from multiple pipes. The air is thick with MIST. TRILLIAN What's the matter? FINNEGAN The quiet... HANOVER Maybe we lost them. FINNEGAN Or maybe we're exactly where they want us to be. Finnegan moves on. The others follow. Guns out front. TENSE. They round a huge metal pillar and come face-to-face with a soul-wrenching nightmare. The CREATURES' NEST -- OR STOMACH. Across a small portion of the ship's midsection, is a huge GELATINOUS WOMB. Imagine a massive thick wall of clear-yellow JELL-O, with hundreds of BLUE VEINS running through it. If it weren't all so horrific, it would be considered beautiful. Inside the womb, A DOZEN HUMANS, passengers, float around in some kind of twisted embryonic state, the living dead. They all seem to be breathing the gelatin. Several TENTACLES WRIGGLE through the stuff; which divides and re forms in some sort of strange mitosis. Finnegan and the others look at the passengers, horrified. But even more horrifying is that the people can look back at them. Many start to reach out, seemingly in slow motion as their hands ooze through the thick gelatin. Trillian looks sick, trembles in fear. TRILLIAN What is it? FINNEGAN A meat locker. TRILLIAN We can't just leave them here. Canton looks like he's about to throw up, he starts backing away, heading for a side hatch. CANTON I can. In the womb, a Tentacle suddenly approaches a sexy young LADY. The Lady tries to back-pedal away, but because of the gelatin, it's like one of those nightmares where you can only move in slow motion. The FEELERS GRIP her naked thigh. She tries to scream, but her face is already starting to constrict, her whole body is being paralyzed. Pantucci is so horrified he's about to cry. PANTUCCI Oh no...oh God please no. The TENTACLE-SAC gloms onto the Lady's forehead. THROUGH THE SAC we can SEE her SKIN MELTING. The only thing she can move are her EYES, which are bugging-out in absolute horror as she is imbibed alive. Our heroes are frozen in fear. Until the Lady's EYES LIQUEFY. Trillian burries her head in Finnegan's shoulder, trying to shut out the horror. FINNEGAN We can't do anything for them... Let's go... He begins to lead her toward the hatch...when her eyes recognized the old lady with the orchid in her hair. The old lady seems to see her too. Her hands read out, IMPLORING. Her mouth silently shapes the words: HELP ME! Just as a tentacle comes creeping toward her. TRILLIAN NOOO!! Her rage rises. She hefts her rifle, and starts blasting away. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) You won't get her!! You won't!! Spitting FLAMES and SMOKE. The BULLETS IMPACT the gelatin. BLASTING IT AWAY. But the bullets only manage to go about twenty feet into the thick shit before gliding to a stop. GELATIN EXPLODES all over the place. TRACER HOLES STREAK through the stuff. But all the bullets are sliding short. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) Finnegan...do something!! Please!! Finnegan looks around and spots the place in the ceiling where most of the Tentacles are coming from. Their long TAILS WIGGLE down from a massive clutter of pipes. A bas-relief of horror. Finnegan reaches over and yanks two thermite grenades off Hanover's utility belt. HANOVER Finnegan, No!!! ...bites the pins and spits them out. FINNEGAN Eat this. He chucks the grenades up into the strange WRITHING FRESCO, safely clear of the passengers. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) FIRE IN THE HOLE! Pantucci and Hanover throw themselves to the floor. Finnegan pulls Trillian down, covering her. BA-WOOM! GELATIN SPRAYS EVERYWHERE. CUT TO: 105 FUJI MARU - SAME TIME 105 A loud, creepy, suction-like SOUND is HEARD, that strange pitter- patter of little feet running across the hull. Then the HULL begins to MOAN and CREAK from an UNSEEN PRESSURE. CUT TO: 106 MID HULL - NIGHT 106 All the MOVEMENT STOPS. The remaining TENTACLES VANISH into the machinery. Pantucci, and Hanover look up from the floor, covered in slime. Finnegan and Trillian also look up...and then look at each other face to face...inches apart. Dripping with slime. FINNEGAN Looking good... TRILLIAN You should talk... Then the machinery shuts down. The engines go dead. ALL SOUND CUTS OUT. An expectant hush. Somewhere, WATER DRIPS... WE GO EXTREMELY CLOSE ON Trillian's EYES. Pantucci's EYES. Hanover's EYES. Finnegan's EYES. The air is riddled with ominous expectation. And that's when the HULL BEGINS TO TORQUE. RIVETS POP and SNAP. WATER SPRAYS. METAL BUCKLES. 107 SHOT: 107 At the far end of the ship, part of the LOWER BOW RIPS OPEN! AND A WALL OF WATER RUSHES IN. FLOOD CITY! Finnegan's eyes widen as he sees (MODEL SHOT) the massive WAVE OF WATER CRASHING TOWARDS THEM. RIPPING OUT PIPES, DUCTS, WALLS, EQUIPMENT and EVERYTHING in front of it. FINNEGAN GO! GO! GO! They all hightail it for hatches. Finnegan and Trillian make it into one hatch. Hanover and Pantucci make it into another. WATER CRASHES and SPRAYS behind them. CUT TO: 108 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 108 Massive AIR BUBBLES EXPLODE out from under the bow. CUT TO: 109 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 109 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH up and down every passageway. And a CLAXTON RINGS, in accelerating tones, giving a frenetic urgency to ALL OF THE FOLLOWING SCENES: 110 A PASSAGEWAY: 110 WATER BLASTS through a hatch and CHASES Finnegan and Trillian down a passageway. They jag left at an intersection -- WATER BLASTS through the hatch directly in front of them. FINNEGAN We're going to sink! We've got to get on deck! They backtrack. Trillian's now in the lead. They HAUL ASS down a hallway. WATER ROARING IN from everywhere behind them. All of the watertight HATCHES begin to hydraulically CLOSE. Trillian and Finnegan JAG into a hatch. It's a small room. The hatch in front of them closes. WATER BLASTS in behind them. SWEEPS them off their feet. The ROOM quickly starts to FILL UP. Trillian pulls frantically at the hatch. CUT TO: 111 NARROW PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 111 Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through knee-high water. Pantucci stumbles into the water, frantically scrambles up. He looks back -- UNDER THE WATER, INKY FORMS hurl themselves down the passageway right towards him. Pantucci YELPS, and splashes away. CUT TO: 112 SUBMERGING ROOM - NIGHT 112 Trillian and Finnegan pull with all their might on a tiny portal. Finnegan tries to insert the blade of his knife in the crack. TRILLIAN So how do you get from the Bronx to the South China sea? FINNEGAN You quit high school, lie about your age, join the navy, and next thing you know, four years are up and you need a way to make a living... The knife blade slips into the crack. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) I'll break the seal! Pull. He yanks the blade. Trillian pulls. The seal pops. The portal flies open. Waist-high in water, Trillian sticks her arm out, tries to get her shoulder out, but there's no chance in hell of that. TRILLIAN Too small! She pulls her arm out. And a TENTACLE LUNGES IN. Just missing Trillian. It SPLASHES under the water. GRABS Finnegan's ankle. Pulls him under. FINNEGAN sticks the barrel of his gun underwater and OPENS FIRE. WATER EXPLODES. The Tentacle recoils. And rips itself back out the porthole. Trillian SLAMS the PORTHOLE SHUT and dogs it tight. The WATER QUICKLY RISES. CUT TO: 113 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 113 Pantucci and Hanover hauling ass. Hanover pulls out his last two Thermite grenades. Pantucci panics and grabs for them. PANTUCCI Gimme one! Gimme one! He knocks both of them out of Hanover's hands. They DISAPPEAR under the water. HANOVER You idiot! They quickly fumble around in the water, trying to find them. A TENTACLE BLASTS around the corner. Partially obscured by the wave in front of it. Heading right for them. Hanover finds the two grenades. Gives one to Pantucci. They rip the pins out and toss the grenades behind them. Then HAUL ASS faster. The Tentacle right behind them. A BEAT. And then the GRENADES EXPLODE, BA-WOOM! BA-WOOM! CUT TO: 114 FUJI MARY - NIGHT 114 The storm hammers the deck. Canton staggers out onto the RAIN SLICKED DECK just in time to see -- A HOLE BEING BLOWN OUT the side of the Fuji Maru's HULL. BUBBLES continue to EXPLODE OUT from under the bow. CANTON Oh my God, it's going to sink. Then slowly, Canton gets a gleam in his eye, now thrilled. CANTON (CONT'D) It's going to sink. CUT TO: 115 SUBMERGED ROOM - NIGHT 115 Finnegan and Trillian are getting banged around the frothy WATER as it quickly RISES. Now only inches from the ceiling. Trapped. They're about to drown. Finnegan keeps looking around, trying to figure a way out. TRILLIAN I was so goddamn close, Finnegan! So goddamn close to my island... I could almost taste the sand... FINNEGAN Keep tasting... Finnegan shoves the pulse rifle to the ceiling. And blasts away until part of the ceiling falls out and into the water. There's just enough room between two metal beams to get out. The rising WATER SHOVES them up through the hole. CUT TO: 116 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 116 Side-by-side, Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through waist-high water. They round a corner and look back -- INKY FORMS SLOSH around the corner. Heading right for them. They slog faster. PANTUCCI They're catchin' up! They're catchin' up! We gotta slow 'em down! HANOVER Feed them. That'll slow them down. A black STRIATED MUSCLE ROILS out of the foamy water, then quickly VANISHES under it, heading straight for them. PANTUCCI Feed 'em?!! Okay! All right! Feed 'em what? WHAT ARE WE GONNA FEED 'EM?! Hanover takes his pistol and SHOOTS Pantucci in the leg, BLAM! Pantucci SCREAMS. FALLS into the water. Hanover RUNS on. Pantucci doesn't even have time to deal with the pain. He starts SCRAMBLING through the water. UNDERWATER, the INKY FORMS RACE AFTER HIM. Only meters away. Pantucci throws himself into the opening of a dumbwaiter. SLAMS the DOOR SHUT. The TENTACLE ATTACKS the door. WORMING its way across the surface, trying to find a way inside. Pantucci is scared beyond his pain. Pushing back as far as he can against the rear wall, he sees the control button. He presses the up arrow. The dumbwaiter starts to move. CUT TO: 117 FUJI MARU REAR DECK - DAY 117 The Saipan is still bobbing behind the Fuji Maru. But the HARPOON HOOK, which holds the tow-line and is embedded into the rear deck of the ship, is starting to PRY LOOSE. It JERKS and BUCKS against the metal wall. Canton doesn't notice this as he slips and slides his way up to the railing. He sees the Saipan and smiles. Then he looks off at -- 118 ISLAND 118 rising out of the ocean. About a mile away. Canton starts to climb over the railing. And that's when the HARPOON HOOK RIPS FREE. WHIZZES FORWARD. And IMPALES Canton's LEG. He SCREAMS. Tries to spin free. The hook hangs onto his leg for a long, agonizing BEAT as Canton continues to SCREAM. Then the HOOK RIPS FREE, grabs the METAL RAILING and starts TEARING IT off the deck. Canton drops to the deck, holding his leg and whimpering in pain. And then he sees it -- 119 SPEEDBOAT 119 dangling from its harness down on the watersports platform. 120 TO SCENE 120 Canton starts to crawl for it. Moaning and bleeding. CUT TO: 121 CRYSTAL POOL DECK - NIGHT 121 Finnegan and Trillian race up onto the pool deck. Passing beneath a colorful NEON SIGN which READS: "THE FUJI MARU - YOUR FUN SHIP" In the dark, Trillian trips. She falls to the slippery, waterlogged deck, and SCREAMS... TRILLIAN EEEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH! ...clawing at her face... Finnegan pulls her hands from her face...and the thing that attached itself there...a small squid from the shattered aquarium. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) (freaked) Ah...ah...ah... Tries to catch her breath. FINNEGAN It's OK...it's not one of them... it's from the aquarium...it's... And then it dawns on Finnegan. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's not them...it's it... TRILLIAN What? FINNEGAN You know what kind of force it took to rip open the bow of this ship? A million little things like this... He holds up the squid. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...can't exert that kind of pressure... And the way it tracked us? A million little things don't carry portable phones to coordinate positions... What's chasing us... it's one...thing...one giant... thing. SMASH CUT TO: 122 ARIAL POV - MATTE FX SHOT - NIGHT 122 ...looking down on the Fuji Maru from high up in the air. Beneath the ENTIRE SHIP is an enormous, undulating BLACK SHADOW. A massive monster from the deep. CUT TO: 123 CASINO - NIGHT 123 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH. The CLAXTON RINGS. Off to one side of a wall, behind the bar, the dumbwaiter door opens, and Pantucci tumbles out, looks around, and then hears... HANOVER (V.O.) Help!! Help!! Pantucci limps around the bar, down a row of one armed bandits... rounds a corner, comes face-to-face with Hanover. Hanover's eyes are filled with terror and despair. His face is badly constricted. His body paralyzed. He clings to a black-jack table as a Tentacle-Sac drinks its way up his leg. It's already to his hip. He grasps desperately for his pistol, just beyond his reach on the floor. This guy ain't gonna survive. PANTUCCI YELPS and quickly back away, eyes wide, totally tense. He looks around, sees that there's only one Tentacle, and it's completely occupied with devouring Hanover. Pantucci is wigged, but manages to lock eyes with Hanover. Then he looks at the Sac, filled with regurgitated flesh. PANTUCCI ...even you don't deserve this. Pantucci picks up Hanover's pistol. Then slowly, cautiously, he creeps forward, and sticks the gun into Hanover's TWITCHING HAND. PANTUCCI (CONT'D) I'm sorry man... He turns and quickly limps off. Hanover's EYES look down at the gun in his hand. Then, with all the strength he has left, he slowly, painfully, turns the pistol so it points at his head. CLOSE ON: Hanover's trembling FINGER. As it slowly squeezes the trigger. He want to kill himself. Needs to hill himself. He squeezes harder. The TRIGGER DEPRESSES! -- CLICK! The gun is empty. Hanover's mouth opens in a horrible, silent scream. CUT TO: 124 REAR DECK - SAME TIME 124 Finnegan and Trillian race out onto the rear deck just as the HARPOON HOOK finishes TEARING the railing off the ship. The HOOK, the TOW- LINE, and the ENTIRE RAILING DROP over the side and fall OUT OF SIGHT. The TWO BOATS are now UNCOUPLED. Finnegan reels at the rain soaked sky. FINNEGAN Will somebody give me a break here? And that's when Finnegan and Trillian hear the SOUND of a HYDRAULIC HOIST. They look over -- 125 AT THE WATERSPORTS PLATFORM: 125 The speedboat is being hydraulically lowered into the water. Canton sits inside, fiddling with the ignition. ANGLE ON: Trillian and Finnegan racing down the spiral stairs leading to the watersports platform. TRILLIAN Wait! Stop! The boat touches down into the water. CANTON I'd like to but I have an appointment with my insurance broker! He HITS the HOIST-RELEASE BUTTON. The speedboat breaks free. Canton HITS the IGNITION. The boat's ENGINE ROARS. CANTON (CONT'D) Life takes the damndest turns, doesn't it? He red-lines the THROTTLE. The SPEEDBOAT HAULS ASS away from the cruiseliner. Canton steers for the island. Smiling. ANGLE ON: Trillian IN HER RAGE... TRILLIAN You son of a bitch!! She grabs Finnegan's pulse rifle, hefts it to her shoulder... FINNEGAN Look! He forces her to look in the distance. Their POV. The island. TRILLIAN Oh my god! Oh my god! How do we do it? How do we get there? FINNEGAN Not like him. Finnegan points to the water...and an INKY PSEUDOPOD FORM racing after the speedboat underwater. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's the engine...it can hear the engine...it goes for the loudest sound... The Tentacle quickly picks up speed, going faster and faster, getting closer and closer, stretching further and further. Suddenly, behind them, a METALLIC THRASHING SOUND is HEARD. They turn around and look -- The hook, the tow-line, and the entire railing have dropped down onto the watersports platform and are tangled up around the two jet skis, trying to tear free -- The Saipan is still clinging by its fingernails to the Fuji Maru! Finnegan races over to a WINCH and grabs the winch- line. CUT TO: 126 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 126 Canton, smiling brightly, peers at the approaching island through the speedboat's windscreen. So relieved he sings to himself, from the operetta H.M.S. PINAFORE. CANTON Oh we sail the ocean blue, and our mighty ship's a beauty. We are strong men, yes it's true, and responsive to our duty... When...YANK!!...the SPEEDBOAT is GRABBED from below, practically exploding as it DISINTEGRATES into TWO PIECES. Canton is PROPELLED through the windscreen and onto the hood. CUT TO: 127 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 127 Finnegan struggles to clip the winch-line onto the tow-line, hanging precariously over the edge of the ship, clip in one hand, winch-line in the other. The whole METAL MESS is BUCKING and TWISTING and SCREECHING. His every joint is being ripped out of socket as he strains to get the clip on the line before the entire rig tears away into the sea. With one last heroic effort of will and grit, he snaps the clip in place just as it all BREAKS LOOSE. One of the JET SKIS and the ENTIRE RAILING are RIPPED over the side and fall down into the ocean. Finnegan is also YANKED over the side, but he manages to hold on by his fingers, dangling precariously. FINNEGAN Hit it! Hit it! The HOOK and the TOW-LINE drop -- then SNAP TAUGHT as the winch-line holds them tight. Trillian throws the start lever on the winch. The WINCH KICKS ON and starts reeling in the Saipan. Finnegan tries to crawl up on the deck, exhausted. Trillian reaches down and pulls him the rest of the way up. He half collapses on top of her. TRILLIAN You know, Finnegan, I'm starting to believe what you said about you not being born to die on a luxury liner. Despite the grimness of their position, the closeness of their bodies is...a turn on...to both of them...and then a SCREAM from the sea. They look in the direction of... CUT TO: 128 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 128 Canton is pinned to the hood of the speedboat, his face shredded by glass, his leg mangled, screaming as his panicked eyes watch a TENTACLE slowly squirm across the hood toward him, it's hideous feelers writhe and arch. Canton backs away from it as far as he can. Another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up next to him. Canton crawls away from that one. Its Feelers and Suckers unsheathe, dripping mucus. Canton's eyes widen, horrified. Then another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up. Canton crawls to the center of the hood. And another TENTACLE. Canton has nowhere to go. The Tentacles close in on him. CANTON No! No! No! All the tentacles rise over him, about to descend. CANTON (CONT'D) NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! CUT TO: 129 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 129 Finnegan and Trillian race for all they are worth, clamber over the side of the Fuji Maru, dropping to the deck of the Saipan. CUT TO: 130 SAIPAN - NIGHT 130 Finnegan and Trillian slowly clamber through the hold, waist deep in water, on edge, eyes wide, watching for any sign of trouble. It's quiet in here. Maybe too quiet. TRILLIAN (quietly) Finnegan... FINNEGAN Yeah... TRILLIAN ...the minute you start your engines ...it's going to kill us, isn't it? They step up to one of the big CRATES. Finnegan starts SMASHING it with the butt of his pulse-rifle. The CRATE BURST OPEN. REVEALING the WARHEAD of the torpedo. Trillian is stunned. FINNEGAN Not unless we kill it first. Finnegan SMASHES more of the CRATE, it falls apart, REVEALING the entire torpedo. He hands her his pulse rifle. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) Anything moves, you shoot. Finnegan starts to yank open the top plates of the missile head. Trillian looks around nervously. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) There's not much horsepower left in the engines, but there's enough noise...once this baby's set...I'll rev it up...that slimy bastard will come for it like candy... TRILLIAN If you blow up your boat, how are we going to get to the island? FINNEGAN Jet ski...there's one left up there. The plate comes loose. Revealing a gaggle of wires, and parts. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...let's see, it was red wire cross compressor blue wire...or blue cross red? He starts to fiddle with the wires. -- Suddenly, there's a LOUD SLOSHING SOUND right behind them! CRATES TOPPLE! More pulse rifles spill out. Trillian spins, ready to blast away with the pulse rifle, to... PANTUCCI Don't shoot!! Don't shoot!! FINNEGAN Just the man I wanted to see. On this puppy here, you remember if it's red to blue or blue to red... He refers to the wires. PANTUCCI Not even a Joey, I'm glad to see you? Joey, what happened to your leg? FINNEGAN Joey, you want to get sucked out by a giant fucking mutated squid? PANTUCCI (fast) Red cross over to blue double blue ...is that what it is? A squid? FINNEGAN Squid...squid like...squid type... it's got tentacles, a feed sac... probably one central nervous processor somewhere...what the hell do I know is going on deep down in the ocean...there's all sorts of shit we've never seen...eighty foot clams...60 foot sharks...I'm just guessing...can you get me more juice out of Hercules...fast? PANTUCCI For juice, I gotta rebuild. That's not fast. TRILLIAN How about noise? Can you get noise? We don't need speed, just noise, right? FINNEGAN Right... PANTUCCI Can somebody tell me what the object of the exercise is here? FINNEGAN Seafood salad. (to Trillian) You ever operate a jet ski? TRILLIAN (nervous) You want ME to go up there? FINNEGAN Not unless you can wire a missile or fix an engine. TRILLIAN And what if I run into one of those things? Finnegan tosses her a pulse rifle from the overturned crate. FINNEGAN Don't forget the safety. She hits the safety, slams a shell into chamber... TRILLIAN Don't take too long...I'm not planning on being on the menu tonight. ...and exits. PANTUCCI (razzing) I've never seen you so congenial with a member of the opposite sex... The two of you got a nice patter going...got a nice rapport... FINNEGAN And you got 10 minutes before this thing livens up a boring evening. Finnegan attaches a wire to a sprocket. A red light starts to blink on the warhead. CUT TO: 131 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 131 It is VERY DARK. The RAIN is getting worse. THUNDER RUMBLES. LIGHTNING FLASHES. The FUJI MARU MOANS and CREAKS. BUBBLES EXPLODE from beneath it. The Saipan rocks against her hull. Trillian clambers along the TILTING RAILING, heading for the watersports platform. Her gorgeous eyes shift nervously. TRILLIAN I'm going to be OK...I'm going to be OK... The ship's METAL HULL SCREECHES. The SEAWATER BUBBLES and GURGLES. From somewhere deep inside the ship, we HEAR that loud primordial YOWL again. Trillian freezes, her heart double beats. She looks around, really scared. CUT TO: 132 SAIPAN'S HOLD - NIGHT 132 The missile is on a hoist being pushed forward by Pantucci and Finnegan toward a GAPING HOLE in the PORT BOW. PANTUCCI You know what I think? I think our luck has just about run shit out... FINNEGAN A little to the left... PANTUCCI I think we gotta stop floating from one fucked up situation to the next... FINNEGAN Line it up now, nice and easy... The missile head is right in line with the hole in the bow. PANTUCCI I'm telling you, man, we got to give the future some serious thought. FINNEGAN I have been. PANTUCCI And what have you come up with? FINNEGAN How does an island sound to you? Pantucci looks at Finnegan quizically. This is news to him. CUT TO: 133 SAIPAN - NIGHT 133 The TIP of the WARHEAD creeps out through the hole. The body of the missile is just a hair too wide, which is good, because it jams itself nice and tight into the hole. CUT TO: 134 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 134 Trillian takes the tarp off the remaining jet ski. Pushes the swivel arm that holds it out over the railing. The PLATFORM TILTS! Trillian loses her balance. Almost goes over the

dumbwaiter

How many times the word 'dumbwaiter' appears in the text?

FIRE and BUBBLES. Trillian looks around. Scared shitless. The bubbles clear just in time for her to see -- Chin, mouth open, eyes wide, screaming in agony, being ripped past her. She tries to fire her rifle. Too late. Trillian watches as Chin VANISHES down the shaft in a CLOUD OF BUBBLES. CUT TO: 100 KITCHEN - NIGHT 100 TRILLIAN BURSTS to the surface. FINNEGAN YANKS her up and out of the water. FINNEGAN You O.K.? Trillian can only nod, and gasp for breath. Canton and Hanover catch their breath, PANTING AWAY, waterlogged. Hanover reaches over to retrieve the rifle in Trillian's hand. Trillian points the barrel at him, and hits the safety. TRILLIAN (grim) Finders keepers. Mamooli bursts out of the water, falling on the floor, close to panic mode. MAMOOLI Where's Chin? TRILLIAN Gone... MAMOOLI This is not real! This is not bloody real! Finnegan TOPPLES a large, heavy metal BROILER onto the open floor gate, sealing the watery hole in the floor. There are two hatches in this room. The far hatch is closed. Mamooli stands next to an OPEN HATCH. Canton points to it. CANTON Through there...another sixty, seventy yards...there are more elevators there. PANTUCCI I ain't goin' up no more elevators. CANTON There's stairways... Mamooli SLAMS the HATCH SHUT. Eyes bugging out of his head. MAMOOLI I say we stay right here! PANTUCCI Are you crazy? MAMOOLI (desperate) There's plenty of food here. We can hold out...someone'll rescue us... FINNEGAN Who? MAMOOLI Someone...maybe they sent an SOS! PANTUCCI On what? This son of a bitch (to Canton) zapped the communications. HANOVER Mamooli stand down! MAMOOLI We don't even know if his boat is still there...you saw Billy! FINNEGAN Boat or no boat...I'm going... Finnegan steps forward. Mamooli aims his rifle right at Finnegan's head. MAMOOLI They're wipin' us out one at a time. I say we make a stand. Right here! Right now! Maximum firepower! PANTUCCI Somebody shoot this jerk! FINNEGAN (calm) Nobody's shooting nobody...come on, just let us through the hatch! MAMOOLI I'll kill you!! I'll fucking kill you!! I'll do it! I'll do it! I'm not playin' around here! Finnegan freezes. CLOSE ON: The hatch. As a BLACK LIQUID starts to OOZE through a tiny latch-hole. No one sees it. FINNEGAN I once saw a guy put a fish in a bottle, then he corked it, sealing it tight, and threw it to a baby octopus. The little sucker felt its way around that bottle, and in less than two minutes, got that cork off, slid inside, and ate that fish. MAMOOLI What the hell are you talking about? FINNEGAN Us...I'm talking about us... We're the fish. The LIQUID SHADOW OOZES down and hits the floor, starts to EXPAND, filling like a water balloon. It's not a liquid. It's a Tentacle. VEINS, FEELERS and SUCKERS begin to form. MAMOOLI And what? These things are octopuses FINNEGAN I don't know what these things are ...all I know is... The TENTACLE slowly RISES UP right behind Mamooli. Inches behind his head. Finnegan and Hanover see it. Eyes widening. MAMOOLI What...? What?? Mamooli turns to the tentacle looming over him, about to strike. MAMOOLI (CONT'D) EEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH!!!! He opens fire, emptying his clip into the tentacle. The tentacle retreats into the pipes. Mamooli looks around. The room is empty. He runs out. CUT TO: 101 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 101 Mamooli rushes into the empty passageway, looks left. Then right. His POV. Down the hall another TENTACLE comes racing at him. Mamooli panics, drops his rifle. TRACK WITH Mamooli racing down the hallway, looking over his shoulder in fear, as the tentacle comes racing after him...gaining...gaining... almost on him... Mamooli leaps through an open hatch, and swings it shut in one swift motion. The tentacle slams into the glass portal. Stopped. Mamooli keeps his eye on the portal, and backs up two steps. He lets out a long deep breath of relief, turns... WHAM!!! Another tentacle envelops his face! MAMOOLI EEEYYYAAAHHHH!!!!! CUT TO: 102 MECHANICAL CHAMBER - NIGHT 102 Dante's Inferno: STEAM, SMOKE, FIRE, STRANGE NOISES, DARK AREAS, and lots of MOVING ENGINE PARTS. Finnegan leads, followed by Trillian, Hanover, Pantucci, and Canton. We can HEAR their HEARTS BEATING. Scary shit. Finnegan heads for a open HATCH. It suddenly SLAMS SHUT. He instantly VEERS down another passageway. PANTUCCI What the hell is going on!! Finnegan heads for another open HATCHWAY. It also SLAMS SHUT. FINNEGAN They're herding us. Finnegan and company keep going. HANOVER What are you talking about? As they round a corner, the CEILING IMPLODES right in front of them. PIPES and OTHER MATTER CRASH down. Cutting them off. Leaving only one route open...a slim passageway. FINNEGAN Like cattle... TRILLIAN You're saying they can think? FINNEGAN I'm saying they're calling the shots... Finnegan heads toward the passageway. CANTON Do we have to go there? The ceiling left above them begins to torque, and splits. The answer is plain. Everyone runs into the passage just as the ceiling comes down. CUT TO: 103 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 103 Finnegan leads them single-file, they quickly head into a SHAKING narrow void. Fear has led to silence, and unbearable tension. The walls on either side creak, and moan with strange noises. CUT TO: 104 MID-HULL - NIGHT 104 Finnegan quickly comes out of the CREAKING, MOANING GANGWAY, followed by the others. All the STRANGE NOISES suddenly STOP. Everything gets quiet. Finnegan freezes. Something's wrong. Everybody looks around. STEAM SHOOTS OUT from multiple pipes. The air is thick with MIST. TRILLIAN What's the matter? FINNEGAN The quiet... HANOVER Maybe we lost them. FINNEGAN Or maybe we're exactly where they want us to be. Finnegan moves on. The others follow. Guns out front. TENSE. They round a huge metal pillar and come face-to-face with a soul-wrenching nightmare. The CREATURES' NEST -- OR STOMACH. Across a small portion of the ship's midsection, is a huge GELATINOUS WOMB. Imagine a massive thick wall of clear-yellow JELL-O, with hundreds of BLUE VEINS running through it. If it weren't all so horrific, it would be considered beautiful. Inside the womb, A DOZEN HUMANS, passengers, float around in some kind of twisted embryonic state, the living dead. They all seem to be breathing the gelatin. Several TENTACLES WRIGGLE through the stuff; which divides and re forms in some sort of strange mitosis. Finnegan and the others look at the passengers, horrified. But even more horrifying is that the people can look back at them. Many start to reach out, seemingly in slow motion as their hands ooze through the thick gelatin. Trillian looks sick, trembles in fear. TRILLIAN What is it? FINNEGAN A meat locker. TRILLIAN We can't just leave them here. Canton looks like he's about to throw up, he starts backing away, heading for a side hatch. CANTON I can. In the womb, a Tentacle suddenly approaches a sexy young LADY. The Lady tries to back-pedal away, but because of the gelatin, it's like one of those nightmares where you can only move in slow motion. The FEELERS GRIP her naked thigh. She tries to scream, but her face is already starting to constrict, her whole body is being paralyzed. Pantucci is so horrified he's about to cry. PANTUCCI Oh no...oh God please no. The TENTACLE-SAC gloms onto the Lady's forehead. THROUGH THE SAC we can SEE her SKIN MELTING. The only thing she can move are her EYES, which are bugging-out in absolute horror as she is imbibed alive. Our heroes are frozen in fear. Until the Lady's EYES LIQUEFY. Trillian burries her head in Finnegan's shoulder, trying to shut out the horror. FINNEGAN We can't do anything for them... Let's go... He begins to lead her toward the hatch...when her eyes recognized the old lady with the orchid in her hair. The old lady seems to see her too. Her hands read out, IMPLORING. Her mouth silently shapes the words: HELP ME! Just as a tentacle comes creeping toward her. TRILLIAN NOOO!! Her rage rises. She hefts her rifle, and starts blasting away. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) You won't get her!! You won't!! Spitting FLAMES and SMOKE. The BULLETS IMPACT the gelatin. BLASTING IT AWAY. But the bullets only manage to go about twenty feet into the thick shit before gliding to a stop. GELATIN EXPLODES all over the place. TRACER HOLES STREAK through the stuff. But all the bullets are sliding short. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) Finnegan...do something!! Please!! Finnegan looks around and spots the place in the ceiling where most of the Tentacles are coming from. Their long TAILS WIGGLE down from a massive clutter of pipes. A bas-relief of horror. Finnegan reaches over and yanks two thermite grenades off Hanover's utility belt. HANOVER Finnegan, No!!! ...bites the pins and spits them out. FINNEGAN Eat this. He chucks the grenades up into the strange WRITHING FRESCO, safely clear of the passengers. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) FIRE IN THE HOLE! Pantucci and Hanover throw themselves to the floor. Finnegan pulls Trillian down, covering her. BA-WOOM! GELATIN SPRAYS EVERYWHERE. CUT TO: 105 FUJI MARU - SAME TIME 105 A loud, creepy, suction-like SOUND is HEARD, that strange pitter- patter of little feet running across the hull. Then the HULL begins to MOAN and CREAK from an UNSEEN PRESSURE. CUT TO: 106 MID HULL - NIGHT 106 All the MOVEMENT STOPS. The remaining TENTACLES VANISH into the machinery. Pantucci, and Hanover look up from the floor, covered in slime. Finnegan and Trillian also look up...and then look at each other face to face...inches apart. Dripping with slime. FINNEGAN Looking good... TRILLIAN You should talk... Then the machinery shuts down. The engines go dead. ALL SOUND CUTS OUT. An expectant hush. Somewhere, WATER DRIPS... WE GO EXTREMELY CLOSE ON Trillian's EYES. Pantucci's EYES. Hanover's EYES. Finnegan's EYES. The air is riddled with ominous expectation. And that's when the HULL BEGINS TO TORQUE. RIVETS POP and SNAP. WATER SPRAYS. METAL BUCKLES. 107 SHOT: 107 At the far end of the ship, part of the LOWER BOW RIPS OPEN! AND A WALL OF WATER RUSHES IN. FLOOD CITY! Finnegan's eyes widen as he sees (MODEL SHOT) the massive WAVE OF WATER CRASHING TOWARDS THEM. RIPPING OUT PIPES, DUCTS, WALLS, EQUIPMENT and EVERYTHING in front of it. FINNEGAN GO! GO! GO! They all hightail it for hatches. Finnegan and Trillian make it into one hatch. Hanover and Pantucci make it into another. WATER CRASHES and SPRAYS behind them. CUT TO: 108 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 108 Massive AIR BUBBLES EXPLODE out from under the bow. CUT TO: 109 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 109 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH up and down every passageway. And a CLAXTON RINGS, in accelerating tones, giving a frenetic urgency to ALL OF THE FOLLOWING SCENES: 110 A PASSAGEWAY: 110 WATER BLASTS through a hatch and CHASES Finnegan and Trillian down a passageway. They jag left at an intersection -- WATER BLASTS through the hatch directly in front of them. FINNEGAN We're going to sink! We've got to get on deck! They backtrack. Trillian's now in the lead. They HAUL ASS down a hallway. WATER ROARING IN from everywhere behind them. All of the watertight HATCHES begin to hydraulically CLOSE. Trillian and Finnegan JAG into a hatch. It's a small room. The hatch in front of them closes. WATER BLASTS in behind them. SWEEPS them off their feet. The ROOM quickly starts to FILL UP. Trillian pulls frantically at the hatch. CUT TO: 111 NARROW PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 111 Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through knee-high water. Pantucci stumbles into the water, frantically scrambles up. He looks back -- UNDER THE WATER, INKY FORMS hurl themselves down the passageway right towards him. Pantucci YELPS, and splashes away. CUT TO: 112 SUBMERGING ROOM - NIGHT 112 Trillian and Finnegan pull with all their might on a tiny portal. Finnegan tries to insert the blade of his knife in the crack. TRILLIAN So how do you get from the Bronx to the South China sea? FINNEGAN You quit high school, lie about your age, join the navy, and next thing you know, four years are up and you need a way to make a living... The knife blade slips into the crack. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) I'll break the seal! Pull. He yanks the blade. Trillian pulls. The seal pops. The portal flies open. Waist-high in water, Trillian sticks her arm out, tries to get her shoulder out, but there's no chance in hell of that. TRILLIAN Too small! She pulls her arm out. And a TENTACLE LUNGES IN. Just missing Trillian. It SPLASHES under the water. GRABS Finnegan's ankle. Pulls him under. FINNEGAN sticks the barrel of his gun underwater and OPENS FIRE. WATER EXPLODES. The Tentacle recoils. And rips itself back out the porthole. Trillian SLAMS the PORTHOLE SHUT and dogs it tight. The WATER QUICKLY RISES. CUT TO: 113 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 113 Pantucci and Hanover hauling ass. Hanover pulls out his last two Thermite grenades. Pantucci panics and grabs for them. PANTUCCI Gimme one! Gimme one! He knocks both of them out of Hanover's hands. They DISAPPEAR under the water. HANOVER You idiot! They quickly fumble around in the water, trying to find them. A TENTACLE BLASTS around the corner. Partially obscured by the wave in front of it. Heading right for them. Hanover finds the two grenades. Gives one to Pantucci. They rip the pins out and toss the grenades behind them. Then HAUL ASS faster. The Tentacle right behind them. A BEAT. And then the GRENADES EXPLODE, BA-WOOM! BA-WOOM! CUT TO: 114 FUJI MARY - NIGHT 114 The storm hammers the deck. Canton staggers out onto the RAIN SLICKED DECK just in time to see -- A HOLE BEING BLOWN OUT the side of the Fuji Maru's HULL. BUBBLES continue to EXPLODE OUT from under the bow. CANTON Oh my God, it's going to sink. Then slowly, Canton gets a gleam in his eye, now thrilled. CANTON (CONT'D) It's going to sink. CUT TO: 115 SUBMERGED ROOM - NIGHT 115 Finnegan and Trillian are getting banged around the frothy WATER as it quickly RISES. Now only inches from the ceiling. Trapped. They're about to drown. Finnegan keeps looking around, trying to figure a way out. TRILLIAN I was so goddamn close, Finnegan! So goddamn close to my island... I could almost taste the sand... FINNEGAN Keep tasting... Finnegan shoves the pulse rifle to the ceiling. And blasts away until part of the ceiling falls out and into the water. There's just enough room between two metal beams to get out. The rising WATER SHOVES them up through the hole. CUT TO: 116 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 116 Side-by-side, Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through waist-high water. They round a corner and look back -- INKY FORMS SLOSH around the corner. Heading right for them. They slog faster. PANTUCCI They're catchin' up! They're catchin' up! We gotta slow 'em down! HANOVER Feed them. That'll slow them down. A black STRIATED MUSCLE ROILS out of the foamy water, then quickly VANISHES under it, heading straight for them. PANTUCCI Feed 'em?!! Okay! All right! Feed 'em what? WHAT ARE WE GONNA FEED 'EM?! Hanover takes his pistol and SHOOTS Pantucci in the leg, BLAM! Pantucci SCREAMS. FALLS into the water. Hanover RUNS on. Pantucci doesn't even have time to deal with the pain. He starts SCRAMBLING through the water. UNDERWATER, the INKY FORMS RACE AFTER HIM. Only meters away. Pantucci throws himself into the opening of a dumbwaiter. SLAMS the DOOR SHUT. The TENTACLE ATTACKS the door. WORMING its way across the surface, trying to find a way inside. Pantucci is scared beyond his pain. Pushing back as far as he can against the rear wall, he sees the control button. He presses the up arrow. The dumbwaiter starts to move. CUT TO: 117 FUJI MARU REAR DECK - DAY 117 The Saipan is still bobbing behind the Fuji Maru. But the HARPOON HOOK, which holds the tow-line and is embedded into the rear deck of the ship, is starting to PRY LOOSE. It JERKS and BUCKS against the metal wall. Canton doesn't notice this as he slips and slides his way up to the railing. He sees the Saipan and smiles. Then he looks off at -- 118 ISLAND 118 rising out of the ocean. About a mile away. Canton starts to climb over the railing. And that's when the HARPOON HOOK RIPS FREE. WHIZZES FORWARD. And IMPALES Canton's LEG. He SCREAMS. Tries to spin free. The hook hangs onto his leg for a long, agonizing BEAT as Canton continues to SCREAM. Then the HOOK RIPS FREE, grabs the METAL RAILING and starts TEARING IT off the deck. Canton drops to the deck, holding his leg and whimpering in pain. And then he sees it -- 119 SPEEDBOAT 119 dangling from its harness down on the watersports platform. 120 TO SCENE 120 Canton starts to crawl for it. Moaning and bleeding. CUT TO: 121 CRYSTAL POOL DECK - NIGHT 121 Finnegan and Trillian race up onto the pool deck. Passing beneath a colorful NEON SIGN which READS: "THE FUJI MARU - YOUR FUN SHIP" In the dark, Trillian trips. She falls to the slippery, waterlogged deck, and SCREAMS... TRILLIAN EEEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH! ...clawing at her face... Finnegan pulls her hands from her face...and the thing that attached itself there...a small squid from the shattered aquarium. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) (freaked) Ah...ah...ah... Tries to catch her breath. FINNEGAN It's OK...it's not one of them... it's from the aquarium...it's... And then it dawns on Finnegan. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's not them...it's it... TRILLIAN What? FINNEGAN You know what kind of force it took to rip open the bow of this ship? A million little things like this... He holds up the squid. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...can't exert that kind of pressure... And the way it tracked us? A million little things don't carry portable phones to coordinate positions... What's chasing us... it's one...thing...one giant... thing. SMASH CUT TO: 122 ARIAL POV - MATTE FX SHOT - NIGHT 122 ...looking down on the Fuji Maru from high up in the air. Beneath the ENTIRE SHIP is an enormous, undulating BLACK SHADOW. A massive monster from the deep. CUT TO: 123 CASINO - NIGHT 123 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH. The CLAXTON RINGS. Off to one side of a wall, behind the bar, the dumbwaiter door opens, and Pantucci tumbles out, looks around, and then hears... HANOVER (V.O.) Help!! Help!! Pantucci limps around the bar, down a row of one armed bandits... rounds a corner, comes face-to-face with Hanover. Hanover's eyes are filled with terror and despair. His face is badly constricted. His body paralyzed. He clings to a black-jack table as a Tentacle-Sac drinks its way up his leg. It's already to his hip. He grasps desperately for his pistol, just beyond his reach on the floor. This guy ain't gonna survive. PANTUCCI YELPS and quickly back away, eyes wide, totally tense. He looks around, sees that there's only one Tentacle, and it's completely occupied with devouring Hanover. Pantucci is wigged, but manages to lock eyes with Hanover. Then he looks at the Sac, filled with regurgitated flesh. PANTUCCI ...even you don't deserve this. Pantucci picks up Hanover's pistol. Then slowly, cautiously, he creeps forward, and sticks the gun into Hanover's TWITCHING HAND. PANTUCCI (CONT'D) I'm sorry man... He turns and quickly limps off. Hanover's EYES look down at the gun in his hand. Then, with all the strength he has left, he slowly, painfully, turns the pistol so it points at his head. CLOSE ON: Hanover's trembling FINGER. As it slowly squeezes the trigger. He want to kill himself. Needs to hill himself. He squeezes harder. The TRIGGER DEPRESSES! -- CLICK! The gun is empty. Hanover's mouth opens in a horrible, silent scream. CUT TO: 124 REAR DECK - SAME TIME 124 Finnegan and Trillian race out onto the rear deck just as the HARPOON HOOK finishes TEARING the railing off the ship. The HOOK, the TOW- LINE, and the ENTIRE RAILING DROP over the side and fall OUT OF SIGHT. The TWO BOATS are now UNCOUPLED. Finnegan reels at the rain soaked sky. FINNEGAN Will somebody give me a break here? And that's when Finnegan and Trillian hear the SOUND of a HYDRAULIC HOIST. They look over -- 125 AT THE WATERSPORTS PLATFORM: 125 The speedboat is being hydraulically lowered into the water. Canton sits inside, fiddling with the ignition. ANGLE ON: Trillian and Finnegan racing down the spiral stairs leading to the watersports platform. TRILLIAN Wait! Stop! The boat touches down into the water. CANTON I'd like to but I have an appointment with my insurance broker! He HITS the HOIST-RELEASE BUTTON. The speedboat breaks free. Canton HITS the IGNITION. The boat's ENGINE ROARS. CANTON (CONT'D) Life takes the damndest turns, doesn't it? He red-lines the THROTTLE. The SPEEDBOAT HAULS ASS away from the cruiseliner. Canton steers for the island. Smiling. ANGLE ON: Trillian IN HER RAGE... TRILLIAN You son of a bitch!! She grabs Finnegan's pulse rifle, hefts it to her shoulder... FINNEGAN Look! He forces her to look in the distance. Their POV. The island. TRILLIAN Oh my god! Oh my god! How do we do it? How do we get there? FINNEGAN Not like him. Finnegan points to the water...and an INKY PSEUDOPOD FORM racing after the speedboat underwater. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's the engine...it can hear the engine...it goes for the loudest sound... The Tentacle quickly picks up speed, going faster and faster, getting closer and closer, stretching further and further. Suddenly, behind them, a METALLIC THRASHING SOUND is HEARD. They turn around and look -- The hook, the tow-line, and the entire railing have dropped down onto the watersports platform and are tangled up around the two jet skis, trying to tear free -- The Saipan is still clinging by its fingernails to the Fuji Maru! Finnegan races over to a WINCH and grabs the winch- line. CUT TO: 126 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 126 Canton, smiling brightly, peers at the approaching island through the speedboat's windscreen. So relieved he sings to himself, from the operetta H.M.S. PINAFORE. CANTON Oh we sail the ocean blue, and our mighty ship's a beauty. We are strong men, yes it's true, and responsive to our duty... When...YANK!!...the SPEEDBOAT is GRABBED from below, practically exploding as it DISINTEGRATES into TWO PIECES. Canton is PROPELLED through the windscreen and onto the hood. CUT TO: 127 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 127 Finnegan struggles to clip the winch-line onto the tow-line, hanging precariously over the edge of the ship, clip in one hand, winch-line in the other. The whole METAL MESS is BUCKING and TWISTING and SCREECHING. His every joint is being ripped out of socket as he strains to get the clip on the line before the entire rig tears away into the sea. With one last heroic effort of will and grit, he snaps the clip in place just as it all BREAKS LOOSE. One of the JET SKIS and the ENTIRE RAILING are RIPPED over the side and fall down into the ocean. Finnegan is also YANKED over the side, but he manages to hold on by his fingers, dangling precariously. FINNEGAN Hit it! Hit it! The HOOK and the TOW-LINE drop -- then SNAP TAUGHT as the winch-line holds them tight. Trillian throws the start lever on the winch. The WINCH KICKS ON and starts reeling in the Saipan. Finnegan tries to crawl up on the deck, exhausted. Trillian reaches down and pulls him the rest of the way up. He half collapses on top of her. TRILLIAN You know, Finnegan, I'm starting to believe what you said about you not being born to die on a luxury liner. Despite the grimness of their position, the closeness of their bodies is...a turn on...to both of them...and then a SCREAM from the sea. They look in the direction of... CUT TO: 128 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 128 Canton is pinned to the hood of the speedboat, his face shredded by glass, his leg mangled, screaming as his panicked eyes watch a TENTACLE slowly squirm across the hood toward him, it's hideous feelers writhe and arch. Canton backs away from it as far as he can. Another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up next to him. Canton crawls away from that one. Its Feelers and Suckers unsheathe, dripping mucus. Canton's eyes widen, horrified. Then another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up. Canton crawls to the center of the hood. And another TENTACLE. Canton has nowhere to go. The Tentacles close in on him. CANTON No! No! No! All the tentacles rise over him, about to descend. CANTON (CONT'D) NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! CUT TO: 129 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 129 Finnegan and Trillian race for all they are worth, clamber over the side of the Fuji Maru, dropping to the deck of the Saipan. CUT TO: 130 SAIPAN - NIGHT 130 Finnegan and Trillian slowly clamber through the hold, waist deep in water, on edge, eyes wide, watching for any sign of trouble. It's quiet in here. Maybe too quiet. TRILLIAN (quietly) Finnegan... FINNEGAN Yeah... TRILLIAN ...the minute you start your engines ...it's going to kill us, isn't it? They step up to one of the big CRATES. Finnegan starts SMASHING it with the butt of his pulse-rifle. The CRATE BURST OPEN. REVEALING the WARHEAD of the torpedo. Trillian is stunned. FINNEGAN Not unless we kill it first. Finnegan SMASHES more of the CRATE, it falls apart, REVEALING the entire torpedo. He hands her his pulse rifle. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) Anything moves, you shoot. Finnegan starts to yank open the top plates of the missile head. Trillian looks around nervously. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) There's not much horsepower left in the engines, but there's enough noise...once this baby's set...I'll rev it up...that slimy bastard will come for it like candy... TRILLIAN If you blow up your boat, how are we going to get to the island? FINNEGAN Jet ski...there's one left up there. The plate comes loose. Revealing a gaggle of wires, and parts. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...let's see, it was red wire cross compressor blue wire...or blue cross red? He starts to fiddle with the wires. -- Suddenly, there's a LOUD SLOSHING SOUND right behind them! CRATES TOPPLE! More pulse rifles spill out. Trillian spins, ready to blast away with the pulse rifle, to... PANTUCCI Don't shoot!! Don't shoot!! FINNEGAN Just the man I wanted to see. On this puppy here, you remember if it's red to blue or blue to red... He refers to the wires. PANTUCCI Not even a Joey, I'm glad to see you? Joey, what happened to your leg? FINNEGAN Joey, you want to get sucked out by a giant fucking mutated squid? PANTUCCI (fast) Red cross over to blue double blue ...is that what it is? A squid? FINNEGAN Squid...squid like...squid type... it's got tentacles, a feed sac... probably one central nervous processor somewhere...what the hell do I know is going on deep down in the ocean...there's all sorts of shit we've never seen...eighty foot clams...60 foot sharks...I'm just guessing...can you get me more juice out of Hercules...fast? PANTUCCI For juice, I gotta rebuild. That's not fast. TRILLIAN How about noise? Can you get noise? We don't need speed, just noise, right? FINNEGAN Right... PANTUCCI Can somebody tell me what the object of the exercise is here? FINNEGAN Seafood salad. (to Trillian) You ever operate a jet ski? TRILLIAN (nervous) You want ME to go up there? FINNEGAN Not unless you can wire a missile or fix an engine. TRILLIAN And what if I run into one of those things? Finnegan tosses her a pulse rifle from the overturned crate. FINNEGAN Don't forget the safety. She hits the safety, slams a shell into chamber... TRILLIAN Don't take too long...I'm not planning on being on the menu tonight. ...and exits. PANTUCCI (razzing) I've never seen you so congenial with a member of the opposite sex... The two of you got a nice patter going...got a nice rapport... FINNEGAN And you got 10 minutes before this thing livens up a boring evening. Finnegan attaches a wire to a sprocket. A red light starts to blink on the warhead. CUT TO: 131 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 131 It is VERY DARK. The RAIN is getting worse. THUNDER RUMBLES. LIGHTNING FLASHES. The FUJI MARU MOANS and CREAKS. BUBBLES EXPLODE from beneath it. The Saipan rocks against her hull. Trillian clambers along the TILTING RAILING, heading for the watersports platform. Her gorgeous eyes shift nervously. TRILLIAN I'm going to be OK...I'm going to be OK... The ship's METAL HULL SCREECHES. The SEAWATER BUBBLES and GURGLES. From somewhere deep inside the ship, we HEAR that loud primordial YOWL again. Trillian freezes, her heart double beats. She looks around, really scared. CUT TO: 132 SAIPAN'S HOLD - NIGHT 132 The missile is on a hoist being pushed forward by Pantucci and Finnegan toward a GAPING HOLE in the PORT BOW. PANTUCCI You know what I think? I think our luck has just about run shit out... FINNEGAN A little to the left... PANTUCCI I think we gotta stop floating from one fucked up situation to the next... FINNEGAN Line it up now, nice and easy... The missile head is right in line with the hole in the bow. PANTUCCI I'm telling you, man, we got to give the future some serious thought. FINNEGAN I have been. PANTUCCI And what have you come up with? FINNEGAN How does an island sound to you? Pantucci looks at Finnegan quizically. This is news to him. CUT TO: 133 SAIPAN - NIGHT 133 The TIP of the WARHEAD creeps out through the hole. The body of the missile is just a hair too wide, which is good, because it jams itself nice and tight into the hole. CUT TO: 134 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 134 Trillian takes the tarp off the remaining jet ski. Pushes the swivel arm that holds it out over the railing. The PLATFORM TILTS! Trillian loses her balance. Almost goes over the

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FIRE and BUBBLES. Trillian looks around. Scared shitless. The bubbles clear just in time for her to see -- Chin, mouth open, eyes wide, screaming in agony, being ripped past her. She tries to fire her rifle. Too late. Trillian watches as Chin VANISHES down the shaft in a CLOUD OF BUBBLES. CUT TO: 100 KITCHEN - NIGHT 100 TRILLIAN BURSTS to the surface. FINNEGAN YANKS her up and out of the water. FINNEGAN You O.K.? Trillian can only nod, and gasp for breath. Canton and Hanover catch their breath, PANTING AWAY, waterlogged. Hanover reaches over to retrieve the rifle in Trillian's hand. Trillian points the barrel at him, and hits the safety. TRILLIAN (grim) Finders keepers. Mamooli bursts out of the water, falling on the floor, close to panic mode. MAMOOLI Where's Chin? TRILLIAN Gone... MAMOOLI This is not real! This is not bloody real! Finnegan TOPPLES a large, heavy metal BROILER onto the open floor gate, sealing the watery hole in the floor. There are two hatches in this room. The far hatch is closed. Mamooli stands next to an OPEN HATCH. Canton points to it. CANTON Through there...another sixty, seventy yards...there are more elevators there. PANTUCCI I ain't goin' up no more elevators. CANTON There's stairways... Mamooli SLAMS the HATCH SHUT. Eyes bugging out of his head. MAMOOLI I say we stay right here! PANTUCCI Are you crazy? MAMOOLI (desperate) There's plenty of food here. We can hold out...someone'll rescue us... FINNEGAN Who? MAMOOLI Someone...maybe they sent an SOS! PANTUCCI On what? This son of a bitch (to Canton) zapped the communications. HANOVER Mamooli stand down! MAMOOLI We don't even know if his boat is still there...you saw Billy! FINNEGAN Boat or no boat...I'm going... Finnegan steps forward. Mamooli aims his rifle right at Finnegan's head. MAMOOLI They're wipin' us out one at a time. I say we make a stand. Right here! Right now! Maximum firepower! PANTUCCI Somebody shoot this jerk! FINNEGAN (calm) Nobody's shooting nobody...come on, just let us through the hatch! MAMOOLI I'll kill you!! I'll fucking kill you!! I'll do it! I'll do it! I'm not playin' around here! Finnegan freezes. CLOSE ON: The hatch. As a BLACK LIQUID starts to OOZE through a tiny latch-hole. No one sees it. FINNEGAN I once saw a guy put a fish in a bottle, then he corked it, sealing it tight, and threw it to a baby octopus. The little sucker felt its way around that bottle, and in less than two minutes, got that cork off, slid inside, and ate that fish. MAMOOLI What the hell are you talking about? FINNEGAN Us...I'm talking about us... We're the fish. The LIQUID SHADOW OOZES down and hits the floor, starts to EXPAND, filling like a water balloon. It's not a liquid. It's a Tentacle. VEINS, FEELERS and SUCKERS begin to form. MAMOOLI And what? These things are octopuses FINNEGAN I don't know what these things are ...all I know is... The TENTACLE slowly RISES UP right behind Mamooli. Inches behind his head. Finnegan and Hanover see it. Eyes widening. MAMOOLI What...? What?? Mamooli turns to the tentacle looming over him, about to strike. MAMOOLI (CONT'D) EEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH!!!! He opens fire, emptying his clip into the tentacle. The tentacle retreats into the pipes. Mamooli looks around. The room is empty. He runs out. CUT TO: 101 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 101 Mamooli rushes into the empty passageway, looks left. Then right. His POV. Down the hall another TENTACLE comes racing at him. Mamooli panics, drops his rifle. TRACK WITH Mamooli racing down the hallway, looking over his shoulder in fear, as the tentacle comes racing after him...gaining...gaining... almost on him... Mamooli leaps through an open hatch, and swings it shut in one swift motion. The tentacle slams into the glass portal. Stopped. Mamooli keeps his eye on the portal, and backs up two steps. He lets out a long deep breath of relief, turns... WHAM!!! Another tentacle envelops his face! MAMOOLI EEEYYYAAAHHHH!!!!! CUT TO: 102 MECHANICAL CHAMBER - NIGHT 102 Dante's Inferno: STEAM, SMOKE, FIRE, STRANGE NOISES, DARK AREAS, and lots of MOVING ENGINE PARTS. Finnegan leads, followed by Trillian, Hanover, Pantucci, and Canton. We can HEAR their HEARTS BEATING. Scary shit. Finnegan heads for a open HATCH. It suddenly SLAMS SHUT. He instantly VEERS down another passageway. PANTUCCI What the hell is going on!! Finnegan heads for another open HATCHWAY. It also SLAMS SHUT. FINNEGAN They're herding us. Finnegan and company keep going. HANOVER What are you talking about? As they round a corner, the CEILING IMPLODES right in front of them. PIPES and OTHER MATTER CRASH down. Cutting them off. Leaving only one route open...a slim passageway. FINNEGAN Like cattle... TRILLIAN You're saying they can think? FINNEGAN I'm saying they're calling the shots... Finnegan heads toward the passageway. CANTON Do we have to go there? The ceiling left above them begins to torque, and splits. The answer is plain. Everyone runs into the passage just as the ceiling comes down. CUT TO: 103 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 103 Finnegan leads them single-file, they quickly head into a SHAKING narrow void. Fear has led to silence, and unbearable tension. The walls on either side creak, and moan with strange noises. CUT TO: 104 MID-HULL - NIGHT 104 Finnegan quickly comes out of the CREAKING, MOANING GANGWAY, followed by the others. All the STRANGE NOISES suddenly STOP. Everything gets quiet. Finnegan freezes. Something's wrong. Everybody looks around. STEAM SHOOTS OUT from multiple pipes. The air is thick with MIST. TRILLIAN What's the matter? FINNEGAN The quiet... HANOVER Maybe we lost them. FINNEGAN Or maybe we're exactly where they want us to be. Finnegan moves on. The others follow. Guns out front. TENSE. They round a huge metal pillar and come face-to-face with a soul-wrenching nightmare. The CREATURES' NEST -- OR STOMACH. Across a small portion of the ship's midsection, is a huge GELATINOUS WOMB. Imagine a massive thick wall of clear-yellow JELL-O, with hundreds of BLUE VEINS running through it. If it weren't all so horrific, it would be considered beautiful. Inside the womb, A DOZEN HUMANS, passengers, float around in some kind of twisted embryonic state, the living dead. They all seem to be breathing the gelatin. Several TENTACLES WRIGGLE through the stuff; which divides and re forms in some sort of strange mitosis. Finnegan and the others look at the passengers, horrified. But even more horrifying is that the people can look back at them. Many start to reach out, seemingly in slow motion as their hands ooze through the thick gelatin. Trillian looks sick, trembles in fear. TRILLIAN What is it? FINNEGAN A meat locker. TRILLIAN We can't just leave them here. Canton looks like he's about to throw up, he starts backing away, heading for a side hatch. CANTON I can. In the womb, a Tentacle suddenly approaches a sexy young LADY. The Lady tries to back-pedal away, but because of the gelatin, it's like one of those nightmares where you can only move in slow motion. The FEELERS GRIP her naked thigh. She tries to scream, but her face is already starting to constrict, her whole body is being paralyzed. Pantucci is so horrified he's about to cry. PANTUCCI Oh no...oh God please no. The TENTACLE-SAC gloms onto the Lady's forehead. THROUGH THE SAC we can SEE her SKIN MELTING. The only thing she can move are her EYES, which are bugging-out in absolute horror as she is imbibed alive. Our heroes are frozen in fear. Until the Lady's EYES LIQUEFY. Trillian burries her head in Finnegan's shoulder, trying to shut out the horror. FINNEGAN We can't do anything for them... Let's go... He begins to lead her toward the hatch...when her eyes recognized the old lady with the orchid in her hair. The old lady seems to see her too. Her hands read out, IMPLORING. Her mouth silently shapes the words: HELP ME! Just as a tentacle comes creeping toward her. TRILLIAN NOOO!! Her rage rises. She hefts her rifle, and starts blasting away. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) You won't get her!! You won't!! Spitting FLAMES and SMOKE. The BULLETS IMPACT the gelatin. BLASTING IT AWAY. But the bullets only manage to go about twenty feet into the thick shit before gliding to a stop. GELATIN EXPLODES all over the place. TRACER HOLES STREAK through the stuff. But all the bullets are sliding short. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) Finnegan...do something!! Please!! Finnegan looks around and spots the place in the ceiling where most of the Tentacles are coming from. Their long TAILS WIGGLE down from a massive clutter of pipes. A bas-relief of horror. Finnegan reaches over and yanks two thermite grenades off Hanover's utility belt. HANOVER Finnegan, No!!! ...bites the pins and spits them out. FINNEGAN Eat this. He chucks the grenades up into the strange WRITHING FRESCO, safely clear of the passengers. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) FIRE IN THE HOLE! Pantucci and Hanover throw themselves to the floor. Finnegan pulls Trillian down, covering her. BA-WOOM! GELATIN SPRAYS EVERYWHERE. CUT TO: 105 FUJI MARU - SAME TIME 105 A loud, creepy, suction-like SOUND is HEARD, that strange pitter- patter of little feet running across the hull. Then the HULL begins to MOAN and CREAK from an UNSEEN PRESSURE. CUT TO: 106 MID HULL - NIGHT 106 All the MOVEMENT STOPS. The remaining TENTACLES VANISH into the machinery. Pantucci, and Hanover look up from the floor, covered in slime. Finnegan and Trillian also look up...and then look at each other face to face...inches apart. Dripping with slime. FINNEGAN Looking good... TRILLIAN You should talk... Then the machinery shuts down. The engines go dead. ALL SOUND CUTS OUT. An expectant hush. Somewhere, WATER DRIPS... WE GO EXTREMELY CLOSE ON Trillian's EYES. Pantucci's EYES. Hanover's EYES. Finnegan's EYES. The air is riddled with ominous expectation. And that's when the HULL BEGINS TO TORQUE. RIVETS POP and SNAP. WATER SPRAYS. METAL BUCKLES. 107 SHOT: 107 At the far end of the ship, part of the LOWER BOW RIPS OPEN! AND A WALL OF WATER RUSHES IN. FLOOD CITY! Finnegan's eyes widen as he sees (MODEL SHOT) the massive WAVE OF WATER CRASHING TOWARDS THEM. RIPPING OUT PIPES, DUCTS, WALLS, EQUIPMENT and EVERYTHING in front of it. FINNEGAN GO! GO! GO! They all hightail it for hatches. Finnegan and Trillian make it into one hatch. Hanover and Pantucci make it into another. WATER CRASHES and SPRAYS behind them. CUT TO: 108 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 108 Massive AIR BUBBLES EXPLODE out from under the bow. CUT TO: 109 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 109 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH up and down every passageway. And a CLAXTON RINGS, in accelerating tones, giving a frenetic urgency to ALL OF THE FOLLOWING SCENES: 110 A PASSAGEWAY: 110 WATER BLASTS through a hatch and CHASES Finnegan and Trillian down a passageway. They jag left at an intersection -- WATER BLASTS through the hatch directly in front of them. FINNEGAN We're going to sink! We've got to get on deck! They backtrack. Trillian's now in the lead. They HAUL ASS down a hallway. WATER ROARING IN from everywhere behind them. All of the watertight HATCHES begin to hydraulically CLOSE. Trillian and Finnegan JAG into a hatch. It's a small room. The hatch in front of them closes. WATER BLASTS in behind them. SWEEPS them off their feet. The ROOM quickly starts to FILL UP. Trillian pulls frantically at the hatch. CUT TO: 111 NARROW PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 111 Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through knee-high water. Pantucci stumbles into the water, frantically scrambles up. He looks back -- UNDER THE WATER, INKY FORMS hurl themselves down the passageway right towards him. Pantucci YELPS, and splashes away. CUT TO: 112 SUBMERGING ROOM - NIGHT 112 Trillian and Finnegan pull with all their might on a tiny portal. Finnegan tries to insert the blade of his knife in the crack. TRILLIAN So how do you get from the Bronx to the South China sea? FINNEGAN You quit high school, lie about your age, join the navy, and next thing you know, four years are up and you need a way to make a living... The knife blade slips into the crack. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) I'll break the seal! Pull. He yanks the blade. Trillian pulls. The seal pops. The portal flies open. Waist-high in water, Trillian sticks her arm out, tries to get her shoulder out, but there's no chance in hell of that. TRILLIAN Too small! She pulls her arm out. And a TENTACLE LUNGES IN. Just missing Trillian. It SPLASHES under the water. GRABS Finnegan's ankle. Pulls him under. FINNEGAN sticks the barrel of his gun underwater and OPENS FIRE. WATER EXPLODES. The Tentacle recoils. And rips itself back out the porthole. Trillian SLAMS the PORTHOLE SHUT and dogs it tight. The WATER QUICKLY RISES. CUT TO: 113 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 113 Pantucci and Hanover hauling ass. Hanover pulls out his last two Thermite grenades. Pantucci panics and grabs for them. PANTUCCI Gimme one! Gimme one! He knocks both of them out of Hanover's hands. They DISAPPEAR under the water. HANOVER You idiot! They quickly fumble around in the water, trying to find them. A TENTACLE BLASTS around the corner. Partially obscured by the wave in front of it. Heading right for them. Hanover finds the two grenades. Gives one to Pantucci. They rip the pins out and toss the grenades behind them. Then HAUL ASS faster. The Tentacle right behind them. A BEAT. And then the GRENADES EXPLODE, BA-WOOM! BA-WOOM! CUT TO: 114 FUJI MARY - NIGHT 114 The storm hammers the deck. Canton staggers out onto the RAIN SLICKED DECK just in time to see -- A HOLE BEING BLOWN OUT the side of the Fuji Maru's HULL. BUBBLES continue to EXPLODE OUT from under the bow. CANTON Oh my God, it's going to sink. Then slowly, Canton gets a gleam in his eye, now thrilled. CANTON (CONT'D) It's going to sink. CUT TO: 115 SUBMERGED ROOM - NIGHT 115 Finnegan and Trillian are getting banged around the frothy WATER as it quickly RISES. Now only inches from the ceiling. Trapped. They're about to drown. Finnegan keeps looking around, trying to figure a way out. TRILLIAN I was so goddamn close, Finnegan! So goddamn close to my island... I could almost taste the sand... FINNEGAN Keep tasting... Finnegan shoves the pulse rifle to the ceiling. And blasts away until part of the ceiling falls out and into the water. There's just enough room between two metal beams to get out. The rising WATER SHOVES them up through the hole. CUT TO: 116 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 116 Side-by-side, Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through waist-high water. They round a corner and look back -- INKY FORMS SLOSH around the corner. Heading right for them. They slog faster. PANTUCCI They're catchin' up! They're catchin' up! We gotta slow 'em down! HANOVER Feed them. That'll slow them down. A black STRIATED MUSCLE ROILS out of the foamy water, then quickly VANISHES under it, heading straight for them. PANTUCCI Feed 'em?!! Okay! All right! Feed 'em what? WHAT ARE WE GONNA FEED 'EM?! Hanover takes his pistol and SHOOTS Pantucci in the leg, BLAM! Pantucci SCREAMS. FALLS into the water. Hanover RUNS on. Pantucci doesn't even have time to deal with the pain. He starts SCRAMBLING through the water. UNDERWATER, the INKY FORMS RACE AFTER HIM. Only meters away. Pantucci throws himself into the opening of a dumbwaiter. SLAMS the DOOR SHUT. The TENTACLE ATTACKS the door. WORMING its way across the surface, trying to find a way inside. Pantucci is scared beyond his pain. Pushing back as far as he can against the rear wall, he sees the control button. He presses the up arrow. The dumbwaiter starts to move. CUT TO: 117 FUJI MARU REAR DECK - DAY 117 The Saipan is still bobbing behind the Fuji Maru. But the HARPOON HOOK, which holds the tow-line and is embedded into the rear deck of the ship, is starting to PRY LOOSE. It JERKS and BUCKS against the metal wall. Canton doesn't notice this as he slips and slides his way up to the railing. He sees the Saipan and smiles. Then he looks off at -- 118 ISLAND 118 rising out of the ocean. About a mile away. Canton starts to climb over the railing. And that's when the HARPOON HOOK RIPS FREE. WHIZZES FORWARD. And IMPALES Canton's LEG. He SCREAMS. Tries to spin free. The hook hangs onto his leg for a long, agonizing BEAT as Canton continues to SCREAM. Then the HOOK RIPS FREE, grabs the METAL RAILING and starts TEARING IT off the deck. Canton drops to the deck, holding his leg and whimpering in pain. And then he sees it -- 119 SPEEDBOAT 119 dangling from its harness down on the watersports platform. 120 TO SCENE 120 Canton starts to crawl for it. Moaning and bleeding. CUT TO: 121 CRYSTAL POOL DECK - NIGHT 121 Finnegan and Trillian race up onto the pool deck. Passing beneath a colorful NEON SIGN which READS: "THE FUJI MARU - YOUR FUN SHIP" In the dark, Trillian trips. She falls to the slippery, waterlogged deck, and SCREAMS... TRILLIAN EEEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH! ...clawing at her face... Finnegan pulls her hands from her face...and the thing that attached itself there...a small squid from the shattered aquarium. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) (freaked) Ah...ah...ah... Tries to catch her breath. FINNEGAN It's OK...it's not one of them... it's from the aquarium...it's... And then it dawns on Finnegan. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's not them...it's it... TRILLIAN What? FINNEGAN You know what kind of force it took to rip open the bow of this ship? A million little things like this... He holds up the squid. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...can't exert that kind of pressure... And the way it tracked us? A million little things don't carry portable phones to coordinate positions... What's chasing us... it's one...thing...one giant... thing. SMASH CUT TO: 122 ARIAL POV - MATTE FX SHOT - NIGHT 122 ...looking down on the Fuji Maru from high up in the air. Beneath the ENTIRE SHIP is an enormous, undulating BLACK SHADOW. A massive monster from the deep. CUT TO: 123 CASINO - NIGHT 123 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH. The CLAXTON RINGS. Off to one side of a wall, behind the bar, the dumbwaiter door opens, and Pantucci tumbles out, looks around, and then hears... HANOVER (V.O.) Help!! Help!! Pantucci limps around the bar, down a row of one armed bandits... rounds a corner, comes face-to-face with Hanover. Hanover's eyes are filled with terror and despair. His face is badly constricted. His body paralyzed. He clings to a black-jack table as a Tentacle-Sac drinks its way up his leg. It's already to his hip. He grasps desperately for his pistol, just beyond his reach on the floor. This guy ain't gonna survive. PANTUCCI YELPS and quickly back away, eyes wide, totally tense. He looks around, sees that there's only one Tentacle, and it's completely occupied with devouring Hanover. Pantucci is wigged, but manages to lock eyes with Hanover. Then he looks at the Sac, filled with regurgitated flesh. PANTUCCI ...even you don't deserve this. Pantucci picks up Hanover's pistol. Then slowly, cautiously, he creeps forward, and sticks the gun into Hanover's TWITCHING HAND. PANTUCCI (CONT'D) I'm sorry man... He turns and quickly limps off. Hanover's EYES look down at the gun in his hand. Then, with all the strength he has left, he slowly, painfully, turns the pistol so it points at his head. CLOSE ON: Hanover's trembling FINGER. As it slowly squeezes the trigger. He want to kill himself. Needs to hill himself. He squeezes harder. The TRIGGER DEPRESSES! -- CLICK! The gun is empty. Hanover's mouth opens in a horrible, silent scream. CUT TO: 124 REAR DECK - SAME TIME 124 Finnegan and Trillian race out onto the rear deck just as the HARPOON HOOK finishes TEARING the railing off the ship. The HOOK, the TOW- LINE, and the ENTIRE RAILING DROP over the side and fall OUT OF SIGHT. The TWO BOATS are now UNCOUPLED. Finnegan reels at the rain soaked sky. FINNEGAN Will somebody give me a break here? And that's when Finnegan and Trillian hear the SOUND of a HYDRAULIC HOIST. They look over -- 125 AT THE WATERSPORTS PLATFORM: 125 The speedboat is being hydraulically lowered into the water. Canton sits inside, fiddling with the ignition. ANGLE ON: Trillian and Finnegan racing down the spiral stairs leading to the watersports platform. TRILLIAN Wait! Stop! The boat touches down into the water. CANTON I'd like to but I have an appointment with my insurance broker! He HITS the HOIST-RELEASE BUTTON. The speedboat breaks free. Canton HITS the IGNITION. The boat's ENGINE ROARS. CANTON (CONT'D) Life takes the damndest turns, doesn't it? He red-lines the THROTTLE. The SPEEDBOAT HAULS ASS away from the cruiseliner. Canton steers for the island. Smiling. ANGLE ON: Trillian IN HER RAGE... TRILLIAN You son of a bitch!! She grabs Finnegan's pulse rifle, hefts it to her shoulder... FINNEGAN Look! He forces her to look in the distance. Their POV. The island. TRILLIAN Oh my god! Oh my god! How do we do it? How do we get there? FINNEGAN Not like him. Finnegan points to the water...and an INKY PSEUDOPOD FORM racing after the speedboat underwater. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's the engine...it can hear the engine...it goes for the loudest sound... The Tentacle quickly picks up speed, going faster and faster, getting closer and closer, stretching further and further. Suddenly, behind them, a METALLIC THRASHING SOUND is HEARD. They turn around and look -- The hook, the tow-line, and the entire railing have dropped down onto the watersports platform and are tangled up around the two jet skis, trying to tear free -- The Saipan is still clinging by its fingernails to the Fuji Maru! Finnegan races over to a WINCH and grabs the winch- line. CUT TO: 126 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 126 Canton, smiling brightly, peers at the approaching island through the speedboat's windscreen. So relieved he sings to himself, from the operetta H.M.S. PINAFORE. CANTON Oh we sail the ocean blue, and our mighty ship's a beauty. We are strong men, yes it's true, and responsive to our duty... When...YANK!!...the SPEEDBOAT is GRABBED from below, practically exploding as it DISINTEGRATES into TWO PIECES. Canton is PROPELLED through the windscreen and onto the hood. CUT TO: 127 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 127 Finnegan struggles to clip the winch-line onto the tow-line, hanging precariously over the edge of the ship, clip in one hand, winch-line in the other. The whole METAL MESS is BUCKING and TWISTING and SCREECHING. His every joint is being ripped out of socket as he strains to get the clip on the line before the entire rig tears away into the sea. With one last heroic effort of will and grit, he snaps the clip in place just as it all BREAKS LOOSE. One of the JET SKIS and the ENTIRE RAILING are RIPPED over the side and fall down into the ocean. Finnegan is also YANKED over the side, but he manages to hold on by his fingers, dangling precariously. FINNEGAN Hit it! Hit it! The HOOK and the TOW-LINE drop -- then SNAP TAUGHT as the winch-line holds them tight. Trillian throws the start lever on the winch. The WINCH KICKS ON and starts reeling in the Saipan. Finnegan tries to crawl up on the deck, exhausted. Trillian reaches down and pulls him the rest of the way up. He half collapses on top of her. TRILLIAN You know, Finnegan, I'm starting to believe what you said about you not being born to die on a luxury liner. Despite the grimness of their position, the closeness of their bodies is...a turn on...to both of them...and then a SCREAM from the sea. They look in the direction of... CUT TO: 128 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 128 Canton is pinned to the hood of the speedboat, his face shredded by glass, his leg mangled, screaming as his panicked eyes watch a TENTACLE slowly squirm across the hood toward him, it's hideous feelers writhe and arch. Canton backs away from it as far as he can. Another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up next to him. Canton crawls away from that one. Its Feelers and Suckers unsheathe, dripping mucus. Canton's eyes widen, horrified. Then another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up. Canton crawls to the center of the hood. And another TENTACLE. Canton has nowhere to go. The Tentacles close in on him. CANTON No! No! No! All the tentacles rise over him, about to descend. CANTON (CONT'D) NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! CUT TO: 129 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 129 Finnegan and Trillian race for all they are worth, clamber over the side of the Fuji Maru, dropping to the deck of the Saipan. CUT TO: 130 SAIPAN - NIGHT 130 Finnegan and Trillian slowly clamber through the hold, waist deep in water, on edge, eyes wide, watching for any sign of trouble. It's quiet in here. Maybe too quiet. TRILLIAN (quietly) Finnegan... FINNEGAN Yeah... TRILLIAN ...the minute you start your engines ...it's going to kill us, isn't it? They step up to one of the big CRATES. Finnegan starts SMASHING it with the butt of his pulse-rifle. The CRATE BURST OPEN. REVEALING the WARHEAD of the torpedo. Trillian is stunned. FINNEGAN Not unless we kill it first. Finnegan SMASHES more of the CRATE, it falls apart, REVEALING the entire torpedo. He hands her his pulse rifle. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) Anything moves, you shoot. Finnegan starts to yank open the top plates of the missile head. Trillian looks around nervously. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) There's not much horsepower left in the engines, but there's enough noise...once this baby's set...I'll rev it up...that slimy bastard will come for it like candy... TRILLIAN If you blow up your boat, how are we going to get to the island? FINNEGAN Jet ski...there's one left up there. The plate comes loose. Revealing a gaggle of wires, and parts. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...let's see, it was red wire cross compressor blue wire...or blue cross red? He starts to fiddle with the wires. -- Suddenly, there's a LOUD SLOSHING SOUND right behind them! CRATES TOPPLE! More pulse rifles spill out. Trillian spins, ready to blast away with the pulse rifle, to... PANTUCCI Don't shoot!! Don't shoot!! FINNEGAN Just the man I wanted to see. On this puppy here, you remember if it's red to blue or blue to red... He refers to the wires. PANTUCCI Not even a Joey, I'm glad to see you? Joey, what happened to your leg? FINNEGAN Joey, you want to get sucked out by a giant fucking mutated squid? PANTUCCI (fast) Red cross over to blue double blue ...is that what it is? A squid? FINNEGAN Squid...squid like...squid type... it's got tentacles, a feed sac... probably one central nervous processor somewhere...what the hell do I know is going on deep down in the ocean...there's all sorts of shit we've never seen...eighty foot clams...60 foot sharks...I'm just guessing...can you get me more juice out of Hercules...fast? PANTUCCI For juice, I gotta rebuild. That's not fast. TRILLIAN How about noise? Can you get noise? We don't need speed, just noise, right? FINNEGAN Right... PANTUCCI Can somebody tell me what the object of the exercise is here? FINNEGAN Seafood salad. (to Trillian) You ever operate a jet ski? TRILLIAN (nervous) You want ME to go up there? FINNEGAN Not unless you can wire a missile or fix an engine. TRILLIAN And what if I run into one of those things? Finnegan tosses her a pulse rifle from the overturned crate. FINNEGAN Don't forget the safety. She hits the safety, slams a shell into chamber... TRILLIAN Don't take too long...I'm not planning on being on the menu tonight. ...and exits. PANTUCCI (razzing) I've never seen you so congenial with a member of the opposite sex... The two of you got a nice patter going...got a nice rapport... FINNEGAN And you got 10 minutes before this thing livens up a boring evening. Finnegan attaches a wire to a sprocket. A red light starts to blink on the warhead. CUT TO: 131 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 131 It is VERY DARK. The RAIN is getting worse. THUNDER RUMBLES. LIGHTNING FLASHES. The FUJI MARU MOANS and CREAKS. BUBBLES EXPLODE from beneath it. The Saipan rocks against her hull. Trillian clambers along the TILTING RAILING, heading for the watersports platform. Her gorgeous eyes shift nervously. TRILLIAN I'm going to be OK...I'm going to be OK... The ship's METAL HULL SCREECHES. The SEAWATER BUBBLES and GURGLES. From somewhere deep inside the ship, we HEAR that loud primordial YOWL again. Trillian freezes, her heart double beats. She looks around, really scared. CUT TO: 132 SAIPAN'S HOLD - NIGHT 132 The missile is on a hoist being pushed forward by Pantucci and Finnegan toward a GAPING HOLE in the PORT BOW. PANTUCCI You know what I think? I think our luck has just about run shit out... FINNEGAN A little to the left... PANTUCCI I think we gotta stop floating from one fucked up situation to the next... FINNEGAN Line it up now, nice and easy... The missile head is right in line with the hole in the bow. PANTUCCI I'm telling you, man, we got to give the future some serious thought. FINNEGAN I have been. PANTUCCI And what have you come up with? FINNEGAN How does an island sound to you? Pantucci looks at Finnegan quizically. This is news to him. CUT TO: 133 SAIPAN - NIGHT 133 The TIP of the WARHEAD creeps out through the hole. The body of the missile is just a hair too wide, which is good, because it jams itself nice and tight into the hole. CUT TO: 134 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 134 Trillian takes the tarp off the remaining jet ski. Pushes the swivel arm that holds it out over the railing. The PLATFORM TILTS! Trillian loses her balance. Almost goes over the

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FIRE and BUBBLES. Trillian looks around. Scared shitless. The bubbles clear just in time for her to see -- Chin, mouth open, eyes wide, screaming in agony, being ripped past her. She tries to fire her rifle. Too late. Trillian watches as Chin VANISHES down the shaft in a CLOUD OF BUBBLES. CUT TO: 100 KITCHEN - NIGHT 100 TRILLIAN BURSTS to the surface. FINNEGAN YANKS her up and out of the water. FINNEGAN You O.K.? Trillian can only nod, and gasp for breath. Canton and Hanover catch their breath, PANTING AWAY, waterlogged. Hanover reaches over to retrieve the rifle in Trillian's hand. Trillian points the barrel at him, and hits the safety. TRILLIAN (grim) Finders keepers. Mamooli bursts out of the water, falling on the floor, close to panic mode. MAMOOLI Where's Chin? TRILLIAN Gone... MAMOOLI This is not real! This is not bloody real! Finnegan TOPPLES a large, heavy metal BROILER onto the open floor gate, sealing the watery hole in the floor. There are two hatches in this room. The far hatch is closed. Mamooli stands next to an OPEN HATCH. Canton points to it. CANTON Through there...another sixty, seventy yards...there are more elevators there. PANTUCCI I ain't goin' up no more elevators. CANTON There's stairways... Mamooli SLAMS the HATCH SHUT. Eyes bugging out of his head. MAMOOLI I say we stay right here! PANTUCCI Are you crazy? MAMOOLI (desperate) There's plenty of food here. We can hold out...someone'll rescue us... FINNEGAN Who? MAMOOLI Someone...maybe they sent an SOS! PANTUCCI On what? This son of a bitch (to Canton) zapped the communications. HANOVER Mamooli stand down! MAMOOLI We don't even know if his boat is still there...you saw Billy! FINNEGAN Boat or no boat...I'm going... Finnegan steps forward. Mamooli aims his rifle right at Finnegan's head. MAMOOLI They're wipin' us out one at a time. I say we make a stand. Right here! Right now! Maximum firepower! PANTUCCI Somebody shoot this jerk! FINNEGAN (calm) Nobody's shooting nobody...come on, just let us through the hatch! MAMOOLI I'll kill you!! I'll fucking kill you!! I'll do it! I'll do it! I'm not playin' around here! Finnegan freezes. CLOSE ON: The hatch. As a BLACK LIQUID starts to OOZE through a tiny latch-hole. No one sees it. FINNEGAN I once saw a guy put a fish in a bottle, then he corked it, sealing it tight, and threw it to a baby octopus. The little sucker felt its way around that bottle, and in less than two minutes, got that cork off, slid inside, and ate that fish. MAMOOLI What the hell are you talking about? FINNEGAN Us...I'm talking about us... We're the fish. The LIQUID SHADOW OOZES down and hits the floor, starts to EXPAND, filling like a water balloon. It's not a liquid. It's a Tentacle. VEINS, FEELERS and SUCKERS begin to form. MAMOOLI And what? These things are octopuses FINNEGAN I don't know what these things are ...all I know is... The TENTACLE slowly RISES UP right behind Mamooli. Inches behind his head. Finnegan and Hanover see it. Eyes widening. MAMOOLI What...? What?? Mamooli turns to the tentacle looming over him, about to strike. MAMOOLI (CONT'D) EEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH!!!! He opens fire, emptying his clip into the tentacle. The tentacle retreats into the pipes. Mamooli looks around. The room is empty. He runs out. CUT TO: 101 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 101 Mamooli rushes into the empty passageway, looks left. Then right. His POV. Down the hall another TENTACLE comes racing at him. Mamooli panics, drops his rifle. TRACK WITH Mamooli racing down the hallway, looking over his shoulder in fear, as the tentacle comes racing after him...gaining...gaining... almost on him... Mamooli leaps through an open hatch, and swings it shut in one swift motion. The tentacle slams into the glass portal. Stopped. Mamooli keeps his eye on the portal, and backs up two steps. He lets out a long deep breath of relief, turns... WHAM!!! Another tentacle envelops his face! MAMOOLI EEEYYYAAAHHHH!!!!! CUT TO: 102 MECHANICAL CHAMBER - NIGHT 102 Dante's Inferno: STEAM, SMOKE, FIRE, STRANGE NOISES, DARK AREAS, and lots of MOVING ENGINE PARTS. Finnegan leads, followed by Trillian, Hanover, Pantucci, and Canton. We can HEAR their HEARTS BEATING. Scary shit. Finnegan heads for a open HATCH. It suddenly SLAMS SHUT. He instantly VEERS down another passageway. PANTUCCI What the hell is going on!! Finnegan heads for another open HATCHWAY. It also SLAMS SHUT. FINNEGAN They're herding us. Finnegan and company keep going. HANOVER What are you talking about? As they round a corner, the CEILING IMPLODES right in front of them. PIPES and OTHER MATTER CRASH down. Cutting them off. Leaving only one route open...a slim passageway. FINNEGAN Like cattle... TRILLIAN You're saying they can think? FINNEGAN I'm saying they're calling the shots... Finnegan heads toward the passageway. CANTON Do we have to go there? The ceiling left above them begins to torque, and splits. The answer is plain. Everyone runs into the passage just as the ceiling comes down. CUT TO: 103 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 103 Finnegan leads them single-file, they quickly head into a SHAKING narrow void. Fear has led to silence, and unbearable tension. The walls on either side creak, and moan with strange noises. CUT TO: 104 MID-HULL - NIGHT 104 Finnegan quickly comes out of the CREAKING, MOANING GANGWAY, followed by the others. All the STRANGE NOISES suddenly STOP. Everything gets quiet. Finnegan freezes. Something's wrong. Everybody looks around. STEAM SHOOTS OUT from multiple pipes. The air is thick with MIST. TRILLIAN What's the matter? FINNEGAN The quiet... HANOVER Maybe we lost them. FINNEGAN Or maybe we're exactly where they want us to be. Finnegan moves on. The others follow. Guns out front. TENSE. They round a huge metal pillar and come face-to-face with a soul-wrenching nightmare. The CREATURES' NEST -- OR STOMACH. Across a small portion of the ship's midsection, is a huge GELATINOUS WOMB. Imagine a massive thick wall of clear-yellow JELL-O, with hundreds of BLUE VEINS running through it. If it weren't all so horrific, it would be considered beautiful. Inside the womb, A DOZEN HUMANS, passengers, float around in some kind of twisted embryonic state, the living dead. They all seem to be breathing the gelatin. Several TENTACLES WRIGGLE through the stuff; which divides and re forms in some sort of strange mitosis. Finnegan and the others look at the passengers, horrified. But even more horrifying is that the people can look back at them. Many start to reach out, seemingly in slow motion as their hands ooze through the thick gelatin. Trillian looks sick, trembles in fear. TRILLIAN What is it? FINNEGAN A meat locker. TRILLIAN We can't just leave them here. Canton looks like he's about to throw up, he starts backing away, heading for a side hatch. CANTON I can. In the womb, a Tentacle suddenly approaches a sexy young LADY. The Lady tries to back-pedal away, but because of the gelatin, it's like one of those nightmares where you can only move in slow motion. The FEELERS GRIP her naked thigh. She tries to scream, but her face is already starting to constrict, her whole body is being paralyzed. Pantucci is so horrified he's about to cry. PANTUCCI Oh no...oh God please no. The TENTACLE-SAC gloms onto the Lady's forehead. THROUGH THE SAC we can SEE her SKIN MELTING. The only thing she can move are her EYES, which are bugging-out in absolute horror as she is imbibed alive. Our heroes are frozen in fear. Until the Lady's EYES LIQUEFY. Trillian burries her head in Finnegan's shoulder, trying to shut out the horror. FINNEGAN We can't do anything for them... Let's go... He begins to lead her toward the hatch...when her eyes recognized the old lady with the orchid in her hair. The old lady seems to see her too. Her hands read out, IMPLORING. Her mouth silently shapes the words: HELP ME! Just as a tentacle comes creeping toward her. TRILLIAN NOOO!! Her rage rises. She hefts her rifle, and starts blasting away. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) You won't get her!! You won't!! Spitting FLAMES and SMOKE. The BULLETS IMPACT the gelatin. BLASTING IT AWAY. But the bullets only manage to go about twenty feet into the thick shit before gliding to a stop. GELATIN EXPLODES all over the place. TRACER HOLES STREAK through the stuff. But all the bullets are sliding short. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) Finnegan...do something!! Please!! Finnegan looks around and spots the place in the ceiling where most of the Tentacles are coming from. Their long TAILS WIGGLE down from a massive clutter of pipes. A bas-relief of horror. Finnegan reaches over and yanks two thermite grenades off Hanover's utility belt. HANOVER Finnegan, No!!! ...bites the pins and spits them out. FINNEGAN Eat this. He chucks the grenades up into the strange WRITHING FRESCO, safely clear of the passengers. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) FIRE IN THE HOLE! Pantucci and Hanover throw themselves to the floor. Finnegan pulls Trillian down, covering her. BA-WOOM! GELATIN SPRAYS EVERYWHERE. CUT TO: 105 FUJI MARU - SAME TIME 105 A loud, creepy, suction-like SOUND is HEARD, that strange pitter- patter of little feet running across the hull. Then the HULL begins to MOAN and CREAK from an UNSEEN PRESSURE. CUT TO: 106 MID HULL - NIGHT 106 All the MOVEMENT STOPS. The remaining TENTACLES VANISH into the machinery. Pantucci, and Hanover look up from the floor, covered in slime. Finnegan and Trillian also look up...and then look at each other face to face...inches apart. Dripping with slime. FINNEGAN Looking good... TRILLIAN You should talk... Then the machinery shuts down. The engines go dead. ALL SOUND CUTS OUT. An expectant hush. Somewhere, WATER DRIPS... WE GO EXTREMELY CLOSE ON Trillian's EYES. Pantucci's EYES. Hanover's EYES. Finnegan's EYES. The air is riddled with ominous expectation. And that's when the HULL BEGINS TO TORQUE. RIVETS POP and SNAP. WATER SPRAYS. METAL BUCKLES. 107 SHOT: 107 At the far end of the ship, part of the LOWER BOW RIPS OPEN! AND A WALL OF WATER RUSHES IN. FLOOD CITY! Finnegan's eyes widen as he sees (MODEL SHOT) the massive WAVE OF WATER CRASHING TOWARDS THEM. RIPPING OUT PIPES, DUCTS, WALLS, EQUIPMENT and EVERYTHING in front of it. FINNEGAN GO! GO! GO! They all hightail it for hatches. Finnegan and Trillian make it into one hatch. Hanover and Pantucci make it into another. WATER CRASHES and SPRAYS behind them. CUT TO: 108 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 108 Massive AIR BUBBLES EXPLODE out from under the bow. CUT TO: 109 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 109 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH up and down every passageway. And a CLAXTON RINGS, in accelerating tones, giving a frenetic urgency to ALL OF THE FOLLOWING SCENES: 110 A PASSAGEWAY: 110 WATER BLASTS through a hatch and CHASES Finnegan and Trillian down a passageway. They jag left at an intersection -- WATER BLASTS through the hatch directly in front of them. FINNEGAN We're going to sink! We've got to get on deck! They backtrack. Trillian's now in the lead. They HAUL ASS down a hallway. WATER ROARING IN from everywhere behind them. All of the watertight HATCHES begin to hydraulically CLOSE. Trillian and Finnegan JAG into a hatch. It's a small room. The hatch in front of them closes. WATER BLASTS in behind them. SWEEPS them off their feet. The ROOM quickly starts to FILL UP. Trillian pulls frantically at the hatch. CUT TO: 111 NARROW PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 111 Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through knee-high water. Pantucci stumbles into the water, frantically scrambles up. He looks back -- UNDER THE WATER, INKY FORMS hurl themselves down the passageway right towards him. Pantucci YELPS, and splashes away. CUT TO: 112 SUBMERGING ROOM - NIGHT 112 Trillian and Finnegan pull with all their might on a tiny portal. Finnegan tries to insert the blade of his knife in the crack. TRILLIAN So how do you get from the Bronx to the South China sea? FINNEGAN You quit high school, lie about your age, join the navy, and next thing you know, four years are up and you need a way to make a living... The knife blade slips into the crack. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) I'll break the seal! Pull. He yanks the blade. Trillian pulls. The seal pops. The portal flies open. Waist-high in water, Trillian sticks her arm out, tries to get her shoulder out, but there's no chance in hell of that. TRILLIAN Too small! She pulls her arm out. And a TENTACLE LUNGES IN. Just missing Trillian. It SPLASHES under the water. GRABS Finnegan's ankle. Pulls him under. FINNEGAN sticks the barrel of his gun underwater and OPENS FIRE. WATER EXPLODES. The Tentacle recoils. And rips itself back out the porthole. Trillian SLAMS the PORTHOLE SHUT and dogs it tight. The WATER QUICKLY RISES. CUT TO: 113 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 113 Pantucci and Hanover hauling ass. Hanover pulls out his last two Thermite grenades. Pantucci panics and grabs for them. PANTUCCI Gimme one! Gimme one! He knocks both of them out of Hanover's hands. They DISAPPEAR under the water. HANOVER You idiot! They quickly fumble around in the water, trying to find them. A TENTACLE BLASTS around the corner. Partially obscured by the wave in front of it. Heading right for them. Hanover finds the two grenades. Gives one to Pantucci. They rip the pins out and toss the grenades behind them. Then HAUL ASS faster. The Tentacle right behind them. A BEAT. And then the GRENADES EXPLODE, BA-WOOM! BA-WOOM! CUT TO: 114 FUJI MARY - NIGHT 114 The storm hammers the deck. Canton staggers out onto the RAIN SLICKED DECK just in time to see -- A HOLE BEING BLOWN OUT the side of the Fuji Maru's HULL. BUBBLES continue to EXPLODE OUT from under the bow. CANTON Oh my God, it's going to sink. Then slowly, Canton gets a gleam in his eye, now thrilled. CANTON (CONT'D) It's going to sink. CUT TO: 115 SUBMERGED ROOM - NIGHT 115 Finnegan and Trillian are getting banged around the frothy WATER as it quickly RISES. Now only inches from the ceiling. Trapped. They're about to drown. Finnegan keeps looking around, trying to figure a way out. TRILLIAN I was so goddamn close, Finnegan! So goddamn close to my island... I could almost taste the sand... FINNEGAN Keep tasting... Finnegan shoves the pulse rifle to the ceiling. And blasts away until part of the ceiling falls out and into the water. There's just enough room between two metal beams to get out. The rising WATER SHOVES them up through the hole. CUT TO: 116 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 116 Side-by-side, Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through waist-high water. They round a corner and look back -- INKY FORMS SLOSH around the corner. Heading right for them. They slog faster. PANTUCCI They're catchin' up! They're catchin' up! We gotta slow 'em down! HANOVER Feed them. That'll slow them down. A black STRIATED MUSCLE ROILS out of the foamy water, then quickly VANISHES under it, heading straight for them. PANTUCCI Feed 'em?!! Okay! All right! Feed 'em what? WHAT ARE WE GONNA FEED 'EM?! Hanover takes his pistol and SHOOTS Pantucci in the leg, BLAM! Pantucci SCREAMS. FALLS into the water. Hanover RUNS on. Pantucci doesn't even have time to deal with the pain. He starts SCRAMBLING through the water. UNDERWATER, the INKY FORMS RACE AFTER HIM. Only meters away. Pantucci throws himself into the opening of a dumbwaiter. SLAMS the DOOR SHUT. The TENTACLE ATTACKS the door. WORMING its way across the surface, trying to find a way inside. Pantucci is scared beyond his pain. Pushing back as far as he can against the rear wall, he sees the control button. He presses the up arrow. The dumbwaiter starts to move. CUT TO: 117 FUJI MARU REAR DECK - DAY 117 The Saipan is still bobbing behind the Fuji Maru. But the HARPOON HOOK, which holds the tow-line and is embedded into the rear deck of the ship, is starting to PRY LOOSE. It JERKS and BUCKS against the metal wall. Canton doesn't notice this as he slips and slides his way up to the railing. He sees the Saipan and smiles. Then he looks off at -- 118 ISLAND 118 rising out of the ocean. About a mile away. Canton starts to climb over the railing. And that's when the HARPOON HOOK RIPS FREE. WHIZZES FORWARD. And IMPALES Canton's LEG. He SCREAMS. Tries to spin free. The hook hangs onto his leg for a long, agonizing BEAT as Canton continues to SCREAM. Then the HOOK RIPS FREE, grabs the METAL RAILING and starts TEARING IT off the deck. Canton drops to the deck, holding his leg and whimpering in pain. And then he sees it -- 119 SPEEDBOAT 119 dangling from its harness down on the watersports platform. 120 TO SCENE 120 Canton starts to crawl for it. Moaning and bleeding. CUT TO: 121 CRYSTAL POOL DECK - NIGHT 121 Finnegan and Trillian race up onto the pool deck. Passing beneath a colorful NEON SIGN which READS: "THE FUJI MARU - YOUR FUN SHIP" In the dark, Trillian trips. She falls to the slippery, waterlogged deck, and SCREAMS... TRILLIAN EEEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH! ...clawing at her face... Finnegan pulls her hands from her face...and the thing that attached itself there...a small squid from the shattered aquarium. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) (freaked) Ah...ah...ah... Tries to catch her breath. FINNEGAN It's OK...it's not one of them... it's from the aquarium...it's... And then it dawns on Finnegan. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's not them...it's it... TRILLIAN What? FINNEGAN You know what kind of force it took to rip open the bow of this ship? A million little things like this... He holds up the squid. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...can't exert that kind of pressure... And the way it tracked us? A million little things don't carry portable phones to coordinate positions... What's chasing us... it's one...thing...one giant... thing. SMASH CUT TO: 122 ARIAL POV - MATTE FX SHOT - NIGHT 122 ...looking down on the Fuji Maru from high up in the air. Beneath the ENTIRE SHIP is an enormous, undulating BLACK SHADOW. A massive monster from the deep. CUT TO: 123 CASINO - NIGHT 123 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH. The CLAXTON RINGS. Off to one side of a wall, behind the bar, the dumbwaiter door opens, and Pantucci tumbles out, looks around, and then hears... HANOVER (V.O.) Help!! Help!! Pantucci limps around the bar, down a row of one armed bandits... rounds a corner, comes face-to-face with Hanover. Hanover's eyes are filled with terror and despair. His face is badly constricted. His body paralyzed. He clings to a black-jack table as a Tentacle-Sac drinks its way up his leg. It's already to his hip. He grasps desperately for his pistol, just beyond his reach on the floor. This guy ain't gonna survive. PANTUCCI YELPS and quickly back away, eyes wide, totally tense. He looks around, sees that there's only one Tentacle, and it's completely occupied with devouring Hanover. Pantucci is wigged, but manages to lock eyes with Hanover. Then he looks at the Sac, filled with regurgitated flesh. PANTUCCI ...even you don't deserve this. Pantucci picks up Hanover's pistol. Then slowly, cautiously, he creeps forward, and sticks the gun into Hanover's TWITCHING HAND. PANTUCCI (CONT'D) I'm sorry man... He turns and quickly limps off. Hanover's EYES look down at the gun in his hand. Then, with all the strength he has left, he slowly, painfully, turns the pistol so it points at his head. CLOSE ON: Hanover's trembling FINGER. As it slowly squeezes the trigger. He want to kill himself. Needs to hill himself. He squeezes harder. The TRIGGER DEPRESSES! -- CLICK! The gun is empty. Hanover's mouth opens in a horrible, silent scream. CUT TO: 124 REAR DECK - SAME TIME 124 Finnegan and Trillian race out onto the rear deck just as the HARPOON HOOK finishes TEARING the railing off the ship. The HOOK, the TOW- LINE, and the ENTIRE RAILING DROP over the side and fall OUT OF SIGHT. The TWO BOATS are now UNCOUPLED. Finnegan reels at the rain soaked sky. FINNEGAN Will somebody give me a break here? And that's when Finnegan and Trillian hear the SOUND of a HYDRAULIC HOIST. They look over -- 125 AT THE WATERSPORTS PLATFORM: 125 The speedboat is being hydraulically lowered into the water. Canton sits inside, fiddling with the ignition. ANGLE ON: Trillian and Finnegan racing down the spiral stairs leading to the watersports platform. TRILLIAN Wait! Stop! The boat touches down into the water. CANTON I'd like to but I have an appointment with my insurance broker! He HITS the HOIST-RELEASE BUTTON. The speedboat breaks free. Canton HITS the IGNITION. The boat's ENGINE ROARS. CANTON (CONT'D) Life takes the damndest turns, doesn't it? He red-lines the THROTTLE. The SPEEDBOAT HAULS ASS away from the cruiseliner. Canton steers for the island. Smiling. ANGLE ON: Trillian IN HER RAGE... TRILLIAN You son of a bitch!! She grabs Finnegan's pulse rifle, hefts it to her shoulder... FINNEGAN Look! He forces her to look in the distance. Their POV. The island. TRILLIAN Oh my god! Oh my god! How do we do it? How do we get there? FINNEGAN Not like him. Finnegan points to the water...and an INKY PSEUDOPOD FORM racing after the speedboat underwater. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's the engine...it can hear the engine...it goes for the loudest sound... The Tentacle quickly picks up speed, going faster and faster, getting closer and closer, stretching further and further. Suddenly, behind them, a METALLIC THRASHING SOUND is HEARD. They turn around and look -- The hook, the tow-line, and the entire railing have dropped down onto the watersports platform and are tangled up around the two jet skis, trying to tear free -- The Saipan is still clinging by its fingernails to the Fuji Maru! Finnegan races over to a WINCH and grabs the winch- line. CUT TO: 126 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 126 Canton, smiling brightly, peers at the approaching island through the speedboat's windscreen. So relieved he sings to himself, from the operetta H.M.S. PINAFORE. CANTON Oh we sail the ocean blue, and our mighty ship's a beauty. We are strong men, yes it's true, and responsive to our duty... When...YANK!!...the SPEEDBOAT is GRABBED from below, practically exploding as it DISINTEGRATES into TWO PIECES. Canton is PROPELLED through the windscreen and onto the hood. CUT TO: 127 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 127 Finnegan struggles to clip the winch-line onto the tow-line, hanging precariously over the edge of the ship, clip in one hand, winch-line in the other. The whole METAL MESS is BUCKING and TWISTING and SCREECHING. His every joint is being ripped out of socket as he strains to get the clip on the line before the entire rig tears away into the sea. With one last heroic effort of will and grit, he snaps the clip in place just as it all BREAKS LOOSE. One of the JET SKIS and the ENTIRE RAILING are RIPPED over the side and fall down into the ocean. Finnegan is also YANKED over the side, but he manages to hold on by his fingers, dangling precariously. FINNEGAN Hit it! Hit it! The HOOK and the TOW-LINE drop -- then SNAP TAUGHT as the winch-line holds them tight. Trillian throws the start lever on the winch. The WINCH KICKS ON and starts reeling in the Saipan. Finnegan tries to crawl up on the deck, exhausted. Trillian reaches down and pulls him the rest of the way up. He half collapses on top of her. TRILLIAN You know, Finnegan, I'm starting to believe what you said about you not being born to die on a luxury liner. Despite the grimness of their position, the closeness of their bodies is...a turn on...to both of them...and then a SCREAM from the sea. They look in the direction of... CUT TO: 128 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 128 Canton is pinned to the hood of the speedboat, his face shredded by glass, his leg mangled, screaming as his panicked eyes watch a TENTACLE slowly squirm across the hood toward him, it's hideous feelers writhe and arch. Canton backs away from it as far as he can. Another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up next to him. Canton crawls away from that one. Its Feelers and Suckers unsheathe, dripping mucus. Canton's eyes widen, horrified. Then another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up. Canton crawls to the center of the hood. And another TENTACLE. Canton has nowhere to go. The Tentacles close in on him. CANTON No! No! No! All the tentacles rise over him, about to descend. CANTON (CONT'D) NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! CUT TO: 129 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 129 Finnegan and Trillian race for all they are worth, clamber over the side of the Fuji Maru, dropping to the deck of the Saipan. CUT TO: 130 SAIPAN - NIGHT 130 Finnegan and Trillian slowly clamber through the hold, waist deep in water, on edge, eyes wide, watching for any sign of trouble. It's quiet in here. Maybe too quiet. TRILLIAN (quietly) Finnegan... FINNEGAN Yeah... TRILLIAN ...the minute you start your engines ...it's going to kill us, isn't it? They step up to one of the big CRATES. Finnegan starts SMASHING it with the butt of his pulse-rifle. The CRATE BURST OPEN. REVEALING the WARHEAD of the torpedo. Trillian is stunned. FINNEGAN Not unless we kill it first. Finnegan SMASHES more of the CRATE, it falls apart, REVEALING the entire torpedo. He hands her his pulse rifle. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) Anything moves, you shoot. Finnegan starts to yank open the top plates of the missile head. Trillian looks around nervously. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) There's not much horsepower left in the engines, but there's enough noise...once this baby's set...I'll rev it up...that slimy bastard will come for it like candy... TRILLIAN If you blow up your boat, how are we going to get to the island? FINNEGAN Jet ski...there's one left up there. The plate comes loose. Revealing a gaggle of wires, and parts. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...let's see, it was red wire cross compressor blue wire...or blue cross red? He starts to fiddle with the wires. -- Suddenly, there's a LOUD SLOSHING SOUND right behind them! CRATES TOPPLE! More pulse rifles spill out. Trillian spins, ready to blast away with the pulse rifle, to... PANTUCCI Don't shoot!! Don't shoot!! FINNEGAN Just the man I wanted to see. On this puppy here, you remember if it's red to blue or blue to red... He refers to the wires. PANTUCCI Not even a Joey, I'm glad to see you? Joey, what happened to your leg? FINNEGAN Joey, you want to get sucked out by a giant fucking mutated squid? PANTUCCI (fast) Red cross over to blue double blue ...is that what it is? A squid? FINNEGAN Squid...squid like...squid type... it's got tentacles, a feed sac... probably one central nervous processor somewhere...what the hell do I know is going on deep down in the ocean...there's all sorts of shit we've never seen...eighty foot clams...60 foot sharks...I'm just guessing...can you get me more juice out of Hercules...fast? PANTUCCI For juice, I gotta rebuild. That's not fast. TRILLIAN How about noise? Can you get noise? We don't need speed, just noise, right? FINNEGAN Right... PANTUCCI Can somebody tell me what the object of the exercise is here? FINNEGAN Seafood salad. (to Trillian) You ever operate a jet ski? TRILLIAN (nervous) You want ME to go up there? FINNEGAN Not unless you can wire a missile or fix an engine. TRILLIAN And what if I run into one of those things? Finnegan tosses her a pulse rifle from the overturned crate. FINNEGAN Don't forget the safety. She hits the safety, slams a shell into chamber... TRILLIAN Don't take too long...I'm not planning on being on the menu tonight. ...and exits. PANTUCCI (razzing) I've never seen you so congenial with a member of the opposite sex... The two of you got a nice patter going...got a nice rapport... FINNEGAN And you got 10 minutes before this thing livens up a boring evening. Finnegan attaches a wire to a sprocket. A red light starts to blink on the warhead. CUT TO: 131 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 131 It is VERY DARK. The RAIN is getting worse. THUNDER RUMBLES. LIGHTNING FLASHES. The FUJI MARU MOANS and CREAKS. BUBBLES EXPLODE from beneath it. The Saipan rocks against her hull. Trillian clambers along the TILTING RAILING, heading for the watersports platform. Her gorgeous eyes shift nervously. TRILLIAN I'm going to be OK...I'm going to be OK... The ship's METAL HULL SCREECHES. The SEAWATER BUBBLES and GURGLES. From somewhere deep inside the ship, we HEAR that loud primordial YOWL again. Trillian freezes, her heart double beats. She looks around, really scared. CUT TO: 132 SAIPAN'S HOLD - NIGHT 132 The missile is on a hoist being pushed forward by Pantucci and Finnegan toward a GAPING HOLE in the PORT BOW. PANTUCCI You know what I think? I think our luck has just about run shit out... FINNEGAN A little to the left... PANTUCCI I think we gotta stop floating from one fucked up situation to the next... FINNEGAN Line it up now, nice and easy... The missile head is right in line with the hole in the bow. PANTUCCI I'm telling you, man, we got to give the future some serious thought. FINNEGAN I have been. PANTUCCI And what have you come up with? FINNEGAN How does an island sound to you? Pantucci looks at Finnegan quizically. This is news to him. CUT TO: 133 SAIPAN - NIGHT 133 The TIP of the WARHEAD creeps out through the hole. The body of the missile is just a hair too wide, which is good, because it jams itself nice and tight into the hole. CUT TO: 134 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 134 Trillian takes the tarp off the remaining jet ski. Pushes the swivel arm that holds it out over the railing. The PLATFORM TILTS! Trillian loses her balance. Almost goes over the

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FIRE and BUBBLES. Trillian looks around. Scared shitless. The bubbles clear just in time for her to see -- Chin, mouth open, eyes wide, screaming in agony, being ripped past her. She tries to fire her rifle. Too late. Trillian watches as Chin VANISHES down the shaft in a CLOUD OF BUBBLES. CUT TO: 100 KITCHEN - NIGHT 100 TRILLIAN BURSTS to the surface. FINNEGAN YANKS her up and out of the water. FINNEGAN You O.K.? Trillian can only nod, and gasp for breath. Canton and Hanover catch their breath, PANTING AWAY, waterlogged. Hanover reaches over to retrieve the rifle in Trillian's hand. Trillian points the barrel at him, and hits the safety. TRILLIAN (grim) Finders keepers. Mamooli bursts out of the water, falling on the floor, close to panic mode. MAMOOLI Where's Chin? TRILLIAN Gone... MAMOOLI This is not real! This is not bloody real! Finnegan TOPPLES a large, heavy metal BROILER onto the open floor gate, sealing the watery hole in the floor. There are two hatches in this room. The far hatch is closed. Mamooli stands next to an OPEN HATCH. Canton points to it. CANTON Through there...another sixty, seventy yards...there are more elevators there. PANTUCCI I ain't goin' up no more elevators. CANTON There's stairways... Mamooli SLAMS the HATCH SHUT. Eyes bugging out of his head. MAMOOLI I say we stay right here! PANTUCCI Are you crazy? MAMOOLI (desperate) There's plenty of food here. We can hold out...someone'll rescue us... FINNEGAN Who? MAMOOLI Someone...maybe they sent an SOS! PANTUCCI On what? This son of a bitch (to Canton) zapped the communications. HANOVER Mamooli stand down! MAMOOLI We don't even know if his boat is still there...you saw Billy! FINNEGAN Boat or no boat...I'm going... Finnegan steps forward. Mamooli aims his rifle right at Finnegan's head. MAMOOLI They're wipin' us out one at a time. I say we make a stand. Right here! Right now! Maximum firepower! PANTUCCI Somebody shoot this jerk! FINNEGAN (calm) Nobody's shooting nobody...come on, just let us through the hatch! MAMOOLI I'll kill you!! I'll fucking kill you!! I'll do it! I'll do it! I'm not playin' around here! Finnegan freezes. CLOSE ON: The hatch. As a BLACK LIQUID starts to OOZE through a tiny latch-hole. No one sees it. FINNEGAN I once saw a guy put a fish in a bottle, then he corked it, sealing it tight, and threw it to a baby octopus. The little sucker felt its way around that bottle, and in less than two minutes, got that cork off, slid inside, and ate that fish. MAMOOLI What the hell are you talking about? FINNEGAN Us...I'm talking about us... We're the fish. The LIQUID SHADOW OOZES down and hits the floor, starts to EXPAND, filling like a water balloon. It's not a liquid. It's a Tentacle. VEINS, FEELERS and SUCKERS begin to form. MAMOOLI And what? These things are octopuses FINNEGAN I don't know what these things are ...all I know is... The TENTACLE slowly RISES UP right behind Mamooli. Inches behind his head. Finnegan and Hanover see it. Eyes widening. MAMOOLI What...? What?? Mamooli turns to the tentacle looming over him, about to strike. MAMOOLI (CONT'D) EEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH!!!! He opens fire, emptying his clip into the tentacle. The tentacle retreats into the pipes. Mamooli looks around. The room is empty. He runs out. CUT TO: 101 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 101 Mamooli rushes into the empty passageway, looks left. Then right. His POV. Down the hall another TENTACLE comes racing at him. Mamooli panics, drops his rifle. TRACK WITH Mamooli racing down the hallway, looking over his shoulder in fear, as the tentacle comes racing after him...gaining...gaining... almost on him... Mamooli leaps through an open hatch, and swings it shut in one swift motion. The tentacle slams into the glass portal. Stopped. Mamooli keeps his eye on the portal, and backs up two steps. He lets out a long deep breath of relief, turns... WHAM!!! Another tentacle envelops his face! MAMOOLI EEEYYYAAAHHHH!!!!! CUT TO: 102 MECHANICAL CHAMBER - NIGHT 102 Dante's Inferno: STEAM, SMOKE, FIRE, STRANGE NOISES, DARK AREAS, and lots of MOVING ENGINE PARTS. Finnegan leads, followed by Trillian, Hanover, Pantucci, and Canton. We can HEAR their HEARTS BEATING. Scary shit. Finnegan heads for a open HATCH. It suddenly SLAMS SHUT. He instantly VEERS down another passageway. PANTUCCI What the hell is going on!! Finnegan heads for another open HATCHWAY. It also SLAMS SHUT. FINNEGAN They're herding us. Finnegan and company keep going. HANOVER What are you talking about? As they round a corner, the CEILING IMPLODES right in front of them. PIPES and OTHER MATTER CRASH down. Cutting them off. Leaving only one route open...a slim passageway. FINNEGAN Like cattle... TRILLIAN You're saying they can think? FINNEGAN I'm saying they're calling the shots... Finnegan heads toward the passageway. CANTON Do we have to go there? The ceiling left above them begins to torque, and splits. The answer is plain. Everyone runs into the passage just as the ceiling comes down. CUT TO: 103 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 103 Finnegan leads them single-file, they quickly head into a SHAKING narrow void. Fear has led to silence, and unbearable tension. The walls on either side creak, and moan with strange noises. CUT TO: 104 MID-HULL - NIGHT 104 Finnegan quickly comes out of the CREAKING, MOANING GANGWAY, followed by the others. All the STRANGE NOISES suddenly STOP. Everything gets quiet. Finnegan freezes. Something's wrong. Everybody looks around. STEAM SHOOTS OUT from multiple pipes. The air is thick with MIST. TRILLIAN What's the matter? FINNEGAN The quiet... HANOVER Maybe we lost them. FINNEGAN Or maybe we're exactly where they want us to be. Finnegan moves on. The others follow. Guns out front. TENSE. They round a huge metal pillar and come face-to-face with a soul-wrenching nightmare. The CREATURES' NEST -- OR STOMACH. Across a small portion of the ship's midsection, is a huge GELATINOUS WOMB. Imagine a massive thick wall of clear-yellow JELL-O, with hundreds of BLUE VEINS running through it. If it weren't all so horrific, it would be considered beautiful. Inside the womb, A DOZEN HUMANS, passengers, float around in some kind of twisted embryonic state, the living dead. They all seem to be breathing the gelatin. Several TENTACLES WRIGGLE through the stuff; which divides and re forms in some sort of strange mitosis. Finnegan and the others look at the passengers, horrified. But even more horrifying is that the people can look back at them. Many start to reach out, seemingly in slow motion as their hands ooze through the thick gelatin. Trillian looks sick, trembles in fear. TRILLIAN What is it? FINNEGAN A meat locker. TRILLIAN We can't just leave them here. Canton looks like he's about to throw up, he starts backing away, heading for a side hatch. CANTON I can. In the womb, a Tentacle suddenly approaches a sexy young LADY. The Lady tries to back-pedal away, but because of the gelatin, it's like one of those nightmares where you can only move in slow motion. The FEELERS GRIP her naked thigh. She tries to scream, but her face is already starting to constrict, her whole body is being paralyzed. Pantucci is so horrified he's about to cry. PANTUCCI Oh no...oh God please no. The TENTACLE-SAC gloms onto the Lady's forehead. THROUGH THE SAC we can SEE her SKIN MELTING. The only thing she can move are her EYES, which are bugging-out in absolute horror as she is imbibed alive. Our heroes are frozen in fear. Until the Lady's EYES LIQUEFY. Trillian burries her head in Finnegan's shoulder, trying to shut out the horror. FINNEGAN We can't do anything for them... Let's go... He begins to lead her toward the hatch...when her eyes recognized the old lady with the orchid in her hair. The old lady seems to see her too. Her hands read out, IMPLORING. Her mouth silently shapes the words: HELP ME! Just as a tentacle comes creeping toward her. TRILLIAN NOOO!! Her rage rises. She hefts her rifle, and starts blasting away. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) You won't get her!! You won't!! Spitting FLAMES and SMOKE. The BULLETS IMPACT the gelatin. BLASTING IT AWAY. But the bullets only manage to go about twenty feet into the thick shit before gliding to a stop. GELATIN EXPLODES all over the place. TRACER HOLES STREAK through the stuff. But all the bullets are sliding short. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) Finnegan...do something!! Please!! Finnegan looks around and spots the place in the ceiling where most of the Tentacles are coming from. Their long TAILS WIGGLE down from a massive clutter of pipes. A bas-relief of horror. Finnegan reaches over and yanks two thermite grenades off Hanover's utility belt. HANOVER Finnegan, No!!! ...bites the pins and spits them out. FINNEGAN Eat this. He chucks the grenades up into the strange WRITHING FRESCO, safely clear of the passengers. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) FIRE IN THE HOLE! Pantucci and Hanover throw themselves to the floor. Finnegan pulls Trillian down, covering her. BA-WOOM! GELATIN SPRAYS EVERYWHERE. CUT TO: 105 FUJI MARU - SAME TIME 105 A loud, creepy, suction-like SOUND is HEARD, that strange pitter- patter of little feet running across the hull. Then the HULL begins to MOAN and CREAK from an UNSEEN PRESSURE. CUT TO: 106 MID HULL - NIGHT 106 All the MOVEMENT STOPS. The remaining TENTACLES VANISH into the machinery. Pantucci, and Hanover look up from the floor, covered in slime. Finnegan and Trillian also look up...and then look at each other face to face...inches apart. Dripping with slime. FINNEGAN Looking good... TRILLIAN You should talk... Then the machinery shuts down. The engines go dead. ALL SOUND CUTS OUT. An expectant hush. Somewhere, WATER DRIPS... WE GO EXTREMELY CLOSE ON Trillian's EYES. Pantucci's EYES. Hanover's EYES. Finnegan's EYES. The air is riddled with ominous expectation. And that's when the HULL BEGINS TO TORQUE. RIVETS POP and SNAP. WATER SPRAYS. METAL BUCKLES. 107 SHOT: 107 At the far end of the ship, part of the LOWER BOW RIPS OPEN! AND A WALL OF WATER RUSHES IN. FLOOD CITY! Finnegan's eyes widen as he sees (MODEL SHOT) the massive WAVE OF WATER CRASHING TOWARDS THEM. RIPPING OUT PIPES, DUCTS, WALLS, EQUIPMENT and EVERYTHING in front of it. FINNEGAN GO! GO! GO! They all hightail it for hatches. Finnegan and Trillian make it into one hatch. Hanover and Pantucci make it into another. WATER CRASHES and SPRAYS behind them. CUT TO: 108 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 108 Massive AIR BUBBLES EXPLODE out from under the bow. CUT TO: 109 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 109 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH up and down every passageway. And a CLAXTON RINGS, in accelerating tones, giving a frenetic urgency to ALL OF THE FOLLOWING SCENES: 110 A PASSAGEWAY: 110 WATER BLASTS through a hatch and CHASES Finnegan and Trillian down a passageway. They jag left at an intersection -- WATER BLASTS through the hatch directly in front of them. FINNEGAN We're going to sink! We've got to get on deck! They backtrack. Trillian's now in the lead. They HAUL ASS down a hallway. WATER ROARING IN from everywhere behind them. All of the watertight HATCHES begin to hydraulically CLOSE. Trillian and Finnegan JAG into a hatch. It's a small room. The hatch in front of them closes. WATER BLASTS in behind them. SWEEPS them off their feet. The ROOM quickly starts to FILL UP. Trillian pulls frantically at the hatch. CUT TO: 111 NARROW PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 111 Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through knee-high water. Pantucci stumbles into the water, frantically scrambles up. He looks back -- UNDER THE WATER, INKY FORMS hurl themselves down the passageway right towards him. Pantucci YELPS, and splashes away. CUT TO: 112 SUBMERGING ROOM - NIGHT 112 Trillian and Finnegan pull with all their might on a tiny portal. Finnegan tries to insert the blade of his knife in the crack. TRILLIAN So how do you get from the Bronx to the South China sea? FINNEGAN You quit high school, lie about your age, join the navy, and next thing you know, four years are up and you need a way to make a living... The knife blade slips into the crack. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) I'll break the seal! Pull. He yanks the blade. Trillian pulls. The seal pops. The portal flies open. Waist-high in water, Trillian sticks her arm out, tries to get her shoulder out, but there's no chance in hell of that. TRILLIAN Too small! She pulls her arm out. And a TENTACLE LUNGES IN. Just missing Trillian. It SPLASHES under the water. GRABS Finnegan's ankle. Pulls him under. FINNEGAN sticks the barrel of his gun underwater and OPENS FIRE. WATER EXPLODES. The Tentacle recoils. And rips itself back out the porthole. Trillian SLAMS the PORTHOLE SHUT and dogs it tight. The WATER QUICKLY RISES. CUT TO: 113 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 113 Pantucci and Hanover hauling ass. Hanover pulls out his last two Thermite grenades. Pantucci panics and grabs for them. PANTUCCI Gimme one! Gimme one! He knocks both of them out of Hanover's hands. They DISAPPEAR under the water. HANOVER You idiot! They quickly fumble around in the water, trying to find them. A TENTACLE BLASTS around the corner. Partially obscured by the wave in front of it. Heading right for them. Hanover finds the two grenades. Gives one to Pantucci. They rip the pins out and toss the grenades behind them. Then HAUL ASS faster. The Tentacle right behind them. A BEAT. And then the GRENADES EXPLODE, BA-WOOM! BA-WOOM! CUT TO: 114 FUJI MARY - NIGHT 114 The storm hammers the deck. Canton staggers out onto the RAIN SLICKED DECK just in time to see -- A HOLE BEING BLOWN OUT the side of the Fuji Maru's HULL. BUBBLES continue to EXPLODE OUT from under the bow. CANTON Oh my God, it's going to sink. Then slowly, Canton gets a gleam in his eye, now thrilled. CANTON (CONT'D) It's going to sink. CUT TO: 115 SUBMERGED ROOM - NIGHT 115 Finnegan and Trillian are getting banged around the frothy WATER as it quickly RISES. Now only inches from the ceiling. Trapped. They're about to drown. Finnegan keeps looking around, trying to figure a way out. TRILLIAN I was so goddamn close, Finnegan! So goddamn close to my island... I could almost taste the sand... FINNEGAN Keep tasting... Finnegan shoves the pulse rifle to the ceiling. And blasts away until part of the ceiling falls out and into the water. There's just enough room between two metal beams to get out. The rising WATER SHOVES them up through the hole. CUT TO: 116 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 116 Side-by-side, Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through waist-high water. They round a corner and look back -- INKY FORMS SLOSH around the corner. Heading right for them. They slog faster. PANTUCCI They're catchin' up! They're catchin' up! We gotta slow 'em down! HANOVER Feed them. That'll slow them down. A black STRIATED MUSCLE ROILS out of the foamy water, then quickly VANISHES under it, heading straight for them. PANTUCCI Feed 'em?!! Okay! All right! Feed 'em what? WHAT ARE WE GONNA FEED 'EM?! Hanover takes his pistol and SHOOTS Pantucci in the leg, BLAM! Pantucci SCREAMS. FALLS into the water. Hanover RUNS on. Pantucci doesn't even have time to deal with the pain. He starts SCRAMBLING through the water. UNDERWATER, the INKY FORMS RACE AFTER HIM. Only meters away. Pantucci throws himself into the opening of a dumbwaiter. SLAMS the DOOR SHUT. The TENTACLE ATTACKS the door. WORMING its way across the surface, trying to find a way inside. Pantucci is scared beyond his pain. Pushing back as far as he can against the rear wall, he sees the control button. He presses the up arrow. The dumbwaiter starts to move. CUT TO: 117 FUJI MARU REAR DECK - DAY 117 The Saipan is still bobbing behind the Fuji Maru. But the HARPOON HOOK, which holds the tow-line and is embedded into the rear deck of the ship, is starting to PRY LOOSE. It JERKS and BUCKS against the metal wall. Canton doesn't notice this as he slips and slides his way up to the railing. He sees the Saipan and smiles. Then he looks off at -- 118 ISLAND 118 rising out of the ocean. About a mile away. Canton starts to climb over the railing. And that's when the HARPOON HOOK RIPS FREE. WHIZZES FORWARD. And IMPALES Canton's LEG. He SCREAMS. Tries to spin free. The hook hangs onto his leg for a long, agonizing BEAT as Canton continues to SCREAM. Then the HOOK RIPS FREE, grabs the METAL RAILING and starts TEARING IT off the deck. Canton drops to the deck, holding his leg and whimpering in pain. And then he sees it -- 119 SPEEDBOAT 119 dangling from its harness down on the watersports platform. 120 TO SCENE 120 Canton starts to crawl for it. Moaning and bleeding. CUT TO: 121 CRYSTAL POOL DECK - NIGHT 121 Finnegan and Trillian race up onto the pool deck. Passing beneath a colorful NEON SIGN which READS: "THE FUJI MARU - YOUR FUN SHIP" In the dark, Trillian trips. She falls to the slippery, waterlogged deck, and SCREAMS... TRILLIAN EEEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH! ...clawing at her face... Finnegan pulls her hands from her face...and the thing that attached itself there...a small squid from the shattered aquarium. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) (freaked) Ah...ah...ah... Tries to catch her breath. FINNEGAN It's OK...it's not one of them... it's from the aquarium...it's... And then it dawns on Finnegan. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's not them...it's it... TRILLIAN What? FINNEGAN You know what kind of force it took to rip open the bow of this ship? A million little things like this... He holds up the squid. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...can't exert that kind of pressure... And the way it tracked us? A million little things don't carry portable phones to coordinate positions... What's chasing us... it's one...thing...one giant... thing. SMASH CUT TO: 122 ARIAL POV - MATTE FX SHOT - NIGHT 122 ...looking down on the Fuji Maru from high up in the air. Beneath the ENTIRE SHIP is an enormous, undulating BLACK SHADOW. A massive monster from the deep. CUT TO: 123 CASINO - NIGHT 123 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH. The CLAXTON RINGS. Off to one side of a wall, behind the bar, the dumbwaiter door opens, and Pantucci tumbles out, looks around, and then hears... HANOVER (V.O.) Help!! Help!! Pantucci limps around the bar, down a row of one armed bandits... rounds a corner, comes face-to-face with Hanover. Hanover's eyes are filled with terror and despair. His face is badly constricted. His body paralyzed. He clings to a black-jack table as a Tentacle-Sac drinks its way up his leg. It's already to his hip. He grasps desperately for his pistol, just beyond his reach on the floor. This guy ain't gonna survive. PANTUCCI YELPS and quickly back away, eyes wide, totally tense. He looks around, sees that there's only one Tentacle, and it's completely occupied with devouring Hanover. Pantucci is wigged, but manages to lock eyes with Hanover. Then he looks at the Sac, filled with regurgitated flesh. PANTUCCI ...even you don't deserve this. Pantucci picks up Hanover's pistol. Then slowly, cautiously, he creeps forward, and sticks the gun into Hanover's TWITCHING HAND. PANTUCCI (CONT'D) I'm sorry man... He turns and quickly limps off. Hanover's EYES look down at the gun in his hand. Then, with all the strength he has left, he slowly, painfully, turns the pistol so it points at his head. CLOSE ON: Hanover's trembling FINGER. As it slowly squeezes the trigger. He want to kill himself. Needs to hill himself. He squeezes harder. The TRIGGER DEPRESSES! -- CLICK! The gun is empty. Hanover's mouth opens in a horrible, silent scream. CUT TO: 124 REAR DECK - SAME TIME 124 Finnegan and Trillian race out onto the rear deck just as the HARPOON HOOK finishes TEARING the railing off the ship. The HOOK, the TOW- LINE, and the ENTIRE RAILING DROP over the side and fall OUT OF SIGHT. The TWO BOATS are now UNCOUPLED. Finnegan reels at the rain soaked sky. FINNEGAN Will somebody give me a break here? And that's when Finnegan and Trillian hear the SOUND of a HYDRAULIC HOIST. They look over -- 125 AT THE WATERSPORTS PLATFORM: 125 The speedboat is being hydraulically lowered into the water. Canton sits inside, fiddling with the ignition. ANGLE ON: Trillian and Finnegan racing down the spiral stairs leading to the watersports platform. TRILLIAN Wait! Stop! The boat touches down into the water. CANTON I'd like to but I have an appointment with my insurance broker! He HITS the HOIST-RELEASE BUTTON. The speedboat breaks free. Canton HITS the IGNITION. The boat's ENGINE ROARS. CANTON (CONT'D) Life takes the damndest turns, doesn't it? He red-lines the THROTTLE. The SPEEDBOAT HAULS ASS away from the cruiseliner. Canton steers for the island. Smiling. ANGLE ON: Trillian IN HER RAGE... TRILLIAN You son of a bitch!! She grabs Finnegan's pulse rifle, hefts it to her shoulder... FINNEGAN Look! He forces her to look in the distance. Their POV. The island. TRILLIAN Oh my god! Oh my god! How do we do it? How do we get there? FINNEGAN Not like him. Finnegan points to the water...and an INKY PSEUDOPOD FORM racing after the speedboat underwater. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's the engine...it can hear the engine...it goes for the loudest sound... The Tentacle quickly picks up speed, going faster and faster, getting closer and closer, stretching further and further. Suddenly, behind them, a METALLIC THRASHING SOUND is HEARD. They turn around and look -- The hook, the tow-line, and the entire railing have dropped down onto the watersports platform and are tangled up around the two jet skis, trying to tear free -- The Saipan is still clinging by its fingernails to the Fuji Maru! Finnegan races over to a WINCH and grabs the winch- line. CUT TO: 126 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 126 Canton, smiling brightly, peers at the approaching island through the speedboat's windscreen. So relieved he sings to himself, from the operetta H.M.S. PINAFORE. CANTON Oh we sail the ocean blue, and our mighty ship's a beauty. We are strong men, yes it's true, and responsive to our duty... When...YANK!!...the SPEEDBOAT is GRABBED from below, practically exploding as it DISINTEGRATES into TWO PIECES. Canton is PROPELLED through the windscreen and onto the hood. CUT TO: 127 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 127 Finnegan struggles to clip the winch-line onto the tow-line, hanging precariously over the edge of the ship, clip in one hand, winch-line in the other. The whole METAL MESS is BUCKING and TWISTING and SCREECHING. His every joint is being ripped out of socket as he strains to get the clip on the line before the entire rig tears away into the sea. With one last heroic effort of will and grit, he snaps the clip in place just as it all BREAKS LOOSE. One of the JET SKIS and the ENTIRE RAILING are RIPPED over the side and fall down into the ocean. Finnegan is also YANKED over the side, but he manages to hold on by his fingers, dangling precariously. FINNEGAN Hit it! Hit it! The HOOK and the TOW-LINE drop -- then SNAP TAUGHT as the winch-line holds them tight. Trillian throws the start lever on the winch. The WINCH KICKS ON and starts reeling in the Saipan. Finnegan tries to crawl up on the deck, exhausted. Trillian reaches down and pulls him the rest of the way up. He half collapses on top of her. TRILLIAN You know, Finnegan, I'm starting to believe what you said about you not being born to die on a luxury liner. Despite the grimness of their position, the closeness of their bodies is...a turn on...to both of them...and then a SCREAM from the sea. They look in the direction of... CUT TO: 128 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 128 Canton is pinned to the hood of the speedboat, his face shredded by glass, his leg mangled, screaming as his panicked eyes watch a TENTACLE slowly squirm across the hood toward him, it's hideous feelers writhe and arch. Canton backs away from it as far as he can. Another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up next to him. Canton crawls away from that one. Its Feelers and Suckers unsheathe, dripping mucus. Canton's eyes widen, horrified. Then another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up. Canton crawls to the center of the hood. And another TENTACLE. Canton has nowhere to go. The Tentacles close in on him. CANTON No! No! No! All the tentacles rise over him, about to descend. CANTON (CONT'D) NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! CUT TO: 129 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 129 Finnegan and Trillian race for all they are worth, clamber over the side of the Fuji Maru, dropping to the deck of the Saipan. CUT TO: 130 SAIPAN - NIGHT 130 Finnegan and Trillian slowly clamber through the hold, waist deep in water, on edge, eyes wide, watching for any sign of trouble. It's quiet in here. Maybe too quiet. TRILLIAN (quietly) Finnegan... FINNEGAN Yeah... TRILLIAN ...the minute you start your engines ...it's going to kill us, isn't it? They step up to one of the big CRATES. Finnegan starts SMASHING it with the butt of his pulse-rifle. The CRATE BURST OPEN. REVEALING the WARHEAD of the torpedo. Trillian is stunned. FINNEGAN Not unless we kill it first. Finnegan SMASHES more of the CRATE, it falls apart, REVEALING the entire torpedo. He hands her his pulse rifle. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) Anything moves, you shoot. Finnegan starts to yank open the top plates of the missile head. Trillian looks around nervously. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) There's not much horsepower left in the engines, but there's enough noise...once this baby's set...I'll rev it up...that slimy bastard will come for it like candy... TRILLIAN If you blow up your boat, how are we going to get to the island? FINNEGAN Jet ski...there's one left up there. The plate comes loose. Revealing a gaggle of wires, and parts. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...let's see, it was red wire cross compressor blue wire...or blue cross red? He starts to fiddle with the wires. -- Suddenly, there's a LOUD SLOSHING SOUND right behind them! CRATES TOPPLE! More pulse rifles spill out. Trillian spins, ready to blast away with the pulse rifle, to... PANTUCCI Don't shoot!! Don't shoot!! FINNEGAN Just the man I wanted to see. On this puppy here, you remember if it's red to blue or blue to red... He refers to the wires. PANTUCCI Not even a Joey, I'm glad to see you? Joey, what happened to your leg? FINNEGAN Joey, you want to get sucked out by a giant fucking mutated squid? PANTUCCI (fast) Red cross over to blue double blue ...is that what it is? A squid? FINNEGAN Squid...squid like...squid type... it's got tentacles, a feed sac... probably one central nervous processor somewhere...what the hell do I know is going on deep down in the ocean...there's all sorts of shit we've never seen...eighty foot clams...60 foot sharks...I'm just guessing...can you get me more juice out of Hercules...fast? PANTUCCI For juice, I gotta rebuild. That's not fast. TRILLIAN How about noise? Can you get noise? We don't need speed, just noise, right? FINNEGAN Right... PANTUCCI Can somebody tell me what the object of the exercise is here? FINNEGAN Seafood salad. (to Trillian) You ever operate a jet ski? TRILLIAN (nervous) You want ME to go up there? FINNEGAN Not unless you can wire a missile or fix an engine. TRILLIAN And what if I run into one of those things? Finnegan tosses her a pulse rifle from the overturned crate. FINNEGAN Don't forget the safety. She hits the safety, slams a shell into chamber... TRILLIAN Don't take too long...I'm not planning on being on the menu tonight. ...and exits. PANTUCCI (razzing) I've never seen you so congenial with a member of the opposite sex... The two of you got a nice patter going...got a nice rapport... FINNEGAN And you got 10 minutes before this thing livens up a boring evening. Finnegan attaches a wire to a sprocket. A red light starts to blink on the warhead. CUT TO: 131 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 131 It is VERY DARK. The RAIN is getting worse. THUNDER RUMBLES. LIGHTNING FLASHES. The FUJI MARU MOANS and CREAKS. BUBBLES EXPLODE from beneath it. The Saipan rocks against her hull. Trillian clambers along the TILTING RAILING, heading for the watersports platform. Her gorgeous eyes shift nervously. TRILLIAN I'm going to be OK...I'm going to be OK... The ship's METAL HULL SCREECHES. The SEAWATER BUBBLES and GURGLES. From somewhere deep inside the ship, we HEAR that loud primordial YOWL again. Trillian freezes, her heart double beats. She looks around, really scared. CUT TO: 132 SAIPAN'S HOLD - NIGHT 132 The missile is on a hoist being pushed forward by Pantucci and Finnegan toward a GAPING HOLE in the PORT BOW. PANTUCCI You know what I think? I think our luck has just about run shit out... FINNEGAN A little to the left... PANTUCCI I think we gotta stop floating from one fucked up situation to the next... FINNEGAN Line it up now, nice and easy... The missile head is right in line with the hole in the bow. PANTUCCI I'm telling you, man, we got to give the future some serious thought. FINNEGAN I have been. PANTUCCI And what have you come up with? FINNEGAN How does an island sound to you? Pantucci looks at Finnegan quizically. This is news to him. CUT TO: 133 SAIPAN - NIGHT 133 The TIP of the WARHEAD creeps out through the hole. The body of the missile is just a hair too wide, which is good, because it jams itself nice and tight into the hole. CUT TO: 134 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 134 Trillian takes the tarp off the remaining jet ski. Pushes the swivel arm that holds it out over the railing. The PLATFORM TILTS! Trillian loses her balance. Almost goes over the

lights

How many times the word 'lights' appears in the text?

FIRE and BUBBLES. Trillian looks around. Scared shitless. The bubbles clear just in time for her to see -- Chin, mouth open, eyes wide, screaming in agony, being ripped past her. She tries to fire her rifle. Too late. Trillian watches as Chin VANISHES down the shaft in a CLOUD OF BUBBLES. CUT TO: 100 KITCHEN - NIGHT 100 TRILLIAN BURSTS to the surface. FINNEGAN YANKS her up and out of the water. FINNEGAN You O.K.? Trillian can only nod, and gasp for breath. Canton and Hanover catch their breath, PANTING AWAY, waterlogged. Hanover reaches over to retrieve the rifle in Trillian's hand. Trillian points the barrel at him, and hits the safety. TRILLIAN (grim) Finders keepers. Mamooli bursts out of the water, falling on the floor, close to panic mode. MAMOOLI Where's Chin? TRILLIAN Gone... MAMOOLI This is not real! This is not bloody real! Finnegan TOPPLES a large, heavy metal BROILER onto the open floor gate, sealing the watery hole in the floor. There are two hatches in this room. The far hatch is closed. Mamooli stands next to an OPEN HATCH. Canton points to it. CANTON Through there...another sixty, seventy yards...there are more elevators there. PANTUCCI I ain't goin' up no more elevators. CANTON There's stairways... Mamooli SLAMS the HATCH SHUT. Eyes bugging out of his head. MAMOOLI I say we stay right here! PANTUCCI Are you crazy? MAMOOLI (desperate) There's plenty of food here. We can hold out...someone'll rescue us... FINNEGAN Who? MAMOOLI Someone...maybe they sent an SOS! PANTUCCI On what? This son of a bitch (to Canton) zapped the communications. HANOVER Mamooli stand down! MAMOOLI We don't even know if his boat is still there...you saw Billy! FINNEGAN Boat or no boat...I'm going... Finnegan steps forward. Mamooli aims his rifle right at Finnegan's head. MAMOOLI They're wipin' us out one at a time. I say we make a stand. Right here! Right now! Maximum firepower! PANTUCCI Somebody shoot this jerk! FINNEGAN (calm) Nobody's shooting nobody...come on, just let us through the hatch! MAMOOLI I'll kill you!! I'll fucking kill you!! I'll do it! I'll do it! I'm not playin' around here! Finnegan freezes. CLOSE ON: The hatch. As a BLACK LIQUID starts to OOZE through a tiny latch-hole. No one sees it. FINNEGAN I once saw a guy put a fish in a bottle, then he corked it, sealing it tight, and threw it to a baby octopus. The little sucker felt its way around that bottle, and in less than two minutes, got that cork off, slid inside, and ate that fish. MAMOOLI What the hell are you talking about? FINNEGAN Us...I'm talking about us... We're the fish. The LIQUID SHADOW OOZES down and hits the floor, starts to EXPAND, filling like a water balloon. It's not a liquid. It's a Tentacle. VEINS, FEELERS and SUCKERS begin to form. MAMOOLI And what? These things are octopuses FINNEGAN I don't know what these things are ...all I know is... The TENTACLE slowly RISES UP right behind Mamooli. Inches behind his head. Finnegan and Hanover see it. Eyes widening. MAMOOLI What...? What?? Mamooli turns to the tentacle looming over him, about to strike. MAMOOLI (CONT'D) EEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH!!!! He opens fire, emptying his clip into the tentacle. The tentacle retreats into the pipes. Mamooli looks around. The room is empty. He runs out. CUT TO: 101 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 101 Mamooli rushes into the empty passageway, looks left. Then right. His POV. Down the hall another TENTACLE comes racing at him. Mamooli panics, drops his rifle. TRACK WITH Mamooli racing down the hallway, looking over his shoulder in fear, as the tentacle comes racing after him...gaining...gaining... almost on him... Mamooli leaps through an open hatch, and swings it shut in one swift motion. The tentacle slams into the glass portal. Stopped. Mamooli keeps his eye on the portal, and backs up two steps. He lets out a long deep breath of relief, turns... WHAM!!! Another tentacle envelops his face! MAMOOLI EEEYYYAAAHHHH!!!!! CUT TO: 102 MECHANICAL CHAMBER - NIGHT 102 Dante's Inferno: STEAM, SMOKE, FIRE, STRANGE NOISES, DARK AREAS, and lots of MOVING ENGINE PARTS. Finnegan leads, followed by Trillian, Hanover, Pantucci, and Canton. We can HEAR their HEARTS BEATING. Scary shit. Finnegan heads for a open HATCH. It suddenly SLAMS SHUT. He instantly VEERS down another passageway. PANTUCCI What the hell is going on!! Finnegan heads for another open HATCHWAY. It also SLAMS SHUT. FINNEGAN They're herding us. Finnegan and company keep going. HANOVER What are you talking about? As they round a corner, the CEILING IMPLODES right in front of them. PIPES and OTHER MATTER CRASH down. Cutting them off. Leaving only one route open...a slim passageway. FINNEGAN Like cattle... TRILLIAN You're saying they can think? FINNEGAN I'm saying they're calling the shots... Finnegan heads toward the passageway. CANTON Do we have to go there? The ceiling left above them begins to torque, and splits. The answer is plain. Everyone runs into the passage just as the ceiling comes down. CUT TO: 103 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 103 Finnegan leads them single-file, they quickly head into a SHAKING narrow void. Fear has led to silence, and unbearable tension. The walls on either side creak, and moan with strange noises. CUT TO: 104 MID-HULL - NIGHT 104 Finnegan quickly comes out of the CREAKING, MOANING GANGWAY, followed by the others. All the STRANGE NOISES suddenly STOP. Everything gets quiet. Finnegan freezes. Something's wrong. Everybody looks around. STEAM SHOOTS OUT from multiple pipes. The air is thick with MIST. TRILLIAN What's the matter? FINNEGAN The quiet... HANOVER Maybe we lost them. FINNEGAN Or maybe we're exactly where they want us to be. Finnegan moves on. The others follow. Guns out front. TENSE. They round a huge metal pillar and come face-to-face with a soul-wrenching nightmare. The CREATURES' NEST -- OR STOMACH. Across a small portion of the ship's midsection, is a huge GELATINOUS WOMB. Imagine a massive thick wall of clear-yellow JELL-O, with hundreds of BLUE VEINS running through it. If it weren't all so horrific, it would be considered beautiful. Inside the womb, A DOZEN HUMANS, passengers, float around in some kind of twisted embryonic state, the living dead. They all seem to be breathing the gelatin. Several TENTACLES WRIGGLE through the stuff; which divides and re forms in some sort of strange mitosis. Finnegan and the others look at the passengers, horrified. But even more horrifying is that the people can look back at them. Many start to reach out, seemingly in slow motion as their hands ooze through the thick gelatin. Trillian looks sick, trembles in fear. TRILLIAN What is it? FINNEGAN A meat locker. TRILLIAN We can't just leave them here. Canton looks like he's about to throw up, he starts backing away, heading for a side hatch. CANTON I can. In the womb, a Tentacle suddenly approaches a sexy young LADY. The Lady tries to back-pedal away, but because of the gelatin, it's like one of those nightmares where you can only move in slow motion. The FEELERS GRIP her naked thigh. She tries to scream, but her face is already starting to constrict, her whole body is being paralyzed. Pantucci is so horrified he's about to cry. PANTUCCI Oh no...oh God please no. The TENTACLE-SAC gloms onto the Lady's forehead. THROUGH THE SAC we can SEE her SKIN MELTING. The only thing she can move are her EYES, which are bugging-out in absolute horror as she is imbibed alive. Our heroes are frozen in fear. Until the Lady's EYES LIQUEFY. Trillian burries her head in Finnegan's shoulder, trying to shut out the horror. FINNEGAN We can't do anything for them... Let's go... He begins to lead her toward the hatch...when her eyes recognized the old lady with the orchid in her hair. The old lady seems to see her too. Her hands read out, IMPLORING. Her mouth silently shapes the words: HELP ME! Just as a tentacle comes creeping toward her. TRILLIAN NOOO!! Her rage rises. She hefts her rifle, and starts blasting away. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) You won't get her!! You won't!! Spitting FLAMES and SMOKE. The BULLETS IMPACT the gelatin. BLASTING IT AWAY. But the bullets only manage to go about twenty feet into the thick shit before gliding to a stop. GELATIN EXPLODES all over the place. TRACER HOLES STREAK through the stuff. But all the bullets are sliding short. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) Finnegan...do something!! Please!! Finnegan looks around and spots the place in the ceiling where most of the Tentacles are coming from. Their long TAILS WIGGLE down from a massive clutter of pipes. A bas-relief of horror. Finnegan reaches over and yanks two thermite grenades off Hanover's utility belt. HANOVER Finnegan, No!!! ...bites the pins and spits them out. FINNEGAN Eat this. He chucks the grenades up into the strange WRITHING FRESCO, safely clear of the passengers. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) FIRE IN THE HOLE! Pantucci and Hanover throw themselves to the floor. Finnegan pulls Trillian down, covering her. BA-WOOM! GELATIN SPRAYS EVERYWHERE. CUT TO: 105 FUJI MARU - SAME TIME 105 A loud, creepy, suction-like SOUND is HEARD, that strange pitter- patter of little feet running across the hull. Then the HULL begins to MOAN and CREAK from an UNSEEN PRESSURE. CUT TO: 106 MID HULL - NIGHT 106 All the MOVEMENT STOPS. The remaining TENTACLES VANISH into the machinery. Pantucci, and Hanover look up from the floor, covered in slime. Finnegan and Trillian also look up...and then look at each other face to face...inches apart. Dripping with slime. FINNEGAN Looking good... TRILLIAN You should talk... Then the machinery shuts down. The engines go dead. ALL SOUND CUTS OUT. An expectant hush. Somewhere, WATER DRIPS... WE GO EXTREMELY CLOSE ON Trillian's EYES. Pantucci's EYES. Hanover's EYES. Finnegan's EYES. The air is riddled with ominous expectation. And that's when the HULL BEGINS TO TORQUE. RIVETS POP and SNAP. WATER SPRAYS. METAL BUCKLES. 107 SHOT: 107 At the far end of the ship, part of the LOWER BOW RIPS OPEN! AND A WALL OF WATER RUSHES IN. FLOOD CITY! Finnegan's eyes widen as he sees (MODEL SHOT) the massive WAVE OF WATER CRASHING TOWARDS THEM. RIPPING OUT PIPES, DUCTS, WALLS, EQUIPMENT and EVERYTHING in front of it. FINNEGAN GO! GO! GO! They all hightail it for hatches. Finnegan and Trillian make it into one hatch. Hanover and Pantucci make it into another. WATER CRASHES and SPRAYS behind them. CUT TO: 108 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 108 Massive AIR BUBBLES EXPLODE out from under the bow. CUT TO: 109 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 109 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH up and down every passageway. And a CLAXTON RINGS, in accelerating tones, giving a frenetic urgency to ALL OF THE FOLLOWING SCENES: 110 A PASSAGEWAY: 110 WATER BLASTS through a hatch and CHASES Finnegan and Trillian down a passageway. They jag left at an intersection -- WATER BLASTS through the hatch directly in front of them. FINNEGAN We're going to sink! We've got to get on deck! They backtrack. Trillian's now in the lead. They HAUL ASS down a hallway. WATER ROARING IN from everywhere behind them. All of the watertight HATCHES begin to hydraulically CLOSE. Trillian and Finnegan JAG into a hatch. It's a small room. The hatch in front of them closes. WATER BLASTS in behind them. SWEEPS them off their feet. The ROOM quickly starts to FILL UP. Trillian pulls frantically at the hatch. CUT TO: 111 NARROW PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 111 Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through knee-high water. Pantucci stumbles into the water, frantically scrambles up. He looks back -- UNDER THE WATER, INKY FORMS hurl themselves down the passageway right towards him. Pantucci YELPS, and splashes away. CUT TO: 112 SUBMERGING ROOM - NIGHT 112 Trillian and Finnegan pull with all their might on a tiny portal. Finnegan tries to insert the blade of his knife in the crack. TRILLIAN So how do you get from the Bronx to the South China sea? FINNEGAN You quit high school, lie about your age, join the navy, and next thing you know, four years are up and you need a way to make a living... The knife blade slips into the crack. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) I'll break the seal! Pull. He yanks the blade. Trillian pulls. The seal pops. The portal flies open. Waist-high in water, Trillian sticks her arm out, tries to get her shoulder out, but there's no chance in hell of that. TRILLIAN Too small! She pulls her arm out. And a TENTACLE LUNGES IN. Just missing Trillian. It SPLASHES under the water. GRABS Finnegan's ankle. Pulls him under. FINNEGAN sticks the barrel of his gun underwater and OPENS FIRE. WATER EXPLODES. The Tentacle recoils. And rips itself back out the porthole. Trillian SLAMS the PORTHOLE SHUT and dogs it tight. The WATER QUICKLY RISES. CUT TO: 113 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 113 Pantucci and Hanover hauling ass. Hanover pulls out his last two Thermite grenades. Pantucci panics and grabs for them. PANTUCCI Gimme one! Gimme one! He knocks both of them out of Hanover's hands. They DISAPPEAR under the water. HANOVER You idiot! They quickly fumble around in the water, trying to find them. A TENTACLE BLASTS around the corner. Partially obscured by the wave in front of it. Heading right for them. Hanover finds the two grenades. Gives one to Pantucci. They rip the pins out and toss the grenades behind them. Then HAUL ASS faster. The Tentacle right behind them. A BEAT. And then the GRENADES EXPLODE, BA-WOOM! BA-WOOM! CUT TO: 114 FUJI MARY - NIGHT 114 The storm hammers the deck. Canton staggers out onto the RAIN SLICKED DECK just in time to see -- A HOLE BEING BLOWN OUT the side of the Fuji Maru's HULL. BUBBLES continue to EXPLODE OUT from under the bow. CANTON Oh my God, it's going to sink. Then slowly, Canton gets a gleam in his eye, now thrilled. CANTON (CONT'D) It's going to sink. CUT TO: 115 SUBMERGED ROOM - NIGHT 115 Finnegan and Trillian are getting banged around the frothy WATER as it quickly RISES. Now only inches from the ceiling. Trapped. They're about to drown. Finnegan keeps looking around, trying to figure a way out. TRILLIAN I was so goddamn close, Finnegan! So goddamn close to my island... I could almost taste the sand... FINNEGAN Keep tasting... Finnegan shoves the pulse rifle to the ceiling. And blasts away until part of the ceiling falls out and into the water. There's just enough room between two metal beams to get out. The rising WATER SHOVES them up through the hole. CUT TO: 116 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 116 Side-by-side, Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through waist-high water. They round a corner and look back -- INKY FORMS SLOSH around the corner. Heading right for them. They slog faster. PANTUCCI They're catchin' up! They're catchin' up! We gotta slow 'em down! HANOVER Feed them. That'll slow them down. A black STRIATED MUSCLE ROILS out of the foamy water, then quickly VANISHES under it, heading straight for them. PANTUCCI Feed 'em?!! Okay! All right! Feed 'em what? WHAT ARE WE GONNA FEED 'EM?! Hanover takes his pistol and SHOOTS Pantucci in the leg, BLAM! Pantucci SCREAMS. FALLS into the water. Hanover RUNS on. Pantucci doesn't even have time to deal with the pain. He starts SCRAMBLING through the water. UNDERWATER, the INKY FORMS RACE AFTER HIM. Only meters away. Pantucci throws himself into the opening of a dumbwaiter. SLAMS the DOOR SHUT. The TENTACLE ATTACKS the door. WORMING its way across the surface, trying to find a way inside. Pantucci is scared beyond his pain. Pushing back as far as he can against the rear wall, he sees the control button. He presses the up arrow. The dumbwaiter starts to move. CUT TO: 117 FUJI MARU REAR DECK - DAY 117 The Saipan is still bobbing behind the Fuji Maru. But the HARPOON HOOK, which holds the tow-line and is embedded into the rear deck of the ship, is starting to PRY LOOSE. It JERKS and BUCKS against the metal wall. Canton doesn't notice this as he slips and slides his way up to the railing. He sees the Saipan and smiles. Then he looks off at -- 118 ISLAND 118 rising out of the ocean. About a mile away. Canton starts to climb over the railing. And that's when the HARPOON HOOK RIPS FREE. WHIZZES FORWARD. And IMPALES Canton's LEG. He SCREAMS. Tries to spin free. The hook hangs onto his leg for a long, agonizing BEAT as Canton continues to SCREAM. Then the HOOK RIPS FREE, grabs the METAL RAILING and starts TEARING IT off the deck. Canton drops to the deck, holding his leg and whimpering in pain. And then he sees it -- 119 SPEEDBOAT 119 dangling from its harness down on the watersports platform. 120 TO SCENE 120 Canton starts to crawl for it. Moaning and bleeding. CUT TO: 121 CRYSTAL POOL DECK - NIGHT 121 Finnegan and Trillian race up onto the pool deck. Passing beneath a colorful NEON SIGN which READS: "THE FUJI MARU - YOUR FUN SHIP" In the dark, Trillian trips. She falls to the slippery, waterlogged deck, and SCREAMS... TRILLIAN EEEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH! ...clawing at her face... Finnegan pulls her hands from her face...and the thing that attached itself there...a small squid from the shattered aquarium. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) (freaked) Ah...ah...ah... Tries to catch her breath. FINNEGAN It's OK...it's not one of them... it's from the aquarium...it's... And then it dawns on Finnegan. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's not them...it's it... TRILLIAN What? FINNEGAN You know what kind of force it took to rip open the bow of this ship? A million little things like this... He holds up the squid. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...can't exert that kind of pressure... And the way it tracked us? A million little things don't carry portable phones to coordinate positions... What's chasing us... it's one...thing...one giant... thing. SMASH CUT TO: 122 ARIAL POV - MATTE FX SHOT - NIGHT 122 ...looking down on the Fuji Maru from high up in the air. Beneath the ENTIRE SHIP is an enormous, undulating BLACK SHADOW. A massive monster from the deep. CUT TO: 123 CASINO - NIGHT 123 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH. The CLAXTON RINGS. Off to one side of a wall, behind the bar, the dumbwaiter door opens, and Pantucci tumbles out, looks around, and then hears... HANOVER (V.O.) Help!! Help!! Pantucci limps around the bar, down a row of one armed bandits... rounds a corner, comes face-to-face with Hanover. Hanover's eyes are filled with terror and despair. His face is badly constricted. His body paralyzed. He clings to a black-jack table as a Tentacle-Sac drinks its way up his leg. It's already to his hip. He grasps desperately for his pistol, just beyond his reach on the floor. This guy ain't gonna survive. PANTUCCI YELPS and quickly back away, eyes wide, totally tense. He looks around, sees that there's only one Tentacle, and it's completely occupied with devouring Hanover. Pantucci is wigged, but manages to lock eyes with Hanover. Then he looks at the Sac, filled with regurgitated flesh. PANTUCCI ...even you don't deserve this. Pantucci picks up Hanover's pistol. Then slowly, cautiously, he creeps forward, and sticks the gun into Hanover's TWITCHING HAND. PANTUCCI (CONT'D) I'm sorry man... He turns and quickly limps off. Hanover's EYES look down at the gun in his hand. Then, with all the strength he has left, he slowly, painfully, turns the pistol so it points at his head. CLOSE ON: Hanover's trembling FINGER. As it slowly squeezes the trigger. He want to kill himself. Needs to hill himself. He squeezes harder. The TRIGGER DEPRESSES! -- CLICK! The gun is empty. Hanover's mouth opens in a horrible, silent scream. CUT TO: 124 REAR DECK - SAME TIME 124 Finnegan and Trillian race out onto the rear deck just as the HARPOON HOOK finishes TEARING the railing off the ship. The HOOK, the TOW- LINE, and the ENTIRE RAILING DROP over the side and fall OUT OF SIGHT. The TWO BOATS are now UNCOUPLED. Finnegan reels at the rain soaked sky. FINNEGAN Will somebody give me a break here? And that's when Finnegan and Trillian hear the SOUND of a HYDRAULIC HOIST. They look over -- 125 AT THE WATERSPORTS PLATFORM: 125 The speedboat is being hydraulically lowered into the water. Canton sits inside, fiddling with the ignition. ANGLE ON: Trillian and Finnegan racing down the spiral stairs leading to the watersports platform. TRILLIAN Wait! Stop! The boat touches down into the water. CANTON I'd like to but I have an appointment with my insurance broker! He HITS the HOIST-RELEASE BUTTON. The speedboat breaks free. Canton HITS the IGNITION. The boat's ENGINE ROARS. CANTON (CONT'D) Life takes the damndest turns, doesn't it? He red-lines the THROTTLE. The SPEEDBOAT HAULS ASS away from the cruiseliner. Canton steers for the island. Smiling. ANGLE ON: Trillian IN HER RAGE... TRILLIAN You son of a bitch!! She grabs Finnegan's pulse rifle, hefts it to her shoulder... FINNEGAN Look! He forces her to look in the distance. Their POV. The island. TRILLIAN Oh my god! Oh my god! How do we do it? How do we get there? FINNEGAN Not like him. Finnegan points to the water...and an INKY PSEUDOPOD FORM racing after the speedboat underwater. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's the engine...it can hear the engine...it goes for the loudest sound... The Tentacle quickly picks up speed, going faster and faster, getting closer and closer, stretching further and further. Suddenly, behind them, a METALLIC THRASHING SOUND is HEARD. They turn around and look -- The hook, the tow-line, and the entire railing have dropped down onto the watersports platform and are tangled up around the two jet skis, trying to tear free -- The Saipan is still clinging by its fingernails to the Fuji Maru! Finnegan races over to a WINCH and grabs the winch- line. CUT TO: 126 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 126 Canton, smiling brightly, peers at the approaching island through the speedboat's windscreen. So relieved he sings to himself, from the operetta H.M.S. PINAFORE. CANTON Oh we sail the ocean blue, and our mighty ship's a beauty. We are strong men, yes it's true, and responsive to our duty... When...YANK!!...the SPEEDBOAT is GRABBED from below, practically exploding as it DISINTEGRATES into TWO PIECES. Canton is PROPELLED through the windscreen and onto the hood. CUT TO: 127 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 127 Finnegan struggles to clip the winch-line onto the tow-line, hanging precariously over the edge of the ship, clip in one hand, winch-line in the other. The whole METAL MESS is BUCKING and TWISTING and SCREECHING. His every joint is being ripped out of socket as he strains to get the clip on the line before the entire rig tears away into the sea. With one last heroic effort of will and grit, he snaps the clip in place just as it all BREAKS LOOSE. One of the JET SKIS and the ENTIRE RAILING are RIPPED over the side and fall down into the ocean. Finnegan is also YANKED over the side, but he manages to hold on by his fingers, dangling precariously. FINNEGAN Hit it! Hit it! The HOOK and the TOW-LINE drop -- then SNAP TAUGHT as the winch-line holds them tight. Trillian throws the start lever on the winch. The WINCH KICKS ON and starts reeling in the Saipan. Finnegan tries to crawl up on the deck, exhausted. Trillian reaches down and pulls him the rest of the way up. He half collapses on top of her. TRILLIAN You know, Finnegan, I'm starting to believe what you said about you not being born to die on a luxury liner. Despite the grimness of their position, the closeness of their bodies is...a turn on...to both of them...and then a SCREAM from the sea. They look in the direction of... CUT TO: 128 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 128 Canton is pinned to the hood of the speedboat, his face shredded by glass, his leg mangled, screaming as his panicked eyes watch a TENTACLE slowly squirm across the hood toward him, it's hideous feelers writhe and arch. Canton backs away from it as far as he can. Another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up next to him. Canton crawls away from that one. Its Feelers and Suckers unsheathe, dripping mucus. Canton's eyes widen, horrified. Then another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up. Canton crawls to the center of the hood. And another TENTACLE. Canton has nowhere to go. The Tentacles close in on him. CANTON No! No! No! All the tentacles rise over him, about to descend. CANTON (CONT'D) NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! CUT TO: 129 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 129 Finnegan and Trillian race for all they are worth, clamber over the side of the Fuji Maru, dropping to the deck of the Saipan. CUT TO: 130 SAIPAN - NIGHT 130 Finnegan and Trillian slowly clamber through the hold, waist deep in water, on edge, eyes wide, watching for any sign of trouble. It's quiet in here. Maybe too quiet. TRILLIAN (quietly) Finnegan... FINNEGAN Yeah... TRILLIAN ...the minute you start your engines ...it's going to kill us, isn't it? They step up to one of the big CRATES. Finnegan starts SMASHING it with the butt of his pulse-rifle. The CRATE BURST OPEN. REVEALING the WARHEAD of the torpedo. Trillian is stunned. FINNEGAN Not unless we kill it first. Finnegan SMASHES more of the CRATE, it falls apart, REVEALING the entire torpedo. He hands her his pulse rifle. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) Anything moves, you shoot. Finnegan starts to yank open the top plates of the missile head. Trillian looks around nervously. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) There's not much horsepower left in the engines, but there's enough noise...once this baby's set...I'll rev it up...that slimy bastard will come for it like candy... TRILLIAN If you blow up your boat, how are we going to get to the island? FINNEGAN Jet ski...there's one left up there. The plate comes loose. Revealing a gaggle of wires, and parts. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...let's see, it was red wire cross compressor blue wire...or blue cross red? He starts to fiddle with the wires. -- Suddenly, there's a LOUD SLOSHING SOUND right behind them! CRATES TOPPLE! More pulse rifles spill out. Trillian spins, ready to blast away with the pulse rifle, to... PANTUCCI Don't shoot!! Don't shoot!! FINNEGAN Just the man I wanted to see. On this puppy here, you remember if it's red to blue or blue to red... He refers to the wires. PANTUCCI Not even a Joey, I'm glad to see you? Joey, what happened to your leg? FINNEGAN Joey, you want to get sucked out by a giant fucking mutated squid? PANTUCCI (fast) Red cross over to blue double blue ...is that what it is? A squid? FINNEGAN Squid...squid like...squid type... it's got tentacles, a feed sac... probably one central nervous processor somewhere...what the hell do I know is going on deep down in the ocean...there's all sorts of shit we've never seen...eighty foot clams...60 foot sharks...I'm just guessing...can you get me more juice out of Hercules...fast? PANTUCCI For juice, I gotta rebuild. That's not fast. TRILLIAN How about noise? Can you get noise? We don't need speed, just noise, right? FINNEGAN Right... PANTUCCI Can somebody tell me what the object of the exercise is here? FINNEGAN Seafood salad. (to Trillian) You ever operate a jet ski? TRILLIAN (nervous) You want ME to go up there? FINNEGAN Not unless you can wire a missile or fix an engine. TRILLIAN And what if I run into one of those things? Finnegan tosses her a pulse rifle from the overturned crate. FINNEGAN Don't forget the safety. She hits the safety, slams a shell into chamber... TRILLIAN Don't take too long...I'm not planning on being on the menu tonight. ...and exits. PANTUCCI (razzing) I've never seen you so congenial with a member of the opposite sex... The two of you got a nice patter going...got a nice rapport... FINNEGAN And you got 10 minutes before this thing livens up a boring evening. Finnegan attaches a wire to a sprocket. A red light starts to blink on the warhead. CUT TO: 131 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 131 It is VERY DARK. The RAIN is getting worse. THUNDER RUMBLES. LIGHTNING FLASHES. The FUJI MARU MOANS and CREAKS. BUBBLES EXPLODE from beneath it. The Saipan rocks against her hull. Trillian clambers along the TILTING RAILING, heading for the watersports platform. Her gorgeous eyes shift nervously. TRILLIAN I'm going to be OK...I'm going to be OK... The ship's METAL HULL SCREECHES. The SEAWATER BUBBLES and GURGLES. From somewhere deep inside the ship, we HEAR that loud primordial YOWL again. Trillian freezes, her heart double beats. She looks around, really scared. CUT TO: 132 SAIPAN'S HOLD - NIGHT 132 The missile is on a hoist being pushed forward by Pantucci and Finnegan toward a GAPING HOLE in the PORT BOW. PANTUCCI You know what I think? I think our luck has just about run shit out... FINNEGAN A little to the left... PANTUCCI I think we gotta stop floating from one fucked up situation to the next... FINNEGAN Line it up now, nice and easy... The missile head is right in line with the hole in the bow. PANTUCCI I'm telling you, man, we got to give the future some serious thought. FINNEGAN I have been. PANTUCCI And what have you come up with? FINNEGAN How does an island sound to you? Pantucci looks at Finnegan quizically. This is news to him. CUT TO: 133 SAIPAN - NIGHT 133 The TIP of the WARHEAD creeps out through the hole. The body of the missile is just a hair too wide, which is good, because it jams itself nice and tight into the hole. CUT TO: 134 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 134 Trillian takes the tarp off the remaining jet ski. Pushes the swivel arm that holds it out over the railing. The PLATFORM TILTS! Trillian loses her balance. Almost goes over the

agony

How many times the word 'agony' appears in the text?

FIRE and BUBBLES. Trillian looks around. Scared shitless. The bubbles clear just in time for her to see -- Chin, mouth open, eyes wide, screaming in agony, being ripped past her. She tries to fire her rifle. Too late. Trillian watches as Chin VANISHES down the shaft in a CLOUD OF BUBBLES. CUT TO: 100 KITCHEN - NIGHT 100 TRILLIAN BURSTS to the surface. FINNEGAN YANKS her up and out of the water. FINNEGAN You O.K.? Trillian can only nod, and gasp for breath. Canton and Hanover catch their breath, PANTING AWAY, waterlogged. Hanover reaches over to retrieve the rifle in Trillian's hand. Trillian points the barrel at him, and hits the safety. TRILLIAN (grim) Finders keepers. Mamooli bursts out of the water, falling on the floor, close to panic mode. MAMOOLI Where's Chin? TRILLIAN Gone... MAMOOLI This is not real! This is not bloody real! Finnegan TOPPLES a large, heavy metal BROILER onto the open floor gate, sealing the watery hole in the floor. There are two hatches in this room. The far hatch is closed. Mamooli stands next to an OPEN HATCH. Canton points to it. CANTON Through there...another sixty, seventy yards...there are more elevators there. PANTUCCI I ain't goin' up no more elevators. CANTON There's stairways... Mamooli SLAMS the HATCH SHUT. Eyes bugging out of his head. MAMOOLI I say we stay right here! PANTUCCI Are you crazy? MAMOOLI (desperate) There's plenty of food here. We can hold out...someone'll rescue us... FINNEGAN Who? MAMOOLI Someone...maybe they sent an SOS! PANTUCCI On what? This son of a bitch (to Canton) zapped the communications. HANOVER Mamooli stand down! MAMOOLI We don't even know if his boat is still there...you saw Billy! FINNEGAN Boat or no boat...I'm going... Finnegan steps forward. Mamooli aims his rifle right at Finnegan's head. MAMOOLI They're wipin' us out one at a time. I say we make a stand. Right here! Right now! Maximum firepower! PANTUCCI Somebody shoot this jerk! FINNEGAN (calm) Nobody's shooting nobody...come on, just let us through the hatch! MAMOOLI I'll kill you!! I'll fucking kill you!! I'll do it! I'll do it! I'm not playin' around here! Finnegan freezes. CLOSE ON: The hatch. As a BLACK LIQUID starts to OOZE through a tiny latch-hole. No one sees it. FINNEGAN I once saw a guy put a fish in a bottle, then he corked it, sealing it tight, and threw it to a baby octopus. The little sucker felt its way around that bottle, and in less than two minutes, got that cork off, slid inside, and ate that fish. MAMOOLI What the hell are you talking about? FINNEGAN Us...I'm talking about us... We're the fish. The LIQUID SHADOW OOZES down and hits the floor, starts to EXPAND, filling like a water balloon. It's not a liquid. It's a Tentacle. VEINS, FEELERS and SUCKERS begin to form. MAMOOLI And what? These things are octopuses FINNEGAN I don't know what these things are ...all I know is... The TENTACLE slowly RISES UP right behind Mamooli. Inches behind his head. Finnegan and Hanover see it. Eyes widening. MAMOOLI What...? What?? Mamooli turns to the tentacle looming over him, about to strike. MAMOOLI (CONT'D) EEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH!!!! He opens fire, emptying his clip into the tentacle. The tentacle retreats into the pipes. Mamooli looks around. The room is empty. He runs out. CUT TO: 101 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 101 Mamooli rushes into the empty passageway, looks left. Then right. His POV. Down the hall another TENTACLE comes racing at him. Mamooli panics, drops his rifle. TRACK WITH Mamooli racing down the hallway, looking over his shoulder in fear, as the tentacle comes racing after him...gaining...gaining... almost on him... Mamooli leaps through an open hatch, and swings it shut in one swift motion. The tentacle slams into the glass portal. Stopped. Mamooli keeps his eye on the portal, and backs up two steps. He lets out a long deep breath of relief, turns... WHAM!!! Another tentacle envelops his face! MAMOOLI EEEYYYAAAHHHH!!!!! CUT TO: 102 MECHANICAL CHAMBER - NIGHT 102 Dante's Inferno: STEAM, SMOKE, FIRE, STRANGE NOISES, DARK AREAS, and lots of MOVING ENGINE PARTS. Finnegan leads, followed by Trillian, Hanover, Pantucci, and Canton. We can HEAR their HEARTS BEATING. Scary shit. Finnegan heads for a open HATCH. It suddenly SLAMS SHUT. He instantly VEERS down another passageway. PANTUCCI What the hell is going on!! Finnegan heads for another open HATCHWAY. It also SLAMS SHUT. FINNEGAN They're herding us. Finnegan and company keep going. HANOVER What are you talking about? As they round a corner, the CEILING IMPLODES right in front of them. PIPES and OTHER MATTER CRASH down. Cutting them off. Leaving only one route open...a slim passageway. FINNEGAN Like cattle... TRILLIAN You're saying they can think? FINNEGAN I'm saying they're calling the shots... Finnegan heads toward the passageway. CANTON Do we have to go there? The ceiling left above them begins to torque, and splits. The answer is plain. Everyone runs into the passage just as the ceiling comes down. CUT TO: 103 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 103 Finnegan leads them single-file, they quickly head into a SHAKING narrow void. Fear has led to silence, and unbearable tension. The walls on either side creak, and moan with strange noises. CUT TO: 104 MID-HULL - NIGHT 104 Finnegan quickly comes out of the CREAKING, MOANING GANGWAY, followed by the others. All the STRANGE NOISES suddenly STOP. Everything gets quiet. Finnegan freezes. Something's wrong. Everybody looks around. STEAM SHOOTS OUT from multiple pipes. The air is thick with MIST. TRILLIAN What's the matter? FINNEGAN The quiet... HANOVER Maybe we lost them. FINNEGAN Or maybe we're exactly where they want us to be. Finnegan moves on. The others follow. Guns out front. TENSE. They round a huge metal pillar and come face-to-face with a soul-wrenching nightmare. The CREATURES' NEST -- OR STOMACH. Across a small portion of the ship's midsection, is a huge GELATINOUS WOMB. Imagine a massive thick wall of clear-yellow JELL-O, with hundreds of BLUE VEINS running through it. If it weren't all so horrific, it would be considered beautiful. Inside the womb, A DOZEN HUMANS, passengers, float around in some kind of twisted embryonic state, the living dead. They all seem to be breathing the gelatin. Several TENTACLES WRIGGLE through the stuff; which divides and re forms in some sort of strange mitosis. Finnegan and the others look at the passengers, horrified. But even more horrifying is that the people can look back at them. Many start to reach out, seemingly in slow motion as their hands ooze through the thick gelatin. Trillian looks sick, trembles in fear. TRILLIAN What is it? FINNEGAN A meat locker. TRILLIAN We can't just leave them here. Canton looks like he's about to throw up, he starts backing away, heading for a side hatch. CANTON I can. In the womb, a Tentacle suddenly approaches a sexy young LADY. The Lady tries to back-pedal away, but because of the gelatin, it's like one of those nightmares where you can only move in slow motion. The FEELERS GRIP her naked thigh. She tries to scream, but her face is already starting to constrict, her whole body is being paralyzed. Pantucci is so horrified he's about to cry. PANTUCCI Oh no...oh God please no. The TENTACLE-SAC gloms onto the Lady's forehead. THROUGH THE SAC we can SEE her SKIN MELTING. The only thing she can move are her EYES, which are bugging-out in absolute horror as she is imbibed alive. Our heroes are frozen in fear. Until the Lady's EYES LIQUEFY. Trillian burries her head in Finnegan's shoulder, trying to shut out the horror. FINNEGAN We can't do anything for them... Let's go... He begins to lead her toward the hatch...when her eyes recognized the old lady with the orchid in her hair. The old lady seems to see her too. Her hands read out, IMPLORING. Her mouth silently shapes the words: HELP ME! Just as a tentacle comes creeping toward her. TRILLIAN NOOO!! Her rage rises. She hefts her rifle, and starts blasting away. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) You won't get her!! You won't!! Spitting FLAMES and SMOKE. The BULLETS IMPACT the gelatin. BLASTING IT AWAY. But the bullets only manage to go about twenty feet into the thick shit before gliding to a stop. GELATIN EXPLODES all over the place. TRACER HOLES STREAK through the stuff. But all the bullets are sliding short. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) Finnegan...do something!! Please!! Finnegan looks around and spots the place in the ceiling where most of the Tentacles are coming from. Their long TAILS WIGGLE down from a massive clutter of pipes. A bas-relief of horror. Finnegan reaches over and yanks two thermite grenades off Hanover's utility belt. HANOVER Finnegan, No!!! ...bites the pins and spits them out. FINNEGAN Eat this. He chucks the grenades up into the strange WRITHING FRESCO, safely clear of the passengers. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) FIRE IN THE HOLE! Pantucci and Hanover throw themselves to the floor. Finnegan pulls Trillian down, covering her. BA-WOOM! GELATIN SPRAYS EVERYWHERE. CUT TO: 105 FUJI MARU - SAME TIME 105 A loud, creepy, suction-like SOUND is HEARD, that strange pitter- patter of little feet running across the hull. Then the HULL begins to MOAN and CREAK from an UNSEEN PRESSURE. CUT TO: 106 MID HULL - NIGHT 106 All the MOVEMENT STOPS. The remaining TENTACLES VANISH into the machinery. Pantucci, and Hanover look up from the floor, covered in slime. Finnegan and Trillian also look up...and then look at each other face to face...inches apart. Dripping with slime. FINNEGAN Looking good... TRILLIAN You should talk... Then the machinery shuts down. The engines go dead. ALL SOUND CUTS OUT. An expectant hush. Somewhere, WATER DRIPS... WE GO EXTREMELY CLOSE ON Trillian's EYES. Pantucci's EYES. Hanover's EYES. Finnegan's EYES. The air is riddled with ominous expectation. And that's when the HULL BEGINS TO TORQUE. RIVETS POP and SNAP. WATER SPRAYS. METAL BUCKLES. 107 SHOT: 107 At the far end of the ship, part of the LOWER BOW RIPS OPEN! AND A WALL OF WATER RUSHES IN. FLOOD CITY! Finnegan's eyes widen as he sees (MODEL SHOT) the massive WAVE OF WATER CRASHING TOWARDS THEM. RIPPING OUT PIPES, DUCTS, WALLS, EQUIPMENT and EVERYTHING in front of it. FINNEGAN GO! GO! GO! They all hightail it for hatches. Finnegan and Trillian make it into one hatch. Hanover and Pantucci make it into another. WATER CRASHES and SPRAYS behind them. CUT TO: 108 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 108 Massive AIR BUBBLES EXPLODE out from under the bow. CUT TO: 109 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 109 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH up and down every passageway. And a CLAXTON RINGS, in accelerating tones, giving a frenetic urgency to ALL OF THE FOLLOWING SCENES: 110 A PASSAGEWAY: 110 WATER BLASTS through a hatch and CHASES Finnegan and Trillian down a passageway. They jag left at an intersection -- WATER BLASTS through the hatch directly in front of them. FINNEGAN We're going to sink! We've got to get on deck! They backtrack. Trillian's now in the lead. They HAUL ASS down a hallway. WATER ROARING IN from everywhere behind them. All of the watertight HATCHES begin to hydraulically CLOSE. Trillian and Finnegan JAG into a hatch. It's a small room. The hatch in front of them closes. WATER BLASTS in behind them. SWEEPS them off their feet. The ROOM quickly starts to FILL UP. Trillian pulls frantically at the hatch. CUT TO: 111 NARROW PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 111 Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through knee-high water. Pantucci stumbles into the water, frantically scrambles up. He looks back -- UNDER THE WATER, INKY FORMS hurl themselves down the passageway right towards him. Pantucci YELPS, and splashes away. CUT TO: 112 SUBMERGING ROOM - NIGHT 112 Trillian and Finnegan pull with all their might on a tiny portal. Finnegan tries to insert the blade of his knife in the crack. TRILLIAN So how do you get from the Bronx to the South China sea? FINNEGAN You quit high school, lie about your age, join the navy, and next thing you know, four years are up and you need a way to make a living... The knife blade slips into the crack. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) I'll break the seal! Pull. He yanks the blade. Trillian pulls. The seal pops. The portal flies open. Waist-high in water, Trillian sticks her arm out, tries to get her shoulder out, but there's no chance in hell of that. TRILLIAN Too small! She pulls her arm out. And a TENTACLE LUNGES IN. Just missing Trillian. It SPLASHES under the water. GRABS Finnegan's ankle. Pulls him under. FINNEGAN sticks the barrel of his gun underwater and OPENS FIRE. WATER EXPLODES. The Tentacle recoils. And rips itself back out the porthole. Trillian SLAMS the PORTHOLE SHUT and dogs it tight. The WATER QUICKLY RISES. CUT TO: 113 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 113 Pantucci and Hanover hauling ass. Hanover pulls out his last two Thermite grenades. Pantucci panics and grabs for them. PANTUCCI Gimme one! Gimme one! He knocks both of them out of Hanover's hands. They DISAPPEAR under the water. HANOVER You idiot! They quickly fumble around in the water, trying to find them. A TENTACLE BLASTS around the corner. Partially obscured by the wave in front of it. Heading right for them. Hanover finds the two grenades. Gives one to Pantucci. They rip the pins out and toss the grenades behind them. Then HAUL ASS faster. The Tentacle right behind them. A BEAT. And then the GRENADES EXPLODE, BA-WOOM! BA-WOOM! CUT TO: 114 FUJI MARY - NIGHT 114 The storm hammers the deck. Canton staggers out onto the RAIN SLICKED DECK just in time to see -- A HOLE BEING BLOWN OUT the side of the Fuji Maru's HULL. BUBBLES continue to EXPLODE OUT from under the bow. CANTON Oh my God, it's going to sink. Then slowly, Canton gets a gleam in his eye, now thrilled. CANTON (CONT'D) It's going to sink. CUT TO: 115 SUBMERGED ROOM - NIGHT 115 Finnegan and Trillian are getting banged around the frothy WATER as it quickly RISES. Now only inches from the ceiling. Trapped. They're about to drown. Finnegan keeps looking around, trying to figure a way out. TRILLIAN I was so goddamn close, Finnegan! So goddamn close to my island... I could almost taste the sand... FINNEGAN Keep tasting... Finnegan shoves the pulse rifle to the ceiling. And blasts away until part of the ceiling falls out and into the water. There's just enough room between two metal beams to get out. The rising WATER SHOVES them up through the hole. CUT TO: 116 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 116 Side-by-side, Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through waist-high water. They round a corner and look back -- INKY FORMS SLOSH around the corner. Heading right for them. They slog faster. PANTUCCI They're catchin' up! They're catchin' up! We gotta slow 'em down! HANOVER Feed them. That'll slow them down. A black STRIATED MUSCLE ROILS out of the foamy water, then quickly VANISHES under it, heading straight for them. PANTUCCI Feed 'em?!! Okay! All right! Feed 'em what? WHAT ARE WE GONNA FEED 'EM?! Hanover takes his pistol and SHOOTS Pantucci in the leg, BLAM! Pantucci SCREAMS. FALLS into the water. Hanover RUNS on. Pantucci doesn't even have time to deal with the pain. He starts SCRAMBLING through the water. UNDERWATER, the INKY FORMS RACE AFTER HIM. Only meters away. Pantucci throws himself into the opening of a dumbwaiter. SLAMS the DOOR SHUT. The TENTACLE ATTACKS the door. WORMING its way across the surface, trying to find a way inside. Pantucci is scared beyond his pain. Pushing back as far as he can against the rear wall, he sees the control button. He presses the up arrow. The dumbwaiter starts to move. CUT TO: 117 FUJI MARU REAR DECK - DAY 117 The Saipan is still bobbing behind the Fuji Maru. But the HARPOON HOOK, which holds the tow-line and is embedded into the rear deck of the ship, is starting to PRY LOOSE. It JERKS and BUCKS against the metal wall. Canton doesn't notice this as he slips and slides his way up to the railing. He sees the Saipan and smiles. Then he looks off at -- 118 ISLAND 118 rising out of the ocean. About a mile away. Canton starts to climb over the railing. And that's when the HARPOON HOOK RIPS FREE. WHIZZES FORWARD. And IMPALES Canton's LEG. He SCREAMS. Tries to spin free. The hook hangs onto his leg for a long, agonizing BEAT as Canton continues to SCREAM. Then the HOOK RIPS FREE, grabs the METAL RAILING and starts TEARING IT off the deck. Canton drops to the deck, holding his leg and whimpering in pain. And then he sees it -- 119 SPEEDBOAT 119 dangling from its harness down on the watersports platform. 120 TO SCENE 120 Canton starts to crawl for it. Moaning and bleeding. CUT TO: 121 CRYSTAL POOL DECK - NIGHT 121 Finnegan and Trillian race up onto the pool deck. Passing beneath a colorful NEON SIGN which READS: "THE FUJI MARU - YOUR FUN SHIP" In the dark, Trillian trips. She falls to the slippery, waterlogged deck, and SCREAMS... TRILLIAN EEEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH! ...clawing at her face... Finnegan pulls her hands from her face...and the thing that attached itself there...a small squid from the shattered aquarium. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) (freaked) Ah...ah...ah... Tries to catch her breath. FINNEGAN It's OK...it's not one of them... it's from the aquarium...it's... And then it dawns on Finnegan. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's not them...it's it... TRILLIAN What? FINNEGAN You know what kind of force it took to rip open the bow of this ship? A million little things like this... He holds up the squid. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...can't exert that kind of pressure... And the way it tracked us? A million little things don't carry portable phones to coordinate positions... What's chasing us... it's one...thing...one giant... thing. SMASH CUT TO: 122 ARIAL POV - MATTE FX SHOT - NIGHT 122 ...looking down on the Fuji Maru from high up in the air. Beneath the ENTIRE SHIP is an enormous, undulating BLACK SHADOW. A massive monster from the deep. CUT TO: 123 CASINO - NIGHT 123 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH. The CLAXTON RINGS. Off to one side of a wall, behind the bar, the dumbwaiter door opens, and Pantucci tumbles out, looks around, and then hears... HANOVER (V.O.) Help!! Help!! Pantucci limps around the bar, down a row of one armed bandits... rounds a corner, comes face-to-face with Hanover. Hanover's eyes are filled with terror and despair. His face is badly constricted. His body paralyzed. He clings to a black-jack table as a Tentacle-Sac drinks its way up his leg. It's already to his hip. He grasps desperately for his pistol, just beyond his reach on the floor. This guy ain't gonna survive. PANTUCCI YELPS and quickly back away, eyes wide, totally tense. He looks around, sees that there's only one Tentacle, and it's completely occupied with devouring Hanover. Pantucci is wigged, but manages to lock eyes with Hanover. Then he looks at the Sac, filled with regurgitated flesh. PANTUCCI ...even you don't deserve this. Pantucci picks up Hanover's pistol. Then slowly, cautiously, he creeps forward, and sticks the gun into Hanover's TWITCHING HAND. PANTUCCI (CONT'D) I'm sorry man... He turns and quickly limps off. Hanover's EYES look down at the gun in his hand. Then, with all the strength he has left, he slowly, painfully, turns the pistol so it points at his head. CLOSE ON: Hanover's trembling FINGER. As it slowly squeezes the trigger. He want to kill himself. Needs to hill himself. He squeezes harder. The TRIGGER DEPRESSES! -- CLICK! The gun is empty. Hanover's mouth opens in a horrible, silent scream. CUT TO: 124 REAR DECK - SAME TIME 124 Finnegan and Trillian race out onto the rear deck just as the HARPOON HOOK finishes TEARING the railing off the ship. The HOOK, the TOW- LINE, and the ENTIRE RAILING DROP over the side and fall OUT OF SIGHT. The TWO BOATS are now UNCOUPLED. Finnegan reels at the rain soaked sky. FINNEGAN Will somebody give me a break here? And that's when Finnegan and Trillian hear the SOUND of a HYDRAULIC HOIST. They look over -- 125 AT THE WATERSPORTS PLATFORM: 125 The speedboat is being hydraulically lowered into the water. Canton sits inside, fiddling with the ignition. ANGLE ON: Trillian and Finnegan racing down the spiral stairs leading to the watersports platform. TRILLIAN Wait! Stop! The boat touches down into the water. CANTON I'd like to but I have an appointment with my insurance broker! He HITS the HOIST-RELEASE BUTTON. The speedboat breaks free. Canton HITS the IGNITION. The boat's ENGINE ROARS. CANTON (CONT'D) Life takes the damndest turns, doesn't it? He red-lines the THROTTLE. The SPEEDBOAT HAULS ASS away from the cruiseliner. Canton steers for the island. Smiling. ANGLE ON: Trillian IN HER RAGE... TRILLIAN You son of a bitch!! She grabs Finnegan's pulse rifle, hefts it to her shoulder... FINNEGAN Look! He forces her to look in the distance. Their POV. The island. TRILLIAN Oh my god! Oh my god! How do we do it? How do we get there? FINNEGAN Not like him. Finnegan points to the water...and an INKY PSEUDOPOD FORM racing after the speedboat underwater. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's the engine...it can hear the engine...it goes for the loudest sound... The Tentacle quickly picks up speed, going faster and faster, getting closer and closer, stretching further and further. Suddenly, behind them, a METALLIC THRASHING SOUND is HEARD. They turn around and look -- The hook, the tow-line, and the entire railing have dropped down onto the watersports platform and are tangled up around the two jet skis, trying to tear free -- The Saipan is still clinging by its fingernails to the Fuji Maru! Finnegan races over to a WINCH and grabs the winch- line. CUT TO: 126 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 126 Canton, smiling brightly, peers at the approaching island through the speedboat's windscreen. So relieved he sings to himself, from the operetta H.M.S. PINAFORE. CANTON Oh we sail the ocean blue, and our mighty ship's a beauty. We are strong men, yes it's true, and responsive to our duty... When...YANK!!...the SPEEDBOAT is GRABBED from below, practically exploding as it DISINTEGRATES into TWO PIECES. Canton is PROPELLED through the windscreen and onto the hood. CUT TO: 127 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 127 Finnegan struggles to clip the winch-line onto the tow-line, hanging precariously over the edge of the ship, clip in one hand, winch-line in the other. The whole METAL MESS is BUCKING and TWISTING and SCREECHING. His every joint is being ripped out of socket as he strains to get the clip on the line before the entire rig tears away into the sea. With one last heroic effort of will and grit, he snaps the clip in place just as it all BREAKS LOOSE. One of the JET SKIS and the ENTIRE RAILING are RIPPED over the side and fall down into the ocean. Finnegan is also YANKED over the side, but he manages to hold on by his fingers, dangling precariously. FINNEGAN Hit it! Hit it! The HOOK and the TOW-LINE drop -- then SNAP TAUGHT as the winch-line holds them tight. Trillian throws the start lever on the winch. The WINCH KICKS ON and starts reeling in the Saipan. Finnegan tries to crawl up on the deck, exhausted. Trillian reaches down and pulls him the rest of the way up. He half collapses on top of her. TRILLIAN You know, Finnegan, I'm starting to believe what you said about you not being born to die on a luxury liner. Despite the grimness of their position, the closeness of their bodies is...a turn on...to both of them...and then a SCREAM from the sea. They look in the direction of... CUT TO: 128 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 128 Canton is pinned to the hood of the speedboat, his face shredded by glass, his leg mangled, screaming as his panicked eyes watch a TENTACLE slowly squirm across the hood toward him, it's hideous feelers writhe and arch. Canton backs away from it as far as he can. Another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up next to him. Canton crawls away from that one. Its Feelers and Suckers unsheathe, dripping mucus. Canton's eyes widen, horrified. Then another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up. Canton crawls to the center of the hood. And another TENTACLE. Canton has nowhere to go. The Tentacles close in on him. CANTON No! No! No! All the tentacles rise over him, about to descend. CANTON (CONT'D) NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! CUT TO: 129 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 129 Finnegan and Trillian race for all they are worth, clamber over the side of the Fuji Maru, dropping to the deck of the Saipan. CUT TO: 130 SAIPAN - NIGHT 130 Finnegan and Trillian slowly clamber through the hold, waist deep in water, on edge, eyes wide, watching for any sign of trouble. It's quiet in here. Maybe too quiet. TRILLIAN (quietly) Finnegan... FINNEGAN Yeah... TRILLIAN ...the minute you start your engines ...it's going to kill us, isn't it? They step up to one of the big CRATES. Finnegan starts SMASHING it with the butt of his pulse-rifle. The CRATE BURST OPEN. REVEALING the WARHEAD of the torpedo. Trillian is stunned. FINNEGAN Not unless we kill it first. Finnegan SMASHES more of the CRATE, it falls apart, REVEALING the entire torpedo. He hands her his pulse rifle. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) Anything moves, you shoot. Finnegan starts to yank open the top plates of the missile head. Trillian looks around nervously. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) There's not much horsepower left in the engines, but there's enough noise...once this baby's set...I'll rev it up...that slimy bastard will come for it like candy... TRILLIAN If you blow up your boat, how are we going to get to the island? FINNEGAN Jet ski...there's one left up there. The plate comes loose. Revealing a gaggle of wires, and parts. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...let's see, it was red wire cross compressor blue wire...or blue cross red? He starts to fiddle with the wires. -- Suddenly, there's a LOUD SLOSHING SOUND right behind them! CRATES TOPPLE! More pulse rifles spill out. Trillian spins, ready to blast away with the pulse rifle, to... PANTUCCI Don't shoot!! Don't shoot!! FINNEGAN Just the man I wanted to see. On this puppy here, you remember if it's red to blue or blue to red... He refers to the wires. PANTUCCI Not even a Joey, I'm glad to see you? Joey, what happened to your leg? FINNEGAN Joey, you want to get sucked out by a giant fucking mutated squid? PANTUCCI (fast) Red cross over to blue double blue ...is that what it is? A squid? FINNEGAN Squid...squid like...squid type... it's got tentacles, a feed sac... probably one central nervous processor somewhere...what the hell do I know is going on deep down in the ocean...there's all sorts of shit we've never seen...eighty foot clams...60 foot sharks...I'm just guessing...can you get me more juice out of Hercules...fast? PANTUCCI For juice, I gotta rebuild. That's not fast. TRILLIAN How about noise? Can you get noise? We don't need speed, just noise, right? FINNEGAN Right... PANTUCCI Can somebody tell me what the object of the exercise is here? FINNEGAN Seafood salad. (to Trillian) You ever operate a jet ski? TRILLIAN (nervous) You want ME to go up there? FINNEGAN Not unless you can wire a missile or fix an engine. TRILLIAN And what if I run into one of those things? Finnegan tosses her a pulse rifle from the overturned crate. FINNEGAN Don't forget the safety. She hits the safety, slams a shell into chamber... TRILLIAN Don't take too long...I'm not planning on being on the menu tonight. ...and exits. PANTUCCI (razzing) I've never seen you so congenial with a member of the opposite sex... The two of you got a nice patter going...got a nice rapport... FINNEGAN And you got 10 minutes before this thing livens up a boring evening. Finnegan attaches a wire to a sprocket. A red light starts to blink on the warhead. CUT TO: 131 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 131 It is VERY DARK. The RAIN is getting worse. THUNDER RUMBLES. LIGHTNING FLASHES. The FUJI MARU MOANS and CREAKS. BUBBLES EXPLODE from beneath it. The Saipan rocks against her hull. Trillian clambers along the TILTING RAILING, heading for the watersports platform. Her gorgeous eyes shift nervously. TRILLIAN I'm going to be OK...I'm going to be OK... The ship's METAL HULL SCREECHES. The SEAWATER BUBBLES and GURGLES. From somewhere deep inside the ship, we HEAR that loud primordial YOWL again. Trillian freezes, her heart double beats. She looks around, really scared. CUT TO: 132 SAIPAN'S HOLD - NIGHT 132 The missile is on a hoist being pushed forward by Pantucci and Finnegan toward a GAPING HOLE in the PORT BOW. PANTUCCI You know what I think? I think our luck has just about run shit out... FINNEGAN A little to the left... PANTUCCI I think we gotta stop floating from one fucked up situation to the next... FINNEGAN Line it up now, nice and easy... The missile head is right in line with the hole in the bow. PANTUCCI I'm telling you, man, we got to give the future some serious thought. FINNEGAN I have been. PANTUCCI And what have you come up with? FINNEGAN How does an island sound to you? Pantucci looks at Finnegan quizically. This is news to him. CUT TO: 133 SAIPAN - NIGHT 133 The TIP of the WARHEAD creeps out through the hole. The body of the missile is just a hair too wide, which is good, because it jams itself nice and tight into the hole. CUT TO: 134 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 134 Trillian takes the tarp off the remaining jet ski. Pushes the swivel arm that holds it out over the railing. The PLATFORM TILTS! Trillian loses her balance. Almost goes over the

side

How many times the word 'side' appears in the text?

FIRE and BUBBLES. Trillian looks around. Scared shitless. The bubbles clear just in time for her to see -- Chin, mouth open, eyes wide, screaming in agony, being ripped past her. She tries to fire her rifle. Too late. Trillian watches as Chin VANISHES down the shaft in a CLOUD OF BUBBLES. CUT TO: 100 KITCHEN - NIGHT 100 TRILLIAN BURSTS to the surface. FINNEGAN YANKS her up and out of the water. FINNEGAN You O.K.? Trillian can only nod, and gasp for breath. Canton and Hanover catch their breath, PANTING AWAY, waterlogged. Hanover reaches over to retrieve the rifle in Trillian's hand. Trillian points the barrel at him, and hits the safety. TRILLIAN (grim) Finders keepers. Mamooli bursts out of the water, falling on the floor, close to panic mode. MAMOOLI Where's Chin? TRILLIAN Gone... MAMOOLI This is not real! This is not bloody real! Finnegan TOPPLES a large, heavy metal BROILER onto the open floor gate, sealing the watery hole in the floor. There are two hatches in this room. The far hatch is closed. Mamooli stands next to an OPEN HATCH. Canton points to it. CANTON Through there...another sixty, seventy yards...there are more elevators there. PANTUCCI I ain't goin' up no more elevators. CANTON There's stairways... Mamooli SLAMS the HATCH SHUT. Eyes bugging out of his head. MAMOOLI I say we stay right here! PANTUCCI Are you crazy? MAMOOLI (desperate) There's plenty of food here. We can hold out...someone'll rescue us... FINNEGAN Who? MAMOOLI Someone...maybe they sent an SOS! PANTUCCI On what? This son of a bitch (to Canton) zapped the communications. HANOVER Mamooli stand down! MAMOOLI We don't even know if his boat is still there...you saw Billy! FINNEGAN Boat or no boat...I'm going... Finnegan steps forward. Mamooli aims his rifle right at Finnegan's head. MAMOOLI They're wipin' us out one at a time. I say we make a stand. Right here! Right now! Maximum firepower! PANTUCCI Somebody shoot this jerk! FINNEGAN (calm) Nobody's shooting nobody...come on, just let us through the hatch! MAMOOLI I'll kill you!! I'll fucking kill you!! I'll do it! I'll do it! I'm not playin' around here! Finnegan freezes. CLOSE ON: The hatch. As a BLACK LIQUID starts to OOZE through a tiny latch-hole. No one sees it. FINNEGAN I once saw a guy put a fish in a bottle, then he corked it, sealing it tight, and threw it to a baby octopus. The little sucker felt its way around that bottle, and in less than two minutes, got that cork off, slid inside, and ate that fish. MAMOOLI What the hell are you talking about? FINNEGAN Us...I'm talking about us... We're the fish. The LIQUID SHADOW OOZES down and hits the floor, starts to EXPAND, filling like a water balloon. It's not a liquid. It's a Tentacle. VEINS, FEELERS and SUCKERS begin to form. MAMOOLI And what? These things are octopuses FINNEGAN I don't know what these things are ...all I know is... The TENTACLE slowly RISES UP right behind Mamooli. Inches behind his head. Finnegan and Hanover see it. Eyes widening. MAMOOLI What...? What?? Mamooli turns to the tentacle looming over him, about to strike. MAMOOLI (CONT'D) EEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH!!!! He opens fire, emptying his clip into the tentacle. The tentacle retreats into the pipes. Mamooli looks around. The room is empty. He runs out. CUT TO: 101 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 101 Mamooli rushes into the empty passageway, looks left. Then right. His POV. Down the hall another TENTACLE comes racing at him. Mamooli panics, drops his rifle. TRACK WITH Mamooli racing down the hallway, looking over his shoulder in fear, as the tentacle comes racing after him...gaining...gaining... almost on him... Mamooli leaps through an open hatch, and swings it shut in one swift motion. The tentacle slams into the glass portal. Stopped. Mamooli keeps his eye on the portal, and backs up two steps. He lets out a long deep breath of relief, turns... WHAM!!! Another tentacle envelops his face! MAMOOLI EEEYYYAAAHHHH!!!!! CUT TO: 102 MECHANICAL CHAMBER - NIGHT 102 Dante's Inferno: STEAM, SMOKE, FIRE, STRANGE NOISES, DARK AREAS, and lots of MOVING ENGINE PARTS. Finnegan leads, followed by Trillian, Hanover, Pantucci, and Canton. We can HEAR their HEARTS BEATING. Scary shit. Finnegan heads for a open HATCH. It suddenly SLAMS SHUT. He instantly VEERS down another passageway. PANTUCCI What the hell is going on!! Finnegan heads for another open HATCHWAY. It also SLAMS SHUT. FINNEGAN They're herding us. Finnegan and company keep going. HANOVER What are you talking about? As they round a corner, the CEILING IMPLODES right in front of them. PIPES and OTHER MATTER CRASH down. Cutting them off. Leaving only one route open...a slim passageway. FINNEGAN Like cattle... TRILLIAN You're saying they can think? FINNEGAN I'm saying they're calling the shots... Finnegan heads toward the passageway. CANTON Do we have to go there? The ceiling left above them begins to torque, and splits. The answer is plain. Everyone runs into the passage just as the ceiling comes down. CUT TO: 103 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 103 Finnegan leads them single-file, they quickly head into a SHAKING narrow void. Fear has led to silence, and unbearable tension. The walls on either side creak, and moan with strange noises. CUT TO: 104 MID-HULL - NIGHT 104 Finnegan quickly comes out of the CREAKING, MOANING GANGWAY, followed by the others. All the STRANGE NOISES suddenly STOP. Everything gets quiet. Finnegan freezes. Something's wrong. Everybody looks around. STEAM SHOOTS OUT from multiple pipes. The air is thick with MIST. TRILLIAN What's the matter? FINNEGAN The quiet... HANOVER Maybe we lost them. FINNEGAN Or maybe we're exactly where they want us to be. Finnegan moves on. The others follow. Guns out front. TENSE. They round a huge metal pillar and come face-to-face with a soul-wrenching nightmare. The CREATURES' NEST -- OR STOMACH. Across a small portion of the ship's midsection, is a huge GELATINOUS WOMB. Imagine a massive thick wall of clear-yellow JELL-O, with hundreds of BLUE VEINS running through it. If it weren't all so horrific, it would be considered beautiful. Inside the womb, A DOZEN HUMANS, passengers, float around in some kind of twisted embryonic state, the living dead. They all seem to be breathing the gelatin. Several TENTACLES WRIGGLE through the stuff; which divides and re forms in some sort of strange mitosis. Finnegan and the others look at the passengers, horrified. But even more horrifying is that the people can look back at them. Many start to reach out, seemingly in slow motion as their hands ooze through the thick gelatin. Trillian looks sick, trembles in fear. TRILLIAN What is it? FINNEGAN A meat locker. TRILLIAN We can't just leave them here. Canton looks like he's about to throw up, he starts backing away, heading for a side hatch. CANTON I can. In the womb, a Tentacle suddenly approaches a sexy young LADY. The Lady tries to back-pedal away, but because of the gelatin, it's like one of those nightmares where you can only move in slow motion. The FEELERS GRIP her naked thigh. She tries to scream, but her face is already starting to constrict, her whole body is being paralyzed. Pantucci is so horrified he's about to cry. PANTUCCI Oh no...oh God please no. The TENTACLE-SAC gloms onto the Lady's forehead. THROUGH THE SAC we can SEE her SKIN MELTING. The only thing she can move are her EYES, which are bugging-out in absolute horror as she is imbibed alive. Our heroes are frozen in fear. Until the Lady's EYES LIQUEFY. Trillian burries her head in Finnegan's shoulder, trying to shut out the horror. FINNEGAN We can't do anything for them... Let's go... He begins to lead her toward the hatch...when her eyes recognized the old lady with the orchid in her hair. The old lady seems to see her too. Her hands read out, IMPLORING. Her mouth silently shapes the words: HELP ME! Just as a tentacle comes creeping toward her. TRILLIAN NOOO!! Her rage rises. She hefts her rifle, and starts blasting away. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) You won't get her!! You won't!! Spitting FLAMES and SMOKE. The BULLETS IMPACT the gelatin. BLASTING IT AWAY. But the bullets only manage to go about twenty feet into the thick shit before gliding to a stop. GELATIN EXPLODES all over the place. TRACER HOLES STREAK through the stuff. But all the bullets are sliding short. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) Finnegan...do something!! Please!! Finnegan looks around and spots the place in the ceiling where most of the Tentacles are coming from. Their long TAILS WIGGLE down from a massive clutter of pipes. A bas-relief of horror. Finnegan reaches over and yanks two thermite grenades off Hanover's utility belt. HANOVER Finnegan, No!!! ...bites the pins and spits them out. FINNEGAN Eat this. He chucks the grenades up into the strange WRITHING FRESCO, safely clear of the passengers. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) FIRE IN THE HOLE! Pantucci and Hanover throw themselves to the floor. Finnegan pulls Trillian down, covering her. BA-WOOM! GELATIN SPRAYS EVERYWHERE. CUT TO: 105 FUJI MARU - SAME TIME 105 A loud, creepy, suction-like SOUND is HEARD, that strange pitter- patter of little feet running across the hull. Then the HULL begins to MOAN and CREAK from an UNSEEN PRESSURE. CUT TO: 106 MID HULL - NIGHT 106 All the MOVEMENT STOPS. The remaining TENTACLES VANISH into the machinery. Pantucci, and Hanover look up from the floor, covered in slime. Finnegan and Trillian also look up...and then look at each other face to face...inches apart. Dripping with slime. FINNEGAN Looking good... TRILLIAN You should talk... Then the machinery shuts down. The engines go dead. ALL SOUND CUTS OUT. An expectant hush. Somewhere, WATER DRIPS... WE GO EXTREMELY CLOSE ON Trillian's EYES. Pantucci's EYES. Hanover's EYES. Finnegan's EYES. The air is riddled with ominous expectation. And that's when the HULL BEGINS TO TORQUE. RIVETS POP and SNAP. WATER SPRAYS. METAL BUCKLES. 107 SHOT: 107 At the far end of the ship, part of the LOWER BOW RIPS OPEN! AND A WALL OF WATER RUSHES IN. FLOOD CITY! Finnegan's eyes widen as he sees (MODEL SHOT) the massive WAVE OF WATER CRASHING TOWARDS THEM. RIPPING OUT PIPES, DUCTS, WALLS, EQUIPMENT and EVERYTHING in front of it. FINNEGAN GO! GO! GO! They all hightail it for hatches. Finnegan and Trillian make it into one hatch. Hanover and Pantucci make it into another. WATER CRASHES and SPRAYS behind them. CUT TO: 108 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 108 Massive AIR BUBBLES EXPLODE out from under the bow. CUT TO: 109 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 109 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH up and down every passageway. And a CLAXTON RINGS, in accelerating tones, giving a frenetic urgency to ALL OF THE FOLLOWING SCENES: 110 A PASSAGEWAY: 110 WATER BLASTS through a hatch and CHASES Finnegan and Trillian down a passageway. They jag left at an intersection -- WATER BLASTS through the hatch directly in front of them. FINNEGAN We're going to sink! We've got to get on deck! They backtrack. Trillian's now in the lead. They HAUL ASS down a hallway. WATER ROARING IN from everywhere behind them. All of the watertight HATCHES begin to hydraulically CLOSE. Trillian and Finnegan JAG into a hatch. It's a small room. The hatch in front of them closes. WATER BLASTS in behind them. SWEEPS them off their feet. The ROOM quickly starts to FILL UP. Trillian pulls frantically at the hatch. CUT TO: 111 NARROW PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 111 Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through knee-high water. Pantucci stumbles into the water, frantically scrambles up. He looks back -- UNDER THE WATER, INKY FORMS hurl themselves down the passageway right towards him. Pantucci YELPS, and splashes away. CUT TO: 112 SUBMERGING ROOM - NIGHT 112 Trillian and Finnegan pull with all their might on a tiny portal. Finnegan tries to insert the blade of his knife in the crack. TRILLIAN So how do you get from the Bronx to the South China sea? FINNEGAN You quit high school, lie about your age, join the navy, and next thing you know, four years are up and you need a way to make a living... The knife blade slips into the crack. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) I'll break the seal! Pull. He yanks the blade. Trillian pulls. The seal pops. The portal flies open. Waist-high in water, Trillian sticks her arm out, tries to get her shoulder out, but there's no chance in hell of that. TRILLIAN Too small! She pulls her arm out. And a TENTACLE LUNGES IN. Just missing Trillian. It SPLASHES under the water. GRABS Finnegan's ankle. Pulls him under. FINNEGAN sticks the barrel of his gun underwater and OPENS FIRE. WATER EXPLODES. The Tentacle recoils. And rips itself back out the porthole. Trillian SLAMS the PORTHOLE SHUT and dogs it tight. The WATER QUICKLY RISES. CUT TO: 113 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 113 Pantucci and Hanover hauling ass. Hanover pulls out his last two Thermite grenades. Pantucci panics and grabs for them. PANTUCCI Gimme one! Gimme one! He knocks both of them out of Hanover's hands. They DISAPPEAR under the water. HANOVER You idiot! They quickly fumble around in the water, trying to find them. A TENTACLE BLASTS around the corner. Partially obscured by the wave in front of it. Heading right for them. Hanover finds the two grenades. Gives one to Pantucci. They rip the pins out and toss the grenades behind them. Then HAUL ASS faster. The Tentacle right behind them. A BEAT. And then the GRENADES EXPLODE, BA-WOOM! BA-WOOM! CUT TO: 114 FUJI MARY - NIGHT 114 The storm hammers the deck. Canton staggers out onto the RAIN SLICKED DECK just in time to see -- A HOLE BEING BLOWN OUT the side of the Fuji Maru's HULL. BUBBLES continue to EXPLODE OUT from under the bow. CANTON Oh my God, it's going to sink. Then slowly, Canton gets a gleam in his eye, now thrilled. CANTON (CONT'D) It's going to sink. CUT TO: 115 SUBMERGED ROOM - NIGHT 115 Finnegan and Trillian are getting banged around the frothy WATER as it quickly RISES. Now only inches from the ceiling. Trapped. They're about to drown. Finnegan keeps looking around, trying to figure a way out. TRILLIAN I was so goddamn close, Finnegan! So goddamn close to my island... I could almost taste the sand... FINNEGAN Keep tasting... Finnegan shoves the pulse rifle to the ceiling. And blasts away until part of the ceiling falls out and into the water. There's just enough room between two metal beams to get out. The rising WATER SHOVES them up through the hole. CUT TO: 116 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 116 Side-by-side, Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through waist-high water. They round a corner and look back -- INKY FORMS SLOSH around the corner. Heading right for them. They slog faster. PANTUCCI They're catchin' up! They're catchin' up! We gotta slow 'em down! HANOVER Feed them. That'll slow them down. A black STRIATED MUSCLE ROILS out of the foamy water, then quickly VANISHES under it, heading straight for them. PANTUCCI Feed 'em?!! Okay! All right! Feed 'em what? WHAT ARE WE GONNA FEED 'EM?! Hanover takes his pistol and SHOOTS Pantucci in the leg, BLAM! Pantucci SCREAMS. FALLS into the water. Hanover RUNS on. Pantucci doesn't even have time to deal with the pain. He starts SCRAMBLING through the water. UNDERWATER, the INKY FORMS RACE AFTER HIM. Only meters away. Pantucci throws himself into the opening of a dumbwaiter. SLAMS the DOOR SHUT. The TENTACLE ATTACKS the door. WORMING its way across the surface, trying to find a way inside. Pantucci is scared beyond his pain. Pushing back as far as he can against the rear wall, he sees the control button. He presses the up arrow. The dumbwaiter starts to move. CUT TO: 117 FUJI MARU REAR DECK - DAY 117 The Saipan is still bobbing behind the Fuji Maru. But the HARPOON HOOK, which holds the tow-line and is embedded into the rear deck of the ship, is starting to PRY LOOSE. It JERKS and BUCKS against the metal wall. Canton doesn't notice this as he slips and slides his way up to the railing. He sees the Saipan and smiles. Then he looks off at -- 118 ISLAND 118 rising out of the ocean. About a mile away. Canton starts to climb over the railing. And that's when the HARPOON HOOK RIPS FREE. WHIZZES FORWARD. And IMPALES Canton's LEG. He SCREAMS. Tries to spin free. The hook hangs onto his leg for a long, agonizing BEAT as Canton continues to SCREAM. Then the HOOK RIPS FREE, grabs the METAL RAILING and starts TEARING IT off the deck. Canton drops to the deck, holding his leg and whimpering in pain. And then he sees it -- 119 SPEEDBOAT 119 dangling from its harness down on the watersports platform. 120 TO SCENE 120 Canton starts to crawl for it. Moaning and bleeding. CUT TO: 121 CRYSTAL POOL DECK - NIGHT 121 Finnegan and Trillian race up onto the pool deck. Passing beneath a colorful NEON SIGN which READS: "THE FUJI MARU - YOUR FUN SHIP" In the dark, Trillian trips. She falls to the slippery, waterlogged deck, and SCREAMS... TRILLIAN EEEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH! ...clawing at her face... Finnegan pulls her hands from her face...and the thing that attached itself there...a small squid from the shattered aquarium. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) (freaked) Ah...ah...ah... Tries to catch her breath. FINNEGAN It's OK...it's not one of them... it's from the aquarium...it's... And then it dawns on Finnegan. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's not them...it's it... TRILLIAN What? FINNEGAN You know what kind of force it took to rip open the bow of this ship? A million little things like this... He holds up the squid. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...can't exert that kind of pressure... And the way it tracked us? A million little things don't carry portable phones to coordinate positions... What's chasing us... it's one...thing...one giant... thing. SMASH CUT TO: 122 ARIAL POV - MATTE FX SHOT - NIGHT 122 ...looking down on the Fuji Maru from high up in the air. Beneath the ENTIRE SHIP is an enormous, undulating BLACK SHADOW. A massive monster from the deep. CUT TO: 123 CASINO - NIGHT 123 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH. The CLAXTON RINGS. Off to one side of a wall, behind the bar, the dumbwaiter door opens, and Pantucci tumbles out, looks around, and then hears... HANOVER (V.O.) Help!! Help!! Pantucci limps around the bar, down a row of one armed bandits... rounds a corner, comes face-to-face with Hanover. Hanover's eyes are filled with terror and despair. His face is badly constricted. His body paralyzed. He clings to a black-jack table as a Tentacle-Sac drinks its way up his leg. It's already to his hip. He grasps desperately for his pistol, just beyond his reach on the floor. This guy ain't gonna survive. PANTUCCI YELPS and quickly back away, eyes wide, totally tense. He looks around, sees that there's only one Tentacle, and it's completely occupied with devouring Hanover. Pantucci is wigged, but manages to lock eyes with Hanover. Then he looks at the Sac, filled with regurgitated flesh. PANTUCCI ...even you don't deserve this. Pantucci picks up Hanover's pistol. Then slowly, cautiously, he creeps forward, and sticks the gun into Hanover's TWITCHING HAND. PANTUCCI (CONT'D) I'm sorry man... He turns and quickly limps off. Hanover's EYES look down at the gun in his hand. Then, with all the strength he has left, he slowly, painfully, turns the pistol so it points at his head. CLOSE ON: Hanover's trembling FINGER. As it slowly squeezes the trigger. He want to kill himself. Needs to hill himself. He squeezes harder. The TRIGGER DEPRESSES! -- CLICK! The gun is empty. Hanover's mouth opens in a horrible, silent scream. CUT TO: 124 REAR DECK - SAME TIME 124 Finnegan and Trillian race out onto the rear deck just as the HARPOON HOOK finishes TEARING the railing off the ship. The HOOK, the TOW- LINE, and the ENTIRE RAILING DROP over the side and fall OUT OF SIGHT. The TWO BOATS are now UNCOUPLED. Finnegan reels at the rain soaked sky. FINNEGAN Will somebody give me a break here? And that's when Finnegan and Trillian hear the SOUND of a HYDRAULIC HOIST. They look over -- 125 AT THE WATERSPORTS PLATFORM: 125 The speedboat is being hydraulically lowered into the water. Canton sits inside, fiddling with the ignition. ANGLE ON: Trillian and Finnegan racing down the spiral stairs leading to the watersports platform. TRILLIAN Wait! Stop! The boat touches down into the water. CANTON I'd like to but I have an appointment with my insurance broker! He HITS the HOIST-RELEASE BUTTON. The speedboat breaks free. Canton HITS the IGNITION. The boat's ENGINE ROARS. CANTON (CONT'D) Life takes the damndest turns, doesn't it? He red-lines the THROTTLE. The SPEEDBOAT HAULS ASS away from the cruiseliner. Canton steers for the island. Smiling. ANGLE ON: Trillian IN HER RAGE... TRILLIAN You son of a bitch!! She grabs Finnegan's pulse rifle, hefts it to her shoulder... FINNEGAN Look! He forces her to look in the distance. Their POV. The island. TRILLIAN Oh my god! Oh my god! How do we do it? How do we get there? FINNEGAN Not like him. Finnegan points to the water...and an INKY PSEUDOPOD FORM racing after the speedboat underwater. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's the engine...it can hear the engine...it goes for the loudest sound... The Tentacle quickly picks up speed, going faster and faster, getting closer and closer, stretching further and further. Suddenly, behind them, a METALLIC THRASHING SOUND is HEARD. They turn around and look -- The hook, the tow-line, and the entire railing have dropped down onto the watersports platform and are tangled up around the two jet skis, trying to tear free -- The Saipan is still clinging by its fingernails to the Fuji Maru! Finnegan races over to a WINCH and grabs the winch- line. CUT TO: 126 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 126 Canton, smiling brightly, peers at the approaching island through the speedboat's windscreen. So relieved he sings to himself, from the operetta H.M.S. PINAFORE. CANTON Oh we sail the ocean blue, and our mighty ship's a beauty. We are strong men, yes it's true, and responsive to our duty... When...YANK!!...the SPEEDBOAT is GRABBED from below, practically exploding as it DISINTEGRATES into TWO PIECES. Canton is PROPELLED through the windscreen and onto the hood. CUT TO: 127 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 127 Finnegan struggles to clip the winch-line onto the tow-line, hanging precariously over the edge of the ship, clip in one hand, winch-line in the other. The whole METAL MESS is BUCKING and TWISTING and SCREECHING. His every joint is being ripped out of socket as he strains to get the clip on the line before the entire rig tears away into the sea. With one last heroic effort of will and grit, he snaps the clip in place just as it all BREAKS LOOSE. One of the JET SKIS and the ENTIRE RAILING are RIPPED over the side and fall down into the ocean. Finnegan is also YANKED over the side, but he manages to hold on by his fingers, dangling precariously. FINNEGAN Hit it! Hit it! The HOOK and the TOW-LINE drop -- then SNAP TAUGHT as the winch-line holds them tight. Trillian throws the start lever on the winch. The WINCH KICKS ON and starts reeling in the Saipan. Finnegan tries to crawl up on the deck, exhausted. Trillian reaches down and pulls him the rest of the way up. He half collapses on top of her. TRILLIAN You know, Finnegan, I'm starting to believe what you said about you not being born to die on a luxury liner. Despite the grimness of their position, the closeness of their bodies is...a turn on...to both of them...and then a SCREAM from the sea. They look in the direction of... CUT TO: 128 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 128 Canton is pinned to the hood of the speedboat, his face shredded by glass, his leg mangled, screaming as his panicked eyes watch a TENTACLE slowly squirm across the hood toward him, it's hideous feelers writhe and arch. Canton backs away from it as far as he can. Another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up next to him. Canton crawls away from that one. Its Feelers and Suckers unsheathe, dripping mucus. Canton's eyes widen, horrified. Then another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up. Canton crawls to the center of the hood. And another TENTACLE. Canton has nowhere to go. The Tentacles close in on him. CANTON No! No! No! All the tentacles rise over him, about to descend. CANTON (CONT'D) NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! CUT TO: 129 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 129 Finnegan and Trillian race for all they are worth, clamber over the side of the Fuji Maru, dropping to the deck of the Saipan. CUT TO: 130 SAIPAN - NIGHT 130 Finnegan and Trillian slowly clamber through the hold, waist deep in water, on edge, eyes wide, watching for any sign of trouble. It's quiet in here. Maybe too quiet. TRILLIAN (quietly) Finnegan... FINNEGAN Yeah... TRILLIAN ...the minute you start your engines ...it's going to kill us, isn't it? They step up to one of the big CRATES. Finnegan starts SMASHING it with the butt of his pulse-rifle. The CRATE BURST OPEN. REVEALING the WARHEAD of the torpedo. Trillian is stunned. FINNEGAN Not unless we kill it first. Finnegan SMASHES more of the CRATE, it falls apart, REVEALING the entire torpedo. He hands her his pulse rifle. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) Anything moves, you shoot. Finnegan starts to yank open the top plates of the missile head. Trillian looks around nervously. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) There's not much horsepower left in the engines, but there's enough noise...once this baby's set...I'll rev it up...that slimy bastard will come for it like candy... TRILLIAN If you blow up your boat, how are we going to get to the island? FINNEGAN Jet ski...there's one left up there. The plate comes loose. Revealing a gaggle of wires, and parts. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...let's see, it was red wire cross compressor blue wire...or blue cross red? He starts to fiddle with the wires. -- Suddenly, there's a LOUD SLOSHING SOUND right behind them! CRATES TOPPLE! More pulse rifles spill out. Trillian spins, ready to blast away with the pulse rifle, to... PANTUCCI Don't shoot!! Don't shoot!! FINNEGAN Just the man I wanted to see. On this puppy here, you remember if it's red to blue or blue to red... He refers to the wires. PANTUCCI Not even a Joey, I'm glad to see you? Joey, what happened to your leg? FINNEGAN Joey, you want to get sucked out by a giant fucking mutated squid? PANTUCCI (fast) Red cross over to blue double blue ...is that what it is? A squid? FINNEGAN Squid...squid like...squid type... it's got tentacles, a feed sac... probably one central nervous processor somewhere...what the hell do I know is going on deep down in the ocean...there's all sorts of shit we've never seen...eighty foot clams...60 foot sharks...I'm just guessing...can you get me more juice out of Hercules...fast? PANTUCCI For juice, I gotta rebuild. That's not fast. TRILLIAN How about noise? Can you get noise? We don't need speed, just noise, right? FINNEGAN Right... PANTUCCI Can somebody tell me what the object of the exercise is here? FINNEGAN Seafood salad. (to Trillian) You ever operate a jet ski? TRILLIAN (nervous) You want ME to go up there? FINNEGAN Not unless you can wire a missile or fix an engine. TRILLIAN And what if I run into one of those things? Finnegan tosses her a pulse rifle from the overturned crate. FINNEGAN Don't forget the safety. She hits the safety, slams a shell into chamber... TRILLIAN Don't take too long...I'm not planning on being on the menu tonight. ...and exits. PANTUCCI (razzing) I've never seen you so congenial with a member of the opposite sex... The two of you got a nice patter going...got a nice rapport... FINNEGAN And you got 10 minutes before this thing livens up a boring evening. Finnegan attaches a wire to a sprocket. A red light starts to blink on the warhead. CUT TO: 131 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 131 It is VERY DARK. The RAIN is getting worse. THUNDER RUMBLES. LIGHTNING FLASHES. The FUJI MARU MOANS and CREAKS. BUBBLES EXPLODE from beneath it. The Saipan rocks against her hull. Trillian clambers along the TILTING RAILING, heading for the watersports platform. Her gorgeous eyes shift nervously. TRILLIAN I'm going to be OK...I'm going to be OK... The ship's METAL HULL SCREECHES. The SEAWATER BUBBLES and GURGLES. From somewhere deep inside the ship, we HEAR that loud primordial YOWL again. Trillian freezes, her heart double beats. She looks around, really scared. CUT TO: 132 SAIPAN'S HOLD - NIGHT 132 The missile is on a hoist being pushed forward by Pantucci and Finnegan toward a GAPING HOLE in the PORT BOW. PANTUCCI You know what I think? I think our luck has just about run shit out... FINNEGAN A little to the left... PANTUCCI I think we gotta stop floating from one fucked up situation to the next... FINNEGAN Line it up now, nice and easy... The missile head is right in line with the hole in the bow. PANTUCCI I'm telling you, man, we got to give the future some serious thought. FINNEGAN I have been. PANTUCCI And what have you come up with? FINNEGAN How does an island sound to you? Pantucci looks at Finnegan quizically. This is news to him. CUT TO: 133 SAIPAN - NIGHT 133 The TIP of the WARHEAD creeps out through the hole. The body of the missile is just a hair too wide, which is good, because it jams itself nice and tight into the hole. CUT TO: 134 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 134 Trillian takes the tarp off the remaining jet ski. Pushes the swivel arm that holds it out over the railing. The PLATFORM TILTS! Trillian loses her balance. Almost goes over the

across

How many times the word 'across' appears in the text?

FIRE and BUBBLES. Trillian looks around. Scared shitless. The bubbles clear just in time for her to see -- Chin, mouth open, eyes wide, screaming in agony, being ripped past her. She tries to fire her rifle. Too late. Trillian watches as Chin VANISHES down the shaft in a CLOUD OF BUBBLES. CUT TO: 100 KITCHEN - NIGHT 100 TRILLIAN BURSTS to the surface. FINNEGAN YANKS her up and out of the water. FINNEGAN You O.K.? Trillian can only nod, and gasp for breath. Canton and Hanover catch their breath, PANTING AWAY, waterlogged. Hanover reaches over to retrieve the rifle in Trillian's hand. Trillian points the barrel at him, and hits the safety. TRILLIAN (grim) Finders keepers. Mamooli bursts out of the water, falling on the floor, close to panic mode. MAMOOLI Where's Chin? TRILLIAN Gone... MAMOOLI This is not real! This is not bloody real! Finnegan TOPPLES a large, heavy metal BROILER onto the open floor gate, sealing the watery hole in the floor. There are two hatches in this room. The far hatch is closed. Mamooli stands next to an OPEN HATCH. Canton points to it. CANTON Through there...another sixty, seventy yards...there are more elevators there. PANTUCCI I ain't goin' up no more elevators. CANTON There's stairways... Mamooli SLAMS the HATCH SHUT. Eyes bugging out of his head. MAMOOLI I say we stay right here! PANTUCCI Are you crazy? MAMOOLI (desperate) There's plenty of food here. We can hold out...someone'll rescue us... FINNEGAN Who? MAMOOLI Someone...maybe they sent an SOS! PANTUCCI On what? This son of a bitch (to Canton) zapped the communications. HANOVER Mamooli stand down! MAMOOLI We don't even know if his boat is still there...you saw Billy! FINNEGAN Boat or no boat...I'm going... Finnegan steps forward. Mamooli aims his rifle right at Finnegan's head. MAMOOLI They're wipin' us out one at a time. I say we make a stand. Right here! Right now! Maximum firepower! PANTUCCI Somebody shoot this jerk! FINNEGAN (calm) Nobody's shooting nobody...come on, just let us through the hatch! MAMOOLI I'll kill you!! I'll fucking kill you!! I'll do it! I'll do it! I'm not playin' around here! Finnegan freezes. CLOSE ON: The hatch. As a BLACK LIQUID starts to OOZE through a tiny latch-hole. No one sees it. FINNEGAN I once saw a guy put a fish in a bottle, then he corked it, sealing it tight, and threw it to a baby octopus. The little sucker felt its way around that bottle, and in less than two minutes, got that cork off, slid inside, and ate that fish. MAMOOLI What the hell are you talking about? FINNEGAN Us...I'm talking about us... We're the fish. The LIQUID SHADOW OOZES down and hits the floor, starts to EXPAND, filling like a water balloon. It's not a liquid. It's a Tentacle. VEINS, FEELERS and SUCKERS begin to form. MAMOOLI And what? These things are octopuses FINNEGAN I don't know what these things are ...all I know is... The TENTACLE slowly RISES UP right behind Mamooli. Inches behind his head. Finnegan and Hanover see it. Eyes widening. MAMOOLI What...? What?? Mamooli turns to the tentacle looming over him, about to strike. MAMOOLI (CONT'D) EEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH!!!! He opens fire, emptying his clip into the tentacle. The tentacle retreats into the pipes. Mamooli looks around. The room is empty. He runs out. CUT TO: 101 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 101 Mamooli rushes into the empty passageway, looks left. Then right. His POV. Down the hall another TENTACLE comes racing at him. Mamooli panics, drops his rifle. TRACK WITH Mamooli racing down the hallway, looking over his shoulder in fear, as the tentacle comes racing after him...gaining...gaining... almost on him... Mamooli leaps through an open hatch, and swings it shut in one swift motion. The tentacle slams into the glass portal. Stopped. Mamooli keeps his eye on the portal, and backs up two steps. He lets out a long deep breath of relief, turns... WHAM!!! Another tentacle envelops his face! MAMOOLI EEEYYYAAAHHHH!!!!! CUT TO: 102 MECHANICAL CHAMBER - NIGHT 102 Dante's Inferno: STEAM, SMOKE, FIRE, STRANGE NOISES, DARK AREAS, and lots of MOVING ENGINE PARTS. Finnegan leads, followed by Trillian, Hanover, Pantucci, and Canton. We can HEAR their HEARTS BEATING. Scary shit. Finnegan heads for a open HATCH. It suddenly SLAMS SHUT. He instantly VEERS down another passageway. PANTUCCI What the hell is going on!! Finnegan heads for another open HATCHWAY. It also SLAMS SHUT. FINNEGAN They're herding us. Finnegan and company keep going. HANOVER What are you talking about? As they round a corner, the CEILING IMPLODES right in front of them. PIPES and OTHER MATTER CRASH down. Cutting them off. Leaving only one route open...a slim passageway. FINNEGAN Like cattle... TRILLIAN You're saying they can think? FINNEGAN I'm saying they're calling the shots... Finnegan heads toward the passageway. CANTON Do we have to go there? The ceiling left above them begins to torque, and splits. The answer is plain. Everyone runs into the passage just as the ceiling comes down. CUT TO: 103 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 103 Finnegan leads them single-file, they quickly head into a SHAKING narrow void. Fear has led to silence, and unbearable tension. The walls on either side creak, and moan with strange noises. CUT TO: 104 MID-HULL - NIGHT 104 Finnegan quickly comes out of the CREAKING, MOANING GANGWAY, followed by the others. All the STRANGE NOISES suddenly STOP. Everything gets quiet. Finnegan freezes. Something's wrong. Everybody looks around. STEAM SHOOTS OUT from multiple pipes. The air is thick with MIST. TRILLIAN What's the matter? FINNEGAN The quiet... HANOVER Maybe we lost them. FINNEGAN Or maybe we're exactly where they want us to be. Finnegan moves on. The others follow. Guns out front. TENSE. They round a huge metal pillar and come face-to-face with a soul-wrenching nightmare. The CREATURES' NEST -- OR STOMACH. Across a small portion of the ship's midsection, is a huge GELATINOUS WOMB. Imagine a massive thick wall of clear-yellow JELL-O, with hundreds of BLUE VEINS running through it. If it weren't all so horrific, it would be considered beautiful. Inside the womb, A DOZEN HUMANS, passengers, float around in some kind of twisted embryonic state, the living dead. They all seem to be breathing the gelatin. Several TENTACLES WRIGGLE through the stuff; which divides and re forms in some sort of strange mitosis. Finnegan and the others look at the passengers, horrified. But even more horrifying is that the people can look back at them. Many start to reach out, seemingly in slow motion as their hands ooze through the thick gelatin. Trillian looks sick, trembles in fear. TRILLIAN What is it? FINNEGAN A meat locker. TRILLIAN We can't just leave them here. Canton looks like he's about to throw up, he starts backing away, heading for a side hatch. CANTON I can. In the womb, a Tentacle suddenly approaches a sexy young LADY. The Lady tries to back-pedal away, but because of the gelatin, it's like one of those nightmares where you can only move in slow motion. The FEELERS GRIP her naked thigh. She tries to scream, but her face is already starting to constrict, her whole body is being paralyzed. Pantucci is so horrified he's about to cry. PANTUCCI Oh no...oh God please no. The TENTACLE-SAC gloms onto the Lady's forehead. THROUGH THE SAC we can SEE her SKIN MELTING. The only thing she can move are her EYES, which are bugging-out in absolute horror as she is imbibed alive. Our heroes are frozen in fear. Until the Lady's EYES LIQUEFY. Trillian burries her head in Finnegan's shoulder, trying to shut out the horror. FINNEGAN We can't do anything for them... Let's go... He begins to lead her toward the hatch...when her eyes recognized the old lady with the orchid in her hair. The old lady seems to see her too. Her hands read out, IMPLORING. Her mouth silently shapes the words: HELP ME! Just as a tentacle comes creeping toward her. TRILLIAN NOOO!! Her rage rises. She hefts her rifle, and starts blasting away. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) You won't get her!! You won't!! Spitting FLAMES and SMOKE. The BULLETS IMPACT the gelatin. BLASTING IT AWAY. But the bullets only manage to go about twenty feet into the thick shit before gliding to a stop. GELATIN EXPLODES all over the place. TRACER HOLES STREAK through the stuff. But all the bullets are sliding short. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) Finnegan...do something!! Please!! Finnegan looks around and spots the place in the ceiling where most of the Tentacles are coming from. Their long TAILS WIGGLE down from a massive clutter of pipes. A bas-relief of horror. Finnegan reaches over and yanks two thermite grenades off Hanover's utility belt. HANOVER Finnegan, No!!! ...bites the pins and spits them out. FINNEGAN Eat this. He chucks the grenades up into the strange WRITHING FRESCO, safely clear of the passengers. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) FIRE IN THE HOLE! Pantucci and Hanover throw themselves to the floor. Finnegan pulls Trillian down, covering her. BA-WOOM! GELATIN SPRAYS EVERYWHERE. CUT TO: 105 FUJI MARU - SAME TIME 105 A loud, creepy, suction-like SOUND is HEARD, that strange pitter- patter of little feet running across the hull. Then the HULL begins to MOAN and CREAK from an UNSEEN PRESSURE. CUT TO: 106 MID HULL - NIGHT 106 All the MOVEMENT STOPS. The remaining TENTACLES VANISH into the machinery. Pantucci, and Hanover look up from the floor, covered in slime. Finnegan and Trillian also look up...and then look at each other face to face...inches apart. Dripping with slime. FINNEGAN Looking good... TRILLIAN You should talk... Then the machinery shuts down. The engines go dead. ALL SOUND CUTS OUT. An expectant hush. Somewhere, WATER DRIPS... WE GO EXTREMELY CLOSE ON Trillian's EYES. Pantucci's EYES. Hanover's EYES. Finnegan's EYES. The air is riddled with ominous expectation. And that's when the HULL BEGINS TO TORQUE. RIVETS POP and SNAP. WATER SPRAYS. METAL BUCKLES. 107 SHOT: 107 At the far end of the ship, part of the LOWER BOW RIPS OPEN! AND A WALL OF WATER RUSHES IN. FLOOD CITY! Finnegan's eyes widen as he sees (MODEL SHOT) the massive WAVE OF WATER CRASHING TOWARDS THEM. RIPPING OUT PIPES, DUCTS, WALLS, EQUIPMENT and EVERYTHING in front of it. FINNEGAN GO! GO! GO! They all hightail it for hatches. Finnegan and Trillian make it into one hatch. Hanover and Pantucci make it into another. WATER CRASHES and SPRAYS behind them. CUT TO: 108 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 108 Massive AIR BUBBLES EXPLODE out from under the bow. CUT TO: 109 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 109 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH up and down every passageway. And a CLAXTON RINGS, in accelerating tones, giving a frenetic urgency to ALL OF THE FOLLOWING SCENES: 110 A PASSAGEWAY: 110 WATER BLASTS through a hatch and CHASES Finnegan and Trillian down a passageway. They jag left at an intersection -- WATER BLASTS through the hatch directly in front of them. FINNEGAN We're going to sink! We've got to get on deck! They backtrack. Trillian's now in the lead. They HAUL ASS down a hallway. WATER ROARING IN from everywhere behind them. All of the watertight HATCHES begin to hydraulically CLOSE. Trillian and Finnegan JAG into a hatch. It's a small room. The hatch in front of them closes. WATER BLASTS in behind them. SWEEPS them off their feet. The ROOM quickly starts to FILL UP. Trillian pulls frantically at the hatch. CUT TO: 111 NARROW PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 111 Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through knee-high water. Pantucci stumbles into the water, frantically scrambles up. He looks back -- UNDER THE WATER, INKY FORMS hurl themselves down the passageway right towards him. Pantucci YELPS, and splashes away. CUT TO: 112 SUBMERGING ROOM - NIGHT 112 Trillian and Finnegan pull with all their might on a tiny portal. Finnegan tries to insert the blade of his knife in the crack. TRILLIAN So how do you get from the Bronx to the South China sea? FINNEGAN You quit high school, lie about your age, join the navy, and next thing you know, four years are up and you need a way to make a living... The knife blade slips into the crack. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) I'll break the seal! Pull. He yanks the blade. Trillian pulls. The seal pops. The portal flies open. Waist-high in water, Trillian sticks her arm out, tries to get her shoulder out, but there's no chance in hell of that. TRILLIAN Too small! She pulls her arm out. And a TENTACLE LUNGES IN. Just missing Trillian. It SPLASHES under the water. GRABS Finnegan's ankle. Pulls him under. FINNEGAN sticks the barrel of his gun underwater and OPENS FIRE. WATER EXPLODES. The Tentacle recoils. And rips itself back out the porthole. Trillian SLAMS the PORTHOLE SHUT and dogs it tight. The WATER QUICKLY RISES. CUT TO: 113 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 113 Pantucci and Hanover hauling ass. Hanover pulls out his last two Thermite grenades. Pantucci panics and grabs for them. PANTUCCI Gimme one! Gimme one! He knocks both of them out of Hanover's hands. They DISAPPEAR under the water. HANOVER You idiot! They quickly fumble around in the water, trying to find them. A TENTACLE BLASTS around the corner. Partially obscured by the wave in front of it. Heading right for them. Hanover finds the two grenades. Gives one to Pantucci. They rip the pins out and toss the grenades behind them. Then HAUL ASS faster. The Tentacle right behind them. A BEAT. And then the GRENADES EXPLODE, BA-WOOM! BA-WOOM! CUT TO: 114 FUJI MARY - NIGHT 114 The storm hammers the deck. Canton staggers out onto the RAIN SLICKED DECK just in time to see -- A HOLE BEING BLOWN OUT the side of the Fuji Maru's HULL. BUBBLES continue to EXPLODE OUT from under the bow. CANTON Oh my God, it's going to sink. Then slowly, Canton gets a gleam in his eye, now thrilled. CANTON (CONT'D) It's going to sink. CUT TO: 115 SUBMERGED ROOM - NIGHT 115 Finnegan and Trillian are getting banged around the frothy WATER as it quickly RISES. Now only inches from the ceiling. Trapped. They're about to drown. Finnegan keeps looking around, trying to figure a way out. TRILLIAN I was so goddamn close, Finnegan! So goddamn close to my island... I could almost taste the sand... FINNEGAN Keep tasting... Finnegan shoves the pulse rifle to the ceiling. And blasts away until part of the ceiling falls out and into the water. There's just enough room between two metal beams to get out. The rising WATER SHOVES them up through the hole. CUT TO: 116 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 116 Side-by-side, Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through waist-high water. They round a corner and look back -- INKY FORMS SLOSH around the corner. Heading right for them. They slog faster. PANTUCCI They're catchin' up! They're catchin' up! We gotta slow 'em down! HANOVER Feed them. That'll slow them down. A black STRIATED MUSCLE ROILS out of the foamy water, then quickly VANISHES under it, heading straight for them. PANTUCCI Feed 'em?!! Okay! All right! Feed 'em what? WHAT ARE WE GONNA FEED 'EM?! Hanover takes his pistol and SHOOTS Pantucci in the leg, BLAM! Pantucci SCREAMS. FALLS into the water. Hanover RUNS on. Pantucci doesn't even have time to deal with the pain. He starts SCRAMBLING through the water. UNDERWATER, the INKY FORMS RACE AFTER HIM. Only meters away. Pantucci throws himself into the opening of a dumbwaiter. SLAMS the DOOR SHUT. The TENTACLE ATTACKS the door. WORMING its way across the surface, trying to find a way inside. Pantucci is scared beyond his pain. Pushing back as far as he can against the rear wall, he sees the control button. He presses the up arrow. The dumbwaiter starts to move. CUT TO: 117 FUJI MARU REAR DECK - DAY 117 The Saipan is still bobbing behind the Fuji Maru. But the HARPOON HOOK, which holds the tow-line and is embedded into the rear deck of the ship, is starting to PRY LOOSE. It JERKS and BUCKS against the metal wall. Canton doesn't notice this as he slips and slides his way up to the railing. He sees the Saipan and smiles. Then he looks off at -- 118 ISLAND 118 rising out of the ocean. About a mile away. Canton starts to climb over the railing. And that's when the HARPOON HOOK RIPS FREE. WHIZZES FORWARD. And IMPALES Canton's LEG. He SCREAMS. Tries to spin free. The hook hangs onto his leg for a long, agonizing BEAT as Canton continues to SCREAM. Then the HOOK RIPS FREE, grabs the METAL RAILING and starts TEARING IT off the deck. Canton drops to the deck, holding his leg and whimpering in pain. And then he sees it -- 119 SPEEDBOAT 119 dangling from its harness down on the watersports platform. 120 TO SCENE 120 Canton starts to crawl for it. Moaning and bleeding. CUT TO: 121 CRYSTAL POOL DECK - NIGHT 121 Finnegan and Trillian race up onto the pool deck. Passing beneath a colorful NEON SIGN which READS: "THE FUJI MARU - YOUR FUN SHIP" In the dark, Trillian trips. She falls to the slippery, waterlogged deck, and SCREAMS... TRILLIAN EEEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH! ...clawing at her face... Finnegan pulls her hands from her face...and the thing that attached itself there...a small squid from the shattered aquarium. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) (freaked) Ah...ah...ah... Tries to catch her breath. FINNEGAN It's OK...it's not one of them... it's from the aquarium...it's... And then it dawns on Finnegan. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's not them...it's it... TRILLIAN What? FINNEGAN You know what kind of force it took to rip open the bow of this ship? A million little things like this... He holds up the squid. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...can't exert that kind of pressure... And the way it tracked us? A million little things don't carry portable phones to coordinate positions... What's chasing us... it's one...thing...one giant... thing. SMASH CUT TO: 122 ARIAL POV - MATTE FX SHOT - NIGHT 122 ...looking down on the Fuji Maru from high up in the air. Beneath the ENTIRE SHIP is an enormous, undulating BLACK SHADOW. A massive monster from the deep. CUT TO: 123 CASINO - NIGHT 123 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH. The CLAXTON RINGS. Off to one side of a wall, behind the bar, the dumbwaiter door opens, and Pantucci tumbles out, looks around, and then hears... HANOVER (V.O.) Help!! Help!! Pantucci limps around the bar, down a row of one armed bandits... rounds a corner, comes face-to-face with Hanover. Hanover's eyes are filled with terror and despair. His face is badly constricted. His body paralyzed. He clings to a black-jack table as a Tentacle-Sac drinks its way up his leg. It's already to his hip. He grasps desperately for his pistol, just beyond his reach on the floor. This guy ain't gonna survive. PANTUCCI YELPS and quickly back away, eyes wide, totally tense. He looks around, sees that there's only one Tentacle, and it's completely occupied with devouring Hanover. Pantucci is wigged, but manages to lock eyes with Hanover. Then he looks at the Sac, filled with regurgitated flesh. PANTUCCI ...even you don't deserve this. Pantucci picks up Hanover's pistol. Then slowly, cautiously, he creeps forward, and sticks the gun into Hanover's TWITCHING HAND. PANTUCCI (CONT'D) I'm sorry man... He turns and quickly limps off. Hanover's EYES look down at the gun in his hand. Then, with all the strength he has left, he slowly, painfully, turns the pistol so it points at his head. CLOSE ON: Hanover's trembling FINGER. As it slowly squeezes the trigger. He want to kill himself. Needs to hill himself. He squeezes harder. The TRIGGER DEPRESSES! -- CLICK! The gun is empty. Hanover's mouth opens in a horrible, silent scream. CUT TO: 124 REAR DECK - SAME TIME 124 Finnegan and Trillian race out onto the rear deck just as the HARPOON HOOK finishes TEARING the railing off the ship. The HOOK, the TOW- LINE, and the ENTIRE RAILING DROP over the side and fall OUT OF SIGHT. The TWO BOATS are now UNCOUPLED. Finnegan reels at the rain soaked sky. FINNEGAN Will somebody give me a break here? And that's when Finnegan and Trillian hear the SOUND of a HYDRAULIC HOIST. They look over -- 125 AT THE WATERSPORTS PLATFORM: 125 The speedboat is being hydraulically lowered into the water. Canton sits inside, fiddling with the ignition. ANGLE ON: Trillian and Finnegan racing down the spiral stairs leading to the watersports platform. TRILLIAN Wait! Stop! The boat touches down into the water. CANTON I'd like to but I have an appointment with my insurance broker! He HITS the HOIST-RELEASE BUTTON. The speedboat breaks free. Canton HITS the IGNITION. The boat's ENGINE ROARS. CANTON (CONT'D) Life takes the damndest turns, doesn't it? He red-lines the THROTTLE. The SPEEDBOAT HAULS ASS away from the cruiseliner. Canton steers for the island. Smiling. ANGLE ON: Trillian IN HER RAGE... TRILLIAN You son of a bitch!! She grabs Finnegan's pulse rifle, hefts it to her shoulder... FINNEGAN Look! He forces her to look in the distance. Their POV. The island. TRILLIAN Oh my god! Oh my god! How do we do it? How do we get there? FINNEGAN Not like him. Finnegan points to the water...and an INKY PSEUDOPOD FORM racing after the speedboat underwater. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's the engine...it can hear the engine...it goes for the loudest sound... The Tentacle quickly picks up speed, going faster and faster, getting closer and closer, stretching further and further. Suddenly, behind them, a METALLIC THRASHING SOUND is HEARD. They turn around and look -- The hook, the tow-line, and the entire railing have dropped down onto the watersports platform and are tangled up around the two jet skis, trying to tear free -- The Saipan is still clinging by its fingernails to the Fuji Maru! Finnegan races over to a WINCH and grabs the winch- line. CUT TO: 126 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 126 Canton, smiling brightly, peers at the approaching island through the speedboat's windscreen. So relieved he sings to himself, from the operetta H.M.S. PINAFORE. CANTON Oh we sail the ocean blue, and our mighty ship's a beauty. We are strong men, yes it's true, and responsive to our duty... When...YANK!!...the SPEEDBOAT is GRABBED from below, practically exploding as it DISINTEGRATES into TWO PIECES. Canton is PROPELLED through the windscreen and onto the hood. CUT TO: 127 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 127 Finnegan struggles to clip the winch-line onto the tow-line, hanging precariously over the edge of the ship, clip in one hand, winch-line in the other. The whole METAL MESS is BUCKING and TWISTING and SCREECHING. His every joint is being ripped out of socket as he strains to get the clip on the line before the entire rig tears away into the sea. With one last heroic effort of will and grit, he snaps the clip in place just as it all BREAKS LOOSE. One of the JET SKIS and the ENTIRE RAILING are RIPPED over the side and fall down into the ocean. Finnegan is also YANKED over the side, but he manages to hold on by his fingers, dangling precariously. FINNEGAN Hit it! Hit it! The HOOK and the TOW-LINE drop -- then SNAP TAUGHT as the winch-line holds them tight. Trillian throws the start lever on the winch. The WINCH KICKS ON and starts reeling in the Saipan. Finnegan tries to crawl up on the deck, exhausted. Trillian reaches down and pulls him the rest of the way up. He half collapses on top of her. TRILLIAN You know, Finnegan, I'm starting to believe what you said about you not being born to die on a luxury liner. Despite the grimness of their position, the closeness of their bodies is...a turn on...to both of them...and then a SCREAM from the sea. They look in the direction of... CUT TO: 128 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 128 Canton is pinned to the hood of the speedboat, his face shredded by glass, his leg mangled, screaming as his panicked eyes watch a TENTACLE slowly squirm across the hood toward him, it's hideous feelers writhe and arch. Canton backs away from it as far as he can. Another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up next to him. Canton crawls away from that one. Its Feelers and Suckers unsheathe, dripping mucus. Canton's eyes widen, horrified. Then another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up. Canton crawls to the center of the hood. And another TENTACLE. Canton has nowhere to go. The Tentacles close in on him. CANTON No! No! No! All the tentacles rise over him, about to descend. CANTON (CONT'D) NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! CUT TO: 129 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 129 Finnegan and Trillian race for all they are worth, clamber over the side of the Fuji Maru, dropping to the deck of the Saipan. CUT TO: 130 SAIPAN - NIGHT 130 Finnegan and Trillian slowly clamber through the hold, waist deep in water, on edge, eyes wide, watching for any sign of trouble. It's quiet in here. Maybe too quiet. TRILLIAN (quietly) Finnegan... FINNEGAN Yeah... TRILLIAN ...the minute you start your engines ...it's going to kill us, isn't it? They step up to one of the big CRATES. Finnegan starts SMASHING it with the butt of his pulse-rifle. The CRATE BURST OPEN. REVEALING the WARHEAD of the torpedo. Trillian is stunned. FINNEGAN Not unless we kill it first. Finnegan SMASHES more of the CRATE, it falls apart, REVEALING the entire torpedo. He hands her his pulse rifle. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) Anything moves, you shoot. Finnegan starts to yank open the top plates of the missile head. Trillian looks around nervously. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) There's not much horsepower left in the engines, but there's enough noise...once this baby's set...I'll rev it up...that slimy bastard will come for it like candy... TRILLIAN If you blow up your boat, how are we going to get to the island? FINNEGAN Jet ski...there's one left up there. The plate comes loose. Revealing a gaggle of wires, and parts. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...let's see, it was red wire cross compressor blue wire...or blue cross red? He starts to fiddle with the wires. -- Suddenly, there's a LOUD SLOSHING SOUND right behind them! CRATES TOPPLE! More pulse rifles spill out. Trillian spins, ready to blast away with the pulse rifle, to... PANTUCCI Don't shoot!! Don't shoot!! FINNEGAN Just the man I wanted to see. On this puppy here, you remember if it's red to blue or blue to red... He refers to the wires. PANTUCCI Not even a Joey, I'm glad to see you? Joey, what happened to your leg? FINNEGAN Joey, you want to get sucked out by a giant fucking mutated squid? PANTUCCI (fast) Red cross over to blue double blue ...is that what it is? A squid? FINNEGAN Squid...squid like...squid type... it's got tentacles, a feed sac... probably one central nervous processor somewhere...what the hell do I know is going on deep down in the ocean...there's all sorts of shit we've never seen...eighty foot clams...60 foot sharks...I'm just guessing...can you get me more juice out of Hercules...fast? PANTUCCI For juice, I gotta rebuild. That's not fast. TRILLIAN How about noise? Can you get noise? We don't need speed, just noise, right? FINNEGAN Right... PANTUCCI Can somebody tell me what the object of the exercise is here? FINNEGAN Seafood salad. (to Trillian) You ever operate a jet ski? TRILLIAN (nervous) You want ME to go up there? FINNEGAN Not unless you can wire a missile or fix an engine. TRILLIAN And what if I run into one of those things? Finnegan tosses her a pulse rifle from the overturned crate. FINNEGAN Don't forget the safety. She hits the safety, slams a shell into chamber... TRILLIAN Don't take too long...I'm not planning on being on the menu tonight. ...and exits. PANTUCCI (razzing) I've never seen you so congenial with a member of the opposite sex... The two of you got a nice patter going...got a nice rapport... FINNEGAN And you got 10 minutes before this thing livens up a boring evening. Finnegan attaches a wire to a sprocket. A red light starts to blink on the warhead. CUT TO: 131 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 131 It is VERY DARK. The RAIN is getting worse. THUNDER RUMBLES. LIGHTNING FLASHES. The FUJI MARU MOANS and CREAKS. BUBBLES EXPLODE from beneath it. The Saipan rocks against her hull. Trillian clambers along the TILTING RAILING, heading for the watersports platform. Her gorgeous eyes shift nervously. TRILLIAN I'm going to be OK...I'm going to be OK... The ship's METAL HULL SCREECHES. The SEAWATER BUBBLES and GURGLES. From somewhere deep inside the ship, we HEAR that loud primordial YOWL again. Trillian freezes, her heart double beats. She looks around, really scared. CUT TO: 132 SAIPAN'S HOLD - NIGHT 132 The missile is on a hoist being pushed forward by Pantucci and Finnegan toward a GAPING HOLE in the PORT BOW. PANTUCCI You know what I think? I think our luck has just about run shit out... FINNEGAN A little to the left... PANTUCCI I think we gotta stop floating from one fucked up situation to the next... FINNEGAN Line it up now, nice and easy... The missile head is right in line with the hole in the bow. PANTUCCI I'm telling you, man, we got to give the future some serious thought. FINNEGAN I have been. PANTUCCI And what have you come up with? FINNEGAN How does an island sound to you? Pantucci looks at Finnegan quizically. This is news to him. CUT TO: 133 SAIPAN - NIGHT 133 The TIP of the WARHEAD creeps out through the hole. The body of the missile is just a hair too wide, which is good, because it jams itself nice and tight into the hole. CUT TO: 134 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 134 Trillian takes the tarp off the remaining jet ski. Pushes the swivel arm that holds it out over the railing. The PLATFORM TILTS! Trillian loses her balance. Almost goes over the

splits

How many times the word 'splits' appears in the text?

FIRE and BUBBLES. Trillian looks around. Scared shitless. The bubbles clear just in time for her to see -- Chin, mouth open, eyes wide, screaming in agony, being ripped past her. She tries to fire her rifle. Too late. Trillian watches as Chin VANISHES down the shaft in a CLOUD OF BUBBLES. CUT TO: 100 KITCHEN - NIGHT 100 TRILLIAN BURSTS to the surface. FINNEGAN YANKS her up and out of the water. FINNEGAN You O.K.? Trillian can only nod, and gasp for breath. Canton and Hanover catch their breath, PANTING AWAY, waterlogged. Hanover reaches over to retrieve the rifle in Trillian's hand. Trillian points the barrel at him, and hits the safety. TRILLIAN (grim) Finders keepers. Mamooli bursts out of the water, falling on the floor, close to panic mode. MAMOOLI Where's Chin? TRILLIAN Gone... MAMOOLI This is not real! This is not bloody real! Finnegan TOPPLES a large, heavy metal BROILER onto the open floor gate, sealing the watery hole in the floor. There are two hatches in this room. The far hatch is closed. Mamooli stands next to an OPEN HATCH. Canton points to it. CANTON Through there...another sixty, seventy yards...there are more elevators there. PANTUCCI I ain't goin' up no more elevators. CANTON There's stairways... Mamooli SLAMS the HATCH SHUT. Eyes bugging out of his head. MAMOOLI I say we stay right here! PANTUCCI Are you crazy? MAMOOLI (desperate) There's plenty of food here. We can hold out...someone'll rescue us... FINNEGAN Who? MAMOOLI Someone...maybe they sent an SOS! PANTUCCI On what? This son of a bitch (to Canton) zapped the communications. HANOVER Mamooli stand down! MAMOOLI We don't even know if his boat is still there...you saw Billy! FINNEGAN Boat or no boat...I'm going... Finnegan steps forward. Mamooli aims his rifle right at Finnegan's head. MAMOOLI They're wipin' us out one at a time. I say we make a stand. Right here! Right now! Maximum firepower! PANTUCCI Somebody shoot this jerk! FINNEGAN (calm) Nobody's shooting nobody...come on, just let us through the hatch! MAMOOLI I'll kill you!! I'll fucking kill you!! I'll do it! I'll do it! I'm not playin' around here! Finnegan freezes. CLOSE ON: The hatch. As a BLACK LIQUID starts to OOZE through a tiny latch-hole. No one sees it. FINNEGAN I once saw a guy put a fish in a bottle, then he corked it, sealing it tight, and threw it to a baby octopus. The little sucker felt its way around that bottle, and in less than two minutes, got that cork off, slid inside, and ate that fish. MAMOOLI What the hell are you talking about? FINNEGAN Us...I'm talking about us... We're the fish. The LIQUID SHADOW OOZES down and hits the floor, starts to EXPAND, filling like a water balloon. It's not a liquid. It's a Tentacle. VEINS, FEELERS and SUCKERS begin to form. MAMOOLI And what? These things are octopuses FINNEGAN I don't know what these things are ...all I know is... The TENTACLE slowly RISES UP right behind Mamooli. Inches behind his head. Finnegan and Hanover see it. Eyes widening. MAMOOLI What...? What?? Mamooli turns to the tentacle looming over him, about to strike. MAMOOLI (CONT'D) EEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH!!!! He opens fire, emptying his clip into the tentacle. The tentacle retreats into the pipes. Mamooli looks around. The room is empty. He runs out. CUT TO: 101 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 101 Mamooli rushes into the empty passageway, looks left. Then right. His POV. Down the hall another TENTACLE comes racing at him. Mamooli panics, drops his rifle. TRACK WITH Mamooli racing down the hallway, looking over his shoulder in fear, as the tentacle comes racing after him...gaining...gaining... almost on him... Mamooli leaps through an open hatch, and swings it shut in one swift motion. The tentacle slams into the glass portal. Stopped. Mamooli keeps his eye on the portal, and backs up two steps. He lets out a long deep breath of relief, turns... WHAM!!! Another tentacle envelops his face! MAMOOLI EEEYYYAAAHHHH!!!!! CUT TO: 102 MECHANICAL CHAMBER - NIGHT 102 Dante's Inferno: STEAM, SMOKE, FIRE, STRANGE NOISES, DARK AREAS, and lots of MOVING ENGINE PARTS. Finnegan leads, followed by Trillian, Hanover, Pantucci, and Canton. We can HEAR their HEARTS BEATING. Scary shit. Finnegan heads for a open HATCH. It suddenly SLAMS SHUT. He instantly VEERS down another passageway. PANTUCCI What the hell is going on!! Finnegan heads for another open HATCHWAY. It also SLAMS SHUT. FINNEGAN They're herding us. Finnegan and company keep going. HANOVER What are you talking about? As they round a corner, the CEILING IMPLODES right in front of them. PIPES and OTHER MATTER CRASH down. Cutting them off. Leaving only one route open...a slim passageway. FINNEGAN Like cattle... TRILLIAN You're saying they can think? FINNEGAN I'm saying they're calling the shots... Finnegan heads toward the passageway. CANTON Do we have to go there? The ceiling left above them begins to torque, and splits. The answer is plain. Everyone runs into the passage just as the ceiling comes down. CUT TO: 103 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 103 Finnegan leads them single-file, they quickly head into a SHAKING narrow void. Fear has led to silence, and unbearable tension. The walls on either side creak, and moan with strange noises. CUT TO: 104 MID-HULL - NIGHT 104 Finnegan quickly comes out of the CREAKING, MOANING GANGWAY, followed by the others. All the STRANGE NOISES suddenly STOP. Everything gets quiet. Finnegan freezes. Something's wrong. Everybody looks around. STEAM SHOOTS OUT from multiple pipes. The air is thick with MIST. TRILLIAN What's the matter? FINNEGAN The quiet... HANOVER Maybe we lost them. FINNEGAN Or maybe we're exactly where they want us to be. Finnegan moves on. The others follow. Guns out front. TENSE. They round a huge metal pillar and come face-to-face with a soul-wrenching nightmare. The CREATURES' NEST -- OR STOMACH. Across a small portion of the ship's midsection, is a huge GELATINOUS WOMB. Imagine a massive thick wall of clear-yellow JELL-O, with hundreds of BLUE VEINS running through it. If it weren't all so horrific, it would be considered beautiful. Inside the womb, A DOZEN HUMANS, passengers, float around in some kind of twisted embryonic state, the living dead. They all seem to be breathing the gelatin. Several TENTACLES WRIGGLE through the stuff; which divides and re forms in some sort of strange mitosis. Finnegan and the others look at the passengers, horrified. But even more horrifying is that the people can look back at them. Many start to reach out, seemingly in slow motion as their hands ooze through the thick gelatin. Trillian looks sick, trembles in fear. TRILLIAN What is it? FINNEGAN A meat locker. TRILLIAN We can't just leave them here. Canton looks like he's about to throw up, he starts backing away, heading for a side hatch. CANTON I can. In the womb, a Tentacle suddenly approaches a sexy young LADY. The Lady tries to back-pedal away, but because of the gelatin, it's like one of those nightmares where you can only move in slow motion. The FEELERS GRIP her naked thigh. She tries to scream, but her face is already starting to constrict, her whole body is being paralyzed. Pantucci is so horrified he's about to cry. PANTUCCI Oh no...oh God please no. The TENTACLE-SAC gloms onto the Lady's forehead. THROUGH THE SAC we can SEE her SKIN MELTING. The only thing she can move are her EYES, which are bugging-out in absolute horror as she is imbibed alive. Our heroes are frozen in fear. Until the Lady's EYES LIQUEFY. Trillian burries her head in Finnegan's shoulder, trying to shut out the horror. FINNEGAN We can't do anything for them... Let's go... He begins to lead her toward the hatch...when her eyes recognized the old lady with the orchid in her hair. The old lady seems to see her too. Her hands read out, IMPLORING. Her mouth silently shapes the words: HELP ME! Just as a tentacle comes creeping toward her. TRILLIAN NOOO!! Her rage rises. She hefts her rifle, and starts blasting away. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) You won't get her!! You won't!! Spitting FLAMES and SMOKE. The BULLETS IMPACT the gelatin. BLASTING IT AWAY. But the bullets only manage to go about twenty feet into the thick shit before gliding to a stop. GELATIN EXPLODES all over the place. TRACER HOLES STREAK through the stuff. But all the bullets are sliding short. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) Finnegan...do something!! Please!! Finnegan looks around and spots the place in the ceiling where most of the Tentacles are coming from. Their long TAILS WIGGLE down from a massive clutter of pipes. A bas-relief of horror. Finnegan reaches over and yanks two thermite grenades off Hanover's utility belt. HANOVER Finnegan, No!!! ...bites the pins and spits them out. FINNEGAN Eat this. He chucks the grenades up into the strange WRITHING FRESCO, safely clear of the passengers. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) FIRE IN THE HOLE! Pantucci and Hanover throw themselves to the floor. Finnegan pulls Trillian down, covering her. BA-WOOM! GELATIN SPRAYS EVERYWHERE. CUT TO: 105 FUJI MARU - SAME TIME 105 A loud, creepy, suction-like SOUND is HEARD, that strange pitter- patter of little feet running across the hull. Then the HULL begins to MOAN and CREAK from an UNSEEN PRESSURE. CUT TO: 106 MID HULL - NIGHT 106 All the MOVEMENT STOPS. The remaining TENTACLES VANISH into the machinery. Pantucci, and Hanover look up from the floor, covered in slime. Finnegan and Trillian also look up...and then look at each other face to face...inches apart. Dripping with slime. FINNEGAN Looking good... TRILLIAN You should talk... Then the machinery shuts down. The engines go dead. ALL SOUND CUTS OUT. An expectant hush. Somewhere, WATER DRIPS... WE GO EXTREMELY CLOSE ON Trillian's EYES. Pantucci's EYES. Hanover's EYES. Finnegan's EYES. The air is riddled with ominous expectation. And that's when the HULL BEGINS TO TORQUE. RIVETS POP and SNAP. WATER SPRAYS. METAL BUCKLES. 107 SHOT: 107 At the far end of the ship, part of the LOWER BOW RIPS OPEN! AND A WALL OF WATER RUSHES IN. FLOOD CITY! Finnegan's eyes widen as he sees (MODEL SHOT) the massive WAVE OF WATER CRASHING TOWARDS THEM. RIPPING OUT PIPES, DUCTS, WALLS, EQUIPMENT and EVERYTHING in front of it. FINNEGAN GO! GO! GO! They all hightail it for hatches. Finnegan and Trillian make it into one hatch. Hanover and Pantucci make it into another. WATER CRASHES and SPRAYS behind them. CUT TO: 108 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 108 Massive AIR BUBBLES EXPLODE out from under the bow. CUT TO: 109 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 109 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH up and down every passageway. And a CLAXTON RINGS, in accelerating tones, giving a frenetic urgency to ALL OF THE FOLLOWING SCENES: 110 A PASSAGEWAY: 110 WATER BLASTS through a hatch and CHASES Finnegan and Trillian down a passageway. They jag left at an intersection -- WATER BLASTS through the hatch directly in front of them. FINNEGAN We're going to sink! We've got to get on deck! They backtrack. Trillian's now in the lead. They HAUL ASS down a hallway. WATER ROARING IN from everywhere behind them. All of the watertight HATCHES begin to hydraulically CLOSE. Trillian and Finnegan JAG into a hatch. It's a small room. The hatch in front of them closes. WATER BLASTS in behind them. SWEEPS them off their feet. The ROOM quickly starts to FILL UP. Trillian pulls frantically at the hatch. CUT TO: 111 NARROW PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 111 Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through knee-high water. Pantucci stumbles into the water, frantically scrambles up. He looks back -- UNDER THE WATER, INKY FORMS hurl themselves down the passageway right towards him. Pantucci YELPS, and splashes away. CUT TO: 112 SUBMERGING ROOM - NIGHT 112 Trillian and Finnegan pull with all their might on a tiny portal. Finnegan tries to insert the blade of his knife in the crack. TRILLIAN So how do you get from the Bronx to the South China sea? FINNEGAN You quit high school, lie about your age, join the navy, and next thing you know, four years are up and you need a way to make a living... The knife blade slips into the crack. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) I'll break the seal! Pull. He yanks the blade. Trillian pulls. The seal pops. The portal flies open. Waist-high in water, Trillian sticks her arm out, tries to get her shoulder out, but there's no chance in hell of that. TRILLIAN Too small! She pulls her arm out. And a TENTACLE LUNGES IN. Just missing Trillian. It SPLASHES under the water. GRABS Finnegan's ankle. Pulls him under. FINNEGAN sticks the barrel of his gun underwater and OPENS FIRE. WATER EXPLODES. The Tentacle recoils. And rips itself back out the porthole. Trillian SLAMS the PORTHOLE SHUT and dogs it tight. The WATER QUICKLY RISES. CUT TO: 113 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 113 Pantucci and Hanover hauling ass. Hanover pulls out his last two Thermite grenades. Pantucci panics and grabs for them. PANTUCCI Gimme one! Gimme one! He knocks both of them out of Hanover's hands. They DISAPPEAR under the water. HANOVER You idiot! They quickly fumble around in the water, trying to find them. A TENTACLE BLASTS around the corner. Partially obscured by the wave in front of it. Heading right for them. Hanover finds the two grenades. Gives one to Pantucci. They rip the pins out and toss the grenades behind them. Then HAUL ASS faster. The Tentacle right behind them. A BEAT. And then the GRENADES EXPLODE, BA-WOOM! BA-WOOM! CUT TO: 114 FUJI MARY - NIGHT 114 The storm hammers the deck. Canton staggers out onto the RAIN SLICKED DECK just in time to see -- A HOLE BEING BLOWN OUT the side of the Fuji Maru's HULL. BUBBLES continue to EXPLODE OUT from under the bow. CANTON Oh my God, it's going to sink. Then slowly, Canton gets a gleam in his eye, now thrilled. CANTON (CONT'D) It's going to sink. CUT TO: 115 SUBMERGED ROOM - NIGHT 115 Finnegan and Trillian are getting banged around the frothy WATER as it quickly RISES. Now only inches from the ceiling. Trapped. They're about to drown. Finnegan keeps looking around, trying to figure a way out. TRILLIAN I was so goddamn close, Finnegan! So goddamn close to my island... I could almost taste the sand... FINNEGAN Keep tasting... Finnegan shoves the pulse rifle to the ceiling. And blasts away until part of the ceiling falls out and into the water. There's just enough room between two metal beams to get out. The rising WATER SHOVES them up through the hole. CUT TO: 116 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 116 Side-by-side, Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through waist-high water. They round a corner and look back -- INKY FORMS SLOSH around the corner. Heading right for them. They slog faster. PANTUCCI They're catchin' up! They're catchin' up! We gotta slow 'em down! HANOVER Feed them. That'll slow them down. A black STRIATED MUSCLE ROILS out of the foamy water, then quickly VANISHES under it, heading straight for them. PANTUCCI Feed 'em?!! Okay! All right! Feed 'em what? WHAT ARE WE GONNA FEED 'EM?! Hanover takes his pistol and SHOOTS Pantucci in the leg, BLAM! Pantucci SCREAMS. FALLS into the water. Hanover RUNS on. Pantucci doesn't even have time to deal with the pain. He starts SCRAMBLING through the water. UNDERWATER, the INKY FORMS RACE AFTER HIM. Only meters away. Pantucci throws himself into the opening of a dumbwaiter. SLAMS the DOOR SHUT. The TENTACLE ATTACKS the door. WORMING its way across the surface, trying to find a way inside. Pantucci is scared beyond his pain. Pushing back as far as he can against the rear wall, he sees the control button. He presses the up arrow. The dumbwaiter starts to move. CUT TO: 117 FUJI MARU REAR DECK - DAY 117 The Saipan is still bobbing behind the Fuji Maru. But the HARPOON HOOK, which holds the tow-line and is embedded into the rear deck of the ship, is starting to PRY LOOSE. It JERKS and BUCKS against the metal wall. Canton doesn't notice this as he slips and slides his way up to the railing. He sees the Saipan and smiles. Then he looks off at -- 118 ISLAND 118 rising out of the ocean. About a mile away. Canton starts to climb over the railing. And that's when the HARPOON HOOK RIPS FREE. WHIZZES FORWARD. And IMPALES Canton's LEG. He SCREAMS. Tries to spin free. The hook hangs onto his leg for a long, agonizing BEAT as Canton continues to SCREAM. Then the HOOK RIPS FREE, grabs the METAL RAILING and starts TEARING IT off the deck. Canton drops to the deck, holding his leg and whimpering in pain. And then he sees it -- 119 SPEEDBOAT 119 dangling from its harness down on the watersports platform. 120 TO SCENE 120 Canton starts to crawl for it. Moaning and bleeding. CUT TO: 121 CRYSTAL POOL DECK - NIGHT 121 Finnegan and Trillian race up onto the pool deck. Passing beneath a colorful NEON SIGN which READS: "THE FUJI MARU - YOUR FUN SHIP" In the dark, Trillian trips. She falls to the slippery, waterlogged deck, and SCREAMS... TRILLIAN EEEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH! ...clawing at her face... Finnegan pulls her hands from her face...and the thing that attached itself there...a small squid from the shattered aquarium. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) (freaked) Ah...ah...ah... Tries to catch her breath. FINNEGAN It's OK...it's not one of them... it's from the aquarium...it's... And then it dawns on Finnegan. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's not them...it's it... TRILLIAN What? FINNEGAN You know what kind of force it took to rip open the bow of this ship? A million little things like this... He holds up the squid. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...can't exert that kind of pressure... And the way it tracked us? A million little things don't carry portable phones to coordinate positions... What's chasing us... it's one...thing...one giant... thing. SMASH CUT TO: 122 ARIAL POV - MATTE FX SHOT - NIGHT 122 ...looking down on the Fuji Maru from high up in the air. Beneath the ENTIRE SHIP is an enormous, undulating BLACK SHADOW. A massive monster from the deep. CUT TO: 123 CASINO - NIGHT 123 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH. The CLAXTON RINGS. Off to one side of a wall, behind the bar, the dumbwaiter door opens, and Pantucci tumbles out, looks around, and then hears... HANOVER (V.O.) Help!! Help!! Pantucci limps around the bar, down a row of one armed bandits... rounds a corner, comes face-to-face with Hanover. Hanover's eyes are filled with terror and despair. His face is badly constricted. His body paralyzed. He clings to a black-jack table as a Tentacle-Sac drinks its way up his leg. It's already to his hip. He grasps desperately for his pistol, just beyond his reach on the floor. This guy ain't gonna survive. PANTUCCI YELPS and quickly back away, eyes wide, totally tense. He looks around, sees that there's only one Tentacle, and it's completely occupied with devouring Hanover. Pantucci is wigged, but manages to lock eyes with Hanover. Then he looks at the Sac, filled with regurgitated flesh. PANTUCCI ...even you don't deserve this. Pantucci picks up Hanover's pistol. Then slowly, cautiously, he creeps forward, and sticks the gun into Hanover's TWITCHING HAND. PANTUCCI (CONT'D) I'm sorry man... He turns and quickly limps off. Hanover's EYES look down at the gun in his hand. Then, with all the strength he has left, he slowly, painfully, turns the pistol so it points at his head. CLOSE ON: Hanover's trembling FINGER. As it slowly squeezes the trigger. He want to kill himself. Needs to hill himself. He squeezes harder. The TRIGGER DEPRESSES! -- CLICK! The gun is empty. Hanover's mouth opens in a horrible, silent scream. CUT TO: 124 REAR DECK - SAME TIME 124 Finnegan and Trillian race out onto the rear deck just as the HARPOON HOOK finishes TEARING the railing off the ship. The HOOK, the TOW- LINE, and the ENTIRE RAILING DROP over the side and fall OUT OF SIGHT. The TWO BOATS are now UNCOUPLED. Finnegan reels at the rain soaked sky. FINNEGAN Will somebody give me a break here? And that's when Finnegan and Trillian hear the SOUND of a HYDRAULIC HOIST. They look over -- 125 AT THE WATERSPORTS PLATFORM: 125 The speedboat is being hydraulically lowered into the water. Canton sits inside, fiddling with the ignition. ANGLE ON: Trillian and Finnegan racing down the spiral stairs leading to the watersports platform. TRILLIAN Wait! Stop! The boat touches down into the water. CANTON I'd like to but I have an appointment with my insurance broker! He HITS the HOIST-RELEASE BUTTON. The speedboat breaks free. Canton HITS the IGNITION. The boat's ENGINE ROARS. CANTON (CONT'D) Life takes the damndest turns, doesn't it? He red-lines the THROTTLE. The SPEEDBOAT HAULS ASS away from the cruiseliner. Canton steers for the island. Smiling. ANGLE ON: Trillian IN HER RAGE... TRILLIAN You son of a bitch!! She grabs Finnegan's pulse rifle, hefts it to her shoulder... FINNEGAN Look! He forces her to look in the distance. Their POV. The island. TRILLIAN Oh my god! Oh my god! How do we do it? How do we get there? FINNEGAN Not like him. Finnegan points to the water...and an INKY PSEUDOPOD FORM racing after the speedboat underwater. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's the engine...it can hear the engine...it goes for the loudest sound... The Tentacle quickly picks up speed, going faster and faster, getting closer and closer, stretching further and further. Suddenly, behind them, a METALLIC THRASHING SOUND is HEARD. They turn around and look -- The hook, the tow-line, and the entire railing have dropped down onto the watersports platform and are tangled up around the two jet skis, trying to tear free -- The Saipan is still clinging by its fingernails to the Fuji Maru! Finnegan races over to a WINCH and grabs the winch- line. CUT TO: 126 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 126 Canton, smiling brightly, peers at the approaching island through the speedboat's windscreen. So relieved he sings to himself, from the operetta H.M.S. PINAFORE. CANTON Oh we sail the ocean blue, and our mighty ship's a beauty. We are strong men, yes it's true, and responsive to our duty... When...YANK!!...the SPEEDBOAT is GRABBED from below, practically exploding as it DISINTEGRATES into TWO PIECES. Canton is PROPELLED through the windscreen and onto the hood. CUT TO: 127 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 127 Finnegan struggles to clip the winch-line onto the tow-line, hanging precariously over the edge of the ship, clip in one hand, winch-line in the other. The whole METAL MESS is BUCKING and TWISTING and SCREECHING. His every joint is being ripped out of socket as he strains to get the clip on the line before the entire rig tears away into the sea. With one last heroic effort of will and grit, he snaps the clip in place just as it all BREAKS LOOSE. One of the JET SKIS and the ENTIRE RAILING are RIPPED over the side and fall down into the ocean. Finnegan is also YANKED over the side, but he manages to hold on by his fingers, dangling precariously. FINNEGAN Hit it! Hit it! The HOOK and the TOW-LINE drop -- then SNAP TAUGHT as the winch-line holds them tight. Trillian throws the start lever on the winch. The WINCH KICKS ON and starts reeling in the Saipan. Finnegan tries to crawl up on the deck, exhausted. Trillian reaches down and pulls him the rest of the way up. He half collapses on top of her. TRILLIAN You know, Finnegan, I'm starting to believe what you said about you not being born to die on a luxury liner. Despite the grimness of their position, the closeness of their bodies is...a turn on...to both of them...and then a SCREAM from the sea. They look in the direction of... CUT TO: 128 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 128 Canton is pinned to the hood of the speedboat, his face shredded by glass, his leg mangled, screaming as his panicked eyes watch a TENTACLE slowly squirm across the hood toward him, it's hideous feelers writhe and arch. Canton backs away from it as far as he can. Another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up next to him. Canton crawls away from that one. Its Feelers and Suckers unsheathe, dripping mucus. Canton's eyes widen, horrified. Then another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up. Canton crawls to the center of the hood. And another TENTACLE. Canton has nowhere to go. The Tentacles close in on him. CANTON No! No! No! All the tentacles rise over him, about to descend. CANTON (CONT'D) NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! CUT TO: 129 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 129 Finnegan and Trillian race for all they are worth, clamber over the side of the Fuji Maru, dropping to the deck of the Saipan. CUT TO: 130 SAIPAN - NIGHT 130 Finnegan and Trillian slowly clamber through the hold, waist deep in water, on edge, eyes wide, watching for any sign of trouble. It's quiet in here. Maybe too quiet. TRILLIAN (quietly) Finnegan... FINNEGAN Yeah... TRILLIAN ...the minute you start your engines ...it's going to kill us, isn't it? They step up to one of the big CRATES. Finnegan starts SMASHING it with the butt of his pulse-rifle. The CRATE BURST OPEN. REVEALING the WARHEAD of the torpedo. Trillian is stunned. FINNEGAN Not unless we kill it first. Finnegan SMASHES more of the CRATE, it falls apart, REVEALING the entire torpedo. He hands her his pulse rifle. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) Anything moves, you shoot. Finnegan starts to yank open the top plates of the missile head. Trillian looks around nervously. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) There's not much horsepower left in the engines, but there's enough noise...once this baby's set...I'll rev it up...that slimy bastard will come for it like candy... TRILLIAN If you blow up your boat, how are we going to get to the island? FINNEGAN Jet ski...there's one left up there. The plate comes loose. Revealing a gaggle of wires, and parts. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...let's see, it was red wire cross compressor blue wire...or blue cross red? He starts to fiddle with the wires. -- Suddenly, there's a LOUD SLOSHING SOUND right behind them! CRATES TOPPLE! More pulse rifles spill out. Trillian spins, ready to blast away with the pulse rifle, to... PANTUCCI Don't shoot!! Don't shoot!! FINNEGAN Just the man I wanted to see. On this puppy here, you remember if it's red to blue or blue to red... He refers to the wires. PANTUCCI Not even a Joey, I'm glad to see you? Joey, what happened to your leg? FINNEGAN Joey, you want to get sucked out by a giant fucking mutated squid? PANTUCCI (fast) Red cross over to blue double blue ...is that what it is? A squid? FINNEGAN Squid...squid like...squid type... it's got tentacles, a feed sac... probably one central nervous processor somewhere...what the hell do I know is going on deep down in the ocean...there's all sorts of shit we've never seen...eighty foot clams...60 foot sharks...I'm just guessing...can you get me more juice out of Hercules...fast? PANTUCCI For juice, I gotta rebuild. That's not fast. TRILLIAN How about noise? Can you get noise? We don't need speed, just noise, right? FINNEGAN Right... PANTUCCI Can somebody tell me what the object of the exercise is here? FINNEGAN Seafood salad. (to Trillian) You ever operate a jet ski? TRILLIAN (nervous) You want ME to go up there? FINNEGAN Not unless you can wire a missile or fix an engine. TRILLIAN And what if I run into one of those things? Finnegan tosses her a pulse rifle from the overturned crate. FINNEGAN Don't forget the safety. She hits the safety, slams a shell into chamber... TRILLIAN Don't take too long...I'm not planning on being on the menu tonight. ...and exits. PANTUCCI (razzing) I've never seen you so congenial with a member of the opposite sex... The two of you got a nice patter going...got a nice rapport... FINNEGAN And you got 10 minutes before this thing livens up a boring evening. Finnegan attaches a wire to a sprocket. A red light starts to blink on the warhead. CUT TO: 131 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 131 It is VERY DARK. The RAIN is getting worse. THUNDER RUMBLES. LIGHTNING FLASHES. The FUJI MARU MOANS and CREAKS. BUBBLES EXPLODE from beneath it. The Saipan rocks against her hull. Trillian clambers along the TILTING RAILING, heading for the watersports platform. Her gorgeous eyes shift nervously. TRILLIAN I'm going to be OK...I'm going to be OK... The ship's METAL HULL SCREECHES. The SEAWATER BUBBLES and GURGLES. From somewhere deep inside the ship, we HEAR that loud primordial YOWL again. Trillian freezes, her heart double beats. She looks around, really scared. CUT TO: 132 SAIPAN'S HOLD - NIGHT 132 The missile is on a hoist being pushed forward by Pantucci and Finnegan toward a GAPING HOLE in the PORT BOW. PANTUCCI You know what I think? I think our luck has just about run shit out... FINNEGAN A little to the left... PANTUCCI I think we gotta stop floating from one fucked up situation to the next... FINNEGAN Line it up now, nice and easy... The missile head is right in line with the hole in the bow. PANTUCCI I'm telling you, man, we got to give the future some serious thought. FINNEGAN I have been. PANTUCCI And what have you come up with? FINNEGAN How does an island sound to you? Pantucci looks at Finnegan quizically. This is news to him. CUT TO: 133 SAIPAN - NIGHT 133 The TIP of the WARHEAD creeps out through the hole. The body of the missile is just a hair too wide, which is good, because it jams itself nice and tight into the hole. CUT TO: 134 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 134 Trillian takes the tarp off the remaining jet ski. Pushes the swivel arm that holds it out over the railing. The PLATFORM TILTS! Trillian loses her balance. Almost goes over the

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FIRE and BUBBLES. Trillian looks around. Scared shitless. The bubbles clear just in time for her to see -- Chin, mouth open, eyes wide, screaming in agony, being ripped past her. She tries to fire her rifle. Too late. Trillian watches as Chin VANISHES down the shaft in a CLOUD OF BUBBLES. CUT TO: 100 KITCHEN - NIGHT 100 TRILLIAN BURSTS to the surface. FINNEGAN YANKS her up and out of the water. FINNEGAN You O.K.? Trillian can only nod, and gasp for breath. Canton and Hanover catch their breath, PANTING AWAY, waterlogged. Hanover reaches over to retrieve the rifle in Trillian's hand. Trillian points the barrel at him, and hits the safety. TRILLIAN (grim) Finders keepers. Mamooli bursts out of the water, falling on the floor, close to panic mode. MAMOOLI Where's Chin? TRILLIAN Gone... MAMOOLI This is not real! This is not bloody real! Finnegan TOPPLES a large, heavy metal BROILER onto the open floor gate, sealing the watery hole in the floor. There are two hatches in this room. The far hatch is closed. Mamooli stands next to an OPEN HATCH. Canton points to it. CANTON Through there...another sixty, seventy yards...there are more elevators there. PANTUCCI I ain't goin' up no more elevators. CANTON There's stairways... Mamooli SLAMS the HATCH SHUT. Eyes bugging out of his head. MAMOOLI I say we stay right here! PANTUCCI Are you crazy? MAMOOLI (desperate) There's plenty of food here. We can hold out...someone'll rescue us... FINNEGAN Who? MAMOOLI Someone...maybe they sent an SOS! PANTUCCI On what? This son of a bitch (to Canton) zapped the communications. HANOVER Mamooli stand down! MAMOOLI We don't even know if his boat is still there...you saw Billy! FINNEGAN Boat or no boat...I'm going... Finnegan steps forward. Mamooli aims his rifle right at Finnegan's head. MAMOOLI They're wipin' us out one at a time. I say we make a stand. Right here! Right now! Maximum firepower! PANTUCCI Somebody shoot this jerk! FINNEGAN (calm) Nobody's shooting nobody...come on, just let us through the hatch! MAMOOLI I'll kill you!! I'll fucking kill you!! I'll do it! I'll do it! I'm not playin' around here! Finnegan freezes. CLOSE ON: The hatch. As a BLACK LIQUID starts to OOZE through a tiny latch-hole. No one sees it. FINNEGAN I once saw a guy put a fish in a bottle, then he corked it, sealing it tight, and threw it to a baby octopus. The little sucker felt its way around that bottle, and in less than two minutes, got that cork off, slid inside, and ate that fish. MAMOOLI What the hell are you talking about? FINNEGAN Us...I'm talking about us... We're the fish. The LIQUID SHADOW OOZES down and hits the floor, starts to EXPAND, filling like a water balloon. It's not a liquid. It's a Tentacle. VEINS, FEELERS and SUCKERS begin to form. MAMOOLI And what? These things are octopuses FINNEGAN I don't know what these things are ...all I know is... The TENTACLE slowly RISES UP right behind Mamooli. Inches behind his head. Finnegan and Hanover see it. Eyes widening. MAMOOLI What...? What?? Mamooli turns to the tentacle looming over him, about to strike. MAMOOLI (CONT'D) EEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH!!!! He opens fire, emptying his clip into the tentacle. The tentacle retreats into the pipes. Mamooli looks around. The room is empty. He runs out. CUT TO: 101 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 101 Mamooli rushes into the empty passageway, looks left. Then right. His POV. Down the hall another TENTACLE comes racing at him. Mamooli panics, drops his rifle. TRACK WITH Mamooli racing down the hallway, looking over his shoulder in fear, as the tentacle comes racing after him...gaining...gaining... almost on him... Mamooli leaps through an open hatch, and swings it shut in one swift motion. The tentacle slams into the glass portal. Stopped. Mamooli keeps his eye on the portal, and backs up two steps. He lets out a long deep breath of relief, turns... WHAM!!! Another tentacle envelops his face! MAMOOLI EEEYYYAAAHHHH!!!!! CUT TO: 102 MECHANICAL CHAMBER - NIGHT 102 Dante's Inferno: STEAM, SMOKE, FIRE, STRANGE NOISES, DARK AREAS, and lots of MOVING ENGINE PARTS. Finnegan leads, followed by Trillian, Hanover, Pantucci, and Canton. We can HEAR their HEARTS BEATING. Scary shit. Finnegan heads for a open HATCH. It suddenly SLAMS SHUT. He instantly VEERS down another passageway. PANTUCCI What the hell is going on!! Finnegan heads for another open HATCHWAY. It also SLAMS SHUT. FINNEGAN They're herding us. Finnegan and company keep going. HANOVER What are you talking about? As they round a corner, the CEILING IMPLODES right in front of them. PIPES and OTHER MATTER CRASH down. Cutting them off. Leaving only one route open...a slim passageway. FINNEGAN Like cattle... TRILLIAN You're saying they can think? FINNEGAN I'm saying they're calling the shots... Finnegan heads toward the passageway. CANTON Do we have to go there? The ceiling left above them begins to torque, and splits. The answer is plain. Everyone runs into the passage just as the ceiling comes down. CUT TO: 103 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 103 Finnegan leads them single-file, they quickly head into a SHAKING narrow void. Fear has led to silence, and unbearable tension. The walls on either side creak, and moan with strange noises. CUT TO: 104 MID-HULL - NIGHT 104 Finnegan quickly comes out of the CREAKING, MOANING GANGWAY, followed by the others. All the STRANGE NOISES suddenly STOP. Everything gets quiet. Finnegan freezes. Something's wrong. Everybody looks around. STEAM SHOOTS OUT from multiple pipes. The air is thick with MIST. TRILLIAN What's the matter? FINNEGAN The quiet... HANOVER Maybe we lost them. FINNEGAN Or maybe we're exactly where they want us to be. Finnegan moves on. The others follow. Guns out front. TENSE. They round a huge metal pillar and come face-to-face with a soul-wrenching nightmare. The CREATURES' NEST -- OR STOMACH. Across a small portion of the ship's midsection, is a huge GELATINOUS WOMB. Imagine a massive thick wall of clear-yellow JELL-O, with hundreds of BLUE VEINS running through it. If it weren't all so horrific, it would be considered beautiful. Inside the womb, A DOZEN HUMANS, passengers, float around in some kind of twisted embryonic state, the living dead. They all seem to be breathing the gelatin. Several TENTACLES WRIGGLE through the stuff; which divides and re forms in some sort of strange mitosis. Finnegan and the others look at the passengers, horrified. But even more horrifying is that the people can look back at them. Many start to reach out, seemingly in slow motion as their hands ooze through the thick gelatin. Trillian looks sick, trembles in fear. TRILLIAN What is it? FINNEGAN A meat locker. TRILLIAN We can't just leave them here. Canton looks like he's about to throw up, he starts backing away, heading for a side hatch. CANTON I can. In the womb, a Tentacle suddenly approaches a sexy young LADY. The Lady tries to back-pedal away, but because of the gelatin, it's like one of those nightmares where you can only move in slow motion. The FEELERS GRIP her naked thigh. She tries to scream, but her face is already starting to constrict, her whole body is being paralyzed. Pantucci is so horrified he's about to cry. PANTUCCI Oh no...oh God please no. The TENTACLE-SAC gloms onto the Lady's forehead. THROUGH THE SAC we can SEE her SKIN MELTING. The only thing she can move are her EYES, which are bugging-out in absolute horror as she is imbibed alive. Our heroes are frozen in fear. Until the Lady's EYES LIQUEFY. Trillian burries her head in Finnegan's shoulder, trying to shut out the horror. FINNEGAN We can't do anything for them... Let's go... He begins to lead her toward the hatch...when her eyes recognized the old lady with the orchid in her hair. The old lady seems to see her too. Her hands read out, IMPLORING. Her mouth silently shapes the words: HELP ME! Just as a tentacle comes creeping toward her. TRILLIAN NOOO!! Her rage rises. She hefts her rifle, and starts blasting away. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) You won't get her!! You won't!! Spitting FLAMES and SMOKE. The BULLETS IMPACT the gelatin. BLASTING IT AWAY. But the bullets only manage to go about twenty feet into the thick shit before gliding to a stop. GELATIN EXPLODES all over the place. TRACER HOLES STREAK through the stuff. But all the bullets are sliding short. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) Finnegan...do something!! Please!! Finnegan looks around and spots the place in the ceiling where most of the Tentacles are coming from. Their long TAILS WIGGLE down from a massive clutter of pipes. A bas-relief of horror. Finnegan reaches over and yanks two thermite grenades off Hanover's utility belt. HANOVER Finnegan, No!!! ...bites the pins and spits them out. FINNEGAN Eat this. He chucks the grenades up into the strange WRITHING FRESCO, safely clear of the passengers. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) FIRE IN THE HOLE! Pantucci and Hanover throw themselves to the floor. Finnegan pulls Trillian down, covering her. BA-WOOM! GELATIN SPRAYS EVERYWHERE. CUT TO: 105 FUJI MARU - SAME TIME 105 A loud, creepy, suction-like SOUND is HEARD, that strange pitter- patter of little feet running across the hull. Then the HULL begins to MOAN and CREAK from an UNSEEN PRESSURE. CUT TO: 106 MID HULL - NIGHT 106 All the MOVEMENT STOPS. The remaining TENTACLES VANISH into the machinery. Pantucci, and Hanover look up from the floor, covered in slime. Finnegan and Trillian also look up...and then look at each other face to face...inches apart. Dripping with slime. FINNEGAN Looking good... TRILLIAN You should talk... Then the machinery shuts down. The engines go dead. ALL SOUND CUTS OUT. An expectant hush. Somewhere, WATER DRIPS... WE GO EXTREMELY CLOSE ON Trillian's EYES. Pantucci's EYES. Hanover's EYES. Finnegan's EYES. The air is riddled with ominous expectation. And that's when the HULL BEGINS TO TORQUE. RIVETS POP and SNAP. WATER SPRAYS. METAL BUCKLES. 107 SHOT: 107 At the far end of the ship, part of the LOWER BOW RIPS OPEN! AND A WALL OF WATER RUSHES IN. FLOOD CITY! Finnegan's eyes widen as he sees (MODEL SHOT) the massive WAVE OF WATER CRASHING TOWARDS THEM. RIPPING OUT PIPES, DUCTS, WALLS, EQUIPMENT and EVERYTHING in front of it. FINNEGAN GO! GO! GO! They all hightail it for hatches. Finnegan and Trillian make it into one hatch. Hanover and Pantucci make it into another. WATER CRASHES and SPRAYS behind them. CUT TO: 108 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 108 Massive AIR BUBBLES EXPLODE out from under the bow. CUT TO: 109 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 109 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH up and down every passageway. And a CLAXTON RINGS, in accelerating tones, giving a frenetic urgency to ALL OF THE FOLLOWING SCENES: 110 A PASSAGEWAY: 110 WATER BLASTS through a hatch and CHASES Finnegan and Trillian down a passageway. They jag left at an intersection -- WATER BLASTS through the hatch directly in front of them. FINNEGAN We're going to sink! We've got to get on deck! They backtrack. Trillian's now in the lead. They HAUL ASS down a hallway. WATER ROARING IN from everywhere behind them. All of the watertight HATCHES begin to hydraulically CLOSE. Trillian and Finnegan JAG into a hatch. It's a small room. The hatch in front of them closes. WATER BLASTS in behind them. SWEEPS them off their feet. The ROOM quickly starts to FILL UP. Trillian pulls frantically at the hatch. CUT TO: 111 NARROW PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 111 Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through knee-high water. Pantucci stumbles into the water, frantically scrambles up. He looks back -- UNDER THE WATER, INKY FORMS hurl themselves down the passageway right towards him. Pantucci YELPS, and splashes away. CUT TO: 112 SUBMERGING ROOM - NIGHT 112 Trillian and Finnegan pull with all their might on a tiny portal. Finnegan tries to insert the blade of his knife in the crack. TRILLIAN So how do you get from the Bronx to the South China sea? FINNEGAN You quit high school, lie about your age, join the navy, and next thing you know, four years are up and you need a way to make a living... The knife blade slips into the crack. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) I'll break the seal! Pull. He yanks the blade. Trillian pulls. The seal pops. The portal flies open. Waist-high in water, Trillian sticks her arm out, tries to get her shoulder out, but there's no chance in hell of that. TRILLIAN Too small! She pulls her arm out. And a TENTACLE LUNGES IN. Just missing Trillian. It SPLASHES under the water. GRABS Finnegan's ankle. Pulls him under. FINNEGAN sticks the barrel of his gun underwater and OPENS FIRE. WATER EXPLODES. The Tentacle recoils. And rips itself back out the porthole. Trillian SLAMS the PORTHOLE SHUT and dogs it tight. The WATER QUICKLY RISES. CUT TO: 113 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 113 Pantucci and Hanover hauling ass. Hanover pulls out his last two Thermite grenades. Pantucci panics and grabs for them. PANTUCCI Gimme one! Gimme one! He knocks both of them out of Hanover's hands. They DISAPPEAR under the water. HANOVER You idiot! They quickly fumble around in the water, trying to find them. A TENTACLE BLASTS around the corner. Partially obscured by the wave in front of it. Heading right for them. Hanover finds the two grenades. Gives one to Pantucci. They rip the pins out and toss the grenades behind them. Then HAUL ASS faster. The Tentacle right behind them. A BEAT. And then the GRENADES EXPLODE, BA-WOOM! BA-WOOM! CUT TO: 114 FUJI MARY - NIGHT 114 The storm hammers the deck. Canton staggers out onto the RAIN SLICKED DECK just in time to see -- A HOLE BEING BLOWN OUT the side of the Fuji Maru's HULL. BUBBLES continue to EXPLODE OUT from under the bow. CANTON Oh my God, it's going to sink. Then slowly, Canton gets a gleam in his eye, now thrilled. CANTON (CONT'D) It's going to sink. CUT TO: 115 SUBMERGED ROOM - NIGHT 115 Finnegan and Trillian are getting banged around the frothy WATER as it quickly RISES. Now only inches from the ceiling. Trapped. They're about to drown. Finnegan keeps looking around, trying to figure a way out. TRILLIAN I was so goddamn close, Finnegan! So goddamn close to my island... I could almost taste the sand... FINNEGAN Keep tasting... Finnegan shoves the pulse rifle to the ceiling. And blasts away until part of the ceiling falls out and into the water. There's just enough room between two metal beams to get out. The rising WATER SHOVES them up through the hole. CUT TO: 116 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 116 Side-by-side, Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through waist-high water. They round a corner and look back -- INKY FORMS SLOSH around the corner. Heading right for them. They slog faster. PANTUCCI They're catchin' up! They're catchin' up! We gotta slow 'em down! HANOVER Feed them. That'll slow them down. A black STRIATED MUSCLE ROILS out of the foamy water, then quickly VANISHES under it, heading straight for them. PANTUCCI Feed 'em?!! Okay! All right! Feed 'em what? WHAT ARE WE GONNA FEED 'EM?! Hanover takes his pistol and SHOOTS Pantucci in the leg, BLAM! Pantucci SCREAMS. FALLS into the water. Hanover RUNS on. Pantucci doesn't even have time to deal with the pain. He starts SCRAMBLING through the water. UNDERWATER, the INKY FORMS RACE AFTER HIM. Only meters away. Pantucci throws himself into the opening of a dumbwaiter. SLAMS the DOOR SHUT. The TENTACLE ATTACKS the door. WORMING its way across the surface, trying to find a way inside. Pantucci is scared beyond his pain. Pushing back as far as he can against the rear wall, he sees the control button. He presses the up arrow. The dumbwaiter starts to move. CUT TO: 117 FUJI MARU REAR DECK - DAY 117 The Saipan is still bobbing behind the Fuji Maru. But the HARPOON HOOK, which holds the tow-line and is embedded into the rear deck of the ship, is starting to PRY LOOSE. It JERKS and BUCKS against the metal wall. Canton doesn't notice this as he slips and slides his way up to the railing. He sees the Saipan and smiles. Then he looks off at -- 118 ISLAND 118 rising out of the ocean. About a mile away. Canton starts to climb over the railing. And that's when the HARPOON HOOK RIPS FREE. WHIZZES FORWARD. And IMPALES Canton's LEG. He SCREAMS. Tries to spin free. The hook hangs onto his leg for a long, agonizing BEAT as Canton continues to SCREAM. Then the HOOK RIPS FREE, grabs the METAL RAILING and starts TEARING IT off the deck. Canton drops to the deck, holding his leg and whimpering in pain. And then he sees it -- 119 SPEEDBOAT 119 dangling from its harness down on the watersports platform. 120 TO SCENE 120 Canton starts to crawl for it. Moaning and bleeding. CUT TO: 121 CRYSTAL POOL DECK - NIGHT 121 Finnegan and Trillian race up onto the pool deck. Passing beneath a colorful NEON SIGN which READS: "THE FUJI MARU - YOUR FUN SHIP" In the dark, Trillian trips. She falls to the slippery, waterlogged deck, and SCREAMS... TRILLIAN EEEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH! ...clawing at her face... Finnegan pulls her hands from her face...and the thing that attached itself there...a small squid from the shattered aquarium. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) (freaked) Ah...ah...ah... Tries to catch her breath. FINNEGAN It's OK...it's not one of them... it's from the aquarium...it's... And then it dawns on Finnegan. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's not them...it's it... TRILLIAN What? FINNEGAN You know what kind of force it took to rip open the bow of this ship? A million little things like this... He holds up the squid. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...can't exert that kind of pressure... And the way it tracked us? A million little things don't carry portable phones to coordinate positions... What's chasing us... it's one...thing...one giant... thing. SMASH CUT TO: 122 ARIAL POV - MATTE FX SHOT - NIGHT 122 ...looking down on the Fuji Maru from high up in the air. Beneath the ENTIRE SHIP is an enormous, undulating BLACK SHADOW. A massive monster from the deep. CUT TO: 123 CASINO - NIGHT 123 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH. The CLAXTON RINGS. Off to one side of a wall, behind the bar, the dumbwaiter door opens, and Pantucci tumbles out, looks around, and then hears... HANOVER (V.O.) Help!! Help!! Pantucci limps around the bar, down a row of one armed bandits... rounds a corner, comes face-to-face with Hanover. Hanover's eyes are filled with terror and despair. His face is badly constricted. His body paralyzed. He clings to a black-jack table as a Tentacle-Sac drinks its way up his leg. It's already to his hip. He grasps desperately for his pistol, just beyond his reach on the floor. This guy ain't gonna survive. PANTUCCI YELPS and quickly back away, eyes wide, totally tense. He looks around, sees that there's only one Tentacle, and it's completely occupied with devouring Hanover. Pantucci is wigged, but manages to lock eyes with Hanover. Then he looks at the Sac, filled with regurgitated flesh. PANTUCCI ...even you don't deserve this. Pantucci picks up Hanover's pistol. Then slowly, cautiously, he creeps forward, and sticks the gun into Hanover's TWITCHING HAND. PANTUCCI (CONT'D) I'm sorry man... He turns and quickly limps off. Hanover's EYES look down at the gun in his hand. Then, with all the strength he has left, he slowly, painfully, turns the pistol so it points at his head. CLOSE ON: Hanover's trembling FINGER. As it slowly squeezes the trigger. He want to kill himself. Needs to hill himself. He squeezes harder. The TRIGGER DEPRESSES! -- CLICK! The gun is empty. Hanover's mouth opens in a horrible, silent scream. CUT TO: 124 REAR DECK - SAME TIME 124 Finnegan and Trillian race out onto the rear deck just as the HARPOON HOOK finishes TEARING the railing off the ship. The HOOK, the TOW- LINE, and the ENTIRE RAILING DROP over the side and fall OUT OF SIGHT. The TWO BOATS are now UNCOUPLED. Finnegan reels at the rain soaked sky. FINNEGAN Will somebody give me a break here? And that's when Finnegan and Trillian hear the SOUND of a HYDRAULIC HOIST. They look over -- 125 AT THE WATERSPORTS PLATFORM: 125 The speedboat is being hydraulically lowered into the water. Canton sits inside, fiddling with the ignition. ANGLE ON: Trillian and Finnegan racing down the spiral stairs leading to the watersports platform. TRILLIAN Wait! Stop! The boat touches down into the water. CANTON I'd like to but I have an appointment with my insurance broker! He HITS the HOIST-RELEASE BUTTON. The speedboat breaks free. Canton HITS the IGNITION. The boat's ENGINE ROARS. CANTON (CONT'D) Life takes the damndest turns, doesn't it? He red-lines the THROTTLE. The SPEEDBOAT HAULS ASS away from the cruiseliner. Canton steers for the island. Smiling. ANGLE ON: Trillian IN HER RAGE... TRILLIAN You son of a bitch!! She grabs Finnegan's pulse rifle, hefts it to her shoulder... FINNEGAN Look! He forces her to look in the distance. Their POV. The island. TRILLIAN Oh my god! Oh my god! How do we do it? How do we get there? FINNEGAN Not like him. Finnegan points to the water...and an INKY PSEUDOPOD FORM racing after the speedboat underwater. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's the engine...it can hear the engine...it goes for the loudest sound... The Tentacle quickly picks up speed, going faster and faster, getting closer and closer, stretching further and further. Suddenly, behind them, a METALLIC THRASHING SOUND is HEARD. They turn around and look -- The hook, the tow-line, and the entire railing have dropped down onto the watersports platform and are tangled up around the two jet skis, trying to tear free -- The Saipan is still clinging by its fingernails to the Fuji Maru! Finnegan races over to a WINCH and grabs the winch- line. CUT TO: 126 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 126 Canton, smiling brightly, peers at the approaching island through the speedboat's windscreen. So relieved he sings to himself, from the operetta H.M.S. PINAFORE. CANTON Oh we sail the ocean blue, and our mighty ship's a beauty. We are strong men, yes it's true, and responsive to our duty... When...YANK!!...the SPEEDBOAT is GRABBED from below, practically exploding as it DISINTEGRATES into TWO PIECES. Canton is PROPELLED through the windscreen and onto the hood. CUT TO: 127 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 127 Finnegan struggles to clip the winch-line onto the tow-line, hanging precariously over the edge of the ship, clip in one hand, winch-line in the other. The whole METAL MESS is BUCKING and TWISTING and SCREECHING. His every joint is being ripped out of socket as he strains to get the clip on the line before the entire rig tears away into the sea. With one last heroic effort of will and grit, he snaps the clip in place just as it all BREAKS LOOSE. One of the JET SKIS and the ENTIRE RAILING are RIPPED over the side and fall down into the ocean. Finnegan is also YANKED over the side, but he manages to hold on by his fingers, dangling precariously. FINNEGAN Hit it! Hit it! The HOOK and the TOW-LINE drop -- then SNAP TAUGHT as the winch-line holds them tight. Trillian throws the start lever on the winch. The WINCH KICKS ON and starts reeling in the Saipan. Finnegan tries to crawl up on the deck, exhausted. Trillian reaches down and pulls him the rest of the way up. He half collapses on top of her. TRILLIAN You know, Finnegan, I'm starting to believe what you said about you not being born to die on a luxury liner. Despite the grimness of their position, the closeness of their bodies is...a turn on...to both of them...and then a SCREAM from the sea. They look in the direction of... CUT TO: 128 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 128 Canton is pinned to the hood of the speedboat, his face shredded by glass, his leg mangled, screaming as his panicked eyes watch a TENTACLE slowly squirm across the hood toward him, it's hideous feelers writhe and arch. Canton backs away from it as far as he can. Another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up next to him. Canton crawls away from that one. Its Feelers and Suckers unsheathe, dripping mucus. Canton's eyes widen, horrified. Then another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up. Canton crawls to the center of the hood. And another TENTACLE. Canton has nowhere to go. The Tentacles close in on him. CANTON No! No! No! All the tentacles rise over him, about to descend. CANTON (CONT'D) NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! CUT TO: 129 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 129 Finnegan and Trillian race for all they are worth, clamber over the side of the Fuji Maru, dropping to the deck of the Saipan. CUT TO: 130 SAIPAN - NIGHT 130 Finnegan and Trillian slowly clamber through the hold, waist deep in water, on edge, eyes wide, watching for any sign of trouble. It's quiet in here. Maybe too quiet. TRILLIAN (quietly) Finnegan... FINNEGAN Yeah... TRILLIAN ...the minute you start your engines ...it's going to kill us, isn't it? They step up to one of the big CRATES. Finnegan starts SMASHING it with the butt of his pulse-rifle. The CRATE BURST OPEN. REVEALING the WARHEAD of the torpedo. Trillian is stunned. FINNEGAN Not unless we kill it first. Finnegan SMASHES more of the CRATE, it falls apart, REVEALING the entire torpedo. He hands her his pulse rifle. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) Anything moves, you shoot. Finnegan starts to yank open the top plates of the missile head. Trillian looks around nervously. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) There's not much horsepower left in the engines, but there's enough noise...once this baby's set...I'll rev it up...that slimy bastard will come for it like candy... TRILLIAN If you blow up your boat, how are we going to get to the island? FINNEGAN Jet ski...there's one left up there. The plate comes loose. Revealing a gaggle of wires, and parts. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...let's see, it was red wire cross compressor blue wire...or blue cross red? He starts to fiddle with the wires. -- Suddenly, there's a LOUD SLOSHING SOUND right behind them! CRATES TOPPLE! More pulse rifles spill out. Trillian spins, ready to blast away with the pulse rifle, to... PANTUCCI Don't shoot!! Don't shoot!! FINNEGAN Just the man I wanted to see. On this puppy here, you remember if it's red to blue or blue to red... He refers to the wires. PANTUCCI Not even a Joey, I'm glad to see you? Joey, what happened to your leg? FINNEGAN Joey, you want to get sucked out by a giant fucking mutated squid? PANTUCCI (fast) Red cross over to blue double blue ...is that what it is? A squid? FINNEGAN Squid...squid like...squid type... it's got tentacles, a feed sac... probably one central nervous processor somewhere...what the hell do I know is going on deep down in the ocean...there's all sorts of shit we've never seen...eighty foot clams...60 foot sharks...I'm just guessing...can you get me more juice out of Hercules...fast? PANTUCCI For juice, I gotta rebuild. That's not fast. TRILLIAN How about noise? Can you get noise? We don't need speed, just noise, right? FINNEGAN Right... PANTUCCI Can somebody tell me what the object of the exercise is here? FINNEGAN Seafood salad. (to Trillian) You ever operate a jet ski? TRILLIAN (nervous) You want ME to go up there? FINNEGAN Not unless you can wire a missile or fix an engine. TRILLIAN And what if I run into one of those things? Finnegan tosses her a pulse rifle from the overturned crate. FINNEGAN Don't forget the safety. She hits the safety, slams a shell into chamber... TRILLIAN Don't take too long...I'm not planning on being on the menu tonight. ...and exits. PANTUCCI (razzing) I've never seen you so congenial with a member of the opposite sex... The two of you got a nice patter going...got a nice rapport... FINNEGAN And you got 10 minutes before this thing livens up a boring evening. Finnegan attaches a wire to a sprocket. A red light starts to blink on the warhead. CUT TO: 131 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 131 It is VERY DARK. The RAIN is getting worse. THUNDER RUMBLES. LIGHTNING FLASHES. The FUJI MARU MOANS and CREAKS. BUBBLES EXPLODE from beneath it. The Saipan rocks against her hull. Trillian clambers along the TILTING RAILING, heading for the watersports platform. Her gorgeous eyes shift nervously. TRILLIAN I'm going to be OK...I'm going to be OK... The ship's METAL HULL SCREECHES. The SEAWATER BUBBLES and GURGLES. From somewhere deep inside the ship, we HEAR that loud primordial YOWL again. Trillian freezes, her heart double beats. She looks around, really scared. CUT TO: 132 SAIPAN'S HOLD - NIGHT 132 The missile is on a hoist being pushed forward by Pantucci and Finnegan toward a GAPING HOLE in the PORT BOW. PANTUCCI You know what I think? I think our luck has just about run shit out... FINNEGAN A little to the left... PANTUCCI I think we gotta stop floating from one fucked up situation to the next... FINNEGAN Line it up now, nice and easy... The missile head is right in line with the hole in the bow. PANTUCCI I'm telling you, man, we got to give the future some serious thought. FINNEGAN I have been. PANTUCCI And what have you come up with? FINNEGAN How does an island sound to you? Pantucci looks at Finnegan quizically. This is news to him. CUT TO: 133 SAIPAN - NIGHT 133 The TIP of the WARHEAD creeps out through the hole. The body of the missile is just a hair too wide, which is good, because it jams itself nice and tight into the hole. CUT TO: 134 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 134 Trillian takes the tarp off the remaining jet ski. Pushes the swivel arm that holds it out over the railing. The PLATFORM TILTS! Trillian loses her balance. Almost goes over the

watery

How many times the word 'watery' appears in the text?

FIRE and BUBBLES. Trillian looks around. Scared shitless. The bubbles clear just in time for her to see -- Chin, mouth open, eyes wide, screaming in agony, being ripped past her. She tries to fire her rifle. Too late. Trillian watches as Chin VANISHES down the shaft in a CLOUD OF BUBBLES. CUT TO: 100 KITCHEN - NIGHT 100 TRILLIAN BURSTS to the surface. FINNEGAN YANKS her up and out of the water. FINNEGAN You O.K.? Trillian can only nod, and gasp for breath. Canton and Hanover catch their breath, PANTING AWAY, waterlogged. Hanover reaches over to retrieve the rifle in Trillian's hand. Trillian points the barrel at him, and hits the safety. TRILLIAN (grim) Finders keepers. Mamooli bursts out of the water, falling on the floor, close to panic mode. MAMOOLI Where's Chin? TRILLIAN Gone... MAMOOLI This is not real! This is not bloody real! Finnegan TOPPLES a large, heavy metal BROILER onto the open floor gate, sealing the watery hole in the floor. There are two hatches in this room. The far hatch is closed. Mamooli stands next to an OPEN HATCH. Canton points to it. CANTON Through there...another sixty, seventy yards...there are more elevators there. PANTUCCI I ain't goin' up no more elevators. CANTON There's stairways... Mamooli SLAMS the HATCH SHUT. Eyes bugging out of his head. MAMOOLI I say we stay right here! PANTUCCI Are you crazy? MAMOOLI (desperate) There's plenty of food here. We can hold out...someone'll rescue us... FINNEGAN Who? MAMOOLI Someone...maybe they sent an SOS! PANTUCCI On what? This son of a bitch (to Canton) zapped the communications. HANOVER Mamooli stand down! MAMOOLI We don't even know if his boat is still there...you saw Billy! FINNEGAN Boat or no boat...I'm going... Finnegan steps forward. Mamooli aims his rifle right at Finnegan's head. MAMOOLI They're wipin' us out one at a time. I say we make a stand. Right here! Right now! Maximum firepower! PANTUCCI Somebody shoot this jerk! FINNEGAN (calm) Nobody's shooting nobody...come on, just let us through the hatch! MAMOOLI I'll kill you!! I'll fucking kill you!! I'll do it! I'll do it! I'm not playin' around here! Finnegan freezes. CLOSE ON: The hatch. As a BLACK LIQUID starts to OOZE through a tiny latch-hole. No one sees it. FINNEGAN I once saw a guy put a fish in a bottle, then he corked it, sealing it tight, and threw it to a baby octopus. The little sucker felt its way around that bottle, and in less than two minutes, got that cork off, slid inside, and ate that fish. MAMOOLI What the hell are you talking about? FINNEGAN Us...I'm talking about us... We're the fish. The LIQUID SHADOW OOZES down and hits the floor, starts to EXPAND, filling like a water balloon. It's not a liquid. It's a Tentacle. VEINS, FEELERS and SUCKERS begin to form. MAMOOLI And what? These things are octopuses FINNEGAN I don't know what these things are ...all I know is... The TENTACLE slowly RISES UP right behind Mamooli. Inches behind his head. Finnegan and Hanover see it. Eyes widening. MAMOOLI What...? What?? Mamooli turns to the tentacle looming over him, about to strike. MAMOOLI (CONT'D) EEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH!!!! He opens fire, emptying his clip into the tentacle. The tentacle retreats into the pipes. Mamooli looks around. The room is empty. He runs out. CUT TO: 101 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 101 Mamooli rushes into the empty passageway, looks left. Then right. His POV. Down the hall another TENTACLE comes racing at him. Mamooli panics, drops his rifle. TRACK WITH Mamooli racing down the hallway, looking over his shoulder in fear, as the tentacle comes racing after him...gaining...gaining... almost on him... Mamooli leaps through an open hatch, and swings it shut in one swift motion. The tentacle slams into the glass portal. Stopped. Mamooli keeps his eye on the portal, and backs up two steps. He lets out a long deep breath of relief, turns... WHAM!!! Another tentacle envelops his face! MAMOOLI EEEYYYAAAHHHH!!!!! CUT TO: 102 MECHANICAL CHAMBER - NIGHT 102 Dante's Inferno: STEAM, SMOKE, FIRE, STRANGE NOISES, DARK AREAS, and lots of MOVING ENGINE PARTS. Finnegan leads, followed by Trillian, Hanover, Pantucci, and Canton. We can HEAR their HEARTS BEATING. Scary shit. Finnegan heads for a open HATCH. It suddenly SLAMS SHUT. He instantly VEERS down another passageway. PANTUCCI What the hell is going on!! Finnegan heads for another open HATCHWAY. It also SLAMS SHUT. FINNEGAN They're herding us. Finnegan and company keep going. HANOVER What are you talking about? As they round a corner, the CEILING IMPLODES right in front of them. PIPES and OTHER MATTER CRASH down. Cutting them off. Leaving only one route open...a slim passageway. FINNEGAN Like cattle... TRILLIAN You're saying they can think? FINNEGAN I'm saying they're calling the shots... Finnegan heads toward the passageway. CANTON Do we have to go there? The ceiling left above them begins to torque, and splits. The answer is plain. Everyone runs into the passage just as the ceiling comes down. CUT TO: 103 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 103 Finnegan leads them single-file, they quickly head into a SHAKING narrow void. Fear has led to silence, and unbearable tension. The walls on either side creak, and moan with strange noises. CUT TO: 104 MID-HULL - NIGHT 104 Finnegan quickly comes out of the CREAKING, MOANING GANGWAY, followed by the others. All the STRANGE NOISES suddenly STOP. Everything gets quiet. Finnegan freezes. Something's wrong. Everybody looks around. STEAM SHOOTS OUT from multiple pipes. The air is thick with MIST. TRILLIAN What's the matter? FINNEGAN The quiet... HANOVER Maybe we lost them. FINNEGAN Or maybe we're exactly where they want us to be. Finnegan moves on. The others follow. Guns out front. TENSE. They round a huge metal pillar and come face-to-face with a soul-wrenching nightmare. The CREATURES' NEST -- OR STOMACH. Across a small portion of the ship's midsection, is a huge GELATINOUS WOMB. Imagine a massive thick wall of clear-yellow JELL-O, with hundreds of BLUE VEINS running through it. If it weren't all so horrific, it would be considered beautiful. Inside the womb, A DOZEN HUMANS, passengers, float around in some kind of twisted embryonic state, the living dead. They all seem to be breathing the gelatin. Several TENTACLES WRIGGLE through the stuff; which divides and re forms in some sort of strange mitosis. Finnegan and the others look at the passengers, horrified. But even more horrifying is that the people can look back at them. Many start to reach out, seemingly in slow motion as their hands ooze through the thick gelatin. Trillian looks sick, trembles in fear. TRILLIAN What is it? FINNEGAN A meat locker. TRILLIAN We can't just leave them here. Canton looks like he's about to throw up, he starts backing away, heading for a side hatch. CANTON I can. In the womb, a Tentacle suddenly approaches a sexy young LADY. The Lady tries to back-pedal away, but because of the gelatin, it's like one of those nightmares where you can only move in slow motion. The FEELERS GRIP her naked thigh. She tries to scream, but her face is already starting to constrict, her whole body is being paralyzed. Pantucci is so horrified he's about to cry. PANTUCCI Oh no...oh God please no. The TENTACLE-SAC gloms onto the Lady's forehead. THROUGH THE SAC we can SEE her SKIN MELTING. The only thing she can move are her EYES, which are bugging-out in absolute horror as she is imbibed alive. Our heroes are frozen in fear. Until the Lady's EYES LIQUEFY. Trillian burries her head in Finnegan's shoulder, trying to shut out the horror. FINNEGAN We can't do anything for them... Let's go... He begins to lead her toward the hatch...when her eyes recognized the old lady with the orchid in her hair. The old lady seems to see her too. Her hands read out, IMPLORING. Her mouth silently shapes the words: HELP ME! Just as a tentacle comes creeping toward her. TRILLIAN NOOO!! Her rage rises. She hefts her rifle, and starts blasting away. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) You won't get her!! You won't!! Spitting FLAMES and SMOKE. The BULLETS IMPACT the gelatin. BLASTING IT AWAY. But the bullets only manage to go about twenty feet into the thick shit before gliding to a stop. GELATIN EXPLODES all over the place. TRACER HOLES STREAK through the stuff. But all the bullets are sliding short. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) Finnegan...do something!! Please!! Finnegan looks around and spots the place in the ceiling where most of the Tentacles are coming from. Their long TAILS WIGGLE down from a massive clutter of pipes. A bas-relief of horror. Finnegan reaches over and yanks two thermite grenades off Hanover's utility belt. HANOVER Finnegan, No!!! ...bites the pins and spits them out. FINNEGAN Eat this. He chucks the grenades up into the strange WRITHING FRESCO, safely clear of the passengers. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) FIRE IN THE HOLE! Pantucci and Hanover throw themselves to the floor. Finnegan pulls Trillian down, covering her. BA-WOOM! GELATIN SPRAYS EVERYWHERE. CUT TO: 105 FUJI MARU - SAME TIME 105 A loud, creepy, suction-like SOUND is HEARD, that strange pitter- patter of little feet running across the hull. Then the HULL begins to MOAN and CREAK from an UNSEEN PRESSURE. CUT TO: 106 MID HULL - NIGHT 106 All the MOVEMENT STOPS. The remaining TENTACLES VANISH into the machinery. Pantucci, and Hanover look up from the floor, covered in slime. Finnegan and Trillian also look up...and then look at each other face to face...inches apart. Dripping with slime. FINNEGAN Looking good... TRILLIAN You should talk... Then the machinery shuts down. The engines go dead. ALL SOUND CUTS OUT. An expectant hush. Somewhere, WATER DRIPS... WE GO EXTREMELY CLOSE ON Trillian's EYES. Pantucci's EYES. Hanover's EYES. Finnegan's EYES. The air is riddled with ominous expectation. And that's when the HULL BEGINS TO TORQUE. RIVETS POP and SNAP. WATER SPRAYS. METAL BUCKLES. 107 SHOT: 107 At the far end of the ship, part of the LOWER BOW RIPS OPEN! AND A WALL OF WATER RUSHES IN. FLOOD CITY! Finnegan's eyes widen as he sees (MODEL SHOT) the massive WAVE OF WATER CRASHING TOWARDS THEM. RIPPING OUT PIPES, DUCTS, WALLS, EQUIPMENT and EVERYTHING in front of it. FINNEGAN GO! GO! GO! They all hightail it for hatches. Finnegan and Trillian make it into one hatch. Hanover and Pantucci make it into another. WATER CRASHES and SPRAYS behind them. CUT TO: 108 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 108 Massive AIR BUBBLES EXPLODE out from under the bow. CUT TO: 109 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 109 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH up and down every passageway. And a CLAXTON RINGS, in accelerating tones, giving a frenetic urgency to ALL OF THE FOLLOWING SCENES: 110 A PASSAGEWAY: 110 WATER BLASTS through a hatch and CHASES Finnegan and Trillian down a passageway. They jag left at an intersection -- WATER BLASTS through the hatch directly in front of them. FINNEGAN We're going to sink! We've got to get on deck! They backtrack. Trillian's now in the lead. They HAUL ASS down a hallway. WATER ROARING IN from everywhere behind them. All of the watertight HATCHES begin to hydraulically CLOSE. Trillian and Finnegan JAG into a hatch. It's a small room. The hatch in front of them closes. WATER BLASTS in behind them. SWEEPS them off their feet. The ROOM quickly starts to FILL UP. Trillian pulls frantically at the hatch. CUT TO: 111 NARROW PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 111 Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through knee-high water. Pantucci stumbles into the water, frantically scrambles up. He looks back -- UNDER THE WATER, INKY FORMS hurl themselves down the passageway right towards him. Pantucci YELPS, and splashes away. CUT TO: 112 SUBMERGING ROOM - NIGHT 112 Trillian and Finnegan pull with all their might on a tiny portal. Finnegan tries to insert the blade of his knife in the crack. TRILLIAN So how do you get from the Bronx to the South China sea? FINNEGAN You quit high school, lie about your age, join the navy, and next thing you know, four years are up and you need a way to make a living... The knife blade slips into the crack. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) I'll break the seal! Pull. He yanks the blade. Trillian pulls. The seal pops. The portal flies open. Waist-high in water, Trillian sticks her arm out, tries to get her shoulder out, but there's no chance in hell of that. TRILLIAN Too small! She pulls her arm out. And a TENTACLE LUNGES IN. Just missing Trillian. It SPLASHES under the water. GRABS Finnegan's ankle. Pulls him under. FINNEGAN sticks the barrel of his gun underwater and OPENS FIRE. WATER EXPLODES. The Tentacle recoils. And rips itself back out the porthole. Trillian SLAMS the PORTHOLE SHUT and dogs it tight. The WATER QUICKLY RISES. CUT TO: 113 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 113 Pantucci and Hanover hauling ass. Hanover pulls out his last two Thermite grenades. Pantucci panics and grabs for them. PANTUCCI Gimme one! Gimme one! He knocks both of them out of Hanover's hands. They DISAPPEAR under the water. HANOVER You idiot! They quickly fumble around in the water, trying to find them. A TENTACLE BLASTS around the corner. Partially obscured by the wave in front of it. Heading right for them. Hanover finds the two grenades. Gives one to Pantucci. They rip the pins out and toss the grenades behind them. Then HAUL ASS faster. The Tentacle right behind them. A BEAT. And then the GRENADES EXPLODE, BA-WOOM! BA-WOOM! CUT TO: 114 FUJI MARY - NIGHT 114 The storm hammers the deck. Canton staggers out onto the RAIN SLICKED DECK just in time to see -- A HOLE BEING BLOWN OUT the side of the Fuji Maru's HULL. BUBBLES continue to EXPLODE OUT from under the bow. CANTON Oh my God, it's going to sink. Then slowly, Canton gets a gleam in his eye, now thrilled. CANTON (CONT'D) It's going to sink. CUT TO: 115 SUBMERGED ROOM - NIGHT 115 Finnegan and Trillian are getting banged around the frothy WATER as it quickly RISES. Now only inches from the ceiling. Trapped. They're about to drown. Finnegan keeps looking around, trying to figure a way out. TRILLIAN I was so goddamn close, Finnegan! So goddamn close to my island... I could almost taste the sand... FINNEGAN Keep tasting... Finnegan shoves the pulse rifle to the ceiling. And blasts away until part of the ceiling falls out and into the water. There's just enough room between two metal beams to get out. The rising WATER SHOVES them up through the hole. CUT TO: 116 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 116 Side-by-side, Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through waist-high water. They round a corner and look back -- INKY FORMS SLOSH around the corner. Heading right for them. They slog faster. PANTUCCI They're catchin' up! They're catchin' up! We gotta slow 'em down! HANOVER Feed them. That'll slow them down. A black STRIATED MUSCLE ROILS out of the foamy water, then quickly VANISHES under it, heading straight for them. PANTUCCI Feed 'em?!! Okay! All right! Feed 'em what? WHAT ARE WE GONNA FEED 'EM?! Hanover takes his pistol and SHOOTS Pantucci in the leg, BLAM! Pantucci SCREAMS. FALLS into the water. Hanover RUNS on. Pantucci doesn't even have time to deal with the pain. He starts SCRAMBLING through the water. UNDERWATER, the INKY FORMS RACE AFTER HIM. Only meters away. Pantucci throws himself into the opening of a dumbwaiter. SLAMS the DOOR SHUT. The TENTACLE ATTACKS the door. WORMING its way across the surface, trying to find a way inside. Pantucci is scared beyond his pain. Pushing back as far as he can against the rear wall, he sees the control button. He presses the up arrow. The dumbwaiter starts to move. CUT TO: 117 FUJI MARU REAR DECK - DAY 117 The Saipan is still bobbing behind the Fuji Maru. But the HARPOON HOOK, which holds the tow-line and is embedded into the rear deck of the ship, is starting to PRY LOOSE. It JERKS and BUCKS against the metal wall. Canton doesn't notice this as he slips and slides his way up to the railing. He sees the Saipan and smiles. Then he looks off at -- 118 ISLAND 118 rising out of the ocean. About a mile away. Canton starts to climb over the railing. And that's when the HARPOON HOOK RIPS FREE. WHIZZES FORWARD. And IMPALES Canton's LEG. He SCREAMS. Tries to spin free. The hook hangs onto his leg for a long, agonizing BEAT as Canton continues to SCREAM. Then the HOOK RIPS FREE, grabs the METAL RAILING and starts TEARING IT off the deck. Canton drops to the deck, holding his leg and whimpering in pain. And then he sees it -- 119 SPEEDBOAT 119 dangling from its harness down on the watersports platform. 120 TO SCENE 120 Canton starts to crawl for it. Moaning and bleeding. CUT TO: 121 CRYSTAL POOL DECK - NIGHT 121 Finnegan and Trillian race up onto the pool deck. Passing beneath a colorful NEON SIGN which READS: "THE FUJI MARU - YOUR FUN SHIP" In the dark, Trillian trips. She falls to the slippery, waterlogged deck, and SCREAMS... TRILLIAN EEEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH! ...clawing at her face... Finnegan pulls her hands from her face...and the thing that attached itself there...a small squid from the shattered aquarium. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) (freaked) Ah...ah...ah... Tries to catch her breath. FINNEGAN It's OK...it's not one of them... it's from the aquarium...it's... And then it dawns on Finnegan. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's not them...it's it... TRILLIAN What? FINNEGAN You know what kind of force it took to rip open the bow of this ship? A million little things like this... He holds up the squid. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...can't exert that kind of pressure... And the way it tracked us? A million little things don't carry portable phones to coordinate positions... What's chasing us... it's one...thing...one giant... thing. SMASH CUT TO: 122 ARIAL POV - MATTE FX SHOT - NIGHT 122 ...looking down on the Fuji Maru from high up in the air. Beneath the ENTIRE SHIP is an enormous, undulating BLACK SHADOW. A massive monster from the deep. CUT TO: 123 CASINO - NIGHT 123 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH. The CLAXTON RINGS. Off to one side of a wall, behind the bar, the dumbwaiter door opens, and Pantucci tumbles out, looks around, and then hears... HANOVER (V.O.) Help!! Help!! Pantucci limps around the bar, down a row of one armed bandits... rounds a corner, comes face-to-face with Hanover. Hanover's eyes are filled with terror and despair. His face is badly constricted. His body paralyzed. He clings to a black-jack table as a Tentacle-Sac drinks its way up his leg. It's already to his hip. He grasps desperately for his pistol, just beyond his reach on the floor. This guy ain't gonna survive. PANTUCCI YELPS and quickly back away, eyes wide, totally tense. He looks around, sees that there's only one Tentacle, and it's completely occupied with devouring Hanover. Pantucci is wigged, but manages to lock eyes with Hanover. Then he looks at the Sac, filled with regurgitated flesh. PANTUCCI ...even you don't deserve this. Pantucci picks up Hanover's pistol. Then slowly, cautiously, he creeps forward, and sticks the gun into Hanover's TWITCHING HAND. PANTUCCI (CONT'D) I'm sorry man... He turns and quickly limps off. Hanover's EYES look down at the gun in his hand. Then, with all the strength he has left, he slowly, painfully, turns the pistol so it points at his head. CLOSE ON: Hanover's trembling FINGER. As it slowly squeezes the trigger. He want to kill himself. Needs to hill himself. He squeezes harder. The TRIGGER DEPRESSES! -- CLICK! The gun is empty. Hanover's mouth opens in a horrible, silent scream. CUT TO: 124 REAR DECK - SAME TIME 124 Finnegan and Trillian race out onto the rear deck just as the HARPOON HOOK finishes TEARING the railing off the ship. The HOOK, the TOW- LINE, and the ENTIRE RAILING DROP over the side and fall OUT OF SIGHT. The TWO BOATS are now UNCOUPLED. Finnegan reels at the rain soaked sky. FINNEGAN Will somebody give me a break here? And that's when Finnegan and Trillian hear the SOUND of a HYDRAULIC HOIST. They look over -- 125 AT THE WATERSPORTS PLATFORM: 125 The speedboat is being hydraulically lowered into the water. Canton sits inside, fiddling with the ignition. ANGLE ON: Trillian and Finnegan racing down the spiral stairs leading to the watersports platform. TRILLIAN Wait! Stop! The boat touches down into the water. CANTON I'd like to but I have an appointment with my insurance broker! He HITS the HOIST-RELEASE BUTTON. The speedboat breaks free. Canton HITS the IGNITION. The boat's ENGINE ROARS. CANTON (CONT'D) Life takes the damndest turns, doesn't it? He red-lines the THROTTLE. The SPEEDBOAT HAULS ASS away from the cruiseliner. Canton steers for the island. Smiling. ANGLE ON: Trillian IN HER RAGE... TRILLIAN You son of a bitch!! She grabs Finnegan's pulse rifle, hefts it to her shoulder... FINNEGAN Look! He forces her to look in the distance. Their POV. The island. TRILLIAN Oh my god! Oh my god! How do we do it? How do we get there? FINNEGAN Not like him. Finnegan points to the water...and an INKY PSEUDOPOD FORM racing after the speedboat underwater. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's the engine...it can hear the engine...it goes for the loudest sound... The Tentacle quickly picks up speed, going faster and faster, getting closer and closer, stretching further and further. Suddenly, behind them, a METALLIC THRASHING SOUND is HEARD. They turn around and look -- The hook, the tow-line, and the entire railing have dropped down onto the watersports platform and are tangled up around the two jet skis, trying to tear free -- The Saipan is still clinging by its fingernails to the Fuji Maru! Finnegan races over to a WINCH and grabs the winch- line. CUT TO: 126 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 126 Canton, smiling brightly, peers at the approaching island through the speedboat's windscreen. So relieved he sings to himself, from the operetta H.M.S. PINAFORE. CANTON Oh we sail the ocean blue, and our mighty ship's a beauty. We are strong men, yes it's true, and responsive to our duty... When...YANK!!...the SPEEDBOAT is GRABBED from below, practically exploding as it DISINTEGRATES into TWO PIECES. Canton is PROPELLED through the windscreen and onto the hood. CUT TO: 127 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 127 Finnegan struggles to clip the winch-line onto the tow-line, hanging precariously over the edge of the ship, clip in one hand, winch-line in the other. The whole METAL MESS is BUCKING and TWISTING and SCREECHING. His every joint is being ripped out of socket as he strains to get the clip on the line before the entire rig tears away into the sea. With one last heroic effort of will and grit, he snaps the clip in place just as it all BREAKS LOOSE. One of the JET SKIS and the ENTIRE RAILING are RIPPED over the side and fall down into the ocean. Finnegan is also YANKED over the side, but he manages to hold on by his fingers, dangling precariously. FINNEGAN Hit it! Hit it! The HOOK and the TOW-LINE drop -- then SNAP TAUGHT as the winch-line holds them tight. Trillian throws the start lever on the winch. The WINCH KICKS ON and starts reeling in the Saipan. Finnegan tries to crawl up on the deck, exhausted. Trillian reaches down and pulls him the rest of the way up. He half collapses on top of her. TRILLIAN You know, Finnegan, I'm starting to believe what you said about you not being born to die on a luxury liner. Despite the grimness of their position, the closeness of their bodies is...a turn on...to both of them...and then a SCREAM from the sea. They look in the direction of... CUT TO: 128 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 128 Canton is pinned to the hood of the speedboat, his face shredded by glass, his leg mangled, screaming as his panicked eyes watch a TENTACLE slowly squirm across the hood toward him, it's hideous feelers writhe and arch. Canton backs away from it as far as he can. Another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up next to him. Canton crawls away from that one. Its Feelers and Suckers unsheathe, dripping mucus. Canton's eyes widen, horrified. Then another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up. Canton crawls to the center of the hood. And another TENTACLE. Canton has nowhere to go. The Tentacles close in on him. CANTON No! No! No! All the tentacles rise over him, about to descend. CANTON (CONT'D) NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! CUT TO: 129 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 129 Finnegan and Trillian race for all they are worth, clamber over the side of the Fuji Maru, dropping to the deck of the Saipan. CUT TO: 130 SAIPAN - NIGHT 130 Finnegan and Trillian slowly clamber through the hold, waist deep in water, on edge, eyes wide, watching for any sign of trouble. It's quiet in here. Maybe too quiet. TRILLIAN (quietly) Finnegan... FINNEGAN Yeah... TRILLIAN ...the minute you start your engines ...it's going to kill us, isn't it? They step up to one of the big CRATES. Finnegan starts SMASHING it with the butt of his pulse-rifle. The CRATE BURST OPEN. REVEALING the WARHEAD of the torpedo. Trillian is stunned. FINNEGAN Not unless we kill it first. Finnegan SMASHES more of the CRATE, it falls apart, REVEALING the entire torpedo. He hands her his pulse rifle. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) Anything moves, you shoot. Finnegan starts to yank open the top plates of the missile head. Trillian looks around nervously. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) There's not much horsepower left in the engines, but there's enough noise...once this baby's set...I'll rev it up...that slimy bastard will come for it like candy... TRILLIAN If you blow up your boat, how are we going to get to the island? FINNEGAN Jet ski...there's one left up there. The plate comes loose. Revealing a gaggle of wires, and parts. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...let's see, it was red wire cross compressor blue wire...or blue cross red? He starts to fiddle with the wires. -- Suddenly, there's a LOUD SLOSHING SOUND right behind them! CRATES TOPPLE! More pulse rifles spill out. Trillian spins, ready to blast away with the pulse rifle, to... PANTUCCI Don't shoot!! Don't shoot!! FINNEGAN Just the man I wanted to see. On this puppy here, you remember if it's red to blue or blue to red... He refers to the wires. PANTUCCI Not even a Joey, I'm glad to see you? Joey, what happened to your leg? FINNEGAN Joey, you want to get sucked out by a giant fucking mutated squid? PANTUCCI (fast) Red cross over to blue double blue ...is that what it is? A squid? FINNEGAN Squid...squid like...squid type... it's got tentacles, a feed sac... probably one central nervous processor somewhere...what the hell do I know is going on deep down in the ocean...there's all sorts of shit we've never seen...eighty foot clams...60 foot sharks...I'm just guessing...can you get me more juice out of Hercules...fast? PANTUCCI For juice, I gotta rebuild. That's not fast. TRILLIAN How about noise? Can you get noise? We don't need speed, just noise, right? FINNEGAN Right... PANTUCCI Can somebody tell me what the object of the exercise is here? FINNEGAN Seafood salad. (to Trillian) You ever operate a jet ski? TRILLIAN (nervous) You want ME to go up there? FINNEGAN Not unless you can wire a missile or fix an engine. TRILLIAN And what if I run into one of those things? Finnegan tosses her a pulse rifle from the overturned crate. FINNEGAN Don't forget the safety. She hits the safety, slams a shell into chamber... TRILLIAN Don't take too long...I'm not planning on being on the menu tonight. ...and exits. PANTUCCI (razzing) I've never seen you so congenial with a member of the opposite sex... The two of you got a nice patter going...got a nice rapport... FINNEGAN And you got 10 minutes before this thing livens up a boring evening. Finnegan attaches a wire to a sprocket. A red light starts to blink on the warhead. CUT TO: 131 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 131 It is VERY DARK. The RAIN is getting worse. THUNDER RUMBLES. LIGHTNING FLASHES. The FUJI MARU MOANS and CREAKS. BUBBLES EXPLODE from beneath it. The Saipan rocks against her hull. Trillian clambers along the TILTING RAILING, heading for the watersports platform. Her gorgeous eyes shift nervously. TRILLIAN I'm going to be OK...I'm going to be OK... The ship's METAL HULL SCREECHES. The SEAWATER BUBBLES and GURGLES. From somewhere deep inside the ship, we HEAR that loud primordial YOWL again. Trillian freezes, her heart double beats. She looks around, really scared. CUT TO: 132 SAIPAN'S HOLD - NIGHT 132 The missile is on a hoist being pushed forward by Pantucci and Finnegan toward a GAPING HOLE in the PORT BOW. PANTUCCI You know what I think? I think our luck has just about run shit out... FINNEGAN A little to the left... PANTUCCI I think we gotta stop floating from one fucked up situation to the next... FINNEGAN Line it up now, nice and easy... The missile head is right in line with the hole in the bow. PANTUCCI I'm telling you, man, we got to give the future some serious thought. FINNEGAN I have been. PANTUCCI And what have you come up with? FINNEGAN How does an island sound to you? Pantucci looks at Finnegan quizically. This is news to him. CUT TO: 133 SAIPAN - NIGHT 133 The TIP of the WARHEAD creeps out through the hole. The body of the missile is just a hair too wide, which is good, because it jams itself nice and tight into the hole. CUT TO: 134 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 134 Trillian takes the tarp off the remaining jet ski. Pushes the swivel arm that holds it out over the railing. The PLATFORM TILTS! Trillian loses her balance. Almost goes over the

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FIRE and BUBBLES. Trillian looks around. Scared shitless. The bubbles clear just in time for her to see -- Chin, mouth open, eyes wide, screaming in agony, being ripped past her. She tries to fire her rifle. Too late. Trillian watches as Chin VANISHES down the shaft in a CLOUD OF BUBBLES. CUT TO: 100 KITCHEN - NIGHT 100 TRILLIAN BURSTS to the surface. FINNEGAN YANKS her up and out of the water. FINNEGAN You O.K.? Trillian can only nod, and gasp for breath. Canton and Hanover catch their breath, PANTING AWAY, waterlogged. Hanover reaches over to retrieve the rifle in Trillian's hand. Trillian points the barrel at him, and hits the safety. TRILLIAN (grim) Finders keepers. Mamooli bursts out of the water, falling on the floor, close to panic mode. MAMOOLI Where's Chin? TRILLIAN Gone... MAMOOLI This is not real! This is not bloody real! Finnegan TOPPLES a large, heavy metal BROILER onto the open floor gate, sealing the watery hole in the floor. There are two hatches in this room. The far hatch is closed. Mamooli stands next to an OPEN HATCH. Canton points to it. CANTON Through there...another sixty, seventy yards...there are more elevators there. PANTUCCI I ain't goin' up no more elevators. CANTON There's stairways... Mamooli SLAMS the HATCH SHUT. Eyes bugging out of his head. MAMOOLI I say we stay right here! PANTUCCI Are you crazy? MAMOOLI (desperate) There's plenty of food here. We can hold out...someone'll rescue us... FINNEGAN Who? MAMOOLI Someone...maybe they sent an SOS! PANTUCCI On what? This son of a bitch (to Canton) zapped the communications. HANOVER Mamooli stand down! MAMOOLI We don't even know if his boat is still there...you saw Billy! FINNEGAN Boat or no boat...I'm going... Finnegan steps forward. Mamooli aims his rifle right at Finnegan's head. MAMOOLI They're wipin' us out one at a time. I say we make a stand. Right here! Right now! Maximum firepower! PANTUCCI Somebody shoot this jerk! FINNEGAN (calm) Nobody's shooting nobody...come on, just let us through the hatch! MAMOOLI I'll kill you!! I'll fucking kill you!! I'll do it! I'll do it! I'm not playin' around here! Finnegan freezes. CLOSE ON: The hatch. As a BLACK LIQUID starts to OOZE through a tiny latch-hole. No one sees it. FINNEGAN I once saw a guy put a fish in a bottle, then he corked it, sealing it tight, and threw it to a baby octopus. The little sucker felt its way around that bottle, and in less than two minutes, got that cork off, slid inside, and ate that fish. MAMOOLI What the hell are you talking about? FINNEGAN Us...I'm talking about us... We're the fish. The LIQUID SHADOW OOZES down and hits the floor, starts to EXPAND, filling like a water balloon. It's not a liquid. It's a Tentacle. VEINS, FEELERS and SUCKERS begin to form. MAMOOLI And what? These things are octopuses FINNEGAN I don't know what these things are ...all I know is... The TENTACLE slowly RISES UP right behind Mamooli. Inches behind his head. Finnegan and Hanover see it. Eyes widening. MAMOOLI What...? What?? Mamooli turns to the tentacle looming over him, about to strike. MAMOOLI (CONT'D) EEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH!!!! He opens fire, emptying his clip into the tentacle. The tentacle retreats into the pipes. Mamooli looks around. The room is empty. He runs out. CUT TO: 101 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 101 Mamooli rushes into the empty passageway, looks left. Then right. His POV. Down the hall another TENTACLE comes racing at him. Mamooli panics, drops his rifle. TRACK WITH Mamooli racing down the hallway, looking over his shoulder in fear, as the tentacle comes racing after him...gaining...gaining... almost on him... Mamooli leaps through an open hatch, and swings it shut in one swift motion. The tentacle slams into the glass portal. Stopped. Mamooli keeps his eye on the portal, and backs up two steps. He lets out a long deep breath of relief, turns... WHAM!!! Another tentacle envelops his face! MAMOOLI EEEYYYAAAHHHH!!!!! CUT TO: 102 MECHANICAL CHAMBER - NIGHT 102 Dante's Inferno: STEAM, SMOKE, FIRE, STRANGE NOISES, DARK AREAS, and lots of MOVING ENGINE PARTS. Finnegan leads, followed by Trillian, Hanover, Pantucci, and Canton. We can HEAR their HEARTS BEATING. Scary shit. Finnegan heads for a open HATCH. It suddenly SLAMS SHUT. He instantly VEERS down another passageway. PANTUCCI What the hell is going on!! Finnegan heads for another open HATCHWAY. It also SLAMS SHUT. FINNEGAN They're herding us. Finnegan and company keep going. HANOVER What are you talking about? As they round a corner, the CEILING IMPLODES right in front of them. PIPES and OTHER MATTER CRASH down. Cutting them off. Leaving only one route open...a slim passageway. FINNEGAN Like cattle... TRILLIAN You're saying they can think? FINNEGAN I'm saying they're calling the shots... Finnegan heads toward the passageway. CANTON Do we have to go there? The ceiling left above them begins to torque, and splits. The answer is plain. Everyone runs into the passage just as the ceiling comes down. CUT TO: 103 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 103 Finnegan leads them single-file, they quickly head into a SHAKING narrow void. Fear has led to silence, and unbearable tension. The walls on either side creak, and moan with strange noises. CUT TO: 104 MID-HULL - NIGHT 104 Finnegan quickly comes out of the CREAKING, MOANING GANGWAY, followed by the others. All the STRANGE NOISES suddenly STOP. Everything gets quiet. Finnegan freezes. Something's wrong. Everybody looks around. STEAM SHOOTS OUT from multiple pipes. The air is thick with MIST. TRILLIAN What's the matter? FINNEGAN The quiet... HANOVER Maybe we lost them. FINNEGAN Or maybe we're exactly where they want us to be. Finnegan moves on. The others follow. Guns out front. TENSE. They round a huge metal pillar and come face-to-face with a soul-wrenching nightmare. The CREATURES' NEST -- OR STOMACH. Across a small portion of the ship's midsection, is a huge GELATINOUS WOMB. Imagine a massive thick wall of clear-yellow JELL-O, with hundreds of BLUE VEINS running through it. If it weren't all so horrific, it would be considered beautiful. Inside the womb, A DOZEN HUMANS, passengers, float around in some kind of twisted embryonic state, the living dead. They all seem to be breathing the gelatin. Several TENTACLES WRIGGLE through the stuff; which divides and re forms in some sort of strange mitosis. Finnegan and the others look at the passengers, horrified. But even more horrifying is that the people can look back at them. Many start to reach out, seemingly in slow motion as their hands ooze through the thick gelatin. Trillian looks sick, trembles in fear. TRILLIAN What is it? FINNEGAN A meat locker. TRILLIAN We can't just leave them here. Canton looks like he's about to throw up, he starts backing away, heading for a side hatch. CANTON I can. In the womb, a Tentacle suddenly approaches a sexy young LADY. The Lady tries to back-pedal away, but because of the gelatin, it's like one of those nightmares where you can only move in slow motion. The FEELERS GRIP her naked thigh. She tries to scream, but her face is already starting to constrict, her whole body is being paralyzed. Pantucci is so horrified he's about to cry. PANTUCCI Oh no...oh God please no. The TENTACLE-SAC gloms onto the Lady's forehead. THROUGH THE SAC we can SEE her SKIN MELTING. The only thing she can move are her EYES, which are bugging-out in absolute horror as she is imbibed alive. Our heroes are frozen in fear. Until the Lady's EYES LIQUEFY. Trillian burries her head in Finnegan's shoulder, trying to shut out the horror. FINNEGAN We can't do anything for them... Let's go... He begins to lead her toward the hatch...when her eyes recognized the old lady with the orchid in her hair. The old lady seems to see her too. Her hands read out, IMPLORING. Her mouth silently shapes the words: HELP ME! Just as a tentacle comes creeping toward her. TRILLIAN NOOO!! Her rage rises. She hefts her rifle, and starts blasting away. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) You won't get her!! You won't!! Spitting FLAMES and SMOKE. The BULLETS IMPACT the gelatin. BLASTING IT AWAY. But the bullets only manage to go about twenty feet into the thick shit before gliding to a stop. GELATIN EXPLODES all over the place. TRACER HOLES STREAK through the stuff. But all the bullets are sliding short. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) Finnegan...do something!! Please!! Finnegan looks around and spots the place in the ceiling where most of the Tentacles are coming from. Their long TAILS WIGGLE down from a massive clutter of pipes. A bas-relief of horror. Finnegan reaches over and yanks two thermite grenades off Hanover's utility belt. HANOVER Finnegan, No!!! ...bites the pins and spits them out. FINNEGAN Eat this. He chucks the grenades up into the strange WRITHING FRESCO, safely clear of the passengers. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) FIRE IN THE HOLE! Pantucci and Hanover throw themselves to the floor. Finnegan pulls Trillian down, covering her. BA-WOOM! GELATIN SPRAYS EVERYWHERE. CUT TO: 105 FUJI MARU - SAME TIME 105 A loud, creepy, suction-like SOUND is HEARD, that strange pitter- patter of little feet running across the hull. Then the HULL begins to MOAN and CREAK from an UNSEEN PRESSURE. CUT TO: 106 MID HULL - NIGHT 106 All the MOVEMENT STOPS. The remaining TENTACLES VANISH into the machinery. Pantucci, and Hanover look up from the floor, covered in slime. Finnegan and Trillian also look up...and then look at each other face to face...inches apart. Dripping with slime. FINNEGAN Looking good... TRILLIAN You should talk... Then the machinery shuts down. The engines go dead. ALL SOUND CUTS OUT. An expectant hush. Somewhere, WATER DRIPS... WE GO EXTREMELY CLOSE ON Trillian's EYES. Pantucci's EYES. Hanover's EYES. Finnegan's EYES. The air is riddled with ominous expectation. And that's when the HULL BEGINS TO TORQUE. RIVETS POP and SNAP. WATER SPRAYS. METAL BUCKLES. 107 SHOT: 107 At the far end of the ship, part of the LOWER BOW RIPS OPEN! AND A WALL OF WATER RUSHES IN. FLOOD CITY! Finnegan's eyes widen as he sees (MODEL SHOT) the massive WAVE OF WATER CRASHING TOWARDS THEM. RIPPING OUT PIPES, DUCTS, WALLS, EQUIPMENT and EVERYTHING in front of it. FINNEGAN GO! GO! GO! They all hightail it for hatches. Finnegan and Trillian make it into one hatch. Hanover and Pantucci make it into another. WATER CRASHES and SPRAYS behind them. CUT TO: 108 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 108 Massive AIR BUBBLES EXPLODE out from under the bow. CUT TO: 109 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 109 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH up and down every passageway. And a CLAXTON RINGS, in accelerating tones, giving a frenetic urgency to ALL OF THE FOLLOWING SCENES: 110 A PASSAGEWAY: 110 WATER BLASTS through a hatch and CHASES Finnegan and Trillian down a passageway. They jag left at an intersection -- WATER BLASTS through the hatch directly in front of them. FINNEGAN We're going to sink! We've got to get on deck! They backtrack. Trillian's now in the lead. They HAUL ASS down a hallway. WATER ROARING IN from everywhere behind them. All of the watertight HATCHES begin to hydraulically CLOSE. Trillian and Finnegan JAG into a hatch. It's a small room. The hatch in front of them closes. WATER BLASTS in behind them. SWEEPS them off their feet. The ROOM quickly starts to FILL UP. Trillian pulls frantically at the hatch. CUT TO: 111 NARROW PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 111 Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through knee-high water. Pantucci stumbles into the water, frantically scrambles up. He looks back -- UNDER THE WATER, INKY FORMS hurl themselves down the passageway right towards him. Pantucci YELPS, and splashes away. CUT TO: 112 SUBMERGING ROOM - NIGHT 112 Trillian and Finnegan pull with all their might on a tiny portal. Finnegan tries to insert the blade of his knife in the crack. TRILLIAN So how do you get from the Bronx to the South China sea? FINNEGAN You quit high school, lie about your age, join the navy, and next thing you know, four years are up and you need a way to make a living... The knife blade slips into the crack. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) I'll break the seal! Pull. He yanks the blade. Trillian pulls. The seal pops. The portal flies open. Waist-high in water, Trillian sticks her arm out, tries to get her shoulder out, but there's no chance in hell of that. TRILLIAN Too small! She pulls her arm out. And a TENTACLE LUNGES IN. Just missing Trillian. It SPLASHES under the water. GRABS Finnegan's ankle. Pulls him under. FINNEGAN sticks the barrel of his gun underwater and OPENS FIRE. WATER EXPLODES. The Tentacle recoils. And rips itself back out the porthole. Trillian SLAMS the PORTHOLE SHUT and dogs it tight. The WATER QUICKLY RISES. CUT TO: 113 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 113 Pantucci and Hanover hauling ass. Hanover pulls out his last two Thermite grenades. Pantucci panics and grabs for them. PANTUCCI Gimme one! Gimme one! He knocks both of them out of Hanover's hands. They DISAPPEAR under the water. HANOVER You idiot! They quickly fumble around in the water, trying to find them. A TENTACLE BLASTS around the corner. Partially obscured by the wave in front of it. Heading right for them. Hanover finds the two grenades. Gives one to Pantucci. They rip the pins out and toss the grenades behind them. Then HAUL ASS faster. The Tentacle right behind them. A BEAT. And then the GRENADES EXPLODE, BA-WOOM! BA-WOOM! CUT TO: 114 FUJI MARY - NIGHT 114 The storm hammers the deck. Canton staggers out onto the RAIN SLICKED DECK just in time to see -- A HOLE BEING BLOWN OUT the side of the Fuji Maru's HULL. BUBBLES continue to EXPLODE OUT from under the bow. CANTON Oh my God, it's going to sink. Then slowly, Canton gets a gleam in his eye, now thrilled. CANTON (CONT'D) It's going to sink. CUT TO: 115 SUBMERGED ROOM - NIGHT 115 Finnegan and Trillian are getting banged around the frothy WATER as it quickly RISES. Now only inches from the ceiling. Trapped. They're about to drown. Finnegan keeps looking around, trying to figure a way out. TRILLIAN I was so goddamn close, Finnegan! So goddamn close to my island... I could almost taste the sand... FINNEGAN Keep tasting... Finnegan shoves the pulse rifle to the ceiling. And blasts away until part of the ceiling falls out and into the water. There's just enough room between two metal beams to get out. The rising WATER SHOVES them up through the hole. CUT TO: 116 PASSAGEWAY - NIGHT 116 Side-by-side, Hanover and Pantucci quickly slog their way through waist-high water. They round a corner and look back -- INKY FORMS SLOSH around the corner. Heading right for them. They slog faster. PANTUCCI They're catchin' up! They're catchin' up! We gotta slow 'em down! HANOVER Feed them. That'll slow them down. A black STRIATED MUSCLE ROILS out of the foamy water, then quickly VANISHES under it, heading straight for them. PANTUCCI Feed 'em?!! Okay! All right! Feed 'em what? WHAT ARE WE GONNA FEED 'EM?! Hanover takes his pistol and SHOOTS Pantucci in the leg, BLAM! Pantucci SCREAMS. FALLS into the water. Hanover RUNS on. Pantucci doesn't even have time to deal with the pain. He starts SCRAMBLING through the water. UNDERWATER, the INKY FORMS RACE AFTER HIM. Only meters away. Pantucci throws himself into the opening of a dumbwaiter. SLAMS the DOOR SHUT. The TENTACLE ATTACKS the door. WORMING its way across the surface, trying to find a way inside. Pantucci is scared beyond his pain. Pushing back as far as he can against the rear wall, he sees the control button. He presses the up arrow. The dumbwaiter starts to move. CUT TO: 117 FUJI MARU REAR DECK - DAY 117 The Saipan is still bobbing behind the Fuji Maru. But the HARPOON HOOK, which holds the tow-line and is embedded into the rear deck of the ship, is starting to PRY LOOSE. It JERKS and BUCKS against the metal wall. Canton doesn't notice this as he slips and slides his way up to the railing. He sees the Saipan and smiles. Then he looks off at -- 118 ISLAND 118 rising out of the ocean. About a mile away. Canton starts to climb over the railing. And that's when the HARPOON HOOK RIPS FREE. WHIZZES FORWARD. And IMPALES Canton's LEG. He SCREAMS. Tries to spin free. The hook hangs onto his leg for a long, agonizing BEAT as Canton continues to SCREAM. Then the HOOK RIPS FREE, grabs the METAL RAILING and starts TEARING IT off the deck. Canton drops to the deck, holding his leg and whimpering in pain. And then he sees it -- 119 SPEEDBOAT 119 dangling from its harness down on the watersports platform. 120 TO SCENE 120 Canton starts to crawl for it. Moaning and bleeding. CUT TO: 121 CRYSTAL POOL DECK - NIGHT 121 Finnegan and Trillian race up onto the pool deck. Passing beneath a colorful NEON SIGN which READS: "THE FUJI MARU - YOUR FUN SHIP" In the dark, Trillian trips. She falls to the slippery, waterlogged deck, and SCREAMS... TRILLIAN EEEEEYYYYYAAAAHHHH! ...clawing at her face... Finnegan pulls her hands from her face...and the thing that attached itself there...a small squid from the shattered aquarium. TRILLIAN (CONT'D) (freaked) Ah...ah...ah... Tries to catch her breath. FINNEGAN It's OK...it's not one of them... it's from the aquarium...it's... And then it dawns on Finnegan. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's not them...it's it... TRILLIAN What? FINNEGAN You know what kind of force it took to rip open the bow of this ship? A million little things like this... He holds up the squid. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...can't exert that kind of pressure... And the way it tracked us? A million little things don't carry portable phones to coordinate positions... What's chasing us... it's one...thing...one giant... thing. SMASH CUT TO: 122 ARIAL POV - MATTE FX SHOT - NIGHT 122 ...looking down on the Fuji Maru from high up in the air. Beneath the ENTIRE SHIP is an enormous, undulating BLACK SHADOW. A massive monster from the deep. CUT TO: 123 CASINO - NIGHT 123 RED WARNING LIGHTS FLASH. The CLAXTON RINGS. Off to one side of a wall, behind the bar, the dumbwaiter door opens, and Pantucci tumbles out, looks around, and then hears... HANOVER (V.O.) Help!! Help!! Pantucci limps around the bar, down a row of one armed bandits... rounds a corner, comes face-to-face with Hanover. Hanover's eyes are filled with terror and despair. His face is badly constricted. His body paralyzed. He clings to a black-jack table as a Tentacle-Sac drinks its way up his leg. It's already to his hip. He grasps desperately for his pistol, just beyond his reach on the floor. This guy ain't gonna survive. PANTUCCI YELPS and quickly back away, eyes wide, totally tense. He looks around, sees that there's only one Tentacle, and it's completely occupied with devouring Hanover. Pantucci is wigged, but manages to lock eyes with Hanover. Then he looks at the Sac, filled with regurgitated flesh. PANTUCCI ...even you don't deserve this. Pantucci picks up Hanover's pistol. Then slowly, cautiously, he creeps forward, and sticks the gun into Hanover's TWITCHING HAND. PANTUCCI (CONT'D) I'm sorry man... He turns and quickly limps off. Hanover's EYES look down at the gun in his hand. Then, with all the strength he has left, he slowly, painfully, turns the pistol so it points at his head. CLOSE ON: Hanover's trembling FINGER. As it slowly squeezes the trigger. He want to kill himself. Needs to hill himself. He squeezes harder. The TRIGGER DEPRESSES! -- CLICK! The gun is empty. Hanover's mouth opens in a horrible, silent scream. CUT TO: 124 REAR DECK - SAME TIME 124 Finnegan and Trillian race out onto the rear deck just as the HARPOON HOOK finishes TEARING the railing off the ship. The HOOK, the TOW- LINE, and the ENTIRE RAILING DROP over the side and fall OUT OF SIGHT. The TWO BOATS are now UNCOUPLED. Finnegan reels at the rain soaked sky. FINNEGAN Will somebody give me a break here? And that's when Finnegan and Trillian hear the SOUND of a HYDRAULIC HOIST. They look over -- 125 AT THE WATERSPORTS PLATFORM: 125 The speedboat is being hydraulically lowered into the water. Canton sits inside, fiddling with the ignition. ANGLE ON: Trillian and Finnegan racing down the spiral stairs leading to the watersports platform. TRILLIAN Wait! Stop! The boat touches down into the water. CANTON I'd like to but I have an appointment with my insurance broker! He HITS the HOIST-RELEASE BUTTON. The speedboat breaks free. Canton HITS the IGNITION. The boat's ENGINE ROARS. CANTON (CONT'D) Life takes the damndest turns, doesn't it? He red-lines the THROTTLE. The SPEEDBOAT HAULS ASS away from the cruiseliner. Canton steers for the island. Smiling. ANGLE ON: Trillian IN HER RAGE... TRILLIAN You son of a bitch!! She grabs Finnegan's pulse rifle, hefts it to her shoulder... FINNEGAN Look! He forces her to look in the distance. Their POV. The island. TRILLIAN Oh my god! Oh my god! How do we do it? How do we get there? FINNEGAN Not like him. Finnegan points to the water...and an INKY PSEUDOPOD FORM racing after the speedboat underwater. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) It's the engine...it can hear the engine...it goes for the loudest sound... The Tentacle quickly picks up speed, going faster and faster, getting closer and closer, stretching further and further. Suddenly, behind them, a METALLIC THRASHING SOUND is HEARD. They turn around and look -- The hook, the tow-line, and the entire railing have dropped down onto the watersports platform and are tangled up around the two jet skis, trying to tear free -- The Saipan is still clinging by its fingernails to the Fuji Maru! Finnegan races over to a WINCH and grabs the winch- line. CUT TO: 126 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 126 Canton, smiling brightly, peers at the approaching island through the speedboat's windscreen. So relieved he sings to himself, from the operetta H.M.S. PINAFORE. CANTON Oh we sail the ocean blue, and our mighty ship's a beauty. We are strong men, yes it's true, and responsive to our duty... When...YANK!!...the SPEEDBOAT is GRABBED from below, practically exploding as it DISINTEGRATES into TWO PIECES. Canton is PROPELLED through the windscreen and onto the hood. CUT TO: 127 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 127 Finnegan struggles to clip the winch-line onto the tow-line, hanging precariously over the edge of the ship, clip in one hand, winch-line in the other. The whole METAL MESS is BUCKING and TWISTING and SCREECHING. His every joint is being ripped out of socket as he strains to get the clip on the line before the entire rig tears away into the sea. With one last heroic effort of will and grit, he snaps the clip in place just as it all BREAKS LOOSE. One of the JET SKIS and the ENTIRE RAILING are RIPPED over the side and fall down into the ocean. Finnegan is also YANKED over the side, but he manages to hold on by his fingers, dangling precariously. FINNEGAN Hit it! Hit it! The HOOK and the TOW-LINE drop -- then SNAP TAUGHT as the winch-line holds them tight. Trillian throws the start lever on the winch. The WINCH KICKS ON and starts reeling in the Saipan. Finnegan tries to crawl up on the deck, exhausted. Trillian reaches down and pulls him the rest of the way up. He half collapses on top of her. TRILLIAN You know, Finnegan, I'm starting to believe what you said about you not being born to die on a luxury liner. Despite the grimness of their position, the closeness of their bodies is...a turn on...to both of them...and then a SCREAM from the sea. They look in the direction of... CUT TO: 128 SPEEDBOAT - NIGHT 128 Canton is pinned to the hood of the speedboat, his face shredded by glass, his leg mangled, screaming as his panicked eyes watch a TENTACLE slowly squirm across the hood toward him, it's hideous feelers writhe and arch. Canton backs away from it as far as he can. Another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up next to him. Canton crawls away from that one. Its Feelers and Suckers unsheathe, dripping mucus. Canton's eyes widen, horrified. Then another TENTACLE SQUIRMS up. Canton crawls to the center of the hood. And another TENTACLE. Canton has nowhere to go. The Tentacles close in on him. CANTON No! No! No! All the tentacles rise over him, about to descend. CANTON (CONT'D) NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! CUT TO: 129 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 129 Finnegan and Trillian race for all they are worth, clamber over the side of the Fuji Maru, dropping to the deck of the Saipan. CUT TO: 130 SAIPAN - NIGHT 130 Finnegan and Trillian slowly clamber through the hold, waist deep in water, on edge, eyes wide, watching for any sign of trouble. It's quiet in here. Maybe too quiet. TRILLIAN (quietly) Finnegan... FINNEGAN Yeah... TRILLIAN ...the minute you start your engines ...it's going to kill us, isn't it? They step up to one of the big CRATES. Finnegan starts SMASHING it with the butt of his pulse-rifle. The CRATE BURST OPEN. REVEALING the WARHEAD of the torpedo. Trillian is stunned. FINNEGAN Not unless we kill it first. Finnegan SMASHES more of the CRATE, it falls apart, REVEALING the entire torpedo. He hands her his pulse rifle. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) Anything moves, you shoot. Finnegan starts to yank open the top plates of the missile head. Trillian looks around nervously. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) There's not much horsepower left in the engines, but there's enough noise...once this baby's set...I'll rev it up...that slimy bastard will come for it like candy... TRILLIAN If you blow up your boat, how are we going to get to the island? FINNEGAN Jet ski...there's one left up there. The plate comes loose. Revealing a gaggle of wires, and parts. FINNEGAN (CONT'D) ...let's see, it was red wire cross compressor blue wire...or blue cross red? He starts to fiddle with the wires. -- Suddenly, there's a LOUD SLOSHING SOUND right behind them! CRATES TOPPLE! More pulse rifles spill out. Trillian spins, ready to blast away with the pulse rifle, to... PANTUCCI Don't shoot!! Don't shoot!! FINNEGAN Just the man I wanted to see. On this puppy here, you remember if it's red to blue or blue to red... He refers to the wires. PANTUCCI Not even a Joey, I'm glad to see you? Joey, what happened to your leg? FINNEGAN Joey, you want to get sucked out by a giant fucking mutated squid? PANTUCCI (fast) Red cross over to blue double blue ...is that what it is? A squid? FINNEGAN Squid...squid like...squid type... it's got tentacles, a feed sac... probably one central nervous processor somewhere...what the hell do I know is going on deep down in the ocean...there's all sorts of shit we've never seen...eighty foot clams...60 foot sharks...I'm just guessing...can you get me more juice out of Hercules...fast? PANTUCCI For juice, I gotta rebuild. That's not fast. TRILLIAN How about noise? Can you get noise? We don't need speed, just noise, right? FINNEGAN Right... PANTUCCI Can somebody tell me what the object of the exercise is here? FINNEGAN Seafood salad. (to Trillian) You ever operate a jet ski? TRILLIAN (nervous) You want ME to go up there? FINNEGAN Not unless you can wire a missile or fix an engine. TRILLIAN And what if I run into one of those things? Finnegan tosses her a pulse rifle from the overturned crate. FINNEGAN Don't forget the safety. She hits the safety, slams a shell into chamber... TRILLIAN Don't take too long...I'm not planning on being on the menu tonight. ...and exits. PANTUCCI (razzing) I've never seen you so congenial with a member of the opposite sex... The two of you got a nice patter going...got a nice rapport... FINNEGAN And you got 10 minutes before this thing livens up a boring evening. Finnegan attaches a wire to a sprocket. A red light starts to blink on the warhead. CUT TO: 131 FUJI MARU - NIGHT 131 It is VERY DARK. The RAIN is getting worse. THUNDER RUMBLES. LIGHTNING FLASHES. The FUJI MARU MOANS and CREAKS. BUBBLES EXPLODE from beneath it. The Saipan rocks against her hull. Trillian clambers along the TILTING RAILING, heading for the watersports platform. Her gorgeous eyes shift nervously. TRILLIAN I'm going to be OK...I'm going to be OK... The ship's METAL HULL SCREECHES. The SEAWATER BUBBLES and GURGLES. From somewhere deep inside the ship, we HEAR that loud primordial YOWL again. Trillian freezes, her heart double beats. She looks around, really scared. CUT TO: 132 SAIPAN'S HOLD - NIGHT 132 The missile is on a hoist being pushed forward by Pantucci and Finnegan toward a GAPING HOLE in the PORT BOW. PANTUCCI You know what I think? I think our luck has just about run shit out... FINNEGAN A little to the left... PANTUCCI I think we gotta stop floating from one fucked up situation to the next... FINNEGAN Line it up now, nice and easy... The missile head is right in line with the hole in the bow. PANTUCCI I'm telling you, man, we got to give the future some serious thought. FINNEGAN I have been. PANTUCCI And what have you come up with? FINNEGAN How does an island sound to you? Pantucci looks at Finnegan quizically. This is news to him. CUT TO: 133 SAIPAN - NIGHT 133 The TIP of the WARHEAD creeps out through the hole. The body of the missile is just a hair too wide, which is good, because it jams itself nice and tight into the hole. CUT TO: 134 WATERSPORT PLATFORM - NIGHT 134 Trillian takes the tarp off the remaining jet ski. Pushes the swivel arm that holds it out over the railing. The PLATFORM TILTS! Trillian loses her balance. Almost goes over the

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Finn. Meet HOLLEY SHIFTWELL. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. FINN That's because it's air-cooled. HOLLEY I'm Agent Shiftwell, Holley Shiftwell from the Tokyo Station. I have a message from London. FINN Not here. (LOUDLY) You must try the canapes on the mezzanine! He moves her onto an elevator. The doors close on them. IN THE ELEVATOR, GOING UP. FINN So the lab boys analyzed the photo I sent? What did they learn about the camera? HOLLEY It appears to be a standard television camera. They said if you could get closer photos next time, that would be great. FINN This was London's message? 27. HOLLEY Oh -- no, no. No sir. Um, the oil platforms you were on? Turns out they're sitting on the biggest oil reserve in the world. FINN How did we miss that? HOLLEY They'd been scrambling everyone's satellites. The Americans actually discovered it just before you did. They placed an agent on that platform, under deep cover. He was able to get a photo of the car who's running the entire operation. The doors OPEN and they exit onto the Mezzanine. FINN Who is it? Has anyone seen the photo yet? HOLLEY No, not yet. The American is here tonight to pass it to you. He'll signal you when he's ready. FINN GOOD --- Finn suddenly STOPS COLD. FINN Oh no. Professor Zundapp is visible below them. He talks with a few Pacers and Gremlins. Finn quickly retreats into the shadows. Holley follows suit. HOLLEY What is it? FINN Change of plan. You're meeting the American. HOLLEY What, me? 28. FINN Those thugs down there were on the oil platform. If they see me, the whole mission is compromised. HOLLEY No, no. I'm technical, you see. I'm in Diagnostics. I'm not a field agent. FINN You are now. CUT TO: MATER as he grabs a drink, keeps moving. MATER I'll take one of them. He snatches it, drops it in the back where we now see a large assortment of drinks balanced. MATER Never know which one McQueen'll have a hankering for. He approaches a sushi bar. MATER Hey, what you got here that's free? How about that pistachio ice cream? He refers to wasabi, of course. SUSHI CHEF No, no. Wasabi. MATER Oh, same ol', same ol'. What's up with you? That looks delicious. The chef starts to carve a small scoop aside for Mater. MATER Uh, a little more, please. It is free, right? (the chef adds more) Keep it coming. A little more. Come on, let's go, it's free! You're getting there... Scoop scoop! The chef gives in. Scoops a baseball-sized ball out. 29. MATER There you go. Now THAT's a scoop of ice cream. SUSHI CHEF (in Japanese, subtitles) My condolences. CUT BACK TO: MILES AXLEROD - He's now nearly done with his intros. MILES AXLEROD ... and now, our last competitor --- Number 95, Lightning McQueen! MCQUEEN approaches the microphone, flashes his headlights. MCQUEEN Thank you so much for having us, Sir Axlerod. I really look forward to racing. This is a great opportunity. MILES AXLEROD Oh, the pleasure is all ours, Lightning. You and your team bring excellence and professionalism to this competition. As if on cue, Mater arrives with a piercing scream of pain. Everyone turns as he charges head first toward the stage, making a bee-line for that FOUNTAIN. MATER Somebody get me water! He laps up water from the fountain like a diabetic cat. MATER (LAPPING WATER) Sweet relief... Miles Axlerod is shocked. The crowd can't believe it. Francesco cackles. Mater, now sated, approaches the mic. MATER (to the crowd) Whatever you do, do not eat the free pistachio ice cream. It has turned! MCQUEEN Sir Axlerod, I can explain. This is Mater. 30. MILES AXLEROD I know him. This is the bloke that called into the television show. (TO MATER) You're the one I have to thank. MATER No, thank you. This trip's been amazing. MILES AXLEROD (TO MCQUEEN) He's a little excited, isn't he? TILT DOWN to reveal a pool of oil beneath Mater. MCQUEEN Mater! MATER But wait, I... oh, shoot. McQueen quickly pulls Mater aside, out of earshot of Miles Axlerod and the others. McQueen is beside himself. MCQUEEN Mater, you have to get a hold of yourself. You're making a scene. MATER But I never leak oil. Never. MCQUEEN Go take care of yourself right now. Mater drives off. ON MATER - MOMENTS LATER He drives through the party, frantic. MATER Coming through! Excuse me, leakin' oil. Where's the bathroom? Thank you. I gotta go! Someone points Mater down a hallway. He whips around the CORNER --- --- and STOPS. Finds himself in front of TWO BATHROOM DOORS, neither of which clearly indicate MALE or FEMALE. 31. MATER (CONFUSED) What the... Mater chooses one, drives inside. A SHRIEK is heard and Mater zips out. MATER Sorry ladies! He heads into the other door --- CUT TO: INT. MEN'S ROOM - NIGHT Mater rolls in, still `holding it in' like a kid. MATER I never leak I never leak I never leak... He sees someone leaving a stall. He heads in. IN THE STALL - Mater enters, looks up. MATER Wowee... The stall is a complicated apparatus with buttons and lights. High-tech Japanese. It suddenly GRABS MATER, hoists him up as if he's going to get an oil change. MATER What in the--- A Japanese style cartoon CARICATURE appears on a TV MONITOR, followed by images of waterfalls and rivers. MATER (GIGGLING) Hey, that tickles. The caricature starts talking in Japanese. Suddenly WATER FIRES UP underneath Mater's undercarriage, goosing him. He freaks out. OUTSIDE THE STALL - With Mater's yells audible we see a GREMLIN enter, furtive. Suddenly, inexplicably, his frame BREAKS APART like an egg, revealing an AMERICAN MUSCLE CAR underneath. The pieces of the Gremlin disappear under him, clearly his disguise. This is ROD REDLINE - American Agent. 32. ROD REDLINE Okay, McMissile. I'm here. It's time for the drop. INT. PARTY - SAME HOLLEY, rolls along by herself. Nervous. DING! Her rearview monitor springs to life. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) The American has activated his tracking beacon. FINN (OVER RADIO) Roger that. Move in. INT. BATHROOM - SAME Rod Redline, waiting at a sink, feels a presence behind him. GREM and ACER have entered, hesitate briefly when they see Rod Redline. Rod Redline, careful, slides a gun out of his tire. He is suddenly CHARGED by the AMCs --- Rod SPINS AROUND and gets a shot off but is SLAMMED HEAD FIRST. A TIGHT, CLOSE-QUARTERS FIGHT begins --- IN THE STALL - Mater, still TRAPPED, is now being SCRUBBED as if in a car wash. He is helpless. OUTSIDE THE STALL - Rod is being pulverized. Just when he scrambles away from one car, the other one takes over. IN THE STALL - Mater is mercifully released, but when he backs out --- --- Rod Redline is THROWN INTO MATER'S STALL DOOR, crunching it and sending Mater --- --- BACK INTO THE CLUTCHES of the insane toilet. INT. PARTY - SAME Holley isolates the tracking beacon's location in the party. HOLLEY Oh, you've got to be joking. FINN What's the problem, Shiftwell? HOLLEY He's in the loo. 33. FINN So go in! HOLLEY I can't just go into the men's loo. FINN Time is of the essence, Shiftwell. INT. BATHROOM - OUTSIDE THE STALL Rod Redline is in bad shape. He backs away, betrays a look of concern. He's in trouble here. ACER burns rubber, ready to finish him off. Just as he shifts into DRIVE --- --- MATER'S STALL DOOR KICKS OPEN, knocking ACER out. Mater jumps out, face-to-face GREM. MATER (out of breath) Whatever you do, I would not go in there. The door SWINGS shut, revealing the pulverized Acer. MATER A Gremlin and a Pacer! Rod Redline, now behind Mater and sensing an opportunity here, quickly produces A SMALL DEVICE. MATER (to Grem and Acer) No offense to your makes and models, but you guys break down harder than my cousin Betsy after she got left at the --- Rod Redline, surreptitiously attaches the device to Mater's undercarriage. MATER (as he's goosed) --- altar! He spins around, sees Rod Redline for the first time. MATER Are you okay? ROD REDLINE I'm fine. 34. GREM Hey. Tow truck. Mater turns back to Grem and Acer. GREM We'd like to get to our private business here, if you don't mind. MATER Oh, yeah. Don't let me get in the way of your "private business." Oh! A little advice: When you hear her giggle and see that waterfall, you best press that green button. GREM Thank you. MATER It's to adjust the temperature. ACER Got it. MATER Remember it's in Celsius, not Fahrenheit. GREM AND ACER Get outta here! MATER Alright then. Mater exits, leaving Rod Redline to a now even angrier Grem and Acer. EXT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER Holley arrives at the door. She takes a breath, is about to enter when Mater EXITS. MATER Excuse me, ma'am. He passes her, expelling some exhaust in the process. Holley's rearview tracking confirms that the device is on him. MATER (TO HIMSELF) Dadgum pistachio ice cream. 35. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) This cannot be him. FINN (OVER RADIO) Is he American? MATER (driving off, to himself) Look out, ladies. Mater's fittin' to get funky! HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Extremely. FINN (OVER RADIO) Then it's him. It's settled. Holley takes one more nervous breath, quickly closes the distance between her and Mater, cuts him off. He is forced to STOP. HOLLEY Hello. MATER Well, hello. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. MATER Well of course it doesn't. That's `cause it's air-cooled! HOLLEY (RELIEVED) Perfect. I'm from the Tokyo Station OF THE--- MATER Course, Karmann Ghia's weren't the only ones. Besides the Beetles you had your Type-3 Squarebacks, with the pancake motors... HOLLEY Yeah. Okay, I get it--- MATER ... And before both of them, there's the Type-2 buses - my buddy Fillmore's one of them. 36. HOLLEY Listen! We should find somewhere more private. MATER Uh, gee. Don't you think that's a little, uh --- HOLLEY (NERVOUS ENERGY) You're right. Impossible to know which areas here are compromised. So, when can I see you again? MATER Well, let's see. Tomorrow I'll be out there at the races. HOLLEY Got it. We'll rendezvous then. INT. PARTY - MOMENTS LATER Mater returns to his team, lost in thought. MCQUEEN There you are. Where have you been? MATER What's a rendezvous? LUIGI It's like a date. MATER A date?! MCQUEEN Mater, what's going on? MATER Well, what's going on is I've got me a date tomorrow. Guido makes a crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido don't believe you. MATER Well, believe it. My new girlfriend just said so. Hey, there she is. Mater points out Holley, who's within earshot. 37. MATER (YELLING) Hey! Hey lady! Holley, caught in plain view, DRIVES OFF. MATER See ya tomorrow! Guido makes another crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido still don't believe you. EXT. SHIPYARD - THE DOCKS - TOKYO NIGHT An industrial dock, outside of the city proper. INT. SHIPYARD - NIGHT Rod Redline dangles from a car magnet. He's been beaten up, clings to consciousness. GREM (O.S.) I gotta admit --- Grem, Acer, and a bunch of nasty looking troublemakers look up at Rod amidst crates and shipping containers. GREM --- you tricked us real good. ACER And we don't like being tricked. Rod Redline laughs to himself. ACER Hey, what's so funny? ROD REDLINE Well, you know, I was just wearing a disguise. You guys are stuck looking like that. This doesn't help him. They DROP HIM onto a TREADMILL, lock him down. A container is wheeled forward and Rod is plied with Allinol brand gasoline. ROD REDLINE Allinol? Thanks, fellas. I hear this stuff is good for you. 38. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (O.S.) So you think. The Professor emerges from the darkness, behind Rod. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Allinol by itself is good for you. Zundapp hits a button and the TREADMILL starts Rod's wheels spinning at a high rate of speed. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP But after microscopic examination, I have found that it has one small weakness. When hit with an electromagnetic pulse, it becomes extremely dangerous. GREM SMILE --- Grem pushes a World Grand Prix CAMERA - the same one that was in the box back at the oil derrick. He points it at Rod Redline. GREM --- for the camera. ROD REDLINE Is that all you want? I got a whole act. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You were very interested in this camera on the oil platform. Now you will witness what it really does. ROD REDLINE Whatever you say, Professor. Acer pushes a TV MONITOR toward Rod. On it, surveillance footage from the party. Clearly, they were watching and recording him there. ACER You talked up a lot of cars last night. Which one's your associate? ROD REDLINE Your mother. Oh no, I'm sorry. It was your sister. You know, I can't tell them apart these days. 39. GREM (HAD ENOUGH) Could I start it now, Professor? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Fifty percent power. (to Rod Redline) This camera is actually an electromagnetic pulse emitter. ACER (re: a girl on the TV) What about her? Did you give it to her? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The Allinol is now heating to a boil, dramatically expanding, causing the engine block to crack under the stress, forcing oil into the combustion chamber. Rod Redline's engine starts to CRACK and BREAK. ACER (re: a guy on the TV) How about him? You talk to him? ROD REDLINE (to Professor Zundapp) What do I care? I can replace an engine block. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You may be able to, but after full impact of the pulse, unfortunately, there will be nothing to replace. ACER How about him? Does he have it? The monitor reveals MATER, rolling out of the bathroom and down the hall. Rod Redline, seeing this, does the world's most subtle double take. We caught it, but there's no way anyone else in the room could have --- PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP That's him. He's the one. GREM Roger that, Professor Z. 40. ROD REDLINE No! As Grem turns up the machine even MORE, the Professor makes a call. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (INTO PHONE) Yes sir. We believe the infiltrator has passed along sensitive information. (beat, listening) I will take care of it before any damage can be done. The Professor hangs up, turns to the room. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The project is still on schedule. You will find this second agent --- Zundapp kicks the camera's power into the RED. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP --- and kill him. On the MONITOR - With Mater's frozen image on the screen we see Rod EXPLODE in the reflection. EXT. JAPAN - DAY Over television pre-roll of Japan: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Japan. Land of the rising sun. Where ancient tradition meets modern technology. Welcome to the inaugural running of the World Grand Prix. ON OUR ANNOUNCERS as they introduce themselves: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER I'm Brent Mustangburger, here with racing legends Darrell Cartrip and David Hobbscap. There's never been a competition like this before. SHOTS OF THE PITS as the racers fuel up. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) First, Allinol, making its debut tonight as the required fuel for all these great champions. (MORE) 41. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) (CONT'D) Second, the course itself, and it's like nothing we've ever seen. David, how exactly does this competition work? DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Well, Brent, all three of these street courses are classic round- the-house racetracks. OUTLINES OF THREE RACE COURSES are shown. They're labeled Japan, Italy and England, and are different in shape and size. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) This means that the LMP and Formula cars should break out of the gate in spectacular fashion. SHOTS OF THE RACERS as they weave up the track, practicing. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Look for Francesco Bernoulli in particular to lead early. SHOTS OF Francesco, featured in an inset. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) And with a series of technical turns throughout --- MORE SHOTS of the course, now highlighting the tech turns. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) GT and Touring cars like Spain's Miguel Camino should make up some ground but I doubt it'll be enough to stop Francesco from absolutely running away with it. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Woah, now just hold your horsepower. You're forgetting the most important factor here. That early dirt track section of the course! The dirt is supposed to be the great equalizer in this race. GRAPHICS OF THE COURSES now isolate a stretch after the first couple turns, label it "DIRT SECTIONS." 42. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) French Rally car Raoul aRoule is counting on a big boost headed through there. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) And don't forget Lightning McQueen! His mentor, the Hudson Hornet, was one of the greatest dirt track racers of all time. In my opinion, McQueen is the best all-around racer in this competition. BACK IN THE STUDIO DAVID HOBBSCAP Really, Darrell, I think you need to clean your windshield. You're clearly not seeing this for what it is: Francesco's race to lose. EXT. STARTING LINE - DAY BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) It's time to find out. The racers are locking into the grid --- Engines rev as everyone gets ready to go. Everyone's bright eyed and alert except for McQueen who we find in the back of the grid. He CLOSES his eyes. MCQUEEN (TO HIMSELF) Speed. I am speed. A LAUGH O.S. McQueen opens his eyes. Francesco is next to him on the grid. FRANCESCO Really? You are "speed"? Then Francesco is triple speed. (closes his eyes) Francesco. Is. Triple speed. Francesco likes this, McQueen. It's really getting him into the zone! MCQUEEN He is so getting beat today. The starting lights click down from RED to YELLOW to GREEN. The race begins. Francesco quickly grabs the lead. He's pulling away within seconds. 43. ON PIT ROW - We TRACK PAST as the various Crew Chiefs on their crash carts bark orders to their racers. We end on Team McQueen. No Crew Chief, just a solid looking team. SARGE His suspension stats look good. LUIGI Tire pressure is excellent. FILLMORE He's got plenty of fuel. MATER And he's awesome! CUT TO: The same view of Mater but now THROUGH A TELESCOPIC DISPLAY. Reveal Finn and Holley watching from high above in a downtown office building, behind reflective glass. HOLLEY Why is he in the pits? He's so exposed. FINN It's his cover. One of the best I've seen, too. Look at the detail on that rust. It must have cost him a fortune. HOLLEY But why hasn't he contacted us yet? FINN There's probably heat on him. Be patient. HOLLEY Right, of course. He'll signal us when he can. FINN And then we find out who's behind all this. ON THE TRACK - VARIOUS SHOTS OF THE RACE through Tokyo as Francesco extends his lead and McQueen attempts to make up ground. 44. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - Mater watches the monitors, sees them approaching the dirt section. MATER McQueen! It's time to make your move. Get on the outside and show 'em what Doc done taught you. MCQUEEN (OVER RADIO) Ten four, Mater. ON THE TRACK - Francesco hits the dirt section and loses all control. He SLAMS to a halt, his tires getting no traction. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Francesco is brought to a screeching halt! MCQUEEN skids into view, turning right to go left, passing Francesco, followed by other cars --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Lightning McQueen is the first to take advantage. And just like that, folks, Francesco's lead is left in the dust. MCQUEEN Nice call, Mater. Keep it up! McQueen now leads the pack, zooming out of the dirt now starting to relax. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Who-hoo! Man, McQueen looks happier than a rollbar at a demolition derby! ON PAVED ROAD AGAIN - MOMENTS LATER The field of cars thunders into a tunnel. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Everyone's jostling for position as we hit the asphalt again. Francesco crests the hill, in last place. He bites down, determined, then CHASES. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco lost a lot of momentum in the dirt. He's got some serious work ahead of him if he wants to get back in this race. 45. VARIOUS SHOTS OF TOKYO as the racers move through the Rainbow Bridge. Bit by bit, Francesco ekes his way toward the front, toward Lightning McQueen as we CUT TO --- --- A ROOFTOP, and a VIEW THROUGH THE WGP CAMERA LENS. Grem and Acer are manning this one. They focus it on the racers as they approach. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (OVER RADIO) It is time. GREM Roger that. ON THE TRACK - A racer (Miguel Camino) suddenly PLUMES WITH SMOKE and skids out. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Oh! Miguel Camino has blown an engine! BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Very unusual, Darrell. He's been so consistent all year. Camino quickly pits, passing McQueen's pit where Mater is visible. ON GREM AND ACER, watching from above. GREM You gotta be kidding me. ACER What is it? GREM It's that tow truck from the bathroom. ACER The one from the bathroom? GREM Yeah, the one the American Agent passed the device to. ACER What about him? GREM What about him? He's in the pits! 46. ACER Not for long. Acer exits, with purpose. ON FINN AND HOLLEY, still in their office hideaway. Holley's onboard computer flashes an ALERT. HOLLEY Hold on. I think I've got something. FINN What is it? HOLLEY The Pacer from the party last night. She's spotted Acer, moving swiftly forward. HOLLEY Cross-referencing with the photos from the oil derricks... Yep. His VIN numbers match. FINN Anyone with him? He won't be alone. HOLLEY Conducting analysis on the target. The computer finds more and more bad guy Pacers and Gremlins are in the crowd. HOLLEY He's not the only one here. Three... five... they're everywhere. And they're all closing in on... oh no. We PAN OVER to see it's MATER. HOLLEY Finn? Finn, where are you? She turns. He's GONE, leaving only an open window. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of the pits now! IN MCQUEEN'S PIT. A car WHIPS BY O.S. 47. MATER Wow! Some of them fellers is really loud. HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Can you hear me? Over. MATER Uh, what? HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Get out of the pit now. Do you hear me? Mater realizes this girl has somehow broken into his radio. MATER (INTO RADIO) Hey, I know you. You're that girl from the party last night. You wanna do our date right now? ON THE TRACK - McQueen boxes out Francesco, holds his slim lead, but barely. MCQUEEN Guys, a little too much chatter. Let's keep this line clear. BOOM! A racer behind McQueen suddenly expels black smoke, skids out of control. ON GREM - laughing. That was clearly his handiwork. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - SAME HOLLEY (ON MATER'S RADIO) There's no time for messing about. You've got to get out of the pits. MATER Is there gonna be cable where you is so I can watch the rest of the race? ON HOLLEY - Watching from the downtown building. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) You're running out of time! FINN (OVER RADIO) They're coming, Shiftwell. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Yes, I know. 48. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of there. HOLLEY (TO FINN) I'm trying. (TO MATER) Get out now! We CUT BACK TO --- --- MATER. He gives in, exits the pit. MATER Well, all right but I usually like to have a proper detailing done before I meet a lady friend. He moves toward the back PIT DOOR, is about to open it. OUTSIDE THE PITS - ACER and another Pacer approach McQueen's pit door on the other side. Ready to pounce. The doors OPEN, REVEALING --- --- Finn, holding a fire extinguisher. ACER Finn McMissile? But you're dead! FINN Then this shouldn't hurt at all. He empties the extinguisher in their eyes, speeds past. They try and follow, but have been blinded. One of them crashes right into a COP. ON FINN - Already on the move, along a side street. FINN Miss Shiftwell? ON HOLLEY - Tracking everything on a grid map. Mater looks like Pac Man, weaving through the streets as bad guys close in all around him. HOLLEY I've got him in the back alleys east of the garages. Multiple assailants are closing in quickly. FINN (OVER RADIO) Keep him moving. I'm on my way. ON MATER - He turns a corner, sees a flower shop. 49. MATER Hey, new lady friend? You like flowers? ON THE TRACK - McQueen, hearing this, is taken aback. MCQUEEN What? ON MATER - Slowing at the flower shop. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go 'in' anywhere. Just keep moving. MATER Stay outside. Gotcha. ON THE TRACK MCQUEEN Outside? McQueen drifts outside allowing Francesco to slip past! FRANCESCO Grazie and arrivaderci! DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) I cannot believe what I just saw, Brent. That was a bonehead move. You don't open up the inside like that! IN THE BACK ALLEYS - As Mater moves on he's followed by Pacers and Gremlins. Suddenly --- --- CABLES whip in front of them, pulling over flower vending machines and sending the shop's owners into a frenzy. They direct their attention to the AMCs, who try and explain. ON FINN, admiring his handiwork as he appears. Just as he turns to leave he's BROADSIDED and pushed INTO A DARK ALLEY. IN THE ALLEY - Finn finds himself boxed by two Pacers and pushed toward --- --- ACER, who now holds a FLAME THROWER. ACER This time I'm gonna make sure you stay dead. He hits the flame. WHOOOSSSH!! 50. ON ANOTHER STREET - Mater clicks along, still looking for Holley. Just as he passes the alley entrance where Finn stares down death: HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) You're doing brilliantly. Now just stay focused. MATER What's that? You want me to head toward that ruckus? Mater turns INTO the alley. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go down that street! IN THE ALLEY - Finn, now nearly pushed completely into the flame thrower, leaps into the air. He FIGHTS BACK, using his wheels, axle, indeed his entire car frame as if he were human, kicking and tossing and shooting his enemies. Mater witnesses the whole thing. MATER Wow! A live karate demonstration! ON THE TRACK - McQueen, now playing catch-up again, scowls. MCQUEEN Stop it, Mater. Just sign off. IN THE BACK ALLEY - Finn polishes off the AMCs by firing a bullet into a gas main line, causing an EXPLOSION that tosses Acer through the air where he lands in a NOODLE SHOP'S SIGN. ON THE TRACK - The end of the race is nigh --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) They're bumper to bumper as they approach the finish line! The Formula car gets there first. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco's the winner, McQueen's number two! IN THE ALLEY - Finn heaves breaths, surveys his damage. MATER That was cool! Hey, can I get your autograph? 51. Mater approaches when a MASS OF RACE FANS burst out a door, momentarily blocking Mater's view of Finn. Once the fans have past, Finn has disappeared. MATER Hey, where'd he go? HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) Our rendezvous has been jeopardized. Keep the device safe. We'll be in touch. MATER Dadgum, did I miss our date? EXT. PRESS STAGE - LATER Post race press conference. Francesco is center stage. DARRELL CARTRIP Francesco, over here! Hey, what was your strategy today? FRANCESCO Strategia? Francesco needs no strategy, it's very simple. You start the race, wait for Lightning McQueen to choke, pass him, then win. Francesco always wins. It's boring. McQueen, waiting in the wings, rolls his eyes. He suddenly notices something O.S. McQueen's P.O.V. - It's MATER, appearing from a side street, moving toward the pits, oblivious of the press conference. DARRELL CARTRIP (TO FRANCESCO) I gotta tell you, dude. You were in trouble for awhile. That dirt track section had you crawling! As McQueen SNEAKS AWAY --- FRANCESCO To truly crush one's dream, you must first raise their hopes very high. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT GARAGE - Mater looks around for everyone as McQueen approaches. 52. MCQUEEN Mater. MATER Hey McQueen! What happened? Is the race over? You won, right? MCQUEEN Mater, why were you yelling things at me while I was racing? MATER Yelling? Oh, you thought... that's funny right there. Nah, see that's `cause I seen these two fellers doing some sort of karate street performance. It was nutso. One of them even had a flamethrower --- MCQUEEN A flamethrower? What are you talking about? I don't understand. Where were you? MATER Going to meet my date. MCQUEEN Your date? MATER She started talking to me as a voice in my head, telling me where to go --- MCQUEEN What? MATER Wait a minute -- I didn't screw you up, did I? MCQUEEN I lost the race because of you! MATER Well, I'm sorry. I didn't mean --- MCQUEEN An imaginary girlfriend, flamethrowers. This is exactly why I don't bring you along to these things. 53. MATER Maybe if I, I don't know, talked to somebody and explained what happened I could help. MCQUEEN I don't need your help. I don't want your help. PRESS (O.S.) Hey, there he is!! The press finds McQueen, swarms him. Mater is pushed backwards as the questions fly again. PRESS - McQueen, you had it in the bag! - Yeah, what happened? MCQUEEN I made a mistake. But I can assure you, it won't happen again. On Mater. He takes this badly. MCQUEEN Look, guys. We know what the problem is and we've taken care of it. SMASH TO: OVER FOOTAGE OF FRANCESCO and various other highlights: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER Lightning McQueen loses in the last lap to Francesco Bernoulli in the first race of the World Grand Prix and three, count em, three cars

attempts

How many times the word 'attempts' appears in the text?

Finn. Meet HOLLEY SHIFTWELL. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. FINN That's because it's air-cooled. HOLLEY I'm Agent Shiftwell, Holley Shiftwell from the Tokyo Station. I have a message from London. FINN Not here. (LOUDLY) You must try the canapes on the mezzanine! He moves her onto an elevator. The doors close on them. IN THE ELEVATOR, GOING UP. FINN So the lab boys analyzed the photo I sent? What did they learn about the camera? HOLLEY It appears to be a standard television camera. They said if you could get closer photos next time, that would be great. FINN This was London's message? 27. HOLLEY Oh -- no, no. No sir. Um, the oil platforms you were on? Turns out they're sitting on the biggest oil reserve in the world. FINN How did we miss that? HOLLEY They'd been scrambling everyone's satellites. The Americans actually discovered it just before you did. They placed an agent on that platform, under deep cover. He was able to get a photo of the car who's running the entire operation. The doors OPEN and they exit onto the Mezzanine. FINN Who is it? Has anyone seen the photo yet? HOLLEY No, not yet. The American is here tonight to pass it to you. He'll signal you when he's ready. FINN GOOD --- Finn suddenly STOPS COLD. FINN Oh no. Professor Zundapp is visible below them. He talks with a few Pacers and Gremlins. Finn quickly retreats into the shadows. Holley follows suit. HOLLEY What is it? FINN Change of plan. You're meeting the American. HOLLEY What, me? 28. FINN Those thugs down there were on the oil platform. If they see me, the whole mission is compromised. HOLLEY No, no. I'm technical, you see. I'm in Diagnostics. I'm not a field agent. FINN You are now. CUT TO: MATER as he grabs a drink, keeps moving. MATER I'll take one of them. He snatches it, drops it in the back where we now see a large assortment of drinks balanced. MATER Never know which one McQueen'll have a hankering for. He approaches a sushi bar. MATER Hey, what you got here that's free? How about that pistachio ice cream? He refers to wasabi, of course. SUSHI CHEF No, no. Wasabi. MATER Oh, same ol', same ol'. What's up with you? That looks delicious. The chef starts to carve a small scoop aside for Mater. MATER Uh, a little more, please. It is free, right? (the chef adds more) Keep it coming. A little more. Come on, let's go, it's free! You're getting there... Scoop scoop! The chef gives in. Scoops a baseball-sized ball out. 29. MATER There you go. Now THAT's a scoop of ice cream. SUSHI CHEF (in Japanese, subtitles) My condolences. CUT BACK TO: MILES AXLEROD - He's now nearly done with his intros. MILES AXLEROD ... and now, our last competitor --- Number 95, Lightning McQueen! MCQUEEN approaches the microphone, flashes his headlights. MCQUEEN Thank you so much for having us, Sir Axlerod. I really look forward to racing. This is a great opportunity. MILES AXLEROD Oh, the pleasure is all ours, Lightning. You and your team bring excellence and professionalism to this competition. As if on cue, Mater arrives with a piercing scream of pain. Everyone turns as he charges head first toward the stage, making a bee-line for that FOUNTAIN. MATER Somebody get me water! He laps up water from the fountain like a diabetic cat. MATER (LAPPING WATER) Sweet relief... Miles Axlerod is shocked. The crowd can't believe it. Francesco cackles. Mater, now sated, approaches the mic. MATER (to the crowd) Whatever you do, do not eat the free pistachio ice cream. It has turned! MCQUEEN Sir Axlerod, I can explain. This is Mater. 30. MILES AXLEROD I know him. This is the bloke that called into the television show. (TO MATER) You're the one I have to thank. MATER No, thank you. This trip's been amazing. MILES AXLEROD (TO MCQUEEN) He's a little excited, isn't he? TILT DOWN to reveal a pool of oil beneath Mater. MCQUEEN Mater! MATER But wait, I... oh, shoot. McQueen quickly pulls Mater aside, out of earshot of Miles Axlerod and the others. McQueen is beside himself. MCQUEEN Mater, you have to get a hold of yourself. You're making a scene. MATER But I never leak oil. Never. MCQUEEN Go take care of yourself right now. Mater drives off. ON MATER - MOMENTS LATER He drives through the party, frantic. MATER Coming through! Excuse me, leakin' oil. Where's the bathroom? Thank you. I gotta go! Someone points Mater down a hallway. He whips around the CORNER --- --- and STOPS. Finds himself in front of TWO BATHROOM DOORS, neither of which clearly indicate MALE or FEMALE. 31. MATER (CONFUSED) What the... Mater chooses one, drives inside. A SHRIEK is heard and Mater zips out. MATER Sorry ladies! He heads into the other door --- CUT TO: INT. MEN'S ROOM - NIGHT Mater rolls in, still `holding it in' like a kid. MATER I never leak I never leak I never leak... He sees someone leaving a stall. He heads in. IN THE STALL - Mater enters, looks up. MATER Wowee... The stall is a complicated apparatus with buttons and lights. High-tech Japanese. It suddenly GRABS MATER, hoists him up as if he's going to get an oil change. MATER What in the--- A Japanese style cartoon CARICATURE appears on a TV MONITOR, followed by images of waterfalls and rivers. MATER (GIGGLING) Hey, that tickles. The caricature starts talking in Japanese. Suddenly WATER FIRES UP underneath Mater's undercarriage, goosing him. He freaks out. OUTSIDE THE STALL - With Mater's yells audible we see a GREMLIN enter, furtive. Suddenly, inexplicably, his frame BREAKS APART like an egg, revealing an AMERICAN MUSCLE CAR underneath. The pieces of the Gremlin disappear under him, clearly his disguise. This is ROD REDLINE - American Agent. 32. ROD REDLINE Okay, McMissile. I'm here. It's time for the drop. INT. PARTY - SAME HOLLEY, rolls along by herself. Nervous. DING! Her rearview monitor springs to life. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) The American has activated his tracking beacon. FINN (OVER RADIO) Roger that. Move in. INT. BATHROOM - SAME Rod Redline, waiting at a sink, feels a presence behind him. GREM and ACER have entered, hesitate briefly when they see Rod Redline. Rod Redline, careful, slides a gun out of his tire. He is suddenly CHARGED by the AMCs --- Rod SPINS AROUND and gets a shot off but is SLAMMED HEAD FIRST. A TIGHT, CLOSE-QUARTERS FIGHT begins --- IN THE STALL - Mater, still TRAPPED, is now being SCRUBBED as if in a car wash. He is helpless. OUTSIDE THE STALL - Rod is being pulverized. Just when he scrambles away from one car, the other one takes over. IN THE STALL - Mater is mercifully released, but when he backs out --- --- Rod Redline is THROWN INTO MATER'S STALL DOOR, crunching it and sending Mater --- --- BACK INTO THE CLUTCHES of the insane toilet. INT. PARTY - SAME Holley isolates the tracking beacon's location in the party. HOLLEY Oh, you've got to be joking. FINN What's the problem, Shiftwell? HOLLEY He's in the loo. 33. FINN So go in! HOLLEY I can't just go into the men's loo. FINN Time is of the essence, Shiftwell. INT. BATHROOM - OUTSIDE THE STALL Rod Redline is in bad shape. He backs away, betrays a look of concern. He's in trouble here. ACER burns rubber, ready to finish him off. Just as he shifts into DRIVE --- --- MATER'S STALL DOOR KICKS OPEN, knocking ACER out. Mater jumps out, face-to-face GREM. MATER (out of breath) Whatever you do, I would not go in there. The door SWINGS shut, revealing the pulverized Acer. MATER A Gremlin and a Pacer! Rod Redline, now behind Mater and sensing an opportunity here, quickly produces A SMALL DEVICE. MATER (to Grem and Acer) No offense to your makes and models, but you guys break down harder than my cousin Betsy after she got left at the --- Rod Redline, surreptitiously attaches the device to Mater's undercarriage. MATER (as he's goosed) --- altar! He spins around, sees Rod Redline for the first time. MATER Are you okay? ROD REDLINE I'm fine. 34. GREM Hey. Tow truck. Mater turns back to Grem and Acer. GREM We'd like to get to our private business here, if you don't mind. MATER Oh, yeah. Don't let me get in the way of your "private business." Oh! A little advice: When you hear her giggle and see that waterfall, you best press that green button. GREM Thank you. MATER It's to adjust the temperature. ACER Got it. MATER Remember it's in Celsius, not Fahrenheit. GREM AND ACER Get outta here! MATER Alright then. Mater exits, leaving Rod Redline to a now even angrier Grem and Acer. EXT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER Holley arrives at the door. She takes a breath, is about to enter when Mater EXITS. MATER Excuse me, ma'am. He passes her, expelling some exhaust in the process. Holley's rearview tracking confirms that the device is on him. MATER (TO HIMSELF) Dadgum pistachio ice cream. 35. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) This cannot be him. FINN (OVER RADIO) Is he American? MATER (driving off, to himself) Look out, ladies. Mater's fittin' to get funky! HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Extremely. FINN (OVER RADIO) Then it's him. It's settled. Holley takes one more nervous breath, quickly closes the distance between her and Mater, cuts him off. He is forced to STOP. HOLLEY Hello. MATER Well, hello. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. MATER Well of course it doesn't. That's `cause it's air-cooled! HOLLEY (RELIEVED) Perfect. I'm from the Tokyo Station OF THE--- MATER Course, Karmann Ghia's weren't the only ones. Besides the Beetles you had your Type-3 Squarebacks, with the pancake motors... HOLLEY Yeah. Okay, I get it--- MATER ... And before both of them, there's the Type-2 buses - my buddy Fillmore's one of them. 36. HOLLEY Listen! We should find somewhere more private. MATER Uh, gee. Don't you think that's a little, uh --- HOLLEY (NERVOUS ENERGY) You're right. Impossible to know which areas here are compromised. So, when can I see you again? MATER Well, let's see. Tomorrow I'll be out there at the races. HOLLEY Got it. We'll rendezvous then. INT. PARTY - MOMENTS LATER Mater returns to his team, lost in thought. MCQUEEN There you are. Where have you been? MATER What's a rendezvous? LUIGI It's like a date. MATER A date?! MCQUEEN Mater, what's going on? MATER Well, what's going on is I've got me a date tomorrow. Guido makes a crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido don't believe you. MATER Well, believe it. My new girlfriend just said so. Hey, there she is. Mater points out Holley, who's within earshot. 37. MATER (YELLING) Hey! Hey lady! Holley, caught in plain view, DRIVES OFF. MATER See ya tomorrow! Guido makes another crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido still don't believe you. EXT. SHIPYARD - THE DOCKS - TOKYO NIGHT An industrial dock, outside of the city proper. INT. SHIPYARD - NIGHT Rod Redline dangles from a car magnet. He's been beaten up, clings to consciousness. GREM (O.S.) I gotta admit --- Grem, Acer, and a bunch of nasty looking troublemakers look up at Rod amidst crates and shipping containers. GREM --- you tricked us real good. ACER And we don't like being tricked. Rod Redline laughs to himself. ACER Hey, what's so funny? ROD REDLINE Well, you know, I was just wearing a disguise. You guys are stuck looking like that. This doesn't help him. They DROP HIM onto a TREADMILL, lock him down. A container is wheeled forward and Rod is plied with Allinol brand gasoline. ROD REDLINE Allinol? Thanks, fellas. I hear this stuff is good for you. 38. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (O.S.) So you think. The Professor emerges from the darkness, behind Rod. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Allinol by itself is good for you. Zundapp hits a button and the TREADMILL starts Rod's wheels spinning at a high rate of speed. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP But after microscopic examination, I have found that it has one small weakness. When hit with an electromagnetic pulse, it becomes extremely dangerous. GREM SMILE --- Grem pushes a World Grand Prix CAMERA - the same one that was in the box back at the oil derrick. He points it at Rod Redline. GREM --- for the camera. ROD REDLINE Is that all you want? I got a whole act. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You were very interested in this camera on the oil platform. Now you will witness what it really does. ROD REDLINE Whatever you say, Professor. Acer pushes a TV MONITOR toward Rod. On it, surveillance footage from the party. Clearly, they were watching and recording him there. ACER You talked up a lot of cars last night. Which one's your associate? ROD REDLINE Your mother. Oh no, I'm sorry. It was your sister. You know, I can't tell them apart these days. 39. GREM (HAD ENOUGH) Could I start it now, Professor? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Fifty percent power. (to Rod Redline) This camera is actually an electromagnetic pulse emitter. ACER (re: a girl on the TV) What about her? Did you give it to her? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The Allinol is now heating to a boil, dramatically expanding, causing the engine block to crack under the stress, forcing oil into the combustion chamber. Rod Redline's engine starts to CRACK and BREAK. ACER (re: a guy on the TV) How about him? You talk to him? ROD REDLINE (to Professor Zundapp) What do I care? I can replace an engine block. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You may be able to, but after full impact of the pulse, unfortunately, there will be nothing to replace. ACER How about him? Does he have it? The monitor reveals MATER, rolling out of the bathroom and down the hall. Rod Redline, seeing this, does the world's most subtle double take. We caught it, but there's no way anyone else in the room could have --- PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP That's him. He's the one. GREM Roger that, Professor Z. 40. ROD REDLINE No! As Grem turns up the machine even MORE, the Professor makes a call. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (INTO PHONE) Yes sir. We believe the infiltrator has passed along sensitive information. (beat, listening) I will take care of it before any damage can be done. The Professor hangs up, turns to the room. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The project is still on schedule. You will find this second agent --- Zundapp kicks the camera's power into the RED. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP --- and kill him. On the MONITOR - With Mater's frozen image on the screen we see Rod EXPLODE in the reflection. EXT. JAPAN - DAY Over television pre-roll of Japan: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Japan. Land of the rising sun. Where ancient tradition meets modern technology. Welcome to the inaugural running of the World Grand Prix. ON OUR ANNOUNCERS as they introduce themselves: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER I'm Brent Mustangburger, here with racing legends Darrell Cartrip and David Hobbscap. There's never been a competition like this before. SHOTS OF THE PITS as the racers fuel up. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) First, Allinol, making its debut tonight as the required fuel for all these great champions. (MORE) 41. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) (CONT'D) Second, the course itself, and it's like nothing we've ever seen. David, how exactly does this competition work? DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Well, Brent, all three of these street courses are classic round- the-house racetracks. OUTLINES OF THREE RACE COURSES are shown. They're labeled Japan, Italy and England, and are different in shape and size. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) This means that the LMP and Formula cars should break out of the gate in spectacular fashion. SHOTS OF THE RACERS as they weave up the track, practicing. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Look for Francesco Bernoulli in particular to lead early. SHOTS OF Francesco, featured in an inset. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) And with a series of technical turns throughout --- MORE SHOTS of the course, now highlighting the tech turns. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) GT and Touring cars like Spain's Miguel Camino should make up some ground but I doubt it'll be enough to stop Francesco from absolutely running away with it. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Woah, now just hold your horsepower. You're forgetting the most important factor here. That early dirt track section of the course! The dirt is supposed to be the great equalizer in this race. GRAPHICS OF THE COURSES now isolate a stretch after the first couple turns, label it "DIRT SECTIONS." 42. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) French Rally car Raoul aRoule is counting on a big boost headed through there. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) And don't forget Lightning McQueen! His mentor, the Hudson Hornet, was one of the greatest dirt track racers of all time. In my opinion, McQueen is the best all-around racer in this competition. BACK IN THE STUDIO DAVID HOBBSCAP Really, Darrell, I think you need to clean your windshield. You're clearly not seeing this for what it is: Francesco's race to lose. EXT. STARTING LINE - DAY BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) It's time to find out. The racers are locking into the grid --- Engines rev as everyone gets ready to go. Everyone's bright eyed and alert except for McQueen who we find in the back of the grid. He CLOSES his eyes. MCQUEEN (TO HIMSELF) Speed. I am speed. A LAUGH O.S. McQueen opens his eyes. Francesco is next to him on the grid. FRANCESCO Really? You are "speed"? Then Francesco is triple speed. (closes his eyes) Francesco. Is. Triple speed. Francesco likes this, McQueen. It's really getting him into the zone! MCQUEEN He is so getting beat today. The starting lights click down from RED to YELLOW to GREEN. The race begins. Francesco quickly grabs the lead. He's pulling away within seconds. 43. ON PIT ROW - We TRACK PAST as the various Crew Chiefs on their crash carts bark orders to their racers. We end on Team McQueen. No Crew Chief, just a solid looking team. SARGE His suspension stats look good. LUIGI Tire pressure is excellent. FILLMORE He's got plenty of fuel. MATER And he's awesome! CUT TO: The same view of Mater but now THROUGH A TELESCOPIC DISPLAY. Reveal Finn and Holley watching from high above in a downtown office building, behind reflective glass. HOLLEY Why is he in the pits? He's so exposed. FINN It's his cover. One of the best I've seen, too. Look at the detail on that rust. It must have cost him a fortune. HOLLEY But why hasn't he contacted us yet? FINN There's probably heat on him. Be patient. HOLLEY Right, of course. He'll signal us when he can. FINN And then we find out who's behind all this. ON THE TRACK - VARIOUS SHOTS OF THE RACE through Tokyo as Francesco extends his lead and McQueen attempts to make up ground. 44. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - Mater watches the monitors, sees them approaching the dirt section. MATER McQueen! It's time to make your move. Get on the outside and show 'em what Doc done taught you. MCQUEEN (OVER RADIO) Ten four, Mater. ON THE TRACK - Francesco hits the dirt section and loses all control. He SLAMS to a halt, his tires getting no traction. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Francesco is brought to a screeching halt! MCQUEEN skids into view, turning right to go left, passing Francesco, followed by other cars --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Lightning McQueen is the first to take advantage. And just like that, folks, Francesco's lead is left in the dust. MCQUEEN Nice call, Mater. Keep it up! McQueen now leads the pack, zooming out of the dirt now starting to relax. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Who-hoo! Man, McQueen looks happier than a rollbar at a demolition derby! ON PAVED ROAD AGAIN - MOMENTS LATER The field of cars thunders into a tunnel. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Everyone's jostling for position as we hit the asphalt again. Francesco crests the hill, in last place. He bites down, determined, then CHASES. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco lost a lot of momentum in the dirt. He's got some serious work ahead of him if he wants to get back in this race. 45. VARIOUS SHOTS OF TOKYO as the racers move through the Rainbow Bridge. Bit by bit, Francesco ekes his way toward the front, toward Lightning McQueen as we CUT TO --- --- A ROOFTOP, and a VIEW THROUGH THE WGP CAMERA LENS. Grem and Acer are manning this one. They focus it on the racers as they approach. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (OVER RADIO) It is time. GREM Roger that. ON THE TRACK - A racer (Miguel Camino) suddenly PLUMES WITH SMOKE and skids out. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Oh! Miguel Camino has blown an engine! BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Very unusual, Darrell. He's been so consistent all year. Camino quickly pits, passing McQueen's pit where Mater is visible. ON GREM AND ACER, watching from above. GREM You gotta be kidding me. ACER What is it? GREM It's that tow truck from the bathroom. ACER The one from the bathroom? GREM Yeah, the one the American Agent passed the device to. ACER What about him? GREM What about him? He's in the pits! 46. ACER Not for long. Acer exits, with purpose. ON FINN AND HOLLEY, still in their office hideaway. Holley's onboard computer flashes an ALERT. HOLLEY Hold on. I think I've got something. FINN What is it? HOLLEY The Pacer from the party last night. She's spotted Acer, moving swiftly forward. HOLLEY Cross-referencing with the photos from the oil derricks... Yep. His VIN numbers match. FINN Anyone with him? He won't be alone. HOLLEY Conducting analysis on the target. The computer finds more and more bad guy Pacers and Gremlins are in the crowd. HOLLEY He's not the only one here. Three... five... they're everywhere. And they're all closing in on... oh no. We PAN OVER to see it's MATER. HOLLEY Finn? Finn, where are you? She turns. He's GONE, leaving only an open window. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of the pits now! IN MCQUEEN'S PIT. A car WHIPS BY O.S. 47. MATER Wow! Some of them fellers is really loud. HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Can you hear me? Over. MATER Uh, what? HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Get out of the pit now. Do you hear me? Mater realizes this girl has somehow broken into his radio. MATER (INTO RADIO) Hey, I know you. You're that girl from the party last night. You wanna do our date right now? ON THE TRACK - McQueen boxes out Francesco, holds his slim lead, but barely. MCQUEEN Guys, a little too much chatter. Let's keep this line clear. BOOM! A racer behind McQueen suddenly expels black smoke, skids out of control. ON GREM - laughing. That was clearly his handiwork. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - SAME HOLLEY (ON MATER'S RADIO) There's no time for messing about. You've got to get out of the pits. MATER Is there gonna be cable where you is so I can watch the rest of the race? ON HOLLEY - Watching from the downtown building. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) You're running out of time! FINN (OVER RADIO) They're coming, Shiftwell. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Yes, I know. 48. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of there. HOLLEY (TO FINN) I'm trying. (TO MATER) Get out now! We CUT BACK TO --- --- MATER. He gives in, exits the pit. MATER Well, all right but I usually like to have a proper detailing done before I meet a lady friend. He moves toward the back PIT DOOR, is about to open it. OUTSIDE THE PITS - ACER and another Pacer approach McQueen's pit door on the other side. Ready to pounce. The doors OPEN, REVEALING --- --- Finn, holding a fire extinguisher. ACER Finn McMissile? But you're dead! FINN Then this shouldn't hurt at all. He empties the extinguisher in their eyes, speeds past. They try and follow, but have been blinded. One of them crashes right into a COP. ON FINN - Already on the move, along a side street. FINN Miss Shiftwell? ON HOLLEY - Tracking everything on a grid map. Mater looks like Pac Man, weaving through the streets as bad guys close in all around him. HOLLEY I've got him in the back alleys east of the garages. Multiple assailants are closing in quickly. FINN (OVER RADIO) Keep him moving. I'm on my way. ON MATER - He turns a corner, sees a flower shop. 49. MATER Hey, new lady friend? You like flowers? ON THE TRACK - McQueen, hearing this, is taken aback. MCQUEEN What? ON MATER - Slowing at the flower shop. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go 'in' anywhere. Just keep moving. MATER Stay outside. Gotcha. ON THE TRACK MCQUEEN Outside? McQueen drifts outside allowing Francesco to slip past! FRANCESCO Grazie and arrivaderci! DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) I cannot believe what I just saw, Brent. That was a bonehead move. You don't open up the inside like that! IN THE BACK ALLEYS - As Mater moves on he's followed by Pacers and Gremlins. Suddenly --- --- CABLES whip in front of them, pulling over flower vending machines and sending the shop's owners into a frenzy. They direct their attention to the AMCs, who try and explain. ON FINN, admiring his handiwork as he appears. Just as he turns to leave he's BROADSIDED and pushed INTO A DARK ALLEY. IN THE ALLEY - Finn finds himself boxed by two Pacers and pushed toward --- --- ACER, who now holds a FLAME THROWER. ACER This time I'm gonna make sure you stay dead. He hits the flame. WHOOOSSSH!! 50. ON ANOTHER STREET - Mater clicks along, still looking for Holley. Just as he passes the alley entrance where Finn stares down death: HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) You're doing brilliantly. Now just stay focused. MATER What's that? You want me to head toward that ruckus? Mater turns INTO the alley. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go down that street! IN THE ALLEY - Finn, now nearly pushed completely into the flame thrower, leaps into the air. He FIGHTS BACK, using his wheels, axle, indeed his entire car frame as if he were human, kicking and tossing and shooting his enemies. Mater witnesses the whole thing. MATER Wow! A live karate demonstration! ON THE TRACK - McQueen, now playing catch-up again, scowls. MCQUEEN Stop it, Mater. Just sign off. IN THE BACK ALLEY - Finn polishes off the AMCs by firing a bullet into a gas main line, causing an EXPLOSION that tosses Acer through the air where he lands in a NOODLE SHOP'S SIGN. ON THE TRACK - The end of the race is nigh --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) They're bumper to bumper as they approach the finish line! The Formula car gets there first. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco's the winner, McQueen's number two! IN THE ALLEY - Finn heaves breaths, surveys his damage. MATER That was cool! Hey, can I get your autograph? 51. Mater approaches when a MASS OF RACE FANS burst out a door, momentarily blocking Mater's view of Finn. Once the fans have past, Finn has disappeared. MATER Hey, where'd he go? HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) Our rendezvous has been jeopardized. Keep the device safe. We'll be in touch. MATER Dadgum, did I miss our date? EXT. PRESS STAGE - LATER Post race press conference. Francesco is center stage. DARRELL CARTRIP Francesco, over here! Hey, what was your strategy today? FRANCESCO Strategia? Francesco needs no strategy, it's very simple. You start the race, wait for Lightning McQueen to choke, pass him, then win. Francesco always wins. It's boring. McQueen, waiting in the wings, rolls his eyes. He suddenly notices something O.S. McQueen's P.O.V. - It's MATER, appearing from a side street, moving toward the pits, oblivious of the press conference. DARRELL CARTRIP (TO FRANCESCO) I gotta tell you, dude. You were in trouble for awhile. That dirt track section had you crawling! As McQueen SNEAKS AWAY --- FRANCESCO To truly crush one's dream, you must first raise their hopes very high. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT GARAGE - Mater looks around for everyone as McQueen approaches. 52. MCQUEEN Mater. MATER Hey McQueen! What happened? Is the race over? You won, right? MCQUEEN Mater, why were you yelling things at me while I was racing? MATER Yelling? Oh, you thought... that's funny right there. Nah, see that's `cause I seen these two fellers doing some sort of karate street performance. It was nutso. One of them even had a flamethrower --- MCQUEEN A flamethrower? What are you talking about? I don't understand. Where were you? MATER Going to meet my date. MCQUEEN Your date? MATER She started talking to me as a voice in my head, telling me where to go --- MCQUEEN What? MATER Wait a minute -- I didn't screw you up, did I? MCQUEEN I lost the race because of you! MATER Well, I'm sorry. I didn't mean --- MCQUEEN An imaginary girlfriend, flamethrowers. This is exactly why I don't bring you along to these things. 53. MATER Maybe if I, I don't know, talked to somebody and explained what happened I could help. MCQUEEN I don't need your help. I don't want your help. PRESS (O.S.) Hey, there he is!! The press finds McQueen, swarms him. Mater is pushed backwards as the questions fly again. PRESS - McQueen, you had it in the bag! - Yeah, what happened? MCQUEEN I made a mistake. But I can assure you, it won't happen again. On Mater. He takes this badly. MCQUEEN Look, guys. We know what the problem is and we've taken care of it. SMASH TO: OVER FOOTAGE OF FRANCESCO and various other highlights: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER Lightning McQueen loses in the last lap to Francesco Bernoulli in the first race of the World Grand Prix and three, count em, three cars

satellites

How many times the word 'satellites' appears in the text?

Finn. Meet HOLLEY SHIFTWELL. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. FINN That's because it's air-cooled. HOLLEY I'm Agent Shiftwell, Holley Shiftwell from the Tokyo Station. I have a message from London. FINN Not here. (LOUDLY) You must try the canapes on the mezzanine! He moves her onto an elevator. The doors close on them. IN THE ELEVATOR, GOING UP. FINN So the lab boys analyzed the photo I sent? What did they learn about the camera? HOLLEY It appears to be a standard television camera. They said if you could get closer photos next time, that would be great. FINN This was London's message? 27. HOLLEY Oh -- no, no. No sir. Um, the oil platforms you were on? Turns out they're sitting on the biggest oil reserve in the world. FINN How did we miss that? HOLLEY They'd been scrambling everyone's satellites. The Americans actually discovered it just before you did. They placed an agent on that platform, under deep cover. He was able to get a photo of the car who's running the entire operation. The doors OPEN and they exit onto the Mezzanine. FINN Who is it? Has anyone seen the photo yet? HOLLEY No, not yet. The American is here tonight to pass it to you. He'll signal you when he's ready. FINN GOOD --- Finn suddenly STOPS COLD. FINN Oh no. Professor Zundapp is visible below them. He talks with a few Pacers and Gremlins. Finn quickly retreats into the shadows. Holley follows suit. HOLLEY What is it? FINN Change of plan. You're meeting the American. HOLLEY What, me? 28. FINN Those thugs down there were on the oil platform. If they see me, the whole mission is compromised. HOLLEY No, no. I'm technical, you see. I'm in Diagnostics. I'm not a field agent. FINN You are now. CUT TO: MATER as he grabs a drink, keeps moving. MATER I'll take one of them. He snatches it, drops it in the back where we now see a large assortment of drinks balanced. MATER Never know which one McQueen'll have a hankering for. He approaches a sushi bar. MATER Hey, what you got here that's free? How about that pistachio ice cream? He refers to wasabi, of course. SUSHI CHEF No, no. Wasabi. MATER Oh, same ol', same ol'. What's up with you? That looks delicious. The chef starts to carve a small scoop aside for Mater. MATER Uh, a little more, please. It is free, right? (the chef adds more) Keep it coming. A little more. Come on, let's go, it's free! You're getting there... Scoop scoop! The chef gives in. Scoops a baseball-sized ball out. 29. MATER There you go. Now THAT's a scoop of ice cream. SUSHI CHEF (in Japanese, subtitles) My condolences. CUT BACK TO: MILES AXLEROD - He's now nearly done with his intros. MILES AXLEROD ... and now, our last competitor --- Number 95, Lightning McQueen! MCQUEEN approaches the microphone, flashes his headlights. MCQUEEN Thank you so much for having us, Sir Axlerod. I really look forward to racing. This is a great opportunity. MILES AXLEROD Oh, the pleasure is all ours, Lightning. You and your team bring excellence and professionalism to this competition. As if on cue, Mater arrives with a piercing scream of pain. Everyone turns as he charges head first toward the stage, making a bee-line for that FOUNTAIN. MATER Somebody get me water! He laps up water from the fountain like a diabetic cat. MATER (LAPPING WATER) Sweet relief... Miles Axlerod is shocked. The crowd can't believe it. Francesco cackles. Mater, now sated, approaches the mic. MATER (to the crowd) Whatever you do, do not eat the free pistachio ice cream. It has turned! MCQUEEN Sir Axlerod, I can explain. This is Mater. 30. MILES AXLEROD I know him. This is the bloke that called into the television show. (TO MATER) You're the one I have to thank. MATER No, thank you. This trip's been amazing. MILES AXLEROD (TO MCQUEEN) He's a little excited, isn't he? TILT DOWN to reveal a pool of oil beneath Mater. MCQUEEN Mater! MATER But wait, I... oh, shoot. McQueen quickly pulls Mater aside, out of earshot of Miles Axlerod and the others. McQueen is beside himself. MCQUEEN Mater, you have to get a hold of yourself. You're making a scene. MATER But I never leak oil. Never. MCQUEEN Go take care of yourself right now. Mater drives off. ON MATER - MOMENTS LATER He drives through the party, frantic. MATER Coming through! Excuse me, leakin' oil. Where's the bathroom? Thank you. I gotta go! Someone points Mater down a hallway. He whips around the CORNER --- --- and STOPS. Finds himself in front of TWO BATHROOM DOORS, neither of which clearly indicate MALE or FEMALE. 31. MATER (CONFUSED) What the... Mater chooses one, drives inside. A SHRIEK is heard and Mater zips out. MATER Sorry ladies! He heads into the other door --- CUT TO: INT. MEN'S ROOM - NIGHT Mater rolls in, still `holding it in' like a kid. MATER I never leak I never leak I never leak... He sees someone leaving a stall. He heads in. IN THE STALL - Mater enters, looks up. MATER Wowee... The stall is a complicated apparatus with buttons and lights. High-tech Japanese. It suddenly GRABS MATER, hoists him up as if he's going to get an oil change. MATER What in the--- A Japanese style cartoon CARICATURE appears on a TV MONITOR, followed by images of waterfalls and rivers. MATER (GIGGLING) Hey, that tickles. The caricature starts talking in Japanese. Suddenly WATER FIRES UP underneath Mater's undercarriage, goosing him. He freaks out. OUTSIDE THE STALL - With Mater's yells audible we see a GREMLIN enter, furtive. Suddenly, inexplicably, his frame BREAKS APART like an egg, revealing an AMERICAN MUSCLE CAR underneath. The pieces of the Gremlin disappear under him, clearly his disguise. This is ROD REDLINE - American Agent. 32. ROD REDLINE Okay, McMissile. I'm here. It's time for the drop. INT. PARTY - SAME HOLLEY, rolls along by herself. Nervous. DING! Her rearview monitor springs to life. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) The American has activated his tracking beacon. FINN (OVER RADIO) Roger that. Move in. INT. BATHROOM - SAME Rod Redline, waiting at a sink, feels a presence behind him. GREM and ACER have entered, hesitate briefly when they see Rod Redline. Rod Redline, careful, slides a gun out of his tire. He is suddenly CHARGED by the AMCs --- Rod SPINS AROUND and gets a shot off but is SLAMMED HEAD FIRST. A TIGHT, CLOSE-QUARTERS FIGHT begins --- IN THE STALL - Mater, still TRAPPED, is now being SCRUBBED as if in a car wash. He is helpless. OUTSIDE THE STALL - Rod is being pulverized. Just when he scrambles away from one car, the other one takes over. IN THE STALL - Mater is mercifully released, but when he backs out --- --- Rod Redline is THROWN INTO MATER'S STALL DOOR, crunching it and sending Mater --- --- BACK INTO THE CLUTCHES of the insane toilet. INT. PARTY - SAME Holley isolates the tracking beacon's location in the party. HOLLEY Oh, you've got to be joking. FINN What's the problem, Shiftwell? HOLLEY He's in the loo. 33. FINN So go in! HOLLEY I can't just go into the men's loo. FINN Time is of the essence, Shiftwell. INT. BATHROOM - OUTSIDE THE STALL Rod Redline is in bad shape. He backs away, betrays a look of concern. He's in trouble here. ACER burns rubber, ready to finish him off. Just as he shifts into DRIVE --- --- MATER'S STALL DOOR KICKS OPEN, knocking ACER out. Mater jumps out, face-to-face GREM. MATER (out of breath) Whatever you do, I would not go in there. The door SWINGS shut, revealing the pulverized Acer. MATER A Gremlin and a Pacer! Rod Redline, now behind Mater and sensing an opportunity here, quickly produces A SMALL DEVICE. MATER (to Grem and Acer) No offense to your makes and models, but you guys break down harder than my cousin Betsy after she got left at the --- Rod Redline, surreptitiously attaches the device to Mater's undercarriage. MATER (as he's goosed) --- altar! He spins around, sees Rod Redline for the first time. MATER Are you okay? ROD REDLINE I'm fine. 34. GREM Hey. Tow truck. Mater turns back to Grem and Acer. GREM We'd like to get to our private business here, if you don't mind. MATER Oh, yeah. Don't let me get in the way of your "private business." Oh! A little advice: When you hear her giggle and see that waterfall, you best press that green button. GREM Thank you. MATER It's to adjust the temperature. ACER Got it. MATER Remember it's in Celsius, not Fahrenheit. GREM AND ACER Get outta here! MATER Alright then. Mater exits, leaving Rod Redline to a now even angrier Grem and Acer. EXT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER Holley arrives at the door. She takes a breath, is about to enter when Mater EXITS. MATER Excuse me, ma'am. He passes her, expelling some exhaust in the process. Holley's rearview tracking confirms that the device is on him. MATER (TO HIMSELF) Dadgum pistachio ice cream. 35. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) This cannot be him. FINN (OVER RADIO) Is he American? MATER (driving off, to himself) Look out, ladies. Mater's fittin' to get funky! HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Extremely. FINN (OVER RADIO) Then it's him. It's settled. Holley takes one more nervous breath, quickly closes the distance between her and Mater, cuts him off. He is forced to STOP. HOLLEY Hello. MATER Well, hello. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. MATER Well of course it doesn't. That's `cause it's air-cooled! HOLLEY (RELIEVED) Perfect. I'm from the Tokyo Station OF THE--- MATER Course, Karmann Ghia's weren't the only ones. Besides the Beetles you had your Type-3 Squarebacks, with the pancake motors... HOLLEY Yeah. Okay, I get it--- MATER ... And before both of them, there's the Type-2 buses - my buddy Fillmore's one of them. 36. HOLLEY Listen! We should find somewhere more private. MATER Uh, gee. Don't you think that's a little, uh --- HOLLEY (NERVOUS ENERGY) You're right. Impossible to know which areas here are compromised. So, when can I see you again? MATER Well, let's see. Tomorrow I'll be out there at the races. HOLLEY Got it. We'll rendezvous then. INT. PARTY - MOMENTS LATER Mater returns to his team, lost in thought. MCQUEEN There you are. Where have you been? MATER What's a rendezvous? LUIGI It's like a date. MATER A date?! MCQUEEN Mater, what's going on? MATER Well, what's going on is I've got me a date tomorrow. Guido makes a crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido don't believe you. MATER Well, believe it. My new girlfriend just said so. Hey, there she is. Mater points out Holley, who's within earshot. 37. MATER (YELLING) Hey! Hey lady! Holley, caught in plain view, DRIVES OFF. MATER See ya tomorrow! Guido makes another crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido still don't believe you. EXT. SHIPYARD - THE DOCKS - TOKYO NIGHT An industrial dock, outside of the city proper. INT. SHIPYARD - NIGHT Rod Redline dangles from a car magnet. He's been beaten up, clings to consciousness. GREM (O.S.) I gotta admit --- Grem, Acer, and a bunch of nasty looking troublemakers look up at Rod amidst crates and shipping containers. GREM --- you tricked us real good. ACER And we don't like being tricked. Rod Redline laughs to himself. ACER Hey, what's so funny? ROD REDLINE Well, you know, I was just wearing a disguise. You guys are stuck looking like that. This doesn't help him. They DROP HIM onto a TREADMILL, lock him down. A container is wheeled forward and Rod is plied with Allinol brand gasoline. ROD REDLINE Allinol? Thanks, fellas. I hear this stuff is good for you. 38. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (O.S.) So you think. The Professor emerges from the darkness, behind Rod. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Allinol by itself is good for you. Zundapp hits a button and the TREADMILL starts Rod's wheels spinning at a high rate of speed. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP But after microscopic examination, I have found that it has one small weakness. When hit with an electromagnetic pulse, it becomes extremely dangerous. GREM SMILE --- Grem pushes a World Grand Prix CAMERA - the same one that was in the box back at the oil derrick. He points it at Rod Redline. GREM --- for the camera. ROD REDLINE Is that all you want? I got a whole act. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You were very interested in this camera on the oil platform. Now you will witness what it really does. ROD REDLINE Whatever you say, Professor. Acer pushes a TV MONITOR toward Rod. On it, surveillance footage from the party. Clearly, they were watching and recording him there. ACER You talked up a lot of cars last night. Which one's your associate? ROD REDLINE Your mother. Oh no, I'm sorry. It was your sister. You know, I can't tell them apart these days. 39. GREM (HAD ENOUGH) Could I start it now, Professor? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Fifty percent power. (to Rod Redline) This camera is actually an electromagnetic pulse emitter. ACER (re: a girl on the TV) What about her? Did you give it to her? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The Allinol is now heating to a boil, dramatically expanding, causing the engine block to crack under the stress, forcing oil into the combustion chamber. Rod Redline's engine starts to CRACK and BREAK. ACER (re: a guy on the TV) How about him? You talk to him? ROD REDLINE (to Professor Zundapp) What do I care? I can replace an engine block. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You may be able to, but after full impact of the pulse, unfortunately, there will be nothing to replace. ACER How about him? Does he have it? The monitor reveals MATER, rolling out of the bathroom and down the hall. Rod Redline, seeing this, does the world's most subtle double take. We caught it, but there's no way anyone else in the room could have --- PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP That's him. He's the one. GREM Roger that, Professor Z. 40. ROD REDLINE No! As Grem turns up the machine even MORE, the Professor makes a call. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (INTO PHONE) Yes sir. We believe the infiltrator has passed along sensitive information. (beat, listening) I will take care of it before any damage can be done. The Professor hangs up, turns to the room. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The project is still on schedule. You will find this second agent --- Zundapp kicks the camera's power into the RED. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP --- and kill him. On the MONITOR - With Mater's frozen image on the screen we see Rod EXPLODE in the reflection. EXT. JAPAN - DAY Over television pre-roll of Japan: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Japan. Land of the rising sun. Where ancient tradition meets modern technology. Welcome to the inaugural running of the World Grand Prix. ON OUR ANNOUNCERS as they introduce themselves: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER I'm Brent Mustangburger, here with racing legends Darrell Cartrip and David Hobbscap. There's never been a competition like this before. SHOTS OF THE PITS as the racers fuel up. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) First, Allinol, making its debut tonight as the required fuel for all these great champions. (MORE) 41. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) (CONT'D) Second, the course itself, and it's like nothing we've ever seen. David, how exactly does this competition work? DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Well, Brent, all three of these street courses are classic round- the-house racetracks. OUTLINES OF THREE RACE COURSES are shown. They're labeled Japan, Italy and England, and are different in shape and size. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) This means that the LMP and Formula cars should break out of the gate in spectacular fashion. SHOTS OF THE RACERS as they weave up the track, practicing. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Look for Francesco Bernoulli in particular to lead early. SHOTS OF Francesco, featured in an inset. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) And with a series of technical turns throughout --- MORE SHOTS of the course, now highlighting the tech turns. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) GT and Touring cars like Spain's Miguel Camino should make up some ground but I doubt it'll be enough to stop Francesco from absolutely running away with it. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Woah, now just hold your horsepower. You're forgetting the most important factor here. That early dirt track section of the course! The dirt is supposed to be the great equalizer in this race. GRAPHICS OF THE COURSES now isolate a stretch after the first couple turns, label it "DIRT SECTIONS." 42. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) French Rally car Raoul aRoule is counting on a big boost headed through there. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) And don't forget Lightning McQueen! His mentor, the Hudson Hornet, was one of the greatest dirt track racers of all time. In my opinion, McQueen is the best all-around racer in this competition. BACK IN THE STUDIO DAVID HOBBSCAP Really, Darrell, I think you need to clean your windshield. You're clearly not seeing this for what it is: Francesco's race to lose. EXT. STARTING LINE - DAY BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) It's time to find out. The racers are locking into the grid --- Engines rev as everyone gets ready to go. Everyone's bright eyed and alert except for McQueen who we find in the back of the grid. He CLOSES his eyes. MCQUEEN (TO HIMSELF) Speed. I am speed. A LAUGH O.S. McQueen opens his eyes. Francesco is next to him on the grid. FRANCESCO Really? You are "speed"? Then Francesco is triple speed. (closes his eyes) Francesco. Is. Triple speed. Francesco likes this, McQueen. It's really getting him into the zone! MCQUEEN He is so getting beat today. The starting lights click down from RED to YELLOW to GREEN. The race begins. Francesco quickly grabs the lead. He's pulling away within seconds. 43. ON PIT ROW - We TRACK PAST as the various Crew Chiefs on their crash carts bark orders to their racers. We end on Team McQueen. No Crew Chief, just a solid looking team. SARGE His suspension stats look good. LUIGI Tire pressure is excellent. FILLMORE He's got plenty of fuel. MATER And he's awesome! CUT TO: The same view of Mater but now THROUGH A TELESCOPIC DISPLAY. Reveal Finn and Holley watching from high above in a downtown office building, behind reflective glass. HOLLEY Why is he in the pits? He's so exposed. FINN It's his cover. One of the best I've seen, too. Look at the detail on that rust. It must have cost him a fortune. HOLLEY But why hasn't he contacted us yet? FINN There's probably heat on him. Be patient. HOLLEY Right, of course. He'll signal us when he can. FINN And then we find out who's behind all this. ON THE TRACK - VARIOUS SHOTS OF THE RACE through Tokyo as Francesco extends his lead and McQueen attempts to make up ground. 44. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - Mater watches the monitors, sees them approaching the dirt section. MATER McQueen! It's time to make your move. Get on the outside and show 'em what Doc done taught you. MCQUEEN (OVER RADIO) Ten four, Mater. ON THE TRACK - Francesco hits the dirt section and loses all control. He SLAMS to a halt, his tires getting no traction. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Francesco is brought to a screeching halt! MCQUEEN skids into view, turning right to go left, passing Francesco, followed by other cars --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Lightning McQueen is the first to take advantage. And just like that, folks, Francesco's lead is left in the dust. MCQUEEN Nice call, Mater. Keep it up! McQueen now leads the pack, zooming out of the dirt now starting to relax. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Who-hoo! Man, McQueen looks happier than a rollbar at a demolition derby! ON PAVED ROAD AGAIN - MOMENTS LATER The field of cars thunders into a tunnel. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Everyone's jostling for position as we hit the asphalt again. Francesco crests the hill, in last place. He bites down, determined, then CHASES. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco lost a lot of momentum in the dirt. He's got some serious work ahead of him if he wants to get back in this race. 45. VARIOUS SHOTS OF TOKYO as the racers move through the Rainbow Bridge. Bit by bit, Francesco ekes his way toward the front, toward Lightning McQueen as we CUT TO --- --- A ROOFTOP, and a VIEW THROUGH THE WGP CAMERA LENS. Grem and Acer are manning this one. They focus it on the racers as they approach. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (OVER RADIO) It is time. GREM Roger that. ON THE TRACK - A racer (Miguel Camino) suddenly PLUMES WITH SMOKE and skids out. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Oh! Miguel Camino has blown an engine! BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Very unusual, Darrell. He's been so consistent all year. Camino quickly pits, passing McQueen's pit where Mater is visible. ON GREM AND ACER, watching from above. GREM You gotta be kidding me. ACER What is it? GREM It's that tow truck from the bathroom. ACER The one from the bathroom? GREM Yeah, the one the American Agent passed the device to. ACER What about him? GREM What about him? He's in the pits! 46. ACER Not for long. Acer exits, with purpose. ON FINN AND HOLLEY, still in their office hideaway. Holley's onboard computer flashes an ALERT. HOLLEY Hold on. I think I've got something. FINN What is it? HOLLEY The Pacer from the party last night. She's spotted Acer, moving swiftly forward. HOLLEY Cross-referencing with the photos from the oil derricks... Yep. His VIN numbers match. FINN Anyone with him? He won't be alone. HOLLEY Conducting analysis on the target. The computer finds more and more bad guy Pacers and Gremlins are in the crowd. HOLLEY He's not the only one here. Three... five... they're everywhere. And they're all closing in on... oh no. We PAN OVER to see it's MATER. HOLLEY Finn? Finn, where are you? She turns. He's GONE, leaving only an open window. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of the pits now! IN MCQUEEN'S PIT. A car WHIPS BY O.S. 47. MATER Wow! Some of them fellers is really loud. HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Can you hear me? Over. MATER Uh, what? HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Get out of the pit now. Do you hear me? Mater realizes this girl has somehow broken into his radio. MATER (INTO RADIO) Hey, I know you. You're that girl from the party last night. You wanna do our date right now? ON THE TRACK - McQueen boxes out Francesco, holds his slim lead, but barely. MCQUEEN Guys, a little too much chatter. Let's keep this line clear. BOOM! A racer behind McQueen suddenly expels black smoke, skids out of control. ON GREM - laughing. That was clearly his handiwork. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - SAME HOLLEY (ON MATER'S RADIO) There's no time for messing about. You've got to get out of the pits. MATER Is there gonna be cable where you is so I can watch the rest of the race? ON HOLLEY - Watching from the downtown building. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) You're running out of time! FINN (OVER RADIO) They're coming, Shiftwell. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Yes, I know. 48. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of there. HOLLEY (TO FINN) I'm trying. (TO MATER) Get out now! We CUT BACK TO --- --- MATER. He gives in, exits the pit. MATER Well, all right but I usually like to have a proper detailing done before I meet a lady friend. He moves toward the back PIT DOOR, is about to open it. OUTSIDE THE PITS - ACER and another Pacer approach McQueen's pit door on the other side. Ready to pounce. The doors OPEN, REVEALING --- --- Finn, holding a fire extinguisher. ACER Finn McMissile? But you're dead! FINN Then this shouldn't hurt at all. He empties the extinguisher in their eyes, speeds past. They try and follow, but have been blinded. One of them crashes right into a COP. ON FINN - Already on the move, along a side street. FINN Miss Shiftwell? ON HOLLEY - Tracking everything on a grid map. Mater looks like Pac Man, weaving through the streets as bad guys close in all around him. HOLLEY I've got him in the back alleys east of the garages. Multiple assailants are closing in quickly. FINN (OVER RADIO) Keep him moving. I'm on my way. ON MATER - He turns a corner, sees a flower shop. 49. MATER Hey, new lady friend? You like flowers? ON THE TRACK - McQueen, hearing this, is taken aback. MCQUEEN What? ON MATER - Slowing at the flower shop. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go 'in' anywhere. Just keep moving. MATER Stay outside. Gotcha. ON THE TRACK MCQUEEN Outside? McQueen drifts outside allowing Francesco to slip past! FRANCESCO Grazie and arrivaderci! DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) I cannot believe what I just saw, Brent. That was a bonehead move. You don't open up the inside like that! IN THE BACK ALLEYS - As Mater moves on he's followed by Pacers and Gremlins. Suddenly --- --- CABLES whip in front of them, pulling over flower vending machines and sending the shop's owners into a frenzy. They direct their attention to the AMCs, who try and explain. ON FINN, admiring his handiwork as he appears. Just as he turns to leave he's BROADSIDED and pushed INTO A DARK ALLEY. IN THE ALLEY - Finn finds himself boxed by two Pacers and pushed toward --- --- ACER, who now holds a FLAME THROWER. ACER This time I'm gonna make sure you stay dead. He hits the flame. WHOOOSSSH!! 50. ON ANOTHER STREET - Mater clicks along, still looking for Holley. Just as he passes the alley entrance where Finn stares down death: HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) You're doing brilliantly. Now just stay focused. MATER What's that? You want me to head toward that ruckus? Mater turns INTO the alley. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go down that street! IN THE ALLEY - Finn, now nearly pushed completely into the flame thrower, leaps into the air. He FIGHTS BACK, using his wheels, axle, indeed his entire car frame as if he were human, kicking and tossing and shooting his enemies. Mater witnesses the whole thing. MATER Wow! A live karate demonstration! ON THE TRACK - McQueen, now playing catch-up again, scowls. MCQUEEN Stop it, Mater. Just sign off. IN THE BACK ALLEY - Finn polishes off the AMCs by firing a bullet into a gas main line, causing an EXPLOSION that tosses Acer through the air where he lands in a NOODLE SHOP'S SIGN. ON THE TRACK - The end of the race is nigh --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) They're bumper to bumper as they approach the finish line! The Formula car gets there first. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco's the winner, McQueen's number two! IN THE ALLEY - Finn heaves breaths, surveys his damage. MATER That was cool! Hey, can I get your autograph? 51. Mater approaches when a MASS OF RACE FANS burst out a door, momentarily blocking Mater's view of Finn. Once the fans have past, Finn has disappeared. MATER Hey, where'd he go? HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) Our rendezvous has been jeopardized. Keep the device safe. We'll be in touch. MATER Dadgum, did I miss our date? EXT. PRESS STAGE - LATER Post race press conference. Francesco is center stage. DARRELL CARTRIP Francesco, over here! Hey, what was your strategy today? FRANCESCO Strategia? Francesco needs no strategy, it's very simple. You start the race, wait for Lightning McQueen to choke, pass him, then win. Francesco always wins. It's boring. McQueen, waiting in the wings, rolls his eyes. He suddenly notices something O.S. McQueen's P.O.V. - It's MATER, appearing from a side street, moving toward the pits, oblivious of the press conference. DARRELL CARTRIP (TO FRANCESCO) I gotta tell you, dude. You were in trouble for awhile. That dirt track section had you crawling! As McQueen SNEAKS AWAY --- FRANCESCO To truly crush one's dream, you must first raise their hopes very high. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT GARAGE - Mater looks around for everyone as McQueen approaches. 52. MCQUEEN Mater. MATER Hey McQueen! What happened? Is the race over? You won, right? MCQUEEN Mater, why were you yelling things at me while I was racing? MATER Yelling? Oh, you thought... that's funny right there. Nah, see that's `cause I seen these two fellers doing some sort of karate street performance. It was nutso. One of them even had a flamethrower --- MCQUEEN A flamethrower? What are you talking about? I don't understand. Where were you? MATER Going to meet my date. MCQUEEN Your date? MATER She started talking to me as a voice in my head, telling me where to go --- MCQUEEN What? MATER Wait a minute -- I didn't screw you up, did I? MCQUEEN I lost the race because of you! MATER Well, I'm sorry. I didn't mean --- MCQUEEN An imaginary girlfriend, flamethrowers. This is exactly why I don't bring you along to these things. 53. MATER Maybe if I, I don't know, talked to somebody and explained what happened I could help. MCQUEEN I don't need your help. I don't want your help. PRESS (O.S.) Hey, there he is!! The press finds McQueen, swarms him. Mater is pushed backwards as the questions fly again. PRESS - McQueen, you had it in the bag! - Yeah, what happened? MCQUEEN I made a mistake. But I can assure you, it won't happen again. On Mater. He takes this badly. MCQUEEN Look, guys. We know what the problem is and we've taken care of it. SMASH TO: OVER FOOTAGE OF FRANCESCO and various other highlights: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER Lightning McQueen loses in the last lap to Francesco Bernoulli in the first race of the World Grand Prix and three, count em, three cars

nice

How many times the word 'nice' appears in the text?

Finn. Meet HOLLEY SHIFTWELL. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. FINN That's because it's air-cooled. HOLLEY I'm Agent Shiftwell, Holley Shiftwell from the Tokyo Station. I have a message from London. FINN Not here. (LOUDLY) You must try the canapes on the mezzanine! He moves her onto an elevator. The doors close on them. IN THE ELEVATOR, GOING UP. FINN So the lab boys analyzed the photo I sent? What did they learn about the camera? HOLLEY It appears to be a standard television camera. They said if you could get closer photos next time, that would be great. FINN This was London's message? 27. HOLLEY Oh -- no, no. No sir. Um, the oil platforms you were on? Turns out they're sitting on the biggest oil reserve in the world. FINN How did we miss that? HOLLEY They'd been scrambling everyone's satellites. The Americans actually discovered it just before you did. They placed an agent on that platform, under deep cover. He was able to get a photo of the car who's running the entire operation. The doors OPEN and they exit onto the Mezzanine. FINN Who is it? Has anyone seen the photo yet? HOLLEY No, not yet. The American is here tonight to pass it to you. He'll signal you when he's ready. FINN GOOD --- Finn suddenly STOPS COLD. FINN Oh no. Professor Zundapp is visible below them. He talks with a few Pacers and Gremlins. Finn quickly retreats into the shadows. Holley follows suit. HOLLEY What is it? FINN Change of plan. You're meeting the American. HOLLEY What, me? 28. FINN Those thugs down there were on the oil platform. If they see me, the whole mission is compromised. HOLLEY No, no. I'm technical, you see. I'm in Diagnostics. I'm not a field agent. FINN You are now. CUT TO: MATER as he grabs a drink, keeps moving. MATER I'll take one of them. He snatches it, drops it in the back where we now see a large assortment of drinks balanced. MATER Never know which one McQueen'll have a hankering for. He approaches a sushi bar. MATER Hey, what you got here that's free? How about that pistachio ice cream? He refers to wasabi, of course. SUSHI CHEF No, no. Wasabi. MATER Oh, same ol', same ol'. What's up with you? That looks delicious. The chef starts to carve a small scoop aside for Mater. MATER Uh, a little more, please. It is free, right? (the chef adds more) Keep it coming. A little more. Come on, let's go, it's free! You're getting there... Scoop scoop! The chef gives in. Scoops a baseball-sized ball out. 29. MATER There you go. Now THAT's a scoop of ice cream. SUSHI CHEF (in Japanese, subtitles) My condolences. CUT BACK TO: MILES AXLEROD - He's now nearly done with his intros. MILES AXLEROD ... and now, our last competitor --- Number 95, Lightning McQueen! MCQUEEN approaches the microphone, flashes his headlights. MCQUEEN Thank you so much for having us, Sir Axlerod. I really look forward to racing. This is a great opportunity. MILES AXLEROD Oh, the pleasure is all ours, Lightning. You and your team bring excellence and professionalism to this competition. As if on cue, Mater arrives with a piercing scream of pain. Everyone turns as he charges head first toward the stage, making a bee-line for that FOUNTAIN. MATER Somebody get me water! He laps up water from the fountain like a diabetic cat. MATER (LAPPING WATER) Sweet relief... Miles Axlerod is shocked. The crowd can't believe it. Francesco cackles. Mater, now sated, approaches the mic. MATER (to the crowd) Whatever you do, do not eat the free pistachio ice cream. It has turned! MCQUEEN Sir Axlerod, I can explain. This is Mater. 30. MILES AXLEROD I know him. This is the bloke that called into the television show. (TO MATER) You're the one I have to thank. MATER No, thank you. This trip's been amazing. MILES AXLEROD (TO MCQUEEN) He's a little excited, isn't he? TILT DOWN to reveal a pool of oil beneath Mater. MCQUEEN Mater! MATER But wait, I... oh, shoot. McQueen quickly pulls Mater aside, out of earshot of Miles Axlerod and the others. McQueen is beside himself. MCQUEEN Mater, you have to get a hold of yourself. You're making a scene. MATER But I never leak oil. Never. MCQUEEN Go take care of yourself right now. Mater drives off. ON MATER - MOMENTS LATER He drives through the party, frantic. MATER Coming through! Excuse me, leakin' oil. Where's the bathroom? Thank you. I gotta go! Someone points Mater down a hallway. He whips around the CORNER --- --- and STOPS. Finds himself in front of TWO BATHROOM DOORS, neither of which clearly indicate MALE or FEMALE. 31. MATER (CONFUSED) What the... Mater chooses one, drives inside. A SHRIEK is heard and Mater zips out. MATER Sorry ladies! He heads into the other door --- CUT TO: INT. MEN'S ROOM - NIGHT Mater rolls in, still `holding it in' like a kid. MATER I never leak I never leak I never leak... He sees someone leaving a stall. He heads in. IN THE STALL - Mater enters, looks up. MATER Wowee... The stall is a complicated apparatus with buttons and lights. High-tech Japanese. It suddenly GRABS MATER, hoists him up as if he's going to get an oil change. MATER What in the--- A Japanese style cartoon CARICATURE appears on a TV MONITOR, followed by images of waterfalls and rivers. MATER (GIGGLING) Hey, that tickles. The caricature starts talking in Japanese. Suddenly WATER FIRES UP underneath Mater's undercarriage, goosing him. He freaks out. OUTSIDE THE STALL - With Mater's yells audible we see a GREMLIN enter, furtive. Suddenly, inexplicably, his frame BREAKS APART like an egg, revealing an AMERICAN MUSCLE CAR underneath. The pieces of the Gremlin disappear under him, clearly his disguise. This is ROD REDLINE - American Agent. 32. ROD REDLINE Okay, McMissile. I'm here. It's time for the drop. INT. PARTY - SAME HOLLEY, rolls along by herself. Nervous. DING! Her rearview monitor springs to life. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) The American has activated his tracking beacon. FINN (OVER RADIO) Roger that. Move in. INT. BATHROOM - SAME Rod Redline, waiting at a sink, feels a presence behind him. GREM and ACER have entered, hesitate briefly when they see Rod Redline. Rod Redline, careful, slides a gun out of his tire. He is suddenly CHARGED by the AMCs --- Rod SPINS AROUND and gets a shot off but is SLAMMED HEAD FIRST. A TIGHT, CLOSE-QUARTERS FIGHT begins --- IN THE STALL - Mater, still TRAPPED, is now being SCRUBBED as if in a car wash. He is helpless. OUTSIDE THE STALL - Rod is being pulverized. Just when he scrambles away from one car, the other one takes over. IN THE STALL - Mater is mercifully released, but when he backs out --- --- Rod Redline is THROWN INTO MATER'S STALL DOOR, crunching it and sending Mater --- --- BACK INTO THE CLUTCHES of the insane toilet. INT. PARTY - SAME Holley isolates the tracking beacon's location in the party. HOLLEY Oh, you've got to be joking. FINN What's the problem, Shiftwell? HOLLEY He's in the loo. 33. FINN So go in! HOLLEY I can't just go into the men's loo. FINN Time is of the essence, Shiftwell. INT. BATHROOM - OUTSIDE THE STALL Rod Redline is in bad shape. He backs away, betrays a look of concern. He's in trouble here. ACER burns rubber, ready to finish him off. Just as he shifts into DRIVE --- --- MATER'S STALL DOOR KICKS OPEN, knocking ACER out. Mater jumps out, face-to-face GREM. MATER (out of breath) Whatever you do, I would not go in there. The door SWINGS shut, revealing the pulverized Acer. MATER A Gremlin and a Pacer! Rod Redline, now behind Mater and sensing an opportunity here, quickly produces A SMALL DEVICE. MATER (to Grem and Acer) No offense to your makes and models, but you guys break down harder than my cousin Betsy after she got left at the --- Rod Redline, surreptitiously attaches the device to Mater's undercarriage. MATER (as he's goosed) --- altar! He spins around, sees Rod Redline for the first time. MATER Are you okay? ROD REDLINE I'm fine. 34. GREM Hey. Tow truck. Mater turns back to Grem and Acer. GREM We'd like to get to our private business here, if you don't mind. MATER Oh, yeah. Don't let me get in the way of your "private business." Oh! A little advice: When you hear her giggle and see that waterfall, you best press that green button. GREM Thank you. MATER It's to adjust the temperature. ACER Got it. MATER Remember it's in Celsius, not Fahrenheit. GREM AND ACER Get outta here! MATER Alright then. Mater exits, leaving Rod Redline to a now even angrier Grem and Acer. EXT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER Holley arrives at the door. She takes a breath, is about to enter when Mater EXITS. MATER Excuse me, ma'am. He passes her, expelling some exhaust in the process. Holley's rearview tracking confirms that the device is on him. MATER (TO HIMSELF) Dadgum pistachio ice cream. 35. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) This cannot be him. FINN (OVER RADIO) Is he American? MATER (driving off, to himself) Look out, ladies. Mater's fittin' to get funky! HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Extremely. FINN (OVER RADIO) Then it's him. It's settled. Holley takes one more nervous breath, quickly closes the distance between her and Mater, cuts him off. He is forced to STOP. HOLLEY Hello. MATER Well, hello. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. MATER Well of course it doesn't. That's `cause it's air-cooled! HOLLEY (RELIEVED) Perfect. I'm from the Tokyo Station OF THE--- MATER Course, Karmann Ghia's weren't the only ones. Besides the Beetles you had your Type-3 Squarebacks, with the pancake motors... HOLLEY Yeah. Okay, I get it--- MATER ... And before both of them, there's the Type-2 buses - my buddy Fillmore's one of them. 36. HOLLEY Listen! We should find somewhere more private. MATER Uh, gee. Don't you think that's a little, uh --- HOLLEY (NERVOUS ENERGY) You're right. Impossible to know which areas here are compromised. So, when can I see you again? MATER Well, let's see. Tomorrow I'll be out there at the races. HOLLEY Got it. We'll rendezvous then. INT. PARTY - MOMENTS LATER Mater returns to his team, lost in thought. MCQUEEN There you are. Where have you been? MATER What's a rendezvous? LUIGI It's like a date. MATER A date?! MCQUEEN Mater, what's going on? MATER Well, what's going on is I've got me a date tomorrow. Guido makes a crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido don't believe you. MATER Well, believe it. My new girlfriend just said so. Hey, there she is. Mater points out Holley, who's within earshot. 37. MATER (YELLING) Hey! Hey lady! Holley, caught in plain view, DRIVES OFF. MATER See ya tomorrow! Guido makes another crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido still don't believe you. EXT. SHIPYARD - THE DOCKS - TOKYO NIGHT An industrial dock, outside of the city proper. INT. SHIPYARD - NIGHT Rod Redline dangles from a car magnet. He's been beaten up, clings to consciousness. GREM (O.S.) I gotta admit --- Grem, Acer, and a bunch of nasty looking troublemakers look up at Rod amidst crates and shipping containers. GREM --- you tricked us real good. ACER And we don't like being tricked. Rod Redline laughs to himself. ACER Hey, what's so funny? ROD REDLINE Well, you know, I was just wearing a disguise. You guys are stuck looking like that. This doesn't help him. They DROP HIM onto a TREADMILL, lock him down. A container is wheeled forward and Rod is plied with Allinol brand gasoline. ROD REDLINE Allinol? Thanks, fellas. I hear this stuff is good for you. 38. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (O.S.) So you think. The Professor emerges from the darkness, behind Rod. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Allinol by itself is good for you. Zundapp hits a button and the TREADMILL starts Rod's wheels spinning at a high rate of speed. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP But after microscopic examination, I have found that it has one small weakness. When hit with an electromagnetic pulse, it becomes extremely dangerous. GREM SMILE --- Grem pushes a World Grand Prix CAMERA - the same one that was in the box back at the oil derrick. He points it at Rod Redline. GREM --- for the camera. ROD REDLINE Is that all you want? I got a whole act. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You were very interested in this camera on the oil platform. Now you will witness what it really does. ROD REDLINE Whatever you say, Professor. Acer pushes a TV MONITOR toward Rod. On it, surveillance footage from the party. Clearly, they were watching and recording him there. ACER You talked up a lot of cars last night. Which one's your associate? ROD REDLINE Your mother. Oh no, I'm sorry. It was your sister. You know, I can't tell them apart these days. 39. GREM (HAD ENOUGH) Could I start it now, Professor? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Fifty percent power. (to Rod Redline) This camera is actually an electromagnetic pulse emitter. ACER (re: a girl on the TV) What about her? Did you give it to her? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The Allinol is now heating to a boil, dramatically expanding, causing the engine block to crack under the stress, forcing oil into the combustion chamber. Rod Redline's engine starts to CRACK and BREAK. ACER (re: a guy on the TV) How about him? You talk to him? ROD REDLINE (to Professor Zundapp) What do I care? I can replace an engine block. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You may be able to, but after full impact of the pulse, unfortunately, there will be nothing to replace. ACER How about him? Does he have it? The monitor reveals MATER, rolling out of the bathroom and down the hall. Rod Redline, seeing this, does the world's most subtle double take. We caught it, but there's no way anyone else in the room could have --- PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP That's him. He's the one. GREM Roger that, Professor Z. 40. ROD REDLINE No! As Grem turns up the machine even MORE, the Professor makes a call. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (INTO PHONE) Yes sir. We believe the infiltrator has passed along sensitive information. (beat, listening) I will take care of it before any damage can be done. The Professor hangs up, turns to the room. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The project is still on schedule. You will find this second agent --- Zundapp kicks the camera's power into the RED. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP --- and kill him. On the MONITOR - With Mater's frozen image on the screen we see Rod EXPLODE in the reflection. EXT. JAPAN - DAY Over television pre-roll of Japan: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Japan. Land of the rising sun. Where ancient tradition meets modern technology. Welcome to the inaugural running of the World Grand Prix. ON OUR ANNOUNCERS as they introduce themselves: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER I'm Brent Mustangburger, here with racing legends Darrell Cartrip and David Hobbscap. There's never been a competition like this before. SHOTS OF THE PITS as the racers fuel up. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) First, Allinol, making its debut tonight as the required fuel for all these great champions. (MORE) 41. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) (CONT'D) Second, the course itself, and it's like nothing we've ever seen. David, how exactly does this competition work? DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Well, Brent, all three of these street courses are classic round- the-house racetracks. OUTLINES OF THREE RACE COURSES are shown. They're labeled Japan, Italy and England, and are different in shape and size. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) This means that the LMP and Formula cars should break out of the gate in spectacular fashion. SHOTS OF THE RACERS as they weave up the track, practicing. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Look for Francesco Bernoulli in particular to lead early. SHOTS OF Francesco, featured in an inset. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) And with a series of technical turns throughout --- MORE SHOTS of the course, now highlighting the tech turns. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) GT and Touring cars like Spain's Miguel Camino should make up some ground but I doubt it'll be enough to stop Francesco from absolutely running away with it. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Woah, now just hold your horsepower. You're forgetting the most important factor here. That early dirt track section of the course! The dirt is supposed to be the great equalizer in this race. GRAPHICS OF THE COURSES now isolate a stretch after the first couple turns, label it "DIRT SECTIONS." 42. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) French Rally car Raoul aRoule is counting on a big boost headed through there. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) And don't forget Lightning McQueen! His mentor, the Hudson Hornet, was one of the greatest dirt track racers of all time. In my opinion, McQueen is the best all-around racer in this competition. BACK IN THE STUDIO DAVID HOBBSCAP Really, Darrell, I think you need to clean your windshield. You're clearly not seeing this for what it is: Francesco's race to lose. EXT. STARTING LINE - DAY BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) It's time to find out. The racers are locking into the grid --- Engines rev as everyone gets ready to go. Everyone's bright eyed and alert except for McQueen who we find in the back of the grid. He CLOSES his eyes. MCQUEEN (TO HIMSELF) Speed. I am speed. A LAUGH O.S. McQueen opens his eyes. Francesco is next to him on the grid. FRANCESCO Really? You are "speed"? Then Francesco is triple speed. (closes his eyes) Francesco. Is. Triple speed. Francesco likes this, McQueen. It's really getting him into the zone! MCQUEEN He is so getting beat today. The starting lights click down from RED to YELLOW to GREEN. The race begins. Francesco quickly grabs the lead. He's pulling away within seconds. 43. ON PIT ROW - We TRACK PAST as the various Crew Chiefs on their crash carts bark orders to their racers. We end on Team McQueen. No Crew Chief, just a solid looking team. SARGE His suspension stats look good. LUIGI Tire pressure is excellent. FILLMORE He's got plenty of fuel. MATER And he's awesome! CUT TO: The same view of Mater but now THROUGH A TELESCOPIC DISPLAY. Reveal Finn and Holley watching from high above in a downtown office building, behind reflective glass. HOLLEY Why is he in the pits? He's so exposed. FINN It's his cover. One of the best I've seen, too. Look at the detail on that rust. It must have cost him a fortune. HOLLEY But why hasn't he contacted us yet? FINN There's probably heat on him. Be patient. HOLLEY Right, of course. He'll signal us when he can. FINN And then we find out who's behind all this. ON THE TRACK - VARIOUS SHOTS OF THE RACE through Tokyo as Francesco extends his lead and McQueen attempts to make up ground. 44. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - Mater watches the monitors, sees them approaching the dirt section. MATER McQueen! It's time to make your move. Get on the outside and show 'em what Doc done taught you. MCQUEEN (OVER RADIO) Ten four, Mater. ON THE TRACK - Francesco hits the dirt section and loses all control. He SLAMS to a halt, his tires getting no traction. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Francesco is brought to a screeching halt! MCQUEEN skids into view, turning right to go left, passing Francesco, followed by other cars --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Lightning McQueen is the first to take advantage. And just like that, folks, Francesco's lead is left in the dust. MCQUEEN Nice call, Mater. Keep it up! McQueen now leads the pack, zooming out of the dirt now starting to relax. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Who-hoo! Man, McQueen looks happier than a rollbar at a demolition derby! ON PAVED ROAD AGAIN - MOMENTS LATER The field of cars thunders into a tunnel. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Everyone's jostling for position as we hit the asphalt again. Francesco crests the hill, in last place. He bites down, determined, then CHASES. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco lost a lot of momentum in the dirt. He's got some serious work ahead of him if he wants to get back in this race. 45. VARIOUS SHOTS OF TOKYO as the racers move through the Rainbow Bridge. Bit by bit, Francesco ekes his way toward the front, toward Lightning McQueen as we CUT TO --- --- A ROOFTOP, and a VIEW THROUGH THE WGP CAMERA LENS. Grem and Acer are manning this one. They focus it on the racers as they approach. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (OVER RADIO) It is time. GREM Roger that. ON THE TRACK - A racer (Miguel Camino) suddenly PLUMES WITH SMOKE and skids out. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Oh! Miguel Camino has blown an engine! BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Very unusual, Darrell. He's been so consistent all year. Camino quickly pits, passing McQueen's pit where Mater is visible. ON GREM AND ACER, watching from above. GREM You gotta be kidding me. ACER What is it? GREM It's that tow truck from the bathroom. ACER The one from the bathroom? GREM Yeah, the one the American Agent passed the device to. ACER What about him? GREM What about him? He's in the pits! 46. ACER Not for long. Acer exits, with purpose. ON FINN AND HOLLEY, still in their office hideaway. Holley's onboard computer flashes an ALERT. HOLLEY Hold on. I think I've got something. FINN What is it? HOLLEY The Pacer from the party last night. She's spotted Acer, moving swiftly forward. HOLLEY Cross-referencing with the photos from the oil derricks... Yep. His VIN numbers match. FINN Anyone with him? He won't be alone. HOLLEY Conducting analysis on the target. The computer finds more and more bad guy Pacers and Gremlins are in the crowd. HOLLEY He's not the only one here. Three... five... they're everywhere. And they're all closing in on... oh no. We PAN OVER to see it's MATER. HOLLEY Finn? Finn, where are you? She turns. He's GONE, leaving only an open window. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of the pits now! IN MCQUEEN'S PIT. A car WHIPS BY O.S. 47. MATER Wow! Some of them fellers is really loud. HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Can you hear me? Over. MATER Uh, what? HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Get out of the pit now. Do you hear me? Mater realizes this girl has somehow broken into his radio. MATER (INTO RADIO) Hey, I know you. You're that girl from the party last night. You wanna do our date right now? ON THE TRACK - McQueen boxes out Francesco, holds his slim lead, but barely. MCQUEEN Guys, a little too much chatter. Let's keep this line clear. BOOM! A racer behind McQueen suddenly expels black smoke, skids out of control. ON GREM - laughing. That was clearly his handiwork. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - SAME HOLLEY (ON MATER'S RADIO) There's no time for messing about. You've got to get out of the pits. MATER Is there gonna be cable where you is so I can watch the rest of the race? ON HOLLEY - Watching from the downtown building. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) You're running out of time! FINN (OVER RADIO) They're coming, Shiftwell. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Yes, I know. 48. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of there. HOLLEY (TO FINN) I'm trying. (TO MATER) Get out now! We CUT BACK TO --- --- MATER. He gives in, exits the pit. MATER Well, all right but I usually like to have a proper detailing done before I meet a lady friend. He moves toward the back PIT DOOR, is about to open it. OUTSIDE THE PITS - ACER and another Pacer approach McQueen's pit door on the other side. Ready to pounce. The doors OPEN, REVEALING --- --- Finn, holding a fire extinguisher. ACER Finn McMissile? But you're dead! FINN Then this shouldn't hurt at all. He empties the extinguisher in their eyes, speeds past. They try and follow, but have been blinded. One of them crashes right into a COP. ON FINN - Already on the move, along a side street. FINN Miss Shiftwell? ON HOLLEY - Tracking everything on a grid map. Mater looks like Pac Man, weaving through the streets as bad guys close in all around him. HOLLEY I've got him in the back alleys east of the garages. Multiple assailants are closing in quickly. FINN (OVER RADIO) Keep him moving. I'm on my way. ON MATER - He turns a corner, sees a flower shop. 49. MATER Hey, new lady friend? You like flowers? ON THE TRACK - McQueen, hearing this, is taken aback. MCQUEEN What? ON MATER - Slowing at the flower shop. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go 'in' anywhere. Just keep moving. MATER Stay outside. Gotcha. ON THE TRACK MCQUEEN Outside? McQueen drifts outside allowing Francesco to slip past! FRANCESCO Grazie and arrivaderci! DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) I cannot believe what I just saw, Brent. That was a bonehead move. You don't open up the inside like that! IN THE BACK ALLEYS - As Mater moves on he's followed by Pacers and Gremlins. Suddenly --- --- CABLES whip in front of them, pulling over flower vending machines and sending the shop's owners into a frenzy. They direct their attention to the AMCs, who try and explain. ON FINN, admiring his handiwork as he appears. Just as he turns to leave he's BROADSIDED and pushed INTO A DARK ALLEY. IN THE ALLEY - Finn finds himself boxed by two Pacers and pushed toward --- --- ACER, who now holds a FLAME THROWER. ACER This time I'm gonna make sure you stay dead. He hits the flame. WHOOOSSSH!! 50. ON ANOTHER STREET - Mater clicks along, still looking for Holley. Just as he passes the alley entrance where Finn stares down death: HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) You're doing brilliantly. Now just stay focused. MATER What's that? You want me to head toward that ruckus? Mater turns INTO the alley. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go down that street! IN THE ALLEY - Finn, now nearly pushed completely into the flame thrower, leaps into the air. He FIGHTS BACK, using his wheels, axle, indeed his entire car frame as if he were human, kicking and tossing and shooting his enemies. Mater witnesses the whole thing. MATER Wow! A live karate demonstration! ON THE TRACK - McQueen, now playing catch-up again, scowls. MCQUEEN Stop it, Mater. Just sign off. IN THE BACK ALLEY - Finn polishes off the AMCs by firing a bullet into a gas main line, causing an EXPLOSION that tosses Acer through the air where he lands in a NOODLE SHOP'S SIGN. ON THE TRACK - The end of the race is nigh --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) They're bumper to bumper as they approach the finish line! The Formula car gets there first. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco's the winner, McQueen's number two! IN THE ALLEY - Finn heaves breaths, surveys his damage. MATER That was cool! Hey, can I get your autograph? 51. Mater approaches when a MASS OF RACE FANS burst out a door, momentarily blocking Mater's view of Finn. Once the fans have past, Finn has disappeared. MATER Hey, where'd he go? HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) Our rendezvous has been jeopardized. Keep the device safe. We'll be in touch. MATER Dadgum, did I miss our date? EXT. PRESS STAGE - LATER Post race press conference. Francesco is center stage. DARRELL CARTRIP Francesco, over here! Hey, what was your strategy today? FRANCESCO Strategia? Francesco needs no strategy, it's very simple. You start the race, wait for Lightning McQueen to choke, pass him, then win. Francesco always wins. It's boring. McQueen, waiting in the wings, rolls his eyes. He suddenly notices something O.S. McQueen's P.O.V. - It's MATER, appearing from a side street, moving toward the pits, oblivious of the press conference. DARRELL CARTRIP (TO FRANCESCO) I gotta tell you, dude. You were in trouble for awhile. That dirt track section had you crawling! As McQueen SNEAKS AWAY --- FRANCESCO To truly crush one's dream, you must first raise their hopes very high. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT GARAGE - Mater looks around for everyone as McQueen approaches. 52. MCQUEEN Mater. MATER Hey McQueen! What happened? Is the race over? You won, right? MCQUEEN Mater, why were you yelling things at me while I was racing? MATER Yelling? Oh, you thought... that's funny right there. Nah, see that's `cause I seen these two fellers doing some sort of karate street performance. It was nutso. One of them even had a flamethrower --- MCQUEEN A flamethrower? What are you talking about? I don't understand. Where were you? MATER Going to meet my date. MCQUEEN Your date? MATER She started talking to me as a voice in my head, telling me where to go --- MCQUEEN What? MATER Wait a minute -- I didn't screw you up, did I? MCQUEEN I lost the race because of you! MATER Well, I'm sorry. I didn't mean --- MCQUEEN An imaginary girlfriend, flamethrowers. This is exactly why I don't bring you along to these things. 53. MATER Maybe if I, I don't know, talked to somebody and explained what happened I could help. MCQUEEN I don't need your help. I don't want your help. PRESS (O.S.) Hey, there he is!! The press finds McQueen, swarms him. Mater is pushed backwards as the questions fly again. PRESS - McQueen, you had it in the bag! - Yeah, what happened? MCQUEEN I made a mistake. But I can assure you, it won't happen again. On Mater. He takes this badly. MCQUEEN Look, guys. We know what the problem is and we've taken care of it. SMASH TO: OVER FOOTAGE OF FRANCESCO and various other highlights: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER Lightning McQueen loses in the last lap to Francesco Bernoulli in the first race of the World Grand Prix and three, count em, three cars

are,--almost

How many times the word 'are,--almost' appears in the text?

Finn. Meet HOLLEY SHIFTWELL. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. FINN That's because it's air-cooled. HOLLEY I'm Agent Shiftwell, Holley Shiftwell from the Tokyo Station. I have a message from London. FINN Not here. (LOUDLY) You must try the canapes on the mezzanine! He moves her onto an elevator. The doors close on them. IN THE ELEVATOR, GOING UP. FINN So the lab boys analyzed the photo I sent? What did they learn about the camera? HOLLEY It appears to be a standard television camera. They said if you could get closer photos next time, that would be great. FINN This was London's message? 27. HOLLEY Oh -- no, no. No sir. Um, the oil platforms you were on? Turns out they're sitting on the biggest oil reserve in the world. FINN How did we miss that? HOLLEY They'd been scrambling everyone's satellites. The Americans actually discovered it just before you did. They placed an agent on that platform, under deep cover. He was able to get a photo of the car who's running the entire operation. The doors OPEN and they exit onto the Mezzanine. FINN Who is it? Has anyone seen the photo yet? HOLLEY No, not yet. The American is here tonight to pass it to you. He'll signal you when he's ready. FINN GOOD --- Finn suddenly STOPS COLD. FINN Oh no. Professor Zundapp is visible below them. He talks with a few Pacers and Gremlins. Finn quickly retreats into the shadows. Holley follows suit. HOLLEY What is it? FINN Change of plan. You're meeting the American. HOLLEY What, me? 28. FINN Those thugs down there were on the oil platform. If they see me, the whole mission is compromised. HOLLEY No, no. I'm technical, you see. I'm in Diagnostics. I'm not a field agent. FINN You are now. CUT TO: MATER as he grabs a drink, keeps moving. MATER I'll take one of them. He snatches it, drops it in the back where we now see a large assortment of drinks balanced. MATER Never know which one McQueen'll have a hankering for. He approaches a sushi bar. MATER Hey, what you got here that's free? How about that pistachio ice cream? He refers to wasabi, of course. SUSHI CHEF No, no. Wasabi. MATER Oh, same ol', same ol'. What's up with you? That looks delicious. The chef starts to carve a small scoop aside for Mater. MATER Uh, a little more, please. It is free, right? (the chef adds more) Keep it coming. A little more. Come on, let's go, it's free! You're getting there... Scoop scoop! The chef gives in. Scoops a baseball-sized ball out. 29. MATER There you go. Now THAT's a scoop of ice cream. SUSHI CHEF (in Japanese, subtitles) My condolences. CUT BACK TO: MILES AXLEROD - He's now nearly done with his intros. MILES AXLEROD ... and now, our last competitor --- Number 95, Lightning McQueen! MCQUEEN approaches the microphone, flashes his headlights. MCQUEEN Thank you so much for having us, Sir Axlerod. I really look forward to racing. This is a great opportunity. MILES AXLEROD Oh, the pleasure is all ours, Lightning. You and your team bring excellence and professionalism to this competition. As if on cue, Mater arrives with a piercing scream of pain. Everyone turns as he charges head first toward the stage, making a bee-line for that FOUNTAIN. MATER Somebody get me water! He laps up water from the fountain like a diabetic cat. MATER (LAPPING WATER) Sweet relief... Miles Axlerod is shocked. The crowd can't believe it. Francesco cackles. Mater, now sated, approaches the mic. MATER (to the crowd) Whatever you do, do not eat the free pistachio ice cream. It has turned! MCQUEEN Sir Axlerod, I can explain. This is Mater. 30. MILES AXLEROD I know him. This is the bloke that called into the television show. (TO MATER) You're the one I have to thank. MATER No, thank you. This trip's been amazing. MILES AXLEROD (TO MCQUEEN) He's a little excited, isn't he? TILT DOWN to reveal a pool of oil beneath Mater. MCQUEEN Mater! MATER But wait, I... oh, shoot. McQueen quickly pulls Mater aside, out of earshot of Miles Axlerod and the others. McQueen is beside himself. MCQUEEN Mater, you have to get a hold of yourself. You're making a scene. MATER But I never leak oil. Never. MCQUEEN Go take care of yourself right now. Mater drives off. ON MATER - MOMENTS LATER He drives through the party, frantic. MATER Coming through! Excuse me, leakin' oil. Where's the bathroom? Thank you. I gotta go! Someone points Mater down a hallway. He whips around the CORNER --- --- and STOPS. Finds himself in front of TWO BATHROOM DOORS, neither of which clearly indicate MALE or FEMALE. 31. MATER (CONFUSED) What the... Mater chooses one, drives inside. A SHRIEK is heard and Mater zips out. MATER Sorry ladies! He heads into the other door --- CUT TO: INT. MEN'S ROOM - NIGHT Mater rolls in, still `holding it in' like a kid. MATER I never leak I never leak I never leak... He sees someone leaving a stall. He heads in. IN THE STALL - Mater enters, looks up. MATER Wowee... The stall is a complicated apparatus with buttons and lights. High-tech Japanese. It suddenly GRABS MATER, hoists him up as if he's going to get an oil change. MATER What in the--- A Japanese style cartoon CARICATURE appears on a TV MONITOR, followed by images of waterfalls and rivers. MATER (GIGGLING) Hey, that tickles. The caricature starts talking in Japanese. Suddenly WATER FIRES UP underneath Mater's undercarriage, goosing him. He freaks out. OUTSIDE THE STALL - With Mater's yells audible we see a GREMLIN enter, furtive. Suddenly, inexplicably, his frame BREAKS APART like an egg, revealing an AMERICAN MUSCLE CAR underneath. The pieces of the Gremlin disappear under him, clearly his disguise. This is ROD REDLINE - American Agent. 32. ROD REDLINE Okay, McMissile. I'm here. It's time for the drop. INT. PARTY - SAME HOLLEY, rolls along by herself. Nervous. DING! Her rearview monitor springs to life. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) The American has activated his tracking beacon. FINN (OVER RADIO) Roger that. Move in. INT. BATHROOM - SAME Rod Redline, waiting at a sink, feels a presence behind him. GREM and ACER have entered, hesitate briefly when they see Rod Redline. Rod Redline, careful, slides a gun out of his tire. He is suddenly CHARGED by the AMCs --- Rod SPINS AROUND and gets a shot off but is SLAMMED HEAD FIRST. A TIGHT, CLOSE-QUARTERS FIGHT begins --- IN THE STALL - Mater, still TRAPPED, is now being SCRUBBED as if in a car wash. He is helpless. OUTSIDE THE STALL - Rod is being pulverized. Just when he scrambles away from one car, the other one takes over. IN THE STALL - Mater is mercifully released, but when he backs out --- --- Rod Redline is THROWN INTO MATER'S STALL DOOR, crunching it and sending Mater --- --- BACK INTO THE CLUTCHES of the insane toilet. INT. PARTY - SAME Holley isolates the tracking beacon's location in the party. HOLLEY Oh, you've got to be joking. FINN What's the problem, Shiftwell? HOLLEY He's in the loo. 33. FINN So go in! HOLLEY I can't just go into the men's loo. FINN Time is of the essence, Shiftwell. INT. BATHROOM - OUTSIDE THE STALL Rod Redline is in bad shape. He backs away, betrays a look of concern. He's in trouble here. ACER burns rubber, ready to finish him off. Just as he shifts into DRIVE --- --- MATER'S STALL DOOR KICKS OPEN, knocking ACER out. Mater jumps out, face-to-face GREM. MATER (out of breath) Whatever you do, I would not go in there. The door SWINGS shut, revealing the pulverized Acer. MATER A Gremlin and a Pacer! Rod Redline, now behind Mater and sensing an opportunity here, quickly produces A SMALL DEVICE. MATER (to Grem and Acer) No offense to your makes and models, but you guys break down harder than my cousin Betsy after she got left at the --- Rod Redline, surreptitiously attaches the device to Mater's undercarriage. MATER (as he's goosed) --- altar! He spins around, sees Rod Redline for the first time. MATER Are you okay? ROD REDLINE I'm fine. 34. GREM Hey. Tow truck. Mater turns back to Grem and Acer. GREM We'd like to get to our private business here, if you don't mind. MATER Oh, yeah. Don't let me get in the way of your "private business." Oh! A little advice: When you hear her giggle and see that waterfall, you best press that green button. GREM Thank you. MATER It's to adjust the temperature. ACER Got it. MATER Remember it's in Celsius, not Fahrenheit. GREM AND ACER Get outta here! MATER Alright then. Mater exits, leaving Rod Redline to a now even angrier Grem and Acer. EXT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER Holley arrives at the door. She takes a breath, is about to enter when Mater EXITS. MATER Excuse me, ma'am. He passes her, expelling some exhaust in the process. Holley's rearview tracking confirms that the device is on him. MATER (TO HIMSELF) Dadgum pistachio ice cream. 35. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) This cannot be him. FINN (OVER RADIO) Is he American? MATER (driving off, to himself) Look out, ladies. Mater's fittin' to get funky! HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Extremely. FINN (OVER RADIO) Then it's him. It's settled. Holley takes one more nervous breath, quickly closes the distance between her and Mater, cuts him off. He is forced to STOP. HOLLEY Hello. MATER Well, hello. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. MATER Well of course it doesn't. That's `cause it's air-cooled! HOLLEY (RELIEVED) Perfect. I'm from the Tokyo Station OF THE--- MATER Course, Karmann Ghia's weren't the only ones. Besides the Beetles you had your Type-3 Squarebacks, with the pancake motors... HOLLEY Yeah. Okay, I get it--- MATER ... And before both of them, there's the Type-2 buses - my buddy Fillmore's one of them. 36. HOLLEY Listen! We should find somewhere more private. MATER Uh, gee. Don't you think that's a little, uh --- HOLLEY (NERVOUS ENERGY) You're right. Impossible to know which areas here are compromised. So, when can I see you again? MATER Well, let's see. Tomorrow I'll be out there at the races. HOLLEY Got it. We'll rendezvous then. INT. PARTY - MOMENTS LATER Mater returns to his team, lost in thought. MCQUEEN There you are. Where have you been? MATER What's a rendezvous? LUIGI It's like a date. MATER A date?! MCQUEEN Mater, what's going on? MATER Well, what's going on is I've got me a date tomorrow. Guido makes a crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido don't believe you. MATER Well, believe it. My new girlfriend just said so. Hey, there she is. Mater points out Holley, who's within earshot. 37. MATER (YELLING) Hey! Hey lady! Holley, caught in plain view, DRIVES OFF. MATER See ya tomorrow! Guido makes another crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido still don't believe you. EXT. SHIPYARD - THE DOCKS - TOKYO NIGHT An industrial dock, outside of the city proper. INT. SHIPYARD - NIGHT Rod Redline dangles from a car magnet. He's been beaten up, clings to consciousness. GREM (O.S.) I gotta admit --- Grem, Acer, and a bunch of nasty looking troublemakers look up at Rod amidst crates and shipping containers. GREM --- you tricked us real good. ACER And we don't like being tricked. Rod Redline laughs to himself. ACER Hey, what's so funny? ROD REDLINE Well, you know, I was just wearing a disguise. You guys are stuck looking like that. This doesn't help him. They DROP HIM onto a TREADMILL, lock him down. A container is wheeled forward and Rod is plied with Allinol brand gasoline. ROD REDLINE Allinol? Thanks, fellas. I hear this stuff is good for you. 38. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (O.S.) So you think. The Professor emerges from the darkness, behind Rod. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Allinol by itself is good for you. Zundapp hits a button and the TREADMILL starts Rod's wheels spinning at a high rate of speed. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP But after microscopic examination, I have found that it has one small weakness. When hit with an electromagnetic pulse, it becomes extremely dangerous. GREM SMILE --- Grem pushes a World Grand Prix CAMERA - the same one that was in the box back at the oil derrick. He points it at Rod Redline. GREM --- for the camera. ROD REDLINE Is that all you want? I got a whole act. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You were very interested in this camera on the oil platform. Now you will witness what it really does. ROD REDLINE Whatever you say, Professor. Acer pushes a TV MONITOR toward Rod. On it, surveillance footage from the party. Clearly, they were watching and recording him there. ACER You talked up a lot of cars last night. Which one's your associate? ROD REDLINE Your mother. Oh no, I'm sorry. It was your sister. You know, I can't tell them apart these days. 39. GREM (HAD ENOUGH) Could I start it now, Professor? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Fifty percent power. (to Rod Redline) This camera is actually an electromagnetic pulse emitter. ACER (re: a girl on the TV) What about her? Did you give it to her? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The Allinol is now heating to a boil, dramatically expanding, causing the engine block to crack under the stress, forcing oil into the combustion chamber. Rod Redline's engine starts to CRACK and BREAK. ACER (re: a guy on the TV) How about him? You talk to him? ROD REDLINE (to Professor Zundapp) What do I care? I can replace an engine block. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You may be able to, but after full impact of the pulse, unfortunately, there will be nothing to replace. ACER How about him? Does he have it? The monitor reveals MATER, rolling out of the bathroom and down the hall. Rod Redline, seeing this, does the world's most subtle double take. We caught it, but there's no way anyone else in the room could have --- PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP That's him. He's the one. GREM Roger that, Professor Z. 40. ROD REDLINE No! As Grem turns up the machine even MORE, the Professor makes a call. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (INTO PHONE) Yes sir. We believe the infiltrator has passed along sensitive information. (beat, listening) I will take care of it before any damage can be done. The Professor hangs up, turns to the room. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The project is still on schedule. You will find this second agent --- Zundapp kicks the camera's power into the RED. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP --- and kill him. On the MONITOR - With Mater's frozen image on the screen we see Rod EXPLODE in the reflection. EXT. JAPAN - DAY Over television pre-roll of Japan: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Japan. Land of the rising sun. Where ancient tradition meets modern technology. Welcome to the inaugural running of the World Grand Prix. ON OUR ANNOUNCERS as they introduce themselves: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER I'm Brent Mustangburger, here with racing legends Darrell Cartrip and David Hobbscap. There's never been a competition like this before. SHOTS OF THE PITS as the racers fuel up. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) First, Allinol, making its debut tonight as the required fuel for all these great champions. (MORE) 41. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) (CONT'D) Second, the course itself, and it's like nothing we've ever seen. David, how exactly does this competition work? DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Well, Brent, all three of these street courses are classic round- the-house racetracks. OUTLINES OF THREE RACE COURSES are shown. They're labeled Japan, Italy and England, and are different in shape and size. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) This means that the LMP and Formula cars should break out of the gate in spectacular fashion. SHOTS OF THE RACERS as they weave up the track, practicing. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Look for Francesco Bernoulli in particular to lead early. SHOTS OF Francesco, featured in an inset. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) And with a series of technical turns throughout --- MORE SHOTS of the course, now highlighting the tech turns. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) GT and Touring cars like Spain's Miguel Camino should make up some ground but I doubt it'll be enough to stop Francesco from absolutely running away with it. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Woah, now just hold your horsepower. You're forgetting the most important factor here. That early dirt track section of the course! The dirt is supposed to be the great equalizer in this race. GRAPHICS OF THE COURSES now isolate a stretch after the first couple turns, label it "DIRT SECTIONS." 42. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) French Rally car Raoul aRoule is counting on a big boost headed through there. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) And don't forget Lightning McQueen! His mentor, the Hudson Hornet, was one of the greatest dirt track racers of all time. In my opinion, McQueen is the best all-around racer in this competition. BACK IN THE STUDIO DAVID HOBBSCAP Really, Darrell, I think you need to clean your windshield. You're clearly not seeing this for what it is: Francesco's race to lose. EXT. STARTING LINE - DAY BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) It's time to find out. The racers are locking into the grid --- Engines rev as everyone gets ready to go. Everyone's bright eyed and alert except for McQueen who we find in the back of the grid. He CLOSES his eyes. MCQUEEN (TO HIMSELF) Speed. I am speed. A LAUGH O.S. McQueen opens his eyes. Francesco is next to him on the grid. FRANCESCO Really? You are "speed"? Then Francesco is triple speed. (closes his eyes) Francesco. Is. Triple speed. Francesco likes this, McQueen. It's really getting him into the zone! MCQUEEN He is so getting beat today. The starting lights click down from RED to YELLOW to GREEN. The race begins. Francesco quickly grabs the lead. He's pulling away within seconds. 43. ON PIT ROW - We TRACK PAST as the various Crew Chiefs on their crash carts bark orders to their racers. We end on Team McQueen. No Crew Chief, just a solid looking team. SARGE His suspension stats look good. LUIGI Tire pressure is excellent. FILLMORE He's got plenty of fuel. MATER And he's awesome! CUT TO: The same view of Mater but now THROUGH A TELESCOPIC DISPLAY. Reveal Finn and Holley watching from high above in a downtown office building, behind reflective glass. HOLLEY Why is he in the pits? He's so exposed. FINN It's his cover. One of the best I've seen, too. Look at the detail on that rust. It must have cost him a fortune. HOLLEY But why hasn't he contacted us yet? FINN There's probably heat on him. Be patient. HOLLEY Right, of course. He'll signal us when he can. FINN And then we find out who's behind all this. ON THE TRACK - VARIOUS SHOTS OF THE RACE through Tokyo as Francesco extends his lead and McQueen attempts to make up ground. 44. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - Mater watches the monitors, sees them approaching the dirt section. MATER McQueen! It's time to make your move. Get on the outside and show 'em what Doc done taught you. MCQUEEN (OVER RADIO) Ten four, Mater. ON THE TRACK - Francesco hits the dirt section and loses all control. He SLAMS to a halt, his tires getting no traction. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Francesco is brought to a screeching halt! MCQUEEN skids into view, turning right to go left, passing Francesco, followed by other cars --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Lightning McQueen is the first to take advantage. And just like that, folks, Francesco's lead is left in the dust. MCQUEEN Nice call, Mater. Keep it up! McQueen now leads the pack, zooming out of the dirt now starting to relax. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Who-hoo! Man, McQueen looks happier than a rollbar at a demolition derby! ON PAVED ROAD AGAIN - MOMENTS LATER The field of cars thunders into a tunnel. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Everyone's jostling for position as we hit the asphalt again. Francesco crests the hill, in last place. He bites down, determined, then CHASES. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco lost a lot of momentum in the dirt. He's got some serious work ahead of him if he wants to get back in this race. 45. VARIOUS SHOTS OF TOKYO as the racers move through the Rainbow Bridge. Bit by bit, Francesco ekes his way toward the front, toward Lightning McQueen as we CUT TO --- --- A ROOFTOP, and a VIEW THROUGH THE WGP CAMERA LENS. Grem and Acer are manning this one. They focus it on the racers as they approach. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (OVER RADIO) It is time. GREM Roger that. ON THE TRACK - A racer (Miguel Camino) suddenly PLUMES WITH SMOKE and skids out. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Oh! Miguel Camino has blown an engine! BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Very unusual, Darrell. He's been so consistent all year. Camino quickly pits, passing McQueen's pit where Mater is visible. ON GREM AND ACER, watching from above. GREM You gotta be kidding me. ACER What is it? GREM It's that tow truck from the bathroom. ACER The one from the bathroom? GREM Yeah, the one the American Agent passed the device to. ACER What about him? GREM What about him? He's in the pits! 46. ACER Not for long. Acer exits, with purpose. ON FINN AND HOLLEY, still in their office hideaway. Holley's onboard computer flashes an ALERT. HOLLEY Hold on. I think I've got something. FINN What is it? HOLLEY The Pacer from the party last night. She's spotted Acer, moving swiftly forward. HOLLEY Cross-referencing with the photos from the oil derricks... Yep. His VIN numbers match. FINN Anyone with him? He won't be alone. HOLLEY Conducting analysis on the target. The computer finds more and more bad guy Pacers and Gremlins are in the crowd. HOLLEY He's not the only one here. Three... five... they're everywhere. And they're all closing in on... oh no. We PAN OVER to see it's MATER. HOLLEY Finn? Finn, where are you? She turns. He's GONE, leaving only an open window. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of the pits now! IN MCQUEEN'S PIT. A car WHIPS BY O.S. 47. MATER Wow! Some of them fellers is really loud. HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Can you hear me? Over. MATER Uh, what? HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Get out of the pit now. Do you hear me? Mater realizes this girl has somehow broken into his radio. MATER (INTO RADIO) Hey, I know you. You're that girl from the party last night. You wanna do our date right now? ON THE TRACK - McQueen boxes out Francesco, holds his slim lead, but barely. MCQUEEN Guys, a little too much chatter. Let's keep this line clear. BOOM! A racer behind McQueen suddenly expels black smoke, skids out of control. ON GREM - laughing. That was clearly his handiwork. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - SAME HOLLEY (ON MATER'S RADIO) There's no time for messing about. You've got to get out of the pits. MATER Is there gonna be cable where you is so I can watch the rest of the race? ON HOLLEY - Watching from the downtown building. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) You're running out of time! FINN (OVER RADIO) They're coming, Shiftwell. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Yes, I know. 48. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of there. HOLLEY (TO FINN) I'm trying. (TO MATER) Get out now! We CUT BACK TO --- --- MATER. He gives in, exits the pit. MATER Well, all right but I usually like to have a proper detailing done before I meet a lady friend. He moves toward the back PIT DOOR, is about to open it. OUTSIDE THE PITS - ACER and another Pacer approach McQueen's pit door on the other side. Ready to pounce. The doors OPEN, REVEALING --- --- Finn, holding a fire extinguisher. ACER Finn McMissile? But you're dead! FINN Then this shouldn't hurt at all. He empties the extinguisher in their eyes, speeds past. They try and follow, but have been blinded. One of them crashes right into a COP. ON FINN - Already on the move, along a side street. FINN Miss Shiftwell? ON HOLLEY - Tracking everything on a grid map. Mater looks like Pac Man, weaving through the streets as bad guys close in all around him. HOLLEY I've got him in the back alleys east of the garages. Multiple assailants are closing in quickly. FINN (OVER RADIO) Keep him moving. I'm on my way. ON MATER - He turns a corner, sees a flower shop. 49. MATER Hey, new lady friend? You like flowers? ON THE TRACK - McQueen, hearing this, is taken aback. MCQUEEN What? ON MATER - Slowing at the flower shop. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go 'in' anywhere. Just keep moving. MATER Stay outside. Gotcha. ON THE TRACK MCQUEEN Outside? McQueen drifts outside allowing Francesco to slip past! FRANCESCO Grazie and arrivaderci! DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) I cannot believe what I just saw, Brent. That was a bonehead move. You don't open up the inside like that! IN THE BACK ALLEYS - As Mater moves on he's followed by Pacers and Gremlins. Suddenly --- --- CABLES whip in front of them, pulling over flower vending machines and sending the shop's owners into a frenzy. They direct their attention to the AMCs, who try and explain. ON FINN, admiring his handiwork as he appears. Just as he turns to leave he's BROADSIDED and pushed INTO A DARK ALLEY. IN THE ALLEY - Finn finds himself boxed by two Pacers and pushed toward --- --- ACER, who now holds a FLAME THROWER. ACER This time I'm gonna make sure you stay dead. He hits the flame. WHOOOSSSH!! 50. ON ANOTHER STREET - Mater clicks along, still looking for Holley. Just as he passes the alley entrance where Finn stares down death: HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) You're doing brilliantly. Now just stay focused. MATER What's that? You want me to head toward that ruckus? Mater turns INTO the alley. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go down that street! IN THE ALLEY - Finn, now nearly pushed completely into the flame thrower, leaps into the air. He FIGHTS BACK, using his wheels, axle, indeed his entire car frame as if he were human, kicking and tossing and shooting his enemies. Mater witnesses the whole thing. MATER Wow! A live karate demonstration! ON THE TRACK - McQueen, now playing catch-up again, scowls. MCQUEEN Stop it, Mater. Just sign off. IN THE BACK ALLEY - Finn polishes off the AMCs by firing a bullet into a gas main line, causing an EXPLOSION that tosses Acer through the air where he lands in a NOODLE SHOP'S SIGN. ON THE TRACK - The end of the race is nigh --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) They're bumper to bumper as they approach the finish line! The Formula car gets there first. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco's the winner, McQueen's number two! IN THE ALLEY - Finn heaves breaths, surveys his damage. MATER That was cool! Hey, can I get your autograph? 51. Mater approaches when a MASS OF RACE FANS burst out a door, momentarily blocking Mater's view of Finn. Once the fans have past, Finn has disappeared. MATER Hey, where'd he go? HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) Our rendezvous has been jeopardized. Keep the device safe. We'll be in touch. MATER Dadgum, did I miss our date? EXT. PRESS STAGE - LATER Post race press conference. Francesco is center stage. DARRELL CARTRIP Francesco, over here! Hey, what was your strategy today? FRANCESCO Strategia? Francesco needs no strategy, it's very simple. You start the race, wait for Lightning McQueen to choke, pass him, then win. Francesco always wins. It's boring. McQueen, waiting in the wings, rolls his eyes. He suddenly notices something O.S. McQueen's P.O.V. - It's MATER, appearing from a side street, moving toward the pits, oblivious of the press conference. DARRELL CARTRIP (TO FRANCESCO) I gotta tell you, dude. You were in trouble for awhile. That dirt track section had you crawling! As McQueen SNEAKS AWAY --- FRANCESCO To truly crush one's dream, you must first raise their hopes very high. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT GARAGE - Mater looks around for everyone as McQueen approaches. 52. MCQUEEN Mater. MATER Hey McQueen! What happened? Is the race over? You won, right? MCQUEEN Mater, why were you yelling things at me while I was racing? MATER Yelling? Oh, you thought... that's funny right there. Nah, see that's `cause I seen these two fellers doing some sort of karate street performance. It was nutso. One of them even had a flamethrower --- MCQUEEN A flamethrower? What are you talking about? I don't understand. Where were you? MATER Going to meet my date. MCQUEEN Your date? MATER She started talking to me as a voice in my head, telling me where to go --- MCQUEEN What? MATER Wait a minute -- I didn't screw you up, did I? MCQUEEN I lost the race because of you! MATER Well, I'm sorry. I didn't mean --- MCQUEEN An imaginary girlfriend, flamethrowers. This is exactly why I don't bring you along to these things. 53. MATER Maybe if I, I don't know, talked to somebody and explained what happened I could help. MCQUEEN I don't need your help. I don't want your help. PRESS (O.S.) Hey, there he is!! The press finds McQueen, swarms him. Mater is pushed backwards as the questions fly again. PRESS - McQueen, you had it in the bag! - Yeah, what happened? MCQUEEN I made a mistake. But I can assure you, it won't happen again. On Mater. He takes this badly. MCQUEEN Look, guys. We know what the problem is and we've taken care of it. SMASH TO: OVER FOOTAGE OF FRANCESCO and various other highlights: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER Lightning McQueen loses in the last lap to Francesco Bernoulli in the first race of the World Grand Prix and three, count em, three cars

greystone

How many times the word 'greystone' appears in the text?

Finn. Meet HOLLEY SHIFTWELL. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. FINN That's because it's air-cooled. HOLLEY I'm Agent Shiftwell, Holley Shiftwell from the Tokyo Station. I have a message from London. FINN Not here. (LOUDLY) You must try the canapes on the mezzanine! He moves her onto an elevator. The doors close on them. IN THE ELEVATOR, GOING UP. FINN So the lab boys analyzed the photo I sent? What did they learn about the camera? HOLLEY It appears to be a standard television camera. They said if you could get closer photos next time, that would be great. FINN This was London's message? 27. HOLLEY Oh -- no, no. No sir. Um, the oil platforms you were on? Turns out they're sitting on the biggest oil reserve in the world. FINN How did we miss that? HOLLEY They'd been scrambling everyone's satellites. The Americans actually discovered it just before you did. They placed an agent on that platform, under deep cover. He was able to get a photo of the car who's running the entire operation. The doors OPEN and they exit onto the Mezzanine. FINN Who is it? Has anyone seen the photo yet? HOLLEY No, not yet. The American is here tonight to pass it to you. He'll signal you when he's ready. FINN GOOD --- Finn suddenly STOPS COLD. FINN Oh no. Professor Zundapp is visible below them. He talks with a few Pacers and Gremlins. Finn quickly retreats into the shadows. Holley follows suit. HOLLEY What is it? FINN Change of plan. You're meeting the American. HOLLEY What, me? 28. FINN Those thugs down there were on the oil platform. If they see me, the whole mission is compromised. HOLLEY No, no. I'm technical, you see. I'm in Diagnostics. I'm not a field agent. FINN You are now. CUT TO: MATER as he grabs a drink, keeps moving. MATER I'll take one of them. He snatches it, drops it in the back where we now see a large assortment of drinks balanced. MATER Never know which one McQueen'll have a hankering for. He approaches a sushi bar. MATER Hey, what you got here that's free? How about that pistachio ice cream? He refers to wasabi, of course. SUSHI CHEF No, no. Wasabi. MATER Oh, same ol', same ol'. What's up with you? That looks delicious. The chef starts to carve a small scoop aside for Mater. MATER Uh, a little more, please. It is free, right? (the chef adds more) Keep it coming. A little more. Come on, let's go, it's free! You're getting there... Scoop scoop! The chef gives in. Scoops a baseball-sized ball out. 29. MATER There you go. Now THAT's a scoop of ice cream. SUSHI CHEF (in Japanese, subtitles) My condolences. CUT BACK TO: MILES AXLEROD - He's now nearly done with his intros. MILES AXLEROD ... and now, our last competitor --- Number 95, Lightning McQueen! MCQUEEN approaches the microphone, flashes his headlights. MCQUEEN Thank you so much for having us, Sir Axlerod. I really look forward to racing. This is a great opportunity. MILES AXLEROD Oh, the pleasure is all ours, Lightning. You and your team bring excellence and professionalism to this competition. As if on cue, Mater arrives with a piercing scream of pain. Everyone turns as he charges head first toward the stage, making a bee-line for that FOUNTAIN. MATER Somebody get me water! He laps up water from the fountain like a diabetic cat. MATER (LAPPING WATER) Sweet relief... Miles Axlerod is shocked. The crowd can't believe it. Francesco cackles. Mater, now sated, approaches the mic. MATER (to the crowd) Whatever you do, do not eat the free pistachio ice cream. It has turned! MCQUEEN Sir Axlerod, I can explain. This is Mater. 30. MILES AXLEROD I know him. This is the bloke that called into the television show. (TO MATER) You're the one I have to thank. MATER No, thank you. This trip's been amazing. MILES AXLEROD (TO MCQUEEN) He's a little excited, isn't he? TILT DOWN to reveal a pool of oil beneath Mater. MCQUEEN Mater! MATER But wait, I... oh, shoot. McQueen quickly pulls Mater aside, out of earshot of Miles Axlerod and the others. McQueen is beside himself. MCQUEEN Mater, you have to get a hold of yourself. You're making a scene. MATER But I never leak oil. Never. MCQUEEN Go take care of yourself right now. Mater drives off. ON MATER - MOMENTS LATER He drives through the party, frantic. MATER Coming through! Excuse me, leakin' oil. Where's the bathroom? Thank you. I gotta go! Someone points Mater down a hallway. He whips around the CORNER --- --- and STOPS. Finds himself in front of TWO BATHROOM DOORS, neither of which clearly indicate MALE or FEMALE. 31. MATER (CONFUSED) What the... Mater chooses one, drives inside. A SHRIEK is heard and Mater zips out. MATER Sorry ladies! He heads into the other door --- CUT TO: INT. MEN'S ROOM - NIGHT Mater rolls in, still `holding it in' like a kid. MATER I never leak I never leak I never leak... He sees someone leaving a stall. He heads in. IN THE STALL - Mater enters, looks up. MATER Wowee... The stall is a complicated apparatus with buttons and lights. High-tech Japanese. It suddenly GRABS MATER, hoists him up as if he's going to get an oil change. MATER What in the--- A Japanese style cartoon CARICATURE appears on a TV MONITOR, followed by images of waterfalls and rivers. MATER (GIGGLING) Hey, that tickles. The caricature starts talking in Japanese. Suddenly WATER FIRES UP underneath Mater's undercarriage, goosing him. He freaks out. OUTSIDE THE STALL - With Mater's yells audible we see a GREMLIN enter, furtive. Suddenly, inexplicably, his frame BREAKS APART like an egg, revealing an AMERICAN MUSCLE CAR underneath. The pieces of the Gremlin disappear under him, clearly his disguise. This is ROD REDLINE - American Agent. 32. ROD REDLINE Okay, McMissile. I'm here. It's time for the drop. INT. PARTY - SAME HOLLEY, rolls along by herself. Nervous. DING! Her rearview monitor springs to life. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) The American has activated his tracking beacon. FINN (OVER RADIO) Roger that. Move in. INT. BATHROOM - SAME Rod Redline, waiting at a sink, feels a presence behind him. GREM and ACER have entered, hesitate briefly when they see Rod Redline. Rod Redline, careful, slides a gun out of his tire. He is suddenly CHARGED by the AMCs --- Rod SPINS AROUND and gets a shot off but is SLAMMED HEAD FIRST. A TIGHT, CLOSE-QUARTERS FIGHT begins --- IN THE STALL - Mater, still TRAPPED, is now being SCRUBBED as if in a car wash. He is helpless. OUTSIDE THE STALL - Rod is being pulverized. Just when he scrambles away from one car, the other one takes over. IN THE STALL - Mater is mercifully released, but when he backs out --- --- Rod Redline is THROWN INTO MATER'S STALL DOOR, crunching it and sending Mater --- --- BACK INTO THE CLUTCHES of the insane toilet. INT. PARTY - SAME Holley isolates the tracking beacon's location in the party. HOLLEY Oh, you've got to be joking. FINN What's the problem, Shiftwell? HOLLEY He's in the loo. 33. FINN So go in! HOLLEY I can't just go into the men's loo. FINN Time is of the essence, Shiftwell. INT. BATHROOM - OUTSIDE THE STALL Rod Redline is in bad shape. He backs away, betrays a look of concern. He's in trouble here. ACER burns rubber, ready to finish him off. Just as he shifts into DRIVE --- --- MATER'S STALL DOOR KICKS OPEN, knocking ACER out. Mater jumps out, face-to-face GREM. MATER (out of breath) Whatever you do, I would not go in there. The door SWINGS shut, revealing the pulverized Acer. MATER A Gremlin and a Pacer! Rod Redline, now behind Mater and sensing an opportunity here, quickly produces A SMALL DEVICE. MATER (to Grem and Acer) No offense to your makes and models, but you guys break down harder than my cousin Betsy after she got left at the --- Rod Redline, surreptitiously attaches the device to Mater's undercarriage. MATER (as he's goosed) --- altar! He spins around, sees Rod Redline for the first time. MATER Are you okay? ROD REDLINE I'm fine. 34. GREM Hey. Tow truck. Mater turns back to Grem and Acer. GREM We'd like to get to our private business here, if you don't mind. MATER Oh, yeah. Don't let me get in the way of your "private business." Oh! A little advice: When you hear her giggle and see that waterfall, you best press that green button. GREM Thank you. MATER It's to adjust the temperature. ACER Got it. MATER Remember it's in Celsius, not Fahrenheit. GREM AND ACER Get outta here! MATER Alright then. Mater exits, leaving Rod Redline to a now even angrier Grem and Acer. EXT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER Holley arrives at the door. She takes a breath, is about to enter when Mater EXITS. MATER Excuse me, ma'am. He passes her, expelling some exhaust in the process. Holley's rearview tracking confirms that the device is on him. MATER (TO HIMSELF) Dadgum pistachio ice cream. 35. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) This cannot be him. FINN (OVER RADIO) Is he American? MATER (driving off, to himself) Look out, ladies. Mater's fittin' to get funky! HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Extremely. FINN (OVER RADIO) Then it's him. It's settled. Holley takes one more nervous breath, quickly closes the distance between her and Mater, cuts him off. He is forced to STOP. HOLLEY Hello. MATER Well, hello. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. MATER Well of course it doesn't. That's `cause it's air-cooled! HOLLEY (RELIEVED) Perfect. I'm from the Tokyo Station OF THE--- MATER Course, Karmann Ghia's weren't the only ones. Besides the Beetles you had your Type-3 Squarebacks, with the pancake motors... HOLLEY Yeah. Okay, I get it--- MATER ... And before both of them, there's the Type-2 buses - my buddy Fillmore's one of them. 36. HOLLEY Listen! We should find somewhere more private. MATER Uh, gee. Don't you think that's a little, uh --- HOLLEY (NERVOUS ENERGY) You're right. Impossible to know which areas here are compromised. So, when can I see you again? MATER Well, let's see. Tomorrow I'll be out there at the races. HOLLEY Got it. We'll rendezvous then. INT. PARTY - MOMENTS LATER Mater returns to his team, lost in thought. MCQUEEN There you are. Where have you been? MATER What's a rendezvous? LUIGI It's like a date. MATER A date?! MCQUEEN Mater, what's going on? MATER Well, what's going on is I've got me a date tomorrow. Guido makes a crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido don't believe you. MATER Well, believe it. My new girlfriend just said so. Hey, there she is. Mater points out Holley, who's within earshot. 37. MATER (YELLING) Hey! Hey lady! Holley, caught in plain view, DRIVES OFF. MATER See ya tomorrow! Guido makes another crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido still don't believe you. EXT. SHIPYARD - THE DOCKS - TOKYO NIGHT An industrial dock, outside of the city proper. INT. SHIPYARD - NIGHT Rod Redline dangles from a car magnet. He's been beaten up, clings to consciousness. GREM (O.S.) I gotta admit --- Grem, Acer, and a bunch of nasty looking troublemakers look up at Rod amidst crates and shipping containers. GREM --- you tricked us real good. ACER And we don't like being tricked. Rod Redline laughs to himself. ACER Hey, what's so funny? ROD REDLINE Well, you know, I was just wearing a disguise. You guys are stuck looking like that. This doesn't help him. They DROP HIM onto a TREADMILL, lock him down. A container is wheeled forward and Rod is plied with Allinol brand gasoline. ROD REDLINE Allinol? Thanks, fellas. I hear this stuff is good for you. 38. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (O.S.) So you think. The Professor emerges from the darkness, behind Rod. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Allinol by itself is good for you. Zundapp hits a button and the TREADMILL starts Rod's wheels spinning at a high rate of speed. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP But after microscopic examination, I have found that it has one small weakness. When hit with an electromagnetic pulse, it becomes extremely dangerous. GREM SMILE --- Grem pushes a World Grand Prix CAMERA - the same one that was in the box back at the oil derrick. He points it at Rod Redline. GREM --- for the camera. ROD REDLINE Is that all you want? I got a whole act. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You were very interested in this camera on the oil platform. Now you will witness what it really does. ROD REDLINE Whatever you say, Professor. Acer pushes a TV MONITOR toward Rod. On it, surveillance footage from the party. Clearly, they were watching and recording him there. ACER You talked up a lot of cars last night. Which one's your associate? ROD REDLINE Your mother. Oh no, I'm sorry. It was your sister. You know, I can't tell them apart these days. 39. GREM (HAD ENOUGH) Could I start it now, Professor? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Fifty percent power. (to Rod Redline) This camera is actually an electromagnetic pulse emitter. ACER (re: a girl on the TV) What about her? Did you give it to her? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The Allinol is now heating to a boil, dramatically expanding, causing the engine block to crack under the stress, forcing oil into the combustion chamber. Rod Redline's engine starts to CRACK and BREAK. ACER (re: a guy on the TV) How about him? You talk to him? ROD REDLINE (to Professor Zundapp) What do I care? I can replace an engine block. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You may be able to, but after full impact of the pulse, unfortunately, there will be nothing to replace. ACER How about him? Does he have it? The monitor reveals MATER, rolling out of the bathroom and down the hall. Rod Redline, seeing this, does the world's most subtle double take. We caught it, but there's no way anyone else in the room could have --- PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP That's him. He's the one. GREM Roger that, Professor Z. 40. ROD REDLINE No! As Grem turns up the machine even MORE, the Professor makes a call. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (INTO PHONE) Yes sir. We believe the infiltrator has passed along sensitive information. (beat, listening) I will take care of it before any damage can be done. The Professor hangs up, turns to the room. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The project is still on schedule. You will find this second agent --- Zundapp kicks the camera's power into the RED. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP --- and kill him. On the MONITOR - With Mater's frozen image on the screen we see Rod EXPLODE in the reflection. EXT. JAPAN - DAY Over television pre-roll of Japan: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Japan. Land of the rising sun. Where ancient tradition meets modern technology. Welcome to the inaugural running of the World Grand Prix. ON OUR ANNOUNCERS as they introduce themselves: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER I'm Brent Mustangburger, here with racing legends Darrell Cartrip and David Hobbscap. There's never been a competition like this before. SHOTS OF THE PITS as the racers fuel up. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) First, Allinol, making its debut tonight as the required fuel for all these great champions. (MORE) 41. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) (CONT'D) Second, the course itself, and it's like nothing we've ever seen. David, how exactly does this competition work? DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Well, Brent, all three of these street courses are classic round- the-house racetracks. OUTLINES OF THREE RACE COURSES are shown. They're labeled Japan, Italy and England, and are different in shape and size. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) This means that the LMP and Formula cars should break out of the gate in spectacular fashion. SHOTS OF THE RACERS as they weave up the track, practicing. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Look for Francesco Bernoulli in particular to lead early. SHOTS OF Francesco, featured in an inset. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) And with a series of technical turns throughout --- MORE SHOTS of the course, now highlighting the tech turns. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) GT and Touring cars like Spain's Miguel Camino should make up some ground but I doubt it'll be enough to stop Francesco from absolutely running away with it. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Woah, now just hold your horsepower. You're forgetting the most important factor here. That early dirt track section of the course! The dirt is supposed to be the great equalizer in this race. GRAPHICS OF THE COURSES now isolate a stretch after the first couple turns, label it "DIRT SECTIONS." 42. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) French Rally car Raoul aRoule is counting on a big boost headed through there. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) And don't forget Lightning McQueen! His mentor, the Hudson Hornet, was one of the greatest dirt track racers of all time. In my opinion, McQueen is the best all-around racer in this competition. BACK IN THE STUDIO DAVID HOBBSCAP Really, Darrell, I think you need to clean your windshield. You're clearly not seeing this for what it is: Francesco's race to lose. EXT. STARTING LINE - DAY BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) It's time to find out. The racers are locking into the grid --- Engines rev as everyone gets ready to go. Everyone's bright eyed and alert except for McQueen who we find in the back of the grid. He CLOSES his eyes. MCQUEEN (TO HIMSELF) Speed. I am speed. A LAUGH O.S. McQueen opens his eyes. Francesco is next to him on the grid. FRANCESCO Really? You are "speed"? Then Francesco is triple speed. (closes his eyes) Francesco. Is. Triple speed. Francesco likes this, McQueen. It's really getting him into the zone! MCQUEEN He is so getting beat today. The starting lights click down from RED to YELLOW to GREEN. The race begins. Francesco quickly grabs the lead. He's pulling away within seconds. 43. ON PIT ROW - We TRACK PAST as the various Crew Chiefs on their crash carts bark orders to their racers. We end on Team McQueen. No Crew Chief, just a solid looking team. SARGE His suspension stats look good. LUIGI Tire pressure is excellent. FILLMORE He's got plenty of fuel. MATER And he's awesome! CUT TO: The same view of Mater but now THROUGH A TELESCOPIC DISPLAY. Reveal Finn and Holley watching from high above in a downtown office building, behind reflective glass. HOLLEY Why is he in the pits? He's so exposed. FINN It's his cover. One of the best I've seen, too. Look at the detail on that rust. It must have cost him a fortune. HOLLEY But why hasn't he contacted us yet? FINN There's probably heat on him. Be patient. HOLLEY Right, of course. He'll signal us when he can. FINN And then we find out who's behind all this. ON THE TRACK - VARIOUS SHOTS OF THE RACE through Tokyo as Francesco extends his lead and McQueen attempts to make up ground. 44. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - Mater watches the monitors, sees them approaching the dirt section. MATER McQueen! It's time to make your move. Get on the outside and show 'em what Doc done taught you. MCQUEEN (OVER RADIO) Ten four, Mater. ON THE TRACK - Francesco hits the dirt section and loses all control. He SLAMS to a halt, his tires getting no traction. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Francesco is brought to a screeching halt! MCQUEEN skids into view, turning right to go left, passing Francesco, followed by other cars --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Lightning McQueen is the first to take advantage. And just like that, folks, Francesco's lead is left in the dust. MCQUEEN Nice call, Mater. Keep it up! McQueen now leads the pack, zooming out of the dirt now starting to relax. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Who-hoo! Man, McQueen looks happier than a rollbar at a demolition derby! ON PAVED ROAD AGAIN - MOMENTS LATER The field of cars thunders into a tunnel. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Everyone's jostling for position as we hit the asphalt again. Francesco crests the hill, in last place. He bites down, determined, then CHASES. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco lost a lot of momentum in the dirt. He's got some serious work ahead of him if he wants to get back in this race. 45. VARIOUS SHOTS OF TOKYO as the racers move through the Rainbow Bridge. Bit by bit, Francesco ekes his way toward the front, toward Lightning McQueen as we CUT TO --- --- A ROOFTOP, and a VIEW THROUGH THE WGP CAMERA LENS. Grem and Acer are manning this one. They focus it on the racers as they approach. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (OVER RADIO) It is time. GREM Roger that. ON THE TRACK - A racer (Miguel Camino) suddenly PLUMES WITH SMOKE and skids out. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Oh! Miguel Camino has blown an engine! BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Very unusual, Darrell. He's been so consistent all year. Camino quickly pits, passing McQueen's pit where Mater is visible. ON GREM AND ACER, watching from above. GREM You gotta be kidding me. ACER What is it? GREM It's that tow truck from the bathroom. ACER The one from the bathroom? GREM Yeah, the one the American Agent passed the device to. ACER What about him? GREM What about him? He's in the pits! 46. ACER Not for long. Acer exits, with purpose. ON FINN AND HOLLEY, still in their office hideaway. Holley's onboard computer flashes an ALERT. HOLLEY Hold on. I think I've got something. FINN What is it? HOLLEY The Pacer from the party last night. She's spotted Acer, moving swiftly forward. HOLLEY Cross-referencing with the photos from the oil derricks... Yep. His VIN numbers match. FINN Anyone with him? He won't be alone. HOLLEY Conducting analysis on the target. The computer finds more and more bad guy Pacers and Gremlins are in the crowd. HOLLEY He's not the only one here. Three... five... they're everywhere. And they're all closing in on... oh no. We PAN OVER to see it's MATER. HOLLEY Finn? Finn, where are you? She turns. He's GONE, leaving only an open window. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of the pits now! IN MCQUEEN'S PIT. A car WHIPS BY O.S. 47. MATER Wow! Some of them fellers is really loud. HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Can you hear me? Over. MATER Uh, what? HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Get out of the pit now. Do you hear me? Mater realizes this girl has somehow broken into his radio. MATER (INTO RADIO) Hey, I know you. You're that girl from the party last night. You wanna do our date right now? ON THE TRACK - McQueen boxes out Francesco, holds his slim lead, but barely. MCQUEEN Guys, a little too much chatter. Let's keep this line clear. BOOM! A racer behind McQueen suddenly expels black smoke, skids out of control. ON GREM - laughing. That was clearly his handiwork. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - SAME HOLLEY (ON MATER'S RADIO) There's no time for messing about. You've got to get out of the pits. MATER Is there gonna be cable where you is so I can watch the rest of the race? ON HOLLEY - Watching from the downtown building. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) You're running out of time! FINN (OVER RADIO) They're coming, Shiftwell. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Yes, I know. 48. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of there. HOLLEY (TO FINN) I'm trying. (TO MATER) Get out now! We CUT BACK TO --- --- MATER. He gives in, exits the pit. MATER Well, all right but I usually like to have a proper detailing done before I meet a lady friend. He moves toward the back PIT DOOR, is about to open it. OUTSIDE THE PITS - ACER and another Pacer approach McQueen's pit door on the other side. Ready to pounce. The doors OPEN, REVEALING --- --- Finn, holding a fire extinguisher. ACER Finn McMissile? But you're dead! FINN Then this shouldn't hurt at all. He empties the extinguisher in their eyes, speeds past. They try and follow, but have been blinded. One of them crashes right into a COP. ON FINN - Already on the move, along a side street. FINN Miss Shiftwell? ON HOLLEY - Tracking everything on a grid map. Mater looks like Pac Man, weaving through the streets as bad guys close in all around him. HOLLEY I've got him in the back alleys east of the garages. Multiple assailants are closing in quickly. FINN (OVER RADIO) Keep him moving. I'm on my way. ON MATER - He turns a corner, sees a flower shop. 49. MATER Hey, new lady friend? You like flowers? ON THE TRACK - McQueen, hearing this, is taken aback. MCQUEEN What? ON MATER - Slowing at the flower shop. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go 'in' anywhere. Just keep moving. MATER Stay outside. Gotcha. ON THE TRACK MCQUEEN Outside? McQueen drifts outside allowing Francesco to slip past! FRANCESCO Grazie and arrivaderci! DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) I cannot believe what I just saw, Brent. That was a bonehead move. You don't open up the inside like that! IN THE BACK ALLEYS - As Mater moves on he's followed by Pacers and Gremlins. Suddenly --- --- CABLES whip in front of them, pulling over flower vending machines and sending the shop's owners into a frenzy. They direct their attention to the AMCs, who try and explain. ON FINN, admiring his handiwork as he appears. Just as he turns to leave he's BROADSIDED and pushed INTO A DARK ALLEY. IN THE ALLEY - Finn finds himself boxed by two Pacers and pushed toward --- --- ACER, who now holds a FLAME THROWER. ACER This time I'm gonna make sure you stay dead. He hits the flame. WHOOOSSSH!! 50. ON ANOTHER STREET - Mater clicks along, still looking for Holley. Just as he passes the alley entrance where Finn stares down death: HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) You're doing brilliantly. Now just stay focused. MATER What's that? You want me to head toward that ruckus? Mater turns INTO the alley. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go down that street! IN THE ALLEY - Finn, now nearly pushed completely into the flame thrower, leaps into the air. He FIGHTS BACK, using his wheels, axle, indeed his entire car frame as if he were human, kicking and tossing and shooting his enemies. Mater witnesses the whole thing. MATER Wow! A live karate demonstration! ON THE TRACK - McQueen, now playing catch-up again, scowls. MCQUEEN Stop it, Mater. Just sign off. IN THE BACK ALLEY - Finn polishes off the AMCs by firing a bullet into a gas main line, causing an EXPLOSION that tosses Acer through the air where he lands in a NOODLE SHOP'S SIGN. ON THE TRACK - The end of the race is nigh --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) They're bumper to bumper as they approach the finish line! The Formula car gets there first. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco's the winner, McQueen's number two! IN THE ALLEY - Finn heaves breaths, surveys his damage. MATER That was cool! Hey, can I get your autograph? 51. Mater approaches when a MASS OF RACE FANS burst out a door, momentarily blocking Mater's view of Finn. Once the fans have past, Finn has disappeared. MATER Hey, where'd he go? HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) Our rendezvous has been jeopardized. Keep the device safe. We'll be in touch. MATER Dadgum, did I miss our date? EXT. PRESS STAGE - LATER Post race press conference. Francesco is center stage. DARRELL CARTRIP Francesco, over here! Hey, what was your strategy today? FRANCESCO Strategia? Francesco needs no strategy, it's very simple. You start the race, wait for Lightning McQueen to choke, pass him, then win. Francesco always wins. It's boring. McQueen, waiting in the wings, rolls his eyes. He suddenly notices something O.S. McQueen's P.O.V. - It's MATER, appearing from a side street, moving toward the pits, oblivious of the press conference. DARRELL CARTRIP (TO FRANCESCO) I gotta tell you, dude. You were in trouble for awhile. That dirt track section had you crawling! As McQueen SNEAKS AWAY --- FRANCESCO To truly crush one's dream, you must first raise their hopes very high. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT GARAGE - Mater looks around for everyone as McQueen approaches. 52. MCQUEEN Mater. MATER Hey McQueen! What happened? Is the race over? You won, right? MCQUEEN Mater, why were you yelling things at me while I was racing? MATER Yelling? Oh, you thought... that's funny right there. Nah, see that's `cause I seen these two fellers doing some sort of karate street performance. It was nutso. One of them even had a flamethrower --- MCQUEEN A flamethrower? What are you talking about? I don't understand. Where were you? MATER Going to meet my date. MCQUEEN Your date? MATER She started talking to me as a voice in my head, telling me where to go --- MCQUEEN What? MATER Wait a minute -- I didn't screw you up, did I? MCQUEEN I lost the race because of you! MATER Well, I'm sorry. I didn't mean --- MCQUEEN An imaginary girlfriend, flamethrowers. This is exactly why I don't bring you along to these things. 53. MATER Maybe if I, I don't know, talked to somebody and explained what happened I could help. MCQUEEN I don't need your help. I don't want your help. PRESS (O.S.) Hey, there he is!! The press finds McQueen, swarms him. Mater is pushed backwards as the questions fly again. PRESS - McQueen, you had it in the bag! - Yeah, what happened? MCQUEEN I made a mistake. But I can assure you, it won't happen again. On Mater. He takes this badly. MCQUEEN Look, guys. We know what the problem is and we've taken care of it. SMASH TO: OVER FOOTAGE OF FRANCESCO and various other highlights: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER Lightning McQueen loses in the last lap to Francesco Bernoulli in the first race of the World Grand Prix and three, count em, three cars

intros

How many times the word 'intros' appears in the text?

Finn. Meet HOLLEY SHIFTWELL. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. FINN That's because it's air-cooled. HOLLEY I'm Agent Shiftwell, Holley Shiftwell from the Tokyo Station. I have a message from London. FINN Not here. (LOUDLY) You must try the canapes on the mezzanine! He moves her onto an elevator. The doors close on them. IN THE ELEVATOR, GOING UP. FINN So the lab boys analyzed the photo I sent? What did they learn about the camera? HOLLEY It appears to be a standard television camera. They said if you could get closer photos next time, that would be great. FINN This was London's message? 27. HOLLEY Oh -- no, no. No sir. Um, the oil platforms you were on? Turns out they're sitting on the biggest oil reserve in the world. FINN How did we miss that? HOLLEY They'd been scrambling everyone's satellites. The Americans actually discovered it just before you did. They placed an agent on that platform, under deep cover. He was able to get a photo of the car who's running the entire operation. The doors OPEN and they exit onto the Mezzanine. FINN Who is it? Has anyone seen the photo yet? HOLLEY No, not yet. The American is here tonight to pass it to you. He'll signal you when he's ready. FINN GOOD --- Finn suddenly STOPS COLD. FINN Oh no. Professor Zundapp is visible below them. He talks with a few Pacers and Gremlins. Finn quickly retreats into the shadows. Holley follows suit. HOLLEY What is it? FINN Change of plan. You're meeting the American. HOLLEY What, me? 28. FINN Those thugs down there were on the oil platform. If they see me, the whole mission is compromised. HOLLEY No, no. I'm technical, you see. I'm in Diagnostics. I'm not a field agent. FINN You are now. CUT TO: MATER as he grabs a drink, keeps moving. MATER I'll take one of them. He snatches it, drops it in the back where we now see a large assortment of drinks balanced. MATER Never know which one McQueen'll have a hankering for. He approaches a sushi bar. MATER Hey, what you got here that's free? How about that pistachio ice cream? He refers to wasabi, of course. SUSHI CHEF No, no. Wasabi. MATER Oh, same ol', same ol'. What's up with you? That looks delicious. The chef starts to carve a small scoop aside for Mater. MATER Uh, a little more, please. It is free, right? (the chef adds more) Keep it coming. A little more. Come on, let's go, it's free! You're getting there... Scoop scoop! The chef gives in. Scoops a baseball-sized ball out. 29. MATER There you go. Now THAT's a scoop of ice cream. SUSHI CHEF (in Japanese, subtitles) My condolences. CUT BACK TO: MILES AXLEROD - He's now nearly done with his intros. MILES AXLEROD ... and now, our last competitor --- Number 95, Lightning McQueen! MCQUEEN approaches the microphone, flashes his headlights. MCQUEEN Thank you so much for having us, Sir Axlerod. I really look forward to racing. This is a great opportunity. MILES AXLEROD Oh, the pleasure is all ours, Lightning. You and your team bring excellence and professionalism to this competition. As if on cue, Mater arrives with a piercing scream of pain. Everyone turns as he charges head first toward the stage, making a bee-line for that FOUNTAIN. MATER Somebody get me water! He laps up water from the fountain like a diabetic cat. MATER (LAPPING WATER) Sweet relief... Miles Axlerod is shocked. The crowd can't believe it. Francesco cackles. Mater, now sated, approaches the mic. MATER (to the crowd) Whatever you do, do not eat the free pistachio ice cream. It has turned! MCQUEEN Sir Axlerod, I can explain. This is Mater. 30. MILES AXLEROD I know him. This is the bloke that called into the television show. (TO MATER) You're the one I have to thank. MATER No, thank you. This trip's been amazing. MILES AXLEROD (TO MCQUEEN) He's a little excited, isn't he? TILT DOWN to reveal a pool of oil beneath Mater. MCQUEEN Mater! MATER But wait, I... oh, shoot. McQueen quickly pulls Mater aside, out of earshot of Miles Axlerod and the others. McQueen is beside himself. MCQUEEN Mater, you have to get a hold of yourself. You're making a scene. MATER But I never leak oil. Never. MCQUEEN Go take care of yourself right now. Mater drives off. ON MATER - MOMENTS LATER He drives through the party, frantic. MATER Coming through! Excuse me, leakin' oil. Where's the bathroom? Thank you. I gotta go! Someone points Mater down a hallway. He whips around the CORNER --- --- and STOPS. Finds himself in front of TWO BATHROOM DOORS, neither of which clearly indicate MALE or FEMALE. 31. MATER (CONFUSED) What the... Mater chooses one, drives inside. A SHRIEK is heard and Mater zips out. MATER Sorry ladies! He heads into the other door --- CUT TO: INT. MEN'S ROOM - NIGHT Mater rolls in, still `holding it in' like a kid. MATER I never leak I never leak I never leak... He sees someone leaving a stall. He heads in. IN THE STALL - Mater enters, looks up. MATER Wowee... The stall is a complicated apparatus with buttons and lights. High-tech Japanese. It suddenly GRABS MATER, hoists him up as if he's going to get an oil change. MATER What in the--- A Japanese style cartoon CARICATURE appears on a TV MONITOR, followed by images of waterfalls and rivers. MATER (GIGGLING) Hey, that tickles. The caricature starts talking in Japanese. Suddenly WATER FIRES UP underneath Mater's undercarriage, goosing him. He freaks out. OUTSIDE THE STALL - With Mater's yells audible we see a GREMLIN enter, furtive. Suddenly, inexplicably, his frame BREAKS APART like an egg, revealing an AMERICAN MUSCLE CAR underneath. The pieces of the Gremlin disappear under him, clearly his disguise. This is ROD REDLINE - American Agent. 32. ROD REDLINE Okay, McMissile. I'm here. It's time for the drop. INT. PARTY - SAME HOLLEY, rolls along by herself. Nervous. DING! Her rearview monitor springs to life. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) The American has activated his tracking beacon. FINN (OVER RADIO) Roger that. Move in. INT. BATHROOM - SAME Rod Redline, waiting at a sink, feels a presence behind him. GREM and ACER have entered, hesitate briefly when they see Rod Redline. Rod Redline, careful, slides a gun out of his tire. He is suddenly CHARGED by the AMCs --- Rod SPINS AROUND and gets a shot off but is SLAMMED HEAD FIRST. A TIGHT, CLOSE-QUARTERS FIGHT begins --- IN THE STALL - Mater, still TRAPPED, is now being SCRUBBED as if in a car wash. He is helpless. OUTSIDE THE STALL - Rod is being pulverized. Just when he scrambles away from one car, the other one takes over. IN THE STALL - Mater is mercifully released, but when he backs out --- --- Rod Redline is THROWN INTO MATER'S STALL DOOR, crunching it and sending Mater --- --- BACK INTO THE CLUTCHES of the insane toilet. INT. PARTY - SAME Holley isolates the tracking beacon's location in the party. HOLLEY Oh, you've got to be joking. FINN What's the problem, Shiftwell? HOLLEY He's in the loo. 33. FINN So go in! HOLLEY I can't just go into the men's loo. FINN Time is of the essence, Shiftwell. INT. BATHROOM - OUTSIDE THE STALL Rod Redline is in bad shape. He backs away, betrays a look of concern. He's in trouble here. ACER burns rubber, ready to finish him off. Just as he shifts into DRIVE --- --- MATER'S STALL DOOR KICKS OPEN, knocking ACER out. Mater jumps out, face-to-face GREM. MATER (out of breath) Whatever you do, I would not go in there. The door SWINGS shut, revealing the pulverized Acer. MATER A Gremlin and a Pacer! Rod Redline, now behind Mater and sensing an opportunity here, quickly produces A SMALL DEVICE. MATER (to Grem and Acer) No offense to your makes and models, but you guys break down harder than my cousin Betsy after she got left at the --- Rod Redline, surreptitiously attaches the device to Mater's undercarriage. MATER (as he's goosed) --- altar! He spins around, sees Rod Redline for the first time. MATER Are you okay? ROD REDLINE I'm fine. 34. GREM Hey. Tow truck. Mater turns back to Grem and Acer. GREM We'd like to get to our private business here, if you don't mind. MATER Oh, yeah. Don't let me get in the way of your "private business." Oh! A little advice: When you hear her giggle and see that waterfall, you best press that green button. GREM Thank you. MATER It's to adjust the temperature. ACER Got it. MATER Remember it's in Celsius, not Fahrenheit. GREM AND ACER Get outta here! MATER Alright then. Mater exits, leaving Rod Redline to a now even angrier Grem and Acer. EXT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER Holley arrives at the door. She takes a breath, is about to enter when Mater EXITS. MATER Excuse me, ma'am. He passes her, expelling some exhaust in the process. Holley's rearview tracking confirms that the device is on him. MATER (TO HIMSELF) Dadgum pistachio ice cream. 35. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) This cannot be him. FINN (OVER RADIO) Is he American? MATER (driving off, to himself) Look out, ladies. Mater's fittin' to get funky! HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Extremely. FINN (OVER RADIO) Then it's him. It's settled. Holley takes one more nervous breath, quickly closes the distance between her and Mater, cuts him off. He is forced to STOP. HOLLEY Hello. MATER Well, hello. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. MATER Well of course it doesn't. That's `cause it's air-cooled! HOLLEY (RELIEVED) Perfect. I'm from the Tokyo Station OF THE--- MATER Course, Karmann Ghia's weren't the only ones. Besides the Beetles you had your Type-3 Squarebacks, with the pancake motors... HOLLEY Yeah. Okay, I get it--- MATER ... And before both of them, there's the Type-2 buses - my buddy Fillmore's one of them. 36. HOLLEY Listen! We should find somewhere more private. MATER Uh, gee. Don't you think that's a little, uh --- HOLLEY (NERVOUS ENERGY) You're right. Impossible to know which areas here are compromised. So, when can I see you again? MATER Well, let's see. Tomorrow I'll be out there at the races. HOLLEY Got it. We'll rendezvous then. INT. PARTY - MOMENTS LATER Mater returns to his team, lost in thought. MCQUEEN There you are. Where have you been? MATER What's a rendezvous? LUIGI It's like a date. MATER A date?! MCQUEEN Mater, what's going on? MATER Well, what's going on is I've got me a date tomorrow. Guido makes a crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido don't believe you. MATER Well, believe it. My new girlfriend just said so. Hey, there she is. Mater points out Holley, who's within earshot. 37. MATER (YELLING) Hey! Hey lady! Holley, caught in plain view, DRIVES OFF. MATER See ya tomorrow! Guido makes another crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido still don't believe you. EXT. SHIPYARD - THE DOCKS - TOKYO NIGHT An industrial dock, outside of the city proper. INT. SHIPYARD - NIGHT Rod Redline dangles from a car magnet. He's been beaten up, clings to consciousness. GREM (O.S.) I gotta admit --- Grem, Acer, and a bunch of nasty looking troublemakers look up at Rod amidst crates and shipping containers. GREM --- you tricked us real good. ACER And we don't like being tricked. Rod Redline laughs to himself. ACER Hey, what's so funny? ROD REDLINE Well, you know, I was just wearing a disguise. You guys are stuck looking like that. This doesn't help him. They DROP HIM onto a TREADMILL, lock him down. A container is wheeled forward and Rod is plied with Allinol brand gasoline. ROD REDLINE Allinol? Thanks, fellas. I hear this stuff is good for you. 38. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (O.S.) So you think. The Professor emerges from the darkness, behind Rod. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Allinol by itself is good for you. Zundapp hits a button and the TREADMILL starts Rod's wheels spinning at a high rate of speed. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP But after microscopic examination, I have found that it has one small weakness. When hit with an electromagnetic pulse, it becomes extremely dangerous. GREM SMILE --- Grem pushes a World Grand Prix CAMERA - the same one that was in the box back at the oil derrick. He points it at Rod Redline. GREM --- for the camera. ROD REDLINE Is that all you want? I got a whole act. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You were very interested in this camera on the oil platform. Now you will witness what it really does. ROD REDLINE Whatever you say, Professor. Acer pushes a TV MONITOR toward Rod. On it, surveillance footage from the party. Clearly, they were watching and recording him there. ACER You talked up a lot of cars last night. Which one's your associate? ROD REDLINE Your mother. Oh no, I'm sorry. It was your sister. You know, I can't tell them apart these days. 39. GREM (HAD ENOUGH) Could I start it now, Professor? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Fifty percent power. (to Rod Redline) This camera is actually an electromagnetic pulse emitter. ACER (re: a girl on the TV) What about her? Did you give it to her? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The Allinol is now heating to a boil, dramatically expanding, causing the engine block to crack under the stress, forcing oil into the combustion chamber. Rod Redline's engine starts to CRACK and BREAK. ACER (re: a guy on the TV) How about him? You talk to him? ROD REDLINE (to Professor Zundapp) What do I care? I can replace an engine block. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You may be able to, but after full impact of the pulse, unfortunately, there will be nothing to replace. ACER How about him? Does he have it? The monitor reveals MATER, rolling out of the bathroom and down the hall. Rod Redline, seeing this, does the world's most subtle double take. We caught it, but there's no way anyone else in the room could have --- PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP That's him. He's the one. GREM Roger that, Professor Z. 40. ROD REDLINE No! As Grem turns up the machine even MORE, the Professor makes a call. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (INTO PHONE) Yes sir. We believe the infiltrator has passed along sensitive information. (beat, listening) I will take care of it before any damage can be done. The Professor hangs up, turns to the room. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The project is still on schedule. You will find this second agent --- Zundapp kicks the camera's power into the RED. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP --- and kill him. On the MONITOR - With Mater's frozen image on the screen we see Rod EXPLODE in the reflection. EXT. JAPAN - DAY Over television pre-roll of Japan: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Japan. Land of the rising sun. Where ancient tradition meets modern technology. Welcome to the inaugural running of the World Grand Prix. ON OUR ANNOUNCERS as they introduce themselves: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER I'm Brent Mustangburger, here with racing legends Darrell Cartrip and David Hobbscap. There's never been a competition like this before. SHOTS OF THE PITS as the racers fuel up. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) First, Allinol, making its debut tonight as the required fuel for all these great champions. (MORE) 41. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) (CONT'D) Second, the course itself, and it's like nothing we've ever seen. David, how exactly does this competition work? DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Well, Brent, all three of these street courses are classic round- the-house racetracks. OUTLINES OF THREE RACE COURSES are shown. They're labeled Japan, Italy and England, and are different in shape and size. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) This means that the LMP and Formula cars should break out of the gate in spectacular fashion. SHOTS OF THE RACERS as they weave up the track, practicing. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Look for Francesco Bernoulli in particular to lead early. SHOTS OF Francesco, featured in an inset. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) And with a series of technical turns throughout --- MORE SHOTS of the course, now highlighting the tech turns. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) GT and Touring cars like Spain's Miguel Camino should make up some ground but I doubt it'll be enough to stop Francesco from absolutely running away with it. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Woah, now just hold your horsepower. You're forgetting the most important factor here. That early dirt track section of the course! The dirt is supposed to be the great equalizer in this race. GRAPHICS OF THE COURSES now isolate a stretch after the first couple turns, label it "DIRT SECTIONS." 42. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) French Rally car Raoul aRoule is counting on a big boost headed through there. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) And don't forget Lightning McQueen! His mentor, the Hudson Hornet, was one of the greatest dirt track racers of all time. In my opinion, McQueen is the best all-around racer in this competition. BACK IN THE STUDIO DAVID HOBBSCAP Really, Darrell, I think you need to clean your windshield. You're clearly not seeing this for what it is: Francesco's race to lose. EXT. STARTING LINE - DAY BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) It's time to find out. The racers are locking into the grid --- Engines rev as everyone gets ready to go. Everyone's bright eyed and alert except for McQueen who we find in the back of the grid. He CLOSES his eyes. MCQUEEN (TO HIMSELF) Speed. I am speed. A LAUGH O.S. McQueen opens his eyes. Francesco is next to him on the grid. FRANCESCO Really? You are "speed"? Then Francesco is triple speed. (closes his eyes) Francesco. Is. Triple speed. Francesco likes this, McQueen. It's really getting him into the zone! MCQUEEN He is so getting beat today. The starting lights click down from RED to YELLOW to GREEN. The race begins. Francesco quickly grabs the lead. He's pulling away within seconds. 43. ON PIT ROW - We TRACK PAST as the various Crew Chiefs on their crash carts bark orders to their racers. We end on Team McQueen. No Crew Chief, just a solid looking team. SARGE His suspension stats look good. LUIGI Tire pressure is excellent. FILLMORE He's got plenty of fuel. MATER And he's awesome! CUT TO: The same view of Mater but now THROUGH A TELESCOPIC DISPLAY. Reveal Finn and Holley watching from high above in a downtown office building, behind reflective glass. HOLLEY Why is he in the pits? He's so exposed. FINN It's his cover. One of the best I've seen, too. Look at the detail on that rust. It must have cost him a fortune. HOLLEY But why hasn't he contacted us yet? FINN There's probably heat on him. Be patient. HOLLEY Right, of course. He'll signal us when he can. FINN And then we find out who's behind all this. ON THE TRACK - VARIOUS SHOTS OF THE RACE through Tokyo as Francesco extends his lead and McQueen attempts to make up ground. 44. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - Mater watches the monitors, sees them approaching the dirt section. MATER McQueen! It's time to make your move. Get on the outside and show 'em what Doc done taught you. MCQUEEN (OVER RADIO) Ten four, Mater. ON THE TRACK - Francesco hits the dirt section and loses all control. He SLAMS to a halt, his tires getting no traction. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Francesco is brought to a screeching halt! MCQUEEN skids into view, turning right to go left, passing Francesco, followed by other cars --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Lightning McQueen is the first to take advantage. And just like that, folks, Francesco's lead is left in the dust. MCQUEEN Nice call, Mater. Keep it up! McQueen now leads the pack, zooming out of the dirt now starting to relax. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Who-hoo! Man, McQueen looks happier than a rollbar at a demolition derby! ON PAVED ROAD AGAIN - MOMENTS LATER The field of cars thunders into a tunnel. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Everyone's jostling for position as we hit the asphalt again. Francesco crests the hill, in last place. He bites down, determined, then CHASES. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco lost a lot of momentum in the dirt. He's got some serious work ahead of him if he wants to get back in this race. 45. VARIOUS SHOTS OF TOKYO as the racers move through the Rainbow Bridge. Bit by bit, Francesco ekes his way toward the front, toward Lightning McQueen as we CUT TO --- --- A ROOFTOP, and a VIEW THROUGH THE WGP CAMERA LENS. Grem and Acer are manning this one. They focus it on the racers as they approach. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (OVER RADIO) It is time. GREM Roger that. ON THE TRACK - A racer (Miguel Camino) suddenly PLUMES WITH SMOKE and skids out. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Oh! Miguel Camino has blown an engine! BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Very unusual, Darrell. He's been so consistent all year. Camino quickly pits, passing McQueen's pit where Mater is visible. ON GREM AND ACER, watching from above. GREM You gotta be kidding me. ACER What is it? GREM It's that tow truck from the bathroom. ACER The one from the bathroom? GREM Yeah, the one the American Agent passed the device to. ACER What about him? GREM What about him? He's in the pits! 46. ACER Not for long. Acer exits, with purpose. ON FINN AND HOLLEY, still in their office hideaway. Holley's onboard computer flashes an ALERT. HOLLEY Hold on. I think I've got something. FINN What is it? HOLLEY The Pacer from the party last night. She's spotted Acer, moving swiftly forward. HOLLEY Cross-referencing with the photos from the oil derricks... Yep. His VIN numbers match. FINN Anyone with him? He won't be alone. HOLLEY Conducting analysis on the target. The computer finds more and more bad guy Pacers and Gremlins are in the crowd. HOLLEY He's not the only one here. Three... five... they're everywhere. And they're all closing in on... oh no. We PAN OVER to see it's MATER. HOLLEY Finn? Finn, where are you? She turns. He's GONE, leaving only an open window. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of the pits now! IN MCQUEEN'S PIT. A car WHIPS BY O.S. 47. MATER Wow! Some of them fellers is really loud. HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Can you hear me? Over. MATER Uh, what? HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Get out of the pit now. Do you hear me? Mater realizes this girl has somehow broken into his radio. MATER (INTO RADIO) Hey, I know you. You're that girl from the party last night. You wanna do our date right now? ON THE TRACK - McQueen boxes out Francesco, holds his slim lead, but barely. MCQUEEN Guys, a little too much chatter. Let's keep this line clear. BOOM! A racer behind McQueen suddenly expels black smoke, skids out of control. ON GREM - laughing. That was clearly his handiwork. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - SAME HOLLEY (ON MATER'S RADIO) There's no time for messing about. You've got to get out of the pits. MATER Is there gonna be cable where you is so I can watch the rest of the race? ON HOLLEY - Watching from the downtown building. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) You're running out of time! FINN (OVER RADIO) They're coming, Shiftwell. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Yes, I know. 48. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of there. HOLLEY (TO FINN) I'm trying. (TO MATER) Get out now! We CUT BACK TO --- --- MATER. He gives in, exits the pit. MATER Well, all right but I usually like to have a proper detailing done before I meet a lady friend. He moves toward the back PIT DOOR, is about to open it. OUTSIDE THE PITS - ACER and another Pacer approach McQueen's pit door on the other side. Ready to pounce. The doors OPEN, REVEALING --- --- Finn, holding a fire extinguisher. ACER Finn McMissile? But you're dead! FINN Then this shouldn't hurt at all. He empties the extinguisher in their eyes, speeds past. They try and follow, but have been blinded. One of them crashes right into a COP. ON FINN - Already on the move, along a side street. FINN Miss Shiftwell? ON HOLLEY - Tracking everything on a grid map. Mater looks like Pac Man, weaving through the streets as bad guys close in all around him. HOLLEY I've got him in the back alleys east of the garages. Multiple assailants are closing in quickly. FINN (OVER RADIO) Keep him moving. I'm on my way. ON MATER - He turns a corner, sees a flower shop. 49. MATER Hey, new lady friend? You like flowers? ON THE TRACK - McQueen, hearing this, is taken aback. MCQUEEN What? ON MATER - Slowing at the flower shop. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go 'in' anywhere. Just keep moving. MATER Stay outside. Gotcha. ON THE TRACK MCQUEEN Outside? McQueen drifts outside allowing Francesco to slip past! FRANCESCO Grazie and arrivaderci! DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) I cannot believe what I just saw, Brent. That was a bonehead move. You don't open up the inside like that! IN THE BACK ALLEYS - As Mater moves on he's followed by Pacers and Gremlins. Suddenly --- --- CABLES whip in front of them, pulling over flower vending machines and sending the shop's owners into a frenzy. They direct their attention to the AMCs, who try and explain. ON FINN, admiring his handiwork as he appears. Just as he turns to leave he's BROADSIDED and pushed INTO A DARK ALLEY. IN THE ALLEY - Finn finds himself boxed by two Pacers and pushed toward --- --- ACER, who now holds a FLAME THROWER. ACER This time I'm gonna make sure you stay dead. He hits the flame. WHOOOSSSH!! 50. ON ANOTHER STREET - Mater clicks along, still looking for Holley. Just as he passes the alley entrance where Finn stares down death: HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) You're doing brilliantly. Now just stay focused. MATER What's that? You want me to head toward that ruckus? Mater turns INTO the alley. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go down that street! IN THE ALLEY - Finn, now nearly pushed completely into the flame thrower, leaps into the air. He FIGHTS BACK, using his wheels, axle, indeed his entire car frame as if he were human, kicking and tossing and shooting his enemies. Mater witnesses the whole thing. MATER Wow! A live karate demonstration! ON THE TRACK - McQueen, now playing catch-up again, scowls. MCQUEEN Stop it, Mater. Just sign off. IN THE BACK ALLEY - Finn polishes off the AMCs by firing a bullet into a gas main line, causing an EXPLOSION that tosses Acer through the air where he lands in a NOODLE SHOP'S SIGN. ON THE TRACK - The end of the race is nigh --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) They're bumper to bumper as they approach the finish line! The Formula car gets there first. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco's the winner, McQueen's number two! IN THE ALLEY - Finn heaves breaths, surveys his damage. MATER That was cool! Hey, can I get your autograph? 51. Mater approaches when a MASS OF RACE FANS burst out a door, momentarily blocking Mater's view of Finn. Once the fans have past, Finn has disappeared. MATER Hey, where'd he go? HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) Our rendezvous has been jeopardized. Keep the device safe. We'll be in touch. MATER Dadgum, did I miss our date? EXT. PRESS STAGE - LATER Post race press conference. Francesco is center stage. DARRELL CARTRIP Francesco, over here! Hey, what was your strategy today? FRANCESCO Strategia? Francesco needs no strategy, it's very simple. You start the race, wait for Lightning McQueen to choke, pass him, then win. Francesco always wins. It's boring. McQueen, waiting in the wings, rolls his eyes. He suddenly notices something O.S. McQueen's P.O.V. - It's MATER, appearing from a side street, moving toward the pits, oblivious of the press conference. DARRELL CARTRIP (TO FRANCESCO) I gotta tell you, dude. You were in trouble for awhile. That dirt track section had you crawling! As McQueen SNEAKS AWAY --- FRANCESCO To truly crush one's dream, you must first raise their hopes very high. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT GARAGE - Mater looks around for everyone as McQueen approaches. 52. MCQUEEN Mater. MATER Hey McQueen! What happened? Is the race over? You won, right? MCQUEEN Mater, why were you yelling things at me while I was racing? MATER Yelling? Oh, you thought... that's funny right there. Nah, see that's `cause I seen these two fellers doing some sort of karate street performance. It was nutso. One of them even had a flamethrower --- MCQUEEN A flamethrower? What are you talking about? I don't understand. Where were you? MATER Going to meet my date. MCQUEEN Your date? MATER She started talking to me as a voice in my head, telling me where to go --- MCQUEEN What? MATER Wait a minute -- I didn't screw you up, did I? MCQUEEN I lost the race because of you! MATER Well, I'm sorry. I didn't mean --- MCQUEEN An imaginary girlfriend, flamethrowers. This is exactly why I don't bring you along to these things. 53. MATER Maybe if I, I don't know, talked to somebody and explained what happened I could help. MCQUEEN I don't need your help. I don't want your help. PRESS (O.S.) Hey, there he is!! The press finds McQueen, swarms him. Mater is pushed backwards as the questions fly again. PRESS - McQueen, you had it in the bag! - Yeah, what happened? MCQUEEN I made a mistake. But I can assure you, it won't happen again. On Mater. He takes this badly. MCQUEEN Look, guys. We know what the problem is and we've taken care of it. SMASH TO: OVER FOOTAGE OF FRANCESCO and various other highlights: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER Lightning McQueen loses in the last lap to Francesco Bernoulli in the first race of the World Grand Prix and three, count em, three cars

rampant

How many times the word 'rampant' appears in the text?

Finn. Meet HOLLEY SHIFTWELL. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. FINN That's because it's air-cooled. HOLLEY I'm Agent Shiftwell, Holley Shiftwell from the Tokyo Station. I have a message from London. FINN Not here. (LOUDLY) You must try the canapes on the mezzanine! He moves her onto an elevator. The doors close on them. IN THE ELEVATOR, GOING UP. FINN So the lab boys analyzed the photo I sent? What did they learn about the camera? HOLLEY It appears to be a standard television camera. They said if you could get closer photos next time, that would be great. FINN This was London's message? 27. HOLLEY Oh -- no, no. No sir. Um, the oil platforms you were on? Turns out they're sitting on the biggest oil reserve in the world. FINN How did we miss that? HOLLEY They'd been scrambling everyone's satellites. The Americans actually discovered it just before you did. They placed an agent on that platform, under deep cover. He was able to get a photo of the car who's running the entire operation. The doors OPEN and they exit onto the Mezzanine. FINN Who is it? Has anyone seen the photo yet? HOLLEY No, not yet. The American is here tonight to pass it to you. He'll signal you when he's ready. FINN GOOD --- Finn suddenly STOPS COLD. FINN Oh no. Professor Zundapp is visible below them. He talks with a few Pacers and Gremlins. Finn quickly retreats into the shadows. Holley follows suit. HOLLEY What is it? FINN Change of plan. You're meeting the American. HOLLEY What, me? 28. FINN Those thugs down there were on the oil platform. If they see me, the whole mission is compromised. HOLLEY No, no. I'm technical, you see. I'm in Diagnostics. I'm not a field agent. FINN You are now. CUT TO: MATER as he grabs a drink, keeps moving. MATER I'll take one of them. He snatches it, drops it in the back where we now see a large assortment of drinks balanced. MATER Never know which one McQueen'll have a hankering for. He approaches a sushi bar. MATER Hey, what you got here that's free? How about that pistachio ice cream? He refers to wasabi, of course. SUSHI CHEF No, no. Wasabi. MATER Oh, same ol', same ol'. What's up with you? That looks delicious. The chef starts to carve a small scoop aside for Mater. MATER Uh, a little more, please. It is free, right? (the chef adds more) Keep it coming. A little more. Come on, let's go, it's free! You're getting there... Scoop scoop! The chef gives in. Scoops a baseball-sized ball out. 29. MATER There you go. Now THAT's a scoop of ice cream. SUSHI CHEF (in Japanese, subtitles) My condolences. CUT BACK TO: MILES AXLEROD - He's now nearly done with his intros. MILES AXLEROD ... and now, our last competitor --- Number 95, Lightning McQueen! MCQUEEN approaches the microphone, flashes his headlights. MCQUEEN Thank you so much for having us, Sir Axlerod. I really look forward to racing. This is a great opportunity. MILES AXLEROD Oh, the pleasure is all ours, Lightning. You and your team bring excellence and professionalism to this competition. As if on cue, Mater arrives with a piercing scream of pain. Everyone turns as he charges head first toward the stage, making a bee-line for that FOUNTAIN. MATER Somebody get me water! He laps up water from the fountain like a diabetic cat. MATER (LAPPING WATER) Sweet relief... Miles Axlerod is shocked. The crowd can't believe it. Francesco cackles. Mater, now sated, approaches the mic. MATER (to the crowd) Whatever you do, do not eat the free pistachio ice cream. It has turned! MCQUEEN Sir Axlerod, I can explain. This is Mater. 30. MILES AXLEROD I know him. This is the bloke that called into the television show. (TO MATER) You're the one I have to thank. MATER No, thank you. This trip's been amazing. MILES AXLEROD (TO MCQUEEN) He's a little excited, isn't he? TILT DOWN to reveal a pool of oil beneath Mater. MCQUEEN Mater! MATER But wait, I... oh, shoot. McQueen quickly pulls Mater aside, out of earshot of Miles Axlerod and the others. McQueen is beside himself. MCQUEEN Mater, you have to get a hold of yourself. You're making a scene. MATER But I never leak oil. Never. MCQUEEN Go take care of yourself right now. Mater drives off. ON MATER - MOMENTS LATER He drives through the party, frantic. MATER Coming through! Excuse me, leakin' oil. Where's the bathroom? Thank you. I gotta go! Someone points Mater down a hallway. He whips around the CORNER --- --- and STOPS. Finds himself in front of TWO BATHROOM DOORS, neither of which clearly indicate MALE or FEMALE. 31. MATER (CONFUSED) What the... Mater chooses one, drives inside. A SHRIEK is heard and Mater zips out. MATER Sorry ladies! He heads into the other door --- CUT TO: INT. MEN'S ROOM - NIGHT Mater rolls in, still `holding it in' like a kid. MATER I never leak I never leak I never leak... He sees someone leaving a stall. He heads in. IN THE STALL - Mater enters, looks up. MATER Wowee... The stall is a complicated apparatus with buttons and lights. High-tech Japanese. It suddenly GRABS MATER, hoists him up as if he's going to get an oil change. MATER What in the--- A Japanese style cartoon CARICATURE appears on a TV MONITOR, followed by images of waterfalls and rivers. MATER (GIGGLING) Hey, that tickles. The caricature starts talking in Japanese. Suddenly WATER FIRES UP underneath Mater's undercarriage, goosing him. He freaks out. OUTSIDE THE STALL - With Mater's yells audible we see a GREMLIN enter, furtive. Suddenly, inexplicably, his frame BREAKS APART like an egg, revealing an AMERICAN MUSCLE CAR underneath. The pieces of the Gremlin disappear under him, clearly his disguise. This is ROD REDLINE - American Agent. 32. ROD REDLINE Okay, McMissile. I'm here. It's time for the drop. INT. PARTY - SAME HOLLEY, rolls along by herself. Nervous. DING! Her rearview monitor springs to life. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) The American has activated his tracking beacon. FINN (OVER RADIO) Roger that. Move in. INT. BATHROOM - SAME Rod Redline, waiting at a sink, feels a presence behind him. GREM and ACER have entered, hesitate briefly when they see Rod Redline. Rod Redline, careful, slides a gun out of his tire. He is suddenly CHARGED by the AMCs --- Rod SPINS AROUND and gets a shot off but is SLAMMED HEAD FIRST. A TIGHT, CLOSE-QUARTERS FIGHT begins --- IN THE STALL - Mater, still TRAPPED, is now being SCRUBBED as if in a car wash. He is helpless. OUTSIDE THE STALL - Rod is being pulverized. Just when he scrambles away from one car, the other one takes over. IN THE STALL - Mater is mercifully released, but when he backs out --- --- Rod Redline is THROWN INTO MATER'S STALL DOOR, crunching it and sending Mater --- --- BACK INTO THE CLUTCHES of the insane toilet. INT. PARTY - SAME Holley isolates the tracking beacon's location in the party. HOLLEY Oh, you've got to be joking. FINN What's the problem, Shiftwell? HOLLEY He's in the loo. 33. FINN So go in! HOLLEY I can't just go into the men's loo. FINN Time is of the essence, Shiftwell. INT. BATHROOM - OUTSIDE THE STALL Rod Redline is in bad shape. He backs away, betrays a look of concern. He's in trouble here. ACER burns rubber, ready to finish him off. Just as he shifts into DRIVE --- --- MATER'S STALL DOOR KICKS OPEN, knocking ACER out. Mater jumps out, face-to-face GREM. MATER (out of breath) Whatever you do, I would not go in there. The door SWINGS shut, revealing the pulverized Acer. MATER A Gremlin and a Pacer! Rod Redline, now behind Mater and sensing an opportunity here, quickly produces A SMALL DEVICE. MATER (to Grem and Acer) No offense to your makes and models, but you guys break down harder than my cousin Betsy after she got left at the --- Rod Redline, surreptitiously attaches the device to Mater's undercarriage. MATER (as he's goosed) --- altar! He spins around, sees Rod Redline for the first time. MATER Are you okay? ROD REDLINE I'm fine. 34. GREM Hey. Tow truck. Mater turns back to Grem and Acer. GREM We'd like to get to our private business here, if you don't mind. MATER Oh, yeah. Don't let me get in the way of your "private business." Oh! A little advice: When you hear her giggle and see that waterfall, you best press that green button. GREM Thank you. MATER It's to adjust the temperature. ACER Got it. MATER Remember it's in Celsius, not Fahrenheit. GREM AND ACER Get outta here! MATER Alright then. Mater exits, leaving Rod Redline to a now even angrier Grem and Acer. EXT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER Holley arrives at the door. She takes a breath, is about to enter when Mater EXITS. MATER Excuse me, ma'am. He passes her, expelling some exhaust in the process. Holley's rearview tracking confirms that the device is on him. MATER (TO HIMSELF) Dadgum pistachio ice cream. 35. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) This cannot be him. FINN (OVER RADIO) Is he American? MATER (driving off, to himself) Look out, ladies. Mater's fittin' to get funky! HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Extremely. FINN (OVER RADIO) Then it's him. It's settled. Holley takes one more nervous breath, quickly closes the distance between her and Mater, cuts him off. He is forced to STOP. HOLLEY Hello. MATER Well, hello. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. MATER Well of course it doesn't. That's `cause it's air-cooled! HOLLEY (RELIEVED) Perfect. I'm from the Tokyo Station OF THE--- MATER Course, Karmann Ghia's weren't the only ones. Besides the Beetles you had your Type-3 Squarebacks, with the pancake motors... HOLLEY Yeah. Okay, I get it--- MATER ... And before both of them, there's the Type-2 buses - my buddy Fillmore's one of them. 36. HOLLEY Listen! We should find somewhere more private. MATER Uh, gee. Don't you think that's a little, uh --- HOLLEY (NERVOUS ENERGY) You're right. Impossible to know which areas here are compromised. So, when can I see you again? MATER Well, let's see. Tomorrow I'll be out there at the races. HOLLEY Got it. We'll rendezvous then. INT. PARTY - MOMENTS LATER Mater returns to his team, lost in thought. MCQUEEN There you are. Where have you been? MATER What's a rendezvous? LUIGI It's like a date. MATER A date?! MCQUEEN Mater, what's going on? MATER Well, what's going on is I've got me a date tomorrow. Guido makes a crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido don't believe you. MATER Well, believe it. My new girlfriend just said so. Hey, there she is. Mater points out Holley, who's within earshot. 37. MATER (YELLING) Hey! Hey lady! Holley, caught in plain view, DRIVES OFF. MATER See ya tomorrow! Guido makes another crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido still don't believe you. EXT. SHIPYARD - THE DOCKS - TOKYO NIGHT An industrial dock, outside of the city proper. INT. SHIPYARD - NIGHT Rod Redline dangles from a car magnet. He's been beaten up, clings to consciousness. GREM (O.S.) I gotta admit --- Grem, Acer, and a bunch of nasty looking troublemakers look up at Rod amidst crates and shipping containers. GREM --- you tricked us real good. ACER And we don't like being tricked. Rod Redline laughs to himself. ACER Hey, what's so funny? ROD REDLINE Well, you know, I was just wearing a disguise. You guys are stuck looking like that. This doesn't help him. They DROP HIM onto a TREADMILL, lock him down. A container is wheeled forward and Rod is plied with Allinol brand gasoline. ROD REDLINE Allinol? Thanks, fellas. I hear this stuff is good for you. 38. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (O.S.) So you think. The Professor emerges from the darkness, behind Rod. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Allinol by itself is good for you. Zundapp hits a button and the TREADMILL starts Rod's wheels spinning at a high rate of speed. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP But after microscopic examination, I have found that it has one small weakness. When hit with an electromagnetic pulse, it becomes extremely dangerous. GREM SMILE --- Grem pushes a World Grand Prix CAMERA - the same one that was in the box back at the oil derrick. He points it at Rod Redline. GREM --- for the camera. ROD REDLINE Is that all you want? I got a whole act. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You were very interested in this camera on the oil platform. Now you will witness what it really does. ROD REDLINE Whatever you say, Professor. Acer pushes a TV MONITOR toward Rod. On it, surveillance footage from the party. Clearly, they were watching and recording him there. ACER You talked up a lot of cars last night. Which one's your associate? ROD REDLINE Your mother. Oh no, I'm sorry. It was your sister. You know, I can't tell them apart these days. 39. GREM (HAD ENOUGH) Could I start it now, Professor? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Fifty percent power. (to Rod Redline) This camera is actually an electromagnetic pulse emitter. ACER (re: a girl on the TV) What about her? Did you give it to her? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The Allinol is now heating to a boil, dramatically expanding, causing the engine block to crack under the stress, forcing oil into the combustion chamber. Rod Redline's engine starts to CRACK and BREAK. ACER (re: a guy on the TV) How about him? You talk to him? ROD REDLINE (to Professor Zundapp) What do I care? I can replace an engine block. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You may be able to, but after full impact of the pulse, unfortunately, there will be nothing to replace. ACER How about him? Does he have it? The monitor reveals MATER, rolling out of the bathroom and down the hall. Rod Redline, seeing this, does the world's most subtle double take. We caught it, but there's no way anyone else in the room could have --- PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP That's him. He's the one. GREM Roger that, Professor Z. 40. ROD REDLINE No! As Grem turns up the machine even MORE, the Professor makes a call. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (INTO PHONE) Yes sir. We believe the infiltrator has passed along sensitive information. (beat, listening) I will take care of it before any damage can be done. The Professor hangs up, turns to the room. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The project is still on schedule. You will find this second agent --- Zundapp kicks the camera's power into the RED. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP --- and kill him. On the MONITOR - With Mater's frozen image on the screen we see Rod EXPLODE in the reflection. EXT. JAPAN - DAY Over television pre-roll of Japan: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Japan. Land of the rising sun. Where ancient tradition meets modern technology. Welcome to the inaugural running of the World Grand Prix. ON OUR ANNOUNCERS as they introduce themselves: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER I'm Brent Mustangburger, here with racing legends Darrell Cartrip and David Hobbscap. There's never been a competition like this before. SHOTS OF THE PITS as the racers fuel up. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) First, Allinol, making its debut tonight as the required fuel for all these great champions. (MORE) 41. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) (CONT'D) Second, the course itself, and it's like nothing we've ever seen. David, how exactly does this competition work? DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Well, Brent, all three of these street courses are classic round- the-house racetracks. OUTLINES OF THREE RACE COURSES are shown. They're labeled Japan, Italy and England, and are different in shape and size. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) This means that the LMP and Formula cars should break out of the gate in spectacular fashion. SHOTS OF THE RACERS as they weave up the track, practicing. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Look for Francesco Bernoulli in particular to lead early. SHOTS OF Francesco, featured in an inset. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) And with a series of technical turns throughout --- MORE SHOTS of the course, now highlighting the tech turns. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) GT and Touring cars like Spain's Miguel Camino should make up some ground but I doubt it'll be enough to stop Francesco from absolutely running away with it. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Woah, now just hold your horsepower. You're forgetting the most important factor here. That early dirt track section of the course! The dirt is supposed to be the great equalizer in this race. GRAPHICS OF THE COURSES now isolate a stretch after the first couple turns, label it "DIRT SECTIONS." 42. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) French Rally car Raoul aRoule is counting on a big boost headed through there. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) And don't forget Lightning McQueen! His mentor, the Hudson Hornet, was one of the greatest dirt track racers of all time. In my opinion, McQueen is the best all-around racer in this competition. BACK IN THE STUDIO DAVID HOBBSCAP Really, Darrell, I think you need to clean your windshield. You're clearly not seeing this for what it is: Francesco's race to lose. EXT. STARTING LINE - DAY BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) It's time to find out. The racers are locking into the grid --- Engines rev as everyone gets ready to go. Everyone's bright eyed and alert except for McQueen who we find in the back of the grid. He CLOSES his eyes. MCQUEEN (TO HIMSELF) Speed. I am speed. A LAUGH O.S. McQueen opens his eyes. Francesco is next to him on the grid. FRANCESCO Really? You are "speed"? Then Francesco is triple speed. (closes his eyes) Francesco. Is. Triple speed. Francesco likes this, McQueen. It's really getting him into the zone! MCQUEEN He is so getting beat today. The starting lights click down from RED to YELLOW to GREEN. The race begins. Francesco quickly grabs the lead. He's pulling away within seconds. 43. ON PIT ROW - We TRACK PAST as the various Crew Chiefs on their crash carts bark orders to their racers. We end on Team McQueen. No Crew Chief, just a solid looking team. SARGE His suspension stats look good. LUIGI Tire pressure is excellent. FILLMORE He's got plenty of fuel. MATER And he's awesome! CUT TO: The same view of Mater but now THROUGH A TELESCOPIC DISPLAY. Reveal Finn and Holley watching from high above in a downtown office building, behind reflective glass. HOLLEY Why is he in the pits? He's so exposed. FINN It's his cover. One of the best I've seen, too. Look at the detail on that rust. It must have cost him a fortune. HOLLEY But why hasn't he contacted us yet? FINN There's probably heat on him. Be patient. HOLLEY Right, of course. He'll signal us when he can. FINN And then we find out who's behind all this. ON THE TRACK - VARIOUS SHOTS OF THE RACE through Tokyo as Francesco extends his lead and McQueen attempts to make up ground. 44. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - Mater watches the monitors, sees them approaching the dirt section. MATER McQueen! It's time to make your move. Get on the outside and show 'em what Doc done taught you. MCQUEEN (OVER RADIO) Ten four, Mater. ON THE TRACK - Francesco hits the dirt section and loses all control. He SLAMS to a halt, his tires getting no traction. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Francesco is brought to a screeching halt! MCQUEEN skids into view, turning right to go left, passing Francesco, followed by other cars --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Lightning McQueen is the first to take advantage. And just like that, folks, Francesco's lead is left in the dust. MCQUEEN Nice call, Mater. Keep it up! McQueen now leads the pack, zooming out of the dirt now starting to relax. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Who-hoo! Man, McQueen looks happier than a rollbar at a demolition derby! ON PAVED ROAD AGAIN - MOMENTS LATER The field of cars thunders into a tunnel. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Everyone's jostling for position as we hit the asphalt again. Francesco crests the hill, in last place. He bites down, determined, then CHASES. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco lost a lot of momentum in the dirt. He's got some serious work ahead of him if he wants to get back in this race. 45. VARIOUS SHOTS OF TOKYO as the racers move through the Rainbow Bridge. Bit by bit, Francesco ekes his way toward the front, toward Lightning McQueen as we CUT TO --- --- A ROOFTOP, and a VIEW THROUGH THE WGP CAMERA LENS. Grem and Acer are manning this one. They focus it on the racers as they approach. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (OVER RADIO) It is time. GREM Roger that. ON THE TRACK - A racer (Miguel Camino) suddenly PLUMES WITH SMOKE and skids out. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Oh! Miguel Camino has blown an engine! BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Very unusual, Darrell. He's been so consistent all year. Camino quickly pits, passing McQueen's pit where Mater is visible. ON GREM AND ACER, watching from above. GREM You gotta be kidding me. ACER What is it? GREM It's that tow truck from the bathroom. ACER The one from the bathroom? GREM Yeah, the one the American Agent passed the device to. ACER What about him? GREM What about him? He's in the pits! 46. ACER Not for long. Acer exits, with purpose. ON FINN AND HOLLEY, still in their office hideaway. Holley's onboard computer flashes an ALERT. HOLLEY Hold on. I think I've got something. FINN What is it? HOLLEY The Pacer from the party last night. She's spotted Acer, moving swiftly forward. HOLLEY Cross-referencing with the photos from the oil derricks... Yep. His VIN numbers match. FINN Anyone with him? He won't be alone. HOLLEY Conducting analysis on the target. The computer finds more and more bad guy Pacers and Gremlins are in the crowd. HOLLEY He's not the only one here. Three... five... they're everywhere. And they're all closing in on... oh no. We PAN OVER to see it's MATER. HOLLEY Finn? Finn, where are you? She turns. He's GONE, leaving only an open window. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of the pits now! IN MCQUEEN'S PIT. A car WHIPS BY O.S. 47. MATER Wow! Some of them fellers is really loud. HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Can you hear me? Over. MATER Uh, what? HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Get out of the pit now. Do you hear me? Mater realizes this girl has somehow broken into his radio. MATER (INTO RADIO) Hey, I know you. You're that girl from the party last night. You wanna do our date right now? ON THE TRACK - McQueen boxes out Francesco, holds his slim lead, but barely. MCQUEEN Guys, a little too much chatter. Let's keep this line clear. BOOM! A racer behind McQueen suddenly expels black smoke, skids out of control. ON GREM - laughing. That was clearly his handiwork. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - SAME HOLLEY (ON MATER'S RADIO) There's no time for messing about. You've got to get out of the pits. MATER Is there gonna be cable where you is so I can watch the rest of the race? ON HOLLEY - Watching from the downtown building. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) You're running out of time! FINN (OVER RADIO) They're coming, Shiftwell. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Yes, I know. 48. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of there. HOLLEY (TO FINN) I'm trying. (TO MATER) Get out now! We CUT BACK TO --- --- MATER. He gives in, exits the pit. MATER Well, all right but I usually like to have a proper detailing done before I meet a lady friend. He moves toward the back PIT DOOR, is about to open it. OUTSIDE THE PITS - ACER and another Pacer approach McQueen's pit door on the other side. Ready to pounce. The doors OPEN, REVEALING --- --- Finn, holding a fire extinguisher. ACER Finn McMissile? But you're dead! FINN Then this shouldn't hurt at all. He empties the extinguisher in their eyes, speeds past. They try and follow, but have been blinded. One of them crashes right into a COP. ON FINN - Already on the move, along a side street. FINN Miss Shiftwell? ON HOLLEY - Tracking everything on a grid map. Mater looks like Pac Man, weaving through the streets as bad guys close in all around him. HOLLEY I've got him in the back alleys east of the garages. Multiple assailants are closing in quickly. FINN (OVER RADIO) Keep him moving. I'm on my way. ON MATER - He turns a corner, sees a flower shop. 49. MATER Hey, new lady friend? You like flowers? ON THE TRACK - McQueen, hearing this, is taken aback. MCQUEEN What? ON MATER - Slowing at the flower shop. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go 'in' anywhere. Just keep moving. MATER Stay outside. Gotcha. ON THE TRACK MCQUEEN Outside? McQueen drifts outside allowing Francesco to slip past! FRANCESCO Grazie and arrivaderci! DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) I cannot believe what I just saw, Brent. That was a bonehead move. You don't open up the inside like that! IN THE BACK ALLEYS - As Mater moves on he's followed by Pacers and Gremlins. Suddenly --- --- CABLES whip in front of them, pulling over flower vending machines and sending the shop's owners into a frenzy. They direct their attention to the AMCs, who try and explain. ON FINN, admiring his handiwork as he appears. Just as he turns to leave he's BROADSIDED and pushed INTO A DARK ALLEY. IN THE ALLEY - Finn finds himself boxed by two Pacers and pushed toward --- --- ACER, who now holds a FLAME THROWER. ACER This time I'm gonna make sure you stay dead. He hits the flame. WHOOOSSSH!! 50. ON ANOTHER STREET - Mater clicks along, still looking for Holley. Just as he passes the alley entrance where Finn stares down death: HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) You're doing brilliantly. Now just stay focused. MATER What's that? You want me to head toward that ruckus? Mater turns INTO the alley. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go down that street! IN THE ALLEY - Finn, now nearly pushed completely into the flame thrower, leaps into the air. He FIGHTS BACK, using his wheels, axle, indeed his entire car frame as if he were human, kicking and tossing and shooting his enemies. Mater witnesses the whole thing. MATER Wow! A live karate demonstration! ON THE TRACK - McQueen, now playing catch-up again, scowls. MCQUEEN Stop it, Mater. Just sign off. IN THE BACK ALLEY - Finn polishes off the AMCs by firing a bullet into a gas main line, causing an EXPLOSION that tosses Acer through the air where he lands in a NOODLE SHOP'S SIGN. ON THE TRACK - The end of the race is nigh --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) They're bumper to bumper as they approach the finish line! The Formula car gets there first. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco's the winner, McQueen's number two! IN THE ALLEY - Finn heaves breaths, surveys his damage. MATER That was cool! Hey, can I get your autograph? 51. Mater approaches when a MASS OF RACE FANS burst out a door, momentarily blocking Mater's view of Finn. Once the fans have past, Finn has disappeared. MATER Hey, where'd he go? HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) Our rendezvous has been jeopardized. Keep the device safe. We'll be in touch. MATER Dadgum, did I miss our date? EXT. PRESS STAGE - LATER Post race press conference. Francesco is center stage. DARRELL CARTRIP Francesco, over here! Hey, what was your strategy today? FRANCESCO Strategia? Francesco needs no strategy, it's very simple. You start the race, wait for Lightning McQueen to choke, pass him, then win. Francesco always wins. It's boring. McQueen, waiting in the wings, rolls his eyes. He suddenly notices something O.S. McQueen's P.O.V. - It's MATER, appearing from a side street, moving toward the pits, oblivious of the press conference. DARRELL CARTRIP (TO FRANCESCO) I gotta tell you, dude. You were in trouble for awhile. That dirt track section had you crawling! As McQueen SNEAKS AWAY --- FRANCESCO To truly crush one's dream, you must first raise their hopes very high. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT GARAGE - Mater looks around for everyone as McQueen approaches. 52. MCQUEEN Mater. MATER Hey McQueen! What happened? Is the race over? You won, right? MCQUEEN Mater, why were you yelling things at me while I was racing? MATER Yelling? Oh, you thought... that's funny right there. Nah, see that's `cause I seen these two fellers doing some sort of karate street performance. It was nutso. One of them even had a flamethrower --- MCQUEEN A flamethrower? What are you talking about? I don't understand. Where were you? MATER Going to meet my date. MCQUEEN Your date? MATER She started talking to me as a voice in my head, telling me where to go --- MCQUEEN What? MATER Wait a minute -- I didn't screw you up, did I? MCQUEEN I lost the race because of you! MATER Well, I'm sorry. I didn't mean --- MCQUEEN An imaginary girlfriend, flamethrowers. This is exactly why I don't bring you along to these things. 53. MATER Maybe if I, I don't know, talked to somebody and explained what happened I could help. MCQUEEN I don't need your help. I don't want your help. PRESS (O.S.) Hey, there he is!! The press finds McQueen, swarms him. Mater is pushed backwards as the questions fly again. PRESS - McQueen, you had it in the bag! - Yeah, what happened? MCQUEEN I made a mistake. But I can assure you, it won't happen again. On Mater. He takes this badly. MCQUEEN Look, guys. We know what the problem is and we've taken care of it. SMASH TO: OVER FOOTAGE OF FRANCESCO and various other highlights: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER Lightning McQueen loses in the last lap to Francesco Bernoulli in the first race of the World Grand Prix and three, count em, three cars

yourself

How many times the word 'yourself' appears in the text?

Finn. Meet HOLLEY SHIFTWELL. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. FINN That's because it's air-cooled. HOLLEY I'm Agent Shiftwell, Holley Shiftwell from the Tokyo Station. I have a message from London. FINN Not here. (LOUDLY) You must try the canapes on the mezzanine! He moves her onto an elevator. The doors close on them. IN THE ELEVATOR, GOING UP. FINN So the lab boys analyzed the photo I sent? What did they learn about the camera? HOLLEY It appears to be a standard television camera. They said if you could get closer photos next time, that would be great. FINN This was London's message? 27. HOLLEY Oh -- no, no. No sir. Um, the oil platforms you were on? Turns out they're sitting on the biggest oil reserve in the world. FINN How did we miss that? HOLLEY They'd been scrambling everyone's satellites. The Americans actually discovered it just before you did. They placed an agent on that platform, under deep cover. He was able to get a photo of the car who's running the entire operation. The doors OPEN and they exit onto the Mezzanine. FINN Who is it? Has anyone seen the photo yet? HOLLEY No, not yet. The American is here tonight to pass it to you. He'll signal you when he's ready. FINN GOOD --- Finn suddenly STOPS COLD. FINN Oh no. Professor Zundapp is visible below them. He talks with a few Pacers and Gremlins. Finn quickly retreats into the shadows. Holley follows suit. HOLLEY What is it? FINN Change of plan. You're meeting the American. HOLLEY What, me? 28. FINN Those thugs down there were on the oil platform. If they see me, the whole mission is compromised. HOLLEY No, no. I'm technical, you see. I'm in Diagnostics. I'm not a field agent. FINN You are now. CUT TO: MATER as he grabs a drink, keeps moving. MATER I'll take one of them. He snatches it, drops it in the back where we now see a large assortment of drinks balanced. MATER Never know which one McQueen'll have a hankering for. He approaches a sushi bar. MATER Hey, what you got here that's free? How about that pistachio ice cream? He refers to wasabi, of course. SUSHI CHEF No, no. Wasabi. MATER Oh, same ol', same ol'. What's up with you? That looks delicious. The chef starts to carve a small scoop aside for Mater. MATER Uh, a little more, please. It is free, right? (the chef adds more) Keep it coming. A little more. Come on, let's go, it's free! You're getting there... Scoop scoop! The chef gives in. Scoops a baseball-sized ball out. 29. MATER There you go. Now THAT's a scoop of ice cream. SUSHI CHEF (in Japanese, subtitles) My condolences. CUT BACK TO: MILES AXLEROD - He's now nearly done with his intros. MILES AXLEROD ... and now, our last competitor --- Number 95, Lightning McQueen! MCQUEEN approaches the microphone, flashes his headlights. MCQUEEN Thank you so much for having us, Sir Axlerod. I really look forward to racing. This is a great opportunity. MILES AXLEROD Oh, the pleasure is all ours, Lightning. You and your team bring excellence and professionalism to this competition. As if on cue, Mater arrives with a piercing scream of pain. Everyone turns as he charges head first toward the stage, making a bee-line for that FOUNTAIN. MATER Somebody get me water! He laps up water from the fountain like a diabetic cat. MATER (LAPPING WATER) Sweet relief... Miles Axlerod is shocked. The crowd can't believe it. Francesco cackles. Mater, now sated, approaches the mic. MATER (to the crowd) Whatever you do, do not eat the free pistachio ice cream. It has turned! MCQUEEN Sir Axlerod, I can explain. This is Mater. 30. MILES AXLEROD I know him. This is the bloke that called into the television show. (TO MATER) You're the one I have to thank. MATER No, thank you. This trip's been amazing. MILES AXLEROD (TO MCQUEEN) He's a little excited, isn't he? TILT DOWN to reveal a pool of oil beneath Mater. MCQUEEN Mater! MATER But wait, I... oh, shoot. McQueen quickly pulls Mater aside, out of earshot of Miles Axlerod and the others. McQueen is beside himself. MCQUEEN Mater, you have to get a hold of yourself. You're making a scene. MATER But I never leak oil. Never. MCQUEEN Go take care of yourself right now. Mater drives off. ON MATER - MOMENTS LATER He drives through the party, frantic. MATER Coming through! Excuse me, leakin' oil. Where's the bathroom? Thank you. I gotta go! Someone points Mater down a hallway. He whips around the CORNER --- --- and STOPS. Finds himself in front of TWO BATHROOM DOORS, neither of which clearly indicate MALE or FEMALE. 31. MATER (CONFUSED) What the... Mater chooses one, drives inside. A SHRIEK is heard and Mater zips out. MATER Sorry ladies! He heads into the other door --- CUT TO: INT. MEN'S ROOM - NIGHT Mater rolls in, still `holding it in' like a kid. MATER I never leak I never leak I never leak... He sees someone leaving a stall. He heads in. IN THE STALL - Mater enters, looks up. MATER Wowee... The stall is a complicated apparatus with buttons and lights. High-tech Japanese. It suddenly GRABS MATER, hoists him up as if he's going to get an oil change. MATER What in the--- A Japanese style cartoon CARICATURE appears on a TV MONITOR, followed by images of waterfalls and rivers. MATER (GIGGLING) Hey, that tickles. The caricature starts talking in Japanese. Suddenly WATER FIRES UP underneath Mater's undercarriage, goosing him. He freaks out. OUTSIDE THE STALL - With Mater's yells audible we see a GREMLIN enter, furtive. Suddenly, inexplicably, his frame BREAKS APART like an egg, revealing an AMERICAN MUSCLE CAR underneath. The pieces of the Gremlin disappear under him, clearly his disguise. This is ROD REDLINE - American Agent. 32. ROD REDLINE Okay, McMissile. I'm here. It's time for the drop. INT. PARTY - SAME HOLLEY, rolls along by herself. Nervous. DING! Her rearview monitor springs to life. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) The American has activated his tracking beacon. FINN (OVER RADIO) Roger that. Move in. INT. BATHROOM - SAME Rod Redline, waiting at a sink, feels a presence behind him. GREM and ACER have entered, hesitate briefly when they see Rod Redline. Rod Redline, careful, slides a gun out of his tire. He is suddenly CHARGED by the AMCs --- Rod SPINS AROUND and gets a shot off but is SLAMMED HEAD FIRST. A TIGHT, CLOSE-QUARTERS FIGHT begins --- IN THE STALL - Mater, still TRAPPED, is now being SCRUBBED as if in a car wash. He is helpless. OUTSIDE THE STALL - Rod is being pulverized. Just when he scrambles away from one car, the other one takes over. IN THE STALL - Mater is mercifully released, but when he backs out --- --- Rod Redline is THROWN INTO MATER'S STALL DOOR, crunching it and sending Mater --- --- BACK INTO THE CLUTCHES of the insane toilet. INT. PARTY - SAME Holley isolates the tracking beacon's location in the party. HOLLEY Oh, you've got to be joking. FINN What's the problem, Shiftwell? HOLLEY He's in the loo. 33. FINN So go in! HOLLEY I can't just go into the men's loo. FINN Time is of the essence, Shiftwell. INT. BATHROOM - OUTSIDE THE STALL Rod Redline is in bad shape. He backs away, betrays a look of concern. He's in trouble here. ACER burns rubber, ready to finish him off. Just as he shifts into DRIVE --- --- MATER'S STALL DOOR KICKS OPEN, knocking ACER out. Mater jumps out, face-to-face GREM. MATER (out of breath) Whatever you do, I would not go in there. The door SWINGS shut, revealing the pulverized Acer. MATER A Gremlin and a Pacer! Rod Redline, now behind Mater and sensing an opportunity here, quickly produces A SMALL DEVICE. MATER (to Grem and Acer) No offense to your makes and models, but you guys break down harder than my cousin Betsy after she got left at the --- Rod Redline, surreptitiously attaches the device to Mater's undercarriage. MATER (as he's goosed) --- altar! He spins around, sees Rod Redline for the first time. MATER Are you okay? ROD REDLINE I'm fine. 34. GREM Hey. Tow truck. Mater turns back to Grem and Acer. GREM We'd like to get to our private business here, if you don't mind. MATER Oh, yeah. Don't let me get in the way of your "private business." Oh! A little advice: When you hear her giggle and see that waterfall, you best press that green button. GREM Thank you. MATER It's to adjust the temperature. ACER Got it. MATER Remember it's in Celsius, not Fahrenheit. GREM AND ACER Get outta here! MATER Alright then. Mater exits, leaving Rod Redline to a now even angrier Grem and Acer. EXT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER Holley arrives at the door. She takes a breath, is about to enter when Mater EXITS. MATER Excuse me, ma'am. He passes her, expelling some exhaust in the process. Holley's rearview tracking confirms that the device is on him. MATER (TO HIMSELF) Dadgum pistachio ice cream. 35. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) This cannot be him. FINN (OVER RADIO) Is he American? MATER (driving off, to himself) Look out, ladies. Mater's fittin' to get funky! HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Extremely. FINN (OVER RADIO) Then it's him. It's settled. Holley takes one more nervous breath, quickly closes the distance between her and Mater, cuts him off. He is forced to STOP. HOLLEY Hello. MATER Well, hello. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. MATER Well of course it doesn't. That's `cause it's air-cooled! HOLLEY (RELIEVED) Perfect. I'm from the Tokyo Station OF THE--- MATER Course, Karmann Ghia's weren't the only ones. Besides the Beetles you had your Type-3 Squarebacks, with the pancake motors... HOLLEY Yeah. Okay, I get it--- MATER ... And before both of them, there's the Type-2 buses - my buddy Fillmore's one of them. 36. HOLLEY Listen! We should find somewhere more private. MATER Uh, gee. Don't you think that's a little, uh --- HOLLEY (NERVOUS ENERGY) You're right. Impossible to know which areas here are compromised. So, when can I see you again? MATER Well, let's see. Tomorrow I'll be out there at the races. HOLLEY Got it. We'll rendezvous then. INT. PARTY - MOMENTS LATER Mater returns to his team, lost in thought. MCQUEEN There you are. Where have you been? MATER What's a rendezvous? LUIGI It's like a date. MATER A date?! MCQUEEN Mater, what's going on? MATER Well, what's going on is I've got me a date tomorrow. Guido makes a crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido don't believe you. MATER Well, believe it. My new girlfriend just said so. Hey, there she is. Mater points out Holley, who's within earshot. 37. MATER (YELLING) Hey! Hey lady! Holley, caught in plain view, DRIVES OFF. MATER See ya tomorrow! Guido makes another crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido still don't believe you. EXT. SHIPYARD - THE DOCKS - TOKYO NIGHT An industrial dock, outside of the city proper. INT. SHIPYARD - NIGHT Rod Redline dangles from a car magnet. He's been beaten up, clings to consciousness. GREM (O.S.) I gotta admit --- Grem, Acer, and a bunch of nasty looking troublemakers look up at Rod amidst crates and shipping containers. GREM --- you tricked us real good. ACER And we don't like being tricked. Rod Redline laughs to himself. ACER Hey, what's so funny? ROD REDLINE Well, you know, I was just wearing a disguise. You guys are stuck looking like that. This doesn't help him. They DROP HIM onto a TREADMILL, lock him down. A container is wheeled forward and Rod is plied with Allinol brand gasoline. ROD REDLINE Allinol? Thanks, fellas. I hear this stuff is good for you. 38. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (O.S.) So you think. The Professor emerges from the darkness, behind Rod. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Allinol by itself is good for you. Zundapp hits a button and the TREADMILL starts Rod's wheels spinning at a high rate of speed. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP But after microscopic examination, I have found that it has one small weakness. When hit with an electromagnetic pulse, it becomes extremely dangerous. GREM SMILE --- Grem pushes a World Grand Prix CAMERA - the same one that was in the box back at the oil derrick. He points it at Rod Redline. GREM --- for the camera. ROD REDLINE Is that all you want? I got a whole act. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You were very interested in this camera on the oil platform. Now you will witness what it really does. ROD REDLINE Whatever you say, Professor. Acer pushes a TV MONITOR toward Rod. On it, surveillance footage from the party. Clearly, they were watching and recording him there. ACER You talked up a lot of cars last night. Which one's your associate? ROD REDLINE Your mother. Oh no, I'm sorry. It was your sister. You know, I can't tell them apart these days. 39. GREM (HAD ENOUGH) Could I start it now, Professor? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Fifty percent power. (to Rod Redline) This camera is actually an electromagnetic pulse emitter. ACER (re: a girl on the TV) What about her? Did you give it to her? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The Allinol is now heating to a boil, dramatically expanding, causing the engine block to crack under the stress, forcing oil into the combustion chamber. Rod Redline's engine starts to CRACK and BREAK. ACER (re: a guy on the TV) How about him? You talk to him? ROD REDLINE (to Professor Zundapp) What do I care? I can replace an engine block. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You may be able to, but after full impact of the pulse, unfortunately, there will be nothing to replace. ACER How about him? Does he have it? The monitor reveals MATER, rolling out of the bathroom and down the hall. Rod Redline, seeing this, does the world's most subtle double take. We caught it, but there's no way anyone else in the room could have --- PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP That's him. He's the one. GREM Roger that, Professor Z. 40. ROD REDLINE No! As Grem turns up the machine even MORE, the Professor makes a call. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (INTO PHONE) Yes sir. We believe the infiltrator has passed along sensitive information. (beat, listening) I will take care of it before any damage can be done. The Professor hangs up, turns to the room. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The project is still on schedule. You will find this second agent --- Zundapp kicks the camera's power into the RED. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP --- and kill him. On the MONITOR - With Mater's frozen image on the screen we see Rod EXPLODE in the reflection. EXT. JAPAN - DAY Over television pre-roll of Japan: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Japan. Land of the rising sun. Where ancient tradition meets modern technology. Welcome to the inaugural running of the World Grand Prix. ON OUR ANNOUNCERS as they introduce themselves: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER I'm Brent Mustangburger, here with racing legends Darrell Cartrip and David Hobbscap. There's never been a competition like this before. SHOTS OF THE PITS as the racers fuel up. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) First, Allinol, making its debut tonight as the required fuel for all these great champions. (MORE) 41. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) (CONT'D) Second, the course itself, and it's like nothing we've ever seen. David, how exactly does this competition work? DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Well, Brent, all three of these street courses are classic round- the-house racetracks. OUTLINES OF THREE RACE COURSES are shown. They're labeled Japan, Italy and England, and are different in shape and size. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) This means that the LMP and Formula cars should break out of the gate in spectacular fashion. SHOTS OF THE RACERS as they weave up the track, practicing. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Look for Francesco Bernoulli in particular to lead early. SHOTS OF Francesco, featured in an inset. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) And with a series of technical turns throughout --- MORE SHOTS of the course, now highlighting the tech turns. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) GT and Touring cars like Spain's Miguel Camino should make up some ground but I doubt it'll be enough to stop Francesco from absolutely running away with it. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Woah, now just hold your horsepower. You're forgetting the most important factor here. That early dirt track section of the course! The dirt is supposed to be the great equalizer in this race. GRAPHICS OF THE COURSES now isolate a stretch after the first couple turns, label it "DIRT SECTIONS." 42. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) French Rally car Raoul aRoule is counting on a big boost headed through there. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) And don't forget Lightning McQueen! His mentor, the Hudson Hornet, was one of the greatest dirt track racers of all time. In my opinion, McQueen is the best all-around racer in this competition. BACK IN THE STUDIO DAVID HOBBSCAP Really, Darrell, I think you need to clean your windshield. You're clearly not seeing this for what it is: Francesco's race to lose. EXT. STARTING LINE - DAY BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) It's time to find out. The racers are locking into the grid --- Engines rev as everyone gets ready to go. Everyone's bright eyed and alert except for McQueen who we find in the back of the grid. He CLOSES his eyes. MCQUEEN (TO HIMSELF) Speed. I am speed. A LAUGH O.S. McQueen opens his eyes. Francesco is next to him on the grid. FRANCESCO Really? You are "speed"? Then Francesco is triple speed. (closes his eyes) Francesco. Is. Triple speed. Francesco likes this, McQueen. It's really getting him into the zone! MCQUEEN He is so getting beat today. The starting lights click down from RED to YELLOW to GREEN. The race begins. Francesco quickly grabs the lead. He's pulling away within seconds. 43. ON PIT ROW - We TRACK PAST as the various Crew Chiefs on their crash carts bark orders to their racers. We end on Team McQueen. No Crew Chief, just a solid looking team. SARGE His suspension stats look good. LUIGI Tire pressure is excellent. FILLMORE He's got plenty of fuel. MATER And he's awesome! CUT TO: The same view of Mater but now THROUGH A TELESCOPIC DISPLAY. Reveal Finn and Holley watching from high above in a downtown office building, behind reflective glass. HOLLEY Why is he in the pits? He's so exposed. FINN It's his cover. One of the best I've seen, too. Look at the detail on that rust. It must have cost him a fortune. HOLLEY But why hasn't he contacted us yet? FINN There's probably heat on him. Be patient. HOLLEY Right, of course. He'll signal us when he can. FINN And then we find out who's behind all this. ON THE TRACK - VARIOUS SHOTS OF THE RACE through Tokyo as Francesco extends his lead and McQueen attempts to make up ground. 44. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - Mater watches the monitors, sees them approaching the dirt section. MATER McQueen! It's time to make your move. Get on the outside and show 'em what Doc done taught you. MCQUEEN (OVER RADIO) Ten four, Mater. ON THE TRACK - Francesco hits the dirt section and loses all control. He SLAMS to a halt, his tires getting no traction. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Francesco is brought to a screeching halt! MCQUEEN skids into view, turning right to go left, passing Francesco, followed by other cars --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Lightning McQueen is the first to take advantage. And just like that, folks, Francesco's lead is left in the dust. MCQUEEN Nice call, Mater. Keep it up! McQueen now leads the pack, zooming out of the dirt now starting to relax. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Who-hoo! Man, McQueen looks happier than a rollbar at a demolition derby! ON PAVED ROAD AGAIN - MOMENTS LATER The field of cars thunders into a tunnel. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Everyone's jostling for position as we hit the asphalt again. Francesco crests the hill, in last place. He bites down, determined, then CHASES. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco lost a lot of momentum in the dirt. He's got some serious work ahead of him if he wants to get back in this race. 45. VARIOUS SHOTS OF TOKYO as the racers move through the Rainbow Bridge. Bit by bit, Francesco ekes his way toward the front, toward Lightning McQueen as we CUT TO --- --- A ROOFTOP, and a VIEW THROUGH THE WGP CAMERA LENS. Grem and Acer are manning this one. They focus it on the racers as they approach. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (OVER RADIO) It is time. GREM Roger that. ON THE TRACK - A racer (Miguel Camino) suddenly PLUMES WITH SMOKE and skids out. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Oh! Miguel Camino has blown an engine! BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Very unusual, Darrell. He's been so consistent all year. Camino quickly pits, passing McQueen's pit where Mater is visible. ON GREM AND ACER, watching from above. GREM You gotta be kidding me. ACER What is it? GREM It's that tow truck from the bathroom. ACER The one from the bathroom? GREM Yeah, the one the American Agent passed the device to. ACER What about him? GREM What about him? He's in the pits! 46. ACER Not for long. Acer exits, with purpose. ON FINN AND HOLLEY, still in their office hideaway. Holley's onboard computer flashes an ALERT. HOLLEY Hold on. I think I've got something. FINN What is it? HOLLEY The Pacer from the party last night. She's spotted Acer, moving swiftly forward. HOLLEY Cross-referencing with the photos from the oil derricks... Yep. His VIN numbers match. FINN Anyone with him? He won't be alone. HOLLEY Conducting analysis on the target. The computer finds more and more bad guy Pacers and Gremlins are in the crowd. HOLLEY He's not the only one here. Three... five... they're everywhere. And they're all closing in on... oh no. We PAN OVER to see it's MATER. HOLLEY Finn? Finn, where are you? She turns. He's GONE, leaving only an open window. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of the pits now! IN MCQUEEN'S PIT. A car WHIPS BY O.S. 47. MATER Wow! Some of them fellers is really loud. HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Can you hear me? Over. MATER Uh, what? HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Get out of the pit now. Do you hear me? Mater realizes this girl has somehow broken into his radio. MATER (INTO RADIO) Hey, I know you. You're that girl from the party last night. You wanna do our date right now? ON THE TRACK - McQueen boxes out Francesco, holds his slim lead, but barely. MCQUEEN Guys, a little too much chatter. Let's keep this line clear. BOOM! A racer behind McQueen suddenly expels black smoke, skids out of control. ON GREM - laughing. That was clearly his handiwork. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - SAME HOLLEY (ON MATER'S RADIO) There's no time for messing about. You've got to get out of the pits. MATER Is there gonna be cable where you is so I can watch the rest of the race? ON HOLLEY - Watching from the downtown building. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) You're running out of time! FINN (OVER RADIO) They're coming, Shiftwell. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Yes, I know. 48. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of there. HOLLEY (TO FINN) I'm trying. (TO MATER) Get out now! We CUT BACK TO --- --- MATER. He gives in, exits the pit. MATER Well, all right but I usually like to have a proper detailing done before I meet a lady friend. He moves toward the back PIT DOOR, is about to open it. OUTSIDE THE PITS - ACER and another Pacer approach McQueen's pit door on the other side. Ready to pounce. The doors OPEN, REVEALING --- --- Finn, holding a fire extinguisher. ACER Finn McMissile? But you're dead! FINN Then this shouldn't hurt at all. He empties the extinguisher in their eyes, speeds past. They try and follow, but have been blinded. One of them crashes right into a COP. ON FINN - Already on the move, along a side street. FINN Miss Shiftwell? ON HOLLEY - Tracking everything on a grid map. Mater looks like Pac Man, weaving through the streets as bad guys close in all around him. HOLLEY I've got him in the back alleys east of the garages. Multiple assailants are closing in quickly. FINN (OVER RADIO) Keep him moving. I'm on my way. ON MATER - He turns a corner, sees a flower shop. 49. MATER Hey, new lady friend? You like flowers? ON THE TRACK - McQueen, hearing this, is taken aback. MCQUEEN What? ON MATER - Slowing at the flower shop. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go 'in' anywhere. Just keep moving. MATER Stay outside. Gotcha. ON THE TRACK MCQUEEN Outside? McQueen drifts outside allowing Francesco to slip past! FRANCESCO Grazie and arrivaderci! DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) I cannot believe what I just saw, Brent. That was a bonehead move. You don't open up the inside like that! IN THE BACK ALLEYS - As Mater moves on he's followed by Pacers and Gremlins. Suddenly --- --- CABLES whip in front of them, pulling over flower vending machines and sending the shop's owners into a frenzy. They direct their attention to the AMCs, who try and explain. ON FINN, admiring his handiwork as he appears. Just as he turns to leave he's BROADSIDED and pushed INTO A DARK ALLEY. IN THE ALLEY - Finn finds himself boxed by two Pacers and pushed toward --- --- ACER, who now holds a FLAME THROWER. ACER This time I'm gonna make sure you stay dead. He hits the flame. WHOOOSSSH!! 50. ON ANOTHER STREET - Mater clicks along, still looking for Holley. Just as he passes the alley entrance where Finn stares down death: HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) You're doing brilliantly. Now just stay focused. MATER What's that? You want me to head toward that ruckus? Mater turns INTO the alley. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go down that street! IN THE ALLEY - Finn, now nearly pushed completely into the flame thrower, leaps into the air. He FIGHTS BACK, using his wheels, axle, indeed his entire car frame as if he were human, kicking and tossing and shooting his enemies. Mater witnesses the whole thing. MATER Wow! A live karate demonstration! ON THE TRACK - McQueen, now playing catch-up again, scowls. MCQUEEN Stop it, Mater. Just sign off. IN THE BACK ALLEY - Finn polishes off the AMCs by firing a bullet into a gas main line, causing an EXPLOSION that tosses Acer through the air where he lands in a NOODLE SHOP'S SIGN. ON THE TRACK - The end of the race is nigh --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) They're bumper to bumper as they approach the finish line! The Formula car gets there first. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco's the winner, McQueen's number two! IN THE ALLEY - Finn heaves breaths, surveys his damage. MATER That was cool! Hey, can I get your autograph? 51. Mater approaches when a MASS OF RACE FANS burst out a door, momentarily blocking Mater's view of Finn. Once the fans have past, Finn has disappeared. MATER Hey, where'd he go? HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) Our rendezvous has been jeopardized. Keep the device safe. We'll be in touch. MATER Dadgum, did I miss our date? EXT. PRESS STAGE - LATER Post race press conference. Francesco is center stage. DARRELL CARTRIP Francesco, over here! Hey, what was your strategy today? FRANCESCO Strategia? Francesco needs no strategy, it's very simple. You start the race, wait for Lightning McQueen to choke, pass him, then win. Francesco always wins. It's boring. McQueen, waiting in the wings, rolls his eyes. He suddenly notices something O.S. McQueen's P.O.V. - It's MATER, appearing from a side street, moving toward the pits, oblivious of the press conference. DARRELL CARTRIP (TO FRANCESCO) I gotta tell you, dude. You were in trouble for awhile. That dirt track section had you crawling! As McQueen SNEAKS AWAY --- FRANCESCO To truly crush one's dream, you must first raise their hopes very high. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT GARAGE - Mater looks around for everyone as McQueen approaches. 52. MCQUEEN Mater. MATER Hey McQueen! What happened? Is the race over? You won, right? MCQUEEN Mater, why were you yelling things at me while I was racing? MATER Yelling? Oh, you thought... that's funny right there. Nah, see that's `cause I seen these two fellers doing some sort of karate street performance. It was nutso. One of them even had a flamethrower --- MCQUEEN A flamethrower? What are you talking about? I don't understand. Where were you? MATER Going to meet my date. MCQUEEN Your date? MATER She started talking to me as a voice in my head, telling me where to go --- MCQUEEN What? MATER Wait a minute -- I didn't screw you up, did I? MCQUEEN I lost the race because of you! MATER Well, I'm sorry. I didn't mean --- MCQUEEN An imaginary girlfriend, flamethrowers. This is exactly why I don't bring you along to these things. 53. MATER Maybe if I, I don't know, talked to somebody and explained what happened I could help. MCQUEEN I don't need your help. I don't want your help. PRESS (O.S.) Hey, there he is!! The press finds McQueen, swarms him. Mater is pushed backwards as the questions fly again. PRESS - McQueen, you had it in the bag! - Yeah, what happened? MCQUEEN I made a mistake. But I can assure you, it won't happen again. On Mater. He takes this badly. MCQUEEN Look, guys. We know what the problem is and we've taken care of it. SMASH TO: OVER FOOTAGE OF FRANCESCO and various other highlights: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER Lightning McQueen loses in the last lap to Francesco Bernoulli in the first race of the World Grand Prix and three, count em, three cars

knocking

How many times the word 'knocking' appears in the text?

Finn. Meet HOLLEY SHIFTWELL. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. FINN That's because it's air-cooled. HOLLEY I'm Agent Shiftwell, Holley Shiftwell from the Tokyo Station. I have a message from London. FINN Not here. (LOUDLY) You must try the canapes on the mezzanine! He moves her onto an elevator. The doors close on them. IN THE ELEVATOR, GOING UP. FINN So the lab boys analyzed the photo I sent? What did they learn about the camera? HOLLEY It appears to be a standard television camera. They said if you could get closer photos next time, that would be great. FINN This was London's message? 27. HOLLEY Oh -- no, no. No sir. Um, the oil platforms you were on? Turns out they're sitting on the biggest oil reserve in the world. FINN How did we miss that? HOLLEY They'd been scrambling everyone's satellites. The Americans actually discovered it just before you did. They placed an agent on that platform, under deep cover. He was able to get a photo of the car who's running the entire operation. The doors OPEN and they exit onto the Mezzanine. FINN Who is it? Has anyone seen the photo yet? HOLLEY No, not yet. The American is here tonight to pass it to you. He'll signal you when he's ready. FINN GOOD --- Finn suddenly STOPS COLD. FINN Oh no. Professor Zundapp is visible below them. He talks with a few Pacers and Gremlins. Finn quickly retreats into the shadows. Holley follows suit. HOLLEY What is it? FINN Change of plan. You're meeting the American. HOLLEY What, me? 28. FINN Those thugs down there were on the oil platform. If they see me, the whole mission is compromised. HOLLEY No, no. I'm technical, you see. I'm in Diagnostics. I'm not a field agent. FINN You are now. CUT TO: MATER as he grabs a drink, keeps moving. MATER I'll take one of them. He snatches it, drops it in the back where we now see a large assortment of drinks balanced. MATER Never know which one McQueen'll have a hankering for. He approaches a sushi bar. MATER Hey, what you got here that's free? How about that pistachio ice cream? He refers to wasabi, of course. SUSHI CHEF No, no. Wasabi. MATER Oh, same ol', same ol'. What's up with you? That looks delicious. The chef starts to carve a small scoop aside for Mater. MATER Uh, a little more, please. It is free, right? (the chef adds more) Keep it coming. A little more. Come on, let's go, it's free! You're getting there... Scoop scoop! The chef gives in. Scoops a baseball-sized ball out. 29. MATER There you go. Now THAT's a scoop of ice cream. SUSHI CHEF (in Japanese, subtitles) My condolences. CUT BACK TO: MILES AXLEROD - He's now nearly done with his intros. MILES AXLEROD ... and now, our last competitor --- Number 95, Lightning McQueen! MCQUEEN approaches the microphone, flashes his headlights. MCQUEEN Thank you so much for having us, Sir Axlerod. I really look forward to racing. This is a great opportunity. MILES AXLEROD Oh, the pleasure is all ours, Lightning. You and your team bring excellence and professionalism to this competition. As if on cue, Mater arrives with a piercing scream of pain. Everyone turns as he charges head first toward the stage, making a bee-line for that FOUNTAIN. MATER Somebody get me water! He laps up water from the fountain like a diabetic cat. MATER (LAPPING WATER) Sweet relief... Miles Axlerod is shocked. The crowd can't believe it. Francesco cackles. Mater, now sated, approaches the mic. MATER (to the crowd) Whatever you do, do not eat the free pistachio ice cream. It has turned! MCQUEEN Sir Axlerod, I can explain. This is Mater. 30. MILES AXLEROD I know him. This is the bloke that called into the television show. (TO MATER) You're the one I have to thank. MATER No, thank you. This trip's been amazing. MILES AXLEROD (TO MCQUEEN) He's a little excited, isn't he? TILT DOWN to reveal a pool of oil beneath Mater. MCQUEEN Mater! MATER But wait, I... oh, shoot. McQueen quickly pulls Mater aside, out of earshot of Miles Axlerod and the others. McQueen is beside himself. MCQUEEN Mater, you have to get a hold of yourself. You're making a scene. MATER But I never leak oil. Never. MCQUEEN Go take care of yourself right now. Mater drives off. ON MATER - MOMENTS LATER He drives through the party, frantic. MATER Coming through! Excuse me, leakin' oil. Where's the bathroom? Thank you. I gotta go! Someone points Mater down a hallway. He whips around the CORNER --- --- and STOPS. Finds himself in front of TWO BATHROOM DOORS, neither of which clearly indicate MALE or FEMALE. 31. MATER (CONFUSED) What the... Mater chooses one, drives inside. A SHRIEK is heard and Mater zips out. MATER Sorry ladies! He heads into the other door --- CUT TO: INT. MEN'S ROOM - NIGHT Mater rolls in, still `holding it in' like a kid. MATER I never leak I never leak I never leak... He sees someone leaving a stall. He heads in. IN THE STALL - Mater enters, looks up. MATER Wowee... The stall is a complicated apparatus with buttons and lights. High-tech Japanese. It suddenly GRABS MATER, hoists him up as if he's going to get an oil change. MATER What in the--- A Japanese style cartoon CARICATURE appears on a TV MONITOR, followed by images of waterfalls and rivers. MATER (GIGGLING) Hey, that tickles. The caricature starts talking in Japanese. Suddenly WATER FIRES UP underneath Mater's undercarriage, goosing him. He freaks out. OUTSIDE THE STALL - With Mater's yells audible we see a GREMLIN enter, furtive. Suddenly, inexplicably, his frame BREAKS APART like an egg, revealing an AMERICAN MUSCLE CAR underneath. The pieces of the Gremlin disappear under him, clearly his disguise. This is ROD REDLINE - American Agent. 32. ROD REDLINE Okay, McMissile. I'm here. It's time for the drop. INT. PARTY - SAME HOLLEY, rolls along by herself. Nervous. DING! Her rearview monitor springs to life. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) The American has activated his tracking beacon. FINN (OVER RADIO) Roger that. Move in. INT. BATHROOM - SAME Rod Redline, waiting at a sink, feels a presence behind him. GREM and ACER have entered, hesitate briefly when they see Rod Redline. Rod Redline, careful, slides a gun out of his tire. He is suddenly CHARGED by the AMCs --- Rod SPINS AROUND and gets a shot off but is SLAMMED HEAD FIRST. A TIGHT, CLOSE-QUARTERS FIGHT begins --- IN THE STALL - Mater, still TRAPPED, is now being SCRUBBED as if in a car wash. He is helpless. OUTSIDE THE STALL - Rod is being pulverized. Just when he scrambles away from one car, the other one takes over. IN THE STALL - Mater is mercifully released, but when he backs out --- --- Rod Redline is THROWN INTO MATER'S STALL DOOR, crunching it and sending Mater --- --- BACK INTO THE CLUTCHES of the insane toilet. INT. PARTY - SAME Holley isolates the tracking beacon's location in the party. HOLLEY Oh, you've got to be joking. FINN What's the problem, Shiftwell? HOLLEY He's in the loo. 33. FINN So go in! HOLLEY I can't just go into the men's loo. FINN Time is of the essence, Shiftwell. INT. BATHROOM - OUTSIDE THE STALL Rod Redline is in bad shape. He backs away, betrays a look of concern. He's in trouble here. ACER burns rubber, ready to finish him off. Just as he shifts into DRIVE --- --- MATER'S STALL DOOR KICKS OPEN, knocking ACER out. Mater jumps out, face-to-face GREM. MATER (out of breath) Whatever you do, I would not go in there. The door SWINGS shut, revealing the pulverized Acer. MATER A Gremlin and a Pacer! Rod Redline, now behind Mater and sensing an opportunity here, quickly produces A SMALL DEVICE. MATER (to Grem and Acer) No offense to your makes and models, but you guys break down harder than my cousin Betsy after she got left at the --- Rod Redline, surreptitiously attaches the device to Mater's undercarriage. MATER (as he's goosed) --- altar! He spins around, sees Rod Redline for the first time. MATER Are you okay? ROD REDLINE I'm fine. 34. GREM Hey. Tow truck. Mater turns back to Grem and Acer. GREM We'd like to get to our private business here, if you don't mind. MATER Oh, yeah. Don't let me get in the way of your "private business." Oh! A little advice: When you hear her giggle and see that waterfall, you best press that green button. GREM Thank you. MATER It's to adjust the temperature. ACER Got it. MATER Remember it's in Celsius, not Fahrenheit. GREM AND ACER Get outta here! MATER Alright then. Mater exits, leaving Rod Redline to a now even angrier Grem and Acer. EXT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER Holley arrives at the door. She takes a breath, is about to enter when Mater EXITS. MATER Excuse me, ma'am. He passes her, expelling some exhaust in the process. Holley's rearview tracking confirms that the device is on him. MATER (TO HIMSELF) Dadgum pistachio ice cream. 35. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) This cannot be him. FINN (OVER RADIO) Is he American? MATER (driving off, to himself) Look out, ladies. Mater's fittin' to get funky! HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Extremely. FINN (OVER RADIO) Then it's him. It's settled. Holley takes one more nervous breath, quickly closes the distance between her and Mater, cuts him off. He is forced to STOP. HOLLEY Hello. MATER Well, hello. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. MATER Well of course it doesn't. That's `cause it's air-cooled! HOLLEY (RELIEVED) Perfect. I'm from the Tokyo Station OF THE--- MATER Course, Karmann Ghia's weren't the only ones. Besides the Beetles you had your Type-3 Squarebacks, with the pancake motors... HOLLEY Yeah. Okay, I get it--- MATER ... And before both of them, there's the Type-2 buses - my buddy Fillmore's one of them. 36. HOLLEY Listen! We should find somewhere more private. MATER Uh, gee. Don't you think that's a little, uh --- HOLLEY (NERVOUS ENERGY) You're right. Impossible to know which areas here are compromised. So, when can I see you again? MATER Well, let's see. Tomorrow I'll be out there at the races. HOLLEY Got it. We'll rendezvous then. INT. PARTY - MOMENTS LATER Mater returns to his team, lost in thought. MCQUEEN There you are. Where have you been? MATER What's a rendezvous? LUIGI It's like a date. MATER A date?! MCQUEEN Mater, what's going on? MATER Well, what's going on is I've got me a date tomorrow. Guido makes a crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido don't believe you. MATER Well, believe it. My new girlfriend just said so. Hey, there she is. Mater points out Holley, who's within earshot. 37. MATER (YELLING) Hey! Hey lady! Holley, caught in plain view, DRIVES OFF. MATER See ya tomorrow! Guido makes another crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido still don't believe you. EXT. SHIPYARD - THE DOCKS - TOKYO NIGHT An industrial dock, outside of the city proper. INT. SHIPYARD - NIGHT Rod Redline dangles from a car magnet. He's been beaten up, clings to consciousness. GREM (O.S.) I gotta admit --- Grem, Acer, and a bunch of nasty looking troublemakers look up at Rod amidst crates and shipping containers. GREM --- you tricked us real good. ACER And we don't like being tricked. Rod Redline laughs to himself. ACER Hey, what's so funny? ROD REDLINE Well, you know, I was just wearing a disguise. You guys are stuck looking like that. This doesn't help him. They DROP HIM onto a TREADMILL, lock him down. A container is wheeled forward and Rod is plied with Allinol brand gasoline. ROD REDLINE Allinol? Thanks, fellas. I hear this stuff is good for you. 38. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (O.S.) So you think. The Professor emerges from the darkness, behind Rod. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Allinol by itself is good for you. Zundapp hits a button and the TREADMILL starts Rod's wheels spinning at a high rate of speed. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP But after microscopic examination, I have found that it has one small weakness. When hit with an electromagnetic pulse, it becomes extremely dangerous. GREM SMILE --- Grem pushes a World Grand Prix CAMERA - the same one that was in the box back at the oil derrick. He points it at Rod Redline. GREM --- for the camera. ROD REDLINE Is that all you want? I got a whole act. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You were very interested in this camera on the oil platform. Now you will witness what it really does. ROD REDLINE Whatever you say, Professor. Acer pushes a TV MONITOR toward Rod. On it, surveillance footage from the party. Clearly, they were watching and recording him there. ACER You talked up a lot of cars last night. Which one's your associate? ROD REDLINE Your mother. Oh no, I'm sorry. It was your sister. You know, I can't tell them apart these days. 39. GREM (HAD ENOUGH) Could I start it now, Professor? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Fifty percent power. (to Rod Redline) This camera is actually an electromagnetic pulse emitter. ACER (re: a girl on the TV) What about her? Did you give it to her? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The Allinol is now heating to a boil, dramatically expanding, causing the engine block to crack under the stress, forcing oil into the combustion chamber. Rod Redline's engine starts to CRACK and BREAK. ACER (re: a guy on the TV) How about him? You talk to him? ROD REDLINE (to Professor Zundapp) What do I care? I can replace an engine block. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You may be able to, but after full impact of the pulse, unfortunately, there will be nothing to replace. ACER How about him? Does he have it? The monitor reveals MATER, rolling out of the bathroom and down the hall. Rod Redline, seeing this, does the world's most subtle double take. We caught it, but there's no way anyone else in the room could have --- PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP That's him. He's the one. GREM Roger that, Professor Z. 40. ROD REDLINE No! As Grem turns up the machine even MORE, the Professor makes a call. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (INTO PHONE) Yes sir. We believe the infiltrator has passed along sensitive information. (beat, listening) I will take care of it before any damage can be done. The Professor hangs up, turns to the room. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The project is still on schedule. You will find this second agent --- Zundapp kicks the camera's power into the RED. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP --- and kill him. On the MONITOR - With Mater's frozen image on the screen we see Rod EXPLODE in the reflection. EXT. JAPAN - DAY Over television pre-roll of Japan: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Japan. Land of the rising sun. Where ancient tradition meets modern technology. Welcome to the inaugural running of the World Grand Prix. ON OUR ANNOUNCERS as they introduce themselves: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER I'm Brent Mustangburger, here with racing legends Darrell Cartrip and David Hobbscap. There's never been a competition like this before. SHOTS OF THE PITS as the racers fuel up. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) First, Allinol, making its debut tonight as the required fuel for all these great champions. (MORE) 41. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) (CONT'D) Second, the course itself, and it's like nothing we've ever seen. David, how exactly does this competition work? DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Well, Brent, all three of these street courses are classic round- the-house racetracks. OUTLINES OF THREE RACE COURSES are shown. They're labeled Japan, Italy and England, and are different in shape and size. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) This means that the LMP and Formula cars should break out of the gate in spectacular fashion. SHOTS OF THE RACERS as they weave up the track, practicing. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Look for Francesco Bernoulli in particular to lead early. SHOTS OF Francesco, featured in an inset. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) And with a series of technical turns throughout --- MORE SHOTS of the course, now highlighting the tech turns. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) GT and Touring cars like Spain's Miguel Camino should make up some ground but I doubt it'll be enough to stop Francesco from absolutely running away with it. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Woah, now just hold your horsepower. You're forgetting the most important factor here. That early dirt track section of the course! The dirt is supposed to be the great equalizer in this race. GRAPHICS OF THE COURSES now isolate a stretch after the first couple turns, label it "DIRT SECTIONS." 42. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) French Rally car Raoul aRoule is counting on a big boost headed through there. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) And don't forget Lightning McQueen! His mentor, the Hudson Hornet, was one of the greatest dirt track racers of all time. In my opinion, McQueen is the best all-around racer in this competition. BACK IN THE STUDIO DAVID HOBBSCAP Really, Darrell, I think you need to clean your windshield. You're clearly not seeing this for what it is: Francesco's race to lose. EXT. STARTING LINE - DAY BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) It's time to find out. The racers are locking into the grid --- Engines rev as everyone gets ready to go. Everyone's bright eyed and alert except for McQueen who we find in the back of the grid. He CLOSES his eyes. MCQUEEN (TO HIMSELF) Speed. I am speed. A LAUGH O.S. McQueen opens his eyes. Francesco is next to him on the grid. FRANCESCO Really? You are "speed"? Then Francesco is triple speed. (closes his eyes) Francesco. Is. Triple speed. Francesco likes this, McQueen. It's really getting him into the zone! MCQUEEN He is so getting beat today. The starting lights click down from RED to YELLOW to GREEN. The race begins. Francesco quickly grabs the lead. He's pulling away within seconds. 43. ON PIT ROW - We TRACK PAST as the various Crew Chiefs on their crash carts bark orders to their racers. We end on Team McQueen. No Crew Chief, just a solid looking team. SARGE His suspension stats look good. LUIGI Tire pressure is excellent. FILLMORE He's got plenty of fuel. MATER And he's awesome! CUT TO: The same view of Mater but now THROUGH A TELESCOPIC DISPLAY. Reveal Finn and Holley watching from high above in a downtown office building, behind reflective glass. HOLLEY Why is he in the pits? He's so exposed. FINN It's his cover. One of the best I've seen, too. Look at the detail on that rust. It must have cost him a fortune. HOLLEY But why hasn't he contacted us yet? FINN There's probably heat on him. Be patient. HOLLEY Right, of course. He'll signal us when he can. FINN And then we find out who's behind all this. ON THE TRACK - VARIOUS SHOTS OF THE RACE through Tokyo as Francesco extends his lead and McQueen attempts to make up ground. 44. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - Mater watches the monitors, sees them approaching the dirt section. MATER McQueen! It's time to make your move. Get on the outside and show 'em what Doc done taught you. MCQUEEN (OVER RADIO) Ten four, Mater. ON THE TRACK - Francesco hits the dirt section and loses all control. He SLAMS to a halt, his tires getting no traction. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Francesco is brought to a screeching halt! MCQUEEN skids into view, turning right to go left, passing Francesco, followed by other cars --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Lightning McQueen is the first to take advantage. And just like that, folks, Francesco's lead is left in the dust. MCQUEEN Nice call, Mater. Keep it up! McQueen now leads the pack, zooming out of the dirt now starting to relax. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Who-hoo! Man, McQueen looks happier than a rollbar at a demolition derby! ON PAVED ROAD AGAIN - MOMENTS LATER The field of cars thunders into a tunnel. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Everyone's jostling for position as we hit the asphalt again. Francesco crests the hill, in last place. He bites down, determined, then CHASES. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco lost a lot of momentum in the dirt. He's got some serious work ahead of him if he wants to get back in this race. 45. VARIOUS SHOTS OF TOKYO as the racers move through the Rainbow Bridge. Bit by bit, Francesco ekes his way toward the front, toward Lightning McQueen as we CUT TO --- --- A ROOFTOP, and a VIEW THROUGH THE WGP CAMERA LENS. Grem and Acer are manning this one. They focus it on the racers as they approach. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (OVER RADIO) It is time. GREM Roger that. ON THE TRACK - A racer (Miguel Camino) suddenly PLUMES WITH SMOKE and skids out. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Oh! Miguel Camino has blown an engine! BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Very unusual, Darrell. He's been so consistent all year. Camino quickly pits, passing McQueen's pit where Mater is visible. ON GREM AND ACER, watching from above. GREM You gotta be kidding me. ACER What is it? GREM It's that tow truck from the bathroom. ACER The one from the bathroom? GREM Yeah, the one the American Agent passed the device to. ACER What about him? GREM What about him? He's in the pits! 46. ACER Not for long. Acer exits, with purpose. ON FINN AND HOLLEY, still in their office hideaway. Holley's onboard computer flashes an ALERT. HOLLEY Hold on. I think I've got something. FINN What is it? HOLLEY The Pacer from the party last night. She's spotted Acer, moving swiftly forward. HOLLEY Cross-referencing with the photos from the oil derricks... Yep. His VIN numbers match. FINN Anyone with him? He won't be alone. HOLLEY Conducting analysis on the target. The computer finds more and more bad guy Pacers and Gremlins are in the crowd. HOLLEY He's not the only one here. Three... five... they're everywhere. And they're all closing in on... oh no. We PAN OVER to see it's MATER. HOLLEY Finn? Finn, where are you? She turns. He's GONE, leaving only an open window. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of the pits now! IN MCQUEEN'S PIT. A car WHIPS BY O.S. 47. MATER Wow! Some of them fellers is really loud. HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Can you hear me? Over. MATER Uh, what? HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Get out of the pit now. Do you hear me? Mater realizes this girl has somehow broken into his radio. MATER (INTO RADIO) Hey, I know you. You're that girl from the party last night. You wanna do our date right now? ON THE TRACK - McQueen boxes out Francesco, holds his slim lead, but barely. MCQUEEN Guys, a little too much chatter. Let's keep this line clear. BOOM! A racer behind McQueen suddenly expels black smoke, skids out of control. ON GREM - laughing. That was clearly his handiwork. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - SAME HOLLEY (ON MATER'S RADIO) There's no time for messing about. You've got to get out of the pits. MATER Is there gonna be cable where you is so I can watch the rest of the race? ON HOLLEY - Watching from the downtown building. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) You're running out of time! FINN (OVER RADIO) They're coming, Shiftwell. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Yes, I know. 48. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of there. HOLLEY (TO FINN) I'm trying. (TO MATER) Get out now! We CUT BACK TO --- --- MATER. He gives in, exits the pit. MATER Well, all right but I usually like to have a proper detailing done before I meet a lady friend. He moves toward the back PIT DOOR, is about to open it. OUTSIDE THE PITS - ACER and another Pacer approach McQueen's pit door on the other side. Ready to pounce. The doors OPEN, REVEALING --- --- Finn, holding a fire extinguisher. ACER Finn McMissile? But you're dead! FINN Then this shouldn't hurt at all. He empties the extinguisher in their eyes, speeds past. They try and follow, but have been blinded. One of them crashes right into a COP. ON FINN - Already on the move, along a side street. FINN Miss Shiftwell? ON HOLLEY - Tracking everything on a grid map. Mater looks like Pac Man, weaving through the streets as bad guys close in all around him. HOLLEY I've got him in the back alleys east of the garages. Multiple assailants are closing in quickly. FINN (OVER RADIO) Keep him moving. I'm on my way. ON MATER - He turns a corner, sees a flower shop. 49. MATER Hey, new lady friend? You like flowers? ON THE TRACK - McQueen, hearing this, is taken aback. MCQUEEN What? ON MATER - Slowing at the flower shop. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go 'in' anywhere. Just keep moving. MATER Stay outside. Gotcha. ON THE TRACK MCQUEEN Outside? McQueen drifts outside allowing Francesco to slip past! FRANCESCO Grazie and arrivaderci! DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) I cannot believe what I just saw, Brent. That was a bonehead move. You don't open up the inside like that! IN THE BACK ALLEYS - As Mater moves on he's followed by Pacers and Gremlins. Suddenly --- --- CABLES whip in front of them, pulling over flower vending machines and sending the shop's owners into a frenzy. They direct their attention to the AMCs, who try and explain. ON FINN, admiring his handiwork as he appears. Just as he turns to leave he's BROADSIDED and pushed INTO A DARK ALLEY. IN THE ALLEY - Finn finds himself boxed by two Pacers and pushed toward --- --- ACER, who now holds a FLAME THROWER. ACER This time I'm gonna make sure you stay dead. He hits the flame. WHOOOSSSH!! 50. ON ANOTHER STREET - Mater clicks along, still looking for Holley. Just as he passes the alley entrance where Finn stares down death: HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) You're doing brilliantly. Now just stay focused. MATER What's that? You want me to head toward that ruckus? Mater turns INTO the alley. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go down that street! IN THE ALLEY - Finn, now nearly pushed completely into the flame thrower, leaps into the air. He FIGHTS BACK, using his wheels, axle, indeed his entire car frame as if he were human, kicking and tossing and shooting his enemies. Mater witnesses the whole thing. MATER Wow! A live karate demonstration! ON THE TRACK - McQueen, now playing catch-up again, scowls. MCQUEEN Stop it, Mater. Just sign off. IN THE BACK ALLEY - Finn polishes off the AMCs by firing a bullet into a gas main line, causing an EXPLOSION that tosses Acer through the air where he lands in a NOODLE SHOP'S SIGN. ON THE TRACK - The end of the race is nigh --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) They're bumper to bumper as they approach the finish line! The Formula car gets there first. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco's the winner, McQueen's number two! IN THE ALLEY - Finn heaves breaths, surveys his damage. MATER That was cool! Hey, can I get your autograph? 51. Mater approaches when a MASS OF RACE FANS burst out a door, momentarily blocking Mater's view of Finn. Once the fans have past, Finn has disappeared. MATER Hey, where'd he go? HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) Our rendezvous has been jeopardized. Keep the device safe. We'll be in touch. MATER Dadgum, did I miss our date? EXT. PRESS STAGE - LATER Post race press conference. Francesco is center stage. DARRELL CARTRIP Francesco, over here! Hey, what was your strategy today? FRANCESCO Strategia? Francesco needs no strategy, it's very simple. You start the race, wait for Lightning McQueen to choke, pass him, then win. Francesco always wins. It's boring. McQueen, waiting in the wings, rolls his eyes. He suddenly notices something O.S. McQueen's P.O.V. - It's MATER, appearing from a side street, moving toward the pits, oblivious of the press conference. DARRELL CARTRIP (TO FRANCESCO) I gotta tell you, dude. You were in trouble for awhile. That dirt track section had you crawling! As McQueen SNEAKS AWAY --- FRANCESCO To truly crush one's dream, you must first raise their hopes very high. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT GARAGE - Mater looks around for everyone as McQueen approaches. 52. MCQUEEN Mater. MATER Hey McQueen! What happened? Is the race over? You won, right? MCQUEEN Mater, why were you yelling things at me while I was racing? MATER Yelling? Oh, you thought... that's funny right there. Nah, see that's `cause I seen these two fellers doing some sort of karate street performance. It was nutso. One of them even had a flamethrower --- MCQUEEN A flamethrower? What are you talking about? I don't understand. Where were you? MATER Going to meet my date. MCQUEEN Your date? MATER She started talking to me as a voice in my head, telling me where to go --- MCQUEEN What? MATER Wait a minute -- I didn't screw you up, did I? MCQUEEN I lost the race because of you! MATER Well, I'm sorry. I didn't mean --- MCQUEEN An imaginary girlfriend, flamethrowers. This is exactly why I don't bring you along to these things. 53. MATER Maybe if I, I don't know, talked to somebody and explained what happened I could help. MCQUEEN I don't need your help. I don't want your help. PRESS (O.S.) Hey, there he is!! The press finds McQueen, swarms him. Mater is pushed backwards as the questions fly again. PRESS - McQueen, you had it in the bag! - Yeah, what happened? MCQUEEN I made a mistake. But I can assure you, it won't happen again. On Mater. He takes this badly. MCQUEEN Look, guys. We know what the problem is and we've taken care of it. SMASH TO: OVER FOOTAGE OF FRANCESCO and various other highlights: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER Lightning McQueen loses in the last lap to Francesco Bernoulli in the first race of the World Grand Prix and three, count em, three cars

beaten

How many times the word 'beaten' appears in the text?

Finn. Meet HOLLEY SHIFTWELL. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. FINN That's because it's air-cooled. HOLLEY I'm Agent Shiftwell, Holley Shiftwell from the Tokyo Station. I have a message from London. FINN Not here. (LOUDLY) You must try the canapes on the mezzanine! He moves her onto an elevator. The doors close on them. IN THE ELEVATOR, GOING UP. FINN So the lab boys analyzed the photo I sent? What did they learn about the camera? HOLLEY It appears to be a standard television camera. They said if you could get closer photos next time, that would be great. FINN This was London's message? 27. HOLLEY Oh -- no, no. No sir. Um, the oil platforms you were on? Turns out they're sitting on the biggest oil reserve in the world. FINN How did we miss that? HOLLEY They'd been scrambling everyone's satellites. The Americans actually discovered it just before you did. They placed an agent on that platform, under deep cover. He was able to get a photo of the car who's running the entire operation. The doors OPEN and they exit onto the Mezzanine. FINN Who is it? Has anyone seen the photo yet? HOLLEY No, not yet. The American is here tonight to pass it to you. He'll signal you when he's ready. FINN GOOD --- Finn suddenly STOPS COLD. FINN Oh no. Professor Zundapp is visible below them. He talks with a few Pacers and Gremlins. Finn quickly retreats into the shadows. Holley follows suit. HOLLEY What is it? FINN Change of plan. You're meeting the American. HOLLEY What, me? 28. FINN Those thugs down there were on the oil platform. If they see me, the whole mission is compromised. HOLLEY No, no. I'm technical, you see. I'm in Diagnostics. I'm not a field agent. FINN You are now. CUT TO: MATER as he grabs a drink, keeps moving. MATER I'll take one of them. He snatches it, drops it in the back where we now see a large assortment of drinks balanced. MATER Never know which one McQueen'll have a hankering for. He approaches a sushi bar. MATER Hey, what you got here that's free? How about that pistachio ice cream? He refers to wasabi, of course. SUSHI CHEF No, no. Wasabi. MATER Oh, same ol', same ol'. What's up with you? That looks delicious. The chef starts to carve a small scoop aside for Mater. MATER Uh, a little more, please. It is free, right? (the chef adds more) Keep it coming. A little more. Come on, let's go, it's free! You're getting there... Scoop scoop! The chef gives in. Scoops a baseball-sized ball out. 29. MATER There you go. Now THAT's a scoop of ice cream. SUSHI CHEF (in Japanese, subtitles) My condolences. CUT BACK TO: MILES AXLEROD - He's now nearly done with his intros. MILES AXLEROD ... and now, our last competitor --- Number 95, Lightning McQueen! MCQUEEN approaches the microphone, flashes his headlights. MCQUEEN Thank you so much for having us, Sir Axlerod. I really look forward to racing. This is a great opportunity. MILES AXLEROD Oh, the pleasure is all ours, Lightning. You and your team bring excellence and professionalism to this competition. As if on cue, Mater arrives with a piercing scream of pain. Everyone turns as he charges head first toward the stage, making a bee-line for that FOUNTAIN. MATER Somebody get me water! He laps up water from the fountain like a diabetic cat. MATER (LAPPING WATER) Sweet relief... Miles Axlerod is shocked. The crowd can't believe it. Francesco cackles. Mater, now sated, approaches the mic. MATER (to the crowd) Whatever you do, do not eat the free pistachio ice cream. It has turned! MCQUEEN Sir Axlerod, I can explain. This is Mater. 30. MILES AXLEROD I know him. This is the bloke that called into the television show. (TO MATER) You're the one I have to thank. MATER No, thank you. This trip's been amazing. MILES AXLEROD (TO MCQUEEN) He's a little excited, isn't he? TILT DOWN to reveal a pool of oil beneath Mater. MCQUEEN Mater! MATER But wait, I... oh, shoot. McQueen quickly pulls Mater aside, out of earshot of Miles Axlerod and the others. McQueen is beside himself. MCQUEEN Mater, you have to get a hold of yourself. You're making a scene. MATER But I never leak oil. Never. MCQUEEN Go take care of yourself right now. Mater drives off. ON MATER - MOMENTS LATER He drives through the party, frantic. MATER Coming through! Excuse me, leakin' oil. Where's the bathroom? Thank you. I gotta go! Someone points Mater down a hallway. He whips around the CORNER --- --- and STOPS. Finds himself in front of TWO BATHROOM DOORS, neither of which clearly indicate MALE or FEMALE. 31. MATER (CONFUSED) What the... Mater chooses one, drives inside. A SHRIEK is heard and Mater zips out. MATER Sorry ladies! He heads into the other door --- CUT TO: INT. MEN'S ROOM - NIGHT Mater rolls in, still `holding it in' like a kid. MATER I never leak I never leak I never leak... He sees someone leaving a stall. He heads in. IN THE STALL - Mater enters, looks up. MATER Wowee... The stall is a complicated apparatus with buttons and lights. High-tech Japanese. It suddenly GRABS MATER, hoists him up as if he's going to get an oil change. MATER What in the--- A Japanese style cartoon CARICATURE appears on a TV MONITOR, followed by images of waterfalls and rivers. MATER (GIGGLING) Hey, that tickles. The caricature starts talking in Japanese. Suddenly WATER FIRES UP underneath Mater's undercarriage, goosing him. He freaks out. OUTSIDE THE STALL - With Mater's yells audible we see a GREMLIN enter, furtive. Suddenly, inexplicably, his frame BREAKS APART like an egg, revealing an AMERICAN MUSCLE CAR underneath. The pieces of the Gremlin disappear under him, clearly his disguise. This is ROD REDLINE - American Agent. 32. ROD REDLINE Okay, McMissile. I'm here. It's time for the drop. INT. PARTY - SAME HOLLEY, rolls along by herself. Nervous. DING! Her rearview monitor springs to life. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) The American has activated his tracking beacon. FINN (OVER RADIO) Roger that. Move in. INT. BATHROOM - SAME Rod Redline, waiting at a sink, feels a presence behind him. GREM and ACER have entered, hesitate briefly when they see Rod Redline. Rod Redline, careful, slides a gun out of his tire. He is suddenly CHARGED by the AMCs --- Rod SPINS AROUND and gets a shot off but is SLAMMED HEAD FIRST. A TIGHT, CLOSE-QUARTERS FIGHT begins --- IN THE STALL - Mater, still TRAPPED, is now being SCRUBBED as if in a car wash. He is helpless. OUTSIDE THE STALL - Rod is being pulverized. Just when he scrambles away from one car, the other one takes over. IN THE STALL - Mater is mercifully released, but when he backs out --- --- Rod Redline is THROWN INTO MATER'S STALL DOOR, crunching it and sending Mater --- --- BACK INTO THE CLUTCHES of the insane toilet. INT. PARTY - SAME Holley isolates the tracking beacon's location in the party. HOLLEY Oh, you've got to be joking. FINN What's the problem, Shiftwell? HOLLEY He's in the loo. 33. FINN So go in! HOLLEY I can't just go into the men's loo. FINN Time is of the essence, Shiftwell. INT. BATHROOM - OUTSIDE THE STALL Rod Redline is in bad shape. He backs away, betrays a look of concern. He's in trouble here. ACER burns rubber, ready to finish him off. Just as he shifts into DRIVE --- --- MATER'S STALL DOOR KICKS OPEN, knocking ACER out. Mater jumps out, face-to-face GREM. MATER (out of breath) Whatever you do, I would not go in there. The door SWINGS shut, revealing the pulverized Acer. MATER A Gremlin and a Pacer! Rod Redline, now behind Mater and sensing an opportunity here, quickly produces A SMALL DEVICE. MATER (to Grem and Acer) No offense to your makes and models, but you guys break down harder than my cousin Betsy after she got left at the --- Rod Redline, surreptitiously attaches the device to Mater's undercarriage. MATER (as he's goosed) --- altar! He spins around, sees Rod Redline for the first time. MATER Are you okay? ROD REDLINE I'm fine. 34. GREM Hey. Tow truck. Mater turns back to Grem and Acer. GREM We'd like to get to our private business here, if you don't mind. MATER Oh, yeah. Don't let me get in the way of your "private business." Oh! A little advice: When you hear her giggle and see that waterfall, you best press that green button. GREM Thank you. MATER It's to adjust the temperature. ACER Got it. MATER Remember it's in Celsius, not Fahrenheit. GREM AND ACER Get outta here! MATER Alright then. Mater exits, leaving Rod Redline to a now even angrier Grem and Acer. EXT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER Holley arrives at the door. She takes a breath, is about to enter when Mater EXITS. MATER Excuse me, ma'am. He passes her, expelling some exhaust in the process. Holley's rearview tracking confirms that the device is on him. MATER (TO HIMSELF) Dadgum pistachio ice cream. 35. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) This cannot be him. FINN (OVER RADIO) Is he American? MATER (driving off, to himself) Look out, ladies. Mater's fittin' to get funky! HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Extremely. FINN (OVER RADIO) Then it's him. It's settled. Holley takes one more nervous breath, quickly closes the distance between her and Mater, cuts him off. He is forced to STOP. HOLLEY Hello. MATER Well, hello. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. MATER Well of course it doesn't. That's `cause it's air-cooled! HOLLEY (RELIEVED) Perfect. I'm from the Tokyo Station OF THE--- MATER Course, Karmann Ghia's weren't the only ones. Besides the Beetles you had your Type-3 Squarebacks, with the pancake motors... HOLLEY Yeah. Okay, I get it--- MATER ... And before both of them, there's the Type-2 buses - my buddy Fillmore's one of them. 36. HOLLEY Listen! We should find somewhere more private. MATER Uh, gee. Don't you think that's a little, uh --- HOLLEY (NERVOUS ENERGY) You're right. Impossible to know which areas here are compromised. So, when can I see you again? MATER Well, let's see. Tomorrow I'll be out there at the races. HOLLEY Got it. We'll rendezvous then. INT. PARTY - MOMENTS LATER Mater returns to his team, lost in thought. MCQUEEN There you are. Where have you been? MATER What's a rendezvous? LUIGI It's like a date. MATER A date?! MCQUEEN Mater, what's going on? MATER Well, what's going on is I've got me a date tomorrow. Guido makes a crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido don't believe you. MATER Well, believe it. My new girlfriend just said so. Hey, there she is. Mater points out Holley, who's within earshot. 37. MATER (YELLING) Hey! Hey lady! Holley, caught in plain view, DRIVES OFF. MATER See ya tomorrow! Guido makes another crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido still don't believe you. EXT. SHIPYARD - THE DOCKS - TOKYO NIGHT An industrial dock, outside of the city proper. INT. SHIPYARD - NIGHT Rod Redline dangles from a car magnet. He's been beaten up, clings to consciousness. GREM (O.S.) I gotta admit --- Grem, Acer, and a bunch of nasty looking troublemakers look up at Rod amidst crates and shipping containers. GREM --- you tricked us real good. ACER And we don't like being tricked. Rod Redline laughs to himself. ACER Hey, what's so funny? ROD REDLINE Well, you know, I was just wearing a disguise. You guys are stuck looking like that. This doesn't help him. They DROP HIM onto a TREADMILL, lock him down. A container is wheeled forward and Rod is plied with Allinol brand gasoline. ROD REDLINE Allinol? Thanks, fellas. I hear this stuff is good for you. 38. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (O.S.) So you think. The Professor emerges from the darkness, behind Rod. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Allinol by itself is good for you. Zundapp hits a button and the TREADMILL starts Rod's wheels spinning at a high rate of speed. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP But after microscopic examination, I have found that it has one small weakness. When hit with an electromagnetic pulse, it becomes extremely dangerous. GREM SMILE --- Grem pushes a World Grand Prix CAMERA - the same one that was in the box back at the oil derrick. He points it at Rod Redline. GREM --- for the camera. ROD REDLINE Is that all you want? I got a whole act. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You were very interested in this camera on the oil platform. Now you will witness what it really does. ROD REDLINE Whatever you say, Professor. Acer pushes a TV MONITOR toward Rod. On it, surveillance footage from the party. Clearly, they were watching and recording him there. ACER You talked up a lot of cars last night. Which one's your associate? ROD REDLINE Your mother. Oh no, I'm sorry. It was your sister. You know, I can't tell them apart these days. 39. GREM (HAD ENOUGH) Could I start it now, Professor? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Fifty percent power. (to Rod Redline) This camera is actually an electromagnetic pulse emitter. ACER (re: a girl on the TV) What about her? Did you give it to her? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The Allinol is now heating to a boil, dramatically expanding, causing the engine block to crack under the stress, forcing oil into the combustion chamber. Rod Redline's engine starts to CRACK and BREAK. ACER (re: a guy on the TV) How about him? You talk to him? ROD REDLINE (to Professor Zundapp) What do I care? I can replace an engine block. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You may be able to, but after full impact of the pulse, unfortunately, there will be nothing to replace. ACER How about him? Does he have it? The monitor reveals MATER, rolling out of the bathroom and down the hall. Rod Redline, seeing this, does the world's most subtle double take. We caught it, but there's no way anyone else in the room could have --- PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP That's him. He's the one. GREM Roger that, Professor Z. 40. ROD REDLINE No! As Grem turns up the machine even MORE, the Professor makes a call. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (INTO PHONE) Yes sir. We believe the infiltrator has passed along sensitive information. (beat, listening) I will take care of it before any damage can be done. The Professor hangs up, turns to the room. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The project is still on schedule. You will find this second agent --- Zundapp kicks the camera's power into the RED. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP --- and kill him. On the MONITOR - With Mater's frozen image on the screen we see Rod EXPLODE in the reflection. EXT. JAPAN - DAY Over television pre-roll of Japan: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Japan. Land of the rising sun. Where ancient tradition meets modern technology. Welcome to the inaugural running of the World Grand Prix. ON OUR ANNOUNCERS as they introduce themselves: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER I'm Brent Mustangburger, here with racing legends Darrell Cartrip and David Hobbscap. There's never been a competition like this before. SHOTS OF THE PITS as the racers fuel up. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) First, Allinol, making its debut tonight as the required fuel for all these great champions. (MORE) 41. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) (CONT'D) Second, the course itself, and it's like nothing we've ever seen. David, how exactly does this competition work? DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Well, Brent, all three of these street courses are classic round- the-house racetracks. OUTLINES OF THREE RACE COURSES are shown. They're labeled Japan, Italy and England, and are different in shape and size. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) This means that the LMP and Formula cars should break out of the gate in spectacular fashion. SHOTS OF THE RACERS as they weave up the track, practicing. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Look for Francesco Bernoulli in particular to lead early. SHOTS OF Francesco, featured in an inset. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) And with a series of technical turns throughout --- MORE SHOTS of the course, now highlighting the tech turns. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) GT and Touring cars like Spain's Miguel Camino should make up some ground but I doubt it'll be enough to stop Francesco from absolutely running away with it. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Woah, now just hold your horsepower. You're forgetting the most important factor here. That early dirt track section of the course! The dirt is supposed to be the great equalizer in this race. GRAPHICS OF THE COURSES now isolate a stretch after the first couple turns, label it "DIRT SECTIONS." 42. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) French Rally car Raoul aRoule is counting on a big boost headed through there. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) And don't forget Lightning McQueen! His mentor, the Hudson Hornet, was one of the greatest dirt track racers of all time. In my opinion, McQueen is the best all-around racer in this competition. BACK IN THE STUDIO DAVID HOBBSCAP Really, Darrell, I think you need to clean your windshield. You're clearly not seeing this for what it is: Francesco's race to lose. EXT. STARTING LINE - DAY BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) It's time to find out. The racers are locking into the grid --- Engines rev as everyone gets ready to go. Everyone's bright eyed and alert except for McQueen who we find in the back of the grid. He CLOSES his eyes. MCQUEEN (TO HIMSELF) Speed. I am speed. A LAUGH O.S. McQueen opens his eyes. Francesco is next to him on the grid. FRANCESCO Really? You are "speed"? Then Francesco is triple speed. (closes his eyes) Francesco. Is. Triple speed. Francesco likes this, McQueen. It's really getting him into the zone! MCQUEEN He is so getting beat today. The starting lights click down from RED to YELLOW to GREEN. The race begins. Francesco quickly grabs the lead. He's pulling away within seconds. 43. ON PIT ROW - We TRACK PAST as the various Crew Chiefs on their crash carts bark orders to their racers. We end on Team McQueen. No Crew Chief, just a solid looking team. SARGE His suspension stats look good. LUIGI Tire pressure is excellent. FILLMORE He's got plenty of fuel. MATER And he's awesome! CUT TO: The same view of Mater but now THROUGH A TELESCOPIC DISPLAY. Reveal Finn and Holley watching from high above in a downtown office building, behind reflective glass. HOLLEY Why is he in the pits? He's so exposed. FINN It's his cover. One of the best I've seen, too. Look at the detail on that rust. It must have cost him a fortune. HOLLEY But why hasn't he contacted us yet? FINN There's probably heat on him. Be patient. HOLLEY Right, of course. He'll signal us when he can. FINN And then we find out who's behind all this. ON THE TRACK - VARIOUS SHOTS OF THE RACE through Tokyo as Francesco extends his lead and McQueen attempts to make up ground. 44. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - Mater watches the monitors, sees them approaching the dirt section. MATER McQueen! It's time to make your move. Get on the outside and show 'em what Doc done taught you. MCQUEEN (OVER RADIO) Ten four, Mater. ON THE TRACK - Francesco hits the dirt section and loses all control. He SLAMS to a halt, his tires getting no traction. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Francesco is brought to a screeching halt! MCQUEEN skids into view, turning right to go left, passing Francesco, followed by other cars --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Lightning McQueen is the first to take advantage. And just like that, folks, Francesco's lead is left in the dust. MCQUEEN Nice call, Mater. Keep it up! McQueen now leads the pack, zooming out of the dirt now starting to relax. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Who-hoo! Man, McQueen looks happier than a rollbar at a demolition derby! ON PAVED ROAD AGAIN - MOMENTS LATER The field of cars thunders into a tunnel. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Everyone's jostling for position as we hit the asphalt again. Francesco crests the hill, in last place. He bites down, determined, then CHASES. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco lost a lot of momentum in the dirt. He's got some serious work ahead of him if he wants to get back in this race. 45. VARIOUS SHOTS OF TOKYO as the racers move through the Rainbow Bridge. Bit by bit, Francesco ekes his way toward the front, toward Lightning McQueen as we CUT TO --- --- A ROOFTOP, and a VIEW THROUGH THE WGP CAMERA LENS. Grem and Acer are manning this one. They focus it on the racers as they approach. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (OVER RADIO) It is time. GREM Roger that. ON THE TRACK - A racer (Miguel Camino) suddenly PLUMES WITH SMOKE and skids out. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Oh! Miguel Camino has blown an engine! BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Very unusual, Darrell. He's been so consistent all year. Camino quickly pits, passing McQueen's pit where Mater is visible. ON GREM AND ACER, watching from above. GREM You gotta be kidding me. ACER What is it? GREM It's that tow truck from the bathroom. ACER The one from the bathroom? GREM Yeah, the one the American Agent passed the device to. ACER What about him? GREM What about him? He's in the pits! 46. ACER Not for long. Acer exits, with purpose. ON FINN AND HOLLEY, still in their office hideaway. Holley's onboard computer flashes an ALERT. HOLLEY Hold on. I think I've got something. FINN What is it? HOLLEY The Pacer from the party last night. She's spotted Acer, moving swiftly forward. HOLLEY Cross-referencing with the photos from the oil derricks... Yep. His VIN numbers match. FINN Anyone with him? He won't be alone. HOLLEY Conducting analysis on the target. The computer finds more and more bad guy Pacers and Gremlins are in the crowd. HOLLEY He's not the only one here. Three... five... they're everywhere. And they're all closing in on... oh no. We PAN OVER to see it's MATER. HOLLEY Finn? Finn, where are you? She turns. He's GONE, leaving only an open window. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of the pits now! IN MCQUEEN'S PIT. A car WHIPS BY O.S. 47. MATER Wow! Some of them fellers is really loud. HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Can you hear me? Over. MATER Uh, what? HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Get out of the pit now. Do you hear me? Mater realizes this girl has somehow broken into his radio. MATER (INTO RADIO) Hey, I know you. You're that girl from the party last night. You wanna do our date right now? ON THE TRACK - McQueen boxes out Francesco, holds his slim lead, but barely. MCQUEEN Guys, a little too much chatter. Let's keep this line clear. BOOM! A racer behind McQueen suddenly expels black smoke, skids out of control. ON GREM - laughing. That was clearly his handiwork. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - SAME HOLLEY (ON MATER'S RADIO) There's no time for messing about. You've got to get out of the pits. MATER Is there gonna be cable where you is so I can watch the rest of the race? ON HOLLEY - Watching from the downtown building. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) You're running out of time! FINN (OVER RADIO) They're coming, Shiftwell. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Yes, I know. 48. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of there. HOLLEY (TO FINN) I'm trying. (TO MATER) Get out now! We CUT BACK TO --- --- MATER. He gives in, exits the pit. MATER Well, all right but I usually like to have a proper detailing done before I meet a lady friend. He moves toward the back PIT DOOR, is about to open it. OUTSIDE THE PITS - ACER and another Pacer approach McQueen's pit door on the other side. Ready to pounce. The doors OPEN, REVEALING --- --- Finn, holding a fire extinguisher. ACER Finn McMissile? But you're dead! FINN Then this shouldn't hurt at all. He empties the extinguisher in their eyes, speeds past. They try and follow, but have been blinded. One of them crashes right into a COP. ON FINN - Already on the move, along a side street. FINN Miss Shiftwell? ON HOLLEY - Tracking everything on a grid map. Mater looks like Pac Man, weaving through the streets as bad guys close in all around him. HOLLEY I've got him in the back alleys east of the garages. Multiple assailants are closing in quickly. FINN (OVER RADIO) Keep him moving. I'm on my way. ON MATER - He turns a corner, sees a flower shop. 49. MATER Hey, new lady friend? You like flowers? ON THE TRACK - McQueen, hearing this, is taken aback. MCQUEEN What? ON MATER - Slowing at the flower shop. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go 'in' anywhere. Just keep moving. MATER Stay outside. Gotcha. ON THE TRACK MCQUEEN Outside? McQueen drifts outside allowing Francesco to slip past! FRANCESCO Grazie and arrivaderci! DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) I cannot believe what I just saw, Brent. That was a bonehead move. You don't open up the inside like that! IN THE BACK ALLEYS - As Mater moves on he's followed by Pacers and Gremlins. Suddenly --- --- CABLES whip in front of them, pulling over flower vending machines and sending the shop's owners into a frenzy. They direct their attention to the AMCs, who try and explain. ON FINN, admiring his handiwork as he appears. Just as he turns to leave he's BROADSIDED and pushed INTO A DARK ALLEY. IN THE ALLEY - Finn finds himself boxed by two Pacers and pushed toward --- --- ACER, who now holds a FLAME THROWER. ACER This time I'm gonna make sure you stay dead. He hits the flame. WHOOOSSSH!! 50. ON ANOTHER STREET - Mater clicks along, still looking for Holley. Just as he passes the alley entrance where Finn stares down death: HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) You're doing brilliantly. Now just stay focused. MATER What's that? You want me to head toward that ruckus? Mater turns INTO the alley. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go down that street! IN THE ALLEY - Finn, now nearly pushed completely into the flame thrower, leaps into the air. He FIGHTS BACK, using his wheels, axle, indeed his entire car frame as if he were human, kicking and tossing and shooting his enemies. Mater witnesses the whole thing. MATER Wow! A live karate demonstration! ON THE TRACK - McQueen, now playing catch-up again, scowls. MCQUEEN Stop it, Mater. Just sign off. IN THE BACK ALLEY - Finn polishes off the AMCs by firing a bullet into a gas main line, causing an EXPLOSION that tosses Acer through the air where he lands in a NOODLE SHOP'S SIGN. ON THE TRACK - The end of the race is nigh --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) They're bumper to bumper as they approach the finish line! The Formula car gets there first. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco's the winner, McQueen's number two! IN THE ALLEY - Finn heaves breaths, surveys his damage. MATER That was cool! Hey, can I get your autograph? 51. Mater approaches when a MASS OF RACE FANS burst out a door, momentarily blocking Mater's view of Finn. Once the fans have past, Finn has disappeared. MATER Hey, where'd he go? HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) Our rendezvous has been jeopardized. Keep the device safe. We'll be in touch. MATER Dadgum, did I miss our date? EXT. PRESS STAGE - LATER Post race press conference. Francesco is center stage. DARRELL CARTRIP Francesco, over here! Hey, what was your strategy today? FRANCESCO Strategia? Francesco needs no strategy, it's very simple. You start the race, wait for Lightning McQueen to choke, pass him, then win. Francesco always wins. It's boring. McQueen, waiting in the wings, rolls his eyes. He suddenly notices something O.S. McQueen's P.O.V. - It's MATER, appearing from a side street, moving toward the pits, oblivious of the press conference. DARRELL CARTRIP (TO FRANCESCO) I gotta tell you, dude. You were in trouble for awhile. That dirt track section had you crawling! As McQueen SNEAKS AWAY --- FRANCESCO To truly crush one's dream, you must first raise their hopes very high. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT GARAGE - Mater looks around for everyone as McQueen approaches. 52. MCQUEEN Mater. MATER Hey McQueen! What happened? Is the race over? You won, right? MCQUEEN Mater, why were you yelling things at me while I was racing? MATER Yelling? Oh, you thought... that's funny right there. Nah, see that's `cause I seen these two fellers doing some sort of karate street performance. It was nutso. One of them even had a flamethrower --- MCQUEEN A flamethrower? What are you talking about? I don't understand. Where were you? MATER Going to meet my date. MCQUEEN Your date? MATER She started talking to me as a voice in my head, telling me where to go --- MCQUEEN What? MATER Wait a minute -- I didn't screw you up, did I? MCQUEEN I lost the race because of you! MATER Well, I'm sorry. I didn't mean --- MCQUEEN An imaginary girlfriend, flamethrowers. This is exactly why I don't bring you along to these things. 53. MATER Maybe if I, I don't know, talked to somebody and explained what happened I could help. MCQUEEN I don't need your help. I don't want your help. PRESS (O.S.) Hey, there he is!! The press finds McQueen, swarms him. Mater is pushed backwards as the questions fly again. PRESS - McQueen, you had it in the bag! - Yeah, what happened? MCQUEEN I made a mistake. But I can assure you, it won't happen again. On Mater. He takes this badly. MCQUEEN Look, guys. We know what the problem is and we've taken care of it. SMASH TO: OVER FOOTAGE OF FRANCESCO and various other highlights: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER Lightning McQueen loses in the last lap to Francesco Bernoulli in the first race of the World Grand Prix and three, count em, three cars

ghia

How many times the word 'ghia' appears in the text?

Finn. Meet HOLLEY SHIFTWELL. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. FINN That's because it's air-cooled. HOLLEY I'm Agent Shiftwell, Holley Shiftwell from the Tokyo Station. I have a message from London. FINN Not here. (LOUDLY) You must try the canapes on the mezzanine! He moves her onto an elevator. The doors close on them. IN THE ELEVATOR, GOING UP. FINN So the lab boys analyzed the photo I sent? What did they learn about the camera? HOLLEY It appears to be a standard television camera. They said if you could get closer photos next time, that would be great. FINN This was London's message? 27. HOLLEY Oh -- no, no. No sir. Um, the oil platforms you were on? Turns out they're sitting on the biggest oil reserve in the world. FINN How did we miss that? HOLLEY They'd been scrambling everyone's satellites. The Americans actually discovered it just before you did. They placed an agent on that platform, under deep cover. He was able to get a photo of the car who's running the entire operation. The doors OPEN and they exit onto the Mezzanine. FINN Who is it? Has anyone seen the photo yet? HOLLEY No, not yet. The American is here tonight to pass it to you. He'll signal you when he's ready. FINN GOOD --- Finn suddenly STOPS COLD. FINN Oh no. Professor Zundapp is visible below them. He talks with a few Pacers and Gremlins. Finn quickly retreats into the shadows. Holley follows suit. HOLLEY What is it? FINN Change of plan. You're meeting the American. HOLLEY What, me? 28. FINN Those thugs down there were on the oil platform. If they see me, the whole mission is compromised. HOLLEY No, no. I'm technical, you see. I'm in Diagnostics. I'm not a field agent. FINN You are now. CUT TO: MATER as he grabs a drink, keeps moving. MATER I'll take one of them. He snatches it, drops it in the back where we now see a large assortment of drinks balanced. MATER Never know which one McQueen'll have a hankering for. He approaches a sushi bar. MATER Hey, what you got here that's free? How about that pistachio ice cream? He refers to wasabi, of course. SUSHI CHEF No, no. Wasabi. MATER Oh, same ol', same ol'. What's up with you? That looks delicious. The chef starts to carve a small scoop aside for Mater. MATER Uh, a little more, please. It is free, right? (the chef adds more) Keep it coming. A little more. Come on, let's go, it's free! You're getting there... Scoop scoop! The chef gives in. Scoops a baseball-sized ball out. 29. MATER There you go. Now THAT's a scoop of ice cream. SUSHI CHEF (in Japanese, subtitles) My condolences. CUT BACK TO: MILES AXLEROD - He's now nearly done with his intros. MILES AXLEROD ... and now, our last competitor --- Number 95, Lightning McQueen! MCQUEEN approaches the microphone, flashes his headlights. MCQUEEN Thank you so much for having us, Sir Axlerod. I really look forward to racing. This is a great opportunity. MILES AXLEROD Oh, the pleasure is all ours, Lightning. You and your team bring excellence and professionalism to this competition. As if on cue, Mater arrives with a piercing scream of pain. Everyone turns as he charges head first toward the stage, making a bee-line for that FOUNTAIN. MATER Somebody get me water! He laps up water from the fountain like a diabetic cat. MATER (LAPPING WATER) Sweet relief... Miles Axlerod is shocked. The crowd can't believe it. Francesco cackles. Mater, now sated, approaches the mic. MATER (to the crowd) Whatever you do, do not eat the free pistachio ice cream. It has turned! MCQUEEN Sir Axlerod, I can explain. This is Mater. 30. MILES AXLEROD I know him. This is the bloke that called into the television show. (TO MATER) You're the one I have to thank. MATER No, thank you. This trip's been amazing. MILES AXLEROD (TO MCQUEEN) He's a little excited, isn't he? TILT DOWN to reveal a pool of oil beneath Mater. MCQUEEN Mater! MATER But wait, I... oh, shoot. McQueen quickly pulls Mater aside, out of earshot of Miles Axlerod and the others. McQueen is beside himself. MCQUEEN Mater, you have to get a hold of yourself. You're making a scene. MATER But I never leak oil. Never. MCQUEEN Go take care of yourself right now. Mater drives off. ON MATER - MOMENTS LATER He drives through the party, frantic. MATER Coming through! Excuse me, leakin' oil. Where's the bathroom? Thank you. I gotta go! Someone points Mater down a hallway. He whips around the CORNER --- --- and STOPS. Finds himself in front of TWO BATHROOM DOORS, neither of which clearly indicate MALE or FEMALE. 31. MATER (CONFUSED) What the... Mater chooses one, drives inside. A SHRIEK is heard and Mater zips out. MATER Sorry ladies! He heads into the other door --- CUT TO: INT. MEN'S ROOM - NIGHT Mater rolls in, still `holding it in' like a kid. MATER I never leak I never leak I never leak... He sees someone leaving a stall. He heads in. IN THE STALL - Mater enters, looks up. MATER Wowee... The stall is a complicated apparatus with buttons and lights. High-tech Japanese. It suddenly GRABS MATER, hoists him up as if he's going to get an oil change. MATER What in the--- A Japanese style cartoon CARICATURE appears on a TV MONITOR, followed by images of waterfalls and rivers. MATER (GIGGLING) Hey, that tickles. The caricature starts talking in Japanese. Suddenly WATER FIRES UP underneath Mater's undercarriage, goosing him. He freaks out. OUTSIDE THE STALL - With Mater's yells audible we see a GREMLIN enter, furtive. Suddenly, inexplicably, his frame BREAKS APART like an egg, revealing an AMERICAN MUSCLE CAR underneath. The pieces of the Gremlin disappear under him, clearly his disguise. This is ROD REDLINE - American Agent. 32. ROD REDLINE Okay, McMissile. I'm here. It's time for the drop. INT. PARTY - SAME HOLLEY, rolls along by herself. Nervous. DING! Her rearview monitor springs to life. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) The American has activated his tracking beacon. FINN (OVER RADIO) Roger that. Move in. INT. BATHROOM - SAME Rod Redline, waiting at a sink, feels a presence behind him. GREM and ACER have entered, hesitate briefly when they see Rod Redline. Rod Redline, careful, slides a gun out of his tire. He is suddenly CHARGED by the AMCs --- Rod SPINS AROUND and gets a shot off but is SLAMMED HEAD FIRST. A TIGHT, CLOSE-QUARTERS FIGHT begins --- IN THE STALL - Mater, still TRAPPED, is now being SCRUBBED as if in a car wash. He is helpless. OUTSIDE THE STALL - Rod is being pulverized. Just when he scrambles away from one car, the other one takes over. IN THE STALL - Mater is mercifully released, but when he backs out --- --- Rod Redline is THROWN INTO MATER'S STALL DOOR, crunching it and sending Mater --- --- BACK INTO THE CLUTCHES of the insane toilet. INT. PARTY - SAME Holley isolates the tracking beacon's location in the party. HOLLEY Oh, you've got to be joking. FINN What's the problem, Shiftwell? HOLLEY He's in the loo. 33. FINN So go in! HOLLEY I can't just go into the men's loo. FINN Time is of the essence, Shiftwell. INT. BATHROOM - OUTSIDE THE STALL Rod Redline is in bad shape. He backs away, betrays a look of concern. He's in trouble here. ACER burns rubber, ready to finish him off. Just as he shifts into DRIVE --- --- MATER'S STALL DOOR KICKS OPEN, knocking ACER out. Mater jumps out, face-to-face GREM. MATER (out of breath) Whatever you do, I would not go in there. The door SWINGS shut, revealing the pulverized Acer. MATER A Gremlin and a Pacer! Rod Redline, now behind Mater and sensing an opportunity here, quickly produces A SMALL DEVICE. MATER (to Grem and Acer) No offense to your makes and models, but you guys break down harder than my cousin Betsy after she got left at the --- Rod Redline, surreptitiously attaches the device to Mater's undercarriage. MATER (as he's goosed) --- altar! He spins around, sees Rod Redline for the first time. MATER Are you okay? ROD REDLINE I'm fine. 34. GREM Hey. Tow truck. Mater turns back to Grem and Acer. GREM We'd like to get to our private business here, if you don't mind. MATER Oh, yeah. Don't let me get in the way of your "private business." Oh! A little advice: When you hear her giggle and see that waterfall, you best press that green button. GREM Thank you. MATER It's to adjust the temperature. ACER Got it. MATER Remember it's in Celsius, not Fahrenheit. GREM AND ACER Get outta here! MATER Alright then. Mater exits, leaving Rod Redline to a now even angrier Grem and Acer. EXT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER Holley arrives at the door. She takes a breath, is about to enter when Mater EXITS. MATER Excuse me, ma'am. He passes her, expelling some exhaust in the process. Holley's rearview tracking confirms that the device is on him. MATER (TO HIMSELF) Dadgum pistachio ice cream. 35. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) This cannot be him. FINN (OVER RADIO) Is he American? MATER (driving off, to himself) Look out, ladies. Mater's fittin' to get funky! HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Extremely. FINN (OVER RADIO) Then it's him. It's settled. Holley takes one more nervous breath, quickly closes the distance between her and Mater, cuts him off. He is forced to STOP. HOLLEY Hello. MATER Well, hello. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. MATER Well of course it doesn't. That's `cause it's air-cooled! HOLLEY (RELIEVED) Perfect. I'm from the Tokyo Station OF THE--- MATER Course, Karmann Ghia's weren't the only ones. Besides the Beetles you had your Type-3 Squarebacks, with the pancake motors... HOLLEY Yeah. Okay, I get it--- MATER ... And before both of them, there's the Type-2 buses - my buddy Fillmore's one of them. 36. HOLLEY Listen! We should find somewhere more private. MATER Uh, gee. Don't you think that's a little, uh --- HOLLEY (NERVOUS ENERGY) You're right. Impossible to know which areas here are compromised. So, when can I see you again? MATER Well, let's see. Tomorrow I'll be out there at the races. HOLLEY Got it. We'll rendezvous then. INT. PARTY - MOMENTS LATER Mater returns to his team, lost in thought. MCQUEEN There you are. Where have you been? MATER What's a rendezvous? LUIGI It's like a date. MATER A date?! MCQUEEN Mater, what's going on? MATER Well, what's going on is I've got me a date tomorrow. Guido makes a crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido don't believe you. MATER Well, believe it. My new girlfriend just said so. Hey, there she is. Mater points out Holley, who's within earshot. 37. MATER (YELLING) Hey! Hey lady! Holley, caught in plain view, DRIVES OFF. MATER See ya tomorrow! Guido makes another crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido still don't believe you. EXT. SHIPYARD - THE DOCKS - TOKYO NIGHT An industrial dock, outside of the city proper. INT. SHIPYARD - NIGHT Rod Redline dangles from a car magnet. He's been beaten up, clings to consciousness. GREM (O.S.) I gotta admit --- Grem, Acer, and a bunch of nasty looking troublemakers look up at Rod amidst crates and shipping containers. GREM --- you tricked us real good. ACER And we don't like being tricked. Rod Redline laughs to himself. ACER Hey, what's so funny? ROD REDLINE Well, you know, I was just wearing a disguise. You guys are stuck looking like that. This doesn't help him. They DROP HIM onto a TREADMILL, lock him down. A container is wheeled forward and Rod is plied with Allinol brand gasoline. ROD REDLINE Allinol? Thanks, fellas. I hear this stuff is good for you. 38. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (O.S.) So you think. The Professor emerges from the darkness, behind Rod. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Allinol by itself is good for you. Zundapp hits a button and the TREADMILL starts Rod's wheels spinning at a high rate of speed. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP But after microscopic examination, I have found that it has one small weakness. When hit with an electromagnetic pulse, it becomes extremely dangerous. GREM SMILE --- Grem pushes a World Grand Prix CAMERA - the same one that was in the box back at the oil derrick. He points it at Rod Redline. GREM --- for the camera. ROD REDLINE Is that all you want? I got a whole act. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You were very interested in this camera on the oil platform. Now you will witness what it really does. ROD REDLINE Whatever you say, Professor. Acer pushes a TV MONITOR toward Rod. On it, surveillance footage from the party. Clearly, they were watching and recording him there. ACER You talked up a lot of cars last night. Which one's your associate? ROD REDLINE Your mother. Oh no, I'm sorry. It was your sister. You know, I can't tell them apart these days. 39. GREM (HAD ENOUGH) Could I start it now, Professor? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Fifty percent power. (to Rod Redline) This camera is actually an electromagnetic pulse emitter. ACER (re: a girl on the TV) What about her? Did you give it to her? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The Allinol is now heating to a boil, dramatically expanding, causing the engine block to crack under the stress, forcing oil into the combustion chamber. Rod Redline's engine starts to CRACK and BREAK. ACER (re: a guy on the TV) How about him? You talk to him? ROD REDLINE (to Professor Zundapp) What do I care? I can replace an engine block. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You may be able to, but after full impact of the pulse, unfortunately, there will be nothing to replace. ACER How about him? Does he have it? The monitor reveals MATER, rolling out of the bathroom and down the hall. Rod Redline, seeing this, does the world's most subtle double take. We caught it, but there's no way anyone else in the room could have --- PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP That's him. He's the one. GREM Roger that, Professor Z. 40. ROD REDLINE No! As Grem turns up the machine even MORE, the Professor makes a call. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (INTO PHONE) Yes sir. We believe the infiltrator has passed along sensitive information. (beat, listening) I will take care of it before any damage can be done. The Professor hangs up, turns to the room. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The project is still on schedule. You will find this second agent --- Zundapp kicks the camera's power into the RED. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP --- and kill him. On the MONITOR - With Mater's frozen image on the screen we see Rod EXPLODE in the reflection. EXT. JAPAN - DAY Over television pre-roll of Japan: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Japan. Land of the rising sun. Where ancient tradition meets modern technology. Welcome to the inaugural running of the World Grand Prix. ON OUR ANNOUNCERS as they introduce themselves: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER I'm Brent Mustangburger, here with racing legends Darrell Cartrip and David Hobbscap. There's never been a competition like this before. SHOTS OF THE PITS as the racers fuel up. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) First, Allinol, making its debut tonight as the required fuel for all these great champions. (MORE) 41. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) (CONT'D) Second, the course itself, and it's like nothing we've ever seen. David, how exactly does this competition work? DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Well, Brent, all three of these street courses are classic round- the-house racetracks. OUTLINES OF THREE RACE COURSES are shown. They're labeled Japan, Italy and England, and are different in shape and size. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) This means that the LMP and Formula cars should break out of the gate in spectacular fashion. SHOTS OF THE RACERS as they weave up the track, practicing. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Look for Francesco Bernoulli in particular to lead early. SHOTS OF Francesco, featured in an inset. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) And with a series of technical turns throughout --- MORE SHOTS of the course, now highlighting the tech turns. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) GT and Touring cars like Spain's Miguel Camino should make up some ground but I doubt it'll be enough to stop Francesco from absolutely running away with it. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Woah, now just hold your horsepower. You're forgetting the most important factor here. That early dirt track section of the course! The dirt is supposed to be the great equalizer in this race. GRAPHICS OF THE COURSES now isolate a stretch after the first couple turns, label it "DIRT SECTIONS." 42. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) French Rally car Raoul aRoule is counting on a big boost headed through there. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) And don't forget Lightning McQueen! His mentor, the Hudson Hornet, was one of the greatest dirt track racers of all time. In my opinion, McQueen is the best all-around racer in this competition. BACK IN THE STUDIO DAVID HOBBSCAP Really, Darrell, I think you need to clean your windshield. You're clearly not seeing this for what it is: Francesco's race to lose. EXT. STARTING LINE - DAY BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) It's time to find out. The racers are locking into the grid --- Engines rev as everyone gets ready to go. Everyone's bright eyed and alert except for McQueen who we find in the back of the grid. He CLOSES his eyes. MCQUEEN (TO HIMSELF) Speed. I am speed. A LAUGH O.S. McQueen opens his eyes. Francesco is next to him on the grid. FRANCESCO Really? You are "speed"? Then Francesco is triple speed. (closes his eyes) Francesco. Is. Triple speed. Francesco likes this, McQueen. It's really getting him into the zone! MCQUEEN He is so getting beat today. The starting lights click down from RED to YELLOW to GREEN. The race begins. Francesco quickly grabs the lead. He's pulling away within seconds. 43. ON PIT ROW - We TRACK PAST as the various Crew Chiefs on their crash carts bark orders to their racers. We end on Team McQueen. No Crew Chief, just a solid looking team. SARGE His suspension stats look good. LUIGI Tire pressure is excellent. FILLMORE He's got plenty of fuel. MATER And he's awesome! CUT TO: The same view of Mater but now THROUGH A TELESCOPIC DISPLAY. Reveal Finn and Holley watching from high above in a downtown office building, behind reflective glass. HOLLEY Why is he in the pits? He's so exposed. FINN It's his cover. One of the best I've seen, too. Look at the detail on that rust. It must have cost him a fortune. HOLLEY But why hasn't he contacted us yet? FINN There's probably heat on him. Be patient. HOLLEY Right, of course. He'll signal us when he can. FINN And then we find out who's behind all this. ON THE TRACK - VARIOUS SHOTS OF THE RACE through Tokyo as Francesco extends his lead and McQueen attempts to make up ground. 44. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - Mater watches the monitors, sees them approaching the dirt section. MATER McQueen! It's time to make your move. Get on the outside and show 'em what Doc done taught you. MCQUEEN (OVER RADIO) Ten four, Mater. ON THE TRACK - Francesco hits the dirt section and loses all control. He SLAMS to a halt, his tires getting no traction. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Francesco is brought to a screeching halt! MCQUEEN skids into view, turning right to go left, passing Francesco, followed by other cars --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Lightning McQueen is the first to take advantage. And just like that, folks, Francesco's lead is left in the dust. MCQUEEN Nice call, Mater. Keep it up! McQueen now leads the pack, zooming out of the dirt now starting to relax. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Who-hoo! Man, McQueen looks happier than a rollbar at a demolition derby! ON PAVED ROAD AGAIN - MOMENTS LATER The field of cars thunders into a tunnel. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Everyone's jostling for position as we hit the asphalt again. Francesco crests the hill, in last place. He bites down, determined, then CHASES. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco lost a lot of momentum in the dirt. He's got some serious work ahead of him if he wants to get back in this race. 45. VARIOUS SHOTS OF TOKYO as the racers move through the Rainbow Bridge. Bit by bit, Francesco ekes his way toward the front, toward Lightning McQueen as we CUT TO --- --- A ROOFTOP, and a VIEW THROUGH THE WGP CAMERA LENS. Grem and Acer are manning this one. They focus it on the racers as they approach. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (OVER RADIO) It is time. GREM Roger that. ON THE TRACK - A racer (Miguel Camino) suddenly PLUMES WITH SMOKE and skids out. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Oh! Miguel Camino has blown an engine! BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Very unusual, Darrell. He's been so consistent all year. Camino quickly pits, passing McQueen's pit where Mater is visible. ON GREM AND ACER, watching from above. GREM You gotta be kidding me. ACER What is it? GREM It's that tow truck from the bathroom. ACER The one from the bathroom? GREM Yeah, the one the American Agent passed the device to. ACER What about him? GREM What about him? He's in the pits! 46. ACER Not for long. Acer exits, with purpose. ON FINN AND HOLLEY, still in their office hideaway. Holley's onboard computer flashes an ALERT. HOLLEY Hold on. I think I've got something. FINN What is it? HOLLEY The Pacer from the party last night. She's spotted Acer, moving swiftly forward. HOLLEY Cross-referencing with the photos from the oil derricks... Yep. His VIN numbers match. FINN Anyone with him? He won't be alone. HOLLEY Conducting analysis on the target. The computer finds more and more bad guy Pacers and Gremlins are in the crowd. HOLLEY He's not the only one here. Three... five... they're everywhere. And they're all closing in on... oh no. We PAN OVER to see it's MATER. HOLLEY Finn? Finn, where are you? She turns. He's GONE, leaving only an open window. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of the pits now! IN MCQUEEN'S PIT. A car WHIPS BY O.S. 47. MATER Wow! Some of them fellers is really loud. HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Can you hear me? Over. MATER Uh, what? HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Get out of the pit now. Do you hear me? Mater realizes this girl has somehow broken into his radio. MATER (INTO RADIO) Hey, I know you. You're that girl from the party last night. You wanna do our date right now? ON THE TRACK - McQueen boxes out Francesco, holds his slim lead, but barely. MCQUEEN Guys, a little too much chatter. Let's keep this line clear. BOOM! A racer behind McQueen suddenly expels black smoke, skids out of control. ON GREM - laughing. That was clearly his handiwork. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - SAME HOLLEY (ON MATER'S RADIO) There's no time for messing about. You've got to get out of the pits. MATER Is there gonna be cable where you is so I can watch the rest of the race? ON HOLLEY - Watching from the downtown building. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) You're running out of time! FINN (OVER RADIO) They're coming, Shiftwell. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Yes, I know. 48. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of there. HOLLEY (TO FINN) I'm trying. (TO MATER) Get out now! We CUT BACK TO --- --- MATER. He gives in, exits the pit. MATER Well, all right but I usually like to have a proper detailing done before I meet a lady friend. He moves toward the back PIT DOOR, is about to open it. OUTSIDE THE PITS - ACER and another Pacer approach McQueen's pit door on the other side. Ready to pounce. The doors OPEN, REVEALING --- --- Finn, holding a fire extinguisher. ACER Finn McMissile? But you're dead! FINN Then this shouldn't hurt at all. He empties the extinguisher in their eyes, speeds past. They try and follow, but have been blinded. One of them crashes right into a COP. ON FINN - Already on the move, along a side street. FINN Miss Shiftwell? ON HOLLEY - Tracking everything on a grid map. Mater looks like Pac Man, weaving through the streets as bad guys close in all around him. HOLLEY I've got him in the back alleys east of the garages. Multiple assailants are closing in quickly. FINN (OVER RADIO) Keep him moving. I'm on my way. ON MATER - He turns a corner, sees a flower shop. 49. MATER Hey, new lady friend? You like flowers? ON THE TRACK - McQueen, hearing this, is taken aback. MCQUEEN What? ON MATER - Slowing at the flower shop. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go 'in' anywhere. Just keep moving. MATER Stay outside. Gotcha. ON THE TRACK MCQUEEN Outside? McQueen drifts outside allowing Francesco to slip past! FRANCESCO Grazie and arrivaderci! DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) I cannot believe what I just saw, Brent. That was a bonehead move. You don't open up the inside like that! IN THE BACK ALLEYS - As Mater moves on he's followed by Pacers and Gremlins. Suddenly --- --- CABLES whip in front of them, pulling over flower vending machines and sending the shop's owners into a frenzy. They direct their attention to the AMCs, who try and explain. ON FINN, admiring his handiwork as he appears. Just as he turns to leave he's BROADSIDED and pushed INTO A DARK ALLEY. IN THE ALLEY - Finn finds himself boxed by two Pacers and pushed toward --- --- ACER, who now holds a FLAME THROWER. ACER This time I'm gonna make sure you stay dead. He hits the flame. WHOOOSSSH!! 50. ON ANOTHER STREET - Mater clicks along, still looking for Holley. Just as he passes the alley entrance where Finn stares down death: HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) You're doing brilliantly. Now just stay focused. MATER What's that? You want me to head toward that ruckus? Mater turns INTO the alley. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go down that street! IN THE ALLEY - Finn, now nearly pushed completely into the flame thrower, leaps into the air. He FIGHTS BACK, using his wheels, axle, indeed his entire car frame as if he were human, kicking and tossing and shooting his enemies. Mater witnesses the whole thing. MATER Wow! A live karate demonstration! ON THE TRACK - McQueen, now playing catch-up again, scowls. MCQUEEN Stop it, Mater. Just sign off. IN THE BACK ALLEY - Finn polishes off the AMCs by firing a bullet into a gas main line, causing an EXPLOSION that tosses Acer through the air where he lands in a NOODLE SHOP'S SIGN. ON THE TRACK - The end of the race is nigh --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) They're bumper to bumper as they approach the finish line! The Formula car gets there first. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco's the winner, McQueen's number two! IN THE ALLEY - Finn heaves breaths, surveys his damage. MATER That was cool! Hey, can I get your autograph? 51. Mater approaches when a MASS OF RACE FANS burst out a door, momentarily blocking Mater's view of Finn. Once the fans have past, Finn has disappeared. MATER Hey, where'd he go? HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) Our rendezvous has been jeopardized. Keep the device safe. We'll be in touch. MATER Dadgum, did I miss our date? EXT. PRESS STAGE - LATER Post race press conference. Francesco is center stage. DARRELL CARTRIP Francesco, over here! Hey, what was your strategy today? FRANCESCO Strategia? Francesco needs no strategy, it's very simple. You start the race, wait for Lightning McQueen to choke, pass him, then win. Francesco always wins. It's boring. McQueen, waiting in the wings, rolls his eyes. He suddenly notices something O.S. McQueen's P.O.V. - It's MATER, appearing from a side street, moving toward the pits, oblivious of the press conference. DARRELL CARTRIP (TO FRANCESCO) I gotta tell you, dude. You were in trouble for awhile. That dirt track section had you crawling! As McQueen SNEAKS AWAY --- FRANCESCO To truly crush one's dream, you must first raise their hopes very high. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT GARAGE - Mater looks around for everyone as McQueen approaches. 52. MCQUEEN Mater. MATER Hey McQueen! What happened? Is the race over? You won, right? MCQUEEN Mater, why were you yelling things at me while I was racing? MATER Yelling? Oh, you thought... that's funny right there. Nah, see that's `cause I seen these two fellers doing some sort of karate street performance. It was nutso. One of them even had a flamethrower --- MCQUEEN A flamethrower? What are you talking about? I don't understand. Where were you? MATER Going to meet my date. MCQUEEN Your date? MATER She started talking to me as a voice in my head, telling me where to go --- MCQUEEN What? MATER Wait a minute -- I didn't screw you up, did I? MCQUEEN I lost the race because of you! MATER Well, I'm sorry. I didn't mean --- MCQUEEN An imaginary girlfriend, flamethrowers. This is exactly why I don't bring you along to these things. 53. MATER Maybe if I, I don't know, talked to somebody and explained what happened I could help. MCQUEEN I don't need your help. I don't want your help. PRESS (O.S.) Hey, there he is!! The press finds McQueen, swarms him. Mater is pushed backwards as the questions fly again. PRESS - McQueen, you had it in the bag! - Yeah, what happened? MCQUEEN I made a mistake. But I can assure you, it won't happen again. On Mater. He takes this badly. MCQUEEN Look, guys. We know what the problem is and we've taken care of it. SMASH TO: OVER FOOTAGE OF FRANCESCO and various other highlights: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER Lightning McQueen loses in the last lap to Francesco Bernoulli in the first race of the World Grand Prix and three, count em, three cars

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How many times the word 'button' appears in the text?

Finn. Meet HOLLEY SHIFTWELL. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. FINN That's because it's air-cooled. HOLLEY I'm Agent Shiftwell, Holley Shiftwell from the Tokyo Station. I have a message from London. FINN Not here. (LOUDLY) You must try the canapes on the mezzanine! He moves her onto an elevator. The doors close on them. IN THE ELEVATOR, GOING UP. FINN So the lab boys analyzed the photo I sent? What did they learn about the camera? HOLLEY It appears to be a standard television camera. They said if you could get closer photos next time, that would be great. FINN This was London's message? 27. HOLLEY Oh -- no, no. No sir. Um, the oil platforms you were on? Turns out they're sitting on the biggest oil reserve in the world. FINN How did we miss that? HOLLEY They'd been scrambling everyone's satellites. The Americans actually discovered it just before you did. They placed an agent on that platform, under deep cover. He was able to get a photo of the car who's running the entire operation. The doors OPEN and they exit onto the Mezzanine. FINN Who is it? Has anyone seen the photo yet? HOLLEY No, not yet. The American is here tonight to pass it to you. He'll signal you when he's ready. FINN GOOD --- Finn suddenly STOPS COLD. FINN Oh no. Professor Zundapp is visible below them. He talks with a few Pacers and Gremlins. Finn quickly retreats into the shadows. Holley follows suit. HOLLEY What is it? FINN Change of plan. You're meeting the American. HOLLEY What, me? 28. FINN Those thugs down there were on the oil platform. If they see me, the whole mission is compromised. HOLLEY No, no. I'm technical, you see. I'm in Diagnostics. I'm not a field agent. FINN You are now. CUT TO: MATER as he grabs a drink, keeps moving. MATER I'll take one of them. He snatches it, drops it in the back where we now see a large assortment of drinks balanced. MATER Never know which one McQueen'll have a hankering for. He approaches a sushi bar. MATER Hey, what you got here that's free? How about that pistachio ice cream? He refers to wasabi, of course. SUSHI CHEF No, no. Wasabi. MATER Oh, same ol', same ol'. What's up with you? That looks delicious. The chef starts to carve a small scoop aside for Mater. MATER Uh, a little more, please. It is free, right? (the chef adds more) Keep it coming. A little more. Come on, let's go, it's free! You're getting there... Scoop scoop! The chef gives in. Scoops a baseball-sized ball out. 29. MATER There you go. Now THAT's a scoop of ice cream. SUSHI CHEF (in Japanese, subtitles) My condolences. CUT BACK TO: MILES AXLEROD - He's now nearly done with his intros. MILES AXLEROD ... and now, our last competitor --- Number 95, Lightning McQueen! MCQUEEN approaches the microphone, flashes his headlights. MCQUEEN Thank you so much for having us, Sir Axlerod. I really look forward to racing. This is a great opportunity. MILES AXLEROD Oh, the pleasure is all ours, Lightning. You and your team bring excellence and professionalism to this competition. As if on cue, Mater arrives with a piercing scream of pain. Everyone turns as he charges head first toward the stage, making a bee-line for that FOUNTAIN. MATER Somebody get me water! He laps up water from the fountain like a diabetic cat. MATER (LAPPING WATER) Sweet relief... Miles Axlerod is shocked. The crowd can't believe it. Francesco cackles. Mater, now sated, approaches the mic. MATER (to the crowd) Whatever you do, do not eat the free pistachio ice cream. It has turned! MCQUEEN Sir Axlerod, I can explain. This is Mater. 30. MILES AXLEROD I know him. This is the bloke that called into the television show. (TO MATER) You're the one I have to thank. MATER No, thank you. This trip's been amazing. MILES AXLEROD (TO MCQUEEN) He's a little excited, isn't he? TILT DOWN to reveal a pool of oil beneath Mater. MCQUEEN Mater! MATER But wait, I... oh, shoot. McQueen quickly pulls Mater aside, out of earshot of Miles Axlerod and the others. McQueen is beside himself. MCQUEEN Mater, you have to get a hold of yourself. You're making a scene. MATER But I never leak oil. Never. MCQUEEN Go take care of yourself right now. Mater drives off. ON MATER - MOMENTS LATER He drives through the party, frantic. MATER Coming through! Excuse me, leakin' oil. Where's the bathroom? Thank you. I gotta go! Someone points Mater down a hallway. He whips around the CORNER --- --- and STOPS. Finds himself in front of TWO BATHROOM DOORS, neither of which clearly indicate MALE or FEMALE. 31. MATER (CONFUSED) What the... Mater chooses one, drives inside. A SHRIEK is heard and Mater zips out. MATER Sorry ladies! He heads into the other door --- CUT TO: INT. MEN'S ROOM - NIGHT Mater rolls in, still `holding it in' like a kid. MATER I never leak I never leak I never leak... He sees someone leaving a stall. He heads in. IN THE STALL - Mater enters, looks up. MATER Wowee... The stall is a complicated apparatus with buttons and lights. High-tech Japanese. It suddenly GRABS MATER, hoists him up as if he's going to get an oil change. MATER What in the--- A Japanese style cartoon CARICATURE appears on a TV MONITOR, followed by images of waterfalls and rivers. MATER (GIGGLING) Hey, that tickles. The caricature starts talking in Japanese. Suddenly WATER FIRES UP underneath Mater's undercarriage, goosing him. He freaks out. OUTSIDE THE STALL - With Mater's yells audible we see a GREMLIN enter, furtive. Suddenly, inexplicably, his frame BREAKS APART like an egg, revealing an AMERICAN MUSCLE CAR underneath. The pieces of the Gremlin disappear under him, clearly his disguise. This is ROD REDLINE - American Agent. 32. ROD REDLINE Okay, McMissile. I'm here. It's time for the drop. INT. PARTY - SAME HOLLEY, rolls along by herself. Nervous. DING! Her rearview monitor springs to life. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) The American has activated his tracking beacon. FINN (OVER RADIO) Roger that. Move in. INT. BATHROOM - SAME Rod Redline, waiting at a sink, feels a presence behind him. GREM and ACER have entered, hesitate briefly when they see Rod Redline. Rod Redline, careful, slides a gun out of his tire. He is suddenly CHARGED by the AMCs --- Rod SPINS AROUND and gets a shot off but is SLAMMED HEAD FIRST. A TIGHT, CLOSE-QUARTERS FIGHT begins --- IN THE STALL - Mater, still TRAPPED, is now being SCRUBBED as if in a car wash. He is helpless. OUTSIDE THE STALL - Rod is being pulverized. Just when he scrambles away from one car, the other one takes over. IN THE STALL - Mater is mercifully released, but when he backs out --- --- Rod Redline is THROWN INTO MATER'S STALL DOOR, crunching it and sending Mater --- --- BACK INTO THE CLUTCHES of the insane toilet. INT. PARTY - SAME Holley isolates the tracking beacon's location in the party. HOLLEY Oh, you've got to be joking. FINN What's the problem, Shiftwell? HOLLEY He's in the loo. 33. FINN So go in! HOLLEY I can't just go into the men's loo. FINN Time is of the essence, Shiftwell. INT. BATHROOM - OUTSIDE THE STALL Rod Redline is in bad shape. He backs away, betrays a look of concern. He's in trouble here. ACER burns rubber, ready to finish him off. Just as he shifts into DRIVE --- --- MATER'S STALL DOOR KICKS OPEN, knocking ACER out. Mater jumps out, face-to-face GREM. MATER (out of breath) Whatever you do, I would not go in there. The door SWINGS shut, revealing the pulverized Acer. MATER A Gremlin and a Pacer! Rod Redline, now behind Mater and sensing an opportunity here, quickly produces A SMALL DEVICE. MATER (to Grem and Acer) No offense to your makes and models, but you guys break down harder than my cousin Betsy after she got left at the --- Rod Redline, surreptitiously attaches the device to Mater's undercarriage. MATER (as he's goosed) --- altar! He spins around, sees Rod Redline for the first time. MATER Are you okay? ROD REDLINE I'm fine. 34. GREM Hey. Tow truck. Mater turns back to Grem and Acer. GREM We'd like to get to our private business here, if you don't mind. MATER Oh, yeah. Don't let me get in the way of your "private business." Oh! A little advice: When you hear her giggle and see that waterfall, you best press that green button. GREM Thank you. MATER It's to adjust the temperature. ACER Got it. MATER Remember it's in Celsius, not Fahrenheit. GREM AND ACER Get outta here! MATER Alright then. Mater exits, leaving Rod Redline to a now even angrier Grem and Acer. EXT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER Holley arrives at the door. She takes a breath, is about to enter when Mater EXITS. MATER Excuse me, ma'am. He passes her, expelling some exhaust in the process. Holley's rearview tracking confirms that the device is on him. MATER (TO HIMSELF) Dadgum pistachio ice cream. 35. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) This cannot be him. FINN (OVER RADIO) Is he American? MATER (driving off, to himself) Look out, ladies. Mater's fittin' to get funky! HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Extremely. FINN (OVER RADIO) Then it's him. It's settled. Holley takes one more nervous breath, quickly closes the distance between her and Mater, cuts him off. He is forced to STOP. HOLLEY Hello. MATER Well, hello. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. MATER Well of course it doesn't. That's `cause it's air-cooled! HOLLEY (RELIEVED) Perfect. I'm from the Tokyo Station OF THE--- MATER Course, Karmann Ghia's weren't the only ones. Besides the Beetles you had your Type-3 Squarebacks, with the pancake motors... HOLLEY Yeah. Okay, I get it--- MATER ... And before both of them, there's the Type-2 buses - my buddy Fillmore's one of them. 36. HOLLEY Listen! We should find somewhere more private. MATER Uh, gee. Don't you think that's a little, uh --- HOLLEY (NERVOUS ENERGY) You're right. Impossible to know which areas here are compromised. So, when can I see you again? MATER Well, let's see. Tomorrow I'll be out there at the races. HOLLEY Got it. We'll rendezvous then. INT. PARTY - MOMENTS LATER Mater returns to his team, lost in thought. MCQUEEN There you are. Where have you been? MATER What's a rendezvous? LUIGI It's like a date. MATER A date?! MCQUEEN Mater, what's going on? MATER Well, what's going on is I've got me a date tomorrow. Guido makes a crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido don't believe you. MATER Well, believe it. My new girlfriend just said so. Hey, there she is. Mater points out Holley, who's within earshot. 37. MATER (YELLING) Hey! Hey lady! Holley, caught in plain view, DRIVES OFF. MATER See ya tomorrow! Guido makes another crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido still don't believe you. EXT. SHIPYARD - THE DOCKS - TOKYO NIGHT An industrial dock, outside of the city proper. INT. SHIPYARD - NIGHT Rod Redline dangles from a car magnet. He's been beaten up, clings to consciousness. GREM (O.S.) I gotta admit --- Grem, Acer, and a bunch of nasty looking troublemakers look up at Rod amidst crates and shipping containers. GREM --- you tricked us real good. ACER And we don't like being tricked. Rod Redline laughs to himself. ACER Hey, what's so funny? ROD REDLINE Well, you know, I was just wearing a disguise. You guys are stuck looking like that. This doesn't help him. They DROP HIM onto a TREADMILL, lock him down. A container is wheeled forward and Rod is plied with Allinol brand gasoline. ROD REDLINE Allinol? Thanks, fellas. I hear this stuff is good for you. 38. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (O.S.) So you think. The Professor emerges from the darkness, behind Rod. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Allinol by itself is good for you. Zundapp hits a button and the TREADMILL starts Rod's wheels spinning at a high rate of speed. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP But after microscopic examination, I have found that it has one small weakness. When hit with an electromagnetic pulse, it becomes extremely dangerous. GREM SMILE --- Grem pushes a World Grand Prix CAMERA - the same one that was in the box back at the oil derrick. He points it at Rod Redline. GREM --- for the camera. ROD REDLINE Is that all you want? I got a whole act. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You were very interested in this camera on the oil platform. Now you will witness what it really does. ROD REDLINE Whatever you say, Professor. Acer pushes a TV MONITOR toward Rod. On it, surveillance footage from the party. Clearly, they were watching and recording him there. ACER You talked up a lot of cars last night. Which one's your associate? ROD REDLINE Your mother. Oh no, I'm sorry. It was your sister. You know, I can't tell them apart these days. 39. GREM (HAD ENOUGH) Could I start it now, Professor? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Fifty percent power. (to Rod Redline) This camera is actually an electromagnetic pulse emitter. ACER (re: a girl on the TV) What about her? Did you give it to her? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The Allinol is now heating to a boil, dramatically expanding, causing the engine block to crack under the stress, forcing oil into the combustion chamber. Rod Redline's engine starts to CRACK and BREAK. ACER (re: a guy on the TV) How about him? You talk to him? ROD REDLINE (to Professor Zundapp) What do I care? I can replace an engine block. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You may be able to, but after full impact of the pulse, unfortunately, there will be nothing to replace. ACER How about him? Does he have it? The monitor reveals MATER, rolling out of the bathroom and down the hall. Rod Redline, seeing this, does the world's most subtle double take. We caught it, but there's no way anyone else in the room could have --- PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP That's him. He's the one. GREM Roger that, Professor Z. 40. ROD REDLINE No! As Grem turns up the machine even MORE, the Professor makes a call. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (INTO PHONE) Yes sir. We believe the infiltrator has passed along sensitive information. (beat, listening) I will take care of it before any damage can be done. The Professor hangs up, turns to the room. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The project is still on schedule. You will find this second agent --- Zundapp kicks the camera's power into the RED. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP --- and kill him. On the MONITOR - With Mater's frozen image on the screen we see Rod EXPLODE in the reflection. EXT. JAPAN - DAY Over television pre-roll of Japan: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Japan. Land of the rising sun. Where ancient tradition meets modern technology. Welcome to the inaugural running of the World Grand Prix. ON OUR ANNOUNCERS as they introduce themselves: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER I'm Brent Mustangburger, here with racing legends Darrell Cartrip and David Hobbscap. There's never been a competition like this before. SHOTS OF THE PITS as the racers fuel up. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) First, Allinol, making its debut tonight as the required fuel for all these great champions. (MORE) 41. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) (CONT'D) Second, the course itself, and it's like nothing we've ever seen. David, how exactly does this competition work? DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Well, Brent, all three of these street courses are classic round- the-house racetracks. OUTLINES OF THREE RACE COURSES are shown. They're labeled Japan, Italy and England, and are different in shape and size. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) This means that the LMP and Formula cars should break out of the gate in spectacular fashion. SHOTS OF THE RACERS as they weave up the track, practicing. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Look for Francesco Bernoulli in particular to lead early. SHOTS OF Francesco, featured in an inset. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) And with a series of technical turns throughout --- MORE SHOTS of the course, now highlighting the tech turns. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) GT and Touring cars like Spain's Miguel Camino should make up some ground but I doubt it'll be enough to stop Francesco from absolutely running away with it. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Woah, now just hold your horsepower. You're forgetting the most important factor here. That early dirt track section of the course! The dirt is supposed to be the great equalizer in this race. GRAPHICS OF THE COURSES now isolate a stretch after the first couple turns, label it "DIRT SECTIONS." 42. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) French Rally car Raoul aRoule is counting on a big boost headed through there. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) And don't forget Lightning McQueen! His mentor, the Hudson Hornet, was one of the greatest dirt track racers of all time. In my opinion, McQueen is the best all-around racer in this competition. BACK IN THE STUDIO DAVID HOBBSCAP Really, Darrell, I think you need to clean your windshield. You're clearly not seeing this for what it is: Francesco's race to lose. EXT. STARTING LINE - DAY BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) It's time to find out. The racers are locking into the grid --- Engines rev as everyone gets ready to go. Everyone's bright eyed and alert except for McQueen who we find in the back of the grid. He CLOSES his eyes. MCQUEEN (TO HIMSELF) Speed. I am speed. A LAUGH O.S. McQueen opens his eyes. Francesco is next to him on the grid. FRANCESCO Really? You are "speed"? Then Francesco is triple speed. (closes his eyes) Francesco. Is. Triple speed. Francesco likes this, McQueen. It's really getting him into the zone! MCQUEEN He is so getting beat today. The starting lights click down from RED to YELLOW to GREEN. The race begins. Francesco quickly grabs the lead. He's pulling away within seconds. 43. ON PIT ROW - We TRACK PAST as the various Crew Chiefs on their crash carts bark orders to their racers. We end on Team McQueen. No Crew Chief, just a solid looking team. SARGE His suspension stats look good. LUIGI Tire pressure is excellent. FILLMORE He's got plenty of fuel. MATER And he's awesome! CUT TO: The same view of Mater but now THROUGH A TELESCOPIC DISPLAY. Reveal Finn and Holley watching from high above in a downtown office building, behind reflective glass. HOLLEY Why is he in the pits? He's so exposed. FINN It's his cover. One of the best I've seen, too. Look at the detail on that rust. It must have cost him a fortune. HOLLEY But why hasn't he contacted us yet? FINN There's probably heat on him. Be patient. HOLLEY Right, of course. He'll signal us when he can. FINN And then we find out who's behind all this. ON THE TRACK - VARIOUS SHOTS OF THE RACE through Tokyo as Francesco extends his lead and McQueen attempts to make up ground. 44. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - Mater watches the monitors, sees them approaching the dirt section. MATER McQueen! It's time to make your move. Get on the outside and show 'em what Doc done taught you. MCQUEEN (OVER RADIO) Ten four, Mater. ON THE TRACK - Francesco hits the dirt section and loses all control. He SLAMS to a halt, his tires getting no traction. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Francesco is brought to a screeching halt! MCQUEEN skids into view, turning right to go left, passing Francesco, followed by other cars --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Lightning McQueen is the first to take advantage. And just like that, folks, Francesco's lead is left in the dust. MCQUEEN Nice call, Mater. Keep it up! McQueen now leads the pack, zooming out of the dirt now starting to relax. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Who-hoo! Man, McQueen looks happier than a rollbar at a demolition derby! ON PAVED ROAD AGAIN - MOMENTS LATER The field of cars thunders into a tunnel. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Everyone's jostling for position as we hit the asphalt again. Francesco crests the hill, in last place. He bites down, determined, then CHASES. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco lost a lot of momentum in the dirt. He's got some serious work ahead of him if he wants to get back in this race. 45. VARIOUS SHOTS OF TOKYO as the racers move through the Rainbow Bridge. Bit by bit, Francesco ekes his way toward the front, toward Lightning McQueen as we CUT TO --- --- A ROOFTOP, and a VIEW THROUGH THE WGP CAMERA LENS. Grem and Acer are manning this one. They focus it on the racers as they approach. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (OVER RADIO) It is time. GREM Roger that. ON THE TRACK - A racer (Miguel Camino) suddenly PLUMES WITH SMOKE and skids out. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Oh! Miguel Camino has blown an engine! BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Very unusual, Darrell. He's been so consistent all year. Camino quickly pits, passing McQueen's pit where Mater is visible. ON GREM AND ACER, watching from above. GREM You gotta be kidding me. ACER What is it? GREM It's that tow truck from the bathroom. ACER The one from the bathroom? GREM Yeah, the one the American Agent passed the device to. ACER What about him? GREM What about him? He's in the pits! 46. ACER Not for long. Acer exits, with purpose. ON FINN AND HOLLEY, still in their office hideaway. Holley's onboard computer flashes an ALERT. HOLLEY Hold on. I think I've got something. FINN What is it? HOLLEY The Pacer from the party last night. She's spotted Acer, moving swiftly forward. HOLLEY Cross-referencing with the photos from the oil derricks... Yep. His VIN numbers match. FINN Anyone with him? He won't be alone. HOLLEY Conducting analysis on the target. The computer finds more and more bad guy Pacers and Gremlins are in the crowd. HOLLEY He's not the only one here. Three... five... they're everywhere. And they're all closing in on... oh no. We PAN OVER to see it's MATER. HOLLEY Finn? Finn, where are you? She turns. He's GONE, leaving only an open window. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of the pits now! IN MCQUEEN'S PIT. A car WHIPS BY O.S. 47. MATER Wow! Some of them fellers is really loud. HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Can you hear me? Over. MATER Uh, what? HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Get out of the pit now. Do you hear me? Mater realizes this girl has somehow broken into his radio. MATER (INTO RADIO) Hey, I know you. You're that girl from the party last night. You wanna do our date right now? ON THE TRACK - McQueen boxes out Francesco, holds his slim lead, but barely. MCQUEEN Guys, a little too much chatter. Let's keep this line clear. BOOM! A racer behind McQueen suddenly expels black smoke, skids out of control. ON GREM - laughing. That was clearly his handiwork. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - SAME HOLLEY (ON MATER'S RADIO) There's no time for messing about. You've got to get out of the pits. MATER Is there gonna be cable where you is so I can watch the rest of the race? ON HOLLEY - Watching from the downtown building. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) You're running out of time! FINN (OVER RADIO) They're coming, Shiftwell. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Yes, I know. 48. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of there. HOLLEY (TO FINN) I'm trying. (TO MATER) Get out now! We CUT BACK TO --- --- MATER. He gives in, exits the pit. MATER Well, all right but I usually like to have a proper detailing done before I meet a lady friend. He moves toward the back PIT DOOR, is about to open it. OUTSIDE THE PITS - ACER and another Pacer approach McQueen's pit door on the other side. Ready to pounce. The doors OPEN, REVEALING --- --- Finn, holding a fire extinguisher. ACER Finn McMissile? But you're dead! FINN Then this shouldn't hurt at all. He empties the extinguisher in their eyes, speeds past. They try and follow, but have been blinded. One of them crashes right into a COP. ON FINN - Already on the move, along a side street. FINN Miss Shiftwell? ON HOLLEY - Tracking everything on a grid map. Mater looks like Pac Man, weaving through the streets as bad guys close in all around him. HOLLEY I've got him in the back alleys east of the garages. Multiple assailants are closing in quickly. FINN (OVER RADIO) Keep him moving. I'm on my way. ON MATER - He turns a corner, sees a flower shop. 49. MATER Hey, new lady friend? You like flowers? ON THE TRACK - McQueen, hearing this, is taken aback. MCQUEEN What? ON MATER - Slowing at the flower shop. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go 'in' anywhere. Just keep moving. MATER Stay outside. Gotcha. ON THE TRACK MCQUEEN Outside? McQueen drifts outside allowing Francesco to slip past! FRANCESCO Grazie and arrivaderci! DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) I cannot believe what I just saw, Brent. That was a bonehead move. You don't open up the inside like that! IN THE BACK ALLEYS - As Mater moves on he's followed by Pacers and Gremlins. Suddenly --- --- CABLES whip in front of them, pulling over flower vending machines and sending the shop's owners into a frenzy. They direct their attention to the AMCs, who try and explain. ON FINN, admiring his handiwork as he appears. Just as he turns to leave he's BROADSIDED and pushed INTO A DARK ALLEY. IN THE ALLEY - Finn finds himself boxed by two Pacers and pushed toward --- --- ACER, who now holds a FLAME THROWER. ACER This time I'm gonna make sure you stay dead. He hits the flame. WHOOOSSSH!! 50. ON ANOTHER STREET - Mater clicks along, still looking for Holley. Just as he passes the alley entrance where Finn stares down death: HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) You're doing brilliantly. Now just stay focused. MATER What's that? You want me to head toward that ruckus? Mater turns INTO the alley. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go down that street! IN THE ALLEY - Finn, now nearly pushed completely into the flame thrower, leaps into the air. He FIGHTS BACK, using his wheels, axle, indeed his entire car frame as if he were human, kicking and tossing and shooting his enemies. Mater witnesses the whole thing. MATER Wow! A live karate demonstration! ON THE TRACK - McQueen, now playing catch-up again, scowls. MCQUEEN Stop it, Mater. Just sign off. IN THE BACK ALLEY - Finn polishes off the AMCs by firing a bullet into a gas main line, causing an EXPLOSION that tosses Acer through the air where he lands in a NOODLE SHOP'S SIGN. ON THE TRACK - The end of the race is nigh --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) They're bumper to bumper as they approach the finish line! The Formula car gets there first. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco's the winner, McQueen's number two! IN THE ALLEY - Finn heaves breaths, surveys his damage. MATER That was cool! Hey, can I get your autograph? 51. Mater approaches when a MASS OF RACE FANS burst out a door, momentarily blocking Mater's view of Finn. Once the fans have past, Finn has disappeared. MATER Hey, where'd he go? HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) Our rendezvous has been jeopardized. Keep the device safe. We'll be in touch. MATER Dadgum, did I miss our date? EXT. PRESS STAGE - LATER Post race press conference. Francesco is center stage. DARRELL CARTRIP Francesco, over here! Hey, what was your strategy today? FRANCESCO Strategia? Francesco needs no strategy, it's very simple. You start the race, wait for Lightning McQueen to choke, pass him, then win. Francesco always wins. It's boring. McQueen, waiting in the wings, rolls his eyes. He suddenly notices something O.S. McQueen's P.O.V. - It's MATER, appearing from a side street, moving toward the pits, oblivious of the press conference. DARRELL CARTRIP (TO FRANCESCO) I gotta tell you, dude. You were in trouble for awhile. That dirt track section had you crawling! As McQueen SNEAKS AWAY --- FRANCESCO To truly crush one's dream, you must first raise their hopes very high. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT GARAGE - Mater looks around for everyone as McQueen approaches. 52. MCQUEEN Mater. MATER Hey McQueen! What happened? Is the race over? You won, right? MCQUEEN Mater, why were you yelling things at me while I was racing? MATER Yelling? Oh, you thought... that's funny right there. Nah, see that's `cause I seen these two fellers doing some sort of karate street performance. It was nutso. One of them even had a flamethrower --- MCQUEEN A flamethrower? What are you talking about? I don't understand. Where were you? MATER Going to meet my date. MCQUEEN Your date? MATER She started talking to me as a voice in my head, telling me where to go --- MCQUEEN What? MATER Wait a minute -- I didn't screw you up, did I? MCQUEEN I lost the race because of you! MATER Well, I'm sorry. I didn't mean --- MCQUEEN An imaginary girlfriend, flamethrowers. This is exactly why I don't bring you along to these things. 53. MATER Maybe if I, I don't know, talked to somebody and explained what happened I could help. MCQUEEN I don't need your help. I don't want your help. PRESS (O.S.) Hey, there he is!! The press finds McQueen, swarms him. Mater is pushed backwards as the questions fly again. PRESS - McQueen, you had it in the bag! - Yeah, what happened? MCQUEEN I made a mistake. But I can assure you, it won't happen again. On Mater. He takes this badly. MCQUEEN Look, guys. We know what the problem is and we've taken care of it. SMASH TO: OVER FOOTAGE OF FRANCESCO and various other highlights: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER Lightning McQueen loses in the last lap to Francesco Bernoulli in the first race of the World Grand Prix and three, count em, three cars

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How many times the word 'face' appears in the text?

Finn. Meet HOLLEY SHIFTWELL. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. FINN That's because it's air-cooled. HOLLEY I'm Agent Shiftwell, Holley Shiftwell from the Tokyo Station. I have a message from London. FINN Not here. (LOUDLY) You must try the canapes on the mezzanine! He moves her onto an elevator. The doors close on them. IN THE ELEVATOR, GOING UP. FINN So the lab boys analyzed the photo I sent? What did they learn about the camera? HOLLEY It appears to be a standard television camera. They said if you could get closer photos next time, that would be great. FINN This was London's message? 27. HOLLEY Oh -- no, no. No sir. Um, the oil platforms you were on? Turns out they're sitting on the biggest oil reserve in the world. FINN How did we miss that? HOLLEY They'd been scrambling everyone's satellites. The Americans actually discovered it just before you did. They placed an agent on that platform, under deep cover. He was able to get a photo of the car who's running the entire operation. The doors OPEN and they exit onto the Mezzanine. FINN Who is it? Has anyone seen the photo yet? HOLLEY No, not yet. The American is here tonight to pass it to you. He'll signal you when he's ready. FINN GOOD --- Finn suddenly STOPS COLD. FINN Oh no. Professor Zundapp is visible below them. He talks with a few Pacers and Gremlins. Finn quickly retreats into the shadows. Holley follows suit. HOLLEY What is it? FINN Change of plan. You're meeting the American. HOLLEY What, me? 28. FINN Those thugs down there were on the oil platform. If they see me, the whole mission is compromised. HOLLEY No, no. I'm technical, you see. I'm in Diagnostics. I'm not a field agent. FINN You are now. CUT TO: MATER as he grabs a drink, keeps moving. MATER I'll take one of them. He snatches it, drops it in the back where we now see a large assortment of drinks balanced. MATER Never know which one McQueen'll have a hankering for. He approaches a sushi bar. MATER Hey, what you got here that's free? How about that pistachio ice cream? He refers to wasabi, of course. SUSHI CHEF No, no. Wasabi. MATER Oh, same ol', same ol'. What's up with you? That looks delicious. The chef starts to carve a small scoop aside for Mater. MATER Uh, a little more, please. It is free, right? (the chef adds more) Keep it coming. A little more. Come on, let's go, it's free! You're getting there... Scoop scoop! The chef gives in. Scoops a baseball-sized ball out. 29. MATER There you go. Now THAT's a scoop of ice cream. SUSHI CHEF (in Japanese, subtitles) My condolences. CUT BACK TO: MILES AXLEROD - He's now nearly done with his intros. MILES AXLEROD ... and now, our last competitor --- Number 95, Lightning McQueen! MCQUEEN approaches the microphone, flashes his headlights. MCQUEEN Thank you so much for having us, Sir Axlerod. I really look forward to racing. This is a great opportunity. MILES AXLEROD Oh, the pleasure is all ours, Lightning. You and your team bring excellence and professionalism to this competition. As if on cue, Mater arrives with a piercing scream of pain. Everyone turns as he charges head first toward the stage, making a bee-line for that FOUNTAIN. MATER Somebody get me water! He laps up water from the fountain like a diabetic cat. MATER (LAPPING WATER) Sweet relief... Miles Axlerod is shocked. The crowd can't believe it. Francesco cackles. Mater, now sated, approaches the mic. MATER (to the crowd) Whatever you do, do not eat the free pistachio ice cream. It has turned! MCQUEEN Sir Axlerod, I can explain. This is Mater. 30. MILES AXLEROD I know him. This is the bloke that called into the television show. (TO MATER) You're the one I have to thank. MATER No, thank you. This trip's been amazing. MILES AXLEROD (TO MCQUEEN) He's a little excited, isn't he? TILT DOWN to reveal a pool of oil beneath Mater. MCQUEEN Mater! MATER But wait, I... oh, shoot. McQueen quickly pulls Mater aside, out of earshot of Miles Axlerod and the others. McQueen is beside himself. MCQUEEN Mater, you have to get a hold of yourself. You're making a scene. MATER But I never leak oil. Never. MCQUEEN Go take care of yourself right now. Mater drives off. ON MATER - MOMENTS LATER He drives through the party, frantic. MATER Coming through! Excuse me, leakin' oil. Where's the bathroom? Thank you. I gotta go! Someone points Mater down a hallway. He whips around the CORNER --- --- and STOPS. Finds himself in front of TWO BATHROOM DOORS, neither of which clearly indicate MALE or FEMALE. 31. MATER (CONFUSED) What the... Mater chooses one, drives inside. A SHRIEK is heard and Mater zips out. MATER Sorry ladies! He heads into the other door --- CUT TO: INT. MEN'S ROOM - NIGHT Mater rolls in, still `holding it in' like a kid. MATER I never leak I never leak I never leak... He sees someone leaving a stall. He heads in. IN THE STALL - Mater enters, looks up. MATER Wowee... The stall is a complicated apparatus with buttons and lights. High-tech Japanese. It suddenly GRABS MATER, hoists him up as if he's going to get an oil change. MATER What in the--- A Japanese style cartoon CARICATURE appears on a TV MONITOR, followed by images of waterfalls and rivers. MATER (GIGGLING) Hey, that tickles. The caricature starts talking in Japanese. Suddenly WATER FIRES UP underneath Mater's undercarriage, goosing him. He freaks out. OUTSIDE THE STALL - With Mater's yells audible we see a GREMLIN enter, furtive. Suddenly, inexplicably, his frame BREAKS APART like an egg, revealing an AMERICAN MUSCLE CAR underneath. The pieces of the Gremlin disappear under him, clearly his disguise. This is ROD REDLINE - American Agent. 32. ROD REDLINE Okay, McMissile. I'm here. It's time for the drop. INT. PARTY - SAME HOLLEY, rolls along by herself. Nervous. DING! Her rearview monitor springs to life. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) The American has activated his tracking beacon. FINN (OVER RADIO) Roger that. Move in. INT. BATHROOM - SAME Rod Redline, waiting at a sink, feels a presence behind him. GREM and ACER have entered, hesitate briefly when they see Rod Redline. Rod Redline, careful, slides a gun out of his tire. He is suddenly CHARGED by the AMCs --- Rod SPINS AROUND and gets a shot off but is SLAMMED HEAD FIRST. A TIGHT, CLOSE-QUARTERS FIGHT begins --- IN THE STALL - Mater, still TRAPPED, is now being SCRUBBED as if in a car wash. He is helpless. OUTSIDE THE STALL - Rod is being pulverized. Just when he scrambles away from one car, the other one takes over. IN THE STALL - Mater is mercifully released, but when he backs out --- --- Rod Redline is THROWN INTO MATER'S STALL DOOR, crunching it and sending Mater --- --- BACK INTO THE CLUTCHES of the insane toilet. INT. PARTY - SAME Holley isolates the tracking beacon's location in the party. HOLLEY Oh, you've got to be joking. FINN What's the problem, Shiftwell? HOLLEY He's in the loo. 33. FINN So go in! HOLLEY I can't just go into the men's loo. FINN Time is of the essence, Shiftwell. INT. BATHROOM - OUTSIDE THE STALL Rod Redline is in bad shape. He backs away, betrays a look of concern. He's in trouble here. ACER burns rubber, ready to finish him off. Just as he shifts into DRIVE --- --- MATER'S STALL DOOR KICKS OPEN, knocking ACER out. Mater jumps out, face-to-face GREM. MATER (out of breath) Whatever you do, I would not go in there. The door SWINGS shut, revealing the pulverized Acer. MATER A Gremlin and a Pacer! Rod Redline, now behind Mater and sensing an opportunity here, quickly produces A SMALL DEVICE. MATER (to Grem and Acer) No offense to your makes and models, but you guys break down harder than my cousin Betsy after she got left at the --- Rod Redline, surreptitiously attaches the device to Mater's undercarriage. MATER (as he's goosed) --- altar! He spins around, sees Rod Redline for the first time. MATER Are you okay? ROD REDLINE I'm fine. 34. GREM Hey. Tow truck. Mater turns back to Grem and Acer. GREM We'd like to get to our private business here, if you don't mind. MATER Oh, yeah. Don't let me get in the way of your "private business." Oh! A little advice: When you hear her giggle and see that waterfall, you best press that green button. GREM Thank you. MATER It's to adjust the temperature. ACER Got it. MATER Remember it's in Celsius, not Fahrenheit. GREM AND ACER Get outta here! MATER Alright then. Mater exits, leaving Rod Redline to a now even angrier Grem and Acer. EXT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER Holley arrives at the door. She takes a breath, is about to enter when Mater EXITS. MATER Excuse me, ma'am. He passes her, expelling some exhaust in the process. Holley's rearview tracking confirms that the device is on him. MATER (TO HIMSELF) Dadgum pistachio ice cream. 35. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) This cannot be him. FINN (OVER RADIO) Is he American? MATER (driving off, to himself) Look out, ladies. Mater's fittin' to get funky! HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Extremely. FINN (OVER RADIO) Then it's him. It's settled. Holley takes one more nervous breath, quickly closes the distance between her and Mater, cuts him off. He is forced to STOP. HOLLEY Hello. MATER Well, hello. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. MATER Well of course it doesn't. That's `cause it's air-cooled! HOLLEY (RELIEVED) Perfect. I'm from the Tokyo Station OF THE--- MATER Course, Karmann Ghia's weren't the only ones. Besides the Beetles you had your Type-3 Squarebacks, with the pancake motors... HOLLEY Yeah. Okay, I get it--- MATER ... And before both of them, there's the Type-2 buses - my buddy Fillmore's one of them. 36. HOLLEY Listen! We should find somewhere more private. MATER Uh, gee. Don't you think that's a little, uh --- HOLLEY (NERVOUS ENERGY) You're right. Impossible to know which areas here are compromised. So, when can I see you again? MATER Well, let's see. Tomorrow I'll be out there at the races. HOLLEY Got it. We'll rendezvous then. INT. PARTY - MOMENTS LATER Mater returns to his team, lost in thought. MCQUEEN There you are. Where have you been? MATER What's a rendezvous? LUIGI It's like a date. MATER A date?! MCQUEEN Mater, what's going on? MATER Well, what's going on is I've got me a date tomorrow. Guido makes a crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido don't believe you. MATER Well, believe it. My new girlfriend just said so. Hey, there she is. Mater points out Holley, who's within earshot. 37. MATER (YELLING) Hey! Hey lady! Holley, caught in plain view, DRIVES OFF. MATER See ya tomorrow! Guido makes another crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido still don't believe you. EXT. SHIPYARD - THE DOCKS - TOKYO NIGHT An industrial dock, outside of the city proper. INT. SHIPYARD - NIGHT Rod Redline dangles from a car magnet. He's been beaten up, clings to consciousness. GREM (O.S.) I gotta admit --- Grem, Acer, and a bunch of nasty looking troublemakers look up at Rod amidst crates and shipping containers. GREM --- you tricked us real good. ACER And we don't like being tricked. Rod Redline laughs to himself. ACER Hey, what's so funny? ROD REDLINE Well, you know, I was just wearing a disguise. You guys are stuck looking like that. This doesn't help him. They DROP HIM onto a TREADMILL, lock him down. A container is wheeled forward and Rod is plied with Allinol brand gasoline. ROD REDLINE Allinol? Thanks, fellas. I hear this stuff is good for you. 38. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (O.S.) So you think. The Professor emerges from the darkness, behind Rod. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Allinol by itself is good for you. Zundapp hits a button and the TREADMILL starts Rod's wheels spinning at a high rate of speed. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP But after microscopic examination, I have found that it has one small weakness. When hit with an electromagnetic pulse, it becomes extremely dangerous. GREM SMILE --- Grem pushes a World Grand Prix CAMERA - the same one that was in the box back at the oil derrick. He points it at Rod Redline. GREM --- for the camera. ROD REDLINE Is that all you want? I got a whole act. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You were very interested in this camera on the oil platform. Now you will witness what it really does. ROD REDLINE Whatever you say, Professor. Acer pushes a TV MONITOR toward Rod. On it, surveillance footage from the party. Clearly, they were watching and recording him there. ACER You talked up a lot of cars last night. Which one's your associate? ROD REDLINE Your mother. Oh no, I'm sorry. It was your sister. You know, I can't tell them apart these days. 39. GREM (HAD ENOUGH) Could I start it now, Professor? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Fifty percent power. (to Rod Redline) This camera is actually an electromagnetic pulse emitter. ACER (re: a girl on the TV) What about her? Did you give it to her? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The Allinol is now heating to a boil, dramatically expanding, causing the engine block to crack under the stress, forcing oil into the combustion chamber. Rod Redline's engine starts to CRACK and BREAK. ACER (re: a guy on the TV) How about him? You talk to him? ROD REDLINE (to Professor Zundapp) What do I care? I can replace an engine block. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You may be able to, but after full impact of the pulse, unfortunately, there will be nothing to replace. ACER How about him? Does he have it? The monitor reveals MATER, rolling out of the bathroom and down the hall. Rod Redline, seeing this, does the world's most subtle double take. We caught it, but there's no way anyone else in the room could have --- PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP That's him. He's the one. GREM Roger that, Professor Z. 40. ROD REDLINE No! As Grem turns up the machine even MORE, the Professor makes a call. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (INTO PHONE) Yes sir. We believe the infiltrator has passed along sensitive information. (beat, listening) I will take care of it before any damage can be done. The Professor hangs up, turns to the room. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The project is still on schedule. You will find this second agent --- Zundapp kicks the camera's power into the RED. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP --- and kill him. On the MONITOR - With Mater's frozen image on the screen we see Rod EXPLODE in the reflection. EXT. JAPAN - DAY Over television pre-roll of Japan: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Japan. Land of the rising sun. Where ancient tradition meets modern technology. Welcome to the inaugural running of the World Grand Prix. ON OUR ANNOUNCERS as they introduce themselves: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER I'm Brent Mustangburger, here with racing legends Darrell Cartrip and David Hobbscap. There's never been a competition like this before. SHOTS OF THE PITS as the racers fuel up. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) First, Allinol, making its debut tonight as the required fuel for all these great champions. (MORE) 41. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) (CONT'D) Second, the course itself, and it's like nothing we've ever seen. David, how exactly does this competition work? DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Well, Brent, all three of these street courses are classic round- the-house racetracks. OUTLINES OF THREE RACE COURSES are shown. They're labeled Japan, Italy and England, and are different in shape and size. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) This means that the LMP and Formula cars should break out of the gate in spectacular fashion. SHOTS OF THE RACERS as they weave up the track, practicing. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Look for Francesco Bernoulli in particular to lead early. SHOTS OF Francesco, featured in an inset. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) And with a series of technical turns throughout --- MORE SHOTS of the course, now highlighting the tech turns. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) GT and Touring cars like Spain's Miguel Camino should make up some ground but I doubt it'll be enough to stop Francesco from absolutely running away with it. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Woah, now just hold your horsepower. You're forgetting the most important factor here. That early dirt track section of the course! The dirt is supposed to be the great equalizer in this race. GRAPHICS OF THE COURSES now isolate a stretch after the first couple turns, label it "DIRT SECTIONS." 42. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) French Rally car Raoul aRoule is counting on a big boost headed through there. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) And don't forget Lightning McQueen! His mentor, the Hudson Hornet, was one of the greatest dirt track racers of all time. In my opinion, McQueen is the best all-around racer in this competition. BACK IN THE STUDIO DAVID HOBBSCAP Really, Darrell, I think you need to clean your windshield. You're clearly not seeing this for what it is: Francesco's race to lose. EXT. STARTING LINE - DAY BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) It's time to find out. The racers are locking into the grid --- Engines rev as everyone gets ready to go. Everyone's bright eyed and alert except for McQueen who we find in the back of the grid. He CLOSES his eyes. MCQUEEN (TO HIMSELF) Speed. I am speed. A LAUGH O.S. McQueen opens his eyes. Francesco is next to him on the grid. FRANCESCO Really? You are "speed"? Then Francesco is triple speed. (closes his eyes) Francesco. Is. Triple speed. Francesco likes this, McQueen. It's really getting him into the zone! MCQUEEN He is so getting beat today. The starting lights click down from RED to YELLOW to GREEN. The race begins. Francesco quickly grabs the lead. He's pulling away within seconds. 43. ON PIT ROW - We TRACK PAST as the various Crew Chiefs on their crash carts bark orders to their racers. We end on Team McQueen. No Crew Chief, just a solid looking team. SARGE His suspension stats look good. LUIGI Tire pressure is excellent. FILLMORE He's got plenty of fuel. MATER And he's awesome! CUT TO: The same view of Mater but now THROUGH A TELESCOPIC DISPLAY. Reveal Finn and Holley watching from high above in a downtown office building, behind reflective glass. HOLLEY Why is he in the pits? He's so exposed. FINN It's his cover. One of the best I've seen, too. Look at the detail on that rust. It must have cost him a fortune. HOLLEY But why hasn't he contacted us yet? FINN There's probably heat on him. Be patient. HOLLEY Right, of course. He'll signal us when he can. FINN And then we find out who's behind all this. ON THE TRACK - VARIOUS SHOTS OF THE RACE through Tokyo as Francesco extends his lead and McQueen attempts to make up ground. 44. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - Mater watches the monitors, sees them approaching the dirt section. MATER McQueen! It's time to make your move. Get on the outside and show 'em what Doc done taught you. MCQUEEN (OVER RADIO) Ten four, Mater. ON THE TRACK - Francesco hits the dirt section and loses all control. He SLAMS to a halt, his tires getting no traction. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Francesco is brought to a screeching halt! MCQUEEN skids into view, turning right to go left, passing Francesco, followed by other cars --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Lightning McQueen is the first to take advantage. And just like that, folks, Francesco's lead is left in the dust. MCQUEEN Nice call, Mater. Keep it up! McQueen now leads the pack, zooming out of the dirt now starting to relax. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Who-hoo! Man, McQueen looks happier than a rollbar at a demolition derby! ON PAVED ROAD AGAIN - MOMENTS LATER The field of cars thunders into a tunnel. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Everyone's jostling for position as we hit the asphalt again. Francesco crests the hill, in last place. He bites down, determined, then CHASES. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco lost a lot of momentum in the dirt. He's got some serious work ahead of him if he wants to get back in this race. 45. VARIOUS SHOTS OF TOKYO as the racers move through the Rainbow Bridge. Bit by bit, Francesco ekes his way toward the front, toward Lightning McQueen as we CUT TO --- --- A ROOFTOP, and a VIEW THROUGH THE WGP CAMERA LENS. Grem and Acer are manning this one. They focus it on the racers as they approach. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (OVER RADIO) It is time. GREM Roger that. ON THE TRACK - A racer (Miguel Camino) suddenly PLUMES WITH SMOKE and skids out. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Oh! Miguel Camino has blown an engine! BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Very unusual, Darrell. He's been so consistent all year. Camino quickly pits, passing McQueen's pit where Mater is visible. ON GREM AND ACER, watching from above. GREM You gotta be kidding me. ACER What is it? GREM It's that tow truck from the bathroom. ACER The one from the bathroom? GREM Yeah, the one the American Agent passed the device to. ACER What about him? GREM What about him? He's in the pits! 46. ACER Not for long. Acer exits, with purpose. ON FINN AND HOLLEY, still in their office hideaway. Holley's onboard computer flashes an ALERT. HOLLEY Hold on. I think I've got something. FINN What is it? HOLLEY The Pacer from the party last night. She's spotted Acer, moving swiftly forward. HOLLEY Cross-referencing with the photos from the oil derricks... Yep. His VIN numbers match. FINN Anyone with him? He won't be alone. HOLLEY Conducting analysis on the target. The computer finds more and more bad guy Pacers and Gremlins are in the crowd. HOLLEY He's not the only one here. Three... five... they're everywhere. And they're all closing in on... oh no. We PAN OVER to see it's MATER. HOLLEY Finn? Finn, where are you? She turns. He's GONE, leaving only an open window. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of the pits now! IN MCQUEEN'S PIT. A car WHIPS BY O.S. 47. MATER Wow! Some of them fellers is really loud. HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Can you hear me? Over. MATER Uh, what? HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Get out of the pit now. Do you hear me? Mater realizes this girl has somehow broken into his radio. MATER (INTO RADIO) Hey, I know you. You're that girl from the party last night. You wanna do our date right now? ON THE TRACK - McQueen boxes out Francesco, holds his slim lead, but barely. MCQUEEN Guys, a little too much chatter. Let's keep this line clear. BOOM! A racer behind McQueen suddenly expels black smoke, skids out of control. ON GREM - laughing. That was clearly his handiwork. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - SAME HOLLEY (ON MATER'S RADIO) There's no time for messing about. You've got to get out of the pits. MATER Is there gonna be cable where you is so I can watch the rest of the race? ON HOLLEY - Watching from the downtown building. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) You're running out of time! FINN (OVER RADIO) They're coming, Shiftwell. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Yes, I know. 48. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of there. HOLLEY (TO FINN) I'm trying. (TO MATER) Get out now! We CUT BACK TO --- --- MATER. He gives in, exits the pit. MATER Well, all right but I usually like to have a proper detailing done before I meet a lady friend. He moves toward the back PIT DOOR, is about to open it. OUTSIDE THE PITS - ACER and another Pacer approach McQueen's pit door on the other side. Ready to pounce. The doors OPEN, REVEALING --- --- Finn, holding a fire extinguisher. ACER Finn McMissile? But you're dead! FINN Then this shouldn't hurt at all. He empties the extinguisher in their eyes, speeds past. They try and follow, but have been blinded. One of them crashes right into a COP. ON FINN - Already on the move, along a side street. FINN Miss Shiftwell? ON HOLLEY - Tracking everything on a grid map. Mater looks like Pac Man, weaving through the streets as bad guys close in all around him. HOLLEY I've got him in the back alleys east of the garages. Multiple assailants are closing in quickly. FINN (OVER RADIO) Keep him moving. I'm on my way. ON MATER - He turns a corner, sees a flower shop. 49. MATER Hey, new lady friend? You like flowers? ON THE TRACK - McQueen, hearing this, is taken aback. MCQUEEN What? ON MATER - Slowing at the flower shop. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go 'in' anywhere. Just keep moving. MATER Stay outside. Gotcha. ON THE TRACK MCQUEEN Outside? McQueen drifts outside allowing Francesco to slip past! FRANCESCO Grazie and arrivaderci! DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) I cannot believe what I just saw, Brent. That was a bonehead move. You don't open up the inside like that! IN THE BACK ALLEYS - As Mater moves on he's followed by Pacers and Gremlins. Suddenly --- --- CABLES whip in front of them, pulling over flower vending machines and sending the shop's owners into a frenzy. They direct their attention to the AMCs, who try and explain. ON FINN, admiring his handiwork as he appears. Just as he turns to leave he's BROADSIDED and pushed INTO A DARK ALLEY. IN THE ALLEY - Finn finds himself boxed by two Pacers and pushed toward --- --- ACER, who now holds a FLAME THROWER. ACER This time I'm gonna make sure you stay dead. He hits the flame. WHOOOSSSH!! 50. ON ANOTHER STREET - Mater clicks along, still looking for Holley. Just as he passes the alley entrance where Finn stares down death: HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) You're doing brilliantly. Now just stay focused. MATER What's that? You want me to head toward that ruckus? Mater turns INTO the alley. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go down that street! IN THE ALLEY - Finn, now nearly pushed completely into the flame thrower, leaps into the air. He FIGHTS BACK, using his wheels, axle, indeed his entire car frame as if he were human, kicking and tossing and shooting his enemies. Mater witnesses the whole thing. MATER Wow! A live karate demonstration! ON THE TRACK - McQueen, now playing catch-up again, scowls. MCQUEEN Stop it, Mater. Just sign off. IN THE BACK ALLEY - Finn polishes off the AMCs by firing a bullet into a gas main line, causing an EXPLOSION that tosses Acer through the air where he lands in a NOODLE SHOP'S SIGN. ON THE TRACK - The end of the race is nigh --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) They're bumper to bumper as they approach the finish line! The Formula car gets there first. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco's the winner, McQueen's number two! IN THE ALLEY - Finn heaves breaths, surveys his damage. MATER That was cool! Hey, can I get your autograph? 51. Mater approaches when a MASS OF RACE FANS burst out a door, momentarily blocking Mater's view of Finn. Once the fans have past, Finn has disappeared. MATER Hey, where'd he go? HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) Our rendezvous has been jeopardized. Keep the device safe. We'll be in touch. MATER Dadgum, did I miss our date? EXT. PRESS STAGE - LATER Post race press conference. Francesco is center stage. DARRELL CARTRIP Francesco, over here! Hey, what was your strategy today? FRANCESCO Strategia? Francesco needs no strategy, it's very simple. You start the race, wait for Lightning McQueen to choke, pass him, then win. Francesco always wins. It's boring. McQueen, waiting in the wings, rolls his eyes. He suddenly notices something O.S. McQueen's P.O.V. - It's MATER, appearing from a side street, moving toward the pits, oblivious of the press conference. DARRELL CARTRIP (TO FRANCESCO) I gotta tell you, dude. You were in trouble for awhile. That dirt track section had you crawling! As McQueen SNEAKS AWAY --- FRANCESCO To truly crush one's dream, you must first raise their hopes very high. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT GARAGE - Mater looks around for everyone as McQueen approaches. 52. MCQUEEN Mater. MATER Hey McQueen! What happened? Is the race over? You won, right? MCQUEEN Mater, why were you yelling things at me while I was racing? MATER Yelling? Oh, you thought... that's funny right there. Nah, see that's `cause I seen these two fellers doing some sort of karate street performance. It was nutso. One of them even had a flamethrower --- MCQUEEN A flamethrower? What are you talking about? I don't understand. Where were you? MATER Going to meet my date. MCQUEEN Your date? MATER She started talking to me as a voice in my head, telling me where to go --- MCQUEEN What? MATER Wait a minute -- I didn't screw you up, did I? MCQUEEN I lost the race because of you! MATER Well, I'm sorry. I didn't mean --- MCQUEEN An imaginary girlfriend, flamethrowers. This is exactly why I don't bring you along to these things. 53. MATER Maybe if I, I don't know, talked to somebody and explained what happened I could help. MCQUEEN I don't need your help. I don't want your help. PRESS (O.S.) Hey, there he is!! The press finds McQueen, swarms him. Mater is pushed backwards as the questions fly again. PRESS - McQueen, you had it in the bag! - Yeah, what happened? MCQUEEN I made a mistake. But I can assure you, it won't happen again. On Mater. He takes this badly. MCQUEEN Look, guys. We know what the problem is and we've taken care of it. SMASH TO: OVER FOOTAGE OF FRANCESCO and various other highlights: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER Lightning McQueen loses in the last lap to Francesco Bernoulli in the first race of the World Grand Prix and three, count em, three cars

care

How many times the word 'care' appears in the text?

Finn. Meet HOLLEY SHIFTWELL. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. FINN That's because it's air-cooled. HOLLEY I'm Agent Shiftwell, Holley Shiftwell from the Tokyo Station. I have a message from London. FINN Not here. (LOUDLY) You must try the canapes on the mezzanine! He moves her onto an elevator. The doors close on them. IN THE ELEVATOR, GOING UP. FINN So the lab boys analyzed the photo I sent? What did they learn about the camera? HOLLEY It appears to be a standard television camera. They said if you could get closer photos next time, that would be great. FINN This was London's message? 27. HOLLEY Oh -- no, no. No sir. Um, the oil platforms you were on? Turns out they're sitting on the biggest oil reserve in the world. FINN How did we miss that? HOLLEY They'd been scrambling everyone's satellites. The Americans actually discovered it just before you did. They placed an agent on that platform, under deep cover. He was able to get a photo of the car who's running the entire operation. The doors OPEN and they exit onto the Mezzanine. FINN Who is it? Has anyone seen the photo yet? HOLLEY No, not yet. The American is here tonight to pass it to you. He'll signal you when he's ready. FINN GOOD --- Finn suddenly STOPS COLD. FINN Oh no. Professor Zundapp is visible below them. He talks with a few Pacers and Gremlins. Finn quickly retreats into the shadows. Holley follows suit. HOLLEY What is it? FINN Change of plan. You're meeting the American. HOLLEY What, me? 28. FINN Those thugs down there were on the oil platform. If they see me, the whole mission is compromised. HOLLEY No, no. I'm technical, you see. I'm in Diagnostics. I'm not a field agent. FINN You are now. CUT TO: MATER as he grabs a drink, keeps moving. MATER I'll take one of them. He snatches it, drops it in the back where we now see a large assortment of drinks balanced. MATER Never know which one McQueen'll have a hankering for. He approaches a sushi bar. MATER Hey, what you got here that's free? How about that pistachio ice cream? He refers to wasabi, of course. SUSHI CHEF No, no. Wasabi. MATER Oh, same ol', same ol'. What's up with you? That looks delicious. The chef starts to carve a small scoop aside for Mater. MATER Uh, a little more, please. It is free, right? (the chef adds more) Keep it coming. A little more. Come on, let's go, it's free! You're getting there... Scoop scoop! The chef gives in. Scoops a baseball-sized ball out. 29. MATER There you go. Now THAT's a scoop of ice cream. SUSHI CHEF (in Japanese, subtitles) My condolences. CUT BACK TO: MILES AXLEROD - He's now nearly done with his intros. MILES AXLEROD ... and now, our last competitor --- Number 95, Lightning McQueen! MCQUEEN approaches the microphone, flashes his headlights. MCQUEEN Thank you so much for having us, Sir Axlerod. I really look forward to racing. This is a great opportunity. MILES AXLEROD Oh, the pleasure is all ours, Lightning. You and your team bring excellence and professionalism to this competition. As if on cue, Mater arrives with a piercing scream of pain. Everyone turns as he charges head first toward the stage, making a bee-line for that FOUNTAIN. MATER Somebody get me water! He laps up water from the fountain like a diabetic cat. MATER (LAPPING WATER) Sweet relief... Miles Axlerod is shocked. The crowd can't believe it. Francesco cackles. Mater, now sated, approaches the mic. MATER (to the crowd) Whatever you do, do not eat the free pistachio ice cream. It has turned! MCQUEEN Sir Axlerod, I can explain. This is Mater. 30. MILES AXLEROD I know him. This is the bloke that called into the television show. (TO MATER) You're the one I have to thank. MATER No, thank you. This trip's been amazing. MILES AXLEROD (TO MCQUEEN) He's a little excited, isn't he? TILT DOWN to reveal a pool of oil beneath Mater. MCQUEEN Mater! MATER But wait, I... oh, shoot. McQueen quickly pulls Mater aside, out of earshot of Miles Axlerod and the others. McQueen is beside himself. MCQUEEN Mater, you have to get a hold of yourself. You're making a scene. MATER But I never leak oil. Never. MCQUEEN Go take care of yourself right now. Mater drives off. ON MATER - MOMENTS LATER He drives through the party, frantic. MATER Coming through! Excuse me, leakin' oil. Where's the bathroom? Thank you. I gotta go! Someone points Mater down a hallway. He whips around the CORNER --- --- and STOPS. Finds himself in front of TWO BATHROOM DOORS, neither of which clearly indicate MALE or FEMALE. 31. MATER (CONFUSED) What the... Mater chooses one, drives inside. A SHRIEK is heard and Mater zips out. MATER Sorry ladies! He heads into the other door --- CUT TO: INT. MEN'S ROOM - NIGHT Mater rolls in, still `holding it in' like a kid. MATER I never leak I never leak I never leak... He sees someone leaving a stall. He heads in. IN THE STALL - Mater enters, looks up. MATER Wowee... The stall is a complicated apparatus with buttons and lights. High-tech Japanese. It suddenly GRABS MATER, hoists him up as if he's going to get an oil change. MATER What in the--- A Japanese style cartoon CARICATURE appears on a TV MONITOR, followed by images of waterfalls and rivers. MATER (GIGGLING) Hey, that tickles. The caricature starts talking in Japanese. Suddenly WATER FIRES UP underneath Mater's undercarriage, goosing him. He freaks out. OUTSIDE THE STALL - With Mater's yells audible we see a GREMLIN enter, furtive. Suddenly, inexplicably, his frame BREAKS APART like an egg, revealing an AMERICAN MUSCLE CAR underneath. The pieces of the Gremlin disappear under him, clearly his disguise. This is ROD REDLINE - American Agent. 32. ROD REDLINE Okay, McMissile. I'm here. It's time for the drop. INT. PARTY - SAME HOLLEY, rolls along by herself. Nervous. DING! Her rearview monitor springs to life. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) The American has activated his tracking beacon. FINN (OVER RADIO) Roger that. Move in. INT. BATHROOM - SAME Rod Redline, waiting at a sink, feels a presence behind him. GREM and ACER have entered, hesitate briefly when they see Rod Redline. Rod Redline, careful, slides a gun out of his tire. He is suddenly CHARGED by the AMCs --- Rod SPINS AROUND and gets a shot off but is SLAMMED HEAD FIRST. A TIGHT, CLOSE-QUARTERS FIGHT begins --- IN THE STALL - Mater, still TRAPPED, is now being SCRUBBED as if in a car wash. He is helpless. OUTSIDE THE STALL - Rod is being pulverized. Just when he scrambles away from one car, the other one takes over. IN THE STALL - Mater is mercifully released, but when he backs out --- --- Rod Redline is THROWN INTO MATER'S STALL DOOR, crunching it and sending Mater --- --- BACK INTO THE CLUTCHES of the insane toilet. INT. PARTY - SAME Holley isolates the tracking beacon's location in the party. HOLLEY Oh, you've got to be joking. FINN What's the problem, Shiftwell? HOLLEY He's in the loo. 33. FINN So go in! HOLLEY I can't just go into the men's loo. FINN Time is of the essence, Shiftwell. INT. BATHROOM - OUTSIDE THE STALL Rod Redline is in bad shape. He backs away, betrays a look of concern. He's in trouble here. ACER burns rubber, ready to finish him off. Just as he shifts into DRIVE --- --- MATER'S STALL DOOR KICKS OPEN, knocking ACER out. Mater jumps out, face-to-face GREM. MATER (out of breath) Whatever you do, I would not go in there. The door SWINGS shut, revealing the pulverized Acer. MATER A Gremlin and a Pacer! Rod Redline, now behind Mater and sensing an opportunity here, quickly produces A SMALL DEVICE. MATER (to Grem and Acer) No offense to your makes and models, but you guys break down harder than my cousin Betsy after she got left at the --- Rod Redline, surreptitiously attaches the device to Mater's undercarriage. MATER (as he's goosed) --- altar! He spins around, sees Rod Redline for the first time. MATER Are you okay? ROD REDLINE I'm fine. 34. GREM Hey. Tow truck. Mater turns back to Grem and Acer. GREM We'd like to get to our private business here, if you don't mind. MATER Oh, yeah. Don't let me get in the way of your "private business." Oh! A little advice: When you hear her giggle and see that waterfall, you best press that green button. GREM Thank you. MATER It's to adjust the temperature. ACER Got it. MATER Remember it's in Celsius, not Fahrenheit. GREM AND ACER Get outta here! MATER Alright then. Mater exits, leaving Rod Redline to a now even angrier Grem and Acer. EXT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER Holley arrives at the door. She takes a breath, is about to enter when Mater EXITS. MATER Excuse me, ma'am. He passes her, expelling some exhaust in the process. Holley's rearview tracking confirms that the device is on him. MATER (TO HIMSELF) Dadgum pistachio ice cream. 35. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) This cannot be him. FINN (OVER RADIO) Is he American? MATER (driving off, to himself) Look out, ladies. Mater's fittin' to get funky! HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Extremely. FINN (OVER RADIO) Then it's him. It's settled. Holley takes one more nervous breath, quickly closes the distance between her and Mater, cuts him off. He is forced to STOP. HOLLEY Hello. MATER Well, hello. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. MATER Well of course it doesn't. That's `cause it's air-cooled! HOLLEY (RELIEVED) Perfect. I'm from the Tokyo Station OF THE--- MATER Course, Karmann Ghia's weren't the only ones. Besides the Beetles you had your Type-3 Squarebacks, with the pancake motors... HOLLEY Yeah. Okay, I get it--- MATER ... And before both of them, there's the Type-2 buses - my buddy Fillmore's one of them. 36. HOLLEY Listen! We should find somewhere more private. MATER Uh, gee. Don't you think that's a little, uh --- HOLLEY (NERVOUS ENERGY) You're right. Impossible to know which areas here are compromised. So, when can I see you again? MATER Well, let's see. Tomorrow I'll be out there at the races. HOLLEY Got it. We'll rendezvous then. INT. PARTY - MOMENTS LATER Mater returns to his team, lost in thought. MCQUEEN There you are. Where have you been? MATER What's a rendezvous? LUIGI It's like a date. MATER A date?! MCQUEEN Mater, what's going on? MATER Well, what's going on is I've got me a date tomorrow. Guido makes a crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido don't believe you. MATER Well, believe it. My new girlfriend just said so. Hey, there she is. Mater points out Holley, who's within earshot. 37. MATER (YELLING) Hey! Hey lady! Holley, caught in plain view, DRIVES OFF. MATER See ya tomorrow! Guido makes another crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido still don't believe you. EXT. SHIPYARD - THE DOCKS - TOKYO NIGHT An industrial dock, outside of the city proper. INT. SHIPYARD - NIGHT Rod Redline dangles from a car magnet. He's been beaten up, clings to consciousness. GREM (O.S.) I gotta admit --- Grem, Acer, and a bunch of nasty looking troublemakers look up at Rod amidst crates and shipping containers. GREM --- you tricked us real good. ACER And we don't like being tricked. Rod Redline laughs to himself. ACER Hey, what's so funny? ROD REDLINE Well, you know, I was just wearing a disguise. You guys are stuck looking like that. This doesn't help him. They DROP HIM onto a TREADMILL, lock him down. A container is wheeled forward and Rod is plied with Allinol brand gasoline. ROD REDLINE Allinol? Thanks, fellas. I hear this stuff is good for you. 38. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (O.S.) So you think. The Professor emerges from the darkness, behind Rod. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Allinol by itself is good for you. Zundapp hits a button and the TREADMILL starts Rod's wheels spinning at a high rate of speed. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP But after microscopic examination, I have found that it has one small weakness. When hit with an electromagnetic pulse, it becomes extremely dangerous. GREM SMILE --- Grem pushes a World Grand Prix CAMERA - the same one that was in the box back at the oil derrick. He points it at Rod Redline. GREM --- for the camera. ROD REDLINE Is that all you want? I got a whole act. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You were very interested in this camera on the oil platform. Now you will witness what it really does. ROD REDLINE Whatever you say, Professor. Acer pushes a TV MONITOR toward Rod. On it, surveillance footage from the party. Clearly, they were watching and recording him there. ACER You talked up a lot of cars last night. Which one's your associate? ROD REDLINE Your mother. Oh no, I'm sorry. It was your sister. You know, I can't tell them apart these days. 39. GREM (HAD ENOUGH) Could I start it now, Professor? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Fifty percent power. (to Rod Redline) This camera is actually an electromagnetic pulse emitter. ACER (re: a girl on the TV) What about her? Did you give it to her? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The Allinol is now heating to a boil, dramatically expanding, causing the engine block to crack under the stress, forcing oil into the combustion chamber. Rod Redline's engine starts to CRACK and BREAK. ACER (re: a guy on the TV) How about him? You talk to him? ROD REDLINE (to Professor Zundapp) What do I care? I can replace an engine block. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You may be able to, but after full impact of the pulse, unfortunately, there will be nothing to replace. ACER How about him? Does he have it? The monitor reveals MATER, rolling out of the bathroom and down the hall. Rod Redline, seeing this, does the world's most subtle double take. We caught it, but there's no way anyone else in the room could have --- PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP That's him. He's the one. GREM Roger that, Professor Z. 40. ROD REDLINE No! As Grem turns up the machine even MORE, the Professor makes a call. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (INTO PHONE) Yes sir. We believe the infiltrator has passed along sensitive information. (beat, listening) I will take care of it before any damage can be done. The Professor hangs up, turns to the room. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The project is still on schedule. You will find this second agent --- Zundapp kicks the camera's power into the RED. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP --- and kill him. On the MONITOR - With Mater's frozen image on the screen we see Rod EXPLODE in the reflection. EXT. JAPAN - DAY Over television pre-roll of Japan: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Japan. Land of the rising sun. Where ancient tradition meets modern technology. Welcome to the inaugural running of the World Grand Prix. ON OUR ANNOUNCERS as they introduce themselves: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER I'm Brent Mustangburger, here with racing legends Darrell Cartrip and David Hobbscap. There's never been a competition like this before. SHOTS OF THE PITS as the racers fuel up. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) First, Allinol, making its debut tonight as the required fuel for all these great champions. (MORE) 41. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) (CONT'D) Second, the course itself, and it's like nothing we've ever seen. David, how exactly does this competition work? DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Well, Brent, all three of these street courses are classic round- the-house racetracks. OUTLINES OF THREE RACE COURSES are shown. They're labeled Japan, Italy and England, and are different in shape and size. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) This means that the LMP and Formula cars should break out of the gate in spectacular fashion. SHOTS OF THE RACERS as they weave up the track, practicing. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Look for Francesco Bernoulli in particular to lead early. SHOTS OF Francesco, featured in an inset. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) And with a series of technical turns throughout --- MORE SHOTS of the course, now highlighting the tech turns. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) GT and Touring cars like Spain's Miguel Camino should make up some ground but I doubt it'll be enough to stop Francesco from absolutely running away with it. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Woah, now just hold your horsepower. You're forgetting the most important factor here. That early dirt track section of the course! The dirt is supposed to be the great equalizer in this race. GRAPHICS OF THE COURSES now isolate a stretch after the first couple turns, label it "DIRT SECTIONS." 42. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) French Rally car Raoul aRoule is counting on a big boost headed through there. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) And don't forget Lightning McQueen! His mentor, the Hudson Hornet, was one of the greatest dirt track racers of all time. In my opinion, McQueen is the best all-around racer in this competition. BACK IN THE STUDIO DAVID HOBBSCAP Really, Darrell, I think you need to clean your windshield. You're clearly not seeing this for what it is: Francesco's race to lose. EXT. STARTING LINE - DAY BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) It's time to find out. The racers are locking into the grid --- Engines rev as everyone gets ready to go. Everyone's bright eyed and alert except for McQueen who we find in the back of the grid. He CLOSES his eyes. MCQUEEN (TO HIMSELF) Speed. I am speed. A LAUGH O.S. McQueen opens his eyes. Francesco is next to him on the grid. FRANCESCO Really? You are "speed"? Then Francesco is triple speed. (closes his eyes) Francesco. Is. Triple speed. Francesco likes this, McQueen. It's really getting him into the zone! MCQUEEN He is so getting beat today. The starting lights click down from RED to YELLOW to GREEN. The race begins. Francesco quickly grabs the lead. He's pulling away within seconds. 43. ON PIT ROW - We TRACK PAST as the various Crew Chiefs on their crash carts bark orders to their racers. We end on Team McQueen. No Crew Chief, just a solid looking team. SARGE His suspension stats look good. LUIGI Tire pressure is excellent. FILLMORE He's got plenty of fuel. MATER And he's awesome! CUT TO: The same view of Mater but now THROUGH A TELESCOPIC DISPLAY. Reveal Finn and Holley watching from high above in a downtown office building, behind reflective glass. HOLLEY Why is he in the pits? He's so exposed. FINN It's his cover. One of the best I've seen, too. Look at the detail on that rust. It must have cost him a fortune. HOLLEY But why hasn't he contacted us yet? FINN There's probably heat on him. Be patient. HOLLEY Right, of course. He'll signal us when he can. FINN And then we find out who's behind all this. ON THE TRACK - VARIOUS SHOTS OF THE RACE through Tokyo as Francesco extends his lead and McQueen attempts to make up ground. 44. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - Mater watches the monitors, sees them approaching the dirt section. MATER McQueen! It's time to make your move. Get on the outside and show 'em what Doc done taught you. MCQUEEN (OVER RADIO) Ten four, Mater. ON THE TRACK - Francesco hits the dirt section and loses all control. He SLAMS to a halt, his tires getting no traction. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Francesco is brought to a screeching halt! MCQUEEN skids into view, turning right to go left, passing Francesco, followed by other cars --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Lightning McQueen is the first to take advantage. And just like that, folks, Francesco's lead is left in the dust. MCQUEEN Nice call, Mater. Keep it up! McQueen now leads the pack, zooming out of the dirt now starting to relax. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Who-hoo! Man, McQueen looks happier than a rollbar at a demolition derby! ON PAVED ROAD AGAIN - MOMENTS LATER The field of cars thunders into a tunnel. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Everyone's jostling for position as we hit the asphalt again. Francesco crests the hill, in last place. He bites down, determined, then CHASES. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco lost a lot of momentum in the dirt. He's got some serious work ahead of him if he wants to get back in this race. 45. VARIOUS SHOTS OF TOKYO as the racers move through the Rainbow Bridge. Bit by bit, Francesco ekes his way toward the front, toward Lightning McQueen as we CUT TO --- --- A ROOFTOP, and a VIEW THROUGH THE WGP CAMERA LENS. Grem and Acer are manning this one. They focus it on the racers as they approach. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (OVER RADIO) It is time. GREM Roger that. ON THE TRACK - A racer (Miguel Camino) suddenly PLUMES WITH SMOKE and skids out. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Oh! Miguel Camino has blown an engine! BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Very unusual, Darrell. He's been so consistent all year. Camino quickly pits, passing McQueen's pit where Mater is visible. ON GREM AND ACER, watching from above. GREM You gotta be kidding me. ACER What is it? GREM It's that tow truck from the bathroom. ACER The one from the bathroom? GREM Yeah, the one the American Agent passed the device to. ACER What about him? GREM What about him? He's in the pits! 46. ACER Not for long. Acer exits, with purpose. ON FINN AND HOLLEY, still in their office hideaway. Holley's onboard computer flashes an ALERT. HOLLEY Hold on. I think I've got something. FINN What is it? HOLLEY The Pacer from the party last night. She's spotted Acer, moving swiftly forward. HOLLEY Cross-referencing with the photos from the oil derricks... Yep. His VIN numbers match. FINN Anyone with him? He won't be alone. HOLLEY Conducting analysis on the target. The computer finds more and more bad guy Pacers and Gremlins are in the crowd. HOLLEY He's not the only one here. Three... five... they're everywhere. And they're all closing in on... oh no. We PAN OVER to see it's MATER. HOLLEY Finn? Finn, where are you? She turns. He's GONE, leaving only an open window. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of the pits now! IN MCQUEEN'S PIT. A car WHIPS BY O.S. 47. MATER Wow! Some of them fellers is really loud. HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Can you hear me? Over. MATER Uh, what? HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Get out of the pit now. Do you hear me? Mater realizes this girl has somehow broken into his radio. MATER (INTO RADIO) Hey, I know you. You're that girl from the party last night. You wanna do our date right now? ON THE TRACK - McQueen boxes out Francesco, holds his slim lead, but barely. MCQUEEN Guys, a little too much chatter. Let's keep this line clear. BOOM! A racer behind McQueen suddenly expels black smoke, skids out of control. ON GREM - laughing. That was clearly his handiwork. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - SAME HOLLEY (ON MATER'S RADIO) There's no time for messing about. You've got to get out of the pits. MATER Is there gonna be cable where you is so I can watch the rest of the race? ON HOLLEY - Watching from the downtown building. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) You're running out of time! FINN (OVER RADIO) They're coming, Shiftwell. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Yes, I know. 48. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of there. HOLLEY (TO FINN) I'm trying. (TO MATER) Get out now! We CUT BACK TO --- --- MATER. He gives in, exits the pit. MATER Well, all right but I usually like to have a proper detailing done before I meet a lady friend. He moves toward the back PIT DOOR, is about to open it. OUTSIDE THE PITS - ACER and another Pacer approach McQueen's pit door on the other side. Ready to pounce. The doors OPEN, REVEALING --- --- Finn, holding a fire extinguisher. ACER Finn McMissile? But you're dead! FINN Then this shouldn't hurt at all. He empties the extinguisher in their eyes, speeds past. They try and follow, but have been blinded. One of them crashes right into a COP. ON FINN - Already on the move, along a side street. FINN Miss Shiftwell? ON HOLLEY - Tracking everything on a grid map. Mater looks like Pac Man, weaving through the streets as bad guys close in all around him. HOLLEY I've got him in the back alleys east of the garages. Multiple assailants are closing in quickly. FINN (OVER RADIO) Keep him moving. I'm on my way. ON MATER - He turns a corner, sees a flower shop. 49. MATER Hey, new lady friend? You like flowers? ON THE TRACK - McQueen, hearing this, is taken aback. MCQUEEN What? ON MATER - Slowing at the flower shop. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go 'in' anywhere. Just keep moving. MATER Stay outside. Gotcha. ON THE TRACK MCQUEEN Outside? McQueen drifts outside allowing Francesco to slip past! FRANCESCO Grazie and arrivaderci! DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) I cannot believe what I just saw, Brent. That was a bonehead move. You don't open up the inside like that! IN THE BACK ALLEYS - As Mater moves on he's followed by Pacers and Gremlins. Suddenly --- --- CABLES whip in front of them, pulling over flower vending machines and sending the shop's owners into a frenzy. They direct their attention to the AMCs, who try and explain. ON FINN, admiring his handiwork as he appears. Just as he turns to leave he's BROADSIDED and pushed INTO A DARK ALLEY. IN THE ALLEY - Finn finds himself boxed by two Pacers and pushed toward --- --- ACER, who now holds a FLAME THROWER. ACER This time I'm gonna make sure you stay dead. He hits the flame. WHOOOSSSH!! 50. ON ANOTHER STREET - Mater clicks along, still looking for Holley. Just as he passes the alley entrance where Finn stares down death: HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) You're doing brilliantly. Now just stay focused. MATER What's that? You want me to head toward that ruckus? Mater turns INTO the alley. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go down that street! IN THE ALLEY - Finn, now nearly pushed completely into the flame thrower, leaps into the air. He FIGHTS BACK, using his wheels, axle, indeed his entire car frame as if he were human, kicking and tossing and shooting his enemies. Mater witnesses the whole thing. MATER Wow! A live karate demonstration! ON THE TRACK - McQueen, now playing catch-up again, scowls. MCQUEEN Stop it, Mater. Just sign off. IN THE BACK ALLEY - Finn polishes off the AMCs by firing a bullet into a gas main line, causing an EXPLOSION that tosses Acer through the air where he lands in a NOODLE SHOP'S SIGN. ON THE TRACK - The end of the race is nigh --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) They're bumper to bumper as they approach the finish line! The Formula car gets there first. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco's the winner, McQueen's number two! IN THE ALLEY - Finn heaves breaths, surveys his damage. MATER That was cool! Hey, can I get your autograph? 51. Mater approaches when a MASS OF RACE FANS burst out a door, momentarily blocking Mater's view of Finn. Once the fans have past, Finn has disappeared. MATER Hey, where'd he go? HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) Our rendezvous has been jeopardized. Keep the device safe. We'll be in touch. MATER Dadgum, did I miss our date? EXT. PRESS STAGE - LATER Post race press conference. Francesco is center stage. DARRELL CARTRIP Francesco, over here! Hey, what was your strategy today? FRANCESCO Strategia? Francesco needs no strategy, it's very simple. You start the race, wait for Lightning McQueen to choke, pass him, then win. Francesco always wins. It's boring. McQueen, waiting in the wings, rolls his eyes. He suddenly notices something O.S. McQueen's P.O.V. - It's MATER, appearing from a side street, moving toward the pits, oblivious of the press conference. DARRELL CARTRIP (TO FRANCESCO) I gotta tell you, dude. You were in trouble for awhile. That dirt track section had you crawling! As McQueen SNEAKS AWAY --- FRANCESCO To truly crush one's dream, you must first raise their hopes very high. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT GARAGE - Mater looks around for everyone as McQueen approaches. 52. MCQUEEN Mater. MATER Hey McQueen! What happened? Is the race over? You won, right? MCQUEEN Mater, why were you yelling things at me while I was racing? MATER Yelling? Oh, you thought... that's funny right there. Nah, see that's `cause I seen these two fellers doing some sort of karate street performance. It was nutso. One of them even had a flamethrower --- MCQUEEN A flamethrower? What are you talking about? I don't understand. Where were you? MATER Going to meet my date. MCQUEEN Your date? MATER She started talking to me as a voice in my head, telling me where to go --- MCQUEEN What? MATER Wait a minute -- I didn't screw you up, did I? MCQUEEN I lost the race because of you! MATER Well, I'm sorry. I didn't mean --- MCQUEEN An imaginary girlfriend, flamethrowers. This is exactly why I don't bring you along to these things. 53. MATER Maybe if I, I don't know, talked to somebody and explained what happened I could help. MCQUEEN I don't need your help. I don't want your help. PRESS (O.S.) Hey, there he is!! The press finds McQueen, swarms him. Mater is pushed backwards as the questions fly again. PRESS - McQueen, you had it in the bag! - Yeah, what happened? MCQUEEN I made a mistake. But I can assure you, it won't happen again. On Mater. He takes this badly. MCQUEEN Look, guys. We know what the problem is and we've taken care of it. SMASH TO: OVER FOOTAGE OF FRANCESCO and various other highlights: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER Lightning McQueen loses in the last lap to Francesco Bernoulli in the first race of the World Grand Prix and three, count em, three cars

trial

How many times the word 'trial' appears in the text?

Finn. Meet HOLLEY SHIFTWELL. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. FINN That's because it's air-cooled. HOLLEY I'm Agent Shiftwell, Holley Shiftwell from the Tokyo Station. I have a message from London. FINN Not here. (LOUDLY) You must try the canapes on the mezzanine! He moves her onto an elevator. The doors close on them. IN THE ELEVATOR, GOING UP. FINN So the lab boys analyzed the photo I sent? What did they learn about the camera? HOLLEY It appears to be a standard television camera. They said if you could get closer photos next time, that would be great. FINN This was London's message? 27. HOLLEY Oh -- no, no. No sir. Um, the oil platforms you were on? Turns out they're sitting on the biggest oil reserve in the world. FINN How did we miss that? HOLLEY They'd been scrambling everyone's satellites. The Americans actually discovered it just before you did. They placed an agent on that platform, under deep cover. He was able to get a photo of the car who's running the entire operation. The doors OPEN and they exit onto the Mezzanine. FINN Who is it? Has anyone seen the photo yet? HOLLEY No, not yet. The American is here tonight to pass it to you. He'll signal you when he's ready. FINN GOOD --- Finn suddenly STOPS COLD. FINN Oh no. Professor Zundapp is visible below them. He talks with a few Pacers and Gremlins. Finn quickly retreats into the shadows. Holley follows suit. HOLLEY What is it? FINN Change of plan. You're meeting the American. HOLLEY What, me? 28. FINN Those thugs down there were on the oil platform. If they see me, the whole mission is compromised. HOLLEY No, no. I'm technical, you see. I'm in Diagnostics. I'm not a field agent. FINN You are now. CUT TO: MATER as he grabs a drink, keeps moving. MATER I'll take one of them. He snatches it, drops it in the back where we now see a large assortment of drinks balanced. MATER Never know which one McQueen'll have a hankering for. He approaches a sushi bar. MATER Hey, what you got here that's free? How about that pistachio ice cream? He refers to wasabi, of course. SUSHI CHEF No, no. Wasabi. MATER Oh, same ol', same ol'. What's up with you? That looks delicious. The chef starts to carve a small scoop aside for Mater. MATER Uh, a little more, please. It is free, right? (the chef adds more) Keep it coming. A little more. Come on, let's go, it's free! You're getting there... Scoop scoop! The chef gives in. Scoops a baseball-sized ball out. 29. MATER There you go. Now THAT's a scoop of ice cream. SUSHI CHEF (in Japanese, subtitles) My condolences. CUT BACK TO: MILES AXLEROD - He's now nearly done with his intros. MILES AXLEROD ... and now, our last competitor --- Number 95, Lightning McQueen! MCQUEEN approaches the microphone, flashes his headlights. MCQUEEN Thank you so much for having us, Sir Axlerod. I really look forward to racing. This is a great opportunity. MILES AXLEROD Oh, the pleasure is all ours, Lightning. You and your team bring excellence and professionalism to this competition. As if on cue, Mater arrives with a piercing scream of pain. Everyone turns as he charges head first toward the stage, making a bee-line for that FOUNTAIN. MATER Somebody get me water! He laps up water from the fountain like a diabetic cat. MATER (LAPPING WATER) Sweet relief... Miles Axlerod is shocked. The crowd can't believe it. Francesco cackles. Mater, now sated, approaches the mic. MATER (to the crowd) Whatever you do, do not eat the free pistachio ice cream. It has turned! MCQUEEN Sir Axlerod, I can explain. This is Mater. 30. MILES AXLEROD I know him. This is the bloke that called into the television show. (TO MATER) You're the one I have to thank. MATER No, thank you. This trip's been amazing. MILES AXLEROD (TO MCQUEEN) He's a little excited, isn't he? TILT DOWN to reveal a pool of oil beneath Mater. MCQUEEN Mater! MATER But wait, I... oh, shoot. McQueen quickly pulls Mater aside, out of earshot of Miles Axlerod and the others. McQueen is beside himself. MCQUEEN Mater, you have to get a hold of yourself. You're making a scene. MATER But I never leak oil. Never. MCQUEEN Go take care of yourself right now. Mater drives off. ON MATER - MOMENTS LATER He drives through the party, frantic. MATER Coming through! Excuse me, leakin' oil. Where's the bathroom? Thank you. I gotta go! Someone points Mater down a hallway. He whips around the CORNER --- --- and STOPS. Finds himself in front of TWO BATHROOM DOORS, neither of which clearly indicate MALE or FEMALE. 31. MATER (CONFUSED) What the... Mater chooses one, drives inside. A SHRIEK is heard and Mater zips out. MATER Sorry ladies! He heads into the other door --- CUT TO: INT. MEN'S ROOM - NIGHT Mater rolls in, still `holding it in' like a kid. MATER I never leak I never leak I never leak... He sees someone leaving a stall. He heads in. IN THE STALL - Mater enters, looks up. MATER Wowee... The stall is a complicated apparatus with buttons and lights. High-tech Japanese. It suddenly GRABS MATER, hoists him up as if he's going to get an oil change. MATER What in the--- A Japanese style cartoon CARICATURE appears on a TV MONITOR, followed by images of waterfalls and rivers. MATER (GIGGLING) Hey, that tickles. The caricature starts talking in Japanese. Suddenly WATER FIRES UP underneath Mater's undercarriage, goosing him. He freaks out. OUTSIDE THE STALL - With Mater's yells audible we see a GREMLIN enter, furtive. Suddenly, inexplicably, his frame BREAKS APART like an egg, revealing an AMERICAN MUSCLE CAR underneath. The pieces of the Gremlin disappear under him, clearly his disguise. This is ROD REDLINE - American Agent. 32. ROD REDLINE Okay, McMissile. I'm here. It's time for the drop. INT. PARTY - SAME HOLLEY, rolls along by herself. Nervous. DING! Her rearview monitor springs to life. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) The American has activated his tracking beacon. FINN (OVER RADIO) Roger that. Move in. INT. BATHROOM - SAME Rod Redline, waiting at a sink, feels a presence behind him. GREM and ACER have entered, hesitate briefly when they see Rod Redline. Rod Redline, careful, slides a gun out of his tire. He is suddenly CHARGED by the AMCs --- Rod SPINS AROUND and gets a shot off but is SLAMMED HEAD FIRST. A TIGHT, CLOSE-QUARTERS FIGHT begins --- IN THE STALL - Mater, still TRAPPED, is now being SCRUBBED as if in a car wash. He is helpless. OUTSIDE THE STALL - Rod is being pulverized. Just when he scrambles away from one car, the other one takes over. IN THE STALL - Mater is mercifully released, but when he backs out --- --- Rod Redline is THROWN INTO MATER'S STALL DOOR, crunching it and sending Mater --- --- BACK INTO THE CLUTCHES of the insane toilet. INT. PARTY - SAME Holley isolates the tracking beacon's location in the party. HOLLEY Oh, you've got to be joking. FINN What's the problem, Shiftwell? HOLLEY He's in the loo. 33. FINN So go in! HOLLEY I can't just go into the men's loo. FINN Time is of the essence, Shiftwell. INT. BATHROOM - OUTSIDE THE STALL Rod Redline is in bad shape. He backs away, betrays a look of concern. He's in trouble here. ACER burns rubber, ready to finish him off. Just as he shifts into DRIVE --- --- MATER'S STALL DOOR KICKS OPEN, knocking ACER out. Mater jumps out, face-to-face GREM. MATER (out of breath) Whatever you do, I would not go in there. The door SWINGS shut, revealing the pulverized Acer. MATER A Gremlin and a Pacer! Rod Redline, now behind Mater and sensing an opportunity here, quickly produces A SMALL DEVICE. MATER (to Grem and Acer) No offense to your makes and models, but you guys break down harder than my cousin Betsy after she got left at the --- Rod Redline, surreptitiously attaches the device to Mater's undercarriage. MATER (as he's goosed) --- altar! He spins around, sees Rod Redline for the first time. MATER Are you okay? ROD REDLINE I'm fine. 34. GREM Hey. Tow truck. Mater turns back to Grem and Acer. GREM We'd like to get to our private business here, if you don't mind. MATER Oh, yeah. Don't let me get in the way of your "private business." Oh! A little advice: When you hear her giggle and see that waterfall, you best press that green button. GREM Thank you. MATER It's to adjust the temperature. ACER Got it. MATER Remember it's in Celsius, not Fahrenheit. GREM AND ACER Get outta here! MATER Alright then. Mater exits, leaving Rod Redline to a now even angrier Grem and Acer. EXT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER Holley arrives at the door. She takes a breath, is about to enter when Mater EXITS. MATER Excuse me, ma'am. He passes her, expelling some exhaust in the process. Holley's rearview tracking confirms that the device is on him. MATER (TO HIMSELF) Dadgum pistachio ice cream. 35. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) This cannot be him. FINN (OVER RADIO) Is he American? MATER (driving off, to himself) Look out, ladies. Mater's fittin' to get funky! HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Extremely. FINN (OVER RADIO) Then it's him. It's settled. Holley takes one more nervous breath, quickly closes the distance between her and Mater, cuts him off. He is forced to STOP. HOLLEY Hello. MATER Well, hello. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. MATER Well of course it doesn't. That's `cause it's air-cooled! HOLLEY (RELIEVED) Perfect. I'm from the Tokyo Station OF THE--- MATER Course, Karmann Ghia's weren't the only ones. Besides the Beetles you had your Type-3 Squarebacks, with the pancake motors... HOLLEY Yeah. Okay, I get it--- MATER ... And before both of them, there's the Type-2 buses - my buddy Fillmore's one of them. 36. HOLLEY Listen! We should find somewhere more private. MATER Uh, gee. Don't you think that's a little, uh --- HOLLEY (NERVOUS ENERGY) You're right. Impossible to know which areas here are compromised. So, when can I see you again? MATER Well, let's see. Tomorrow I'll be out there at the races. HOLLEY Got it. We'll rendezvous then. INT. PARTY - MOMENTS LATER Mater returns to his team, lost in thought. MCQUEEN There you are. Where have you been? MATER What's a rendezvous? LUIGI It's like a date. MATER A date?! MCQUEEN Mater, what's going on? MATER Well, what's going on is I've got me a date tomorrow. Guido makes a crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido don't believe you. MATER Well, believe it. My new girlfriend just said so. Hey, there she is. Mater points out Holley, who's within earshot. 37. MATER (YELLING) Hey! Hey lady! Holley, caught in plain view, DRIVES OFF. MATER See ya tomorrow! Guido makes another crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido still don't believe you. EXT. SHIPYARD - THE DOCKS - TOKYO NIGHT An industrial dock, outside of the city proper. INT. SHIPYARD - NIGHT Rod Redline dangles from a car magnet. He's been beaten up, clings to consciousness. GREM (O.S.) I gotta admit --- Grem, Acer, and a bunch of nasty looking troublemakers look up at Rod amidst crates and shipping containers. GREM --- you tricked us real good. ACER And we don't like being tricked. Rod Redline laughs to himself. ACER Hey, what's so funny? ROD REDLINE Well, you know, I was just wearing a disguise. You guys are stuck looking like that. This doesn't help him. They DROP HIM onto a TREADMILL, lock him down. A container is wheeled forward and Rod is plied with Allinol brand gasoline. ROD REDLINE Allinol? Thanks, fellas. I hear this stuff is good for you. 38. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (O.S.) So you think. The Professor emerges from the darkness, behind Rod. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Allinol by itself is good for you. Zundapp hits a button and the TREADMILL starts Rod's wheels spinning at a high rate of speed. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP But after microscopic examination, I have found that it has one small weakness. When hit with an electromagnetic pulse, it becomes extremely dangerous. GREM SMILE --- Grem pushes a World Grand Prix CAMERA - the same one that was in the box back at the oil derrick. He points it at Rod Redline. GREM --- for the camera. ROD REDLINE Is that all you want? I got a whole act. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You were very interested in this camera on the oil platform. Now you will witness what it really does. ROD REDLINE Whatever you say, Professor. Acer pushes a TV MONITOR toward Rod. On it, surveillance footage from the party. Clearly, they were watching and recording him there. ACER You talked up a lot of cars last night. Which one's your associate? ROD REDLINE Your mother. Oh no, I'm sorry. It was your sister. You know, I can't tell them apart these days. 39. GREM (HAD ENOUGH) Could I start it now, Professor? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Fifty percent power. (to Rod Redline) This camera is actually an electromagnetic pulse emitter. ACER (re: a girl on the TV) What about her? Did you give it to her? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The Allinol is now heating to a boil, dramatically expanding, causing the engine block to crack under the stress, forcing oil into the combustion chamber. Rod Redline's engine starts to CRACK and BREAK. ACER (re: a guy on the TV) How about him? You talk to him? ROD REDLINE (to Professor Zundapp) What do I care? I can replace an engine block. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You may be able to, but after full impact of the pulse, unfortunately, there will be nothing to replace. ACER How about him? Does he have it? The monitor reveals MATER, rolling out of the bathroom and down the hall. Rod Redline, seeing this, does the world's most subtle double take. We caught it, but there's no way anyone else in the room could have --- PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP That's him. He's the one. GREM Roger that, Professor Z. 40. ROD REDLINE No! As Grem turns up the machine even MORE, the Professor makes a call. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (INTO PHONE) Yes sir. We believe the infiltrator has passed along sensitive information. (beat, listening) I will take care of it before any damage can be done. The Professor hangs up, turns to the room. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The project is still on schedule. You will find this second agent --- Zundapp kicks the camera's power into the RED. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP --- and kill him. On the MONITOR - With Mater's frozen image on the screen we see Rod EXPLODE in the reflection. EXT. JAPAN - DAY Over television pre-roll of Japan: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Japan. Land of the rising sun. Where ancient tradition meets modern technology. Welcome to the inaugural running of the World Grand Prix. ON OUR ANNOUNCERS as they introduce themselves: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER I'm Brent Mustangburger, here with racing legends Darrell Cartrip and David Hobbscap. There's never been a competition like this before. SHOTS OF THE PITS as the racers fuel up. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) First, Allinol, making its debut tonight as the required fuel for all these great champions. (MORE) 41. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) (CONT'D) Second, the course itself, and it's like nothing we've ever seen. David, how exactly does this competition work? DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Well, Brent, all three of these street courses are classic round- the-house racetracks. OUTLINES OF THREE RACE COURSES are shown. They're labeled Japan, Italy and England, and are different in shape and size. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) This means that the LMP and Formula cars should break out of the gate in spectacular fashion. SHOTS OF THE RACERS as they weave up the track, practicing. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Look for Francesco Bernoulli in particular to lead early. SHOTS OF Francesco, featured in an inset. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) And with a series of technical turns throughout --- MORE SHOTS of the course, now highlighting the tech turns. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) GT and Touring cars like Spain's Miguel Camino should make up some ground but I doubt it'll be enough to stop Francesco from absolutely running away with it. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Woah, now just hold your horsepower. You're forgetting the most important factor here. That early dirt track section of the course! The dirt is supposed to be the great equalizer in this race. GRAPHICS OF THE COURSES now isolate a stretch after the first couple turns, label it "DIRT SECTIONS." 42. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) French Rally car Raoul aRoule is counting on a big boost headed through there. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) And don't forget Lightning McQueen! His mentor, the Hudson Hornet, was one of the greatest dirt track racers of all time. In my opinion, McQueen is the best all-around racer in this competition. BACK IN THE STUDIO DAVID HOBBSCAP Really, Darrell, I think you need to clean your windshield. You're clearly not seeing this for what it is: Francesco's race to lose. EXT. STARTING LINE - DAY BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) It's time to find out. The racers are locking into the grid --- Engines rev as everyone gets ready to go. Everyone's bright eyed and alert except for McQueen who we find in the back of the grid. He CLOSES his eyes. MCQUEEN (TO HIMSELF) Speed. I am speed. A LAUGH O.S. McQueen opens his eyes. Francesco is next to him on the grid. FRANCESCO Really? You are "speed"? Then Francesco is triple speed. (closes his eyes) Francesco. Is. Triple speed. Francesco likes this, McQueen. It's really getting him into the zone! MCQUEEN He is so getting beat today. The starting lights click down from RED to YELLOW to GREEN. The race begins. Francesco quickly grabs the lead. He's pulling away within seconds. 43. ON PIT ROW - We TRACK PAST as the various Crew Chiefs on their crash carts bark orders to their racers. We end on Team McQueen. No Crew Chief, just a solid looking team. SARGE His suspension stats look good. LUIGI Tire pressure is excellent. FILLMORE He's got plenty of fuel. MATER And he's awesome! CUT TO: The same view of Mater but now THROUGH A TELESCOPIC DISPLAY. Reveal Finn and Holley watching from high above in a downtown office building, behind reflective glass. HOLLEY Why is he in the pits? He's so exposed. FINN It's his cover. One of the best I've seen, too. Look at the detail on that rust. It must have cost him a fortune. HOLLEY But why hasn't he contacted us yet? FINN There's probably heat on him. Be patient. HOLLEY Right, of course. He'll signal us when he can. FINN And then we find out who's behind all this. ON THE TRACK - VARIOUS SHOTS OF THE RACE through Tokyo as Francesco extends his lead and McQueen attempts to make up ground. 44. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - Mater watches the monitors, sees them approaching the dirt section. MATER McQueen! It's time to make your move. Get on the outside and show 'em what Doc done taught you. MCQUEEN (OVER RADIO) Ten four, Mater. ON THE TRACK - Francesco hits the dirt section and loses all control. He SLAMS to a halt, his tires getting no traction. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Francesco is brought to a screeching halt! MCQUEEN skids into view, turning right to go left, passing Francesco, followed by other cars --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Lightning McQueen is the first to take advantage. And just like that, folks, Francesco's lead is left in the dust. MCQUEEN Nice call, Mater. Keep it up! McQueen now leads the pack, zooming out of the dirt now starting to relax. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Who-hoo! Man, McQueen looks happier than a rollbar at a demolition derby! ON PAVED ROAD AGAIN - MOMENTS LATER The field of cars thunders into a tunnel. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Everyone's jostling for position as we hit the asphalt again. Francesco crests the hill, in last place. He bites down, determined, then CHASES. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco lost a lot of momentum in the dirt. He's got some serious work ahead of him if he wants to get back in this race. 45. VARIOUS SHOTS OF TOKYO as the racers move through the Rainbow Bridge. Bit by bit, Francesco ekes his way toward the front, toward Lightning McQueen as we CUT TO --- --- A ROOFTOP, and a VIEW THROUGH THE WGP CAMERA LENS. Grem and Acer are manning this one. They focus it on the racers as they approach. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (OVER RADIO) It is time. GREM Roger that. ON THE TRACK - A racer (Miguel Camino) suddenly PLUMES WITH SMOKE and skids out. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Oh! Miguel Camino has blown an engine! BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Very unusual, Darrell. He's been so consistent all year. Camino quickly pits, passing McQueen's pit where Mater is visible. ON GREM AND ACER, watching from above. GREM You gotta be kidding me. ACER What is it? GREM It's that tow truck from the bathroom. ACER The one from the bathroom? GREM Yeah, the one the American Agent passed the device to. ACER What about him? GREM What about him? He's in the pits! 46. ACER Not for long. Acer exits, with purpose. ON FINN AND HOLLEY, still in their office hideaway. Holley's onboard computer flashes an ALERT. HOLLEY Hold on. I think I've got something. FINN What is it? HOLLEY The Pacer from the party last night. She's spotted Acer, moving swiftly forward. HOLLEY Cross-referencing with the photos from the oil derricks... Yep. His VIN numbers match. FINN Anyone with him? He won't be alone. HOLLEY Conducting analysis on the target. The computer finds more and more bad guy Pacers and Gremlins are in the crowd. HOLLEY He's not the only one here. Three... five... they're everywhere. And they're all closing in on... oh no. We PAN OVER to see it's MATER. HOLLEY Finn? Finn, where are you? She turns. He's GONE, leaving only an open window. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of the pits now! IN MCQUEEN'S PIT. A car WHIPS BY O.S. 47. MATER Wow! Some of them fellers is really loud. HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Can you hear me? Over. MATER Uh, what? HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Get out of the pit now. Do you hear me? Mater realizes this girl has somehow broken into his radio. MATER (INTO RADIO) Hey, I know you. You're that girl from the party last night. You wanna do our date right now? ON THE TRACK - McQueen boxes out Francesco, holds his slim lead, but barely. MCQUEEN Guys, a little too much chatter. Let's keep this line clear. BOOM! A racer behind McQueen suddenly expels black smoke, skids out of control. ON GREM - laughing. That was clearly his handiwork. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - SAME HOLLEY (ON MATER'S RADIO) There's no time for messing about. You've got to get out of the pits. MATER Is there gonna be cable where you is so I can watch the rest of the race? ON HOLLEY - Watching from the downtown building. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) You're running out of time! FINN (OVER RADIO) They're coming, Shiftwell. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Yes, I know. 48. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of there. HOLLEY (TO FINN) I'm trying. (TO MATER) Get out now! We CUT BACK TO --- --- MATER. He gives in, exits the pit. MATER Well, all right but I usually like to have a proper detailing done before I meet a lady friend. He moves toward the back PIT DOOR, is about to open it. OUTSIDE THE PITS - ACER and another Pacer approach McQueen's pit door on the other side. Ready to pounce. The doors OPEN, REVEALING --- --- Finn, holding a fire extinguisher. ACER Finn McMissile? But you're dead! FINN Then this shouldn't hurt at all. He empties the extinguisher in their eyes, speeds past. They try and follow, but have been blinded. One of them crashes right into a COP. ON FINN - Already on the move, along a side street. FINN Miss Shiftwell? ON HOLLEY - Tracking everything on a grid map. Mater looks like Pac Man, weaving through the streets as bad guys close in all around him. HOLLEY I've got him in the back alleys east of the garages. Multiple assailants are closing in quickly. FINN (OVER RADIO) Keep him moving. I'm on my way. ON MATER - He turns a corner, sees a flower shop. 49. MATER Hey, new lady friend? You like flowers? ON THE TRACK - McQueen, hearing this, is taken aback. MCQUEEN What? ON MATER - Slowing at the flower shop. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go 'in' anywhere. Just keep moving. MATER Stay outside. Gotcha. ON THE TRACK MCQUEEN Outside? McQueen drifts outside allowing Francesco to slip past! FRANCESCO Grazie and arrivaderci! DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) I cannot believe what I just saw, Brent. That was a bonehead move. You don't open up the inside like that! IN THE BACK ALLEYS - As Mater moves on he's followed by Pacers and Gremlins. Suddenly --- --- CABLES whip in front of them, pulling over flower vending machines and sending the shop's owners into a frenzy. They direct their attention to the AMCs, who try and explain. ON FINN, admiring his handiwork as he appears. Just as he turns to leave he's BROADSIDED and pushed INTO A DARK ALLEY. IN THE ALLEY - Finn finds himself boxed by two Pacers and pushed toward --- --- ACER, who now holds a FLAME THROWER. ACER This time I'm gonna make sure you stay dead. He hits the flame. WHOOOSSSH!! 50. ON ANOTHER STREET - Mater clicks along, still looking for Holley. Just as he passes the alley entrance where Finn stares down death: HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) You're doing brilliantly. Now just stay focused. MATER What's that? You want me to head toward that ruckus? Mater turns INTO the alley. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go down that street! IN THE ALLEY - Finn, now nearly pushed completely into the flame thrower, leaps into the air. He FIGHTS BACK, using his wheels, axle, indeed his entire car frame as if he were human, kicking and tossing and shooting his enemies. Mater witnesses the whole thing. MATER Wow! A live karate demonstration! ON THE TRACK - McQueen, now playing catch-up again, scowls. MCQUEEN Stop it, Mater. Just sign off. IN THE BACK ALLEY - Finn polishes off the AMCs by firing a bullet into a gas main line, causing an EXPLOSION that tosses Acer through the air where he lands in a NOODLE SHOP'S SIGN. ON THE TRACK - The end of the race is nigh --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) They're bumper to bumper as they approach the finish line! The Formula car gets there first. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco's the winner, McQueen's number two! IN THE ALLEY - Finn heaves breaths, surveys his damage. MATER That was cool! Hey, can I get your autograph? 51. Mater approaches when a MASS OF RACE FANS burst out a door, momentarily blocking Mater's view of Finn. Once the fans have past, Finn has disappeared. MATER Hey, where'd he go? HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) Our rendezvous has been jeopardized. Keep the device safe. We'll be in touch. MATER Dadgum, did I miss our date? EXT. PRESS STAGE - LATER Post race press conference. Francesco is center stage. DARRELL CARTRIP Francesco, over here! Hey, what was your strategy today? FRANCESCO Strategia? Francesco needs no strategy, it's very simple. You start the race, wait for Lightning McQueen to choke, pass him, then win. Francesco always wins. It's boring. McQueen, waiting in the wings, rolls his eyes. He suddenly notices something O.S. McQueen's P.O.V. - It's MATER, appearing from a side street, moving toward the pits, oblivious of the press conference. DARRELL CARTRIP (TO FRANCESCO) I gotta tell you, dude. You were in trouble for awhile. That dirt track section had you crawling! As McQueen SNEAKS AWAY --- FRANCESCO To truly crush one's dream, you must first raise their hopes very high. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT GARAGE - Mater looks around for everyone as McQueen approaches. 52. MCQUEEN Mater. MATER Hey McQueen! What happened? Is the race over? You won, right? MCQUEEN Mater, why were you yelling things at me while I was racing? MATER Yelling? Oh, you thought... that's funny right there. Nah, see that's `cause I seen these two fellers doing some sort of karate street performance. It was nutso. One of them even had a flamethrower --- MCQUEEN A flamethrower? What are you talking about? I don't understand. Where were you? MATER Going to meet my date. MCQUEEN Your date? MATER She started talking to me as a voice in my head, telling me where to go --- MCQUEEN What? MATER Wait a minute -- I didn't screw you up, did I? MCQUEEN I lost the race because of you! MATER Well, I'm sorry. I didn't mean --- MCQUEEN An imaginary girlfriend, flamethrowers. This is exactly why I don't bring you along to these things. 53. MATER Maybe if I, I don't know, talked to somebody and explained what happened I could help. MCQUEEN I don't need your help. I don't want your help. PRESS (O.S.) Hey, there he is!! The press finds McQueen, swarms him. Mater is pushed backwards as the questions fly again. PRESS - McQueen, you had it in the bag! - Yeah, what happened? MCQUEEN I made a mistake. But I can assure you, it won't happen again. On Mater. He takes this badly. MCQUEEN Look, guys. We know what the problem is and we've taken care of it. SMASH TO: OVER FOOTAGE OF FRANCESCO and various other highlights: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER Lightning McQueen loses in the last lap to Francesco Bernoulli in the first race of the World Grand Prix and three, count em, three cars

boil

How many times the word 'boil' appears in the text?

Finn. Meet HOLLEY SHIFTWELL. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. FINN That's because it's air-cooled. HOLLEY I'm Agent Shiftwell, Holley Shiftwell from the Tokyo Station. I have a message from London. FINN Not here. (LOUDLY) You must try the canapes on the mezzanine! He moves her onto an elevator. The doors close on them. IN THE ELEVATOR, GOING UP. FINN So the lab boys analyzed the photo I sent? What did they learn about the camera? HOLLEY It appears to be a standard television camera. They said if you could get closer photos next time, that would be great. FINN This was London's message? 27. HOLLEY Oh -- no, no. No sir. Um, the oil platforms you were on? Turns out they're sitting on the biggest oil reserve in the world. FINN How did we miss that? HOLLEY They'd been scrambling everyone's satellites. The Americans actually discovered it just before you did. They placed an agent on that platform, under deep cover. He was able to get a photo of the car who's running the entire operation. The doors OPEN and they exit onto the Mezzanine. FINN Who is it? Has anyone seen the photo yet? HOLLEY No, not yet. The American is here tonight to pass it to you. He'll signal you when he's ready. FINN GOOD --- Finn suddenly STOPS COLD. FINN Oh no. Professor Zundapp is visible below them. He talks with a few Pacers and Gremlins. Finn quickly retreats into the shadows. Holley follows suit. HOLLEY What is it? FINN Change of plan. You're meeting the American. HOLLEY What, me? 28. FINN Those thugs down there were on the oil platform. If they see me, the whole mission is compromised. HOLLEY No, no. I'm technical, you see. I'm in Diagnostics. I'm not a field agent. FINN You are now. CUT TO: MATER as he grabs a drink, keeps moving. MATER I'll take one of them. He snatches it, drops it in the back where we now see a large assortment of drinks balanced. MATER Never know which one McQueen'll have a hankering for. He approaches a sushi bar. MATER Hey, what you got here that's free? How about that pistachio ice cream? He refers to wasabi, of course. SUSHI CHEF No, no. Wasabi. MATER Oh, same ol', same ol'. What's up with you? That looks delicious. The chef starts to carve a small scoop aside for Mater. MATER Uh, a little more, please. It is free, right? (the chef adds more) Keep it coming. A little more. Come on, let's go, it's free! You're getting there... Scoop scoop! The chef gives in. Scoops a baseball-sized ball out. 29. MATER There you go. Now THAT's a scoop of ice cream. SUSHI CHEF (in Japanese, subtitles) My condolences. CUT BACK TO: MILES AXLEROD - He's now nearly done with his intros. MILES AXLEROD ... and now, our last competitor --- Number 95, Lightning McQueen! MCQUEEN approaches the microphone, flashes his headlights. MCQUEEN Thank you so much for having us, Sir Axlerod. I really look forward to racing. This is a great opportunity. MILES AXLEROD Oh, the pleasure is all ours, Lightning. You and your team bring excellence and professionalism to this competition. As if on cue, Mater arrives with a piercing scream of pain. Everyone turns as he charges head first toward the stage, making a bee-line for that FOUNTAIN. MATER Somebody get me water! He laps up water from the fountain like a diabetic cat. MATER (LAPPING WATER) Sweet relief... Miles Axlerod is shocked. The crowd can't believe it. Francesco cackles. Mater, now sated, approaches the mic. MATER (to the crowd) Whatever you do, do not eat the free pistachio ice cream. It has turned! MCQUEEN Sir Axlerod, I can explain. This is Mater. 30. MILES AXLEROD I know him. This is the bloke that called into the television show. (TO MATER) You're the one I have to thank. MATER No, thank you. This trip's been amazing. MILES AXLEROD (TO MCQUEEN) He's a little excited, isn't he? TILT DOWN to reveal a pool of oil beneath Mater. MCQUEEN Mater! MATER But wait, I... oh, shoot. McQueen quickly pulls Mater aside, out of earshot of Miles Axlerod and the others. McQueen is beside himself. MCQUEEN Mater, you have to get a hold of yourself. You're making a scene. MATER But I never leak oil. Never. MCQUEEN Go take care of yourself right now. Mater drives off. ON MATER - MOMENTS LATER He drives through the party, frantic. MATER Coming through! Excuse me, leakin' oil. Where's the bathroom? Thank you. I gotta go! Someone points Mater down a hallway. He whips around the CORNER --- --- and STOPS. Finds himself in front of TWO BATHROOM DOORS, neither of which clearly indicate MALE or FEMALE. 31. MATER (CONFUSED) What the... Mater chooses one, drives inside. A SHRIEK is heard and Mater zips out. MATER Sorry ladies! He heads into the other door --- CUT TO: INT. MEN'S ROOM - NIGHT Mater rolls in, still `holding it in' like a kid. MATER I never leak I never leak I never leak... He sees someone leaving a stall. He heads in. IN THE STALL - Mater enters, looks up. MATER Wowee... The stall is a complicated apparatus with buttons and lights. High-tech Japanese. It suddenly GRABS MATER, hoists him up as if he's going to get an oil change. MATER What in the--- A Japanese style cartoon CARICATURE appears on a TV MONITOR, followed by images of waterfalls and rivers. MATER (GIGGLING) Hey, that tickles. The caricature starts talking in Japanese. Suddenly WATER FIRES UP underneath Mater's undercarriage, goosing him. He freaks out. OUTSIDE THE STALL - With Mater's yells audible we see a GREMLIN enter, furtive. Suddenly, inexplicably, his frame BREAKS APART like an egg, revealing an AMERICAN MUSCLE CAR underneath. The pieces of the Gremlin disappear under him, clearly his disguise. This is ROD REDLINE - American Agent. 32. ROD REDLINE Okay, McMissile. I'm here. It's time for the drop. INT. PARTY - SAME HOLLEY, rolls along by herself. Nervous. DING! Her rearview monitor springs to life. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) The American has activated his tracking beacon. FINN (OVER RADIO) Roger that. Move in. INT. BATHROOM - SAME Rod Redline, waiting at a sink, feels a presence behind him. GREM and ACER have entered, hesitate briefly when they see Rod Redline. Rod Redline, careful, slides a gun out of his tire. He is suddenly CHARGED by the AMCs --- Rod SPINS AROUND and gets a shot off but is SLAMMED HEAD FIRST. A TIGHT, CLOSE-QUARTERS FIGHT begins --- IN THE STALL - Mater, still TRAPPED, is now being SCRUBBED as if in a car wash. He is helpless. OUTSIDE THE STALL - Rod is being pulverized. Just when he scrambles away from one car, the other one takes over. IN THE STALL - Mater is mercifully released, but when he backs out --- --- Rod Redline is THROWN INTO MATER'S STALL DOOR, crunching it and sending Mater --- --- BACK INTO THE CLUTCHES of the insane toilet. INT. PARTY - SAME Holley isolates the tracking beacon's location in the party. HOLLEY Oh, you've got to be joking. FINN What's the problem, Shiftwell? HOLLEY He's in the loo. 33. FINN So go in! HOLLEY I can't just go into the men's loo. FINN Time is of the essence, Shiftwell. INT. BATHROOM - OUTSIDE THE STALL Rod Redline is in bad shape. He backs away, betrays a look of concern. He's in trouble here. ACER burns rubber, ready to finish him off. Just as he shifts into DRIVE --- --- MATER'S STALL DOOR KICKS OPEN, knocking ACER out. Mater jumps out, face-to-face GREM. MATER (out of breath) Whatever you do, I would not go in there. The door SWINGS shut, revealing the pulverized Acer. MATER A Gremlin and a Pacer! Rod Redline, now behind Mater and sensing an opportunity here, quickly produces A SMALL DEVICE. MATER (to Grem and Acer) No offense to your makes and models, but you guys break down harder than my cousin Betsy after she got left at the --- Rod Redline, surreptitiously attaches the device to Mater's undercarriage. MATER (as he's goosed) --- altar! He spins around, sees Rod Redline for the first time. MATER Are you okay? ROD REDLINE I'm fine. 34. GREM Hey. Tow truck. Mater turns back to Grem and Acer. GREM We'd like to get to our private business here, if you don't mind. MATER Oh, yeah. Don't let me get in the way of your "private business." Oh! A little advice: When you hear her giggle and see that waterfall, you best press that green button. GREM Thank you. MATER It's to adjust the temperature. ACER Got it. MATER Remember it's in Celsius, not Fahrenheit. GREM AND ACER Get outta here! MATER Alright then. Mater exits, leaving Rod Redline to a now even angrier Grem and Acer. EXT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER Holley arrives at the door. She takes a breath, is about to enter when Mater EXITS. MATER Excuse me, ma'am. He passes her, expelling some exhaust in the process. Holley's rearview tracking confirms that the device is on him. MATER (TO HIMSELF) Dadgum pistachio ice cream. 35. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) This cannot be him. FINN (OVER RADIO) Is he American? MATER (driving off, to himself) Look out, ladies. Mater's fittin' to get funky! HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Extremely. FINN (OVER RADIO) Then it's him. It's settled. Holley takes one more nervous breath, quickly closes the distance between her and Mater, cuts him off. He is forced to STOP. HOLLEY Hello. MATER Well, hello. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. MATER Well of course it doesn't. That's `cause it's air-cooled! HOLLEY (RELIEVED) Perfect. I'm from the Tokyo Station OF THE--- MATER Course, Karmann Ghia's weren't the only ones. Besides the Beetles you had your Type-3 Squarebacks, with the pancake motors... HOLLEY Yeah. Okay, I get it--- MATER ... And before both of them, there's the Type-2 buses - my buddy Fillmore's one of them. 36. HOLLEY Listen! We should find somewhere more private. MATER Uh, gee. Don't you think that's a little, uh --- HOLLEY (NERVOUS ENERGY) You're right. Impossible to know which areas here are compromised. So, when can I see you again? MATER Well, let's see. Tomorrow I'll be out there at the races. HOLLEY Got it. We'll rendezvous then. INT. PARTY - MOMENTS LATER Mater returns to his team, lost in thought. MCQUEEN There you are. Where have you been? MATER What's a rendezvous? LUIGI It's like a date. MATER A date?! MCQUEEN Mater, what's going on? MATER Well, what's going on is I've got me a date tomorrow. Guido makes a crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido don't believe you. MATER Well, believe it. My new girlfriend just said so. Hey, there she is. Mater points out Holley, who's within earshot. 37. MATER (YELLING) Hey! Hey lady! Holley, caught in plain view, DRIVES OFF. MATER See ya tomorrow! Guido makes another crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido still don't believe you. EXT. SHIPYARD - THE DOCKS - TOKYO NIGHT An industrial dock, outside of the city proper. INT. SHIPYARD - NIGHT Rod Redline dangles from a car magnet. He's been beaten up, clings to consciousness. GREM (O.S.) I gotta admit --- Grem, Acer, and a bunch of nasty looking troublemakers look up at Rod amidst crates and shipping containers. GREM --- you tricked us real good. ACER And we don't like being tricked. Rod Redline laughs to himself. ACER Hey, what's so funny? ROD REDLINE Well, you know, I was just wearing a disguise. You guys are stuck looking like that. This doesn't help him. They DROP HIM onto a TREADMILL, lock him down. A container is wheeled forward and Rod is plied with Allinol brand gasoline. ROD REDLINE Allinol? Thanks, fellas. I hear this stuff is good for you. 38. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (O.S.) So you think. The Professor emerges from the darkness, behind Rod. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Allinol by itself is good for you. Zundapp hits a button and the TREADMILL starts Rod's wheels spinning at a high rate of speed. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP But after microscopic examination, I have found that it has one small weakness. When hit with an electromagnetic pulse, it becomes extremely dangerous. GREM SMILE --- Grem pushes a World Grand Prix CAMERA - the same one that was in the box back at the oil derrick. He points it at Rod Redline. GREM --- for the camera. ROD REDLINE Is that all you want? I got a whole act. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You were very interested in this camera on the oil platform. Now you will witness what it really does. ROD REDLINE Whatever you say, Professor. Acer pushes a TV MONITOR toward Rod. On it, surveillance footage from the party. Clearly, they were watching and recording him there. ACER You talked up a lot of cars last night. Which one's your associate? ROD REDLINE Your mother. Oh no, I'm sorry. It was your sister. You know, I can't tell them apart these days. 39. GREM (HAD ENOUGH) Could I start it now, Professor? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Fifty percent power. (to Rod Redline) This camera is actually an electromagnetic pulse emitter. ACER (re: a girl on the TV) What about her? Did you give it to her? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The Allinol is now heating to a boil, dramatically expanding, causing the engine block to crack under the stress, forcing oil into the combustion chamber. Rod Redline's engine starts to CRACK and BREAK. ACER (re: a guy on the TV) How about him? You talk to him? ROD REDLINE (to Professor Zundapp) What do I care? I can replace an engine block. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You may be able to, but after full impact of the pulse, unfortunately, there will be nothing to replace. ACER How about him? Does he have it? The monitor reveals MATER, rolling out of the bathroom and down the hall. Rod Redline, seeing this, does the world's most subtle double take. We caught it, but there's no way anyone else in the room could have --- PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP That's him. He's the one. GREM Roger that, Professor Z. 40. ROD REDLINE No! As Grem turns up the machine even MORE, the Professor makes a call. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (INTO PHONE) Yes sir. We believe the infiltrator has passed along sensitive information. (beat, listening) I will take care of it before any damage can be done. The Professor hangs up, turns to the room. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The project is still on schedule. You will find this second agent --- Zundapp kicks the camera's power into the RED. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP --- and kill him. On the MONITOR - With Mater's frozen image on the screen we see Rod EXPLODE in the reflection. EXT. JAPAN - DAY Over television pre-roll of Japan: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Japan. Land of the rising sun. Where ancient tradition meets modern technology. Welcome to the inaugural running of the World Grand Prix. ON OUR ANNOUNCERS as they introduce themselves: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER I'm Brent Mustangburger, here with racing legends Darrell Cartrip and David Hobbscap. There's never been a competition like this before. SHOTS OF THE PITS as the racers fuel up. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) First, Allinol, making its debut tonight as the required fuel for all these great champions. (MORE) 41. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) (CONT'D) Second, the course itself, and it's like nothing we've ever seen. David, how exactly does this competition work? DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Well, Brent, all three of these street courses are classic round- the-house racetracks. OUTLINES OF THREE RACE COURSES are shown. They're labeled Japan, Italy and England, and are different in shape and size. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) This means that the LMP and Formula cars should break out of the gate in spectacular fashion. SHOTS OF THE RACERS as they weave up the track, practicing. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Look for Francesco Bernoulli in particular to lead early. SHOTS OF Francesco, featured in an inset. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) And with a series of technical turns throughout --- MORE SHOTS of the course, now highlighting the tech turns. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) GT and Touring cars like Spain's Miguel Camino should make up some ground but I doubt it'll be enough to stop Francesco from absolutely running away with it. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Woah, now just hold your horsepower. You're forgetting the most important factor here. That early dirt track section of the course! The dirt is supposed to be the great equalizer in this race. GRAPHICS OF THE COURSES now isolate a stretch after the first couple turns, label it "DIRT SECTIONS." 42. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) French Rally car Raoul aRoule is counting on a big boost headed through there. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) And don't forget Lightning McQueen! His mentor, the Hudson Hornet, was one of the greatest dirt track racers of all time. In my opinion, McQueen is the best all-around racer in this competition. BACK IN THE STUDIO DAVID HOBBSCAP Really, Darrell, I think you need to clean your windshield. You're clearly not seeing this for what it is: Francesco's race to lose. EXT. STARTING LINE - DAY BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) It's time to find out. The racers are locking into the grid --- Engines rev as everyone gets ready to go. Everyone's bright eyed and alert except for McQueen who we find in the back of the grid. He CLOSES his eyes. MCQUEEN (TO HIMSELF) Speed. I am speed. A LAUGH O.S. McQueen opens his eyes. Francesco is next to him on the grid. FRANCESCO Really? You are "speed"? Then Francesco is triple speed. (closes his eyes) Francesco. Is. Triple speed. Francesco likes this, McQueen. It's really getting him into the zone! MCQUEEN He is so getting beat today. The starting lights click down from RED to YELLOW to GREEN. The race begins. Francesco quickly grabs the lead. He's pulling away within seconds. 43. ON PIT ROW - We TRACK PAST as the various Crew Chiefs on their crash carts bark orders to their racers. We end on Team McQueen. No Crew Chief, just a solid looking team. SARGE His suspension stats look good. LUIGI Tire pressure is excellent. FILLMORE He's got plenty of fuel. MATER And he's awesome! CUT TO: The same view of Mater but now THROUGH A TELESCOPIC DISPLAY. Reveal Finn and Holley watching from high above in a downtown office building, behind reflective glass. HOLLEY Why is he in the pits? He's so exposed. FINN It's his cover. One of the best I've seen, too. Look at the detail on that rust. It must have cost him a fortune. HOLLEY But why hasn't he contacted us yet? FINN There's probably heat on him. Be patient. HOLLEY Right, of course. He'll signal us when he can. FINN And then we find out who's behind all this. ON THE TRACK - VARIOUS SHOTS OF THE RACE through Tokyo as Francesco extends his lead and McQueen attempts to make up ground. 44. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - Mater watches the monitors, sees them approaching the dirt section. MATER McQueen! It's time to make your move. Get on the outside and show 'em what Doc done taught you. MCQUEEN (OVER RADIO) Ten four, Mater. ON THE TRACK - Francesco hits the dirt section and loses all control. He SLAMS to a halt, his tires getting no traction. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Francesco is brought to a screeching halt! MCQUEEN skids into view, turning right to go left, passing Francesco, followed by other cars --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Lightning McQueen is the first to take advantage. And just like that, folks, Francesco's lead is left in the dust. MCQUEEN Nice call, Mater. Keep it up! McQueen now leads the pack, zooming out of the dirt now starting to relax. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Who-hoo! Man, McQueen looks happier than a rollbar at a demolition derby! ON PAVED ROAD AGAIN - MOMENTS LATER The field of cars thunders into a tunnel. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Everyone's jostling for position as we hit the asphalt again. Francesco crests the hill, in last place. He bites down, determined, then CHASES. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco lost a lot of momentum in the dirt. He's got some serious work ahead of him if he wants to get back in this race. 45. VARIOUS SHOTS OF TOKYO as the racers move through the Rainbow Bridge. Bit by bit, Francesco ekes his way toward the front, toward Lightning McQueen as we CUT TO --- --- A ROOFTOP, and a VIEW THROUGH THE WGP CAMERA LENS. Grem and Acer are manning this one. They focus it on the racers as they approach. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (OVER RADIO) It is time. GREM Roger that. ON THE TRACK - A racer (Miguel Camino) suddenly PLUMES WITH SMOKE and skids out. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Oh! Miguel Camino has blown an engine! BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Very unusual, Darrell. He's been so consistent all year. Camino quickly pits, passing McQueen's pit where Mater is visible. ON GREM AND ACER, watching from above. GREM You gotta be kidding me. ACER What is it? GREM It's that tow truck from the bathroom. ACER The one from the bathroom? GREM Yeah, the one the American Agent passed the device to. ACER What about him? GREM What about him? He's in the pits! 46. ACER Not for long. Acer exits, with purpose. ON FINN AND HOLLEY, still in their office hideaway. Holley's onboard computer flashes an ALERT. HOLLEY Hold on. I think I've got something. FINN What is it? HOLLEY The Pacer from the party last night. She's spotted Acer, moving swiftly forward. HOLLEY Cross-referencing with the photos from the oil derricks... Yep. His VIN numbers match. FINN Anyone with him? He won't be alone. HOLLEY Conducting analysis on the target. The computer finds more and more bad guy Pacers and Gremlins are in the crowd. HOLLEY He's not the only one here. Three... five... they're everywhere. And they're all closing in on... oh no. We PAN OVER to see it's MATER. HOLLEY Finn? Finn, where are you? She turns. He's GONE, leaving only an open window. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of the pits now! IN MCQUEEN'S PIT. A car WHIPS BY O.S. 47. MATER Wow! Some of them fellers is really loud. HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Can you hear me? Over. MATER Uh, what? HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Get out of the pit now. Do you hear me? Mater realizes this girl has somehow broken into his radio. MATER (INTO RADIO) Hey, I know you. You're that girl from the party last night. You wanna do our date right now? ON THE TRACK - McQueen boxes out Francesco, holds his slim lead, but barely. MCQUEEN Guys, a little too much chatter. Let's keep this line clear. BOOM! A racer behind McQueen suddenly expels black smoke, skids out of control. ON GREM - laughing. That was clearly his handiwork. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - SAME HOLLEY (ON MATER'S RADIO) There's no time for messing about. You've got to get out of the pits. MATER Is there gonna be cable where you is so I can watch the rest of the race? ON HOLLEY - Watching from the downtown building. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) You're running out of time! FINN (OVER RADIO) They're coming, Shiftwell. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Yes, I know. 48. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of there. HOLLEY (TO FINN) I'm trying. (TO MATER) Get out now! We CUT BACK TO --- --- MATER. He gives in, exits the pit. MATER Well, all right but I usually like to have a proper detailing done before I meet a lady friend. He moves toward the back PIT DOOR, is about to open it. OUTSIDE THE PITS - ACER and another Pacer approach McQueen's pit door on the other side. Ready to pounce. The doors OPEN, REVEALING --- --- Finn, holding a fire extinguisher. ACER Finn McMissile? But you're dead! FINN Then this shouldn't hurt at all. He empties the extinguisher in their eyes, speeds past. They try and follow, but have been blinded. One of them crashes right into a COP. ON FINN - Already on the move, along a side street. FINN Miss Shiftwell? ON HOLLEY - Tracking everything on a grid map. Mater looks like Pac Man, weaving through the streets as bad guys close in all around him. HOLLEY I've got him in the back alleys east of the garages. Multiple assailants are closing in quickly. FINN (OVER RADIO) Keep him moving. I'm on my way. ON MATER - He turns a corner, sees a flower shop. 49. MATER Hey, new lady friend? You like flowers? ON THE TRACK - McQueen, hearing this, is taken aback. MCQUEEN What? ON MATER - Slowing at the flower shop. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go 'in' anywhere. Just keep moving. MATER Stay outside. Gotcha. ON THE TRACK MCQUEEN Outside? McQueen drifts outside allowing Francesco to slip past! FRANCESCO Grazie and arrivaderci! DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) I cannot believe what I just saw, Brent. That was a bonehead move. You don't open up the inside like that! IN THE BACK ALLEYS - As Mater moves on he's followed by Pacers and Gremlins. Suddenly --- --- CABLES whip in front of them, pulling over flower vending machines and sending the shop's owners into a frenzy. They direct their attention to the AMCs, who try and explain. ON FINN, admiring his handiwork as he appears. Just as he turns to leave he's BROADSIDED and pushed INTO A DARK ALLEY. IN THE ALLEY - Finn finds himself boxed by two Pacers and pushed toward --- --- ACER, who now holds a FLAME THROWER. ACER This time I'm gonna make sure you stay dead. He hits the flame. WHOOOSSSH!! 50. ON ANOTHER STREET - Mater clicks along, still looking for Holley. Just as he passes the alley entrance where Finn stares down death: HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) You're doing brilliantly. Now just stay focused. MATER What's that? You want me to head toward that ruckus? Mater turns INTO the alley. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go down that street! IN THE ALLEY - Finn, now nearly pushed completely into the flame thrower, leaps into the air. He FIGHTS BACK, using his wheels, axle, indeed his entire car frame as if he were human, kicking and tossing and shooting his enemies. Mater witnesses the whole thing. MATER Wow! A live karate demonstration! ON THE TRACK - McQueen, now playing catch-up again, scowls. MCQUEEN Stop it, Mater. Just sign off. IN THE BACK ALLEY - Finn polishes off the AMCs by firing a bullet into a gas main line, causing an EXPLOSION that tosses Acer through the air where he lands in a NOODLE SHOP'S SIGN. ON THE TRACK - The end of the race is nigh --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) They're bumper to bumper as they approach the finish line! The Formula car gets there first. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco's the winner, McQueen's number two! IN THE ALLEY - Finn heaves breaths, surveys his damage. MATER That was cool! Hey, can I get your autograph? 51. Mater approaches when a MASS OF RACE FANS burst out a door, momentarily blocking Mater's view of Finn. Once the fans have past, Finn has disappeared. MATER Hey, where'd he go? HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) Our rendezvous has been jeopardized. Keep the device safe. We'll be in touch. MATER Dadgum, did I miss our date? EXT. PRESS STAGE - LATER Post race press conference. Francesco is center stage. DARRELL CARTRIP Francesco, over here! Hey, what was your strategy today? FRANCESCO Strategia? Francesco needs no strategy, it's very simple. You start the race, wait for Lightning McQueen to choke, pass him, then win. Francesco always wins. It's boring. McQueen, waiting in the wings, rolls his eyes. He suddenly notices something O.S. McQueen's P.O.V. - It's MATER, appearing from a side street, moving toward the pits, oblivious of the press conference. DARRELL CARTRIP (TO FRANCESCO) I gotta tell you, dude. You were in trouble for awhile. That dirt track section had you crawling! As McQueen SNEAKS AWAY --- FRANCESCO To truly crush one's dream, you must first raise their hopes very high. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT GARAGE - Mater looks around for everyone as McQueen approaches. 52. MCQUEEN Mater. MATER Hey McQueen! What happened? Is the race over? You won, right? MCQUEEN Mater, why were you yelling things at me while I was racing? MATER Yelling? Oh, you thought... that's funny right there. Nah, see that's `cause I seen these two fellers doing some sort of karate street performance. It was nutso. One of them even had a flamethrower --- MCQUEEN A flamethrower? What are you talking about? I don't understand. Where were you? MATER Going to meet my date. MCQUEEN Your date? MATER She started talking to me as a voice in my head, telling me where to go --- MCQUEEN What? MATER Wait a minute -- I didn't screw you up, did I? MCQUEEN I lost the race because of you! MATER Well, I'm sorry. I didn't mean --- MCQUEEN An imaginary girlfriend, flamethrowers. This is exactly why I don't bring you along to these things. 53. MATER Maybe if I, I don't know, talked to somebody and explained what happened I could help. MCQUEEN I don't need your help. I don't want your help. PRESS (O.S.) Hey, there he is!! The press finds McQueen, swarms him. Mater is pushed backwards as the questions fly again. PRESS - McQueen, you had it in the bag! - Yeah, what happened? MCQUEEN I made a mistake. But I can assure you, it won't happen again. On Mater. He takes this badly. MCQUEEN Look, guys. We know what the problem is and we've taken care of it. SMASH TO: OVER FOOTAGE OF FRANCESCO and various other highlights: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER Lightning McQueen loses in the last lap to Francesco Bernoulli in the first race of the World Grand Prix and three, count em, three cars

farewell

How many times the word 'farewell' appears in the text?

Finn. Meet HOLLEY SHIFTWELL. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. FINN That's because it's air-cooled. HOLLEY I'm Agent Shiftwell, Holley Shiftwell from the Tokyo Station. I have a message from London. FINN Not here. (LOUDLY) You must try the canapes on the mezzanine! He moves her onto an elevator. The doors close on them. IN THE ELEVATOR, GOING UP. FINN So the lab boys analyzed the photo I sent? What did they learn about the camera? HOLLEY It appears to be a standard television camera. They said if you could get closer photos next time, that would be great. FINN This was London's message? 27. HOLLEY Oh -- no, no. No sir. Um, the oil platforms you were on? Turns out they're sitting on the biggest oil reserve in the world. FINN How did we miss that? HOLLEY They'd been scrambling everyone's satellites. The Americans actually discovered it just before you did. They placed an agent on that platform, under deep cover. He was able to get a photo of the car who's running the entire operation. The doors OPEN and they exit onto the Mezzanine. FINN Who is it? Has anyone seen the photo yet? HOLLEY No, not yet. The American is here tonight to pass it to you. He'll signal you when he's ready. FINN GOOD --- Finn suddenly STOPS COLD. FINN Oh no. Professor Zundapp is visible below them. He talks with a few Pacers and Gremlins. Finn quickly retreats into the shadows. Holley follows suit. HOLLEY What is it? FINN Change of plan. You're meeting the American. HOLLEY What, me? 28. FINN Those thugs down there were on the oil platform. If they see me, the whole mission is compromised. HOLLEY No, no. I'm technical, you see. I'm in Diagnostics. I'm not a field agent. FINN You are now. CUT TO: MATER as he grabs a drink, keeps moving. MATER I'll take one of them. He snatches it, drops it in the back where we now see a large assortment of drinks balanced. MATER Never know which one McQueen'll have a hankering for. He approaches a sushi bar. MATER Hey, what you got here that's free? How about that pistachio ice cream? He refers to wasabi, of course. SUSHI CHEF No, no. Wasabi. MATER Oh, same ol', same ol'. What's up with you? That looks delicious. The chef starts to carve a small scoop aside for Mater. MATER Uh, a little more, please. It is free, right? (the chef adds more) Keep it coming. A little more. Come on, let's go, it's free! You're getting there... Scoop scoop! The chef gives in. Scoops a baseball-sized ball out. 29. MATER There you go. Now THAT's a scoop of ice cream. SUSHI CHEF (in Japanese, subtitles) My condolences. CUT BACK TO: MILES AXLEROD - He's now nearly done with his intros. MILES AXLEROD ... and now, our last competitor --- Number 95, Lightning McQueen! MCQUEEN approaches the microphone, flashes his headlights. MCQUEEN Thank you so much for having us, Sir Axlerod. I really look forward to racing. This is a great opportunity. MILES AXLEROD Oh, the pleasure is all ours, Lightning. You and your team bring excellence and professionalism to this competition. As if on cue, Mater arrives with a piercing scream of pain. Everyone turns as he charges head first toward the stage, making a bee-line for that FOUNTAIN. MATER Somebody get me water! He laps up water from the fountain like a diabetic cat. MATER (LAPPING WATER) Sweet relief... Miles Axlerod is shocked. The crowd can't believe it. Francesco cackles. Mater, now sated, approaches the mic. MATER (to the crowd) Whatever you do, do not eat the free pistachio ice cream. It has turned! MCQUEEN Sir Axlerod, I can explain. This is Mater. 30. MILES AXLEROD I know him. This is the bloke that called into the television show. (TO MATER) You're the one I have to thank. MATER No, thank you. This trip's been amazing. MILES AXLEROD (TO MCQUEEN) He's a little excited, isn't he? TILT DOWN to reveal a pool of oil beneath Mater. MCQUEEN Mater! MATER But wait, I... oh, shoot. McQueen quickly pulls Mater aside, out of earshot of Miles Axlerod and the others. McQueen is beside himself. MCQUEEN Mater, you have to get a hold of yourself. You're making a scene. MATER But I never leak oil. Never. MCQUEEN Go take care of yourself right now. Mater drives off. ON MATER - MOMENTS LATER He drives through the party, frantic. MATER Coming through! Excuse me, leakin' oil. Where's the bathroom? Thank you. I gotta go! Someone points Mater down a hallway. He whips around the CORNER --- --- and STOPS. Finds himself in front of TWO BATHROOM DOORS, neither of which clearly indicate MALE or FEMALE. 31. MATER (CONFUSED) What the... Mater chooses one, drives inside. A SHRIEK is heard and Mater zips out. MATER Sorry ladies! He heads into the other door --- CUT TO: INT. MEN'S ROOM - NIGHT Mater rolls in, still `holding it in' like a kid. MATER I never leak I never leak I never leak... He sees someone leaving a stall. He heads in. IN THE STALL - Mater enters, looks up. MATER Wowee... The stall is a complicated apparatus with buttons and lights. High-tech Japanese. It suddenly GRABS MATER, hoists him up as if he's going to get an oil change. MATER What in the--- A Japanese style cartoon CARICATURE appears on a TV MONITOR, followed by images of waterfalls and rivers. MATER (GIGGLING) Hey, that tickles. The caricature starts talking in Japanese. Suddenly WATER FIRES UP underneath Mater's undercarriage, goosing him. He freaks out. OUTSIDE THE STALL - With Mater's yells audible we see a GREMLIN enter, furtive. Suddenly, inexplicably, his frame BREAKS APART like an egg, revealing an AMERICAN MUSCLE CAR underneath. The pieces of the Gremlin disappear under him, clearly his disguise. This is ROD REDLINE - American Agent. 32. ROD REDLINE Okay, McMissile. I'm here. It's time for the drop. INT. PARTY - SAME HOLLEY, rolls along by herself. Nervous. DING! Her rearview monitor springs to life. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) The American has activated his tracking beacon. FINN (OVER RADIO) Roger that. Move in. INT. BATHROOM - SAME Rod Redline, waiting at a sink, feels a presence behind him. GREM and ACER have entered, hesitate briefly when they see Rod Redline. Rod Redline, careful, slides a gun out of his tire. He is suddenly CHARGED by the AMCs --- Rod SPINS AROUND and gets a shot off but is SLAMMED HEAD FIRST. A TIGHT, CLOSE-QUARTERS FIGHT begins --- IN THE STALL - Mater, still TRAPPED, is now being SCRUBBED as if in a car wash. He is helpless. OUTSIDE THE STALL - Rod is being pulverized. Just when he scrambles away from one car, the other one takes over. IN THE STALL - Mater is mercifully released, but when he backs out --- --- Rod Redline is THROWN INTO MATER'S STALL DOOR, crunching it and sending Mater --- --- BACK INTO THE CLUTCHES of the insane toilet. INT. PARTY - SAME Holley isolates the tracking beacon's location in the party. HOLLEY Oh, you've got to be joking. FINN What's the problem, Shiftwell? HOLLEY He's in the loo. 33. FINN So go in! HOLLEY I can't just go into the men's loo. FINN Time is of the essence, Shiftwell. INT. BATHROOM - OUTSIDE THE STALL Rod Redline is in bad shape. He backs away, betrays a look of concern. He's in trouble here. ACER burns rubber, ready to finish him off. Just as he shifts into DRIVE --- --- MATER'S STALL DOOR KICKS OPEN, knocking ACER out. Mater jumps out, face-to-face GREM. MATER (out of breath) Whatever you do, I would not go in there. The door SWINGS shut, revealing the pulverized Acer. MATER A Gremlin and a Pacer! Rod Redline, now behind Mater and sensing an opportunity here, quickly produces A SMALL DEVICE. MATER (to Grem and Acer) No offense to your makes and models, but you guys break down harder than my cousin Betsy after she got left at the --- Rod Redline, surreptitiously attaches the device to Mater's undercarriage. MATER (as he's goosed) --- altar! He spins around, sees Rod Redline for the first time. MATER Are you okay? ROD REDLINE I'm fine. 34. GREM Hey. Tow truck. Mater turns back to Grem and Acer. GREM We'd like to get to our private business here, if you don't mind. MATER Oh, yeah. Don't let me get in the way of your "private business." Oh! A little advice: When you hear her giggle and see that waterfall, you best press that green button. GREM Thank you. MATER It's to adjust the temperature. ACER Got it. MATER Remember it's in Celsius, not Fahrenheit. GREM AND ACER Get outta here! MATER Alright then. Mater exits, leaving Rod Redline to a now even angrier Grem and Acer. EXT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER Holley arrives at the door. She takes a breath, is about to enter when Mater EXITS. MATER Excuse me, ma'am. He passes her, expelling some exhaust in the process. Holley's rearview tracking confirms that the device is on him. MATER (TO HIMSELF) Dadgum pistachio ice cream. 35. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) This cannot be him. FINN (OVER RADIO) Is he American? MATER (driving off, to himself) Look out, ladies. Mater's fittin' to get funky! HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Extremely. FINN (OVER RADIO) Then it's him. It's settled. Holley takes one more nervous breath, quickly closes the distance between her and Mater, cuts him off. He is forced to STOP. HOLLEY Hello. MATER Well, hello. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. MATER Well of course it doesn't. That's `cause it's air-cooled! HOLLEY (RELIEVED) Perfect. I'm from the Tokyo Station OF THE--- MATER Course, Karmann Ghia's weren't the only ones. Besides the Beetles you had your Type-3 Squarebacks, with the pancake motors... HOLLEY Yeah. Okay, I get it--- MATER ... And before both of them, there's the Type-2 buses - my buddy Fillmore's one of them. 36. HOLLEY Listen! We should find somewhere more private. MATER Uh, gee. Don't you think that's a little, uh --- HOLLEY (NERVOUS ENERGY) You're right. Impossible to know which areas here are compromised. So, when can I see you again? MATER Well, let's see. Tomorrow I'll be out there at the races. HOLLEY Got it. We'll rendezvous then. INT. PARTY - MOMENTS LATER Mater returns to his team, lost in thought. MCQUEEN There you are. Where have you been? MATER What's a rendezvous? LUIGI It's like a date. MATER A date?! MCQUEEN Mater, what's going on? MATER Well, what's going on is I've got me a date tomorrow. Guido makes a crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido don't believe you. MATER Well, believe it. My new girlfriend just said so. Hey, there she is. Mater points out Holley, who's within earshot. 37. MATER (YELLING) Hey! Hey lady! Holley, caught in plain view, DRIVES OFF. MATER See ya tomorrow! Guido makes another crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido still don't believe you. EXT. SHIPYARD - THE DOCKS - TOKYO NIGHT An industrial dock, outside of the city proper. INT. SHIPYARD - NIGHT Rod Redline dangles from a car magnet. He's been beaten up, clings to consciousness. GREM (O.S.) I gotta admit --- Grem, Acer, and a bunch of nasty looking troublemakers look up at Rod amidst crates and shipping containers. GREM --- you tricked us real good. ACER And we don't like being tricked. Rod Redline laughs to himself. ACER Hey, what's so funny? ROD REDLINE Well, you know, I was just wearing a disguise. You guys are stuck looking like that. This doesn't help him. They DROP HIM onto a TREADMILL, lock him down. A container is wheeled forward and Rod is plied with Allinol brand gasoline. ROD REDLINE Allinol? Thanks, fellas. I hear this stuff is good for you. 38. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (O.S.) So you think. The Professor emerges from the darkness, behind Rod. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Allinol by itself is good for you. Zundapp hits a button and the TREADMILL starts Rod's wheels spinning at a high rate of speed. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP But after microscopic examination, I have found that it has one small weakness. When hit with an electromagnetic pulse, it becomes extremely dangerous. GREM SMILE --- Grem pushes a World Grand Prix CAMERA - the same one that was in the box back at the oil derrick. He points it at Rod Redline. GREM --- for the camera. ROD REDLINE Is that all you want? I got a whole act. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You were very interested in this camera on the oil platform. Now you will witness what it really does. ROD REDLINE Whatever you say, Professor. Acer pushes a TV MONITOR toward Rod. On it, surveillance footage from the party. Clearly, they were watching and recording him there. ACER You talked up a lot of cars last night. Which one's your associate? ROD REDLINE Your mother. Oh no, I'm sorry. It was your sister. You know, I can't tell them apart these days. 39. GREM (HAD ENOUGH) Could I start it now, Professor? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Fifty percent power. (to Rod Redline) This camera is actually an electromagnetic pulse emitter. ACER (re: a girl on the TV) What about her? Did you give it to her? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The Allinol is now heating to a boil, dramatically expanding, causing the engine block to crack under the stress, forcing oil into the combustion chamber. Rod Redline's engine starts to CRACK and BREAK. ACER (re: a guy on the TV) How about him? You talk to him? ROD REDLINE (to Professor Zundapp) What do I care? I can replace an engine block. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You may be able to, but after full impact of the pulse, unfortunately, there will be nothing to replace. ACER How about him? Does he have it? The monitor reveals MATER, rolling out of the bathroom and down the hall. Rod Redline, seeing this, does the world's most subtle double take. We caught it, but there's no way anyone else in the room could have --- PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP That's him. He's the one. GREM Roger that, Professor Z. 40. ROD REDLINE No! As Grem turns up the machine even MORE, the Professor makes a call. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (INTO PHONE) Yes sir. We believe the infiltrator has passed along sensitive information. (beat, listening) I will take care of it before any damage can be done. The Professor hangs up, turns to the room. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The project is still on schedule. You will find this second agent --- Zundapp kicks the camera's power into the RED. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP --- and kill him. On the MONITOR - With Mater's frozen image on the screen we see Rod EXPLODE in the reflection. EXT. JAPAN - DAY Over television pre-roll of Japan: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Japan. Land of the rising sun. Where ancient tradition meets modern technology. Welcome to the inaugural running of the World Grand Prix. ON OUR ANNOUNCERS as they introduce themselves: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER I'm Brent Mustangburger, here with racing legends Darrell Cartrip and David Hobbscap. There's never been a competition like this before. SHOTS OF THE PITS as the racers fuel up. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) First, Allinol, making its debut tonight as the required fuel for all these great champions. (MORE) 41. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) (CONT'D) Second, the course itself, and it's like nothing we've ever seen. David, how exactly does this competition work? DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Well, Brent, all three of these street courses are classic round- the-house racetracks. OUTLINES OF THREE RACE COURSES are shown. They're labeled Japan, Italy and England, and are different in shape and size. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) This means that the LMP and Formula cars should break out of the gate in spectacular fashion. SHOTS OF THE RACERS as they weave up the track, practicing. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Look for Francesco Bernoulli in particular to lead early. SHOTS OF Francesco, featured in an inset. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) And with a series of technical turns throughout --- MORE SHOTS of the course, now highlighting the tech turns. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) GT and Touring cars like Spain's Miguel Camino should make up some ground but I doubt it'll be enough to stop Francesco from absolutely running away with it. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Woah, now just hold your horsepower. You're forgetting the most important factor here. That early dirt track section of the course! The dirt is supposed to be the great equalizer in this race. GRAPHICS OF THE COURSES now isolate a stretch after the first couple turns, label it "DIRT SECTIONS." 42. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) French Rally car Raoul aRoule is counting on a big boost headed through there. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) And don't forget Lightning McQueen! His mentor, the Hudson Hornet, was one of the greatest dirt track racers of all time. In my opinion, McQueen is the best all-around racer in this competition. BACK IN THE STUDIO DAVID HOBBSCAP Really, Darrell, I think you need to clean your windshield. You're clearly not seeing this for what it is: Francesco's race to lose. EXT. STARTING LINE - DAY BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) It's time to find out. The racers are locking into the grid --- Engines rev as everyone gets ready to go. Everyone's bright eyed and alert except for McQueen who we find in the back of the grid. He CLOSES his eyes. MCQUEEN (TO HIMSELF) Speed. I am speed. A LAUGH O.S. McQueen opens his eyes. Francesco is next to him on the grid. FRANCESCO Really? You are "speed"? Then Francesco is triple speed. (closes his eyes) Francesco. Is. Triple speed. Francesco likes this, McQueen. It's really getting him into the zone! MCQUEEN He is so getting beat today. The starting lights click down from RED to YELLOW to GREEN. The race begins. Francesco quickly grabs the lead. He's pulling away within seconds. 43. ON PIT ROW - We TRACK PAST as the various Crew Chiefs on their crash carts bark orders to their racers. We end on Team McQueen. No Crew Chief, just a solid looking team. SARGE His suspension stats look good. LUIGI Tire pressure is excellent. FILLMORE He's got plenty of fuel. MATER And he's awesome! CUT TO: The same view of Mater but now THROUGH A TELESCOPIC DISPLAY. Reveal Finn and Holley watching from high above in a downtown office building, behind reflective glass. HOLLEY Why is he in the pits? He's so exposed. FINN It's his cover. One of the best I've seen, too. Look at the detail on that rust. It must have cost him a fortune. HOLLEY But why hasn't he contacted us yet? FINN There's probably heat on him. Be patient. HOLLEY Right, of course. He'll signal us when he can. FINN And then we find out who's behind all this. ON THE TRACK - VARIOUS SHOTS OF THE RACE through Tokyo as Francesco extends his lead and McQueen attempts to make up ground. 44. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - Mater watches the monitors, sees them approaching the dirt section. MATER McQueen! It's time to make your move. Get on the outside and show 'em what Doc done taught you. MCQUEEN (OVER RADIO) Ten four, Mater. ON THE TRACK - Francesco hits the dirt section and loses all control. He SLAMS to a halt, his tires getting no traction. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Francesco is brought to a screeching halt! MCQUEEN skids into view, turning right to go left, passing Francesco, followed by other cars --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Lightning McQueen is the first to take advantage. And just like that, folks, Francesco's lead is left in the dust. MCQUEEN Nice call, Mater. Keep it up! McQueen now leads the pack, zooming out of the dirt now starting to relax. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Who-hoo! Man, McQueen looks happier than a rollbar at a demolition derby! ON PAVED ROAD AGAIN - MOMENTS LATER The field of cars thunders into a tunnel. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Everyone's jostling for position as we hit the asphalt again. Francesco crests the hill, in last place. He bites down, determined, then CHASES. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco lost a lot of momentum in the dirt. He's got some serious work ahead of him if he wants to get back in this race. 45. VARIOUS SHOTS OF TOKYO as the racers move through the Rainbow Bridge. Bit by bit, Francesco ekes his way toward the front, toward Lightning McQueen as we CUT TO --- --- A ROOFTOP, and a VIEW THROUGH THE WGP CAMERA LENS. Grem and Acer are manning this one. They focus it on the racers as they approach. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (OVER RADIO) It is time. GREM Roger that. ON THE TRACK - A racer (Miguel Camino) suddenly PLUMES WITH SMOKE and skids out. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Oh! Miguel Camino has blown an engine! BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Very unusual, Darrell. He's been so consistent all year. Camino quickly pits, passing McQueen's pit where Mater is visible. ON GREM AND ACER, watching from above. GREM You gotta be kidding me. ACER What is it? GREM It's that tow truck from the bathroom. ACER The one from the bathroom? GREM Yeah, the one the American Agent passed the device to. ACER What about him? GREM What about him? He's in the pits! 46. ACER Not for long. Acer exits, with purpose. ON FINN AND HOLLEY, still in their office hideaway. Holley's onboard computer flashes an ALERT. HOLLEY Hold on. I think I've got something. FINN What is it? HOLLEY The Pacer from the party last night. She's spotted Acer, moving swiftly forward. HOLLEY Cross-referencing with the photos from the oil derricks... Yep. His VIN numbers match. FINN Anyone with him? He won't be alone. HOLLEY Conducting analysis on the target. The computer finds more and more bad guy Pacers and Gremlins are in the crowd. HOLLEY He's not the only one here. Three... five... they're everywhere. And they're all closing in on... oh no. We PAN OVER to see it's MATER. HOLLEY Finn? Finn, where are you? She turns. He's GONE, leaving only an open window. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of the pits now! IN MCQUEEN'S PIT. A car WHIPS BY O.S. 47. MATER Wow! Some of them fellers is really loud. HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Can you hear me? Over. MATER Uh, what? HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Get out of the pit now. Do you hear me? Mater realizes this girl has somehow broken into his radio. MATER (INTO RADIO) Hey, I know you. You're that girl from the party last night. You wanna do our date right now? ON THE TRACK - McQueen boxes out Francesco, holds his slim lead, but barely. MCQUEEN Guys, a little too much chatter. Let's keep this line clear. BOOM! A racer behind McQueen suddenly expels black smoke, skids out of control. ON GREM - laughing. That was clearly his handiwork. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - SAME HOLLEY (ON MATER'S RADIO) There's no time for messing about. You've got to get out of the pits. MATER Is there gonna be cable where you is so I can watch the rest of the race? ON HOLLEY - Watching from the downtown building. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) You're running out of time! FINN (OVER RADIO) They're coming, Shiftwell. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Yes, I know. 48. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of there. HOLLEY (TO FINN) I'm trying. (TO MATER) Get out now! We CUT BACK TO --- --- MATER. He gives in, exits the pit. MATER Well, all right but I usually like to have a proper detailing done before I meet a lady friend. He moves toward the back PIT DOOR, is about to open it. OUTSIDE THE PITS - ACER and another Pacer approach McQueen's pit door on the other side. Ready to pounce. The doors OPEN, REVEALING --- --- Finn, holding a fire extinguisher. ACER Finn McMissile? But you're dead! FINN Then this shouldn't hurt at all. He empties the extinguisher in their eyes, speeds past. They try and follow, but have been blinded. One of them crashes right into a COP. ON FINN - Already on the move, along a side street. FINN Miss Shiftwell? ON HOLLEY - Tracking everything on a grid map. Mater looks like Pac Man, weaving through the streets as bad guys close in all around him. HOLLEY I've got him in the back alleys east of the garages. Multiple assailants are closing in quickly. FINN (OVER RADIO) Keep him moving. I'm on my way. ON MATER - He turns a corner, sees a flower shop. 49. MATER Hey, new lady friend? You like flowers? ON THE TRACK - McQueen, hearing this, is taken aback. MCQUEEN What? ON MATER - Slowing at the flower shop. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go 'in' anywhere. Just keep moving. MATER Stay outside. Gotcha. ON THE TRACK MCQUEEN Outside? McQueen drifts outside allowing Francesco to slip past! FRANCESCO Grazie and arrivaderci! DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) I cannot believe what I just saw, Brent. That was a bonehead move. You don't open up the inside like that! IN THE BACK ALLEYS - As Mater moves on he's followed by Pacers and Gremlins. Suddenly --- --- CABLES whip in front of them, pulling over flower vending machines and sending the shop's owners into a frenzy. They direct their attention to the AMCs, who try and explain. ON FINN, admiring his handiwork as he appears. Just as he turns to leave he's BROADSIDED and pushed INTO A DARK ALLEY. IN THE ALLEY - Finn finds himself boxed by two Pacers and pushed toward --- --- ACER, who now holds a FLAME THROWER. ACER This time I'm gonna make sure you stay dead. He hits the flame. WHOOOSSSH!! 50. ON ANOTHER STREET - Mater clicks along, still looking for Holley. Just as he passes the alley entrance where Finn stares down death: HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) You're doing brilliantly. Now just stay focused. MATER What's that? You want me to head toward that ruckus? Mater turns INTO the alley. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go down that street! IN THE ALLEY - Finn, now nearly pushed completely into the flame thrower, leaps into the air. He FIGHTS BACK, using his wheels, axle, indeed his entire car frame as if he were human, kicking and tossing and shooting his enemies. Mater witnesses the whole thing. MATER Wow! A live karate demonstration! ON THE TRACK - McQueen, now playing catch-up again, scowls. MCQUEEN Stop it, Mater. Just sign off. IN THE BACK ALLEY - Finn polishes off the AMCs by firing a bullet into a gas main line, causing an EXPLOSION that tosses Acer through the air where he lands in a NOODLE SHOP'S SIGN. ON THE TRACK - The end of the race is nigh --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) They're bumper to bumper as they approach the finish line! The Formula car gets there first. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco's the winner, McQueen's number two! IN THE ALLEY - Finn heaves breaths, surveys his damage. MATER That was cool! Hey, can I get your autograph? 51. Mater approaches when a MASS OF RACE FANS burst out a door, momentarily blocking Mater's view of Finn. Once the fans have past, Finn has disappeared. MATER Hey, where'd he go? HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) Our rendezvous has been jeopardized. Keep the device safe. We'll be in touch. MATER Dadgum, did I miss our date? EXT. PRESS STAGE - LATER Post race press conference. Francesco is center stage. DARRELL CARTRIP Francesco, over here! Hey, what was your strategy today? FRANCESCO Strategia? Francesco needs no strategy, it's very simple. You start the race, wait for Lightning McQueen to choke, pass him, then win. Francesco always wins. It's boring. McQueen, waiting in the wings, rolls his eyes. He suddenly notices something O.S. McQueen's P.O.V. - It's MATER, appearing from a side street, moving toward the pits, oblivious of the press conference. DARRELL CARTRIP (TO FRANCESCO) I gotta tell you, dude. You were in trouble for awhile. That dirt track section had you crawling! As McQueen SNEAKS AWAY --- FRANCESCO To truly crush one's dream, you must first raise their hopes very high. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT GARAGE - Mater looks around for everyone as McQueen approaches. 52. MCQUEEN Mater. MATER Hey McQueen! What happened? Is the race over? You won, right? MCQUEEN Mater, why were you yelling things at me while I was racing? MATER Yelling? Oh, you thought... that's funny right there. Nah, see that's `cause I seen these two fellers doing some sort of karate street performance. It was nutso. One of them even had a flamethrower --- MCQUEEN A flamethrower? What are you talking about? I don't understand. Where were you? MATER Going to meet my date. MCQUEEN Your date? MATER She started talking to me as a voice in my head, telling me where to go --- MCQUEEN What? MATER Wait a minute -- I didn't screw you up, did I? MCQUEEN I lost the race because of you! MATER Well, I'm sorry. I didn't mean --- MCQUEEN An imaginary girlfriend, flamethrowers. This is exactly why I don't bring you along to these things. 53. MATER Maybe if I, I don't know, talked to somebody and explained what happened I could help. MCQUEEN I don't need your help. I don't want your help. PRESS (O.S.) Hey, there he is!! The press finds McQueen, swarms him. Mater is pushed backwards as the questions fly again. PRESS - McQueen, you had it in the bag! - Yeah, what happened? MCQUEEN I made a mistake. But I can assure you, it won't happen again. On Mater. He takes this badly. MCQUEEN Look, guys. We know what the problem is and we've taken care of it. SMASH TO: OVER FOOTAGE OF FRANCESCO and various other highlights: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER Lightning McQueen loses in the last lap to Francesco Bernoulli in the first race of the World Grand Prix and three, count em, three cars

electromagnetic

How many times the word 'electromagnetic' appears in the text?

Finn. Meet HOLLEY SHIFTWELL. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. FINN That's because it's air-cooled. HOLLEY I'm Agent Shiftwell, Holley Shiftwell from the Tokyo Station. I have a message from London. FINN Not here. (LOUDLY) You must try the canapes on the mezzanine! He moves her onto an elevator. The doors close on them. IN THE ELEVATOR, GOING UP. FINN So the lab boys analyzed the photo I sent? What did they learn about the camera? HOLLEY It appears to be a standard television camera. They said if you could get closer photos next time, that would be great. FINN This was London's message? 27. HOLLEY Oh -- no, no. No sir. Um, the oil platforms you were on? Turns out they're sitting on the biggest oil reserve in the world. FINN How did we miss that? HOLLEY They'd been scrambling everyone's satellites. The Americans actually discovered it just before you did. They placed an agent on that platform, under deep cover. He was able to get a photo of the car who's running the entire operation. The doors OPEN and they exit onto the Mezzanine. FINN Who is it? Has anyone seen the photo yet? HOLLEY No, not yet. The American is here tonight to pass it to you. He'll signal you when he's ready. FINN GOOD --- Finn suddenly STOPS COLD. FINN Oh no. Professor Zundapp is visible below them. He talks with a few Pacers and Gremlins. Finn quickly retreats into the shadows. Holley follows suit. HOLLEY What is it? FINN Change of plan. You're meeting the American. HOLLEY What, me? 28. FINN Those thugs down there were on the oil platform. If they see me, the whole mission is compromised. HOLLEY No, no. I'm technical, you see. I'm in Diagnostics. I'm not a field agent. FINN You are now. CUT TO: MATER as he grabs a drink, keeps moving. MATER I'll take one of them. He snatches it, drops it in the back where we now see a large assortment of drinks balanced. MATER Never know which one McQueen'll have a hankering for. He approaches a sushi bar. MATER Hey, what you got here that's free? How about that pistachio ice cream? He refers to wasabi, of course. SUSHI CHEF No, no. Wasabi. MATER Oh, same ol', same ol'. What's up with you? That looks delicious. The chef starts to carve a small scoop aside for Mater. MATER Uh, a little more, please. It is free, right? (the chef adds more) Keep it coming. A little more. Come on, let's go, it's free! You're getting there... Scoop scoop! The chef gives in. Scoops a baseball-sized ball out. 29. MATER There you go. Now THAT's a scoop of ice cream. SUSHI CHEF (in Japanese, subtitles) My condolences. CUT BACK TO: MILES AXLEROD - He's now nearly done with his intros. MILES AXLEROD ... and now, our last competitor --- Number 95, Lightning McQueen! MCQUEEN approaches the microphone, flashes his headlights. MCQUEEN Thank you so much for having us, Sir Axlerod. I really look forward to racing. This is a great opportunity. MILES AXLEROD Oh, the pleasure is all ours, Lightning. You and your team bring excellence and professionalism to this competition. As if on cue, Mater arrives with a piercing scream of pain. Everyone turns as he charges head first toward the stage, making a bee-line for that FOUNTAIN. MATER Somebody get me water! He laps up water from the fountain like a diabetic cat. MATER (LAPPING WATER) Sweet relief... Miles Axlerod is shocked. The crowd can't believe it. Francesco cackles. Mater, now sated, approaches the mic. MATER (to the crowd) Whatever you do, do not eat the free pistachio ice cream. It has turned! MCQUEEN Sir Axlerod, I can explain. This is Mater. 30. MILES AXLEROD I know him. This is the bloke that called into the television show. (TO MATER) You're the one I have to thank. MATER No, thank you. This trip's been amazing. MILES AXLEROD (TO MCQUEEN) He's a little excited, isn't he? TILT DOWN to reveal a pool of oil beneath Mater. MCQUEEN Mater! MATER But wait, I... oh, shoot. McQueen quickly pulls Mater aside, out of earshot of Miles Axlerod and the others. McQueen is beside himself. MCQUEEN Mater, you have to get a hold of yourself. You're making a scene. MATER But I never leak oil. Never. MCQUEEN Go take care of yourself right now. Mater drives off. ON MATER - MOMENTS LATER He drives through the party, frantic. MATER Coming through! Excuse me, leakin' oil. Where's the bathroom? Thank you. I gotta go! Someone points Mater down a hallway. He whips around the CORNER --- --- and STOPS. Finds himself in front of TWO BATHROOM DOORS, neither of which clearly indicate MALE or FEMALE. 31. MATER (CONFUSED) What the... Mater chooses one, drives inside. A SHRIEK is heard and Mater zips out. MATER Sorry ladies! He heads into the other door --- CUT TO: INT. MEN'S ROOM - NIGHT Mater rolls in, still `holding it in' like a kid. MATER I never leak I never leak I never leak... He sees someone leaving a stall. He heads in. IN THE STALL - Mater enters, looks up. MATER Wowee... The stall is a complicated apparatus with buttons and lights. High-tech Japanese. It suddenly GRABS MATER, hoists him up as if he's going to get an oil change. MATER What in the--- A Japanese style cartoon CARICATURE appears on a TV MONITOR, followed by images of waterfalls and rivers. MATER (GIGGLING) Hey, that tickles. The caricature starts talking in Japanese. Suddenly WATER FIRES UP underneath Mater's undercarriage, goosing him. He freaks out. OUTSIDE THE STALL - With Mater's yells audible we see a GREMLIN enter, furtive. Suddenly, inexplicably, his frame BREAKS APART like an egg, revealing an AMERICAN MUSCLE CAR underneath. The pieces of the Gremlin disappear under him, clearly his disguise. This is ROD REDLINE - American Agent. 32. ROD REDLINE Okay, McMissile. I'm here. It's time for the drop. INT. PARTY - SAME HOLLEY, rolls along by herself. Nervous. DING! Her rearview monitor springs to life. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) The American has activated his tracking beacon. FINN (OVER RADIO) Roger that. Move in. INT. BATHROOM - SAME Rod Redline, waiting at a sink, feels a presence behind him. GREM and ACER have entered, hesitate briefly when they see Rod Redline. Rod Redline, careful, slides a gun out of his tire. He is suddenly CHARGED by the AMCs --- Rod SPINS AROUND and gets a shot off but is SLAMMED HEAD FIRST. A TIGHT, CLOSE-QUARTERS FIGHT begins --- IN THE STALL - Mater, still TRAPPED, is now being SCRUBBED as if in a car wash. He is helpless. OUTSIDE THE STALL - Rod is being pulverized. Just when he scrambles away from one car, the other one takes over. IN THE STALL - Mater is mercifully released, but when he backs out --- --- Rod Redline is THROWN INTO MATER'S STALL DOOR, crunching it and sending Mater --- --- BACK INTO THE CLUTCHES of the insane toilet. INT. PARTY - SAME Holley isolates the tracking beacon's location in the party. HOLLEY Oh, you've got to be joking. FINN What's the problem, Shiftwell? HOLLEY He's in the loo. 33. FINN So go in! HOLLEY I can't just go into the men's loo. FINN Time is of the essence, Shiftwell. INT. BATHROOM - OUTSIDE THE STALL Rod Redline is in bad shape. He backs away, betrays a look of concern. He's in trouble here. ACER burns rubber, ready to finish him off. Just as he shifts into DRIVE --- --- MATER'S STALL DOOR KICKS OPEN, knocking ACER out. Mater jumps out, face-to-face GREM. MATER (out of breath) Whatever you do, I would not go in there. The door SWINGS shut, revealing the pulverized Acer. MATER A Gremlin and a Pacer! Rod Redline, now behind Mater and sensing an opportunity here, quickly produces A SMALL DEVICE. MATER (to Grem and Acer) No offense to your makes and models, but you guys break down harder than my cousin Betsy after she got left at the --- Rod Redline, surreptitiously attaches the device to Mater's undercarriage. MATER (as he's goosed) --- altar! He spins around, sees Rod Redline for the first time. MATER Are you okay? ROD REDLINE I'm fine. 34. GREM Hey. Tow truck. Mater turns back to Grem and Acer. GREM We'd like to get to our private business here, if you don't mind. MATER Oh, yeah. Don't let me get in the way of your "private business." Oh! A little advice: When you hear her giggle and see that waterfall, you best press that green button. GREM Thank you. MATER It's to adjust the temperature. ACER Got it. MATER Remember it's in Celsius, not Fahrenheit. GREM AND ACER Get outta here! MATER Alright then. Mater exits, leaving Rod Redline to a now even angrier Grem and Acer. EXT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER Holley arrives at the door. She takes a breath, is about to enter when Mater EXITS. MATER Excuse me, ma'am. He passes her, expelling some exhaust in the process. Holley's rearview tracking confirms that the device is on him. MATER (TO HIMSELF) Dadgum pistachio ice cream. 35. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) This cannot be him. FINN (OVER RADIO) Is he American? MATER (driving off, to himself) Look out, ladies. Mater's fittin' to get funky! HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Extremely. FINN (OVER RADIO) Then it's him. It's settled. Holley takes one more nervous breath, quickly closes the distance between her and Mater, cuts him off. He is forced to STOP. HOLLEY Hello. MATER Well, hello. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. MATER Well of course it doesn't. That's `cause it's air-cooled! HOLLEY (RELIEVED) Perfect. I'm from the Tokyo Station OF THE--- MATER Course, Karmann Ghia's weren't the only ones. Besides the Beetles you had your Type-3 Squarebacks, with the pancake motors... HOLLEY Yeah. Okay, I get it--- MATER ... And before both of them, there's the Type-2 buses - my buddy Fillmore's one of them. 36. HOLLEY Listen! We should find somewhere more private. MATER Uh, gee. Don't you think that's a little, uh --- HOLLEY (NERVOUS ENERGY) You're right. Impossible to know which areas here are compromised. So, when can I see you again? MATER Well, let's see. Tomorrow I'll be out there at the races. HOLLEY Got it. We'll rendezvous then. INT. PARTY - MOMENTS LATER Mater returns to his team, lost in thought. MCQUEEN There you are. Where have you been? MATER What's a rendezvous? LUIGI It's like a date. MATER A date?! MCQUEEN Mater, what's going on? MATER Well, what's going on is I've got me a date tomorrow. Guido makes a crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido don't believe you. MATER Well, believe it. My new girlfriend just said so. Hey, there she is. Mater points out Holley, who's within earshot. 37. MATER (YELLING) Hey! Hey lady! Holley, caught in plain view, DRIVES OFF. MATER See ya tomorrow! Guido makes another crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido still don't believe you. EXT. SHIPYARD - THE DOCKS - TOKYO NIGHT An industrial dock, outside of the city proper. INT. SHIPYARD - NIGHT Rod Redline dangles from a car magnet. He's been beaten up, clings to consciousness. GREM (O.S.) I gotta admit --- Grem, Acer, and a bunch of nasty looking troublemakers look up at Rod amidst crates and shipping containers. GREM --- you tricked us real good. ACER And we don't like being tricked. Rod Redline laughs to himself. ACER Hey, what's so funny? ROD REDLINE Well, you know, I was just wearing a disguise. You guys are stuck looking like that. This doesn't help him. They DROP HIM onto a TREADMILL, lock him down. A container is wheeled forward and Rod is plied with Allinol brand gasoline. ROD REDLINE Allinol? Thanks, fellas. I hear this stuff is good for you. 38. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (O.S.) So you think. The Professor emerges from the darkness, behind Rod. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Allinol by itself is good for you. Zundapp hits a button and the TREADMILL starts Rod's wheels spinning at a high rate of speed. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP But after microscopic examination, I have found that it has one small weakness. When hit with an electromagnetic pulse, it becomes extremely dangerous. GREM SMILE --- Grem pushes a World Grand Prix CAMERA - the same one that was in the box back at the oil derrick. He points it at Rod Redline. GREM --- for the camera. ROD REDLINE Is that all you want? I got a whole act. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You were very interested in this camera on the oil platform. Now you will witness what it really does. ROD REDLINE Whatever you say, Professor. Acer pushes a TV MONITOR toward Rod. On it, surveillance footage from the party. Clearly, they were watching and recording him there. ACER You talked up a lot of cars last night. Which one's your associate? ROD REDLINE Your mother. Oh no, I'm sorry. It was your sister. You know, I can't tell them apart these days. 39. GREM (HAD ENOUGH) Could I start it now, Professor? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Fifty percent power. (to Rod Redline) This camera is actually an electromagnetic pulse emitter. ACER (re: a girl on the TV) What about her? Did you give it to her? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The Allinol is now heating to a boil, dramatically expanding, causing the engine block to crack under the stress, forcing oil into the combustion chamber. Rod Redline's engine starts to CRACK and BREAK. ACER (re: a guy on the TV) How about him? You talk to him? ROD REDLINE (to Professor Zundapp) What do I care? I can replace an engine block. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You may be able to, but after full impact of the pulse, unfortunately, there will be nothing to replace. ACER How about him? Does he have it? The monitor reveals MATER, rolling out of the bathroom and down the hall. Rod Redline, seeing this, does the world's most subtle double take. We caught it, but there's no way anyone else in the room could have --- PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP That's him. He's the one. GREM Roger that, Professor Z. 40. ROD REDLINE No! As Grem turns up the machine even MORE, the Professor makes a call. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (INTO PHONE) Yes sir. We believe the infiltrator has passed along sensitive information. (beat, listening) I will take care of it before any damage can be done. The Professor hangs up, turns to the room. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The project is still on schedule. You will find this second agent --- Zundapp kicks the camera's power into the RED. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP --- and kill him. On the MONITOR - With Mater's frozen image on the screen we see Rod EXPLODE in the reflection. EXT. JAPAN - DAY Over television pre-roll of Japan: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Japan. Land of the rising sun. Where ancient tradition meets modern technology. Welcome to the inaugural running of the World Grand Prix. ON OUR ANNOUNCERS as they introduce themselves: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER I'm Brent Mustangburger, here with racing legends Darrell Cartrip and David Hobbscap. There's never been a competition like this before. SHOTS OF THE PITS as the racers fuel up. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) First, Allinol, making its debut tonight as the required fuel for all these great champions. (MORE) 41. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) (CONT'D) Second, the course itself, and it's like nothing we've ever seen. David, how exactly does this competition work? DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Well, Brent, all three of these street courses are classic round- the-house racetracks. OUTLINES OF THREE RACE COURSES are shown. They're labeled Japan, Italy and England, and are different in shape and size. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) This means that the LMP and Formula cars should break out of the gate in spectacular fashion. SHOTS OF THE RACERS as they weave up the track, practicing. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Look for Francesco Bernoulli in particular to lead early. SHOTS OF Francesco, featured in an inset. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) And with a series of technical turns throughout --- MORE SHOTS of the course, now highlighting the tech turns. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) GT and Touring cars like Spain's Miguel Camino should make up some ground but I doubt it'll be enough to stop Francesco from absolutely running away with it. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Woah, now just hold your horsepower. You're forgetting the most important factor here. That early dirt track section of the course! The dirt is supposed to be the great equalizer in this race. GRAPHICS OF THE COURSES now isolate a stretch after the first couple turns, label it "DIRT SECTIONS." 42. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) French Rally car Raoul aRoule is counting on a big boost headed through there. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) And don't forget Lightning McQueen! His mentor, the Hudson Hornet, was one of the greatest dirt track racers of all time. In my opinion, McQueen is the best all-around racer in this competition. BACK IN THE STUDIO DAVID HOBBSCAP Really, Darrell, I think you need to clean your windshield. You're clearly not seeing this for what it is: Francesco's race to lose. EXT. STARTING LINE - DAY BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) It's time to find out. The racers are locking into the grid --- Engines rev as everyone gets ready to go. Everyone's bright eyed and alert except for McQueen who we find in the back of the grid. He CLOSES his eyes. MCQUEEN (TO HIMSELF) Speed. I am speed. A LAUGH O.S. McQueen opens his eyes. Francesco is next to him on the grid. FRANCESCO Really? You are "speed"? Then Francesco is triple speed. (closes his eyes) Francesco. Is. Triple speed. Francesco likes this, McQueen. It's really getting him into the zone! MCQUEEN He is so getting beat today. The starting lights click down from RED to YELLOW to GREEN. The race begins. Francesco quickly grabs the lead. He's pulling away within seconds. 43. ON PIT ROW - We TRACK PAST as the various Crew Chiefs on their crash carts bark orders to their racers. We end on Team McQueen. No Crew Chief, just a solid looking team. SARGE His suspension stats look good. LUIGI Tire pressure is excellent. FILLMORE He's got plenty of fuel. MATER And he's awesome! CUT TO: The same view of Mater but now THROUGH A TELESCOPIC DISPLAY. Reveal Finn and Holley watching from high above in a downtown office building, behind reflective glass. HOLLEY Why is he in the pits? He's so exposed. FINN It's his cover. One of the best I've seen, too. Look at the detail on that rust. It must have cost him a fortune. HOLLEY But why hasn't he contacted us yet? FINN There's probably heat on him. Be patient. HOLLEY Right, of course. He'll signal us when he can. FINN And then we find out who's behind all this. ON THE TRACK - VARIOUS SHOTS OF THE RACE through Tokyo as Francesco extends his lead and McQueen attempts to make up ground. 44. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - Mater watches the monitors, sees them approaching the dirt section. MATER McQueen! It's time to make your move. Get on the outside and show 'em what Doc done taught you. MCQUEEN (OVER RADIO) Ten four, Mater. ON THE TRACK - Francesco hits the dirt section and loses all control. He SLAMS to a halt, his tires getting no traction. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Francesco is brought to a screeching halt! MCQUEEN skids into view, turning right to go left, passing Francesco, followed by other cars --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Lightning McQueen is the first to take advantage. And just like that, folks, Francesco's lead is left in the dust. MCQUEEN Nice call, Mater. Keep it up! McQueen now leads the pack, zooming out of the dirt now starting to relax. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Who-hoo! Man, McQueen looks happier than a rollbar at a demolition derby! ON PAVED ROAD AGAIN - MOMENTS LATER The field of cars thunders into a tunnel. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Everyone's jostling for position as we hit the asphalt again. Francesco crests the hill, in last place. He bites down, determined, then CHASES. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco lost a lot of momentum in the dirt. He's got some serious work ahead of him if he wants to get back in this race. 45. VARIOUS SHOTS OF TOKYO as the racers move through the Rainbow Bridge. Bit by bit, Francesco ekes his way toward the front, toward Lightning McQueen as we CUT TO --- --- A ROOFTOP, and a VIEW THROUGH THE WGP CAMERA LENS. Grem and Acer are manning this one. They focus it on the racers as they approach. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (OVER RADIO) It is time. GREM Roger that. ON THE TRACK - A racer (Miguel Camino) suddenly PLUMES WITH SMOKE and skids out. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Oh! Miguel Camino has blown an engine! BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Very unusual, Darrell. He's been so consistent all year. Camino quickly pits, passing McQueen's pit where Mater is visible. ON GREM AND ACER, watching from above. GREM You gotta be kidding me. ACER What is it? GREM It's that tow truck from the bathroom. ACER The one from the bathroom? GREM Yeah, the one the American Agent passed the device to. ACER What about him? GREM What about him? He's in the pits! 46. ACER Not for long. Acer exits, with purpose. ON FINN AND HOLLEY, still in their office hideaway. Holley's onboard computer flashes an ALERT. HOLLEY Hold on. I think I've got something. FINN What is it? HOLLEY The Pacer from the party last night. She's spotted Acer, moving swiftly forward. HOLLEY Cross-referencing with the photos from the oil derricks... Yep. His VIN numbers match. FINN Anyone with him? He won't be alone. HOLLEY Conducting analysis on the target. The computer finds more and more bad guy Pacers and Gremlins are in the crowd. HOLLEY He's not the only one here. Three... five... they're everywhere. And they're all closing in on... oh no. We PAN OVER to see it's MATER. HOLLEY Finn? Finn, where are you? She turns. He's GONE, leaving only an open window. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of the pits now! IN MCQUEEN'S PIT. A car WHIPS BY O.S. 47. MATER Wow! Some of them fellers is really loud. HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Can you hear me? Over. MATER Uh, what? HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Get out of the pit now. Do you hear me? Mater realizes this girl has somehow broken into his radio. MATER (INTO RADIO) Hey, I know you. You're that girl from the party last night. You wanna do our date right now? ON THE TRACK - McQueen boxes out Francesco, holds his slim lead, but barely. MCQUEEN Guys, a little too much chatter. Let's keep this line clear. BOOM! A racer behind McQueen suddenly expels black smoke, skids out of control. ON GREM - laughing. That was clearly his handiwork. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - SAME HOLLEY (ON MATER'S RADIO) There's no time for messing about. You've got to get out of the pits. MATER Is there gonna be cable where you is so I can watch the rest of the race? ON HOLLEY - Watching from the downtown building. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) You're running out of time! FINN (OVER RADIO) They're coming, Shiftwell. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Yes, I know. 48. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of there. HOLLEY (TO FINN) I'm trying. (TO MATER) Get out now! We CUT BACK TO --- --- MATER. He gives in, exits the pit. MATER Well, all right but I usually like to have a proper detailing done before I meet a lady friend. He moves toward the back PIT DOOR, is about to open it. OUTSIDE THE PITS - ACER and another Pacer approach McQueen's pit door on the other side. Ready to pounce. The doors OPEN, REVEALING --- --- Finn, holding a fire extinguisher. ACER Finn McMissile? But you're dead! FINN Then this shouldn't hurt at all. He empties the extinguisher in their eyes, speeds past. They try and follow, but have been blinded. One of them crashes right into a COP. ON FINN - Already on the move, along a side street. FINN Miss Shiftwell? ON HOLLEY - Tracking everything on a grid map. Mater looks like Pac Man, weaving through the streets as bad guys close in all around him. HOLLEY I've got him in the back alleys east of the garages. Multiple assailants are closing in quickly. FINN (OVER RADIO) Keep him moving. I'm on my way. ON MATER - He turns a corner, sees a flower shop. 49. MATER Hey, new lady friend? You like flowers? ON THE TRACK - McQueen, hearing this, is taken aback. MCQUEEN What? ON MATER - Slowing at the flower shop. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go 'in' anywhere. Just keep moving. MATER Stay outside. Gotcha. ON THE TRACK MCQUEEN Outside? McQueen drifts outside allowing Francesco to slip past! FRANCESCO Grazie and arrivaderci! DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) I cannot believe what I just saw, Brent. That was a bonehead move. You don't open up the inside like that! IN THE BACK ALLEYS - As Mater moves on he's followed by Pacers and Gremlins. Suddenly --- --- CABLES whip in front of them, pulling over flower vending machines and sending the shop's owners into a frenzy. They direct their attention to the AMCs, who try and explain. ON FINN, admiring his handiwork as he appears. Just as he turns to leave he's BROADSIDED and pushed INTO A DARK ALLEY. IN THE ALLEY - Finn finds himself boxed by two Pacers and pushed toward --- --- ACER, who now holds a FLAME THROWER. ACER This time I'm gonna make sure you stay dead. He hits the flame. WHOOOSSSH!! 50. ON ANOTHER STREET - Mater clicks along, still looking for Holley. Just as he passes the alley entrance where Finn stares down death: HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) You're doing brilliantly. Now just stay focused. MATER What's that? You want me to head toward that ruckus? Mater turns INTO the alley. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go down that street! IN THE ALLEY - Finn, now nearly pushed completely into the flame thrower, leaps into the air. He FIGHTS BACK, using his wheels, axle, indeed his entire car frame as if he were human, kicking and tossing and shooting his enemies. Mater witnesses the whole thing. MATER Wow! A live karate demonstration! ON THE TRACK - McQueen, now playing catch-up again, scowls. MCQUEEN Stop it, Mater. Just sign off. IN THE BACK ALLEY - Finn polishes off the AMCs by firing a bullet into a gas main line, causing an EXPLOSION that tosses Acer through the air where he lands in a NOODLE SHOP'S SIGN. ON THE TRACK - The end of the race is nigh --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) They're bumper to bumper as they approach the finish line! The Formula car gets there first. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco's the winner, McQueen's number two! IN THE ALLEY - Finn heaves breaths, surveys his damage. MATER That was cool! Hey, can I get your autograph? 51. Mater approaches when a MASS OF RACE FANS burst out a door, momentarily blocking Mater's view of Finn. Once the fans have past, Finn has disappeared. MATER Hey, where'd he go? HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) Our rendezvous has been jeopardized. Keep the device safe. We'll be in touch. MATER Dadgum, did I miss our date? EXT. PRESS STAGE - LATER Post race press conference. Francesco is center stage. DARRELL CARTRIP Francesco, over here! Hey, what was your strategy today? FRANCESCO Strategia? Francesco needs no strategy, it's very simple. You start the race, wait for Lightning McQueen to choke, pass him, then win. Francesco always wins. It's boring. McQueen, waiting in the wings, rolls his eyes. He suddenly notices something O.S. McQueen's P.O.V. - It's MATER, appearing from a side street, moving toward the pits, oblivious of the press conference. DARRELL CARTRIP (TO FRANCESCO) I gotta tell you, dude. You were in trouble for awhile. That dirt track section had you crawling! As McQueen SNEAKS AWAY --- FRANCESCO To truly crush one's dream, you must first raise their hopes very high. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT GARAGE - Mater looks around for everyone as McQueen approaches. 52. MCQUEEN Mater. MATER Hey McQueen! What happened? Is the race over? You won, right? MCQUEEN Mater, why were you yelling things at me while I was racing? MATER Yelling? Oh, you thought... that's funny right there. Nah, see that's `cause I seen these two fellers doing some sort of karate street performance. It was nutso. One of them even had a flamethrower --- MCQUEEN A flamethrower? What are you talking about? I don't understand. Where were you? MATER Going to meet my date. MCQUEEN Your date? MATER She started talking to me as a voice in my head, telling me where to go --- MCQUEEN What? MATER Wait a minute -- I didn't screw you up, did I? MCQUEEN I lost the race because of you! MATER Well, I'm sorry. I didn't mean --- MCQUEEN An imaginary girlfriend, flamethrowers. This is exactly why I don't bring you along to these things. 53. MATER Maybe if I, I don't know, talked to somebody and explained what happened I could help. MCQUEEN I don't need your help. I don't want your help. PRESS (O.S.) Hey, there he is!! The press finds McQueen, swarms him. Mater is pushed backwards as the questions fly again. PRESS - McQueen, you had it in the bag! - Yeah, what happened? MCQUEEN I made a mistake. But I can assure you, it won't happen again. On Mater. He takes this badly. MCQUEEN Look, guys. We know what the problem is and we've taken care of it. SMASH TO: OVER FOOTAGE OF FRANCESCO and various other highlights: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER Lightning McQueen loses in the last lap to Francesco Bernoulli in the first race of the World Grand Prix and three, count em, three cars

later

How many times the word 'later' appears in the text?

Finn. Meet HOLLEY SHIFTWELL. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. FINN That's because it's air-cooled. HOLLEY I'm Agent Shiftwell, Holley Shiftwell from the Tokyo Station. I have a message from London. FINN Not here. (LOUDLY) You must try the canapes on the mezzanine! He moves her onto an elevator. The doors close on them. IN THE ELEVATOR, GOING UP. FINN So the lab boys analyzed the photo I sent? What did they learn about the camera? HOLLEY It appears to be a standard television camera. They said if you could get closer photos next time, that would be great. FINN This was London's message? 27. HOLLEY Oh -- no, no. No sir. Um, the oil platforms you were on? Turns out they're sitting on the biggest oil reserve in the world. FINN How did we miss that? HOLLEY They'd been scrambling everyone's satellites. The Americans actually discovered it just before you did. They placed an agent on that platform, under deep cover. He was able to get a photo of the car who's running the entire operation. The doors OPEN and they exit onto the Mezzanine. FINN Who is it? Has anyone seen the photo yet? HOLLEY No, not yet. The American is here tonight to pass it to you. He'll signal you when he's ready. FINN GOOD --- Finn suddenly STOPS COLD. FINN Oh no. Professor Zundapp is visible below them. He talks with a few Pacers and Gremlins. Finn quickly retreats into the shadows. Holley follows suit. HOLLEY What is it? FINN Change of plan. You're meeting the American. HOLLEY What, me? 28. FINN Those thugs down there were on the oil platform. If they see me, the whole mission is compromised. HOLLEY No, no. I'm technical, you see. I'm in Diagnostics. I'm not a field agent. FINN You are now. CUT TO: MATER as he grabs a drink, keeps moving. MATER I'll take one of them. He snatches it, drops it in the back where we now see a large assortment of drinks balanced. MATER Never know which one McQueen'll have a hankering for. He approaches a sushi bar. MATER Hey, what you got here that's free? How about that pistachio ice cream? He refers to wasabi, of course. SUSHI CHEF No, no. Wasabi. MATER Oh, same ol', same ol'. What's up with you? That looks delicious. The chef starts to carve a small scoop aside for Mater. MATER Uh, a little more, please. It is free, right? (the chef adds more) Keep it coming. A little more. Come on, let's go, it's free! You're getting there... Scoop scoop! The chef gives in. Scoops a baseball-sized ball out. 29. MATER There you go. Now THAT's a scoop of ice cream. SUSHI CHEF (in Japanese, subtitles) My condolences. CUT BACK TO: MILES AXLEROD - He's now nearly done with his intros. MILES AXLEROD ... and now, our last competitor --- Number 95, Lightning McQueen! MCQUEEN approaches the microphone, flashes his headlights. MCQUEEN Thank you so much for having us, Sir Axlerod. I really look forward to racing. This is a great opportunity. MILES AXLEROD Oh, the pleasure is all ours, Lightning. You and your team bring excellence and professionalism to this competition. As if on cue, Mater arrives with a piercing scream of pain. Everyone turns as he charges head first toward the stage, making a bee-line for that FOUNTAIN. MATER Somebody get me water! He laps up water from the fountain like a diabetic cat. MATER (LAPPING WATER) Sweet relief... Miles Axlerod is shocked. The crowd can't believe it. Francesco cackles. Mater, now sated, approaches the mic. MATER (to the crowd) Whatever you do, do not eat the free pistachio ice cream. It has turned! MCQUEEN Sir Axlerod, I can explain. This is Mater. 30. MILES AXLEROD I know him. This is the bloke that called into the television show. (TO MATER) You're the one I have to thank. MATER No, thank you. This trip's been amazing. MILES AXLEROD (TO MCQUEEN) He's a little excited, isn't he? TILT DOWN to reveal a pool of oil beneath Mater. MCQUEEN Mater! MATER But wait, I... oh, shoot. McQueen quickly pulls Mater aside, out of earshot of Miles Axlerod and the others. McQueen is beside himself. MCQUEEN Mater, you have to get a hold of yourself. You're making a scene. MATER But I never leak oil. Never. MCQUEEN Go take care of yourself right now. Mater drives off. ON MATER - MOMENTS LATER He drives through the party, frantic. MATER Coming through! Excuse me, leakin' oil. Where's the bathroom? Thank you. I gotta go! Someone points Mater down a hallway. He whips around the CORNER --- --- and STOPS. Finds himself in front of TWO BATHROOM DOORS, neither of which clearly indicate MALE or FEMALE. 31. MATER (CONFUSED) What the... Mater chooses one, drives inside. A SHRIEK is heard and Mater zips out. MATER Sorry ladies! He heads into the other door --- CUT TO: INT. MEN'S ROOM - NIGHT Mater rolls in, still `holding it in' like a kid. MATER I never leak I never leak I never leak... He sees someone leaving a stall. He heads in. IN THE STALL - Mater enters, looks up. MATER Wowee... The stall is a complicated apparatus with buttons and lights. High-tech Japanese. It suddenly GRABS MATER, hoists him up as if he's going to get an oil change. MATER What in the--- A Japanese style cartoon CARICATURE appears on a TV MONITOR, followed by images of waterfalls and rivers. MATER (GIGGLING) Hey, that tickles. The caricature starts talking in Japanese. Suddenly WATER FIRES UP underneath Mater's undercarriage, goosing him. He freaks out. OUTSIDE THE STALL - With Mater's yells audible we see a GREMLIN enter, furtive. Suddenly, inexplicably, his frame BREAKS APART like an egg, revealing an AMERICAN MUSCLE CAR underneath. The pieces of the Gremlin disappear under him, clearly his disguise. This is ROD REDLINE - American Agent. 32. ROD REDLINE Okay, McMissile. I'm here. It's time for the drop. INT. PARTY - SAME HOLLEY, rolls along by herself. Nervous. DING! Her rearview monitor springs to life. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) The American has activated his tracking beacon. FINN (OVER RADIO) Roger that. Move in. INT. BATHROOM - SAME Rod Redline, waiting at a sink, feels a presence behind him. GREM and ACER have entered, hesitate briefly when they see Rod Redline. Rod Redline, careful, slides a gun out of his tire. He is suddenly CHARGED by the AMCs --- Rod SPINS AROUND and gets a shot off but is SLAMMED HEAD FIRST. A TIGHT, CLOSE-QUARTERS FIGHT begins --- IN THE STALL - Mater, still TRAPPED, is now being SCRUBBED as if in a car wash. He is helpless. OUTSIDE THE STALL - Rod is being pulverized. Just when he scrambles away from one car, the other one takes over. IN THE STALL - Mater is mercifully released, but when he backs out --- --- Rod Redline is THROWN INTO MATER'S STALL DOOR, crunching it and sending Mater --- --- BACK INTO THE CLUTCHES of the insane toilet. INT. PARTY - SAME Holley isolates the tracking beacon's location in the party. HOLLEY Oh, you've got to be joking. FINN What's the problem, Shiftwell? HOLLEY He's in the loo. 33. FINN So go in! HOLLEY I can't just go into the men's loo. FINN Time is of the essence, Shiftwell. INT. BATHROOM - OUTSIDE THE STALL Rod Redline is in bad shape. He backs away, betrays a look of concern. He's in trouble here. ACER burns rubber, ready to finish him off. Just as he shifts into DRIVE --- --- MATER'S STALL DOOR KICKS OPEN, knocking ACER out. Mater jumps out, face-to-face GREM. MATER (out of breath) Whatever you do, I would not go in there. The door SWINGS shut, revealing the pulverized Acer. MATER A Gremlin and a Pacer! Rod Redline, now behind Mater and sensing an opportunity here, quickly produces A SMALL DEVICE. MATER (to Grem and Acer) No offense to your makes and models, but you guys break down harder than my cousin Betsy after she got left at the --- Rod Redline, surreptitiously attaches the device to Mater's undercarriage. MATER (as he's goosed) --- altar! He spins around, sees Rod Redline for the first time. MATER Are you okay? ROD REDLINE I'm fine. 34. GREM Hey. Tow truck. Mater turns back to Grem and Acer. GREM We'd like to get to our private business here, if you don't mind. MATER Oh, yeah. Don't let me get in the way of your "private business." Oh! A little advice: When you hear her giggle and see that waterfall, you best press that green button. GREM Thank you. MATER It's to adjust the temperature. ACER Got it. MATER Remember it's in Celsius, not Fahrenheit. GREM AND ACER Get outta here! MATER Alright then. Mater exits, leaving Rod Redline to a now even angrier Grem and Acer. EXT. BATHROOM - MOMENTS LATER Holley arrives at the door. She takes a breath, is about to enter when Mater EXITS. MATER Excuse me, ma'am. He passes her, expelling some exhaust in the process. Holley's rearview tracking confirms that the device is on him. MATER (TO HIMSELF) Dadgum pistachio ice cream. 35. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) This cannot be him. FINN (OVER RADIO) Is he American? MATER (driving off, to himself) Look out, ladies. Mater's fittin' to get funky! HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Extremely. FINN (OVER RADIO) Then it's him. It's settled. Holley takes one more nervous breath, quickly closes the distance between her and Mater, cuts him off. He is forced to STOP. HOLLEY Hello. MATER Well, hello. HOLLEY A Volkswagen Karmann Ghia has no radiator. MATER Well of course it doesn't. That's `cause it's air-cooled! HOLLEY (RELIEVED) Perfect. I'm from the Tokyo Station OF THE--- MATER Course, Karmann Ghia's weren't the only ones. Besides the Beetles you had your Type-3 Squarebacks, with the pancake motors... HOLLEY Yeah. Okay, I get it--- MATER ... And before both of them, there's the Type-2 buses - my buddy Fillmore's one of them. 36. HOLLEY Listen! We should find somewhere more private. MATER Uh, gee. Don't you think that's a little, uh --- HOLLEY (NERVOUS ENERGY) You're right. Impossible to know which areas here are compromised. So, when can I see you again? MATER Well, let's see. Tomorrow I'll be out there at the races. HOLLEY Got it. We'll rendezvous then. INT. PARTY - MOMENTS LATER Mater returns to his team, lost in thought. MCQUEEN There you are. Where have you been? MATER What's a rendezvous? LUIGI It's like a date. MATER A date?! MCQUEEN Mater, what's going on? MATER Well, what's going on is I've got me a date tomorrow. Guido makes a crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido don't believe you. MATER Well, believe it. My new girlfriend just said so. Hey, there she is. Mater points out Holley, who's within earshot. 37. MATER (YELLING) Hey! Hey lady! Holley, caught in plain view, DRIVES OFF. MATER See ya tomorrow! Guido makes another crack in Italian. LUIGI Guido still don't believe you. EXT. SHIPYARD - THE DOCKS - TOKYO NIGHT An industrial dock, outside of the city proper. INT. SHIPYARD - NIGHT Rod Redline dangles from a car magnet. He's been beaten up, clings to consciousness. GREM (O.S.) I gotta admit --- Grem, Acer, and a bunch of nasty looking troublemakers look up at Rod amidst crates and shipping containers. GREM --- you tricked us real good. ACER And we don't like being tricked. Rod Redline laughs to himself. ACER Hey, what's so funny? ROD REDLINE Well, you know, I was just wearing a disguise. You guys are stuck looking like that. This doesn't help him. They DROP HIM onto a TREADMILL, lock him down. A container is wheeled forward and Rod is plied with Allinol brand gasoline. ROD REDLINE Allinol? Thanks, fellas. I hear this stuff is good for you. 38. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (O.S.) So you think. The Professor emerges from the darkness, behind Rod. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Allinol by itself is good for you. Zundapp hits a button and the TREADMILL starts Rod's wheels spinning at a high rate of speed. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP But after microscopic examination, I have found that it has one small weakness. When hit with an electromagnetic pulse, it becomes extremely dangerous. GREM SMILE --- Grem pushes a World Grand Prix CAMERA - the same one that was in the box back at the oil derrick. He points it at Rod Redline. GREM --- for the camera. ROD REDLINE Is that all you want? I got a whole act. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You were very interested in this camera on the oil platform. Now you will witness what it really does. ROD REDLINE Whatever you say, Professor. Acer pushes a TV MONITOR toward Rod. On it, surveillance footage from the party. Clearly, they were watching and recording him there. ACER You talked up a lot of cars last night. Which one's your associate? ROD REDLINE Your mother. Oh no, I'm sorry. It was your sister. You know, I can't tell them apart these days. 39. GREM (HAD ENOUGH) Could I start it now, Professor? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP Fifty percent power. (to Rod Redline) This camera is actually an electromagnetic pulse emitter. ACER (re: a girl on the TV) What about her? Did you give it to her? PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The Allinol is now heating to a boil, dramatically expanding, causing the engine block to crack under the stress, forcing oil into the combustion chamber. Rod Redline's engine starts to CRACK and BREAK. ACER (re: a guy on the TV) How about him? You talk to him? ROD REDLINE (to Professor Zundapp) What do I care? I can replace an engine block. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP You may be able to, but after full impact of the pulse, unfortunately, there will be nothing to replace. ACER How about him? Does he have it? The monitor reveals MATER, rolling out of the bathroom and down the hall. Rod Redline, seeing this, does the world's most subtle double take. We caught it, but there's no way anyone else in the room could have --- PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP That's him. He's the one. GREM Roger that, Professor Z. 40. ROD REDLINE No! As Grem turns up the machine even MORE, the Professor makes a call. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (INTO PHONE) Yes sir. We believe the infiltrator has passed along sensitive information. (beat, listening) I will take care of it before any damage can be done. The Professor hangs up, turns to the room. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP The project is still on schedule. You will find this second agent --- Zundapp kicks the camera's power into the RED. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP --- and kill him. On the MONITOR - With Mater's frozen image on the screen we see Rod EXPLODE in the reflection. EXT. JAPAN - DAY Over television pre-roll of Japan: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Japan. Land of the rising sun. Where ancient tradition meets modern technology. Welcome to the inaugural running of the World Grand Prix. ON OUR ANNOUNCERS as they introduce themselves: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER I'm Brent Mustangburger, here with racing legends Darrell Cartrip and David Hobbscap. There's never been a competition like this before. SHOTS OF THE PITS as the racers fuel up. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) First, Allinol, making its debut tonight as the required fuel for all these great champions. (MORE) 41. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) (CONT'D) Second, the course itself, and it's like nothing we've ever seen. David, how exactly does this competition work? DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Well, Brent, all three of these street courses are classic round- the-house racetracks. OUTLINES OF THREE RACE COURSES are shown. They're labeled Japan, Italy and England, and are different in shape and size. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) This means that the LMP and Formula cars should break out of the gate in spectacular fashion. SHOTS OF THE RACERS as they weave up the track, practicing. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Look for Francesco Bernoulli in particular to lead early. SHOTS OF Francesco, featured in an inset. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) And with a series of technical turns throughout --- MORE SHOTS of the course, now highlighting the tech turns. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) GT and Touring cars like Spain's Miguel Camino should make up some ground but I doubt it'll be enough to stop Francesco from absolutely running away with it. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Woah, now just hold your horsepower. You're forgetting the most important factor here. That early dirt track section of the course! The dirt is supposed to be the great equalizer in this race. GRAPHICS OF THE COURSES now isolate a stretch after the first couple turns, label it "DIRT SECTIONS." 42. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) French Rally car Raoul aRoule is counting on a big boost headed through there. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) And don't forget Lightning McQueen! His mentor, the Hudson Hornet, was one of the greatest dirt track racers of all time. In my opinion, McQueen is the best all-around racer in this competition. BACK IN THE STUDIO DAVID HOBBSCAP Really, Darrell, I think you need to clean your windshield. You're clearly not seeing this for what it is: Francesco's race to lose. EXT. STARTING LINE - DAY BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) It's time to find out. The racers are locking into the grid --- Engines rev as everyone gets ready to go. Everyone's bright eyed and alert except for McQueen who we find in the back of the grid. He CLOSES his eyes. MCQUEEN (TO HIMSELF) Speed. I am speed. A LAUGH O.S. McQueen opens his eyes. Francesco is next to him on the grid. FRANCESCO Really? You are "speed"? Then Francesco is triple speed. (closes his eyes) Francesco. Is. Triple speed. Francesco likes this, McQueen. It's really getting him into the zone! MCQUEEN He is so getting beat today. The starting lights click down from RED to YELLOW to GREEN. The race begins. Francesco quickly grabs the lead. He's pulling away within seconds. 43. ON PIT ROW - We TRACK PAST as the various Crew Chiefs on their crash carts bark orders to their racers. We end on Team McQueen. No Crew Chief, just a solid looking team. SARGE His suspension stats look good. LUIGI Tire pressure is excellent. FILLMORE He's got plenty of fuel. MATER And he's awesome! CUT TO: The same view of Mater but now THROUGH A TELESCOPIC DISPLAY. Reveal Finn and Holley watching from high above in a downtown office building, behind reflective glass. HOLLEY Why is he in the pits? He's so exposed. FINN It's his cover. One of the best I've seen, too. Look at the detail on that rust. It must have cost him a fortune. HOLLEY But why hasn't he contacted us yet? FINN There's probably heat on him. Be patient. HOLLEY Right, of course. He'll signal us when he can. FINN And then we find out who's behind all this. ON THE TRACK - VARIOUS SHOTS OF THE RACE through Tokyo as Francesco extends his lead and McQueen attempts to make up ground. 44. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - Mater watches the monitors, sees them approaching the dirt section. MATER McQueen! It's time to make your move. Get on the outside and show 'em what Doc done taught you. MCQUEEN (OVER RADIO) Ten four, Mater. ON THE TRACK - Francesco hits the dirt section and loses all control. He SLAMS to a halt, his tires getting no traction. DAVID HOBBSCAP (V.O.) Francesco is brought to a screeching halt! MCQUEEN skids into view, turning right to go left, passing Francesco, followed by other cars --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Lightning McQueen is the first to take advantage. And just like that, folks, Francesco's lead is left in the dust. MCQUEEN Nice call, Mater. Keep it up! McQueen now leads the pack, zooming out of the dirt now starting to relax. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Who-hoo! Man, McQueen looks happier than a rollbar at a demolition derby! ON PAVED ROAD AGAIN - MOMENTS LATER The field of cars thunders into a tunnel. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Everyone's jostling for position as we hit the asphalt again. Francesco crests the hill, in last place. He bites down, determined, then CHASES. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco lost a lot of momentum in the dirt. He's got some serious work ahead of him if he wants to get back in this race. 45. VARIOUS SHOTS OF TOKYO as the racers move through the Rainbow Bridge. Bit by bit, Francesco ekes his way toward the front, toward Lightning McQueen as we CUT TO --- --- A ROOFTOP, and a VIEW THROUGH THE WGP CAMERA LENS. Grem and Acer are manning this one. They focus it on the racers as they approach. PROFESSOR ZUNDAPP (OVER RADIO) It is time. GREM Roger that. ON THE TRACK - A racer (Miguel Camino) suddenly PLUMES WITH SMOKE and skids out. DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) Oh! Miguel Camino has blown an engine! BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Very unusual, Darrell. He's been so consistent all year. Camino quickly pits, passing McQueen's pit where Mater is visible. ON GREM AND ACER, watching from above. GREM You gotta be kidding me. ACER What is it? GREM It's that tow truck from the bathroom. ACER The one from the bathroom? GREM Yeah, the one the American Agent passed the device to. ACER What about him? GREM What about him? He's in the pits! 46. ACER Not for long. Acer exits, with purpose. ON FINN AND HOLLEY, still in their office hideaway. Holley's onboard computer flashes an ALERT. HOLLEY Hold on. I think I've got something. FINN What is it? HOLLEY The Pacer from the party last night. She's spotted Acer, moving swiftly forward. HOLLEY Cross-referencing with the photos from the oil derricks... Yep. His VIN numbers match. FINN Anyone with him? He won't be alone. HOLLEY Conducting analysis on the target. The computer finds more and more bad guy Pacers and Gremlins are in the crowd. HOLLEY He's not the only one here. Three... five... they're everywhere. And they're all closing in on... oh no. We PAN OVER to see it's MATER. HOLLEY Finn? Finn, where are you? She turns. He's GONE, leaving only an open window. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of the pits now! IN MCQUEEN'S PIT. A car WHIPS BY O.S. 47. MATER Wow! Some of them fellers is really loud. HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Can you hear me? Over. MATER Uh, what? HOLLEY (OVER MATER'S RADIO) Get out of the pit now. Do you hear me? Mater realizes this girl has somehow broken into his radio. MATER (INTO RADIO) Hey, I know you. You're that girl from the party last night. You wanna do our date right now? ON THE TRACK - McQueen boxes out Francesco, holds his slim lead, but barely. MCQUEEN Guys, a little too much chatter. Let's keep this line clear. BOOM! A racer behind McQueen suddenly expels black smoke, skids out of control. ON GREM - laughing. That was clearly his handiwork. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT - SAME HOLLEY (ON MATER'S RADIO) There's no time for messing about. You've got to get out of the pits. MATER Is there gonna be cable where you is so I can watch the rest of the race? ON HOLLEY - Watching from the downtown building. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) You're running out of time! FINN (OVER RADIO) They're coming, Shiftwell. HOLLEY (INTO RADIO) Yes, I know. 48. FINN (OVER RADIO) Get him out of there. HOLLEY (TO FINN) I'm trying. (TO MATER) Get out now! We CUT BACK TO --- --- MATER. He gives in, exits the pit. MATER Well, all right but I usually like to have a proper detailing done before I meet a lady friend. He moves toward the back PIT DOOR, is about to open it. OUTSIDE THE PITS - ACER and another Pacer approach McQueen's pit door on the other side. Ready to pounce. The doors OPEN, REVEALING --- --- Finn, holding a fire extinguisher. ACER Finn McMissile? But you're dead! FINN Then this shouldn't hurt at all. He empties the extinguisher in their eyes, speeds past. They try and follow, but have been blinded. One of them crashes right into a COP. ON FINN - Already on the move, along a side street. FINN Miss Shiftwell? ON HOLLEY - Tracking everything on a grid map. Mater looks like Pac Man, weaving through the streets as bad guys close in all around him. HOLLEY I've got him in the back alleys east of the garages. Multiple assailants are closing in quickly. FINN (OVER RADIO) Keep him moving. I'm on my way. ON MATER - He turns a corner, sees a flower shop. 49. MATER Hey, new lady friend? You like flowers? ON THE TRACK - McQueen, hearing this, is taken aback. MCQUEEN What? ON MATER - Slowing at the flower shop. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go 'in' anywhere. Just keep moving. MATER Stay outside. Gotcha. ON THE TRACK MCQUEEN Outside? McQueen drifts outside allowing Francesco to slip past! FRANCESCO Grazie and arrivaderci! DARRELL CARTRIP (V.O.) I cannot believe what I just saw, Brent. That was a bonehead move. You don't open up the inside like that! IN THE BACK ALLEYS - As Mater moves on he's followed by Pacers and Gremlins. Suddenly --- --- CABLES whip in front of them, pulling over flower vending machines and sending the shop's owners into a frenzy. They direct their attention to the AMCs, who try and explain. ON FINN, admiring his handiwork as he appears. Just as he turns to leave he's BROADSIDED and pushed INTO A DARK ALLEY. IN THE ALLEY - Finn finds himself boxed by two Pacers and pushed toward --- --- ACER, who now holds a FLAME THROWER. ACER This time I'm gonna make sure you stay dead. He hits the flame. WHOOOSSSH!! 50. ON ANOTHER STREET - Mater clicks along, still looking for Holley. Just as he passes the alley entrance where Finn stares down death: HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) You're doing brilliantly. Now just stay focused. MATER What's that? You want me to head toward that ruckus? Mater turns INTO the alley. HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) No! Don't go down that street! IN THE ALLEY - Finn, now nearly pushed completely into the flame thrower, leaps into the air. He FIGHTS BACK, using his wheels, axle, indeed his entire car frame as if he were human, kicking and tossing and shooting his enemies. Mater witnesses the whole thing. MATER Wow! A live karate demonstration! ON THE TRACK - McQueen, now playing catch-up again, scowls. MCQUEEN Stop it, Mater. Just sign off. IN THE BACK ALLEY - Finn polishes off the AMCs by firing a bullet into a gas main line, causing an EXPLOSION that tosses Acer through the air where he lands in a NOODLE SHOP'S SIGN. ON THE TRACK - The end of the race is nigh --- BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) They're bumper to bumper as they approach the finish line! The Formula car gets there first. BRENT MUSTANGBURGER (V.O.) Francesco's the winner, McQueen's number two! IN THE ALLEY - Finn heaves breaths, surveys his damage. MATER That was cool! Hey, can I get your autograph? 51. Mater approaches when a MASS OF RACE FANS burst out a door, momentarily blocking Mater's view of Finn. Once the fans have past, Finn has disappeared. MATER Hey, where'd he go? HOLLEY (OVER RADIO) Our rendezvous has been jeopardized. Keep the device safe. We'll be in touch. MATER Dadgum, did I miss our date? EXT. PRESS STAGE - LATER Post race press conference. Francesco is center stage. DARRELL CARTRIP Francesco, over here! Hey, what was your strategy today? FRANCESCO Strategia? Francesco needs no strategy, it's very simple. You start the race, wait for Lightning McQueen to choke, pass him, then win. Francesco always wins. It's boring. McQueen, waiting in the wings, rolls his eyes. He suddenly notices something O.S. McQueen's P.O.V. - It's MATER, appearing from a side street, moving toward the pits, oblivious of the press conference. DARRELL CARTRIP (TO FRANCESCO) I gotta tell you, dude. You were in trouble for awhile. That dirt track section had you crawling! As McQueen SNEAKS AWAY --- FRANCESCO To truly crush one's dream, you must first raise their hopes very high. IN MCQUEEN'S PIT GARAGE - Mater looks around for everyone as McQueen approaches. 52. MCQUEEN Mater. MATER Hey McQueen! What happened? Is the race over? You won, right? MCQUEEN Mater, why were you yelling things at me while I was racing? MATER Yelling? Oh, you thought... that's funny right there. Nah, see that's `cause I seen these two fellers doing some sort of karate street performance. It was nutso. One of them even had a flamethrower --- MCQUEEN A flamethrower? What are you talking about? I don't understand. Where were you? MATER Going to meet my date. MCQUEEN Your date? MATER She started talking to me as a voice in my head, telling me where to go --- MCQUEEN What? MATER Wait a minute -- I didn't screw you up, did I? MCQUEEN I lost the race because of you! MATER Well, I'm sorry. I didn't mean --- MCQUEEN An imaginary girlfriend, flamethrowers. This is exactly why I don't bring you along to these things. 53. MATER Maybe if I, I don't know, talked to somebody and explained what happened I could help. MCQUEEN I don't need your help. I don't want your help. PRESS (O.S.) Hey, there he is!! The press finds McQueen, swarms him. Mater is pushed backwards as the questions fly again. PRESS - McQueen, you had it in the bag! - Yeah, what happened? MCQUEEN I made a mistake. But I can assure you, it won't happen again. On Mater. He takes this badly. MCQUEEN Look, guys. We know what the problem is and we've taken care of it. SMASH TO: OVER FOOTAGE OF FRANCESCO and various other highlights: BRENT MUSTANGBURGER Lightning McQueen loses in the last lap to Francesco Bernoulli in the first race of the World Grand Prix and three, count em, three cars

aspirations

How many times the word 'aspirations' appears in the text?

First, he talks as if the only thing of any importance in life was which particular woman he shall marry. Second, he has no self-control. THE GENERAL. Women are not all the same to me, Lesbia. MRS GEORGE. Why should they be, pray? Women are all different: it's the men who are all the same. Besides, what does Miss Grantham know about either men or women? She's got too much self- control. LESBIA [widening her eyes and lifting her chin haughtily] And pray how does that prevent me from knowing as much about men and women as people who have no self-control? MRS GEORGE. Because it frightens people into behaving themselves before you; and then how can you tell what they really are? Look at me! I was a spoilt child. My brothers and sisters were well brought up, like all children of respectable publicans. So should I have been if I hadnt been the youngest: ten years younger than my youngest brother. My parents were tired of doing their duty by their children by that time; and they spoilt me for all they were worth. I never knew what it was to want money or anything that money could buy. When I wanted my own way, I had nothing to do but scream for it till I got it. When I was annoyed I didnt control myself: I scratched and called names. Did you ever, after you were grown up, pull a grown-up woman's hair? Did you ever bite a grown-up man? Did you ever call both of them every name you could lay your tongue to? LESBIA [shivering with disgust] No. MRS GEORGE. Well, I did. I know what a woman is like when her hair's pulled. I know what a man is like when he's bit. I know what theyre both like when you tell them what you really feel about them. And thats how I know more of the world than you. LESBIA. The Chinese know what a man is like when he is cut into a thousand pieces, or boiled in oil. That sort of knowledge is of no use to me. I'm afraid we shall never get on with one another, Mrs George. I live like a fencer, always on guard. I like to be confronted with people who are always on guard. I hate sloppy people, slovenly people, people who cant sit up straight, sentimental people. MRS GEORGE. Oh, sentimental your grandmother! You dont learn to hold your own in the world by standing on guard, but by attacking, and getting well hammered yourself. LESBIA. I'm not a prize-fighter, Mrs. Collins. If I cant get a thing without the indignity of fighting for it, I do without it. MRS GEORGE. Do you? Does it strike you that if we were all as clever as you at doing without, there wouldnt be much to live for, would there? TAE GENERAL. I'm afraid, Lesbia, the things you do without are the things you dont want. LESBIA [surprised at his wit] Thats not bad for the silly soldier man. Yes, Boxer: the truth is, I dont want you enough to make the very unreasonable sacrifices required by marriage. And yet that is exactly why I ought to be married. Just because I have the qualities my country wants most I shall go barren to my grave; whilst the women who have neither the strength to resist marriage nor the intelligence to understand its infinite dishonor will make the England of the future. [She rises and walks towards the study]. THE GENERAL [as she is about to pass him] Well, I shall not ask you again, Lesbia. LESBIA. Thank you, Boxer. [She passes on to the study door]. MRS GEORGE. Youre quite done with him, are you? LESBIA. As far as marriage is concerned, yes. The field is clear for you, Mrs George. [She goes into the study]. The General buries his face in his hands. Mrs George comes round the table to him. MRS GEORGE [sympathetically] She's a nice woman, that. And a sort of beauty about her too, different from anyone else. THE GENERAL [overwhelmed] Oh Mrs Collins, thank you, thank you a thousand times. [He rises effusively]. You have thawed the long- frozen springs [he kisses her hand]. Forgive me; and thank you: bless you--[he again takes refuge in the garden, choked with emotion]. MRS GEORGE [looking after him triumphantly] Just caught the dear old warrior on the bounce, eh? HOTCHKISS. Unfaithful to me already! MRS GEORGE. I'm not your property, young man dont you think it. [She goes over to him and faces him]. You understand that? [He suddenly snatches her into his arms and kisses her]. Oh! You. dare do that again, you young blackguard; and I'll jab one of these chairs in your face [she seizes one and holds it in readiness]. Now you shall not see me for another month. HOTCHKISS [deliberately] I shall pay my first visit to your husband this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. Youll see what he'll say to you when I tell him what youve just done. HOTCHKISS. What can he say? What dare he say? MRS GEORGE. Suppose he kicks you out of the house? HOTCHKISS. How can he? Ive fought seven duels with sabres. Ive muscles of iron. Nothing hurts me: not even broken bones. Fighting is absolutely uninteresting to me because it doesnt frighten me or amuse me; and I always win. Your husband is in all these respects an average man, probably. He will be horribly afraid of me; and if under the stimulus of your presence, and for your sake, and because it is the right thing to do among vulgar people, he were to attack me, I should simply defeat him and humiliate him [he gradually gets his hands on the chair and takes it from her, as his words go home phrase by phrase]. Sooner than expose him to that, you would suffer a thousand stolen kisses, wouldnt you? MRS GEORGE [in utter consternation] You young viper! HOTCHKISS. Ha ha! You are in my power. That is one of the oversights of your code of honor for husbands: the man who can bully them can insult their wives with impunity. Tell him if you dare. If I choose to take ten kisses, how will you prevent me? MRS GEORGE. You come within reach of me and I'll not leave a hair on your head. HOTCHKISS [catching her wrists dexterously] Ive got your hands. MRS GEORGE. Youve not got my teeth. Let go; or I'll bite. I will, I tell you. Let go. HOTCHKISS. Bite away: I shall taste quite as nice as George. MRS GEORGE. You beast. Let me go. Do you call yourself a gentleman, to use your brute strength against a woman? HOTCHKISS. You are stronger than me in every way but this. Do you think I will give up my one advantage? Promise youll receive me when I call this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. After what youve just done? Not if it was to save my life. HOTCHKISS. I'll amuse George. MRS GEORGE. He wont be in. HOTCHKISS [taken aback] Do you mean that we should be alone? MRS GEORGE [snatching away her hands triumphantly as his grasp relaxes] Aha! Thats cooled you, has it? HOTCHKISS [anxiously] When will George be at home? MRS GEORGE. It wont matter to you whether he's at home or not. The door will be slammed in your face whenever you call. HOTCHKISS. No servant in London is strong enough to close a door that I mean to keep open. You cant escape me. If you persist, I'll go into the coal trade; make George's acquaintance on the coal exchange; and coax him to take me home with him to make your acquaintance. MRS GEORGE. We have no use for you, young man: neither George nor I [she sails away from him and sits down at the end of the table near the study door]. HOTCHKISS [following her and taking the next chair round the corner of the table] Yes you have. George cant fight for you: I can. MRS GEORGE [turning to face him] You bully. You low bully. HOTCHKISS. You have courage and fascination: I have courage and a pair of fists. We're both bullies, Polly. MRS GEORGE. You have a mischievous tongue. Thats enough to keep you out of my house. HOTCHKISS. It must be rather a house of cards. A word from me to George--just the right word, said in the right way--and down comes your house. MRS GEORGE. Thats why I'll die sooner than let you into it. HOTCHKISS. Then as surely as you live, I enter the coal trade to- morrow. George's taste for amusing company will deliver him into my hands. Before a month passes your home will be at my mercy. MRS GEORGE [rising, at bay] Do you think I'll let myself be driven into a trap like this? HOTCHKISS. You are in it already. Marriage is a trap. You are married. Any man who has the power to spoil your marriage has the power to spoil your life. I have that power over you. MRS GEORGE [desperate] You mean it? HOTCHKISS. I do. MRS GEORGE [resolutely] Well, spoil my marriage and be-- HOTCHKISS [springing up] Polly! MRS GEORGE. Sooner than be your slave I'd face any unhappiness. HOTCHKISS. What! Even for George? MRS GEORGE. There must be honor between me and George, happiness or no happiness. Do your worst. HOTCHKISS [admiring her] Are you really game, Polly? Dare you defy me? MRS GEORGE. If you ask me another question I shant be able to keep my hands off you [she dashes distractedly past him to the other end of the table, her fingers crisping]. HOTCHKISS. That settles it. Polly: I adore you: we were born for one another. As I happen to be a gentleman, I'll never do anything to annoy or injure you except that I reserve the right to give you a black eye if you bite me; but youll never get rid of me now to the end of your life. MRS GEORGE. I shall get rid of you if the beadle has to brain you with the mace for it [she makes for the tower]. HOTCHKISS [running between the table and the oak chest and across to the tower to cut her off] You shant. MRS GEORGE [panting] Shant I though? HOTCHKISS. No you shant. I have one card left to play that youve forgotten. Why were you so unlike yourself when you spoke to the Bishop? MRS GEORGE [agitated beyond measure] Stop. Not that. You shall respect that if you respect nothing else. I forbid you. [He kneels at her feet]. What are you doing? Get up: dont be a fool. HOTCHKISS. Polly: I ask you on my knees to let me make George's acquaintance in his home this afternoon; and I shall remain on my knees till the Bishop comes in and sees us. What will he think of you then? MRS GEORGE [beside herself] Wheres the poker? She rushes to the fireplace; seizes the poker; and makes for Hotchkiss, who flies to the study door. The Bishop enters just then and finds himself between them, narrowly escaping a blow from the poker. THE BISHOP. Dont hit him, Mrs Collins. He is my guest. Mrs George throws down the poker; collapses into the nearest chair; and bursts into tears. The Bishop goes to her and pats her consolingly on the shoulder. She shudders all through at his touch. THE BISHOP. Come! you are in the house of your friends. Can we help you? MRS GEORGE [to Hotchkiss, pointing to the study] Go in there, you. Youre not wanted here. HOTCHKISS. You understand, Bishop, that Mrs Collins is not to blame for this scene. I'm afraid Ive been rather irritating. THE BISHOP. I can quite believe it, Sinjon. Hotchkiss goes into the study. THE BISHOP [turning to Mrs George with great kindness of manner] I'm sorry you have been worried [he sits down on her left]. Never mind him. A little pluck, a little gaiety of heart, a little prayer; and youll be laughing at him. MRS GEORGE. Never fear. I have all that. It was as much my fault as his; and I should have put him in his place with a clip of that poker on the side of his head if you hadnt come in. THE BISHOP. You might have put him in his coffin that way, Mrs Collins. And I should have been very sorry; because we are all fond of Sinjon. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's your duty to rebuke me. But do you think I dont know? THE BISHOP. I dont rebuke you. Who am I that I should rebuke you? Besides, I know there are discussions in which the poker is the only possible argument. MRS GEORGE. My lord: be earnest with me. I'm a very funny woman, I daresay; but I come from the same workshop as you. I heard you say that yourself years ago. THE BISHOP. Quite so; but then I'm a very funny Bishop. Since we are both funny people, let us not forget that humor is a divine attribute. MRS GEORGE. I know nothing about divine attributes or whatever you call them; but I can feel when I am being belittled. It was from you that I learnt first to respect myself. It was through you that I came to be able to walk safely through many wild and wilful paths. Dont go back on your own teaching. THE BISHOP. I'm not a teacher: only a fellow-traveller of whom you asked the way. I pointed ahead--ahead of myself as well as of you. MRS GEORGE [rising and standing over him almost threateningly] As I'm a living woman this day, if I find you out to be a fraud, I'll kill myself. THE BISHOP. What! Kill yourself for finding out something! For becoming a wiser and therefore a better woman! What a bad reason! MRS GEORGE. I have sometimes thought of killing you, and then killing myself. THE BISHOP. Why on earth should you kill yourself--not to mention me? MRS GEORGE. So that we might keep our assignation in Heaven. THE BISHOP [rising and facing her, breathless] Mrs. Collins! YOU are Incognita Appassionata! MRS GEORGE. You read my letters, then? [With a sigh of grateful relief, she sits down quietly, and says] Thank you. THE BISHOP [remorsefully] And I have broken the spell by making you come here [sitting down again]. Can you ever forgive me? MRS GEORGE. You couldnt know that it was only the coal merchant's wife, could you? THE BISHOP. Why do you say only the coal merchant's wife? MRS GEORGE. Many people would laugh at it. THE BISHOP. Poor people! It's so hard to know the right place to laugh, isnt it? MRS GEORGE. I didnt mean to make you think the letters were from a fine lady. I wrote on cheap paper; and I never could spell. THE BISHOP. Neither could I. So that told me nothing. MRS GEORGE. One thing I should like you to know. THE BISHOP. Yes? MRS GEORGE. We didnt cheat your friend. They were as good as we could do at thirteen shillings a ton. THE BISHOP. Thats important. Thank you for telling me. MRS GEORGE. I have something else to say; but will you please ask somebody to come and stay here while we talk? [He rises and turns to the study door]. Not a woman, if you dont mind. [He nods understandingly and passes on]. Not a man either. THE BISHOP [stopping] Not a man and not a woman! We have no children left, Mrs Collins. They are all grown up and married. MRS GEORGE. That other clergyman would do. THE BISHOP. What! The sexton? MRS GEORGE. Yes. He didnt mind my calling him that, did he? It was only my ignorance. THE BISHOP. Not at all. [He opens the study door and calls] Soames! Anthony! [To Mrs George] Call him Father: he likes it. [Soames appears at the study door]. Mrs Collins wishes you to join us, Anthony. Soames looks puzzled. MRS GEORGE. You dont mind, Dad, do you? [As this greeting visibly gives him a shock that hardly bears out the Bishop's advice, she says anxiously] That was what you told me to call him, wasnt it? SOAMES. I am called Father Anthony, Mrs Collins. But it does not matter what you call me. [He comes in, and walks past her to the hearth]. THE BISHOP. Mrs Collins has something to say to me that she wants you to hear. SOAMES. I am listening. THE BISHOP [going back to his seat next her] Now. MRS GEORGE. My lord: you should never have married. SOAMES. This woman is inspired. Listen to her, my lord. THE BISHOP [taken aback by the directness of the attack] I married because I was so much in love with Alice that all the difficulties and doubts and dangers of marriage seemed to me the merest moonshine. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's mean to let poor things in for so much while theyre in that state. Would you marry now that you know better if you were a widower? THE BISHOP. I'm old now. It wouldnt matter. MRS GEORGE. But would you if it did matter? THE BISHOP. I think I should marry again lest anyone should imagine I had found marriage unhappy with Alice. SOAMES [sternly] Are you fonder of your wife than of your salvation? THE BISHOP. Oh, very much. When you meet a man who is very particular about his salvation, look out for a woman who is very particular about her character; and marry them to one another: theyll make a perfect pair. I advise you to fall in love; Anthony. SOAMES [with horror] I!! THE BISHOP. Yes, you! think of what it would do for you. For her sake you would come to care unselfishly and diligently for money instead of being selfishly and lazily indifferent to it. For her sake you would come to care in the same way for preferment. For her sake you would come to care for your health, your appearance, the good opinion of your fellow creatures, and all the really important things that make men work and strive instead of mooning and nursing their salvation. SOAMES. In one word, for the sake of one deadly sin I should come to care for all the others. THE BISHOP. Saint Anthony! Tempt him, Mrs Collins: tempt him. MRS GEORGE [rising and looking strangely before her] Take care, my lord: you still have the power to make me obey your commands. And do you, Mr Sexton, beware of an empty heart. THE BISHOP. Yes. Nature abhors a vacuum, Anthony. I would not dare go about with an empty heart: why, the first girl I met would fly into it by mere atmospheric pressure. Alice keeps them out now. Mrs Collins knows. MRS GEORGE [a faint convulsion passing like a wave over her] I know more than either of you. One of you has not yet exhausted his first love: the other has not yet reached it. But I--I--[she reels and is again convulsed]. THE BISHOP [saving her from falling] Whats the matter? Are you ill, Mrs Collins? [He gets her back into her chair]. Soames: theres a glass of water in the study--quick. [Soames hurries to the study door.] MRS. GEORGE. No. [Soames stops]. Dont call. Dont bring anyone. Cant you hear anything? THE BISHOP. Nothing unusual. [He sits by her, watching her with intense surprise and interest]. MRS GEORGE. No music? SOAMES. No. [He steals to the end of the table and sits on her right, equally interested]. MRS GEORGE. Do you see nothing--not a great light? THE BISHOP. We are still walking in darkness. MRS GEORGE. Put your hand on my forehead: the hand with the ring. [He does so. Her eyes close]. SOAMES [inspired to prophesy] There was a certain woman, the wife of a coal merchant, which had been a great sinner . . . The Bishop, startled, takes his hand away. Mrs George's eyes open vividly as she interrupts Soames. MRS GEORGE. You prophesy falsely, Anthony: never in all my life have I done anything that was not ordained for me. [More quietly] Ive been myself. Ive not been afraid of myself. And at last I have escaped from myself, and am become a voice for them that are afraid to speak, and a cry for the hearts that break in silence. SOAMES [whispering] Is she inspired? THE BISHOP. Marvellous. Hush. MRS GEORGE. I have earned the right to speak. I have dared: I have gone through: I have not fallen withered in the fire: I have come at last out beyond, to the back of Godspeed? THE BISHOP. And what do you see there, at the back of Godspeed? SOAMES [hungrily] Give us your message. MRS GEORGE [with intensely sad reproach] When you loved me I gave you the whole sun and stars to play with. I gave you eternity in a single moment, strength of the mountains in one clasp of your arms, and the volume of all the seas in one impulse of your souls. A moment only; but was it not enough? Were you not paid then for all the rest of your struggle on earth? Must I mend your clothes and sweep your floors as well? Was it not enough? I paid the price without bargaining: I bore the children without flinching: was that a reason for heaping fresh burdens on me? I carried the child in my arms: must I carry the father too? When I opened the gates of paradise, were you blind? was it nothing to you? When all the stars sang in your ears and all the winds swept you into the heart of heaven, were you deaf? were you dull? was I no more to you than a bone to a dog? Was it not enough? We spent eternity together; and you ask me for a little lifetime more. We possessed all the universe together; and you ask me to give you my scanty wages as well. I have given you the greatest of all things; and you ask me to give you little things. I gave you your own soul: you ask me for my body as a plaything. Was it not enough? Was it not enough? SOAMES. Do you understand this, my lord? THE BISHOP. I have that advantage over you, Anthony, thanks to Alice. [He takes Mrs George's hand]. Your hand is very cold. Can you come down to earth? Do you remember who I am, and who you are? MRS GEORGE. It was enough for me. I did not ask to meet you--to touch you--[the Bishop quickly releases her hand]. When you spoke to my soul years ago from your pulpit, you opened the doors of my salvation to me; and now they stand open for ever. It was enough: I have asked you for nothing since: I ask you for nothing now. I have lived: it is enough. I have had my wages; and I am ready for my work. I thank you and bless you and leave you. You are happier in that than I am; for when I do for men what you did for me, I have no thanks, and no blessing: I am their prey; and there is no rest from their loving and no mercy from their loathing. THE BISHOP. You must take us as we are, Mrs Collins. SOAMES. No. Take us as we are capable of becoming. MRS GEORGE. Take me as I am: I ask no more. [She turns her head to the study door and cries] Yes: come in, come in. Hotchkiss comes softly in from the study. HOTCHKISS. Will you be so kind as to tell me whether I am dreaming? In there I have heard Mrs Collins saying the strangest things, and not a syllable from you two. SOAMES. My lord; is this possession by the devil? THE BISHOP. Or the ecstasy of a saint? HOTCHKISS. Or the convulsion of the pythoness on the tripod? THE BISHOP. May not the three be one? MRS GEORGE [troubled] You are paining and tiring me with idle questions. You are dragging me back to myself. You are tormenting me with your evil dreams of saints and devils and--what was it?-- [striving to fathom it] the pythoness--the pythoness--[giving it up] I dont understand. I am a woman: a human creature like yourselves. Will you not take me as I am? SOAMES. Yes; but shall we take you and burn you? THE BISHOP. Or take you and canonize you? HOTCHKISS [gaily] Or take you as a matter of course? [Swiftly to the Bishop] We must get her out of this: it's dangerous. [Aloud to her] May I suggest that you shall be Anthony's devil and the Bishop's saint and my adored Polly? [Slipping behind her, he picks up her hand from her lap and kisses it over her shoulder]. MRS GEORGE [waking] What was that? Who kissed my hand? [To the Bishop, eagerly] Was it you? [He shakes his head. She is mortified]. I beg your pardon. THE BISHOP. Not at all. I'm not repudiating that honor. Allow me [he kisses her hand]. MRS GEORGE. Thank you for that. It was not the sexton, was it? SOAMES. I! HOTCHKISS. It was I, Polly, your ever faithful. MRS GEORGE [turning and seeing him] Let me catch you doing it again: thats all. How do you come there? I sent you away. [With great energy, becoming quite herself again] What the goodness gracious has been happening? HOTCHKISS. As far as I can make out, you have been having a very charming and eloquent sort of fit. MRS GEORGE [delighted] What! My second sight! [To the Bishop] Oh, how I have prayed that it might come to me if ever I met you! And now it has come. How stunning! You may believe every word I said: I cant remember it now; but it was something that was just bursting to be said; and so it laid hold of me and said itself. Thats how it is, you see. Edith and Cecil Sykes come in through the tower. She has her hat on. Leo follows. They have evidently been out together. Sykes, with an unnatural air, half foolish, half rakish, as if he had lost all his self-respect and were determined not to let it prey on his spirits, throws himself into a chair at the end of the table near the hearth and thrusts his hands into his pockets, like Hogarth's Rake, without waiting for Edith to sit down. She sits in the railed chair. Leo takes the chair nearest the tower on the long side of the table, brooding, with closed lips. THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. With Cecil? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding? No reply. Blank silence. SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie. EDITH. Tell them yourself. The General comes in from the garden. THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me with some tobacco? Ive finished mine; and my nerves are still far from settled. THE BISHOP. Wait a moment, Boxer. Cecil has something important to tell us. SYKES. Weve done it. Thats all. HOTCHKISS. Done what, Cecil? SYKES. Well, what do you suppose? EDITH. Got married, of course. THE GENERAL. Married! Who gave you away? SYKES [jerking his head towards the tower] This gentleman did.[Seeing that they do not understand, he looks round and sees that there is no one there]. Oh! I thought he came in with us. Hes gone downstairs, I suppose. The Beadle. THE GENERAL. The Beadle! What the devil did he do that for? SYKES. Oh, I dont know: I didnt make any bargain with him. [To Mrs George] How much ought I to give him, Mrs Collins? MRS GEORGE. Five shillings. [To the Bishop] I want to rest for a moment: there! in your study. I saw it here [she touches her forehead]. THE BISHOP [opening the study door for her] By all means. Turn my brother out if he disturbs you. Soames: bring the letters out here. SYKES. He wont be offended at my offering it, will he? MRS GEORGE. Not he! He touches children with the mace to cure them of ringworm for fourpence apiece. [She goes into the study. Soames follows her]. THE GENERAL. Well, Edith, I'm a little disappointed, I must say. However, I'm glad it was done by somebody in a public uniform. Mrs Bridgenorth and Lesbia come in through the tower. Mrs Bridgenorth makes for the Bishop. He goes to her, and they meet near the oak chest. Lesbia comes between Sykes and Edith. THE BISHOP. Alice, my love, theyre married. MRS BRIDGENORTH [placidly] Oh, well, thats all right. Better tell Collins. Soames comes back from the study with his writing materials. He seats himself at the nearest end of the table and goes on with his work. Hotchkiss sits down in the next chair round the table corner, with his back to him. LESBIA. You have both given in, have you? EDITH. Not at all. We have provided for everything. SOAMES. How? EDITH. Before going to the church, we went to the office of that insurance company--whats its name, Cecil? SYKES. The British Family Insurance Corporation. It insures you against poor relations and all sorts of family contingencies. EDITH. It has consented to insure Cecil against libel actions brought against him on my account. It will give us specially low terms because I am a Bishop's daughter. SYKES. And I have given Edie my solemn word that if I ever commit a crime I'll knock her down before a

passes

How many times the word 'passes' appears in the text?

First, he talks as if the only thing of any importance in life was which particular woman he shall marry. Second, he has no self-control. THE GENERAL. Women are not all the same to me, Lesbia. MRS GEORGE. Why should they be, pray? Women are all different: it's the men who are all the same. Besides, what does Miss Grantham know about either men or women? She's got too much self- control. LESBIA [widening her eyes and lifting her chin haughtily] And pray how does that prevent me from knowing as much about men and women as people who have no self-control? MRS GEORGE. Because it frightens people into behaving themselves before you; and then how can you tell what they really are? Look at me! I was a spoilt child. My brothers and sisters were well brought up, like all children of respectable publicans. So should I have been if I hadnt been the youngest: ten years younger than my youngest brother. My parents were tired of doing their duty by their children by that time; and they spoilt me for all they were worth. I never knew what it was to want money or anything that money could buy. When I wanted my own way, I had nothing to do but scream for it till I got it. When I was annoyed I didnt control myself: I scratched and called names. Did you ever, after you were grown up, pull a grown-up woman's hair? Did you ever bite a grown-up man? Did you ever call both of them every name you could lay your tongue to? LESBIA [shivering with disgust] No. MRS GEORGE. Well, I did. I know what a woman is like when her hair's pulled. I know what a man is like when he's bit. I know what theyre both like when you tell them what you really feel about them. And thats how I know more of the world than you. LESBIA. The Chinese know what a man is like when he is cut into a thousand pieces, or boiled in oil. That sort of knowledge is of no use to me. I'm afraid we shall never get on with one another, Mrs George. I live like a fencer, always on guard. I like to be confronted with people who are always on guard. I hate sloppy people, slovenly people, people who cant sit up straight, sentimental people. MRS GEORGE. Oh, sentimental your grandmother! You dont learn to hold your own in the world by standing on guard, but by attacking, and getting well hammered yourself. LESBIA. I'm not a prize-fighter, Mrs. Collins. If I cant get a thing without the indignity of fighting for it, I do without it. MRS GEORGE. Do you? Does it strike you that if we were all as clever as you at doing without, there wouldnt be much to live for, would there? TAE GENERAL. I'm afraid, Lesbia, the things you do without are the things you dont want. LESBIA [surprised at his wit] Thats not bad for the silly soldier man. Yes, Boxer: the truth is, I dont want you enough to make the very unreasonable sacrifices required by marriage. And yet that is exactly why I ought to be married. Just because I have the qualities my country wants most I shall go barren to my grave; whilst the women who have neither the strength to resist marriage nor the intelligence to understand its infinite dishonor will make the England of the future. [She rises and walks towards the study]. THE GENERAL [as she is about to pass him] Well, I shall not ask you again, Lesbia. LESBIA. Thank you, Boxer. [She passes on to the study door]. MRS GEORGE. Youre quite done with him, are you? LESBIA. As far as marriage is concerned, yes. The field is clear for you, Mrs George. [She goes into the study]. The General buries his face in his hands. Mrs George comes round the table to him. MRS GEORGE [sympathetically] She's a nice woman, that. And a sort of beauty about her too, different from anyone else. THE GENERAL [overwhelmed] Oh Mrs Collins, thank you, thank you a thousand times. [He rises effusively]. You have thawed the long- frozen springs [he kisses her hand]. Forgive me; and thank you: bless you--[he again takes refuge in the garden, choked with emotion]. MRS GEORGE [looking after him triumphantly] Just caught the dear old warrior on the bounce, eh? HOTCHKISS. Unfaithful to me already! MRS GEORGE. I'm not your property, young man dont you think it. [She goes over to him and faces him]. You understand that? [He suddenly snatches her into his arms and kisses her]. Oh! You. dare do that again, you young blackguard; and I'll jab one of these chairs in your face [she seizes one and holds it in readiness]. Now you shall not see me for another month. HOTCHKISS [deliberately] I shall pay my first visit to your husband this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. Youll see what he'll say to you when I tell him what youve just done. HOTCHKISS. What can he say? What dare he say? MRS GEORGE. Suppose he kicks you out of the house? HOTCHKISS. How can he? Ive fought seven duels with sabres. Ive muscles of iron. Nothing hurts me: not even broken bones. Fighting is absolutely uninteresting to me because it doesnt frighten me or amuse me; and I always win. Your husband is in all these respects an average man, probably. He will be horribly afraid of me; and if under the stimulus of your presence, and for your sake, and because it is the right thing to do among vulgar people, he were to attack me, I should simply defeat him and humiliate him [he gradually gets his hands on the chair and takes it from her, as his words go home phrase by phrase]. Sooner than expose him to that, you would suffer a thousand stolen kisses, wouldnt you? MRS GEORGE [in utter consternation] You young viper! HOTCHKISS. Ha ha! You are in my power. That is one of the oversights of your code of honor for husbands: the man who can bully them can insult their wives with impunity. Tell him if you dare. If I choose to take ten kisses, how will you prevent me? MRS GEORGE. You come within reach of me and I'll not leave a hair on your head. HOTCHKISS [catching her wrists dexterously] Ive got your hands. MRS GEORGE. Youve not got my teeth. Let go; or I'll bite. I will, I tell you. Let go. HOTCHKISS. Bite away: I shall taste quite as nice as George. MRS GEORGE. You beast. Let me go. Do you call yourself a gentleman, to use your brute strength against a woman? HOTCHKISS. You are stronger than me in every way but this. Do you think I will give up my one advantage? Promise youll receive me when I call this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. After what youve just done? Not if it was to save my life. HOTCHKISS. I'll amuse George. MRS GEORGE. He wont be in. HOTCHKISS [taken aback] Do you mean that we should be alone? MRS GEORGE [snatching away her hands triumphantly as his grasp relaxes] Aha! Thats cooled you, has it? HOTCHKISS [anxiously] When will George be at home? MRS GEORGE. It wont matter to you whether he's at home or not. The door will be slammed in your face whenever you call. HOTCHKISS. No servant in London is strong enough to close a door that I mean to keep open. You cant escape me. If you persist, I'll go into the coal trade; make George's acquaintance on the coal exchange; and coax him to take me home with him to make your acquaintance. MRS GEORGE. We have no use for you, young man: neither George nor I [she sails away from him and sits down at the end of the table near the study door]. HOTCHKISS [following her and taking the next chair round the corner of the table] Yes you have. George cant fight for you: I can. MRS GEORGE [turning to face him] You bully. You low bully. HOTCHKISS. You have courage and fascination: I have courage and a pair of fists. We're both bullies, Polly. MRS GEORGE. You have a mischievous tongue. Thats enough to keep you out of my house. HOTCHKISS. It must be rather a house of cards. A word from me to George--just the right word, said in the right way--and down comes your house. MRS GEORGE. Thats why I'll die sooner than let you into it. HOTCHKISS. Then as surely as you live, I enter the coal trade to- morrow. George's taste for amusing company will deliver him into my hands. Before a month passes your home will be at my mercy. MRS GEORGE [rising, at bay] Do you think I'll let myself be driven into a trap like this? HOTCHKISS. You are in it already. Marriage is a trap. You are married. Any man who has the power to spoil your marriage has the power to spoil your life. I have that power over you. MRS GEORGE [desperate] You mean it? HOTCHKISS. I do. MRS GEORGE [resolutely] Well, spoil my marriage and be-- HOTCHKISS [springing up] Polly! MRS GEORGE. Sooner than be your slave I'd face any unhappiness. HOTCHKISS. What! Even for George? MRS GEORGE. There must be honor between me and George, happiness or no happiness. Do your worst. HOTCHKISS [admiring her] Are you really game, Polly? Dare you defy me? MRS GEORGE. If you ask me another question I shant be able to keep my hands off you [she dashes distractedly past him to the other end of the table, her fingers crisping]. HOTCHKISS. That settles it. Polly: I adore you: we were born for one another. As I happen to be a gentleman, I'll never do anything to annoy or injure you except that I reserve the right to give you a black eye if you bite me; but youll never get rid of me now to the end of your life. MRS GEORGE. I shall get rid of you if the beadle has to brain you with the mace for it [she makes for the tower]. HOTCHKISS [running between the table and the oak chest and across to the tower to cut her off] You shant. MRS GEORGE [panting] Shant I though? HOTCHKISS. No you shant. I have one card left to play that youve forgotten. Why were you so unlike yourself when you spoke to the Bishop? MRS GEORGE [agitated beyond measure] Stop. Not that. You shall respect that if you respect nothing else. I forbid you. [He kneels at her feet]. What are you doing? Get up: dont be a fool. HOTCHKISS. Polly: I ask you on my knees to let me make George's acquaintance in his home this afternoon; and I shall remain on my knees till the Bishop comes in and sees us. What will he think of you then? MRS GEORGE [beside herself] Wheres the poker? She rushes to the fireplace; seizes the poker; and makes for Hotchkiss, who flies to the study door. The Bishop enters just then and finds himself between them, narrowly escaping a blow from the poker. THE BISHOP. Dont hit him, Mrs Collins. He is my guest. Mrs George throws down the poker; collapses into the nearest chair; and bursts into tears. The Bishop goes to her and pats her consolingly on the shoulder. She shudders all through at his touch. THE BISHOP. Come! you are in the house of your friends. Can we help you? MRS GEORGE [to Hotchkiss, pointing to the study] Go in there, you. Youre not wanted here. HOTCHKISS. You understand, Bishop, that Mrs Collins is not to blame for this scene. I'm afraid Ive been rather irritating. THE BISHOP. I can quite believe it, Sinjon. Hotchkiss goes into the study. THE BISHOP [turning to Mrs George with great kindness of manner] I'm sorry you have been worried [he sits down on her left]. Never mind him. A little pluck, a little gaiety of heart, a little prayer; and youll be laughing at him. MRS GEORGE. Never fear. I have all that. It was as much my fault as his; and I should have put him in his place with a clip of that poker on the side of his head if you hadnt come in. THE BISHOP. You might have put him in his coffin that way, Mrs Collins. And I should have been very sorry; because we are all fond of Sinjon. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's your duty to rebuke me. But do you think I dont know? THE BISHOP. I dont rebuke you. Who am I that I should rebuke you? Besides, I know there are discussions in which the poker is the only possible argument. MRS GEORGE. My lord: be earnest with me. I'm a very funny woman, I daresay; but I come from the same workshop as you. I heard you say that yourself years ago. THE BISHOP. Quite so; but then I'm a very funny Bishop. Since we are both funny people, let us not forget that humor is a divine attribute. MRS GEORGE. I know nothing about divine attributes or whatever you call them; but I can feel when I am being belittled. It was from you that I learnt first to respect myself. It was through you that I came to be able to walk safely through many wild and wilful paths. Dont go back on your own teaching. THE BISHOP. I'm not a teacher: only a fellow-traveller of whom you asked the way. I pointed ahead--ahead of myself as well as of you. MRS GEORGE [rising and standing over him almost threateningly] As I'm a living woman this day, if I find you out to be a fraud, I'll kill myself. THE BISHOP. What! Kill yourself for finding out something! For becoming a wiser and therefore a better woman! What a bad reason! MRS GEORGE. I have sometimes thought of killing you, and then killing myself. THE BISHOP. Why on earth should you kill yourself--not to mention me? MRS GEORGE. So that we might keep our assignation in Heaven. THE BISHOP [rising and facing her, breathless] Mrs. Collins! YOU are Incognita Appassionata! MRS GEORGE. You read my letters, then? [With a sigh of grateful relief, she sits down quietly, and says] Thank you. THE BISHOP [remorsefully] And I have broken the spell by making you come here [sitting down again]. Can you ever forgive me? MRS GEORGE. You couldnt know that it was only the coal merchant's wife, could you? THE BISHOP. Why do you say only the coal merchant's wife? MRS GEORGE. Many people would laugh at it. THE BISHOP. Poor people! It's so hard to know the right place to laugh, isnt it? MRS GEORGE. I didnt mean to make you think the letters were from a fine lady. I wrote on cheap paper; and I never could spell. THE BISHOP. Neither could I. So that told me nothing. MRS GEORGE. One thing I should like you to know. THE BISHOP. Yes? MRS GEORGE. We didnt cheat your friend. They were as good as we could do at thirteen shillings a ton. THE BISHOP. Thats important. Thank you for telling me. MRS GEORGE. I have something else to say; but will you please ask somebody to come and stay here while we talk? [He rises and turns to the study door]. Not a woman, if you dont mind. [He nods understandingly and passes on]. Not a man either. THE BISHOP [stopping] Not a man and not a woman! We have no children left, Mrs Collins. They are all grown up and married. MRS GEORGE. That other clergyman would do. THE BISHOP. What! The sexton? MRS GEORGE. Yes. He didnt mind my calling him that, did he? It was only my ignorance. THE BISHOP. Not at all. [He opens the study door and calls] Soames! Anthony! [To Mrs George] Call him Father: he likes it. [Soames appears at the study door]. Mrs Collins wishes you to join us, Anthony. Soames looks puzzled. MRS GEORGE. You dont mind, Dad, do you? [As this greeting visibly gives him a shock that hardly bears out the Bishop's advice, she says anxiously] That was what you told me to call him, wasnt it? SOAMES. I am called Father Anthony, Mrs Collins. But it does not matter what you call me. [He comes in, and walks past her to the hearth]. THE BISHOP. Mrs Collins has something to say to me that she wants you to hear. SOAMES. I am listening. THE BISHOP [going back to his seat next her] Now. MRS GEORGE. My lord: you should never have married. SOAMES. This woman is inspired. Listen to her, my lord. THE BISHOP [taken aback by the directness of the attack] I married because I was so much in love with Alice that all the difficulties and doubts and dangers of marriage seemed to me the merest moonshine. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's mean to let poor things in for so much while theyre in that state. Would you marry now that you know better if you were a widower? THE BISHOP. I'm old now. It wouldnt matter. MRS GEORGE. But would you if it did matter? THE BISHOP. I think I should marry again lest anyone should imagine I had found marriage unhappy with Alice. SOAMES [sternly] Are you fonder of your wife than of your salvation? THE BISHOP. Oh, very much. When you meet a man who is very particular about his salvation, look out for a woman who is very particular about her character; and marry them to one another: theyll make a perfect pair. I advise you to fall in love; Anthony. SOAMES [with horror] I!! THE BISHOP. Yes, you! think of what it would do for you. For her sake you would come to care unselfishly and diligently for money instead of being selfishly and lazily indifferent to it. For her sake you would come to care in the same way for preferment. For her sake you would come to care for your health, your appearance, the good opinion of your fellow creatures, and all the really important things that make men work and strive instead of mooning and nursing their salvation. SOAMES. In one word, for the sake of one deadly sin I should come to care for all the others. THE BISHOP. Saint Anthony! Tempt him, Mrs Collins: tempt him. MRS GEORGE [rising and looking strangely before her] Take care, my lord: you still have the power to make me obey your commands. And do you, Mr Sexton, beware of an empty heart. THE BISHOP. Yes. Nature abhors a vacuum, Anthony. I would not dare go about with an empty heart: why, the first girl I met would fly into it by mere atmospheric pressure. Alice keeps them out now. Mrs Collins knows. MRS GEORGE [a faint convulsion passing like a wave over her] I know more than either of you. One of you has not yet exhausted his first love: the other has not yet reached it. But I--I--[she reels and is again convulsed]. THE BISHOP [saving her from falling] Whats the matter? Are you ill, Mrs Collins? [He gets her back into her chair]. Soames: theres a glass of water in the study--quick. [Soames hurries to the study door.] MRS. GEORGE. No. [Soames stops]. Dont call. Dont bring anyone. Cant you hear anything? THE BISHOP. Nothing unusual. [He sits by her, watching her with intense surprise and interest]. MRS GEORGE. No music? SOAMES. No. [He steals to the end of the table and sits on her right, equally interested]. MRS GEORGE. Do you see nothing--not a great light? THE BISHOP. We are still walking in darkness. MRS GEORGE. Put your hand on my forehead: the hand with the ring. [He does so. Her eyes close]. SOAMES [inspired to prophesy] There was a certain woman, the wife of a coal merchant, which had been a great sinner . . . The Bishop, startled, takes his hand away. Mrs George's eyes open vividly as she interrupts Soames. MRS GEORGE. You prophesy falsely, Anthony: never in all my life have I done anything that was not ordained for me. [More quietly] Ive been myself. Ive not been afraid of myself. And at last I have escaped from myself, and am become a voice for them that are afraid to speak, and a cry for the hearts that break in silence. SOAMES [whispering] Is she inspired? THE BISHOP. Marvellous. Hush. MRS GEORGE. I have earned the right to speak. I have dared: I have gone through: I have not fallen withered in the fire: I have come at last out beyond, to the back of Godspeed? THE BISHOP. And what do you see there, at the back of Godspeed? SOAMES [hungrily] Give us your message. MRS GEORGE [with intensely sad reproach] When you loved me I gave you the whole sun and stars to play with. I gave you eternity in a single moment, strength of the mountains in one clasp of your arms, and the volume of all the seas in one impulse of your souls. A moment only; but was it not enough? Were you not paid then for all the rest of your struggle on earth? Must I mend your clothes and sweep your floors as well? Was it not enough? I paid the price without bargaining: I bore the children without flinching: was that a reason for heaping fresh burdens on me? I carried the child in my arms: must I carry the father too? When I opened the gates of paradise, were you blind? was it nothing to you? When all the stars sang in your ears and all the winds swept you into the heart of heaven, were you deaf? were you dull? was I no more to you than a bone to a dog? Was it not enough? We spent eternity together; and you ask me for a little lifetime more. We possessed all the universe together; and you ask me to give you my scanty wages as well. I have given you the greatest of all things; and you ask me to give you little things. I gave you your own soul: you ask me for my body as a plaything. Was it not enough? Was it not enough? SOAMES. Do you understand this, my lord? THE BISHOP. I have that advantage over you, Anthony, thanks to Alice. [He takes Mrs George's hand]. Your hand is very cold. Can you come down to earth? Do you remember who I am, and who you are? MRS GEORGE. It was enough for me. I did not ask to meet you--to touch you--[the Bishop quickly releases her hand]. When you spoke to my soul years ago from your pulpit, you opened the doors of my salvation to me; and now they stand open for ever. It was enough: I have asked you for nothing since: I ask you for nothing now. I have lived: it is enough. I have had my wages; and I am ready for my work. I thank you and bless you and leave you. You are happier in that than I am; for when I do for men what you did for me, I have no thanks, and no blessing: I am their prey; and there is no rest from their loving and no mercy from their loathing. THE BISHOP. You must take us as we are, Mrs Collins. SOAMES. No. Take us as we are capable of becoming. MRS GEORGE. Take me as I am: I ask no more. [She turns her head to the study door and cries] Yes: come in, come in. Hotchkiss comes softly in from the study. HOTCHKISS. Will you be so kind as to tell me whether I am dreaming? In there I have heard Mrs Collins saying the strangest things, and not a syllable from you two. SOAMES. My lord; is this possession by the devil? THE BISHOP. Or the ecstasy of a saint? HOTCHKISS. Or the convulsion of the pythoness on the tripod? THE BISHOP. May not the three be one? MRS GEORGE [troubled] You are paining and tiring me with idle questions. You are dragging me back to myself. You are tormenting me with your evil dreams of saints and devils and--what was it?-- [striving to fathom it] the pythoness--the pythoness--[giving it up] I dont understand. I am a woman: a human creature like yourselves. Will you not take me as I am? SOAMES. Yes; but shall we take you and burn you? THE BISHOP. Or take you and canonize you? HOTCHKISS [gaily] Or take you as a matter of course? [Swiftly to the Bishop] We must get her out of this: it's dangerous. [Aloud to her] May I suggest that you shall be Anthony's devil and the Bishop's saint and my adored Polly? [Slipping behind her, he picks up her hand from her lap and kisses it over her shoulder]. MRS GEORGE [waking] What was that? Who kissed my hand? [To the Bishop, eagerly] Was it you? [He shakes his head. She is mortified]. I beg your pardon. THE BISHOP. Not at all. I'm not repudiating that honor. Allow me [he kisses her hand]. MRS GEORGE. Thank you for that. It was not the sexton, was it? SOAMES. I! HOTCHKISS. It was I, Polly, your ever faithful. MRS GEORGE [turning and seeing him] Let me catch you doing it again: thats all. How do you come there? I sent you away. [With great energy, becoming quite herself again] What the goodness gracious has been happening? HOTCHKISS. As far as I can make out, you have been having a very charming and eloquent sort of fit. MRS GEORGE [delighted] What! My second sight! [To the Bishop] Oh, how I have prayed that it might come to me if ever I met you! And now it has come. How stunning! You may believe every word I said: I cant remember it now; but it was something that was just bursting to be said; and so it laid hold of me and said itself. Thats how it is, you see. Edith and Cecil Sykes come in through the tower. She has her hat on. Leo follows. They have evidently been out together. Sykes, with an unnatural air, half foolish, half rakish, as if he had lost all his self-respect and were determined not to let it prey on his spirits, throws himself into a chair at the end of the table near the hearth and thrusts his hands into his pockets, like Hogarth's Rake, without waiting for Edith to sit down. She sits in the railed chair. Leo takes the chair nearest the tower on the long side of the table, brooding, with closed lips. THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. With Cecil? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding? No reply. Blank silence. SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie. EDITH. Tell them yourself. The General comes in from the garden. THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me with some tobacco? Ive finished mine; and my nerves are still far from settled. THE BISHOP. Wait a moment, Boxer. Cecil has something important to tell us. SYKES. Weve done it. Thats all. HOTCHKISS. Done what, Cecil? SYKES. Well, what do you suppose? EDITH. Got married, of course. THE GENERAL. Married! Who gave you away? SYKES [jerking his head towards the tower] This gentleman did.[Seeing that they do not understand, he looks round and sees that there is no one there]. Oh! I thought he came in with us. Hes gone downstairs, I suppose. The Beadle. THE GENERAL. The Beadle! What the devil did he do that for? SYKES. Oh, I dont know: I didnt make any bargain with him. [To Mrs George] How much ought I to give him, Mrs Collins? MRS GEORGE. Five shillings. [To the Bishop] I want to rest for a moment: there! in your study. I saw it here [she touches her forehead]. THE BISHOP [opening the study door for her] By all means. Turn my brother out if he disturbs you. Soames: bring the letters out here. SYKES. He wont be offended at my offering it, will he? MRS GEORGE. Not he! He touches children with the mace to cure them of ringworm for fourpence apiece. [She goes into the study. Soames follows her]. THE GENERAL. Well, Edith, I'm a little disappointed, I must say. However, I'm glad it was done by somebody in a public uniform. Mrs Bridgenorth and Lesbia come in through the tower. Mrs Bridgenorth makes for the Bishop. He goes to her, and they meet near the oak chest. Lesbia comes between Sykes and Edith. THE BISHOP. Alice, my love, theyre married. MRS BRIDGENORTH [placidly] Oh, well, thats all right. Better tell Collins. Soames comes back from the study with his writing materials. He seats himself at the nearest end of the table and goes on with his work. Hotchkiss sits down in the next chair round the table corner, with his back to him. LESBIA. You have both given in, have you? EDITH. Not at all. We have provided for everything. SOAMES. How? EDITH. Before going to the church, we went to the office of that insurance company--whats its name, Cecil? SYKES. The British Family Insurance Corporation. It insures you against poor relations and all sorts of family contingencies. EDITH. It has consented to insure Cecil against libel actions brought against him on my account. It will give us specially low terms because I am a Bishop's daughter. SYKES. And I have given Edie my solemn word that if I ever commit a crime I'll knock her down before a

duly

How many times the word 'duly' appears in the text?

First, he talks as if the only thing of any importance in life was which particular woman he shall marry. Second, he has no self-control. THE GENERAL. Women are not all the same to me, Lesbia. MRS GEORGE. Why should they be, pray? Women are all different: it's the men who are all the same. Besides, what does Miss Grantham know about either men or women? She's got too much self- control. LESBIA [widening her eyes and lifting her chin haughtily] And pray how does that prevent me from knowing as much about men and women as people who have no self-control? MRS GEORGE. Because it frightens people into behaving themselves before you; and then how can you tell what they really are? Look at me! I was a spoilt child. My brothers and sisters were well brought up, like all children of respectable publicans. So should I have been if I hadnt been the youngest: ten years younger than my youngest brother. My parents were tired of doing their duty by their children by that time; and they spoilt me for all they were worth. I never knew what it was to want money or anything that money could buy. When I wanted my own way, I had nothing to do but scream for it till I got it. When I was annoyed I didnt control myself: I scratched and called names. Did you ever, after you were grown up, pull a grown-up woman's hair? Did you ever bite a grown-up man? Did you ever call both of them every name you could lay your tongue to? LESBIA [shivering with disgust] No. MRS GEORGE. Well, I did. I know what a woman is like when her hair's pulled. I know what a man is like when he's bit. I know what theyre both like when you tell them what you really feel about them. And thats how I know more of the world than you. LESBIA. The Chinese know what a man is like when he is cut into a thousand pieces, or boiled in oil. That sort of knowledge is of no use to me. I'm afraid we shall never get on with one another, Mrs George. I live like a fencer, always on guard. I like to be confronted with people who are always on guard. I hate sloppy people, slovenly people, people who cant sit up straight, sentimental people. MRS GEORGE. Oh, sentimental your grandmother! You dont learn to hold your own in the world by standing on guard, but by attacking, and getting well hammered yourself. LESBIA. I'm not a prize-fighter, Mrs. Collins. If I cant get a thing without the indignity of fighting for it, I do without it. MRS GEORGE. Do you? Does it strike you that if we were all as clever as you at doing without, there wouldnt be much to live for, would there? TAE GENERAL. I'm afraid, Lesbia, the things you do without are the things you dont want. LESBIA [surprised at his wit] Thats not bad for the silly soldier man. Yes, Boxer: the truth is, I dont want you enough to make the very unreasonable sacrifices required by marriage. And yet that is exactly why I ought to be married. Just because I have the qualities my country wants most I shall go barren to my grave; whilst the women who have neither the strength to resist marriage nor the intelligence to understand its infinite dishonor will make the England of the future. [She rises and walks towards the study]. THE GENERAL [as she is about to pass him] Well, I shall not ask you again, Lesbia. LESBIA. Thank you, Boxer. [She passes on to the study door]. MRS GEORGE. Youre quite done with him, are you? LESBIA. As far as marriage is concerned, yes. The field is clear for you, Mrs George. [She goes into the study]. The General buries his face in his hands. Mrs George comes round the table to him. MRS GEORGE [sympathetically] She's a nice woman, that. And a sort of beauty about her too, different from anyone else. THE GENERAL [overwhelmed] Oh Mrs Collins, thank you, thank you a thousand times. [He rises effusively]. You have thawed the long- frozen springs [he kisses her hand]. Forgive me; and thank you: bless you--[he again takes refuge in the garden, choked with emotion]. MRS GEORGE [looking after him triumphantly] Just caught the dear old warrior on the bounce, eh? HOTCHKISS. Unfaithful to me already! MRS GEORGE. I'm not your property, young man dont you think it. [She goes over to him and faces him]. You understand that? [He suddenly snatches her into his arms and kisses her]. Oh! You. dare do that again, you young blackguard; and I'll jab one of these chairs in your face [she seizes one and holds it in readiness]. Now you shall not see me for another month. HOTCHKISS [deliberately] I shall pay my first visit to your husband this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. Youll see what he'll say to you when I tell him what youve just done. HOTCHKISS. What can he say? What dare he say? MRS GEORGE. Suppose he kicks you out of the house? HOTCHKISS. How can he? Ive fought seven duels with sabres. Ive muscles of iron. Nothing hurts me: not even broken bones. Fighting is absolutely uninteresting to me because it doesnt frighten me or amuse me; and I always win. Your husband is in all these respects an average man, probably. He will be horribly afraid of me; and if under the stimulus of your presence, and for your sake, and because it is the right thing to do among vulgar people, he were to attack me, I should simply defeat him and humiliate him [he gradually gets his hands on the chair and takes it from her, as his words go home phrase by phrase]. Sooner than expose him to that, you would suffer a thousand stolen kisses, wouldnt you? MRS GEORGE [in utter consternation] You young viper! HOTCHKISS. Ha ha! You are in my power. That is one of the oversights of your code of honor for husbands: the man who can bully them can insult their wives with impunity. Tell him if you dare. If I choose to take ten kisses, how will you prevent me? MRS GEORGE. You come within reach of me and I'll not leave a hair on your head. HOTCHKISS [catching her wrists dexterously] Ive got your hands. MRS GEORGE. Youve not got my teeth. Let go; or I'll bite. I will, I tell you. Let go. HOTCHKISS. Bite away: I shall taste quite as nice as George. MRS GEORGE. You beast. Let me go. Do you call yourself a gentleman, to use your brute strength against a woman? HOTCHKISS. You are stronger than me in every way but this. Do you think I will give up my one advantage? Promise youll receive me when I call this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. After what youve just done? Not if it was to save my life. HOTCHKISS. I'll amuse George. MRS GEORGE. He wont be in. HOTCHKISS [taken aback] Do you mean that we should be alone? MRS GEORGE [snatching away her hands triumphantly as his grasp relaxes] Aha! Thats cooled you, has it? HOTCHKISS [anxiously] When will George be at home? MRS GEORGE. It wont matter to you whether he's at home or not. The door will be slammed in your face whenever you call. HOTCHKISS. No servant in London is strong enough to close a door that I mean to keep open. You cant escape me. If you persist, I'll go into the coal trade; make George's acquaintance on the coal exchange; and coax him to take me home with him to make your acquaintance. MRS GEORGE. We have no use for you, young man: neither George nor I [she sails away from him and sits down at the end of the table near the study door]. HOTCHKISS [following her and taking the next chair round the corner of the table] Yes you have. George cant fight for you: I can. MRS GEORGE [turning to face him] You bully. You low bully. HOTCHKISS. You have courage and fascination: I have courage and a pair of fists. We're both bullies, Polly. MRS GEORGE. You have a mischievous tongue. Thats enough to keep you out of my house. HOTCHKISS. It must be rather a house of cards. A word from me to George--just the right word, said in the right way--and down comes your house. MRS GEORGE. Thats why I'll die sooner than let you into it. HOTCHKISS. Then as surely as you live, I enter the coal trade to- morrow. George's taste for amusing company will deliver him into my hands. Before a month passes your home will be at my mercy. MRS GEORGE [rising, at bay] Do you think I'll let myself be driven into a trap like this? HOTCHKISS. You are in it already. Marriage is a trap. You are married. Any man who has the power to spoil your marriage has the power to spoil your life. I have that power over you. MRS GEORGE [desperate] You mean it? HOTCHKISS. I do. MRS GEORGE [resolutely] Well, spoil my marriage and be-- HOTCHKISS [springing up] Polly! MRS GEORGE. Sooner than be your slave I'd face any unhappiness. HOTCHKISS. What! Even for George? MRS GEORGE. There must be honor between me and George, happiness or no happiness. Do your worst. HOTCHKISS [admiring her] Are you really game, Polly? Dare you defy me? MRS GEORGE. If you ask me another question I shant be able to keep my hands off you [she dashes distractedly past him to the other end of the table, her fingers crisping]. HOTCHKISS. That settles it. Polly: I adore you: we were born for one another. As I happen to be a gentleman, I'll never do anything to annoy or injure you except that I reserve the right to give you a black eye if you bite me; but youll never get rid of me now to the end of your life. MRS GEORGE. I shall get rid of you if the beadle has to brain you with the mace for it [she makes for the tower]. HOTCHKISS [running between the table and the oak chest and across to the tower to cut her off] You shant. MRS GEORGE [panting] Shant I though? HOTCHKISS. No you shant. I have one card left to play that youve forgotten. Why were you so unlike yourself when you spoke to the Bishop? MRS GEORGE [agitated beyond measure] Stop. Not that. You shall respect that if you respect nothing else. I forbid you. [He kneels at her feet]. What are you doing? Get up: dont be a fool. HOTCHKISS. Polly: I ask you on my knees to let me make George's acquaintance in his home this afternoon; and I shall remain on my knees till the Bishop comes in and sees us. What will he think of you then? MRS GEORGE [beside herself] Wheres the poker? She rushes to the fireplace; seizes the poker; and makes for Hotchkiss, who flies to the study door. The Bishop enters just then and finds himself between them, narrowly escaping a blow from the poker. THE BISHOP. Dont hit him, Mrs Collins. He is my guest. Mrs George throws down the poker; collapses into the nearest chair; and bursts into tears. The Bishop goes to her and pats her consolingly on the shoulder. She shudders all through at his touch. THE BISHOP. Come! you are in the house of your friends. Can we help you? MRS GEORGE [to Hotchkiss, pointing to the study] Go in there, you. Youre not wanted here. HOTCHKISS. You understand, Bishop, that Mrs Collins is not to blame for this scene. I'm afraid Ive been rather irritating. THE BISHOP. I can quite believe it, Sinjon. Hotchkiss goes into the study. THE BISHOP [turning to Mrs George with great kindness of manner] I'm sorry you have been worried [he sits down on her left]. Never mind him. A little pluck, a little gaiety of heart, a little prayer; and youll be laughing at him. MRS GEORGE. Never fear. I have all that. It was as much my fault as his; and I should have put him in his place with a clip of that poker on the side of his head if you hadnt come in. THE BISHOP. You might have put him in his coffin that way, Mrs Collins. And I should have been very sorry; because we are all fond of Sinjon. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's your duty to rebuke me. But do you think I dont know? THE BISHOP. I dont rebuke you. Who am I that I should rebuke you? Besides, I know there are discussions in which the poker is the only possible argument. MRS GEORGE. My lord: be earnest with me. I'm a very funny woman, I daresay; but I come from the same workshop as you. I heard you say that yourself years ago. THE BISHOP. Quite so; but then I'm a very funny Bishop. Since we are both funny people, let us not forget that humor is a divine attribute. MRS GEORGE. I know nothing about divine attributes or whatever you call them; but I can feel when I am being belittled. It was from you that I learnt first to respect myself. It was through you that I came to be able to walk safely through many wild and wilful paths. Dont go back on your own teaching. THE BISHOP. I'm not a teacher: only a fellow-traveller of whom you asked the way. I pointed ahead--ahead of myself as well as of you. MRS GEORGE [rising and standing over him almost threateningly] As I'm a living woman this day, if I find you out to be a fraud, I'll kill myself. THE BISHOP. What! Kill yourself for finding out something! For becoming a wiser and therefore a better woman! What a bad reason! MRS GEORGE. I have sometimes thought of killing you, and then killing myself. THE BISHOP. Why on earth should you kill yourself--not to mention me? MRS GEORGE. So that we might keep our assignation in Heaven. THE BISHOP [rising and facing her, breathless] Mrs. Collins! YOU are Incognita Appassionata! MRS GEORGE. You read my letters, then? [With a sigh of grateful relief, she sits down quietly, and says] Thank you. THE BISHOP [remorsefully] And I have broken the spell by making you come here [sitting down again]. Can you ever forgive me? MRS GEORGE. You couldnt know that it was only the coal merchant's wife, could you? THE BISHOP. Why do you say only the coal merchant's wife? MRS GEORGE. Many people would laugh at it. THE BISHOP. Poor people! It's so hard to know the right place to laugh, isnt it? MRS GEORGE. I didnt mean to make you think the letters were from a fine lady. I wrote on cheap paper; and I never could spell. THE BISHOP. Neither could I. So that told me nothing. MRS GEORGE. One thing I should like you to know. THE BISHOP. Yes? MRS GEORGE. We didnt cheat your friend. They were as good as we could do at thirteen shillings a ton. THE BISHOP. Thats important. Thank you for telling me. MRS GEORGE. I have something else to say; but will you please ask somebody to come and stay here while we talk? [He rises and turns to the study door]. Not a woman, if you dont mind. [He nods understandingly and passes on]. Not a man either. THE BISHOP [stopping] Not a man and not a woman! We have no children left, Mrs Collins. They are all grown up and married. MRS GEORGE. That other clergyman would do. THE BISHOP. What! The sexton? MRS GEORGE. Yes. He didnt mind my calling him that, did he? It was only my ignorance. THE BISHOP. Not at all. [He opens the study door and calls] Soames! Anthony! [To Mrs George] Call him Father: he likes it. [Soames appears at the study door]. Mrs Collins wishes you to join us, Anthony. Soames looks puzzled. MRS GEORGE. You dont mind, Dad, do you? [As this greeting visibly gives him a shock that hardly bears out the Bishop's advice, she says anxiously] That was what you told me to call him, wasnt it? SOAMES. I am called Father Anthony, Mrs Collins. But it does not matter what you call me. [He comes in, and walks past her to the hearth]. THE BISHOP. Mrs Collins has something to say to me that she wants you to hear. SOAMES. I am listening. THE BISHOP [going back to his seat next her] Now. MRS GEORGE. My lord: you should never have married. SOAMES. This woman is inspired. Listen to her, my lord. THE BISHOP [taken aback by the directness of the attack] I married because I was so much in love with Alice that all the difficulties and doubts and dangers of marriage seemed to me the merest moonshine. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's mean to let poor things in for so much while theyre in that state. Would you marry now that you know better if you were a widower? THE BISHOP. I'm old now. It wouldnt matter. MRS GEORGE. But would you if it did matter? THE BISHOP. I think I should marry again lest anyone should imagine I had found marriage unhappy with Alice. SOAMES [sternly] Are you fonder of your wife than of your salvation? THE BISHOP. Oh, very much. When you meet a man who is very particular about his salvation, look out for a woman who is very particular about her character; and marry them to one another: theyll make a perfect pair. I advise you to fall in love; Anthony. SOAMES [with horror] I!! THE BISHOP. Yes, you! think of what it would do for you. For her sake you would come to care unselfishly and diligently for money instead of being selfishly and lazily indifferent to it. For her sake you would come to care in the same way for preferment. For her sake you would come to care for your health, your appearance, the good opinion of your fellow creatures, and all the really important things that make men work and strive instead of mooning and nursing their salvation. SOAMES. In one word, for the sake of one deadly sin I should come to care for all the others. THE BISHOP. Saint Anthony! Tempt him, Mrs Collins: tempt him. MRS GEORGE [rising and looking strangely before her] Take care, my lord: you still have the power to make me obey your commands. And do you, Mr Sexton, beware of an empty heart. THE BISHOP. Yes. Nature abhors a vacuum, Anthony. I would not dare go about with an empty heart: why, the first girl I met would fly into it by mere atmospheric pressure. Alice keeps them out now. Mrs Collins knows. MRS GEORGE [a faint convulsion passing like a wave over her] I know more than either of you. One of you has not yet exhausted his first love: the other has not yet reached it. But I--I--[she reels and is again convulsed]. THE BISHOP [saving her from falling] Whats the matter? Are you ill, Mrs Collins? [He gets her back into her chair]. Soames: theres a glass of water in the study--quick. [Soames hurries to the study door.] MRS. GEORGE. No. [Soames stops]. Dont call. Dont bring anyone. Cant you hear anything? THE BISHOP. Nothing unusual. [He sits by her, watching her with intense surprise and interest]. MRS GEORGE. No music? SOAMES. No. [He steals to the end of the table and sits on her right, equally interested]. MRS GEORGE. Do you see nothing--not a great light? THE BISHOP. We are still walking in darkness. MRS GEORGE. Put your hand on my forehead: the hand with the ring. [He does so. Her eyes close]. SOAMES [inspired to prophesy] There was a certain woman, the wife of a coal merchant, which had been a great sinner . . . The Bishop, startled, takes his hand away. Mrs George's eyes open vividly as she interrupts Soames. MRS GEORGE. You prophesy falsely, Anthony: never in all my life have I done anything that was not ordained for me. [More quietly] Ive been myself. Ive not been afraid of myself. And at last I have escaped from myself, and am become a voice for them that are afraid to speak, and a cry for the hearts that break in silence. SOAMES [whispering] Is she inspired? THE BISHOP. Marvellous. Hush. MRS GEORGE. I have earned the right to speak. I have dared: I have gone through: I have not fallen withered in the fire: I have come at last out beyond, to the back of Godspeed? THE BISHOP. And what do you see there, at the back of Godspeed? SOAMES [hungrily] Give us your message. MRS GEORGE [with intensely sad reproach] When you loved me I gave you the whole sun and stars to play with. I gave you eternity in a single moment, strength of the mountains in one clasp of your arms, and the volume of all the seas in one impulse of your souls. A moment only; but was it not enough? Were you not paid then for all the rest of your struggle on earth? Must I mend your clothes and sweep your floors as well? Was it not enough? I paid the price without bargaining: I bore the children without flinching: was that a reason for heaping fresh burdens on me? I carried the child in my arms: must I carry the father too? When I opened the gates of paradise, were you blind? was it nothing to you? When all the stars sang in your ears and all the winds swept you into the heart of heaven, were you deaf? were you dull? was I no more to you than a bone to a dog? Was it not enough? We spent eternity together; and you ask me for a little lifetime more. We possessed all the universe together; and you ask me to give you my scanty wages as well. I have given you the greatest of all things; and you ask me to give you little things. I gave you your own soul: you ask me for my body as a plaything. Was it not enough? Was it not enough? SOAMES. Do you understand this, my lord? THE BISHOP. I have that advantage over you, Anthony, thanks to Alice. [He takes Mrs George's hand]. Your hand is very cold. Can you come down to earth? Do you remember who I am, and who you are? MRS GEORGE. It was enough for me. I did not ask to meet you--to touch you--[the Bishop quickly releases her hand]. When you spoke to my soul years ago from your pulpit, you opened the doors of my salvation to me; and now they stand open for ever. It was enough: I have asked you for nothing since: I ask you for nothing now. I have lived: it is enough. I have had my wages; and I am ready for my work. I thank you and bless you and leave you. You are happier in that than I am; for when I do for men what you did for me, I have no thanks, and no blessing: I am their prey; and there is no rest from their loving and no mercy from their loathing. THE BISHOP. You must take us as we are, Mrs Collins. SOAMES. No. Take us as we are capable of becoming. MRS GEORGE. Take me as I am: I ask no more. [She turns her head to the study door and cries] Yes: come in, come in. Hotchkiss comes softly in from the study. HOTCHKISS. Will you be so kind as to tell me whether I am dreaming? In there I have heard Mrs Collins saying the strangest things, and not a syllable from you two. SOAMES. My lord; is this possession by the devil? THE BISHOP. Or the ecstasy of a saint? HOTCHKISS. Or the convulsion of the pythoness on the tripod? THE BISHOP. May not the three be one? MRS GEORGE [troubled] You are paining and tiring me with idle questions. You are dragging me back to myself. You are tormenting me with your evil dreams of saints and devils and--what was it?-- [striving to fathom it] the pythoness--the pythoness--[giving it up] I dont understand. I am a woman: a human creature like yourselves. Will you not take me as I am? SOAMES. Yes; but shall we take you and burn you? THE BISHOP. Or take you and canonize you? HOTCHKISS [gaily] Or take you as a matter of course? [Swiftly to the Bishop] We must get her out of this: it's dangerous. [Aloud to her] May I suggest that you shall be Anthony's devil and the Bishop's saint and my adored Polly? [Slipping behind her, he picks up her hand from her lap and kisses it over her shoulder]. MRS GEORGE [waking] What was that? Who kissed my hand? [To the Bishop, eagerly] Was it you? [He shakes his head. She is mortified]. I beg your pardon. THE BISHOP. Not at all. I'm not repudiating that honor. Allow me [he kisses her hand]. MRS GEORGE. Thank you for that. It was not the sexton, was it? SOAMES. I! HOTCHKISS. It was I, Polly, your ever faithful. MRS GEORGE [turning and seeing him] Let me catch you doing it again: thats all. How do you come there? I sent you away. [With great energy, becoming quite herself again] What the goodness gracious has been happening? HOTCHKISS. As far as I can make out, you have been having a very charming and eloquent sort of fit. MRS GEORGE [delighted] What! My second sight! [To the Bishop] Oh, how I have prayed that it might come to me if ever I met you! And now it has come. How stunning! You may believe every word I said: I cant remember it now; but it was something that was just bursting to be said; and so it laid hold of me and said itself. Thats how it is, you see. Edith and Cecil Sykes come in through the tower. She has her hat on. Leo follows. They have evidently been out together. Sykes, with an unnatural air, half foolish, half rakish, as if he had lost all his self-respect and were determined not to let it prey on his spirits, throws himself into a chair at the end of the table near the hearth and thrusts his hands into his pockets, like Hogarth's Rake, without waiting for Edith to sit down. She sits in the railed chair. Leo takes the chair nearest the tower on the long side of the table, brooding, with closed lips. THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. With Cecil? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding? No reply. Blank silence. SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie. EDITH. Tell them yourself. The General comes in from the garden. THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me with some tobacco? Ive finished mine; and my nerves are still far from settled. THE BISHOP. Wait a moment, Boxer. Cecil has something important to tell us. SYKES. Weve done it. Thats all. HOTCHKISS. Done what, Cecil? SYKES. Well, what do you suppose? EDITH. Got married, of course. THE GENERAL. Married! Who gave you away? SYKES [jerking his head towards the tower] This gentleman did.[Seeing that they do not understand, he looks round and sees that there is no one there]. Oh! I thought he came in with us. Hes gone downstairs, I suppose. The Beadle. THE GENERAL. The Beadle! What the devil did he do that for? SYKES. Oh, I dont know: I didnt make any bargain with him. [To Mrs George] How much ought I to give him, Mrs Collins? MRS GEORGE. Five shillings. [To the Bishop] I want to rest for a moment: there! in your study. I saw it here [she touches her forehead]. THE BISHOP [opening the study door for her] By all means. Turn my brother out if he disturbs you. Soames: bring the letters out here. SYKES. He wont be offended at my offering it, will he? MRS GEORGE. Not he! He touches children with the mace to cure them of ringworm for fourpence apiece. [She goes into the study. Soames follows her]. THE GENERAL. Well, Edith, I'm a little disappointed, I must say. However, I'm glad it was done by somebody in a public uniform. Mrs Bridgenorth and Lesbia come in through the tower. Mrs Bridgenorth makes for the Bishop. He goes to her, and they meet near the oak chest. Lesbia comes between Sykes and Edith. THE BISHOP. Alice, my love, theyre married. MRS BRIDGENORTH [placidly] Oh, well, thats all right. Better tell Collins. Soames comes back from the study with his writing materials. He seats himself at the nearest end of the table and goes on with his work. Hotchkiss sits down in the next chair round the table corner, with his back to him. LESBIA. You have both given in, have you? EDITH. Not at all. We have provided for everything. SOAMES. How? EDITH. Before going to the church, we went to the office of that insurance company--whats its name, Cecil? SYKES. The British Family Insurance Corporation. It insures you against poor relations and all sorts of family contingencies. EDITH. It has consented to insure Cecil against libel actions brought against him on my account. It will give us specially low terms because I am a Bishop's daughter. SYKES. And I have given Edie my solemn word that if I ever commit a crime I'll knock her down before a

soldier

How many times the word 'soldier' appears in the text?

First, he talks as if the only thing of any importance in life was which particular woman he shall marry. Second, he has no self-control. THE GENERAL. Women are not all the same to me, Lesbia. MRS GEORGE. Why should they be, pray? Women are all different: it's the men who are all the same. Besides, what does Miss Grantham know about either men or women? She's got too much self- control. LESBIA [widening her eyes and lifting her chin haughtily] And pray how does that prevent me from knowing as much about men and women as people who have no self-control? MRS GEORGE. Because it frightens people into behaving themselves before you; and then how can you tell what they really are? Look at me! I was a spoilt child. My brothers and sisters were well brought up, like all children of respectable publicans. So should I have been if I hadnt been the youngest: ten years younger than my youngest brother. My parents were tired of doing their duty by their children by that time; and they spoilt me for all they were worth. I never knew what it was to want money or anything that money could buy. When I wanted my own way, I had nothing to do but scream for it till I got it. When I was annoyed I didnt control myself: I scratched and called names. Did you ever, after you were grown up, pull a grown-up woman's hair? Did you ever bite a grown-up man? Did you ever call both of them every name you could lay your tongue to? LESBIA [shivering with disgust] No. MRS GEORGE. Well, I did. I know what a woman is like when her hair's pulled. I know what a man is like when he's bit. I know what theyre both like when you tell them what you really feel about them. And thats how I know more of the world than you. LESBIA. The Chinese know what a man is like when he is cut into a thousand pieces, or boiled in oil. That sort of knowledge is of no use to me. I'm afraid we shall never get on with one another, Mrs George. I live like a fencer, always on guard. I like to be confronted with people who are always on guard. I hate sloppy people, slovenly people, people who cant sit up straight, sentimental people. MRS GEORGE. Oh, sentimental your grandmother! You dont learn to hold your own in the world by standing on guard, but by attacking, and getting well hammered yourself. LESBIA. I'm not a prize-fighter, Mrs. Collins. If I cant get a thing without the indignity of fighting for it, I do without it. MRS GEORGE. Do you? Does it strike you that if we were all as clever as you at doing without, there wouldnt be much to live for, would there? TAE GENERAL. I'm afraid, Lesbia, the things you do without are the things you dont want. LESBIA [surprised at his wit] Thats not bad for the silly soldier man. Yes, Boxer: the truth is, I dont want you enough to make the very unreasonable sacrifices required by marriage. And yet that is exactly why I ought to be married. Just because I have the qualities my country wants most I shall go barren to my grave; whilst the women who have neither the strength to resist marriage nor the intelligence to understand its infinite dishonor will make the England of the future. [She rises and walks towards the study]. THE GENERAL [as she is about to pass him] Well, I shall not ask you again, Lesbia. LESBIA. Thank you, Boxer. [She passes on to the study door]. MRS GEORGE. Youre quite done with him, are you? LESBIA. As far as marriage is concerned, yes. The field is clear for you, Mrs George. [She goes into the study]. The General buries his face in his hands. Mrs George comes round the table to him. MRS GEORGE [sympathetically] She's a nice woman, that. And a sort of beauty about her too, different from anyone else. THE GENERAL [overwhelmed] Oh Mrs Collins, thank you, thank you a thousand times. [He rises effusively]. You have thawed the long- frozen springs [he kisses her hand]. Forgive me; and thank you: bless you--[he again takes refuge in the garden, choked with emotion]. MRS GEORGE [looking after him triumphantly] Just caught the dear old warrior on the bounce, eh? HOTCHKISS. Unfaithful to me already! MRS GEORGE. I'm not your property, young man dont you think it. [She goes over to him and faces him]. You understand that? [He suddenly snatches her into his arms and kisses her]. Oh! You. dare do that again, you young blackguard; and I'll jab one of these chairs in your face [she seizes one and holds it in readiness]. Now you shall not see me for another month. HOTCHKISS [deliberately] I shall pay my first visit to your husband this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. Youll see what he'll say to you when I tell him what youve just done. HOTCHKISS. What can he say? What dare he say? MRS GEORGE. Suppose he kicks you out of the house? HOTCHKISS. How can he? Ive fought seven duels with sabres. Ive muscles of iron. Nothing hurts me: not even broken bones. Fighting is absolutely uninteresting to me because it doesnt frighten me or amuse me; and I always win. Your husband is in all these respects an average man, probably. He will be horribly afraid of me; and if under the stimulus of your presence, and for your sake, and because it is the right thing to do among vulgar people, he were to attack me, I should simply defeat him and humiliate him [he gradually gets his hands on the chair and takes it from her, as his words go home phrase by phrase]. Sooner than expose him to that, you would suffer a thousand stolen kisses, wouldnt you? MRS GEORGE [in utter consternation] You young viper! HOTCHKISS. Ha ha! You are in my power. That is one of the oversights of your code of honor for husbands: the man who can bully them can insult their wives with impunity. Tell him if you dare. If I choose to take ten kisses, how will you prevent me? MRS GEORGE. You come within reach of me and I'll not leave a hair on your head. HOTCHKISS [catching her wrists dexterously] Ive got your hands. MRS GEORGE. Youve not got my teeth. Let go; or I'll bite. I will, I tell you. Let go. HOTCHKISS. Bite away: I shall taste quite as nice as George. MRS GEORGE. You beast. Let me go. Do you call yourself a gentleman, to use your brute strength against a woman? HOTCHKISS. You are stronger than me in every way but this. Do you think I will give up my one advantage? Promise youll receive me when I call this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. After what youve just done? Not if it was to save my life. HOTCHKISS. I'll amuse George. MRS GEORGE. He wont be in. HOTCHKISS [taken aback] Do you mean that we should be alone? MRS GEORGE [snatching away her hands triumphantly as his grasp relaxes] Aha! Thats cooled you, has it? HOTCHKISS [anxiously] When will George be at home? MRS GEORGE. It wont matter to you whether he's at home or not. The door will be slammed in your face whenever you call. HOTCHKISS. No servant in London is strong enough to close a door that I mean to keep open. You cant escape me. If you persist, I'll go into the coal trade; make George's acquaintance on the coal exchange; and coax him to take me home with him to make your acquaintance. MRS GEORGE. We have no use for you, young man: neither George nor I [she sails away from him and sits down at the end of the table near the study door]. HOTCHKISS [following her and taking the next chair round the corner of the table] Yes you have. George cant fight for you: I can. MRS GEORGE [turning to face him] You bully. You low bully. HOTCHKISS. You have courage and fascination: I have courage and a pair of fists. We're both bullies, Polly. MRS GEORGE. You have a mischievous tongue. Thats enough to keep you out of my house. HOTCHKISS. It must be rather a house of cards. A word from me to George--just the right word, said in the right way--and down comes your house. MRS GEORGE. Thats why I'll die sooner than let you into it. HOTCHKISS. Then as surely as you live, I enter the coal trade to- morrow. George's taste for amusing company will deliver him into my hands. Before a month passes your home will be at my mercy. MRS GEORGE [rising, at bay] Do you think I'll let myself be driven into a trap like this? HOTCHKISS. You are in it already. Marriage is a trap. You are married. Any man who has the power to spoil your marriage has the power to spoil your life. I have that power over you. MRS GEORGE [desperate] You mean it? HOTCHKISS. I do. MRS GEORGE [resolutely] Well, spoil my marriage and be-- HOTCHKISS [springing up] Polly! MRS GEORGE. Sooner than be your slave I'd face any unhappiness. HOTCHKISS. What! Even for George? MRS GEORGE. There must be honor between me and George, happiness or no happiness. Do your worst. HOTCHKISS [admiring her] Are you really game, Polly? Dare you defy me? MRS GEORGE. If you ask me another question I shant be able to keep my hands off you [she dashes distractedly past him to the other end of the table, her fingers crisping]. HOTCHKISS. That settles it. Polly: I adore you: we were born for one another. As I happen to be a gentleman, I'll never do anything to annoy or injure you except that I reserve the right to give you a black eye if you bite me; but youll never get rid of me now to the end of your life. MRS GEORGE. I shall get rid of you if the beadle has to brain you with the mace for it [she makes for the tower]. HOTCHKISS [running between the table and the oak chest and across to the tower to cut her off] You shant. MRS GEORGE [panting] Shant I though? HOTCHKISS. No you shant. I have one card left to play that youve forgotten. Why were you so unlike yourself when you spoke to the Bishop? MRS GEORGE [agitated beyond measure] Stop. Not that. You shall respect that if you respect nothing else. I forbid you. [He kneels at her feet]. What are you doing? Get up: dont be a fool. HOTCHKISS. Polly: I ask you on my knees to let me make George's acquaintance in his home this afternoon; and I shall remain on my knees till the Bishop comes in and sees us. What will he think of you then? MRS GEORGE [beside herself] Wheres the poker? She rushes to the fireplace; seizes the poker; and makes for Hotchkiss, who flies to the study door. The Bishop enters just then and finds himself between them, narrowly escaping a blow from the poker. THE BISHOP. Dont hit him, Mrs Collins. He is my guest. Mrs George throws down the poker; collapses into the nearest chair; and bursts into tears. The Bishop goes to her and pats her consolingly on the shoulder. She shudders all through at his touch. THE BISHOP. Come! you are in the house of your friends. Can we help you? MRS GEORGE [to Hotchkiss, pointing to the study] Go in there, you. Youre not wanted here. HOTCHKISS. You understand, Bishop, that Mrs Collins is not to blame for this scene. I'm afraid Ive been rather irritating. THE BISHOP. I can quite believe it, Sinjon. Hotchkiss goes into the study. THE BISHOP [turning to Mrs George with great kindness of manner] I'm sorry you have been worried [he sits down on her left]. Never mind him. A little pluck, a little gaiety of heart, a little prayer; and youll be laughing at him. MRS GEORGE. Never fear. I have all that. It was as much my fault as his; and I should have put him in his place with a clip of that poker on the side of his head if you hadnt come in. THE BISHOP. You might have put him in his coffin that way, Mrs Collins. And I should have been very sorry; because we are all fond of Sinjon. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's your duty to rebuke me. But do you think I dont know? THE BISHOP. I dont rebuke you. Who am I that I should rebuke you? Besides, I know there are discussions in which the poker is the only possible argument. MRS GEORGE. My lord: be earnest with me. I'm a very funny woman, I daresay; but I come from the same workshop as you. I heard you say that yourself years ago. THE BISHOP. Quite so; but then I'm a very funny Bishop. Since we are both funny people, let us not forget that humor is a divine attribute. MRS GEORGE. I know nothing about divine attributes or whatever you call them; but I can feel when I am being belittled. It was from you that I learnt first to respect myself. It was through you that I came to be able to walk safely through many wild and wilful paths. Dont go back on your own teaching. THE BISHOP. I'm not a teacher: only a fellow-traveller of whom you asked the way. I pointed ahead--ahead of myself as well as of you. MRS GEORGE [rising and standing over him almost threateningly] As I'm a living woman this day, if I find you out to be a fraud, I'll kill myself. THE BISHOP. What! Kill yourself for finding out something! For becoming a wiser and therefore a better woman! What a bad reason! MRS GEORGE. I have sometimes thought of killing you, and then killing myself. THE BISHOP. Why on earth should you kill yourself--not to mention me? MRS GEORGE. So that we might keep our assignation in Heaven. THE BISHOP [rising and facing her, breathless] Mrs. Collins! YOU are Incognita Appassionata! MRS GEORGE. You read my letters, then? [With a sigh of grateful relief, she sits down quietly, and says] Thank you. THE BISHOP [remorsefully] And I have broken the spell by making you come here [sitting down again]. Can you ever forgive me? MRS GEORGE. You couldnt know that it was only the coal merchant's wife, could you? THE BISHOP. Why do you say only the coal merchant's wife? MRS GEORGE. Many people would laugh at it. THE BISHOP. Poor people! It's so hard to know the right place to laugh, isnt it? MRS GEORGE. I didnt mean to make you think the letters were from a fine lady. I wrote on cheap paper; and I never could spell. THE BISHOP. Neither could I. So that told me nothing. MRS GEORGE. One thing I should like you to know. THE BISHOP. Yes? MRS GEORGE. We didnt cheat your friend. They were as good as we could do at thirteen shillings a ton. THE BISHOP. Thats important. Thank you for telling me. MRS GEORGE. I have something else to say; but will you please ask somebody to come and stay here while we talk? [He rises and turns to the study door]. Not a woman, if you dont mind. [He nods understandingly and passes on]. Not a man either. THE BISHOP [stopping] Not a man and not a woman! We have no children left, Mrs Collins. They are all grown up and married. MRS GEORGE. That other clergyman would do. THE BISHOP. What! The sexton? MRS GEORGE. Yes. He didnt mind my calling him that, did he? It was only my ignorance. THE BISHOP. Not at all. [He opens the study door and calls] Soames! Anthony! [To Mrs George] Call him Father: he likes it. [Soames appears at the study door]. Mrs Collins wishes you to join us, Anthony. Soames looks puzzled. MRS GEORGE. You dont mind, Dad, do you? [As this greeting visibly gives him a shock that hardly bears out the Bishop's advice, she says anxiously] That was what you told me to call him, wasnt it? SOAMES. I am called Father Anthony, Mrs Collins. But it does not matter what you call me. [He comes in, and walks past her to the hearth]. THE BISHOP. Mrs Collins has something to say to me that she wants you to hear. SOAMES. I am listening. THE BISHOP [going back to his seat next her] Now. MRS GEORGE. My lord: you should never have married. SOAMES. This woman is inspired. Listen to her, my lord. THE BISHOP [taken aback by the directness of the attack] I married because I was so much in love with Alice that all the difficulties and doubts and dangers of marriage seemed to me the merest moonshine. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's mean to let poor things in for so much while theyre in that state. Would you marry now that you know better if you were a widower? THE BISHOP. I'm old now. It wouldnt matter. MRS GEORGE. But would you if it did matter? THE BISHOP. I think I should marry again lest anyone should imagine I had found marriage unhappy with Alice. SOAMES [sternly] Are you fonder of your wife than of your salvation? THE BISHOP. Oh, very much. When you meet a man who is very particular about his salvation, look out for a woman who is very particular about her character; and marry them to one another: theyll make a perfect pair. I advise you to fall in love; Anthony. SOAMES [with horror] I!! THE BISHOP. Yes, you! think of what it would do for you. For her sake you would come to care unselfishly and diligently for money instead of being selfishly and lazily indifferent to it. For her sake you would come to care in the same way for preferment. For her sake you would come to care for your health, your appearance, the good opinion of your fellow creatures, and all the really important things that make men work and strive instead of mooning and nursing their salvation. SOAMES. In one word, for the sake of one deadly sin I should come to care for all the others. THE BISHOP. Saint Anthony! Tempt him, Mrs Collins: tempt him. MRS GEORGE [rising and looking strangely before her] Take care, my lord: you still have the power to make me obey your commands. And do you, Mr Sexton, beware of an empty heart. THE BISHOP. Yes. Nature abhors a vacuum, Anthony. I would not dare go about with an empty heart: why, the first girl I met would fly into it by mere atmospheric pressure. Alice keeps them out now. Mrs Collins knows. MRS GEORGE [a faint convulsion passing like a wave over her] I know more than either of you. One of you has not yet exhausted his first love: the other has not yet reached it. But I--I--[she reels and is again convulsed]. THE BISHOP [saving her from falling] Whats the matter? Are you ill, Mrs Collins? [He gets her back into her chair]. Soames: theres a glass of water in the study--quick. [Soames hurries to the study door.] MRS. GEORGE. No. [Soames stops]. Dont call. Dont bring anyone. Cant you hear anything? THE BISHOP. Nothing unusual. [He sits by her, watching her with intense surprise and interest]. MRS GEORGE. No music? SOAMES. No. [He steals to the end of the table and sits on her right, equally interested]. MRS GEORGE. Do you see nothing--not a great light? THE BISHOP. We are still walking in darkness. MRS GEORGE. Put your hand on my forehead: the hand with the ring. [He does so. Her eyes close]. SOAMES [inspired to prophesy] There was a certain woman, the wife of a coal merchant, which had been a great sinner . . . The Bishop, startled, takes his hand away. Mrs George's eyes open vividly as she interrupts Soames. MRS GEORGE. You prophesy falsely, Anthony: never in all my life have I done anything that was not ordained for me. [More quietly] Ive been myself. Ive not been afraid of myself. And at last I have escaped from myself, and am become a voice for them that are afraid to speak, and a cry for the hearts that break in silence. SOAMES [whispering] Is she inspired? THE BISHOP. Marvellous. Hush. MRS GEORGE. I have earned the right to speak. I have dared: I have gone through: I have not fallen withered in the fire: I have come at last out beyond, to the back of Godspeed? THE BISHOP. And what do you see there, at the back of Godspeed? SOAMES [hungrily] Give us your message. MRS GEORGE [with intensely sad reproach] When you loved me I gave you the whole sun and stars to play with. I gave you eternity in a single moment, strength of the mountains in one clasp of your arms, and the volume of all the seas in one impulse of your souls. A moment only; but was it not enough? Were you not paid then for all the rest of your struggle on earth? Must I mend your clothes and sweep your floors as well? Was it not enough? I paid the price without bargaining: I bore the children without flinching: was that a reason for heaping fresh burdens on me? I carried the child in my arms: must I carry the father too? When I opened the gates of paradise, were you blind? was it nothing to you? When all the stars sang in your ears and all the winds swept you into the heart of heaven, were you deaf? were you dull? was I no more to you than a bone to a dog? Was it not enough? We spent eternity together; and you ask me for a little lifetime more. We possessed all the universe together; and you ask me to give you my scanty wages as well. I have given you the greatest of all things; and you ask me to give you little things. I gave you your own soul: you ask me for my body as a plaything. Was it not enough? Was it not enough? SOAMES. Do you understand this, my lord? THE BISHOP. I have that advantage over you, Anthony, thanks to Alice. [He takes Mrs George's hand]. Your hand is very cold. Can you come down to earth? Do you remember who I am, and who you are? MRS GEORGE. It was enough for me. I did not ask to meet you--to touch you--[the Bishop quickly releases her hand]. When you spoke to my soul years ago from your pulpit, you opened the doors of my salvation to me; and now they stand open for ever. It was enough: I have asked you for nothing since: I ask you for nothing now. I have lived: it is enough. I have had my wages; and I am ready for my work. I thank you and bless you and leave you. You are happier in that than I am; for when I do for men what you did for me, I have no thanks, and no blessing: I am their prey; and there is no rest from their loving and no mercy from their loathing. THE BISHOP. You must take us as we are, Mrs Collins. SOAMES. No. Take us as we are capable of becoming. MRS GEORGE. Take me as I am: I ask no more. [She turns her head to the study door and cries] Yes: come in, come in. Hotchkiss comes softly in from the study. HOTCHKISS. Will you be so kind as to tell me whether I am dreaming? In there I have heard Mrs Collins saying the strangest things, and not a syllable from you two. SOAMES. My lord; is this possession by the devil? THE BISHOP. Or the ecstasy of a saint? HOTCHKISS. Or the convulsion of the pythoness on the tripod? THE BISHOP. May not the three be one? MRS GEORGE [troubled] You are paining and tiring me with idle questions. You are dragging me back to myself. You are tormenting me with your evil dreams of saints and devils and--what was it?-- [striving to fathom it] the pythoness--the pythoness--[giving it up] I dont understand. I am a woman: a human creature like yourselves. Will you not take me as I am? SOAMES. Yes; but shall we take you and burn you? THE BISHOP. Or take you and canonize you? HOTCHKISS [gaily] Or take you as a matter of course? [Swiftly to the Bishop] We must get her out of this: it's dangerous. [Aloud to her] May I suggest that you shall be Anthony's devil and the Bishop's saint and my adored Polly? [Slipping behind her, he picks up her hand from her lap and kisses it over her shoulder]. MRS GEORGE [waking] What was that? Who kissed my hand? [To the Bishop, eagerly] Was it you? [He shakes his head. She is mortified]. I beg your pardon. THE BISHOP. Not at all. I'm not repudiating that honor. Allow me [he kisses her hand]. MRS GEORGE. Thank you for that. It was not the sexton, was it? SOAMES. I! HOTCHKISS. It was I, Polly, your ever faithful. MRS GEORGE [turning and seeing him] Let me catch you doing it again: thats all. How do you come there? I sent you away. [With great energy, becoming quite herself again] What the goodness gracious has been happening? HOTCHKISS. As far as I can make out, you have been having a very charming and eloquent sort of fit. MRS GEORGE [delighted] What! My second sight! [To the Bishop] Oh, how I have prayed that it might come to me if ever I met you! And now it has come. How stunning! You may believe every word I said: I cant remember it now; but it was something that was just bursting to be said; and so it laid hold of me and said itself. Thats how it is, you see. Edith and Cecil Sykes come in through the tower. She has her hat on. Leo follows. They have evidently been out together. Sykes, with an unnatural air, half foolish, half rakish, as if he had lost all his self-respect and were determined not to let it prey on his spirits, throws himself into a chair at the end of the table near the hearth and thrusts his hands into his pockets, like Hogarth's Rake, without waiting for Edith to sit down. She sits in the railed chair. Leo takes the chair nearest the tower on the long side of the table, brooding, with closed lips. THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. With Cecil? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding? No reply. Blank silence. SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie. EDITH. Tell them yourself. The General comes in from the garden. THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me with some tobacco? Ive finished mine; and my nerves are still far from settled. THE BISHOP. Wait a moment, Boxer. Cecil has something important to tell us. SYKES. Weve done it. Thats all. HOTCHKISS. Done what, Cecil? SYKES. Well, what do you suppose? EDITH. Got married, of course. THE GENERAL. Married! Who gave you away? SYKES [jerking his head towards the tower] This gentleman did.[Seeing that they do not understand, he looks round and sees that there is no one there]. Oh! I thought he came in with us. Hes gone downstairs, I suppose. The Beadle. THE GENERAL. The Beadle! What the devil did he do that for? SYKES. Oh, I dont know: I didnt make any bargain with him. [To Mrs George] How much ought I to give him, Mrs Collins? MRS GEORGE. Five shillings. [To the Bishop] I want to rest for a moment: there! in your study. I saw it here [she touches her forehead]. THE BISHOP [opening the study door for her] By all means. Turn my brother out if he disturbs you. Soames: bring the letters out here. SYKES. He wont be offended at my offering it, will he? MRS GEORGE. Not he! He touches children with the mace to cure them of ringworm for fourpence apiece. [She goes into the study. Soames follows her]. THE GENERAL. Well, Edith, I'm a little disappointed, I must say. However, I'm glad it was done by somebody in a public uniform. Mrs Bridgenorth and Lesbia come in through the tower. Mrs Bridgenorth makes for the Bishop. He goes to her, and they meet near the oak chest. Lesbia comes between Sykes and Edith. THE BISHOP. Alice, my love, theyre married. MRS BRIDGENORTH [placidly] Oh, well, thats all right. Better tell Collins. Soames comes back from the study with his writing materials. He seats himself at the nearest end of the table and goes on with his work. Hotchkiss sits down in the next chair round the table corner, with his back to him. LESBIA. You have both given in, have you? EDITH. Not at all. We have provided for everything. SOAMES. How? EDITH. Before going to the church, we went to the office of that insurance company--whats its name, Cecil? SYKES. The British Family Insurance Corporation. It insures you against poor relations and all sorts of family contingencies. EDITH. It has consented to insure Cecil against libel actions brought against him on my account. It will give us specially low terms because I am a Bishop's daughter. SYKES. And I have given Edie my solemn word that if I ever commit a crime I'll knock her down before a

father

How many times the word 'father' appears in the text?

First, he talks as if the only thing of any importance in life was which particular woman he shall marry. Second, he has no self-control. THE GENERAL. Women are not all the same to me, Lesbia. MRS GEORGE. Why should they be, pray? Women are all different: it's the men who are all the same. Besides, what does Miss Grantham know about either men or women? She's got too much self- control. LESBIA [widening her eyes and lifting her chin haughtily] And pray how does that prevent me from knowing as much about men and women as people who have no self-control? MRS GEORGE. Because it frightens people into behaving themselves before you; and then how can you tell what they really are? Look at me! I was a spoilt child. My brothers and sisters were well brought up, like all children of respectable publicans. So should I have been if I hadnt been the youngest: ten years younger than my youngest brother. My parents were tired of doing their duty by their children by that time; and they spoilt me for all they were worth. I never knew what it was to want money or anything that money could buy. When I wanted my own way, I had nothing to do but scream for it till I got it. When I was annoyed I didnt control myself: I scratched and called names. Did you ever, after you were grown up, pull a grown-up woman's hair? Did you ever bite a grown-up man? Did you ever call both of them every name you could lay your tongue to? LESBIA [shivering with disgust] No. MRS GEORGE. Well, I did. I know what a woman is like when her hair's pulled. I know what a man is like when he's bit. I know what theyre both like when you tell them what you really feel about them. And thats how I know more of the world than you. LESBIA. The Chinese know what a man is like when he is cut into a thousand pieces, or boiled in oil. That sort of knowledge is of no use to me. I'm afraid we shall never get on with one another, Mrs George. I live like a fencer, always on guard. I like to be confronted with people who are always on guard. I hate sloppy people, slovenly people, people who cant sit up straight, sentimental people. MRS GEORGE. Oh, sentimental your grandmother! You dont learn to hold your own in the world by standing on guard, but by attacking, and getting well hammered yourself. LESBIA. I'm not a prize-fighter, Mrs. Collins. If I cant get a thing without the indignity of fighting for it, I do without it. MRS GEORGE. Do you? Does it strike you that if we were all as clever as you at doing without, there wouldnt be much to live for, would there? TAE GENERAL. I'm afraid, Lesbia, the things you do without are the things you dont want. LESBIA [surprised at his wit] Thats not bad for the silly soldier man. Yes, Boxer: the truth is, I dont want you enough to make the very unreasonable sacrifices required by marriage. And yet that is exactly why I ought to be married. Just because I have the qualities my country wants most I shall go barren to my grave; whilst the women who have neither the strength to resist marriage nor the intelligence to understand its infinite dishonor will make the England of the future. [She rises and walks towards the study]. THE GENERAL [as she is about to pass him] Well, I shall not ask you again, Lesbia. LESBIA. Thank you, Boxer. [She passes on to the study door]. MRS GEORGE. Youre quite done with him, are you? LESBIA. As far as marriage is concerned, yes. The field is clear for you, Mrs George. [She goes into the study]. The General buries his face in his hands. Mrs George comes round the table to him. MRS GEORGE [sympathetically] She's a nice woman, that. And a sort of beauty about her too, different from anyone else. THE GENERAL [overwhelmed] Oh Mrs Collins, thank you, thank you a thousand times. [He rises effusively]. You have thawed the long- frozen springs [he kisses her hand]. Forgive me; and thank you: bless you--[he again takes refuge in the garden, choked with emotion]. MRS GEORGE [looking after him triumphantly] Just caught the dear old warrior on the bounce, eh? HOTCHKISS. Unfaithful to me already! MRS GEORGE. I'm not your property, young man dont you think it. [She goes over to him and faces him]. You understand that? [He suddenly snatches her into his arms and kisses her]. Oh! You. dare do that again, you young blackguard; and I'll jab one of these chairs in your face [she seizes one and holds it in readiness]. Now you shall not see me for another month. HOTCHKISS [deliberately] I shall pay my first visit to your husband this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. Youll see what he'll say to you when I tell him what youve just done. HOTCHKISS. What can he say? What dare he say? MRS GEORGE. Suppose he kicks you out of the house? HOTCHKISS. How can he? Ive fought seven duels with sabres. Ive muscles of iron. Nothing hurts me: not even broken bones. Fighting is absolutely uninteresting to me because it doesnt frighten me or amuse me; and I always win. Your husband is in all these respects an average man, probably. He will be horribly afraid of me; and if under the stimulus of your presence, and for your sake, and because it is the right thing to do among vulgar people, he were to attack me, I should simply defeat him and humiliate him [he gradually gets his hands on the chair and takes it from her, as his words go home phrase by phrase]. Sooner than expose him to that, you would suffer a thousand stolen kisses, wouldnt you? MRS GEORGE [in utter consternation] You young viper! HOTCHKISS. Ha ha! You are in my power. That is one of the oversights of your code of honor for husbands: the man who can bully them can insult their wives with impunity. Tell him if you dare. If I choose to take ten kisses, how will you prevent me? MRS GEORGE. You come within reach of me and I'll not leave a hair on your head. HOTCHKISS [catching her wrists dexterously] Ive got your hands. MRS GEORGE. Youve not got my teeth. Let go; or I'll bite. I will, I tell you. Let go. HOTCHKISS. Bite away: I shall taste quite as nice as George. MRS GEORGE. You beast. Let me go. Do you call yourself a gentleman, to use your brute strength against a woman? HOTCHKISS. You are stronger than me in every way but this. Do you think I will give up my one advantage? Promise youll receive me when I call this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. After what youve just done? Not if it was to save my life. HOTCHKISS. I'll amuse George. MRS GEORGE. He wont be in. HOTCHKISS [taken aback] Do you mean that we should be alone? MRS GEORGE [snatching away her hands triumphantly as his grasp relaxes] Aha! Thats cooled you, has it? HOTCHKISS [anxiously] When will George be at home? MRS GEORGE. It wont matter to you whether he's at home or not. The door will be slammed in your face whenever you call. HOTCHKISS. No servant in London is strong enough to close a door that I mean to keep open. You cant escape me. If you persist, I'll go into the coal trade; make George's acquaintance on the coal exchange; and coax him to take me home with him to make your acquaintance. MRS GEORGE. We have no use for you, young man: neither George nor I [she sails away from him and sits down at the end of the table near the study door]. HOTCHKISS [following her and taking the next chair round the corner of the table] Yes you have. George cant fight for you: I can. MRS GEORGE [turning to face him] You bully. You low bully. HOTCHKISS. You have courage and fascination: I have courage and a pair of fists. We're both bullies, Polly. MRS GEORGE. You have a mischievous tongue. Thats enough to keep you out of my house. HOTCHKISS. It must be rather a house of cards. A word from me to George--just the right word, said in the right way--and down comes your house. MRS GEORGE. Thats why I'll die sooner than let you into it. HOTCHKISS. Then as surely as you live, I enter the coal trade to- morrow. George's taste for amusing company will deliver him into my hands. Before a month passes your home will be at my mercy. MRS GEORGE [rising, at bay] Do you think I'll let myself be driven into a trap like this? HOTCHKISS. You are in it already. Marriage is a trap. You are married. Any man who has the power to spoil your marriage has the power to spoil your life. I have that power over you. MRS GEORGE [desperate] You mean it? HOTCHKISS. I do. MRS GEORGE [resolutely] Well, spoil my marriage and be-- HOTCHKISS [springing up] Polly! MRS GEORGE. Sooner than be your slave I'd face any unhappiness. HOTCHKISS. What! Even for George? MRS GEORGE. There must be honor between me and George, happiness or no happiness. Do your worst. HOTCHKISS [admiring her] Are you really game, Polly? Dare you defy me? MRS GEORGE. If you ask me another question I shant be able to keep my hands off you [she dashes distractedly past him to the other end of the table, her fingers crisping]. HOTCHKISS. That settles it. Polly: I adore you: we were born for one another. As I happen to be a gentleman, I'll never do anything to annoy or injure you except that I reserve the right to give you a black eye if you bite me; but youll never get rid of me now to the end of your life. MRS GEORGE. I shall get rid of you if the beadle has to brain you with the mace for it [she makes for the tower]. HOTCHKISS [running between the table and the oak chest and across to the tower to cut her off] You shant. MRS GEORGE [panting] Shant I though? HOTCHKISS. No you shant. I have one card left to play that youve forgotten. Why were you so unlike yourself when you spoke to the Bishop? MRS GEORGE [agitated beyond measure] Stop. Not that. You shall respect that if you respect nothing else. I forbid you. [He kneels at her feet]. What are you doing? Get up: dont be a fool. HOTCHKISS. Polly: I ask you on my knees to let me make George's acquaintance in his home this afternoon; and I shall remain on my knees till the Bishop comes in and sees us. What will he think of you then? MRS GEORGE [beside herself] Wheres the poker? She rushes to the fireplace; seizes the poker; and makes for Hotchkiss, who flies to the study door. The Bishop enters just then and finds himself between them, narrowly escaping a blow from the poker. THE BISHOP. Dont hit him, Mrs Collins. He is my guest. Mrs George throws down the poker; collapses into the nearest chair; and bursts into tears. The Bishop goes to her and pats her consolingly on the shoulder. She shudders all through at his touch. THE BISHOP. Come! you are in the house of your friends. Can we help you? MRS GEORGE [to Hotchkiss, pointing to the study] Go in there, you. Youre not wanted here. HOTCHKISS. You understand, Bishop, that Mrs Collins is not to blame for this scene. I'm afraid Ive been rather irritating. THE BISHOP. I can quite believe it, Sinjon. Hotchkiss goes into the study. THE BISHOP [turning to Mrs George with great kindness of manner] I'm sorry you have been worried [he sits down on her left]. Never mind him. A little pluck, a little gaiety of heart, a little prayer; and youll be laughing at him. MRS GEORGE. Never fear. I have all that. It was as much my fault as his; and I should have put him in his place with a clip of that poker on the side of his head if you hadnt come in. THE BISHOP. You might have put him in his coffin that way, Mrs Collins. And I should have been very sorry; because we are all fond of Sinjon. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's your duty to rebuke me. But do you think I dont know? THE BISHOP. I dont rebuke you. Who am I that I should rebuke you? Besides, I know there are discussions in which the poker is the only possible argument. MRS GEORGE. My lord: be earnest with me. I'm a very funny woman, I daresay; but I come from the same workshop as you. I heard you say that yourself years ago. THE BISHOP. Quite so; but then I'm a very funny Bishop. Since we are both funny people, let us not forget that humor is a divine attribute. MRS GEORGE. I know nothing about divine attributes or whatever you call them; but I can feel when I am being belittled. It was from you that I learnt first to respect myself. It was through you that I came to be able to walk safely through many wild and wilful paths. Dont go back on your own teaching. THE BISHOP. I'm not a teacher: only a fellow-traveller of whom you asked the way. I pointed ahead--ahead of myself as well as of you. MRS GEORGE [rising and standing over him almost threateningly] As I'm a living woman this day, if I find you out to be a fraud, I'll kill myself. THE BISHOP. What! Kill yourself for finding out something! For becoming a wiser and therefore a better woman! What a bad reason! MRS GEORGE. I have sometimes thought of killing you, and then killing myself. THE BISHOP. Why on earth should you kill yourself--not to mention me? MRS GEORGE. So that we might keep our assignation in Heaven. THE BISHOP [rising and facing her, breathless] Mrs. Collins! YOU are Incognita Appassionata! MRS GEORGE. You read my letters, then? [With a sigh of grateful relief, she sits down quietly, and says] Thank you. THE BISHOP [remorsefully] And I have broken the spell by making you come here [sitting down again]. Can you ever forgive me? MRS GEORGE. You couldnt know that it was only the coal merchant's wife, could you? THE BISHOP. Why do you say only the coal merchant's wife? MRS GEORGE. Many people would laugh at it. THE BISHOP. Poor people! It's so hard to know the right place to laugh, isnt it? MRS GEORGE. I didnt mean to make you think the letters were from a fine lady. I wrote on cheap paper; and I never could spell. THE BISHOP. Neither could I. So that told me nothing. MRS GEORGE. One thing I should like you to know. THE BISHOP. Yes? MRS GEORGE. We didnt cheat your friend. They were as good as we could do at thirteen shillings a ton. THE BISHOP. Thats important. Thank you for telling me. MRS GEORGE. I have something else to say; but will you please ask somebody to come and stay here while we talk? [He rises and turns to the study door]. Not a woman, if you dont mind. [He nods understandingly and passes on]. Not a man either. THE BISHOP [stopping] Not a man and not a woman! We have no children left, Mrs Collins. They are all grown up and married. MRS GEORGE. That other clergyman would do. THE BISHOP. What! The sexton? MRS GEORGE. Yes. He didnt mind my calling him that, did he? It was only my ignorance. THE BISHOP. Not at all. [He opens the study door and calls] Soames! Anthony! [To Mrs George] Call him Father: he likes it. [Soames appears at the study door]. Mrs Collins wishes you to join us, Anthony. Soames looks puzzled. MRS GEORGE. You dont mind, Dad, do you? [As this greeting visibly gives him a shock that hardly bears out the Bishop's advice, she says anxiously] That was what you told me to call him, wasnt it? SOAMES. I am called Father Anthony, Mrs Collins. But it does not matter what you call me. [He comes in, and walks past her to the hearth]. THE BISHOP. Mrs Collins has something to say to me that she wants you to hear. SOAMES. I am listening. THE BISHOP [going back to his seat next her] Now. MRS GEORGE. My lord: you should never have married. SOAMES. This woman is inspired. Listen to her, my lord. THE BISHOP [taken aback by the directness of the attack] I married because I was so much in love with Alice that all the difficulties and doubts and dangers of marriage seemed to me the merest moonshine. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's mean to let poor things in for so much while theyre in that state. Would you marry now that you know better if you were a widower? THE BISHOP. I'm old now. It wouldnt matter. MRS GEORGE. But would you if it did matter? THE BISHOP. I think I should marry again lest anyone should imagine I had found marriage unhappy with Alice. SOAMES [sternly] Are you fonder of your wife than of your salvation? THE BISHOP. Oh, very much. When you meet a man who is very particular about his salvation, look out for a woman who is very particular about her character; and marry them to one another: theyll make a perfect pair. I advise you to fall in love; Anthony. SOAMES [with horror] I!! THE BISHOP. Yes, you! think of what it would do for you. For her sake you would come to care unselfishly and diligently for money instead of being selfishly and lazily indifferent to it. For her sake you would come to care in the same way for preferment. For her sake you would come to care for your health, your appearance, the good opinion of your fellow creatures, and all the really important things that make men work and strive instead of mooning and nursing their salvation. SOAMES. In one word, for the sake of one deadly sin I should come to care for all the others. THE BISHOP. Saint Anthony! Tempt him, Mrs Collins: tempt him. MRS GEORGE [rising and looking strangely before her] Take care, my lord: you still have the power to make me obey your commands. And do you, Mr Sexton, beware of an empty heart. THE BISHOP. Yes. Nature abhors a vacuum, Anthony. I would not dare go about with an empty heart: why, the first girl I met would fly into it by mere atmospheric pressure. Alice keeps them out now. Mrs Collins knows. MRS GEORGE [a faint convulsion passing like a wave over her] I know more than either of you. One of you has not yet exhausted his first love: the other has not yet reached it. But I--I--[she reels and is again convulsed]. THE BISHOP [saving her from falling] Whats the matter? Are you ill, Mrs Collins? [He gets her back into her chair]. Soames: theres a glass of water in the study--quick. [Soames hurries to the study door.] MRS. GEORGE. No. [Soames stops]. Dont call. Dont bring anyone. Cant you hear anything? THE BISHOP. Nothing unusual. [He sits by her, watching her with intense surprise and interest]. MRS GEORGE. No music? SOAMES. No. [He steals to the end of the table and sits on her right, equally interested]. MRS GEORGE. Do you see nothing--not a great light? THE BISHOP. We are still walking in darkness. MRS GEORGE. Put your hand on my forehead: the hand with the ring. [He does so. Her eyes close]. SOAMES [inspired to prophesy] There was a certain woman, the wife of a coal merchant, which had been a great sinner . . . The Bishop, startled, takes his hand away. Mrs George's eyes open vividly as she interrupts Soames. MRS GEORGE. You prophesy falsely, Anthony: never in all my life have I done anything that was not ordained for me. [More quietly] Ive been myself. Ive not been afraid of myself. And at last I have escaped from myself, and am become a voice for them that are afraid to speak, and a cry for the hearts that break in silence. SOAMES [whispering] Is she inspired? THE BISHOP. Marvellous. Hush. MRS GEORGE. I have earned the right to speak. I have dared: I have gone through: I have not fallen withered in the fire: I have come at last out beyond, to the back of Godspeed? THE BISHOP. And what do you see there, at the back of Godspeed? SOAMES [hungrily] Give us your message. MRS GEORGE [with intensely sad reproach] When you loved me I gave you the whole sun and stars to play with. I gave you eternity in a single moment, strength of the mountains in one clasp of your arms, and the volume of all the seas in one impulse of your souls. A moment only; but was it not enough? Were you not paid then for all the rest of your struggle on earth? Must I mend your clothes and sweep your floors as well? Was it not enough? I paid the price without bargaining: I bore the children without flinching: was that a reason for heaping fresh burdens on me? I carried the child in my arms: must I carry the father too? When I opened the gates of paradise, were you blind? was it nothing to you? When all the stars sang in your ears and all the winds swept you into the heart of heaven, were you deaf? were you dull? was I no more to you than a bone to a dog? Was it not enough? We spent eternity together; and you ask me for a little lifetime more. We possessed all the universe together; and you ask me to give you my scanty wages as well. I have given you the greatest of all things; and you ask me to give you little things. I gave you your own soul: you ask me for my body as a plaything. Was it not enough? Was it not enough? SOAMES. Do you understand this, my lord? THE BISHOP. I have that advantage over you, Anthony, thanks to Alice. [He takes Mrs George's hand]. Your hand is very cold. Can you come down to earth? Do you remember who I am, and who you are? MRS GEORGE. It was enough for me. I did not ask to meet you--to touch you--[the Bishop quickly releases her hand]. When you spoke to my soul years ago from your pulpit, you opened the doors of my salvation to me; and now they stand open for ever. It was enough: I have asked you for nothing since: I ask you for nothing now. I have lived: it is enough. I have had my wages; and I am ready for my work. I thank you and bless you and leave you. You are happier in that than I am; for when I do for men what you did for me, I have no thanks, and no blessing: I am their prey; and there is no rest from their loving and no mercy from their loathing. THE BISHOP. You must take us as we are, Mrs Collins. SOAMES. No. Take us as we are capable of becoming. MRS GEORGE. Take me as I am: I ask no more. [She turns her head to the study door and cries] Yes: come in, come in. Hotchkiss comes softly in from the study. HOTCHKISS. Will you be so kind as to tell me whether I am dreaming? In there I have heard Mrs Collins saying the strangest things, and not a syllable from you two. SOAMES. My lord; is this possession by the devil? THE BISHOP. Or the ecstasy of a saint? HOTCHKISS. Or the convulsion of the pythoness on the tripod? THE BISHOP. May not the three be one? MRS GEORGE [troubled] You are paining and tiring me with idle questions. You are dragging me back to myself. You are tormenting me with your evil dreams of saints and devils and--what was it?-- [striving to fathom it] the pythoness--the pythoness--[giving it up] I dont understand. I am a woman: a human creature like yourselves. Will you not take me as I am? SOAMES. Yes; but shall we take you and burn you? THE BISHOP. Or take you and canonize you? HOTCHKISS [gaily] Or take you as a matter of course? [Swiftly to the Bishop] We must get her out of this: it's dangerous. [Aloud to her] May I suggest that you shall be Anthony's devil and the Bishop's saint and my adored Polly? [Slipping behind her, he picks up her hand from her lap and kisses it over her shoulder]. MRS GEORGE [waking] What was that? Who kissed my hand? [To the Bishop, eagerly] Was it you? [He shakes his head. She is mortified]. I beg your pardon. THE BISHOP. Not at all. I'm not repudiating that honor. Allow me [he kisses her hand]. MRS GEORGE. Thank you for that. It was not the sexton, was it? SOAMES. I! HOTCHKISS. It was I, Polly, your ever faithful. MRS GEORGE [turning and seeing him] Let me catch you doing it again: thats all. How do you come there? I sent you away. [With great energy, becoming quite herself again] What the goodness gracious has been happening? HOTCHKISS. As far as I can make out, you have been having a very charming and eloquent sort of fit. MRS GEORGE [delighted] What! My second sight! [To the Bishop] Oh, how I have prayed that it might come to me if ever I met you! And now it has come. How stunning! You may believe every word I said: I cant remember it now; but it was something that was just bursting to be said; and so it laid hold of me and said itself. Thats how it is, you see. Edith and Cecil Sykes come in through the tower. She has her hat on. Leo follows. They have evidently been out together. Sykes, with an unnatural air, half foolish, half rakish, as if he had lost all his self-respect and were determined not to let it prey on his spirits, throws himself into a chair at the end of the table near the hearth and thrusts his hands into his pockets, like Hogarth's Rake, without waiting for Edith to sit down. She sits in the railed chair. Leo takes the chair nearest the tower on the long side of the table, brooding, with closed lips. THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. With Cecil? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding? No reply. Blank silence. SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie. EDITH. Tell them yourself. The General comes in from the garden. THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me with some tobacco? Ive finished mine; and my nerves are still far from settled. THE BISHOP. Wait a moment, Boxer. Cecil has something important to tell us. SYKES. Weve done it. Thats all. HOTCHKISS. Done what, Cecil? SYKES. Well, what do you suppose? EDITH. Got married, of course. THE GENERAL. Married! Who gave you away? SYKES [jerking his head towards the tower] This gentleman did.[Seeing that they do not understand, he looks round and sees that there is no one there]. Oh! I thought he came in with us. Hes gone downstairs, I suppose. The Beadle. THE GENERAL. The Beadle! What the devil did he do that for? SYKES. Oh, I dont know: I didnt make any bargain with him. [To Mrs George] How much ought I to give him, Mrs Collins? MRS GEORGE. Five shillings. [To the Bishop] I want to rest for a moment: there! in your study. I saw it here [she touches her forehead]. THE BISHOP [opening the study door for her] By all means. Turn my brother out if he disturbs you. Soames: bring the letters out here. SYKES. He wont be offended at my offering it, will he? MRS GEORGE. Not he! He touches children with the mace to cure them of ringworm for fourpence apiece. [She goes into the study. Soames follows her]. THE GENERAL. Well, Edith, I'm a little disappointed, I must say. However, I'm glad it was done by somebody in a public uniform. Mrs Bridgenorth and Lesbia come in through the tower. Mrs Bridgenorth makes for the Bishop. He goes to her, and they meet near the oak chest. Lesbia comes between Sykes and Edith. THE BISHOP. Alice, my love, theyre married. MRS BRIDGENORTH [placidly] Oh, well, thats all right. Better tell Collins. Soames comes back from the study with his writing materials. He seats himself at the nearest end of the table and goes on with his work. Hotchkiss sits down in the next chair round the table corner, with his back to him. LESBIA. You have both given in, have you? EDITH. Not at all. We have provided for everything. SOAMES. How? EDITH. Before going to the church, we went to the office of that insurance company--whats its name, Cecil? SYKES. The British Family Insurance Corporation. It insures you against poor relations and all sorts of family contingencies. EDITH. It has consented to insure Cecil against libel actions brought against him on my account. It will give us specially low terms because I am a Bishop's daughter. SYKES. And I have given Edie my solemn word that if I ever commit a crime I'll knock her down before a

busy

How many times the word 'busy' appears in the text?

First, he talks as if the only thing of any importance in life was which particular woman he shall marry. Second, he has no self-control. THE GENERAL. Women are not all the same to me, Lesbia. MRS GEORGE. Why should they be, pray? Women are all different: it's the men who are all the same. Besides, what does Miss Grantham know about either men or women? She's got too much self- control. LESBIA [widening her eyes and lifting her chin haughtily] And pray how does that prevent me from knowing as much about men and women as people who have no self-control? MRS GEORGE. Because it frightens people into behaving themselves before you; and then how can you tell what they really are? Look at me! I was a spoilt child. My brothers and sisters were well brought up, like all children of respectable publicans. So should I have been if I hadnt been the youngest: ten years younger than my youngest brother. My parents were tired of doing their duty by their children by that time; and they spoilt me for all they were worth. I never knew what it was to want money or anything that money could buy. When I wanted my own way, I had nothing to do but scream for it till I got it. When I was annoyed I didnt control myself: I scratched and called names. Did you ever, after you were grown up, pull a grown-up woman's hair? Did you ever bite a grown-up man? Did you ever call both of them every name you could lay your tongue to? LESBIA [shivering with disgust] No. MRS GEORGE. Well, I did. I know what a woman is like when her hair's pulled. I know what a man is like when he's bit. I know what theyre both like when you tell them what you really feel about them. And thats how I know more of the world than you. LESBIA. The Chinese know what a man is like when he is cut into a thousand pieces, or boiled in oil. That sort of knowledge is of no use to me. I'm afraid we shall never get on with one another, Mrs George. I live like a fencer, always on guard. I like to be confronted with people who are always on guard. I hate sloppy people, slovenly people, people who cant sit up straight, sentimental people. MRS GEORGE. Oh, sentimental your grandmother! You dont learn to hold your own in the world by standing on guard, but by attacking, and getting well hammered yourself. LESBIA. I'm not a prize-fighter, Mrs. Collins. If I cant get a thing without the indignity of fighting for it, I do without it. MRS GEORGE. Do you? Does it strike you that if we were all as clever as you at doing without, there wouldnt be much to live for, would there? TAE GENERAL. I'm afraid, Lesbia, the things you do without are the things you dont want. LESBIA [surprised at his wit] Thats not bad for the silly soldier man. Yes, Boxer: the truth is, I dont want you enough to make the very unreasonable sacrifices required by marriage. And yet that is exactly why I ought to be married. Just because I have the qualities my country wants most I shall go barren to my grave; whilst the women who have neither the strength to resist marriage nor the intelligence to understand its infinite dishonor will make the England of the future. [She rises and walks towards the study]. THE GENERAL [as she is about to pass him] Well, I shall not ask you again, Lesbia. LESBIA. Thank you, Boxer. [She passes on to the study door]. MRS GEORGE. Youre quite done with him, are you? LESBIA. As far as marriage is concerned, yes. The field is clear for you, Mrs George. [She goes into the study]. The General buries his face in his hands. Mrs George comes round the table to him. MRS GEORGE [sympathetically] She's a nice woman, that. And a sort of beauty about her too, different from anyone else. THE GENERAL [overwhelmed] Oh Mrs Collins, thank you, thank you a thousand times. [He rises effusively]. You have thawed the long- frozen springs [he kisses her hand]. Forgive me; and thank you: bless you--[he again takes refuge in the garden, choked with emotion]. MRS GEORGE [looking after him triumphantly] Just caught the dear old warrior on the bounce, eh? HOTCHKISS. Unfaithful to me already! MRS GEORGE. I'm not your property, young man dont you think it. [She goes over to him and faces him]. You understand that? [He suddenly snatches her into his arms and kisses her]. Oh! You. dare do that again, you young blackguard; and I'll jab one of these chairs in your face [she seizes one and holds it in readiness]. Now you shall not see me for another month. HOTCHKISS [deliberately] I shall pay my first visit to your husband this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. Youll see what he'll say to you when I tell him what youve just done. HOTCHKISS. What can he say? What dare he say? MRS GEORGE. Suppose he kicks you out of the house? HOTCHKISS. How can he? Ive fought seven duels with sabres. Ive muscles of iron. Nothing hurts me: not even broken bones. Fighting is absolutely uninteresting to me because it doesnt frighten me or amuse me; and I always win. Your husband is in all these respects an average man, probably. He will be horribly afraid of me; and if under the stimulus of your presence, and for your sake, and because it is the right thing to do among vulgar people, he were to attack me, I should simply defeat him and humiliate him [he gradually gets his hands on the chair and takes it from her, as his words go home phrase by phrase]. Sooner than expose him to that, you would suffer a thousand stolen kisses, wouldnt you? MRS GEORGE [in utter consternation] You young viper! HOTCHKISS. Ha ha! You are in my power. That is one of the oversights of your code of honor for husbands: the man who can bully them can insult their wives with impunity. Tell him if you dare. If I choose to take ten kisses, how will you prevent me? MRS GEORGE. You come within reach of me and I'll not leave a hair on your head. HOTCHKISS [catching her wrists dexterously] Ive got your hands. MRS GEORGE. Youve not got my teeth. Let go; or I'll bite. I will, I tell you. Let go. HOTCHKISS. Bite away: I shall taste quite as nice as George. MRS GEORGE. You beast. Let me go. Do you call yourself a gentleman, to use your brute strength against a woman? HOTCHKISS. You are stronger than me in every way but this. Do you think I will give up my one advantage? Promise youll receive me when I call this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. After what youve just done? Not if it was to save my life. HOTCHKISS. I'll amuse George. MRS GEORGE. He wont be in. HOTCHKISS [taken aback] Do you mean that we should be alone? MRS GEORGE [snatching away her hands triumphantly as his grasp relaxes] Aha! Thats cooled you, has it? HOTCHKISS [anxiously] When will George be at home? MRS GEORGE. It wont matter to you whether he's at home or not. The door will be slammed in your face whenever you call. HOTCHKISS. No servant in London is strong enough to close a door that I mean to keep open. You cant escape me. If you persist, I'll go into the coal trade; make George's acquaintance on the coal exchange; and coax him to take me home with him to make your acquaintance. MRS GEORGE. We have no use for you, young man: neither George nor I [she sails away from him and sits down at the end of the table near the study door]. HOTCHKISS [following her and taking the next chair round the corner of the table] Yes you have. George cant fight for you: I can. MRS GEORGE [turning to face him] You bully. You low bully. HOTCHKISS. You have courage and fascination: I have courage and a pair of fists. We're both bullies, Polly. MRS GEORGE. You have a mischievous tongue. Thats enough to keep you out of my house. HOTCHKISS. It must be rather a house of cards. A word from me to George--just the right word, said in the right way--and down comes your house. MRS GEORGE. Thats why I'll die sooner than let you into it. HOTCHKISS. Then as surely as you live, I enter the coal trade to- morrow. George's taste for amusing company will deliver him into my hands. Before a month passes your home will be at my mercy. MRS GEORGE [rising, at bay] Do you think I'll let myself be driven into a trap like this? HOTCHKISS. You are in it already. Marriage is a trap. You are married. Any man who has the power to spoil your marriage has the power to spoil your life. I have that power over you. MRS GEORGE [desperate] You mean it? HOTCHKISS. I do. MRS GEORGE [resolutely] Well, spoil my marriage and be-- HOTCHKISS [springing up] Polly! MRS GEORGE. Sooner than be your slave I'd face any unhappiness. HOTCHKISS. What! Even for George? MRS GEORGE. There must be honor between me and George, happiness or no happiness. Do your worst. HOTCHKISS [admiring her] Are you really game, Polly? Dare you defy me? MRS GEORGE. If you ask me another question I shant be able to keep my hands off you [she dashes distractedly past him to the other end of the table, her fingers crisping]. HOTCHKISS. That settles it. Polly: I adore you: we were born for one another. As I happen to be a gentleman, I'll never do anything to annoy or injure you except that I reserve the right to give you a black eye if you bite me; but youll never get rid of me now to the end of your life. MRS GEORGE. I shall get rid of you if the beadle has to brain you with the mace for it [she makes for the tower]. HOTCHKISS [running between the table and the oak chest and across to the tower to cut her off] You shant. MRS GEORGE [panting] Shant I though? HOTCHKISS. No you shant. I have one card left to play that youve forgotten. Why were you so unlike yourself when you spoke to the Bishop? MRS GEORGE [agitated beyond measure] Stop. Not that. You shall respect that if you respect nothing else. I forbid you. [He kneels at her feet]. What are you doing? Get up: dont be a fool. HOTCHKISS. Polly: I ask you on my knees to let me make George's acquaintance in his home this afternoon; and I shall remain on my knees till the Bishop comes in and sees us. What will he think of you then? MRS GEORGE [beside herself] Wheres the poker? She rushes to the fireplace; seizes the poker; and makes for Hotchkiss, who flies to the study door. The Bishop enters just then and finds himself between them, narrowly escaping a blow from the poker. THE BISHOP. Dont hit him, Mrs Collins. He is my guest. Mrs George throws down the poker; collapses into the nearest chair; and bursts into tears. The Bishop goes to her and pats her consolingly on the shoulder. She shudders all through at his touch. THE BISHOP. Come! you are in the house of your friends. Can we help you? MRS GEORGE [to Hotchkiss, pointing to the study] Go in there, you. Youre not wanted here. HOTCHKISS. You understand, Bishop, that Mrs Collins is not to blame for this scene. I'm afraid Ive been rather irritating. THE BISHOP. I can quite believe it, Sinjon. Hotchkiss goes into the study. THE BISHOP [turning to Mrs George with great kindness of manner] I'm sorry you have been worried [he sits down on her left]. Never mind him. A little pluck, a little gaiety of heart, a little prayer; and youll be laughing at him. MRS GEORGE. Never fear. I have all that. It was as much my fault as his; and I should have put him in his place with a clip of that poker on the side of his head if you hadnt come in. THE BISHOP. You might have put him in his coffin that way, Mrs Collins. And I should have been very sorry; because we are all fond of Sinjon. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's your duty to rebuke me. But do you think I dont know? THE BISHOP. I dont rebuke you. Who am I that I should rebuke you? Besides, I know there are discussions in which the poker is the only possible argument. MRS GEORGE. My lord: be earnest with me. I'm a very funny woman, I daresay; but I come from the same workshop as you. I heard you say that yourself years ago. THE BISHOP. Quite so; but then I'm a very funny Bishop. Since we are both funny people, let us not forget that humor is a divine attribute. MRS GEORGE. I know nothing about divine attributes or whatever you call them; but I can feel when I am being belittled. It was from you that I learnt first to respect myself. It was through you that I came to be able to walk safely through many wild and wilful paths. Dont go back on your own teaching. THE BISHOP. I'm not a teacher: only a fellow-traveller of whom you asked the way. I pointed ahead--ahead of myself as well as of you. MRS GEORGE [rising and standing over him almost threateningly] As I'm a living woman this day, if I find you out to be a fraud, I'll kill myself. THE BISHOP. What! Kill yourself for finding out something! For becoming a wiser and therefore a better woman! What a bad reason! MRS GEORGE. I have sometimes thought of killing you, and then killing myself. THE BISHOP. Why on earth should you kill yourself--not to mention me? MRS GEORGE. So that we might keep our assignation in Heaven. THE BISHOP [rising and facing her, breathless] Mrs. Collins! YOU are Incognita Appassionata! MRS GEORGE. You read my letters, then? [With a sigh of grateful relief, she sits down quietly, and says] Thank you. THE BISHOP [remorsefully] And I have broken the spell by making you come here [sitting down again]. Can you ever forgive me? MRS GEORGE. You couldnt know that it was only the coal merchant's wife, could you? THE BISHOP. Why do you say only the coal merchant's wife? MRS GEORGE. Many people would laugh at it. THE BISHOP. Poor people! It's so hard to know the right place to laugh, isnt it? MRS GEORGE. I didnt mean to make you think the letters were from a fine lady. I wrote on cheap paper; and I never could spell. THE BISHOP. Neither could I. So that told me nothing. MRS GEORGE. One thing I should like you to know. THE BISHOP. Yes? MRS GEORGE. We didnt cheat your friend. They were as good as we could do at thirteen shillings a ton. THE BISHOP. Thats important. Thank you for telling me. MRS GEORGE. I have something else to say; but will you please ask somebody to come and stay here while we talk? [He rises and turns to the study door]. Not a woman, if you dont mind. [He nods understandingly and passes on]. Not a man either. THE BISHOP [stopping] Not a man and not a woman! We have no children left, Mrs Collins. They are all grown up and married. MRS GEORGE. That other clergyman would do. THE BISHOP. What! The sexton? MRS GEORGE. Yes. He didnt mind my calling him that, did he? It was only my ignorance. THE BISHOP. Not at all. [He opens the study door and calls] Soames! Anthony! [To Mrs George] Call him Father: he likes it. [Soames appears at the study door]. Mrs Collins wishes you to join us, Anthony. Soames looks puzzled. MRS GEORGE. You dont mind, Dad, do you? [As this greeting visibly gives him a shock that hardly bears out the Bishop's advice, she says anxiously] That was what you told me to call him, wasnt it? SOAMES. I am called Father Anthony, Mrs Collins. But it does not matter what you call me. [He comes in, and walks past her to the hearth]. THE BISHOP. Mrs Collins has something to say to me that she wants you to hear. SOAMES. I am listening. THE BISHOP [going back to his seat next her] Now. MRS GEORGE. My lord: you should never have married. SOAMES. This woman is inspired. Listen to her, my lord. THE BISHOP [taken aback by the directness of the attack] I married because I was so much in love with Alice that all the difficulties and doubts and dangers of marriage seemed to me the merest moonshine. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's mean to let poor things in for so much while theyre in that state. Would you marry now that you know better if you were a widower? THE BISHOP. I'm old now. It wouldnt matter. MRS GEORGE. But would you if it did matter? THE BISHOP. I think I should marry again lest anyone should imagine I had found marriage unhappy with Alice. SOAMES [sternly] Are you fonder of your wife than of your salvation? THE BISHOP. Oh, very much. When you meet a man who is very particular about his salvation, look out for a woman who is very particular about her character; and marry them to one another: theyll make a perfect pair. I advise you to fall in love; Anthony. SOAMES [with horror] I!! THE BISHOP. Yes, you! think of what it would do for you. For her sake you would come to care unselfishly and diligently for money instead of being selfishly and lazily indifferent to it. For her sake you would come to care in the same way for preferment. For her sake you would come to care for your health, your appearance, the good opinion of your fellow creatures, and all the really important things that make men work and strive instead of mooning and nursing their salvation. SOAMES. In one word, for the sake of one deadly sin I should come to care for all the others. THE BISHOP. Saint Anthony! Tempt him, Mrs Collins: tempt him. MRS GEORGE [rising and looking strangely before her] Take care, my lord: you still have the power to make me obey your commands. And do you, Mr Sexton, beware of an empty heart. THE BISHOP. Yes. Nature abhors a vacuum, Anthony. I would not dare go about with an empty heart: why, the first girl I met would fly into it by mere atmospheric pressure. Alice keeps them out now. Mrs Collins knows. MRS GEORGE [a faint convulsion passing like a wave over her] I know more than either of you. One of you has not yet exhausted his first love: the other has not yet reached it. But I--I--[she reels and is again convulsed]. THE BISHOP [saving her from falling] Whats the matter? Are you ill, Mrs Collins? [He gets her back into her chair]. Soames: theres a glass of water in the study--quick. [Soames hurries to the study door.] MRS. GEORGE. No. [Soames stops]. Dont call. Dont bring anyone. Cant you hear anything? THE BISHOP. Nothing unusual. [He sits by her, watching her with intense surprise and interest]. MRS GEORGE. No music? SOAMES. No. [He steals to the end of the table and sits on her right, equally interested]. MRS GEORGE. Do you see nothing--not a great light? THE BISHOP. We are still walking in darkness. MRS GEORGE. Put your hand on my forehead: the hand with the ring. [He does so. Her eyes close]. SOAMES [inspired to prophesy] There was a certain woman, the wife of a coal merchant, which had been a great sinner . . . The Bishop, startled, takes his hand away. Mrs George's eyes open vividly as she interrupts Soames. MRS GEORGE. You prophesy falsely, Anthony: never in all my life have I done anything that was not ordained for me. [More quietly] Ive been myself. Ive not been afraid of myself. And at last I have escaped from myself, and am become a voice for them that are afraid to speak, and a cry for the hearts that break in silence. SOAMES [whispering] Is she inspired? THE BISHOP. Marvellous. Hush. MRS GEORGE. I have earned the right to speak. I have dared: I have gone through: I have not fallen withered in the fire: I have come at last out beyond, to the back of Godspeed? THE BISHOP. And what do you see there, at the back of Godspeed? SOAMES [hungrily] Give us your message. MRS GEORGE [with intensely sad reproach] When you loved me I gave you the whole sun and stars to play with. I gave you eternity in a single moment, strength of the mountains in one clasp of your arms, and the volume of all the seas in one impulse of your souls. A moment only; but was it not enough? Were you not paid then for all the rest of your struggle on earth? Must I mend your clothes and sweep your floors as well? Was it not enough? I paid the price without bargaining: I bore the children without flinching: was that a reason for heaping fresh burdens on me? I carried the child in my arms: must I carry the father too? When I opened the gates of paradise, were you blind? was it nothing to you? When all the stars sang in your ears and all the winds swept you into the heart of heaven, were you deaf? were you dull? was I no more to you than a bone to a dog? Was it not enough? We spent eternity together; and you ask me for a little lifetime more. We possessed all the universe together; and you ask me to give you my scanty wages as well. I have given you the greatest of all things; and you ask me to give you little things. I gave you your own soul: you ask me for my body as a plaything. Was it not enough? Was it not enough? SOAMES. Do you understand this, my lord? THE BISHOP. I have that advantage over you, Anthony, thanks to Alice. [He takes Mrs George's hand]. Your hand is very cold. Can you come down to earth? Do you remember who I am, and who you are? MRS GEORGE. It was enough for me. I did not ask to meet you--to touch you--[the Bishop quickly releases her hand]. When you spoke to my soul years ago from your pulpit, you opened the doors of my salvation to me; and now they stand open for ever. It was enough: I have asked you for nothing since: I ask you for nothing now. I have lived: it is enough. I have had my wages; and I am ready for my work. I thank you and bless you and leave you. You are happier in that than I am; for when I do for men what you did for me, I have no thanks, and no blessing: I am their prey; and there is no rest from their loving and no mercy from their loathing. THE BISHOP. You must take us as we are, Mrs Collins. SOAMES. No. Take us as we are capable of becoming. MRS GEORGE. Take me as I am: I ask no more. [She turns her head to the study door and cries] Yes: come in, come in. Hotchkiss comes softly in from the study. HOTCHKISS. Will you be so kind as to tell me whether I am dreaming? In there I have heard Mrs Collins saying the strangest things, and not a syllable from you two. SOAMES. My lord; is this possession by the devil? THE BISHOP. Or the ecstasy of a saint? HOTCHKISS. Or the convulsion of the pythoness on the tripod? THE BISHOP. May not the three be one? MRS GEORGE [troubled] You are paining and tiring me with idle questions. You are dragging me back to myself. You are tormenting me with your evil dreams of saints and devils and--what was it?-- [striving to fathom it] the pythoness--the pythoness--[giving it up] I dont understand. I am a woman: a human creature like yourselves. Will you not take me as I am? SOAMES. Yes; but shall we take you and burn you? THE BISHOP. Or take you and canonize you? HOTCHKISS [gaily] Or take you as a matter of course? [Swiftly to the Bishop] We must get her out of this: it's dangerous. [Aloud to her] May I suggest that you shall be Anthony's devil and the Bishop's saint and my adored Polly? [Slipping behind her, he picks up her hand from her lap and kisses it over her shoulder]. MRS GEORGE [waking] What was that? Who kissed my hand? [To the Bishop, eagerly] Was it you? [He shakes his head. She is mortified]. I beg your pardon. THE BISHOP. Not at all. I'm not repudiating that honor. Allow me [he kisses her hand]. MRS GEORGE. Thank you for that. It was not the sexton, was it? SOAMES. I! HOTCHKISS. It was I, Polly, your ever faithful. MRS GEORGE [turning and seeing him] Let me catch you doing it again: thats all. How do you come there? I sent you away. [With great energy, becoming quite herself again] What the goodness gracious has been happening? HOTCHKISS. As far as I can make out, you have been having a very charming and eloquent sort of fit. MRS GEORGE [delighted] What! My second sight! [To the Bishop] Oh, how I have prayed that it might come to me if ever I met you! And now it has come. How stunning! You may believe every word I said: I cant remember it now; but it was something that was just bursting to be said; and so it laid hold of me and said itself. Thats how it is, you see. Edith and Cecil Sykes come in through the tower. She has her hat on. Leo follows. They have evidently been out together. Sykes, with an unnatural air, half foolish, half rakish, as if he had lost all his self-respect and were determined not to let it prey on his spirits, throws himself into a chair at the end of the table near the hearth and thrusts his hands into his pockets, like Hogarth's Rake, without waiting for Edith to sit down. She sits in the railed chair. Leo takes the chair nearest the tower on the long side of the table, brooding, with closed lips. THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. With Cecil? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding? No reply. Blank silence. SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie. EDITH. Tell them yourself. The General comes in from the garden. THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me with some tobacco? Ive finished mine; and my nerves are still far from settled. THE BISHOP. Wait a moment, Boxer. Cecil has something important to tell us. SYKES. Weve done it. Thats all. HOTCHKISS. Done what, Cecil? SYKES. Well, what do you suppose? EDITH. Got married, of course. THE GENERAL. Married! Who gave you away? SYKES [jerking his head towards the tower] This gentleman did.[Seeing that they do not understand, he looks round and sees that there is no one there]. Oh! I thought he came in with us. Hes gone downstairs, I suppose. The Beadle. THE GENERAL. The Beadle! What the devil did he do that for? SYKES. Oh, I dont know: I didnt make any bargain with him. [To Mrs George] How much ought I to give him, Mrs Collins? MRS GEORGE. Five shillings. [To the Bishop] I want to rest for a moment: there! in your study. I saw it here [she touches her forehead]. THE BISHOP [opening the study door for her] By all means. Turn my brother out if he disturbs you. Soames: bring the letters out here. SYKES. He wont be offended at my offering it, will he? MRS GEORGE. Not he! He touches children with the mace to cure them of ringworm for fourpence apiece. [She goes into the study. Soames follows her]. THE GENERAL. Well, Edith, I'm a little disappointed, I must say. However, I'm glad it was done by somebody in a public uniform. Mrs Bridgenorth and Lesbia come in through the tower. Mrs Bridgenorth makes for the Bishop. He goes to her, and they meet near the oak chest. Lesbia comes between Sykes and Edith. THE BISHOP. Alice, my love, theyre married. MRS BRIDGENORTH [placidly] Oh, well, thats all right. Better tell Collins. Soames comes back from the study with his writing materials. He seats himself at the nearest end of the table and goes on with his work. Hotchkiss sits down in the next chair round the table corner, with his back to him. LESBIA. You have both given in, have you? EDITH. Not at all. We have provided for everything. SOAMES. How? EDITH. Before going to the church, we went to the office of that insurance company--whats its name, Cecil? SYKES. The British Family Insurance Corporation. It insures you against poor relations and all sorts of family contingencies. EDITH. It has consented to insure Cecil against libel actions brought against him on my account. It will give us specially low terms because I am a Bishop's daughter. SYKES. And I have given Edie my solemn word that if I ever commit a crime I'll knock her down before a

place

How many times the word 'place' appears in the text?

First, he talks as if the only thing of any importance in life was which particular woman he shall marry. Second, he has no self-control. THE GENERAL. Women are not all the same to me, Lesbia. MRS GEORGE. Why should they be, pray? Women are all different: it's the men who are all the same. Besides, what does Miss Grantham know about either men or women? She's got too much self- control. LESBIA [widening her eyes and lifting her chin haughtily] And pray how does that prevent me from knowing as much about men and women as people who have no self-control? MRS GEORGE. Because it frightens people into behaving themselves before you; and then how can you tell what they really are? Look at me! I was a spoilt child. My brothers and sisters were well brought up, like all children of respectable publicans. So should I have been if I hadnt been the youngest: ten years younger than my youngest brother. My parents were tired of doing their duty by their children by that time; and they spoilt me for all they were worth. I never knew what it was to want money or anything that money could buy. When I wanted my own way, I had nothing to do but scream for it till I got it. When I was annoyed I didnt control myself: I scratched and called names. Did you ever, after you were grown up, pull a grown-up woman's hair? Did you ever bite a grown-up man? Did you ever call both of them every name you could lay your tongue to? LESBIA [shivering with disgust] No. MRS GEORGE. Well, I did. I know what a woman is like when her hair's pulled. I know what a man is like when he's bit. I know what theyre both like when you tell them what you really feel about them. And thats how I know more of the world than you. LESBIA. The Chinese know what a man is like when he is cut into a thousand pieces, or boiled in oil. That sort of knowledge is of no use to me. I'm afraid we shall never get on with one another, Mrs George. I live like a fencer, always on guard. I like to be confronted with people who are always on guard. I hate sloppy people, slovenly people, people who cant sit up straight, sentimental people. MRS GEORGE. Oh, sentimental your grandmother! You dont learn to hold your own in the world by standing on guard, but by attacking, and getting well hammered yourself. LESBIA. I'm not a prize-fighter, Mrs. Collins. If I cant get a thing without the indignity of fighting for it, I do without it. MRS GEORGE. Do you? Does it strike you that if we were all as clever as you at doing without, there wouldnt be much to live for, would there? TAE GENERAL. I'm afraid, Lesbia, the things you do without are the things you dont want. LESBIA [surprised at his wit] Thats not bad for the silly soldier man. Yes, Boxer: the truth is, I dont want you enough to make the very unreasonable sacrifices required by marriage. And yet that is exactly why I ought to be married. Just because I have the qualities my country wants most I shall go barren to my grave; whilst the women who have neither the strength to resist marriage nor the intelligence to understand its infinite dishonor will make the England of the future. [She rises and walks towards the study]. THE GENERAL [as she is about to pass him] Well, I shall not ask you again, Lesbia. LESBIA. Thank you, Boxer. [She passes on to the study door]. MRS GEORGE. Youre quite done with him, are you? LESBIA. As far as marriage is concerned, yes. The field is clear for you, Mrs George. [She goes into the study]. The General buries his face in his hands. Mrs George comes round the table to him. MRS GEORGE [sympathetically] She's a nice woman, that. And a sort of beauty about her too, different from anyone else. THE GENERAL [overwhelmed] Oh Mrs Collins, thank you, thank you a thousand times. [He rises effusively]. You have thawed the long- frozen springs [he kisses her hand]. Forgive me; and thank you: bless you--[he again takes refuge in the garden, choked with emotion]. MRS GEORGE [looking after him triumphantly] Just caught the dear old warrior on the bounce, eh? HOTCHKISS. Unfaithful to me already! MRS GEORGE. I'm not your property, young man dont you think it. [She goes over to him and faces him]. You understand that? [He suddenly snatches her into his arms and kisses her]. Oh! You. dare do that again, you young blackguard; and I'll jab one of these chairs in your face [she seizes one and holds it in readiness]. Now you shall not see me for another month. HOTCHKISS [deliberately] I shall pay my first visit to your husband this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. Youll see what he'll say to you when I tell him what youve just done. HOTCHKISS. What can he say? What dare he say? MRS GEORGE. Suppose he kicks you out of the house? HOTCHKISS. How can he? Ive fought seven duels with sabres. Ive muscles of iron. Nothing hurts me: not even broken bones. Fighting is absolutely uninteresting to me because it doesnt frighten me or amuse me; and I always win. Your husband is in all these respects an average man, probably. He will be horribly afraid of me; and if under the stimulus of your presence, and for your sake, and because it is the right thing to do among vulgar people, he were to attack me, I should simply defeat him and humiliate him [he gradually gets his hands on the chair and takes it from her, as his words go home phrase by phrase]. Sooner than expose him to that, you would suffer a thousand stolen kisses, wouldnt you? MRS GEORGE [in utter consternation] You young viper! HOTCHKISS. Ha ha! You are in my power. That is one of the oversights of your code of honor for husbands: the man who can bully them can insult their wives with impunity. Tell him if you dare. If I choose to take ten kisses, how will you prevent me? MRS GEORGE. You come within reach of me and I'll not leave a hair on your head. HOTCHKISS [catching her wrists dexterously] Ive got your hands. MRS GEORGE. Youve not got my teeth. Let go; or I'll bite. I will, I tell you. Let go. HOTCHKISS. Bite away: I shall taste quite as nice as George. MRS GEORGE. You beast. Let me go. Do you call yourself a gentleman, to use your brute strength against a woman? HOTCHKISS. You are stronger than me in every way but this. Do you think I will give up my one advantage? Promise youll receive me when I call this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. After what youve just done? Not if it was to save my life. HOTCHKISS. I'll amuse George. MRS GEORGE. He wont be in. HOTCHKISS [taken aback] Do you mean that we should be alone? MRS GEORGE [snatching away her hands triumphantly as his grasp relaxes] Aha! Thats cooled you, has it? HOTCHKISS [anxiously] When will George be at home? MRS GEORGE. It wont matter to you whether he's at home or not. The door will be slammed in your face whenever you call. HOTCHKISS. No servant in London is strong enough to close a door that I mean to keep open. You cant escape me. If you persist, I'll go into the coal trade; make George's acquaintance on the coal exchange; and coax him to take me home with him to make your acquaintance. MRS GEORGE. We have no use for you, young man: neither George nor I [she sails away from him and sits down at the end of the table near the study door]. HOTCHKISS [following her and taking the next chair round the corner of the table] Yes you have. George cant fight for you: I can. MRS GEORGE [turning to face him] You bully. You low bully. HOTCHKISS. You have courage and fascination: I have courage and a pair of fists. We're both bullies, Polly. MRS GEORGE. You have a mischievous tongue. Thats enough to keep you out of my house. HOTCHKISS. It must be rather a house of cards. A word from me to George--just the right word, said in the right way--and down comes your house. MRS GEORGE. Thats why I'll die sooner than let you into it. HOTCHKISS. Then as surely as you live, I enter the coal trade to- morrow. George's taste for amusing company will deliver him into my hands. Before a month passes your home will be at my mercy. MRS GEORGE [rising, at bay] Do you think I'll let myself be driven into a trap like this? HOTCHKISS. You are in it already. Marriage is a trap. You are married. Any man who has the power to spoil your marriage has the power to spoil your life. I have that power over you. MRS GEORGE [desperate] You mean it? HOTCHKISS. I do. MRS GEORGE [resolutely] Well, spoil my marriage and be-- HOTCHKISS [springing up] Polly! MRS GEORGE. Sooner than be your slave I'd face any unhappiness. HOTCHKISS. What! Even for George? MRS GEORGE. There must be honor between me and George, happiness or no happiness. Do your worst. HOTCHKISS [admiring her] Are you really game, Polly? Dare you defy me? MRS GEORGE. If you ask me another question I shant be able to keep my hands off you [she dashes distractedly past him to the other end of the table, her fingers crisping]. HOTCHKISS. That settles it. Polly: I adore you: we were born for one another. As I happen to be a gentleman, I'll never do anything to annoy or injure you except that I reserve the right to give you a black eye if you bite me; but youll never get rid of me now to the end of your life. MRS GEORGE. I shall get rid of you if the beadle has to brain you with the mace for it [she makes for the tower]. HOTCHKISS [running between the table and the oak chest and across to the tower to cut her off] You shant. MRS GEORGE [panting] Shant I though? HOTCHKISS. No you shant. I have one card left to play that youve forgotten. Why were you so unlike yourself when you spoke to the Bishop? MRS GEORGE [agitated beyond measure] Stop. Not that. You shall respect that if you respect nothing else. I forbid you. [He kneels at her feet]. What are you doing? Get up: dont be a fool. HOTCHKISS. Polly: I ask you on my knees to let me make George's acquaintance in his home this afternoon; and I shall remain on my knees till the Bishop comes in and sees us. What will he think of you then? MRS GEORGE [beside herself] Wheres the poker? She rushes to the fireplace; seizes the poker; and makes for Hotchkiss, who flies to the study door. The Bishop enters just then and finds himself between them, narrowly escaping a blow from the poker. THE BISHOP. Dont hit him, Mrs Collins. He is my guest. Mrs George throws down the poker; collapses into the nearest chair; and bursts into tears. The Bishop goes to her and pats her consolingly on the shoulder. She shudders all through at his touch. THE BISHOP. Come! you are in the house of your friends. Can we help you? MRS GEORGE [to Hotchkiss, pointing to the study] Go in there, you. Youre not wanted here. HOTCHKISS. You understand, Bishop, that Mrs Collins is not to blame for this scene. I'm afraid Ive been rather irritating. THE BISHOP. I can quite believe it, Sinjon. Hotchkiss goes into the study. THE BISHOP [turning to Mrs George with great kindness of manner] I'm sorry you have been worried [he sits down on her left]. Never mind him. A little pluck, a little gaiety of heart, a little prayer; and youll be laughing at him. MRS GEORGE. Never fear. I have all that. It was as much my fault as his; and I should have put him in his place with a clip of that poker on the side of his head if you hadnt come in. THE BISHOP. You might have put him in his coffin that way, Mrs Collins. And I should have been very sorry; because we are all fond of Sinjon. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's your duty to rebuke me. But do you think I dont know? THE BISHOP. I dont rebuke you. Who am I that I should rebuke you? Besides, I know there are discussions in which the poker is the only possible argument. MRS GEORGE. My lord: be earnest with me. I'm a very funny woman, I daresay; but I come from the same workshop as you. I heard you say that yourself years ago. THE BISHOP. Quite so; but then I'm a very funny Bishop. Since we are both funny people, let us not forget that humor is a divine attribute. MRS GEORGE. I know nothing about divine attributes or whatever you call them; but I can feel when I am being belittled. It was from you that I learnt first to respect myself. It was through you that I came to be able to walk safely through many wild and wilful paths. Dont go back on your own teaching. THE BISHOP. I'm not a teacher: only a fellow-traveller of whom you asked the way. I pointed ahead--ahead of myself as well as of you. MRS GEORGE [rising and standing over him almost threateningly] As I'm a living woman this day, if I find you out to be a fraud, I'll kill myself. THE BISHOP. What! Kill yourself for finding out something! For becoming a wiser and therefore a better woman! What a bad reason! MRS GEORGE. I have sometimes thought of killing you, and then killing myself. THE BISHOP. Why on earth should you kill yourself--not to mention me? MRS GEORGE. So that we might keep our assignation in Heaven. THE BISHOP [rising and facing her, breathless] Mrs. Collins! YOU are Incognita Appassionata! MRS GEORGE. You read my letters, then? [With a sigh of grateful relief, she sits down quietly, and says] Thank you. THE BISHOP [remorsefully] And I have broken the spell by making you come here [sitting down again]. Can you ever forgive me? MRS GEORGE. You couldnt know that it was only the coal merchant's wife, could you? THE BISHOP. Why do you say only the coal merchant's wife? MRS GEORGE. Many people would laugh at it. THE BISHOP. Poor people! It's so hard to know the right place to laugh, isnt it? MRS GEORGE. I didnt mean to make you think the letters were from a fine lady. I wrote on cheap paper; and I never could spell. THE BISHOP. Neither could I. So that told me nothing. MRS GEORGE. One thing I should like you to know. THE BISHOP. Yes? MRS GEORGE. We didnt cheat your friend. They were as good as we could do at thirteen shillings a ton. THE BISHOP. Thats important. Thank you for telling me. MRS GEORGE. I have something else to say; but will you please ask somebody to come and stay here while we talk? [He rises and turns to the study door]. Not a woman, if you dont mind. [He nods understandingly and passes on]. Not a man either. THE BISHOP [stopping] Not a man and not a woman! We have no children left, Mrs Collins. They are all grown up and married. MRS GEORGE. That other clergyman would do. THE BISHOP. What! The sexton? MRS GEORGE. Yes. He didnt mind my calling him that, did he? It was only my ignorance. THE BISHOP. Not at all. [He opens the study door and calls] Soames! Anthony! [To Mrs George] Call him Father: he likes it. [Soames appears at the study door]. Mrs Collins wishes you to join us, Anthony. Soames looks puzzled. MRS GEORGE. You dont mind, Dad, do you? [As this greeting visibly gives him a shock that hardly bears out the Bishop's advice, she says anxiously] That was what you told me to call him, wasnt it? SOAMES. I am called Father Anthony, Mrs Collins. But it does not matter what you call me. [He comes in, and walks past her to the hearth]. THE BISHOP. Mrs Collins has something to say to me that she wants you to hear. SOAMES. I am listening. THE BISHOP [going back to his seat next her] Now. MRS GEORGE. My lord: you should never have married. SOAMES. This woman is inspired. Listen to her, my lord. THE BISHOP [taken aback by the directness of the attack] I married because I was so much in love with Alice that all the difficulties and doubts and dangers of marriage seemed to me the merest moonshine. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's mean to let poor things in for so much while theyre in that state. Would you marry now that you know better if you were a widower? THE BISHOP. I'm old now. It wouldnt matter. MRS GEORGE. But would you if it did matter? THE BISHOP. I think I should marry again lest anyone should imagine I had found marriage unhappy with Alice. SOAMES [sternly] Are you fonder of your wife than of your salvation? THE BISHOP. Oh, very much. When you meet a man who is very particular about his salvation, look out for a woman who is very particular about her character; and marry them to one another: theyll make a perfect pair. I advise you to fall in love; Anthony. SOAMES [with horror] I!! THE BISHOP. Yes, you! think of what it would do for you. For her sake you would come to care unselfishly and diligently for money instead of being selfishly and lazily indifferent to it. For her sake you would come to care in the same way for preferment. For her sake you would come to care for your health, your appearance, the good opinion of your fellow creatures, and all the really important things that make men work and strive instead of mooning and nursing their salvation. SOAMES. In one word, for the sake of one deadly sin I should come to care for all the others. THE BISHOP. Saint Anthony! Tempt him, Mrs Collins: tempt him. MRS GEORGE [rising and looking strangely before her] Take care, my lord: you still have the power to make me obey your commands. And do you, Mr Sexton, beware of an empty heart. THE BISHOP. Yes. Nature abhors a vacuum, Anthony. I would not dare go about with an empty heart: why, the first girl I met would fly into it by mere atmospheric pressure. Alice keeps them out now. Mrs Collins knows. MRS GEORGE [a faint convulsion passing like a wave over her] I know more than either of you. One of you has not yet exhausted his first love: the other has not yet reached it. But I--I--[she reels and is again convulsed]. THE BISHOP [saving her from falling] Whats the matter? Are you ill, Mrs Collins? [He gets her back into her chair]. Soames: theres a glass of water in the study--quick. [Soames hurries to the study door.] MRS. GEORGE. No. [Soames stops]. Dont call. Dont bring anyone. Cant you hear anything? THE BISHOP. Nothing unusual. [He sits by her, watching her with intense surprise and interest]. MRS GEORGE. No music? SOAMES. No. [He steals to the end of the table and sits on her right, equally interested]. MRS GEORGE. Do you see nothing--not a great light? THE BISHOP. We are still walking in darkness. MRS GEORGE. Put your hand on my forehead: the hand with the ring. [He does so. Her eyes close]. SOAMES [inspired to prophesy] There was a certain woman, the wife of a coal merchant, which had been a great sinner . . . The Bishop, startled, takes his hand away. Mrs George's eyes open vividly as she interrupts Soames. MRS GEORGE. You prophesy falsely, Anthony: never in all my life have I done anything that was not ordained for me. [More quietly] Ive been myself. Ive not been afraid of myself. And at last I have escaped from myself, and am become a voice for them that are afraid to speak, and a cry for the hearts that break in silence. SOAMES [whispering] Is she inspired? THE BISHOP. Marvellous. Hush. MRS GEORGE. I have earned the right to speak. I have dared: I have gone through: I have not fallen withered in the fire: I have come at last out beyond, to the back of Godspeed? THE BISHOP. And what do you see there, at the back of Godspeed? SOAMES [hungrily] Give us your message. MRS GEORGE [with intensely sad reproach] When you loved me I gave you the whole sun and stars to play with. I gave you eternity in a single moment, strength of the mountains in one clasp of your arms, and the volume of all the seas in one impulse of your souls. A moment only; but was it not enough? Were you not paid then for all the rest of your struggle on earth? Must I mend your clothes and sweep your floors as well? Was it not enough? I paid the price without bargaining: I bore the children without flinching: was that a reason for heaping fresh burdens on me? I carried the child in my arms: must I carry the father too? When I opened the gates of paradise, were you blind? was it nothing to you? When all the stars sang in your ears and all the winds swept you into the heart of heaven, were you deaf? were you dull? was I no more to you than a bone to a dog? Was it not enough? We spent eternity together; and you ask me for a little lifetime more. We possessed all the universe together; and you ask me to give you my scanty wages as well. I have given you the greatest of all things; and you ask me to give you little things. I gave you your own soul: you ask me for my body as a plaything. Was it not enough? Was it not enough? SOAMES. Do you understand this, my lord? THE BISHOP. I have that advantage over you, Anthony, thanks to Alice. [He takes Mrs George's hand]. Your hand is very cold. Can you come down to earth? Do you remember who I am, and who you are? MRS GEORGE. It was enough for me. I did not ask to meet you--to touch you--[the Bishop quickly releases her hand]. When you spoke to my soul years ago from your pulpit, you opened the doors of my salvation to me; and now they stand open for ever. It was enough: I have asked you for nothing since: I ask you for nothing now. I have lived: it is enough. I have had my wages; and I am ready for my work. I thank you and bless you and leave you. You are happier in that than I am; for when I do for men what you did for me, I have no thanks, and no blessing: I am their prey; and there is no rest from their loving and no mercy from their loathing. THE BISHOP. You must take us as we are, Mrs Collins. SOAMES. No. Take us as we are capable of becoming. MRS GEORGE. Take me as I am: I ask no more. [She turns her head to the study door and cries] Yes: come in, come in. Hotchkiss comes softly in from the study. HOTCHKISS. Will you be so kind as to tell me whether I am dreaming? In there I have heard Mrs Collins saying the strangest things, and not a syllable from you two. SOAMES. My lord; is this possession by the devil? THE BISHOP. Or the ecstasy of a saint? HOTCHKISS. Or the convulsion of the pythoness on the tripod? THE BISHOP. May not the three be one? MRS GEORGE [troubled] You are paining and tiring me with idle questions. You are dragging me back to myself. You are tormenting me with your evil dreams of saints and devils and--what was it?-- [striving to fathom it] the pythoness--the pythoness--[giving it up] I dont understand. I am a woman: a human creature like yourselves. Will you not take me as I am? SOAMES. Yes; but shall we take you and burn you? THE BISHOP. Or take you and canonize you? HOTCHKISS [gaily] Or take you as a matter of course? [Swiftly to the Bishop] We must get her out of this: it's dangerous. [Aloud to her] May I suggest that you shall be Anthony's devil and the Bishop's saint and my adored Polly? [Slipping behind her, he picks up her hand from her lap and kisses it over her shoulder]. MRS GEORGE [waking] What was that? Who kissed my hand? [To the Bishop, eagerly] Was it you? [He shakes his head. She is mortified]. I beg your pardon. THE BISHOP. Not at all. I'm not repudiating that honor. Allow me [he kisses her hand]. MRS GEORGE. Thank you for that. It was not the sexton, was it? SOAMES. I! HOTCHKISS. It was I, Polly, your ever faithful. MRS GEORGE [turning and seeing him] Let me catch you doing it again: thats all. How do you come there? I sent you away. [With great energy, becoming quite herself again] What the goodness gracious has been happening? HOTCHKISS. As far as I can make out, you have been having a very charming and eloquent sort of fit. MRS GEORGE [delighted] What! My second sight! [To the Bishop] Oh, how I have prayed that it might come to me if ever I met you! And now it has come. How stunning! You may believe every word I said: I cant remember it now; but it was something that was just bursting to be said; and so it laid hold of me and said itself. Thats how it is, you see. Edith and Cecil Sykes come in through the tower. She has her hat on. Leo follows. They have evidently been out together. Sykes, with an unnatural air, half foolish, half rakish, as if he had lost all his self-respect and were determined not to let it prey on his spirits, throws himself into a chair at the end of the table near the hearth and thrusts his hands into his pockets, like Hogarth's Rake, without waiting for Edith to sit down. She sits in the railed chair. Leo takes the chair nearest the tower on the long side of the table, brooding, with closed lips. THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. With Cecil? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding? No reply. Blank silence. SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie. EDITH. Tell them yourself. The General comes in from the garden. THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me with some tobacco? Ive finished mine; and my nerves are still far from settled. THE BISHOP. Wait a moment, Boxer. Cecil has something important to tell us. SYKES. Weve done it. Thats all. HOTCHKISS. Done what, Cecil? SYKES. Well, what do you suppose? EDITH. Got married, of course. THE GENERAL. Married! Who gave you away? SYKES [jerking his head towards the tower] This gentleman did.[Seeing that they do not understand, he looks round and sees that there is no one there]. Oh! I thought he came in with us. Hes gone downstairs, I suppose. The Beadle. THE GENERAL. The Beadle! What the devil did he do that for? SYKES. Oh, I dont know: I didnt make any bargain with him. [To Mrs George] How much ought I to give him, Mrs Collins? MRS GEORGE. Five shillings. [To the Bishop] I want to rest for a moment: there! in your study. I saw it here [she touches her forehead]. THE BISHOP [opening the study door for her] By all means. Turn my brother out if he disturbs you. Soames: bring the letters out here. SYKES. He wont be offended at my offering it, will he? MRS GEORGE. Not he! He touches children with the mace to cure them of ringworm for fourpence apiece. [She goes into the study. Soames follows her]. THE GENERAL. Well, Edith, I'm a little disappointed, I must say. However, I'm glad it was done by somebody in a public uniform. Mrs Bridgenorth and Lesbia come in through the tower. Mrs Bridgenorth makes for the Bishop. He goes to her, and they meet near the oak chest. Lesbia comes between Sykes and Edith. THE BISHOP. Alice, my love, theyre married. MRS BRIDGENORTH [placidly] Oh, well, thats all right. Better tell Collins. Soames comes back from the study with his writing materials. He seats himself at the nearest end of the table and goes on with his work. Hotchkiss sits down in the next chair round the table corner, with his back to him. LESBIA. You have both given in, have you? EDITH. Not at all. We have provided for everything. SOAMES. How? EDITH. Before going to the church, we went to the office of that insurance company--whats its name, Cecil? SYKES. The British Family Insurance Corporation. It insures you against poor relations and all sorts of family contingencies. EDITH. It has consented to insure Cecil against libel actions brought against him on my account. It will give us specially low terms because I am a Bishop's daughter. SYKES. And I have given Edie my solemn word that if I ever commit a crime I'll knock her down before a

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How many times the word 'written' appears in the text?

First, he talks as if the only thing of any importance in life was which particular woman he shall marry. Second, he has no self-control. THE GENERAL. Women are not all the same to me, Lesbia. MRS GEORGE. Why should they be, pray? Women are all different: it's the men who are all the same. Besides, what does Miss Grantham know about either men or women? She's got too much self- control. LESBIA [widening her eyes and lifting her chin haughtily] And pray how does that prevent me from knowing as much about men and women as people who have no self-control? MRS GEORGE. Because it frightens people into behaving themselves before you; and then how can you tell what they really are? Look at me! I was a spoilt child. My brothers and sisters were well brought up, like all children of respectable publicans. So should I have been if I hadnt been the youngest: ten years younger than my youngest brother. My parents were tired of doing their duty by their children by that time; and they spoilt me for all they were worth. I never knew what it was to want money or anything that money could buy. When I wanted my own way, I had nothing to do but scream for it till I got it. When I was annoyed I didnt control myself: I scratched and called names. Did you ever, after you were grown up, pull a grown-up woman's hair? Did you ever bite a grown-up man? Did you ever call both of them every name you could lay your tongue to? LESBIA [shivering with disgust] No. MRS GEORGE. Well, I did. I know what a woman is like when her hair's pulled. I know what a man is like when he's bit. I know what theyre both like when you tell them what you really feel about them. And thats how I know more of the world than you. LESBIA. The Chinese know what a man is like when he is cut into a thousand pieces, or boiled in oil. That sort of knowledge is of no use to me. I'm afraid we shall never get on with one another, Mrs George. I live like a fencer, always on guard. I like to be confronted with people who are always on guard. I hate sloppy people, slovenly people, people who cant sit up straight, sentimental people. MRS GEORGE. Oh, sentimental your grandmother! You dont learn to hold your own in the world by standing on guard, but by attacking, and getting well hammered yourself. LESBIA. I'm not a prize-fighter, Mrs. Collins. If I cant get a thing without the indignity of fighting for it, I do without it. MRS GEORGE. Do you? Does it strike you that if we were all as clever as you at doing without, there wouldnt be much to live for, would there? TAE GENERAL. I'm afraid, Lesbia, the things you do without are the things you dont want. LESBIA [surprised at his wit] Thats not bad for the silly soldier man. Yes, Boxer: the truth is, I dont want you enough to make the very unreasonable sacrifices required by marriage. And yet that is exactly why I ought to be married. Just because I have the qualities my country wants most I shall go barren to my grave; whilst the women who have neither the strength to resist marriage nor the intelligence to understand its infinite dishonor will make the England of the future. [She rises and walks towards the study]. THE GENERAL [as she is about to pass him] Well, I shall not ask you again, Lesbia. LESBIA. Thank you, Boxer. [She passes on to the study door]. MRS GEORGE. Youre quite done with him, are you? LESBIA. As far as marriage is concerned, yes. The field is clear for you, Mrs George. [She goes into the study]. The General buries his face in his hands. Mrs George comes round the table to him. MRS GEORGE [sympathetically] She's a nice woman, that. And a sort of beauty about her too, different from anyone else. THE GENERAL [overwhelmed] Oh Mrs Collins, thank you, thank you a thousand times. [He rises effusively]. You have thawed the long- frozen springs [he kisses her hand]. Forgive me; and thank you: bless you--[he again takes refuge in the garden, choked with emotion]. MRS GEORGE [looking after him triumphantly] Just caught the dear old warrior on the bounce, eh? HOTCHKISS. Unfaithful to me already! MRS GEORGE. I'm not your property, young man dont you think it. [She goes over to him and faces him]. You understand that? [He suddenly snatches her into his arms and kisses her]. Oh! You. dare do that again, you young blackguard; and I'll jab one of these chairs in your face [she seizes one and holds it in readiness]. Now you shall not see me for another month. HOTCHKISS [deliberately] I shall pay my first visit to your husband this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. Youll see what he'll say to you when I tell him what youve just done. HOTCHKISS. What can he say? What dare he say? MRS GEORGE. Suppose he kicks you out of the house? HOTCHKISS. How can he? Ive fought seven duels with sabres. Ive muscles of iron. Nothing hurts me: not even broken bones. Fighting is absolutely uninteresting to me because it doesnt frighten me or amuse me; and I always win. Your husband is in all these respects an average man, probably. He will be horribly afraid of me; and if under the stimulus of your presence, and for your sake, and because it is the right thing to do among vulgar people, he were to attack me, I should simply defeat him and humiliate him [he gradually gets his hands on the chair and takes it from her, as his words go home phrase by phrase]. Sooner than expose him to that, you would suffer a thousand stolen kisses, wouldnt you? MRS GEORGE [in utter consternation] You young viper! HOTCHKISS. Ha ha! You are in my power. That is one of the oversights of your code of honor for husbands: the man who can bully them can insult their wives with impunity. Tell him if you dare. If I choose to take ten kisses, how will you prevent me? MRS GEORGE. You come within reach of me and I'll not leave a hair on your head. HOTCHKISS [catching her wrists dexterously] Ive got your hands. MRS GEORGE. Youve not got my teeth. Let go; or I'll bite. I will, I tell you. Let go. HOTCHKISS. Bite away: I shall taste quite as nice as George. MRS GEORGE. You beast. Let me go. Do you call yourself a gentleman, to use your brute strength against a woman? HOTCHKISS. You are stronger than me in every way but this. Do you think I will give up my one advantage? Promise youll receive me when I call this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. After what youve just done? Not if it was to save my life. HOTCHKISS. I'll amuse George. MRS GEORGE. He wont be in. HOTCHKISS [taken aback] Do you mean that we should be alone? MRS GEORGE [snatching away her hands triumphantly as his grasp relaxes] Aha! Thats cooled you, has it? HOTCHKISS [anxiously] When will George be at home? MRS GEORGE. It wont matter to you whether he's at home or not. The door will be slammed in your face whenever you call. HOTCHKISS. No servant in London is strong enough to close a door that I mean to keep open. You cant escape me. If you persist, I'll go into the coal trade; make George's acquaintance on the coal exchange; and coax him to take me home with him to make your acquaintance. MRS GEORGE. We have no use for you, young man: neither George nor I [she sails away from him and sits down at the end of the table near the study door]. HOTCHKISS [following her and taking the next chair round the corner of the table] Yes you have. George cant fight for you: I can. MRS GEORGE [turning to face him] You bully. You low bully. HOTCHKISS. You have courage and fascination: I have courage and a pair of fists. We're both bullies, Polly. MRS GEORGE. You have a mischievous tongue. Thats enough to keep you out of my house. HOTCHKISS. It must be rather a house of cards. A word from me to George--just the right word, said in the right way--and down comes your house. MRS GEORGE. Thats why I'll die sooner than let you into it. HOTCHKISS. Then as surely as you live, I enter the coal trade to- morrow. George's taste for amusing company will deliver him into my hands. Before a month passes your home will be at my mercy. MRS GEORGE [rising, at bay] Do you think I'll let myself be driven into a trap like this? HOTCHKISS. You are in it already. Marriage is a trap. You are married. Any man who has the power to spoil your marriage has the power to spoil your life. I have that power over you. MRS GEORGE [desperate] You mean it? HOTCHKISS. I do. MRS GEORGE [resolutely] Well, spoil my marriage and be-- HOTCHKISS [springing up] Polly! MRS GEORGE. Sooner than be your slave I'd face any unhappiness. HOTCHKISS. What! Even for George? MRS GEORGE. There must be honor between me and George, happiness or no happiness. Do your worst. HOTCHKISS [admiring her] Are you really game, Polly? Dare you defy me? MRS GEORGE. If you ask me another question I shant be able to keep my hands off you [she dashes distractedly past him to the other end of the table, her fingers crisping]. HOTCHKISS. That settles it. Polly: I adore you: we were born for one another. As I happen to be a gentleman, I'll never do anything to annoy or injure you except that I reserve the right to give you a black eye if you bite me; but youll never get rid of me now to the end of your life. MRS GEORGE. I shall get rid of you if the beadle has to brain you with the mace for it [she makes for the tower]. HOTCHKISS [running between the table and the oak chest and across to the tower to cut her off] You shant. MRS GEORGE [panting] Shant I though? HOTCHKISS. No you shant. I have one card left to play that youve forgotten. Why were you so unlike yourself when you spoke to the Bishop? MRS GEORGE [agitated beyond measure] Stop. Not that. You shall respect that if you respect nothing else. I forbid you. [He kneels at her feet]. What are you doing? Get up: dont be a fool. HOTCHKISS. Polly: I ask you on my knees to let me make George's acquaintance in his home this afternoon; and I shall remain on my knees till the Bishop comes in and sees us. What will he think of you then? MRS GEORGE [beside herself] Wheres the poker? She rushes to the fireplace; seizes the poker; and makes for Hotchkiss, who flies to the study door. The Bishop enters just then and finds himself between them, narrowly escaping a blow from the poker. THE BISHOP. Dont hit him, Mrs Collins. He is my guest. Mrs George throws down the poker; collapses into the nearest chair; and bursts into tears. The Bishop goes to her and pats her consolingly on the shoulder. She shudders all through at his touch. THE BISHOP. Come! you are in the house of your friends. Can we help you? MRS GEORGE [to Hotchkiss, pointing to the study] Go in there, you. Youre not wanted here. HOTCHKISS. You understand, Bishop, that Mrs Collins is not to blame for this scene. I'm afraid Ive been rather irritating. THE BISHOP. I can quite believe it, Sinjon. Hotchkiss goes into the study. THE BISHOP [turning to Mrs George with great kindness of manner] I'm sorry you have been worried [he sits down on her left]. Never mind him. A little pluck, a little gaiety of heart, a little prayer; and youll be laughing at him. MRS GEORGE. Never fear. I have all that. It was as much my fault as his; and I should have put him in his place with a clip of that poker on the side of his head if you hadnt come in. THE BISHOP. You might have put him in his coffin that way, Mrs Collins. And I should have been very sorry; because we are all fond of Sinjon. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's your duty to rebuke me. But do you think I dont know? THE BISHOP. I dont rebuke you. Who am I that I should rebuke you? Besides, I know there are discussions in which the poker is the only possible argument. MRS GEORGE. My lord: be earnest with me. I'm a very funny woman, I daresay; but I come from the same workshop as you. I heard you say that yourself years ago. THE BISHOP. Quite so; but then I'm a very funny Bishop. Since we are both funny people, let us not forget that humor is a divine attribute. MRS GEORGE. I know nothing about divine attributes or whatever you call them; but I can feel when I am being belittled. It was from you that I learnt first to respect myself. It was through you that I came to be able to walk safely through many wild and wilful paths. Dont go back on your own teaching. THE BISHOP. I'm not a teacher: only a fellow-traveller of whom you asked the way. I pointed ahead--ahead of myself as well as of you. MRS GEORGE [rising and standing over him almost threateningly] As I'm a living woman this day, if I find you out to be a fraud, I'll kill myself. THE BISHOP. What! Kill yourself for finding out something! For becoming a wiser and therefore a better woman! What a bad reason! MRS GEORGE. I have sometimes thought of killing you, and then killing myself. THE BISHOP. Why on earth should you kill yourself--not to mention me? MRS GEORGE. So that we might keep our assignation in Heaven. THE BISHOP [rising and facing her, breathless] Mrs. Collins! YOU are Incognita Appassionata! MRS GEORGE. You read my letters, then? [With a sigh of grateful relief, she sits down quietly, and says] Thank you. THE BISHOP [remorsefully] And I have broken the spell by making you come here [sitting down again]. Can you ever forgive me? MRS GEORGE. You couldnt know that it was only the coal merchant's wife, could you? THE BISHOP. Why do you say only the coal merchant's wife? MRS GEORGE. Many people would laugh at it. THE BISHOP. Poor people! It's so hard to know the right place to laugh, isnt it? MRS GEORGE. I didnt mean to make you think the letters were from a fine lady. I wrote on cheap paper; and I never could spell. THE BISHOP. Neither could I. So that told me nothing. MRS GEORGE. One thing I should like you to know. THE BISHOP. Yes? MRS GEORGE. We didnt cheat your friend. They were as good as we could do at thirteen shillings a ton. THE BISHOP. Thats important. Thank you for telling me. MRS GEORGE. I have something else to say; but will you please ask somebody to come and stay here while we talk? [He rises and turns to the study door]. Not a woman, if you dont mind. [He nods understandingly and passes on]. Not a man either. THE BISHOP [stopping] Not a man and not a woman! We have no children left, Mrs Collins. They are all grown up and married. MRS GEORGE. That other clergyman would do. THE BISHOP. What! The sexton? MRS GEORGE. Yes. He didnt mind my calling him that, did he? It was only my ignorance. THE BISHOP. Not at all. [He opens the study door and calls] Soames! Anthony! [To Mrs George] Call him Father: he likes it. [Soames appears at the study door]. Mrs Collins wishes you to join us, Anthony. Soames looks puzzled. MRS GEORGE. You dont mind, Dad, do you? [As this greeting visibly gives him a shock that hardly bears out the Bishop's advice, she says anxiously] That was what you told me to call him, wasnt it? SOAMES. I am called Father Anthony, Mrs Collins. But it does not matter what you call me. [He comes in, and walks past her to the hearth]. THE BISHOP. Mrs Collins has something to say to me that she wants you to hear. SOAMES. I am listening. THE BISHOP [going back to his seat next her] Now. MRS GEORGE. My lord: you should never have married. SOAMES. This woman is inspired. Listen to her, my lord. THE BISHOP [taken aback by the directness of the attack] I married because I was so much in love with Alice that all the difficulties and doubts and dangers of marriage seemed to me the merest moonshine. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's mean to let poor things in for so much while theyre in that state. Would you marry now that you know better if you were a widower? THE BISHOP. I'm old now. It wouldnt matter. MRS GEORGE. But would you if it did matter? THE BISHOP. I think I should marry again lest anyone should imagine I had found marriage unhappy with Alice. SOAMES [sternly] Are you fonder of your wife than of your salvation? THE BISHOP. Oh, very much. When you meet a man who is very particular about his salvation, look out for a woman who is very particular about her character; and marry them to one another: theyll make a perfect pair. I advise you to fall in love; Anthony. SOAMES [with horror] I!! THE BISHOP. Yes, you! think of what it would do for you. For her sake you would come to care unselfishly and diligently for money instead of being selfishly and lazily indifferent to it. For her sake you would come to care in the same way for preferment. For her sake you would come to care for your health, your appearance, the good opinion of your fellow creatures, and all the really important things that make men work and strive instead of mooning and nursing their salvation. SOAMES. In one word, for the sake of one deadly sin I should come to care for all the others. THE BISHOP. Saint Anthony! Tempt him, Mrs Collins: tempt him. MRS GEORGE [rising and looking strangely before her] Take care, my lord: you still have the power to make me obey your commands. And do you, Mr Sexton, beware of an empty heart. THE BISHOP. Yes. Nature abhors a vacuum, Anthony. I would not dare go about with an empty heart: why, the first girl I met would fly into it by mere atmospheric pressure. Alice keeps them out now. Mrs Collins knows. MRS GEORGE [a faint convulsion passing like a wave over her] I know more than either of you. One of you has not yet exhausted his first love: the other has not yet reached it. But I--I--[she reels and is again convulsed]. THE BISHOP [saving her from falling] Whats the matter? Are you ill, Mrs Collins? [He gets her back into her chair]. Soames: theres a glass of water in the study--quick. [Soames hurries to the study door.] MRS. GEORGE. No. [Soames stops]. Dont call. Dont bring anyone. Cant you hear anything? THE BISHOP. Nothing unusual. [He sits by her, watching her with intense surprise and interest]. MRS GEORGE. No music? SOAMES. No. [He steals to the end of the table and sits on her right, equally interested]. MRS GEORGE. Do you see nothing--not a great light? THE BISHOP. We are still walking in darkness. MRS GEORGE. Put your hand on my forehead: the hand with the ring. [He does so. Her eyes close]. SOAMES [inspired to prophesy] There was a certain woman, the wife of a coal merchant, which had been a great sinner . . . The Bishop, startled, takes his hand away. Mrs George's eyes open vividly as she interrupts Soames. MRS GEORGE. You prophesy falsely, Anthony: never in all my life have I done anything that was not ordained for me. [More quietly] Ive been myself. Ive not been afraid of myself. And at last I have escaped from myself, and am become a voice for them that are afraid to speak, and a cry for the hearts that break in silence. SOAMES [whispering] Is she inspired? THE BISHOP. Marvellous. Hush. MRS GEORGE. I have earned the right to speak. I have dared: I have gone through: I have not fallen withered in the fire: I have come at last out beyond, to the back of Godspeed? THE BISHOP. And what do you see there, at the back of Godspeed? SOAMES [hungrily] Give us your message. MRS GEORGE [with intensely sad reproach] When you loved me I gave you the whole sun and stars to play with. I gave you eternity in a single moment, strength of the mountains in one clasp of your arms, and the volume of all the seas in one impulse of your souls. A moment only; but was it not enough? Were you not paid then for all the rest of your struggle on earth? Must I mend your clothes and sweep your floors as well? Was it not enough? I paid the price without bargaining: I bore the children without flinching: was that a reason for heaping fresh burdens on me? I carried the child in my arms: must I carry the father too? When I opened the gates of paradise, were you blind? was it nothing to you? When all the stars sang in your ears and all the winds swept you into the heart of heaven, were you deaf? were you dull? was I no more to you than a bone to a dog? Was it not enough? We spent eternity together; and you ask me for a little lifetime more. We possessed all the universe together; and you ask me to give you my scanty wages as well. I have given you the greatest of all things; and you ask me to give you little things. I gave you your own soul: you ask me for my body as a plaything. Was it not enough? Was it not enough? SOAMES. Do you understand this, my lord? THE BISHOP. I have that advantage over you, Anthony, thanks to Alice. [He takes Mrs George's hand]. Your hand is very cold. Can you come down to earth? Do you remember who I am, and who you are? MRS GEORGE. It was enough for me. I did not ask to meet you--to touch you--[the Bishop quickly releases her hand]. When you spoke to my soul years ago from your pulpit, you opened the doors of my salvation to me; and now they stand open for ever. It was enough: I have asked you for nothing since: I ask you for nothing now. I have lived: it is enough. I have had my wages; and I am ready for my work. I thank you and bless you and leave you. You are happier in that than I am; for when I do for men what you did for me, I have no thanks, and no blessing: I am their prey; and there is no rest from their loving and no mercy from their loathing. THE BISHOP. You must take us as we are, Mrs Collins. SOAMES. No. Take us as we are capable of becoming. MRS GEORGE. Take me as I am: I ask no more. [She turns her head to the study door and cries] Yes: come in, come in. Hotchkiss comes softly in from the study. HOTCHKISS. Will you be so kind as to tell me whether I am dreaming? In there I have heard Mrs Collins saying the strangest things, and not a syllable from you two. SOAMES. My lord; is this possession by the devil? THE BISHOP. Or the ecstasy of a saint? HOTCHKISS. Or the convulsion of the pythoness on the tripod? THE BISHOP. May not the three be one? MRS GEORGE [troubled] You are paining and tiring me with idle questions. You are dragging me back to myself. You are tormenting me with your evil dreams of saints and devils and--what was it?-- [striving to fathom it] the pythoness--the pythoness--[giving it up] I dont understand. I am a woman: a human creature like yourselves. Will you not take me as I am? SOAMES. Yes; but shall we take you and burn you? THE BISHOP. Or take you and canonize you? HOTCHKISS [gaily] Or take you as a matter of course? [Swiftly to the Bishop] We must get her out of this: it's dangerous. [Aloud to her] May I suggest that you shall be Anthony's devil and the Bishop's saint and my adored Polly? [Slipping behind her, he picks up her hand from her lap and kisses it over her shoulder]. MRS GEORGE [waking] What was that? Who kissed my hand? [To the Bishop, eagerly] Was it you? [He shakes his head. She is mortified]. I beg your pardon. THE BISHOP. Not at all. I'm not repudiating that honor. Allow me [he kisses her hand]. MRS GEORGE. Thank you for that. It was not the sexton, was it? SOAMES. I! HOTCHKISS. It was I, Polly, your ever faithful. MRS GEORGE [turning and seeing him] Let me catch you doing it again: thats all. How do you come there? I sent you away. [With great energy, becoming quite herself again] What the goodness gracious has been happening? HOTCHKISS. As far as I can make out, you have been having a very charming and eloquent sort of fit. MRS GEORGE [delighted] What! My second sight! [To the Bishop] Oh, how I have prayed that it might come to me if ever I met you! And now it has come. How stunning! You may believe every word I said: I cant remember it now; but it was something that was just bursting to be said; and so it laid hold of me and said itself. Thats how it is, you see. Edith and Cecil Sykes come in through the tower. She has her hat on. Leo follows. They have evidently been out together. Sykes, with an unnatural air, half foolish, half rakish, as if he had lost all his self-respect and were determined not to let it prey on his spirits, throws himself into a chair at the end of the table near the hearth and thrusts his hands into his pockets, like Hogarth's Rake, without waiting for Edith to sit down. She sits in the railed chair. Leo takes the chair nearest the tower on the long side of the table, brooding, with closed lips. THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. With Cecil? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding? No reply. Blank silence. SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie. EDITH. Tell them yourself. The General comes in from the garden. THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me with some tobacco? Ive finished mine; and my nerves are still far from settled. THE BISHOP. Wait a moment, Boxer. Cecil has something important to tell us. SYKES. Weve done it. Thats all. HOTCHKISS. Done what, Cecil? SYKES. Well, what do you suppose? EDITH. Got married, of course. THE GENERAL. Married! Who gave you away? SYKES [jerking his head towards the tower] This gentleman did.[Seeing that they do not understand, he looks round and sees that there is no one there]. Oh! I thought he came in with us. Hes gone downstairs, I suppose. The Beadle. THE GENERAL. The Beadle! What the devil did he do that for? SYKES. Oh, I dont know: I didnt make any bargain with him. [To Mrs George] How much ought I to give him, Mrs Collins? MRS GEORGE. Five shillings. [To the Bishop] I want to rest for a moment: there! in your study. I saw it here [she touches her forehead]. THE BISHOP [opening the study door for her] By all means. Turn my brother out if he disturbs you. Soames: bring the letters out here. SYKES. He wont be offended at my offering it, will he? MRS GEORGE. Not he! He touches children with the mace to cure them of ringworm for fourpence apiece. [She goes into the study. Soames follows her]. THE GENERAL. Well, Edith, I'm a little disappointed, I must say. However, I'm glad it was done by somebody in a public uniform. Mrs Bridgenorth and Lesbia come in through the tower. Mrs Bridgenorth makes for the Bishop. He goes to her, and they meet near the oak chest. Lesbia comes between Sykes and Edith. THE BISHOP. Alice, my love, theyre married. MRS BRIDGENORTH [placidly] Oh, well, thats all right. Better tell Collins. Soames comes back from the study with his writing materials. He seats himself at the nearest end of the table and goes on with his work. Hotchkiss sits down in the next chair round the table corner, with his back to him. LESBIA. You have both given in, have you? EDITH. Not at all. We have provided for everything. SOAMES. How? EDITH. Before going to the church, we went to the office of that insurance company--whats its name, Cecil? SYKES. The British Family Insurance Corporation. It insures you against poor relations and all sorts of family contingencies. EDITH. It has consented to insure Cecil against libel actions brought against him on my account. It will give us specially low terms because I am a Bishop's daughter. SYKES. And I have given Edie my solemn word that if I ever commit a crime I'll knock her down before a

nice

How many times the word 'nice' appears in the text?

First, he talks as if the only thing of any importance in life was which particular woman he shall marry. Second, he has no self-control. THE GENERAL. Women are not all the same to me, Lesbia. MRS GEORGE. Why should they be, pray? Women are all different: it's the men who are all the same. Besides, what does Miss Grantham know about either men or women? She's got too much self- control. LESBIA [widening her eyes and lifting her chin haughtily] And pray how does that prevent me from knowing as much about men and women as people who have no self-control? MRS GEORGE. Because it frightens people into behaving themselves before you; and then how can you tell what they really are? Look at me! I was a spoilt child. My brothers and sisters were well brought up, like all children of respectable publicans. So should I have been if I hadnt been the youngest: ten years younger than my youngest brother. My parents were tired of doing their duty by their children by that time; and they spoilt me for all they were worth. I never knew what it was to want money or anything that money could buy. When I wanted my own way, I had nothing to do but scream for it till I got it. When I was annoyed I didnt control myself: I scratched and called names. Did you ever, after you were grown up, pull a grown-up woman's hair? Did you ever bite a grown-up man? Did you ever call both of them every name you could lay your tongue to? LESBIA [shivering with disgust] No. MRS GEORGE. Well, I did. I know what a woman is like when her hair's pulled. I know what a man is like when he's bit. I know what theyre both like when you tell them what you really feel about them. And thats how I know more of the world than you. LESBIA. The Chinese know what a man is like when he is cut into a thousand pieces, or boiled in oil. That sort of knowledge is of no use to me. I'm afraid we shall never get on with one another, Mrs George. I live like a fencer, always on guard. I like to be confronted with people who are always on guard. I hate sloppy people, slovenly people, people who cant sit up straight, sentimental people. MRS GEORGE. Oh, sentimental your grandmother! You dont learn to hold your own in the world by standing on guard, but by attacking, and getting well hammered yourself. LESBIA. I'm not a prize-fighter, Mrs. Collins. If I cant get a thing without the indignity of fighting for it, I do without it. MRS GEORGE. Do you? Does it strike you that if we were all as clever as you at doing without, there wouldnt be much to live for, would there? TAE GENERAL. I'm afraid, Lesbia, the things you do without are the things you dont want. LESBIA [surprised at his wit] Thats not bad for the silly soldier man. Yes, Boxer: the truth is, I dont want you enough to make the very unreasonable sacrifices required by marriage. And yet that is exactly why I ought to be married. Just because I have the qualities my country wants most I shall go barren to my grave; whilst the women who have neither the strength to resist marriage nor the intelligence to understand its infinite dishonor will make the England of the future. [She rises and walks towards the study]. THE GENERAL [as she is about to pass him] Well, I shall not ask you again, Lesbia. LESBIA. Thank you, Boxer. [She passes on to the study door]. MRS GEORGE. Youre quite done with him, are you? LESBIA. As far as marriage is concerned, yes. The field is clear for you, Mrs George. [She goes into the study]. The General buries his face in his hands. Mrs George comes round the table to him. MRS GEORGE [sympathetically] She's a nice woman, that. And a sort of beauty about her too, different from anyone else. THE GENERAL [overwhelmed] Oh Mrs Collins, thank you, thank you a thousand times. [He rises effusively]. You have thawed the long- frozen springs [he kisses her hand]. Forgive me; and thank you: bless you--[he again takes refuge in the garden, choked with emotion]. MRS GEORGE [looking after him triumphantly] Just caught the dear old warrior on the bounce, eh? HOTCHKISS. Unfaithful to me already! MRS GEORGE. I'm not your property, young man dont you think it. [She goes over to him and faces him]. You understand that? [He suddenly snatches her into his arms and kisses her]. Oh! You. dare do that again, you young blackguard; and I'll jab one of these chairs in your face [she seizes one and holds it in readiness]. Now you shall not see me for another month. HOTCHKISS [deliberately] I shall pay my first visit to your husband this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. Youll see what he'll say to you when I tell him what youve just done. HOTCHKISS. What can he say? What dare he say? MRS GEORGE. Suppose he kicks you out of the house? HOTCHKISS. How can he? Ive fought seven duels with sabres. Ive muscles of iron. Nothing hurts me: not even broken bones. Fighting is absolutely uninteresting to me because it doesnt frighten me or amuse me; and I always win. Your husband is in all these respects an average man, probably. He will be horribly afraid of me; and if under the stimulus of your presence, and for your sake, and because it is the right thing to do among vulgar people, he were to attack me, I should simply defeat him and humiliate him [he gradually gets his hands on the chair and takes it from her, as his words go home phrase by phrase]. Sooner than expose him to that, you would suffer a thousand stolen kisses, wouldnt you? MRS GEORGE [in utter consternation] You young viper! HOTCHKISS. Ha ha! You are in my power. That is one of the oversights of your code of honor for husbands: the man who can bully them can insult their wives with impunity. Tell him if you dare. If I choose to take ten kisses, how will you prevent me? MRS GEORGE. You come within reach of me and I'll not leave a hair on your head. HOTCHKISS [catching her wrists dexterously] Ive got your hands. MRS GEORGE. Youve not got my teeth. Let go; or I'll bite. I will, I tell you. Let go. HOTCHKISS. Bite away: I shall taste quite as nice as George. MRS GEORGE. You beast. Let me go. Do you call yourself a gentleman, to use your brute strength against a woman? HOTCHKISS. You are stronger than me in every way but this. Do you think I will give up my one advantage? Promise youll receive me when I call this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. After what youve just done? Not if it was to save my life. HOTCHKISS. I'll amuse George. MRS GEORGE. He wont be in. HOTCHKISS [taken aback] Do you mean that we should be alone? MRS GEORGE [snatching away her hands triumphantly as his grasp relaxes] Aha! Thats cooled you, has it? HOTCHKISS [anxiously] When will George be at home? MRS GEORGE. It wont matter to you whether he's at home or not. The door will be slammed in your face whenever you call. HOTCHKISS. No servant in London is strong enough to close a door that I mean to keep open. You cant escape me. If you persist, I'll go into the coal trade; make George's acquaintance on the coal exchange; and coax him to take me home with him to make your acquaintance. MRS GEORGE. We have no use for you, young man: neither George nor I [she sails away from him and sits down at the end of the table near the study door]. HOTCHKISS [following her and taking the next chair round the corner of the table] Yes you have. George cant fight for you: I can. MRS GEORGE [turning to face him] You bully. You low bully. HOTCHKISS. You have courage and fascination: I have courage and a pair of fists. We're both bullies, Polly. MRS GEORGE. You have a mischievous tongue. Thats enough to keep you out of my house. HOTCHKISS. It must be rather a house of cards. A word from me to George--just the right word, said in the right way--and down comes your house. MRS GEORGE. Thats why I'll die sooner than let you into it. HOTCHKISS. Then as surely as you live, I enter the coal trade to- morrow. George's taste for amusing company will deliver him into my hands. Before a month passes your home will be at my mercy. MRS GEORGE [rising, at bay] Do you think I'll let myself be driven into a trap like this? HOTCHKISS. You are in it already. Marriage is a trap. You are married. Any man who has the power to spoil your marriage has the power to spoil your life. I have that power over you. MRS GEORGE [desperate] You mean it? HOTCHKISS. I do. MRS GEORGE [resolutely] Well, spoil my marriage and be-- HOTCHKISS [springing up] Polly! MRS GEORGE. Sooner than be your slave I'd face any unhappiness. HOTCHKISS. What! Even for George? MRS GEORGE. There must be honor between me and George, happiness or no happiness. Do your worst. HOTCHKISS [admiring her] Are you really game, Polly? Dare you defy me? MRS GEORGE. If you ask me another question I shant be able to keep my hands off you [she dashes distractedly past him to the other end of the table, her fingers crisping]. HOTCHKISS. That settles it. Polly: I adore you: we were born for one another. As I happen to be a gentleman, I'll never do anything to annoy or injure you except that I reserve the right to give you a black eye if you bite me; but youll never get rid of me now to the end of your life. MRS GEORGE. I shall get rid of you if the beadle has to brain you with the mace for it [she makes for the tower]. HOTCHKISS [running between the table and the oak chest and across to the tower to cut her off] You shant. MRS GEORGE [panting] Shant I though? HOTCHKISS. No you shant. I have one card left to play that youve forgotten. Why were you so unlike yourself when you spoke to the Bishop? MRS GEORGE [agitated beyond measure] Stop. Not that. You shall respect that if you respect nothing else. I forbid you. [He kneels at her feet]. What are you doing? Get up: dont be a fool. HOTCHKISS. Polly: I ask you on my knees to let me make George's acquaintance in his home this afternoon; and I shall remain on my knees till the Bishop comes in and sees us. What will he think of you then? MRS GEORGE [beside herself] Wheres the poker? She rushes to the fireplace; seizes the poker; and makes for Hotchkiss, who flies to the study door. The Bishop enters just then and finds himself between them, narrowly escaping a blow from the poker. THE BISHOP. Dont hit him, Mrs Collins. He is my guest. Mrs George throws down the poker; collapses into the nearest chair; and bursts into tears. The Bishop goes to her and pats her consolingly on the shoulder. She shudders all through at his touch. THE BISHOP. Come! you are in the house of your friends. Can we help you? MRS GEORGE [to Hotchkiss, pointing to the study] Go in there, you. Youre not wanted here. HOTCHKISS. You understand, Bishop, that Mrs Collins is not to blame for this scene. I'm afraid Ive been rather irritating. THE BISHOP. I can quite believe it, Sinjon. Hotchkiss goes into the study. THE BISHOP [turning to Mrs George with great kindness of manner] I'm sorry you have been worried [he sits down on her left]. Never mind him. A little pluck, a little gaiety of heart, a little prayer; and youll be laughing at him. MRS GEORGE. Never fear. I have all that. It was as much my fault as his; and I should have put him in his place with a clip of that poker on the side of his head if you hadnt come in. THE BISHOP. You might have put him in his coffin that way, Mrs Collins. And I should have been very sorry; because we are all fond of Sinjon. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's your duty to rebuke me. But do you think I dont know? THE BISHOP. I dont rebuke you. Who am I that I should rebuke you? Besides, I know there are discussions in which the poker is the only possible argument. MRS GEORGE. My lord: be earnest with me. I'm a very funny woman, I daresay; but I come from the same workshop as you. I heard you say that yourself years ago. THE BISHOP. Quite so; but then I'm a very funny Bishop. Since we are both funny people, let us not forget that humor is a divine attribute. MRS GEORGE. I know nothing about divine attributes or whatever you call them; but I can feel when I am being belittled. It was from you that I learnt first to respect myself. It was through you that I came to be able to walk safely through many wild and wilful paths. Dont go back on your own teaching. THE BISHOP. I'm not a teacher: only a fellow-traveller of whom you asked the way. I pointed ahead--ahead of myself as well as of you. MRS GEORGE [rising and standing over him almost threateningly] As I'm a living woman this day, if I find you out to be a fraud, I'll kill myself. THE BISHOP. What! Kill yourself for finding out something! For becoming a wiser and therefore a better woman! What a bad reason! MRS GEORGE. I have sometimes thought of killing you, and then killing myself. THE BISHOP. Why on earth should you kill yourself--not to mention me? MRS GEORGE. So that we might keep our assignation in Heaven. THE BISHOP [rising and facing her, breathless] Mrs. Collins! YOU are Incognita Appassionata! MRS GEORGE. You read my letters, then? [With a sigh of grateful relief, she sits down quietly, and says] Thank you. THE BISHOP [remorsefully] And I have broken the spell by making you come here [sitting down again]. Can you ever forgive me? MRS GEORGE. You couldnt know that it was only the coal merchant's wife, could you? THE BISHOP. Why do you say only the coal merchant's wife? MRS GEORGE. Many people would laugh at it. THE BISHOP. Poor people! It's so hard to know the right place to laugh, isnt it? MRS GEORGE. I didnt mean to make you think the letters were from a fine lady. I wrote on cheap paper; and I never could spell. THE BISHOP. Neither could I. So that told me nothing. MRS GEORGE. One thing I should like you to know. THE BISHOP. Yes? MRS GEORGE. We didnt cheat your friend. They were as good as we could do at thirteen shillings a ton. THE BISHOP. Thats important. Thank you for telling me. MRS GEORGE. I have something else to say; but will you please ask somebody to come and stay here while we talk? [He rises and turns to the study door]. Not a woman, if you dont mind. [He nods understandingly and passes on]. Not a man either. THE BISHOP [stopping] Not a man and not a woman! We have no children left, Mrs Collins. They are all grown up and married. MRS GEORGE. That other clergyman would do. THE BISHOP. What! The sexton? MRS GEORGE. Yes. He didnt mind my calling him that, did he? It was only my ignorance. THE BISHOP. Not at all. [He opens the study door and calls] Soames! Anthony! [To Mrs George] Call him Father: he likes it. [Soames appears at the study door]. Mrs Collins wishes you to join us, Anthony. Soames looks puzzled. MRS GEORGE. You dont mind, Dad, do you? [As this greeting visibly gives him a shock that hardly bears out the Bishop's advice, she says anxiously] That was what you told me to call him, wasnt it? SOAMES. I am called Father Anthony, Mrs Collins. But it does not matter what you call me. [He comes in, and walks past her to the hearth]. THE BISHOP. Mrs Collins has something to say to me that she wants you to hear. SOAMES. I am listening. THE BISHOP [going back to his seat next her] Now. MRS GEORGE. My lord: you should never have married. SOAMES. This woman is inspired. Listen to her, my lord. THE BISHOP [taken aback by the directness of the attack] I married because I was so much in love with Alice that all the difficulties and doubts and dangers of marriage seemed to me the merest moonshine. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's mean to let poor things in for so much while theyre in that state. Would you marry now that you know better if you were a widower? THE BISHOP. I'm old now. It wouldnt matter. MRS GEORGE. But would you if it did matter? THE BISHOP. I think I should marry again lest anyone should imagine I had found marriage unhappy with Alice. SOAMES [sternly] Are you fonder of your wife than of your salvation? THE BISHOP. Oh, very much. When you meet a man who is very particular about his salvation, look out for a woman who is very particular about her character; and marry them to one another: theyll make a perfect pair. I advise you to fall in love; Anthony. SOAMES [with horror] I!! THE BISHOP. Yes, you! think of what it would do for you. For her sake you would come to care unselfishly and diligently for money instead of being selfishly and lazily indifferent to it. For her sake you would come to care in the same way for preferment. For her sake you would come to care for your health, your appearance, the good opinion of your fellow creatures, and all the really important things that make men work and strive instead of mooning and nursing their salvation. SOAMES. In one word, for the sake of one deadly sin I should come to care for all the others. THE BISHOP. Saint Anthony! Tempt him, Mrs Collins: tempt him. MRS GEORGE [rising and looking strangely before her] Take care, my lord: you still have the power to make me obey your commands. And do you, Mr Sexton, beware of an empty heart. THE BISHOP. Yes. Nature abhors a vacuum, Anthony. I would not dare go about with an empty heart: why, the first girl I met would fly into it by mere atmospheric pressure. Alice keeps them out now. Mrs Collins knows. MRS GEORGE [a faint convulsion passing like a wave over her] I know more than either of you. One of you has not yet exhausted his first love: the other has not yet reached it. But I--I--[she reels and is again convulsed]. THE BISHOP [saving her from falling] Whats the matter? Are you ill, Mrs Collins? [He gets her back into her chair]. Soames: theres a glass of water in the study--quick. [Soames hurries to the study door.] MRS. GEORGE. No. [Soames stops]. Dont call. Dont bring anyone. Cant you hear anything? THE BISHOP. Nothing unusual. [He sits by her, watching her with intense surprise and interest]. MRS GEORGE. No music? SOAMES. No. [He steals to the end of the table and sits on her right, equally interested]. MRS GEORGE. Do you see nothing--not a great light? THE BISHOP. We are still walking in darkness. MRS GEORGE. Put your hand on my forehead: the hand with the ring. [He does so. Her eyes close]. SOAMES [inspired to prophesy] There was a certain woman, the wife of a coal merchant, which had been a great sinner . . . The Bishop, startled, takes his hand away. Mrs George's eyes open vividly as she interrupts Soames. MRS GEORGE. You prophesy falsely, Anthony: never in all my life have I done anything that was not ordained for me. [More quietly] Ive been myself. Ive not been afraid of myself. And at last I have escaped from myself, and am become a voice for them that are afraid to speak, and a cry for the hearts that break in silence. SOAMES [whispering] Is she inspired? THE BISHOP. Marvellous. Hush. MRS GEORGE. I have earned the right to speak. I have dared: I have gone through: I have not fallen withered in the fire: I have come at last out beyond, to the back of Godspeed? THE BISHOP. And what do you see there, at the back of Godspeed? SOAMES [hungrily] Give us your message. MRS GEORGE [with intensely sad reproach] When you loved me I gave you the whole sun and stars to play with. I gave you eternity in a single moment, strength of the mountains in one clasp of your arms, and the volume of all the seas in one impulse of your souls. A moment only; but was it not enough? Were you not paid then for all the rest of your struggle on earth? Must I mend your clothes and sweep your floors as well? Was it not enough? I paid the price without bargaining: I bore the children without flinching: was that a reason for heaping fresh burdens on me? I carried the child in my arms: must I carry the father too? When I opened the gates of paradise, were you blind? was it nothing to you? When all the stars sang in your ears and all the winds swept you into the heart of heaven, were you deaf? were you dull? was I no more to you than a bone to a dog? Was it not enough? We spent eternity together; and you ask me for a little lifetime more. We possessed all the universe together; and you ask me to give you my scanty wages as well. I have given you the greatest of all things; and you ask me to give you little things. I gave you your own soul: you ask me for my body as a plaything. Was it not enough? Was it not enough? SOAMES. Do you understand this, my lord? THE BISHOP. I have that advantage over you, Anthony, thanks to Alice. [He takes Mrs George's hand]. Your hand is very cold. Can you come down to earth? Do you remember who I am, and who you are? MRS GEORGE. It was enough for me. I did not ask to meet you--to touch you--[the Bishop quickly releases her hand]. When you spoke to my soul years ago from your pulpit, you opened the doors of my salvation to me; and now they stand open for ever. It was enough: I have asked you for nothing since: I ask you for nothing now. I have lived: it is enough. I have had my wages; and I am ready for my work. I thank you and bless you and leave you. You are happier in that than I am; for when I do for men what you did for me, I have no thanks, and no blessing: I am their prey; and there is no rest from their loving and no mercy from their loathing. THE BISHOP. You must take us as we are, Mrs Collins. SOAMES. No. Take us as we are capable of becoming. MRS GEORGE. Take me as I am: I ask no more. [She turns her head to the study door and cries] Yes: come in, come in. Hotchkiss comes softly in from the study. HOTCHKISS. Will you be so kind as to tell me whether I am dreaming? In there I have heard Mrs Collins saying the strangest things, and not a syllable from you two. SOAMES. My lord; is this possession by the devil? THE BISHOP. Or the ecstasy of a saint? HOTCHKISS. Or the convulsion of the pythoness on the tripod? THE BISHOP. May not the three be one? MRS GEORGE [troubled] You are paining and tiring me with idle questions. You are dragging me back to myself. You are tormenting me with your evil dreams of saints and devils and--what was it?-- [striving to fathom it] the pythoness--the pythoness--[giving it up] I dont understand. I am a woman: a human creature like yourselves. Will you not take me as I am? SOAMES. Yes; but shall we take you and burn you? THE BISHOP. Or take you and canonize you? HOTCHKISS [gaily] Or take you as a matter of course? [Swiftly to the Bishop] We must get her out of this: it's dangerous. [Aloud to her] May I suggest that you shall be Anthony's devil and the Bishop's saint and my adored Polly? [Slipping behind her, he picks up her hand from her lap and kisses it over her shoulder]. MRS GEORGE [waking] What was that? Who kissed my hand? [To the Bishop, eagerly] Was it you? [He shakes his head. She is mortified]. I beg your pardon. THE BISHOP. Not at all. I'm not repudiating that honor. Allow me [he kisses her hand]. MRS GEORGE. Thank you for that. It was not the sexton, was it? SOAMES. I! HOTCHKISS. It was I, Polly, your ever faithful. MRS GEORGE [turning and seeing him] Let me catch you doing it again: thats all. How do you come there? I sent you away. [With great energy, becoming quite herself again] What the goodness gracious has been happening? HOTCHKISS. As far as I can make out, you have been having a very charming and eloquent sort of fit. MRS GEORGE [delighted] What! My second sight! [To the Bishop] Oh, how I have prayed that it might come to me if ever I met you! And now it has come. How stunning! You may believe every word I said: I cant remember it now; but it was something that was just bursting to be said; and so it laid hold of me and said itself. Thats how it is, you see. Edith and Cecil Sykes come in through the tower. She has her hat on. Leo follows. They have evidently been out together. Sykes, with an unnatural air, half foolish, half rakish, as if he had lost all his self-respect and were determined not to let it prey on his spirits, throws himself into a chair at the end of the table near the hearth and thrusts his hands into his pockets, like Hogarth's Rake, without waiting for Edith to sit down. She sits in the railed chair. Leo takes the chair nearest the tower on the long side of the table, brooding, with closed lips. THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. With Cecil? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding? No reply. Blank silence. SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie. EDITH. Tell them yourself. The General comes in from the garden. THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me with some tobacco? Ive finished mine; and my nerves are still far from settled. THE BISHOP. Wait a moment, Boxer. Cecil has something important to tell us. SYKES. Weve done it. Thats all. HOTCHKISS. Done what, Cecil? SYKES. Well, what do you suppose? EDITH. Got married, of course. THE GENERAL. Married! Who gave you away? SYKES [jerking his head towards the tower] This gentleman did.[Seeing that they do not understand, he looks round and sees that there is no one there]. Oh! I thought he came in with us. Hes gone downstairs, I suppose. The Beadle. THE GENERAL. The Beadle! What the devil did he do that for? SYKES. Oh, I dont know: I didnt make any bargain with him. [To Mrs George] How much ought I to give him, Mrs Collins? MRS GEORGE. Five shillings. [To the Bishop] I want to rest for a moment: there! in your study. I saw it here [she touches her forehead]. THE BISHOP [opening the study door for her] By all means. Turn my brother out if he disturbs you. Soames: bring the letters out here. SYKES. He wont be offended at my offering it, will he? MRS GEORGE. Not he! He touches children with the mace to cure them of ringworm for fourpence apiece. [She goes into the study. Soames follows her]. THE GENERAL. Well, Edith, I'm a little disappointed, I must say. However, I'm glad it was done by somebody in a public uniform. Mrs Bridgenorth and Lesbia come in through the tower. Mrs Bridgenorth makes for the Bishop. He goes to her, and they meet near the oak chest. Lesbia comes between Sykes and Edith. THE BISHOP. Alice, my love, theyre married. MRS BRIDGENORTH [placidly] Oh, well, thats all right. Better tell Collins. Soames comes back from the study with his writing materials. He seats himself at the nearest end of the table and goes on with his work. Hotchkiss sits down in the next chair round the table corner, with his back to him. LESBIA. You have both given in, have you? EDITH. Not at all. We have provided for everything. SOAMES. How? EDITH. Before going to the church, we went to the office of that insurance company--whats its name, Cecil? SYKES. The British Family Insurance Corporation. It insures you against poor relations and all sorts of family contingencies. EDITH. It has consented to insure Cecil against libel actions brought against him on my account. It will give us specially low terms because I am a Bishop's daughter. SYKES. And I have given Edie my solemn word that if I ever commit a crime I'll knock her down before a

sentimental

How many times the word 'sentimental' appears in the text?

First, he talks as if the only thing of any importance in life was which particular woman he shall marry. Second, he has no self-control. THE GENERAL. Women are not all the same to me, Lesbia. MRS GEORGE. Why should they be, pray? Women are all different: it's the men who are all the same. Besides, what does Miss Grantham know about either men or women? She's got too much self- control. LESBIA [widening her eyes and lifting her chin haughtily] And pray how does that prevent me from knowing as much about men and women as people who have no self-control? MRS GEORGE. Because it frightens people into behaving themselves before you; and then how can you tell what they really are? Look at me! I was a spoilt child. My brothers and sisters were well brought up, like all children of respectable publicans. So should I have been if I hadnt been the youngest: ten years younger than my youngest brother. My parents were tired of doing their duty by their children by that time; and they spoilt me for all they were worth. I never knew what it was to want money or anything that money could buy. When I wanted my own way, I had nothing to do but scream for it till I got it. When I was annoyed I didnt control myself: I scratched and called names. Did you ever, after you were grown up, pull a grown-up woman's hair? Did you ever bite a grown-up man? Did you ever call both of them every name you could lay your tongue to? LESBIA [shivering with disgust] No. MRS GEORGE. Well, I did. I know what a woman is like when her hair's pulled. I know what a man is like when he's bit. I know what theyre both like when you tell them what you really feel about them. And thats how I know more of the world than you. LESBIA. The Chinese know what a man is like when he is cut into a thousand pieces, or boiled in oil. That sort of knowledge is of no use to me. I'm afraid we shall never get on with one another, Mrs George. I live like a fencer, always on guard. I like to be confronted with people who are always on guard. I hate sloppy people, slovenly people, people who cant sit up straight, sentimental people. MRS GEORGE. Oh, sentimental your grandmother! You dont learn to hold your own in the world by standing on guard, but by attacking, and getting well hammered yourself. LESBIA. I'm not a prize-fighter, Mrs. Collins. If I cant get a thing without the indignity of fighting for it, I do without it. MRS GEORGE. Do you? Does it strike you that if we were all as clever as you at doing without, there wouldnt be much to live for, would there? TAE GENERAL. I'm afraid, Lesbia, the things you do without are the things you dont want. LESBIA [surprised at his wit] Thats not bad for the silly soldier man. Yes, Boxer: the truth is, I dont want you enough to make the very unreasonable sacrifices required by marriage. And yet that is exactly why I ought to be married. Just because I have the qualities my country wants most I shall go barren to my grave; whilst the women who have neither the strength to resist marriage nor the intelligence to understand its infinite dishonor will make the England of the future. [She rises and walks towards the study]. THE GENERAL [as she is about to pass him] Well, I shall not ask you again, Lesbia. LESBIA. Thank you, Boxer. [She passes on to the study door]. MRS GEORGE. Youre quite done with him, are you? LESBIA. As far as marriage is concerned, yes. The field is clear for you, Mrs George. [She goes into the study]. The General buries his face in his hands. Mrs George comes round the table to him. MRS GEORGE [sympathetically] She's a nice woman, that. And a sort of beauty about her too, different from anyone else. THE GENERAL [overwhelmed] Oh Mrs Collins, thank you, thank you a thousand times. [He rises effusively]. You have thawed the long- frozen springs [he kisses her hand]. Forgive me; and thank you: bless you--[he again takes refuge in the garden, choked with emotion]. MRS GEORGE [looking after him triumphantly] Just caught the dear old warrior on the bounce, eh? HOTCHKISS. Unfaithful to me already! MRS GEORGE. I'm not your property, young man dont you think it. [She goes over to him and faces him]. You understand that? [He suddenly snatches her into his arms and kisses her]. Oh! You. dare do that again, you young blackguard; and I'll jab one of these chairs in your face [she seizes one and holds it in readiness]. Now you shall not see me for another month. HOTCHKISS [deliberately] I shall pay my first visit to your husband this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. Youll see what he'll say to you when I tell him what youve just done. HOTCHKISS. What can he say? What dare he say? MRS GEORGE. Suppose he kicks you out of the house? HOTCHKISS. How can he? Ive fought seven duels with sabres. Ive muscles of iron. Nothing hurts me: not even broken bones. Fighting is absolutely uninteresting to me because it doesnt frighten me or amuse me; and I always win. Your husband is in all these respects an average man, probably. He will be horribly afraid of me; and if under the stimulus of your presence, and for your sake, and because it is the right thing to do among vulgar people, he were to attack me, I should simply defeat him and humiliate him [he gradually gets his hands on the chair and takes it from her, as his words go home phrase by phrase]. Sooner than expose him to that, you would suffer a thousand stolen kisses, wouldnt you? MRS GEORGE [in utter consternation] You young viper! HOTCHKISS. Ha ha! You are in my power. That is one of the oversights of your code of honor for husbands: the man who can bully them can insult their wives with impunity. Tell him if you dare. If I choose to take ten kisses, how will you prevent me? MRS GEORGE. You come within reach of me and I'll not leave a hair on your head. HOTCHKISS [catching her wrists dexterously] Ive got your hands. MRS GEORGE. Youve not got my teeth. Let go; or I'll bite. I will, I tell you. Let go. HOTCHKISS. Bite away: I shall taste quite as nice as George. MRS GEORGE. You beast. Let me go. Do you call yourself a gentleman, to use your brute strength against a woman? HOTCHKISS. You are stronger than me in every way but this. Do you think I will give up my one advantage? Promise youll receive me when I call this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. After what youve just done? Not if it was to save my life. HOTCHKISS. I'll amuse George. MRS GEORGE. He wont be in. HOTCHKISS [taken aback] Do you mean that we should be alone? MRS GEORGE [snatching away her hands triumphantly as his grasp relaxes] Aha! Thats cooled you, has it? HOTCHKISS [anxiously] When will George be at home? MRS GEORGE. It wont matter to you whether he's at home or not. The door will be slammed in your face whenever you call. HOTCHKISS. No servant in London is strong enough to close a door that I mean to keep open. You cant escape me. If you persist, I'll go into the coal trade; make George's acquaintance on the coal exchange; and coax him to take me home with him to make your acquaintance. MRS GEORGE. We have no use for you, young man: neither George nor I [she sails away from him and sits down at the end of the table near the study door]. HOTCHKISS [following her and taking the next chair round the corner of the table] Yes you have. George cant fight for you: I can. MRS GEORGE [turning to face him] You bully. You low bully. HOTCHKISS. You have courage and fascination: I have courage and a pair of fists. We're both bullies, Polly. MRS GEORGE. You have a mischievous tongue. Thats enough to keep you out of my house. HOTCHKISS. It must be rather a house of cards. A word from me to George--just the right word, said in the right way--and down comes your house. MRS GEORGE. Thats why I'll die sooner than let you into it. HOTCHKISS. Then as surely as you live, I enter the coal trade to- morrow. George's taste for amusing company will deliver him into my hands. Before a month passes your home will be at my mercy. MRS GEORGE [rising, at bay] Do you think I'll let myself be driven into a trap like this? HOTCHKISS. You are in it already. Marriage is a trap. You are married. Any man who has the power to spoil your marriage has the power to spoil your life. I have that power over you. MRS GEORGE [desperate] You mean it? HOTCHKISS. I do. MRS GEORGE [resolutely] Well, spoil my marriage and be-- HOTCHKISS [springing up] Polly! MRS GEORGE. Sooner than be your slave I'd face any unhappiness. HOTCHKISS. What! Even for George? MRS GEORGE. There must be honor between me and George, happiness or no happiness. Do your worst. HOTCHKISS [admiring her] Are you really game, Polly? Dare you defy me? MRS GEORGE. If you ask me another question I shant be able to keep my hands off you [she dashes distractedly past him to the other end of the table, her fingers crisping]. HOTCHKISS. That settles it. Polly: I adore you: we were born for one another. As I happen to be a gentleman, I'll never do anything to annoy or injure you except that I reserve the right to give you a black eye if you bite me; but youll never get rid of me now to the end of your life. MRS GEORGE. I shall get rid of you if the beadle has to brain you with the mace for it [she makes for the tower]. HOTCHKISS [running between the table and the oak chest and across to the tower to cut her off] You shant. MRS GEORGE [panting] Shant I though? HOTCHKISS. No you shant. I have one card left to play that youve forgotten. Why were you so unlike yourself when you spoke to the Bishop? MRS GEORGE [agitated beyond measure] Stop. Not that. You shall respect that if you respect nothing else. I forbid you. [He kneels at her feet]. What are you doing? Get up: dont be a fool. HOTCHKISS. Polly: I ask you on my knees to let me make George's acquaintance in his home this afternoon; and I shall remain on my knees till the Bishop comes in and sees us. What will he think of you then? MRS GEORGE [beside herself] Wheres the poker? She rushes to the fireplace; seizes the poker; and makes for Hotchkiss, who flies to the study door. The Bishop enters just then and finds himself between them, narrowly escaping a blow from the poker. THE BISHOP. Dont hit him, Mrs Collins. He is my guest. Mrs George throws down the poker; collapses into the nearest chair; and bursts into tears. The Bishop goes to her and pats her consolingly on the shoulder. She shudders all through at his touch. THE BISHOP. Come! you are in the house of your friends. Can we help you? MRS GEORGE [to Hotchkiss, pointing to the study] Go in there, you. Youre not wanted here. HOTCHKISS. You understand, Bishop, that Mrs Collins is not to blame for this scene. I'm afraid Ive been rather irritating. THE BISHOP. I can quite believe it, Sinjon. Hotchkiss goes into the study. THE BISHOP [turning to Mrs George with great kindness of manner] I'm sorry you have been worried [he sits down on her left]. Never mind him. A little pluck, a little gaiety of heart, a little prayer; and youll be laughing at him. MRS GEORGE. Never fear. I have all that. It was as much my fault as his; and I should have put him in his place with a clip of that poker on the side of his head if you hadnt come in. THE BISHOP. You might have put him in his coffin that way, Mrs Collins. And I should have been very sorry; because we are all fond of Sinjon. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's your duty to rebuke me. But do you think I dont know? THE BISHOP. I dont rebuke you. Who am I that I should rebuke you? Besides, I know there are discussions in which the poker is the only possible argument. MRS GEORGE. My lord: be earnest with me. I'm a very funny woman, I daresay; but I come from the same workshop as you. I heard you say that yourself years ago. THE BISHOP. Quite so; but then I'm a very funny Bishop. Since we are both funny people, let us not forget that humor is a divine attribute. MRS GEORGE. I know nothing about divine attributes or whatever you call them; but I can feel when I am being belittled. It was from you that I learnt first to respect myself. It was through you that I came to be able to walk safely through many wild and wilful paths. Dont go back on your own teaching. THE BISHOP. I'm not a teacher: only a fellow-traveller of whom you asked the way. I pointed ahead--ahead of myself as well as of you. MRS GEORGE [rising and standing over him almost threateningly] As I'm a living woman this day, if I find you out to be a fraud, I'll kill myself. THE BISHOP. What! Kill yourself for finding out something! For becoming a wiser and therefore a better woman! What a bad reason! MRS GEORGE. I have sometimes thought of killing you, and then killing myself. THE BISHOP. Why on earth should you kill yourself--not to mention me? MRS GEORGE. So that we might keep our assignation in Heaven. THE BISHOP [rising and facing her, breathless] Mrs. Collins! YOU are Incognita Appassionata! MRS GEORGE. You read my letters, then? [With a sigh of grateful relief, she sits down quietly, and says] Thank you. THE BISHOP [remorsefully] And I have broken the spell by making you come here [sitting down again]. Can you ever forgive me? MRS GEORGE. You couldnt know that it was only the coal merchant's wife, could you? THE BISHOP. Why do you say only the coal merchant's wife? MRS GEORGE. Many people would laugh at it. THE BISHOP. Poor people! It's so hard to know the right place to laugh, isnt it? MRS GEORGE. I didnt mean to make you think the letters were from a fine lady. I wrote on cheap paper; and I never could spell. THE BISHOP. Neither could I. So that told me nothing. MRS GEORGE. One thing I should like you to know. THE BISHOP. Yes? MRS GEORGE. We didnt cheat your friend. They were as good as we could do at thirteen shillings a ton. THE BISHOP. Thats important. Thank you for telling me. MRS GEORGE. I have something else to say; but will you please ask somebody to come and stay here while we talk? [He rises and turns to the study door]. Not a woman, if you dont mind. [He nods understandingly and passes on]. Not a man either. THE BISHOP [stopping] Not a man and not a woman! We have no children left, Mrs Collins. They are all grown up and married. MRS GEORGE. That other clergyman would do. THE BISHOP. What! The sexton? MRS GEORGE. Yes. He didnt mind my calling him that, did he? It was only my ignorance. THE BISHOP. Not at all. [He opens the study door and calls] Soames! Anthony! [To Mrs George] Call him Father: he likes it. [Soames appears at the study door]. Mrs Collins wishes you to join us, Anthony. Soames looks puzzled. MRS GEORGE. You dont mind, Dad, do you? [As this greeting visibly gives him a shock that hardly bears out the Bishop's advice, she says anxiously] That was what you told me to call him, wasnt it? SOAMES. I am called Father Anthony, Mrs Collins. But it does not matter what you call me. [He comes in, and walks past her to the hearth]. THE BISHOP. Mrs Collins has something to say to me that she wants you to hear. SOAMES. I am listening. THE BISHOP [going back to his seat next her] Now. MRS GEORGE. My lord: you should never have married. SOAMES. This woman is inspired. Listen to her, my lord. THE BISHOP [taken aback by the directness of the attack] I married because I was so much in love with Alice that all the difficulties and doubts and dangers of marriage seemed to me the merest moonshine. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's mean to let poor things in for so much while theyre in that state. Would you marry now that you know better if you were a widower? THE BISHOP. I'm old now. It wouldnt matter. MRS GEORGE. But would you if it did matter? THE BISHOP. I think I should marry again lest anyone should imagine I had found marriage unhappy with Alice. SOAMES [sternly] Are you fonder of your wife than of your salvation? THE BISHOP. Oh, very much. When you meet a man who is very particular about his salvation, look out for a woman who is very particular about her character; and marry them to one another: theyll make a perfect pair. I advise you to fall in love; Anthony. SOAMES [with horror] I!! THE BISHOP. Yes, you! think of what it would do for you. For her sake you would come to care unselfishly and diligently for money instead of being selfishly and lazily indifferent to it. For her sake you would come to care in the same way for preferment. For her sake you would come to care for your health, your appearance, the good opinion of your fellow creatures, and all the really important things that make men work and strive instead of mooning and nursing their salvation. SOAMES. In one word, for the sake of one deadly sin I should come to care for all the others. THE BISHOP. Saint Anthony! Tempt him, Mrs Collins: tempt him. MRS GEORGE [rising and looking strangely before her] Take care, my lord: you still have the power to make me obey your commands. And do you, Mr Sexton, beware of an empty heart. THE BISHOP. Yes. Nature abhors a vacuum, Anthony. I would not dare go about with an empty heart: why, the first girl I met would fly into it by mere atmospheric pressure. Alice keeps them out now. Mrs Collins knows. MRS GEORGE [a faint convulsion passing like a wave over her] I know more than either of you. One of you has not yet exhausted his first love: the other has not yet reached it. But I--I--[she reels and is again convulsed]. THE BISHOP [saving her from falling] Whats the matter? Are you ill, Mrs Collins? [He gets her back into her chair]. Soames: theres a glass of water in the study--quick. [Soames hurries to the study door.] MRS. GEORGE. No. [Soames stops]. Dont call. Dont bring anyone. Cant you hear anything? THE BISHOP. Nothing unusual. [He sits by her, watching her with intense surprise and interest]. MRS GEORGE. No music? SOAMES. No. [He steals to the end of the table and sits on her right, equally interested]. MRS GEORGE. Do you see nothing--not a great light? THE BISHOP. We are still walking in darkness. MRS GEORGE. Put your hand on my forehead: the hand with the ring. [He does so. Her eyes close]. SOAMES [inspired to prophesy] There was a certain woman, the wife of a coal merchant, which had been a great sinner . . . The Bishop, startled, takes his hand away. Mrs George's eyes open vividly as she interrupts Soames. MRS GEORGE. You prophesy falsely, Anthony: never in all my life have I done anything that was not ordained for me. [More quietly] Ive been myself. Ive not been afraid of myself. And at last I have escaped from myself, and am become a voice for them that are afraid to speak, and a cry for the hearts that break in silence. SOAMES [whispering] Is she inspired? THE BISHOP. Marvellous. Hush. MRS GEORGE. I have earned the right to speak. I have dared: I have gone through: I have not fallen withered in the fire: I have come at last out beyond, to the back of Godspeed? THE BISHOP. And what do you see there, at the back of Godspeed? SOAMES [hungrily] Give us your message. MRS GEORGE [with intensely sad reproach] When you loved me I gave you the whole sun and stars to play with. I gave you eternity in a single moment, strength of the mountains in one clasp of your arms, and the volume of all the seas in one impulse of your souls. A moment only; but was it not enough? Were you not paid then for all the rest of your struggle on earth? Must I mend your clothes and sweep your floors as well? Was it not enough? I paid the price without bargaining: I bore the children without flinching: was that a reason for heaping fresh burdens on me? I carried the child in my arms: must I carry the father too? When I opened the gates of paradise, were you blind? was it nothing to you? When all the stars sang in your ears and all the winds swept you into the heart of heaven, were you deaf? were you dull? was I no more to you than a bone to a dog? Was it not enough? We spent eternity together; and you ask me for a little lifetime more. We possessed all the universe together; and you ask me to give you my scanty wages as well. I have given you the greatest of all things; and you ask me to give you little things. I gave you your own soul: you ask me for my body as a plaything. Was it not enough? Was it not enough? SOAMES. Do you understand this, my lord? THE BISHOP. I have that advantage over you, Anthony, thanks to Alice. [He takes Mrs George's hand]. Your hand is very cold. Can you come down to earth? Do you remember who I am, and who you are? MRS GEORGE. It was enough for me. I did not ask to meet you--to touch you--[the Bishop quickly releases her hand]. When you spoke to my soul years ago from your pulpit, you opened the doors of my salvation to me; and now they stand open for ever. It was enough: I have asked you for nothing since: I ask you for nothing now. I have lived: it is enough. I have had my wages; and I am ready for my work. I thank you and bless you and leave you. You are happier in that than I am; for when I do for men what you did for me, I have no thanks, and no blessing: I am their prey; and there is no rest from their loving and no mercy from their loathing. THE BISHOP. You must take us as we are, Mrs Collins. SOAMES. No. Take us as we are capable of becoming. MRS GEORGE. Take me as I am: I ask no more. [She turns her head to the study door and cries] Yes: come in, come in. Hotchkiss comes softly in from the study. HOTCHKISS. Will you be so kind as to tell me whether I am dreaming? In there I have heard Mrs Collins saying the strangest things, and not a syllable from you two. SOAMES. My lord; is this possession by the devil? THE BISHOP. Or the ecstasy of a saint? HOTCHKISS. Or the convulsion of the pythoness on the tripod? THE BISHOP. May not the three be one? MRS GEORGE [troubled] You are paining and tiring me with idle questions. You are dragging me back to myself. You are tormenting me with your evil dreams of saints and devils and--what was it?-- [striving to fathom it] the pythoness--the pythoness--[giving it up] I dont understand. I am a woman: a human creature like yourselves. Will you not take me as I am? SOAMES. Yes; but shall we take you and burn you? THE BISHOP. Or take you and canonize you? HOTCHKISS [gaily] Or take you as a matter of course? [Swiftly to the Bishop] We must get her out of this: it's dangerous. [Aloud to her] May I suggest that you shall be Anthony's devil and the Bishop's saint and my adored Polly? [Slipping behind her, he picks up her hand from her lap and kisses it over her shoulder]. MRS GEORGE [waking] What was that? Who kissed my hand? [To the Bishop, eagerly] Was it you? [He shakes his head. She is mortified]. I beg your pardon. THE BISHOP. Not at all. I'm not repudiating that honor. Allow me [he kisses her hand]. MRS GEORGE. Thank you for that. It was not the sexton, was it? SOAMES. I! HOTCHKISS. It was I, Polly, your ever faithful. MRS GEORGE [turning and seeing him] Let me catch you doing it again: thats all. How do you come there? I sent you away. [With great energy, becoming quite herself again] What the goodness gracious has been happening? HOTCHKISS. As far as I can make out, you have been having a very charming and eloquent sort of fit. MRS GEORGE [delighted] What! My second sight! [To the Bishop] Oh, how I have prayed that it might come to me if ever I met you! And now it has come. How stunning! You may believe every word I said: I cant remember it now; but it was something that was just bursting to be said; and so it laid hold of me and said itself. Thats how it is, you see. Edith and Cecil Sykes come in through the tower. She has her hat on. Leo follows. They have evidently been out together. Sykes, with an unnatural air, half foolish, half rakish, as if he had lost all his self-respect and were determined not to let it prey on his spirits, throws himself into a chair at the end of the table near the hearth and thrusts his hands into his pockets, like Hogarth's Rake, without waiting for Edith to sit down. She sits in the railed chair. Leo takes the chair nearest the tower on the long side of the table, brooding, with closed lips. THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. With Cecil? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding? No reply. Blank silence. SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie. EDITH. Tell them yourself. The General comes in from the garden. THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me with some tobacco? Ive finished mine; and my nerves are still far from settled. THE BISHOP. Wait a moment, Boxer. Cecil has something important to tell us. SYKES. Weve done it. Thats all. HOTCHKISS. Done what, Cecil? SYKES. Well, what do you suppose? EDITH. Got married, of course. THE GENERAL. Married! Who gave you away? SYKES [jerking his head towards the tower] This gentleman did.[Seeing that they do not understand, he looks round and sees that there is no one there]. Oh! I thought he came in with us. Hes gone downstairs, I suppose. The Beadle. THE GENERAL. The Beadle! What the devil did he do that for? SYKES. Oh, I dont know: I didnt make any bargain with him. [To Mrs George] How much ought I to give him, Mrs Collins? MRS GEORGE. Five shillings. [To the Bishop] I want to rest for a moment: there! in your study. I saw it here [she touches her forehead]. THE BISHOP [opening the study door for her] By all means. Turn my brother out if he disturbs you. Soames: bring the letters out here. SYKES. He wont be offended at my offering it, will he? MRS GEORGE. Not he! He touches children with the mace to cure them of ringworm for fourpence apiece. [She goes into the study. Soames follows her]. THE GENERAL. Well, Edith, I'm a little disappointed, I must say. However, I'm glad it was done by somebody in a public uniform. Mrs Bridgenorth and Lesbia come in through the tower. Mrs Bridgenorth makes for the Bishop. He goes to her, and they meet near the oak chest. Lesbia comes between Sykes and Edith. THE BISHOP. Alice, my love, theyre married. MRS BRIDGENORTH [placidly] Oh, well, thats all right. Better tell Collins. Soames comes back from the study with his writing materials. He seats himself at the nearest end of the table and goes on with his work. Hotchkiss sits down in the next chair round the table corner, with his back to him. LESBIA. You have both given in, have you? EDITH. Not at all. We have provided for everything. SOAMES. How? EDITH. Before going to the church, we went to the office of that insurance company--whats its name, Cecil? SYKES. The British Family Insurance Corporation. It insures you against poor relations and all sorts of family contingencies. EDITH. It has consented to insure Cecil against libel actions brought against him on my account. It will give us specially low terms because I am a Bishop's daughter. SYKES. And I have given Edie my solemn word that if I ever commit a crime I'll knock her down before a

ton

How many times the word 'ton' appears in the text?

First, he talks as if the only thing of any importance in life was which particular woman he shall marry. Second, he has no self-control. THE GENERAL. Women are not all the same to me, Lesbia. MRS GEORGE. Why should they be, pray? Women are all different: it's the men who are all the same. Besides, what does Miss Grantham know about either men or women? She's got too much self- control. LESBIA [widening her eyes and lifting her chin haughtily] And pray how does that prevent me from knowing as much about men and women as people who have no self-control? MRS GEORGE. Because it frightens people into behaving themselves before you; and then how can you tell what they really are? Look at me! I was a spoilt child. My brothers and sisters were well brought up, like all children of respectable publicans. So should I have been if I hadnt been the youngest: ten years younger than my youngest brother. My parents were tired of doing their duty by their children by that time; and they spoilt me for all they were worth. I never knew what it was to want money or anything that money could buy. When I wanted my own way, I had nothing to do but scream for it till I got it. When I was annoyed I didnt control myself: I scratched and called names. Did you ever, after you were grown up, pull a grown-up woman's hair? Did you ever bite a grown-up man? Did you ever call both of them every name you could lay your tongue to? LESBIA [shivering with disgust] No. MRS GEORGE. Well, I did. I know what a woman is like when her hair's pulled. I know what a man is like when he's bit. I know what theyre both like when you tell them what you really feel about them. And thats how I know more of the world than you. LESBIA. The Chinese know what a man is like when he is cut into a thousand pieces, or boiled in oil. That sort of knowledge is of no use to me. I'm afraid we shall never get on with one another, Mrs George. I live like a fencer, always on guard. I like to be confronted with people who are always on guard. I hate sloppy people, slovenly people, people who cant sit up straight, sentimental people. MRS GEORGE. Oh, sentimental your grandmother! You dont learn to hold your own in the world by standing on guard, but by attacking, and getting well hammered yourself. LESBIA. I'm not a prize-fighter, Mrs. Collins. If I cant get a thing without the indignity of fighting for it, I do without it. MRS GEORGE. Do you? Does it strike you that if we were all as clever as you at doing without, there wouldnt be much to live for, would there? TAE GENERAL. I'm afraid, Lesbia, the things you do without are the things you dont want. LESBIA [surprised at his wit] Thats not bad for the silly soldier man. Yes, Boxer: the truth is, I dont want you enough to make the very unreasonable sacrifices required by marriage. And yet that is exactly why I ought to be married. Just because I have the qualities my country wants most I shall go barren to my grave; whilst the women who have neither the strength to resist marriage nor the intelligence to understand its infinite dishonor will make the England of the future. [She rises and walks towards the study]. THE GENERAL [as she is about to pass him] Well, I shall not ask you again, Lesbia. LESBIA. Thank you, Boxer. [She passes on to the study door]. MRS GEORGE. Youre quite done with him, are you? LESBIA. As far as marriage is concerned, yes. The field is clear for you, Mrs George. [She goes into the study]. The General buries his face in his hands. Mrs George comes round the table to him. MRS GEORGE [sympathetically] She's a nice woman, that. And a sort of beauty about her too, different from anyone else. THE GENERAL [overwhelmed] Oh Mrs Collins, thank you, thank you a thousand times. [He rises effusively]. You have thawed the long- frozen springs [he kisses her hand]. Forgive me; and thank you: bless you--[he again takes refuge in the garden, choked with emotion]. MRS GEORGE [looking after him triumphantly] Just caught the dear old warrior on the bounce, eh? HOTCHKISS. Unfaithful to me already! MRS GEORGE. I'm not your property, young man dont you think it. [She goes over to him and faces him]. You understand that? [He suddenly snatches her into his arms and kisses her]. Oh! You. dare do that again, you young blackguard; and I'll jab one of these chairs in your face [she seizes one and holds it in readiness]. Now you shall not see me for another month. HOTCHKISS [deliberately] I shall pay my first visit to your husband this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. Youll see what he'll say to you when I tell him what youve just done. HOTCHKISS. What can he say? What dare he say? MRS GEORGE. Suppose he kicks you out of the house? HOTCHKISS. How can he? Ive fought seven duels with sabres. Ive muscles of iron. Nothing hurts me: not even broken bones. Fighting is absolutely uninteresting to me because it doesnt frighten me or amuse me; and I always win. Your husband is in all these respects an average man, probably. He will be horribly afraid of me; and if under the stimulus of your presence, and for your sake, and because it is the right thing to do among vulgar people, he were to attack me, I should simply defeat him and humiliate him [he gradually gets his hands on the chair and takes it from her, as his words go home phrase by phrase]. Sooner than expose him to that, you would suffer a thousand stolen kisses, wouldnt you? MRS GEORGE [in utter consternation] You young viper! HOTCHKISS. Ha ha! You are in my power. That is one of the oversights of your code of honor for husbands: the man who can bully them can insult their wives with impunity. Tell him if you dare. If I choose to take ten kisses, how will you prevent me? MRS GEORGE. You come within reach of me and I'll not leave a hair on your head. HOTCHKISS [catching her wrists dexterously] Ive got your hands. MRS GEORGE. Youve not got my teeth. Let go; or I'll bite. I will, I tell you. Let go. HOTCHKISS. Bite away: I shall taste quite as nice as George. MRS GEORGE. You beast. Let me go. Do you call yourself a gentleman, to use your brute strength against a woman? HOTCHKISS. You are stronger than me in every way but this. Do you think I will give up my one advantage? Promise youll receive me when I call this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. After what youve just done? Not if it was to save my life. HOTCHKISS. I'll amuse George. MRS GEORGE. He wont be in. HOTCHKISS [taken aback] Do you mean that we should be alone? MRS GEORGE [snatching away her hands triumphantly as his grasp relaxes] Aha! Thats cooled you, has it? HOTCHKISS [anxiously] When will George be at home? MRS GEORGE. It wont matter to you whether he's at home or not. The door will be slammed in your face whenever you call. HOTCHKISS. No servant in London is strong enough to close a door that I mean to keep open. You cant escape me. If you persist, I'll go into the coal trade; make George's acquaintance on the coal exchange; and coax him to take me home with him to make your acquaintance. MRS GEORGE. We have no use for you, young man: neither George nor I [she sails away from him and sits down at the end of the table near the study door]. HOTCHKISS [following her and taking the next chair round the corner of the table] Yes you have. George cant fight for you: I can. MRS GEORGE [turning to face him] You bully. You low bully. HOTCHKISS. You have courage and fascination: I have courage and a pair of fists. We're both bullies, Polly. MRS GEORGE. You have a mischievous tongue. Thats enough to keep you out of my house. HOTCHKISS. It must be rather a house of cards. A word from me to George--just the right word, said in the right way--and down comes your house. MRS GEORGE. Thats why I'll die sooner than let you into it. HOTCHKISS. Then as surely as you live, I enter the coal trade to- morrow. George's taste for amusing company will deliver him into my hands. Before a month passes your home will be at my mercy. MRS GEORGE [rising, at bay] Do you think I'll let myself be driven into a trap like this? HOTCHKISS. You are in it already. Marriage is a trap. You are married. Any man who has the power to spoil your marriage has the power to spoil your life. I have that power over you. MRS GEORGE [desperate] You mean it? HOTCHKISS. I do. MRS GEORGE [resolutely] Well, spoil my marriage and be-- HOTCHKISS [springing up] Polly! MRS GEORGE. Sooner than be your slave I'd face any unhappiness. HOTCHKISS. What! Even for George? MRS GEORGE. There must be honor between me and George, happiness or no happiness. Do your worst. HOTCHKISS [admiring her] Are you really game, Polly? Dare you defy me? MRS GEORGE. If you ask me another question I shant be able to keep my hands off you [she dashes distractedly past him to the other end of the table, her fingers crisping]. HOTCHKISS. That settles it. Polly: I adore you: we were born for one another. As I happen to be a gentleman, I'll never do anything to annoy or injure you except that I reserve the right to give you a black eye if you bite me; but youll never get rid of me now to the end of your life. MRS GEORGE. I shall get rid of you if the beadle has to brain you with the mace for it [she makes for the tower]. HOTCHKISS [running between the table and the oak chest and across to the tower to cut her off] You shant. MRS GEORGE [panting] Shant I though? HOTCHKISS. No you shant. I have one card left to play that youve forgotten. Why were you so unlike yourself when you spoke to the Bishop? MRS GEORGE [agitated beyond measure] Stop. Not that. You shall respect that if you respect nothing else. I forbid you. [He kneels at her feet]. What are you doing? Get up: dont be a fool. HOTCHKISS. Polly: I ask you on my knees to let me make George's acquaintance in his home this afternoon; and I shall remain on my knees till the Bishop comes in and sees us. What will he think of you then? MRS GEORGE [beside herself] Wheres the poker? She rushes to the fireplace; seizes the poker; and makes for Hotchkiss, who flies to the study door. The Bishop enters just then and finds himself between them, narrowly escaping a blow from the poker. THE BISHOP. Dont hit him, Mrs Collins. He is my guest. Mrs George throws down the poker; collapses into the nearest chair; and bursts into tears. The Bishop goes to her and pats her consolingly on the shoulder. She shudders all through at his touch. THE BISHOP. Come! you are in the house of your friends. Can we help you? MRS GEORGE [to Hotchkiss, pointing to the study] Go in there, you. Youre not wanted here. HOTCHKISS. You understand, Bishop, that Mrs Collins is not to blame for this scene. I'm afraid Ive been rather irritating. THE BISHOP. I can quite believe it, Sinjon. Hotchkiss goes into the study. THE BISHOP [turning to Mrs George with great kindness of manner] I'm sorry you have been worried [he sits down on her left]. Never mind him. A little pluck, a little gaiety of heart, a little prayer; and youll be laughing at him. MRS GEORGE. Never fear. I have all that. It was as much my fault as his; and I should have put him in his place with a clip of that poker on the side of his head if you hadnt come in. THE BISHOP. You might have put him in his coffin that way, Mrs Collins. And I should have been very sorry; because we are all fond of Sinjon. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's your duty to rebuke me. But do you think I dont know? THE BISHOP. I dont rebuke you. Who am I that I should rebuke you? Besides, I know there are discussions in which the poker is the only possible argument. MRS GEORGE. My lord: be earnest with me. I'm a very funny woman, I daresay; but I come from the same workshop as you. I heard you say that yourself years ago. THE BISHOP. Quite so; but then I'm a very funny Bishop. Since we are both funny people, let us not forget that humor is a divine attribute. MRS GEORGE. I know nothing about divine attributes or whatever you call them; but I can feel when I am being belittled. It was from you that I learnt first to respect myself. It was through you that I came to be able to walk safely through many wild and wilful paths. Dont go back on your own teaching. THE BISHOP. I'm not a teacher: only a fellow-traveller of whom you asked the way. I pointed ahead--ahead of myself as well as of you. MRS GEORGE [rising and standing over him almost threateningly] As I'm a living woman this day, if I find you out to be a fraud, I'll kill myself. THE BISHOP. What! Kill yourself for finding out something! For becoming a wiser and therefore a better woman! What a bad reason! MRS GEORGE. I have sometimes thought of killing you, and then killing myself. THE BISHOP. Why on earth should you kill yourself--not to mention me? MRS GEORGE. So that we might keep our assignation in Heaven. THE BISHOP [rising and facing her, breathless] Mrs. Collins! YOU are Incognita Appassionata! MRS GEORGE. You read my letters, then? [With a sigh of grateful relief, she sits down quietly, and says] Thank you. THE BISHOP [remorsefully] And I have broken the spell by making you come here [sitting down again]. Can you ever forgive me? MRS GEORGE. You couldnt know that it was only the coal merchant's wife, could you? THE BISHOP. Why do you say only the coal merchant's wife? MRS GEORGE. Many people would laugh at it. THE BISHOP. Poor people! It's so hard to know the right place to laugh, isnt it? MRS GEORGE. I didnt mean to make you think the letters were from a fine lady. I wrote on cheap paper; and I never could spell. THE BISHOP. Neither could I. So that told me nothing. MRS GEORGE. One thing I should like you to know. THE BISHOP. Yes? MRS GEORGE. We didnt cheat your friend. They were as good as we could do at thirteen shillings a ton. THE BISHOP. Thats important. Thank you for telling me. MRS GEORGE. I have something else to say; but will you please ask somebody to come and stay here while we talk? [He rises and turns to the study door]. Not a woman, if you dont mind. [He nods understandingly and passes on]. Not a man either. THE BISHOP [stopping] Not a man and not a woman! We have no children left, Mrs Collins. They are all grown up and married. MRS GEORGE. That other clergyman would do. THE BISHOP. What! The sexton? MRS GEORGE. Yes. He didnt mind my calling him that, did he? It was only my ignorance. THE BISHOP. Not at all. [He opens the study door and calls] Soames! Anthony! [To Mrs George] Call him Father: he likes it. [Soames appears at the study door]. Mrs Collins wishes you to join us, Anthony. Soames looks puzzled. MRS GEORGE. You dont mind, Dad, do you? [As this greeting visibly gives him a shock that hardly bears out the Bishop's advice, she says anxiously] That was what you told me to call him, wasnt it? SOAMES. I am called Father Anthony, Mrs Collins. But it does not matter what you call me. [He comes in, and walks past her to the hearth]. THE BISHOP. Mrs Collins has something to say to me that she wants you to hear. SOAMES. I am listening. THE BISHOP [going back to his seat next her] Now. MRS GEORGE. My lord: you should never have married. SOAMES. This woman is inspired. Listen to her, my lord. THE BISHOP [taken aback by the directness of the attack] I married because I was so much in love with Alice that all the difficulties and doubts and dangers of marriage seemed to me the merest moonshine. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's mean to let poor things in for so much while theyre in that state. Would you marry now that you know better if you were a widower? THE BISHOP. I'm old now. It wouldnt matter. MRS GEORGE. But would you if it did matter? THE BISHOP. I think I should marry again lest anyone should imagine I had found marriage unhappy with Alice. SOAMES [sternly] Are you fonder of your wife than of your salvation? THE BISHOP. Oh, very much. When you meet a man who is very particular about his salvation, look out for a woman who is very particular about her character; and marry them to one another: theyll make a perfect pair. I advise you to fall in love; Anthony. SOAMES [with horror] I!! THE BISHOP. Yes, you! think of what it would do for you. For her sake you would come to care unselfishly and diligently for money instead of being selfishly and lazily indifferent to it. For her sake you would come to care in the same way for preferment. For her sake you would come to care for your health, your appearance, the good opinion of your fellow creatures, and all the really important things that make men work and strive instead of mooning and nursing their salvation. SOAMES. In one word, for the sake of one deadly sin I should come to care for all the others. THE BISHOP. Saint Anthony! Tempt him, Mrs Collins: tempt him. MRS GEORGE [rising and looking strangely before her] Take care, my lord: you still have the power to make me obey your commands. And do you, Mr Sexton, beware of an empty heart. THE BISHOP. Yes. Nature abhors a vacuum, Anthony. I would not dare go about with an empty heart: why, the first girl I met would fly into it by mere atmospheric pressure. Alice keeps them out now. Mrs Collins knows. MRS GEORGE [a faint convulsion passing like a wave over her] I know more than either of you. One of you has not yet exhausted his first love: the other has not yet reached it. But I--I--[she reels and is again convulsed]. THE BISHOP [saving her from falling] Whats the matter? Are you ill, Mrs Collins? [He gets her back into her chair]. Soames: theres a glass of water in the study--quick. [Soames hurries to the study door.] MRS. GEORGE. No. [Soames stops]. Dont call. Dont bring anyone. Cant you hear anything? THE BISHOP. Nothing unusual. [He sits by her, watching her with intense surprise and interest]. MRS GEORGE. No music? SOAMES. No. [He steals to the end of the table and sits on her right, equally interested]. MRS GEORGE. Do you see nothing--not a great light? THE BISHOP. We are still walking in darkness. MRS GEORGE. Put your hand on my forehead: the hand with the ring. [He does so. Her eyes close]. SOAMES [inspired to prophesy] There was a certain woman, the wife of a coal merchant, which had been a great sinner . . . The Bishop, startled, takes his hand away. Mrs George's eyes open vividly as she interrupts Soames. MRS GEORGE. You prophesy falsely, Anthony: never in all my life have I done anything that was not ordained for me. [More quietly] Ive been myself. Ive not been afraid of myself. And at last I have escaped from myself, and am become a voice for them that are afraid to speak, and a cry for the hearts that break in silence. SOAMES [whispering] Is she inspired? THE BISHOP. Marvellous. Hush. MRS GEORGE. I have earned the right to speak. I have dared: I have gone through: I have not fallen withered in the fire: I have come at last out beyond, to the back of Godspeed? THE BISHOP. And what do you see there, at the back of Godspeed? SOAMES [hungrily] Give us your message. MRS GEORGE [with intensely sad reproach] When you loved me I gave you the whole sun and stars to play with. I gave you eternity in a single moment, strength of the mountains in one clasp of your arms, and the volume of all the seas in one impulse of your souls. A moment only; but was it not enough? Were you not paid then for all the rest of your struggle on earth? Must I mend your clothes and sweep your floors as well? Was it not enough? I paid the price without bargaining: I bore the children without flinching: was that a reason for heaping fresh burdens on me? I carried the child in my arms: must I carry the father too? When I opened the gates of paradise, were you blind? was it nothing to you? When all the stars sang in your ears and all the winds swept you into the heart of heaven, were you deaf? were you dull? was I no more to you than a bone to a dog? Was it not enough? We spent eternity together; and you ask me for a little lifetime more. We possessed all the universe together; and you ask me to give you my scanty wages as well. I have given you the greatest of all things; and you ask me to give you little things. I gave you your own soul: you ask me for my body as a plaything. Was it not enough? Was it not enough? SOAMES. Do you understand this, my lord? THE BISHOP. I have that advantage over you, Anthony, thanks to Alice. [He takes Mrs George's hand]. Your hand is very cold. Can you come down to earth? Do you remember who I am, and who you are? MRS GEORGE. It was enough for me. I did not ask to meet you--to touch you--[the Bishop quickly releases her hand]. When you spoke to my soul years ago from your pulpit, you opened the doors of my salvation to me; and now they stand open for ever. It was enough: I have asked you for nothing since: I ask you for nothing now. I have lived: it is enough. I have had my wages; and I am ready for my work. I thank you and bless you and leave you. You are happier in that than I am; for when I do for men what you did for me, I have no thanks, and no blessing: I am their prey; and there is no rest from their loving and no mercy from their loathing. THE BISHOP. You must take us as we are, Mrs Collins. SOAMES. No. Take us as we are capable of becoming. MRS GEORGE. Take me as I am: I ask no more. [She turns her head to the study door and cries] Yes: come in, come in. Hotchkiss comes softly in from the study. HOTCHKISS. Will you be so kind as to tell me whether I am dreaming? In there I have heard Mrs Collins saying the strangest things, and not a syllable from you two. SOAMES. My lord; is this possession by the devil? THE BISHOP. Or the ecstasy of a saint? HOTCHKISS. Or the convulsion of the pythoness on the tripod? THE BISHOP. May not the three be one? MRS GEORGE [troubled] You are paining and tiring me with idle questions. You are dragging me back to myself. You are tormenting me with your evil dreams of saints and devils and--what was it?-- [striving to fathom it] the pythoness--the pythoness--[giving it up] I dont understand. I am a woman: a human creature like yourselves. Will you not take me as I am? SOAMES. Yes; but shall we take you and burn you? THE BISHOP. Or take you and canonize you? HOTCHKISS [gaily] Or take you as a matter of course? [Swiftly to the Bishop] We must get her out of this: it's dangerous. [Aloud to her] May I suggest that you shall be Anthony's devil and the Bishop's saint and my adored Polly? [Slipping behind her, he picks up her hand from her lap and kisses it over her shoulder]. MRS GEORGE [waking] What was that? Who kissed my hand? [To the Bishop, eagerly] Was it you? [He shakes his head. She is mortified]. I beg your pardon. THE BISHOP. Not at all. I'm not repudiating that honor. Allow me [he kisses her hand]. MRS GEORGE. Thank you for that. It was not the sexton, was it? SOAMES. I! HOTCHKISS. It was I, Polly, your ever faithful. MRS GEORGE [turning and seeing him] Let me catch you doing it again: thats all. How do you come there? I sent you away. [With great energy, becoming quite herself again] What the goodness gracious has been happening? HOTCHKISS. As far as I can make out, you have been having a very charming and eloquent sort of fit. MRS GEORGE [delighted] What! My second sight! [To the Bishop] Oh, how I have prayed that it might come to me if ever I met you! And now it has come. How stunning! You may believe every word I said: I cant remember it now; but it was something that was just bursting to be said; and so it laid hold of me and said itself. Thats how it is, you see. Edith and Cecil Sykes come in through the tower. She has her hat on. Leo follows. They have evidently been out together. Sykes, with an unnatural air, half foolish, half rakish, as if he had lost all his self-respect and were determined not to let it prey on his spirits, throws himself into a chair at the end of the table near the hearth and thrusts his hands into his pockets, like Hogarth's Rake, without waiting for Edith to sit down. She sits in the railed chair. Leo takes the chair nearest the tower on the long side of the table, brooding, with closed lips. THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. With Cecil? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding? No reply. Blank silence. SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie. EDITH. Tell them yourself. The General comes in from the garden. THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me with some tobacco? Ive finished mine; and my nerves are still far from settled. THE BISHOP. Wait a moment, Boxer. Cecil has something important to tell us. SYKES. Weve done it. Thats all. HOTCHKISS. Done what, Cecil? SYKES. Well, what do you suppose? EDITH. Got married, of course. THE GENERAL. Married! Who gave you away? SYKES [jerking his head towards the tower] This gentleman did.[Seeing that they do not understand, he looks round and sees that there is no one there]. Oh! I thought he came in with us. Hes gone downstairs, I suppose. The Beadle. THE GENERAL. The Beadle! What the devil did he do that for? SYKES. Oh, I dont know: I didnt make any bargain with him. [To Mrs George] How much ought I to give him, Mrs Collins? MRS GEORGE. Five shillings. [To the Bishop] I want to rest for a moment: there! in your study. I saw it here [she touches her forehead]. THE BISHOP [opening the study door for her] By all means. Turn my brother out if he disturbs you. Soames: bring the letters out here. SYKES. He wont be offended at my offering it, will he? MRS GEORGE. Not he! He touches children with the mace to cure them of ringworm for fourpence apiece. [She goes into the study. Soames follows her]. THE GENERAL. Well, Edith, I'm a little disappointed, I must say. However, I'm glad it was done by somebody in a public uniform. Mrs Bridgenorth and Lesbia come in through the tower. Mrs Bridgenorth makes for the Bishop. He goes to her, and they meet near the oak chest. Lesbia comes between Sykes and Edith. THE BISHOP. Alice, my love, theyre married. MRS BRIDGENORTH [placidly] Oh, well, thats all right. Better tell Collins. Soames comes back from the study with his writing materials. He seats himself at the nearest end of the table and goes on with his work. Hotchkiss sits down in the next chair round the table corner, with his back to him. LESBIA. You have both given in, have you? EDITH. Not at all. We have provided for everything. SOAMES. How? EDITH. Before going to the church, we went to the office of that insurance company--whats its name, Cecil? SYKES. The British Family Insurance Corporation. It insures you against poor relations and all sorts of family contingencies. EDITH. It has consented to insure Cecil against libel actions brought against him on my account. It will give us specially low terms because I am a Bishop's daughter. SYKES. And I have given Edie my solemn word that if I ever commit a crime I'll knock her down before a

prophesy

How many times the word 'prophesy' appears in the text?

First, he talks as if the only thing of any importance in life was which particular woman he shall marry. Second, he has no self-control. THE GENERAL. Women are not all the same to me, Lesbia. MRS GEORGE. Why should they be, pray? Women are all different: it's the men who are all the same. Besides, what does Miss Grantham know about either men or women? She's got too much self- control. LESBIA [widening her eyes and lifting her chin haughtily] And pray how does that prevent me from knowing as much about men and women as people who have no self-control? MRS GEORGE. Because it frightens people into behaving themselves before you; and then how can you tell what they really are? Look at me! I was a spoilt child. My brothers and sisters were well brought up, like all children of respectable publicans. So should I have been if I hadnt been the youngest: ten years younger than my youngest brother. My parents were tired of doing their duty by their children by that time; and they spoilt me for all they were worth. I never knew what it was to want money or anything that money could buy. When I wanted my own way, I had nothing to do but scream for it till I got it. When I was annoyed I didnt control myself: I scratched and called names. Did you ever, after you were grown up, pull a grown-up woman's hair? Did you ever bite a grown-up man? Did you ever call both of them every name you could lay your tongue to? LESBIA [shivering with disgust] No. MRS GEORGE. Well, I did. I know what a woman is like when her hair's pulled. I know what a man is like when he's bit. I know what theyre both like when you tell them what you really feel about them. And thats how I know more of the world than you. LESBIA. The Chinese know what a man is like when he is cut into a thousand pieces, or boiled in oil. That sort of knowledge is of no use to me. I'm afraid we shall never get on with one another, Mrs George. I live like a fencer, always on guard. I like to be confronted with people who are always on guard. I hate sloppy people, slovenly people, people who cant sit up straight, sentimental people. MRS GEORGE. Oh, sentimental your grandmother! You dont learn to hold your own in the world by standing on guard, but by attacking, and getting well hammered yourself. LESBIA. I'm not a prize-fighter, Mrs. Collins. If I cant get a thing without the indignity of fighting for it, I do without it. MRS GEORGE. Do you? Does it strike you that if we were all as clever as you at doing without, there wouldnt be much to live for, would there? TAE GENERAL. I'm afraid, Lesbia, the things you do without are the things you dont want. LESBIA [surprised at his wit] Thats not bad for the silly soldier man. Yes, Boxer: the truth is, I dont want you enough to make the very unreasonable sacrifices required by marriage. And yet that is exactly why I ought to be married. Just because I have the qualities my country wants most I shall go barren to my grave; whilst the women who have neither the strength to resist marriage nor the intelligence to understand its infinite dishonor will make the England of the future. [She rises and walks towards the study]. THE GENERAL [as she is about to pass him] Well, I shall not ask you again, Lesbia. LESBIA. Thank you, Boxer. [She passes on to the study door]. MRS GEORGE. Youre quite done with him, are you? LESBIA. As far as marriage is concerned, yes. The field is clear for you, Mrs George. [She goes into the study]. The General buries his face in his hands. Mrs George comes round the table to him. MRS GEORGE [sympathetically] She's a nice woman, that. And a sort of beauty about her too, different from anyone else. THE GENERAL [overwhelmed] Oh Mrs Collins, thank you, thank you a thousand times. [He rises effusively]. You have thawed the long- frozen springs [he kisses her hand]. Forgive me; and thank you: bless you--[he again takes refuge in the garden, choked with emotion]. MRS GEORGE [looking after him triumphantly] Just caught the dear old warrior on the bounce, eh? HOTCHKISS. Unfaithful to me already! MRS GEORGE. I'm not your property, young man dont you think it. [She goes over to him and faces him]. You understand that? [He suddenly snatches her into his arms and kisses her]. Oh! You. dare do that again, you young blackguard; and I'll jab one of these chairs in your face [she seizes one and holds it in readiness]. Now you shall not see me for another month. HOTCHKISS [deliberately] I shall pay my first visit to your husband this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. Youll see what he'll say to you when I tell him what youve just done. HOTCHKISS. What can he say? What dare he say? MRS GEORGE. Suppose he kicks you out of the house? HOTCHKISS. How can he? Ive fought seven duels with sabres. Ive muscles of iron. Nothing hurts me: not even broken bones. Fighting is absolutely uninteresting to me because it doesnt frighten me or amuse me; and I always win. Your husband is in all these respects an average man, probably. He will be horribly afraid of me; and if under the stimulus of your presence, and for your sake, and because it is the right thing to do among vulgar people, he were to attack me, I should simply defeat him and humiliate him [he gradually gets his hands on the chair and takes it from her, as his words go home phrase by phrase]. Sooner than expose him to that, you would suffer a thousand stolen kisses, wouldnt you? MRS GEORGE [in utter consternation] You young viper! HOTCHKISS. Ha ha! You are in my power. That is one of the oversights of your code of honor for husbands: the man who can bully them can insult their wives with impunity. Tell him if you dare. If I choose to take ten kisses, how will you prevent me? MRS GEORGE. You come within reach of me and I'll not leave a hair on your head. HOTCHKISS [catching her wrists dexterously] Ive got your hands. MRS GEORGE. Youve not got my teeth. Let go; or I'll bite. I will, I tell you. Let go. HOTCHKISS. Bite away: I shall taste quite as nice as George. MRS GEORGE. You beast. Let me go. Do you call yourself a gentleman, to use your brute strength against a woman? HOTCHKISS. You are stronger than me in every way but this. Do you think I will give up my one advantage? Promise youll receive me when I call this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. After what youve just done? Not if it was to save my life. HOTCHKISS. I'll amuse George. MRS GEORGE. He wont be in. HOTCHKISS [taken aback] Do you mean that we should be alone? MRS GEORGE [snatching away her hands triumphantly as his grasp relaxes] Aha! Thats cooled you, has it? HOTCHKISS [anxiously] When will George be at home? MRS GEORGE. It wont matter to you whether he's at home or not. The door will be slammed in your face whenever you call. HOTCHKISS. No servant in London is strong enough to close a door that I mean to keep open. You cant escape me. If you persist, I'll go into the coal trade; make George's acquaintance on the coal exchange; and coax him to take me home with him to make your acquaintance. MRS GEORGE. We have no use for you, young man: neither George nor I [she sails away from him and sits down at the end of the table near the study door]. HOTCHKISS [following her and taking the next chair round the corner of the table] Yes you have. George cant fight for you: I can. MRS GEORGE [turning to face him] You bully. You low bully. HOTCHKISS. You have courage and fascination: I have courage and a pair of fists. We're both bullies, Polly. MRS GEORGE. You have a mischievous tongue. Thats enough to keep you out of my house. HOTCHKISS. It must be rather a house of cards. A word from me to George--just the right word, said in the right way--and down comes your house. MRS GEORGE. Thats why I'll die sooner than let you into it. HOTCHKISS. Then as surely as you live, I enter the coal trade to- morrow. George's taste for amusing company will deliver him into my hands. Before a month passes your home will be at my mercy. MRS GEORGE [rising, at bay] Do you think I'll let myself be driven into a trap like this? HOTCHKISS. You are in it already. Marriage is a trap. You are married. Any man who has the power to spoil your marriage has the power to spoil your life. I have that power over you. MRS GEORGE [desperate] You mean it? HOTCHKISS. I do. MRS GEORGE [resolutely] Well, spoil my marriage and be-- HOTCHKISS [springing up] Polly! MRS GEORGE. Sooner than be your slave I'd face any unhappiness. HOTCHKISS. What! Even for George? MRS GEORGE. There must be honor between me and George, happiness or no happiness. Do your worst. HOTCHKISS [admiring her] Are you really game, Polly? Dare you defy me? MRS GEORGE. If you ask me another question I shant be able to keep my hands off you [she dashes distractedly past him to the other end of the table, her fingers crisping]. HOTCHKISS. That settles it. Polly: I adore you: we were born for one another. As I happen to be a gentleman, I'll never do anything to annoy or injure you except that I reserve the right to give you a black eye if you bite me; but youll never get rid of me now to the end of your life. MRS GEORGE. I shall get rid of you if the beadle has to brain you with the mace for it [she makes for the tower]. HOTCHKISS [running between the table and the oak chest and across to the tower to cut her off] You shant. MRS GEORGE [panting] Shant I though? HOTCHKISS. No you shant. I have one card left to play that youve forgotten. Why were you so unlike yourself when you spoke to the Bishop? MRS GEORGE [agitated beyond measure] Stop. Not that. You shall respect that if you respect nothing else. I forbid you. [He kneels at her feet]. What are you doing? Get up: dont be a fool. HOTCHKISS. Polly: I ask you on my knees to let me make George's acquaintance in his home this afternoon; and I shall remain on my knees till the Bishop comes in and sees us. What will he think of you then? MRS GEORGE [beside herself] Wheres the poker? She rushes to the fireplace; seizes the poker; and makes for Hotchkiss, who flies to the study door. The Bishop enters just then and finds himself between them, narrowly escaping a blow from the poker. THE BISHOP. Dont hit him, Mrs Collins. He is my guest. Mrs George throws down the poker; collapses into the nearest chair; and bursts into tears. The Bishop goes to her and pats her consolingly on the shoulder. She shudders all through at his touch. THE BISHOP. Come! you are in the house of your friends. Can we help you? MRS GEORGE [to Hotchkiss, pointing to the study] Go in there, you. Youre not wanted here. HOTCHKISS. You understand, Bishop, that Mrs Collins is not to blame for this scene. I'm afraid Ive been rather irritating. THE BISHOP. I can quite believe it, Sinjon. Hotchkiss goes into the study. THE BISHOP [turning to Mrs George with great kindness of manner] I'm sorry you have been worried [he sits down on her left]. Never mind him. A little pluck, a little gaiety of heart, a little prayer; and youll be laughing at him. MRS GEORGE. Never fear. I have all that. It was as much my fault as his; and I should have put him in his place with a clip of that poker on the side of his head if you hadnt come in. THE BISHOP. You might have put him in his coffin that way, Mrs Collins. And I should have been very sorry; because we are all fond of Sinjon. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's your duty to rebuke me. But do you think I dont know? THE BISHOP. I dont rebuke you. Who am I that I should rebuke you? Besides, I know there are discussions in which the poker is the only possible argument. MRS GEORGE. My lord: be earnest with me. I'm a very funny woman, I daresay; but I come from the same workshop as you. I heard you say that yourself years ago. THE BISHOP. Quite so; but then I'm a very funny Bishop. Since we are both funny people, let us not forget that humor is a divine attribute. MRS GEORGE. I know nothing about divine attributes or whatever you call them; but I can feel when I am being belittled. It was from you that I learnt first to respect myself. It was through you that I came to be able to walk safely through many wild and wilful paths. Dont go back on your own teaching. THE BISHOP. I'm not a teacher: only a fellow-traveller of whom you asked the way. I pointed ahead--ahead of myself as well as of you. MRS GEORGE [rising and standing over him almost threateningly] As I'm a living woman this day, if I find you out to be a fraud, I'll kill myself. THE BISHOP. What! Kill yourself for finding out something! For becoming a wiser and therefore a better woman! What a bad reason! MRS GEORGE. I have sometimes thought of killing you, and then killing myself. THE BISHOP. Why on earth should you kill yourself--not to mention me? MRS GEORGE. So that we might keep our assignation in Heaven. THE BISHOP [rising and facing her, breathless] Mrs. Collins! YOU are Incognita Appassionata! MRS GEORGE. You read my letters, then? [With a sigh of grateful relief, she sits down quietly, and says] Thank you. THE BISHOP [remorsefully] And I have broken the spell by making you come here [sitting down again]. Can you ever forgive me? MRS GEORGE. You couldnt know that it was only the coal merchant's wife, could you? THE BISHOP. Why do you say only the coal merchant's wife? MRS GEORGE. Many people would laugh at it. THE BISHOP. Poor people! It's so hard to know the right place to laugh, isnt it? MRS GEORGE. I didnt mean to make you think the letters were from a fine lady. I wrote on cheap paper; and I never could spell. THE BISHOP. Neither could I. So that told me nothing. MRS GEORGE. One thing I should like you to know. THE BISHOP. Yes? MRS GEORGE. We didnt cheat your friend. They were as good as we could do at thirteen shillings a ton. THE BISHOP. Thats important. Thank you for telling me. MRS GEORGE. I have something else to say; but will you please ask somebody to come and stay here while we talk? [He rises and turns to the study door]. Not a woman, if you dont mind. [He nods understandingly and passes on]. Not a man either. THE BISHOP [stopping] Not a man and not a woman! We have no children left, Mrs Collins. They are all grown up and married. MRS GEORGE. That other clergyman would do. THE BISHOP. What! The sexton? MRS GEORGE. Yes. He didnt mind my calling him that, did he? It was only my ignorance. THE BISHOP. Not at all. [He opens the study door and calls] Soames! Anthony! [To Mrs George] Call him Father: he likes it. [Soames appears at the study door]. Mrs Collins wishes you to join us, Anthony. Soames looks puzzled. MRS GEORGE. You dont mind, Dad, do you? [As this greeting visibly gives him a shock that hardly bears out the Bishop's advice, she says anxiously] That was what you told me to call him, wasnt it? SOAMES. I am called Father Anthony, Mrs Collins. But it does not matter what you call me. [He comes in, and walks past her to the hearth]. THE BISHOP. Mrs Collins has something to say to me that she wants you to hear. SOAMES. I am listening. THE BISHOP [going back to his seat next her] Now. MRS GEORGE. My lord: you should never have married. SOAMES. This woman is inspired. Listen to her, my lord. THE BISHOP [taken aback by the directness of the attack] I married because I was so much in love with Alice that all the difficulties and doubts and dangers of marriage seemed to me the merest moonshine. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's mean to let poor things in for so much while theyre in that state. Would you marry now that you know better if you were a widower? THE BISHOP. I'm old now. It wouldnt matter. MRS GEORGE. But would you if it did matter? THE BISHOP. I think I should marry again lest anyone should imagine I had found marriage unhappy with Alice. SOAMES [sternly] Are you fonder of your wife than of your salvation? THE BISHOP. Oh, very much. When you meet a man who is very particular about his salvation, look out for a woman who is very particular about her character; and marry them to one another: theyll make a perfect pair. I advise you to fall in love; Anthony. SOAMES [with horror] I!! THE BISHOP. Yes, you! think of what it would do for you. For her sake you would come to care unselfishly and diligently for money instead of being selfishly and lazily indifferent to it. For her sake you would come to care in the same way for preferment. For her sake you would come to care for your health, your appearance, the good opinion of your fellow creatures, and all the really important things that make men work and strive instead of mooning and nursing their salvation. SOAMES. In one word, for the sake of one deadly sin I should come to care for all the others. THE BISHOP. Saint Anthony! Tempt him, Mrs Collins: tempt him. MRS GEORGE [rising and looking strangely before her] Take care, my lord: you still have the power to make me obey your commands. And do you, Mr Sexton, beware of an empty heart. THE BISHOP. Yes. Nature abhors a vacuum, Anthony. I would not dare go about with an empty heart: why, the first girl I met would fly into it by mere atmospheric pressure. Alice keeps them out now. Mrs Collins knows. MRS GEORGE [a faint convulsion passing like a wave over her] I know more than either of you. One of you has not yet exhausted his first love: the other has not yet reached it. But I--I--[she reels and is again convulsed]. THE BISHOP [saving her from falling] Whats the matter? Are you ill, Mrs Collins? [He gets her back into her chair]. Soames: theres a glass of water in the study--quick. [Soames hurries to the study door.] MRS. GEORGE. No. [Soames stops]. Dont call. Dont bring anyone. Cant you hear anything? THE BISHOP. Nothing unusual. [He sits by her, watching her with intense surprise and interest]. MRS GEORGE. No music? SOAMES. No. [He steals to the end of the table and sits on her right, equally interested]. MRS GEORGE. Do you see nothing--not a great light? THE BISHOP. We are still walking in darkness. MRS GEORGE. Put your hand on my forehead: the hand with the ring. [He does so. Her eyes close]. SOAMES [inspired to prophesy] There was a certain woman, the wife of a coal merchant, which had been a great sinner . . . The Bishop, startled, takes his hand away. Mrs George's eyes open vividly as she interrupts Soames. MRS GEORGE. You prophesy falsely, Anthony: never in all my life have I done anything that was not ordained for me. [More quietly] Ive been myself. Ive not been afraid of myself. And at last I have escaped from myself, and am become a voice for them that are afraid to speak, and a cry for the hearts that break in silence. SOAMES [whispering] Is she inspired? THE BISHOP. Marvellous. Hush. MRS GEORGE. I have earned the right to speak. I have dared: I have gone through: I have not fallen withered in the fire: I have come at last out beyond, to the back of Godspeed? THE BISHOP. And what do you see there, at the back of Godspeed? SOAMES [hungrily] Give us your message. MRS GEORGE [with intensely sad reproach] When you loved me I gave you the whole sun and stars to play with. I gave you eternity in a single moment, strength of the mountains in one clasp of your arms, and the volume of all the seas in one impulse of your souls. A moment only; but was it not enough? Were you not paid then for all the rest of your struggle on earth? Must I mend your clothes and sweep your floors as well? Was it not enough? I paid the price without bargaining: I bore the children without flinching: was that a reason for heaping fresh burdens on me? I carried the child in my arms: must I carry the father too? When I opened the gates of paradise, were you blind? was it nothing to you? When all the stars sang in your ears and all the winds swept you into the heart of heaven, were you deaf? were you dull? was I no more to you than a bone to a dog? Was it not enough? We spent eternity together; and you ask me for a little lifetime more. We possessed all the universe together; and you ask me to give you my scanty wages as well. I have given you the greatest of all things; and you ask me to give you little things. I gave you your own soul: you ask me for my body as a plaything. Was it not enough? Was it not enough? SOAMES. Do you understand this, my lord? THE BISHOP. I have that advantage over you, Anthony, thanks to Alice. [He takes Mrs George's hand]. Your hand is very cold. Can you come down to earth? Do you remember who I am, and who you are? MRS GEORGE. It was enough for me. I did not ask to meet you--to touch you--[the Bishop quickly releases her hand]. When you spoke to my soul years ago from your pulpit, you opened the doors of my salvation to me; and now they stand open for ever. It was enough: I have asked you for nothing since: I ask you for nothing now. I have lived: it is enough. I have had my wages; and I am ready for my work. I thank you and bless you and leave you. You are happier in that than I am; for when I do for men what you did for me, I have no thanks, and no blessing: I am their prey; and there is no rest from their loving and no mercy from their loathing. THE BISHOP. You must take us as we are, Mrs Collins. SOAMES. No. Take us as we are capable of becoming. MRS GEORGE. Take me as I am: I ask no more. [She turns her head to the study door and cries] Yes: come in, come in. Hotchkiss comes softly in from the study. HOTCHKISS. Will you be so kind as to tell me whether I am dreaming? In there I have heard Mrs Collins saying the strangest things, and not a syllable from you two. SOAMES. My lord; is this possession by the devil? THE BISHOP. Or the ecstasy of a saint? HOTCHKISS. Or the convulsion of the pythoness on the tripod? THE BISHOP. May not the three be one? MRS GEORGE [troubled] You are paining and tiring me with idle questions. You are dragging me back to myself. You are tormenting me with your evil dreams of saints and devils and--what was it?-- [striving to fathom it] the pythoness--the pythoness--[giving it up] I dont understand. I am a woman: a human creature like yourselves. Will you not take me as I am? SOAMES. Yes; but shall we take you and burn you? THE BISHOP. Or take you and canonize you? HOTCHKISS [gaily] Or take you as a matter of course? [Swiftly to the Bishop] We must get her out of this: it's dangerous. [Aloud to her] May I suggest that you shall be Anthony's devil and the Bishop's saint and my adored Polly? [Slipping behind her, he picks up her hand from her lap and kisses it over her shoulder]. MRS GEORGE [waking] What was that? Who kissed my hand? [To the Bishop, eagerly] Was it you? [He shakes his head. She is mortified]. I beg your pardon. THE BISHOP. Not at all. I'm not repudiating that honor. Allow me [he kisses her hand]. MRS GEORGE. Thank you for that. It was not the sexton, was it? SOAMES. I! HOTCHKISS. It was I, Polly, your ever faithful. MRS GEORGE [turning and seeing him] Let me catch you doing it again: thats all. How do you come there? I sent you away. [With great energy, becoming quite herself again] What the goodness gracious has been happening? HOTCHKISS. As far as I can make out, you have been having a very charming and eloquent sort of fit. MRS GEORGE [delighted] What! My second sight! [To the Bishop] Oh, how I have prayed that it might come to me if ever I met you! And now it has come. How stunning! You may believe every word I said: I cant remember it now; but it was something that was just bursting to be said; and so it laid hold of me and said itself. Thats how it is, you see. Edith and Cecil Sykes come in through the tower. She has her hat on. Leo follows. They have evidently been out together. Sykes, with an unnatural air, half foolish, half rakish, as if he had lost all his self-respect and were determined not to let it prey on his spirits, throws himself into a chair at the end of the table near the hearth and thrusts his hands into his pockets, like Hogarth's Rake, without waiting for Edith to sit down. She sits in the railed chair. Leo takes the chair nearest the tower on the long side of the table, brooding, with closed lips. THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. With Cecil? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding? No reply. Blank silence. SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie. EDITH. Tell them yourself. The General comes in from the garden. THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me with some tobacco? Ive finished mine; and my nerves are still far from settled. THE BISHOP. Wait a moment, Boxer. Cecil has something important to tell us. SYKES. Weve done it. Thats all. HOTCHKISS. Done what, Cecil? SYKES. Well, what do you suppose? EDITH. Got married, of course. THE GENERAL. Married! Who gave you away? SYKES [jerking his head towards the tower] This gentleman did.[Seeing that they do not understand, he looks round and sees that there is no one there]. Oh! I thought he came in with us. Hes gone downstairs, I suppose. The Beadle. THE GENERAL. The Beadle! What the devil did he do that for? SYKES. Oh, I dont know: I didnt make any bargain with him. [To Mrs George] How much ought I to give him, Mrs Collins? MRS GEORGE. Five shillings. [To the Bishop] I want to rest for a moment: there! in your study. I saw it here [she touches her forehead]. THE BISHOP [opening the study door for her] By all means. Turn my brother out if he disturbs you. Soames: bring the letters out here. SYKES. He wont be offended at my offering it, will he? MRS GEORGE. Not he! He touches children with the mace to cure them of ringworm for fourpence apiece. [She goes into the study. Soames follows her]. THE GENERAL. Well, Edith, I'm a little disappointed, I must say. However, I'm glad it was done by somebody in a public uniform. Mrs Bridgenorth and Lesbia come in through the tower. Mrs Bridgenorth makes for the Bishop. He goes to her, and they meet near the oak chest. Lesbia comes between Sykes and Edith. THE BISHOP. Alice, my love, theyre married. MRS BRIDGENORTH [placidly] Oh, well, thats all right. Better tell Collins. Soames comes back from the study with his writing materials. He seats himself at the nearest end of the table and goes on with his work. Hotchkiss sits down in the next chair round the table corner, with his back to him. LESBIA. You have both given in, have you? EDITH. Not at all. We have provided for everything. SOAMES. How? EDITH. Before going to the church, we went to the office of that insurance company--whats its name, Cecil? SYKES. The British Family Insurance Corporation. It insures you against poor relations and all sorts of family contingencies. EDITH. It has consented to insure Cecil against libel actions brought against him on my account. It will give us specially low terms because I am a Bishop's daughter. SYKES. And I have given Edie my solemn word that if I ever commit a crime I'll knock her down before a

fresh

How many times the word 'fresh' appears in the text?

First, he talks as if the only thing of any importance in life was which particular woman he shall marry. Second, he has no self-control. THE GENERAL. Women are not all the same to me, Lesbia. MRS GEORGE. Why should they be, pray? Women are all different: it's the men who are all the same. Besides, what does Miss Grantham know about either men or women? She's got too much self- control. LESBIA [widening her eyes and lifting her chin haughtily] And pray how does that prevent me from knowing as much about men and women as people who have no self-control? MRS GEORGE. Because it frightens people into behaving themselves before you; and then how can you tell what they really are? Look at me! I was a spoilt child. My brothers and sisters were well brought up, like all children of respectable publicans. So should I have been if I hadnt been the youngest: ten years younger than my youngest brother. My parents were tired of doing their duty by their children by that time; and they spoilt me for all they were worth. I never knew what it was to want money or anything that money could buy. When I wanted my own way, I had nothing to do but scream for it till I got it. When I was annoyed I didnt control myself: I scratched and called names. Did you ever, after you were grown up, pull a grown-up woman's hair? Did you ever bite a grown-up man? Did you ever call both of them every name you could lay your tongue to? LESBIA [shivering with disgust] No. MRS GEORGE. Well, I did. I know what a woman is like when her hair's pulled. I know what a man is like when he's bit. I know what theyre both like when you tell them what you really feel about them. And thats how I know more of the world than you. LESBIA. The Chinese know what a man is like when he is cut into a thousand pieces, or boiled in oil. That sort of knowledge is of no use to me. I'm afraid we shall never get on with one another, Mrs George. I live like a fencer, always on guard. I like to be confronted with people who are always on guard. I hate sloppy people, slovenly people, people who cant sit up straight, sentimental people. MRS GEORGE. Oh, sentimental your grandmother! You dont learn to hold your own in the world by standing on guard, but by attacking, and getting well hammered yourself. LESBIA. I'm not a prize-fighter, Mrs. Collins. If I cant get a thing without the indignity of fighting for it, I do without it. MRS GEORGE. Do you? Does it strike you that if we were all as clever as you at doing without, there wouldnt be much to live for, would there? TAE GENERAL. I'm afraid, Lesbia, the things you do without are the things you dont want. LESBIA [surprised at his wit] Thats not bad for the silly soldier man. Yes, Boxer: the truth is, I dont want you enough to make the very unreasonable sacrifices required by marriage. And yet that is exactly why I ought to be married. Just because I have the qualities my country wants most I shall go barren to my grave; whilst the women who have neither the strength to resist marriage nor the intelligence to understand its infinite dishonor will make the England of the future. [She rises and walks towards the study]. THE GENERAL [as she is about to pass him] Well, I shall not ask you again, Lesbia. LESBIA. Thank you, Boxer. [She passes on to the study door]. MRS GEORGE. Youre quite done with him, are you? LESBIA. As far as marriage is concerned, yes. The field is clear for you, Mrs George. [She goes into the study]. The General buries his face in his hands. Mrs George comes round the table to him. MRS GEORGE [sympathetically] She's a nice woman, that. And a sort of beauty about her too, different from anyone else. THE GENERAL [overwhelmed] Oh Mrs Collins, thank you, thank you a thousand times. [He rises effusively]. You have thawed the long- frozen springs [he kisses her hand]. Forgive me; and thank you: bless you--[he again takes refuge in the garden, choked with emotion]. MRS GEORGE [looking after him triumphantly] Just caught the dear old warrior on the bounce, eh? HOTCHKISS. Unfaithful to me already! MRS GEORGE. I'm not your property, young man dont you think it. [She goes over to him and faces him]. You understand that? [He suddenly snatches her into his arms and kisses her]. Oh! You. dare do that again, you young blackguard; and I'll jab one of these chairs in your face [she seizes one and holds it in readiness]. Now you shall not see me for another month. HOTCHKISS [deliberately] I shall pay my first visit to your husband this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. Youll see what he'll say to you when I tell him what youve just done. HOTCHKISS. What can he say? What dare he say? MRS GEORGE. Suppose he kicks you out of the house? HOTCHKISS. How can he? Ive fought seven duels with sabres. Ive muscles of iron. Nothing hurts me: not even broken bones. Fighting is absolutely uninteresting to me because it doesnt frighten me or amuse me; and I always win. Your husband is in all these respects an average man, probably. He will be horribly afraid of me; and if under the stimulus of your presence, and for your sake, and because it is the right thing to do among vulgar people, he were to attack me, I should simply defeat him and humiliate him [he gradually gets his hands on the chair and takes it from her, as his words go home phrase by phrase]. Sooner than expose him to that, you would suffer a thousand stolen kisses, wouldnt you? MRS GEORGE [in utter consternation] You young viper! HOTCHKISS. Ha ha! You are in my power. That is one of the oversights of your code of honor for husbands: the man who can bully them can insult their wives with impunity. Tell him if you dare. If I choose to take ten kisses, how will you prevent me? MRS GEORGE. You come within reach of me and I'll not leave a hair on your head. HOTCHKISS [catching her wrists dexterously] Ive got your hands. MRS GEORGE. Youve not got my teeth. Let go; or I'll bite. I will, I tell you. Let go. HOTCHKISS. Bite away: I shall taste quite as nice as George. MRS GEORGE. You beast. Let me go. Do you call yourself a gentleman, to use your brute strength against a woman? HOTCHKISS. You are stronger than me in every way but this. Do you think I will give up my one advantage? Promise youll receive me when I call this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. After what youve just done? Not if it was to save my life. HOTCHKISS. I'll amuse George. MRS GEORGE. He wont be in. HOTCHKISS [taken aback] Do you mean that we should be alone? MRS GEORGE [snatching away her hands triumphantly as his grasp relaxes] Aha! Thats cooled you, has it? HOTCHKISS [anxiously] When will George be at home? MRS GEORGE. It wont matter to you whether he's at home or not. The door will be slammed in your face whenever you call. HOTCHKISS. No servant in London is strong enough to close a door that I mean to keep open. You cant escape me. If you persist, I'll go into the coal trade; make George's acquaintance on the coal exchange; and coax him to take me home with him to make your acquaintance. MRS GEORGE. We have no use for you, young man: neither George nor I [she sails away from him and sits down at the end of the table near the study door]. HOTCHKISS [following her and taking the next chair round the corner of the table] Yes you have. George cant fight for you: I can. MRS GEORGE [turning to face him] You bully. You low bully. HOTCHKISS. You have courage and fascination: I have courage and a pair of fists. We're both bullies, Polly. MRS GEORGE. You have a mischievous tongue. Thats enough to keep you out of my house. HOTCHKISS. It must be rather a house of cards. A word from me to George--just the right word, said in the right way--and down comes your house. MRS GEORGE. Thats why I'll die sooner than let you into it. HOTCHKISS. Then as surely as you live, I enter the coal trade to- morrow. George's taste for amusing company will deliver him into my hands. Before a month passes your home will be at my mercy. MRS GEORGE [rising, at bay] Do you think I'll let myself be driven into a trap like this? HOTCHKISS. You are in it already. Marriage is a trap. You are married. Any man who has the power to spoil your marriage has the power to spoil your life. I have that power over you. MRS GEORGE [desperate] You mean it? HOTCHKISS. I do. MRS GEORGE [resolutely] Well, spoil my marriage and be-- HOTCHKISS [springing up] Polly! MRS GEORGE. Sooner than be your slave I'd face any unhappiness. HOTCHKISS. What! Even for George? MRS GEORGE. There must be honor between me and George, happiness or no happiness. Do your worst. HOTCHKISS [admiring her] Are you really game, Polly? Dare you defy me? MRS GEORGE. If you ask me another question I shant be able to keep my hands off you [she dashes distractedly past him to the other end of the table, her fingers crisping]. HOTCHKISS. That settles it. Polly: I adore you: we were born for one another. As I happen to be a gentleman, I'll never do anything to annoy or injure you except that I reserve the right to give you a black eye if you bite me; but youll never get rid of me now to the end of your life. MRS GEORGE. I shall get rid of you if the beadle has to brain you with the mace for it [she makes for the tower]. HOTCHKISS [running between the table and the oak chest and across to the tower to cut her off] You shant. MRS GEORGE [panting] Shant I though? HOTCHKISS. No you shant. I have one card left to play that youve forgotten. Why were you so unlike yourself when you spoke to the Bishop? MRS GEORGE [agitated beyond measure] Stop. Not that. You shall respect that if you respect nothing else. I forbid you. [He kneels at her feet]. What are you doing? Get up: dont be a fool. HOTCHKISS. Polly: I ask you on my knees to let me make George's acquaintance in his home this afternoon; and I shall remain on my knees till the Bishop comes in and sees us. What will he think of you then? MRS GEORGE [beside herself] Wheres the poker? She rushes to the fireplace; seizes the poker; and makes for Hotchkiss, who flies to the study door. The Bishop enters just then and finds himself between them, narrowly escaping a blow from the poker. THE BISHOP. Dont hit him, Mrs Collins. He is my guest. Mrs George throws down the poker; collapses into the nearest chair; and bursts into tears. The Bishop goes to her and pats her consolingly on the shoulder. She shudders all through at his touch. THE BISHOP. Come! you are in the house of your friends. Can we help you? MRS GEORGE [to Hotchkiss, pointing to the study] Go in there, you. Youre not wanted here. HOTCHKISS. You understand, Bishop, that Mrs Collins is not to blame for this scene. I'm afraid Ive been rather irritating. THE BISHOP. I can quite believe it, Sinjon. Hotchkiss goes into the study. THE BISHOP [turning to Mrs George with great kindness of manner] I'm sorry you have been worried [he sits down on her left]. Never mind him. A little pluck, a little gaiety of heart, a little prayer; and youll be laughing at him. MRS GEORGE. Never fear. I have all that. It was as much my fault as his; and I should have put him in his place with a clip of that poker on the side of his head if you hadnt come in. THE BISHOP. You might have put him in his coffin that way, Mrs Collins. And I should have been very sorry; because we are all fond of Sinjon. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's your duty to rebuke me. But do you think I dont know? THE BISHOP. I dont rebuke you. Who am I that I should rebuke you? Besides, I know there are discussions in which the poker is the only possible argument. MRS GEORGE. My lord: be earnest with me. I'm a very funny woman, I daresay; but I come from the same workshop as you. I heard you say that yourself years ago. THE BISHOP. Quite so; but then I'm a very funny Bishop. Since we are both funny people, let us not forget that humor is a divine attribute. MRS GEORGE. I know nothing about divine attributes or whatever you call them; but I can feel when I am being belittled. It was from you that I learnt first to respect myself. It was through you that I came to be able to walk safely through many wild and wilful paths. Dont go back on your own teaching. THE BISHOP. I'm not a teacher: only a fellow-traveller of whom you asked the way. I pointed ahead--ahead of myself as well as of you. MRS GEORGE [rising and standing over him almost threateningly] As I'm a living woman this day, if I find you out to be a fraud, I'll kill myself. THE BISHOP. What! Kill yourself for finding out something! For becoming a wiser and therefore a better woman! What a bad reason! MRS GEORGE. I have sometimes thought of killing you, and then killing myself. THE BISHOP. Why on earth should you kill yourself--not to mention me? MRS GEORGE. So that we might keep our assignation in Heaven. THE BISHOP [rising and facing her, breathless] Mrs. Collins! YOU are Incognita Appassionata! MRS GEORGE. You read my letters, then? [With a sigh of grateful relief, she sits down quietly, and says] Thank you. THE BISHOP [remorsefully] And I have broken the spell by making you come here [sitting down again]. Can you ever forgive me? MRS GEORGE. You couldnt know that it was only the coal merchant's wife, could you? THE BISHOP. Why do you say only the coal merchant's wife? MRS GEORGE. Many people would laugh at it. THE BISHOP. Poor people! It's so hard to know the right place to laugh, isnt it? MRS GEORGE. I didnt mean to make you think the letters were from a fine lady. I wrote on cheap paper; and I never could spell. THE BISHOP. Neither could I. So that told me nothing. MRS GEORGE. One thing I should like you to know. THE BISHOP. Yes? MRS GEORGE. We didnt cheat your friend. They were as good as we could do at thirteen shillings a ton. THE BISHOP. Thats important. Thank you for telling me. MRS GEORGE. I have something else to say; but will you please ask somebody to come and stay here while we talk? [He rises and turns to the study door]. Not a woman, if you dont mind. [He nods understandingly and passes on]. Not a man either. THE BISHOP [stopping] Not a man and not a woman! We have no children left, Mrs Collins. They are all grown up and married. MRS GEORGE. That other clergyman would do. THE BISHOP. What! The sexton? MRS GEORGE. Yes. He didnt mind my calling him that, did he? It was only my ignorance. THE BISHOP. Not at all. [He opens the study door and calls] Soames! Anthony! [To Mrs George] Call him Father: he likes it. [Soames appears at the study door]. Mrs Collins wishes you to join us, Anthony. Soames looks puzzled. MRS GEORGE. You dont mind, Dad, do you? [As this greeting visibly gives him a shock that hardly bears out the Bishop's advice, she says anxiously] That was what you told me to call him, wasnt it? SOAMES. I am called Father Anthony, Mrs Collins. But it does not matter what you call me. [He comes in, and walks past her to the hearth]. THE BISHOP. Mrs Collins has something to say to me that she wants you to hear. SOAMES. I am listening. THE BISHOP [going back to his seat next her] Now. MRS GEORGE. My lord: you should never have married. SOAMES. This woman is inspired. Listen to her, my lord. THE BISHOP [taken aback by the directness of the attack] I married because I was so much in love with Alice that all the difficulties and doubts and dangers of marriage seemed to me the merest moonshine. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's mean to let poor things in for so much while theyre in that state. Would you marry now that you know better if you were a widower? THE BISHOP. I'm old now. It wouldnt matter. MRS GEORGE. But would you if it did matter? THE BISHOP. I think I should marry again lest anyone should imagine I had found marriage unhappy with Alice. SOAMES [sternly] Are you fonder of your wife than of your salvation? THE BISHOP. Oh, very much. When you meet a man who is very particular about his salvation, look out for a woman who is very particular about her character; and marry them to one another: theyll make a perfect pair. I advise you to fall in love; Anthony. SOAMES [with horror] I!! THE BISHOP. Yes, you! think of what it would do for you. For her sake you would come to care unselfishly and diligently for money instead of being selfishly and lazily indifferent to it. For her sake you would come to care in the same way for preferment. For her sake you would come to care for your health, your appearance, the good opinion of your fellow creatures, and all the really important things that make men work and strive instead of mooning and nursing their salvation. SOAMES. In one word, for the sake of one deadly sin I should come to care for all the others. THE BISHOP. Saint Anthony! Tempt him, Mrs Collins: tempt him. MRS GEORGE [rising and looking strangely before her] Take care, my lord: you still have the power to make me obey your commands. And do you, Mr Sexton, beware of an empty heart. THE BISHOP. Yes. Nature abhors a vacuum, Anthony. I would not dare go about with an empty heart: why, the first girl I met would fly into it by mere atmospheric pressure. Alice keeps them out now. Mrs Collins knows. MRS GEORGE [a faint convulsion passing like a wave over her] I know more than either of you. One of you has not yet exhausted his first love: the other has not yet reached it. But I--I--[she reels and is again convulsed]. THE BISHOP [saving her from falling] Whats the matter? Are you ill, Mrs Collins? [He gets her back into her chair]. Soames: theres a glass of water in the study--quick. [Soames hurries to the study door.] MRS. GEORGE. No. [Soames stops]. Dont call. Dont bring anyone. Cant you hear anything? THE BISHOP. Nothing unusual. [He sits by her, watching her with intense surprise and interest]. MRS GEORGE. No music? SOAMES. No. [He steals to the end of the table and sits on her right, equally interested]. MRS GEORGE. Do you see nothing--not a great light? THE BISHOP. We are still walking in darkness. MRS GEORGE. Put your hand on my forehead: the hand with the ring. [He does so. Her eyes close]. SOAMES [inspired to prophesy] There was a certain woman, the wife of a coal merchant, which had been a great sinner . . . The Bishop, startled, takes his hand away. Mrs George's eyes open vividly as she interrupts Soames. MRS GEORGE. You prophesy falsely, Anthony: never in all my life have I done anything that was not ordained for me. [More quietly] Ive been myself. Ive not been afraid of myself. And at last I have escaped from myself, and am become a voice for them that are afraid to speak, and a cry for the hearts that break in silence. SOAMES [whispering] Is she inspired? THE BISHOP. Marvellous. Hush. MRS GEORGE. I have earned the right to speak. I have dared: I have gone through: I have not fallen withered in the fire: I have come at last out beyond, to the back of Godspeed? THE BISHOP. And what do you see there, at the back of Godspeed? SOAMES [hungrily] Give us your message. MRS GEORGE [with intensely sad reproach] When you loved me I gave you the whole sun and stars to play with. I gave you eternity in a single moment, strength of the mountains in one clasp of your arms, and the volume of all the seas in one impulse of your souls. A moment only; but was it not enough? Were you not paid then for all the rest of your struggle on earth? Must I mend your clothes and sweep your floors as well? Was it not enough? I paid the price without bargaining: I bore the children without flinching: was that a reason for heaping fresh burdens on me? I carried the child in my arms: must I carry the father too? When I opened the gates of paradise, were you blind? was it nothing to you? When all the stars sang in your ears and all the winds swept you into the heart of heaven, were you deaf? were you dull? was I no more to you than a bone to a dog? Was it not enough? We spent eternity together; and you ask me for a little lifetime more. We possessed all the universe together; and you ask me to give you my scanty wages as well. I have given you the greatest of all things; and you ask me to give you little things. I gave you your own soul: you ask me for my body as a plaything. Was it not enough? Was it not enough? SOAMES. Do you understand this, my lord? THE BISHOP. I have that advantage over you, Anthony, thanks to Alice. [He takes Mrs George's hand]. Your hand is very cold. Can you come down to earth? Do you remember who I am, and who you are? MRS GEORGE. It was enough for me. I did not ask to meet you--to touch you--[the Bishop quickly releases her hand]. When you spoke to my soul years ago from your pulpit, you opened the doors of my salvation to me; and now they stand open for ever. It was enough: I have asked you for nothing since: I ask you for nothing now. I have lived: it is enough. I have had my wages; and I am ready for my work. I thank you and bless you and leave you. You are happier in that than I am; for when I do for men what you did for me, I have no thanks, and no blessing: I am their prey; and there is no rest from their loving and no mercy from their loathing. THE BISHOP. You must take us as we are, Mrs Collins. SOAMES. No. Take us as we are capable of becoming. MRS GEORGE. Take me as I am: I ask no more. [She turns her head to the study door and cries] Yes: come in, come in. Hotchkiss comes softly in from the study. HOTCHKISS. Will you be so kind as to tell me whether I am dreaming? In there I have heard Mrs Collins saying the strangest things, and not a syllable from you two. SOAMES. My lord; is this possession by the devil? THE BISHOP. Or the ecstasy of a saint? HOTCHKISS. Or the convulsion of the pythoness on the tripod? THE BISHOP. May not the three be one? MRS GEORGE [troubled] You are paining and tiring me with idle questions. You are dragging me back to myself. You are tormenting me with your evil dreams of saints and devils and--what was it?-- [striving to fathom it] the pythoness--the pythoness--[giving it up] I dont understand. I am a woman: a human creature like yourselves. Will you not take me as I am? SOAMES. Yes; but shall we take you and burn you? THE BISHOP. Or take you and canonize you? HOTCHKISS [gaily] Or take you as a matter of course? [Swiftly to the Bishop] We must get her out of this: it's dangerous. [Aloud to her] May I suggest that you shall be Anthony's devil and the Bishop's saint and my adored Polly? [Slipping behind her, he picks up her hand from her lap and kisses it over her shoulder]. MRS GEORGE [waking] What was that? Who kissed my hand? [To the Bishop, eagerly] Was it you? [He shakes his head. She is mortified]. I beg your pardon. THE BISHOP. Not at all. I'm not repudiating that honor. Allow me [he kisses her hand]. MRS GEORGE. Thank you for that. It was not the sexton, was it? SOAMES. I! HOTCHKISS. It was I, Polly, your ever faithful. MRS GEORGE [turning and seeing him] Let me catch you doing it again: thats all. How do you come there? I sent you away. [With great energy, becoming quite herself again] What the goodness gracious has been happening? HOTCHKISS. As far as I can make out, you have been having a very charming and eloquent sort of fit. MRS GEORGE [delighted] What! My second sight! [To the Bishop] Oh, how I have prayed that it might come to me if ever I met you! And now it has come. How stunning! You may believe every word I said: I cant remember it now; but it was something that was just bursting to be said; and so it laid hold of me and said itself. Thats how it is, you see. Edith and Cecil Sykes come in through the tower. She has her hat on. Leo follows. They have evidently been out together. Sykes, with an unnatural air, half foolish, half rakish, as if he had lost all his self-respect and were determined not to let it prey on his spirits, throws himself into a chair at the end of the table near the hearth and thrusts his hands into his pockets, like Hogarth's Rake, without waiting for Edith to sit down. She sits in the railed chair. Leo takes the chair nearest the tower on the long side of the table, brooding, with closed lips. THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. With Cecil? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding? No reply. Blank silence. SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie. EDITH. Tell them yourself. The General comes in from the garden. THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me with some tobacco? Ive finished mine; and my nerves are still far from settled. THE BISHOP. Wait a moment, Boxer. Cecil has something important to tell us. SYKES. Weve done it. Thats all. HOTCHKISS. Done what, Cecil? SYKES. Well, what do you suppose? EDITH. Got married, of course. THE GENERAL. Married! Who gave you away? SYKES [jerking his head towards the tower] This gentleman did.[Seeing that they do not understand, he looks round and sees that there is no one there]. Oh! I thought he came in with us. Hes gone downstairs, I suppose. The Beadle. THE GENERAL. The Beadle! What the devil did he do that for? SYKES. Oh, I dont know: I didnt make any bargain with him. [To Mrs George] How much ought I to give him, Mrs Collins? MRS GEORGE. Five shillings. [To the Bishop] I want to rest for a moment: there! in your study. I saw it here [she touches her forehead]. THE BISHOP [opening the study door for her] By all means. Turn my brother out if he disturbs you. Soames: bring the letters out here. SYKES. He wont be offended at my offering it, will he? MRS GEORGE. Not he! He touches children with the mace to cure them of ringworm for fourpence apiece. [She goes into the study. Soames follows her]. THE GENERAL. Well, Edith, I'm a little disappointed, I must say. However, I'm glad it was done by somebody in a public uniform. Mrs Bridgenorth and Lesbia come in through the tower. Mrs Bridgenorth makes for the Bishop. He goes to her, and they meet near the oak chest. Lesbia comes between Sykes and Edith. THE BISHOP. Alice, my love, theyre married. MRS BRIDGENORTH [placidly] Oh, well, thats all right. Better tell Collins. Soames comes back from the study with his writing materials. He seats himself at the nearest end of the table and goes on with his work. Hotchkiss sits down in the next chair round the table corner, with his back to him. LESBIA. You have both given in, have you? EDITH. Not at all. We have provided for everything. SOAMES. How? EDITH. Before going to the church, we went to the office of that insurance company--whats its name, Cecil? SYKES. The British Family Insurance Corporation. It insures you against poor relations and all sorts of family contingencies. EDITH. It has consented to insure Cecil against libel actions brought against him on my account. It will give us specially low terms because I am a Bishop's daughter. SYKES. And I have given Edie my solemn word that if I ever commit a crime I'll knock her down before a

too

How many times the word 'too' appears in the text?

First, he talks as if the only thing of any importance in life was which particular woman he shall marry. Second, he has no self-control. THE GENERAL. Women are not all the same to me, Lesbia. MRS GEORGE. Why should they be, pray? Women are all different: it's the men who are all the same. Besides, what does Miss Grantham know about either men or women? She's got too much self- control. LESBIA [widening her eyes and lifting her chin haughtily] And pray how does that prevent me from knowing as much about men and women as people who have no self-control? MRS GEORGE. Because it frightens people into behaving themselves before you; and then how can you tell what they really are? Look at me! I was a spoilt child. My brothers and sisters were well brought up, like all children of respectable publicans. So should I have been if I hadnt been the youngest: ten years younger than my youngest brother. My parents were tired of doing their duty by their children by that time; and they spoilt me for all they were worth. I never knew what it was to want money or anything that money could buy. When I wanted my own way, I had nothing to do but scream for it till I got it. When I was annoyed I didnt control myself: I scratched and called names. Did you ever, after you were grown up, pull a grown-up woman's hair? Did you ever bite a grown-up man? Did you ever call both of them every name you could lay your tongue to? LESBIA [shivering with disgust] No. MRS GEORGE. Well, I did. I know what a woman is like when her hair's pulled. I know what a man is like when he's bit. I know what theyre both like when you tell them what you really feel about them. And thats how I know more of the world than you. LESBIA. The Chinese know what a man is like when he is cut into a thousand pieces, or boiled in oil. That sort of knowledge is of no use to me. I'm afraid we shall never get on with one another, Mrs George. I live like a fencer, always on guard. I like to be confronted with people who are always on guard. I hate sloppy people, slovenly people, people who cant sit up straight, sentimental people. MRS GEORGE. Oh, sentimental your grandmother! You dont learn to hold your own in the world by standing on guard, but by attacking, and getting well hammered yourself. LESBIA. I'm not a prize-fighter, Mrs. Collins. If I cant get a thing without the indignity of fighting for it, I do without it. MRS GEORGE. Do you? Does it strike you that if we were all as clever as you at doing without, there wouldnt be much to live for, would there? TAE GENERAL. I'm afraid, Lesbia, the things you do without are the things you dont want. LESBIA [surprised at his wit] Thats not bad for the silly soldier man. Yes, Boxer: the truth is, I dont want you enough to make the very unreasonable sacrifices required by marriage. And yet that is exactly why I ought to be married. Just because I have the qualities my country wants most I shall go barren to my grave; whilst the women who have neither the strength to resist marriage nor the intelligence to understand its infinite dishonor will make the England of the future. [She rises and walks towards the study]. THE GENERAL [as she is about to pass him] Well, I shall not ask you again, Lesbia. LESBIA. Thank you, Boxer. [She passes on to the study door]. MRS GEORGE. Youre quite done with him, are you? LESBIA. As far as marriage is concerned, yes. The field is clear for you, Mrs George. [She goes into the study]. The General buries his face in his hands. Mrs George comes round the table to him. MRS GEORGE [sympathetically] She's a nice woman, that. And a sort of beauty about her too, different from anyone else. THE GENERAL [overwhelmed] Oh Mrs Collins, thank you, thank you a thousand times. [He rises effusively]. You have thawed the long- frozen springs [he kisses her hand]. Forgive me; and thank you: bless you--[he again takes refuge in the garden, choked with emotion]. MRS GEORGE [looking after him triumphantly] Just caught the dear old warrior on the bounce, eh? HOTCHKISS. Unfaithful to me already! MRS GEORGE. I'm not your property, young man dont you think it. [She goes over to him and faces him]. You understand that? [He suddenly snatches her into his arms and kisses her]. Oh! You. dare do that again, you young blackguard; and I'll jab one of these chairs in your face [she seizes one and holds it in readiness]. Now you shall not see me for another month. HOTCHKISS [deliberately] I shall pay my first visit to your husband this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. Youll see what he'll say to you when I tell him what youve just done. HOTCHKISS. What can he say? What dare he say? MRS GEORGE. Suppose he kicks you out of the house? HOTCHKISS. How can he? Ive fought seven duels with sabres. Ive muscles of iron. Nothing hurts me: not even broken bones. Fighting is absolutely uninteresting to me because it doesnt frighten me or amuse me; and I always win. Your husband is in all these respects an average man, probably. He will be horribly afraid of me; and if under the stimulus of your presence, and for your sake, and because it is the right thing to do among vulgar people, he were to attack me, I should simply defeat him and humiliate him [he gradually gets his hands on the chair and takes it from her, as his words go home phrase by phrase]. Sooner than expose him to that, you would suffer a thousand stolen kisses, wouldnt you? MRS GEORGE [in utter consternation] You young viper! HOTCHKISS. Ha ha! You are in my power. That is one of the oversights of your code of honor for husbands: the man who can bully them can insult their wives with impunity. Tell him if you dare. If I choose to take ten kisses, how will you prevent me? MRS GEORGE. You come within reach of me and I'll not leave a hair on your head. HOTCHKISS [catching her wrists dexterously] Ive got your hands. MRS GEORGE. Youve not got my teeth. Let go; or I'll bite. I will, I tell you. Let go. HOTCHKISS. Bite away: I shall taste quite as nice as George. MRS GEORGE. You beast. Let me go. Do you call yourself a gentleman, to use your brute strength against a woman? HOTCHKISS. You are stronger than me in every way but this. Do you think I will give up my one advantage? Promise youll receive me when I call this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. After what youve just done? Not if it was to save my life. HOTCHKISS. I'll amuse George. MRS GEORGE. He wont be in. HOTCHKISS [taken aback] Do you mean that we should be alone? MRS GEORGE [snatching away her hands triumphantly as his grasp relaxes] Aha! Thats cooled you, has it? HOTCHKISS [anxiously] When will George be at home? MRS GEORGE. It wont matter to you whether he's at home or not. The door will be slammed in your face whenever you call. HOTCHKISS. No servant in London is strong enough to close a door that I mean to keep open. You cant escape me. If you persist, I'll go into the coal trade; make George's acquaintance on the coal exchange; and coax him to take me home with him to make your acquaintance. MRS GEORGE. We have no use for you, young man: neither George nor I [she sails away from him and sits down at the end of the table near the study door]. HOTCHKISS [following her and taking the next chair round the corner of the table] Yes you have. George cant fight for you: I can. MRS GEORGE [turning to face him] You bully. You low bully. HOTCHKISS. You have courage and fascination: I have courage and a pair of fists. We're both bullies, Polly. MRS GEORGE. You have a mischievous tongue. Thats enough to keep you out of my house. HOTCHKISS. It must be rather a house of cards. A word from me to George--just the right word, said in the right way--and down comes your house. MRS GEORGE. Thats why I'll die sooner than let you into it. HOTCHKISS. Then as surely as you live, I enter the coal trade to- morrow. George's taste for amusing company will deliver him into my hands. Before a month passes your home will be at my mercy. MRS GEORGE [rising, at bay] Do you think I'll let myself be driven into a trap like this? HOTCHKISS. You are in it already. Marriage is a trap. You are married. Any man who has the power to spoil your marriage has the power to spoil your life. I have that power over you. MRS GEORGE [desperate] You mean it? HOTCHKISS. I do. MRS GEORGE [resolutely] Well, spoil my marriage and be-- HOTCHKISS [springing up] Polly! MRS GEORGE. Sooner than be your slave I'd face any unhappiness. HOTCHKISS. What! Even for George? MRS GEORGE. There must be honor between me and George, happiness or no happiness. Do your worst. HOTCHKISS [admiring her] Are you really game, Polly? Dare you defy me? MRS GEORGE. If you ask me another question I shant be able to keep my hands off you [she dashes distractedly past him to the other end of the table, her fingers crisping]. HOTCHKISS. That settles it. Polly: I adore you: we were born for one another. As I happen to be a gentleman, I'll never do anything to annoy or injure you except that I reserve the right to give you a black eye if you bite me; but youll never get rid of me now to the end of your life. MRS GEORGE. I shall get rid of you if the beadle has to brain you with the mace for it [she makes for the tower]. HOTCHKISS [running between the table and the oak chest and across to the tower to cut her off] You shant. MRS GEORGE [panting] Shant I though? HOTCHKISS. No you shant. I have one card left to play that youve forgotten. Why were you so unlike yourself when you spoke to the Bishop? MRS GEORGE [agitated beyond measure] Stop. Not that. You shall respect that if you respect nothing else. I forbid you. [He kneels at her feet]. What are you doing? Get up: dont be a fool. HOTCHKISS. Polly: I ask you on my knees to let me make George's acquaintance in his home this afternoon; and I shall remain on my knees till the Bishop comes in and sees us. What will he think of you then? MRS GEORGE [beside herself] Wheres the poker? She rushes to the fireplace; seizes the poker; and makes for Hotchkiss, who flies to the study door. The Bishop enters just then and finds himself between them, narrowly escaping a blow from the poker. THE BISHOP. Dont hit him, Mrs Collins. He is my guest. Mrs George throws down the poker; collapses into the nearest chair; and bursts into tears. The Bishop goes to her and pats her consolingly on the shoulder. She shudders all through at his touch. THE BISHOP. Come! you are in the house of your friends. Can we help you? MRS GEORGE [to Hotchkiss, pointing to the study] Go in there, you. Youre not wanted here. HOTCHKISS. You understand, Bishop, that Mrs Collins is not to blame for this scene. I'm afraid Ive been rather irritating. THE BISHOP. I can quite believe it, Sinjon. Hotchkiss goes into the study. THE BISHOP [turning to Mrs George with great kindness of manner] I'm sorry you have been worried [he sits down on her left]. Never mind him. A little pluck, a little gaiety of heart, a little prayer; and youll be laughing at him. MRS GEORGE. Never fear. I have all that. It was as much my fault as his; and I should have put him in his place with a clip of that poker on the side of his head if you hadnt come in. THE BISHOP. You might have put him in his coffin that way, Mrs Collins. And I should have been very sorry; because we are all fond of Sinjon. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's your duty to rebuke me. But do you think I dont know? THE BISHOP. I dont rebuke you. Who am I that I should rebuke you? Besides, I know there are discussions in which the poker is the only possible argument. MRS GEORGE. My lord: be earnest with me. I'm a very funny woman, I daresay; but I come from the same workshop as you. I heard you say that yourself years ago. THE BISHOP. Quite so; but then I'm a very funny Bishop. Since we are both funny people, let us not forget that humor is a divine attribute. MRS GEORGE. I know nothing about divine attributes or whatever you call them; but I can feel when I am being belittled. It was from you that I learnt first to respect myself. It was through you that I came to be able to walk safely through many wild and wilful paths. Dont go back on your own teaching. THE BISHOP. I'm not a teacher: only a fellow-traveller of whom you asked the way. I pointed ahead--ahead of myself as well as of you. MRS GEORGE [rising and standing over him almost threateningly] As I'm a living woman this day, if I find you out to be a fraud, I'll kill myself. THE BISHOP. What! Kill yourself for finding out something! For becoming a wiser and therefore a better woman! What a bad reason! MRS GEORGE. I have sometimes thought of killing you, and then killing myself. THE BISHOP. Why on earth should you kill yourself--not to mention me? MRS GEORGE. So that we might keep our assignation in Heaven. THE BISHOP [rising and facing her, breathless] Mrs. Collins! YOU are Incognita Appassionata! MRS GEORGE. You read my letters, then? [With a sigh of grateful relief, she sits down quietly, and says] Thank you. THE BISHOP [remorsefully] And I have broken the spell by making you come here [sitting down again]. Can you ever forgive me? MRS GEORGE. You couldnt know that it was only the coal merchant's wife, could you? THE BISHOP. Why do you say only the coal merchant's wife? MRS GEORGE. Many people would laugh at it. THE BISHOP. Poor people! It's so hard to know the right place to laugh, isnt it? MRS GEORGE. I didnt mean to make you think the letters were from a fine lady. I wrote on cheap paper; and I never could spell. THE BISHOP. Neither could I. So that told me nothing. MRS GEORGE. One thing I should like you to know. THE BISHOP. Yes? MRS GEORGE. We didnt cheat your friend. They were as good as we could do at thirteen shillings a ton. THE BISHOP. Thats important. Thank you for telling me. MRS GEORGE. I have something else to say; but will you please ask somebody to come and stay here while we talk? [He rises and turns to the study door]. Not a woman, if you dont mind. [He nods understandingly and passes on]. Not a man either. THE BISHOP [stopping] Not a man and not a woman! We have no children left, Mrs Collins. They are all grown up and married. MRS GEORGE. That other clergyman would do. THE BISHOP. What! The sexton? MRS GEORGE. Yes. He didnt mind my calling him that, did he? It was only my ignorance. THE BISHOP. Not at all. [He opens the study door and calls] Soames! Anthony! [To Mrs George] Call him Father: he likes it. [Soames appears at the study door]. Mrs Collins wishes you to join us, Anthony. Soames looks puzzled. MRS GEORGE. You dont mind, Dad, do you? [As this greeting visibly gives him a shock that hardly bears out the Bishop's advice, she says anxiously] That was what you told me to call him, wasnt it? SOAMES. I am called Father Anthony, Mrs Collins. But it does not matter what you call me. [He comes in, and walks past her to the hearth]. THE BISHOP. Mrs Collins has something to say to me that she wants you to hear. SOAMES. I am listening. THE BISHOP [going back to his seat next her] Now. MRS GEORGE. My lord: you should never have married. SOAMES. This woman is inspired. Listen to her, my lord. THE BISHOP [taken aback by the directness of the attack] I married because I was so much in love with Alice that all the difficulties and doubts and dangers of marriage seemed to me the merest moonshine. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's mean to let poor things in for so much while theyre in that state. Would you marry now that you know better if you were a widower? THE BISHOP. I'm old now. It wouldnt matter. MRS GEORGE. But would you if it did matter? THE BISHOP. I think I should marry again lest anyone should imagine I had found marriage unhappy with Alice. SOAMES [sternly] Are you fonder of your wife than of your salvation? THE BISHOP. Oh, very much. When you meet a man who is very particular about his salvation, look out for a woman who is very particular about her character; and marry them to one another: theyll make a perfect pair. I advise you to fall in love; Anthony. SOAMES [with horror] I!! THE BISHOP. Yes, you! think of what it would do for you. For her sake you would come to care unselfishly and diligently for money instead of being selfishly and lazily indifferent to it. For her sake you would come to care in the same way for preferment. For her sake you would come to care for your health, your appearance, the good opinion of your fellow creatures, and all the really important things that make men work and strive instead of mooning and nursing their salvation. SOAMES. In one word, for the sake of one deadly sin I should come to care for all the others. THE BISHOP. Saint Anthony! Tempt him, Mrs Collins: tempt him. MRS GEORGE [rising and looking strangely before her] Take care, my lord: you still have the power to make me obey your commands. And do you, Mr Sexton, beware of an empty heart. THE BISHOP. Yes. Nature abhors a vacuum, Anthony. I would not dare go about with an empty heart: why, the first girl I met would fly into it by mere atmospheric pressure. Alice keeps them out now. Mrs Collins knows. MRS GEORGE [a faint convulsion passing like a wave over her] I know more than either of you. One of you has not yet exhausted his first love: the other has not yet reached it. But I--I--[she reels and is again convulsed]. THE BISHOP [saving her from falling] Whats the matter? Are you ill, Mrs Collins? [He gets her back into her chair]. Soames: theres a glass of water in the study--quick. [Soames hurries to the study door.] MRS. GEORGE. No. [Soames stops]. Dont call. Dont bring anyone. Cant you hear anything? THE BISHOP. Nothing unusual. [He sits by her, watching her with intense surprise and interest]. MRS GEORGE. No music? SOAMES. No. [He steals to the end of the table and sits on her right, equally interested]. MRS GEORGE. Do you see nothing--not a great light? THE BISHOP. We are still walking in darkness. MRS GEORGE. Put your hand on my forehead: the hand with the ring. [He does so. Her eyes close]. SOAMES [inspired to prophesy] There was a certain woman, the wife of a coal merchant, which had been a great sinner . . . The Bishop, startled, takes his hand away. Mrs George's eyes open vividly as she interrupts Soames. MRS GEORGE. You prophesy falsely, Anthony: never in all my life have I done anything that was not ordained for me. [More quietly] Ive been myself. Ive not been afraid of myself. And at last I have escaped from myself, and am become a voice for them that are afraid to speak, and a cry for the hearts that break in silence. SOAMES [whispering] Is she inspired? THE BISHOP. Marvellous. Hush. MRS GEORGE. I have earned the right to speak. I have dared: I have gone through: I have not fallen withered in the fire: I have come at last out beyond, to the back of Godspeed? THE BISHOP. And what do you see there, at the back of Godspeed? SOAMES [hungrily] Give us your message. MRS GEORGE [with intensely sad reproach] When you loved me I gave you the whole sun and stars to play with. I gave you eternity in a single moment, strength of the mountains in one clasp of your arms, and the volume of all the seas in one impulse of your souls. A moment only; but was it not enough? Were you not paid then for all the rest of your struggle on earth? Must I mend your clothes and sweep your floors as well? Was it not enough? I paid the price without bargaining: I bore the children without flinching: was that a reason for heaping fresh burdens on me? I carried the child in my arms: must I carry the father too? When I opened the gates of paradise, were you blind? was it nothing to you? When all the stars sang in your ears and all the winds swept you into the heart of heaven, were you deaf? were you dull? was I no more to you than a bone to a dog? Was it not enough? We spent eternity together; and you ask me for a little lifetime more. We possessed all the universe together; and you ask me to give you my scanty wages as well. I have given you the greatest of all things; and you ask me to give you little things. I gave you your own soul: you ask me for my body as a plaything. Was it not enough? Was it not enough? SOAMES. Do you understand this, my lord? THE BISHOP. I have that advantage over you, Anthony, thanks to Alice. [He takes Mrs George's hand]. Your hand is very cold. Can you come down to earth? Do you remember who I am, and who you are? MRS GEORGE. It was enough for me. I did not ask to meet you--to touch you--[the Bishop quickly releases her hand]. When you spoke to my soul years ago from your pulpit, you opened the doors of my salvation to me; and now they stand open for ever. It was enough: I have asked you for nothing since: I ask you for nothing now. I have lived: it is enough. I have had my wages; and I am ready for my work. I thank you and bless you and leave you. You are happier in that than I am; for when I do for men what you did for me, I have no thanks, and no blessing: I am their prey; and there is no rest from their loving and no mercy from their loathing. THE BISHOP. You must take us as we are, Mrs Collins. SOAMES. No. Take us as we are capable of becoming. MRS GEORGE. Take me as I am: I ask no more. [She turns her head to the study door and cries] Yes: come in, come in. Hotchkiss comes softly in from the study. HOTCHKISS. Will you be so kind as to tell me whether I am dreaming? In there I have heard Mrs Collins saying the strangest things, and not a syllable from you two. SOAMES. My lord; is this possession by the devil? THE BISHOP. Or the ecstasy of a saint? HOTCHKISS. Or the convulsion of the pythoness on the tripod? THE BISHOP. May not the three be one? MRS GEORGE [troubled] You are paining and tiring me with idle questions. You are dragging me back to myself. You are tormenting me with your evil dreams of saints and devils and--what was it?-- [striving to fathom it] the pythoness--the pythoness--[giving it up] I dont understand. I am a woman: a human creature like yourselves. Will you not take me as I am? SOAMES. Yes; but shall we take you and burn you? THE BISHOP. Or take you and canonize you? HOTCHKISS [gaily] Or take you as a matter of course? [Swiftly to the Bishop] We must get her out of this: it's dangerous. [Aloud to her] May I suggest that you shall be Anthony's devil and the Bishop's saint and my adored Polly? [Slipping behind her, he picks up her hand from her lap and kisses it over her shoulder]. MRS GEORGE [waking] What was that? Who kissed my hand? [To the Bishop, eagerly] Was it you? [He shakes his head. She is mortified]. I beg your pardon. THE BISHOP. Not at all. I'm not repudiating that honor. Allow me [he kisses her hand]. MRS GEORGE. Thank you for that. It was not the sexton, was it? SOAMES. I! HOTCHKISS. It was I, Polly, your ever faithful. MRS GEORGE [turning and seeing him] Let me catch you doing it again: thats all. How do you come there? I sent you away. [With great energy, becoming quite herself again] What the goodness gracious has been happening? HOTCHKISS. As far as I can make out, you have been having a very charming and eloquent sort of fit. MRS GEORGE [delighted] What! My second sight! [To the Bishop] Oh, how I have prayed that it might come to me if ever I met you! And now it has come. How stunning! You may believe every word I said: I cant remember it now; but it was something that was just bursting to be said; and so it laid hold of me and said itself. Thats how it is, you see. Edith and Cecil Sykes come in through the tower. She has her hat on. Leo follows. They have evidently been out together. Sykes, with an unnatural air, half foolish, half rakish, as if he had lost all his self-respect and were determined not to let it prey on his spirits, throws himself into a chair at the end of the table near the hearth and thrusts his hands into his pockets, like Hogarth's Rake, without waiting for Edith to sit down. She sits in the railed chair. Leo takes the chair nearest the tower on the long side of the table, brooding, with closed lips. THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. With Cecil? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding? No reply. Blank silence. SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie. EDITH. Tell them yourself. The General comes in from the garden. THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me with some tobacco? Ive finished mine; and my nerves are still far from settled. THE BISHOP. Wait a moment, Boxer. Cecil has something important to tell us. SYKES. Weve done it. Thats all. HOTCHKISS. Done what, Cecil? SYKES. Well, what do you suppose? EDITH. Got married, of course. THE GENERAL. Married! Who gave you away? SYKES [jerking his head towards the tower] This gentleman did.[Seeing that they do not understand, he looks round and sees that there is no one there]. Oh! I thought he came in with us. Hes gone downstairs, I suppose. The Beadle. THE GENERAL. The Beadle! What the devil did he do that for? SYKES. Oh, I dont know: I didnt make any bargain with him. [To Mrs George] How much ought I to give him, Mrs Collins? MRS GEORGE. Five shillings. [To the Bishop] I want to rest for a moment: there! in your study. I saw it here [she touches her forehead]. THE BISHOP [opening the study door for her] By all means. Turn my brother out if he disturbs you. Soames: bring the letters out here. SYKES. He wont be offended at my offering it, will he? MRS GEORGE. Not he! He touches children with the mace to cure them of ringworm for fourpence apiece. [She goes into the study. Soames follows her]. THE GENERAL. Well, Edith, I'm a little disappointed, I must say. However, I'm glad it was done by somebody in a public uniform. Mrs Bridgenorth and Lesbia come in through the tower. Mrs Bridgenorth makes for the Bishop. He goes to her, and they meet near the oak chest. Lesbia comes between Sykes and Edith. THE BISHOP. Alice, my love, theyre married. MRS BRIDGENORTH [placidly] Oh, well, thats all right. Better tell Collins. Soames comes back from the study with his writing materials. He seats himself at the nearest end of the table and goes on with his work. Hotchkiss sits down in the next chair round the table corner, with his back to him. LESBIA. You have both given in, have you? EDITH. Not at all. We have provided for everything. SOAMES. How? EDITH. Before going to the church, we went to the office of that insurance company--whats its name, Cecil? SYKES. The British Family Insurance Corporation. It insures you against poor relations and all sorts of family contingencies. EDITH. It has consented to insure Cecil against libel actions brought against him on my account. It will give us specially low terms because I am a Bishop's daughter. SYKES. And I have given Edie my solemn word that if I ever commit a crime I'll knock her down before a

readier

How many times the word 'readier' appears in the text?

First, he talks as if the only thing of any importance in life was which particular woman he shall marry. Second, he has no self-control. THE GENERAL. Women are not all the same to me, Lesbia. MRS GEORGE. Why should they be, pray? Women are all different: it's the men who are all the same. Besides, what does Miss Grantham know about either men or women? She's got too much self- control. LESBIA [widening her eyes and lifting her chin haughtily] And pray how does that prevent me from knowing as much about men and women as people who have no self-control? MRS GEORGE. Because it frightens people into behaving themselves before you; and then how can you tell what they really are? Look at me! I was a spoilt child. My brothers and sisters were well brought up, like all children of respectable publicans. So should I have been if I hadnt been the youngest: ten years younger than my youngest brother. My parents were tired of doing their duty by their children by that time; and they spoilt me for all they were worth. I never knew what it was to want money or anything that money could buy. When I wanted my own way, I had nothing to do but scream for it till I got it. When I was annoyed I didnt control myself: I scratched and called names. Did you ever, after you were grown up, pull a grown-up woman's hair? Did you ever bite a grown-up man? Did you ever call both of them every name you could lay your tongue to? LESBIA [shivering with disgust] No. MRS GEORGE. Well, I did. I know what a woman is like when her hair's pulled. I know what a man is like when he's bit. I know what theyre both like when you tell them what you really feel about them. And thats how I know more of the world than you. LESBIA. The Chinese know what a man is like when he is cut into a thousand pieces, or boiled in oil. That sort of knowledge is of no use to me. I'm afraid we shall never get on with one another, Mrs George. I live like a fencer, always on guard. I like to be confronted with people who are always on guard. I hate sloppy people, slovenly people, people who cant sit up straight, sentimental people. MRS GEORGE. Oh, sentimental your grandmother! You dont learn to hold your own in the world by standing on guard, but by attacking, and getting well hammered yourself. LESBIA. I'm not a prize-fighter, Mrs. Collins. If I cant get a thing without the indignity of fighting for it, I do without it. MRS GEORGE. Do you? Does it strike you that if we were all as clever as you at doing without, there wouldnt be much to live for, would there? TAE GENERAL. I'm afraid, Lesbia, the things you do without are the things you dont want. LESBIA [surprised at his wit] Thats not bad for the silly soldier man. Yes, Boxer: the truth is, I dont want you enough to make the very unreasonable sacrifices required by marriage. And yet that is exactly why I ought to be married. Just because I have the qualities my country wants most I shall go barren to my grave; whilst the women who have neither the strength to resist marriage nor the intelligence to understand its infinite dishonor will make the England of the future. [She rises and walks towards the study]. THE GENERAL [as she is about to pass him] Well, I shall not ask you again, Lesbia. LESBIA. Thank you, Boxer. [She passes on to the study door]. MRS GEORGE. Youre quite done with him, are you? LESBIA. As far as marriage is concerned, yes. The field is clear for you, Mrs George. [She goes into the study]. The General buries his face in his hands. Mrs George comes round the table to him. MRS GEORGE [sympathetically] She's a nice woman, that. And a sort of beauty about her too, different from anyone else. THE GENERAL [overwhelmed] Oh Mrs Collins, thank you, thank you a thousand times. [He rises effusively]. You have thawed the long- frozen springs [he kisses her hand]. Forgive me; and thank you: bless you--[he again takes refuge in the garden, choked with emotion]. MRS GEORGE [looking after him triumphantly] Just caught the dear old warrior on the bounce, eh? HOTCHKISS. Unfaithful to me already! MRS GEORGE. I'm not your property, young man dont you think it. [She goes over to him and faces him]. You understand that? [He suddenly snatches her into his arms and kisses her]. Oh! You. dare do that again, you young blackguard; and I'll jab one of these chairs in your face [she seizes one and holds it in readiness]. Now you shall not see me for another month. HOTCHKISS [deliberately] I shall pay my first visit to your husband this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. Youll see what he'll say to you when I tell him what youve just done. HOTCHKISS. What can he say? What dare he say? MRS GEORGE. Suppose he kicks you out of the house? HOTCHKISS. How can he? Ive fought seven duels with sabres. Ive muscles of iron. Nothing hurts me: not even broken bones. Fighting is absolutely uninteresting to me because it doesnt frighten me or amuse me; and I always win. Your husband is in all these respects an average man, probably. He will be horribly afraid of me; and if under the stimulus of your presence, and for your sake, and because it is the right thing to do among vulgar people, he were to attack me, I should simply defeat him and humiliate him [he gradually gets his hands on the chair and takes it from her, as his words go home phrase by phrase]. Sooner than expose him to that, you would suffer a thousand stolen kisses, wouldnt you? MRS GEORGE [in utter consternation] You young viper! HOTCHKISS. Ha ha! You are in my power. That is one of the oversights of your code of honor for husbands: the man who can bully them can insult their wives with impunity. Tell him if you dare. If I choose to take ten kisses, how will you prevent me? MRS GEORGE. You come within reach of me and I'll not leave a hair on your head. HOTCHKISS [catching her wrists dexterously] Ive got your hands. MRS GEORGE. Youve not got my teeth. Let go; or I'll bite. I will, I tell you. Let go. HOTCHKISS. Bite away: I shall taste quite as nice as George. MRS GEORGE. You beast. Let me go. Do you call yourself a gentleman, to use your brute strength against a woman? HOTCHKISS. You are stronger than me in every way but this. Do you think I will give up my one advantage? Promise youll receive me when I call this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. After what youve just done? Not if it was to save my life. HOTCHKISS. I'll amuse George. MRS GEORGE. He wont be in. HOTCHKISS [taken aback] Do you mean that we should be alone? MRS GEORGE [snatching away her hands triumphantly as his grasp relaxes] Aha! Thats cooled you, has it? HOTCHKISS [anxiously] When will George be at home? MRS GEORGE. It wont matter to you whether he's at home or not. The door will be slammed in your face whenever you call. HOTCHKISS. No servant in London is strong enough to close a door that I mean to keep open. You cant escape me. If you persist, I'll go into the coal trade; make George's acquaintance on the coal exchange; and coax him to take me home with him to make your acquaintance. MRS GEORGE. We have no use for you, young man: neither George nor I [she sails away from him and sits down at the end of the table near the study door]. HOTCHKISS [following her and taking the next chair round the corner of the table] Yes you have. George cant fight for you: I can. MRS GEORGE [turning to face him] You bully. You low bully. HOTCHKISS. You have courage and fascination: I have courage and a pair of fists. We're both bullies, Polly. MRS GEORGE. You have a mischievous tongue. Thats enough to keep you out of my house. HOTCHKISS. It must be rather a house of cards. A word from me to George--just the right word, said in the right way--and down comes your house. MRS GEORGE. Thats why I'll die sooner than let you into it. HOTCHKISS. Then as surely as you live, I enter the coal trade to- morrow. George's taste for amusing company will deliver him into my hands. Before a month passes your home will be at my mercy. MRS GEORGE [rising, at bay] Do you think I'll let myself be driven into a trap like this? HOTCHKISS. You are in it already. Marriage is a trap. You are married. Any man who has the power to spoil your marriage has the power to spoil your life. I have that power over you. MRS GEORGE [desperate] You mean it? HOTCHKISS. I do. MRS GEORGE [resolutely] Well, spoil my marriage and be-- HOTCHKISS [springing up] Polly! MRS GEORGE. Sooner than be your slave I'd face any unhappiness. HOTCHKISS. What! Even for George? MRS GEORGE. There must be honor between me and George, happiness or no happiness. Do your worst. HOTCHKISS [admiring her] Are you really game, Polly? Dare you defy me? MRS GEORGE. If you ask me another question I shant be able to keep my hands off you [she dashes distractedly past him to the other end of the table, her fingers crisping]. HOTCHKISS. That settles it. Polly: I adore you: we were born for one another. As I happen to be a gentleman, I'll never do anything to annoy or injure you except that I reserve the right to give you a black eye if you bite me; but youll never get rid of me now to the end of your life. MRS GEORGE. I shall get rid of you if the beadle has to brain you with the mace for it [she makes for the tower]. HOTCHKISS [running between the table and the oak chest and across to the tower to cut her off] You shant. MRS GEORGE [panting] Shant I though? HOTCHKISS. No you shant. I have one card left to play that youve forgotten. Why were you so unlike yourself when you spoke to the Bishop? MRS GEORGE [agitated beyond measure] Stop. Not that. You shall respect that if you respect nothing else. I forbid you. [He kneels at her feet]. What are you doing? Get up: dont be a fool. HOTCHKISS. Polly: I ask you on my knees to let me make George's acquaintance in his home this afternoon; and I shall remain on my knees till the Bishop comes in and sees us. What will he think of you then? MRS GEORGE [beside herself] Wheres the poker? She rushes to the fireplace; seizes the poker; and makes for Hotchkiss, who flies to the study door. The Bishop enters just then and finds himself between them, narrowly escaping a blow from the poker. THE BISHOP. Dont hit him, Mrs Collins. He is my guest. Mrs George throws down the poker; collapses into the nearest chair; and bursts into tears. The Bishop goes to her and pats her consolingly on the shoulder. She shudders all through at his touch. THE BISHOP. Come! you are in the house of your friends. Can we help you? MRS GEORGE [to Hotchkiss, pointing to the study] Go in there, you. Youre not wanted here. HOTCHKISS. You understand, Bishop, that Mrs Collins is not to blame for this scene. I'm afraid Ive been rather irritating. THE BISHOP. I can quite believe it, Sinjon. Hotchkiss goes into the study. THE BISHOP [turning to Mrs George with great kindness of manner] I'm sorry you have been worried [he sits down on her left]. Never mind him. A little pluck, a little gaiety of heart, a little prayer; and youll be laughing at him. MRS GEORGE. Never fear. I have all that. It was as much my fault as his; and I should have put him in his place with a clip of that poker on the side of his head if you hadnt come in. THE BISHOP. You might have put him in his coffin that way, Mrs Collins. And I should have been very sorry; because we are all fond of Sinjon. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's your duty to rebuke me. But do you think I dont know? THE BISHOP. I dont rebuke you. Who am I that I should rebuke you? Besides, I know there are discussions in which the poker is the only possible argument. MRS GEORGE. My lord: be earnest with me. I'm a very funny woman, I daresay; but I come from the same workshop as you. I heard you say that yourself years ago. THE BISHOP. Quite so; but then I'm a very funny Bishop. Since we are both funny people, let us not forget that humor is a divine attribute. MRS GEORGE. I know nothing about divine attributes or whatever you call them; but I can feel when I am being belittled. It was from you that I learnt first to respect myself. It was through you that I came to be able to walk safely through many wild and wilful paths. Dont go back on your own teaching. THE BISHOP. I'm not a teacher: only a fellow-traveller of whom you asked the way. I pointed ahead--ahead of myself as well as of you. MRS GEORGE [rising and standing over him almost threateningly] As I'm a living woman this day, if I find you out to be a fraud, I'll kill myself. THE BISHOP. What! Kill yourself for finding out something! For becoming a wiser and therefore a better woman! What a bad reason! MRS GEORGE. I have sometimes thought of killing you, and then killing myself. THE BISHOP. Why on earth should you kill yourself--not to mention me? MRS GEORGE. So that we might keep our assignation in Heaven. THE BISHOP [rising and facing her, breathless] Mrs. Collins! YOU are Incognita Appassionata! MRS GEORGE. You read my letters, then? [With a sigh of grateful relief, she sits down quietly, and says] Thank you. THE BISHOP [remorsefully] And I have broken the spell by making you come here [sitting down again]. Can you ever forgive me? MRS GEORGE. You couldnt know that it was only the coal merchant's wife, could you? THE BISHOP. Why do you say only the coal merchant's wife? MRS GEORGE. Many people would laugh at it. THE BISHOP. Poor people! It's so hard to know the right place to laugh, isnt it? MRS GEORGE. I didnt mean to make you think the letters were from a fine lady. I wrote on cheap paper; and I never could spell. THE BISHOP. Neither could I. So that told me nothing. MRS GEORGE. One thing I should like you to know. THE BISHOP. Yes? MRS GEORGE. We didnt cheat your friend. They were as good as we could do at thirteen shillings a ton. THE BISHOP. Thats important. Thank you for telling me. MRS GEORGE. I have something else to say; but will you please ask somebody to come and stay here while we talk? [He rises and turns to the study door]. Not a woman, if you dont mind. [He nods understandingly and passes on]. Not a man either. THE BISHOP [stopping] Not a man and not a woman! We have no children left, Mrs Collins. They are all grown up and married. MRS GEORGE. That other clergyman would do. THE BISHOP. What! The sexton? MRS GEORGE. Yes. He didnt mind my calling him that, did he? It was only my ignorance. THE BISHOP. Not at all. [He opens the study door and calls] Soames! Anthony! [To Mrs George] Call him Father: he likes it. [Soames appears at the study door]. Mrs Collins wishes you to join us, Anthony. Soames looks puzzled. MRS GEORGE. You dont mind, Dad, do you? [As this greeting visibly gives him a shock that hardly bears out the Bishop's advice, she says anxiously] That was what you told me to call him, wasnt it? SOAMES. I am called Father Anthony, Mrs Collins. But it does not matter what you call me. [He comes in, and walks past her to the hearth]. THE BISHOP. Mrs Collins has something to say to me that she wants you to hear. SOAMES. I am listening. THE BISHOP [going back to his seat next her] Now. MRS GEORGE. My lord: you should never have married. SOAMES. This woman is inspired. Listen to her, my lord. THE BISHOP [taken aback by the directness of the attack] I married because I was so much in love with Alice that all the difficulties and doubts and dangers of marriage seemed to me the merest moonshine. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's mean to let poor things in for so much while theyre in that state. Would you marry now that you know better if you were a widower? THE BISHOP. I'm old now. It wouldnt matter. MRS GEORGE. But would you if it did matter? THE BISHOP. I think I should marry again lest anyone should imagine I had found marriage unhappy with Alice. SOAMES [sternly] Are you fonder of your wife than of your salvation? THE BISHOP. Oh, very much. When you meet a man who is very particular about his salvation, look out for a woman who is very particular about her character; and marry them to one another: theyll make a perfect pair. I advise you to fall in love; Anthony. SOAMES [with horror] I!! THE BISHOP. Yes, you! think of what it would do for you. For her sake you would come to care unselfishly and diligently for money instead of being selfishly and lazily indifferent to it. For her sake you would come to care in the same way for preferment. For her sake you would come to care for your health, your appearance, the good opinion of your fellow creatures, and all the really important things that make men work and strive instead of mooning and nursing their salvation. SOAMES. In one word, for the sake of one deadly sin I should come to care for all the others. THE BISHOP. Saint Anthony! Tempt him, Mrs Collins: tempt him. MRS GEORGE [rising and looking strangely before her] Take care, my lord: you still have the power to make me obey your commands. And do you, Mr Sexton, beware of an empty heart. THE BISHOP. Yes. Nature abhors a vacuum, Anthony. I would not dare go about with an empty heart: why, the first girl I met would fly into it by mere atmospheric pressure. Alice keeps them out now. Mrs Collins knows. MRS GEORGE [a faint convulsion passing like a wave over her] I know more than either of you. One of you has not yet exhausted his first love: the other has not yet reached it. But I--I--[she reels and is again convulsed]. THE BISHOP [saving her from falling] Whats the matter? Are you ill, Mrs Collins? [He gets her back into her chair]. Soames: theres a glass of water in the study--quick. [Soames hurries to the study door.] MRS. GEORGE. No. [Soames stops]. Dont call. Dont bring anyone. Cant you hear anything? THE BISHOP. Nothing unusual. [He sits by her, watching her with intense surprise and interest]. MRS GEORGE. No music? SOAMES. No. [He steals to the end of the table and sits on her right, equally interested]. MRS GEORGE. Do you see nothing--not a great light? THE BISHOP. We are still walking in darkness. MRS GEORGE. Put your hand on my forehead: the hand with the ring. [He does so. Her eyes close]. SOAMES [inspired to prophesy] There was a certain woman, the wife of a coal merchant, which had been a great sinner . . . The Bishop, startled, takes his hand away. Mrs George's eyes open vividly as she interrupts Soames. MRS GEORGE. You prophesy falsely, Anthony: never in all my life have I done anything that was not ordained for me. [More quietly] Ive been myself. Ive not been afraid of myself. And at last I have escaped from myself, and am become a voice for them that are afraid to speak, and a cry for the hearts that break in silence. SOAMES [whispering] Is she inspired? THE BISHOP. Marvellous. Hush. MRS GEORGE. I have earned the right to speak. I have dared: I have gone through: I have not fallen withered in the fire: I have come at last out beyond, to the back of Godspeed? THE BISHOP. And what do you see there, at the back of Godspeed? SOAMES [hungrily] Give us your message. MRS GEORGE [with intensely sad reproach] When you loved me I gave you the whole sun and stars to play with. I gave you eternity in a single moment, strength of the mountains in one clasp of your arms, and the volume of all the seas in one impulse of your souls. A moment only; but was it not enough? Were you not paid then for all the rest of your struggle on earth? Must I mend your clothes and sweep your floors as well? Was it not enough? I paid the price without bargaining: I bore the children without flinching: was that a reason for heaping fresh burdens on me? I carried the child in my arms: must I carry the father too? When I opened the gates of paradise, were you blind? was it nothing to you? When all the stars sang in your ears and all the winds swept you into the heart of heaven, were you deaf? were you dull? was I no more to you than a bone to a dog? Was it not enough? We spent eternity together; and you ask me for a little lifetime more. We possessed all the universe together; and you ask me to give you my scanty wages as well. I have given you the greatest of all things; and you ask me to give you little things. I gave you your own soul: you ask me for my body as a plaything. Was it not enough? Was it not enough? SOAMES. Do you understand this, my lord? THE BISHOP. I have that advantage over you, Anthony, thanks to Alice. [He takes Mrs George's hand]. Your hand is very cold. Can you come down to earth? Do you remember who I am, and who you are? MRS GEORGE. It was enough for me. I did not ask to meet you--to touch you--[the Bishop quickly releases her hand]. When you spoke to my soul years ago from your pulpit, you opened the doors of my salvation to me; and now they stand open for ever. It was enough: I have asked you for nothing since: I ask you for nothing now. I have lived: it is enough. I have had my wages; and I am ready for my work. I thank you and bless you and leave you. You are happier in that than I am; for when I do for men what you did for me, I have no thanks, and no blessing: I am their prey; and there is no rest from their loving and no mercy from their loathing. THE BISHOP. You must take us as we are, Mrs Collins. SOAMES. No. Take us as we are capable of becoming. MRS GEORGE. Take me as I am: I ask no more. [She turns her head to the study door and cries] Yes: come in, come in. Hotchkiss comes softly in from the study. HOTCHKISS. Will you be so kind as to tell me whether I am dreaming? In there I have heard Mrs Collins saying the strangest things, and not a syllable from you two. SOAMES. My lord; is this possession by the devil? THE BISHOP. Or the ecstasy of a saint? HOTCHKISS. Or the convulsion of the pythoness on the tripod? THE BISHOP. May not the three be one? MRS GEORGE [troubled] You are paining and tiring me with idle questions. You are dragging me back to myself. You are tormenting me with your evil dreams of saints and devils and--what was it?-- [striving to fathom it] the pythoness--the pythoness--[giving it up] I dont understand. I am a woman: a human creature like yourselves. Will you not take me as I am? SOAMES. Yes; but shall we take you and burn you? THE BISHOP. Or take you and canonize you? HOTCHKISS [gaily] Or take you as a matter of course? [Swiftly to the Bishop] We must get her out of this: it's dangerous. [Aloud to her] May I suggest that you shall be Anthony's devil and the Bishop's saint and my adored Polly? [Slipping behind her, he picks up her hand from her lap and kisses it over her shoulder]. MRS GEORGE [waking] What was that? Who kissed my hand? [To the Bishop, eagerly] Was it you? [He shakes his head. She is mortified]. I beg your pardon. THE BISHOP. Not at all. I'm not repudiating that honor. Allow me [he kisses her hand]. MRS GEORGE. Thank you for that. It was not the sexton, was it? SOAMES. I! HOTCHKISS. It was I, Polly, your ever faithful. MRS GEORGE [turning and seeing him] Let me catch you doing it again: thats all. How do you come there? I sent you away. [With great energy, becoming quite herself again] What the goodness gracious has been happening? HOTCHKISS. As far as I can make out, you have been having a very charming and eloquent sort of fit. MRS GEORGE [delighted] What! My second sight! [To the Bishop] Oh, how I have prayed that it might come to me if ever I met you! And now it has come. How stunning! You may believe every word I said: I cant remember it now; but it was something that was just bursting to be said; and so it laid hold of me and said itself. Thats how it is, you see. Edith and Cecil Sykes come in through the tower. She has her hat on. Leo follows. They have evidently been out together. Sykes, with an unnatural air, half foolish, half rakish, as if he had lost all his self-respect and were determined not to let it prey on his spirits, throws himself into a chair at the end of the table near the hearth and thrusts his hands into his pockets, like Hogarth's Rake, without waiting for Edith to sit down. She sits in the railed chair. Leo takes the chair nearest the tower on the long side of the table, brooding, with closed lips. THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. With Cecil? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding? No reply. Blank silence. SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie. EDITH. Tell them yourself. The General comes in from the garden. THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me with some tobacco? Ive finished mine; and my nerves are still far from settled. THE BISHOP. Wait a moment, Boxer. Cecil has something important to tell us. SYKES. Weve done it. Thats all. HOTCHKISS. Done what, Cecil? SYKES. Well, what do you suppose? EDITH. Got married, of course. THE GENERAL. Married! Who gave you away? SYKES [jerking his head towards the tower] This gentleman did.[Seeing that they do not understand, he looks round and sees that there is no one there]. Oh! I thought he came in with us. Hes gone downstairs, I suppose. The Beadle. THE GENERAL. The Beadle! What the devil did he do that for? SYKES. Oh, I dont know: I didnt make any bargain with him. [To Mrs George] How much ought I to give him, Mrs Collins? MRS GEORGE. Five shillings. [To the Bishop] I want to rest for a moment: there! in your study. I saw it here [she touches her forehead]. THE BISHOP [opening the study door for her] By all means. Turn my brother out if he disturbs you. Soames: bring the letters out here. SYKES. He wont be offended at my offering it, will he? MRS GEORGE. Not he! He touches children with the mace to cure them of ringworm for fourpence apiece. [She goes into the study. Soames follows her]. THE GENERAL. Well, Edith, I'm a little disappointed, I must say. However, I'm glad it was done by somebody in a public uniform. Mrs Bridgenorth and Lesbia come in through the tower. Mrs Bridgenorth makes for the Bishop. He goes to her, and they meet near the oak chest. Lesbia comes between Sykes and Edith. THE BISHOP. Alice, my love, theyre married. MRS BRIDGENORTH [placidly] Oh, well, thats all right. Better tell Collins. Soames comes back from the study with his writing materials. He seats himself at the nearest end of the table and goes on with his work. Hotchkiss sits down in the next chair round the table corner, with his back to him. LESBIA. You have both given in, have you? EDITH. Not at all. We have provided for everything. SOAMES. How? EDITH. Before going to the church, we went to the office of that insurance company--whats its name, Cecil? SYKES. The British Family Insurance Corporation. It insures you against poor relations and all sorts of family contingencies. EDITH. It has consented to insure Cecil against libel actions brought against him on my account. It will give us specially low terms because I am a Bishop's daughter. SYKES. And I have given Edie my solemn word that if I ever commit a crime I'll knock her down before a

alice

How many times the word 'alice' appears in the text?

First, he talks as if the only thing of any importance in life was which particular woman he shall marry. Second, he has no self-control. THE GENERAL. Women are not all the same to me, Lesbia. MRS GEORGE. Why should they be, pray? Women are all different: it's the men who are all the same. Besides, what does Miss Grantham know about either men or women? She's got too much self- control. LESBIA [widening her eyes and lifting her chin haughtily] And pray how does that prevent me from knowing as much about men and women as people who have no self-control? MRS GEORGE. Because it frightens people into behaving themselves before you; and then how can you tell what they really are? Look at me! I was a spoilt child. My brothers and sisters were well brought up, like all children of respectable publicans. So should I have been if I hadnt been the youngest: ten years younger than my youngest brother. My parents were tired of doing their duty by their children by that time; and they spoilt me for all they were worth. I never knew what it was to want money or anything that money could buy. When I wanted my own way, I had nothing to do but scream for it till I got it. When I was annoyed I didnt control myself: I scratched and called names. Did you ever, after you were grown up, pull a grown-up woman's hair? Did you ever bite a grown-up man? Did you ever call both of them every name you could lay your tongue to? LESBIA [shivering with disgust] No. MRS GEORGE. Well, I did. I know what a woman is like when her hair's pulled. I know what a man is like when he's bit. I know what theyre both like when you tell them what you really feel about them. And thats how I know more of the world than you. LESBIA. The Chinese know what a man is like when he is cut into a thousand pieces, or boiled in oil. That sort of knowledge is of no use to me. I'm afraid we shall never get on with one another, Mrs George. I live like a fencer, always on guard. I like to be confronted with people who are always on guard. I hate sloppy people, slovenly people, people who cant sit up straight, sentimental people. MRS GEORGE. Oh, sentimental your grandmother! You dont learn to hold your own in the world by standing on guard, but by attacking, and getting well hammered yourself. LESBIA. I'm not a prize-fighter, Mrs. Collins. If I cant get a thing without the indignity of fighting for it, I do without it. MRS GEORGE. Do you? Does it strike you that if we were all as clever as you at doing without, there wouldnt be much to live for, would there? TAE GENERAL. I'm afraid, Lesbia, the things you do without are the things you dont want. LESBIA [surprised at his wit] Thats not bad for the silly soldier man. Yes, Boxer: the truth is, I dont want you enough to make the very unreasonable sacrifices required by marriage. And yet that is exactly why I ought to be married. Just because I have the qualities my country wants most I shall go barren to my grave; whilst the women who have neither the strength to resist marriage nor the intelligence to understand its infinite dishonor will make the England of the future. [She rises and walks towards the study]. THE GENERAL [as she is about to pass him] Well, I shall not ask you again, Lesbia. LESBIA. Thank you, Boxer. [She passes on to the study door]. MRS GEORGE. Youre quite done with him, are you? LESBIA. As far as marriage is concerned, yes. The field is clear for you, Mrs George. [She goes into the study]. The General buries his face in his hands. Mrs George comes round the table to him. MRS GEORGE [sympathetically] She's a nice woman, that. And a sort of beauty about her too, different from anyone else. THE GENERAL [overwhelmed] Oh Mrs Collins, thank you, thank you a thousand times. [He rises effusively]. You have thawed the long- frozen springs [he kisses her hand]. Forgive me; and thank you: bless you--[he again takes refuge in the garden, choked with emotion]. MRS GEORGE [looking after him triumphantly] Just caught the dear old warrior on the bounce, eh? HOTCHKISS. Unfaithful to me already! MRS GEORGE. I'm not your property, young man dont you think it. [She goes over to him and faces him]. You understand that? [He suddenly snatches her into his arms and kisses her]. Oh! You. dare do that again, you young blackguard; and I'll jab one of these chairs in your face [she seizes one and holds it in readiness]. Now you shall not see me for another month. HOTCHKISS [deliberately] I shall pay my first visit to your husband this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. Youll see what he'll say to you when I tell him what youve just done. HOTCHKISS. What can he say? What dare he say? MRS GEORGE. Suppose he kicks you out of the house? HOTCHKISS. How can he? Ive fought seven duels with sabres. Ive muscles of iron. Nothing hurts me: not even broken bones. Fighting is absolutely uninteresting to me because it doesnt frighten me or amuse me; and I always win. Your husband is in all these respects an average man, probably. He will be horribly afraid of me; and if under the stimulus of your presence, and for your sake, and because it is the right thing to do among vulgar people, he were to attack me, I should simply defeat him and humiliate him [he gradually gets his hands on the chair and takes it from her, as his words go home phrase by phrase]. Sooner than expose him to that, you would suffer a thousand stolen kisses, wouldnt you? MRS GEORGE [in utter consternation] You young viper! HOTCHKISS. Ha ha! You are in my power. That is one of the oversights of your code of honor for husbands: the man who can bully them can insult their wives with impunity. Tell him if you dare. If I choose to take ten kisses, how will you prevent me? MRS GEORGE. You come within reach of me and I'll not leave a hair on your head. HOTCHKISS [catching her wrists dexterously] Ive got your hands. MRS GEORGE. Youve not got my teeth. Let go; or I'll bite. I will, I tell you. Let go. HOTCHKISS. Bite away: I shall taste quite as nice as George. MRS GEORGE. You beast. Let me go. Do you call yourself a gentleman, to use your brute strength against a woman? HOTCHKISS. You are stronger than me in every way but this. Do you think I will give up my one advantage? Promise youll receive me when I call this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. After what youve just done? Not if it was to save my life. HOTCHKISS. I'll amuse George. MRS GEORGE. He wont be in. HOTCHKISS [taken aback] Do you mean that we should be alone? MRS GEORGE [snatching away her hands triumphantly as his grasp relaxes] Aha! Thats cooled you, has it? HOTCHKISS [anxiously] When will George be at home? MRS GEORGE. It wont matter to you whether he's at home or not. The door will be slammed in your face whenever you call. HOTCHKISS. No servant in London is strong enough to close a door that I mean to keep open. You cant escape me. If you persist, I'll go into the coal trade; make George's acquaintance on the coal exchange; and coax him to take me home with him to make your acquaintance. MRS GEORGE. We have no use for you, young man: neither George nor I [she sails away from him and sits down at the end of the table near the study door]. HOTCHKISS [following her and taking the next chair round the corner of the table] Yes you have. George cant fight for you: I can. MRS GEORGE [turning to face him] You bully. You low bully. HOTCHKISS. You have courage and fascination: I have courage and a pair of fists. We're both bullies, Polly. MRS GEORGE. You have a mischievous tongue. Thats enough to keep you out of my house. HOTCHKISS. It must be rather a house of cards. A word from me to George--just the right word, said in the right way--and down comes your house. MRS GEORGE. Thats why I'll die sooner than let you into it. HOTCHKISS. Then as surely as you live, I enter the coal trade to- morrow. George's taste for amusing company will deliver him into my hands. Before a month passes your home will be at my mercy. MRS GEORGE [rising, at bay] Do you think I'll let myself be driven into a trap like this? HOTCHKISS. You are in it already. Marriage is a trap. You are married. Any man who has the power to spoil your marriage has the power to spoil your life. I have that power over you. MRS GEORGE [desperate] You mean it? HOTCHKISS. I do. MRS GEORGE [resolutely] Well, spoil my marriage and be-- HOTCHKISS [springing up] Polly! MRS GEORGE. Sooner than be your slave I'd face any unhappiness. HOTCHKISS. What! Even for George? MRS GEORGE. There must be honor between me and George, happiness or no happiness. Do your worst. HOTCHKISS [admiring her] Are you really game, Polly? Dare you defy me? MRS GEORGE. If you ask me another question I shant be able to keep my hands off you [she dashes distractedly past him to the other end of the table, her fingers crisping]. HOTCHKISS. That settles it. Polly: I adore you: we were born for one another. As I happen to be a gentleman, I'll never do anything to annoy or injure you except that I reserve the right to give you a black eye if you bite me; but youll never get rid of me now to the end of your life. MRS GEORGE. I shall get rid of you if the beadle has to brain you with the mace for it [she makes for the tower]. HOTCHKISS [running between the table and the oak chest and across to the tower to cut her off] You shant. MRS GEORGE [panting] Shant I though? HOTCHKISS. No you shant. I have one card left to play that youve forgotten. Why were you so unlike yourself when you spoke to the Bishop? MRS GEORGE [agitated beyond measure] Stop. Not that. You shall respect that if you respect nothing else. I forbid you. [He kneels at her feet]. What are you doing? Get up: dont be a fool. HOTCHKISS. Polly: I ask you on my knees to let me make George's acquaintance in his home this afternoon; and I shall remain on my knees till the Bishop comes in and sees us. What will he think of you then? MRS GEORGE [beside herself] Wheres the poker? She rushes to the fireplace; seizes the poker; and makes for Hotchkiss, who flies to the study door. The Bishop enters just then and finds himself between them, narrowly escaping a blow from the poker. THE BISHOP. Dont hit him, Mrs Collins. He is my guest. Mrs George throws down the poker; collapses into the nearest chair; and bursts into tears. The Bishop goes to her and pats her consolingly on the shoulder. She shudders all through at his touch. THE BISHOP. Come! you are in the house of your friends. Can we help you? MRS GEORGE [to Hotchkiss, pointing to the study] Go in there, you. Youre not wanted here. HOTCHKISS. You understand, Bishop, that Mrs Collins is not to blame for this scene. I'm afraid Ive been rather irritating. THE BISHOP. I can quite believe it, Sinjon. Hotchkiss goes into the study. THE BISHOP [turning to Mrs George with great kindness of manner] I'm sorry you have been worried [he sits down on her left]. Never mind him. A little pluck, a little gaiety of heart, a little prayer; and youll be laughing at him. MRS GEORGE. Never fear. I have all that. It was as much my fault as his; and I should have put him in his place with a clip of that poker on the side of his head if you hadnt come in. THE BISHOP. You might have put him in his coffin that way, Mrs Collins. And I should have been very sorry; because we are all fond of Sinjon. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's your duty to rebuke me. But do you think I dont know? THE BISHOP. I dont rebuke you. Who am I that I should rebuke you? Besides, I know there are discussions in which the poker is the only possible argument. MRS GEORGE. My lord: be earnest with me. I'm a very funny woman, I daresay; but I come from the same workshop as you. I heard you say that yourself years ago. THE BISHOP. Quite so; but then I'm a very funny Bishop. Since we are both funny people, let us not forget that humor is a divine attribute. MRS GEORGE. I know nothing about divine attributes or whatever you call them; but I can feel when I am being belittled. It was from you that I learnt first to respect myself. It was through you that I came to be able to walk safely through many wild and wilful paths. Dont go back on your own teaching. THE BISHOP. I'm not a teacher: only a fellow-traveller of whom you asked the way. I pointed ahead--ahead of myself as well as of you. MRS GEORGE [rising and standing over him almost threateningly] As I'm a living woman this day, if I find you out to be a fraud, I'll kill myself. THE BISHOP. What! Kill yourself for finding out something! For becoming a wiser and therefore a better woman! What a bad reason! MRS GEORGE. I have sometimes thought of killing you, and then killing myself. THE BISHOP. Why on earth should you kill yourself--not to mention me? MRS GEORGE. So that we might keep our assignation in Heaven. THE BISHOP [rising and facing her, breathless] Mrs. Collins! YOU are Incognita Appassionata! MRS GEORGE. You read my letters, then? [With a sigh of grateful relief, she sits down quietly, and says] Thank you. THE BISHOP [remorsefully] And I have broken the spell by making you come here [sitting down again]. Can you ever forgive me? MRS GEORGE. You couldnt know that it was only the coal merchant's wife, could you? THE BISHOP. Why do you say only the coal merchant's wife? MRS GEORGE. Many people would laugh at it. THE BISHOP. Poor people! It's so hard to know the right place to laugh, isnt it? MRS GEORGE. I didnt mean to make you think the letters were from a fine lady. I wrote on cheap paper; and I never could spell. THE BISHOP. Neither could I. So that told me nothing. MRS GEORGE. One thing I should like you to know. THE BISHOP. Yes? MRS GEORGE. We didnt cheat your friend. They were as good as we could do at thirteen shillings a ton. THE BISHOP. Thats important. Thank you for telling me. MRS GEORGE. I have something else to say; but will you please ask somebody to come and stay here while we talk? [He rises and turns to the study door]. Not a woman, if you dont mind. [He nods understandingly and passes on]. Not a man either. THE BISHOP [stopping] Not a man and not a woman! We have no children left, Mrs Collins. They are all grown up and married. MRS GEORGE. That other clergyman would do. THE BISHOP. What! The sexton? MRS GEORGE. Yes. He didnt mind my calling him that, did he? It was only my ignorance. THE BISHOP. Not at all. [He opens the study door and calls] Soames! Anthony! [To Mrs George] Call him Father: he likes it. [Soames appears at the study door]. Mrs Collins wishes you to join us, Anthony. Soames looks puzzled. MRS GEORGE. You dont mind, Dad, do you? [As this greeting visibly gives him a shock that hardly bears out the Bishop's advice, she says anxiously] That was what you told me to call him, wasnt it? SOAMES. I am called Father Anthony, Mrs Collins. But it does not matter what you call me. [He comes in, and walks past her to the hearth]. THE BISHOP. Mrs Collins has something to say to me that she wants you to hear. SOAMES. I am listening. THE BISHOP [going back to his seat next her] Now. MRS GEORGE. My lord: you should never have married. SOAMES. This woman is inspired. Listen to her, my lord. THE BISHOP [taken aback by the directness of the attack] I married because I was so much in love with Alice that all the difficulties and doubts and dangers of marriage seemed to me the merest moonshine. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's mean to let poor things in for so much while theyre in that state. Would you marry now that you know better if you were a widower? THE BISHOP. I'm old now. It wouldnt matter. MRS GEORGE. But would you if it did matter? THE BISHOP. I think I should marry again lest anyone should imagine I had found marriage unhappy with Alice. SOAMES [sternly] Are you fonder of your wife than of your salvation? THE BISHOP. Oh, very much. When you meet a man who is very particular about his salvation, look out for a woman who is very particular about her character; and marry them to one another: theyll make a perfect pair. I advise you to fall in love; Anthony. SOAMES [with horror] I!! THE BISHOP. Yes, you! think of what it would do for you. For her sake you would come to care unselfishly and diligently for money instead of being selfishly and lazily indifferent to it. For her sake you would come to care in the same way for preferment. For her sake you would come to care for your health, your appearance, the good opinion of your fellow creatures, and all the really important things that make men work and strive instead of mooning and nursing their salvation. SOAMES. In one word, for the sake of one deadly sin I should come to care for all the others. THE BISHOP. Saint Anthony! Tempt him, Mrs Collins: tempt him. MRS GEORGE [rising and looking strangely before her] Take care, my lord: you still have the power to make me obey your commands. And do you, Mr Sexton, beware of an empty heart. THE BISHOP. Yes. Nature abhors a vacuum, Anthony. I would not dare go about with an empty heart: why, the first girl I met would fly into it by mere atmospheric pressure. Alice keeps them out now. Mrs Collins knows. MRS GEORGE [a faint convulsion passing like a wave over her] I know more than either of you. One of you has not yet exhausted his first love: the other has not yet reached it. But I--I--[she reels and is again convulsed]. THE BISHOP [saving her from falling] Whats the matter? Are you ill, Mrs Collins? [He gets her back into her chair]. Soames: theres a glass of water in the study--quick. [Soames hurries to the study door.] MRS. GEORGE. No. [Soames stops]. Dont call. Dont bring anyone. Cant you hear anything? THE BISHOP. Nothing unusual. [He sits by her, watching her with intense surprise and interest]. MRS GEORGE. No music? SOAMES. No. [He steals to the end of the table and sits on her right, equally interested]. MRS GEORGE. Do you see nothing--not a great light? THE BISHOP. We are still walking in darkness. MRS GEORGE. Put your hand on my forehead: the hand with the ring. [He does so. Her eyes close]. SOAMES [inspired to prophesy] There was a certain woman, the wife of a coal merchant, which had been a great sinner . . . The Bishop, startled, takes his hand away. Mrs George's eyes open vividly as she interrupts Soames. MRS GEORGE. You prophesy falsely, Anthony: never in all my life have I done anything that was not ordained for me. [More quietly] Ive been myself. Ive not been afraid of myself. And at last I have escaped from myself, and am become a voice for them that are afraid to speak, and a cry for the hearts that break in silence. SOAMES [whispering] Is she inspired? THE BISHOP. Marvellous. Hush. MRS GEORGE. I have earned the right to speak. I have dared: I have gone through: I have not fallen withered in the fire: I have come at last out beyond, to the back of Godspeed? THE BISHOP. And what do you see there, at the back of Godspeed? SOAMES [hungrily] Give us your message. MRS GEORGE [with intensely sad reproach] When you loved me I gave you the whole sun and stars to play with. I gave you eternity in a single moment, strength of the mountains in one clasp of your arms, and the volume of all the seas in one impulse of your souls. A moment only; but was it not enough? Were you not paid then for all the rest of your struggle on earth? Must I mend your clothes and sweep your floors as well? Was it not enough? I paid the price without bargaining: I bore the children without flinching: was that a reason for heaping fresh burdens on me? I carried the child in my arms: must I carry the father too? When I opened the gates of paradise, were you blind? was it nothing to you? When all the stars sang in your ears and all the winds swept you into the heart of heaven, were you deaf? were you dull? was I no more to you than a bone to a dog? Was it not enough? We spent eternity together; and you ask me for a little lifetime more. We possessed all the universe together; and you ask me to give you my scanty wages as well. I have given you the greatest of all things; and you ask me to give you little things. I gave you your own soul: you ask me for my body as a plaything. Was it not enough? Was it not enough? SOAMES. Do you understand this, my lord? THE BISHOP. I have that advantage over you, Anthony, thanks to Alice. [He takes Mrs George's hand]. Your hand is very cold. Can you come down to earth? Do you remember who I am, and who you are? MRS GEORGE. It was enough for me. I did not ask to meet you--to touch you--[the Bishop quickly releases her hand]. When you spoke to my soul years ago from your pulpit, you opened the doors of my salvation to me; and now they stand open for ever. It was enough: I have asked you for nothing since: I ask you for nothing now. I have lived: it is enough. I have had my wages; and I am ready for my work. I thank you and bless you and leave you. You are happier in that than I am; for when I do for men what you did for me, I have no thanks, and no blessing: I am their prey; and there is no rest from their loving and no mercy from their loathing. THE BISHOP. You must take us as we are, Mrs Collins. SOAMES. No. Take us as we are capable of becoming. MRS GEORGE. Take me as I am: I ask no more. [She turns her head to the study door and cries] Yes: come in, come in. Hotchkiss comes softly in from the study. HOTCHKISS. Will you be so kind as to tell me whether I am dreaming? In there I have heard Mrs Collins saying the strangest things, and not a syllable from you two. SOAMES. My lord; is this possession by the devil? THE BISHOP. Or the ecstasy of a saint? HOTCHKISS. Or the convulsion of the pythoness on the tripod? THE BISHOP. May not the three be one? MRS GEORGE [troubled] You are paining and tiring me with idle questions. You are dragging me back to myself. You are tormenting me with your evil dreams of saints and devils and--what was it?-- [striving to fathom it] the pythoness--the pythoness--[giving it up] I dont understand. I am a woman: a human creature like yourselves. Will you not take me as I am? SOAMES. Yes; but shall we take you and burn you? THE BISHOP. Or take you and canonize you? HOTCHKISS [gaily] Or take you as a matter of course? [Swiftly to the Bishop] We must get her out of this: it's dangerous. [Aloud to her] May I suggest that you shall be Anthony's devil and the Bishop's saint and my adored Polly? [Slipping behind her, he picks up her hand from her lap and kisses it over her shoulder]. MRS GEORGE [waking] What was that? Who kissed my hand? [To the Bishop, eagerly] Was it you? [He shakes his head. She is mortified]. I beg your pardon. THE BISHOP. Not at all. I'm not repudiating that honor. Allow me [he kisses her hand]. MRS GEORGE. Thank you for that. It was not the sexton, was it? SOAMES. I! HOTCHKISS. It was I, Polly, your ever faithful. MRS GEORGE [turning and seeing him] Let me catch you doing it again: thats all. How do you come there? I sent you away. [With great energy, becoming quite herself again] What the goodness gracious has been happening? HOTCHKISS. As far as I can make out, you have been having a very charming and eloquent sort of fit. MRS GEORGE [delighted] What! My second sight! [To the Bishop] Oh, how I have prayed that it might come to me if ever I met you! And now it has come. How stunning! You may believe every word I said: I cant remember it now; but it was something that was just bursting to be said; and so it laid hold of me and said itself. Thats how it is, you see. Edith and Cecil Sykes come in through the tower. She has her hat on. Leo follows. They have evidently been out together. Sykes, with an unnatural air, half foolish, half rakish, as if he had lost all his self-respect and were determined not to let it prey on his spirits, throws himself into a chair at the end of the table near the hearth and thrusts his hands into his pockets, like Hogarth's Rake, without waiting for Edith to sit down. She sits in the railed chair. Leo takes the chair nearest the tower on the long side of the table, brooding, with closed lips. THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. With Cecil? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding? No reply. Blank silence. SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie. EDITH. Tell them yourself. The General comes in from the garden. THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me with some tobacco? Ive finished mine; and my nerves are still far from settled. THE BISHOP. Wait a moment, Boxer. Cecil has something important to tell us. SYKES. Weve done it. Thats all. HOTCHKISS. Done what, Cecil? SYKES. Well, what do you suppose? EDITH. Got married, of course. THE GENERAL. Married! Who gave you away? SYKES [jerking his head towards the tower] This gentleman did.[Seeing that they do not understand, he looks round and sees that there is no one there]. Oh! I thought he came in with us. Hes gone downstairs, I suppose. The Beadle. THE GENERAL. The Beadle! What the devil did he do that for? SYKES. Oh, I dont know: I didnt make any bargain with him. [To Mrs George] How much ought I to give him, Mrs Collins? MRS GEORGE. Five shillings. [To the Bishop] I want to rest for a moment: there! in your study. I saw it here [she touches her forehead]. THE BISHOP [opening the study door for her] By all means. Turn my brother out if he disturbs you. Soames: bring the letters out here. SYKES. He wont be offended at my offering it, will he? MRS GEORGE. Not he! He touches children with the mace to cure them of ringworm for fourpence apiece. [She goes into the study. Soames follows her]. THE GENERAL. Well, Edith, I'm a little disappointed, I must say. However, I'm glad it was done by somebody in a public uniform. Mrs Bridgenorth and Lesbia come in through the tower. Mrs Bridgenorth makes for the Bishop. He goes to her, and they meet near the oak chest. Lesbia comes between Sykes and Edith. THE BISHOP. Alice, my love, theyre married. MRS BRIDGENORTH [placidly] Oh, well, thats all right. Better tell Collins. Soames comes back from the study with his writing materials. He seats himself at the nearest end of the table and goes on with his work. Hotchkiss sits down in the next chair round the table corner, with his back to him. LESBIA. You have both given in, have you? EDITH. Not at all. We have provided for everything. SOAMES. How? EDITH. Before going to the church, we went to the office of that insurance company--whats its name, Cecil? SYKES. The British Family Insurance Corporation. It insures you against poor relations and all sorts of family contingencies. EDITH. It has consented to insure Cecil against libel actions brought against him on my account. It will give us specially low terms because I am a Bishop's daughter. SYKES. And I have given Edie my solemn word that if I ever commit a crime I'll knock her down before a

sod

How many times the word 'sod' appears in the text?

First, he talks as if the only thing of any importance in life was which particular woman he shall marry. Second, he has no self-control. THE GENERAL. Women are not all the same to me, Lesbia. MRS GEORGE. Why should they be, pray? Women are all different: it's the men who are all the same. Besides, what does Miss Grantham know about either men or women? She's got too much self- control. LESBIA [widening her eyes and lifting her chin haughtily] And pray how does that prevent me from knowing as much about men and women as people who have no self-control? MRS GEORGE. Because it frightens people into behaving themselves before you; and then how can you tell what they really are? Look at me! I was a spoilt child. My brothers and sisters were well brought up, like all children of respectable publicans. So should I have been if I hadnt been the youngest: ten years younger than my youngest brother. My parents were tired of doing their duty by their children by that time; and they spoilt me for all they were worth. I never knew what it was to want money or anything that money could buy. When I wanted my own way, I had nothing to do but scream for it till I got it. When I was annoyed I didnt control myself: I scratched and called names. Did you ever, after you were grown up, pull a grown-up woman's hair? Did you ever bite a grown-up man? Did you ever call both of them every name you could lay your tongue to? LESBIA [shivering with disgust] No. MRS GEORGE. Well, I did. I know what a woman is like when her hair's pulled. I know what a man is like when he's bit. I know what theyre both like when you tell them what you really feel about them. And thats how I know more of the world than you. LESBIA. The Chinese know what a man is like when he is cut into a thousand pieces, or boiled in oil. That sort of knowledge is of no use to me. I'm afraid we shall never get on with one another, Mrs George. I live like a fencer, always on guard. I like to be confronted with people who are always on guard. I hate sloppy people, slovenly people, people who cant sit up straight, sentimental people. MRS GEORGE. Oh, sentimental your grandmother! You dont learn to hold your own in the world by standing on guard, but by attacking, and getting well hammered yourself. LESBIA. I'm not a prize-fighter, Mrs. Collins. If I cant get a thing without the indignity of fighting for it, I do without it. MRS GEORGE. Do you? Does it strike you that if we were all as clever as you at doing without, there wouldnt be much to live for, would there? TAE GENERAL. I'm afraid, Lesbia, the things you do without are the things you dont want. LESBIA [surprised at his wit] Thats not bad for the silly soldier man. Yes, Boxer: the truth is, I dont want you enough to make the very unreasonable sacrifices required by marriage. And yet that is exactly why I ought to be married. Just because I have the qualities my country wants most I shall go barren to my grave; whilst the women who have neither the strength to resist marriage nor the intelligence to understand its infinite dishonor will make the England of the future. [She rises and walks towards the study]. THE GENERAL [as she is about to pass him] Well, I shall not ask you again, Lesbia. LESBIA. Thank you, Boxer. [She passes on to the study door]. MRS GEORGE. Youre quite done with him, are you? LESBIA. As far as marriage is concerned, yes. The field is clear for you, Mrs George. [She goes into the study]. The General buries his face in his hands. Mrs George comes round the table to him. MRS GEORGE [sympathetically] She's a nice woman, that. And a sort of beauty about her too, different from anyone else. THE GENERAL [overwhelmed] Oh Mrs Collins, thank you, thank you a thousand times. [He rises effusively]. You have thawed the long- frozen springs [he kisses her hand]. Forgive me; and thank you: bless you--[he again takes refuge in the garden, choked with emotion]. MRS GEORGE [looking after him triumphantly] Just caught the dear old warrior on the bounce, eh? HOTCHKISS. Unfaithful to me already! MRS GEORGE. I'm not your property, young man dont you think it. [She goes over to him and faces him]. You understand that? [He suddenly snatches her into his arms and kisses her]. Oh! You. dare do that again, you young blackguard; and I'll jab one of these chairs in your face [she seizes one and holds it in readiness]. Now you shall not see me for another month. HOTCHKISS [deliberately] I shall pay my first visit to your husband this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. Youll see what he'll say to you when I tell him what youve just done. HOTCHKISS. What can he say? What dare he say? MRS GEORGE. Suppose he kicks you out of the house? HOTCHKISS. How can he? Ive fought seven duels with sabres. Ive muscles of iron. Nothing hurts me: not even broken bones. Fighting is absolutely uninteresting to me because it doesnt frighten me or amuse me; and I always win. Your husband is in all these respects an average man, probably. He will be horribly afraid of me; and if under the stimulus of your presence, and for your sake, and because it is the right thing to do among vulgar people, he were to attack me, I should simply defeat him and humiliate him [he gradually gets his hands on the chair and takes it from her, as his words go home phrase by phrase]. Sooner than expose him to that, you would suffer a thousand stolen kisses, wouldnt you? MRS GEORGE [in utter consternation] You young viper! HOTCHKISS. Ha ha! You are in my power. That is one of the oversights of your code of honor for husbands: the man who can bully them can insult their wives with impunity. Tell him if you dare. If I choose to take ten kisses, how will you prevent me? MRS GEORGE. You come within reach of me and I'll not leave a hair on your head. HOTCHKISS [catching her wrists dexterously] Ive got your hands. MRS GEORGE. Youve not got my teeth. Let go; or I'll bite. I will, I tell you. Let go. HOTCHKISS. Bite away: I shall taste quite as nice as George. MRS GEORGE. You beast. Let me go. Do you call yourself a gentleman, to use your brute strength against a woman? HOTCHKISS. You are stronger than me in every way but this. Do you think I will give up my one advantage? Promise youll receive me when I call this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. After what youve just done? Not if it was to save my life. HOTCHKISS. I'll amuse George. MRS GEORGE. He wont be in. HOTCHKISS [taken aback] Do you mean that we should be alone? MRS GEORGE [snatching away her hands triumphantly as his grasp relaxes] Aha! Thats cooled you, has it? HOTCHKISS [anxiously] When will George be at home? MRS GEORGE. It wont matter to you whether he's at home or not. The door will be slammed in your face whenever you call. HOTCHKISS. No servant in London is strong enough to close a door that I mean to keep open. You cant escape me. If you persist, I'll go into the coal trade; make George's acquaintance on the coal exchange; and coax him to take me home with him to make your acquaintance. MRS GEORGE. We have no use for you, young man: neither George nor I [she sails away from him and sits down at the end of the table near the study door]. HOTCHKISS [following her and taking the next chair round the corner of the table] Yes you have. George cant fight for you: I can. MRS GEORGE [turning to face him] You bully. You low bully. HOTCHKISS. You have courage and fascination: I have courage and a pair of fists. We're both bullies, Polly. MRS GEORGE. You have a mischievous tongue. Thats enough to keep you out of my house. HOTCHKISS. It must be rather a house of cards. A word from me to George--just the right word, said in the right way--and down comes your house. MRS GEORGE. Thats why I'll die sooner than let you into it. HOTCHKISS. Then as surely as you live, I enter the coal trade to- morrow. George's taste for amusing company will deliver him into my hands. Before a month passes your home will be at my mercy. MRS GEORGE [rising, at bay] Do you think I'll let myself be driven into a trap like this? HOTCHKISS. You are in it already. Marriage is a trap. You are married. Any man who has the power to spoil your marriage has the power to spoil your life. I have that power over you. MRS GEORGE [desperate] You mean it? HOTCHKISS. I do. MRS GEORGE [resolutely] Well, spoil my marriage and be-- HOTCHKISS [springing up] Polly! MRS GEORGE. Sooner than be your slave I'd face any unhappiness. HOTCHKISS. What! Even for George? MRS GEORGE. There must be honor between me and George, happiness or no happiness. Do your worst. HOTCHKISS [admiring her] Are you really game, Polly? Dare you defy me? MRS GEORGE. If you ask me another question I shant be able to keep my hands off you [she dashes distractedly past him to the other end of the table, her fingers crisping]. HOTCHKISS. That settles it. Polly: I adore you: we were born for one another. As I happen to be a gentleman, I'll never do anything to annoy or injure you except that I reserve the right to give you a black eye if you bite me; but youll never get rid of me now to the end of your life. MRS GEORGE. I shall get rid of you if the beadle has to brain you with the mace for it [she makes for the tower]. HOTCHKISS [running between the table and the oak chest and across to the tower to cut her off] You shant. MRS GEORGE [panting] Shant I though? HOTCHKISS. No you shant. I have one card left to play that youve forgotten. Why were you so unlike yourself when you spoke to the Bishop? MRS GEORGE [agitated beyond measure] Stop. Not that. You shall respect that if you respect nothing else. I forbid you. [He kneels at her feet]. What are you doing? Get up: dont be a fool. HOTCHKISS. Polly: I ask you on my knees to let me make George's acquaintance in his home this afternoon; and I shall remain on my knees till the Bishop comes in and sees us. What will he think of you then? MRS GEORGE [beside herself] Wheres the poker? She rushes to the fireplace; seizes the poker; and makes for Hotchkiss, who flies to the study door. The Bishop enters just then and finds himself between them, narrowly escaping a blow from the poker. THE BISHOP. Dont hit him, Mrs Collins. He is my guest. Mrs George throws down the poker; collapses into the nearest chair; and bursts into tears. The Bishop goes to her and pats her consolingly on the shoulder. She shudders all through at his touch. THE BISHOP. Come! you are in the house of your friends. Can we help you? MRS GEORGE [to Hotchkiss, pointing to the study] Go in there, you. Youre not wanted here. HOTCHKISS. You understand, Bishop, that Mrs Collins is not to blame for this scene. I'm afraid Ive been rather irritating. THE BISHOP. I can quite believe it, Sinjon. Hotchkiss goes into the study. THE BISHOP [turning to Mrs George with great kindness of manner] I'm sorry you have been worried [he sits down on her left]. Never mind him. A little pluck, a little gaiety of heart, a little prayer; and youll be laughing at him. MRS GEORGE. Never fear. I have all that. It was as much my fault as his; and I should have put him in his place with a clip of that poker on the side of his head if you hadnt come in. THE BISHOP. You might have put him in his coffin that way, Mrs Collins. And I should have been very sorry; because we are all fond of Sinjon. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's your duty to rebuke me. But do you think I dont know? THE BISHOP. I dont rebuke you. Who am I that I should rebuke you? Besides, I know there are discussions in which the poker is the only possible argument. MRS GEORGE. My lord: be earnest with me. I'm a very funny woman, I daresay; but I come from the same workshop as you. I heard you say that yourself years ago. THE BISHOP. Quite so; but then I'm a very funny Bishop. Since we are both funny people, let us not forget that humor is a divine attribute. MRS GEORGE. I know nothing about divine attributes or whatever you call them; but I can feel when I am being belittled. It was from you that I learnt first to respect myself. It was through you that I came to be able to walk safely through many wild and wilful paths. Dont go back on your own teaching. THE BISHOP. I'm not a teacher: only a fellow-traveller of whom you asked the way. I pointed ahead--ahead of myself as well as of you. MRS GEORGE [rising and standing over him almost threateningly] As I'm a living woman this day, if I find you out to be a fraud, I'll kill myself. THE BISHOP. What! Kill yourself for finding out something! For becoming a wiser and therefore a better woman! What a bad reason! MRS GEORGE. I have sometimes thought of killing you, and then killing myself. THE BISHOP. Why on earth should you kill yourself--not to mention me? MRS GEORGE. So that we might keep our assignation in Heaven. THE BISHOP [rising and facing her, breathless] Mrs. Collins! YOU are Incognita Appassionata! MRS GEORGE. You read my letters, then? [With a sigh of grateful relief, she sits down quietly, and says] Thank you. THE BISHOP [remorsefully] And I have broken the spell by making you come here [sitting down again]. Can you ever forgive me? MRS GEORGE. You couldnt know that it was only the coal merchant's wife, could you? THE BISHOP. Why do you say only the coal merchant's wife? MRS GEORGE. Many people would laugh at it. THE BISHOP. Poor people! It's so hard to know the right place to laugh, isnt it? MRS GEORGE. I didnt mean to make you think the letters were from a fine lady. I wrote on cheap paper; and I never could spell. THE BISHOP. Neither could I. So that told me nothing. MRS GEORGE. One thing I should like you to know. THE BISHOP. Yes? MRS GEORGE. We didnt cheat your friend. They were as good as we could do at thirteen shillings a ton. THE BISHOP. Thats important. Thank you for telling me. MRS GEORGE. I have something else to say; but will you please ask somebody to come and stay here while we talk? [He rises and turns to the study door]. Not a woman, if you dont mind. [He nods understandingly and passes on]. Not a man either. THE BISHOP [stopping] Not a man and not a woman! We have no children left, Mrs Collins. They are all grown up and married. MRS GEORGE. That other clergyman would do. THE BISHOP. What! The sexton? MRS GEORGE. Yes. He didnt mind my calling him that, did he? It was only my ignorance. THE BISHOP. Not at all. [He opens the study door and calls] Soames! Anthony! [To Mrs George] Call him Father: he likes it. [Soames appears at the study door]. Mrs Collins wishes you to join us, Anthony. Soames looks puzzled. MRS GEORGE. You dont mind, Dad, do you? [As this greeting visibly gives him a shock that hardly bears out the Bishop's advice, she says anxiously] That was what you told me to call him, wasnt it? SOAMES. I am called Father Anthony, Mrs Collins. But it does not matter what you call me. [He comes in, and walks past her to the hearth]. THE BISHOP. Mrs Collins has something to say to me that she wants you to hear. SOAMES. I am listening. THE BISHOP [going back to his seat next her] Now. MRS GEORGE. My lord: you should never have married. SOAMES. This woman is inspired. Listen to her, my lord. THE BISHOP [taken aback by the directness of the attack] I married because I was so much in love with Alice that all the difficulties and doubts and dangers of marriage seemed to me the merest moonshine. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's mean to let poor things in for so much while theyre in that state. Would you marry now that you know better if you were a widower? THE BISHOP. I'm old now. It wouldnt matter. MRS GEORGE. But would you if it did matter? THE BISHOP. I think I should marry again lest anyone should imagine I had found marriage unhappy with Alice. SOAMES [sternly] Are you fonder of your wife than of your salvation? THE BISHOP. Oh, very much. When you meet a man who is very particular about his salvation, look out for a woman who is very particular about her character; and marry them to one another: theyll make a perfect pair. I advise you to fall in love; Anthony. SOAMES [with horror] I!! THE BISHOP. Yes, you! think of what it would do for you. For her sake you would come to care unselfishly and diligently for money instead of being selfishly and lazily indifferent to it. For her sake you would come to care in the same way for preferment. For her sake you would come to care for your health, your appearance, the good opinion of your fellow creatures, and all the really important things that make men work and strive instead of mooning and nursing their salvation. SOAMES. In one word, for the sake of one deadly sin I should come to care for all the others. THE BISHOP. Saint Anthony! Tempt him, Mrs Collins: tempt him. MRS GEORGE [rising and looking strangely before her] Take care, my lord: you still have the power to make me obey your commands. And do you, Mr Sexton, beware of an empty heart. THE BISHOP. Yes. Nature abhors a vacuum, Anthony. I would not dare go about with an empty heart: why, the first girl I met would fly into it by mere atmospheric pressure. Alice keeps them out now. Mrs Collins knows. MRS GEORGE [a faint convulsion passing like a wave over her] I know more than either of you. One of you has not yet exhausted his first love: the other has not yet reached it. But I--I--[she reels and is again convulsed]. THE BISHOP [saving her from falling] Whats the matter? Are you ill, Mrs Collins? [He gets her back into her chair]. Soames: theres a glass of water in the study--quick. [Soames hurries to the study door.] MRS. GEORGE. No. [Soames stops]. Dont call. Dont bring anyone. Cant you hear anything? THE BISHOP. Nothing unusual. [He sits by her, watching her with intense surprise and interest]. MRS GEORGE. No music? SOAMES. No. [He steals to the end of the table and sits on her right, equally interested]. MRS GEORGE. Do you see nothing--not a great light? THE BISHOP. We are still walking in darkness. MRS GEORGE. Put your hand on my forehead: the hand with the ring. [He does so. Her eyes close]. SOAMES [inspired to prophesy] There was a certain woman, the wife of a coal merchant, which had been a great sinner . . . The Bishop, startled, takes his hand away. Mrs George's eyes open vividly as she interrupts Soames. MRS GEORGE. You prophesy falsely, Anthony: never in all my life have I done anything that was not ordained for me. [More quietly] Ive been myself. Ive not been afraid of myself. And at last I have escaped from myself, and am become a voice for them that are afraid to speak, and a cry for the hearts that break in silence. SOAMES [whispering] Is she inspired? THE BISHOP. Marvellous. Hush. MRS GEORGE. I have earned the right to speak. I have dared: I have gone through: I have not fallen withered in the fire: I have come at last out beyond, to the back of Godspeed? THE BISHOP. And what do you see there, at the back of Godspeed? SOAMES [hungrily] Give us your message. MRS GEORGE [with intensely sad reproach] When you loved me I gave you the whole sun and stars to play with. I gave you eternity in a single moment, strength of the mountains in one clasp of your arms, and the volume of all the seas in one impulse of your souls. A moment only; but was it not enough? Were you not paid then for all the rest of your struggle on earth? Must I mend your clothes and sweep your floors as well? Was it not enough? I paid the price without bargaining: I bore the children without flinching: was that a reason for heaping fresh burdens on me? I carried the child in my arms: must I carry the father too? When I opened the gates of paradise, were you blind? was it nothing to you? When all the stars sang in your ears and all the winds swept you into the heart of heaven, were you deaf? were you dull? was I no more to you than a bone to a dog? Was it not enough? We spent eternity together; and you ask me for a little lifetime more. We possessed all the universe together; and you ask me to give you my scanty wages as well. I have given you the greatest of all things; and you ask me to give you little things. I gave you your own soul: you ask me for my body as a plaything. Was it not enough? Was it not enough? SOAMES. Do you understand this, my lord? THE BISHOP. I have that advantage over you, Anthony, thanks to Alice. [He takes Mrs George's hand]. Your hand is very cold. Can you come down to earth? Do you remember who I am, and who you are? MRS GEORGE. It was enough for me. I did not ask to meet you--to touch you--[the Bishop quickly releases her hand]. When you spoke to my soul years ago from your pulpit, you opened the doors of my salvation to me; and now they stand open for ever. It was enough: I have asked you for nothing since: I ask you for nothing now. I have lived: it is enough. I have had my wages; and I am ready for my work. I thank you and bless you and leave you. You are happier in that than I am; for when I do for men what you did for me, I have no thanks, and no blessing: I am their prey; and there is no rest from their loving and no mercy from their loathing. THE BISHOP. You must take us as we are, Mrs Collins. SOAMES. No. Take us as we are capable of becoming. MRS GEORGE. Take me as I am: I ask no more. [She turns her head to the study door and cries] Yes: come in, come in. Hotchkiss comes softly in from the study. HOTCHKISS. Will you be so kind as to tell me whether I am dreaming? In there I have heard Mrs Collins saying the strangest things, and not a syllable from you two. SOAMES. My lord; is this possession by the devil? THE BISHOP. Or the ecstasy of a saint? HOTCHKISS. Or the convulsion of the pythoness on the tripod? THE BISHOP. May not the three be one? MRS GEORGE [troubled] You are paining and tiring me with idle questions. You are dragging me back to myself. You are tormenting me with your evil dreams of saints and devils and--what was it?-- [striving to fathom it] the pythoness--the pythoness--[giving it up] I dont understand. I am a woman: a human creature like yourselves. Will you not take me as I am? SOAMES. Yes; but shall we take you and burn you? THE BISHOP. Or take you and canonize you? HOTCHKISS [gaily] Or take you as a matter of course? [Swiftly to the Bishop] We must get her out of this: it's dangerous. [Aloud to her] May I suggest that you shall be Anthony's devil and the Bishop's saint and my adored Polly? [Slipping behind her, he picks up her hand from her lap and kisses it over her shoulder]. MRS GEORGE [waking] What was that? Who kissed my hand? [To the Bishop, eagerly] Was it you? [He shakes his head. She is mortified]. I beg your pardon. THE BISHOP. Not at all. I'm not repudiating that honor. Allow me [he kisses her hand]. MRS GEORGE. Thank you for that. It was not the sexton, was it? SOAMES. I! HOTCHKISS. It was I, Polly, your ever faithful. MRS GEORGE [turning and seeing him] Let me catch you doing it again: thats all. How do you come there? I sent you away. [With great energy, becoming quite herself again] What the goodness gracious has been happening? HOTCHKISS. As far as I can make out, you have been having a very charming and eloquent sort of fit. MRS GEORGE [delighted] What! My second sight! [To the Bishop] Oh, how I have prayed that it might come to me if ever I met you! And now it has come. How stunning! You may believe every word I said: I cant remember it now; but it was something that was just bursting to be said; and so it laid hold of me and said itself. Thats how it is, you see. Edith and Cecil Sykes come in through the tower. She has her hat on. Leo follows. They have evidently been out together. Sykes, with an unnatural air, half foolish, half rakish, as if he had lost all his self-respect and were determined not to let it prey on his spirits, throws himself into a chair at the end of the table near the hearth and thrusts his hands into his pockets, like Hogarth's Rake, without waiting for Edith to sit down. She sits in the railed chair. Leo takes the chair nearest the tower on the long side of the table, brooding, with closed lips. THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. With Cecil? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding? No reply. Blank silence. SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie. EDITH. Tell them yourself. The General comes in from the garden. THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me with some tobacco? Ive finished mine; and my nerves are still far from settled. THE BISHOP. Wait a moment, Boxer. Cecil has something important to tell us. SYKES. Weve done it. Thats all. HOTCHKISS. Done what, Cecil? SYKES. Well, what do you suppose? EDITH. Got married, of course. THE GENERAL. Married! Who gave you away? SYKES [jerking his head towards the tower] This gentleman did.[Seeing that they do not understand, he looks round and sees that there is no one there]. Oh! I thought he came in with us. Hes gone downstairs, I suppose. The Beadle. THE GENERAL. The Beadle! What the devil did he do that for? SYKES. Oh, I dont know: I didnt make any bargain with him. [To Mrs George] How much ought I to give him, Mrs Collins? MRS GEORGE. Five shillings. [To the Bishop] I want to rest for a moment: there! in your study. I saw it here [she touches her forehead]. THE BISHOP [opening the study door for her] By all means. Turn my brother out if he disturbs you. Soames: bring the letters out here. SYKES. He wont be offended at my offering it, will he? MRS GEORGE. Not he! He touches children with the mace to cure them of ringworm for fourpence apiece. [She goes into the study. Soames follows her]. THE GENERAL. Well, Edith, I'm a little disappointed, I must say. However, I'm glad it was done by somebody in a public uniform. Mrs Bridgenorth and Lesbia come in through the tower. Mrs Bridgenorth makes for the Bishop. He goes to her, and they meet near the oak chest. Lesbia comes between Sykes and Edith. THE BISHOP. Alice, my love, theyre married. MRS BRIDGENORTH [placidly] Oh, well, thats all right. Better tell Collins. Soames comes back from the study with his writing materials. He seats himself at the nearest end of the table and goes on with his work. Hotchkiss sits down in the next chair round the table corner, with his back to him. LESBIA. You have both given in, have you? EDITH. Not at all. We have provided for everything. SOAMES. How? EDITH. Before going to the church, we went to the office of that insurance company--whats its name, Cecil? SYKES. The British Family Insurance Corporation. It insures you against poor relations and all sorts of family contingencies. EDITH. It has consented to insure Cecil against libel actions brought against him on my account. It will give us specially low terms because I am a Bishop's daughter. SYKES. And I have given Edie my solemn word that if I ever commit a crime I'll knock her down before a

licking

How many times the word 'licking' appears in the text?

First, he talks as if the only thing of any importance in life was which particular woman he shall marry. Second, he has no self-control. THE GENERAL. Women are not all the same to me, Lesbia. MRS GEORGE. Why should they be, pray? Women are all different: it's the men who are all the same. Besides, what does Miss Grantham know about either men or women? She's got too much self- control. LESBIA [widening her eyes and lifting her chin haughtily] And pray how does that prevent me from knowing as much about men and women as people who have no self-control? MRS GEORGE. Because it frightens people into behaving themselves before you; and then how can you tell what they really are? Look at me! I was a spoilt child. My brothers and sisters were well brought up, like all children of respectable publicans. So should I have been if I hadnt been the youngest: ten years younger than my youngest brother. My parents were tired of doing their duty by their children by that time; and they spoilt me for all they were worth. I never knew what it was to want money or anything that money could buy. When I wanted my own way, I had nothing to do but scream for it till I got it. When I was annoyed I didnt control myself: I scratched and called names. Did you ever, after you were grown up, pull a grown-up woman's hair? Did you ever bite a grown-up man? Did you ever call both of them every name you could lay your tongue to? LESBIA [shivering with disgust] No. MRS GEORGE. Well, I did. I know what a woman is like when her hair's pulled. I know what a man is like when he's bit. I know what theyre both like when you tell them what you really feel about them. And thats how I know more of the world than you. LESBIA. The Chinese know what a man is like when he is cut into a thousand pieces, or boiled in oil. That sort of knowledge is of no use to me. I'm afraid we shall never get on with one another, Mrs George. I live like a fencer, always on guard. I like to be confronted with people who are always on guard. I hate sloppy people, slovenly people, people who cant sit up straight, sentimental people. MRS GEORGE. Oh, sentimental your grandmother! You dont learn to hold your own in the world by standing on guard, but by attacking, and getting well hammered yourself. LESBIA. I'm not a prize-fighter, Mrs. Collins. If I cant get a thing without the indignity of fighting for it, I do without it. MRS GEORGE. Do you? Does it strike you that if we were all as clever as you at doing without, there wouldnt be much to live for, would there? TAE GENERAL. I'm afraid, Lesbia, the things you do without are the things you dont want. LESBIA [surprised at his wit] Thats not bad for the silly soldier man. Yes, Boxer: the truth is, I dont want you enough to make the very unreasonable sacrifices required by marriage. And yet that is exactly why I ought to be married. Just because I have the qualities my country wants most I shall go barren to my grave; whilst the women who have neither the strength to resist marriage nor the intelligence to understand its infinite dishonor will make the England of the future. [She rises and walks towards the study]. THE GENERAL [as she is about to pass him] Well, I shall not ask you again, Lesbia. LESBIA. Thank you, Boxer. [She passes on to the study door]. MRS GEORGE. Youre quite done with him, are you? LESBIA. As far as marriage is concerned, yes. The field is clear for you, Mrs George. [She goes into the study]. The General buries his face in his hands. Mrs George comes round the table to him. MRS GEORGE [sympathetically] She's a nice woman, that. And a sort of beauty about her too, different from anyone else. THE GENERAL [overwhelmed] Oh Mrs Collins, thank you, thank you a thousand times. [He rises effusively]. You have thawed the long- frozen springs [he kisses her hand]. Forgive me; and thank you: bless you--[he again takes refuge in the garden, choked with emotion]. MRS GEORGE [looking after him triumphantly] Just caught the dear old warrior on the bounce, eh? HOTCHKISS. Unfaithful to me already! MRS GEORGE. I'm not your property, young man dont you think it. [She goes over to him and faces him]. You understand that? [He suddenly snatches her into his arms and kisses her]. Oh! You. dare do that again, you young blackguard; and I'll jab one of these chairs in your face [she seizes one and holds it in readiness]. Now you shall not see me for another month. HOTCHKISS [deliberately] I shall pay my first visit to your husband this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. Youll see what he'll say to you when I tell him what youve just done. HOTCHKISS. What can he say? What dare he say? MRS GEORGE. Suppose he kicks you out of the house? HOTCHKISS. How can he? Ive fought seven duels with sabres. Ive muscles of iron. Nothing hurts me: not even broken bones. Fighting is absolutely uninteresting to me because it doesnt frighten me or amuse me; and I always win. Your husband is in all these respects an average man, probably. He will be horribly afraid of me; and if under the stimulus of your presence, and for your sake, and because it is the right thing to do among vulgar people, he were to attack me, I should simply defeat him and humiliate him [he gradually gets his hands on the chair and takes it from her, as his words go home phrase by phrase]. Sooner than expose him to that, you would suffer a thousand stolen kisses, wouldnt you? MRS GEORGE [in utter consternation] You young viper! HOTCHKISS. Ha ha! You are in my power. That is one of the oversights of your code of honor for husbands: the man who can bully them can insult their wives with impunity. Tell him if you dare. If I choose to take ten kisses, how will you prevent me? MRS GEORGE. You come within reach of me and I'll not leave a hair on your head. HOTCHKISS [catching her wrists dexterously] Ive got your hands. MRS GEORGE. Youve not got my teeth. Let go; or I'll bite. I will, I tell you. Let go. HOTCHKISS. Bite away: I shall taste quite as nice as George. MRS GEORGE. You beast. Let me go. Do you call yourself a gentleman, to use your brute strength against a woman? HOTCHKISS. You are stronger than me in every way but this. Do you think I will give up my one advantage? Promise youll receive me when I call this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. After what youve just done? Not if it was to save my life. HOTCHKISS. I'll amuse George. MRS GEORGE. He wont be in. HOTCHKISS [taken aback] Do you mean that we should be alone? MRS GEORGE [snatching away her hands triumphantly as his grasp relaxes] Aha! Thats cooled you, has it? HOTCHKISS [anxiously] When will George be at home? MRS GEORGE. It wont matter to you whether he's at home or not. The door will be slammed in your face whenever you call. HOTCHKISS. No servant in London is strong enough to close a door that I mean to keep open. You cant escape me. If you persist, I'll go into the coal trade; make George's acquaintance on the coal exchange; and coax him to take me home with him to make your acquaintance. MRS GEORGE. We have no use for you, young man: neither George nor I [she sails away from him and sits down at the end of the table near the study door]. HOTCHKISS [following her and taking the next chair round the corner of the table] Yes you have. George cant fight for you: I can. MRS GEORGE [turning to face him] You bully. You low bully. HOTCHKISS. You have courage and fascination: I have courage and a pair of fists. We're both bullies, Polly. MRS GEORGE. You have a mischievous tongue. Thats enough to keep you out of my house. HOTCHKISS. It must be rather a house of cards. A word from me to George--just the right word, said in the right way--and down comes your house. MRS GEORGE. Thats why I'll die sooner than let you into it. HOTCHKISS. Then as surely as you live, I enter the coal trade to- morrow. George's taste for amusing company will deliver him into my hands. Before a month passes your home will be at my mercy. MRS GEORGE [rising, at bay] Do you think I'll let myself be driven into a trap like this? HOTCHKISS. You are in it already. Marriage is a trap. You are married. Any man who has the power to spoil your marriage has the power to spoil your life. I have that power over you. MRS GEORGE [desperate] You mean it? HOTCHKISS. I do. MRS GEORGE [resolutely] Well, spoil my marriage and be-- HOTCHKISS [springing up] Polly! MRS GEORGE. Sooner than be your slave I'd face any unhappiness. HOTCHKISS. What! Even for George? MRS GEORGE. There must be honor between me and George, happiness or no happiness. Do your worst. HOTCHKISS [admiring her] Are you really game, Polly? Dare you defy me? MRS GEORGE. If you ask me another question I shant be able to keep my hands off you [she dashes distractedly past him to the other end of the table, her fingers crisping]. HOTCHKISS. That settles it. Polly: I adore you: we were born for one another. As I happen to be a gentleman, I'll never do anything to annoy or injure you except that I reserve the right to give you a black eye if you bite me; but youll never get rid of me now to the end of your life. MRS GEORGE. I shall get rid of you if the beadle has to brain you with the mace for it [she makes for the tower]. HOTCHKISS [running between the table and the oak chest and across to the tower to cut her off] You shant. MRS GEORGE [panting] Shant I though? HOTCHKISS. No you shant. I have one card left to play that youve forgotten. Why were you so unlike yourself when you spoke to the Bishop? MRS GEORGE [agitated beyond measure] Stop. Not that. You shall respect that if you respect nothing else. I forbid you. [He kneels at her feet]. What are you doing? Get up: dont be a fool. HOTCHKISS. Polly: I ask you on my knees to let me make George's acquaintance in his home this afternoon; and I shall remain on my knees till the Bishop comes in and sees us. What will he think of you then? MRS GEORGE [beside herself] Wheres the poker? She rushes to the fireplace; seizes the poker; and makes for Hotchkiss, who flies to the study door. The Bishop enters just then and finds himself between them, narrowly escaping a blow from the poker. THE BISHOP. Dont hit him, Mrs Collins. He is my guest. Mrs George throws down the poker; collapses into the nearest chair; and bursts into tears. The Bishop goes to her and pats her consolingly on the shoulder. She shudders all through at his touch. THE BISHOP. Come! you are in the house of your friends. Can we help you? MRS GEORGE [to Hotchkiss, pointing to the study] Go in there, you. Youre not wanted here. HOTCHKISS. You understand, Bishop, that Mrs Collins is not to blame for this scene. I'm afraid Ive been rather irritating. THE BISHOP. I can quite believe it, Sinjon. Hotchkiss goes into the study. THE BISHOP [turning to Mrs George with great kindness of manner] I'm sorry you have been worried [he sits down on her left]. Never mind him. A little pluck, a little gaiety of heart, a little prayer; and youll be laughing at him. MRS GEORGE. Never fear. I have all that. It was as much my fault as his; and I should have put him in his place with a clip of that poker on the side of his head if you hadnt come in. THE BISHOP. You might have put him in his coffin that way, Mrs Collins. And I should have been very sorry; because we are all fond of Sinjon. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's your duty to rebuke me. But do you think I dont know? THE BISHOP. I dont rebuke you. Who am I that I should rebuke you? Besides, I know there are discussions in which the poker is the only possible argument. MRS GEORGE. My lord: be earnest with me. I'm a very funny woman, I daresay; but I come from the same workshop as you. I heard you say that yourself years ago. THE BISHOP. Quite so; but then I'm a very funny Bishop. Since we are both funny people, let us not forget that humor is a divine attribute. MRS GEORGE. I know nothing about divine attributes or whatever you call them; but I can feel when I am being belittled. It was from you that I learnt first to respect myself. It was through you that I came to be able to walk safely through many wild and wilful paths. Dont go back on your own teaching. THE BISHOP. I'm not a teacher: only a fellow-traveller of whom you asked the way. I pointed ahead--ahead of myself as well as of you. MRS GEORGE [rising and standing over him almost threateningly] As I'm a living woman this day, if I find you out to be a fraud, I'll kill myself. THE BISHOP. What! Kill yourself for finding out something! For becoming a wiser and therefore a better woman! What a bad reason! MRS GEORGE. I have sometimes thought of killing you, and then killing myself. THE BISHOP. Why on earth should you kill yourself--not to mention me? MRS GEORGE. So that we might keep our assignation in Heaven. THE BISHOP [rising and facing her, breathless] Mrs. Collins! YOU are Incognita Appassionata! MRS GEORGE. You read my letters, then? [With a sigh of grateful relief, she sits down quietly, and says] Thank you. THE BISHOP [remorsefully] And I have broken the spell by making you come here [sitting down again]. Can you ever forgive me? MRS GEORGE. You couldnt know that it was only the coal merchant's wife, could you? THE BISHOP. Why do you say only the coal merchant's wife? MRS GEORGE. Many people would laugh at it. THE BISHOP. Poor people! It's so hard to know the right place to laugh, isnt it? MRS GEORGE. I didnt mean to make you think the letters were from a fine lady. I wrote on cheap paper; and I never could spell. THE BISHOP. Neither could I. So that told me nothing. MRS GEORGE. One thing I should like you to know. THE BISHOP. Yes? MRS GEORGE. We didnt cheat your friend. They were as good as we could do at thirteen shillings a ton. THE BISHOP. Thats important. Thank you for telling me. MRS GEORGE. I have something else to say; but will you please ask somebody to come and stay here while we talk? [He rises and turns to the study door]. Not a woman, if you dont mind. [He nods understandingly and passes on]. Not a man either. THE BISHOP [stopping] Not a man and not a woman! We have no children left, Mrs Collins. They are all grown up and married. MRS GEORGE. That other clergyman would do. THE BISHOP. What! The sexton? MRS GEORGE. Yes. He didnt mind my calling him that, did he? It was only my ignorance. THE BISHOP. Not at all. [He opens the study door and calls] Soames! Anthony! [To Mrs George] Call him Father: he likes it. [Soames appears at the study door]. Mrs Collins wishes you to join us, Anthony. Soames looks puzzled. MRS GEORGE. You dont mind, Dad, do you? [As this greeting visibly gives him a shock that hardly bears out the Bishop's advice, she says anxiously] That was what you told me to call him, wasnt it? SOAMES. I am called Father Anthony, Mrs Collins. But it does not matter what you call me. [He comes in, and walks past her to the hearth]. THE BISHOP. Mrs Collins has something to say to me that she wants you to hear. SOAMES. I am listening. THE BISHOP [going back to his seat next her] Now. MRS GEORGE. My lord: you should never have married. SOAMES. This woman is inspired. Listen to her, my lord. THE BISHOP [taken aback by the directness of the attack] I married because I was so much in love with Alice that all the difficulties and doubts and dangers of marriage seemed to me the merest moonshine. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's mean to let poor things in for so much while theyre in that state. Would you marry now that you know better if you were a widower? THE BISHOP. I'm old now. It wouldnt matter. MRS GEORGE. But would you if it did matter? THE BISHOP. I think I should marry again lest anyone should imagine I had found marriage unhappy with Alice. SOAMES [sternly] Are you fonder of your wife than of your salvation? THE BISHOP. Oh, very much. When you meet a man who is very particular about his salvation, look out for a woman who is very particular about her character; and marry them to one another: theyll make a perfect pair. I advise you to fall in love; Anthony. SOAMES [with horror] I!! THE BISHOP. Yes, you! think of what it would do for you. For her sake you would come to care unselfishly and diligently for money instead of being selfishly and lazily indifferent to it. For her sake you would come to care in the same way for preferment. For her sake you would come to care for your health, your appearance, the good opinion of your fellow creatures, and all the really important things that make men work and strive instead of mooning and nursing their salvation. SOAMES. In one word, for the sake of one deadly sin I should come to care for all the others. THE BISHOP. Saint Anthony! Tempt him, Mrs Collins: tempt him. MRS GEORGE [rising and looking strangely before her] Take care, my lord: you still have the power to make me obey your commands. And do you, Mr Sexton, beware of an empty heart. THE BISHOP. Yes. Nature abhors a vacuum, Anthony. I would not dare go about with an empty heart: why, the first girl I met would fly into it by mere atmospheric pressure. Alice keeps them out now. Mrs Collins knows. MRS GEORGE [a faint convulsion passing like a wave over her] I know more than either of you. One of you has not yet exhausted his first love: the other has not yet reached it. But I--I--[she reels and is again convulsed]. THE BISHOP [saving her from falling] Whats the matter? Are you ill, Mrs Collins? [He gets her back into her chair]. Soames: theres a glass of water in the study--quick. [Soames hurries to the study door.] MRS. GEORGE. No. [Soames stops]. Dont call. Dont bring anyone. Cant you hear anything? THE BISHOP. Nothing unusual. [He sits by her, watching her with intense surprise and interest]. MRS GEORGE. No music? SOAMES. No. [He steals to the end of the table and sits on her right, equally interested]. MRS GEORGE. Do you see nothing--not a great light? THE BISHOP. We are still walking in darkness. MRS GEORGE. Put your hand on my forehead: the hand with the ring. [He does so. Her eyes close]. SOAMES [inspired to prophesy] There was a certain woman, the wife of a coal merchant, which had been a great sinner . . . The Bishop, startled, takes his hand away. Mrs George's eyes open vividly as she interrupts Soames. MRS GEORGE. You prophesy falsely, Anthony: never in all my life have I done anything that was not ordained for me. [More quietly] Ive been myself. Ive not been afraid of myself. And at last I have escaped from myself, and am become a voice for them that are afraid to speak, and a cry for the hearts that break in silence. SOAMES [whispering] Is she inspired? THE BISHOP. Marvellous. Hush. MRS GEORGE. I have earned the right to speak. I have dared: I have gone through: I have not fallen withered in the fire: I have come at last out beyond, to the back of Godspeed? THE BISHOP. And what do you see there, at the back of Godspeed? SOAMES [hungrily] Give us your message. MRS GEORGE [with intensely sad reproach] When you loved me I gave you the whole sun and stars to play with. I gave you eternity in a single moment, strength of the mountains in one clasp of your arms, and the volume of all the seas in one impulse of your souls. A moment only; but was it not enough? Were you not paid then for all the rest of your struggle on earth? Must I mend your clothes and sweep your floors as well? Was it not enough? I paid the price without bargaining: I bore the children without flinching: was that a reason for heaping fresh burdens on me? I carried the child in my arms: must I carry the father too? When I opened the gates of paradise, were you blind? was it nothing to you? When all the stars sang in your ears and all the winds swept you into the heart of heaven, were you deaf? were you dull? was I no more to you than a bone to a dog? Was it not enough? We spent eternity together; and you ask me for a little lifetime more. We possessed all the universe together; and you ask me to give you my scanty wages as well. I have given you the greatest of all things; and you ask me to give you little things. I gave you your own soul: you ask me for my body as a plaything. Was it not enough? Was it not enough? SOAMES. Do you understand this, my lord? THE BISHOP. I have that advantage over you, Anthony, thanks to Alice. [He takes Mrs George's hand]. Your hand is very cold. Can you come down to earth? Do you remember who I am, and who you are? MRS GEORGE. It was enough for me. I did not ask to meet you--to touch you--[the Bishop quickly releases her hand]. When you spoke to my soul years ago from your pulpit, you opened the doors of my salvation to me; and now they stand open for ever. It was enough: I have asked you for nothing since: I ask you for nothing now. I have lived: it is enough. I have had my wages; and I am ready for my work. I thank you and bless you and leave you. You are happier in that than I am; for when I do for men what you did for me, I have no thanks, and no blessing: I am their prey; and there is no rest from their loving and no mercy from their loathing. THE BISHOP. You must take us as we are, Mrs Collins. SOAMES. No. Take us as we are capable of becoming. MRS GEORGE. Take me as I am: I ask no more. [She turns her head to the study door and cries] Yes: come in, come in. Hotchkiss comes softly in from the study. HOTCHKISS. Will you be so kind as to tell me whether I am dreaming? In there I have heard Mrs Collins saying the strangest things, and not a syllable from you two. SOAMES. My lord; is this possession by the devil? THE BISHOP. Or the ecstasy of a saint? HOTCHKISS. Or the convulsion of the pythoness on the tripod? THE BISHOP. May not the three be one? MRS GEORGE [troubled] You are paining and tiring me with idle questions. You are dragging me back to myself. You are tormenting me with your evil dreams of saints and devils and--what was it?-- [striving to fathom it] the pythoness--the pythoness--[giving it up] I dont understand. I am a woman: a human creature like yourselves. Will you not take me as I am? SOAMES. Yes; but shall we take you and burn you? THE BISHOP. Or take you and canonize you? HOTCHKISS [gaily] Or take you as a matter of course? [Swiftly to the Bishop] We must get her out of this: it's dangerous. [Aloud to her] May I suggest that you shall be Anthony's devil and the Bishop's saint and my adored Polly? [Slipping behind her, he picks up her hand from her lap and kisses it over her shoulder]. MRS GEORGE [waking] What was that? Who kissed my hand? [To the Bishop, eagerly] Was it you? [He shakes his head. She is mortified]. I beg your pardon. THE BISHOP. Not at all. I'm not repudiating that honor. Allow me [he kisses her hand]. MRS GEORGE. Thank you for that. It was not the sexton, was it? SOAMES. I! HOTCHKISS. It was I, Polly, your ever faithful. MRS GEORGE [turning and seeing him] Let me catch you doing it again: thats all. How do you come there? I sent you away. [With great energy, becoming quite herself again] What the goodness gracious has been happening? HOTCHKISS. As far as I can make out, you have been having a very charming and eloquent sort of fit. MRS GEORGE [delighted] What! My second sight! [To the Bishop] Oh, how I have prayed that it might come to me if ever I met you! And now it has come. How stunning! You may believe every word I said: I cant remember it now; but it was something that was just bursting to be said; and so it laid hold of me and said itself. Thats how it is, you see. Edith and Cecil Sykes come in through the tower. She has her hat on. Leo follows. They have evidently been out together. Sykes, with an unnatural air, half foolish, half rakish, as if he had lost all his self-respect and were determined not to let it prey on his spirits, throws himself into a chair at the end of the table near the hearth and thrusts his hands into his pockets, like Hogarth's Rake, without waiting for Edith to sit down. She sits in the railed chair. Leo takes the chair nearest the tower on the long side of the table, brooding, with closed lips. THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. With Cecil? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding? No reply. Blank silence. SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie. EDITH. Tell them yourself. The General comes in from the garden. THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me with some tobacco? Ive finished mine; and my nerves are still far from settled. THE BISHOP. Wait a moment, Boxer. Cecil has something important to tell us. SYKES. Weve done it. Thats all. HOTCHKISS. Done what, Cecil? SYKES. Well, what do you suppose? EDITH. Got married, of course. THE GENERAL. Married! Who gave you away? SYKES [jerking his head towards the tower] This gentleman did.[Seeing that they do not understand, he looks round and sees that there is no one there]. Oh! I thought he came in with us. Hes gone downstairs, I suppose. The Beadle. THE GENERAL. The Beadle! What the devil did he do that for? SYKES. Oh, I dont know: I didnt make any bargain with him. [To Mrs George] How much ought I to give him, Mrs Collins? MRS GEORGE. Five shillings. [To the Bishop] I want to rest for a moment: there! in your study. I saw it here [she touches her forehead]. THE BISHOP [opening the study door for her] By all means. Turn my brother out if he disturbs you. Soames: bring the letters out here. SYKES. He wont be offended at my offering it, will he? MRS GEORGE. Not he! He touches children with the mace to cure them of ringworm for fourpence apiece. [She goes into the study. Soames follows her]. THE GENERAL. Well, Edith, I'm a little disappointed, I must say. However, I'm glad it was done by somebody in a public uniform. Mrs Bridgenorth and Lesbia come in through the tower. Mrs Bridgenorth makes for the Bishop. He goes to her, and they meet near the oak chest. Lesbia comes between Sykes and Edith. THE BISHOP. Alice, my love, theyre married. MRS BRIDGENORTH [placidly] Oh, well, thats all right. Better tell Collins. Soames comes back from the study with his writing materials. He seats himself at the nearest end of the table and goes on with his work. Hotchkiss sits down in the next chair round the table corner, with his back to him. LESBIA. You have both given in, have you? EDITH. Not at all. We have provided for everything. SOAMES. How? EDITH. Before going to the church, we went to the office of that insurance company--whats its name, Cecil? SYKES. The British Family Insurance Corporation. It insures you against poor relations and all sorts of family contingencies. EDITH. It has consented to insure Cecil against libel actions brought against him on my account. It will give us specially low terms because I am a Bishop's daughter. SYKES. And I have given Edie my solemn word that if I ever commit a crime I'll knock her down before a

away

How many times the word 'away' appears in the text?

First, he talks as if the only thing of any importance in life was which particular woman he shall marry. Second, he has no self-control. THE GENERAL. Women are not all the same to me, Lesbia. MRS GEORGE. Why should they be, pray? Women are all different: it's the men who are all the same. Besides, what does Miss Grantham know about either men or women? She's got too much self- control. LESBIA [widening her eyes and lifting her chin haughtily] And pray how does that prevent me from knowing as much about men and women as people who have no self-control? MRS GEORGE. Because it frightens people into behaving themselves before you; and then how can you tell what they really are? Look at me! I was a spoilt child. My brothers and sisters were well brought up, like all children of respectable publicans. So should I have been if I hadnt been the youngest: ten years younger than my youngest brother. My parents were tired of doing their duty by their children by that time; and they spoilt me for all they were worth. I never knew what it was to want money or anything that money could buy. When I wanted my own way, I had nothing to do but scream for it till I got it. When I was annoyed I didnt control myself: I scratched and called names. Did you ever, after you were grown up, pull a grown-up woman's hair? Did you ever bite a grown-up man? Did you ever call both of them every name you could lay your tongue to? LESBIA [shivering with disgust] No. MRS GEORGE. Well, I did. I know what a woman is like when her hair's pulled. I know what a man is like when he's bit. I know what theyre both like when you tell them what you really feel about them. And thats how I know more of the world than you. LESBIA. The Chinese know what a man is like when he is cut into a thousand pieces, or boiled in oil. That sort of knowledge is of no use to me. I'm afraid we shall never get on with one another, Mrs George. I live like a fencer, always on guard. I like to be confronted with people who are always on guard. I hate sloppy people, slovenly people, people who cant sit up straight, sentimental people. MRS GEORGE. Oh, sentimental your grandmother! You dont learn to hold your own in the world by standing on guard, but by attacking, and getting well hammered yourself. LESBIA. I'm not a prize-fighter, Mrs. Collins. If I cant get a thing without the indignity of fighting for it, I do without it. MRS GEORGE. Do you? Does it strike you that if we were all as clever as you at doing without, there wouldnt be much to live for, would there? TAE GENERAL. I'm afraid, Lesbia, the things you do without are the things you dont want. LESBIA [surprised at his wit] Thats not bad for the silly soldier man. Yes, Boxer: the truth is, I dont want you enough to make the very unreasonable sacrifices required by marriage. And yet that is exactly why I ought to be married. Just because I have the qualities my country wants most I shall go barren to my grave; whilst the women who have neither the strength to resist marriage nor the intelligence to understand its infinite dishonor will make the England of the future. [She rises and walks towards the study]. THE GENERAL [as she is about to pass him] Well, I shall not ask you again, Lesbia. LESBIA. Thank you, Boxer. [She passes on to the study door]. MRS GEORGE. Youre quite done with him, are you? LESBIA. As far as marriage is concerned, yes. The field is clear for you, Mrs George. [She goes into the study]. The General buries his face in his hands. Mrs George comes round the table to him. MRS GEORGE [sympathetically] She's a nice woman, that. And a sort of beauty about her too, different from anyone else. THE GENERAL [overwhelmed] Oh Mrs Collins, thank you, thank you a thousand times. [He rises effusively]. You have thawed the long- frozen springs [he kisses her hand]. Forgive me; and thank you: bless you--[he again takes refuge in the garden, choked with emotion]. MRS GEORGE [looking after him triumphantly] Just caught the dear old warrior on the bounce, eh? HOTCHKISS. Unfaithful to me already! MRS GEORGE. I'm not your property, young man dont you think it. [She goes over to him and faces him]. You understand that? [He suddenly snatches her into his arms and kisses her]. Oh! You. dare do that again, you young blackguard; and I'll jab one of these chairs in your face [she seizes one and holds it in readiness]. Now you shall not see me for another month. HOTCHKISS [deliberately] I shall pay my first visit to your husband this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. Youll see what he'll say to you when I tell him what youve just done. HOTCHKISS. What can he say? What dare he say? MRS GEORGE. Suppose he kicks you out of the house? HOTCHKISS. How can he? Ive fought seven duels with sabres. Ive muscles of iron. Nothing hurts me: not even broken bones. Fighting is absolutely uninteresting to me because it doesnt frighten me or amuse me; and I always win. Your husband is in all these respects an average man, probably. He will be horribly afraid of me; and if under the stimulus of your presence, and for your sake, and because it is the right thing to do among vulgar people, he were to attack me, I should simply defeat him and humiliate him [he gradually gets his hands on the chair and takes it from her, as his words go home phrase by phrase]. Sooner than expose him to that, you would suffer a thousand stolen kisses, wouldnt you? MRS GEORGE [in utter consternation] You young viper! HOTCHKISS. Ha ha! You are in my power. That is one of the oversights of your code of honor for husbands: the man who can bully them can insult their wives with impunity. Tell him if you dare. If I choose to take ten kisses, how will you prevent me? MRS GEORGE. You come within reach of me and I'll not leave a hair on your head. HOTCHKISS [catching her wrists dexterously] Ive got your hands. MRS GEORGE. Youve not got my teeth. Let go; or I'll bite. I will, I tell you. Let go. HOTCHKISS. Bite away: I shall taste quite as nice as George. MRS GEORGE. You beast. Let me go. Do you call yourself a gentleman, to use your brute strength against a woman? HOTCHKISS. You are stronger than me in every way but this. Do you think I will give up my one advantage? Promise youll receive me when I call this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. After what youve just done? Not if it was to save my life. HOTCHKISS. I'll amuse George. MRS GEORGE. He wont be in. HOTCHKISS [taken aback] Do you mean that we should be alone? MRS GEORGE [snatching away her hands triumphantly as his grasp relaxes] Aha! Thats cooled you, has it? HOTCHKISS [anxiously] When will George be at home? MRS GEORGE. It wont matter to you whether he's at home or not. The door will be slammed in your face whenever you call. HOTCHKISS. No servant in London is strong enough to close a door that I mean to keep open. You cant escape me. If you persist, I'll go into the coal trade; make George's acquaintance on the coal exchange; and coax him to take me home with him to make your acquaintance. MRS GEORGE. We have no use for you, young man: neither George nor I [she sails away from him and sits down at the end of the table near the study door]. HOTCHKISS [following her and taking the next chair round the corner of the table] Yes you have. George cant fight for you: I can. MRS GEORGE [turning to face him] You bully. You low bully. HOTCHKISS. You have courage and fascination: I have courage and a pair of fists. We're both bullies, Polly. MRS GEORGE. You have a mischievous tongue. Thats enough to keep you out of my house. HOTCHKISS. It must be rather a house of cards. A word from me to George--just the right word, said in the right way--and down comes your house. MRS GEORGE. Thats why I'll die sooner than let you into it. HOTCHKISS. Then as surely as you live, I enter the coal trade to- morrow. George's taste for amusing company will deliver him into my hands. Before a month passes your home will be at my mercy. MRS GEORGE [rising, at bay] Do you think I'll let myself be driven into a trap like this? HOTCHKISS. You are in it already. Marriage is a trap. You are married. Any man who has the power to spoil your marriage has the power to spoil your life. I have that power over you. MRS GEORGE [desperate] You mean it? HOTCHKISS. I do. MRS GEORGE [resolutely] Well, spoil my marriage and be-- HOTCHKISS [springing up] Polly! MRS GEORGE. Sooner than be your slave I'd face any unhappiness. HOTCHKISS. What! Even for George? MRS GEORGE. There must be honor between me and George, happiness or no happiness. Do your worst. HOTCHKISS [admiring her] Are you really game, Polly? Dare you defy me? MRS GEORGE. If you ask me another question I shant be able to keep my hands off you [she dashes distractedly past him to the other end of the table, her fingers crisping]. HOTCHKISS. That settles it. Polly: I adore you: we were born for one another. As I happen to be a gentleman, I'll never do anything to annoy or injure you except that I reserve the right to give you a black eye if you bite me; but youll never get rid of me now to the end of your life. MRS GEORGE. I shall get rid of you if the beadle has to brain you with the mace for it [she makes for the tower]. HOTCHKISS [running between the table and the oak chest and across to the tower to cut her off] You shant. MRS GEORGE [panting] Shant I though? HOTCHKISS. No you shant. I have one card left to play that youve forgotten. Why were you so unlike yourself when you spoke to the Bishop? MRS GEORGE [agitated beyond measure] Stop. Not that. You shall respect that if you respect nothing else. I forbid you. [He kneels at her feet]. What are you doing? Get up: dont be a fool. HOTCHKISS. Polly: I ask you on my knees to let me make George's acquaintance in his home this afternoon; and I shall remain on my knees till the Bishop comes in and sees us. What will he think of you then? MRS GEORGE [beside herself] Wheres the poker? She rushes to the fireplace; seizes the poker; and makes for Hotchkiss, who flies to the study door. The Bishop enters just then and finds himself between them, narrowly escaping a blow from the poker. THE BISHOP. Dont hit him, Mrs Collins. He is my guest. Mrs George throws down the poker; collapses into the nearest chair; and bursts into tears. The Bishop goes to her and pats her consolingly on the shoulder. She shudders all through at his touch. THE BISHOP. Come! you are in the house of your friends. Can we help you? MRS GEORGE [to Hotchkiss, pointing to the study] Go in there, you. Youre not wanted here. HOTCHKISS. You understand, Bishop, that Mrs Collins is not to blame for this scene. I'm afraid Ive been rather irritating. THE BISHOP. I can quite believe it, Sinjon. Hotchkiss goes into the study. THE BISHOP [turning to Mrs George with great kindness of manner] I'm sorry you have been worried [he sits down on her left]. Never mind him. A little pluck, a little gaiety of heart, a little prayer; and youll be laughing at him. MRS GEORGE. Never fear. I have all that. It was as much my fault as his; and I should have put him in his place with a clip of that poker on the side of his head if you hadnt come in. THE BISHOP. You might have put him in his coffin that way, Mrs Collins. And I should have been very sorry; because we are all fond of Sinjon. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's your duty to rebuke me. But do you think I dont know? THE BISHOP. I dont rebuke you. Who am I that I should rebuke you? Besides, I know there are discussions in which the poker is the only possible argument. MRS GEORGE. My lord: be earnest with me. I'm a very funny woman, I daresay; but I come from the same workshop as you. I heard you say that yourself years ago. THE BISHOP. Quite so; but then I'm a very funny Bishop. Since we are both funny people, let us not forget that humor is a divine attribute. MRS GEORGE. I know nothing about divine attributes or whatever you call them; but I can feel when I am being belittled. It was from you that I learnt first to respect myself. It was through you that I came to be able to walk safely through many wild and wilful paths. Dont go back on your own teaching. THE BISHOP. I'm not a teacher: only a fellow-traveller of whom you asked the way. I pointed ahead--ahead of myself as well as of you. MRS GEORGE [rising and standing over him almost threateningly] As I'm a living woman this day, if I find you out to be a fraud, I'll kill myself. THE BISHOP. What! Kill yourself for finding out something! For becoming a wiser and therefore a better woman! What a bad reason! MRS GEORGE. I have sometimes thought of killing you, and then killing myself. THE BISHOP. Why on earth should you kill yourself--not to mention me? MRS GEORGE. So that we might keep our assignation in Heaven. THE BISHOP [rising and facing her, breathless] Mrs. Collins! YOU are Incognita Appassionata! MRS GEORGE. You read my letters, then? [With a sigh of grateful relief, she sits down quietly, and says] Thank you. THE BISHOP [remorsefully] And I have broken the spell by making you come here [sitting down again]. Can you ever forgive me? MRS GEORGE. You couldnt know that it was only the coal merchant's wife, could you? THE BISHOP. Why do you say only the coal merchant's wife? MRS GEORGE. Many people would laugh at it. THE BISHOP. Poor people! It's so hard to know the right place to laugh, isnt it? MRS GEORGE. I didnt mean to make you think the letters were from a fine lady. I wrote on cheap paper; and I never could spell. THE BISHOP. Neither could I. So that told me nothing. MRS GEORGE. One thing I should like you to know. THE BISHOP. Yes? MRS GEORGE. We didnt cheat your friend. They were as good as we could do at thirteen shillings a ton. THE BISHOP. Thats important. Thank you for telling me. MRS GEORGE. I have something else to say; but will you please ask somebody to come and stay here while we talk? [He rises and turns to the study door]. Not a woman, if you dont mind. [He nods understandingly and passes on]. Not a man either. THE BISHOP [stopping] Not a man and not a woman! We have no children left, Mrs Collins. They are all grown up and married. MRS GEORGE. That other clergyman would do. THE BISHOP. What! The sexton? MRS GEORGE. Yes. He didnt mind my calling him that, did he? It was only my ignorance. THE BISHOP. Not at all. [He opens the study door and calls] Soames! Anthony! [To Mrs George] Call him Father: he likes it. [Soames appears at the study door]. Mrs Collins wishes you to join us, Anthony. Soames looks puzzled. MRS GEORGE. You dont mind, Dad, do you? [As this greeting visibly gives him a shock that hardly bears out the Bishop's advice, she says anxiously] That was what you told me to call him, wasnt it? SOAMES. I am called Father Anthony, Mrs Collins. But it does not matter what you call me. [He comes in, and walks past her to the hearth]. THE BISHOP. Mrs Collins has something to say to me that she wants you to hear. SOAMES. I am listening. THE BISHOP [going back to his seat next her] Now. MRS GEORGE. My lord: you should never have married. SOAMES. This woman is inspired. Listen to her, my lord. THE BISHOP [taken aback by the directness of the attack] I married because I was so much in love with Alice that all the difficulties and doubts and dangers of marriage seemed to me the merest moonshine. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's mean to let poor things in for so much while theyre in that state. Would you marry now that you know better if you were a widower? THE BISHOP. I'm old now. It wouldnt matter. MRS GEORGE. But would you if it did matter? THE BISHOP. I think I should marry again lest anyone should imagine I had found marriage unhappy with Alice. SOAMES [sternly] Are you fonder of your wife than of your salvation? THE BISHOP. Oh, very much. When you meet a man who is very particular about his salvation, look out for a woman who is very particular about her character; and marry them to one another: theyll make a perfect pair. I advise you to fall in love; Anthony. SOAMES [with horror] I!! THE BISHOP. Yes, you! think of what it would do for you. For her sake you would come to care unselfishly and diligently for money instead of being selfishly and lazily indifferent to it. For her sake you would come to care in the same way for preferment. For her sake you would come to care for your health, your appearance, the good opinion of your fellow creatures, and all the really important things that make men work and strive instead of mooning and nursing their salvation. SOAMES. In one word, for the sake of one deadly sin I should come to care for all the others. THE BISHOP. Saint Anthony! Tempt him, Mrs Collins: tempt him. MRS GEORGE [rising and looking strangely before her] Take care, my lord: you still have the power to make me obey your commands. And do you, Mr Sexton, beware of an empty heart. THE BISHOP. Yes. Nature abhors a vacuum, Anthony. I would not dare go about with an empty heart: why, the first girl I met would fly into it by mere atmospheric pressure. Alice keeps them out now. Mrs Collins knows. MRS GEORGE [a faint convulsion passing like a wave over her] I know more than either of you. One of you has not yet exhausted his first love: the other has not yet reached it. But I--I--[she reels and is again convulsed]. THE BISHOP [saving her from falling] Whats the matter? Are you ill, Mrs Collins? [He gets her back into her chair]. Soames: theres a glass of water in the study--quick. [Soames hurries to the study door.] MRS. GEORGE. No. [Soames stops]. Dont call. Dont bring anyone. Cant you hear anything? THE BISHOP. Nothing unusual. [He sits by her, watching her with intense surprise and interest]. MRS GEORGE. No music? SOAMES. No. [He steals to the end of the table and sits on her right, equally interested]. MRS GEORGE. Do you see nothing--not a great light? THE BISHOP. We are still walking in darkness. MRS GEORGE. Put your hand on my forehead: the hand with the ring. [He does so. Her eyes close]. SOAMES [inspired to prophesy] There was a certain woman, the wife of a coal merchant, which had been a great sinner . . . The Bishop, startled, takes his hand away. Mrs George's eyes open vividly as she interrupts Soames. MRS GEORGE. You prophesy falsely, Anthony: never in all my life have I done anything that was not ordained for me. [More quietly] Ive been myself. Ive not been afraid of myself. And at last I have escaped from myself, and am become a voice for them that are afraid to speak, and a cry for the hearts that break in silence. SOAMES [whispering] Is she inspired? THE BISHOP. Marvellous. Hush. MRS GEORGE. I have earned the right to speak. I have dared: I have gone through: I have not fallen withered in the fire: I have come at last out beyond, to the back of Godspeed? THE BISHOP. And what do you see there, at the back of Godspeed? SOAMES [hungrily] Give us your message. MRS GEORGE [with intensely sad reproach] When you loved me I gave you the whole sun and stars to play with. I gave you eternity in a single moment, strength of the mountains in one clasp of your arms, and the volume of all the seas in one impulse of your souls. A moment only; but was it not enough? Were you not paid then for all the rest of your struggle on earth? Must I mend your clothes and sweep your floors as well? Was it not enough? I paid the price without bargaining: I bore the children without flinching: was that a reason for heaping fresh burdens on me? I carried the child in my arms: must I carry the father too? When I opened the gates of paradise, were you blind? was it nothing to you? When all the stars sang in your ears and all the winds swept you into the heart of heaven, were you deaf? were you dull? was I no more to you than a bone to a dog? Was it not enough? We spent eternity together; and you ask me for a little lifetime more. We possessed all the universe together; and you ask me to give you my scanty wages as well. I have given you the greatest of all things; and you ask me to give you little things. I gave you your own soul: you ask me for my body as a plaything. Was it not enough? Was it not enough? SOAMES. Do you understand this, my lord? THE BISHOP. I have that advantage over you, Anthony, thanks to Alice. [He takes Mrs George's hand]. Your hand is very cold. Can you come down to earth? Do you remember who I am, and who you are? MRS GEORGE. It was enough for me. I did not ask to meet you--to touch you--[the Bishop quickly releases her hand]. When you spoke to my soul years ago from your pulpit, you opened the doors of my salvation to me; and now they stand open for ever. It was enough: I have asked you for nothing since: I ask you for nothing now. I have lived: it is enough. I have had my wages; and I am ready for my work. I thank you and bless you and leave you. You are happier in that than I am; for when I do for men what you did for me, I have no thanks, and no blessing: I am their prey; and there is no rest from their loving and no mercy from their loathing. THE BISHOP. You must take us as we are, Mrs Collins. SOAMES. No. Take us as we are capable of becoming. MRS GEORGE. Take me as I am: I ask no more. [She turns her head to the study door and cries] Yes: come in, come in. Hotchkiss comes softly in from the study. HOTCHKISS. Will you be so kind as to tell me whether I am dreaming? In there I have heard Mrs Collins saying the strangest things, and not a syllable from you two. SOAMES. My lord; is this possession by the devil? THE BISHOP. Or the ecstasy of a saint? HOTCHKISS. Or the convulsion of the pythoness on the tripod? THE BISHOP. May not the three be one? MRS GEORGE [troubled] You are paining and tiring me with idle questions. You are dragging me back to myself. You are tormenting me with your evil dreams of saints and devils and--what was it?-- [striving to fathom it] the pythoness--the pythoness--[giving it up] I dont understand. I am a woman: a human creature like yourselves. Will you not take me as I am? SOAMES. Yes; but shall we take you and burn you? THE BISHOP. Or take you and canonize you? HOTCHKISS [gaily] Or take you as a matter of course? [Swiftly to the Bishop] We must get her out of this: it's dangerous. [Aloud to her] May I suggest that you shall be Anthony's devil and the Bishop's saint and my adored Polly? [Slipping behind her, he picks up her hand from her lap and kisses it over her shoulder]. MRS GEORGE [waking] What was that? Who kissed my hand? [To the Bishop, eagerly] Was it you? [He shakes his head. She is mortified]. I beg your pardon. THE BISHOP. Not at all. I'm not repudiating that honor. Allow me [he kisses her hand]. MRS GEORGE. Thank you for that. It was not the sexton, was it? SOAMES. I! HOTCHKISS. It was I, Polly, your ever faithful. MRS GEORGE [turning and seeing him] Let me catch you doing it again: thats all. How do you come there? I sent you away. [With great energy, becoming quite herself again] What the goodness gracious has been happening? HOTCHKISS. As far as I can make out, you have been having a very charming and eloquent sort of fit. MRS GEORGE [delighted] What! My second sight! [To the Bishop] Oh, how I have prayed that it might come to me if ever I met you! And now it has come. How stunning! You may believe every word I said: I cant remember it now; but it was something that was just bursting to be said; and so it laid hold of me and said itself. Thats how it is, you see. Edith and Cecil Sykes come in through the tower. She has her hat on. Leo follows. They have evidently been out together. Sykes, with an unnatural air, half foolish, half rakish, as if he had lost all his self-respect and were determined not to let it prey on his spirits, throws himself into a chair at the end of the table near the hearth and thrusts his hands into his pockets, like Hogarth's Rake, without waiting for Edith to sit down. She sits in the railed chair. Leo takes the chair nearest the tower on the long side of the table, brooding, with closed lips. THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. With Cecil? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding? No reply. Blank silence. SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie. EDITH. Tell them yourself. The General comes in from the garden. THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me with some tobacco? Ive finished mine; and my nerves are still far from settled. THE BISHOP. Wait a moment, Boxer. Cecil has something important to tell us. SYKES. Weve done it. Thats all. HOTCHKISS. Done what, Cecil? SYKES. Well, what do you suppose? EDITH. Got married, of course. THE GENERAL. Married! Who gave you away? SYKES [jerking his head towards the tower] This gentleman did.[Seeing that they do not understand, he looks round and sees that there is no one there]. Oh! I thought he came in with us. Hes gone downstairs, I suppose. The Beadle. THE GENERAL. The Beadle! What the devil did he do that for? SYKES. Oh, I dont know: I didnt make any bargain with him. [To Mrs George] How much ought I to give him, Mrs Collins? MRS GEORGE. Five shillings. [To the Bishop] I want to rest for a moment: there! in your study. I saw it here [she touches her forehead]. THE BISHOP [opening the study door for her] By all means. Turn my brother out if he disturbs you. Soames: bring the letters out here. SYKES. He wont be offended at my offering it, will he? MRS GEORGE. Not he! He touches children with the mace to cure them of ringworm for fourpence apiece. [She goes into the study. Soames follows her]. THE GENERAL. Well, Edith, I'm a little disappointed, I must say. However, I'm glad it was done by somebody in a public uniform. Mrs Bridgenorth and Lesbia come in through the tower. Mrs Bridgenorth makes for the Bishop. He goes to her, and they meet near the oak chest. Lesbia comes between Sykes and Edith. THE BISHOP. Alice, my love, theyre married. MRS BRIDGENORTH [placidly] Oh, well, thats all right. Better tell Collins. Soames comes back from the study with his writing materials. He seats himself at the nearest end of the table and goes on with his work. Hotchkiss sits down in the next chair round the table corner, with his back to him. LESBIA. You have both given in, have you? EDITH. Not at all. We have provided for everything. SOAMES. How? EDITH. Before going to the church, we went to the office of that insurance company--whats its name, Cecil? SYKES. The British Family Insurance Corporation. It insures you against poor relations and all sorts of family contingencies. EDITH. It has consented to insure Cecil against libel actions brought against him on my account. It will give us specially low terms because I am a Bishop's daughter. SYKES. And I have given Edie my solemn word that if I ever commit a crime I'll knock her down before a

divine

How many times the word 'divine' appears in the text?

First, he talks as if the only thing of any importance in life was which particular woman he shall marry. Second, he has no self-control. THE GENERAL. Women are not all the same to me, Lesbia. MRS GEORGE. Why should they be, pray? Women are all different: it's the men who are all the same. Besides, what does Miss Grantham know about either men or women? She's got too much self- control. LESBIA [widening her eyes and lifting her chin haughtily] And pray how does that prevent me from knowing as much about men and women as people who have no self-control? MRS GEORGE. Because it frightens people into behaving themselves before you; and then how can you tell what they really are? Look at me! I was a spoilt child. My brothers and sisters were well brought up, like all children of respectable publicans. So should I have been if I hadnt been the youngest: ten years younger than my youngest brother. My parents were tired of doing their duty by their children by that time; and they spoilt me for all they were worth. I never knew what it was to want money or anything that money could buy. When I wanted my own way, I had nothing to do but scream for it till I got it. When I was annoyed I didnt control myself: I scratched and called names. Did you ever, after you were grown up, pull a grown-up woman's hair? Did you ever bite a grown-up man? Did you ever call both of them every name you could lay your tongue to? LESBIA [shivering with disgust] No. MRS GEORGE. Well, I did. I know what a woman is like when her hair's pulled. I know what a man is like when he's bit. I know what theyre both like when you tell them what you really feel about them. And thats how I know more of the world than you. LESBIA. The Chinese know what a man is like when he is cut into a thousand pieces, or boiled in oil. That sort of knowledge is of no use to me. I'm afraid we shall never get on with one another, Mrs George. I live like a fencer, always on guard. I like to be confronted with people who are always on guard. I hate sloppy people, slovenly people, people who cant sit up straight, sentimental people. MRS GEORGE. Oh, sentimental your grandmother! You dont learn to hold your own in the world by standing on guard, but by attacking, and getting well hammered yourself. LESBIA. I'm not a prize-fighter, Mrs. Collins. If I cant get a thing without the indignity of fighting for it, I do without it. MRS GEORGE. Do you? Does it strike you that if we were all as clever as you at doing without, there wouldnt be much to live for, would there? TAE GENERAL. I'm afraid, Lesbia, the things you do without are the things you dont want. LESBIA [surprised at his wit] Thats not bad for the silly soldier man. Yes, Boxer: the truth is, I dont want you enough to make the very unreasonable sacrifices required by marriage. And yet that is exactly why I ought to be married. Just because I have the qualities my country wants most I shall go barren to my grave; whilst the women who have neither the strength to resist marriage nor the intelligence to understand its infinite dishonor will make the England of the future. [She rises and walks towards the study]. THE GENERAL [as she is about to pass him] Well, I shall not ask you again, Lesbia. LESBIA. Thank you, Boxer. [She passes on to the study door]. MRS GEORGE. Youre quite done with him, are you? LESBIA. As far as marriage is concerned, yes. The field is clear for you, Mrs George. [She goes into the study]. The General buries his face in his hands. Mrs George comes round the table to him. MRS GEORGE [sympathetically] She's a nice woman, that. And a sort of beauty about her too, different from anyone else. THE GENERAL [overwhelmed] Oh Mrs Collins, thank you, thank you a thousand times. [He rises effusively]. You have thawed the long- frozen springs [he kisses her hand]. Forgive me; and thank you: bless you--[he again takes refuge in the garden, choked with emotion]. MRS GEORGE [looking after him triumphantly] Just caught the dear old warrior on the bounce, eh? HOTCHKISS. Unfaithful to me already! MRS GEORGE. I'm not your property, young man dont you think it. [She goes over to him and faces him]. You understand that? [He suddenly snatches her into his arms and kisses her]. Oh! You. dare do that again, you young blackguard; and I'll jab one of these chairs in your face [she seizes one and holds it in readiness]. Now you shall not see me for another month. HOTCHKISS [deliberately] I shall pay my first visit to your husband this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. Youll see what he'll say to you when I tell him what youve just done. HOTCHKISS. What can he say? What dare he say? MRS GEORGE. Suppose he kicks you out of the house? HOTCHKISS. How can he? Ive fought seven duels with sabres. Ive muscles of iron. Nothing hurts me: not even broken bones. Fighting is absolutely uninteresting to me because it doesnt frighten me or amuse me; and I always win. Your husband is in all these respects an average man, probably. He will be horribly afraid of me; and if under the stimulus of your presence, and for your sake, and because it is the right thing to do among vulgar people, he were to attack me, I should simply defeat him and humiliate him [he gradually gets his hands on the chair and takes it from her, as his words go home phrase by phrase]. Sooner than expose him to that, you would suffer a thousand stolen kisses, wouldnt you? MRS GEORGE [in utter consternation] You young viper! HOTCHKISS. Ha ha! You are in my power. That is one of the oversights of your code of honor for husbands: the man who can bully them can insult their wives with impunity. Tell him if you dare. If I choose to take ten kisses, how will you prevent me? MRS GEORGE. You come within reach of me and I'll not leave a hair on your head. HOTCHKISS [catching her wrists dexterously] Ive got your hands. MRS GEORGE. Youve not got my teeth. Let go; or I'll bite. I will, I tell you. Let go. HOTCHKISS. Bite away: I shall taste quite as nice as George. MRS GEORGE. You beast. Let me go. Do you call yourself a gentleman, to use your brute strength against a woman? HOTCHKISS. You are stronger than me in every way but this. Do you think I will give up my one advantage? Promise youll receive me when I call this afternoon. MRS GEORGE. After what youve just done? Not if it was to save my life. HOTCHKISS. I'll amuse George. MRS GEORGE. He wont be in. HOTCHKISS [taken aback] Do you mean that we should be alone? MRS GEORGE [snatching away her hands triumphantly as his grasp relaxes] Aha! Thats cooled you, has it? HOTCHKISS [anxiously] When will George be at home? MRS GEORGE. It wont matter to you whether he's at home or not. The door will be slammed in your face whenever you call. HOTCHKISS. No servant in London is strong enough to close a door that I mean to keep open. You cant escape me. If you persist, I'll go into the coal trade; make George's acquaintance on the coal exchange; and coax him to take me home with him to make your acquaintance. MRS GEORGE. We have no use for you, young man: neither George nor I [she sails away from him and sits down at the end of the table near the study door]. HOTCHKISS [following her and taking the next chair round the corner of the table] Yes you have. George cant fight for you: I can. MRS GEORGE [turning to face him] You bully. You low bully. HOTCHKISS. You have courage and fascination: I have courage and a pair of fists. We're both bullies, Polly. MRS GEORGE. You have a mischievous tongue. Thats enough to keep you out of my house. HOTCHKISS. It must be rather a house of cards. A word from me to George--just the right word, said in the right way--and down comes your house. MRS GEORGE. Thats why I'll die sooner than let you into it. HOTCHKISS. Then as surely as you live, I enter the coal trade to- morrow. George's taste for amusing company will deliver him into my hands. Before a month passes your home will be at my mercy. MRS GEORGE [rising, at bay] Do you think I'll let myself be driven into a trap like this? HOTCHKISS. You are in it already. Marriage is a trap. You are married. Any man who has the power to spoil your marriage has the power to spoil your life. I have that power over you. MRS GEORGE [desperate] You mean it? HOTCHKISS. I do. MRS GEORGE [resolutely] Well, spoil my marriage and be-- HOTCHKISS [springing up] Polly! MRS GEORGE. Sooner than be your slave I'd face any unhappiness. HOTCHKISS. What! Even for George? MRS GEORGE. There must be honor between me and George, happiness or no happiness. Do your worst. HOTCHKISS [admiring her] Are you really game, Polly? Dare you defy me? MRS GEORGE. If you ask me another question I shant be able to keep my hands off you [she dashes distractedly past him to the other end of the table, her fingers crisping]. HOTCHKISS. That settles it. Polly: I adore you: we were born for one another. As I happen to be a gentleman, I'll never do anything to annoy or injure you except that I reserve the right to give you a black eye if you bite me; but youll never get rid of me now to the end of your life. MRS GEORGE. I shall get rid of you if the beadle has to brain you with the mace for it [she makes for the tower]. HOTCHKISS [running between the table and the oak chest and across to the tower to cut her off] You shant. MRS GEORGE [panting] Shant I though? HOTCHKISS. No you shant. I have one card left to play that youve forgotten. Why were you so unlike yourself when you spoke to the Bishop? MRS GEORGE [agitated beyond measure] Stop. Not that. You shall respect that if you respect nothing else. I forbid you. [He kneels at her feet]. What are you doing? Get up: dont be a fool. HOTCHKISS. Polly: I ask you on my knees to let me make George's acquaintance in his home this afternoon; and I shall remain on my knees till the Bishop comes in and sees us. What will he think of you then? MRS GEORGE [beside herself] Wheres the poker? She rushes to the fireplace; seizes the poker; and makes for Hotchkiss, who flies to the study door. The Bishop enters just then and finds himself between them, narrowly escaping a blow from the poker. THE BISHOP. Dont hit him, Mrs Collins. He is my guest. Mrs George throws down the poker; collapses into the nearest chair; and bursts into tears. The Bishop goes to her and pats her consolingly on the shoulder. She shudders all through at his touch. THE BISHOP. Come! you are in the house of your friends. Can we help you? MRS GEORGE [to Hotchkiss, pointing to the study] Go in there, you. Youre not wanted here. HOTCHKISS. You understand, Bishop, that Mrs Collins is not to blame for this scene. I'm afraid Ive been rather irritating. THE BISHOP. I can quite believe it, Sinjon. Hotchkiss goes into the study. THE BISHOP [turning to Mrs George with great kindness of manner] I'm sorry you have been worried [he sits down on her left]. Never mind him. A little pluck, a little gaiety of heart, a little prayer; and youll be laughing at him. MRS GEORGE. Never fear. I have all that. It was as much my fault as his; and I should have put him in his place with a clip of that poker on the side of his head if you hadnt come in. THE BISHOP. You might have put him in his coffin that way, Mrs Collins. And I should have been very sorry; because we are all fond of Sinjon. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's your duty to rebuke me. But do you think I dont know? THE BISHOP. I dont rebuke you. Who am I that I should rebuke you? Besides, I know there are discussions in which the poker is the only possible argument. MRS GEORGE. My lord: be earnest with me. I'm a very funny woman, I daresay; but I come from the same workshop as you. I heard you say that yourself years ago. THE BISHOP. Quite so; but then I'm a very funny Bishop. Since we are both funny people, let us not forget that humor is a divine attribute. MRS GEORGE. I know nothing about divine attributes or whatever you call them; but I can feel when I am being belittled. It was from you that I learnt first to respect myself. It was through you that I came to be able to walk safely through many wild and wilful paths. Dont go back on your own teaching. THE BISHOP. I'm not a teacher: only a fellow-traveller of whom you asked the way. I pointed ahead--ahead of myself as well as of you. MRS GEORGE [rising and standing over him almost threateningly] As I'm a living woman this day, if I find you out to be a fraud, I'll kill myself. THE BISHOP. What! Kill yourself for finding out something! For becoming a wiser and therefore a better woman! What a bad reason! MRS GEORGE. I have sometimes thought of killing you, and then killing myself. THE BISHOP. Why on earth should you kill yourself--not to mention me? MRS GEORGE. So that we might keep our assignation in Heaven. THE BISHOP [rising and facing her, breathless] Mrs. Collins! YOU are Incognita Appassionata! MRS GEORGE. You read my letters, then? [With a sigh of grateful relief, she sits down quietly, and says] Thank you. THE BISHOP [remorsefully] And I have broken the spell by making you come here [sitting down again]. Can you ever forgive me? MRS GEORGE. You couldnt know that it was only the coal merchant's wife, could you? THE BISHOP. Why do you say only the coal merchant's wife? MRS GEORGE. Many people would laugh at it. THE BISHOP. Poor people! It's so hard to know the right place to laugh, isnt it? MRS GEORGE. I didnt mean to make you think the letters were from a fine lady. I wrote on cheap paper; and I never could spell. THE BISHOP. Neither could I. So that told me nothing. MRS GEORGE. One thing I should like you to know. THE BISHOP. Yes? MRS GEORGE. We didnt cheat your friend. They were as good as we could do at thirteen shillings a ton. THE BISHOP. Thats important. Thank you for telling me. MRS GEORGE. I have something else to say; but will you please ask somebody to come and stay here while we talk? [He rises and turns to the study door]. Not a woman, if you dont mind. [He nods understandingly and passes on]. Not a man either. THE BISHOP [stopping] Not a man and not a woman! We have no children left, Mrs Collins. They are all grown up and married. MRS GEORGE. That other clergyman would do. THE BISHOP. What! The sexton? MRS GEORGE. Yes. He didnt mind my calling him that, did he? It was only my ignorance. THE BISHOP. Not at all. [He opens the study door and calls] Soames! Anthony! [To Mrs George] Call him Father: he likes it. [Soames appears at the study door]. Mrs Collins wishes you to join us, Anthony. Soames looks puzzled. MRS GEORGE. You dont mind, Dad, do you? [As this greeting visibly gives him a shock that hardly bears out the Bishop's advice, she says anxiously] That was what you told me to call him, wasnt it? SOAMES. I am called Father Anthony, Mrs Collins. But it does not matter what you call me. [He comes in, and walks past her to the hearth]. THE BISHOP. Mrs Collins has something to say to me that she wants you to hear. SOAMES. I am listening. THE BISHOP [going back to his seat next her] Now. MRS GEORGE. My lord: you should never have married. SOAMES. This woman is inspired. Listen to her, my lord. THE BISHOP [taken aback by the directness of the attack] I married because I was so much in love with Alice that all the difficulties and doubts and dangers of marriage seemed to me the merest moonshine. MRS GEORGE. Yes: it's mean to let poor things in for so much while theyre in that state. Would you marry now that you know better if you were a widower? THE BISHOP. I'm old now. It wouldnt matter. MRS GEORGE. But would you if it did matter? THE BISHOP. I think I should marry again lest anyone should imagine I had found marriage unhappy with Alice. SOAMES [sternly] Are you fonder of your wife than of your salvation? THE BISHOP. Oh, very much. When you meet a man who is very particular about his salvation, look out for a woman who is very particular about her character; and marry them to one another: theyll make a perfect pair. I advise you to fall in love; Anthony. SOAMES [with horror] I!! THE BISHOP. Yes, you! think of what it would do for you. For her sake you would come to care unselfishly and diligently for money instead of being selfishly and lazily indifferent to it. For her sake you would come to care in the same way for preferment. For her sake you would come to care for your health, your appearance, the good opinion of your fellow creatures, and all the really important things that make men work and strive instead of mooning and nursing their salvation. SOAMES. In one word, for the sake of one deadly sin I should come to care for all the others. THE BISHOP. Saint Anthony! Tempt him, Mrs Collins: tempt him. MRS GEORGE [rising and looking strangely before her] Take care, my lord: you still have the power to make me obey your commands. And do you, Mr Sexton, beware of an empty heart. THE BISHOP. Yes. Nature abhors a vacuum, Anthony. I would not dare go about with an empty heart: why, the first girl I met would fly into it by mere atmospheric pressure. Alice keeps them out now. Mrs Collins knows. MRS GEORGE [a faint convulsion passing like a wave over her] I know more than either of you. One of you has not yet exhausted his first love: the other has not yet reached it. But I--I--[she reels and is again convulsed]. THE BISHOP [saving her from falling] Whats the matter? Are you ill, Mrs Collins? [He gets her back into her chair]. Soames: theres a glass of water in the study--quick. [Soames hurries to the study door.] MRS. GEORGE. No. [Soames stops]. Dont call. Dont bring anyone. Cant you hear anything? THE BISHOP. Nothing unusual. [He sits by her, watching her with intense surprise and interest]. MRS GEORGE. No music? SOAMES. No. [He steals to the end of the table and sits on her right, equally interested]. MRS GEORGE. Do you see nothing--not a great light? THE BISHOP. We are still walking in darkness. MRS GEORGE. Put your hand on my forehead: the hand with the ring. [He does so. Her eyes close]. SOAMES [inspired to prophesy] There was a certain woman, the wife of a coal merchant, which had been a great sinner . . . The Bishop, startled, takes his hand away. Mrs George's eyes open vividly as she interrupts Soames. MRS GEORGE. You prophesy falsely, Anthony: never in all my life have I done anything that was not ordained for me. [More quietly] Ive been myself. Ive not been afraid of myself. And at last I have escaped from myself, and am become a voice for them that are afraid to speak, and a cry for the hearts that break in silence. SOAMES [whispering] Is she inspired? THE BISHOP. Marvellous. Hush. MRS GEORGE. I have earned the right to speak. I have dared: I have gone through: I have not fallen withered in the fire: I have come at last out beyond, to the back of Godspeed? THE BISHOP. And what do you see there, at the back of Godspeed? SOAMES [hungrily] Give us your message. MRS GEORGE [with intensely sad reproach] When you loved me I gave you the whole sun and stars to play with. I gave you eternity in a single moment, strength of the mountains in one clasp of your arms, and the volume of all the seas in one impulse of your souls. A moment only; but was it not enough? Were you not paid then for all the rest of your struggle on earth? Must I mend your clothes and sweep your floors as well? Was it not enough? I paid the price without bargaining: I bore the children without flinching: was that a reason for heaping fresh burdens on me? I carried the child in my arms: must I carry the father too? When I opened the gates of paradise, were you blind? was it nothing to you? When all the stars sang in your ears and all the winds swept you into the heart of heaven, were you deaf? were you dull? was I no more to you than a bone to a dog? Was it not enough? We spent eternity together; and you ask me for a little lifetime more. We possessed all the universe together; and you ask me to give you my scanty wages as well. I have given you the greatest of all things; and you ask me to give you little things. I gave you your own soul: you ask me for my body as a plaything. Was it not enough? Was it not enough? SOAMES. Do you understand this, my lord? THE BISHOP. I have that advantage over you, Anthony, thanks to Alice. [He takes Mrs George's hand]. Your hand is very cold. Can you come down to earth? Do you remember who I am, and who you are? MRS GEORGE. It was enough for me. I did not ask to meet you--to touch you--[the Bishop quickly releases her hand]. When you spoke to my soul years ago from your pulpit, you opened the doors of my salvation to me; and now they stand open for ever. It was enough: I have asked you for nothing since: I ask you for nothing now. I have lived: it is enough. I have had my wages; and I am ready for my work. I thank you and bless you and leave you. You are happier in that than I am; for when I do for men what you did for me, I have no thanks, and no blessing: I am their prey; and there is no rest from their loving and no mercy from their loathing. THE BISHOP. You must take us as we are, Mrs Collins. SOAMES. No. Take us as we are capable of becoming. MRS GEORGE. Take me as I am: I ask no more. [She turns her head to the study door and cries] Yes: come in, come in. Hotchkiss comes softly in from the study. HOTCHKISS. Will you be so kind as to tell me whether I am dreaming? In there I have heard Mrs Collins saying the strangest things, and not a syllable from you two. SOAMES. My lord; is this possession by the devil? THE BISHOP. Or the ecstasy of a saint? HOTCHKISS. Or the convulsion of the pythoness on the tripod? THE BISHOP. May not the three be one? MRS GEORGE [troubled] You are paining and tiring me with idle questions. You are dragging me back to myself. You are tormenting me with your evil dreams of saints and devils and--what was it?-- [striving to fathom it] the pythoness--the pythoness--[giving it up] I dont understand. I am a woman: a human creature like yourselves. Will you not take me as I am? SOAMES. Yes; but shall we take you and burn you? THE BISHOP. Or take you and canonize you? HOTCHKISS [gaily] Or take you as a matter of course? [Swiftly to the Bishop] We must get her out of this: it's dangerous. [Aloud to her] May I suggest that you shall be Anthony's devil and the Bishop's saint and my adored Polly? [Slipping behind her, he picks up her hand from her lap and kisses it over her shoulder]. MRS GEORGE [waking] What was that? Who kissed my hand? [To the Bishop, eagerly] Was it you? [He shakes his head. She is mortified]. I beg your pardon. THE BISHOP. Not at all. I'm not repudiating that honor. Allow me [he kisses her hand]. MRS GEORGE. Thank you for that. It was not the sexton, was it? SOAMES. I! HOTCHKISS. It was I, Polly, your ever faithful. MRS GEORGE [turning and seeing him] Let me catch you doing it again: thats all. How do you come there? I sent you away. [With great energy, becoming quite herself again] What the goodness gracious has been happening? HOTCHKISS. As far as I can make out, you have been having a very charming and eloquent sort of fit. MRS GEORGE [delighted] What! My second sight! [To the Bishop] Oh, how I have prayed that it might come to me if ever I met you! And now it has come. How stunning! You may believe every word I said: I cant remember it now; but it was something that was just bursting to be said; and so it laid hold of me and said itself. Thats how it is, you see. Edith and Cecil Sykes come in through the tower. She has her hat on. Leo follows. They have evidently been out together. Sykes, with an unnatural air, half foolish, half rakish, as if he had lost all his self-respect and were determined not to let it prey on his spirits, throws himself into a chair at the end of the table near the hearth and thrusts his hands into his pockets, like Hogarth's Rake, without waiting for Edith to sit down. She sits in the railed chair. Leo takes the chair nearest the tower on the long side of the table, brooding, with closed lips. THE BISHOP. Have you been out, my dear? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. With Cecil? EDITH. Yes. THE BISHOP. Have you come to an understanding? No reply. Blank silence. SYKES. You had better tell them, Edie. EDITH. Tell them yourself. The General comes in from the garden. THE GENERAL [coming forward to the table] Can anybody oblige me with some tobacco? Ive finished mine; and my nerves are still far from settled. THE BISHOP. Wait a moment, Boxer. Cecil has something important to tell us. SYKES. Weve done it. Thats all. HOTCHKISS. Done what, Cecil? SYKES. Well, what do you suppose? EDITH. Got married, of course. THE GENERAL. Married! Who gave you away? SYKES [jerking his head towards the tower] This gentleman did.[Seeing that they do not understand, he looks round and sees that there is no one there]. Oh! I thought he came in with us. Hes gone downstairs, I suppose. The Beadle. THE GENERAL. The Beadle! What the devil did he do that for? SYKES. Oh, I dont know: I didnt make any bargain with him. [To Mrs George] How much ought I to give him, Mrs Collins? MRS GEORGE. Five shillings. [To the Bishop] I want to rest for a moment: there! in your study. I saw it here [she touches her forehead]. THE BISHOP [opening the study door for her] By all means. Turn my brother out if he disturbs you. Soames: bring the letters out here. SYKES. He wont be offended at my offering it, will he? MRS GEORGE. Not he! He touches children with the mace to cure them of ringworm for fourpence apiece. [She goes into the study. Soames follows her]. THE GENERAL. Well, Edith, I'm a little disappointed, I must say. However, I'm glad it was done by somebody in a public uniform. Mrs Bridgenorth and Lesbia come in through the tower. Mrs Bridgenorth makes for the Bishop. He goes to her, and they meet near the oak chest. Lesbia comes between Sykes and Edith. THE BISHOP. Alice, my love, theyre married. MRS BRIDGENORTH [placidly] Oh, well, thats all right. Better tell Collins. Soames comes back from the study with his writing materials. He seats himself at the nearest end of the table and goes on with his work. Hotchkiss sits down in the next chair round the table corner, with his back to him. LESBIA. You have both given in, have you? EDITH. Not at all. We have provided for everything. SOAMES. How? EDITH. Before going to the church, we went to the office of that insurance company--whats its name, Cecil? SYKES. The British Family Insurance Corporation. It insures you against poor relations and all sorts of family contingencies. EDITH. It has consented to insure Cecil against libel actions brought against him on my account. It will give us specially low terms because I am a Bishop's daughter. SYKES. And I have given Edie my solemn word that if I ever commit a crime I'll knock her down before a

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Fiume in half an hour." "To Fiume?" "Yes. You know he has a brother coming home from America." "I know that." "His ship is due in at Fiume the day after to-morrow. Leopold must start by the same train as your father to-night, in order to catch the express for Fiume at Budapesth to-morrow." "Did he tell you all that?" "I have known all along that he meant to meet his brother at Fiume, and yesterday he said something about it again. So you see, my pretty one, that we can have a comfortable little supper this evening without fear of interruption. We'll have it at ten o'clock, when the supper-party is going on at the barn, eh? We shan't be interrupted then. So give me that duplicate key, will you, and I can slip in quietly through the back door without raising a bit of gossip or scandal. Hurry up now! I shall have to be going." "I can't now," she protested. "Leopold hasn't taken his eyes off me all this time." "Oh! if that is all that is troubling you, my dear," said the young man coolly, "I can easily settle our friend Leopold. Hirsch!" he called loudly. "My lord?" queried the other, with the quick obsequiousness habitual to the down-trodden race. "My horse is kicking up such a row outside. I wish you'd just go and see if the boy is looking after him properly." Of course it was impossible to do anything but obey. My lord had commanded; in the ordinary way the poor Jew shopkeeper would have felt honoured to have been selected for individual recognition. Nor did he do more now than throw one of those swift looks of his--so full of hatred and of menace--upon Klara and the young man; but the latter, having given his orders, no longer condescended to take notice of the Jew and had once more engaged the girl in animated conversation. Had Klara thought of looking up when Leopold finally obeyed my lord's commands and went to look after the horse, she could not have failed to realize the danger which lurked in the young man's pale eyes then. His face, always pale and olive-tinted, was now the colour of ashes, grey and livid and blotched with purple, his lips looked white and quivering, and his eyebrows--of a reddish tinge--met above his nose in a deep, dark scowl. But my lord had thrown out a casual hint about a gold watch, and Klara had no further thought for her jealous admirer. "Now go and fetch the key," said Count Feri, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold. The hint of the gold watch had stirred Klara's pulses. A _t te- -t te_ with my lord was, moreover, greatly to her liking. He could be very amusing when he chose, and was always generous; and Klara's life was often dull and colourless. A pleasant evening spent in his company would compensate her in a measure for her disappointment at not being asked to Elsa's ball, and there was the gold watch to look forward to, above all. Taking an opportunity when her father was absorbed in his game of tarok, she went into the next room and presently returned with a key in her hand, which she surreptitiously gave to my lord. "Splendid!" exclaimed the young man gaily. "Klara, you are a gem, and after supper you shall just ask me for anything you have a fancy for, and I'll give it to you. Now I'd better go. Good-bye, little one. Ten o'clock sharp, eh?" "Ten o'clock," she repeated, under her breath. He strode to the door, outside which he found Leopold waiting for him. "The horse was quite quiet, my lord," said the Jew sullenly; "the boy had never left it for a moment." "Oh! that's all right, Hirsch," rejoined my lord indifferently. "I only wanted to know." Of course he never thought of saying a word of thanks or of excuse to the other man. What would you? A Jew! Bah! not even worth a nod of the head. Count Feri R kosy had quickly mounted his pretty, half-bred Arab mare--a click of the tongue and she was off with him, kicking up a cloud of dust in her wake. But Leopold Hirsch had remained for a moment standing on the doorstep of Ign cz Goldstein's house. He watched horse and rider through that cloud of dust, and along the straight and broad highway, until both had become a mere speck upon the low-lying horizon. "May you break your accursed neck!" he muttered fervently. Then he went back to the tap-room. CHAPTER XX "You happen to be of my race and of my blood." He strode at once to Klara, who greeted him with an ironical little smile and a coquettish look out of her dark eyes. "You never told me that you were going away to-night, my dear Leopold," she said suavely. "Who told you that I was?" he retorted savagely. "It seems to be pretty well known about the place. You seemed to have been talking about it pretty freely that you were going to Fiume to meet your brother when the ship he is on comes in." "I meant to tell you just now, only his lordship's arrival interrupted me," he said more quietly. "And since then you have been busy making a fool of yourself before my lord, eh?" she asked. "Bah!" "And compromising me into the bargain, what? But let me tell you this, my good Leopold, before we go any further, that I am not married to you yet, and that I don't like your airs of proprietorship, _sabe_?" He could not say anything more just then, for customers were departing, and she had to attend to them; he did not try to approach her while she was thus engaged, but presently, when her back was turned, he contrived to work his way across to the door which gave on the inner room, and to push it slightly open with his hand, until he could peep through the aperture and take a quick survey of the room beyond. Klara had not seen this manoeuvre of his, although she had cast more than one rapid and furtive glance upon him while she attended to her customers. She was thankful that he was going away for a few days; in his present mood he was positively dangerous. She had lighted the oil lamp which hung from the centre of the low, raftered ceiling, the hour was getting late, customers were all leaving now one by one. Er s B la was one of the last to go. He had drunk rather more silvorium than was good for him. He knew quite well that by absenting himself from the pre-nuptial festivals he had behaved in a disgraceful and unjustifiable manner which would surely be resented throughout the village, and though he was quite sure that he did not care one brass fill r what all those ignorant peasants thought of him, yet he felt it incumbent upon him to brace up his courage now, before meeting the hostile fusillade of eyes which would be sure to greet him on his return to the barn. He meant to put in a short appearance there, and then to finish his evening here in Klara's company. He felt that his dignity demanded that he should absent himself at any rate from the supper, seeing that Elsa had so grossly defied him. "At ten o'clock I'll be back, Klara," he whispered, in the girl's ear, as he was about to take his departure along with some of his friends, who also intended to go on to the dance in the barn. "Indeed you won't," she retorted decisively, "I have no use for you, my good B la. You are almost a married man now, remember!" she added with a laugh. "I'll bring those bottles of champagne," he urged; "don't be hard on me, Klara. I'll give you a good time to-night, and a nice present into the bargain." "And ruin my reputation for ever, eh? By walking into the tap-room when it's full of people and carrying two bottles of champagne under your arm--or staying on ostentatiously after everyone has gone and for everyone to gossip. No, thank you; I've already told you that I am not going to lend myself to your little games of vengeance. It isn't me you want, it's petty revenge upon Elsa. To that I say no, thank you, my good man." "Klara!" he pleaded. "No!" she said, and unceremoniously turned her back on him. He went off, sullen and morose, and not a little chaffed for his moroseness by his friends. The tap-room was almost deserted for the moment. In one or two corners only a few stragglers lingered; they were sprawling across the tables with arms outstretched. Ign cz Goldstein's silvorium had proved too potent and too plentiful. They lay there in a drunken sleep--logs that were of no account. Presently they would have to be thrown out, but there was no hurry for that--they were not in the way. Ign cz Goldstein had gone into the next room. Klara was busy tidying up the place; Leopold approached her with well-feigned contrition and humility. "I am sorry, Klara," he said. "I seemed to have had the knack to-night of constantly annoying you. So I'd best begone now, perhaps." "I bear no malice, Leo," she said quietly. "I thought I'd come back at about nine o'clock," he continued. "It is nearly eight now." She, thinking that he had his own journey in mind, remarked casually: "You'd best be here well before nine. The train leaves at nine-twenty, and father walks very slowly." "I won't be late," he said. "Best give me the key of the back door. I'll let myself in that way." "No occasion to do that," she retorted. "The front door will be open. You can come in that way like everybody else." "It's just a fancy," he said quietly; "there might be a lot of people about just then. I don't want to come through here. I thought I'd just slip in the back way as I often do. So give me the key, Klara, will you?" "How can I give you the key of the back door?" she said, equally quietly; "you know father always carries it in his coat pocket." "But there is a second key," he remarked, "which hangs on a nail by your father's bedside in the next room. Give me that one, Klara." "I shan't," she retorted. "I never heard such nonsense! As if I could allow you to use the private door of this house just as it suits your fancy. If you want to come in to-night and say good-bye, you must come in by the front door." "It's just a whim of mine, Klara," urged Leopold, now still speaking quietly--almost under his breath--but there was an ominous tremor in his voice and sudden sharp gleams in his eyes which the girl had already noted and which caused the blood to rush back to her heart, leaving her cheeks pale and her lips trembling. "Nonsense!" she contrived to say, with an indifferent shrug of the shoulders. "Just a whim," he reiterated. "So I'll take the key, by your leave." He turned to the door of the inner room and pushed it open, just as he had done awhile ago, and now--as then--he cast a rapid glance round the room. Klara, through half-closed lids, watched his every movement. "Why!" he exclaimed, turning back to her, and with a look of well-feigned surprise, "the key is not in its place." "I know it isn't," she retorted curtly. "Then where is it?" "I have put it away." "When? It was hanging on its usual nail when I first came here this afternoon. I remember the door being open, and my glancing into the room casually. I am sure it was there then." "It may have been: but I put it away after that." "Why should you have done that?" "I don't know, and, anyhow, it's no business of yours, is it?" "Give me that back-door key, Klara," insisted the young man, in a tone of savage command. "No!" she replied, slowly and decisively. There was silence in the little, low raftered room after that, a silence only broken by the buzzing of flies against the white globe of the lamp, and by the snores of the sleepers who sprawled across the tables. Leopold Hirsch had drawn in his breath with a low, hissing sound; his face, by the yellow light of the lamp, looked ghastly in colour, and his hands were twitching convulsively as the trembling fingers clenched and opened with a monotonous, jerky movement of attempted self-control. Klara had not failed to notice these symptoms of an agony of mind which the young man was so vainly trying to hide from her. For the moment she almost felt sorry for him--sorry and slightly remorseful. After all, Leo's frame of mind, the agony which he endured, came from the strength of his love for her. Neither Er s B la, nor the young Count, nor the many admirers who had hung round her in the past until such time as their fancy found more permanent anchorage elsewhere, would have suffered tortures of soul and of heart because she had indulged in a mild flirtation with a rival. Er s B la would have stormed and cursed, the young Count would have laid his riding-whip across the shoulders of his successful rival and there would have been an end of the matter. Leopold Hirsch would go down to hell and endure the torments of the damned, then return to heaven at a smile from her, and go back to hell again and glory in his misery. But just now she was frightened of him; he looked almost like a living corpse; the skin on his face was drawn so tightly over the bones that it gave him the appearance of a skull with hollow eyes and wide, grinning mouth. Outside an owl hooted dismally. Klara gave a slight shiver of fear and looked furtively round her to see if any of the drunkards were awake. Then she recollected that her father was in the next room, and presently, from afar, came shouts of laughter and the sound of music. She woke as from a nightmare, gave her fine shoulders a little shake, and looked boldly into her jealous lover's face. "By the Lord, Leo!" she said, with a little forced laugh, "you have given me the creeps, looking as you do. How dare you frighten me like that? With your clenched hands, too, as if you wanted to murder me. There, now, don't be such a silly fool. You have got a long journey before you; it's no use making yourself sick with jealousy just before you go." "I am not going on a journey," he said, in a toneless, even voice, which seemed to come from a grave. "Not going?" she said, with a frown of puzzlement. "You were going to Fiume to meet your brother, don't you remember? The ship he is on is due in the day after to-morrow. If you don't start to-night you won't be able to catch the express at Budapesth to-morrow." "I know all that," he said, in the same dull, monotonous tone; "I am not going, that's all." "But . . ." "I have changed my mind. Your father is going away. I must watch over you to see that no one molests you. Thieves might want to break in . . . one never knows . . . anyhow, my brother can look after himself . . . I stay to look after you." For a moment or two she stood quite still, her senses strained to grasp the meaning, the purport of the present situation--this madman on the watch outside--the young Count, key in hand, swaggering up to the back door at ten o'clock, when most folk would be at supper in the barn, her father gone, the village street wrapped in darkness! Leopold, by a violent and sudden effort, had regained mastery over the muscles of his face and hands, these no longer twitched now, and he answered her look of mute inquiry with one of well-feigned quietude. Only his breath he could not control, it passed through his throat with a stertorous sound, and every now and then he had to pass his tongue over his dry, cracked lips. Thus they stood for a moment eye to eye; and what she read in his glance caused a nameless fear to strike at her heart and to paralyse her will. But the next instant she had recovered her presence of mind. With quick, febrile movements she had already taken off her apron and with her hands smoothed her unruly dark hair. Then she made for the door. Less than a second and already he had guessed her purpose: before she could reach the door he had his back against it and his nervy fingers had grasped her wrist. "Where are you going?" "Out," she said curtly. "What for?" "That's none of your business." "What for?" he reiterated hoarsely. "Let go my wrist," she exclaimed, "you are hurting me." "I'll hurt you worse," he cried, in a broken voice, "if you cross this threshold to-night." But he released her wrist, and she, wrathful, indignant, terrified, retreated to the other end of the room. "Go out by the back door," he sneered, "if you want to go out. You have the key, haven't you?" "My father . . ." she began. "Yes!" he said. "Go and tell your father that I, Leopold Hirsch, your affianced husband, am browbeating you--making a scene, what?--because you have made an assignation with my lord the young Count, here--at night--under your father's roof--under the roof of a child of Israel! You! An assignation with a dirty Christian! . . . Bah! Go and tell your father that! And he will thrash you to within an inch of your life! We are Jews, he and I, and hold the honour of our women sacred--more sacred than their life!" "Don't be a fool, Leopold," she cried, feeling that indeed, between her father and this madman, her life had ceased to be safe. She looked round her helplessly. Three or four besotted fools lying helpless across the tables, and all the village dancing and making merry some two hundred m tres away, her father--implacable, as she well knew, where her conduct was concerned--and this madman ready to kill to satisfy his lust of vengeance and of hate--she felt that indeed, unless Heaven performed a miracle, here was the beginning of an awful, an irredeemable tragedy. "Leopold, don't be a fool," she reiterated, trying with all her might not to appear frightened or scared or confused. "I have promised Kapus Elsa to go to her dance for half an hour. I had forgotten all about it. I must go now." "Go and change your dress, then," he retorted with a sneer, "then you can go out by the back way. You have put the key away somewhere, haven't you? You know where it is." "You are mad about doors to-night. I tell you I am going out now, by that front door--at once." "And I tell you," he said, slowly and deliberately, "that if you cross the front door step I will call your father and tell him that you go and meet your lover--a Christian lover--the young Count--who would as soon think of marrying you as he would a nigger or a kitchen slut. Before you will have reached the high road your father and I will be on your heels, and either he or I will strangle you ere you come within sight of my lord's castle." "You are mad!" she cried. "Or else an idiot." "Better look for that back-door key," he retorted. "What has the back-door key to do with it?" she asked sullenly. "Only this," he replied, "that while that monkey-faced dog of a Christian was whispering to you just now, I know that the key was hanging on its usual peg, but I heard something about 'supper' and about 'ten o'clock.' May he break his neck, I say, and save me the job. Then he ordered me out of the room. Oh! I guessed! I am no fool, you know! When I came back I looked into your father's room--the key was gone, and I knew. And what I say is, why can't he come in by the front door like a man, if he has nothing to hide? Why must you let him come in like a thief by a back-door, if you have nothing to be ashamed of? The tap-room is open to anybody. Anybody can walk in and get a drink if they want to. Then why this whispering and this sneaking?" He was working himself up to a greater and ever greater passion of fury. He kept his voice low because he didn't want Ign cz Goldstein to hear--not just yet, at any rate--for Ign cz was a hard man and a stern father, and God only knew what he might not do if he was roused. Leopold did not want Klara hurt--not yet, at any rate--not until he was quite sure that she meant to play him altogether false. She was vain and frivolous, over-fond of dress and of queening it over the peasant girls of the village, but there was no real harm in her. She was immensely flattered by the young Count's attentions and over-ready to accept his presents in exchange for kisses and whisperings behind closed doors, but there was no real harm in her--so at least Leopold Hirsch kept repeating to himself time and again, whenever jealousy gnawed at his heart more roughly than he could endure. Just now that torment was almost unbearable, and the passion of fury into which he had worked himself blinded him momentarily to the dull, aching pain. Klara, as he spoke thus hoarsely, and brought his contorted face closer and closer to hers, had gradually shrunk more and more into the corner of the room, and there she remained now, flattened against the wall, her wide-open, terror-filled eyes fixed staringly upon this raving madman. "You asked just now," he continued, in the same hoarse, guttural whisper, which seemed literally to be racking and tearing his throat as it came, "what the back-door key had to do with my not going to meet my brother at Fiume. Well! It has this much to do with it, that you happen to be my tokened wife, that you happen to be of my race and of my blood, a sober, clean-living Jewess, please God, and not one of those frivolous, empty-headed Christian girls--you are that now, I know; if you were not I would kill you first and myself afterwards: therefore, if to-night I catch a thief--any thief, I don't care who he is--sneaking into this house by a back door when you happen to be here alone and seemingly unprotected, if I catch any kind of thief or malefactor, I say . . ." He paused, and she, through teeth that chattered, contrived to murmur: "Well? What do you say? Why don't you go on?" "Because you understand," he said, with calm as sudden and as terrible as his rage had been awhile ago. "I am not a Christian, you know, nor yet a gentleman. I cannot walk up either to my lord's castle or to one of these Christian Magyar peasants and strike him in the face for trying to rob me of that which is more precious to me than life. I am a Jew . . . a low-born, miserable Jew, whose whole race, origin and upbringing are despicable in the sight of the noble lords as well as of the Hungarian peasantry. Just a wretched creature whom one orders to hold one's horse, to brush one's boots, to stand out of one's way, anyhow; but not to meet as man to man, not to fight openly and frankly for the woman whom one loves. Well! You happen to be a Jewess too, and tokened to a Jew, and if either my lord or one of these d----d Magyar peasants chooses to come sneaking round you like a thief in the night, well . . ." He paused, and from the pocket of his shabby trousers he half drew out a long, sheathed hunting-knife, and then quickly hid it again from her sight. Klara smothered a desperate cry of terror. Leopold now turned his back on her; he went up to the table and seizing a carafe of water, he poured himself out a huge mugful and drank it down at a draught. The edge of the mug rattled against his teeth, his hand was trembling so that half the contents were poured down on his clothes. He did not look again on Klara, but having put the mug down, he passed his hand once or twice across his forehead as if to chase away some of those horrible thoughts which were still lurking in his brain. Then he took his cigarette-case out of his pocket, selected a cigarette, struck a match and lit it, still avoiding Klara's fixed and staring gaze. "I'll go and smoke this outside," he said quietly. "I can see both doors from the corner. When you have found that back-door key you may go to Elsa Kapus' wedding feast, but not before." He took a final look round the room, and his eyes, which had once more become dull and pale, rested with an infinite look of contempt upon the two or three besotted drunkards who, throughout this scene, had done no more than open and blink a sleepy eye. "Shall I turn these louts out for you now?" he asked. "No, no," she replied mechanically, "let them have their sleep. When they wake they'll go away all right." Just then the outer door was opened and Lakatos Andor's broad figure appeared upon the threshold. Leopold Hirsch gave him a nod, and without another look on Klara, he strode out into the night. CHAPTER XXI "Jealous, like a madman." "I came to see if B la was still here," said Andor, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold Hirsch. "One or two chaps whom I met awhile ago told me that he had not been seen in the barn this hour past, and that there was a lot of talk about it. I thought that if he were here, I could persuade you . . ." He paused, and looked more keenly at the girl. "What is it, Klara?" he asked; "you seem ill or upset . . ." She closed her eyes once or twice like someone just waking out of a dream, then she passed her hands over her forehead and over her hair. She felt completely dazed and stupid, as if she had received a stunning blow on the head, and while Andor talked she looked at him with staring eyes, not understanding a word that he said. "Yes--yes, Andor?" she said vaguely. "What can I do for you?" "Nothing much, my good Klara," he replied; "it was only about B la . . ." "Yes--about B la," she stammered; "won't . . . won't you sit down?" "Thank you, I will for a moment." She moved forward in order to get him a chair, but she found that she could not stand. The moment that she relinquished the prop of the wall, her knees gave way under her and she lurched forward against the table. She would have fallen had not Andor caught her and guided her to a chair, whereon she sank half fainting, with eyes closed and cheeks and lips the colour of ashes. Just for the moment the wild thought flew through his mind that she had been induced to drink by one of the men, but a closer look on her wan, pale face and into those dilated eyes of hers convinced him that the girl was in real and acute mental distress. He went up to the table and poured out a mug of wine, which he held to her lips. She drank eagerly, looking up at him the while with a strangely pathetic, eagerly appealing gaze. When he had taken the mug from her and replaced it on the table, he drew a chair close to her and said as kindly as he could, for he did not feel very well-disposed toward the girl who was the cause of much unhappiness to Elsa: "Now, Klara, you are going to tell me what is the matter with you." But already she had recovered herself a little, and Lakatos Andor's somewhat dictatorial tone grated upon her sensitive ear. "There's nothing the matter with me," she retorted, with a return of her habitual flippancy. "What should be the matter?" "I don't know," he said dryly; "and, of course, if you tell me that it's a private affair of your own and none of my business, why I'll be quite satisfied, and not ask any more questions. But if it's anything to do with B la . . ." "No, of course not," she broke in impatiently. "What should B la have to do with my affairs? B la has been gone from here this hour past." "And he is not coming back?" asked Andor searchingly. "I trust not," she replied fervently, and the young man noticed that the staring, terror-filled look once more crept into her eyes. "Very well, then," he said, rising, "that is all I wanted to know. I am sorry to have disturbed you. Good-night,

leo

How many times the word 'leo' appears in the text?

Fiume in half an hour." "To Fiume?" "Yes. You know he has a brother coming home from America." "I know that." "His ship is due in at Fiume the day after to-morrow. Leopold must start by the same train as your father to-night, in order to catch the express for Fiume at Budapesth to-morrow." "Did he tell you all that?" "I have known all along that he meant to meet his brother at Fiume, and yesterday he said something about it again. So you see, my pretty one, that we can have a comfortable little supper this evening without fear of interruption. We'll have it at ten o'clock, when the supper-party is going on at the barn, eh? We shan't be interrupted then. So give me that duplicate key, will you, and I can slip in quietly through the back door without raising a bit of gossip or scandal. Hurry up now! I shall have to be going." "I can't now," she protested. "Leopold hasn't taken his eyes off me all this time." "Oh! if that is all that is troubling you, my dear," said the young man coolly, "I can easily settle our friend Leopold. Hirsch!" he called loudly. "My lord?" queried the other, with the quick obsequiousness habitual to the down-trodden race. "My horse is kicking up such a row outside. I wish you'd just go and see if the boy is looking after him properly." Of course it was impossible to do anything but obey. My lord had commanded; in the ordinary way the poor Jew shopkeeper would have felt honoured to have been selected for individual recognition. Nor did he do more now than throw one of those swift looks of his--so full of hatred and of menace--upon Klara and the young man; but the latter, having given his orders, no longer condescended to take notice of the Jew and had once more engaged the girl in animated conversation. Had Klara thought of looking up when Leopold finally obeyed my lord's commands and went to look after the horse, she could not have failed to realize the danger which lurked in the young man's pale eyes then. His face, always pale and olive-tinted, was now the colour of ashes, grey and livid and blotched with purple, his lips looked white and quivering, and his eyebrows--of a reddish tinge--met above his nose in a deep, dark scowl. But my lord had thrown out a casual hint about a gold watch, and Klara had no further thought for her jealous admirer. "Now go and fetch the key," said Count Feri, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold. The hint of the gold watch had stirred Klara's pulses. A _t te- -t te_ with my lord was, moreover, greatly to her liking. He could be very amusing when he chose, and was always generous; and Klara's life was often dull and colourless. A pleasant evening spent in his company would compensate her in a measure for her disappointment at not being asked to Elsa's ball, and there was the gold watch to look forward to, above all. Taking an opportunity when her father was absorbed in his game of tarok, she went into the next room and presently returned with a key in her hand, which she surreptitiously gave to my lord. "Splendid!" exclaimed the young man gaily. "Klara, you are a gem, and after supper you shall just ask me for anything you have a fancy for, and I'll give it to you. Now I'd better go. Good-bye, little one. Ten o'clock sharp, eh?" "Ten o'clock," she repeated, under her breath. He strode to the door, outside which he found Leopold waiting for him. "The horse was quite quiet, my lord," said the Jew sullenly; "the boy had never left it for a moment." "Oh! that's all right, Hirsch," rejoined my lord indifferently. "I only wanted to know." Of course he never thought of saying a word of thanks or of excuse to the other man. What would you? A Jew! Bah! not even worth a nod of the head. Count Feri R kosy had quickly mounted his pretty, half-bred Arab mare--a click of the tongue and she was off with him, kicking up a cloud of dust in her wake. But Leopold Hirsch had remained for a moment standing on the doorstep of Ign cz Goldstein's house. He watched horse and rider through that cloud of dust, and along the straight and broad highway, until both had become a mere speck upon the low-lying horizon. "May you break your accursed neck!" he muttered fervently. Then he went back to the tap-room. CHAPTER XX "You happen to be of my race and of my blood." He strode at once to Klara, who greeted him with an ironical little smile and a coquettish look out of her dark eyes. "You never told me that you were going away to-night, my dear Leopold," she said suavely. "Who told you that I was?" he retorted savagely. "It seems to be pretty well known about the place. You seemed to have been talking about it pretty freely that you were going to Fiume to meet your brother when the ship he is on comes in." "I meant to tell you just now, only his lordship's arrival interrupted me," he said more quietly. "And since then you have been busy making a fool of yourself before my lord, eh?" she asked. "Bah!" "And compromising me into the bargain, what? But let me tell you this, my good Leopold, before we go any further, that I am not married to you yet, and that I don't like your airs of proprietorship, _sabe_?" He could not say anything more just then, for customers were departing, and she had to attend to them; he did not try to approach her while she was thus engaged, but presently, when her back was turned, he contrived to work his way across to the door which gave on the inner room, and to push it slightly open with his hand, until he could peep through the aperture and take a quick survey of the room beyond. Klara had not seen this manoeuvre of his, although she had cast more than one rapid and furtive glance upon him while she attended to her customers. She was thankful that he was going away for a few days; in his present mood he was positively dangerous. She had lighted the oil lamp which hung from the centre of the low, raftered ceiling, the hour was getting late, customers were all leaving now one by one. Er s B la was one of the last to go. He had drunk rather more silvorium than was good for him. He knew quite well that by absenting himself from the pre-nuptial festivals he had behaved in a disgraceful and unjustifiable manner which would surely be resented throughout the village, and though he was quite sure that he did not care one brass fill r what all those ignorant peasants thought of him, yet he felt it incumbent upon him to brace up his courage now, before meeting the hostile fusillade of eyes which would be sure to greet him on his return to the barn. He meant to put in a short appearance there, and then to finish his evening here in Klara's company. He felt that his dignity demanded that he should absent himself at any rate from the supper, seeing that Elsa had so grossly defied him. "At ten o'clock I'll be back, Klara," he whispered, in the girl's ear, as he was about to take his departure along with some of his friends, who also intended to go on to the dance in the barn. "Indeed you won't," she retorted decisively, "I have no use for you, my good B la. You are almost a married man now, remember!" she added with a laugh. "I'll bring those bottles of champagne," he urged; "don't be hard on me, Klara. I'll give you a good time to-night, and a nice present into the bargain." "And ruin my reputation for ever, eh? By walking into the tap-room when it's full of people and carrying two bottles of champagne under your arm--or staying on ostentatiously after everyone has gone and for everyone to gossip. No, thank you; I've already told you that I am not going to lend myself to your little games of vengeance. It isn't me you want, it's petty revenge upon Elsa. To that I say no, thank you, my good man." "Klara!" he pleaded. "No!" she said, and unceremoniously turned her back on him. He went off, sullen and morose, and not a little chaffed for his moroseness by his friends. The tap-room was almost deserted for the moment. In one or two corners only a few stragglers lingered; they were sprawling across the tables with arms outstretched. Ign cz Goldstein's silvorium had proved too potent and too plentiful. They lay there in a drunken sleep--logs that were of no account. Presently they would have to be thrown out, but there was no hurry for that--they were not in the way. Ign cz Goldstein had gone into the next room. Klara was busy tidying up the place; Leopold approached her with well-feigned contrition and humility. "I am sorry, Klara," he said. "I seemed to have had the knack to-night of constantly annoying you. So I'd best begone now, perhaps." "I bear no malice, Leo," she said quietly. "I thought I'd come back at about nine o'clock," he continued. "It is nearly eight now." She, thinking that he had his own journey in mind, remarked casually: "You'd best be here well before nine. The train leaves at nine-twenty, and father walks very slowly." "I won't be late," he said. "Best give me the key of the back door. I'll let myself in that way." "No occasion to do that," she retorted. "The front door will be open. You can come in that way like everybody else." "It's just a fancy," he said quietly; "there might be a lot of people about just then. I don't want to come through here. I thought I'd just slip in the back way as I often do. So give me the key, Klara, will you?" "How can I give you the key of the back door?" she said, equally quietly; "you know father always carries it in his coat pocket." "But there is a second key," he remarked, "which hangs on a nail by your father's bedside in the next room. Give me that one, Klara." "I shan't," she retorted. "I never heard such nonsense! As if I could allow you to use the private door of this house just as it suits your fancy. If you want to come in to-night and say good-bye, you must come in by the front door." "It's just a whim of mine, Klara," urged Leopold, now still speaking quietly--almost under his breath--but there was an ominous tremor in his voice and sudden sharp gleams in his eyes which the girl had already noted and which caused the blood to rush back to her heart, leaving her cheeks pale and her lips trembling. "Nonsense!" she contrived to say, with an indifferent shrug of the shoulders. "Just a whim," he reiterated. "So I'll take the key, by your leave." He turned to the door of the inner room and pushed it open, just as he had done awhile ago, and now--as then--he cast a rapid glance round the room. Klara, through half-closed lids, watched his every movement. "Why!" he exclaimed, turning back to her, and with a look of well-feigned surprise, "the key is not in its place." "I know it isn't," she retorted curtly. "Then where is it?" "I have put it away." "When? It was hanging on its usual nail when I first came here this afternoon. I remember the door being open, and my glancing into the room casually. I am sure it was there then." "It may have been: but I put it away after that." "Why should you have done that?" "I don't know, and, anyhow, it's no business of yours, is it?" "Give me that back-door key, Klara," insisted the young man, in a tone of savage command. "No!" she replied, slowly and decisively. There was silence in the little, low raftered room after that, a silence only broken by the buzzing of flies against the white globe of the lamp, and by the snores of the sleepers who sprawled across the tables. Leopold Hirsch had drawn in his breath with a low, hissing sound; his face, by the yellow light of the lamp, looked ghastly in colour, and his hands were twitching convulsively as the trembling fingers clenched and opened with a monotonous, jerky movement of attempted self-control. Klara had not failed to notice these symptoms of an agony of mind which the young man was so vainly trying to hide from her. For the moment she almost felt sorry for him--sorry and slightly remorseful. After all, Leo's frame of mind, the agony which he endured, came from the strength of his love for her. Neither Er s B la, nor the young Count, nor the many admirers who had hung round her in the past until such time as their fancy found more permanent anchorage elsewhere, would have suffered tortures of soul and of heart because she had indulged in a mild flirtation with a rival. Er s B la would have stormed and cursed, the young Count would have laid his riding-whip across the shoulders of his successful rival and there would have been an end of the matter. Leopold Hirsch would go down to hell and endure the torments of the damned, then return to heaven at a smile from her, and go back to hell again and glory in his misery. But just now she was frightened of him; he looked almost like a living corpse; the skin on his face was drawn so tightly over the bones that it gave him the appearance of a skull with hollow eyes and wide, grinning mouth. Outside an owl hooted dismally. Klara gave a slight shiver of fear and looked furtively round her to see if any of the drunkards were awake. Then she recollected that her father was in the next room, and presently, from afar, came shouts of laughter and the sound of music. She woke as from a nightmare, gave her fine shoulders a little shake, and looked boldly into her jealous lover's face. "By the Lord, Leo!" she said, with a little forced laugh, "you have given me the creeps, looking as you do. How dare you frighten me like that? With your clenched hands, too, as if you wanted to murder me. There, now, don't be such a silly fool. You have got a long journey before you; it's no use making yourself sick with jealousy just before you go." "I am not going on a journey," he said, in a toneless, even voice, which seemed to come from a grave. "Not going?" she said, with a frown of puzzlement. "You were going to Fiume to meet your brother, don't you remember? The ship he is on is due in the day after to-morrow. If you don't start to-night you won't be able to catch the express at Budapesth to-morrow." "I know all that," he said, in the same dull, monotonous tone; "I am not going, that's all." "But . . ." "I have changed my mind. Your father is going away. I must watch over you to see that no one molests you. Thieves might want to break in . . . one never knows . . . anyhow, my brother can look after himself . . . I stay to look after you." For a moment or two she stood quite still, her senses strained to grasp the meaning, the purport of the present situation--this madman on the watch outside--the young Count, key in hand, swaggering up to the back door at ten o'clock, when most folk would be at supper in the barn, her father gone, the village street wrapped in darkness! Leopold, by a violent and sudden effort, had regained mastery over the muscles of his face and hands, these no longer twitched now, and he answered her look of mute inquiry with one of well-feigned quietude. Only his breath he could not control, it passed through his throat with a stertorous sound, and every now and then he had to pass his tongue over his dry, cracked lips. Thus they stood for a moment eye to eye; and what she read in his glance caused a nameless fear to strike at her heart and to paralyse her will. But the next instant she had recovered her presence of mind. With quick, febrile movements she had already taken off her apron and with her hands smoothed her unruly dark hair. Then she made for the door. Less than a second and already he had guessed her purpose: before she could reach the door he had his back against it and his nervy fingers had grasped her wrist. "Where are you going?" "Out," she said curtly. "What for?" "That's none of your business." "What for?" he reiterated hoarsely. "Let go my wrist," she exclaimed, "you are hurting me." "I'll hurt you worse," he cried, in a broken voice, "if you cross this threshold to-night." But he released her wrist, and she, wrathful, indignant, terrified, retreated to the other end of the room. "Go out by the back door," he sneered, "if you want to go out. You have the key, haven't you?" "My father . . ." she began. "Yes!" he said. "Go and tell your father that I, Leopold Hirsch, your affianced husband, am browbeating you--making a scene, what?--because you have made an assignation with my lord the young Count, here--at night--under your father's roof--under the roof of a child of Israel! You! An assignation with a dirty Christian! . . . Bah! Go and tell your father that! And he will thrash you to within an inch of your life! We are Jews, he and I, and hold the honour of our women sacred--more sacred than their life!" "Don't be a fool, Leopold," she cried, feeling that indeed, between her father and this madman, her life had ceased to be safe. She looked round her helplessly. Three or four besotted fools lying helpless across the tables, and all the village dancing and making merry some two hundred m tres away, her father--implacable, as she well knew, where her conduct was concerned--and this madman ready to kill to satisfy his lust of vengeance and of hate--she felt that indeed, unless Heaven performed a miracle, here was the beginning of an awful, an irredeemable tragedy. "Leopold, don't be a fool," she reiterated, trying with all her might not to appear frightened or scared or confused. "I have promised Kapus Elsa to go to her dance for half an hour. I had forgotten all about it. I must go now." "Go and change your dress, then," he retorted with a sneer, "then you can go out by the back way. You have put the key away somewhere, haven't you? You know where it is." "You are mad about doors to-night. I tell you I am going out now, by that front door--at once." "And I tell you," he said, slowly and deliberately, "that if you cross the front door step I will call your father and tell him that you go and meet your lover--a Christian lover--the young Count--who would as soon think of marrying you as he would a nigger or a kitchen slut. Before you will have reached the high road your father and I will be on your heels, and either he or I will strangle you ere you come within sight of my lord's castle." "You are mad!" she cried. "Or else an idiot." "Better look for that back-door key," he retorted. "What has the back-door key to do with it?" she asked sullenly. "Only this," he replied, "that while that monkey-faced dog of a Christian was whispering to you just now, I know that the key was hanging on its usual peg, but I heard something about 'supper' and about 'ten o'clock.' May he break his neck, I say, and save me the job. Then he ordered me out of the room. Oh! I guessed! I am no fool, you know! When I came back I looked into your father's room--the key was gone, and I knew. And what I say is, why can't he come in by the front door like a man, if he has nothing to hide? Why must you let him come in like a thief by a back-door, if you have nothing to be ashamed of? The tap-room is open to anybody. Anybody can walk in and get a drink if they want to. Then why this whispering and this sneaking?" He was working himself up to a greater and ever greater passion of fury. He kept his voice low because he didn't want Ign cz Goldstein to hear--not just yet, at any rate--for Ign cz was a hard man and a stern father, and God only knew what he might not do if he was roused. Leopold did not want Klara hurt--not yet, at any rate--not until he was quite sure that she meant to play him altogether false. She was vain and frivolous, over-fond of dress and of queening it over the peasant girls of the village, but there was no real harm in her. She was immensely flattered by the young Count's attentions and over-ready to accept his presents in exchange for kisses and whisperings behind closed doors, but there was no real harm in her--so at least Leopold Hirsch kept repeating to himself time and again, whenever jealousy gnawed at his heart more roughly than he could endure. Just now that torment was almost unbearable, and the passion of fury into which he had worked himself blinded him momentarily to the dull, aching pain. Klara, as he spoke thus hoarsely, and brought his contorted face closer and closer to hers, had gradually shrunk more and more into the corner of the room, and there she remained now, flattened against the wall, her wide-open, terror-filled eyes fixed staringly upon this raving madman. "You asked just now," he continued, in the same hoarse, guttural whisper, which seemed literally to be racking and tearing his throat as it came, "what the back-door key had to do with my not going to meet my brother at Fiume. Well! It has this much to do with it, that you happen to be my tokened wife, that you happen to be of my race and of my blood, a sober, clean-living Jewess, please God, and not one of those frivolous, empty-headed Christian girls--you are that now, I know; if you were not I would kill you first and myself afterwards: therefore, if to-night I catch a thief--any thief, I don't care who he is--sneaking into this house by a back door when you happen to be here alone and seemingly unprotected, if I catch any kind of thief or malefactor, I say . . ." He paused, and she, through teeth that chattered, contrived to murmur: "Well? What do you say? Why don't you go on?" "Because you understand," he said, with calm as sudden and as terrible as his rage had been awhile ago. "I am not a Christian, you know, nor yet a gentleman. I cannot walk up either to my lord's castle or to one of these Christian Magyar peasants and strike him in the face for trying to rob me of that which is more precious to me than life. I am a Jew . . . a low-born, miserable Jew, whose whole race, origin and upbringing are despicable in the sight of the noble lords as well as of the Hungarian peasantry. Just a wretched creature whom one orders to hold one's horse, to brush one's boots, to stand out of one's way, anyhow; but not to meet as man to man, not to fight openly and frankly for the woman whom one loves. Well! You happen to be a Jewess too, and tokened to a Jew, and if either my lord or one of these d----d Magyar peasants chooses to come sneaking round you like a thief in the night, well . . ." He paused, and from the pocket of his shabby trousers he half drew out a long, sheathed hunting-knife, and then quickly hid it again from her sight. Klara smothered a desperate cry of terror. Leopold now turned his back on her; he went up to the table and seizing a carafe of water, he poured himself out a huge mugful and drank it down at a draught. The edge of the mug rattled against his teeth, his hand was trembling so that half the contents were poured down on his clothes. He did not look again on Klara, but having put the mug down, he passed his hand once or twice across his forehead as if to chase away some of those horrible thoughts which were still lurking in his brain. Then he took his cigarette-case out of his pocket, selected a cigarette, struck a match and lit it, still avoiding Klara's fixed and staring gaze. "I'll go and smoke this outside," he said quietly. "I can see both doors from the corner. When you have found that back-door key you may go to Elsa Kapus' wedding feast, but not before." He took a final look round the room, and his eyes, which had once more become dull and pale, rested with an infinite look of contempt upon the two or three besotted drunkards who, throughout this scene, had done no more than open and blink a sleepy eye. "Shall I turn these louts out for you now?" he asked. "No, no," she replied mechanically, "let them have their sleep. When they wake they'll go away all right." Just then the outer door was opened and Lakatos Andor's broad figure appeared upon the threshold. Leopold Hirsch gave him a nod, and without another look on Klara, he strode out into the night. CHAPTER XXI "Jealous, like a madman." "I came to see if B la was still here," said Andor, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold Hirsch. "One or two chaps whom I met awhile ago told me that he had not been seen in the barn this hour past, and that there was a lot of talk about it. I thought that if he were here, I could persuade you . . ." He paused, and looked more keenly at the girl. "What is it, Klara?" he asked; "you seem ill or upset . . ." She closed her eyes once or twice like someone just waking out of a dream, then she passed her hands over her forehead and over her hair. She felt completely dazed and stupid, as if she had received a stunning blow on the head, and while Andor talked she looked at him with staring eyes, not understanding a word that he said. "Yes--yes, Andor?" she said vaguely. "What can I do for you?" "Nothing much, my good Klara," he replied; "it was only about B la . . ." "Yes--about B la," she stammered; "won't . . . won't you sit down?" "Thank you, I will for a moment." She moved forward in order to get him a chair, but she found that she could not stand. The moment that she relinquished the prop of the wall, her knees gave way under her and she lurched forward against the table. She would have fallen had not Andor caught her and guided her to a chair, whereon she sank half fainting, with eyes closed and cheeks and lips the colour of ashes. Just for the moment the wild thought flew through his mind that she had been induced to drink by one of the men, but a closer look on her wan, pale face and into those dilated eyes of hers convinced him that the girl was in real and acute mental distress. He went up to the table and poured out a mug of wine, which he held to her lips. She drank eagerly, looking up at him the while with a strangely pathetic, eagerly appealing gaze. When he had taken the mug from her and replaced it on the table, he drew a chair close to her and said as kindly as he could, for he did not feel very well-disposed toward the girl who was the cause of much unhappiness to Elsa: "Now, Klara, you are going to tell me what is the matter with you." But already she had recovered herself a little, and Lakatos Andor's somewhat dictatorial tone grated upon her sensitive ear. "There's nothing the matter with me," she retorted, with a return of her habitual flippancy. "What should be the matter?" "I don't know," he said dryly; "and, of course, if you tell me that it's a private affair of your own and none of my business, why I'll be quite satisfied, and not ask any more questions. But if it's anything to do with B la . . ." "No, of course not," she broke in impatiently. "What should B la have to do with my affairs? B la has been gone from here this hour past." "And he is not coming back?" asked Andor searchingly. "I trust not," she replied fervently, and the young man noticed that the staring, terror-filled look once more crept into her eyes. "Very well, then," he said, rising, "that is all I wanted to know. I am sorry to have disturbed you. Good-night,

endured

How many times the word 'endured' appears in the text?

Fiume in half an hour." "To Fiume?" "Yes. You know he has a brother coming home from America." "I know that." "His ship is due in at Fiume the day after to-morrow. Leopold must start by the same train as your father to-night, in order to catch the express for Fiume at Budapesth to-morrow." "Did he tell you all that?" "I have known all along that he meant to meet his brother at Fiume, and yesterday he said something about it again. So you see, my pretty one, that we can have a comfortable little supper this evening without fear of interruption. We'll have it at ten o'clock, when the supper-party is going on at the barn, eh? We shan't be interrupted then. So give me that duplicate key, will you, and I can slip in quietly through the back door without raising a bit of gossip or scandal. Hurry up now! I shall have to be going." "I can't now," she protested. "Leopold hasn't taken his eyes off me all this time." "Oh! if that is all that is troubling you, my dear," said the young man coolly, "I can easily settle our friend Leopold. Hirsch!" he called loudly. "My lord?" queried the other, with the quick obsequiousness habitual to the down-trodden race. "My horse is kicking up such a row outside. I wish you'd just go and see if the boy is looking after him properly." Of course it was impossible to do anything but obey. My lord had commanded; in the ordinary way the poor Jew shopkeeper would have felt honoured to have been selected for individual recognition. Nor did he do more now than throw one of those swift looks of his--so full of hatred and of menace--upon Klara and the young man; but the latter, having given his orders, no longer condescended to take notice of the Jew and had once more engaged the girl in animated conversation. Had Klara thought of looking up when Leopold finally obeyed my lord's commands and went to look after the horse, she could not have failed to realize the danger which lurked in the young man's pale eyes then. His face, always pale and olive-tinted, was now the colour of ashes, grey and livid and blotched with purple, his lips looked white and quivering, and his eyebrows--of a reddish tinge--met above his nose in a deep, dark scowl. But my lord had thrown out a casual hint about a gold watch, and Klara had no further thought for her jealous admirer. "Now go and fetch the key," said Count Feri, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold. The hint of the gold watch had stirred Klara's pulses. A _t te- -t te_ with my lord was, moreover, greatly to her liking. He could be very amusing when he chose, and was always generous; and Klara's life was often dull and colourless. A pleasant evening spent in his company would compensate her in a measure for her disappointment at not being asked to Elsa's ball, and there was the gold watch to look forward to, above all. Taking an opportunity when her father was absorbed in his game of tarok, she went into the next room and presently returned with a key in her hand, which she surreptitiously gave to my lord. "Splendid!" exclaimed the young man gaily. "Klara, you are a gem, and after supper you shall just ask me for anything you have a fancy for, and I'll give it to you. Now I'd better go. Good-bye, little one. Ten o'clock sharp, eh?" "Ten o'clock," she repeated, under her breath. He strode to the door, outside which he found Leopold waiting for him. "The horse was quite quiet, my lord," said the Jew sullenly; "the boy had never left it for a moment." "Oh! that's all right, Hirsch," rejoined my lord indifferently. "I only wanted to know." Of course he never thought of saying a word of thanks or of excuse to the other man. What would you? A Jew! Bah! not even worth a nod of the head. Count Feri R kosy had quickly mounted his pretty, half-bred Arab mare--a click of the tongue and she was off with him, kicking up a cloud of dust in her wake. But Leopold Hirsch had remained for a moment standing on the doorstep of Ign cz Goldstein's house. He watched horse and rider through that cloud of dust, and along the straight and broad highway, until both had become a mere speck upon the low-lying horizon. "May you break your accursed neck!" he muttered fervently. Then he went back to the tap-room. CHAPTER XX "You happen to be of my race and of my blood." He strode at once to Klara, who greeted him with an ironical little smile and a coquettish look out of her dark eyes. "You never told me that you were going away to-night, my dear Leopold," she said suavely. "Who told you that I was?" he retorted savagely. "It seems to be pretty well known about the place. You seemed to have been talking about it pretty freely that you were going to Fiume to meet your brother when the ship he is on comes in." "I meant to tell you just now, only his lordship's arrival interrupted me," he said more quietly. "And since then you have been busy making a fool of yourself before my lord, eh?" she asked. "Bah!" "And compromising me into the bargain, what? But let me tell you this, my good Leopold, before we go any further, that I am not married to you yet, and that I don't like your airs of proprietorship, _sabe_?" He could not say anything more just then, for customers were departing, and she had to attend to them; he did not try to approach her while she was thus engaged, but presently, when her back was turned, he contrived to work his way across to the door which gave on the inner room, and to push it slightly open with his hand, until he could peep through the aperture and take a quick survey of the room beyond. Klara had not seen this manoeuvre of his, although she had cast more than one rapid and furtive glance upon him while she attended to her customers. She was thankful that he was going away for a few days; in his present mood he was positively dangerous. She had lighted the oil lamp which hung from the centre of the low, raftered ceiling, the hour was getting late, customers were all leaving now one by one. Er s B la was one of the last to go. He had drunk rather more silvorium than was good for him. He knew quite well that by absenting himself from the pre-nuptial festivals he had behaved in a disgraceful and unjustifiable manner which would surely be resented throughout the village, and though he was quite sure that he did not care one brass fill r what all those ignorant peasants thought of him, yet he felt it incumbent upon him to brace up his courage now, before meeting the hostile fusillade of eyes which would be sure to greet him on his return to the barn. He meant to put in a short appearance there, and then to finish his evening here in Klara's company. He felt that his dignity demanded that he should absent himself at any rate from the supper, seeing that Elsa had so grossly defied him. "At ten o'clock I'll be back, Klara," he whispered, in the girl's ear, as he was about to take his departure along with some of his friends, who also intended to go on to the dance in the barn. "Indeed you won't," she retorted decisively, "I have no use for you, my good B la. You are almost a married man now, remember!" she added with a laugh. "I'll bring those bottles of champagne," he urged; "don't be hard on me, Klara. I'll give you a good time to-night, and a nice present into the bargain." "And ruin my reputation for ever, eh? By walking into the tap-room when it's full of people and carrying two bottles of champagne under your arm--or staying on ostentatiously after everyone has gone and for everyone to gossip. No, thank you; I've already told you that I am not going to lend myself to your little games of vengeance. It isn't me you want, it's petty revenge upon Elsa. To that I say no, thank you, my good man." "Klara!" he pleaded. "No!" she said, and unceremoniously turned her back on him. He went off, sullen and morose, and not a little chaffed for his moroseness by his friends. The tap-room was almost deserted for the moment. In one or two corners only a few stragglers lingered; they were sprawling across the tables with arms outstretched. Ign cz Goldstein's silvorium had proved too potent and too plentiful. They lay there in a drunken sleep--logs that were of no account. Presently they would have to be thrown out, but there was no hurry for that--they were not in the way. Ign cz Goldstein had gone into the next room. Klara was busy tidying up the place; Leopold approached her with well-feigned contrition and humility. "I am sorry, Klara," he said. "I seemed to have had the knack to-night of constantly annoying you. So I'd best begone now, perhaps." "I bear no malice, Leo," she said quietly. "I thought I'd come back at about nine o'clock," he continued. "It is nearly eight now." She, thinking that he had his own journey in mind, remarked casually: "You'd best be here well before nine. The train leaves at nine-twenty, and father walks very slowly." "I won't be late," he said. "Best give me the key of the back door. I'll let myself in that way." "No occasion to do that," she retorted. "The front door will be open. You can come in that way like everybody else." "It's just a fancy," he said quietly; "there might be a lot of people about just then. I don't want to come through here. I thought I'd just slip in the back way as I often do. So give me the key, Klara, will you?" "How can I give you the key of the back door?" she said, equally quietly; "you know father always carries it in his coat pocket." "But there is a second key," he remarked, "which hangs on a nail by your father's bedside in the next room. Give me that one, Klara." "I shan't," she retorted. "I never heard such nonsense! As if I could allow you to use the private door of this house just as it suits your fancy. If you want to come in to-night and say good-bye, you must come in by the front door." "It's just a whim of mine, Klara," urged Leopold, now still speaking quietly--almost under his breath--but there was an ominous tremor in his voice and sudden sharp gleams in his eyes which the girl had already noted and which caused the blood to rush back to her heart, leaving her cheeks pale and her lips trembling. "Nonsense!" she contrived to say, with an indifferent shrug of the shoulders. "Just a whim," he reiterated. "So I'll take the key, by your leave." He turned to the door of the inner room and pushed it open, just as he had done awhile ago, and now--as then--he cast a rapid glance round the room. Klara, through half-closed lids, watched his every movement. "Why!" he exclaimed, turning back to her, and with a look of well-feigned surprise, "the key is not in its place." "I know it isn't," she retorted curtly. "Then where is it?" "I have put it away." "When? It was hanging on its usual nail when I first came here this afternoon. I remember the door being open, and my glancing into the room casually. I am sure it was there then." "It may have been: but I put it away after that." "Why should you have done that?" "I don't know, and, anyhow, it's no business of yours, is it?" "Give me that back-door key, Klara," insisted the young man, in a tone of savage command. "No!" she replied, slowly and decisively. There was silence in the little, low raftered room after that, a silence only broken by the buzzing of flies against the white globe of the lamp, and by the snores of the sleepers who sprawled across the tables. Leopold Hirsch had drawn in his breath with a low, hissing sound; his face, by the yellow light of the lamp, looked ghastly in colour, and his hands were twitching convulsively as the trembling fingers clenched and opened with a monotonous, jerky movement of attempted self-control. Klara had not failed to notice these symptoms of an agony of mind which the young man was so vainly trying to hide from her. For the moment she almost felt sorry for him--sorry and slightly remorseful. After all, Leo's frame of mind, the agony which he endured, came from the strength of his love for her. Neither Er s B la, nor the young Count, nor the many admirers who had hung round her in the past until such time as their fancy found more permanent anchorage elsewhere, would have suffered tortures of soul and of heart because she had indulged in a mild flirtation with a rival. Er s B la would have stormed and cursed, the young Count would have laid his riding-whip across the shoulders of his successful rival and there would have been an end of the matter. Leopold Hirsch would go down to hell and endure the torments of the damned, then return to heaven at a smile from her, and go back to hell again and glory in his misery. But just now she was frightened of him; he looked almost like a living corpse; the skin on his face was drawn so tightly over the bones that it gave him the appearance of a skull with hollow eyes and wide, grinning mouth. Outside an owl hooted dismally. Klara gave a slight shiver of fear and looked furtively round her to see if any of the drunkards were awake. Then she recollected that her father was in the next room, and presently, from afar, came shouts of laughter and the sound of music. She woke as from a nightmare, gave her fine shoulders a little shake, and looked boldly into her jealous lover's face. "By the Lord, Leo!" she said, with a little forced laugh, "you have given me the creeps, looking as you do. How dare you frighten me like that? With your clenched hands, too, as if you wanted to murder me. There, now, don't be such a silly fool. You have got a long journey before you; it's no use making yourself sick with jealousy just before you go." "I am not going on a journey," he said, in a toneless, even voice, which seemed to come from a grave. "Not going?" she said, with a frown of puzzlement. "You were going to Fiume to meet your brother, don't you remember? The ship he is on is due in the day after to-morrow. If you don't start to-night you won't be able to catch the express at Budapesth to-morrow." "I know all that," he said, in the same dull, monotonous tone; "I am not going, that's all." "But . . ." "I have changed my mind. Your father is going away. I must watch over you to see that no one molests you. Thieves might want to break in . . . one never knows . . . anyhow, my brother can look after himself . . . I stay to look after you." For a moment or two she stood quite still, her senses strained to grasp the meaning, the purport of the present situation--this madman on the watch outside--the young Count, key in hand, swaggering up to the back door at ten o'clock, when most folk would be at supper in the barn, her father gone, the village street wrapped in darkness! Leopold, by a violent and sudden effort, had regained mastery over the muscles of his face and hands, these no longer twitched now, and he answered her look of mute inquiry with one of well-feigned quietude. Only his breath he could not control, it passed through his throat with a stertorous sound, and every now and then he had to pass his tongue over his dry, cracked lips. Thus they stood for a moment eye to eye; and what she read in his glance caused a nameless fear to strike at her heart and to paralyse her will. But the next instant she had recovered her presence of mind. With quick, febrile movements she had already taken off her apron and with her hands smoothed her unruly dark hair. Then she made for the door. Less than a second and already he had guessed her purpose: before she could reach the door he had his back against it and his nervy fingers had grasped her wrist. "Where are you going?" "Out," she said curtly. "What for?" "That's none of your business." "What for?" he reiterated hoarsely. "Let go my wrist," she exclaimed, "you are hurting me." "I'll hurt you worse," he cried, in a broken voice, "if you cross this threshold to-night." But he released her wrist, and she, wrathful, indignant, terrified, retreated to the other end of the room. "Go out by the back door," he sneered, "if you want to go out. You have the key, haven't you?" "My father . . ." she began. "Yes!" he said. "Go and tell your father that I, Leopold Hirsch, your affianced husband, am browbeating you--making a scene, what?--because you have made an assignation with my lord the young Count, here--at night--under your father's roof--under the roof of a child of Israel! You! An assignation with a dirty Christian! . . . Bah! Go and tell your father that! And he will thrash you to within an inch of your life! We are Jews, he and I, and hold the honour of our women sacred--more sacred than their life!" "Don't be a fool, Leopold," she cried, feeling that indeed, between her father and this madman, her life had ceased to be safe. She looked round her helplessly. Three or four besotted fools lying helpless across the tables, and all the village dancing and making merry some two hundred m tres away, her father--implacable, as she well knew, where her conduct was concerned--and this madman ready to kill to satisfy his lust of vengeance and of hate--she felt that indeed, unless Heaven performed a miracle, here was the beginning of an awful, an irredeemable tragedy. "Leopold, don't be a fool," she reiterated, trying with all her might not to appear frightened or scared or confused. "I have promised Kapus Elsa to go to her dance for half an hour. I had forgotten all about it. I must go now." "Go and change your dress, then," he retorted with a sneer, "then you can go out by the back way. You have put the key away somewhere, haven't you? You know where it is." "You are mad about doors to-night. I tell you I am going out now, by that front door--at once." "And I tell you," he said, slowly and deliberately, "that if you cross the front door step I will call your father and tell him that you go and meet your lover--a Christian lover--the young Count--who would as soon think of marrying you as he would a nigger or a kitchen slut. Before you will have reached the high road your father and I will be on your heels, and either he or I will strangle you ere you come within sight of my lord's castle." "You are mad!" she cried. "Or else an idiot." "Better look for that back-door key," he retorted. "What has the back-door key to do with it?" she asked sullenly. "Only this," he replied, "that while that monkey-faced dog of a Christian was whispering to you just now, I know that the key was hanging on its usual peg, but I heard something about 'supper' and about 'ten o'clock.' May he break his neck, I say, and save me the job. Then he ordered me out of the room. Oh! I guessed! I am no fool, you know! When I came back I looked into your father's room--the key was gone, and I knew. And what I say is, why can't he come in by the front door like a man, if he has nothing to hide? Why must you let him come in like a thief by a back-door, if you have nothing to be ashamed of? The tap-room is open to anybody. Anybody can walk in and get a drink if they want to. Then why this whispering and this sneaking?" He was working himself up to a greater and ever greater passion of fury. He kept his voice low because he didn't want Ign cz Goldstein to hear--not just yet, at any rate--for Ign cz was a hard man and a stern father, and God only knew what he might not do if he was roused. Leopold did not want Klara hurt--not yet, at any rate--not until he was quite sure that she meant to play him altogether false. She was vain and frivolous, over-fond of dress and of queening it over the peasant girls of the village, but there was no real harm in her. She was immensely flattered by the young Count's attentions and over-ready to accept his presents in exchange for kisses and whisperings behind closed doors, but there was no real harm in her--so at least Leopold Hirsch kept repeating to himself time and again, whenever jealousy gnawed at his heart more roughly than he could endure. Just now that torment was almost unbearable, and the passion of fury into which he had worked himself blinded him momentarily to the dull, aching pain. Klara, as he spoke thus hoarsely, and brought his contorted face closer and closer to hers, had gradually shrunk more and more into the corner of the room, and there she remained now, flattened against the wall, her wide-open, terror-filled eyes fixed staringly upon this raving madman. "You asked just now," he continued, in the same hoarse, guttural whisper, which seemed literally to be racking and tearing his throat as it came, "what the back-door key had to do with my not going to meet my brother at Fiume. Well! It has this much to do with it, that you happen to be my tokened wife, that you happen to be of my race and of my blood, a sober, clean-living Jewess, please God, and not one of those frivolous, empty-headed Christian girls--you are that now, I know; if you were not I would kill you first and myself afterwards: therefore, if to-night I catch a thief--any thief, I don't care who he is--sneaking into this house by a back door when you happen to be here alone and seemingly unprotected, if I catch any kind of thief or malefactor, I say . . ." He paused, and she, through teeth that chattered, contrived to murmur: "Well? What do you say? Why don't you go on?" "Because you understand," he said, with calm as sudden and as terrible as his rage had been awhile ago. "I am not a Christian, you know, nor yet a gentleman. I cannot walk up either to my lord's castle or to one of these Christian Magyar peasants and strike him in the face for trying to rob me of that which is more precious to me than life. I am a Jew . . . a low-born, miserable Jew, whose whole race, origin and upbringing are despicable in the sight of the noble lords as well as of the Hungarian peasantry. Just a wretched creature whom one orders to hold one's horse, to brush one's boots, to stand out of one's way, anyhow; but not to meet as man to man, not to fight openly and frankly for the woman whom one loves. Well! You happen to be a Jewess too, and tokened to a Jew, and if either my lord or one of these d----d Magyar peasants chooses to come sneaking round you like a thief in the night, well . . ." He paused, and from the pocket of his shabby trousers he half drew out a long, sheathed hunting-knife, and then quickly hid it again from her sight. Klara smothered a desperate cry of terror. Leopold now turned his back on her; he went up to the table and seizing a carafe of water, he poured himself out a huge mugful and drank it down at a draught. The edge of the mug rattled against his teeth, his hand was trembling so that half the contents were poured down on his clothes. He did not look again on Klara, but having put the mug down, he passed his hand once or twice across his forehead as if to chase away some of those horrible thoughts which were still lurking in his brain. Then he took his cigarette-case out of his pocket, selected a cigarette, struck a match and lit it, still avoiding Klara's fixed and staring gaze. "I'll go and smoke this outside," he said quietly. "I can see both doors from the corner. When you have found that back-door key you may go to Elsa Kapus' wedding feast, but not before." He took a final look round the room, and his eyes, which had once more become dull and pale, rested with an infinite look of contempt upon the two or three besotted drunkards who, throughout this scene, had done no more than open and blink a sleepy eye. "Shall I turn these louts out for you now?" he asked. "No, no," she replied mechanically, "let them have their sleep. When they wake they'll go away all right." Just then the outer door was opened and Lakatos Andor's broad figure appeared upon the threshold. Leopold Hirsch gave him a nod, and without another look on Klara, he strode out into the night. CHAPTER XXI "Jealous, like a madman." "I came to see if B la was still here," said Andor, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold Hirsch. "One or two chaps whom I met awhile ago told me that he had not been seen in the barn this hour past, and that there was a lot of talk about it. I thought that if he were here, I could persuade you . . ." He paused, and looked more keenly at the girl. "What is it, Klara?" he asked; "you seem ill or upset . . ." She closed her eyes once or twice like someone just waking out of a dream, then she passed her hands over her forehead and over her hair. She felt completely dazed and stupid, as if she had received a stunning blow on the head, and while Andor talked she looked at him with staring eyes, not understanding a word that he said. "Yes--yes, Andor?" she said vaguely. "What can I do for you?" "Nothing much, my good Klara," he replied; "it was only about B la . . ." "Yes--about B la," she stammered; "won't . . . won't you sit down?" "Thank you, I will for a moment." She moved forward in order to get him a chair, but she found that she could not stand. The moment that she relinquished the prop of the wall, her knees gave way under her and she lurched forward against the table. She would have fallen had not Andor caught her and guided her to a chair, whereon she sank half fainting, with eyes closed and cheeks and lips the colour of ashes. Just for the moment the wild thought flew through his mind that she had been induced to drink by one of the men, but a closer look on her wan, pale face and into those dilated eyes of hers convinced him that the girl was in real and acute mental distress. He went up to the table and poured out a mug of wine, which he held to her lips. She drank eagerly, looking up at him the while with a strangely pathetic, eagerly appealing gaze. When he had taken the mug from her and replaced it on the table, he drew a chair close to her and said as kindly as he could, for he did not feel very well-disposed toward the girl who was the cause of much unhappiness to Elsa: "Now, Klara, you are going to tell me what is the matter with you." But already she had recovered herself a little, and Lakatos Andor's somewhat dictatorial tone grated upon her sensitive ear. "There's nothing the matter with me," she retorted, with a return of her habitual flippancy. "What should be the matter?" "I don't know," he said dryly; "and, of course, if you tell me that it's a private affair of your own and none of my business, why I'll be quite satisfied, and not ask any more questions. But if it's anything to do with B la . . ." "No, of course not," she broke in impatiently. "What should B la have to do with my affairs? B la has been gone from here this hour past." "And he is not coming back?" asked Andor searchingly. "I trust not," she replied fervently, and the young man noticed that the staring, terror-filled look once more crept into her eyes. "Very well, then," he said, rising, "that is all I wanted to know. I am sorry to have disturbed you. Good-night,

laid

How many times the word 'laid' appears in the text?

Fiume in half an hour." "To Fiume?" "Yes. You know he has a brother coming home from America." "I know that." "His ship is due in at Fiume the day after to-morrow. Leopold must start by the same train as your father to-night, in order to catch the express for Fiume at Budapesth to-morrow." "Did he tell you all that?" "I have known all along that he meant to meet his brother at Fiume, and yesterday he said something about it again. So you see, my pretty one, that we can have a comfortable little supper this evening without fear of interruption. We'll have it at ten o'clock, when the supper-party is going on at the barn, eh? We shan't be interrupted then. So give me that duplicate key, will you, and I can slip in quietly through the back door without raising a bit of gossip or scandal. Hurry up now! I shall have to be going." "I can't now," she protested. "Leopold hasn't taken his eyes off me all this time." "Oh! if that is all that is troubling you, my dear," said the young man coolly, "I can easily settle our friend Leopold. Hirsch!" he called loudly. "My lord?" queried the other, with the quick obsequiousness habitual to the down-trodden race. "My horse is kicking up such a row outside. I wish you'd just go and see if the boy is looking after him properly." Of course it was impossible to do anything but obey. My lord had commanded; in the ordinary way the poor Jew shopkeeper would have felt honoured to have been selected for individual recognition. Nor did he do more now than throw one of those swift looks of his--so full of hatred and of menace--upon Klara and the young man; but the latter, having given his orders, no longer condescended to take notice of the Jew and had once more engaged the girl in animated conversation. Had Klara thought of looking up when Leopold finally obeyed my lord's commands and went to look after the horse, she could not have failed to realize the danger which lurked in the young man's pale eyes then. His face, always pale and olive-tinted, was now the colour of ashes, grey and livid and blotched with purple, his lips looked white and quivering, and his eyebrows--of a reddish tinge--met above his nose in a deep, dark scowl. But my lord had thrown out a casual hint about a gold watch, and Klara had no further thought for her jealous admirer. "Now go and fetch the key," said Count Feri, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold. The hint of the gold watch had stirred Klara's pulses. A _t te- -t te_ with my lord was, moreover, greatly to her liking. He could be very amusing when he chose, and was always generous; and Klara's life was often dull and colourless. A pleasant evening spent in his company would compensate her in a measure for her disappointment at not being asked to Elsa's ball, and there was the gold watch to look forward to, above all. Taking an opportunity when her father was absorbed in his game of tarok, she went into the next room and presently returned with a key in her hand, which she surreptitiously gave to my lord. "Splendid!" exclaimed the young man gaily. "Klara, you are a gem, and after supper you shall just ask me for anything you have a fancy for, and I'll give it to you. Now I'd better go. Good-bye, little one. Ten o'clock sharp, eh?" "Ten o'clock," she repeated, under her breath. He strode to the door, outside which he found Leopold waiting for him. "The horse was quite quiet, my lord," said the Jew sullenly; "the boy had never left it for a moment." "Oh! that's all right, Hirsch," rejoined my lord indifferently. "I only wanted to know." Of course he never thought of saying a word of thanks or of excuse to the other man. What would you? A Jew! Bah! not even worth a nod of the head. Count Feri R kosy had quickly mounted his pretty, half-bred Arab mare--a click of the tongue and she was off with him, kicking up a cloud of dust in her wake. But Leopold Hirsch had remained for a moment standing on the doorstep of Ign cz Goldstein's house. He watched horse and rider through that cloud of dust, and along the straight and broad highway, until both had become a mere speck upon the low-lying horizon. "May you break your accursed neck!" he muttered fervently. Then he went back to the tap-room. CHAPTER XX "You happen to be of my race and of my blood." He strode at once to Klara, who greeted him with an ironical little smile and a coquettish look out of her dark eyes. "You never told me that you were going away to-night, my dear Leopold," she said suavely. "Who told you that I was?" he retorted savagely. "It seems to be pretty well known about the place. You seemed to have been talking about it pretty freely that you were going to Fiume to meet your brother when the ship he is on comes in." "I meant to tell you just now, only his lordship's arrival interrupted me," he said more quietly. "And since then you have been busy making a fool of yourself before my lord, eh?" she asked. "Bah!" "And compromising me into the bargain, what? But let me tell you this, my good Leopold, before we go any further, that I am not married to you yet, and that I don't like your airs of proprietorship, _sabe_?" He could not say anything more just then, for customers were departing, and she had to attend to them; he did not try to approach her while she was thus engaged, but presently, when her back was turned, he contrived to work his way across to the door which gave on the inner room, and to push it slightly open with his hand, until he could peep through the aperture and take a quick survey of the room beyond. Klara had not seen this manoeuvre of his, although she had cast more than one rapid and furtive glance upon him while she attended to her customers. She was thankful that he was going away for a few days; in his present mood he was positively dangerous. She had lighted the oil lamp which hung from the centre of the low, raftered ceiling, the hour was getting late, customers were all leaving now one by one. Er s B la was one of the last to go. He had drunk rather more silvorium than was good for him. He knew quite well that by absenting himself from the pre-nuptial festivals he had behaved in a disgraceful and unjustifiable manner which would surely be resented throughout the village, and though he was quite sure that he did not care one brass fill r what all those ignorant peasants thought of him, yet he felt it incumbent upon him to brace up his courage now, before meeting the hostile fusillade of eyes which would be sure to greet him on his return to the barn. He meant to put in a short appearance there, and then to finish his evening here in Klara's company. He felt that his dignity demanded that he should absent himself at any rate from the supper, seeing that Elsa had so grossly defied him. "At ten o'clock I'll be back, Klara," he whispered, in the girl's ear, as he was about to take his departure along with some of his friends, who also intended to go on to the dance in the barn. "Indeed you won't," she retorted decisively, "I have no use for you, my good B la. You are almost a married man now, remember!" she added with a laugh. "I'll bring those bottles of champagne," he urged; "don't be hard on me, Klara. I'll give you a good time to-night, and a nice present into the bargain." "And ruin my reputation for ever, eh? By walking into the tap-room when it's full of people and carrying two bottles of champagne under your arm--or staying on ostentatiously after everyone has gone and for everyone to gossip. No, thank you; I've already told you that I am not going to lend myself to your little games of vengeance. It isn't me you want, it's petty revenge upon Elsa. To that I say no, thank you, my good man." "Klara!" he pleaded. "No!" she said, and unceremoniously turned her back on him. He went off, sullen and morose, and not a little chaffed for his moroseness by his friends. The tap-room was almost deserted for the moment. In one or two corners only a few stragglers lingered; they were sprawling across the tables with arms outstretched. Ign cz Goldstein's silvorium had proved too potent and too plentiful. They lay there in a drunken sleep--logs that were of no account. Presently they would have to be thrown out, but there was no hurry for that--they were not in the way. Ign cz Goldstein had gone into the next room. Klara was busy tidying up the place; Leopold approached her with well-feigned contrition and humility. "I am sorry, Klara," he said. "I seemed to have had the knack to-night of constantly annoying you. So I'd best begone now, perhaps." "I bear no malice, Leo," she said quietly. "I thought I'd come back at about nine o'clock," he continued. "It is nearly eight now." She, thinking that he had his own journey in mind, remarked casually: "You'd best be here well before nine. The train leaves at nine-twenty, and father walks very slowly." "I won't be late," he said. "Best give me the key of the back door. I'll let myself in that way." "No occasion to do that," she retorted. "The front door will be open. You can come in that way like everybody else." "It's just a fancy," he said quietly; "there might be a lot of people about just then. I don't want to come through here. I thought I'd just slip in the back way as I often do. So give me the key, Klara, will you?" "How can I give you the key of the back door?" she said, equally quietly; "you know father always carries it in his coat pocket." "But there is a second key," he remarked, "which hangs on a nail by your father's bedside in the next room. Give me that one, Klara." "I shan't," she retorted. "I never heard such nonsense! As if I could allow you to use the private door of this house just as it suits your fancy. If you want to come in to-night and say good-bye, you must come in by the front door." "It's just a whim of mine, Klara," urged Leopold, now still speaking quietly--almost under his breath--but there was an ominous tremor in his voice and sudden sharp gleams in his eyes which the girl had already noted and which caused the blood to rush back to her heart, leaving her cheeks pale and her lips trembling. "Nonsense!" she contrived to say, with an indifferent shrug of the shoulders. "Just a whim," he reiterated. "So I'll take the key, by your leave." He turned to the door of the inner room and pushed it open, just as he had done awhile ago, and now--as then--he cast a rapid glance round the room. Klara, through half-closed lids, watched his every movement. "Why!" he exclaimed, turning back to her, and with a look of well-feigned surprise, "the key is not in its place." "I know it isn't," she retorted curtly. "Then where is it?" "I have put it away." "When? It was hanging on its usual nail when I first came here this afternoon. I remember the door being open, and my glancing into the room casually. I am sure it was there then." "It may have been: but I put it away after that." "Why should you have done that?" "I don't know, and, anyhow, it's no business of yours, is it?" "Give me that back-door key, Klara," insisted the young man, in a tone of savage command. "No!" she replied, slowly and decisively. There was silence in the little, low raftered room after that, a silence only broken by the buzzing of flies against the white globe of the lamp, and by the snores of the sleepers who sprawled across the tables. Leopold Hirsch had drawn in his breath with a low, hissing sound; his face, by the yellow light of the lamp, looked ghastly in colour, and his hands were twitching convulsively as the trembling fingers clenched and opened with a monotonous, jerky movement of attempted self-control. Klara had not failed to notice these symptoms of an agony of mind which the young man was so vainly trying to hide from her. For the moment she almost felt sorry for him--sorry and slightly remorseful. After all, Leo's frame of mind, the agony which he endured, came from the strength of his love for her. Neither Er s B la, nor the young Count, nor the many admirers who had hung round her in the past until such time as their fancy found more permanent anchorage elsewhere, would have suffered tortures of soul and of heart because she had indulged in a mild flirtation with a rival. Er s B la would have stormed and cursed, the young Count would have laid his riding-whip across the shoulders of his successful rival and there would have been an end of the matter. Leopold Hirsch would go down to hell and endure the torments of the damned, then return to heaven at a smile from her, and go back to hell again and glory in his misery. But just now she was frightened of him; he looked almost like a living corpse; the skin on his face was drawn so tightly over the bones that it gave him the appearance of a skull with hollow eyes and wide, grinning mouth. Outside an owl hooted dismally. Klara gave a slight shiver of fear and looked furtively round her to see if any of the drunkards were awake. Then she recollected that her father was in the next room, and presently, from afar, came shouts of laughter and the sound of music. She woke as from a nightmare, gave her fine shoulders a little shake, and looked boldly into her jealous lover's face. "By the Lord, Leo!" she said, with a little forced laugh, "you have given me the creeps, looking as you do. How dare you frighten me like that? With your clenched hands, too, as if you wanted to murder me. There, now, don't be such a silly fool. You have got a long journey before you; it's no use making yourself sick with jealousy just before you go." "I am not going on a journey," he said, in a toneless, even voice, which seemed to come from a grave. "Not going?" she said, with a frown of puzzlement. "You were going to Fiume to meet your brother, don't you remember? The ship he is on is due in the day after to-morrow. If you don't start to-night you won't be able to catch the express at Budapesth to-morrow." "I know all that," he said, in the same dull, monotonous tone; "I am not going, that's all." "But . . ." "I have changed my mind. Your father is going away. I must watch over you to see that no one molests you. Thieves might want to break in . . . one never knows . . . anyhow, my brother can look after himself . . . I stay to look after you." For a moment or two she stood quite still, her senses strained to grasp the meaning, the purport of the present situation--this madman on the watch outside--the young Count, key in hand, swaggering up to the back door at ten o'clock, when most folk would be at supper in the barn, her father gone, the village street wrapped in darkness! Leopold, by a violent and sudden effort, had regained mastery over the muscles of his face and hands, these no longer twitched now, and he answered her look of mute inquiry with one of well-feigned quietude. Only his breath he could not control, it passed through his throat with a stertorous sound, and every now and then he had to pass his tongue over his dry, cracked lips. Thus they stood for a moment eye to eye; and what she read in his glance caused a nameless fear to strike at her heart and to paralyse her will. But the next instant she had recovered her presence of mind. With quick, febrile movements she had already taken off her apron and with her hands smoothed her unruly dark hair. Then she made for the door. Less than a second and already he had guessed her purpose: before she could reach the door he had his back against it and his nervy fingers had grasped her wrist. "Where are you going?" "Out," she said curtly. "What for?" "That's none of your business." "What for?" he reiterated hoarsely. "Let go my wrist," she exclaimed, "you are hurting me." "I'll hurt you worse," he cried, in a broken voice, "if you cross this threshold to-night." But he released her wrist, and she, wrathful, indignant, terrified, retreated to the other end of the room. "Go out by the back door," he sneered, "if you want to go out. You have the key, haven't you?" "My father . . ." she began. "Yes!" he said. "Go and tell your father that I, Leopold Hirsch, your affianced husband, am browbeating you--making a scene, what?--because you have made an assignation with my lord the young Count, here--at night--under your father's roof--under the roof of a child of Israel! You! An assignation with a dirty Christian! . . . Bah! Go and tell your father that! And he will thrash you to within an inch of your life! We are Jews, he and I, and hold the honour of our women sacred--more sacred than their life!" "Don't be a fool, Leopold," she cried, feeling that indeed, between her father and this madman, her life had ceased to be safe. She looked round her helplessly. Three or four besotted fools lying helpless across the tables, and all the village dancing and making merry some two hundred m tres away, her father--implacable, as she well knew, where her conduct was concerned--and this madman ready to kill to satisfy his lust of vengeance and of hate--she felt that indeed, unless Heaven performed a miracle, here was the beginning of an awful, an irredeemable tragedy. "Leopold, don't be a fool," she reiterated, trying with all her might not to appear frightened or scared or confused. "I have promised Kapus Elsa to go to her dance for half an hour. I had forgotten all about it. I must go now." "Go and change your dress, then," he retorted with a sneer, "then you can go out by the back way. You have put the key away somewhere, haven't you? You know where it is." "You are mad about doors to-night. I tell you I am going out now, by that front door--at once." "And I tell you," he said, slowly and deliberately, "that if you cross the front door step I will call your father and tell him that you go and meet your lover--a Christian lover--the young Count--who would as soon think of marrying you as he would a nigger or a kitchen slut. Before you will have reached the high road your father and I will be on your heels, and either he or I will strangle you ere you come within sight of my lord's castle." "You are mad!" she cried. "Or else an idiot." "Better look for that back-door key," he retorted. "What has the back-door key to do with it?" she asked sullenly. "Only this," he replied, "that while that monkey-faced dog of a Christian was whispering to you just now, I know that the key was hanging on its usual peg, but I heard something about 'supper' and about 'ten o'clock.' May he break his neck, I say, and save me the job. Then he ordered me out of the room. Oh! I guessed! I am no fool, you know! When I came back I looked into your father's room--the key was gone, and I knew. And what I say is, why can't he come in by the front door like a man, if he has nothing to hide? Why must you let him come in like a thief by a back-door, if you have nothing to be ashamed of? The tap-room is open to anybody. Anybody can walk in and get a drink if they want to. Then why this whispering and this sneaking?" He was working himself up to a greater and ever greater passion of fury. He kept his voice low because he didn't want Ign cz Goldstein to hear--not just yet, at any rate--for Ign cz was a hard man and a stern father, and God only knew what he might not do if he was roused. Leopold did not want Klara hurt--not yet, at any rate--not until he was quite sure that she meant to play him altogether false. She was vain and frivolous, over-fond of dress and of queening it over the peasant girls of the village, but there was no real harm in her. She was immensely flattered by the young Count's attentions and over-ready to accept his presents in exchange for kisses and whisperings behind closed doors, but there was no real harm in her--so at least Leopold Hirsch kept repeating to himself time and again, whenever jealousy gnawed at his heart more roughly than he could endure. Just now that torment was almost unbearable, and the passion of fury into which he had worked himself blinded him momentarily to the dull, aching pain. Klara, as he spoke thus hoarsely, and brought his contorted face closer and closer to hers, had gradually shrunk more and more into the corner of the room, and there she remained now, flattened against the wall, her wide-open, terror-filled eyes fixed staringly upon this raving madman. "You asked just now," he continued, in the same hoarse, guttural whisper, which seemed literally to be racking and tearing his throat as it came, "what the back-door key had to do with my not going to meet my brother at Fiume. Well! It has this much to do with it, that you happen to be my tokened wife, that you happen to be of my race and of my blood, a sober, clean-living Jewess, please God, and not one of those frivolous, empty-headed Christian girls--you are that now, I know; if you were not I would kill you first and myself afterwards: therefore, if to-night I catch a thief--any thief, I don't care who he is--sneaking into this house by a back door when you happen to be here alone and seemingly unprotected, if I catch any kind of thief or malefactor, I say . . ." He paused, and she, through teeth that chattered, contrived to murmur: "Well? What do you say? Why don't you go on?" "Because you understand," he said, with calm as sudden and as terrible as his rage had been awhile ago. "I am not a Christian, you know, nor yet a gentleman. I cannot walk up either to my lord's castle or to one of these Christian Magyar peasants and strike him in the face for trying to rob me of that which is more precious to me than life. I am a Jew . . . a low-born, miserable Jew, whose whole race, origin and upbringing are despicable in the sight of the noble lords as well as of the Hungarian peasantry. Just a wretched creature whom one orders to hold one's horse, to brush one's boots, to stand out of one's way, anyhow; but not to meet as man to man, not to fight openly and frankly for the woman whom one loves. Well! You happen to be a Jewess too, and tokened to a Jew, and if either my lord or one of these d----d Magyar peasants chooses to come sneaking round you like a thief in the night, well . . ." He paused, and from the pocket of his shabby trousers he half drew out a long, sheathed hunting-knife, and then quickly hid it again from her sight. Klara smothered a desperate cry of terror. Leopold now turned his back on her; he went up to the table and seizing a carafe of water, he poured himself out a huge mugful and drank it down at a draught. The edge of the mug rattled against his teeth, his hand was trembling so that half the contents were poured down on his clothes. He did not look again on Klara, but having put the mug down, he passed his hand once or twice across his forehead as if to chase away some of those horrible thoughts which were still lurking in his brain. Then he took his cigarette-case out of his pocket, selected a cigarette, struck a match and lit it, still avoiding Klara's fixed and staring gaze. "I'll go and smoke this outside," he said quietly. "I can see both doors from the corner. When you have found that back-door key you may go to Elsa Kapus' wedding feast, but not before." He took a final look round the room, and his eyes, which had once more become dull and pale, rested with an infinite look of contempt upon the two or three besotted drunkards who, throughout this scene, had done no more than open and blink a sleepy eye. "Shall I turn these louts out for you now?" he asked. "No, no," she replied mechanically, "let them have their sleep. When they wake they'll go away all right." Just then the outer door was opened and Lakatos Andor's broad figure appeared upon the threshold. Leopold Hirsch gave him a nod, and without another look on Klara, he strode out into the night. CHAPTER XXI "Jealous, like a madman." "I came to see if B la was still here," said Andor, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold Hirsch. "One or two chaps whom I met awhile ago told me that he had not been seen in the barn this hour past, and that there was a lot of talk about it. I thought that if he were here, I could persuade you . . ." He paused, and looked more keenly at the girl. "What is it, Klara?" he asked; "you seem ill or upset . . ." She closed her eyes once or twice like someone just waking out of a dream, then she passed her hands over her forehead and over her hair. She felt completely dazed and stupid, as if she had received a stunning blow on the head, and while Andor talked she looked at him with staring eyes, not understanding a word that he said. "Yes--yes, Andor?" she said vaguely. "What can I do for you?" "Nothing much, my good Klara," he replied; "it was only about B la . . ." "Yes--about B la," she stammered; "won't . . . won't you sit down?" "Thank you, I will for a moment." She moved forward in order to get him a chair, but she found that she could not stand. The moment that she relinquished the prop of the wall, her knees gave way under her and she lurched forward against the table. She would have fallen had not Andor caught her and guided her to a chair, whereon she sank half fainting, with eyes closed and cheeks and lips the colour of ashes. Just for the moment the wild thought flew through his mind that she had been induced to drink by one of the men, but a closer look on her wan, pale face and into those dilated eyes of hers convinced him that the girl was in real and acute mental distress. He went up to the table and poured out a mug of wine, which he held to her lips. She drank eagerly, looking up at him the while with a strangely pathetic, eagerly appealing gaze. When he had taken the mug from her and replaced it on the table, he drew a chair close to her and said as kindly as he could, for he did not feel very well-disposed toward the girl who was the cause of much unhappiness to Elsa: "Now, Klara, you are going to tell me what is the matter with you." But already she had recovered herself a little, and Lakatos Andor's somewhat dictatorial tone grated upon her sensitive ear. "There's nothing the matter with me," she retorted, with a return of her habitual flippancy. "What should be the matter?" "I don't know," he said dryly; "and, of course, if you tell me that it's a private affair of your own and none of my business, why I'll be quite satisfied, and not ask any more questions. But if it's anything to do with B la . . ." "No, of course not," she broke in impatiently. "What should B la have to do with my affairs? B la has been gone from here this hour past." "And he is not coming back?" asked Andor searchingly. "I trust not," she replied fervently, and the young man noticed that the staring, terror-filled look once more crept into her eyes. "Very well, then," he said, rising, "that is all I wanted to know. I am sorry to have disturbed you. Good-night,

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Fiume in half an hour." "To Fiume?" "Yes. You know he has a brother coming home from America." "I know that." "His ship is due in at Fiume the day after to-morrow. Leopold must start by the same train as your father to-night, in order to catch the express for Fiume at Budapesth to-morrow." "Did he tell you all that?" "I have known all along that he meant to meet his brother at Fiume, and yesterday he said something about it again. So you see, my pretty one, that we can have a comfortable little supper this evening without fear of interruption. We'll have it at ten o'clock, when the supper-party is going on at the barn, eh? We shan't be interrupted then. So give me that duplicate key, will you, and I can slip in quietly through the back door without raising a bit of gossip or scandal. Hurry up now! I shall have to be going." "I can't now," she protested. "Leopold hasn't taken his eyes off me all this time." "Oh! if that is all that is troubling you, my dear," said the young man coolly, "I can easily settle our friend Leopold. Hirsch!" he called loudly. "My lord?" queried the other, with the quick obsequiousness habitual to the down-trodden race. "My horse is kicking up such a row outside. I wish you'd just go and see if the boy is looking after him properly." Of course it was impossible to do anything but obey. My lord had commanded; in the ordinary way the poor Jew shopkeeper would have felt honoured to have been selected for individual recognition. Nor did he do more now than throw one of those swift looks of his--so full of hatred and of menace--upon Klara and the young man; but the latter, having given his orders, no longer condescended to take notice of the Jew and had once more engaged the girl in animated conversation. Had Klara thought of looking up when Leopold finally obeyed my lord's commands and went to look after the horse, she could not have failed to realize the danger which lurked in the young man's pale eyes then. His face, always pale and olive-tinted, was now the colour of ashes, grey and livid and blotched with purple, his lips looked white and quivering, and his eyebrows--of a reddish tinge--met above his nose in a deep, dark scowl. But my lord had thrown out a casual hint about a gold watch, and Klara had no further thought for her jealous admirer. "Now go and fetch the key," said Count Feri, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold. The hint of the gold watch had stirred Klara's pulses. A _t te- -t te_ with my lord was, moreover, greatly to her liking. He could be very amusing when he chose, and was always generous; and Klara's life was often dull and colourless. A pleasant evening spent in his company would compensate her in a measure for her disappointment at not being asked to Elsa's ball, and there was the gold watch to look forward to, above all. Taking an opportunity when her father was absorbed in his game of tarok, she went into the next room and presently returned with a key in her hand, which she surreptitiously gave to my lord. "Splendid!" exclaimed the young man gaily. "Klara, you are a gem, and after supper you shall just ask me for anything you have a fancy for, and I'll give it to you. Now I'd better go. Good-bye, little one. Ten o'clock sharp, eh?" "Ten o'clock," she repeated, under her breath. He strode to the door, outside which he found Leopold waiting for him. "The horse was quite quiet, my lord," said the Jew sullenly; "the boy had never left it for a moment." "Oh! that's all right, Hirsch," rejoined my lord indifferently. "I only wanted to know." Of course he never thought of saying a word of thanks or of excuse to the other man. What would you? A Jew! Bah! not even worth a nod of the head. Count Feri R kosy had quickly mounted his pretty, half-bred Arab mare--a click of the tongue and she was off with him, kicking up a cloud of dust in her wake. But Leopold Hirsch had remained for a moment standing on the doorstep of Ign cz Goldstein's house. He watched horse and rider through that cloud of dust, and along the straight and broad highway, until both had become a mere speck upon the low-lying horizon. "May you break your accursed neck!" he muttered fervently. Then he went back to the tap-room. CHAPTER XX "You happen to be of my race and of my blood." He strode at once to Klara, who greeted him with an ironical little smile and a coquettish look out of her dark eyes. "You never told me that you were going away to-night, my dear Leopold," she said suavely. "Who told you that I was?" he retorted savagely. "It seems to be pretty well known about the place. You seemed to have been talking about it pretty freely that you were going to Fiume to meet your brother when the ship he is on comes in." "I meant to tell you just now, only his lordship's arrival interrupted me," he said more quietly. "And since then you have been busy making a fool of yourself before my lord, eh?" she asked. "Bah!" "And compromising me into the bargain, what? But let me tell you this, my good Leopold, before we go any further, that I am not married to you yet, and that I don't like your airs of proprietorship, _sabe_?" He could not say anything more just then, for customers were departing, and she had to attend to them; he did not try to approach her while she was thus engaged, but presently, when her back was turned, he contrived to work his way across to the door which gave on the inner room, and to push it slightly open with his hand, until he could peep through the aperture and take a quick survey of the room beyond. Klara had not seen this manoeuvre of his, although she had cast more than one rapid and furtive glance upon him while she attended to her customers. She was thankful that he was going away for a few days; in his present mood he was positively dangerous. She had lighted the oil lamp which hung from the centre of the low, raftered ceiling, the hour was getting late, customers were all leaving now one by one. Er s B la was one of the last to go. He had drunk rather more silvorium than was good for him. He knew quite well that by absenting himself from the pre-nuptial festivals he had behaved in a disgraceful and unjustifiable manner which would surely be resented throughout the village, and though he was quite sure that he did not care one brass fill r what all those ignorant peasants thought of him, yet he felt it incumbent upon him to brace up his courage now, before meeting the hostile fusillade of eyes which would be sure to greet him on his return to the barn. He meant to put in a short appearance there, and then to finish his evening here in Klara's company. He felt that his dignity demanded that he should absent himself at any rate from the supper, seeing that Elsa had so grossly defied him. "At ten o'clock I'll be back, Klara," he whispered, in the girl's ear, as he was about to take his departure along with some of his friends, who also intended to go on to the dance in the barn. "Indeed you won't," she retorted decisively, "I have no use for you, my good B la. You are almost a married man now, remember!" she added with a laugh. "I'll bring those bottles of champagne," he urged; "don't be hard on me, Klara. I'll give you a good time to-night, and a nice present into the bargain." "And ruin my reputation for ever, eh? By walking into the tap-room when it's full of people and carrying two bottles of champagne under your arm--or staying on ostentatiously after everyone has gone and for everyone to gossip. No, thank you; I've already told you that I am not going to lend myself to your little games of vengeance. It isn't me you want, it's petty revenge upon Elsa. To that I say no, thank you, my good man." "Klara!" he pleaded. "No!" she said, and unceremoniously turned her back on him. He went off, sullen and morose, and not a little chaffed for his moroseness by his friends. The tap-room was almost deserted for the moment. In one or two corners only a few stragglers lingered; they were sprawling across the tables with arms outstretched. Ign cz Goldstein's silvorium had proved too potent and too plentiful. They lay there in a drunken sleep--logs that were of no account. Presently they would have to be thrown out, but there was no hurry for that--they were not in the way. Ign cz Goldstein had gone into the next room. Klara was busy tidying up the place; Leopold approached her with well-feigned contrition and humility. "I am sorry, Klara," he said. "I seemed to have had the knack to-night of constantly annoying you. So I'd best begone now, perhaps." "I bear no malice, Leo," she said quietly. "I thought I'd come back at about nine o'clock," he continued. "It is nearly eight now." She, thinking that he had his own journey in mind, remarked casually: "You'd best be here well before nine. The train leaves at nine-twenty, and father walks very slowly." "I won't be late," he said. "Best give me the key of the back door. I'll let myself in that way." "No occasion to do that," she retorted. "The front door will be open. You can come in that way like everybody else." "It's just a fancy," he said quietly; "there might be a lot of people about just then. I don't want to come through here. I thought I'd just slip in the back way as I often do. So give me the key, Klara, will you?" "How can I give you the key of the back door?" she said, equally quietly; "you know father always carries it in his coat pocket." "But there is a second key," he remarked, "which hangs on a nail by your father's bedside in the next room. Give me that one, Klara." "I shan't," she retorted. "I never heard such nonsense! As if I could allow you to use the private door of this house just as it suits your fancy. If you want to come in to-night and say good-bye, you must come in by the front door." "It's just a whim of mine, Klara," urged Leopold, now still speaking quietly--almost under his breath--but there was an ominous tremor in his voice and sudden sharp gleams in his eyes which the girl had already noted and which caused the blood to rush back to her heart, leaving her cheeks pale and her lips trembling. "Nonsense!" she contrived to say, with an indifferent shrug of the shoulders. "Just a whim," he reiterated. "So I'll take the key, by your leave." He turned to the door of the inner room and pushed it open, just as he had done awhile ago, and now--as then--he cast a rapid glance round the room. Klara, through half-closed lids, watched his every movement. "Why!" he exclaimed, turning back to her, and with a look of well-feigned surprise, "the key is not in its place." "I know it isn't," she retorted curtly. "Then where is it?" "I have put it away." "When? It was hanging on its usual nail when I first came here this afternoon. I remember the door being open, and my glancing into the room casually. I am sure it was there then." "It may have been: but I put it away after that." "Why should you have done that?" "I don't know, and, anyhow, it's no business of yours, is it?" "Give me that back-door key, Klara," insisted the young man, in a tone of savage command. "No!" she replied, slowly and decisively. There was silence in the little, low raftered room after that, a silence only broken by the buzzing of flies against the white globe of the lamp, and by the snores of the sleepers who sprawled across the tables. Leopold Hirsch had drawn in his breath with a low, hissing sound; his face, by the yellow light of the lamp, looked ghastly in colour, and his hands were twitching convulsively as the trembling fingers clenched and opened with a monotonous, jerky movement of attempted self-control. Klara had not failed to notice these symptoms of an agony of mind which the young man was so vainly trying to hide from her. For the moment she almost felt sorry for him--sorry and slightly remorseful. After all, Leo's frame of mind, the agony which he endured, came from the strength of his love for her. Neither Er s B la, nor the young Count, nor the many admirers who had hung round her in the past until such time as their fancy found more permanent anchorage elsewhere, would have suffered tortures of soul and of heart because she had indulged in a mild flirtation with a rival. Er s B la would have stormed and cursed, the young Count would have laid his riding-whip across the shoulders of his successful rival and there would have been an end of the matter. Leopold Hirsch would go down to hell and endure the torments of the damned, then return to heaven at a smile from her, and go back to hell again and glory in his misery. But just now she was frightened of him; he looked almost like a living corpse; the skin on his face was drawn so tightly over the bones that it gave him the appearance of a skull with hollow eyes and wide, grinning mouth. Outside an owl hooted dismally. Klara gave a slight shiver of fear and looked furtively round her to see if any of the drunkards were awake. Then she recollected that her father was in the next room, and presently, from afar, came shouts of laughter and the sound of music. She woke as from a nightmare, gave her fine shoulders a little shake, and looked boldly into her jealous lover's face. "By the Lord, Leo!" she said, with a little forced laugh, "you have given me the creeps, looking as you do. How dare you frighten me like that? With your clenched hands, too, as if you wanted to murder me. There, now, don't be such a silly fool. You have got a long journey before you; it's no use making yourself sick with jealousy just before you go." "I am not going on a journey," he said, in a toneless, even voice, which seemed to come from a grave. "Not going?" she said, with a frown of puzzlement. "You were going to Fiume to meet your brother, don't you remember? The ship he is on is due in the day after to-morrow. If you don't start to-night you won't be able to catch the express at Budapesth to-morrow." "I know all that," he said, in the same dull, monotonous tone; "I am not going, that's all." "But . . ." "I have changed my mind. Your father is going away. I must watch over you to see that no one molests you. Thieves might want to break in . . . one never knows . . . anyhow, my brother can look after himself . . . I stay to look after you." For a moment or two she stood quite still, her senses strained to grasp the meaning, the purport of the present situation--this madman on the watch outside--the young Count, key in hand, swaggering up to the back door at ten o'clock, when most folk would be at supper in the barn, her father gone, the village street wrapped in darkness! Leopold, by a violent and sudden effort, had regained mastery over the muscles of his face and hands, these no longer twitched now, and he answered her look of mute inquiry with one of well-feigned quietude. Only his breath he could not control, it passed through his throat with a stertorous sound, and every now and then he had to pass his tongue over his dry, cracked lips. Thus they stood for a moment eye to eye; and what she read in his glance caused a nameless fear to strike at her heart and to paralyse her will. But the next instant she had recovered her presence of mind. With quick, febrile movements she had already taken off her apron and with her hands smoothed her unruly dark hair. Then she made for the door. Less than a second and already he had guessed her purpose: before she could reach the door he had his back against it and his nervy fingers had grasped her wrist. "Where are you going?" "Out," she said curtly. "What for?" "That's none of your business." "What for?" he reiterated hoarsely. "Let go my wrist," she exclaimed, "you are hurting me." "I'll hurt you worse," he cried, in a broken voice, "if you cross this threshold to-night." But he released her wrist, and she, wrathful, indignant, terrified, retreated to the other end of the room. "Go out by the back door," he sneered, "if you want to go out. You have the key, haven't you?" "My father . . ." she began. "Yes!" he said. "Go and tell your father that I, Leopold Hirsch, your affianced husband, am browbeating you--making a scene, what?--because you have made an assignation with my lord the young Count, here--at night--under your father's roof--under the roof of a child of Israel! You! An assignation with a dirty Christian! . . . Bah! Go and tell your father that! And he will thrash you to within an inch of your life! We are Jews, he and I, and hold the honour of our women sacred--more sacred than their life!" "Don't be a fool, Leopold," she cried, feeling that indeed, between her father and this madman, her life had ceased to be safe. She looked round her helplessly. Three or four besotted fools lying helpless across the tables, and all the village dancing and making merry some two hundred m tres away, her father--implacable, as she well knew, where her conduct was concerned--and this madman ready to kill to satisfy his lust of vengeance and of hate--she felt that indeed, unless Heaven performed a miracle, here was the beginning of an awful, an irredeemable tragedy. "Leopold, don't be a fool," she reiterated, trying with all her might not to appear frightened or scared or confused. "I have promised Kapus Elsa to go to her dance for half an hour. I had forgotten all about it. I must go now." "Go and change your dress, then," he retorted with a sneer, "then you can go out by the back way. You have put the key away somewhere, haven't you? You know where it is." "You are mad about doors to-night. I tell you I am going out now, by that front door--at once." "And I tell you," he said, slowly and deliberately, "that if you cross the front door step I will call your father and tell him that you go and meet your lover--a Christian lover--the young Count--who would as soon think of marrying you as he would a nigger or a kitchen slut. Before you will have reached the high road your father and I will be on your heels, and either he or I will strangle you ere you come within sight of my lord's castle." "You are mad!" she cried. "Or else an idiot." "Better look for that back-door key," he retorted. "What has the back-door key to do with it?" she asked sullenly. "Only this," he replied, "that while that monkey-faced dog of a Christian was whispering to you just now, I know that the key was hanging on its usual peg, but I heard something about 'supper' and about 'ten o'clock.' May he break his neck, I say, and save me the job. Then he ordered me out of the room. Oh! I guessed! I am no fool, you know! When I came back I looked into your father's room--the key was gone, and I knew. And what I say is, why can't he come in by the front door like a man, if he has nothing to hide? Why must you let him come in like a thief by a back-door, if you have nothing to be ashamed of? The tap-room is open to anybody. Anybody can walk in and get a drink if they want to. Then why this whispering and this sneaking?" He was working himself up to a greater and ever greater passion of fury. He kept his voice low because he didn't want Ign cz Goldstein to hear--not just yet, at any rate--for Ign cz was a hard man and a stern father, and God only knew what he might not do if he was roused. Leopold did not want Klara hurt--not yet, at any rate--not until he was quite sure that she meant to play him altogether false. She was vain and frivolous, over-fond of dress and of queening it over the peasant girls of the village, but there was no real harm in her. She was immensely flattered by the young Count's attentions and over-ready to accept his presents in exchange for kisses and whisperings behind closed doors, but there was no real harm in her--so at least Leopold Hirsch kept repeating to himself time and again, whenever jealousy gnawed at his heart more roughly than he could endure. Just now that torment was almost unbearable, and the passion of fury into which he had worked himself blinded him momentarily to the dull, aching pain. Klara, as he spoke thus hoarsely, and brought his contorted face closer and closer to hers, had gradually shrunk more and more into the corner of the room, and there she remained now, flattened against the wall, her wide-open, terror-filled eyes fixed staringly upon this raving madman. "You asked just now," he continued, in the same hoarse, guttural whisper, which seemed literally to be racking and tearing his throat as it came, "what the back-door key had to do with my not going to meet my brother at Fiume. Well! It has this much to do with it, that you happen to be my tokened wife, that you happen to be of my race and of my blood, a sober, clean-living Jewess, please God, and not one of those frivolous, empty-headed Christian girls--you are that now, I know; if you were not I would kill you first and myself afterwards: therefore, if to-night I catch a thief--any thief, I don't care who he is--sneaking into this house by a back door when you happen to be here alone and seemingly unprotected, if I catch any kind of thief or malefactor, I say . . ." He paused, and she, through teeth that chattered, contrived to murmur: "Well? What do you say? Why don't you go on?" "Because you understand," he said, with calm as sudden and as terrible as his rage had been awhile ago. "I am not a Christian, you know, nor yet a gentleman. I cannot walk up either to my lord's castle or to one of these Christian Magyar peasants and strike him in the face for trying to rob me of that which is more precious to me than life. I am a Jew . . . a low-born, miserable Jew, whose whole race, origin and upbringing are despicable in the sight of the noble lords as well as of the Hungarian peasantry. Just a wretched creature whom one orders to hold one's horse, to brush one's boots, to stand out of one's way, anyhow; but not to meet as man to man, not to fight openly and frankly for the woman whom one loves. Well! You happen to be a Jewess too, and tokened to a Jew, and if either my lord or one of these d----d Magyar peasants chooses to come sneaking round you like a thief in the night, well . . ." He paused, and from the pocket of his shabby trousers he half drew out a long, sheathed hunting-knife, and then quickly hid it again from her sight. Klara smothered a desperate cry of terror. Leopold now turned his back on her; he went up to the table and seizing a carafe of water, he poured himself out a huge mugful and drank it down at a draught. The edge of the mug rattled against his teeth, his hand was trembling so that half the contents were poured down on his clothes. He did not look again on Klara, but having put the mug down, he passed his hand once or twice across his forehead as if to chase away some of those horrible thoughts which were still lurking in his brain. Then he took his cigarette-case out of his pocket, selected a cigarette, struck a match and lit it, still avoiding Klara's fixed and staring gaze. "I'll go and smoke this outside," he said quietly. "I can see both doors from the corner. When you have found that back-door key you may go to Elsa Kapus' wedding feast, but not before." He took a final look round the room, and his eyes, which had once more become dull and pale, rested with an infinite look of contempt upon the two or three besotted drunkards who, throughout this scene, had done no more than open and blink a sleepy eye. "Shall I turn these louts out for you now?" he asked. "No, no," she replied mechanically, "let them have their sleep. When they wake they'll go away all right." Just then the outer door was opened and Lakatos Andor's broad figure appeared upon the threshold. Leopold Hirsch gave him a nod, and without another look on Klara, he strode out into the night. CHAPTER XXI "Jealous, like a madman." "I came to see if B la was still here," said Andor, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold Hirsch. "One or two chaps whom I met awhile ago told me that he had not been seen in the barn this hour past, and that there was a lot of talk about it. I thought that if he were here, I could persuade you . . ." He paused, and looked more keenly at the girl. "What is it, Klara?" he asked; "you seem ill or upset . . ." She closed her eyes once or twice like someone just waking out of a dream, then she passed her hands over her forehead and over her hair. She felt completely dazed and stupid, as if she had received a stunning blow on the head, and while Andor talked she looked at him with staring eyes, not understanding a word that he said. "Yes--yes, Andor?" she said vaguely. "What can I do for you?" "Nothing much, my good Klara," he replied; "it was only about B la . . ." "Yes--about B la," she stammered; "won't . . . won't you sit down?" "Thank you, I will for a moment." She moved forward in order to get him a chair, but she found that she could not stand. The moment that she relinquished the prop of the wall, her knees gave way under her and she lurched forward against the table. She would have fallen had not Andor caught her and guided her to a chair, whereon she sank half fainting, with eyes closed and cheeks and lips the colour of ashes. Just for the moment the wild thought flew through his mind that she had been induced to drink by one of the men, but a closer look on her wan, pale face and into those dilated eyes of hers convinced him that the girl was in real and acute mental distress. He went up to the table and poured out a mug of wine, which he held to her lips. She drank eagerly, looking up at him the while with a strangely pathetic, eagerly appealing gaze. When he had taken the mug from her and replaced it on the table, he drew a chair close to her and said as kindly as he could, for he did not feel very well-disposed toward the girl who was the cause of much unhappiness to Elsa: "Now, Klara, you are going to tell me what is the matter with you." But already she had recovered herself a little, and Lakatos Andor's somewhat dictatorial tone grated upon her sensitive ear. "There's nothing the matter with me," she retorted, with a return of her habitual flippancy. "What should be the matter?" "I don't know," he said dryly; "and, of course, if you tell me that it's a private affair of your own and none of my business, why I'll be quite satisfied, and not ask any more questions. But if it's anything to do with B la . . ." "No, of course not," she broke in impatiently. "What should B la have to do with my affairs? B la has been gone from here this hour past." "And he is not coming back?" asked Andor searchingly. "I trust not," she replied fervently, and the young man noticed that the staring, terror-filled look once more crept into her eyes. "Very well, then," he said, rising, "that is all I wanted to know. I am sorry to have disturbed you. Good-night,

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Fiume in half an hour." "To Fiume?" "Yes. You know he has a brother coming home from America." "I know that." "His ship is due in at Fiume the day after to-morrow. Leopold must start by the same train as your father to-night, in order to catch the express for Fiume at Budapesth to-morrow." "Did he tell you all that?" "I have known all along that he meant to meet his brother at Fiume, and yesterday he said something about it again. So you see, my pretty one, that we can have a comfortable little supper this evening without fear of interruption. We'll have it at ten o'clock, when the supper-party is going on at the barn, eh? We shan't be interrupted then. So give me that duplicate key, will you, and I can slip in quietly through the back door without raising a bit of gossip or scandal. Hurry up now! I shall have to be going." "I can't now," she protested. "Leopold hasn't taken his eyes off me all this time." "Oh! if that is all that is troubling you, my dear," said the young man coolly, "I can easily settle our friend Leopold. Hirsch!" he called loudly. "My lord?" queried the other, with the quick obsequiousness habitual to the down-trodden race. "My horse is kicking up such a row outside. I wish you'd just go and see if the boy is looking after him properly." Of course it was impossible to do anything but obey. My lord had commanded; in the ordinary way the poor Jew shopkeeper would have felt honoured to have been selected for individual recognition. Nor did he do more now than throw one of those swift looks of his--so full of hatred and of menace--upon Klara and the young man; but the latter, having given his orders, no longer condescended to take notice of the Jew and had once more engaged the girl in animated conversation. Had Klara thought of looking up when Leopold finally obeyed my lord's commands and went to look after the horse, she could not have failed to realize the danger which lurked in the young man's pale eyes then. His face, always pale and olive-tinted, was now the colour of ashes, grey and livid and blotched with purple, his lips looked white and quivering, and his eyebrows--of a reddish tinge--met above his nose in a deep, dark scowl. But my lord had thrown out a casual hint about a gold watch, and Klara had no further thought for her jealous admirer. "Now go and fetch the key," said Count Feri, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold. The hint of the gold watch had stirred Klara's pulses. A _t te- -t te_ with my lord was, moreover, greatly to her liking. He could be very amusing when he chose, and was always generous; and Klara's life was often dull and colourless. A pleasant evening spent in his company would compensate her in a measure for her disappointment at not being asked to Elsa's ball, and there was the gold watch to look forward to, above all. Taking an opportunity when her father was absorbed in his game of tarok, she went into the next room and presently returned with a key in her hand, which she surreptitiously gave to my lord. "Splendid!" exclaimed the young man gaily. "Klara, you are a gem, and after supper you shall just ask me for anything you have a fancy for, and I'll give it to you. Now I'd better go. Good-bye, little one. Ten o'clock sharp, eh?" "Ten o'clock," she repeated, under her breath. He strode to the door, outside which he found Leopold waiting for him. "The horse was quite quiet, my lord," said the Jew sullenly; "the boy had never left it for a moment." "Oh! that's all right, Hirsch," rejoined my lord indifferently. "I only wanted to know." Of course he never thought of saying a word of thanks or of excuse to the other man. What would you? A Jew! Bah! not even worth a nod of the head. Count Feri R kosy had quickly mounted his pretty, half-bred Arab mare--a click of the tongue and she was off with him, kicking up a cloud of dust in her wake. But Leopold Hirsch had remained for a moment standing on the doorstep of Ign cz Goldstein's house. He watched horse and rider through that cloud of dust, and along the straight and broad highway, until both had become a mere speck upon the low-lying horizon. "May you break your accursed neck!" he muttered fervently. Then he went back to the tap-room. CHAPTER XX "You happen to be of my race and of my blood." He strode at once to Klara, who greeted him with an ironical little smile and a coquettish look out of her dark eyes. "You never told me that you were going away to-night, my dear Leopold," she said suavely. "Who told you that I was?" he retorted savagely. "It seems to be pretty well known about the place. You seemed to have been talking about it pretty freely that you were going to Fiume to meet your brother when the ship he is on comes in." "I meant to tell you just now, only his lordship's arrival interrupted me," he said more quietly. "And since then you have been busy making a fool of yourself before my lord, eh?" she asked. "Bah!" "And compromising me into the bargain, what? But let me tell you this, my good Leopold, before we go any further, that I am not married to you yet, and that I don't like your airs of proprietorship, _sabe_?" He could not say anything more just then, for customers were departing, and she had to attend to them; he did not try to approach her while she was thus engaged, but presently, when her back was turned, he contrived to work his way across to the door which gave on the inner room, and to push it slightly open with his hand, until he could peep through the aperture and take a quick survey of the room beyond. Klara had not seen this manoeuvre of his, although she had cast more than one rapid and furtive glance upon him while she attended to her customers. She was thankful that he was going away for a few days; in his present mood he was positively dangerous. She had lighted the oil lamp which hung from the centre of the low, raftered ceiling, the hour was getting late, customers were all leaving now one by one. Er s B la was one of the last to go. He had drunk rather more silvorium than was good for him. He knew quite well that by absenting himself from the pre-nuptial festivals he had behaved in a disgraceful and unjustifiable manner which would surely be resented throughout the village, and though he was quite sure that he did not care one brass fill r what all those ignorant peasants thought of him, yet he felt it incumbent upon him to brace up his courage now, before meeting the hostile fusillade of eyes which would be sure to greet him on his return to the barn. He meant to put in a short appearance there, and then to finish his evening here in Klara's company. He felt that his dignity demanded that he should absent himself at any rate from the supper, seeing that Elsa had so grossly defied him. "At ten o'clock I'll be back, Klara," he whispered, in the girl's ear, as he was about to take his departure along with some of his friends, who also intended to go on to the dance in the barn. "Indeed you won't," she retorted decisively, "I have no use for you, my good B la. You are almost a married man now, remember!" she added with a laugh. "I'll bring those bottles of champagne," he urged; "don't be hard on me, Klara. I'll give you a good time to-night, and a nice present into the bargain." "And ruin my reputation for ever, eh? By walking into the tap-room when it's full of people and carrying two bottles of champagne under your arm--or staying on ostentatiously after everyone has gone and for everyone to gossip. No, thank you; I've already told you that I am not going to lend myself to your little games of vengeance. It isn't me you want, it's petty revenge upon Elsa. To that I say no, thank you, my good man." "Klara!" he pleaded. "No!" she said, and unceremoniously turned her back on him. He went off, sullen and morose, and not a little chaffed for his moroseness by his friends. The tap-room was almost deserted for the moment. In one or two corners only a few stragglers lingered; they were sprawling across the tables with arms outstretched. Ign cz Goldstein's silvorium had proved too potent and too plentiful. They lay there in a drunken sleep--logs that were of no account. Presently they would have to be thrown out, but there was no hurry for that--they were not in the way. Ign cz Goldstein had gone into the next room. Klara was busy tidying up the place; Leopold approached her with well-feigned contrition and humility. "I am sorry, Klara," he said. "I seemed to have had the knack to-night of constantly annoying you. So I'd best begone now, perhaps." "I bear no malice, Leo," she said quietly. "I thought I'd come back at about nine o'clock," he continued. "It is nearly eight now." She, thinking that he had his own journey in mind, remarked casually: "You'd best be here well before nine. The train leaves at nine-twenty, and father walks very slowly." "I won't be late," he said. "Best give me the key of the back door. I'll let myself in that way." "No occasion to do that," she retorted. "The front door will be open. You can come in that way like everybody else." "It's just a fancy," he said quietly; "there might be a lot of people about just then. I don't want to come through here. I thought I'd just slip in the back way as I often do. So give me the key, Klara, will you?" "How can I give you the key of the back door?" she said, equally quietly; "you know father always carries it in his coat pocket." "But there is a second key," he remarked, "which hangs on a nail by your father's bedside in the next room. Give me that one, Klara." "I shan't," she retorted. "I never heard such nonsense! As if I could allow you to use the private door of this house just as it suits your fancy. If you want to come in to-night and say good-bye, you must come in by the front door." "It's just a whim of mine, Klara," urged Leopold, now still speaking quietly--almost under his breath--but there was an ominous tremor in his voice and sudden sharp gleams in his eyes which the girl had already noted and which caused the blood to rush back to her heart, leaving her cheeks pale and her lips trembling. "Nonsense!" she contrived to say, with an indifferent shrug of the shoulders. "Just a whim," he reiterated. "So I'll take the key, by your leave." He turned to the door of the inner room and pushed it open, just as he had done awhile ago, and now--as then--he cast a rapid glance round the room. Klara, through half-closed lids, watched his every movement. "Why!" he exclaimed, turning back to her, and with a look of well-feigned surprise, "the key is not in its place." "I know it isn't," she retorted curtly. "Then where is it?" "I have put it away." "When? It was hanging on its usual nail when I first came here this afternoon. I remember the door being open, and my glancing into the room casually. I am sure it was there then." "It may have been: but I put it away after that." "Why should you have done that?" "I don't know, and, anyhow, it's no business of yours, is it?" "Give me that back-door key, Klara," insisted the young man, in a tone of savage command. "No!" she replied, slowly and decisively. There was silence in the little, low raftered room after that, a silence only broken by the buzzing of flies against the white globe of the lamp, and by the snores of the sleepers who sprawled across the tables. Leopold Hirsch had drawn in his breath with a low, hissing sound; his face, by the yellow light of the lamp, looked ghastly in colour, and his hands were twitching convulsively as the trembling fingers clenched and opened with a monotonous, jerky movement of attempted self-control. Klara had not failed to notice these symptoms of an agony of mind which the young man was so vainly trying to hide from her. For the moment she almost felt sorry for him--sorry and slightly remorseful. After all, Leo's frame of mind, the agony which he endured, came from the strength of his love for her. Neither Er s B la, nor the young Count, nor the many admirers who had hung round her in the past until such time as their fancy found more permanent anchorage elsewhere, would have suffered tortures of soul and of heart because she had indulged in a mild flirtation with a rival. Er s B la would have stormed and cursed, the young Count would have laid his riding-whip across the shoulders of his successful rival and there would have been an end of the matter. Leopold Hirsch would go down to hell and endure the torments of the damned, then return to heaven at a smile from her, and go back to hell again and glory in his misery. But just now she was frightened of him; he looked almost like a living corpse; the skin on his face was drawn so tightly over the bones that it gave him the appearance of a skull with hollow eyes and wide, grinning mouth. Outside an owl hooted dismally. Klara gave a slight shiver of fear and looked furtively round her to see if any of the drunkards were awake. Then she recollected that her father was in the next room, and presently, from afar, came shouts of laughter and the sound of music. She woke as from a nightmare, gave her fine shoulders a little shake, and looked boldly into her jealous lover's face. "By the Lord, Leo!" she said, with a little forced laugh, "you have given me the creeps, looking as you do. How dare you frighten me like that? With your clenched hands, too, as if you wanted to murder me. There, now, don't be such a silly fool. You have got a long journey before you; it's no use making yourself sick with jealousy just before you go." "I am not going on a journey," he said, in a toneless, even voice, which seemed to come from a grave. "Not going?" she said, with a frown of puzzlement. "You were going to Fiume to meet your brother, don't you remember? The ship he is on is due in the day after to-morrow. If you don't start to-night you won't be able to catch the express at Budapesth to-morrow." "I know all that," he said, in the same dull, monotonous tone; "I am not going, that's all." "But . . ." "I have changed my mind. Your father is going away. I must watch over you to see that no one molests you. Thieves might want to break in . . . one never knows . . . anyhow, my brother can look after himself . . . I stay to look after you." For a moment or two she stood quite still, her senses strained to grasp the meaning, the purport of the present situation--this madman on the watch outside--the young Count, key in hand, swaggering up to the back door at ten o'clock, when most folk would be at supper in the barn, her father gone, the village street wrapped in darkness! Leopold, by a violent and sudden effort, had regained mastery over the muscles of his face and hands, these no longer twitched now, and he answered her look of mute inquiry with one of well-feigned quietude. Only his breath he could not control, it passed through his throat with a stertorous sound, and every now and then he had to pass his tongue over his dry, cracked lips. Thus they stood for a moment eye to eye; and what she read in his glance caused a nameless fear to strike at her heart and to paralyse her will. But the next instant she had recovered her presence of mind. With quick, febrile movements she had already taken off her apron and with her hands smoothed her unruly dark hair. Then she made for the door. Less than a second and already he had guessed her purpose: before she could reach the door he had his back against it and his nervy fingers had grasped her wrist. "Where are you going?" "Out," she said curtly. "What for?" "That's none of your business." "What for?" he reiterated hoarsely. "Let go my wrist," she exclaimed, "you are hurting me." "I'll hurt you worse," he cried, in a broken voice, "if you cross this threshold to-night." But he released her wrist, and she, wrathful, indignant, terrified, retreated to the other end of the room. "Go out by the back door," he sneered, "if you want to go out. You have the key, haven't you?" "My father . . ." she began. "Yes!" he said. "Go and tell your father that I, Leopold Hirsch, your affianced husband, am browbeating you--making a scene, what?--because you have made an assignation with my lord the young Count, here--at night--under your father's roof--under the roof of a child of Israel! You! An assignation with a dirty Christian! . . . Bah! Go and tell your father that! And he will thrash you to within an inch of your life! We are Jews, he and I, and hold the honour of our women sacred--more sacred than their life!" "Don't be a fool, Leopold," she cried, feeling that indeed, between her father and this madman, her life had ceased to be safe. She looked round her helplessly. Three or four besotted fools lying helpless across the tables, and all the village dancing and making merry some two hundred m tres away, her father--implacable, as she well knew, where her conduct was concerned--and this madman ready to kill to satisfy his lust of vengeance and of hate--she felt that indeed, unless Heaven performed a miracle, here was the beginning of an awful, an irredeemable tragedy. "Leopold, don't be a fool," she reiterated, trying with all her might not to appear frightened or scared or confused. "I have promised Kapus Elsa to go to her dance for half an hour. I had forgotten all about it. I must go now." "Go and change your dress, then," he retorted with a sneer, "then you can go out by the back way. You have put the key away somewhere, haven't you? You know where it is." "You are mad about doors to-night. I tell you I am going out now, by that front door--at once." "And I tell you," he said, slowly and deliberately, "that if you cross the front door step I will call your father and tell him that you go and meet your lover--a Christian lover--the young Count--who would as soon think of marrying you as he would a nigger or a kitchen slut. Before you will have reached the high road your father and I will be on your heels, and either he or I will strangle you ere you come within sight of my lord's castle." "You are mad!" she cried. "Or else an idiot." "Better look for that back-door key," he retorted. "What has the back-door key to do with it?" she asked sullenly. "Only this," he replied, "that while that monkey-faced dog of a Christian was whispering to you just now, I know that the key was hanging on its usual peg, but I heard something about 'supper' and about 'ten o'clock.' May he break his neck, I say, and save me the job. Then he ordered me out of the room. Oh! I guessed! I am no fool, you know! When I came back I looked into your father's room--the key was gone, and I knew. And what I say is, why can't he come in by the front door like a man, if he has nothing to hide? Why must you let him come in like a thief by a back-door, if you have nothing to be ashamed of? The tap-room is open to anybody. Anybody can walk in and get a drink if they want to. Then why this whispering and this sneaking?" He was working himself up to a greater and ever greater passion of fury. He kept his voice low because he didn't want Ign cz Goldstein to hear--not just yet, at any rate--for Ign cz was a hard man and a stern father, and God only knew what he might not do if he was roused. Leopold did not want Klara hurt--not yet, at any rate--not until he was quite sure that she meant to play him altogether false. She was vain and frivolous, over-fond of dress and of queening it over the peasant girls of the village, but there was no real harm in her. She was immensely flattered by the young Count's attentions and over-ready to accept his presents in exchange for kisses and whisperings behind closed doors, but there was no real harm in her--so at least Leopold Hirsch kept repeating to himself time and again, whenever jealousy gnawed at his heart more roughly than he could endure. Just now that torment was almost unbearable, and the passion of fury into which he had worked himself blinded him momentarily to the dull, aching pain. Klara, as he spoke thus hoarsely, and brought his contorted face closer and closer to hers, had gradually shrunk more and more into the corner of the room, and there she remained now, flattened against the wall, her wide-open, terror-filled eyes fixed staringly upon this raving madman. "You asked just now," he continued, in the same hoarse, guttural whisper, which seemed literally to be racking and tearing his throat as it came, "what the back-door key had to do with my not going to meet my brother at Fiume. Well! It has this much to do with it, that you happen to be my tokened wife, that you happen to be of my race and of my blood, a sober, clean-living Jewess, please God, and not one of those frivolous, empty-headed Christian girls--you are that now, I know; if you were not I would kill you first and myself afterwards: therefore, if to-night I catch a thief--any thief, I don't care who he is--sneaking into this house by a back door when you happen to be here alone and seemingly unprotected, if I catch any kind of thief or malefactor, I say . . ." He paused, and she, through teeth that chattered, contrived to murmur: "Well? What do you say? Why don't you go on?" "Because you understand," he said, with calm as sudden and as terrible as his rage had been awhile ago. "I am not a Christian, you know, nor yet a gentleman. I cannot walk up either to my lord's castle or to one of these Christian Magyar peasants and strike him in the face for trying to rob me of that which is more precious to me than life. I am a Jew . . . a low-born, miserable Jew, whose whole race, origin and upbringing are despicable in the sight of the noble lords as well as of the Hungarian peasantry. Just a wretched creature whom one orders to hold one's horse, to brush one's boots, to stand out of one's way, anyhow; but not to meet as man to man, not to fight openly and frankly for the woman whom one loves. Well! You happen to be a Jewess too, and tokened to a Jew, and if either my lord or one of these d----d Magyar peasants chooses to come sneaking round you like a thief in the night, well . . ." He paused, and from the pocket of his shabby trousers he half drew out a long, sheathed hunting-knife, and then quickly hid it again from her sight. Klara smothered a desperate cry of terror. Leopold now turned his back on her; he went up to the table and seizing a carafe of water, he poured himself out a huge mugful and drank it down at a draught. The edge of the mug rattled against his teeth, his hand was trembling so that half the contents were poured down on his clothes. He did not look again on Klara, but having put the mug down, he passed his hand once or twice across his forehead as if to chase away some of those horrible thoughts which were still lurking in his brain. Then he took his cigarette-case out of his pocket, selected a cigarette, struck a match and lit it, still avoiding Klara's fixed and staring gaze. "I'll go and smoke this outside," he said quietly. "I can see both doors from the corner. When you have found that back-door key you may go to Elsa Kapus' wedding feast, but not before." He took a final look round the room, and his eyes, which had once more become dull and pale, rested with an infinite look of contempt upon the two or three besotted drunkards who, throughout this scene, had done no more than open and blink a sleepy eye. "Shall I turn these louts out for you now?" he asked. "No, no," she replied mechanically, "let them have their sleep. When they wake they'll go away all right." Just then the outer door was opened and Lakatos Andor's broad figure appeared upon the threshold. Leopold Hirsch gave him a nod, and without another look on Klara, he strode out into the night. CHAPTER XXI "Jealous, like a madman." "I came to see if B la was still here," said Andor, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold Hirsch. "One or two chaps whom I met awhile ago told me that he had not been seen in the barn this hour past, and that there was a lot of talk about it. I thought that if he were here, I could persuade you . . ." He paused, and looked more keenly at the girl. "What is it, Klara?" he asked; "you seem ill or upset . . ." She closed her eyes once or twice like someone just waking out of a dream, then she passed her hands over her forehead and over her hair. She felt completely dazed and stupid, as if she had received a stunning blow on the head, and while Andor talked she looked at him with staring eyes, not understanding a word that he said. "Yes--yes, Andor?" she said vaguely. "What can I do for you?" "Nothing much, my good Klara," he replied; "it was only about B la . . ." "Yes--about B la," she stammered; "won't . . . won't you sit down?" "Thank you, I will for a moment." She moved forward in order to get him a chair, but she found that she could not stand. The moment that she relinquished the prop of the wall, her knees gave way under her and she lurched forward against the table. She would have fallen had not Andor caught her and guided her to a chair, whereon she sank half fainting, with eyes closed and cheeks and lips the colour of ashes. Just for the moment the wild thought flew through his mind that she had been induced to drink by one of the men, but a closer look on her wan, pale face and into those dilated eyes of hers convinced him that the girl was in real and acute mental distress. He went up to the table and poured out a mug of wine, which he held to her lips. She drank eagerly, looking up at him the while with a strangely pathetic, eagerly appealing gaze. When he had taken the mug from her and replaced it on the table, he drew a chair close to her and said as kindly as he could, for he did not feel very well-disposed toward the girl who was the cause of much unhappiness to Elsa: "Now, Klara, you are going to tell me what is the matter with you." But already she had recovered herself a little, and Lakatos Andor's somewhat dictatorial tone grated upon her sensitive ear. "There's nothing the matter with me," she retorted, with a return of her habitual flippancy. "What should be the matter?" "I don't know," he said dryly; "and, of course, if you tell me that it's a private affair of your own and none of my business, why I'll be quite satisfied, and not ask any more questions. But if it's anything to do with B la . . ." "No, of course not," she broke in impatiently. "What should B la have to do with my affairs? B la has been gone from here this hour past." "And he is not coming back?" asked Andor searchingly. "I trust not," she replied fervently, and the young man noticed that the staring, terror-filled look once more crept into her eyes. "Very well, then," he said, rising, "that is all I wanted to know. I am sorry to have disturbed you. Good-night,

cast

How many times the word 'cast' appears in the text?

Fiume in half an hour." "To Fiume?" "Yes. You know he has a brother coming home from America." "I know that." "His ship is due in at Fiume the day after to-morrow. Leopold must start by the same train as your father to-night, in order to catch the express for Fiume at Budapesth to-morrow." "Did he tell you all that?" "I have known all along that he meant to meet his brother at Fiume, and yesterday he said something about it again. So you see, my pretty one, that we can have a comfortable little supper this evening without fear of interruption. We'll have it at ten o'clock, when the supper-party is going on at the barn, eh? We shan't be interrupted then. So give me that duplicate key, will you, and I can slip in quietly through the back door without raising a bit of gossip or scandal. Hurry up now! I shall have to be going." "I can't now," she protested. "Leopold hasn't taken his eyes off me all this time." "Oh! if that is all that is troubling you, my dear," said the young man coolly, "I can easily settle our friend Leopold. Hirsch!" he called loudly. "My lord?" queried the other, with the quick obsequiousness habitual to the down-trodden race. "My horse is kicking up such a row outside. I wish you'd just go and see if the boy is looking after him properly." Of course it was impossible to do anything but obey. My lord had commanded; in the ordinary way the poor Jew shopkeeper would have felt honoured to have been selected for individual recognition. Nor did he do more now than throw one of those swift looks of his--so full of hatred and of menace--upon Klara and the young man; but the latter, having given his orders, no longer condescended to take notice of the Jew and had once more engaged the girl in animated conversation. Had Klara thought of looking up when Leopold finally obeyed my lord's commands and went to look after the horse, she could not have failed to realize the danger which lurked in the young man's pale eyes then. His face, always pale and olive-tinted, was now the colour of ashes, grey and livid and blotched with purple, his lips looked white and quivering, and his eyebrows--of a reddish tinge--met above his nose in a deep, dark scowl. But my lord had thrown out a casual hint about a gold watch, and Klara had no further thought for her jealous admirer. "Now go and fetch the key," said Count Feri, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold. The hint of the gold watch had stirred Klara's pulses. A _t te- -t te_ with my lord was, moreover, greatly to her liking. He could be very amusing when he chose, and was always generous; and Klara's life was often dull and colourless. A pleasant evening spent in his company would compensate her in a measure for her disappointment at not being asked to Elsa's ball, and there was the gold watch to look forward to, above all. Taking an opportunity when her father was absorbed in his game of tarok, she went into the next room and presently returned with a key in her hand, which she surreptitiously gave to my lord. "Splendid!" exclaimed the young man gaily. "Klara, you are a gem, and after supper you shall just ask me for anything you have a fancy for, and I'll give it to you. Now I'd better go. Good-bye, little one. Ten o'clock sharp, eh?" "Ten o'clock," she repeated, under her breath. He strode to the door, outside which he found Leopold waiting for him. "The horse was quite quiet, my lord," said the Jew sullenly; "the boy had never left it for a moment." "Oh! that's all right, Hirsch," rejoined my lord indifferently. "I only wanted to know." Of course he never thought of saying a word of thanks or of excuse to the other man. What would you? A Jew! Bah! not even worth a nod of the head. Count Feri R kosy had quickly mounted his pretty, half-bred Arab mare--a click of the tongue and she was off with him, kicking up a cloud of dust in her wake. But Leopold Hirsch had remained for a moment standing on the doorstep of Ign cz Goldstein's house. He watched horse and rider through that cloud of dust, and along the straight and broad highway, until both had become a mere speck upon the low-lying horizon. "May you break your accursed neck!" he muttered fervently. Then he went back to the tap-room. CHAPTER XX "You happen to be of my race and of my blood." He strode at once to Klara, who greeted him with an ironical little smile and a coquettish look out of her dark eyes. "You never told me that you were going away to-night, my dear Leopold," she said suavely. "Who told you that I was?" he retorted savagely. "It seems to be pretty well known about the place. You seemed to have been talking about it pretty freely that you were going to Fiume to meet your brother when the ship he is on comes in." "I meant to tell you just now, only his lordship's arrival interrupted me," he said more quietly. "And since then you have been busy making a fool of yourself before my lord, eh?" she asked. "Bah!" "And compromising me into the bargain, what? But let me tell you this, my good Leopold, before we go any further, that I am not married to you yet, and that I don't like your airs of proprietorship, _sabe_?" He could not say anything more just then, for customers were departing, and she had to attend to them; he did not try to approach her while she was thus engaged, but presently, when her back was turned, he contrived to work his way across to the door which gave on the inner room, and to push it slightly open with his hand, until he could peep through the aperture and take a quick survey of the room beyond. Klara had not seen this manoeuvre of his, although she had cast more than one rapid and furtive glance upon him while she attended to her customers. She was thankful that he was going away for a few days; in his present mood he was positively dangerous. She had lighted the oil lamp which hung from the centre of the low, raftered ceiling, the hour was getting late, customers were all leaving now one by one. Er s B la was one of the last to go. He had drunk rather more silvorium than was good for him. He knew quite well that by absenting himself from the pre-nuptial festivals he had behaved in a disgraceful and unjustifiable manner which would surely be resented throughout the village, and though he was quite sure that he did not care one brass fill r what all those ignorant peasants thought of him, yet he felt it incumbent upon him to brace up his courage now, before meeting the hostile fusillade of eyes which would be sure to greet him on his return to the barn. He meant to put in a short appearance there, and then to finish his evening here in Klara's company. He felt that his dignity demanded that he should absent himself at any rate from the supper, seeing that Elsa had so grossly defied him. "At ten o'clock I'll be back, Klara," he whispered, in the girl's ear, as he was about to take his departure along with some of his friends, who also intended to go on to the dance in the barn. "Indeed you won't," she retorted decisively, "I have no use for you, my good B la. You are almost a married man now, remember!" she added with a laugh. "I'll bring those bottles of champagne," he urged; "don't be hard on me, Klara. I'll give you a good time to-night, and a nice present into the bargain." "And ruin my reputation for ever, eh? By walking into the tap-room when it's full of people and carrying two bottles of champagne under your arm--or staying on ostentatiously after everyone has gone and for everyone to gossip. No, thank you; I've already told you that I am not going to lend myself to your little games of vengeance. It isn't me you want, it's petty revenge upon Elsa. To that I say no, thank you, my good man." "Klara!" he pleaded. "No!" she said, and unceremoniously turned her back on him. He went off, sullen and morose, and not a little chaffed for his moroseness by his friends. The tap-room was almost deserted for the moment. In one or two corners only a few stragglers lingered; they were sprawling across the tables with arms outstretched. Ign cz Goldstein's silvorium had proved too potent and too plentiful. They lay there in a drunken sleep--logs that were of no account. Presently they would have to be thrown out, but there was no hurry for that--they were not in the way. Ign cz Goldstein had gone into the next room. Klara was busy tidying up the place; Leopold approached her with well-feigned contrition and humility. "I am sorry, Klara," he said. "I seemed to have had the knack to-night of constantly annoying you. So I'd best begone now, perhaps." "I bear no malice, Leo," she said quietly. "I thought I'd come back at about nine o'clock," he continued. "It is nearly eight now." She, thinking that he had his own journey in mind, remarked casually: "You'd best be here well before nine. The train leaves at nine-twenty, and father walks very slowly." "I won't be late," he said. "Best give me the key of the back door. I'll let myself in that way." "No occasion to do that," she retorted. "The front door will be open. You can come in that way like everybody else." "It's just a fancy," he said quietly; "there might be a lot of people about just then. I don't want to come through here. I thought I'd just slip in the back way as I often do. So give me the key, Klara, will you?" "How can I give you the key of the back door?" she said, equally quietly; "you know father always carries it in his coat pocket." "But there is a second key," he remarked, "which hangs on a nail by your father's bedside in the next room. Give me that one, Klara." "I shan't," she retorted. "I never heard such nonsense! As if I could allow you to use the private door of this house just as it suits your fancy. If you want to come in to-night and say good-bye, you must come in by the front door." "It's just a whim of mine, Klara," urged Leopold, now still speaking quietly--almost under his breath--but there was an ominous tremor in his voice and sudden sharp gleams in his eyes which the girl had already noted and which caused the blood to rush back to her heart, leaving her cheeks pale and her lips trembling. "Nonsense!" she contrived to say, with an indifferent shrug of the shoulders. "Just a whim," he reiterated. "So I'll take the key, by your leave." He turned to the door of the inner room and pushed it open, just as he had done awhile ago, and now--as then--he cast a rapid glance round the room. Klara, through half-closed lids, watched his every movement. "Why!" he exclaimed, turning back to her, and with a look of well-feigned surprise, "the key is not in its place." "I know it isn't," she retorted curtly. "Then where is it?" "I have put it away." "When? It was hanging on its usual nail when I first came here this afternoon. I remember the door being open, and my glancing into the room casually. I am sure it was there then." "It may have been: but I put it away after that." "Why should you have done that?" "I don't know, and, anyhow, it's no business of yours, is it?" "Give me that back-door key, Klara," insisted the young man, in a tone of savage command. "No!" she replied, slowly and decisively. There was silence in the little, low raftered room after that, a silence only broken by the buzzing of flies against the white globe of the lamp, and by the snores of the sleepers who sprawled across the tables. Leopold Hirsch had drawn in his breath with a low, hissing sound; his face, by the yellow light of the lamp, looked ghastly in colour, and his hands were twitching convulsively as the trembling fingers clenched and opened with a monotonous, jerky movement of attempted self-control. Klara had not failed to notice these symptoms of an agony of mind which the young man was so vainly trying to hide from her. For the moment she almost felt sorry for him--sorry and slightly remorseful. After all, Leo's frame of mind, the agony which he endured, came from the strength of his love for her. Neither Er s B la, nor the young Count, nor the many admirers who had hung round her in the past until such time as their fancy found more permanent anchorage elsewhere, would have suffered tortures of soul and of heart because she had indulged in a mild flirtation with a rival. Er s B la would have stormed and cursed, the young Count would have laid his riding-whip across the shoulders of his successful rival and there would have been an end of the matter. Leopold Hirsch would go down to hell and endure the torments of the damned, then return to heaven at a smile from her, and go back to hell again and glory in his misery. But just now she was frightened of him; he looked almost like a living corpse; the skin on his face was drawn so tightly over the bones that it gave him the appearance of a skull with hollow eyes and wide, grinning mouth. Outside an owl hooted dismally. Klara gave a slight shiver of fear and looked furtively round her to see if any of the drunkards were awake. Then she recollected that her father was in the next room, and presently, from afar, came shouts of laughter and the sound of music. She woke as from a nightmare, gave her fine shoulders a little shake, and looked boldly into her jealous lover's face. "By the Lord, Leo!" she said, with a little forced laugh, "you have given me the creeps, looking as you do. How dare you frighten me like that? With your clenched hands, too, as if you wanted to murder me. There, now, don't be such a silly fool. You have got a long journey before you; it's no use making yourself sick with jealousy just before you go." "I am not going on a journey," he said, in a toneless, even voice, which seemed to come from a grave. "Not going?" she said, with a frown of puzzlement. "You were going to Fiume to meet your brother, don't you remember? The ship he is on is due in the day after to-morrow. If you don't start to-night you won't be able to catch the express at Budapesth to-morrow." "I know all that," he said, in the same dull, monotonous tone; "I am not going, that's all." "But . . ." "I have changed my mind. Your father is going away. I must watch over you to see that no one molests you. Thieves might want to break in . . . one never knows . . . anyhow, my brother can look after himself . . . I stay to look after you." For a moment or two she stood quite still, her senses strained to grasp the meaning, the purport of the present situation--this madman on the watch outside--the young Count, key in hand, swaggering up to the back door at ten o'clock, when most folk would be at supper in the barn, her father gone, the village street wrapped in darkness! Leopold, by a violent and sudden effort, had regained mastery over the muscles of his face and hands, these no longer twitched now, and he answered her look of mute inquiry with one of well-feigned quietude. Only his breath he could not control, it passed through his throat with a stertorous sound, and every now and then he had to pass his tongue over his dry, cracked lips. Thus they stood for a moment eye to eye; and what she read in his glance caused a nameless fear to strike at her heart and to paralyse her will. But the next instant she had recovered her presence of mind. With quick, febrile movements she had already taken off her apron and with her hands smoothed her unruly dark hair. Then she made for the door. Less than a second and already he had guessed her purpose: before she could reach the door he had his back against it and his nervy fingers had grasped her wrist. "Where are you going?" "Out," she said curtly. "What for?" "That's none of your business." "What for?" he reiterated hoarsely. "Let go my wrist," she exclaimed, "you are hurting me." "I'll hurt you worse," he cried, in a broken voice, "if you cross this threshold to-night." But he released her wrist, and she, wrathful, indignant, terrified, retreated to the other end of the room. "Go out by the back door," he sneered, "if you want to go out. You have the key, haven't you?" "My father . . ." she began. "Yes!" he said. "Go and tell your father that I, Leopold Hirsch, your affianced husband, am browbeating you--making a scene, what?--because you have made an assignation with my lord the young Count, here--at night--under your father's roof--under the roof of a child of Israel! You! An assignation with a dirty Christian! . . . Bah! Go and tell your father that! And he will thrash you to within an inch of your life! We are Jews, he and I, and hold the honour of our women sacred--more sacred than their life!" "Don't be a fool, Leopold," she cried, feeling that indeed, between her father and this madman, her life had ceased to be safe. She looked round her helplessly. Three or four besotted fools lying helpless across the tables, and all the village dancing and making merry some two hundred m tres away, her father--implacable, as she well knew, where her conduct was concerned--and this madman ready to kill to satisfy his lust of vengeance and of hate--she felt that indeed, unless Heaven performed a miracle, here was the beginning of an awful, an irredeemable tragedy. "Leopold, don't be a fool," she reiterated, trying with all her might not to appear frightened or scared or confused. "I have promised Kapus Elsa to go to her dance for half an hour. I had forgotten all about it. I must go now." "Go and change your dress, then," he retorted with a sneer, "then you can go out by the back way. You have put the key away somewhere, haven't you? You know where it is." "You are mad about doors to-night. I tell you I am going out now, by that front door--at once." "And I tell you," he said, slowly and deliberately, "that if you cross the front door step I will call your father and tell him that you go and meet your lover--a Christian lover--the young Count--who would as soon think of marrying you as he would a nigger or a kitchen slut. Before you will have reached the high road your father and I will be on your heels, and either he or I will strangle you ere you come within sight of my lord's castle." "You are mad!" she cried. "Or else an idiot." "Better look for that back-door key," he retorted. "What has the back-door key to do with it?" she asked sullenly. "Only this," he replied, "that while that monkey-faced dog of a Christian was whispering to you just now, I know that the key was hanging on its usual peg, but I heard something about 'supper' and about 'ten o'clock.' May he break his neck, I say, and save me the job. Then he ordered me out of the room. Oh! I guessed! I am no fool, you know! When I came back I looked into your father's room--the key was gone, and I knew. And what I say is, why can't he come in by the front door like a man, if he has nothing to hide? Why must you let him come in like a thief by a back-door, if you have nothing to be ashamed of? The tap-room is open to anybody. Anybody can walk in and get a drink if they want to. Then why this whispering and this sneaking?" He was working himself up to a greater and ever greater passion of fury. He kept his voice low because he didn't want Ign cz Goldstein to hear--not just yet, at any rate--for Ign cz was a hard man and a stern father, and God only knew what he might not do if he was roused. Leopold did not want Klara hurt--not yet, at any rate--not until he was quite sure that she meant to play him altogether false. She was vain and frivolous, over-fond of dress and of queening it over the peasant girls of the village, but there was no real harm in her. She was immensely flattered by the young Count's attentions and over-ready to accept his presents in exchange for kisses and whisperings behind closed doors, but there was no real harm in her--so at least Leopold Hirsch kept repeating to himself time and again, whenever jealousy gnawed at his heart more roughly than he could endure. Just now that torment was almost unbearable, and the passion of fury into which he had worked himself blinded him momentarily to the dull, aching pain. Klara, as he spoke thus hoarsely, and brought his contorted face closer and closer to hers, had gradually shrunk more and more into the corner of the room, and there she remained now, flattened against the wall, her wide-open, terror-filled eyes fixed staringly upon this raving madman. "You asked just now," he continued, in the same hoarse, guttural whisper, which seemed literally to be racking and tearing his throat as it came, "what the back-door key had to do with my not going to meet my brother at Fiume. Well! It has this much to do with it, that you happen to be my tokened wife, that you happen to be of my race and of my blood, a sober, clean-living Jewess, please God, and not one of those frivolous, empty-headed Christian girls--you are that now, I know; if you were not I would kill you first and myself afterwards: therefore, if to-night I catch a thief--any thief, I don't care who he is--sneaking into this house by a back door when you happen to be here alone and seemingly unprotected, if I catch any kind of thief or malefactor, I say . . ." He paused, and she, through teeth that chattered, contrived to murmur: "Well? What do you say? Why don't you go on?" "Because you understand," he said, with calm as sudden and as terrible as his rage had been awhile ago. "I am not a Christian, you know, nor yet a gentleman. I cannot walk up either to my lord's castle or to one of these Christian Magyar peasants and strike him in the face for trying to rob me of that which is more precious to me than life. I am a Jew . . . a low-born, miserable Jew, whose whole race, origin and upbringing are despicable in the sight of the noble lords as well as of the Hungarian peasantry. Just a wretched creature whom one orders to hold one's horse, to brush one's boots, to stand out of one's way, anyhow; but not to meet as man to man, not to fight openly and frankly for the woman whom one loves. Well! You happen to be a Jewess too, and tokened to a Jew, and if either my lord or one of these d----d Magyar peasants chooses to come sneaking round you like a thief in the night, well . . ." He paused, and from the pocket of his shabby trousers he half drew out a long, sheathed hunting-knife, and then quickly hid it again from her sight. Klara smothered a desperate cry of terror. Leopold now turned his back on her; he went up to the table and seizing a carafe of water, he poured himself out a huge mugful and drank it down at a draught. The edge of the mug rattled against his teeth, his hand was trembling so that half the contents were poured down on his clothes. He did not look again on Klara, but having put the mug down, he passed his hand once or twice across his forehead as if to chase away some of those horrible thoughts which were still lurking in his brain. Then he took his cigarette-case out of his pocket, selected a cigarette, struck a match and lit it, still avoiding Klara's fixed and staring gaze. "I'll go and smoke this outside," he said quietly. "I can see both doors from the corner. When you have found that back-door key you may go to Elsa Kapus' wedding feast, but not before." He took a final look round the room, and his eyes, which had once more become dull and pale, rested with an infinite look of contempt upon the two or three besotted drunkards who, throughout this scene, had done no more than open and blink a sleepy eye. "Shall I turn these louts out for you now?" he asked. "No, no," she replied mechanically, "let them have their sleep. When they wake they'll go away all right." Just then the outer door was opened and Lakatos Andor's broad figure appeared upon the threshold. Leopold Hirsch gave him a nod, and without another look on Klara, he strode out into the night. CHAPTER XXI "Jealous, like a madman." "I came to see if B la was still here," said Andor, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold Hirsch. "One or two chaps whom I met awhile ago told me that he had not been seen in the barn this hour past, and that there was a lot of talk about it. I thought that if he were here, I could persuade you . . ." He paused, and looked more keenly at the girl. "What is it, Klara?" he asked; "you seem ill or upset . . ." She closed her eyes once or twice like someone just waking out of a dream, then she passed her hands over her forehead and over her hair. She felt completely dazed and stupid, as if she had received a stunning blow on the head, and while Andor talked she looked at him with staring eyes, not understanding a word that he said. "Yes--yes, Andor?" she said vaguely. "What can I do for you?" "Nothing much, my good Klara," he replied; "it was only about B la . . ." "Yes--about B la," she stammered; "won't . . . won't you sit down?" "Thank you, I will for a moment." She moved forward in order to get him a chair, but she found that she could not stand. The moment that she relinquished the prop of the wall, her knees gave way under her and she lurched forward against the table. She would have fallen had not Andor caught her and guided her to a chair, whereon she sank half fainting, with eyes closed and cheeks and lips the colour of ashes. Just for the moment the wild thought flew through his mind that she had been induced to drink by one of the men, but a closer look on her wan, pale face and into those dilated eyes of hers convinced him that the girl was in real and acute mental distress. He went up to the table and poured out a mug of wine, which he held to her lips. She drank eagerly, looking up at him the while with a strangely pathetic, eagerly appealing gaze. When he had taken the mug from her and replaced it on the table, he drew a chair close to her and said as kindly as he could, for he did not feel very well-disposed toward the girl who was the cause of much unhappiness to Elsa: "Now, Klara, you are going to tell me what is the matter with you." But already she had recovered herself a little, and Lakatos Andor's somewhat dictatorial tone grated upon her sensitive ear. "There's nothing the matter with me," she retorted, with a return of her habitual flippancy. "What should be the matter?" "I don't know," he said dryly; "and, of course, if you tell me that it's a private affair of your own and none of my business, why I'll be quite satisfied, and not ask any more questions. But if it's anything to do with B la . . ." "No, of course not," she broke in impatiently. "What should B la have to do with my affairs? B la has been gone from here this hour past." "And he is not coming back?" asked Andor searchingly. "I trust not," she replied fervently, and the young man noticed that the staring, terror-filled look once more crept into her eyes. "Very well, then," he said, rising, "that is all I wanted to know. I am sorry to have disturbed you. Good-night,

respected

How many times the word 'respected' appears in the text?

Fiume in half an hour." "To Fiume?" "Yes. You know he has a brother coming home from America." "I know that." "His ship is due in at Fiume the day after to-morrow. Leopold must start by the same train as your father to-night, in order to catch the express for Fiume at Budapesth to-morrow." "Did he tell you all that?" "I have known all along that he meant to meet his brother at Fiume, and yesterday he said something about it again. So you see, my pretty one, that we can have a comfortable little supper this evening without fear of interruption. We'll have it at ten o'clock, when the supper-party is going on at the barn, eh? We shan't be interrupted then. So give me that duplicate key, will you, and I can slip in quietly through the back door without raising a bit of gossip or scandal. Hurry up now! I shall have to be going." "I can't now," she protested. "Leopold hasn't taken his eyes off me all this time." "Oh! if that is all that is troubling you, my dear," said the young man coolly, "I can easily settle our friend Leopold. Hirsch!" he called loudly. "My lord?" queried the other, with the quick obsequiousness habitual to the down-trodden race. "My horse is kicking up such a row outside. I wish you'd just go and see if the boy is looking after him properly." Of course it was impossible to do anything but obey. My lord had commanded; in the ordinary way the poor Jew shopkeeper would have felt honoured to have been selected for individual recognition. Nor did he do more now than throw one of those swift looks of his--so full of hatred and of menace--upon Klara and the young man; but the latter, having given his orders, no longer condescended to take notice of the Jew and had once more engaged the girl in animated conversation. Had Klara thought of looking up when Leopold finally obeyed my lord's commands and went to look after the horse, she could not have failed to realize the danger which lurked in the young man's pale eyes then. His face, always pale and olive-tinted, was now the colour of ashes, grey and livid and blotched with purple, his lips looked white and quivering, and his eyebrows--of a reddish tinge--met above his nose in a deep, dark scowl. But my lord had thrown out a casual hint about a gold watch, and Klara had no further thought for her jealous admirer. "Now go and fetch the key," said Count Feri, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold. The hint of the gold watch had stirred Klara's pulses. A _t te- -t te_ with my lord was, moreover, greatly to her liking. He could be very amusing when he chose, and was always generous; and Klara's life was often dull and colourless. A pleasant evening spent in his company would compensate her in a measure for her disappointment at not being asked to Elsa's ball, and there was the gold watch to look forward to, above all. Taking an opportunity when her father was absorbed in his game of tarok, she went into the next room and presently returned with a key in her hand, which she surreptitiously gave to my lord. "Splendid!" exclaimed the young man gaily. "Klara, you are a gem, and after supper you shall just ask me for anything you have a fancy for, and I'll give it to you. Now I'd better go. Good-bye, little one. Ten o'clock sharp, eh?" "Ten o'clock," she repeated, under her breath. He strode to the door, outside which he found Leopold waiting for him. "The horse was quite quiet, my lord," said the Jew sullenly; "the boy had never left it for a moment." "Oh! that's all right, Hirsch," rejoined my lord indifferently. "I only wanted to know." Of course he never thought of saying a word of thanks or of excuse to the other man. What would you? A Jew! Bah! not even worth a nod of the head. Count Feri R kosy had quickly mounted his pretty, half-bred Arab mare--a click of the tongue and she was off with him, kicking up a cloud of dust in her wake. But Leopold Hirsch had remained for a moment standing on the doorstep of Ign cz Goldstein's house. He watched horse and rider through that cloud of dust, and along the straight and broad highway, until both had become a mere speck upon the low-lying horizon. "May you break your accursed neck!" he muttered fervently. Then he went back to the tap-room. CHAPTER XX "You happen to be of my race and of my blood." He strode at once to Klara, who greeted him with an ironical little smile and a coquettish look out of her dark eyes. "You never told me that you were going away to-night, my dear Leopold," she said suavely. "Who told you that I was?" he retorted savagely. "It seems to be pretty well known about the place. You seemed to have been talking about it pretty freely that you were going to Fiume to meet your brother when the ship he is on comes in." "I meant to tell you just now, only his lordship's arrival interrupted me," he said more quietly. "And since then you have been busy making a fool of yourself before my lord, eh?" she asked. "Bah!" "And compromising me into the bargain, what? But let me tell you this, my good Leopold, before we go any further, that I am not married to you yet, and that I don't like your airs of proprietorship, _sabe_?" He could not say anything more just then, for customers were departing, and she had to attend to them; he did not try to approach her while she was thus engaged, but presently, when her back was turned, he contrived to work his way across to the door which gave on the inner room, and to push it slightly open with his hand, until he could peep through the aperture and take a quick survey of the room beyond. Klara had not seen this manoeuvre of his, although she had cast more than one rapid and furtive glance upon him while she attended to her customers. She was thankful that he was going away for a few days; in his present mood he was positively dangerous. She had lighted the oil lamp which hung from the centre of the low, raftered ceiling, the hour was getting late, customers were all leaving now one by one. Er s B la was one of the last to go. He had drunk rather more silvorium than was good for him. He knew quite well that by absenting himself from the pre-nuptial festivals he had behaved in a disgraceful and unjustifiable manner which would surely be resented throughout the village, and though he was quite sure that he did not care one brass fill r what all those ignorant peasants thought of him, yet he felt it incumbent upon him to brace up his courage now, before meeting the hostile fusillade of eyes which would be sure to greet him on his return to the barn. He meant to put in a short appearance there, and then to finish his evening here in Klara's company. He felt that his dignity demanded that he should absent himself at any rate from the supper, seeing that Elsa had so grossly defied him. "At ten o'clock I'll be back, Klara," he whispered, in the girl's ear, as he was about to take his departure along with some of his friends, who also intended to go on to the dance in the barn. "Indeed you won't," she retorted decisively, "I have no use for you, my good B la. You are almost a married man now, remember!" she added with a laugh. "I'll bring those bottles of champagne," he urged; "don't be hard on me, Klara. I'll give you a good time to-night, and a nice present into the bargain." "And ruin my reputation for ever, eh? By walking into the tap-room when it's full of people and carrying two bottles of champagne under your arm--or staying on ostentatiously after everyone has gone and for everyone to gossip. No, thank you; I've already told you that I am not going to lend myself to your little games of vengeance. It isn't me you want, it's petty revenge upon Elsa. To that I say no, thank you, my good man." "Klara!" he pleaded. "No!" she said, and unceremoniously turned her back on him. He went off, sullen and morose, and not a little chaffed for his moroseness by his friends. The tap-room was almost deserted for the moment. In one or two corners only a few stragglers lingered; they were sprawling across the tables with arms outstretched. Ign cz Goldstein's silvorium had proved too potent and too plentiful. They lay there in a drunken sleep--logs that were of no account. Presently they would have to be thrown out, but there was no hurry for that--they were not in the way. Ign cz Goldstein had gone into the next room. Klara was busy tidying up the place; Leopold approached her with well-feigned contrition and humility. "I am sorry, Klara," he said. "I seemed to have had the knack to-night of constantly annoying you. So I'd best begone now, perhaps." "I bear no malice, Leo," she said quietly. "I thought I'd come back at about nine o'clock," he continued. "It is nearly eight now." She, thinking that he had his own journey in mind, remarked casually: "You'd best be here well before nine. The train leaves at nine-twenty, and father walks very slowly." "I won't be late," he said. "Best give me the key of the back door. I'll let myself in that way." "No occasion to do that," she retorted. "The front door will be open. You can come in that way like everybody else." "It's just a fancy," he said quietly; "there might be a lot of people about just then. I don't want to come through here. I thought I'd just slip in the back way as I often do. So give me the key, Klara, will you?" "How can I give you the key of the back door?" she said, equally quietly; "you know father always carries it in his coat pocket." "But there is a second key," he remarked, "which hangs on a nail by your father's bedside in the next room. Give me that one, Klara." "I shan't," she retorted. "I never heard such nonsense! As if I could allow you to use the private door of this house just as it suits your fancy. If you want to come in to-night and say good-bye, you must come in by the front door." "It's just a whim of mine, Klara," urged Leopold, now still speaking quietly--almost under his breath--but there was an ominous tremor in his voice and sudden sharp gleams in his eyes which the girl had already noted and which caused the blood to rush back to her heart, leaving her cheeks pale and her lips trembling. "Nonsense!" she contrived to say, with an indifferent shrug of the shoulders. "Just a whim," he reiterated. "So I'll take the key, by your leave." He turned to the door of the inner room and pushed it open, just as he had done awhile ago, and now--as then--he cast a rapid glance round the room. Klara, through half-closed lids, watched his every movement. "Why!" he exclaimed, turning back to her, and with a look of well-feigned surprise, "the key is not in its place." "I know it isn't," she retorted curtly. "Then where is it?" "I have put it away." "When? It was hanging on its usual nail when I first came here this afternoon. I remember the door being open, and my glancing into the room casually. I am sure it was there then." "It may have been: but I put it away after that." "Why should you have done that?" "I don't know, and, anyhow, it's no business of yours, is it?" "Give me that back-door key, Klara," insisted the young man, in a tone of savage command. "No!" she replied, slowly and decisively. There was silence in the little, low raftered room after that, a silence only broken by the buzzing of flies against the white globe of the lamp, and by the snores of the sleepers who sprawled across the tables. Leopold Hirsch had drawn in his breath with a low, hissing sound; his face, by the yellow light of the lamp, looked ghastly in colour, and his hands were twitching convulsively as the trembling fingers clenched and opened with a monotonous, jerky movement of attempted self-control. Klara had not failed to notice these symptoms of an agony of mind which the young man was so vainly trying to hide from her. For the moment she almost felt sorry for him--sorry and slightly remorseful. After all, Leo's frame of mind, the agony which he endured, came from the strength of his love for her. Neither Er s B la, nor the young Count, nor the many admirers who had hung round her in the past until such time as their fancy found more permanent anchorage elsewhere, would have suffered tortures of soul and of heart because she had indulged in a mild flirtation with a rival. Er s B la would have stormed and cursed, the young Count would have laid his riding-whip across the shoulders of his successful rival and there would have been an end of the matter. Leopold Hirsch would go down to hell and endure the torments of the damned, then return to heaven at a smile from her, and go back to hell again and glory in his misery. But just now she was frightened of him; he looked almost like a living corpse; the skin on his face was drawn so tightly over the bones that it gave him the appearance of a skull with hollow eyes and wide, grinning mouth. Outside an owl hooted dismally. Klara gave a slight shiver of fear and looked furtively round her to see if any of the drunkards were awake. Then she recollected that her father was in the next room, and presently, from afar, came shouts of laughter and the sound of music. She woke as from a nightmare, gave her fine shoulders a little shake, and looked boldly into her jealous lover's face. "By the Lord, Leo!" she said, with a little forced laugh, "you have given me the creeps, looking as you do. How dare you frighten me like that? With your clenched hands, too, as if you wanted to murder me. There, now, don't be such a silly fool. You have got a long journey before you; it's no use making yourself sick with jealousy just before you go." "I am not going on a journey," he said, in a toneless, even voice, which seemed to come from a grave. "Not going?" she said, with a frown of puzzlement. "You were going to Fiume to meet your brother, don't you remember? The ship he is on is due in the day after to-morrow. If you don't start to-night you won't be able to catch the express at Budapesth to-morrow." "I know all that," he said, in the same dull, monotonous tone; "I am not going, that's all." "But . . ." "I have changed my mind. Your father is going away. I must watch over you to see that no one molests you. Thieves might want to break in . . . one never knows . . . anyhow, my brother can look after himself . . . I stay to look after you." For a moment or two she stood quite still, her senses strained to grasp the meaning, the purport of the present situation--this madman on the watch outside--the young Count, key in hand, swaggering up to the back door at ten o'clock, when most folk would be at supper in the barn, her father gone, the village street wrapped in darkness! Leopold, by a violent and sudden effort, had regained mastery over the muscles of his face and hands, these no longer twitched now, and he answered her look of mute inquiry with one of well-feigned quietude. Only his breath he could not control, it passed through his throat with a stertorous sound, and every now and then he had to pass his tongue over his dry, cracked lips. Thus they stood for a moment eye to eye; and what she read in his glance caused a nameless fear to strike at her heart and to paralyse her will. But the next instant she had recovered her presence of mind. With quick, febrile movements she had already taken off her apron and with her hands smoothed her unruly dark hair. Then she made for the door. Less than a second and already he had guessed her purpose: before she could reach the door he had his back against it and his nervy fingers had grasped her wrist. "Where are you going?" "Out," she said curtly. "What for?" "That's none of your business." "What for?" he reiterated hoarsely. "Let go my wrist," she exclaimed, "you are hurting me." "I'll hurt you worse," he cried, in a broken voice, "if you cross this threshold to-night." But he released her wrist, and she, wrathful, indignant, terrified, retreated to the other end of the room. "Go out by the back door," he sneered, "if you want to go out. You have the key, haven't you?" "My father . . ." she began. "Yes!" he said. "Go and tell your father that I, Leopold Hirsch, your affianced husband, am browbeating you--making a scene, what?--because you have made an assignation with my lord the young Count, here--at night--under your father's roof--under the roof of a child of Israel! You! An assignation with a dirty Christian! . . . Bah! Go and tell your father that! And he will thrash you to within an inch of your life! We are Jews, he and I, and hold the honour of our women sacred--more sacred than their life!" "Don't be a fool, Leopold," she cried, feeling that indeed, between her father and this madman, her life had ceased to be safe. She looked round her helplessly. Three or four besotted fools lying helpless across the tables, and all the village dancing and making merry some two hundred m tres away, her father--implacable, as she well knew, where her conduct was concerned--and this madman ready to kill to satisfy his lust of vengeance and of hate--she felt that indeed, unless Heaven performed a miracle, here was the beginning of an awful, an irredeemable tragedy. "Leopold, don't be a fool," she reiterated, trying with all her might not to appear frightened or scared or confused. "I have promised Kapus Elsa to go to her dance for half an hour. I had forgotten all about it. I must go now." "Go and change your dress, then," he retorted with a sneer, "then you can go out by the back way. You have put the key away somewhere, haven't you? You know where it is." "You are mad about doors to-night. I tell you I am going out now, by that front door--at once." "And I tell you," he said, slowly and deliberately, "that if you cross the front door step I will call your father and tell him that you go and meet your lover--a Christian lover--the young Count--who would as soon think of marrying you as he would a nigger or a kitchen slut. Before you will have reached the high road your father and I will be on your heels, and either he or I will strangle you ere you come within sight of my lord's castle." "You are mad!" she cried. "Or else an idiot." "Better look for that back-door key," he retorted. "What has the back-door key to do with it?" she asked sullenly. "Only this," he replied, "that while that monkey-faced dog of a Christian was whispering to you just now, I know that the key was hanging on its usual peg, but I heard something about 'supper' and about 'ten o'clock.' May he break his neck, I say, and save me the job. Then he ordered me out of the room. Oh! I guessed! I am no fool, you know! When I came back I looked into your father's room--the key was gone, and I knew. And what I say is, why can't he come in by the front door like a man, if he has nothing to hide? Why must you let him come in like a thief by a back-door, if you have nothing to be ashamed of? The tap-room is open to anybody. Anybody can walk in and get a drink if they want to. Then why this whispering and this sneaking?" He was working himself up to a greater and ever greater passion of fury. He kept his voice low because he didn't want Ign cz Goldstein to hear--not just yet, at any rate--for Ign cz was a hard man and a stern father, and God only knew what he might not do if he was roused. Leopold did not want Klara hurt--not yet, at any rate--not until he was quite sure that she meant to play him altogether false. She was vain and frivolous, over-fond of dress and of queening it over the peasant girls of the village, but there was no real harm in her. She was immensely flattered by the young Count's attentions and over-ready to accept his presents in exchange for kisses and whisperings behind closed doors, but there was no real harm in her--so at least Leopold Hirsch kept repeating to himself time and again, whenever jealousy gnawed at his heart more roughly than he could endure. Just now that torment was almost unbearable, and the passion of fury into which he had worked himself blinded him momentarily to the dull, aching pain. Klara, as he spoke thus hoarsely, and brought his contorted face closer and closer to hers, had gradually shrunk more and more into the corner of the room, and there she remained now, flattened against the wall, her wide-open, terror-filled eyes fixed staringly upon this raving madman. "You asked just now," he continued, in the same hoarse, guttural whisper, which seemed literally to be racking and tearing his throat as it came, "what the back-door key had to do with my not going to meet my brother at Fiume. Well! It has this much to do with it, that you happen to be my tokened wife, that you happen to be of my race and of my blood, a sober, clean-living Jewess, please God, and not one of those frivolous, empty-headed Christian girls--you are that now, I know; if you were not I would kill you first and myself afterwards: therefore, if to-night I catch a thief--any thief, I don't care who he is--sneaking into this house by a back door when you happen to be here alone and seemingly unprotected, if I catch any kind of thief or malefactor, I say . . ." He paused, and she, through teeth that chattered, contrived to murmur: "Well? What do you say? Why don't you go on?" "Because you understand," he said, with calm as sudden and as terrible as his rage had been awhile ago. "I am not a Christian, you know, nor yet a gentleman. I cannot walk up either to my lord's castle or to one of these Christian Magyar peasants and strike him in the face for trying to rob me of that which is more precious to me than life. I am a Jew . . . a low-born, miserable Jew, whose whole race, origin and upbringing are despicable in the sight of the noble lords as well as of the Hungarian peasantry. Just a wretched creature whom one orders to hold one's horse, to brush one's boots, to stand out of one's way, anyhow; but not to meet as man to man, not to fight openly and frankly for the woman whom one loves. Well! You happen to be a Jewess too, and tokened to a Jew, and if either my lord or one of these d----d Magyar peasants chooses to come sneaking round you like a thief in the night, well . . ." He paused, and from the pocket of his shabby trousers he half drew out a long, sheathed hunting-knife, and then quickly hid it again from her sight. Klara smothered a desperate cry of terror. Leopold now turned his back on her; he went up to the table and seizing a carafe of water, he poured himself out a huge mugful and drank it down at a draught. The edge of the mug rattled against his teeth, his hand was trembling so that half the contents were poured down on his clothes. He did not look again on Klara, but having put the mug down, he passed his hand once or twice across his forehead as if to chase away some of those horrible thoughts which were still lurking in his brain. Then he took his cigarette-case out of his pocket, selected a cigarette, struck a match and lit it, still avoiding Klara's fixed and staring gaze. "I'll go and smoke this outside," he said quietly. "I can see both doors from the corner. When you have found that back-door key you may go to Elsa Kapus' wedding feast, but not before." He took a final look round the room, and his eyes, which had once more become dull and pale, rested with an infinite look of contempt upon the two or three besotted drunkards who, throughout this scene, had done no more than open and blink a sleepy eye. "Shall I turn these louts out for you now?" he asked. "No, no," she replied mechanically, "let them have their sleep. When they wake they'll go away all right." Just then the outer door was opened and Lakatos Andor's broad figure appeared upon the threshold. Leopold Hirsch gave him a nod, and without another look on Klara, he strode out into the night. CHAPTER XXI "Jealous, like a madman." "I came to see if B la was still here," said Andor, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold Hirsch. "One or two chaps whom I met awhile ago told me that he had not been seen in the barn this hour past, and that there was a lot of talk about it. I thought that if he were here, I could persuade you . . ." He paused, and looked more keenly at the girl. "What is it, Klara?" he asked; "you seem ill or upset . . ." She closed her eyes once or twice like someone just waking out of a dream, then she passed her hands over her forehead and over her hair. She felt completely dazed and stupid, as if she had received a stunning blow on the head, and while Andor talked she looked at him with staring eyes, not understanding a word that he said. "Yes--yes, Andor?" she said vaguely. "What can I do for you?" "Nothing much, my good Klara," he replied; "it was only about B la . . ." "Yes--about B la," she stammered; "won't . . . won't you sit down?" "Thank you, I will for a moment." She moved forward in order to get him a chair, but she found that she could not stand. The moment that she relinquished the prop of the wall, her knees gave way under her and she lurched forward against the table. She would have fallen had not Andor caught her and guided her to a chair, whereon she sank half fainting, with eyes closed and cheeks and lips the colour of ashes. Just for the moment the wild thought flew through his mind that she had been induced to drink by one of the men, but a closer look on her wan, pale face and into those dilated eyes of hers convinced him that the girl was in real and acute mental distress. He went up to the table and poured out a mug of wine, which he held to her lips. She drank eagerly, looking up at him the while with a strangely pathetic, eagerly appealing gaze. When he had taken the mug from her and replaced it on the table, he drew a chair close to her and said as kindly as he could, for he did not feel very well-disposed toward the girl who was the cause of much unhappiness to Elsa: "Now, Klara, you are going to tell me what is the matter with you." But already she had recovered herself a little, and Lakatos Andor's somewhat dictatorial tone grated upon her sensitive ear. "There's nothing the matter with me," she retorted, with a return of her habitual flippancy. "What should be the matter?" "I don't know," he said dryly; "and, of course, if you tell me that it's a private affair of your own and none of my business, why I'll be quite satisfied, and not ask any more questions. But if it's anything to do with B la . . ." "No, of course not," she broke in impatiently. "What should B la have to do with my affairs? B la has been gone from here this hour past." "And he is not coming back?" asked Andor searchingly. "I trust not," she replied fervently, and the young man noticed that the staring, terror-filled look once more crept into her eyes. "Very well, then," he said, rising, "that is all I wanted to know. I am sorry to have disturbed you. Good-night,

bottles

How many times the word 'bottles' appears in the text?

Fiume in half an hour." "To Fiume?" "Yes. You know he has a brother coming home from America." "I know that." "His ship is due in at Fiume the day after to-morrow. Leopold must start by the same train as your father to-night, in order to catch the express for Fiume at Budapesth to-morrow." "Did he tell you all that?" "I have known all along that he meant to meet his brother at Fiume, and yesterday he said something about it again. So you see, my pretty one, that we can have a comfortable little supper this evening without fear of interruption. We'll have it at ten o'clock, when the supper-party is going on at the barn, eh? We shan't be interrupted then. So give me that duplicate key, will you, and I can slip in quietly through the back door without raising a bit of gossip or scandal. Hurry up now! I shall have to be going." "I can't now," she protested. "Leopold hasn't taken his eyes off me all this time." "Oh! if that is all that is troubling you, my dear," said the young man coolly, "I can easily settle our friend Leopold. Hirsch!" he called loudly. "My lord?" queried the other, with the quick obsequiousness habitual to the down-trodden race. "My horse is kicking up such a row outside. I wish you'd just go and see if the boy is looking after him properly." Of course it was impossible to do anything but obey. My lord had commanded; in the ordinary way the poor Jew shopkeeper would have felt honoured to have been selected for individual recognition. Nor did he do more now than throw one of those swift looks of his--so full of hatred and of menace--upon Klara and the young man; but the latter, having given his orders, no longer condescended to take notice of the Jew and had once more engaged the girl in animated conversation. Had Klara thought of looking up when Leopold finally obeyed my lord's commands and went to look after the horse, she could not have failed to realize the danger which lurked in the young man's pale eyes then. His face, always pale and olive-tinted, was now the colour of ashes, grey and livid and blotched with purple, his lips looked white and quivering, and his eyebrows--of a reddish tinge--met above his nose in a deep, dark scowl. But my lord had thrown out a casual hint about a gold watch, and Klara had no further thought for her jealous admirer. "Now go and fetch the key," said Count Feri, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold. The hint of the gold watch had stirred Klara's pulses. A _t te- -t te_ with my lord was, moreover, greatly to her liking. He could be very amusing when he chose, and was always generous; and Klara's life was often dull and colourless. A pleasant evening spent in his company would compensate her in a measure for her disappointment at not being asked to Elsa's ball, and there was the gold watch to look forward to, above all. Taking an opportunity when her father was absorbed in his game of tarok, she went into the next room and presently returned with a key in her hand, which she surreptitiously gave to my lord. "Splendid!" exclaimed the young man gaily. "Klara, you are a gem, and after supper you shall just ask me for anything you have a fancy for, and I'll give it to you. Now I'd better go. Good-bye, little one. Ten o'clock sharp, eh?" "Ten o'clock," she repeated, under her breath. He strode to the door, outside which he found Leopold waiting for him. "The horse was quite quiet, my lord," said the Jew sullenly; "the boy had never left it for a moment." "Oh! that's all right, Hirsch," rejoined my lord indifferently. "I only wanted to know." Of course he never thought of saying a word of thanks or of excuse to the other man. What would you? A Jew! Bah! not even worth a nod of the head. Count Feri R kosy had quickly mounted his pretty, half-bred Arab mare--a click of the tongue and she was off with him, kicking up a cloud of dust in her wake. But Leopold Hirsch had remained for a moment standing on the doorstep of Ign cz Goldstein's house. He watched horse and rider through that cloud of dust, and along the straight and broad highway, until both had become a mere speck upon the low-lying horizon. "May you break your accursed neck!" he muttered fervently. Then he went back to the tap-room. CHAPTER XX "You happen to be of my race and of my blood." He strode at once to Klara, who greeted him with an ironical little smile and a coquettish look out of her dark eyes. "You never told me that you were going away to-night, my dear Leopold," she said suavely. "Who told you that I was?" he retorted savagely. "It seems to be pretty well known about the place. You seemed to have been talking about it pretty freely that you were going to Fiume to meet your brother when the ship he is on comes in." "I meant to tell you just now, only his lordship's arrival interrupted me," he said more quietly. "And since then you have been busy making a fool of yourself before my lord, eh?" she asked. "Bah!" "And compromising me into the bargain, what? But let me tell you this, my good Leopold, before we go any further, that I am not married to you yet, and that I don't like your airs of proprietorship, _sabe_?" He could not say anything more just then, for customers were departing, and she had to attend to them; he did not try to approach her while she was thus engaged, but presently, when her back was turned, he contrived to work his way across to the door which gave on the inner room, and to push it slightly open with his hand, until he could peep through the aperture and take a quick survey of the room beyond. Klara had not seen this manoeuvre of his, although she had cast more than one rapid and furtive glance upon him while she attended to her customers. She was thankful that he was going away for a few days; in his present mood he was positively dangerous. She had lighted the oil lamp which hung from the centre of the low, raftered ceiling, the hour was getting late, customers were all leaving now one by one. Er s B la was one of the last to go. He had drunk rather more silvorium than was good for him. He knew quite well that by absenting himself from the pre-nuptial festivals he had behaved in a disgraceful and unjustifiable manner which would surely be resented throughout the village, and though he was quite sure that he did not care one brass fill r what all those ignorant peasants thought of him, yet he felt it incumbent upon him to brace up his courage now, before meeting the hostile fusillade of eyes which would be sure to greet him on his return to the barn. He meant to put in a short appearance there, and then to finish his evening here in Klara's company. He felt that his dignity demanded that he should absent himself at any rate from the supper, seeing that Elsa had so grossly defied him. "At ten o'clock I'll be back, Klara," he whispered, in the girl's ear, as he was about to take his departure along with some of his friends, who also intended to go on to the dance in the barn. "Indeed you won't," she retorted decisively, "I have no use for you, my good B la. You are almost a married man now, remember!" she added with a laugh. "I'll bring those bottles of champagne," he urged; "don't be hard on me, Klara. I'll give you a good time to-night, and a nice present into the bargain." "And ruin my reputation for ever, eh? By walking into the tap-room when it's full of people and carrying two bottles of champagne under your arm--or staying on ostentatiously after everyone has gone and for everyone to gossip. No, thank you; I've already told you that I am not going to lend myself to your little games of vengeance. It isn't me you want, it's petty revenge upon Elsa. To that I say no, thank you, my good man." "Klara!" he pleaded. "No!" she said, and unceremoniously turned her back on him. He went off, sullen and morose, and not a little chaffed for his moroseness by his friends. The tap-room was almost deserted for the moment. In one or two corners only a few stragglers lingered; they were sprawling across the tables with arms outstretched. Ign cz Goldstein's silvorium had proved too potent and too plentiful. They lay there in a drunken sleep--logs that were of no account. Presently they would have to be thrown out, but there was no hurry for that--they were not in the way. Ign cz Goldstein had gone into the next room. Klara was busy tidying up the place; Leopold approached her with well-feigned contrition and humility. "I am sorry, Klara," he said. "I seemed to have had the knack to-night of constantly annoying you. So I'd best begone now, perhaps." "I bear no malice, Leo," she said quietly. "I thought I'd come back at about nine o'clock," he continued. "It is nearly eight now." She, thinking that he had his own journey in mind, remarked casually: "You'd best be here well before nine. The train leaves at nine-twenty, and father walks very slowly." "I won't be late," he said. "Best give me the key of the back door. I'll let myself in that way." "No occasion to do that," she retorted. "The front door will be open. You can come in that way like everybody else." "It's just a fancy," he said quietly; "there might be a lot of people about just then. I don't want to come through here. I thought I'd just slip in the back way as I often do. So give me the key, Klara, will you?" "How can I give you the key of the back door?" she said, equally quietly; "you know father always carries it in his coat pocket." "But there is a second key," he remarked, "which hangs on a nail by your father's bedside in the next room. Give me that one, Klara." "I shan't," she retorted. "I never heard such nonsense! As if I could allow you to use the private door of this house just as it suits your fancy. If you want to come in to-night and say good-bye, you must come in by the front door." "It's just a whim of mine, Klara," urged Leopold, now still speaking quietly--almost under his breath--but there was an ominous tremor in his voice and sudden sharp gleams in his eyes which the girl had already noted and which caused the blood to rush back to her heart, leaving her cheeks pale and her lips trembling. "Nonsense!" she contrived to say, with an indifferent shrug of the shoulders. "Just a whim," he reiterated. "So I'll take the key, by your leave." He turned to the door of the inner room and pushed it open, just as he had done awhile ago, and now--as then--he cast a rapid glance round the room. Klara, through half-closed lids, watched his every movement. "Why!" he exclaimed, turning back to her, and with a look of well-feigned surprise, "the key is not in its place." "I know it isn't," she retorted curtly. "Then where is it?" "I have put it away." "When? It was hanging on its usual nail when I first came here this afternoon. I remember the door being open, and my glancing into the room casually. I am sure it was there then." "It may have been: but I put it away after that." "Why should you have done that?" "I don't know, and, anyhow, it's no business of yours, is it?" "Give me that back-door key, Klara," insisted the young man, in a tone of savage command. "No!" she replied, slowly and decisively. There was silence in the little, low raftered room after that, a silence only broken by the buzzing of flies against the white globe of the lamp, and by the snores of the sleepers who sprawled across the tables. Leopold Hirsch had drawn in his breath with a low, hissing sound; his face, by the yellow light of the lamp, looked ghastly in colour, and his hands were twitching convulsively as the trembling fingers clenched and opened with a monotonous, jerky movement of attempted self-control. Klara had not failed to notice these symptoms of an agony of mind which the young man was so vainly trying to hide from her. For the moment she almost felt sorry for him--sorry and slightly remorseful. After all, Leo's frame of mind, the agony which he endured, came from the strength of his love for her. Neither Er s B la, nor the young Count, nor the many admirers who had hung round her in the past until such time as their fancy found more permanent anchorage elsewhere, would have suffered tortures of soul and of heart because she had indulged in a mild flirtation with a rival. Er s B la would have stormed and cursed, the young Count would have laid his riding-whip across the shoulders of his successful rival and there would have been an end of the matter. Leopold Hirsch would go down to hell and endure the torments of the damned, then return to heaven at a smile from her, and go back to hell again and glory in his misery. But just now she was frightened of him; he looked almost like a living corpse; the skin on his face was drawn so tightly over the bones that it gave him the appearance of a skull with hollow eyes and wide, grinning mouth. Outside an owl hooted dismally. Klara gave a slight shiver of fear and looked furtively round her to see if any of the drunkards were awake. Then she recollected that her father was in the next room, and presently, from afar, came shouts of laughter and the sound of music. She woke as from a nightmare, gave her fine shoulders a little shake, and looked boldly into her jealous lover's face. "By the Lord, Leo!" she said, with a little forced laugh, "you have given me the creeps, looking as you do. How dare you frighten me like that? With your clenched hands, too, as if you wanted to murder me. There, now, don't be such a silly fool. You have got a long journey before you; it's no use making yourself sick with jealousy just before you go." "I am not going on a journey," he said, in a toneless, even voice, which seemed to come from a grave. "Not going?" she said, with a frown of puzzlement. "You were going to Fiume to meet your brother, don't you remember? The ship he is on is due in the day after to-morrow. If you don't start to-night you won't be able to catch the express at Budapesth to-morrow." "I know all that," he said, in the same dull, monotonous tone; "I am not going, that's all." "But . . ." "I have changed my mind. Your father is going away. I must watch over you to see that no one molests you. Thieves might want to break in . . . one never knows . . . anyhow, my brother can look after himself . . . I stay to look after you." For a moment or two she stood quite still, her senses strained to grasp the meaning, the purport of the present situation--this madman on the watch outside--the young Count, key in hand, swaggering up to the back door at ten o'clock, when most folk would be at supper in the barn, her father gone, the village street wrapped in darkness! Leopold, by a violent and sudden effort, had regained mastery over the muscles of his face and hands, these no longer twitched now, and he answered her look of mute inquiry with one of well-feigned quietude. Only his breath he could not control, it passed through his throat with a stertorous sound, and every now and then he had to pass his tongue over his dry, cracked lips. Thus they stood for a moment eye to eye; and what she read in his glance caused a nameless fear to strike at her heart and to paralyse her will. But the next instant she had recovered her presence of mind. With quick, febrile movements she had already taken off her apron and with her hands smoothed her unruly dark hair. Then she made for the door. Less than a second and already he had guessed her purpose: before she could reach the door he had his back against it and his nervy fingers had grasped her wrist. "Where are you going?" "Out," she said curtly. "What for?" "That's none of your business." "What for?" he reiterated hoarsely. "Let go my wrist," she exclaimed, "you are hurting me." "I'll hurt you worse," he cried, in a broken voice, "if you cross this threshold to-night." But he released her wrist, and she, wrathful, indignant, terrified, retreated to the other end of the room. "Go out by the back door," he sneered, "if you want to go out. You have the key, haven't you?" "My father . . ." she began. "Yes!" he said. "Go and tell your father that I, Leopold Hirsch, your affianced husband, am browbeating you--making a scene, what?--because you have made an assignation with my lord the young Count, here--at night--under your father's roof--under the roof of a child of Israel! You! An assignation with a dirty Christian! . . . Bah! Go and tell your father that! And he will thrash you to within an inch of your life! We are Jews, he and I, and hold the honour of our women sacred--more sacred than their life!" "Don't be a fool, Leopold," she cried, feeling that indeed, between her father and this madman, her life had ceased to be safe. She looked round her helplessly. Three or four besotted fools lying helpless across the tables, and all the village dancing and making merry some two hundred m tres away, her father--implacable, as she well knew, where her conduct was concerned--and this madman ready to kill to satisfy his lust of vengeance and of hate--she felt that indeed, unless Heaven performed a miracle, here was the beginning of an awful, an irredeemable tragedy. "Leopold, don't be a fool," she reiterated, trying with all her might not to appear frightened or scared or confused. "I have promised Kapus Elsa to go to her dance for half an hour. I had forgotten all about it. I must go now." "Go and change your dress, then," he retorted with a sneer, "then you can go out by the back way. You have put the key away somewhere, haven't you? You know where it is." "You are mad about doors to-night. I tell you I am going out now, by that front door--at once." "And I tell you," he said, slowly and deliberately, "that if you cross the front door step I will call your father and tell him that you go and meet your lover--a Christian lover--the young Count--who would as soon think of marrying you as he would a nigger or a kitchen slut. Before you will have reached the high road your father and I will be on your heels, and either he or I will strangle you ere you come within sight of my lord's castle." "You are mad!" she cried. "Or else an idiot." "Better look for that back-door key," he retorted. "What has the back-door key to do with it?" she asked sullenly. "Only this," he replied, "that while that monkey-faced dog of a Christian was whispering to you just now, I know that the key was hanging on its usual peg, but I heard something about 'supper' and about 'ten o'clock.' May he break his neck, I say, and save me the job. Then he ordered me out of the room. Oh! I guessed! I am no fool, you know! When I came back I looked into your father's room--the key was gone, and I knew. And what I say is, why can't he come in by the front door like a man, if he has nothing to hide? Why must you let him come in like a thief by a back-door, if you have nothing to be ashamed of? The tap-room is open to anybody. Anybody can walk in and get a drink if they want to. Then why this whispering and this sneaking?" He was working himself up to a greater and ever greater passion of fury. He kept his voice low because he didn't want Ign cz Goldstein to hear--not just yet, at any rate--for Ign cz was a hard man and a stern father, and God only knew what he might not do if he was roused. Leopold did not want Klara hurt--not yet, at any rate--not until he was quite sure that she meant to play him altogether false. She was vain and frivolous, over-fond of dress and of queening it over the peasant girls of the village, but there was no real harm in her. She was immensely flattered by the young Count's attentions and over-ready to accept his presents in exchange for kisses and whisperings behind closed doors, but there was no real harm in her--so at least Leopold Hirsch kept repeating to himself time and again, whenever jealousy gnawed at his heart more roughly than he could endure. Just now that torment was almost unbearable, and the passion of fury into which he had worked himself blinded him momentarily to the dull, aching pain. Klara, as he spoke thus hoarsely, and brought his contorted face closer and closer to hers, had gradually shrunk more and more into the corner of the room, and there she remained now, flattened against the wall, her wide-open, terror-filled eyes fixed staringly upon this raving madman. "You asked just now," he continued, in the same hoarse, guttural whisper, which seemed literally to be racking and tearing his throat as it came, "what the back-door key had to do with my not going to meet my brother at Fiume. Well! It has this much to do with it, that you happen to be my tokened wife, that you happen to be of my race and of my blood, a sober, clean-living Jewess, please God, and not one of those frivolous, empty-headed Christian girls--you are that now, I know; if you were not I would kill you first and myself afterwards: therefore, if to-night I catch a thief--any thief, I don't care who he is--sneaking into this house by a back door when you happen to be here alone and seemingly unprotected, if I catch any kind of thief or malefactor, I say . . ." He paused, and she, through teeth that chattered, contrived to murmur: "Well? What do you say? Why don't you go on?" "Because you understand," he said, with calm as sudden and as terrible as his rage had been awhile ago. "I am not a Christian, you know, nor yet a gentleman. I cannot walk up either to my lord's castle or to one of these Christian Magyar peasants and strike him in the face for trying to rob me of that which is more precious to me than life. I am a Jew . . . a low-born, miserable Jew, whose whole race, origin and upbringing are despicable in the sight of the noble lords as well as of the Hungarian peasantry. Just a wretched creature whom one orders to hold one's horse, to brush one's boots, to stand out of one's way, anyhow; but not to meet as man to man, not to fight openly and frankly for the woman whom one loves. Well! You happen to be a Jewess too, and tokened to a Jew, and if either my lord or one of these d----d Magyar peasants chooses to come sneaking round you like a thief in the night, well . . ." He paused, and from the pocket of his shabby trousers he half drew out a long, sheathed hunting-knife, and then quickly hid it again from her sight. Klara smothered a desperate cry of terror. Leopold now turned his back on her; he went up to the table and seizing a carafe of water, he poured himself out a huge mugful and drank it down at a draught. The edge of the mug rattled against his teeth, his hand was trembling so that half the contents were poured down on his clothes. He did not look again on Klara, but having put the mug down, he passed his hand once or twice across his forehead as if to chase away some of those horrible thoughts which were still lurking in his brain. Then he took his cigarette-case out of his pocket, selected a cigarette, struck a match and lit it, still avoiding Klara's fixed and staring gaze. "I'll go and smoke this outside," he said quietly. "I can see both doors from the corner. When you have found that back-door key you may go to Elsa Kapus' wedding feast, but not before." He took a final look round the room, and his eyes, which had once more become dull and pale, rested with an infinite look of contempt upon the two or three besotted drunkards who, throughout this scene, had done no more than open and blink a sleepy eye. "Shall I turn these louts out for you now?" he asked. "No, no," she replied mechanically, "let them have their sleep. When they wake they'll go away all right." Just then the outer door was opened and Lakatos Andor's broad figure appeared upon the threshold. Leopold Hirsch gave him a nod, and without another look on Klara, he strode out into the night. CHAPTER XXI "Jealous, like a madman." "I came to see if B la was still here," said Andor, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold Hirsch. "One or two chaps whom I met awhile ago told me that he had not been seen in the barn this hour past, and that there was a lot of talk about it. I thought that if he were here, I could persuade you . . ." He paused, and looked more keenly at the girl. "What is it, Klara?" he asked; "you seem ill or upset . . ." She closed her eyes once or twice like someone just waking out of a dream, then she passed her hands over her forehead and over her hair. She felt completely dazed and stupid, as if she had received a stunning blow on the head, and while Andor talked she looked at him with staring eyes, not understanding a word that he said. "Yes--yes, Andor?" she said vaguely. "What can I do for you?" "Nothing much, my good Klara," he replied; "it was only about B la . . ." "Yes--about B la," she stammered; "won't . . . won't you sit down?" "Thank you, I will for a moment." She moved forward in order to get him a chair, but she found that she could not stand. The moment that she relinquished the prop of the wall, her knees gave way under her and she lurched forward against the table. She would have fallen had not Andor caught her and guided her to a chair, whereon she sank half fainting, with eyes closed and cheeks and lips the colour of ashes. Just for the moment the wild thought flew through his mind that she had been induced to drink by one of the men, but a closer look on her wan, pale face and into those dilated eyes of hers convinced him that the girl was in real and acute mental distress. He went up to the table and poured out a mug of wine, which he held to her lips. She drank eagerly, looking up at him the while with a strangely pathetic, eagerly appealing gaze. When he had taken the mug from her and replaced it on the table, he drew a chair close to her and said as kindly as he could, for he did not feel very well-disposed toward the girl who was the cause of much unhappiness to Elsa: "Now, Klara, you are going to tell me what is the matter with you." But already she had recovered herself a little, and Lakatos Andor's somewhat dictatorial tone grated upon her sensitive ear. "There's nothing the matter with me," she retorted, with a return of her habitual flippancy. "What should be the matter?" "I don't know," he said dryly; "and, of course, if you tell me that it's a private affair of your own and none of my business, why I'll be quite satisfied, and not ask any more questions. But if it's anything to do with B la . . ." "No, of course not," she broke in impatiently. "What should B la have to do with my affairs? B la has been gone from here this hour past." "And he is not coming back?" asked Andor searchingly. "I trust not," she replied fervently, and the young man noticed that the staring, terror-filled look once more crept into her eyes. "Very well, then," he said, rising, "that is all I wanted to know. I am sorry to have disturbed you. Good-night,

lover

How many times the word 'lover' appears in the text?

Fiume in half an hour." "To Fiume?" "Yes. You know he has a brother coming home from America." "I know that." "His ship is due in at Fiume the day after to-morrow. Leopold must start by the same train as your father to-night, in order to catch the express for Fiume at Budapesth to-morrow." "Did he tell you all that?" "I have known all along that he meant to meet his brother at Fiume, and yesterday he said something about it again. So you see, my pretty one, that we can have a comfortable little supper this evening without fear of interruption. We'll have it at ten o'clock, when the supper-party is going on at the barn, eh? We shan't be interrupted then. So give me that duplicate key, will you, and I can slip in quietly through the back door without raising a bit of gossip or scandal. Hurry up now! I shall have to be going." "I can't now," she protested. "Leopold hasn't taken his eyes off me all this time." "Oh! if that is all that is troubling you, my dear," said the young man coolly, "I can easily settle our friend Leopold. Hirsch!" he called loudly. "My lord?" queried the other, with the quick obsequiousness habitual to the down-trodden race. "My horse is kicking up such a row outside. I wish you'd just go and see if the boy is looking after him properly." Of course it was impossible to do anything but obey. My lord had commanded; in the ordinary way the poor Jew shopkeeper would have felt honoured to have been selected for individual recognition. Nor did he do more now than throw one of those swift looks of his--so full of hatred and of menace--upon Klara and the young man; but the latter, having given his orders, no longer condescended to take notice of the Jew and had once more engaged the girl in animated conversation. Had Klara thought of looking up when Leopold finally obeyed my lord's commands and went to look after the horse, she could not have failed to realize the danger which lurked in the young man's pale eyes then. His face, always pale and olive-tinted, was now the colour of ashes, grey and livid and blotched with purple, his lips looked white and quivering, and his eyebrows--of a reddish tinge--met above his nose in a deep, dark scowl. But my lord had thrown out a casual hint about a gold watch, and Klara had no further thought for her jealous admirer. "Now go and fetch the key," said Count Feri, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold. The hint of the gold watch had stirred Klara's pulses. A _t te- -t te_ with my lord was, moreover, greatly to her liking. He could be very amusing when he chose, and was always generous; and Klara's life was often dull and colourless. A pleasant evening spent in his company would compensate her in a measure for her disappointment at not being asked to Elsa's ball, and there was the gold watch to look forward to, above all. Taking an opportunity when her father was absorbed in his game of tarok, she went into the next room and presently returned with a key in her hand, which she surreptitiously gave to my lord. "Splendid!" exclaimed the young man gaily. "Klara, you are a gem, and after supper you shall just ask me for anything you have a fancy for, and I'll give it to you. Now I'd better go. Good-bye, little one. Ten o'clock sharp, eh?" "Ten o'clock," she repeated, under her breath. He strode to the door, outside which he found Leopold waiting for him. "The horse was quite quiet, my lord," said the Jew sullenly; "the boy had never left it for a moment." "Oh! that's all right, Hirsch," rejoined my lord indifferently. "I only wanted to know." Of course he never thought of saying a word of thanks or of excuse to the other man. What would you? A Jew! Bah! not even worth a nod of the head. Count Feri R kosy had quickly mounted his pretty, half-bred Arab mare--a click of the tongue and she was off with him, kicking up a cloud of dust in her wake. But Leopold Hirsch had remained for a moment standing on the doorstep of Ign cz Goldstein's house. He watched horse and rider through that cloud of dust, and along the straight and broad highway, until both had become a mere speck upon the low-lying horizon. "May you break your accursed neck!" he muttered fervently. Then he went back to the tap-room. CHAPTER XX "You happen to be of my race and of my blood." He strode at once to Klara, who greeted him with an ironical little smile and a coquettish look out of her dark eyes. "You never told me that you were going away to-night, my dear Leopold," she said suavely. "Who told you that I was?" he retorted savagely. "It seems to be pretty well known about the place. You seemed to have been talking about it pretty freely that you were going to Fiume to meet your brother when the ship he is on comes in." "I meant to tell you just now, only his lordship's arrival interrupted me," he said more quietly. "And since then you have been busy making a fool of yourself before my lord, eh?" she asked. "Bah!" "And compromising me into the bargain, what? But let me tell you this, my good Leopold, before we go any further, that I am not married to you yet, and that I don't like your airs of proprietorship, _sabe_?" He could not say anything more just then, for customers were departing, and she had to attend to them; he did not try to approach her while she was thus engaged, but presently, when her back was turned, he contrived to work his way across to the door which gave on the inner room, and to push it slightly open with his hand, until he could peep through the aperture and take a quick survey of the room beyond. Klara had not seen this manoeuvre of his, although she had cast more than one rapid and furtive glance upon him while she attended to her customers. She was thankful that he was going away for a few days; in his present mood he was positively dangerous. She had lighted the oil lamp which hung from the centre of the low, raftered ceiling, the hour was getting late, customers were all leaving now one by one. Er s B la was one of the last to go. He had drunk rather more silvorium than was good for him. He knew quite well that by absenting himself from the pre-nuptial festivals he had behaved in a disgraceful and unjustifiable manner which would surely be resented throughout the village, and though he was quite sure that he did not care one brass fill r what all those ignorant peasants thought of him, yet he felt it incumbent upon him to brace up his courage now, before meeting the hostile fusillade of eyes which would be sure to greet him on his return to the barn. He meant to put in a short appearance there, and then to finish his evening here in Klara's company. He felt that his dignity demanded that he should absent himself at any rate from the supper, seeing that Elsa had so grossly defied him. "At ten o'clock I'll be back, Klara," he whispered, in the girl's ear, as he was about to take his departure along with some of his friends, who also intended to go on to the dance in the barn. "Indeed you won't," she retorted decisively, "I have no use for you, my good B la. You are almost a married man now, remember!" she added with a laugh. "I'll bring those bottles of champagne," he urged; "don't be hard on me, Klara. I'll give you a good time to-night, and a nice present into the bargain." "And ruin my reputation for ever, eh? By walking into the tap-room when it's full of people and carrying two bottles of champagne under your arm--or staying on ostentatiously after everyone has gone and for everyone to gossip. No, thank you; I've already told you that I am not going to lend myself to your little games of vengeance. It isn't me you want, it's petty revenge upon Elsa. To that I say no, thank you, my good man." "Klara!" he pleaded. "No!" she said, and unceremoniously turned her back on him. He went off, sullen and morose, and not a little chaffed for his moroseness by his friends. The tap-room was almost deserted for the moment. In one or two corners only a few stragglers lingered; they were sprawling across the tables with arms outstretched. Ign cz Goldstein's silvorium had proved too potent and too plentiful. They lay there in a drunken sleep--logs that were of no account. Presently they would have to be thrown out, but there was no hurry for that--they were not in the way. Ign cz Goldstein had gone into the next room. Klara was busy tidying up the place; Leopold approached her with well-feigned contrition and humility. "I am sorry, Klara," he said. "I seemed to have had the knack to-night of constantly annoying you. So I'd best begone now, perhaps." "I bear no malice, Leo," she said quietly. "I thought I'd come back at about nine o'clock," he continued. "It is nearly eight now." She, thinking that he had his own journey in mind, remarked casually: "You'd best be here well before nine. The train leaves at nine-twenty, and father walks very slowly." "I won't be late," he said. "Best give me the key of the back door. I'll let myself in that way." "No occasion to do that," she retorted. "The front door will be open. You can come in that way like everybody else." "It's just a fancy," he said quietly; "there might be a lot of people about just then. I don't want to come through here. I thought I'd just slip in the back way as I often do. So give me the key, Klara, will you?" "How can I give you the key of the back door?" she said, equally quietly; "you know father always carries it in his coat pocket." "But there is a second key," he remarked, "which hangs on a nail by your father's bedside in the next room. Give me that one, Klara." "I shan't," she retorted. "I never heard such nonsense! As if I could allow you to use the private door of this house just as it suits your fancy. If you want to come in to-night and say good-bye, you must come in by the front door." "It's just a whim of mine, Klara," urged Leopold, now still speaking quietly--almost under his breath--but there was an ominous tremor in his voice and sudden sharp gleams in his eyes which the girl had already noted and which caused the blood to rush back to her heart, leaving her cheeks pale and her lips trembling. "Nonsense!" she contrived to say, with an indifferent shrug of the shoulders. "Just a whim," he reiterated. "So I'll take the key, by your leave." He turned to the door of the inner room and pushed it open, just as he had done awhile ago, and now--as then--he cast a rapid glance round the room. Klara, through half-closed lids, watched his every movement. "Why!" he exclaimed, turning back to her, and with a look of well-feigned surprise, "the key is not in its place." "I know it isn't," she retorted curtly. "Then where is it?" "I have put it away." "When? It was hanging on its usual nail when I first came here this afternoon. I remember the door being open, and my glancing into the room casually. I am sure it was there then." "It may have been: but I put it away after that." "Why should you have done that?" "I don't know, and, anyhow, it's no business of yours, is it?" "Give me that back-door key, Klara," insisted the young man, in a tone of savage command. "No!" she replied, slowly and decisively. There was silence in the little, low raftered room after that, a silence only broken by the buzzing of flies against the white globe of the lamp, and by the snores of the sleepers who sprawled across the tables. Leopold Hirsch had drawn in his breath with a low, hissing sound; his face, by the yellow light of the lamp, looked ghastly in colour, and his hands were twitching convulsively as the trembling fingers clenched and opened with a monotonous, jerky movement of attempted self-control. Klara had not failed to notice these symptoms of an agony of mind which the young man was so vainly trying to hide from her. For the moment she almost felt sorry for him--sorry and slightly remorseful. After all, Leo's frame of mind, the agony which he endured, came from the strength of his love for her. Neither Er s B la, nor the young Count, nor the many admirers who had hung round her in the past until such time as their fancy found more permanent anchorage elsewhere, would have suffered tortures of soul and of heart because she had indulged in a mild flirtation with a rival. Er s B la would have stormed and cursed, the young Count would have laid his riding-whip across the shoulders of his successful rival and there would have been an end of the matter. Leopold Hirsch would go down to hell and endure the torments of the damned, then return to heaven at a smile from her, and go back to hell again and glory in his misery. But just now she was frightened of him; he looked almost like a living corpse; the skin on his face was drawn so tightly over the bones that it gave him the appearance of a skull with hollow eyes and wide, grinning mouth. Outside an owl hooted dismally. Klara gave a slight shiver of fear and looked furtively round her to see if any of the drunkards were awake. Then she recollected that her father was in the next room, and presently, from afar, came shouts of laughter and the sound of music. She woke as from a nightmare, gave her fine shoulders a little shake, and looked boldly into her jealous lover's face. "By the Lord, Leo!" she said, with a little forced laugh, "you have given me the creeps, looking as you do. How dare you frighten me like that? With your clenched hands, too, as if you wanted to murder me. There, now, don't be such a silly fool. You have got a long journey before you; it's no use making yourself sick with jealousy just before you go." "I am not going on a journey," he said, in a toneless, even voice, which seemed to come from a grave. "Not going?" she said, with a frown of puzzlement. "You were going to Fiume to meet your brother, don't you remember? The ship he is on is due in the day after to-morrow. If you don't start to-night you won't be able to catch the express at Budapesth to-morrow." "I know all that," he said, in the same dull, monotonous tone; "I am not going, that's all." "But . . ." "I have changed my mind. Your father is going away. I must watch over you to see that no one molests you. Thieves might want to break in . . . one never knows . . . anyhow, my brother can look after himself . . . I stay to look after you." For a moment or two she stood quite still, her senses strained to grasp the meaning, the purport of the present situation--this madman on the watch outside--the young Count, key in hand, swaggering up to the back door at ten o'clock, when most folk would be at supper in the barn, her father gone, the village street wrapped in darkness! Leopold, by a violent and sudden effort, had regained mastery over the muscles of his face and hands, these no longer twitched now, and he answered her look of mute inquiry with one of well-feigned quietude. Only his breath he could not control, it passed through his throat with a stertorous sound, and every now and then he had to pass his tongue over his dry, cracked lips. Thus they stood for a moment eye to eye; and what she read in his glance caused a nameless fear to strike at her heart and to paralyse her will. But the next instant she had recovered her presence of mind. With quick, febrile movements she had already taken off her apron and with her hands smoothed her unruly dark hair. Then she made for the door. Less than a second and already he had guessed her purpose: before she could reach the door he had his back against it and his nervy fingers had grasped her wrist. "Where are you going?" "Out," she said curtly. "What for?" "That's none of your business." "What for?" he reiterated hoarsely. "Let go my wrist," she exclaimed, "you are hurting me." "I'll hurt you worse," he cried, in a broken voice, "if you cross this threshold to-night." But he released her wrist, and she, wrathful, indignant, terrified, retreated to the other end of the room. "Go out by the back door," he sneered, "if you want to go out. You have the key, haven't you?" "My father . . ." she began. "Yes!" he said. "Go and tell your father that I, Leopold Hirsch, your affianced husband, am browbeating you--making a scene, what?--because you have made an assignation with my lord the young Count, here--at night--under your father's roof--under the roof of a child of Israel! You! An assignation with a dirty Christian! . . . Bah! Go and tell your father that! And he will thrash you to within an inch of your life! We are Jews, he and I, and hold the honour of our women sacred--more sacred than their life!" "Don't be a fool, Leopold," she cried, feeling that indeed, between her father and this madman, her life had ceased to be safe. She looked round her helplessly. Three or four besotted fools lying helpless across the tables, and all the village dancing and making merry some two hundred m tres away, her father--implacable, as she well knew, where her conduct was concerned--and this madman ready to kill to satisfy his lust of vengeance and of hate--she felt that indeed, unless Heaven performed a miracle, here was the beginning of an awful, an irredeemable tragedy. "Leopold, don't be a fool," she reiterated, trying with all her might not to appear frightened or scared or confused. "I have promised Kapus Elsa to go to her dance for half an hour. I had forgotten all about it. I must go now." "Go and change your dress, then," he retorted with a sneer, "then you can go out by the back way. You have put the key away somewhere, haven't you? You know where it is." "You are mad about doors to-night. I tell you I am going out now, by that front door--at once." "And I tell you," he said, slowly and deliberately, "that if you cross the front door step I will call your father and tell him that you go and meet your lover--a Christian lover--the young Count--who would as soon think of marrying you as he would a nigger or a kitchen slut. Before you will have reached the high road your father and I will be on your heels, and either he or I will strangle you ere you come within sight of my lord's castle." "You are mad!" she cried. "Or else an idiot." "Better look for that back-door key," he retorted. "What has the back-door key to do with it?" she asked sullenly. "Only this," he replied, "that while that monkey-faced dog of a Christian was whispering to you just now, I know that the key was hanging on its usual peg, but I heard something about 'supper' and about 'ten o'clock.' May he break his neck, I say, and save me the job. Then he ordered me out of the room. Oh! I guessed! I am no fool, you know! When I came back I looked into your father's room--the key was gone, and I knew. And what I say is, why can't he come in by the front door like a man, if he has nothing to hide? Why must you let him come in like a thief by a back-door, if you have nothing to be ashamed of? The tap-room is open to anybody. Anybody can walk in and get a drink if they want to. Then why this whispering and this sneaking?" He was working himself up to a greater and ever greater passion of fury. He kept his voice low because he didn't want Ign cz Goldstein to hear--not just yet, at any rate--for Ign cz was a hard man and a stern father, and God only knew what he might not do if he was roused. Leopold did not want Klara hurt--not yet, at any rate--not until he was quite sure that she meant to play him altogether false. She was vain and frivolous, over-fond of dress and of queening it over the peasant girls of the village, but there was no real harm in her. She was immensely flattered by the young Count's attentions and over-ready to accept his presents in exchange for kisses and whisperings behind closed doors, but there was no real harm in her--so at least Leopold Hirsch kept repeating to himself time and again, whenever jealousy gnawed at his heart more roughly than he could endure. Just now that torment was almost unbearable, and the passion of fury into which he had worked himself blinded him momentarily to the dull, aching pain. Klara, as he spoke thus hoarsely, and brought his contorted face closer and closer to hers, had gradually shrunk more and more into the corner of the room, and there she remained now, flattened against the wall, her wide-open, terror-filled eyes fixed staringly upon this raving madman. "You asked just now," he continued, in the same hoarse, guttural whisper, which seemed literally to be racking and tearing his throat as it came, "what the back-door key had to do with my not going to meet my brother at Fiume. Well! It has this much to do with it, that you happen to be my tokened wife, that you happen to be of my race and of my blood, a sober, clean-living Jewess, please God, and not one of those frivolous, empty-headed Christian girls--you are that now, I know; if you were not I would kill you first and myself afterwards: therefore, if to-night I catch a thief--any thief, I don't care who he is--sneaking into this house by a back door when you happen to be here alone and seemingly unprotected, if I catch any kind of thief or malefactor, I say . . ." He paused, and she, through teeth that chattered, contrived to murmur: "Well? What do you say? Why don't you go on?" "Because you understand," he said, with calm as sudden and as terrible as his rage had been awhile ago. "I am not a Christian, you know, nor yet a gentleman. I cannot walk up either to my lord's castle or to one of these Christian Magyar peasants and strike him in the face for trying to rob me of that which is more precious to me than life. I am a Jew . . . a low-born, miserable Jew, whose whole race, origin and upbringing are despicable in the sight of the noble lords as well as of the Hungarian peasantry. Just a wretched creature whom one orders to hold one's horse, to brush one's boots, to stand out of one's way, anyhow; but not to meet as man to man, not to fight openly and frankly for the woman whom one loves. Well! You happen to be a Jewess too, and tokened to a Jew, and if either my lord or one of these d----d Magyar peasants chooses to come sneaking round you like a thief in the night, well . . ." He paused, and from the pocket of his shabby trousers he half drew out a long, sheathed hunting-knife, and then quickly hid it again from her sight. Klara smothered a desperate cry of terror. Leopold now turned his back on her; he went up to the table and seizing a carafe of water, he poured himself out a huge mugful and drank it down at a draught. The edge of the mug rattled against his teeth, his hand was trembling so that half the contents were poured down on his clothes. He did not look again on Klara, but having put the mug down, he passed his hand once or twice across his forehead as if to chase away some of those horrible thoughts which were still lurking in his brain. Then he took his cigarette-case out of his pocket, selected a cigarette, struck a match and lit it, still avoiding Klara's fixed and staring gaze. "I'll go and smoke this outside," he said quietly. "I can see both doors from the corner. When you have found that back-door key you may go to Elsa Kapus' wedding feast, but not before." He took a final look round the room, and his eyes, which had once more become dull and pale, rested with an infinite look of contempt upon the two or three besotted drunkards who, throughout this scene, had done no more than open and blink a sleepy eye. "Shall I turn these louts out for you now?" he asked. "No, no," she replied mechanically, "let them have their sleep. When they wake they'll go away all right." Just then the outer door was opened and Lakatos Andor's broad figure appeared upon the threshold. Leopold Hirsch gave him a nod, and without another look on Klara, he strode out into the night. CHAPTER XXI "Jealous, like a madman." "I came to see if B la was still here," said Andor, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold Hirsch. "One or two chaps whom I met awhile ago told me that he had not been seen in the barn this hour past, and that there was a lot of talk about it. I thought that if he were here, I could persuade you . . ." He paused, and looked more keenly at the girl. "What is it, Klara?" he asked; "you seem ill or upset . . ." She closed her eyes once or twice like someone just waking out of a dream, then she passed her hands over her forehead and over her hair. She felt completely dazed and stupid, as if she had received a stunning blow on the head, and while Andor talked she looked at him with staring eyes, not understanding a word that he said. "Yes--yes, Andor?" she said vaguely. "What can I do for you?" "Nothing much, my good Klara," he replied; "it was only about B la . . ." "Yes--about B la," she stammered; "won't . . . won't you sit down?" "Thank you, I will for a moment." She moved forward in order to get him a chair, but she found that she could not stand. The moment that she relinquished the prop of the wall, her knees gave way under her and she lurched forward against the table. She would have fallen had not Andor caught her and guided her to a chair, whereon she sank half fainting, with eyes closed and cheeks and lips the colour of ashes. Just for the moment the wild thought flew through his mind that she had been induced to drink by one of the men, but a closer look on her wan, pale face and into those dilated eyes of hers convinced him that the girl was in real and acute mental distress. He went up to the table and poured out a mug of wine, which he held to her lips. She drank eagerly, looking up at him the while with a strangely pathetic, eagerly appealing gaze. When he had taken the mug from her and replaced it on the table, he drew a chair close to her and said as kindly as he could, for he did not feel very well-disposed toward the girl who was the cause of much unhappiness to Elsa: "Now, Klara, you are going to tell me what is the matter with you." But already she had recovered herself a little, and Lakatos Andor's somewhat dictatorial tone grated upon her sensitive ear. "There's nothing the matter with me," she retorted, with a return of her habitual flippancy. "What should be the matter?" "I don't know," he said dryly; "and, of course, if you tell me that it's a private affair of your own and none of my business, why I'll be quite satisfied, and not ask any more questions. But if it's anything to do with B la . . ." "No, of course not," she broke in impatiently. "What should B la have to do with my affairs? B la has been gone from here this hour past." "And he is not coming back?" asked Andor searchingly. "I trust not," she replied fervently, and the young man noticed that the staring, terror-filled look once more crept into her eyes. "Very well, then," he said, rising, "that is all I wanted to know. I am sorry to have disturbed you. Good-night,

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Fiume in half an hour." "To Fiume?" "Yes. You know he has a brother coming home from America." "I know that." "His ship is due in at Fiume the day after to-morrow. Leopold must start by the same train as your father to-night, in order to catch the express for Fiume at Budapesth to-morrow." "Did he tell you all that?" "I have known all along that he meant to meet his brother at Fiume, and yesterday he said something about it again. So you see, my pretty one, that we can have a comfortable little supper this evening without fear of interruption. We'll have it at ten o'clock, when the supper-party is going on at the barn, eh? We shan't be interrupted then. So give me that duplicate key, will you, and I can slip in quietly through the back door without raising a bit of gossip or scandal. Hurry up now! I shall have to be going." "I can't now," she protested. "Leopold hasn't taken his eyes off me all this time." "Oh! if that is all that is troubling you, my dear," said the young man coolly, "I can easily settle our friend Leopold. Hirsch!" he called loudly. "My lord?" queried the other, with the quick obsequiousness habitual to the down-trodden race. "My horse is kicking up such a row outside. I wish you'd just go and see if the boy is looking after him properly." Of course it was impossible to do anything but obey. My lord had commanded; in the ordinary way the poor Jew shopkeeper would have felt honoured to have been selected for individual recognition. Nor did he do more now than throw one of those swift looks of his--so full of hatred and of menace--upon Klara and the young man; but the latter, having given his orders, no longer condescended to take notice of the Jew and had once more engaged the girl in animated conversation. Had Klara thought of looking up when Leopold finally obeyed my lord's commands and went to look after the horse, she could not have failed to realize the danger which lurked in the young man's pale eyes then. His face, always pale and olive-tinted, was now the colour of ashes, grey and livid and blotched with purple, his lips looked white and quivering, and his eyebrows--of a reddish tinge--met above his nose in a deep, dark scowl. But my lord had thrown out a casual hint about a gold watch, and Klara had no further thought for her jealous admirer. "Now go and fetch the key," said Count Feri, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold. The hint of the gold watch had stirred Klara's pulses. A _t te- -t te_ with my lord was, moreover, greatly to her liking. He could be very amusing when he chose, and was always generous; and Klara's life was often dull and colourless. A pleasant evening spent in his company would compensate her in a measure for her disappointment at not being asked to Elsa's ball, and there was the gold watch to look forward to, above all. Taking an opportunity when her father was absorbed in his game of tarok, she went into the next room and presently returned with a key in her hand, which she surreptitiously gave to my lord. "Splendid!" exclaimed the young man gaily. "Klara, you are a gem, and after supper you shall just ask me for anything you have a fancy for, and I'll give it to you. Now I'd better go. Good-bye, little one. Ten o'clock sharp, eh?" "Ten o'clock," she repeated, under her breath. He strode to the door, outside which he found Leopold waiting for him. "The horse was quite quiet, my lord," said the Jew sullenly; "the boy had never left it for a moment." "Oh! that's all right, Hirsch," rejoined my lord indifferently. "I only wanted to know." Of course he never thought of saying a word of thanks or of excuse to the other man. What would you? A Jew! Bah! not even worth a nod of the head. Count Feri R kosy had quickly mounted his pretty, half-bred Arab mare--a click of the tongue and she was off with him, kicking up a cloud of dust in her wake. But Leopold Hirsch had remained for a moment standing on the doorstep of Ign cz Goldstein's house. He watched horse and rider through that cloud of dust, and along the straight and broad highway, until both had become a mere speck upon the low-lying horizon. "May you break your accursed neck!" he muttered fervently. Then he went back to the tap-room. CHAPTER XX "You happen to be of my race and of my blood." He strode at once to Klara, who greeted him with an ironical little smile and a coquettish look out of her dark eyes. "You never told me that you were going away to-night, my dear Leopold," she said suavely. "Who told you that I was?" he retorted savagely. "It seems to be pretty well known about the place. You seemed to have been talking about it pretty freely that you were going to Fiume to meet your brother when the ship he is on comes in." "I meant to tell you just now, only his lordship's arrival interrupted me," he said more quietly. "And since then you have been busy making a fool of yourself before my lord, eh?" she asked. "Bah!" "And compromising me into the bargain, what? But let me tell you this, my good Leopold, before we go any further, that I am not married to you yet, and that I don't like your airs of proprietorship, _sabe_?" He could not say anything more just then, for customers were departing, and she had to attend to them; he did not try to approach her while she was thus engaged, but presently, when her back was turned, he contrived to work his way across to the door which gave on the inner room, and to push it slightly open with his hand, until he could peep through the aperture and take a quick survey of the room beyond. Klara had not seen this manoeuvre of his, although she had cast more than one rapid and furtive glance upon him while she attended to her customers. She was thankful that he was going away for a few days; in his present mood he was positively dangerous. She had lighted the oil lamp which hung from the centre of the low, raftered ceiling, the hour was getting late, customers were all leaving now one by one. Er s B la was one of the last to go. He had drunk rather more silvorium than was good for him. He knew quite well that by absenting himself from the pre-nuptial festivals he had behaved in a disgraceful and unjustifiable manner which would surely be resented throughout the village, and though he was quite sure that he did not care one brass fill r what all those ignorant peasants thought of him, yet he felt it incumbent upon him to brace up his courage now, before meeting the hostile fusillade of eyes which would be sure to greet him on his return to the barn. He meant to put in a short appearance there, and then to finish his evening here in Klara's company. He felt that his dignity demanded that he should absent himself at any rate from the supper, seeing that Elsa had so grossly defied him. "At ten o'clock I'll be back, Klara," he whispered, in the girl's ear, as he was about to take his departure along with some of his friends, who also intended to go on to the dance in the barn. "Indeed you won't," she retorted decisively, "I have no use for you, my good B la. You are almost a married man now, remember!" she added with a laugh. "I'll bring those bottles of champagne," he urged; "don't be hard on me, Klara. I'll give you a good time to-night, and a nice present into the bargain." "And ruin my reputation for ever, eh? By walking into the tap-room when it's full of people and carrying two bottles of champagne under your arm--or staying on ostentatiously after everyone has gone and for everyone to gossip. No, thank you; I've already told you that I am not going to lend myself to your little games of vengeance. It isn't me you want, it's petty revenge upon Elsa. To that I say no, thank you, my good man." "Klara!" he pleaded. "No!" she said, and unceremoniously turned her back on him. He went off, sullen and morose, and not a little chaffed for his moroseness by his friends. The tap-room was almost deserted for the moment. In one or two corners only a few stragglers lingered; they were sprawling across the tables with arms outstretched. Ign cz Goldstein's silvorium had proved too potent and too plentiful. They lay there in a drunken sleep--logs that were of no account. Presently they would have to be thrown out, but there was no hurry for that--they were not in the way. Ign cz Goldstein had gone into the next room. Klara was busy tidying up the place; Leopold approached her with well-feigned contrition and humility. "I am sorry, Klara," he said. "I seemed to have had the knack to-night of constantly annoying you. So I'd best begone now, perhaps." "I bear no malice, Leo," she said quietly. "I thought I'd come back at about nine o'clock," he continued. "It is nearly eight now." She, thinking that he had his own journey in mind, remarked casually: "You'd best be here well before nine. The train leaves at nine-twenty, and father walks very slowly." "I won't be late," he said. "Best give me the key of the back door. I'll let myself in that way." "No occasion to do that," she retorted. "The front door will be open. You can come in that way like everybody else." "It's just a fancy," he said quietly; "there might be a lot of people about just then. I don't want to come through here. I thought I'd just slip in the back way as I often do. So give me the key, Klara, will you?" "How can I give you the key of the back door?" she said, equally quietly; "you know father always carries it in his coat pocket." "But there is a second key," he remarked, "which hangs on a nail by your father's bedside in the next room. Give me that one, Klara." "I shan't," she retorted. "I never heard such nonsense! As if I could allow you to use the private door of this house just as it suits your fancy. If you want to come in to-night and say good-bye, you must come in by the front door." "It's just a whim of mine, Klara," urged Leopold, now still speaking quietly--almost under his breath--but there was an ominous tremor in his voice and sudden sharp gleams in his eyes which the girl had already noted and which caused the blood to rush back to her heart, leaving her cheeks pale and her lips trembling. "Nonsense!" she contrived to say, with an indifferent shrug of the shoulders. "Just a whim," he reiterated. "So I'll take the key, by your leave." He turned to the door of the inner room and pushed it open, just as he had done awhile ago, and now--as then--he cast a rapid glance round the room. Klara, through half-closed lids, watched his every movement. "Why!" he exclaimed, turning back to her, and with a look of well-feigned surprise, "the key is not in its place." "I know it isn't," she retorted curtly. "Then where is it?" "I have put it away." "When? It was hanging on its usual nail when I first came here this afternoon. I remember the door being open, and my glancing into the room casually. I am sure it was there then." "It may have been: but I put it away after that." "Why should you have done that?" "I don't know, and, anyhow, it's no business of yours, is it?" "Give me that back-door key, Klara," insisted the young man, in a tone of savage command. "No!" she replied, slowly and decisively. There was silence in the little, low raftered room after that, a silence only broken by the buzzing of flies against the white globe of the lamp, and by the snores of the sleepers who sprawled across the tables. Leopold Hirsch had drawn in his breath with a low, hissing sound; his face, by the yellow light of the lamp, looked ghastly in colour, and his hands were twitching convulsively as the trembling fingers clenched and opened with a monotonous, jerky movement of attempted self-control. Klara had not failed to notice these symptoms of an agony of mind which the young man was so vainly trying to hide from her. For the moment she almost felt sorry for him--sorry and slightly remorseful. After all, Leo's frame of mind, the agony which he endured, came from the strength of his love for her. Neither Er s B la, nor the young Count, nor the many admirers who had hung round her in the past until such time as their fancy found more permanent anchorage elsewhere, would have suffered tortures of soul and of heart because she had indulged in a mild flirtation with a rival. Er s B la would have stormed and cursed, the young Count would have laid his riding-whip across the shoulders of his successful rival and there would have been an end of the matter. Leopold Hirsch would go down to hell and endure the torments of the damned, then return to heaven at a smile from her, and go back to hell again and glory in his misery. But just now she was frightened of him; he looked almost like a living corpse; the skin on his face was drawn so tightly over the bones that it gave him the appearance of a skull with hollow eyes and wide, grinning mouth. Outside an owl hooted dismally. Klara gave a slight shiver of fear and looked furtively round her to see if any of the drunkards were awake. Then she recollected that her father was in the next room, and presently, from afar, came shouts of laughter and the sound of music. She woke as from a nightmare, gave her fine shoulders a little shake, and looked boldly into her jealous lover's face. "By the Lord, Leo!" she said, with a little forced laugh, "you have given me the creeps, looking as you do. How dare you frighten me like that? With your clenched hands, too, as if you wanted to murder me. There, now, don't be such a silly fool. You have got a long journey before you; it's no use making yourself sick with jealousy just before you go." "I am not going on a journey," he said, in a toneless, even voice, which seemed to come from a grave. "Not going?" she said, with a frown of puzzlement. "You were going to Fiume to meet your brother, don't you remember? The ship he is on is due in the day after to-morrow. If you don't start to-night you won't be able to catch the express at Budapesth to-morrow." "I know all that," he said, in the same dull, monotonous tone; "I am not going, that's all." "But . . ." "I have changed my mind. Your father is going away. I must watch over you to see that no one molests you. Thieves might want to break in . . . one never knows . . . anyhow, my brother can look after himself . . . I stay to look after you." For a moment or two she stood quite still, her senses strained to grasp the meaning, the purport of the present situation--this madman on the watch outside--the young Count, key in hand, swaggering up to the back door at ten o'clock, when most folk would be at supper in the barn, her father gone, the village street wrapped in darkness! Leopold, by a violent and sudden effort, had regained mastery over the muscles of his face and hands, these no longer twitched now, and he answered her look of mute inquiry with one of well-feigned quietude. Only his breath he could not control, it passed through his throat with a stertorous sound, and every now and then he had to pass his tongue over his dry, cracked lips. Thus they stood for a moment eye to eye; and what she read in his glance caused a nameless fear to strike at her heart and to paralyse her will. But the next instant she had recovered her presence of mind. With quick, febrile movements she had already taken off her apron and with her hands smoothed her unruly dark hair. Then she made for the door. Less than a second and already he had guessed her purpose: before she could reach the door he had his back against it and his nervy fingers had grasped her wrist. "Where are you going?" "Out," she said curtly. "What for?" "That's none of your business." "What for?" he reiterated hoarsely. "Let go my wrist," she exclaimed, "you are hurting me." "I'll hurt you worse," he cried, in a broken voice, "if you cross this threshold to-night." But he released her wrist, and she, wrathful, indignant, terrified, retreated to the other end of the room. "Go out by the back door," he sneered, "if you want to go out. You have the key, haven't you?" "My father . . ." she began. "Yes!" he said. "Go and tell your father that I, Leopold Hirsch, your affianced husband, am browbeating you--making a scene, what?--because you have made an assignation with my lord the young Count, here--at night--under your father's roof--under the roof of a child of Israel! You! An assignation with a dirty Christian! . . . Bah! Go and tell your father that! And he will thrash you to within an inch of your life! We are Jews, he and I, and hold the honour of our women sacred--more sacred than their life!" "Don't be a fool, Leopold," she cried, feeling that indeed, between her father and this madman, her life had ceased to be safe. She looked round her helplessly. Three or four besotted fools lying helpless across the tables, and all the village dancing and making merry some two hundred m tres away, her father--implacable, as she well knew, where her conduct was concerned--and this madman ready to kill to satisfy his lust of vengeance and of hate--she felt that indeed, unless Heaven performed a miracle, here was the beginning of an awful, an irredeemable tragedy. "Leopold, don't be a fool," she reiterated, trying with all her might not to appear frightened or scared or confused. "I have promised Kapus Elsa to go to her dance for half an hour. I had forgotten all about it. I must go now." "Go and change your dress, then," he retorted with a sneer, "then you can go out by the back way. You have put the key away somewhere, haven't you? You know where it is." "You are mad about doors to-night. I tell you I am going out now, by that front door--at once." "And I tell you," he said, slowly and deliberately, "that if you cross the front door step I will call your father and tell him that you go and meet your lover--a Christian lover--the young Count--who would as soon think of marrying you as he would a nigger or a kitchen slut. Before you will have reached the high road your father and I will be on your heels, and either he or I will strangle you ere you come within sight of my lord's castle." "You are mad!" she cried. "Or else an idiot." "Better look for that back-door key," he retorted. "What has the back-door key to do with it?" she asked sullenly. "Only this," he replied, "that while that monkey-faced dog of a Christian was whispering to you just now, I know that the key was hanging on its usual peg, but I heard something about 'supper' and about 'ten o'clock.' May he break his neck, I say, and save me the job. Then he ordered me out of the room. Oh! I guessed! I am no fool, you know! When I came back I looked into your father's room--the key was gone, and I knew. And what I say is, why can't he come in by the front door like a man, if he has nothing to hide? Why must you let him come in like a thief by a back-door, if you have nothing to be ashamed of? The tap-room is open to anybody. Anybody can walk in and get a drink if they want to. Then why this whispering and this sneaking?" He was working himself up to a greater and ever greater passion of fury. He kept his voice low because he didn't want Ign cz Goldstein to hear--not just yet, at any rate--for Ign cz was a hard man and a stern father, and God only knew what he might not do if he was roused. Leopold did not want Klara hurt--not yet, at any rate--not until he was quite sure that she meant to play him altogether false. She was vain and frivolous, over-fond of dress and of queening it over the peasant girls of the village, but there was no real harm in her. She was immensely flattered by the young Count's attentions and over-ready to accept his presents in exchange for kisses and whisperings behind closed doors, but there was no real harm in her--so at least Leopold Hirsch kept repeating to himself time and again, whenever jealousy gnawed at his heart more roughly than he could endure. Just now that torment was almost unbearable, and the passion of fury into which he had worked himself blinded him momentarily to the dull, aching pain. Klara, as he spoke thus hoarsely, and brought his contorted face closer and closer to hers, had gradually shrunk more and more into the corner of the room, and there she remained now, flattened against the wall, her wide-open, terror-filled eyes fixed staringly upon this raving madman. "You asked just now," he continued, in the same hoarse, guttural whisper, which seemed literally to be racking and tearing his throat as it came, "what the back-door key had to do with my not going to meet my brother at Fiume. Well! It has this much to do with it, that you happen to be my tokened wife, that you happen to be of my race and of my blood, a sober, clean-living Jewess, please God, and not one of those frivolous, empty-headed Christian girls--you are that now, I know; if you were not I would kill you first and myself afterwards: therefore, if to-night I catch a thief--any thief, I don't care who he is--sneaking into this house by a back door when you happen to be here alone and seemingly unprotected, if I catch any kind of thief or malefactor, I say . . ." He paused, and she, through teeth that chattered, contrived to murmur: "Well? What do you say? Why don't you go on?" "Because you understand," he said, with calm as sudden and as terrible as his rage had been awhile ago. "I am not a Christian, you know, nor yet a gentleman. I cannot walk up either to my lord's castle or to one of these Christian Magyar peasants and strike him in the face for trying to rob me of that which is more precious to me than life. I am a Jew . . . a low-born, miserable Jew, whose whole race, origin and upbringing are despicable in the sight of the noble lords as well as of the Hungarian peasantry. Just a wretched creature whom one orders to hold one's horse, to brush one's boots, to stand out of one's way, anyhow; but not to meet as man to man, not to fight openly and frankly for the woman whom one loves. Well! You happen to be a Jewess too, and tokened to a Jew, and if either my lord or one of these d----d Magyar peasants chooses to come sneaking round you like a thief in the night, well . . ." He paused, and from the pocket of his shabby trousers he half drew out a long, sheathed hunting-knife, and then quickly hid it again from her sight. Klara smothered a desperate cry of terror. Leopold now turned his back on her; he went up to the table and seizing a carafe of water, he poured himself out a huge mugful and drank it down at a draught. The edge of the mug rattled against his teeth, his hand was trembling so that half the contents were poured down on his clothes. He did not look again on Klara, but having put the mug down, he passed his hand once or twice across his forehead as if to chase away some of those horrible thoughts which were still lurking in his brain. Then he took his cigarette-case out of his pocket, selected a cigarette, struck a match and lit it, still avoiding Klara's fixed and staring gaze. "I'll go and smoke this outside," he said quietly. "I can see both doors from the corner. When you have found that back-door key you may go to Elsa Kapus' wedding feast, but not before." He took a final look round the room, and his eyes, which had once more become dull and pale, rested with an infinite look of contempt upon the two or three besotted drunkards who, throughout this scene, had done no more than open and blink a sleepy eye. "Shall I turn these louts out for you now?" he asked. "No, no," she replied mechanically, "let them have their sleep. When they wake they'll go away all right." Just then the outer door was opened and Lakatos Andor's broad figure appeared upon the threshold. Leopold Hirsch gave him a nod, and without another look on Klara, he strode out into the night. CHAPTER XXI "Jealous, like a madman." "I came to see if B la was still here," said Andor, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold Hirsch. "One or two chaps whom I met awhile ago told me that he had not been seen in the barn this hour past, and that there was a lot of talk about it. I thought that if he were here, I could persuade you . . ." He paused, and looked more keenly at the girl. "What is it, Klara?" he asked; "you seem ill or upset . . ." She closed her eyes once or twice like someone just waking out of a dream, then she passed her hands over her forehead and over her hair. She felt completely dazed and stupid, as if she had received a stunning blow on the head, and while Andor talked she looked at him with staring eyes, not understanding a word that he said. "Yes--yes, Andor?" she said vaguely. "What can I do for you?" "Nothing much, my good Klara," he replied; "it was only about B la . . ." "Yes--about B la," she stammered; "won't . . . won't you sit down?" "Thank you, I will for a moment." She moved forward in order to get him a chair, but she found that she could not stand. The moment that she relinquished the prop of the wall, her knees gave way under her and she lurched forward against the table. She would have fallen had not Andor caught her and guided her to a chair, whereon she sank half fainting, with eyes closed and cheeks and lips the colour of ashes. Just for the moment the wild thought flew through his mind that she had been induced to drink by one of the men, but a closer look on her wan, pale face and into those dilated eyes of hers convinced him that the girl was in real and acute mental distress. He went up to the table and poured out a mug of wine, which he held to her lips. She drank eagerly, looking up at him the while with a strangely pathetic, eagerly appealing gaze. When he had taken the mug from her and replaced it on the table, he drew a chair close to her and said as kindly as he could, for he did not feel very well-disposed toward the girl who was the cause of much unhappiness to Elsa: "Now, Klara, you are going to tell me what is the matter with you." But already she had recovered herself a little, and Lakatos Andor's somewhat dictatorial tone grated upon her sensitive ear. "There's nothing the matter with me," she retorted, with a return of her habitual flippancy. "What should be the matter?" "I don't know," he said dryly; "and, of course, if you tell me that it's a private affair of your own and none of my business, why I'll be quite satisfied, and not ask any more questions. But if it's anything to do with B la . . ." "No, of course not," she broke in impatiently. "What should B la have to do with my affairs? B la has been gone from here this hour past." "And he is not coming back?" asked Andor searchingly. "I trust not," she replied fervently, and the young man noticed that the staring, terror-filled look once more crept into her eyes. "Very well, then," he said, rising, "that is all I wanted to know. I am sorry to have disturbed you. Good-night,

merry

How many times the word 'merry' appears in the text?

Fiume in half an hour." "To Fiume?" "Yes. You know he has a brother coming home from America." "I know that." "His ship is due in at Fiume the day after to-morrow. Leopold must start by the same train as your father to-night, in order to catch the express for Fiume at Budapesth to-morrow." "Did he tell you all that?" "I have known all along that he meant to meet his brother at Fiume, and yesterday he said something about it again. So you see, my pretty one, that we can have a comfortable little supper this evening without fear of interruption. We'll have it at ten o'clock, when the supper-party is going on at the barn, eh? We shan't be interrupted then. So give me that duplicate key, will you, and I can slip in quietly through the back door without raising a bit of gossip or scandal. Hurry up now! I shall have to be going." "I can't now," she protested. "Leopold hasn't taken his eyes off me all this time." "Oh! if that is all that is troubling you, my dear," said the young man coolly, "I can easily settle our friend Leopold. Hirsch!" he called loudly. "My lord?" queried the other, with the quick obsequiousness habitual to the down-trodden race. "My horse is kicking up such a row outside. I wish you'd just go and see if the boy is looking after him properly." Of course it was impossible to do anything but obey. My lord had commanded; in the ordinary way the poor Jew shopkeeper would have felt honoured to have been selected for individual recognition. Nor did he do more now than throw one of those swift looks of his--so full of hatred and of menace--upon Klara and the young man; but the latter, having given his orders, no longer condescended to take notice of the Jew and had once more engaged the girl in animated conversation. Had Klara thought of looking up when Leopold finally obeyed my lord's commands and went to look after the horse, she could not have failed to realize the danger which lurked in the young man's pale eyes then. His face, always pale and olive-tinted, was now the colour of ashes, grey and livid and blotched with purple, his lips looked white and quivering, and his eyebrows--of a reddish tinge--met above his nose in a deep, dark scowl. But my lord had thrown out a casual hint about a gold watch, and Klara had no further thought for her jealous admirer. "Now go and fetch the key," said Count Feri, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold. The hint of the gold watch had stirred Klara's pulses. A _t te- -t te_ with my lord was, moreover, greatly to her liking. He could be very amusing when he chose, and was always generous; and Klara's life was often dull and colourless. A pleasant evening spent in his company would compensate her in a measure for her disappointment at not being asked to Elsa's ball, and there was the gold watch to look forward to, above all. Taking an opportunity when her father was absorbed in his game of tarok, she went into the next room and presently returned with a key in her hand, which she surreptitiously gave to my lord. "Splendid!" exclaimed the young man gaily. "Klara, you are a gem, and after supper you shall just ask me for anything you have a fancy for, and I'll give it to you. Now I'd better go. Good-bye, little one. Ten o'clock sharp, eh?" "Ten o'clock," she repeated, under her breath. He strode to the door, outside which he found Leopold waiting for him. "The horse was quite quiet, my lord," said the Jew sullenly; "the boy had never left it for a moment." "Oh! that's all right, Hirsch," rejoined my lord indifferently. "I only wanted to know." Of course he never thought of saying a word of thanks or of excuse to the other man. What would you? A Jew! Bah! not even worth a nod of the head. Count Feri R kosy had quickly mounted his pretty, half-bred Arab mare--a click of the tongue and she was off with him, kicking up a cloud of dust in her wake. But Leopold Hirsch had remained for a moment standing on the doorstep of Ign cz Goldstein's house. He watched horse and rider through that cloud of dust, and along the straight and broad highway, until both had become a mere speck upon the low-lying horizon. "May you break your accursed neck!" he muttered fervently. Then he went back to the tap-room. CHAPTER XX "You happen to be of my race and of my blood." He strode at once to Klara, who greeted him with an ironical little smile and a coquettish look out of her dark eyes. "You never told me that you were going away to-night, my dear Leopold," she said suavely. "Who told you that I was?" he retorted savagely. "It seems to be pretty well known about the place. You seemed to have been talking about it pretty freely that you were going to Fiume to meet your brother when the ship he is on comes in." "I meant to tell you just now, only his lordship's arrival interrupted me," he said more quietly. "And since then you have been busy making a fool of yourself before my lord, eh?" she asked. "Bah!" "And compromising me into the bargain, what? But let me tell you this, my good Leopold, before we go any further, that I am not married to you yet, and that I don't like your airs of proprietorship, _sabe_?" He could not say anything more just then, for customers were departing, and she had to attend to them; he did not try to approach her while she was thus engaged, but presently, when her back was turned, he contrived to work his way across to the door which gave on the inner room, and to push it slightly open with his hand, until he could peep through the aperture and take a quick survey of the room beyond. Klara had not seen this manoeuvre of his, although she had cast more than one rapid and furtive glance upon him while she attended to her customers. She was thankful that he was going away for a few days; in his present mood he was positively dangerous. She had lighted the oil lamp which hung from the centre of the low, raftered ceiling, the hour was getting late, customers were all leaving now one by one. Er s B la was one of the last to go. He had drunk rather more silvorium than was good for him. He knew quite well that by absenting himself from the pre-nuptial festivals he had behaved in a disgraceful and unjustifiable manner which would surely be resented throughout the village, and though he was quite sure that he did not care one brass fill r what all those ignorant peasants thought of him, yet he felt it incumbent upon him to brace up his courage now, before meeting the hostile fusillade of eyes which would be sure to greet him on his return to the barn. He meant to put in a short appearance there, and then to finish his evening here in Klara's company. He felt that his dignity demanded that he should absent himself at any rate from the supper, seeing that Elsa had so grossly defied him. "At ten o'clock I'll be back, Klara," he whispered, in the girl's ear, as he was about to take his departure along with some of his friends, who also intended to go on to the dance in the barn. "Indeed you won't," she retorted decisively, "I have no use for you, my good B la. You are almost a married man now, remember!" she added with a laugh. "I'll bring those bottles of champagne," he urged; "don't be hard on me, Klara. I'll give you a good time to-night, and a nice present into the bargain." "And ruin my reputation for ever, eh? By walking into the tap-room when it's full of people and carrying two bottles of champagne under your arm--or staying on ostentatiously after everyone has gone and for everyone to gossip. No, thank you; I've already told you that I am not going to lend myself to your little games of vengeance. It isn't me you want, it's petty revenge upon Elsa. To that I say no, thank you, my good man." "Klara!" he pleaded. "No!" she said, and unceremoniously turned her back on him. He went off, sullen and morose, and not a little chaffed for his moroseness by his friends. The tap-room was almost deserted for the moment. In one or two corners only a few stragglers lingered; they were sprawling across the tables with arms outstretched. Ign cz Goldstein's silvorium had proved too potent and too plentiful. They lay there in a drunken sleep--logs that were of no account. Presently they would have to be thrown out, but there was no hurry for that--they were not in the way. Ign cz Goldstein had gone into the next room. Klara was busy tidying up the place; Leopold approached her with well-feigned contrition and humility. "I am sorry, Klara," he said. "I seemed to have had the knack to-night of constantly annoying you. So I'd best begone now, perhaps." "I bear no malice, Leo," she said quietly. "I thought I'd come back at about nine o'clock," he continued. "It is nearly eight now." She, thinking that he had his own journey in mind, remarked casually: "You'd best be here well before nine. The train leaves at nine-twenty, and father walks very slowly." "I won't be late," he said. "Best give me the key of the back door. I'll let myself in that way." "No occasion to do that," she retorted. "The front door will be open. You can come in that way like everybody else." "It's just a fancy," he said quietly; "there might be a lot of people about just then. I don't want to come through here. I thought I'd just slip in the back way as I often do. So give me the key, Klara, will you?" "How can I give you the key of the back door?" she said, equally quietly; "you know father always carries it in his coat pocket." "But there is a second key," he remarked, "which hangs on a nail by your father's bedside in the next room. Give me that one, Klara." "I shan't," she retorted. "I never heard such nonsense! As if I could allow you to use the private door of this house just as it suits your fancy. If you want to come in to-night and say good-bye, you must come in by the front door." "It's just a whim of mine, Klara," urged Leopold, now still speaking quietly--almost under his breath--but there was an ominous tremor in his voice and sudden sharp gleams in his eyes which the girl had already noted and which caused the blood to rush back to her heart, leaving her cheeks pale and her lips trembling. "Nonsense!" she contrived to say, with an indifferent shrug of the shoulders. "Just a whim," he reiterated. "So I'll take the key, by your leave." He turned to the door of the inner room and pushed it open, just as he had done awhile ago, and now--as then--he cast a rapid glance round the room. Klara, through half-closed lids, watched his every movement. "Why!" he exclaimed, turning back to her, and with a look of well-feigned surprise, "the key is not in its place." "I know it isn't," she retorted curtly. "Then where is it?" "I have put it away." "When? It was hanging on its usual nail when I first came here this afternoon. I remember the door being open, and my glancing into the room casually. I am sure it was there then." "It may have been: but I put it away after that." "Why should you have done that?" "I don't know, and, anyhow, it's no business of yours, is it?" "Give me that back-door key, Klara," insisted the young man, in a tone of savage command. "No!" she replied, slowly and decisively. There was silence in the little, low raftered room after that, a silence only broken by the buzzing of flies against the white globe of the lamp, and by the snores of the sleepers who sprawled across the tables. Leopold Hirsch had drawn in his breath with a low, hissing sound; his face, by the yellow light of the lamp, looked ghastly in colour, and his hands were twitching convulsively as the trembling fingers clenched and opened with a monotonous, jerky movement of attempted self-control. Klara had not failed to notice these symptoms of an agony of mind which the young man was so vainly trying to hide from her. For the moment she almost felt sorry for him--sorry and slightly remorseful. After all, Leo's frame of mind, the agony which he endured, came from the strength of his love for her. Neither Er s B la, nor the young Count, nor the many admirers who had hung round her in the past until such time as their fancy found more permanent anchorage elsewhere, would have suffered tortures of soul and of heart because she had indulged in a mild flirtation with a rival. Er s B la would have stormed and cursed, the young Count would have laid his riding-whip across the shoulders of his successful rival and there would have been an end of the matter. Leopold Hirsch would go down to hell and endure the torments of the damned, then return to heaven at a smile from her, and go back to hell again and glory in his misery. But just now she was frightened of him; he looked almost like a living corpse; the skin on his face was drawn so tightly over the bones that it gave him the appearance of a skull with hollow eyes and wide, grinning mouth. Outside an owl hooted dismally. Klara gave a slight shiver of fear and looked furtively round her to see if any of the drunkards were awake. Then she recollected that her father was in the next room, and presently, from afar, came shouts of laughter and the sound of music. She woke as from a nightmare, gave her fine shoulders a little shake, and looked boldly into her jealous lover's face. "By the Lord, Leo!" she said, with a little forced laugh, "you have given me the creeps, looking as you do. How dare you frighten me like that? With your clenched hands, too, as if you wanted to murder me. There, now, don't be such a silly fool. You have got a long journey before you; it's no use making yourself sick with jealousy just before you go." "I am not going on a journey," he said, in a toneless, even voice, which seemed to come from a grave. "Not going?" she said, with a frown of puzzlement. "You were going to Fiume to meet your brother, don't you remember? The ship he is on is due in the day after to-morrow. If you don't start to-night you won't be able to catch the express at Budapesth to-morrow." "I know all that," he said, in the same dull, monotonous tone; "I am not going, that's all." "But . . ." "I have changed my mind. Your father is going away. I must watch over you to see that no one molests you. Thieves might want to break in . . . one never knows . . . anyhow, my brother can look after himself . . . I stay to look after you." For a moment or two she stood quite still, her senses strained to grasp the meaning, the purport of the present situation--this madman on the watch outside--the young Count, key in hand, swaggering up to the back door at ten o'clock, when most folk would be at supper in the barn, her father gone, the village street wrapped in darkness! Leopold, by a violent and sudden effort, had regained mastery over the muscles of his face and hands, these no longer twitched now, and he answered her look of mute inquiry with one of well-feigned quietude. Only his breath he could not control, it passed through his throat with a stertorous sound, and every now and then he had to pass his tongue over his dry, cracked lips. Thus they stood for a moment eye to eye; and what she read in his glance caused a nameless fear to strike at her heart and to paralyse her will. But the next instant she had recovered her presence of mind. With quick, febrile movements she had already taken off her apron and with her hands smoothed her unruly dark hair. Then she made for the door. Less than a second and already he had guessed her purpose: before she could reach the door he had his back against it and his nervy fingers had grasped her wrist. "Where are you going?" "Out," she said curtly. "What for?" "That's none of your business." "What for?" he reiterated hoarsely. "Let go my wrist," she exclaimed, "you are hurting me." "I'll hurt you worse," he cried, in a broken voice, "if you cross this threshold to-night." But he released her wrist, and she, wrathful, indignant, terrified, retreated to the other end of the room. "Go out by the back door," he sneered, "if you want to go out. You have the key, haven't you?" "My father . . ." she began. "Yes!" he said. "Go and tell your father that I, Leopold Hirsch, your affianced husband, am browbeating you--making a scene, what?--because you have made an assignation with my lord the young Count, here--at night--under your father's roof--under the roof of a child of Israel! You! An assignation with a dirty Christian! . . . Bah! Go and tell your father that! And he will thrash you to within an inch of your life! We are Jews, he and I, and hold the honour of our women sacred--more sacred than their life!" "Don't be a fool, Leopold," she cried, feeling that indeed, between her father and this madman, her life had ceased to be safe. She looked round her helplessly. Three or four besotted fools lying helpless across the tables, and all the village dancing and making merry some two hundred m tres away, her father--implacable, as she well knew, where her conduct was concerned--and this madman ready to kill to satisfy his lust of vengeance and of hate--she felt that indeed, unless Heaven performed a miracle, here was the beginning of an awful, an irredeemable tragedy. "Leopold, don't be a fool," she reiterated, trying with all her might not to appear frightened or scared or confused. "I have promised Kapus Elsa to go to her dance for half an hour. I had forgotten all about it. I must go now." "Go and change your dress, then," he retorted with a sneer, "then you can go out by the back way. You have put the key away somewhere, haven't you? You know where it is." "You are mad about doors to-night. I tell you I am going out now, by that front door--at once." "And I tell you," he said, slowly and deliberately, "that if you cross the front door step I will call your father and tell him that you go and meet your lover--a Christian lover--the young Count--who would as soon think of marrying you as he would a nigger or a kitchen slut. Before you will have reached the high road your father and I will be on your heels, and either he or I will strangle you ere you come within sight of my lord's castle." "You are mad!" she cried. "Or else an idiot." "Better look for that back-door key," he retorted. "What has the back-door key to do with it?" she asked sullenly. "Only this," he replied, "that while that monkey-faced dog of a Christian was whispering to you just now, I know that the key was hanging on its usual peg, but I heard something about 'supper' and about 'ten o'clock.' May he break his neck, I say, and save me the job. Then he ordered me out of the room. Oh! I guessed! I am no fool, you know! When I came back I looked into your father's room--the key was gone, and I knew. And what I say is, why can't he come in by the front door like a man, if he has nothing to hide? Why must you let him come in like a thief by a back-door, if you have nothing to be ashamed of? The tap-room is open to anybody. Anybody can walk in and get a drink if they want to. Then why this whispering and this sneaking?" He was working himself up to a greater and ever greater passion of fury. He kept his voice low because he didn't want Ign cz Goldstein to hear--not just yet, at any rate--for Ign cz was a hard man and a stern father, and God only knew what he might not do if he was roused. Leopold did not want Klara hurt--not yet, at any rate--not until he was quite sure that she meant to play him altogether false. She was vain and frivolous, over-fond of dress and of queening it over the peasant girls of the village, but there was no real harm in her. She was immensely flattered by the young Count's attentions and over-ready to accept his presents in exchange for kisses and whisperings behind closed doors, but there was no real harm in her--so at least Leopold Hirsch kept repeating to himself time and again, whenever jealousy gnawed at his heart more roughly than he could endure. Just now that torment was almost unbearable, and the passion of fury into which he had worked himself blinded him momentarily to the dull, aching pain. Klara, as he spoke thus hoarsely, and brought his contorted face closer and closer to hers, had gradually shrunk more and more into the corner of the room, and there she remained now, flattened against the wall, her wide-open, terror-filled eyes fixed staringly upon this raving madman. "You asked just now," he continued, in the same hoarse, guttural whisper, which seemed literally to be racking and tearing his throat as it came, "what the back-door key had to do with my not going to meet my brother at Fiume. Well! It has this much to do with it, that you happen to be my tokened wife, that you happen to be of my race and of my blood, a sober, clean-living Jewess, please God, and not one of those frivolous, empty-headed Christian girls--you are that now, I know; if you were not I would kill you first and myself afterwards: therefore, if to-night I catch a thief--any thief, I don't care who he is--sneaking into this house by a back door when you happen to be here alone and seemingly unprotected, if I catch any kind of thief or malefactor, I say . . ." He paused, and she, through teeth that chattered, contrived to murmur: "Well? What do you say? Why don't you go on?" "Because you understand," he said, with calm as sudden and as terrible as his rage had been awhile ago. "I am not a Christian, you know, nor yet a gentleman. I cannot walk up either to my lord's castle or to one of these Christian Magyar peasants and strike him in the face for trying to rob me of that which is more precious to me than life. I am a Jew . . . a low-born, miserable Jew, whose whole race, origin and upbringing are despicable in the sight of the noble lords as well as of the Hungarian peasantry. Just a wretched creature whom one orders to hold one's horse, to brush one's boots, to stand out of one's way, anyhow; but not to meet as man to man, not to fight openly and frankly for the woman whom one loves. Well! You happen to be a Jewess too, and tokened to a Jew, and if either my lord or one of these d----d Magyar peasants chooses to come sneaking round you like a thief in the night, well . . ." He paused, and from the pocket of his shabby trousers he half drew out a long, sheathed hunting-knife, and then quickly hid it again from her sight. Klara smothered a desperate cry of terror. Leopold now turned his back on her; he went up to the table and seizing a carafe of water, he poured himself out a huge mugful and drank it down at a draught. The edge of the mug rattled against his teeth, his hand was trembling so that half the contents were poured down on his clothes. He did not look again on Klara, but having put the mug down, he passed his hand once or twice across his forehead as if to chase away some of those horrible thoughts which were still lurking in his brain. Then he took his cigarette-case out of his pocket, selected a cigarette, struck a match and lit it, still avoiding Klara's fixed and staring gaze. "I'll go and smoke this outside," he said quietly. "I can see both doors from the corner. When you have found that back-door key you may go to Elsa Kapus' wedding feast, but not before." He took a final look round the room, and his eyes, which had once more become dull and pale, rested with an infinite look of contempt upon the two or three besotted drunkards who, throughout this scene, had done no more than open and blink a sleepy eye. "Shall I turn these louts out for you now?" he asked. "No, no," she replied mechanically, "let them have their sleep. When they wake they'll go away all right." Just then the outer door was opened and Lakatos Andor's broad figure appeared upon the threshold. Leopold Hirsch gave him a nod, and without another look on Klara, he strode out into the night. CHAPTER XXI "Jealous, like a madman." "I came to see if B la was still here," said Andor, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold Hirsch. "One or two chaps whom I met awhile ago told me that he had not been seen in the barn this hour past, and that there was a lot of talk about it. I thought that if he were here, I could persuade you . . ." He paused, and looked more keenly at the girl. "What is it, Klara?" he asked; "you seem ill or upset . . ." She closed her eyes once or twice like someone just waking out of a dream, then she passed her hands over her forehead and over her hair. She felt completely dazed and stupid, as if she had received a stunning blow on the head, and while Andor talked she looked at him with staring eyes, not understanding a word that he said. "Yes--yes, Andor?" she said vaguely. "What can I do for you?" "Nothing much, my good Klara," he replied; "it was only about B la . . ." "Yes--about B la," she stammered; "won't . . . won't you sit down?" "Thank you, I will for a moment." She moved forward in order to get him a chair, but she found that she could not stand. The moment that she relinquished the prop of the wall, her knees gave way under her and she lurched forward against the table. She would have fallen had not Andor caught her and guided her to a chair, whereon she sank half fainting, with eyes closed and cheeks and lips the colour of ashes. Just for the moment the wild thought flew through his mind that she had been induced to drink by one of the men, but a closer look on her wan, pale face and into those dilated eyes of hers convinced him that the girl was in real and acute mental distress. He went up to the table and poured out a mug of wine, which he held to her lips. She drank eagerly, looking up at him the while with a strangely pathetic, eagerly appealing gaze. When he had taken the mug from her and replaced it on the table, he drew a chair close to her and said as kindly as he could, for he did not feel very well-disposed toward the girl who was the cause of much unhappiness to Elsa: "Now, Klara, you are going to tell me what is the matter with you." But already she had recovered herself a little, and Lakatos Andor's somewhat dictatorial tone grated upon her sensitive ear. "There's nothing the matter with me," she retorted, with a return of her habitual flippancy. "What should be the matter?" "I don't know," he said dryly; "and, of course, if you tell me that it's a private affair of your own and none of my business, why I'll be quite satisfied, and not ask any more questions. But if it's anything to do with B la . . ." "No, of course not," she broke in impatiently. "What should B la have to do with my affairs? B la has been gone from here this hour past." "And he is not coming back?" asked Andor searchingly. "I trust not," she replied fervently, and the young man noticed that the staring, terror-filled look once more crept into her eyes. "Very well, then," he said, rising, "that is all I wanted to know. I am sorry to have disturbed you. Good-night,

mesh

How many times the word 'mesh' appears in the text?

Fiume in half an hour." "To Fiume?" "Yes. You know he has a brother coming home from America." "I know that." "His ship is due in at Fiume the day after to-morrow. Leopold must start by the same train as your father to-night, in order to catch the express for Fiume at Budapesth to-morrow." "Did he tell you all that?" "I have known all along that he meant to meet his brother at Fiume, and yesterday he said something about it again. So you see, my pretty one, that we can have a comfortable little supper this evening without fear of interruption. We'll have it at ten o'clock, when the supper-party is going on at the barn, eh? We shan't be interrupted then. So give me that duplicate key, will you, and I can slip in quietly through the back door without raising a bit of gossip or scandal. Hurry up now! I shall have to be going." "I can't now," she protested. "Leopold hasn't taken his eyes off me all this time." "Oh! if that is all that is troubling you, my dear," said the young man coolly, "I can easily settle our friend Leopold. Hirsch!" he called loudly. "My lord?" queried the other, with the quick obsequiousness habitual to the down-trodden race. "My horse is kicking up such a row outside. I wish you'd just go and see if the boy is looking after him properly." Of course it was impossible to do anything but obey. My lord had commanded; in the ordinary way the poor Jew shopkeeper would have felt honoured to have been selected for individual recognition. Nor did he do more now than throw one of those swift looks of his--so full of hatred and of menace--upon Klara and the young man; but the latter, having given his orders, no longer condescended to take notice of the Jew and had once more engaged the girl in animated conversation. Had Klara thought of looking up when Leopold finally obeyed my lord's commands and went to look after the horse, she could not have failed to realize the danger which lurked in the young man's pale eyes then. His face, always pale and olive-tinted, was now the colour of ashes, grey and livid and blotched with purple, his lips looked white and quivering, and his eyebrows--of a reddish tinge--met above his nose in a deep, dark scowl. But my lord had thrown out a casual hint about a gold watch, and Klara had no further thought for her jealous admirer. "Now go and fetch the key," said Count Feri, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold. The hint of the gold watch had stirred Klara's pulses. A _t te- -t te_ with my lord was, moreover, greatly to her liking. He could be very amusing when he chose, and was always generous; and Klara's life was often dull and colourless. A pleasant evening spent in his company would compensate her in a measure for her disappointment at not being asked to Elsa's ball, and there was the gold watch to look forward to, above all. Taking an opportunity when her father was absorbed in his game of tarok, she went into the next room and presently returned with a key in her hand, which she surreptitiously gave to my lord. "Splendid!" exclaimed the young man gaily. "Klara, you are a gem, and after supper you shall just ask me for anything you have a fancy for, and I'll give it to you. Now I'd better go. Good-bye, little one. Ten o'clock sharp, eh?" "Ten o'clock," she repeated, under her breath. He strode to the door, outside which he found Leopold waiting for him. "The horse was quite quiet, my lord," said the Jew sullenly; "the boy had never left it for a moment." "Oh! that's all right, Hirsch," rejoined my lord indifferently. "I only wanted to know." Of course he never thought of saying a word of thanks or of excuse to the other man. What would you? A Jew! Bah! not even worth a nod of the head. Count Feri R kosy had quickly mounted his pretty, half-bred Arab mare--a click of the tongue and she was off with him, kicking up a cloud of dust in her wake. But Leopold Hirsch had remained for a moment standing on the doorstep of Ign cz Goldstein's house. He watched horse and rider through that cloud of dust, and along the straight and broad highway, until both had become a mere speck upon the low-lying horizon. "May you break your accursed neck!" he muttered fervently. Then he went back to the tap-room. CHAPTER XX "You happen to be of my race and of my blood." He strode at once to Klara, who greeted him with an ironical little smile and a coquettish look out of her dark eyes. "You never told me that you were going away to-night, my dear Leopold," she said suavely. "Who told you that I was?" he retorted savagely. "It seems to be pretty well known about the place. You seemed to have been talking about it pretty freely that you were going to Fiume to meet your brother when the ship he is on comes in." "I meant to tell you just now, only his lordship's arrival interrupted me," he said more quietly. "And since then you have been busy making a fool of yourself before my lord, eh?" she asked. "Bah!" "And compromising me into the bargain, what? But let me tell you this, my good Leopold, before we go any further, that I am not married to you yet, and that I don't like your airs of proprietorship, _sabe_?" He could not say anything more just then, for customers were departing, and she had to attend to them; he did not try to approach her while she was thus engaged, but presently, when her back was turned, he contrived to work his way across to the door which gave on the inner room, and to push it slightly open with his hand, until he could peep through the aperture and take a quick survey of the room beyond. Klara had not seen this manoeuvre of his, although she had cast more than one rapid and furtive glance upon him while she attended to her customers. She was thankful that he was going away for a few days; in his present mood he was positively dangerous. She had lighted the oil lamp which hung from the centre of the low, raftered ceiling, the hour was getting late, customers were all leaving now one by one. Er s B la was one of the last to go. He had drunk rather more silvorium than was good for him. He knew quite well that by absenting himself from the pre-nuptial festivals he had behaved in a disgraceful and unjustifiable manner which would surely be resented throughout the village, and though he was quite sure that he did not care one brass fill r what all those ignorant peasants thought of him, yet he felt it incumbent upon him to brace up his courage now, before meeting the hostile fusillade of eyes which would be sure to greet him on his return to the barn. He meant to put in a short appearance there, and then to finish his evening here in Klara's company. He felt that his dignity demanded that he should absent himself at any rate from the supper, seeing that Elsa had so grossly defied him. "At ten o'clock I'll be back, Klara," he whispered, in the girl's ear, as he was about to take his departure along with some of his friends, who also intended to go on to the dance in the barn. "Indeed you won't," she retorted decisively, "I have no use for you, my good B la. You are almost a married man now, remember!" she added with a laugh. "I'll bring those bottles of champagne," he urged; "don't be hard on me, Klara. I'll give you a good time to-night, and a nice present into the bargain." "And ruin my reputation for ever, eh? By walking into the tap-room when it's full of people and carrying two bottles of champagne under your arm--or staying on ostentatiously after everyone has gone and for everyone to gossip. No, thank you; I've already told you that I am not going to lend myself to your little games of vengeance. It isn't me you want, it's petty revenge upon Elsa. To that I say no, thank you, my good man." "Klara!" he pleaded. "No!" she said, and unceremoniously turned her back on him. He went off, sullen and morose, and not a little chaffed for his moroseness by his friends. The tap-room was almost deserted for the moment. In one or two corners only a few stragglers lingered; they were sprawling across the tables with arms outstretched. Ign cz Goldstein's silvorium had proved too potent and too plentiful. They lay there in a drunken sleep--logs that were of no account. Presently they would have to be thrown out, but there was no hurry for that--they were not in the way. Ign cz Goldstein had gone into the next room. Klara was busy tidying up the place; Leopold approached her with well-feigned contrition and humility. "I am sorry, Klara," he said. "I seemed to have had the knack to-night of constantly annoying you. So I'd best begone now, perhaps." "I bear no malice, Leo," she said quietly. "I thought I'd come back at about nine o'clock," he continued. "It is nearly eight now." She, thinking that he had his own journey in mind, remarked casually: "You'd best be here well before nine. The train leaves at nine-twenty, and father walks very slowly." "I won't be late," he said. "Best give me the key of the back door. I'll let myself in that way." "No occasion to do that," she retorted. "The front door will be open. You can come in that way like everybody else." "It's just a fancy," he said quietly; "there might be a lot of people about just then. I don't want to come through here. I thought I'd just slip in the back way as I often do. So give me the key, Klara, will you?" "How can I give you the key of the back door?" she said, equally quietly; "you know father always carries it in his coat pocket." "But there is a second key," he remarked, "which hangs on a nail by your father's bedside in the next room. Give me that one, Klara." "I shan't," she retorted. "I never heard such nonsense! As if I could allow you to use the private door of this house just as it suits your fancy. If you want to come in to-night and say good-bye, you must come in by the front door." "It's just a whim of mine, Klara," urged Leopold, now still speaking quietly--almost under his breath--but there was an ominous tremor in his voice and sudden sharp gleams in his eyes which the girl had already noted and which caused the blood to rush back to her heart, leaving her cheeks pale and her lips trembling. "Nonsense!" she contrived to say, with an indifferent shrug of the shoulders. "Just a whim," he reiterated. "So I'll take the key, by your leave." He turned to the door of the inner room and pushed it open, just as he had done awhile ago, and now--as then--he cast a rapid glance round the room. Klara, through half-closed lids, watched his every movement. "Why!" he exclaimed, turning back to her, and with a look of well-feigned surprise, "the key is not in its place." "I know it isn't," she retorted curtly. "Then where is it?" "I have put it away." "When? It was hanging on its usual nail when I first came here this afternoon. I remember the door being open, and my glancing into the room casually. I am sure it was there then." "It may have been: but I put it away after that." "Why should you have done that?" "I don't know, and, anyhow, it's no business of yours, is it?" "Give me that back-door key, Klara," insisted the young man, in a tone of savage command. "No!" she replied, slowly and decisively. There was silence in the little, low raftered room after that, a silence only broken by the buzzing of flies against the white globe of the lamp, and by the snores of the sleepers who sprawled across the tables. Leopold Hirsch had drawn in his breath with a low, hissing sound; his face, by the yellow light of the lamp, looked ghastly in colour, and his hands were twitching convulsively as the trembling fingers clenched and opened with a monotonous, jerky movement of attempted self-control. Klara had not failed to notice these symptoms of an agony of mind which the young man was so vainly trying to hide from her. For the moment she almost felt sorry for him--sorry and slightly remorseful. After all, Leo's frame of mind, the agony which he endured, came from the strength of his love for her. Neither Er s B la, nor the young Count, nor the many admirers who had hung round her in the past until such time as their fancy found more permanent anchorage elsewhere, would have suffered tortures of soul and of heart because she had indulged in a mild flirtation with a rival. Er s B la would have stormed and cursed, the young Count would have laid his riding-whip across the shoulders of his successful rival and there would have been an end of the matter. Leopold Hirsch would go down to hell and endure the torments of the damned, then return to heaven at a smile from her, and go back to hell again and glory in his misery. But just now she was frightened of him; he looked almost like a living corpse; the skin on his face was drawn so tightly over the bones that it gave him the appearance of a skull with hollow eyes and wide, grinning mouth. Outside an owl hooted dismally. Klara gave a slight shiver of fear and looked furtively round her to see if any of the drunkards were awake. Then she recollected that her father was in the next room, and presently, from afar, came shouts of laughter and the sound of music. She woke as from a nightmare, gave her fine shoulders a little shake, and looked boldly into her jealous lover's face. "By the Lord, Leo!" she said, with a little forced laugh, "you have given me the creeps, looking as you do. How dare you frighten me like that? With your clenched hands, too, as if you wanted to murder me. There, now, don't be such a silly fool. You have got a long journey before you; it's no use making yourself sick with jealousy just before you go." "I am not going on a journey," he said, in a toneless, even voice, which seemed to come from a grave. "Not going?" she said, with a frown of puzzlement. "You were going to Fiume to meet your brother, don't you remember? The ship he is on is due in the day after to-morrow. If you don't start to-night you won't be able to catch the express at Budapesth to-morrow." "I know all that," he said, in the same dull, monotonous tone; "I am not going, that's all." "But . . ." "I have changed my mind. Your father is going away. I must watch over you to see that no one molests you. Thieves might want to break in . . . one never knows . . . anyhow, my brother can look after himself . . . I stay to look after you." For a moment or two she stood quite still, her senses strained to grasp the meaning, the purport of the present situation--this madman on the watch outside--the young Count, key in hand, swaggering up to the back door at ten o'clock, when most folk would be at supper in the barn, her father gone, the village street wrapped in darkness! Leopold, by a violent and sudden effort, had regained mastery over the muscles of his face and hands, these no longer twitched now, and he answered her look of mute inquiry with one of well-feigned quietude. Only his breath he could not control, it passed through his throat with a stertorous sound, and every now and then he had to pass his tongue over his dry, cracked lips. Thus they stood for a moment eye to eye; and what she read in his glance caused a nameless fear to strike at her heart and to paralyse her will. But the next instant she had recovered her presence of mind. With quick, febrile movements she had already taken off her apron and with her hands smoothed her unruly dark hair. Then she made for the door. Less than a second and already he had guessed her purpose: before she could reach the door he had his back against it and his nervy fingers had grasped her wrist. "Where are you going?" "Out," she said curtly. "What for?" "That's none of your business." "What for?" he reiterated hoarsely. "Let go my wrist," she exclaimed, "you are hurting me." "I'll hurt you worse," he cried, in a broken voice, "if you cross this threshold to-night." But he released her wrist, and she, wrathful, indignant, terrified, retreated to the other end of the room. "Go out by the back door," he sneered, "if you want to go out. You have the key, haven't you?" "My father . . ." she began. "Yes!" he said. "Go and tell your father that I, Leopold Hirsch, your affianced husband, am browbeating you--making a scene, what?--because you have made an assignation with my lord the young Count, here--at night--under your father's roof--under the roof of a child of Israel! You! An assignation with a dirty Christian! . . . Bah! Go and tell your father that! And he will thrash you to within an inch of your life! We are Jews, he and I, and hold the honour of our women sacred--more sacred than their life!" "Don't be a fool, Leopold," she cried, feeling that indeed, between her father and this madman, her life had ceased to be safe. She looked round her helplessly. Three or four besotted fools lying helpless across the tables, and all the village dancing and making merry some two hundred m tres away, her father--implacable, as she well knew, where her conduct was concerned--and this madman ready to kill to satisfy his lust of vengeance and of hate--she felt that indeed, unless Heaven performed a miracle, here was the beginning of an awful, an irredeemable tragedy. "Leopold, don't be a fool," she reiterated, trying with all her might not to appear frightened or scared or confused. "I have promised Kapus Elsa to go to her dance for half an hour. I had forgotten all about it. I must go now." "Go and change your dress, then," he retorted with a sneer, "then you can go out by the back way. You have put the key away somewhere, haven't you? You know where it is." "You are mad about doors to-night. I tell you I am going out now, by that front door--at once." "And I tell you," he said, slowly and deliberately, "that if you cross the front door step I will call your father and tell him that you go and meet your lover--a Christian lover--the young Count--who would as soon think of marrying you as he would a nigger or a kitchen slut. Before you will have reached the high road your father and I will be on your heels, and either he or I will strangle you ere you come within sight of my lord's castle." "You are mad!" she cried. "Or else an idiot." "Better look for that back-door key," he retorted. "What has the back-door key to do with it?" she asked sullenly. "Only this," he replied, "that while that monkey-faced dog of a Christian was whispering to you just now, I know that the key was hanging on its usual peg, but I heard something about 'supper' and about 'ten o'clock.' May he break his neck, I say, and save me the job. Then he ordered me out of the room. Oh! I guessed! I am no fool, you know! When I came back I looked into your father's room--the key was gone, and I knew. And what I say is, why can't he come in by the front door like a man, if he has nothing to hide? Why must you let him come in like a thief by a back-door, if you have nothing to be ashamed of? The tap-room is open to anybody. Anybody can walk in and get a drink if they want to. Then why this whispering and this sneaking?" He was working himself up to a greater and ever greater passion of fury. He kept his voice low because he didn't want Ign cz Goldstein to hear--not just yet, at any rate--for Ign cz was a hard man and a stern father, and God only knew what he might not do if he was roused. Leopold did not want Klara hurt--not yet, at any rate--not until he was quite sure that she meant to play him altogether false. She was vain and frivolous, over-fond of dress and of queening it over the peasant girls of the village, but there was no real harm in her. She was immensely flattered by the young Count's attentions and over-ready to accept his presents in exchange for kisses and whisperings behind closed doors, but there was no real harm in her--so at least Leopold Hirsch kept repeating to himself time and again, whenever jealousy gnawed at his heart more roughly than he could endure. Just now that torment was almost unbearable, and the passion of fury into which he had worked himself blinded him momentarily to the dull, aching pain. Klara, as he spoke thus hoarsely, and brought his contorted face closer and closer to hers, had gradually shrunk more and more into the corner of the room, and there she remained now, flattened against the wall, her wide-open, terror-filled eyes fixed staringly upon this raving madman. "You asked just now," he continued, in the same hoarse, guttural whisper, which seemed literally to be racking and tearing his throat as it came, "what the back-door key had to do with my not going to meet my brother at Fiume. Well! It has this much to do with it, that you happen to be my tokened wife, that you happen to be of my race and of my blood, a sober, clean-living Jewess, please God, and not one of those frivolous, empty-headed Christian girls--you are that now, I know; if you were not I would kill you first and myself afterwards: therefore, if to-night I catch a thief--any thief, I don't care who he is--sneaking into this house by a back door when you happen to be here alone and seemingly unprotected, if I catch any kind of thief or malefactor, I say . . ." He paused, and she, through teeth that chattered, contrived to murmur: "Well? What do you say? Why don't you go on?" "Because you understand," he said, with calm as sudden and as terrible as his rage had been awhile ago. "I am not a Christian, you know, nor yet a gentleman. I cannot walk up either to my lord's castle or to one of these Christian Magyar peasants and strike him in the face for trying to rob me of that which is more precious to me than life. I am a Jew . . . a low-born, miserable Jew, whose whole race, origin and upbringing are despicable in the sight of the noble lords as well as of the Hungarian peasantry. Just a wretched creature whom one orders to hold one's horse, to brush one's boots, to stand out of one's way, anyhow; but not to meet as man to man, not to fight openly and frankly for the woman whom one loves. Well! You happen to be a Jewess too, and tokened to a Jew, and if either my lord or one of these d----d Magyar peasants chooses to come sneaking round you like a thief in the night, well . . ." He paused, and from the pocket of his shabby trousers he half drew out a long, sheathed hunting-knife, and then quickly hid it again from her sight. Klara smothered a desperate cry of terror. Leopold now turned his back on her; he went up to the table and seizing a carafe of water, he poured himself out a huge mugful and drank it down at a draught. The edge of the mug rattled against his teeth, his hand was trembling so that half the contents were poured down on his clothes. He did not look again on Klara, but having put the mug down, he passed his hand once or twice across his forehead as if to chase away some of those horrible thoughts which were still lurking in his brain. Then he took his cigarette-case out of his pocket, selected a cigarette, struck a match and lit it, still avoiding Klara's fixed and staring gaze. "I'll go and smoke this outside," he said quietly. "I can see both doors from the corner. When you have found that back-door key you may go to Elsa Kapus' wedding feast, but not before." He took a final look round the room, and his eyes, which had once more become dull and pale, rested with an infinite look of contempt upon the two or three besotted drunkards who, throughout this scene, had done no more than open and blink a sleepy eye. "Shall I turn these louts out for you now?" he asked. "No, no," she replied mechanically, "let them have their sleep. When they wake they'll go away all right." Just then the outer door was opened and Lakatos Andor's broad figure appeared upon the threshold. Leopold Hirsch gave him a nod, and without another look on Klara, he strode out into the night. CHAPTER XXI "Jealous, like a madman." "I came to see if B la was still here," said Andor, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold Hirsch. "One or two chaps whom I met awhile ago told me that he had not been seen in the barn this hour past, and that there was a lot of talk about it. I thought that if he were here, I could persuade you . . ." He paused, and looked more keenly at the girl. "What is it, Klara?" he asked; "you seem ill or upset . . ." She closed her eyes once or twice like someone just waking out of a dream, then she passed her hands over her forehead and over her hair. She felt completely dazed and stupid, as if she had received a stunning blow on the head, and while Andor talked she looked at him with staring eyes, not understanding a word that he said. "Yes--yes, Andor?" she said vaguely. "What can I do for you?" "Nothing much, my good Klara," he replied; "it was only about B la . . ." "Yes--about B la," she stammered; "won't . . . won't you sit down?" "Thank you, I will for a moment." She moved forward in order to get him a chair, but she found that she could not stand. The moment that she relinquished the prop of the wall, her knees gave way under her and she lurched forward against the table. She would have fallen had not Andor caught her and guided her to a chair, whereon she sank half fainting, with eyes closed and cheeks and lips the colour of ashes. Just for the moment the wild thought flew through his mind that she had been induced to drink by one of the men, but a closer look on her wan, pale face and into those dilated eyes of hers convinced him that the girl was in real and acute mental distress. He went up to the table and poured out a mug of wine, which he held to her lips. She drank eagerly, looking up at him the while with a strangely pathetic, eagerly appealing gaze. When he had taken the mug from her and replaced it on the table, he drew a chair close to her and said as kindly as he could, for he did not feel very well-disposed toward the girl who was the cause of much unhappiness to Elsa: "Now, Klara, you are going to tell me what is the matter with you." But already she had recovered herself a little, and Lakatos Andor's somewhat dictatorial tone grated upon her sensitive ear. "There's nothing the matter with me," she retorted, with a return of her habitual flippancy. "What should be the matter?" "I don't know," he said dryly; "and, of course, if you tell me that it's a private affair of your own and none of my business, why I'll be quite satisfied, and not ask any more questions. But if it's anything to do with B la . . ." "No, of course not," she broke in impatiently. "What should B la have to do with my affairs? B la has been gone from here this hour past." "And he is not coming back?" asked Andor searchingly. "I trust not," she replied fervently, and the young man noticed that the staring, terror-filled look once more crept into her eyes. "Very well, then," he said, rising, "that is all I wanted to know. I am sorry to have disturbed you. Good-night,

jeep

How many times the word 'jeep' appears in the text?

Fiume in half an hour." "To Fiume?" "Yes. You know he has a brother coming home from America." "I know that." "His ship is due in at Fiume the day after to-morrow. Leopold must start by the same train as your father to-night, in order to catch the express for Fiume at Budapesth to-morrow." "Did he tell you all that?" "I have known all along that he meant to meet his brother at Fiume, and yesterday he said something about it again. So you see, my pretty one, that we can have a comfortable little supper this evening without fear of interruption. We'll have it at ten o'clock, when the supper-party is going on at the barn, eh? We shan't be interrupted then. So give me that duplicate key, will you, and I can slip in quietly through the back door without raising a bit of gossip or scandal. Hurry up now! I shall have to be going." "I can't now," she protested. "Leopold hasn't taken his eyes off me all this time." "Oh! if that is all that is troubling you, my dear," said the young man coolly, "I can easily settle our friend Leopold. Hirsch!" he called loudly. "My lord?" queried the other, with the quick obsequiousness habitual to the down-trodden race. "My horse is kicking up such a row outside. I wish you'd just go and see if the boy is looking after him properly." Of course it was impossible to do anything but obey. My lord had commanded; in the ordinary way the poor Jew shopkeeper would have felt honoured to have been selected for individual recognition. Nor did he do more now than throw one of those swift looks of his--so full of hatred and of menace--upon Klara and the young man; but the latter, having given his orders, no longer condescended to take notice of the Jew and had once more engaged the girl in animated conversation. Had Klara thought of looking up when Leopold finally obeyed my lord's commands and went to look after the horse, she could not have failed to realize the danger which lurked in the young man's pale eyes then. His face, always pale and olive-tinted, was now the colour of ashes, grey and livid and blotched with purple, his lips looked white and quivering, and his eyebrows--of a reddish tinge--met above his nose in a deep, dark scowl. But my lord had thrown out a casual hint about a gold watch, and Klara had no further thought for her jealous admirer. "Now go and fetch the key," said Count Feri, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold. The hint of the gold watch had stirred Klara's pulses. A _t te- -t te_ with my lord was, moreover, greatly to her liking. He could be very amusing when he chose, and was always generous; and Klara's life was often dull and colourless. A pleasant evening spent in his company would compensate her in a measure for her disappointment at not being asked to Elsa's ball, and there was the gold watch to look forward to, above all. Taking an opportunity when her father was absorbed in his game of tarok, she went into the next room and presently returned with a key in her hand, which she surreptitiously gave to my lord. "Splendid!" exclaimed the young man gaily. "Klara, you are a gem, and after supper you shall just ask me for anything you have a fancy for, and I'll give it to you. Now I'd better go. Good-bye, little one. Ten o'clock sharp, eh?" "Ten o'clock," she repeated, under her breath. He strode to the door, outside which he found Leopold waiting for him. "The horse was quite quiet, my lord," said the Jew sullenly; "the boy had never left it for a moment." "Oh! that's all right, Hirsch," rejoined my lord indifferently. "I only wanted to know." Of course he never thought of saying a word of thanks or of excuse to the other man. What would you? A Jew! Bah! not even worth a nod of the head. Count Feri R kosy had quickly mounted his pretty, half-bred Arab mare--a click of the tongue and she was off with him, kicking up a cloud of dust in her wake. But Leopold Hirsch had remained for a moment standing on the doorstep of Ign cz Goldstein's house. He watched horse and rider through that cloud of dust, and along the straight and broad highway, until both had become a mere speck upon the low-lying horizon. "May you break your accursed neck!" he muttered fervently. Then he went back to the tap-room. CHAPTER XX "You happen to be of my race and of my blood." He strode at once to Klara, who greeted him with an ironical little smile and a coquettish look out of her dark eyes. "You never told me that you were going away to-night, my dear Leopold," she said suavely. "Who told you that I was?" he retorted savagely. "It seems to be pretty well known about the place. You seemed to have been talking about it pretty freely that you were going to Fiume to meet your brother when the ship he is on comes in." "I meant to tell you just now, only his lordship's arrival interrupted me," he said more quietly. "And since then you have been busy making a fool of yourself before my lord, eh?" she asked. "Bah!" "And compromising me into the bargain, what? But let me tell you this, my good Leopold, before we go any further, that I am not married to you yet, and that I don't like your airs of proprietorship, _sabe_?" He could not say anything more just then, for customers were departing, and she had to attend to them; he did not try to approach her while she was thus engaged, but presently, when her back was turned, he contrived to work his way across to the door which gave on the inner room, and to push it slightly open with his hand, until he could peep through the aperture and take a quick survey of the room beyond. Klara had not seen this manoeuvre of his, although she had cast more than one rapid and furtive glance upon him while she attended to her customers. She was thankful that he was going away for a few days; in his present mood he was positively dangerous. She had lighted the oil lamp which hung from the centre of the low, raftered ceiling, the hour was getting late, customers were all leaving now one by one. Er s B la was one of the last to go. He had drunk rather more silvorium than was good for him. He knew quite well that by absenting himself from the pre-nuptial festivals he had behaved in a disgraceful and unjustifiable manner which would surely be resented throughout the village, and though he was quite sure that he did not care one brass fill r what all those ignorant peasants thought of him, yet he felt it incumbent upon him to brace up his courage now, before meeting the hostile fusillade of eyes which would be sure to greet him on his return to the barn. He meant to put in a short appearance there, and then to finish his evening here in Klara's company. He felt that his dignity demanded that he should absent himself at any rate from the supper, seeing that Elsa had so grossly defied him. "At ten o'clock I'll be back, Klara," he whispered, in the girl's ear, as he was about to take his departure along with some of his friends, who also intended to go on to the dance in the barn. "Indeed you won't," she retorted decisively, "I have no use for you, my good B la. You are almost a married man now, remember!" she added with a laugh. "I'll bring those bottles of champagne," he urged; "don't be hard on me, Klara. I'll give you a good time to-night, and a nice present into the bargain." "And ruin my reputation for ever, eh? By walking into the tap-room when it's full of people and carrying two bottles of champagne under your arm--or staying on ostentatiously after everyone has gone and for everyone to gossip. No, thank you; I've already told you that I am not going to lend myself to your little games of vengeance. It isn't me you want, it's petty revenge upon Elsa. To that I say no, thank you, my good man." "Klara!" he pleaded. "No!" she said, and unceremoniously turned her back on him. He went off, sullen and morose, and not a little chaffed for his moroseness by his friends. The tap-room was almost deserted for the moment. In one or two corners only a few stragglers lingered; they were sprawling across the tables with arms outstretched. Ign cz Goldstein's silvorium had proved too potent and too plentiful. They lay there in a drunken sleep--logs that were of no account. Presently they would have to be thrown out, but there was no hurry for that--they were not in the way. Ign cz Goldstein had gone into the next room. Klara was busy tidying up the place; Leopold approached her with well-feigned contrition and humility. "I am sorry, Klara," he said. "I seemed to have had the knack to-night of constantly annoying you. So I'd best begone now, perhaps." "I bear no malice, Leo," she said quietly. "I thought I'd come back at about nine o'clock," he continued. "It is nearly eight now." She, thinking that he had his own journey in mind, remarked casually: "You'd best be here well before nine. The train leaves at nine-twenty, and father walks very slowly." "I won't be late," he said. "Best give me the key of the back door. I'll let myself in that way." "No occasion to do that," she retorted. "The front door will be open. You can come in that way like everybody else." "It's just a fancy," he said quietly; "there might be a lot of people about just then. I don't want to come through here. I thought I'd just slip in the back way as I often do. So give me the key, Klara, will you?" "How can I give you the key of the back door?" she said, equally quietly; "you know father always carries it in his coat pocket." "But there is a second key," he remarked, "which hangs on a nail by your father's bedside in the next room. Give me that one, Klara." "I shan't," she retorted. "I never heard such nonsense! As if I could allow you to use the private door of this house just as it suits your fancy. If you want to come in to-night and say good-bye, you must come in by the front door." "It's just a whim of mine, Klara," urged Leopold, now still speaking quietly--almost under his breath--but there was an ominous tremor in his voice and sudden sharp gleams in his eyes which the girl had already noted and which caused the blood to rush back to her heart, leaving her cheeks pale and her lips trembling. "Nonsense!" she contrived to say, with an indifferent shrug of the shoulders. "Just a whim," he reiterated. "So I'll take the key, by your leave." He turned to the door of the inner room and pushed it open, just as he had done awhile ago, and now--as then--he cast a rapid glance round the room. Klara, through half-closed lids, watched his every movement. "Why!" he exclaimed, turning back to her, and with a look of well-feigned surprise, "the key is not in its place." "I know it isn't," she retorted curtly. "Then where is it?" "I have put it away." "When? It was hanging on its usual nail when I first came here this afternoon. I remember the door being open, and my glancing into the room casually. I am sure it was there then." "It may have been: but I put it away after that." "Why should you have done that?" "I don't know, and, anyhow, it's no business of yours, is it?" "Give me that back-door key, Klara," insisted the young man, in a tone of savage command. "No!" she replied, slowly and decisively. There was silence in the little, low raftered room after that, a silence only broken by the buzzing of flies against the white globe of the lamp, and by the snores of the sleepers who sprawled across the tables. Leopold Hirsch had drawn in his breath with a low, hissing sound; his face, by the yellow light of the lamp, looked ghastly in colour, and his hands were twitching convulsively as the trembling fingers clenched and opened with a monotonous, jerky movement of attempted self-control. Klara had not failed to notice these symptoms of an agony of mind which the young man was so vainly trying to hide from her. For the moment she almost felt sorry for him--sorry and slightly remorseful. After all, Leo's frame of mind, the agony which he endured, came from the strength of his love for her. Neither Er s B la, nor the young Count, nor the many admirers who had hung round her in the past until such time as their fancy found more permanent anchorage elsewhere, would have suffered tortures of soul and of heart because she had indulged in a mild flirtation with a rival. Er s B la would have stormed and cursed, the young Count would have laid his riding-whip across the shoulders of his successful rival and there would have been an end of the matter. Leopold Hirsch would go down to hell and endure the torments of the damned, then return to heaven at a smile from her, and go back to hell again and glory in his misery. But just now she was frightened of him; he looked almost like a living corpse; the skin on his face was drawn so tightly over the bones that it gave him the appearance of a skull with hollow eyes and wide, grinning mouth. Outside an owl hooted dismally. Klara gave a slight shiver of fear and looked furtively round her to see if any of the drunkards were awake. Then she recollected that her father was in the next room, and presently, from afar, came shouts of laughter and the sound of music. She woke as from a nightmare, gave her fine shoulders a little shake, and looked boldly into her jealous lover's face. "By the Lord, Leo!" she said, with a little forced laugh, "you have given me the creeps, looking as you do. How dare you frighten me like that? With your clenched hands, too, as if you wanted to murder me. There, now, don't be such a silly fool. You have got a long journey before you; it's no use making yourself sick with jealousy just before you go." "I am not going on a journey," he said, in a toneless, even voice, which seemed to come from a grave. "Not going?" she said, with a frown of puzzlement. "You were going to Fiume to meet your brother, don't you remember? The ship he is on is due in the day after to-morrow. If you don't start to-night you won't be able to catch the express at Budapesth to-morrow." "I know all that," he said, in the same dull, monotonous tone; "I am not going, that's all." "But . . ." "I have changed my mind. Your father is going away. I must watch over you to see that no one molests you. Thieves might want to break in . . . one never knows . . . anyhow, my brother can look after himself . . . I stay to look after you." For a moment or two she stood quite still, her senses strained to grasp the meaning, the purport of the present situation--this madman on the watch outside--the young Count, key in hand, swaggering up to the back door at ten o'clock, when most folk would be at supper in the barn, her father gone, the village street wrapped in darkness! Leopold, by a violent and sudden effort, had regained mastery over the muscles of his face and hands, these no longer twitched now, and he answered her look of mute inquiry with one of well-feigned quietude. Only his breath he could not control, it passed through his throat with a stertorous sound, and every now and then he had to pass his tongue over his dry, cracked lips. Thus they stood for a moment eye to eye; and what she read in his glance caused a nameless fear to strike at her heart and to paralyse her will. But the next instant she had recovered her presence of mind. With quick, febrile movements she had already taken off her apron and with her hands smoothed her unruly dark hair. Then she made for the door. Less than a second and already he had guessed her purpose: before she could reach the door he had his back against it and his nervy fingers had grasped her wrist. "Where are you going?" "Out," she said curtly. "What for?" "That's none of your business." "What for?" he reiterated hoarsely. "Let go my wrist," she exclaimed, "you are hurting me." "I'll hurt you worse," he cried, in a broken voice, "if you cross this threshold to-night." But he released her wrist, and she, wrathful, indignant, terrified, retreated to the other end of the room. "Go out by the back door," he sneered, "if you want to go out. You have the key, haven't you?" "My father . . ." she began. "Yes!" he said. "Go and tell your father that I, Leopold Hirsch, your affianced husband, am browbeating you--making a scene, what?--because you have made an assignation with my lord the young Count, here--at night--under your father's roof--under the roof of a child of Israel! You! An assignation with a dirty Christian! . . . Bah! Go and tell your father that! And he will thrash you to within an inch of your life! We are Jews, he and I, and hold the honour of our women sacred--more sacred than their life!" "Don't be a fool, Leopold," she cried, feeling that indeed, between her father and this madman, her life had ceased to be safe. She looked round her helplessly. Three or four besotted fools lying helpless across the tables, and all the village dancing and making merry some two hundred m tres away, her father--implacable, as she well knew, where her conduct was concerned--and this madman ready to kill to satisfy his lust of vengeance and of hate--she felt that indeed, unless Heaven performed a miracle, here was the beginning of an awful, an irredeemable tragedy. "Leopold, don't be a fool," she reiterated, trying with all her might not to appear frightened or scared or confused. "I have promised Kapus Elsa to go to her dance for half an hour. I had forgotten all about it. I must go now." "Go and change your dress, then," he retorted with a sneer, "then you can go out by the back way. You have put the key away somewhere, haven't you? You know where it is." "You are mad about doors to-night. I tell you I am going out now, by that front door--at once." "And I tell you," he said, slowly and deliberately, "that if you cross the front door step I will call your father and tell him that you go and meet your lover--a Christian lover--the young Count--who would as soon think of marrying you as he would a nigger or a kitchen slut. Before you will have reached the high road your father and I will be on your heels, and either he or I will strangle you ere you come within sight of my lord's castle." "You are mad!" she cried. "Or else an idiot." "Better look for that back-door key," he retorted. "What has the back-door key to do with it?" she asked sullenly. "Only this," he replied, "that while that monkey-faced dog of a Christian was whispering to you just now, I know that the key was hanging on its usual peg, but I heard something about 'supper' and about 'ten o'clock.' May he break his neck, I say, and save me the job. Then he ordered me out of the room. Oh! I guessed! I am no fool, you know! When I came back I looked into your father's room--the key was gone, and I knew. And what I say is, why can't he come in by the front door like a man, if he has nothing to hide? Why must you let him come in like a thief by a back-door, if you have nothing to be ashamed of? The tap-room is open to anybody. Anybody can walk in and get a drink if they want to. Then why this whispering and this sneaking?" He was working himself up to a greater and ever greater passion of fury. He kept his voice low because he didn't want Ign cz Goldstein to hear--not just yet, at any rate--for Ign cz was a hard man and a stern father, and God only knew what he might not do if he was roused. Leopold did not want Klara hurt--not yet, at any rate--not until he was quite sure that she meant to play him altogether false. She was vain and frivolous, over-fond of dress and of queening it over the peasant girls of the village, but there was no real harm in her. She was immensely flattered by the young Count's attentions and over-ready to accept his presents in exchange for kisses and whisperings behind closed doors, but there was no real harm in her--so at least Leopold Hirsch kept repeating to himself time and again, whenever jealousy gnawed at his heart more roughly than he could endure. Just now that torment was almost unbearable, and the passion of fury into which he had worked himself blinded him momentarily to the dull, aching pain. Klara, as he spoke thus hoarsely, and brought his contorted face closer and closer to hers, had gradually shrunk more and more into the corner of the room, and there she remained now, flattened against the wall, her wide-open, terror-filled eyes fixed staringly upon this raving madman. "You asked just now," he continued, in the same hoarse, guttural whisper, which seemed literally to be racking and tearing his throat as it came, "what the back-door key had to do with my not going to meet my brother at Fiume. Well! It has this much to do with it, that you happen to be my tokened wife, that you happen to be of my race and of my blood, a sober, clean-living Jewess, please God, and not one of those frivolous, empty-headed Christian girls--you are that now, I know; if you were not I would kill you first and myself afterwards: therefore, if to-night I catch a thief--any thief, I don't care who he is--sneaking into this house by a back door when you happen to be here alone and seemingly unprotected, if I catch any kind of thief or malefactor, I say . . ." He paused, and she, through teeth that chattered, contrived to murmur: "Well? What do you say? Why don't you go on?" "Because you understand," he said, with calm as sudden and as terrible as his rage had been awhile ago. "I am not a Christian, you know, nor yet a gentleman. I cannot walk up either to my lord's castle or to one of these Christian Magyar peasants and strike him in the face for trying to rob me of that which is more precious to me than life. I am a Jew . . . a low-born, miserable Jew, whose whole race, origin and upbringing are despicable in the sight of the noble lords as well as of the Hungarian peasantry. Just a wretched creature whom one orders to hold one's horse, to brush one's boots, to stand out of one's way, anyhow; but not to meet as man to man, not to fight openly and frankly for the woman whom one loves. Well! You happen to be a Jewess too, and tokened to a Jew, and if either my lord or one of these d----d Magyar peasants chooses to come sneaking round you like a thief in the night, well . . ." He paused, and from the pocket of his shabby trousers he half drew out a long, sheathed hunting-knife, and then quickly hid it again from her sight. Klara smothered a desperate cry of terror. Leopold now turned his back on her; he went up to the table and seizing a carafe of water, he poured himself out a huge mugful and drank it down at a draught. The edge of the mug rattled against his teeth, his hand was trembling so that half the contents were poured down on his clothes. He did not look again on Klara, but having put the mug down, he passed his hand once or twice across his forehead as if to chase away some of those horrible thoughts which were still lurking in his brain. Then he took his cigarette-case out of his pocket, selected a cigarette, struck a match and lit it, still avoiding Klara's fixed and staring gaze. "I'll go and smoke this outside," he said quietly. "I can see both doors from the corner. When you have found that back-door key you may go to Elsa Kapus' wedding feast, but not before." He took a final look round the room, and his eyes, which had once more become dull and pale, rested with an infinite look of contempt upon the two or three besotted drunkards who, throughout this scene, had done no more than open and blink a sleepy eye. "Shall I turn these louts out for you now?" he asked. "No, no," she replied mechanically, "let them have their sleep. When they wake they'll go away all right." Just then the outer door was opened and Lakatos Andor's broad figure appeared upon the threshold. Leopold Hirsch gave him a nod, and without another look on Klara, he strode out into the night. CHAPTER XXI "Jealous, like a madman." "I came to see if B la was still here," said Andor, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold Hirsch. "One or two chaps whom I met awhile ago told me that he had not been seen in the barn this hour past, and that there was a lot of talk about it. I thought that if he were here, I could persuade you . . ." He paused, and looked more keenly at the girl. "What is it, Klara?" he asked; "you seem ill or upset . . ." She closed her eyes once or twice like someone just waking out of a dream, then she passed her hands over her forehead and over her hair. She felt completely dazed and stupid, as if she had received a stunning blow on the head, and while Andor talked she looked at him with staring eyes, not understanding a word that he said. "Yes--yes, Andor?" she said vaguely. "What can I do for you?" "Nothing much, my good Klara," he replied; "it was only about B la . . ." "Yes--about B la," she stammered; "won't . . . won't you sit down?" "Thank you, I will for a moment." She moved forward in order to get him a chair, but she found that she could not stand. The moment that she relinquished the prop of the wall, her knees gave way under her and she lurched forward against the table. She would have fallen had not Andor caught her and guided her to a chair, whereon she sank half fainting, with eyes closed and cheeks and lips the colour of ashes. Just for the moment the wild thought flew through his mind that she had been induced to drink by one of the men, but a closer look on her wan, pale face and into those dilated eyes of hers convinced him that the girl was in real and acute mental distress. He went up to the table and poured out a mug of wine, which he held to her lips. She drank eagerly, looking up at him the while with a strangely pathetic, eagerly appealing gaze. When he had taken the mug from her and replaced it on the table, he drew a chair close to her and said as kindly as he could, for he did not feel very well-disposed toward the girl who was the cause of much unhappiness to Elsa: "Now, Klara, you are going to tell me what is the matter with you." But already she had recovered herself a little, and Lakatos Andor's somewhat dictatorial tone grated upon her sensitive ear. "There's nothing the matter with me," she retorted, with a return of her habitual flippancy. "What should be the matter?" "I don't know," he said dryly; "and, of course, if you tell me that it's a private affair of your own and none of my business, why I'll be quite satisfied, and not ask any more questions. But if it's anything to do with B la . . ." "No, of course not," she broke in impatiently. "What should B la have to do with my affairs? B la has been gone from here this hour past." "And he is not coming back?" asked Andor searchingly. "I trust not," she replied fervently, and the young man noticed that the staring, terror-filled look once more crept into her eyes. "Very well, then," he said, rising, "that is all I wanted to know. I am sorry to have disturbed you. Good-night,

rapid

How many times the word 'rapid' appears in the text?

Fiume in half an hour." "To Fiume?" "Yes. You know he has a brother coming home from America." "I know that." "His ship is due in at Fiume the day after to-morrow. Leopold must start by the same train as your father to-night, in order to catch the express for Fiume at Budapesth to-morrow." "Did he tell you all that?" "I have known all along that he meant to meet his brother at Fiume, and yesterday he said something about it again. So you see, my pretty one, that we can have a comfortable little supper this evening without fear of interruption. We'll have it at ten o'clock, when the supper-party is going on at the barn, eh? We shan't be interrupted then. So give me that duplicate key, will you, and I can slip in quietly through the back door without raising a bit of gossip or scandal. Hurry up now! I shall have to be going." "I can't now," she protested. "Leopold hasn't taken his eyes off me all this time." "Oh! if that is all that is troubling you, my dear," said the young man coolly, "I can easily settle our friend Leopold. Hirsch!" he called loudly. "My lord?" queried the other, with the quick obsequiousness habitual to the down-trodden race. "My horse is kicking up such a row outside. I wish you'd just go and see if the boy is looking after him properly." Of course it was impossible to do anything but obey. My lord had commanded; in the ordinary way the poor Jew shopkeeper would have felt honoured to have been selected for individual recognition. Nor did he do more now than throw one of those swift looks of his--so full of hatred and of menace--upon Klara and the young man; but the latter, having given his orders, no longer condescended to take notice of the Jew and had once more engaged the girl in animated conversation. Had Klara thought of looking up when Leopold finally obeyed my lord's commands and went to look after the horse, she could not have failed to realize the danger which lurked in the young man's pale eyes then. His face, always pale and olive-tinted, was now the colour of ashes, grey and livid and blotched with purple, his lips looked white and quivering, and his eyebrows--of a reddish tinge--met above his nose in a deep, dark scowl. But my lord had thrown out a casual hint about a gold watch, and Klara had no further thought for her jealous admirer. "Now go and fetch the key," said Count Feri, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold. The hint of the gold watch had stirred Klara's pulses. A _t te- -t te_ with my lord was, moreover, greatly to her liking. He could be very amusing when he chose, and was always generous; and Klara's life was often dull and colourless. A pleasant evening spent in his company would compensate her in a measure for her disappointment at not being asked to Elsa's ball, and there was the gold watch to look forward to, above all. Taking an opportunity when her father was absorbed in his game of tarok, she went into the next room and presently returned with a key in her hand, which she surreptitiously gave to my lord. "Splendid!" exclaimed the young man gaily. "Klara, you are a gem, and after supper you shall just ask me for anything you have a fancy for, and I'll give it to you. Now I'd better go. Good-bye, little one. Ten o'clock sharp, eh?" "Ten o'clock," she repeated, under her breath. He strode to the door, outside which he found Leopold waiting for him. "The horse was quite quiet, my lord," said the Jew sullenly; "the boy had never left it for a moment." "Oh! that's all right, Hirsch," rejoined my lord indifferently. "I only wanted to know." Of course he never thought of saying a word of thanks or of excuse to the other man. What would you? A Jew! Bah! not even worth a nod of the head. Count Feri R kosy had quickly mounted his pretty, half-bred Arab mare--a click of the tongue and she was off with him, kicking up a cloud of dust in her wake. But Leopold Hirsch had remained for a moment standing on the doorstep of Ign cz Goldstein's house. He watched horse and rider through that cloud of dust, and along the straight and broad highway, until both had become a mere speck upon the low-lying horizon. "May you break your accursed neck!" he muttered fervently. Then he went back to the tap-room. CHAPTER XX "You happen to be of my race and of my blood." He strode at once to Klara, who greeted him with an ironical little smile and a coquettish look out of her dark eyes. "You never told me that you were going away to-night, my dear Leopold," she said suavely. "Who told you that I was?" he retorted savagely. "It seems to be pretty well known about the place. You seemed to have been talking about it pretty freely that you were going to Fiume to meet your brother when the ship he is on comes in." "I meant to tell you just now, only his lordship's arrival interrupted me," he said more quietly. "And since then you have been busy making a fool of yourself before my lord, eh?" she asked. "Bah!" "And compromising me into the bargain, what? But let me tell you this, my good Leopold, before we go any further, that I am not married to you yet, and that I don't like your airs of proprietorship, _sabe_?" He could not say anything more just then, for customers were departing, and she had to attend to them; he did not try to approach her while she was thus engaged, but presently, when her back was turned, he contrived to work his way across to the door which gave on the inner room, and to push it slightly open with his hand, until he could peep through the aperture and take a quick survey of the room beyond. Klara had not seen this manoeuvre of his, although she had cast more than one rapid and furtive glance upon him while she attended to her customers. She was thankful that he was going away for a few days; in his present mood he was positively dangerous. She had lighted the oil lamp which hung from the centre of the low, raftered ceiling, the hour was getting late, customers were all leaving now one by one. Er s B la was one of the last to go. He had drunk rather more silvorium than was good for him. He knew quite well that by absenting himself from the pre-nuptial festivals he had behaved in a disgraceful and unjustifiable manner which would surely be resented throughout the village, and though he was quite sure that he did not care one brass fill r what all those ignorant peasants thought of him, yet he felt it incumbent upon him to brace up his courage now, before meeting the hostile fusillade of eyes which would be sure to greet him on his return to the barn. He meant to put in a short appearance there, and then to finish his evening here in Klara's company. He felt that his dignity demanded that he should absent himself at any rate from the supper, seeing that Elsa had so grossly defied him. "At ten o'clock I'll be back, Klara," he whispered, in the girl's ear, as he was about to take his departure along with some of his friends, who also intended to go on to the dance in the barn. "Indeed you won't," she retorted decisively, "I have no use for you, my good B la. You are almost a married man now, remember!" she added with a laugh. "I'll bring those bottles of champagne," he urged; "don't be hard on me, Klara. I'll give you a good time to-night, and a nice present into the bargain." "And ruin my reputation for ever, eh? By walking into the tap-room when it's full of people and carrying two bottles of champagne under your arm--or staying on ostentatiously after everyone has gone and for everyone to gossip. No, thank you; I've already told you that I am not going to lend myself to your little games of vengeance. It isn't me you want, it's petty revenge upon Elsa. To that I say no, thank you, my good man." "Klara!" he pleaded. "No!" she said, and unceremoniously turned her back on him. He went off, sullen and morose, and not a little chaffed for his moroseness by his friends. The tap-room was almost deserted for the moment. In one or two corners only a few stragglers lingered; they were sprawling across the tables with arms outstretched. Ign cz Goldstein's silvorium had proved too potent and too plentiful. They lay there in a drunken sleep--logs that were of no account. Presently they would have to be thrown out, but there was no hurry for that--they were not in the way. Ign cz Goldstein had gone into the next room. Klara was busy tidying up the place; Leopold approached her with well-feigned contrition and humility. "I am sorry, Klara," he said. "I seemed to have had the knack to-night of constantly annoying you. So I'd best begone now, perhaps." "I bear no malice, Leo," she said quietly. "I thought I'd come back at about nine o'clock," he continued. "It is nearly eight now." She, thinking that he had his own journey in mind, remarked casually: "You'd best be here well before nine. The train leaves at nine-twenty, and father walks very slowly." "I won't be late," he said. "Best give me the key of the back door. I'll let myself in that way." "No occasion to do that," she retorted. "The front door will be open. You can come in that way like everybody else." "It's just a fancy," he said quietly; "there might be a lot of people about just then. I don't want to come through here. I thought I'd just slip in the back way as I often do. So give me the key, Klara, will you?" "How can I give you the key of the back door?" she said, equally quietly; "you know father always carries it in his coat pocket." "But there is a second key," he remarked, "which hangs on a nail by your father's bedside in the next room. Give me that one, Klara." "I shan't," she retorted. "I never heard such nonsense! As if I could allow you to use the private door of this house just as it suits your fancy. If you want to come in to-night and say good-bye, you must come in by the front door." "It's just a whim of mine, Klara," urged Leopold, now still speaking quietly--almost under his breath--but there was an ominous tremor in his voice and sudden sharp gleams in his eyes which the girl had already noted and which caused the blood to rush back to her heart, leaving her cheeks pale and her lips trembling. "Nonsense!" she contrived to say, with an indifferent shrug of the shoulders. "Just a whim," he reiterated. "So I'll take the key, by your leave." He turned to the door of the inner room and pushed it open, just as he had done awhile ago, and now--as then--he cast a rapid glance round the room. Klara, through half-closed lids, watched his every movement. "Why!" he exclaimed, turning back to her, and with a look of well-feigned surprise, "the key is not in its place." "I know it isn't," she retorted curtly. "Then where is it?" "I have put it away." "When? It was hanging on its usual nail when I first came here this afternoon. I remember the door being open, and my glancing into the room casually. I am sure it was there then." "It may have been: but I put it away after that." "Why should you have done that?" "I don't know, and, anyhow, it's no business of yours, is it?" "Give me that back-door key, Klara," insisted the young man, in a tone of savage command. "No!" she replied, slowly and decisively. There was silence in the little, low raftered room after that, a silence only broken by the buzzing of flies against the white globe of the lamp, and by the snores of the sleepers who sprawled across the tables. Leopold Hirsch had drawn in his breath with a low, hissing sound; his face, by the yellow light of the lamp, looked ghastly in colour, and his hands were twitching convulsively as the trembling fingers clenched and opened with a monotonous, jerky movement of attempted self-control. Klara had not failed to notice these symptoms of an agony of mind which the young man was so vainly trying to hide from her. For the moment she almost felt sorry for him--sorry and slightly remorseful. After all, Leo's frame of mind, the agony which he endured, came from the strength of his love for her. Neither Er s B la, nor the young Count, nor the many admirers who had hung round her in the past until such time as their fancy found more permanent anchorage elsewhere, would have suffered tortures of soul and of heart because she had indulged in a mild flirtation with a rival. Er s B la would have stormed and cursed, the young Count would have laid his riding-whip across the shoulders of his successful rival and there would have been an end of the matter. Leopold Hirsch would go down to hell and endure the torments of the damned, then return to heaven at a smile from her, and go back to hell again and glory in his misery. But just now she was frightened of him; he looked almost like a living corpse; the skin on his face was drawn so tightly over the bones that it gave him the appearance of a skull with hollow eyes and wide, grinning mouth. Outside an owl hooted dismally. Klara gave a slight shiver of fear and looked furtively round her to see if any of the drunkards were awake. Then she recollected that her father was in the next room, and presently, from afar, came shouts of laughter and the sound of music. She woke as from a nightmare, gave her fine shoulders a little shake, and looked boldly into her jealous lover's face. "By the Lord, Leo!" she said, with a little forced laugh, "you have given me the creeps, looking as you do. How dare you frighten me like that? With your clenched hands, too, as if you wanted to murder me. There, now, don't be such a silly fool. You have got a long journey before you; it's no use making yourself sick with jealousy just before you go." "I am not going on a journey," he said, in a toneless, even voice, which seemed to come from a grave. "Not going?" she said, with a frown of puzzlement. "You were going to Fiume to meet your brother, don't you remember? The ship he is on is due in the day after to-morrow. If you don't start to-night you won't be able to catch the express at Budapesth to-morrow." "I know all that," he said, in the same dull, monotonous tone; "I am not going, that's all." "But . . ." "I have changed my mind. Your father is going away. I must watch over you to see that no one molests you. Thieves might want to break in . . . one never knows . . . anyhow, my brother can look after himself . . . I stay to look after you." For a moment or two she stood quite still, her senses strained to grasp the meaning, the purport of the present situation--this madman on the watch outside--the young Count, key in hand, swaggering up to the back door at ten o'clock, when most folk would be at supper in the barn, her father gone, the village street wrapped in darkness! Leopold, by a violent and sudden effort, had regained mastery over the muscles of his face and hands, these no longer twitched now, and he answered her look of mute inquiry with one of well-feigned quietude. Only his breath he could not control, it passed through his throat with a stertorous sound, and every now and then he had to pass his tongue over his dry, cracked lips. Thus they stood for a moment eye to eye; and what she read in his glance caused a nameless fear to strike at her heart and to paralyse her will. But the next instant she had recovered her presence of mind. With quick, febrile movements she had already taken off her apron and with her hands smoothed her unruly dark hair. Then she made for the door. Less than a second and already he had guessed her purpose: before she could reach the door he had his back against it and his nervy fingers had grasped her wrist. "Where are you going?" "Out," she said curtly. "What for?" "That's none of your business." "What for?" he reiterated hoarsely. "Let go my wrist," she exclaimed, "you are hurting me." "I'll hurt you worse," he cried, in a broken voice, "if you cross this threshold to-night." But he released her wrist, and she, wrathful, indignant, terrified, retreated to the other end of the room. "Go out by the back door," he sneered, "if you want to go out. You have the key, haven't you?" "My father . . ." she began. "Yes!" he said. "Go and tell your father that I, Leopold Hirsch, your affianced husband, am browbeating you--making a scene, what?--because you have made an assignation with my lord the young Count, here--at night--under your father's roof--under the roof of a child of Israel! You! An assignation with a dirty Christian! . . . Bah! Go and tell your father that! And he will thrash you to within an inch of your life! We are Jews, he and I, and hold the honour of our women sacred--more sacred than their life!" "Don't be a fool, Leopold," she cried, feeling that indeed, between her father and this madman, her life had ceased to be safe. She looked round her helplessly. Three or four besotted fools lying helpless across the tables, and all the village dancing and making merry some two hundred m tres away, her father--implacable, as she well knew, where her conduct was concerned--and this madman ready to kill to satisfy his lust of vengeance and of hate--she felt that indeed, unless Heaven performed a miracle, here was the beginning of an awful, an irredeemable tragedy. "Leopold, don't be a fool," she reiterated, trying with all her might not to appear frightened or scared or confused. "I have promised Kapus Elsa to go to her dance for half an hour. I had forgotten all about it. I must go now." "Go and change your dress, then," he retorted with a sneer, "then you can go out by the back way. You have put the key away somewhere, haven't you? You know where it is." "You are mad about doors to-night. I tell you I am going out now, by that front door--at once." "And I tell you," he said, slowly and deliberately, "that if you cross the front door step I will call your father and tell him that you go and meet your lover--a Christian lover--the young Count--who would as soon think of marrying you as he would a nigger or a kitchen slut. Before you will have reached the high road your father and I will be on your heels, and either he or I will strangle you ere you come within sight of my lord's castle." "You are mad!" she cried. "Or else an idiot." "Better look for that back-door key," he retorted. "What has the back-door key to do with it?" she asked sullenly. "Only this," he replied, "that while that monkey-faced dog of a Christian was whispering to you just now, I know that the key was hanging on its usual peg, but I heard something about 'supper' and about 'ten o'clock.' May he break his neck, I say, and save me the job. Then he ordered me out of the room. Oh! I guessed! I am no fool, you know! When I came back I looked into your father's room--the key was gone, and I knew. And what I say is, why can't he come in by the front door like a man, if he has nothing to hide? Why must you let him come in like a thief by a back-door, if you have nothing to be ashamed of? The tap-room is open to anybody. Anybody can walk in and get a drink if they want to. Then why this whispering and this sneaking?" He was working himself up to a greater and ever greater passion of fury. He kept his voice low because he didn't want Ign cz Goldstein to hear--not just yet, at any rate--for Ign cz was a hard man and a stern father, and God only knew what he might not do if he was roused. Leopold did not want Klara hurt--not yet, at any rate--not until he was quite sure that she meant to play him altogether false. She was vain and frivolous, over-fond of dress and of queening it over the peasant girls of the village, but there was no real harm in her. She was immensely flattered by the young Count's attentions and over-ready to accept his presents in exchange for kisses and whisperings behind closed doors, but there was no real harm in her--so at least Leopold Hirsch kept repeating to himself time and again, whenever jealousy gnawed at his heart more roughly than he could endure. Just now that torment was almost unbearable, and the passion of fury into which he had worked himself blinded him momentarily to the dull, aching pain. Klara, as he spoke thus hoarsely, and brought his contorted face closer and closer to hers, had gradually shrunk more and more into the corner of the room, and there she remained now, flattened against the wall, her wide-open, terror-filled eyes fixed staringly upon this raving madman. "You asked just now," he continued, in the same hoarse, guttural whisper, which seemed literally to be racking and tearing his throat as it came, "what the back-door key had to do with my not going to meet my brother at Fiume. Well! It has this much to do with it, that you happen to be my tokened wife, that you happen to be of my race and of my blood, a sober, clean-living Jewess, please God, and not one of those frivolous, empty-headed Christian girls--you are that now, I know; if you were not I would kill you first and myself afterwards: therefore, if to-night I catch a thief--any thief, I don't care who he is--sneaking into this house by a back door when you happen to be here alone and seemingly unprotected, if I catch any kind of thief or malefactor, I say . . ." He paused, and she, through teeth that chattered, contrived to murmur: "Well? What do you say? Why don't you go on?" "Because you understand," he said, with calm as sudden and as terrible as his rage had been awhile ago. "I am not a Christian, you know, nor yet a gentleman. I cannot walk up either to my lord's castle or to one of these Christian Magyar peasants and strike him in the face for trying to rob me of that which is more precious to me than life. I am a Jew . . . a low-born, miserable Jew, whose whole race, origin and upbringing are despicable in the sight of the noble lords as well as of the Hungarian peasantry. Just a wretched creature whom one orders to hold one's horse, to brush one's boots, to stand out of one's way, anyhow; but not to meet as man to man, not to fight openly and frankly for the woman whom one loves. Well! You happen to be a Jewess too, and tokened to a Jew, and if either my lord or one of these d----d Magyar peasants chooses to come sneaking round you like a thief in the night, well . . ." He paused, and from the pocket of his shabby trousers he half drew out a long, sheathed hunting-knife, and then quickly hid it again from her sight. Klara smothered a desperate cry of terror. Leopold now turned his back on her; he went up to the table and seizing a carafe of water, he poured himself out a huge mugful and drank it down at a draught. The edge of the mug rattled against his teeth, his hand was trembling so that half the contents were poured down on his clothes. He did not look again on Klara, but having put the mug down, he passed his hand once or twice across his forehead as if to chase away some of those horrible thoughts which were still lurking in his brain. Then he took his cigarette-case out of his pocket, selected a cigarette, struck a match and lit it, still avoiding Klara's fixed and staring gaze. "I'll go and smoke this outside," he said quietly. "I can see both doors from the corner. When you have found that back-door key you may go to Elsa Kapus' wedding feast, but not before." He took a final look round the room, and his eyes, which had once more become dull and pale, rested with an infinite look of contempt upon the two or three besotted drunkards who, throughout this scene, had done no more than open and blink a sleepy eye. "Shall I turn these louts out for you now?" he asked. "No, no," she replied mechanically, "let them have their sleep. When they wake they'll go away all right." Just then the outer door was opened and Lakatos Andor's broad figure appeared upon the threshold. Leopold Hirsch gave him a nod, and without another look on Klara, he strode out into the night. CHAPTER XXI "Jealous, like a madman." "I came to see if B la was still here," said Andor, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold Hirsch. "One or two chaps whom I met awhile ago told me that he had not been seen in the barn this hour past, and that there was a lot of talk about it. I thought that if he were here, I could persuade you . . ." He paused, and looked more keenly at the girl. "What is it, Klara?" he asked; "you seem ill or upset . . ." She closed her eyes once or twice like someone just waking out of a dream, then she passed her hands over her forehead and over her hair. She felt completely dazed and stupid, as if she had received a stunning blow on the head, and while Andor talked she looked at him with staring eyes, not understanding a word that he said. "Yes--yes, Andor?" she said vaguely. "What can I do for you?" "Nothing much, my good Klara," he replied; "it was only about B la . . ." "Yes--about B la," she stammered; "won't . . . won't you sit down?" "Thank you, I will for a moment." She moved forward in order to get him a chair, but she found that she could not stand. The moment that she relinquished the prop of the wall, her knees gave way under her and she lurched forward against the table. She would have fallen had not Andor caught her and guided her to a chair, whereon she sank half fainting, with eyes closed and cheeks and lips the colour of ashes. Just for the moment the wild thought flew through his mind that she had been induced to drink by one of the men, but a closer look on her wan, pale face and into those dilated eyes of hers convinced him that the girl was in real and acute mental distress. He went up to the table and poured out a mug of wine, which he held to her lips. She drank eagerly, looking up at him the while with a strangely pathetic, eagerly appealing gaze. When he had taken the mug from her and replaced it on the table, he drew a chair close to her and said as kindly as he could, for he did not feel very well-disposed toward the girl who was the cause of much unhappiness to Elsa: "Now, Klara, you are going to tell me what is the matter with you." But already she had recovered herself a little, and Lakatos Andor's somewhat dictatorial tone grated upon her sensitive ear. "There's nothing the matter with me," she retorted, with a return of her habitual flippancy. "What should be the matter?" "I don't know," he said dryly; "and, of course, if you tell me that it's a private affair of your own and none of my business, why I'll be quite satisfied, and not ask any more questions. But if it's anything to do with B la . . ." "No, of course not," she broke in impatiently. "What should B la have to do with my affairs? B la has been gone from here this hour past." "And he is not coming back?" asked Andor searchingly. "I trust not," she replied fervently, and the young man noticed that the staring, terror-filled look once more crept into her eyes. "Very well, then," he said, rising, "that is all I wanted to know. I am sorry to have disturbed you. Good-night,

ermine

How many times the word 'ermine' appears in the text?

Fiume in half an hour." "To Fiume?" "Yes. You know he has a brother coming home from America." "I know that." "His ship is due in at Fiume the day after to-morrow. Leopold must start by the same train as your father to-night, in order to catch the express for Fiume at Budapesth to-morrow." "Did he tell you all that?" "I have known all along that he meant to meet his brother at Fiume, and yesterday he said something about it again. So you see, my pretty one, that we can have a comfortable little supper this evening without fear of interruption. We'll have it at ten o'clock, when the supper-party is going on at the barn, eh? We shan't be interrupted then. So give me that duplicate key, will you, and I can slip in quietly through the back door without raising a bit of gossip or scandal. Hurry up now! I shall have to be going." "I can't now," she protested. "Leopold hasn't taken his eyes off me all this time." "Oh! if that is all that is troubling you, my dear," said the young man coolly, "I can easily settle our friend Leopold. Hirsch!" he called loudly. "My lord?" queried the other, with the quick obsequiousness habitual to the down-trodden race. "My horse is kicking up such a row outside. I wish you'd just go and see if the boy is looking after him properly." Of course it was impossible to do anything but obey. My lord had commanded; in the ordinary way the poor Jew shopkeeper would have felt honoured to have been selected for individual recognition. Nor did he do more now than throw one of those swift looks of his--so full of hatred and of menace--upon Klara and the young man; but the latter, having given his orders, no longer condescended to take notice of the Jew and had once more engaged the girl in animated conversation. Had Klara thought of looking up when Leopold finally obeyed my lord's commands and went to look after the horse, she could not have failed to realize the danger which lurked in the young man's pale eyes then. His face, always pale and olive-tinted, was now the colour of ashes, grey and livid and blotched with purple, his lips looked white and quivering, and his eyebrows--of a reddish tinge--met above his nose in a deep, dark scowl. But my lord had thrown out a casual hint about a gold watch, and Klara had no further thought for her jealous admirer. "Now go and fetch the key," said Count Feri, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold. The hint of the gold watch had stirred Klara's pulses. A _t te- -t te_ with my lord was, moreover, greatly to her liking. He could be very amusing when he chose, and was always generous; and Klara's life was often dull and colourless. A pleasant evening spent in his company would compensate her in a measure for her disappointment at not being asked to Elsa's ball, and there was the gold watch to look forward to, above all. Taking an opportunity when her father was absorbed in his game of tarok, she went into the next room and presently returned with a key in her hand, which she surreptitiously gave to my lord. "Splendid!" exclaimed the young man gaily. "Klara, you are a gem, and after supper you shall just ask me for anything you have a fancy for, and I'll give it to you. Now I'd better go. Good-bye, little one. Ten o'clock sharp, eh?" "Ten o'clock," she repeated, under her breath. He strode to the door, outside which he found Leopold waiting for him. "The horse was quite quiet, my lord," said the Jew sullenly; "the boy had never left it for a moment." "Oh! that's all right, Hirsch," rejoined my lord indifferently. "I only wanted to know." Of course he never thought of saying a word of thanks or of excuse to the other man. What would you? A Jew! Bah! not even worth a nod of the head. Count Feri R kosy had quickly mounted his pretty, half-bred Arab mare--a click of the tongue and she was off with him, kicking up a cloud of dust in her wake. But Leopold Hirsch had remained for a moment standing on the doorstep of Ign cz Goldstein's house. He watched horse and rider through that cloud of dust, and along the straight and broad highway, until both had become a mere speck upon the low-lying horizon. "May you break your accursed neck!" he muttered fervently. Then he went back to the tap-room. CHAPTER XX "You happen to be of my race and of my blood." He strode at once to Klara, who greeted him with an ironical little smile and a coquettish look out of her dark eyes. "You never told me that you were going away to-night, my dear Leopold," she said suavely. "Who told you that I was?" he retorted savagely. "It seems to be pretty well known about the place. You seemed to have been talking about it pretty freely that you were going to Fiume to meet your brother when the ship he is on comes in." "I meant to tell you just now, only his lordship's arrival interrupted me," he said more quietly. "And since then you have been busy making a fool of yourself before my lord, eh?" she asked. "Bah!" "And compromising me into the bargain, what? But let me tell you this, my good Leopold, before we go any further, that I am not married to you yet, and that I don't like your airs of proprietorship, _sabe_?" He could not say anything more just then, for customers were departing, and she had to attend to them; he did not try to approach her while she was thus engaged, but presently, when her back was turned, he contrived to work his way across to the door which gave on the inner room, and to push it slightly open with his hand, until he could peep through the aperture and take a quick survey of the room beyond. Klara had not seen this manoeuvre of his, although she had cast more than one rapid and furtive glance upon him while she attended to her customers. She was thankful that he was going away for a few days; in his present mood he was positively dangerous. She had lighted the oil lamp which hung from the centre of the low, raftered ceiling, the hour was getting late, customers were all leaving now one by one. Er s B la was one of the last to go. He had drunk rather more silvorium than was good for him. He knew quite well that by absenting himself from the pre-nuptial festivals he had behaved in a disgraceful and unjustifiable manner which would surely be resented throughout the village, and though he was quite sure that he did not care one brass fill r what all those ignorant peasants thought of him, yet he felt it incumbent upon him to brace up his courage now, before meeting the hostile fusillade of eyes which would be sure to greet him on his return to the barn. He meant to put in a short appearance there, and then to finish his evening here in Klara's company. He felt that his dignity demanded that he should absent himself at any rate from the supper, seeing that Elsa had so grossly defied him. "At ten o'clock I'll be back, Klara," he whispered, in the girl's ear, as he was about to take his departure along with some of his friends, who also intended to go on to the dance in the barn. "Indeed you won't," she retorted decisively, "I have no use for you, my good B la. You are almost a married man now, remember!" she added with a laugh. "I'll bring those bottles of champagne," he urged; "don't be hard on me, Klara. I'll give you a good time to-night, and a nice present into the bargain." "And ruin my reputation for ever, eh? By walking into the tap-room when it's full of people and carrying two bottles of champagne under your arm--or staying on ostentatiously after everyone has gone and for everyone to gossip. No, thank you; I've already told you that I am not going to lend myself to your little games of vengeance. It isn't me you want, it's petty revenge upon Elsa. To that I say no, thank you, my good man." "Klara!" he pleaded. "No!" she said, and unceremoniously turned her back on him. He went off, sullen and morose, and not a little chaffed for his moroseness by his friends. The tap-room was almost deserted for the moment. In one or two corners only a few stragglers lingered; they were sprawling across the tables with arms outstretched. Ign cz Goldstein's silvorium had proved too potent and too plentiful. They lay there in a drunken sleep--logs that were of no account. Presently they would have to be thrown out, but there was no hurry for that--they were not in the way. Ign cz Goldstein had gone into the next room. Klara was busy tidying up the place; Leopold approached her with well-feigned contrition and humility. "I am sorry, Klara," he said. "I seemed to have had the knack to-night of constantly annoying you. So I'd best begone now, perhaps." "I bear no malice, Leo," she said quietly. "I thought I'd come back at about nine o'clock," he continued. "It is nearly eight now." She, thinking that he had his own journey in mind, remarked casually: "You'd best be here well before nine. The train leaves at nine-twenty, and father walks very slowly." "I won't be late," he said. "Best give me the key of the back door. I'll let myself in that way." "No occasion to do that," she retorted. "The front door will be open. You can come in that way like everybody else." "It's just a fancy," he said quietly; "there might be a lot of people about just then. I don't want to come through here. I thought I'd just slip in the back way as I often do. So give me the key, Klara, will you?" "How can I give you the key of the back door?" she said, equally quietly; "you know father always carries it in his coat pocket." "But there is a second key," he remarked, "which hangs on a nail by your father's bedside in the next room. Give me that one, Klara." "I shan't," she retorted. "I never heard such nonsense! As if I could allow you to use the private door of this house just as it suits your fancy. If you want to come in to-night and say good-bye, you must come in by the front door." "It's just a whim of mine, Klara," urged Leopold, now still speaking quietly--almost under his breath--but there was an ominous tremor in his voice and sudden sharp gleams in his eyes which the girl had already noted and which caused the blood to rush back to her heart, leaving her cheeks pale and her lips trembling. "Nonsense!" she contrived to say, with an indifferent shrug of the shoulders. "Just a whim," he reiterated. "So I'll take the key, by your leave." He turned to the door of the inner room and pushed it open, just as he had done awhile ago, and now--as then--he cast a rapid glance round the room. Klara, through half-closed lids, watched his every movement. "Why!" he exclaimed, turning back to her, and with a look of well-feigned surprise, "the key is not in its place." "I know it isn't," she retorted curtly. "Then where is it?" "I have put it away." "When? It was hanging on its usual nail when I first came here this afternoon. I remember the door being open, and my glancing into the room casually. I am sure it was there then." "It may have been: but I put it away after that." "Why should you have done that?" "I don't know, and, anyhow, it's no business of yours, is it?" "Give me that back-door key, Klara," insisted the young man, in a tone of savage command. "No!" she replied, slowly and decisively. There was silence in the little, low raftered room after that, a silence only broken by the buzzing of flies against the white globe of the lamp, and by the snores of the sleepers who sprawled across the tables. Leopold Hirsch had drawn in his breath with a low, hissing sound; his face, by the yellow light of the lamp, looked ghastly in colour, and his hands were twitching convulsively as the trembling fingers clenched and opened with a monotonous, jerky movement of attempted self-control. Klara had not failed to notice these symptoms of an agony of mind which the young man was so vainly trying to hide from her. For the moment she almost felt sorry for him--sorry and slightly remorseful. After all, Leo's frame of mind, the agony which he endured, came from the strength of his love for her. Neither Er s B la, nor the young Count, nor the many admirers who had hung round her in the past until such time as their fancy found more permanent anchorage elsewhere, would have suffered tortures of soul and of heart because she had indulged in a mild flirtation with a rival. Er s B la would have stormed and cursed, the young Count would have laid his riding-whip across the shoulders of his successful rival and there would have been an end of the matter. Leopold Hirsch would go down to hell and endure the torments of the damned, then return to heaven at a smile from her, and go back to hell again and glory in his misery. But just now she was frightened of him; he looked almost like a living corpse; the skin on his face was drawn so tightly over the bones that it gave him the appearance of a skull with hollow eyes and wide, grinning mouth. Outside an owl hooted dismally. Klara gave a slight shiver of fear and looked furtively round her to see if any of the drunkards were awake. Then she recollected that her father was in the next room, and presently, from afar, came shouts of laughter and the sound of music. She woke as from a nightmare, gave her fine shoulders a little shake, and looked boldly into her jealous lover's face. "By the Lord, Leo!" she said, with a little forced laugh, "you have given me the creeps, looking as you do. How dare you frighten me like that? With your clenched hands, too, as if you wanted to murder me. There, now, don't be such a silly fool. You have got a long journey before you; it's no use making yourself sick with jealousy just before you go." "I am not going on a journey," he said, in a toneless, even voice, which seemed to come from a grave. "Not going?" she said, with a frown of puzzlement. "You were going to Fiume to meet your brother, don't you remember? The ship he is on is due in the day after to-morrow. If you don't start to-night you won't be able to catch the express at Budapesth to-morrow." "I know all that," he said, in the same dull, monotonous tone; "I am not going, that's all." "But . . ." "I have changed my mind. Your father is going away. I must watch over you to see that no one molests you. Thieves might want to break in . . . one never knows . . . anyhow, my brother can look after himself . . . I stay to look after you." For a moment or two she stood quite still, her senses strained to grasp the meaning, the purport of the present situation--this madman on the watch outside--the young Count, key in hand, swaggering up to the back door at ten o'clock, when most folk would be at supper in the barn, her father gone, the village street wrapped in darkness! Leopold, by a violent and sudden effort, had regained mastery over the muscles of his face and hands, these no longer twitched now, and he answered her look of mute inquiry with one of well-feigned quietude. Only his breath he could not control, it passed through his throat with a stertorous sound, and every now and then he had to pass his tongue over his dry, cracked lips. Thus they stood for a moment eye to eye; and what she read in his glance caused a nameless fear to strike at her heart and to paralyse her will. But the next instant she had recovered her presence of mind. With quick, febrile movements she had already taken off her apron and with her hands smoothed her unruly dark hair. Then she made for the door. Less than a second and already he had guessed her purpose: before she could reach the door he had his back against it and his nervy fingers had grasped her wrist. "Where are you going?" "Out," she said curtly. "What for?" "That's none of your business." "What for?" he reiterated hoarsely. "Let go my wrist," she exclaimed, "you are hurting me." "I'll hurt you worse," he cried, in a broken voice, "if you cross this threshold to-night." But he released her wrist, and she, wrathful, indignant, terrified, retreated to the other end of the room. "Go out by the back door," he sneered, "if you want to go out. You have the key, haven't you?" "My father . . ." she began. "Yes!" he said. "Go and tell your father that I, Leopold Hirsch, your affianced husband, am browbeating you--making a scene, what?--because you have made an assignation with my lord the young Count, here--at night--under your father's roof--under the roof of a child of Israel! You! An assignation with a dirty Christian! . . . Bah! Go and tell your father that! And he will thrash you to within an inch of your life! We are Jews, he and I, and hold the honour of our women sacred--more sacred than their life!" "Don't be a fool, Leopold," she cried, feeling that indeed, between her father and this madman, her life had ceased to be safe. She looked round her helplessly. Three or four besotted fools lying helpless across the tables, and all the village dancing and making merry some two hundred m tres away, her father--implacable, as she well knew, where her conduct was concerned--and this madman ready to kill to satisfy his lust of vengeance and of hate--she felt that indeed, unless Heaven performed a miracle, here was the beginning of an awful, an irredeemable tragedy. "Leopold, don't be a fool," she reiterated, trying with all her might not to appear frightened or scared or confused. "I have promised Kapus Elsa to go to her dance for half an hour. I had forgotten all about it. I must go now." "Go and change your dress, then," he retorted with a sneer, "then you can go out by the back way. You have put the key away somewhere, haven't you? You know where it is." "You are mad about doors to-night. I tell you I am going out now, by that front door--at once." "And I tell you," he said, slowly and deliberately, "that if you cross the front door step I will call your father and tell him that you go and meet your lover--a Christian lover--the young Count--who would as soon think of marrying you as he would a nigger or a kitchen slut. Before you will have reached the high road your father and I will be on your heels, and either he or I will strangle you ere you come within sight of my lord's castle." "You are mad!" she cried. "Or else an idiot." "Better look for that back-door key," he retorted. "What has the back-door key to do with it?" she asked sullenly. "Only this," he replied, "that while that monkey-faced dog of a Christian was whispering to you just now, I know that the key was hanging on its usual peg, but I heard something about 'supper' and about 'ten o'clock.' May he break his neck, I say, and save me the job. Then he ordered me out of the room. Oh! I guessed! I am no fool, you know! When I came back I looked into your father's room--the key was gone, and I knew. And what I say is, why can't he come in by the front door like a man, if he has nothing to hide? Why must you let him come in like a thief by a back-door, if you have nothing to be ashamed of? The tap-room is open to anybody. Anybody can walk in and get a drink if they want to. Then why this whispering and this sneaking?" He was working himself up to a greater and ever greater passion of fury. He kept his voice low because he didn't want Ign cz Goldstein to hear--not just yet, at any rate--for Ign cz was a hard man and a stern father, and God only knew what he might not do if he was roused. Leopold did not want Klara hurt--not yet, at any rate--not until he was quite sure that she meant to play him altogether false. She was vain and frivolous, over-fond of dress and of queening it over the peasant girls of the village, but there was no real harm in her. She was immensely flattered by the young Count's attentions and over-ready to accept his presents in exchange for kisses and whisperings behind closed doors, but there was no real harm in her--so at least Leopold Hirsch kept repeating to himself time and again, whenever jealousy gnawed at his heart more roughly than he could endure. Just now that torment was almost unbearable, and the passion of fury into which he had worked himself blinded him momentarily to the dull, aching pain. Klara, as he spoke thus hoarsely, and brought his contorted face closer and closer to hers, had gradually shrunk more and more into the corner of the room, and there she remained now, flattened against the wall, her wide-open, terror-filled eyes fixed staringly upon this raving madman. "You asked just now," he continued, in the same hoarse, guttural whisper, which seemed literally to be racking and tearing his throat as it came, "what the back-door key had to do with my not going to meet my brother at Fiume. Well! It has this much to do with it, that you happen to be my tokened wife, that you happen to be of my race and of my blood, a sober, clean-living Jewess, please God, and not one of those frivolous, empty-headed Christian girls--you are that now, I know; if you were not I would kill you first and myself afterwards: therefore, if to-night I catch a thief--any thief, I don't care who he is--sneaking into this house by a back door when you happen to be here alone and seemingly unprotected, if I catch any kind of thief or malefactor, I say . . ." He paused, and she, through teeth that chattered, contrived to murmur: "Well? What do you say? Why don't you go on?" "Because you understand," he said, with calm as sudden and as terrible as his rage had been awhile ago. "I am not a Christian, you know, nor yet a gentleman. I cannot walk up either to my lord's castle or to one of these Christian Magyar peasants and strike him in the face for trying to rob me of that which is more precious to me than life. I am a Jew . . . a low-born, miserable Jew, whose whole race, origin and upbringing are despicable in the sight of the noble lords as well as of the Hungarian peasantry. Just a wretched creature whom one orders to hold one's horse, to brush one's boots, to stand out of one's way, anyhow; but not to meet as man to man, not to fight openly and frankly for the woman whom one loves. Well! You happen to be a Jewess too, and tokened to a Jew, and if either my lord or one of these d----d Magyar peasants chooses to come sneaking round you like a thief in the night, well . . ." He paused, and from the pocket of his shabby trousers he half drew out a long, sheathed hunting-knife, and then quickly hid it again from her sight. Klara smothered a desperate cry of terror. Leopold now turned his back on her; he went up to the table and seizing a carafe of water, he poured himself out a huge mugful and drank it down at a draught. The edge of the mug rattled against his teeth, his hand was trembling so that half the contents were poured down on his clothes. He did not look again on Klara, but having put the mug down, he passed his hand once or twice across his forehead as if to chase away some of those horrible thoughts which were still lurking in his brain. Then he took his cigarette-case out of his pocket, selected a cigarette, struck a match and lit it, still avoiding Klara's fixed and staring gaze. "I'll go and smoke this outside," he said quietly. "I can see both doors from the corner. When you have found that back-door key you may go to Elsa Kapus' wedding feast, but not before." He took a final look round the room, and his eyes, which had once more become dull and pale, rested with an infinite look of contempt upon the two or three besotted drunkards who, throughout this scene, had done no more than open and blink a sleepy eye. "Shall I turn these louts out for you now?" he asked. "No, no," she replied mechanically, "let them have their sleep. When they wake they'll go away all right." Just then the outer door was opened and Lakatos Andor's broad figure appeared upon the threshold. Leopold Hirsch gave him a nod, and without another look on Klara, he strode out into the night. CHAPTER XXI "Jealous, like a madman." "I came to see if B la was still here," said Andor, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold Hirsch. "One or two chaps whom I met awhile ago told me that he had not been seen in the barn this hour past, and that there was a lot of talk about it. I thought that if he were here, I could persuade you . . ." He paused, and looked more keenly at the girl. "What is it, Klara?" he asked; "you seem ill or upset . . ." She closed her eyes once or twice like someone just waking out of a dream, then she passed her hands over her forehead and over her hair. She felt completely dazed and stupid, as if she had received a stunning blow on the head, and while Andor talked she looked at him with staring eyes, not understanding a word that he said. "Yes--yes, Andor?" she said vaguely. "What can I do for you?" "Nothing much, my good Klara," he replied; "it was only about B la . . ." "Yes--about B la," she stammered; "won't . . . won't you sit down?" "Thank you, I will for a moment." She moved forward in order to get him a chair, but she found that she could not stand. The moment that she relinquished the prop of the wall, her knees gave way under her and she lurched forward against the table. She would have fallen had not Andor caught her and guided her to a chair, whereon she sank half fainting, with eyes closed and cheeks and lips the colour of ashes. Just for the moment the wild thought flew through his mind that she had been induced to drink by one of the men, but a closer look on her wan, pale face and into those dilated eyes of hers convinced him that the girl was in real and acute mental distress. He went up to the table and poured out a mug of wine, which he held to her lips. She drank eagerly, looking up at him the while with a strangely pathetic, eagerly appealing gaze. When he had taken the mug from her and replaced it on the table, he drew a chair close to her and said as kindly as he could, for he did not feel very well-disposed toward the girl who was the cause of much unhappiness to Elsa: "Now, Klara, you are going to tell me what is the matter with you." But already she had recovered herself a little, and Lakatos Andor's somewhat dictatorial tone grated upon her sensitive ear. "There's nothing the matter with me," she retorted, with a return of her habitual flippancy. "What should be the matter?" "I don't know," he said dryly; "and, of course, if you tell me that it's a private affair of your own and none of my business, why I'll be quite satisfied, and not ask any more questions. But if it's anything to do with B la . . ." "No, of course not," she broke in impatiently. "What should B la have to do with my affairs? B la has been gone from here this hour past." "And he is not coming back?" asked Andor searchingly. "I trust not," she replied fervently, and the young man noticed that the staring, terror-filled look once more crept into her eyes. "Very well, then," he said, rising, "that is all I wanted to know. I am sorry to have disturbed you. Good-night,

further

How many times the word 'further' appears in the text?

Fiume in half an hour." "To Fiume?" "Yes. You know he has a brother coming home from America." "I know that." "His ship is due in at Fiume the day after to-morrow. Leopold must start by the same train as your father to-night, in order to catch the express for Fiume at Budapesth to-morrow." "Did he tell you all that?" "I have known all along that he meant to meet his brother at Fiume, and yesterday he said something about it again. So you see, my pretty one, that we can have a comfortable little supper this evening without fear of interruption. We'll have it at ten o'clock, when the supper-party is going on at the barn, eh? We shan't be interrupted then. So give me that duplicate key, will you, and I can slip in quietly through the back door without raising a bit of gossip or scandal. Hurry up now! I shall have to be going." "I can't now," she protested. "Leopold hasn't taken his eyes off me all this time." "Oh! if that is all that is troubling you, my dear," said the young man coolly, "I can easily settle our friend Leopold. Hirsch!" he called loudly. "My lord?" queried the other, with the quick obsequiousness habitual to the down-trodden race. "My horse is kicking up such a row outside. I wish you'd just go and see if the boy is looking after him properly." Of course it was impossible to do anything but obey. My lord had commanded; in the ordinary way the poor Jew shopkeeper would have felt honoured to have been selected for individual recognition. Nor did he do more now than throw one of those swift looks of his--so full of hatred and of menace--upon Klara and the young man; but the latter, having given his orders, no longer condescended to take notice of the Jew and had once more engaged the girl in animated conversation. Had Klara thought of looking up when Leopold finally obeyed my lord's commands and went to look after the horse, she could not have failed to realize the danger which lurked in the young man's pale eyes then. His face, always pale and olive-tinted, was now the colour of ashes, grey and livid and blotched with purple, his lips looked white and quivering, and his eyebrows--of a reddish tinge--met above his nose in a deep, dark scowl. But my lord had thrown out a casual hint about a gold watch, and Klara had no further thought for her jealous admirer. "Now go and fetch the key," said Count Feri, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold. The hint of the gold watch had stirred Klara's pulses. A _t te- -t te_ with my lord was, moreover, greatly to her liking. He could be very amusing when he chose, and was always generous; and Klara's life was often dull and colourless. A pleasant evening spent in his company would compensate her in a measure for her disappointment at not being asked to Elsa's ball, and there was the gold watch to look forward to, above all. Taking an opportunity when her father was absorbed in his game of tarok, she went into the next room and presently returned with a key in her hand, which she surreptitiously gave to my lord. "Splendid!" exclaimed the young man gaily. "Klara, you are a gem, and after supper you shall just ask me for anything you have a fancy for, and I'll give it to you. Now I'd better go. Good-bye, little one. Ten o'clock sharp, eh?" "Ten o'clock," she repeated, under her breath. He strode to the door, outside which he found Leopold waiting for him. "The horse was quite quiet, my lord," said the Jew sullenly; "the boy had never left it for a moment." "Oh! that's all right, Hirsch," rejoined my lord indifferently. "I only wanted to know." Of course he never thought of saying a word of thanks or of excuse to the other man. What would you? A Jew! Bah! not even worth a nod of the head. Count Feri R kosy had quickly mounted his pretty, half-bred Arab mare--a click of the tongue and she was off with him, kicking up a cloud of dust in her wake. But Leopold Hirsch had remained for a moment standing on the doorstep of Ign cz Goldstein's house. He watched horse and rider through that cloud of dust, and along the straight and broad highway, until both had become a mere speck upon the low-lying horizon. "May you break your accursed neck!" he muttered fervently. Then he went back to the tap-room. CHAPTER XX "You happen to be of my race and of my blood." He strode at once to Klara, who greeted him with an ironical little smile and a coquettish look out of her dark eyes. "You never told me that you were going away to-night, my dear Leopold," she said suavely. "Who told you that I was?" he retorted savagely. "It seems to be pretty well known about the place. You seemed to have been talking about it pretty freely that you were going to Fiume to meet your brother when the ship he is on comes in." "I meant to tell you just now, only his lordship's arrival interrupted me," he said more quietly. "And since then you have been busy making a fool of yourself before my lord, eh?" she asked. "Bah!" "And compromising me into the bargain, what? But let me tell you this, my good Leopold, before we go any further, that I am not married to you yet, and that I don't like your airs of proprietorship, _sabe_?" He could not say anything more just then, for customers were departing, and she had to attend to them; he did not try to approach her while she was thus engaged, but presently, when her back was turned, he contrived to work his way across to the door which gave on the inner room, and to push it slightly open with his hand, until he could peep through the aperture and take a quick survey of the room beyond. Klara had not seen this manoeuvre of his, although she had cast more than one rapid and furtive glance upon him while she attended to her customers. She was thankful that he was going away for a few days; in his present mood he was positively dangerous. She had lighted the oil lamp which hung from the centre of the low, raftered ceiling, the hour was getting late, customers were all leaving now one by one. Er s B la was one of the last to go. He had drunk rather more silvorium than was good for him. He knew quite well that by absenting himself from the pre-nuptial festivals he had behaved in a disgraceful and unjustifiable manner which would surely be resented throughout the village, and though he was quite sure that he did not care one brass fill r what all those ignorant peasants thought of him, yet he felt it incumbent upon him to brace up his courage now, before meeting the hostile fusillade of eyes which would be sure to greet him on his return to the barn. He meant to put in a short appearance there, and then to finish his evening here in Klara's company. He felt that his dignity demanded that he should absent himself at any rate from the supper, seeing that Elsa had so grossly defied him. "At ten o'clock I'll be back, Klara," he whispered, in the girl's ear, as he was about to take his departure along with some of his friends, who also intended to go on to the dance in the barn. "Indeed you won't," she retorted decisively, "I have no use for you, my good B la. You are almost a married man now, remember!" she added with a laugh. "I'll bring those bottles of champagne," he urged; "don't be hard on me, Klara. I'll give you a good time to-night, and a nice present into the bargain." "And ruin my reputation for ever, eh? By walking into the tap-room when it's full of people and carrying two bottles of champagne under your arm--or staying on ostentatiously after everyone has gone and for everyone to gossip. No, thank you; I've already told you that I am not going to lend myself to your little games of vengeance. It isn't me you want, it's petty revenge upon Elsa. To that I say no, thank you, my good man." "Klara!" he pleaded. "No!" she said, and unceremoniously turned her back on him. He went off, sullen and morose, and not a little chaffed for his moroseness by his friends. The tap-room was almost deserted for the moment. In one or two corners only a few stragglers lingered; they were sprawling across the tables with arms outstretched. Ign cz Goldstein's silvorium had proved too potent and too plentiful. They lay there in a drunken sleep--logs that were of no account. Presently they would have to be thrown out, but there was no hurry for that--they were not in the way. Ign cz Goldstein had gone into the next room. Klara was busy tidying up the place; Leopold approached her with well-feigned contrition and humility. "I am sorry, Klara," he said. "I seemed to have had the knack to-night of constantly annoying you. So I'd best begone now, perhaps." "I bear no malice, Leo," she said quietly. "I thought I'd come back at about nine o'clock," he continued. "It is nearly eight now." She, thinking that he had his own journey in mind, remarked casually: "You'd best be here well before nine. The train leaves at nine-twenty, and father walks very slowly." "I won't be late," he said. "Best give me the key of the back door. I'll let myself in that way." "No occasion to do that," she retorted. "The front door will be open. You can come in that way like everybody else." "It's just a fancy," he said quietly; "there might be a lot of people about just then. I don't want to come through here. I thought I'd just slip in the back way as I often do. So give me the key, Klara, will you?" "How can I give you the key of the back door?" she said, equally quietly; "you know father always carries it in his coat pocket." "But there is a second key," he remarked, "which hangs on a nail by your father's bedside in the next room. Give me that one, Klara." "I shan't," she retorted. "I never heard such nonsense! As if I could allow you to use the private door of this house just as it suits your fancy. If you want to come in to-night and say good-bye, you must come in by the front door." "It's just a whim of mine, Klara," urged Leopold, now still speaking quietly--almost under his breath--but there was an ominous tremor in his voice and sudden sharp gleams in his eyes which the girl had already noted and which caused the blood to rush back to her heart, leaving her cheeks pale and her lips trembling. "Nonsense!" she contrived to say, with an indifferent shrug of the shoulders. "Just a whim," he reiterated. "So I'll take the key, by your leave." He turned to the door of the inner room and pushed it open, just as he had done awhile ago, and now--as then--he cast a rapid glance round the room. Klara, through half-closed lids, watched his every movement. "Why!" he exclaimed, turning back to her, and with a look of well-feigned surprise, "the key is not in its place." "I know it isn't," she retorted curtly. "Then where is it?" "I have put it away." "When? It was hanging on its usual nail when I first came here this afternoon. I remember the door being open, and my glancing into the room casually. I am sure it was there then." "It may have been: but I put it away after that." "Why should you have done that?" "I don't know, and, anyhow, it's no business of yours, is it?" "Give me that back-door key, Klara," insisted the young man, in a tone of savage command. "No!" she replied, slowly and decisively. There was silence in the little, low raftered room after that, a silence only broken by the buzzing of flies against the white globe of the lamp, and by the snores of the sleepers who sprawled across the tables. Leopold Hirsch had drawn in his breath with a low, hissing sound; his face, by the yellow light of the lamp, looked ghastly in colour, and his hands were twitching convulsively as the trembling fingers clenched and opened with a monotonous, jerky movement of attempted self-control. Klara had not failed to notice these symptoms of an agony of mind which the young man was so vainly trying to hide from her. For the moment she almost felt sorry for him--sorry and slightly remorseful. After all, Leo's frame of mind, the agony which he endured, came from the strength of his love for her. Neither Er s B la, nor the young Count, nor the many admirers who had hung round her in the past until such time as their fancy found more permanent anchorage elsewhere, would have suffered tortures of soul and of heart because she had indulged in a mild flirtation with a rival. Er s B la would have stormed and cursed, the young Count would have laid his riding-whip across the shoulders of his successful rival and there would have been an end of the matter. Leopold Hirsch would go down to hell and endure the torments of the damned, then return to heaven at a smile from her, and go back to hell again and glory in his misery. But just now she was frightened of him; he looked almost like a living corpse; the skin on his face was drawn so tightly over the bones that it gave him the appearance of a skull with hollow eyes and wide, grinning mouth. Outside an owl hooted dismally. Klara gave a slight shiver of fear and looked furtively round her to see if any of the drunkards were awake. Then she recollected that her father was in the next room, and presently, from afar, came shouts of laughter and the sound of music. She woke as from a nightmare, gave her fine shoulders a little shake, and looked boldly into her jealous lover's face. "By the Lord, Leo!" she said, with a little forced laugh, "you have given me the creeps, looking as you do. How dare you frighten me like that? With your clenched hands, too, as if you wanted to murder me. There, now, don't be such a silly fool. You have got a long journey before you; it's no use making yourself sick with jealousy just before you go." "I am not going on a journey," he said, in a toneless, even voice, which seemed to come from a grave. "Not going?" she said, with a frown of puzzlement. "You were going to Fiume to meet your brother, don't you remember? The ship he is on is due in the day after to-morrow. If you don't start to-night you won't be able to catch the express at Budapesth to-morrow." "I know all that," he said, in the same dull, monotonous tone; "I am not going, that's all." "But . . ." "I have changed my mind. Your father is going away. I must watch over you to see that no one molests you. Thieves might want to break in . . . one never knows . . . anyhow, my brother can look after himself . . . I stay to look after you." For a moment or two she stood quite still, her senses strained to grasp the meaning, the purport of the present situation--this madman on the watch outside--the young Count, key in hand, swaggering up to the back door at ten o'clock, when most folk would be at supper in the barn, her father gone, the village street wrapped in darkness! Leopold, by a violent and sudden effort, had regained mastery over the muscles of his face and hands, these no longer twitched now, and he answered her look of mute inquiry with one of well-feigned quietude. Only his breath he could not control, it passed through his throat with a stertorous sound, and every now and then he had to pass his tongue over his dry, cracked lips. Thus they stood for a moment eye to eye; and what she read in his glance caused a nameless fear to strike at her heart and to paralyse her will. But the next instant she had recovered her presence of mind. With quick, febrile movements she had already taken off her apron and with her hands smoothed her unruly dark hair. Then she made for the door. Less than a second and already he had guessed her purpose: before she could reach the door he had his back against it and his nervy fingers had grasped her wrist. "Where are you going?" "Out," she said curtly. "What for?" "That's none of your business." "What for?" he reiterated hoarsely. "Let go my wrist," she exclaimed, "you are hurting me." "I'll hurt you worse," he cried, in a broken voice, "if you cross this threshold to-night." But he released her wrist, and she, wrathful, indignant, terrified, retreated to the other end of the room. "Go out by the back door," he sneered, "if you want to go out. You have the key, haven't you?" "My father . . ." she began. "Yes!" he said. "Go and tell your father that I, Leopold Hirsch, your affianced husband, am browbeating you--making a scene, what?--because you have made an assignation with my lord the young Count, here--at night--under your father's roof--under the roof of a child of Israel! You! An assignation with a dirty Christian! . . . Bah! Go and tell your father that! And he will thrash you to within an inch of your life! We are Jews, he and I, and hold the honour of our women sacred--more sacred than their life!" "Don't be a fool, Leopold," she cried, feeling that indeed, between her father and this madman, her life had ceased to be safe. She looked round her helplessly. Three or four besotted fools lying helpless across the tables, and all the village dancing and making merry some two hundred m tres away, her father--implacable, as she well knew, where her conduct was concerned--and this madman ready to kill to satisfy his lust of vengeance and of hate--she felt that indeed, unless Heaven performed a miracle, here was the beginning of an awful, an irredeemable tragedy. "Leopold, don't be a fool," she reiterated, trying with all her might not to appear frightened or scared or confused. "I have promised Kapus Elsa to go to her dance for half an hour. I had forgotten all about it. I must go now." "Go and change your dress, then," he retorted with a sneer, "then you can go out by the back way. You have put the key away somewhere, haven't you? You know where it is." "You are mad about doors to-night. I tell you I am going out now, by that front door--at once." "And I tell you," he said, slowly and deliberately, "that if you cross the front door step I will call your father and tell him that you go and meet your lover--a Christian lover--the young Count--who would as soon think of marrying you as he would a nigger or a kitchen slut. Before you will have reached the high road your father and I will be on your heels, and either he or I will strangle you ere you come within sight of my lord's castle." "You are mad!" she cried. "Or else an idiot." "Better look for that back-door key," he retorted. "What has the back-door key to do with it?" she asked sullenly. "Only this," he replied, "that while that monkey-faced dog of a Christian was whispering to you just now, I know that the key was hanging on its usual peg, but I heard something about 'supper' and about 'ten o'clock.' May he break his neck, I say, and save me the job. Then he ordered me out of the room. Oh! I guessed! I am no fool, you know! When I came back I looked into your father's room--the key was gone, and I knew. And what I say is, why can't he come in by the front door like a man, if he has nothing to hide? Why must you let him come in like a thief by a back-door, if you have nothing to be ashamed of? The tap-room is open to anybody. Anybody can walk in and get a drink if they want to. Then why this whispering and this sneaking?" He was working himself up to a greater and ever greater passion of fury. He kept his voice low because he didn't want Ign cz Goldstein to hear--not just yet, at any rate--for Ign cz was a hard man and a stern father, and God only knew what he might not do if he was roused. Leopold did not want Klara hurt--not yet, at any rate--not until he was quite sure that she meant to play him altogether false. She was vain and frivolous, over-fond of dress and of queening it over the peasant girls of the village, but there was no real harm in her. She was immensely flattered by the young Count's attentions and over-ready to accept his presents in exchange for kisses and whisperings behind closed doors, but there was no real harm in her--so at least Leopold Hirsch kept repeating to himself time and again, whenever jealousy gnawed at his heart more roughly than he could endure. Just now that torment was almost unbearable, and the passion of fury into which he had worked himself blinded him momentarily to the dull, aching pain. Klara, as he spoke thus hoarsely, and brought his contorted face closer and closer to hers, had gradually shrunk more and more into the corner of the room, and there she remained now, flattened against the wall, her wide-open, terror-filled eyes fixed staringly upon this raving madman. "You asked just now," he continued, in the same hoarse, guttural whisper, which seemed literally to be racking and tearing his throat as it came, "what the back-door key had to do with my not going to meet my brother at Fiume. Well! It has this much to do with it, that you happen to be my tokened wife, that you happen to be of my race and of my blood, a sober, clean-living Jewess, please God, and not one of those frivolous, empty-headed Christian girls--you are that now, I know; if you were not I would kill you first and myself afterwards: therefore, if to-night I catch a thief--any thief, I don't care who he is--sneaking into this house by a back door when you happen to be here alone and seemingly unprotected, if I catch any kind of thief or malefactor, I say . . ." He paused, and she, through teeth that chattered, contrived to murmur: "Well? What do you say? Why don't you go on?" "Because you understand," he said, with calm as sudden and as terrible as his rage had been awhile ago. "I am not a Christian, you know, nor yet a gentleman. I cannot walk up either to my lord's castle or to one of these Christian Magyar peasants and strike him in the face for trying to rob me of that which is more precious to me than life. I am a Jew . . . a low-born, miserable Jew, whose whole race, origin and upbringing are despicable in the sight of the noble lords as well as of the Hungarian peasantry. Just a wretched creature whom one orders to hold one's horse, to brush one's boots, to stand out of one's way, anyhow; but not to meet as man to man, not to fight openly and frankly for the woman whom one loves. Well! You happen to be a Jewess too, and tokened to a Jew, and if either my lord or one of these d----d Magyar peasants chooses to come sneaking round you like a thief in the night, well . . ." He paused, and from the pocket of his shabby trousers he half drew out a long, sheathed hunting-knife, and then quickly hid it again from her sight. Klara smothered a desperate cry of terror. Leopold now turned his back on her; he went up to the table and seizing a carafe of water, he poured himself out a huge mugful and drank it down at a draught. The edge of the mug rattled against his teeth, his hand was trembling so that half the contents were poured down on his clothes. He did not look again on Klara, but having put the mug down, he passed his hand once or twice across his forehead as if to chase away some of those horrible thoughts which were still lurking in his brain. Then he took his cigarette-case out of his pocket, selected a cigarette, struck a match and lit it, still avoiding Klara's fixed and staring gaze. "I'll go and smoke this outside," he said quietly. "I can see both doors from the corner. When you have found that back-door key you may go to Elsa Kapus' wedding feast, but not before." He took a final look round the room, and his eyes, which had once more become dull and pale, rested with an infinite look of contempt upon the two or three besotted drunkards who, throughout this scene, had done no more than open and blink a sleepy eye. "Shall I turn these louts out for you now?" he asked. "No, no," she replied mechanically, "let them have their sleep. When they wake they'll go away all right." Just then the outer door was opened and Lakatos Andor's broad figure appeared upon the threshold. Leopold Hirsch gave him a nod, and without another look on Klara, he strode out into the night. CHAPTER XXI "Jealous, like a madman." "I came to see if B la was still here," said Andor, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold Hirsch. "One or two chaps whom I met awhile ago told me that he had not been seen in the barn this hour past, and that there was a lot of talk about it. I thought that if he were here, I could persuade you . . ." He paused, and looked more keenly at the girl. "What is it, Klara?" he asked; "you seem ill or upset . . ." She closed her eyes once or twice like someone just waking out of a dream, then she passed her hands over her forehead and over her hair. She felt completely dazed and stupid, as if she had received a stunning blow on the head, and while Andor talked she looked at him with staring eyes, not understanding a word that he said. "Yes--yes, Andor?" she said vaguely. "What can I do for you?" "Nothing much, my good Klara," he replied; "it was only about B la . . ." "Yes--about B la," she stammered; "won't . . . won't you sit down?" "Thank you, I will for a moment." She moved forward in order to get him a chair, but she found that she could not stand. The moment that she relinquished the prop of the wall, her knees gave way under her and she lurched forward against the table. She would have fallen had not Andor caught her and guided her to a chair, whereon she sank half fainting, with eyes closed and cheeks and lips the colour of ashes. Just for the moment the wild thought flew through his mind that she had been induced to drink by one of the men, but a closer look on her wan, pale face and into those dilated eyes of hers convinced him that the girl was in real and acute mental distress. He went up to the table and poured out a mug of wine, which he held to her lips. She drank eagerly, looking up at him the while with a strangely pathetic, eagerly appealing gaze. When he had taken the mug from her and replaced it on the table, he drew a chair close to her and said as kindly as he could, for he did not feel very well-disposed toward the girl who was the cause of much unhappiness to Elsa: "Now, Klara, you are going to tell me what is the matter with you." But already she had recovered herself a little, and Lakatos Andor's somewhat dictatorial tone grated upon her sensitive ear. "There's nothing the matter with me," she retorted, with a return of her habitual flippancy. "What should be the matter?" "I don't know," he said dryly; "and, of course, if you tell me that it's a private affair of your own and none of my business, why I'll be quite satisfied, and not ask any more questions. But if it's anything to do with B la . . ." "No, of course not," she broke in impatiently. "What should B la have to do with my affairs? B la has been gone from here this hour past." "And he is not coming back?" asked Andor searchingly. "I trust not," she replied fervently, and the young man noticed that the staring, terror-filled look once more crept into her eyes. "Very well, then," he said, rising, "that is all I wanted to know. I am sorry to have disturbed you. Good-night,

yet

How many times the word 'yet' appears in the text?

Fiume in half an hour." "To Fiume?" "Yes. You know he has a brother coming home from America." "I know that." "His ship is due in at Fiume the day after to-morrow. Leopold must start by the same train as your father to-night, in order to catch the express for Fiume at Budapesth to-morrow." "Did he tell you all that?" "I have known all along that he meant to meet his brother at Fiume, and yesterday he said something about it again. So you see, my pretty one, that we can have a comfortable little supper this evening without fear of interruption. We'll have it at ten o'clock, when the supper-party is going on at the barn, eh? We shan't be interrupted then. So give me that duplicate key, will you, and I can slip in quietly through the back door without raising a bit of gossip or scandal. Hurry up now! I shall have to be going." "I can't now," she protested. "Leopold hasn't taken his eyes off me all this time." "Oh! if that is all that is troubling you, my dear," said the young man coolly, "I can easily settle our friend Leopold. Hirsch!" he called loudly. "My lord?" queried the other, with the quick obsequiousness habitual to the down-trodden race. "My horse is kicking up such a row outside. I wish you'd just go and see if the boy is looking after him properly." Of course it was impossible to do anything but obey. My lord had commanded; in the ordinary way the poor Jew shopkeeper would have felt honoured to have been selected for individual recognition. Nor did he do more now than throw one of those swift looks of his--so full of hatred and of menace--upon Klara and the young man; but the latter, having given his orders, no longer condescended to take notice of the Jew and had once more engaged the girl in animated conversation. Had Klara thought of looking up when Leopold finally obeyed my lord's commands and went to look after the horse, she could not have failed to realize the danger which lurked in the young man's pale eyes then. His face, always pale and olive-tinted, was now the colour of ashes, grey and livid and blotched with purple, his lips looked white and quivering, and his eyebrows--of a reddish tinge--met above his nose in a deep, dark scowl. But my lord had thrown out a casual hint about a gold watch, and Klara had no further thought for her jealous admirer. "Now go and fetch the key," said Count Feri, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold. The hint of the gold watch had stirred Klara's pulses. A _t te- -t te_ with my lord was, moreover, greatly to her liking. He could be very amusing when he chose, and was always generous; and Klara's life was often dull and colourless. A pleasant evening spent in his company would compensate her in a measure for her disappointment at not being asked to Elsa's ball, and there was the gold watch to look forward to, above all. Taking an opportunity when her father was absorbed in his game of tarok, she went into the next room and presently returned with a key in her hand, which she surreptitiously gave to my lord. "Splendid!" exclaimed the young man gaily. "Klara, you are a gem, and after supper you shall just ask me for anything you have a fancy for, and I'll give it to you. Now I'd better go. Good-bye, little one. Ten o'clock sharp, eh?" "Ten o'clock," she repeated, under her breath. He strode to the door, outside which he found Leopold waiting for him. "The horse was quite quiet, my lord," said the Jew sullenly; "the boy had never left it for a moment." "Oh! that's all right, Hirsch," rejoined my lord indifferently. "I only wanted to know." Of course he never thought of saying a word of thanks or of excuse to the other man. What would you? A Jew! Bah! not even worth a nod of the head. Count Feri R kosy had quickly mounted his pretty, half-bred Arab mare--a click of the tongue and she was off with him, kicking up a cloud of dust in her wake. But Leopold Hirsch had remained for a moment standing on the doorstep of Ign cz Goldstein's house. He watched horse and rider through that cloud of dust, and along the straight and broad highway, until both had become a mere speck upon the low-lying horizon. "May you break your accursed neck!" he muttered fervently. Then he went back to the tap-room. CHAPTER XX "You happen to be of my race and of my blood." He strode at once to Klara, who greeted him with an ironical little smile and a coquettish look out of her dark eyes. "You never told me that you were going away to-night, my dear Leopold," she said suavely. "Who told you that I was?" he retorted savagely. "It seems to be pretty well known about the place. You seemed to have been talking about it pretty freely that you were going to Fiume to meet your brother when the ship he is on comes in." "I meant to tell you just now, only his lordship's arrival interrupted me," he said more quietly. "And since then you have been busy making a fool of yourself before my lord, eh?" she asked. "Bah!" "And compromising me into the bargain, what? But let me tell you this, my good Leopold, before we go any further, that I am not married to you yet, and that I don't like your airs of proprietorship, _sabe_?" He could not say anything more just then, for customers were departing, and she had to attend to them; he did not try to approach her while she was thus engaged, but presently, when her back was turned, he contrived to work his way across to the door which gave on the inner room, and to push it slightly open with his hand, until he could peep through the aperture and take a quick survey of the room beyond. Klara had not seen this manoeuvre of his, although she had cast more than one rapid and furtive glance upon him while she attended to her customers. She was thankful that he was going away for a few days; in his present mood he was positively dangerous. She had lighted the oil lamp which hung from the centre of the low, raftered ceiling, the hour was getting late, customers were all leaving now one by one. Er s B la was one of the last to go. He had drunk rather more silvorium than was good for him. He knew quite well that by absenting himself from the pre-nuptial festivals he had behaved in a disgraceful and unjustifiable manner which would surely be resented throughout the village, and though he was quite sure that he did not care one brass fill r what all those ignorant peasants thought of him, yet he felt it incumbent upon him to brace up his courage now, before meeting the hostile fusillade of eyes which would be sure to greet him on his return to the barn. He meant to put in a short appearance there, and then to finish his evening here in Klara's company. He felt that his dignity demanded that he should absent himself at any rate from the supper, seeing that Elsa had so grossly defied him. "At ten o'clock I'll be back, Klara," he whispered, in the girl's ear, as he was about to take his departure along with some of his friends, who also intended to go on to the dance in the barn. "Indeed you won't," she retorted decisively, "I have no use for you, my good B la. You are almost a married man now, remember!" she added with a laugh. "I'll bring those bottles of champagne," he urged; "don't be hard on me, Klara. I'll give you a good time to-night, and a nice present into the bargain." "And ruin my reputation for ever, eh? By walking into the tap-room when it's full of people and carrying two bottles of champagne under your arm--or staying on ostentatiously after everyone has gone and for everyone to gossip. No, thank you; I've already told you that I am not going to lend myself to your little games of vengeance. It isn't me you want, it's petty revenge upon Elsa. To that I say no, thank you, my good man." "Klara!" he pleaded. "No!" she said, and unceremoniously turned her back on him. He went off, sullen and morose, and not a little chaffed for his moroseness by his friends. The tap-room was almost deserted for the moment. In one or two corners only a few stragglers lingered; they were sprawling across the tables with arms outstretched. Ign cz Goldstein's silvorium had proved too potent and too plentiful. They lay there in a drunken sleep--logs that were of no account. Presently they would have to be thrown out, but there was no hurry for that--they were not in the way. Ign cz Goldstein had gone into the next room. Klara was busy tidying up the place; Leopold approached her with well-feigned contrition and humility. "I am sorry, Klara," he said. "I seemed to have had the knack to-night of constantly annoying you. So I'd best begone now, perhaps." "I bear no malice, Leo," she said quietly. "I thought I'd come back at about nine o'clock," he continued. "It is nearly eight now." She, thinking that he had his own journey in mind, remarked casually: "You'd best be here well before nine. The train leaves at nine-twenty, and father walks very slowly." "I won't be late," he said. "Best give me the key of the back door. I'll let myself in that way." "No occasion to do that," she retorted. "The front door will be open. You can come in that way like everybody else." "It's just a fancy," he said quietly; "there might be a lot of people about just then. I don't want to come through here. I thought I'd just slip in the back way as I often do. So give me the key, Klara, will you?" "How can I give you the key of the back door?" she said, equally quietly; "you know father always carries it in his coat pocket." "But there is a second key," he remarked, "which hangs on a nail by your father's bedside in the next room. Give me that one, Klara." "I shan't," she retorted. "I never heard such nonsense! As if I could allow you to use the private door of this house just as it suits your fancy. If you want to come in to-night and say good-bye, you must come in by the front door." "It's just a whim of mine, Klara," urged Leopold, now still speaking quietly--almost under his breath--but there was an ominous tremor in his voice and sudden sharp gleams in his eyes which the girl had already noted and which caused the blood to rush back to her heart, leaving her cheeks pale and her lips trembling. "Nonsense!" she contrived to say, with an indifferent shrug of the shoulders. "Just a whim," he reiterated. "So I'll take the key, by your leave." He turned to the door of the inner room and pushed it open, just as he had done awhile ago, and now--as then--he cast a rapid glance round the room. Klara, through half-closed lids, watched his every movement. "Why!" he exclaimed, turning back to her, and with a look of well-feigned surprise, "the key is not in its place." "I know it isn't," she retorted curtly. "Then where is it?" "I have put it away." "When? It was hanging on its usual nail when I first came here this afternoon. I remember the door being open, and my glancing into the room casually. I am sure it was there then." "It may have been: but I put it away after that." "Why should you have done that?" "I don't know, and, anyhow, it's no business of yours, is it?" "Give me that back-door key, Klara," insisted the young man, in a tone of savage command. "No!" she replied, slowly and decisively. There was silence in the little, low raftered room after that, a silence only broken by the buzzing of flies against the white globe of the lamp, and by the snores of the sleepers who sprawled across the tables. Leopold Hirsch had drawn in his breath with a low, hissing sound; his face, by the yellow light of the lamp, looked ghastly in colour, and his hands were twitching convulsively as the trembling fingers clenched and opened with a monotonous, jerky movement of attempted self-control. Klara had not failed to notice these symptoms of an agony of mind which the young man was so vainly trying to hide from her. For the moment she almost felt sorry for him--sorry and slightly remorseful. After all, Leo's frame of mind, the agony which he endured, came from the strength of his love for her. Neither Er s B la, nor the young Count, nor the many admirers who had hung round her in the past until such time as their fancy found more permanent anchorage elsewhere, would have suffered tortures of soul and of heart because she had indulged in a mild flirtation with a rival. Er s B la would have stormed and cursed, the young Count would have laid his riding-whip across the shoulders of his successful rival and there would have been an end of the matter. Leopold Hirsch would go down to hell and endure the torments of the damned, then return to heaven at a smile from her, and go back to hell again and glory in his misery. But just now she was frightened of him; he looked almost like a living corpse; the skin on his face was drawn so tightly over the bones that it gave him the appearance of a skull with hollow eyes and wide, grinning mouth. Outside an owl hooted dismally. Klara gave a slight shiver of fear and looked furtively round her to see if any of the drunkards were awake. Then she recollected that her father was in the next room, and presently, from afar, came shouts of laughter and the sound of music. She woke as from a nightmare, gave her fine shoulders a little shake, and looked boldly into her jealous lover's face. "By the Lord, Leo!" she said, with a little forced laugh, "you have given me the creeps, looking as you do. How dare you frighten me like that? With your clenched hands, too, as if you wanted to murder me. There, now, don't be such a silly fool. You have got a long journey before you; it's no use making yourself sick with jealousy just before you go." "I am not going on a journey," he said, in a toneless, even voice, which seemed to come from a grave. "Not going?" she said, with a frown of puzzlement. "You were going to Fiume to meet your brother, don't you remember? The ship he is on is due in the day after to-morrow. If you don't start to-night you won't be able to catch the express at Budapesth to-morrow." "I know all that," he said, in the same dull, monotonous tone; "I am not going, that's all." "But . . ." "I have changed my mind. Your father is going away. I must watch over you to see that no one molests you. Thieves might want to break in . . . one never knows . . . anyhow, my brother can look after himself . . . I stay to look after you." For a moment or two she stood quite still, her senses strained to grasp the meaning, the purport of the present situation--this madman on the watch outside--the young Count, key in hand, swaggering up to the back door at ten o'clock, when most folk would be at supper in the barn, her father gone, the village street wrapped in darkness! Leopold, by a violent and sudden effort, had regained mastery over the muscles of his face and hands, these no longer twitched now, and he answered her look of mute inquiry with one of well-feigned quietude. Only his breath he could not control, it passed through his throat with a stertorous sound, and every now and then he had to pass his tongue over his dry, cracked lips. Thus they stood for a moment eye to eye; and what she read in his glance caused a nameless fear to strike at her heart and to paralyse her will. But the next instant she had recovered her presence of mind. With quick, febrile movements she had already taken off her apron and with her hands smoothed her unruly dark hair. Then she made for the door. Less than a second and already he had guessed her purpose: before she could reach the door he had his back against it and his nervy fingers had grasped her wrist. "Where are you going?" "Out," she said curtly. "What for?" "That's none of your business." "What for?" he reiterated hoarsely. "Let go my wrist," she exclaimed, "you are hurting me." "I'll hurt you worse," he cried, in a broken voice, "if you cross this threshold to-night." But he released her wrist, and she, wrathful, indignant, terrified, retreated to the other end of the room. "Go out by the back door," he sneered, "if you want to go out. You have the key, haven't you?" "My father . . ." she began. "Yes!" he said. "Go and tell your father that I, Leopold Hirsch, your affianced husband, am browbeating you--making a scene, what?--because you have made an assignation with my lord the young Count, here--at night--under your father's roof--under the roof of a child of Israel! You! An assignation with a dirty Christian! . . . Bah! Go and tell your father that! And he will thrash you to within an inch of your life! We are Jews, he and I, and hold the honour of our women sacred--more sacred than their life!" "Don't be a fool, Leopold," she cried, feeling that indeed, between her father and this madman, her life had ceased to be safe. She looked round her helplessly. Three or four besotted fools lying helpless across the tables, and all the village dancing and making merry some two hundred m tres away, her father--implacable, as she well knew, where her conduct was concerned--and this madman ready to kill to satisfy his lust of vengeance and of hate--she felt that indeed, unless Heaven performed a miracle, here was the beginning of an awful, an irredeemable tragedy. "Leopold, don't be a fool," she reiterated, trying with all her might not to appear frightened or scared or confused. "I have promised Kapus Elsa to go to her dance for half an hour. I had forgotten all about it. I must go now." "Go and change your dress, then," he retorted with a sneer, "then you can go out by the back way. You have put the key away somewhere, haven't you? You know where it is." "You are mad about doors to-night. I tell you I am going out now, by that front door--at once." "And I tell you," he said, slowly and deliberately, "that if you cross the front door step I will call your father and tell him that you go and meet your lover--a Christian lover--the young Count--who would as soon think of marrying you as he would a nigger or a kitchen slut. Before you will have reached the high road your father and I will be on your heels, and either he or I will strangle you ere you come within sight of my lord's castle." "You are mad!" she cried. "Or else an idiot." "Better look for that back-door key," he retorted. "What has the back-door key to do with it?" she asked sullenly. "Only this," he replied, "that while that monkey-faced dog of a Christian was whispering to you just now, I know that the key was hanging on its usual peg, but I heard something about 'supper' and about 'ten o'clock.' May he break his neck, I say, and save me the job. Then he ordered me out of the room. Oh! I guessed! I am no fool, you know! When I came back I looked into your father's room--the key was gone, and I knew. And what I say is, why can't he come in by the front door like a man, if he has nothing to hide? Why must you let him come in like a thief by a back-door, if you have nothing to be ashamed of? The tap-room is open to anybody. Anybody can walk in and get a drink if they want to. Then why this whispering and this sneaking?" He was working himself up to a greater and ever greater passion of fury. He kept his voice low because he didn't want Ign cz Goldstein to hear--not just yet, at any rate--for Ign cz was a hard man and a stern father, and God only knew what he might not do if he was roused. Leopold did not want Klara hurt--not yet, at any rate--not until he was quite sure that she meant to play him altogether false. She was vain and frivolous, over-fond of dress and of queening it over the peasant girls of the village, but there was no real harm in her. She was immensely flattered by the young Count's attentions and over-ready to accept his presents in exchange for kisses and whisperings behind closed doors, but there was no real harm in her--so at least Leopold Hirsch kept repeating to himself time and again, whenever jealousy gnawed at his heart more roughly than he could endure. Just now that torment was almost unbearable, and the passion of fury into which he had worked himself blinded him momentarily to the dull, aching pain. Klara, as he spoke thus hoarsely, and brought his contorted face closer and closer to hers, had gradually shrunk more and more into the corner of the room, and there she remained now, flattened against the wall, her wide-open, terror-filled eyes fixed staringly upon this raving madman. "You asked just now," he continued, in the same hoarse, guttural whisper, which seemed literally to be racking and tearing his throat as it came, "what the back-door key had to do with my not going to meet my brother at Fiume. Well! It has this much to do with it, that you happen to be my tokened wife, that you happen to be of my race and of my blood, a sober, clean-living Jewess, please God, and not one of those frivolous, empty-headed Christian girls--you are that now, I know; if you were not I would kill you first and myself afterwards: therefore, if to-night I catch a thief--any thief, I don't care who he is--sneaking into this house by a back door when you happen to be here alone and seemingly unprotected, if I catch any kind of thief or malefactor, I say . . ." He paused, and she, through teeth that chattered, contrived to murmur: "Well? What do you say? Why don't you go on?" "Because you understand," he said, with calm as sudden and as terrible as his rage had been awhile ago. "I am not a Christian, you know, nor yet a gentleman. I cannot walk up either to my lord's castle or to one of these Christian Magyar peasants and strike him in the face for trying to rob me of that which is more precious to me than life. I am a Jew . . . a low-born, miserable Jew, whose whole race, origin and upbringing are despicable in the sight of the noble lords as well as of the Hungarian peasantry. Just a wretched creature whom one orders to hold one's horse, to brush one's boots, to stand out of one's way, anyhow; but not to meet as man to man, not to fight openly and frankly for the woman whom one loves. Well! You happen to be a Jewess too, and tokened to a Jew, and if either my lord or one of these d----d Magyar peasants chooses to come sneaking round you like a thief in the night, well . . ." He paused, and from the pocket of his shabby trousers he half drew out a long, sheathed hunting-knife, and then quickly hid it again from her sight. Klara smothered a desperate cry of terror. Leopold now turned his back on her; he went up to the table and seizing a carafe of water, he poured himself out a huge mugful and drank it down at a draught. The edge of the mug rattled against his teeth, his hand was trembling so that half the contents were poured down on his clothes. He did not look again on Klara, but having put the mug down, he passed his hand once or twice across his forehead as if to chase away some of those horrible thoughts which were still lurking in his brain. Then he took his cigarette-case out of his pocket, selected a cigarette, struck a match and lit it, still avoiding Klara's fixed and staring gaze. "I'll go and smoke this outside," he said quietly. "I can see both doors from the corner. When you have found that back-door key you may go to Elsa Kapus' wedding feast, but not before." He took a final look round the room, and his eyes, which had once more become dull and pale, rested with an infinite look of contempt upon the two or three besotted drunkards who, throughout this scene, had done no more than open and blink a sleepy eye. "Shall I turn these louts out for you now?" he asked. "No, no," she replied mechanically, "let them have their sleep. When they wake they'll go away all right." Just then the outer door was opened and Lakatos Andor's broad figure appeared upon the threshold. Leopold Hirsch gave him a nod, and without another look on Klara, he strode out into the night. CHAPTER XXI "Jealous, like a madman." "I came to see if B la was still here," said Andor, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold Hirsch. "One or two chaps whom I met awhile ago told me that he had not been seen in the barn this hour past, and that there was a lot of talk about it. I thought that if he were here, I could persuade you . . ." He paused, and looked more keenly at the girl. "What is it, Klara?" he asked; "you seem ill or upset . . ." She closed her eyes once or twice like someone just waking out of a dream, then she passed her hands over her forehead and over her hair. She felt completely dazed and stupid, as if she had received a stunning blow on the head, and while Andor talked she looked at him with staring eyes, not understanding a word that he said. "Yes--yes, Andor?" she said vaguely. "What can I do for you?" "Nothing much, my good Klara," he replied; "it was only about B la . . ." "Yes--about B la," she stammered; "won't . . . won't you sit down?" "Thank you, I will for a moment." She moved forward in order to get him a chair, but she found that she could not stand. The moment that she relinquished the prop of the wall, her knees gave way under her and she lurched forward against the table. She would have fallen had not Andor caught her and guided her to a chair, whereon she sank half fainting, with eyes closed and cheeks and lips the colour of ashes. Just for the moment the wild thought flew through his mind that she had been induced to drink by one of the men, but a closer look on her wan, pale face and into those dilated eyes of hers convinced him that the girl was in real and acute mental distress. He went up to the table and poured out a mug of wine, which he held to her lips. She drank eagerly, looking up at him the while with a strangely pathetic, eagerly appealing gaze. When he had taken the mug from her and replaced it on the table, he drew a chair close to her and said as kindly as he could, for he did not feel very well-disposed toward the girl who was the cause of much unhappiness to Elsa: "Now, Klara, you are going to tell me what is the matter with you." But already she had recovered herself a little, and Lakatos Andor's somewhat dictatorial tone grated upon her sensitive ear. "There's nothing the matter with me," she retorted, with a return of her habitual flippancy. "What should be the matter?" "I don't know," he said dryly; "and, of course, if you tell me that it's a private affair of your own and none of my business, why I'll be quite satisfied, and not ask any more questions. But if it's anything to do with B la . . ." "No, of course not," she broke in impatiently. "What should B la have to do with my affairs? B la has been gone from here this hour past." "And he is not coming back?" asked Andor searchingly. "I trust not," she replied fervently, and the young man noticed that the staring, terror-filled look once more crept into her eyes. "Very well, then," he said, rising, "that is all I wanted to know. I am sorry to have disturbed you. Good-night,

imminent

How many times the word 'imminent' appears in the text?

Fiume in half an hour." "To Fiume?" "Yes. You know he has a brother coming home from America." "I know that." "His ship is due in at Fiume the day after to-morrow. Leopold must start by the same train as your father to-night, in order to catch the express for Fiume at Budapesth to-morrow." "Did he tell you all that?" "I have known all along that he meant to meet his brother at Fiume, and yesterday he said something about it again. So you see, my pretty one, that we can have a comfortable little supper this evening without fear of interruption. We'll have it at ten o'clock, when the supper-party is going on at the barn, eh? We shan't be interrupted then. So give me that duplicate key, will you, and I can slip in quietly through the back door without raising a bit of gossip or scandal. Hurry up now! I shall have to be going." "I can't now," she protested. "Leopold hasn't taken his eyes off me all this time." "Oh! if that is all that is troubling you, my dear," said the young man coolly, "I can easily settle our friend Leopold. Hirsch!" he called loudly. "My lord?" queried the other, with the quick obsequiousness habitual to the down-trodden race. "My horse is kicking up such a row outside. I wish you'd just go and see if the boy is looking after him properly." Of course it was impossible to do anything but obey. My lord had commanded; in the ordinary way the poor Jew shopkeeper would have felt honoured to have been selected for individual recognition. Nor did he do more now than throw one of those swift looks of his--so full of hatred and of menace--upon Klara and the young man; but the latter, having given his orders, no longer condescended to take notice of the Jew and had once more engaged the girl in animated conversation. Had Klara thought of looking up when Leopold finally obeyed my lord's commands and went to look after the horse, she could not have failed to realize the danger which lurked in the young man's pale eyes then. His face, always pale and olive-tinted, was now the colour of ashes, grey and livid and blotched with purple, his lips looked white and quivering, and his eyebrows--of a reddish tinge--met above his nose in a deep, dark scowl. But my lord had thrown out a casual hint about a gold watch, and Klara had no further thought for her jealous admirer. "Now go and fetch the key," said Count Feri, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold. The hint of the gold watch had stirred Klara's pulses. A _t te- -t te_ with my lord was, moreover, greatly to her liking. He could be very amusing when he chose, and was always generous; and Klara's life was often dull and colourless. A pleasant evening spent in his company would compensate her in a measure for her disappointment at not being asked to Elsa's ball, and there was the gold watch to look forward to, above all. Taking an opportunity when her father was absorbed in his game of tarok, she went into the next room and presently returned with a key in her hand, which she surreptitiously gave to my lord. "Splendid!" exclaimed the young man gaily. "Klara, you are a gem, and after supper you shall just ask me for anything you have a fancy for, and I'll give it to you. Now I'd better go. Good-bye, little one. Ten o'clock sharp, eh?" "Ten o'clock," she repeated, under her breath. He strode to the door, outside which he found Leopold waiting for him. "The horse was quite quiet, my lord," said the Jew sullenly; "the boy had never left it for a moment." "Oh! that's all right, Hirsch," rejoined my lord indifferently. "I only wanted to know." Of course he never thought of saying a word of thanks or of excuse to the other man. What would you? A Jew! Bah! not even worth a nod of the head. Count Feri R kosy had quickly mounted his pretty, half-bred Arab mare--a click of the tongue and she was off with him, kicking up a cloud of dust in her wake. But Leopold Hirsch had remained for a moment standing on the doorstep of Ign cz Goldstein's house. He watched horse and rider through that cloud of dust, and along the straight and broad highway, until both had become a mere speck upon the low-lying horizon. "May you break your accursed neck!" he muttered fervently. Then he went back to the tap-room. CHAPTER XX "You happen to be of my race and of my blood." He strode at once to Klara, who greeted him with an ironical little smile and a coquettish look out of her dark eyes. "You never told me that you were going away to-night, my dear Leopold," she said suavely. "Who told you that I was?" he retorted savagely. "It seems to be pretty well known about the place. You seemed to have been talking about it pretty freely that you were going to Fiume to meet your brother when the ship he is on comes in." "I meant to tell you just now, only his lordship's arrival interrupted me," he said more quietly. "And since then you have been busy making a fool of yourself before my lord, eh?" she asked. "Bah!" "And compromising me into the bargain, what? But let me tell you this, my good Leopold, before we go any further, that I am not married to you yet, and that I don't like your airs of proprietorship, _sabe_?" He could not say anything more just then, for customers were departing, and she had to attend to them; he did not try to approach her while she was thus engaged, but presently, when her back was turned, he contrived to work his way across to the door which gave on the inner room, and to push it slightly open with his hand, until he could peep through the aperture and take a quick survey of the room beyond. Klara had not seen this manoeuvre of his, although she had cast more than one rapid and furtive glance upon him while she attended to her customers. She was thankful that he was going away for a few days; in his present mood he was positively dangerous. She had lighted the oil lamp which hung from the centre of the low, raftered ceiling, the hour was getting late, customers were all leaving now one by one. Er s B la was one of the last to go. He had drunk rather more silvorium than was good for him. He knew quite well that by absenting himself from the pre-nuptial festivals he had behaved in a disgraceful and unjustifiable manner which would surely be resented throughout the village, and though he was quite sure that he did not care one brass fill r what all those ignorant peasants thought of him, yet he felt it incumbent upon him to brace up his courage now, before meeting the hostile fusillade of eyes which would be sure to greet him on his return to the barn. He meant to put in a short appearance there, and then to finish his evening here in Klara's company. He felt that his dignity demanded that he should absent himself at any rate from the supper, seeing that Elsa had so grossly defied him. "At ten o'clock I'll be back, Klara," he whispered, in the girl's ear, as he was about to take his departure along with some of his friends, who also intended to go on to the dance in the barn. "Indeed you won't," she retorted decisively, "I have no use for you, my good B la. You are almost a married man now, remember!" she added with a laugh. "I'll bring those bottles of champagne," he urged; "don't be hard on me, Klara. I'll give you a good time to-night, and a nice present into the bargain." "And ruin my reputation for ever, eh? By walking into the tap-room when it's full of people and carrying two bottles of champagne under your arm--or staying on ostentatiously after everyone has gone and for everyone to gossip. No, thank you; I've already told you that I am not going to lend myself to your little games of vengeance. It isn't me you want, it's petty revenge upon Elsa. To that I say no, thank you, my good man." "Klara!" he pleaded. "No!" she said, and unceremoniously turned her back on him. He went off, sullen and morose, and not a little chaffed for his moroseness by his friends. The tap-room was almost deserted for the moment. In one or two corners only a few stragglers lingered; they were sprawling across the tables with arms outstretched. Ign cz Goldstein's silvorium had proved too potent and too plentiful. They lay there in a drunken sleep--logs that were of no account. Presently they would have to be thrown out, but there was no hurry for that--they were not in the way. Ign cz Goldstein had gone into the next room. Klara was busy tidying up the place; Leopold approached her with well-feigned contrition and humility. "I am sorry, Klara," he said. "I seemed to have had the knack to-night of constantly annoying you. So I'd best begone now, perhaps." "I bear no malice, Leo," she said quietly. "I thought I'd come back at about nine o'clock," he continued. "It is nearly eight now." She, thinking that he had his own journey in mind, remarked casually: "You'd best be here well before nine. The train leaves at nine-twenty, and father walks very slowly." "I won't be late," he said. "Best give me the key of the back door. I'll let myself in that way." "No occasion to do that," she retorted. "The front door will be open. You can come in that way like everybody else." "It's just a fancy," he said quietly; "there might be a lot of people about just then. I don't want to come through here. I thought I'd just slip in the back way as I often do. So give me the key, Klara, will you?" "How can I give you the key of the back door?" she said, equally quietly; "you know father always carries it in his coat pocket." "But there is a second key," he remarked, "which hangs on a nail by your father's bedside in the next room. Give me that one, Klara." "I shan't," she retorted. "I never heard such nonsense! As if I could allow you to use the private door of this house just as it suits your fancy. If you want to come in to-night and say good-bye, you must come in by the front door." "It's just a whim of mine, Klara," urged Leopold, now still speaking quietly--almost under his breath--but there was an ominous tremor in his voice and sudden sharp gleams in his eyes which the girl had already noted and which caused the blood to rush back to her heart, leaving her cheeks pale and her lips trembling. "Nonsense!" she contrived to say, with an indifferent shrug of the shoulders. "Just a whim," he reiterated. "So I'll take the key, by your leave." He turned to the door of the inner room and pushed it open, just as he had done awhile ago, and now--as then--he cast a rapid glance round the room. Klara, through half-closed lids, watched his every movement. "Why!" he exclaimed, turning back to her, and with a look of well-feigned surprise, "the key is not in its place." "I know it isn't," she retorted curtly. "Then where is it?" "I have put it away." "When? It was hanging on its usual nail when I first came here this afternoon. I remember the door being open, and my glancing into the room casually. I am sure it was there then." "It may have been: but I put it away after that." "Why should you have done that?" "I don't know, and, anyhow, it's no business of yours, is it?" "Give me that back-door key, Klara," insisted the young man, in a tone of savage command. "No!" she replied, slowly and decisively. There was silence in the little, low raftered room after that, a silence only broken by the buzzing of flies against the white globe of the lamp, and by the snores of the sleepers who sprawled across the tables. Leopold Hirsch had drawn in his breath with a low, hissing sound; his face, by the yellow light of the lamp, looked ghastly in colour, and his hands were twitching convulsively as the trembling fingers clenched and opened with a monotonous, jerky movement of attempted self-control. Klara had not failed to notice these symptoms of an agony of mind which the young man was so vainly trying to hide from her. For the moment she almost felt sorry for him--sorry and slightly remorseful. After all, Leo's frame of mind, the agony which he endured, came from the strength of his love for her. Neither Er s B la, nor the young Count, nor the many admirers who had hung round her in the past until such time as their fancy found more permanent anchorage elsewhere, would have suffered tortures of soul and of heart because she had indulged in a mild flirtation with a rival. Er s B la would have stormed and cursed, the young Count would have laid his riding-whip across the shoulders of his successful rival and there would have been an end of the matter. Leopold Hirsch would go down to hell and endure the torments of the damned, then return to heaven at a smile from her, and go back to hell again and glory in his misery. But just now she was frightened of him; he looked almost like a living corpse; the skin on his face was drawn so tightly over the bones that it gave him the appearance of a skull with hollow eyes and wide, grinning mouth. Outside an owl hooted dismally. Klara gave a slight shiver of fear and looked furtively round her to see if any of the drunkards were awake. Then she recollected that her father was in the next room, and presently, from afar, came shouts of laughter and the sound of music. She woke as from a nightmare, gave her fine shoulders a little shake, and looked boldly into her jealous lover's face. "By the Lord, Leo!" she said, with a little forced laugh, "you have given me the creeps, looking as you do. How dare you frighten me like that? With your clenched hands, too, as if you wanted to murder me. There, now, don't be such a silly fool. You have got a long journey before you; it's no use making yourself sick with jealousy just before you go." "I am not going on a journey," he said, in a toneless, even voice, which seemed to come from a grave. "Not going?" she said, with a frown of puzzlement. "You were going to Fiume to meet your brother, don't you remember? The ship he is on is due in the day after to-morrow. If you don't start to-night you won't be able to catch the express at Budapesth to-morrow." "I know all that," he said, in the same dull, monotonous tone; "I am not going, that's all." "But . . ." "I have changed my mind. Your father is going away. I must watch over you to see that no one molests you. Thieves might want to break in . . . one never knows . . . anyhow, my brother can look after himself . . . I stay to look after you." For a moment or two she stood quite still, her senses strained to grasp the meaning, the purport of the present situation--this madman on the watch outside--the young Count, key in hand, swaggering up to the back door at ten o'clock, when most folk would be at supper in the barn, her father gone, the village street wrapped in darkness! Leopold, by a violent and sudden effort, had regained mastery over the muscles of his face and hands, these no longer twitched now, and he answered her look of mute inquiry with one of well-feigned quietude. Only his breath he could not control, it passed through his throat with a stertorous sound, and every now and then he had to pass his tongue over his dry, cracked lips. Thus they stood for a moment eye to eye; and what she read in his glance caused a nameless fear to strike at her heart and to paralyse her will. But the next instant she had recovered her presence of mind. With quick, febrile movements she had already taken off her apron and with her hands smoothed her unruly dark hair. Then she made for the door. Less than a second and already he had guessed her purpose: before she could reach the door he had his back against it and his nervy fingers had grasped her wrist. "Where are you going?" "Out," she said curtly. "What for?" "That's none of your business." "What for?" he reiterated hoarsely. "Let go my wrist," she exclaimed, "you are hurting me." "I'll hurt you worse," he cried, in a broken voice, "if you cross this threshold to-night." But he released her wrist, and she, wrathful, indignant, terrified, retreated to the other end of the room. "Go out by the back door," he sneered, "if you want to go out. You have the key, haven't you?" "My father . . ." she began. "Yes!" he said. "Go and tell your father that I, Leopold Hirsch, your affianced husband, am browbeating you--making a scene, what?--because you have made an assignation with my lord the young Count, here--at night--under your father's roof--under the roof of a child of Israel! You! An assignation with a dirty Christian! . . . Bah! Go and tell your father that! And he will thrash you to within an inch of your life! We are Jews, he and I, and hold the honour of our women sacred--more sacred than their life!" "Don't be a fool, Leopold," she cried, feeling that indeed, between her father and this madman, her life had ceased to be safe. She looked round her helplessly. Three or four besotted fools lying helpless across the tables, and all the village dancing and making merry some two hundred m tres away, her father--implacable, as she well knew, where her conduct was concerned--and this madman ready to kill to satisfy his lust of vengeance and of hate--she felt that indeed, unless Heaven performed a miracle, here was the beginning of an awful, an irredeemable tragedy. "Leopold, don't be a fool," she reiterated, trying with all her might not to appear frightened or scared or confused. "I have promised Kapus Elsa to go to her dance for half an hour. I had forgotten all about it. I must go now." "Go and change your dress, then," he retorted with a sneer, "then you can go out by the back way. You have put the key away somewhere, haven't you? You know where it is." "You are mad about doors to-night. I tell you I am going out now, by that front door--at once." "And I tell you," he said, slowly and deliberately, "that if you cross the front door step I will call your father and tell him that you go and meet your lover--a Christian lover--the young Count--who would as soon think of marrying you as he would a nigger or a kitchen slut. Before you will have reached the high road your father and I will be on your heels, and either he or I will strangle you ere you come within sight of my lord's castle." "You are mad!" she cried. "Or else an idiot." "Better look for that back-door key," he retorted. "What has the back-door key to do with it?" she asked sullenly. "Only this," he replied, "that while that monkey-faced dog of a Christian was whispering to you just now, I know that the key was hanging on its usual peg, but I heard something about 'supper' and about 'ten o'clock.' May he break his neck, I say, and save me the job. Then he ordered me out of the room. Oh! I guessed! I am no fool, you know! When I came back I looked into your father's room--the key was gone, and I knew. And what I say is, why can't he come in by the front door like a man, if he has nothing to hide? Why must you let him come in like a thief by a back-door, if you have nothing to be ashamed of? The tap-room is open to anybody. Anybody can walk in and get a drink if they want to. Then why this whispering and this sneaking?" He was working himself up to a greater and ever greater passion of fury. He kept his voice low because he didn't want Ign cz Goldstein to hear--not just yet, at any rate--for Ign cz was a hard man and a stern father, and God only knew what he might not do if he was roused. Leopold did not want Klara hurt--not yet, at any rate--not until he was quite sure that she meant to play him altogether false. She was vain and frivolous, over-fond of dress and of queening it over the peasant girls of the village, but there was no real harm in her. She was immensely flattered by the young Count's attentions and over-ready to accept his presents in exchange for kisses and whisperings behind closed doors, but there was no real harm in her--so at least Leopold Hirsch kept repeating to himself time and again, whenever jealousy gnawed at his heart more roughly than he could endure. Just now that torment was almost unbearable, and the passion of fury into which he had worked himself blinded him momentarily to the dull, aching pain. Klara, as he spoke thus hoarsely, and brought his contorted face closer and closer to hers, had gradually shrunk more and more into the corner of the room, and there she remained now, flattened against the wall, her wide-open, terror-filled eyes fixed staringly upon this raving madman. "You asked just now," he continued, in the same hoarse, guttural whisper, which seemed literally to be racking and tearing his throat as it came, "what the back-door key had to do with my not going to meet my brother at Fiume. Well! It has this much to do with it, that you happen to be my tokened wife, that you happen to be of my race and of my blood, a sober, clean-living Jewess, please God, and not one of those frivolous, empty-headed Christian girls--you are that now, I know; if you were not I would kill you first and myself afterwards: therefore, if to-night I catch a thief--any thief, I don't care who he is--sneaking into this house by a back door when you happen to be here alone and seemingly unprotected, if I catch any kind of thief or malefactor, I say . . ." He paused, and she, through teeth that chattered, contrived to murmur: "Well? What do you say? Why don't you go on?" "Because you understand," he said, with calm as sudden and as terrible as his rage had been awhile ago. "I am not a Christian, you know, nor yet a gentleman. I cannot walk up either to my lord's castle or to one of these Christian Magyar peasants and strike him in the face for trying to rob me of that which is more precious to me than life. I am a Jew . . . a low-born, miserable Jew, whose whole race, origin and upbringing are despicable in the sight of the noble lords as well as of the Hungarian peasantry. Just a wretched creature whom one orders to hold one's horse, to brush one's boots, to stand out of one's way, anyhow; but not to meet as man to man, not to fight openly and frankly for the woman whom one loves. Well! You happen to be a Jewess too, and tokened to a Jew, and if either my lord or one of these d----d Magyar peasants chooses to come sneaking round you like a thief in the night, well . . ." He paused, and from the pocket of his shabby trousers he half drew out a long, sheathed hunting-knife, and then quickly hid it again from her sight. Klara smothered a desperate cry of terror. Leopold now turned his back on her; he went up to the table and seizing a carafe of water, he poured himself out a huge mugful and drank it down at a draught. The edge of the mug rattled against his teeth, his hand was trembling so that half the contents were poured down on his clothes. He did not look again on Klara, but having put the mug down, he passed his hand once or twice across his forehead as if to chase away some of those horrible thoughts which were still lurking in his brain. Then he took his cigarette-case out of his pocket, selected a cigarette, struck a match and lit it, still avoiding Klara's fixed and staring gaze. "I'll go and smoke this outside," he said quietly. "I can see both doors from the corner. When you have found that back-door key you may go to Elsa Kapus' wedding feast, but not before." He took a final look round the room, and his eyes, which had once more become dull and pale, rested with an infinite look of contempt upon the two or three besotted drunkards who, throughout this scene, had done no more than open and blink a sleepy eye. "Shall I turn these louts out for you now?" he asked. "No, no," she replied mechanically, "let them have their sleep. When they wake they'll go away all right." Just then the outer door was opened and Lakatos Andor's broad figure appeared upon the threshold. Leopold Hirsch gave him a nod, and without another look on Klara, he strode out into the night. CHAPTER XXI "Jealous, like a madman." "I came to see if B la was still here," said Andor, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold Hirsch. "One or two chaps whom I met awhile ago told me that he had not been seen in the barn this hour past, and that there was a lot of talk about it. I thought that if he were here, I could persuade you . . ." He paused, and looked more keenly at the girl. "What is it, Klara?" he asked; "you seem ill or upset . . ." She closed her eyes once or twice like someone just waking out of a dream, then she passed her hands over her forehead and over her hair. She felt completely dazed and stupid, as if she had received a stunning blow on the head, and while Andor talked she looked at him with staring eyes, not understanding a word that he said. "Yes--yes, Andor?" she said vaguely. "What can I do for you?" "Nothing much, my good Klara," he replied; "it was only about B la . . ." "Yes--about B la," she stammered; "won't . . . won't you sit down?" "Thank you, I will for a moment." She moved forward in order to get him a chair, but she found that she could not stand. The moment that she relinquished the prop of the wall, her knees gave way under her and she lurched forward against the table. She would have fallen had not Andor caught her and guided her to a chair, whereon she sank half fainting, with eyes closed and cheeks and lips the colour of ashes. Just for the moment the wild thought flew through his mind that she had been induced to drink by one of the men, but a closer look on her wan, pale face and into those dilated eyes of hers convinced him that the girl was in real and acute mental distress. He went up to the table and poured out a mug of wine, which he held to her lips. She drank eagerly, looking up at him the while with a strangely pathetic, eagerly appealing gaze. When he had taken the mug from her and replaced it on the table, he drew a chair close to her and said as kindly as he could, for he did not feel very well-disposed toward the girl who was the cause of much unhappiness to Elsa: "Now, Klara, you are going to tell me what is the matter with you." But already she had recovered herself a little, and Lakatos Andor's somewhat dictatorial tone grated upon her sensitive ear. "There's nothing the matter with me," she retorted, with a return of her habitual flippancy. "What should be the matter?" "I don't know," he said dryly; "and, of course, if you tell me that it's a private affair of your own and none of my business, why I'll be quite satisfied, and not ask any more questions. But if it's anything to do with B la . . ." "No, of course not," she broke in impatiently. "What should B la have to do with my affairs? B la has been gone from here this hour past." "And he is not coming back?" asked Andor searchingly. "I trust not," she replied fervently, and the young man noticed that the staring, terror-filled look once more crept into her eyes. "Very well, then," he said, rising, "that is all I wanted to know. I am sorry to have disturbed you. Good-night,

radically

How many times the word 'radically' appears in the text?

Fiume in half an hour." "To Fiume?" "Yes. You know he has a brother coming home from America." "I know that." "His ship is due in at Fiume the day after to-morrow. Leopold must start by the same train as your father to-night, in order to catch the express for Fiume at Budapesth to-morrow." "Did he tell you all that?" "I have known all along that he meant to meet his brother at Fiume, and yesterday he said something about it again. So you see, my pretty one, that we can have a comfortable little supper this evening without fear of interruption. We'll have it at ten o'clock, when the supper-party is going on at the barn, eh? We shan't be interrupted then. So give me that duplicate key, will you, and I can slip in quietly through the back door without raising a bit of gossip or scandal. Hurry up now! I shall have to be going." "I can't now," she protested. "Leopold hasn't taken his eyes off me all this time." "Oh! if that is all that is troubling you, my dear," said the young man coolly, "I can easily settle our friend Leopold. Hirsch!" he called loudly. "My lord?" queried the other, with the quick obsequiousness habitual to the down-trodden race. "My horse is kicking up such a row outside. I wish you'd just go and see if the boy is looking after him properly." Of course it was impossible to do anything but obey. My lord had commanded; in the ordinary way the poor Jew shopkeeper would have felt honoured to have been selected for individual recognition. Nor did he do more now than throw one of those swift looks of his--so full of hatred and of menace--upon Klara and the young man; but the latter, having given his orders, no longer condescended to take notice of the Jew and had once more engaged the girl in animated conversation. Had Klara thought of looking up when Leopold finally obeyed my lord's commands and went to look after the horse, she could not have failed to realize the danger which lurked in the young man's pale eyes then. His face, always pale and olive-tinted, was now the colour of ashes, grey and livid and blotched with purple, his lips looked white and quivering, and his eyebrows--of a reddish tinge--met above his nose in a deep, dark scowl. But my lord had thrown out a casual hint about a gold watch, and Klara had no further thought for her jealous admirer. "Now go and fetch the key," said Count Feri, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold. The hint of the gold watch had stirred Klara's pulses. A _t te- -t te_ with my lord was, moreover, greatly to her liking. He could be very amusing when he chose, and was always generous; and Klara's life was often dull and colourless. A pleasant evening spent in his company would compensate her in a measure for her disappointment at not being asked to Elsa's ball, and there was the gold watch to look forward to, above all. Taking an opportunity when her father was absorbed in his game of tarok, she went into the next room and presently returned with a key in her hand, which she surreptitiously gave to my lord. "Splendid!" exclaimed the young man gaily. "Klara, you are a gem, and after supper you shall just ask me for anything you have a fancy for, and I'll give it to you. Now I'd better go. Good-bye, little one. Ten o'clock sharp, eh?" "Ten o'clock," she repeated, under her breath. He strode to the door, outside which he found Leopold waiting for him. "The horse was quite quiet, my lord," said the Jew sullenly; "the boy had never left it for a moment." "Oh! that's all right, Hirsch," rejoined my lord indifferently. "I only wanted to know." Of course he never thought of saying a word of thanks or of excuse to the other man. What would you? A Jew! Bah! not even worth a nod of the head. Count Feri R kosy had quickly mounted his pretty, half-bred Arab mare--a click of the tongue and she was off with him, kicking up a cloud of dust in her wake. But Leopold Hirsch had remained for a moment standing on the doorstep of Ign cz Goldstein's house. He watched horse and rider through that cloud of dust, and along the straight and broad highway, until both had become a mere speck upon the low-lying horizon. "May you break your accursed neck!" he muttered fervently. Then he went back to the tap-room. CHAPTER XX "You happen to be of my race and of my blood." He strode at once to Klara, who greeted him with an ironical little smile and a coquettish look out of her dark eyes. "You never told me that you were going away to-night, my dear Leopold," she said suavely. "Who told you that I was?" he retorted savagely. "It seems to be pretty well known about the place. You seemed to have been talking about it pretty freely that you were going to Fiume to meet your brother when the ship he is on comes in." "I meant to tell you just now, only his lordship's arrival interrupted me," he said more quietly. "And since then you have been busy making a fool of yourself before my lord, eh?" she asked. "Bah!" "And compromising me into the bargain, what? But let me tell you this, my good Leopold, before we go any further, that I am not married to you yet, and that I don't like your airs of proprietorship, _sabe_?" He could not say anything more just then, for customers were departing, and she had to attend to them; he did not try to approach her while she was thus engaged, but presently, when her back was turned, he contrived to work his way across to the door which gave on the inner room, and to push it slightly open with his hand, until he could peep through the aperture and take a quick survey of the room beyond. Klara had not seen this manoeuvre of his, although she had cast more than one rapid and furtive glance upon him while she attended to her customers. She was thankful that he was going away for a few days; in his present mood he was positively dangerous. She had lighted the oil lamp which hung from the centre of the low, raftered ceiling, the hour was getting late, customers were all leaving now one by one. Er s B la was one of the last to go. He had drunk rather more silvorium than was good for him. He knew quite well that by absenting himself from the pre-nuptial festivals he had behaved in a disgraceful and unjustifiable manner which would surely be resented throughout the village, and though he was quite sure that he did not care one brass fill r what all those ignorant peasants thought of him, yet he felt it incumbent upon him to brace up his courage now, before meeting the hostile fusillade of eyes which would be sure to greet him on his return to the barn. He meant to put in a short appearance there, and then to finish his evening here in Klara's company. He felt that his dignity demanded that he should absent himself at any rate from the supper, seeing that Elsa had so grossly defied him. "At ten o'clock I'll be back, Klara," he whispered, in the girl's ear, as he was about to take his departure along with some of his friends, who also intended to go on to the dance in the barn. "Indeed you won't," she retorted decisively, "I have no use for you, my good B la. You are almost a married man now, remember!" she added with a laugh. "I'll bring those bottles of champagne," he urged; "don't be hard on me, Klara. I'll give you a good time to-night, and a nice present into the bargain." "And ruin my reputation for ever, eh? By walking into the tap-room when it's full of people and carrying two bottles of champagne under your arm--or staying on ostentatiously after everyone has gone and for everyone to gossip. No, thank you; I've already told you that I am not going to lend myself to your little games of vengeance. It isn't me you want, it's petty revenge upon Elsa. To that I say no, thank you, my good man." "Klara!" he pleaded. "No!" she said, and unceremoniously turned her back on him. He went off, sullen and morose, and not a little chaffed for his moroseness by his friends. The tap-room was almost deserted for the moment. In one or two corners only a few stragglers lingered; they were sprawling across the tables with arms outstretched. Ign cz Goldstein's silvorium had proved too potent and too plentiful. They lay there in a drunken sleep--logs that were of no account. Presently they would have to be thrown out, but there was no hurry for that--they were not in the way. Ign cz Goldstein had gone into the next room. Klara was busy tidying up the place; Leopold approached her with well-feigned contrition and humility. "I am sorry, Klara," he said. "I seemed to have had the knack to-night of constantly annoying you. So I'd best begone now, perhaps." "I bear no malice, Leo," she said quietly. "I thought I'd come back at about nine o'clock," he continued. "It is nearly eight now." She, thinking that he had his own journey in mind, remarked casually: "You'd best be here well before nine. The train leaves at nine-twenty, and father walks very slowly." "I won't be late," he said. "Best give me the key of the back door. I'll let myself in that way." "No occasion to do that," she retorted. "The front door will be open. You can come in that way like everybody else." "It's just a fancy," he said quietly; "there might be a lot of people about just then. I don't want to come through here. I thought I'd just slip in the back way as I often do. So give me the key, Klara, will you?" "How can I give you the key of the back door?" she said, equally quietly; "you know father always carries it in his coat pocket." "But there is a second key," he remarked, "which hangs on a nail by your father's bedside in the next room. Give me that one, Klara." "I shan't," she retorted. "I never heard such nonsense! As if I could allow you to use the private door of this house just as it suits your fancy. If you want to come in to-night and say good-bye, you must come in by the front door." "It's just a whim of mine, Klara," urged Leopold, now still speaking quietly--almost under his breath--but there was an ominous tremor in his voice and sudden sharp gleams in his eyes which the girl had already noted and which caused the blood to rush back to her heart, leaving her cheeks pale and her lips trembling. "Nonsense!" she contrived to say, with an indifferent shrug of the shoulders. "Just a whim," he reiterated. "So I'll take the key, by your leave." He turned to the door of the inner room and pushed it open, just as he had done awhile ago, and now--as then--he cast a rapid glance round the room. Klara, through half-closed lids, watched his every movement. "Why!" he exclaimed, turning back to her, and with a look of well-feigned surprise, "the key is not in its place." "I know it isn't," she retorted curtly. "Then where is it?" "I have put it away." "When? It was hanging on its usual nail when I first came here this afternoon. I remember the door being open, and my glancing into the room casually. I am sure it was there then." "It may have been: but I put it away after that." "Why should you have done that?" "I don't know, and, anyhow, it's no business of yours, is it?" "Give me that back-door key, Klara," insisted the young man, in a tone of savage command. "No!" she replied, slowly and decisively. There was silence in the little, low raftered room after that, a silence only broken by the buzzing of flies against the white globe of the lamp, and by the snores of the sleepers who sprawled across the tables. Leopold Hirsch had drawn in his breath with a low, hissing sound; his face, by the yellow light of the lamp, looked ghastly in colour, and his hands were twitching convulsively as the trembling fingers clenched and opened with a monotonous, jerky movement of attempted self-control. Klara had not failed to notice these symptoms of an agony of mind which the young man was so vainly trying to hide from her. For the moment she almost felt sorry for him--sorry and slightly remorseful. After all, Leo's frame of mind, the agony which he endured, came from the strength of his love for her. Neither Er s B la, nor the young Count, nor the many admirers who had hung round her in the past until such time as their fancy found more permanent anchorage elsewhere, would have suffered tortures of soul and of heart because she had indulged in a mild flirtation with a rival. Er s B la would have stormed and cursed, the young Count would have laid his riding-whip across the shoulders of his successful rival and there would have been an end of the matter. Leopold Hirsch would go down to hell and endure the torments of the damned, then return to heaven at a smile from her, and go back to hell again and glory in his misery. But just now she was frightened of him; he looked almost like a living corpse; the skin on his face was drawn so tightly over the bones that it gave him the appearance of a skull with hollow eyes and wide, grinning mouth. Outside an owl hooted dismally. Klara gave a slight shiver of fear and looked furtively round her to see if any of the drunkards were awake. Then she recollected that her father was in the next room, and presently, from afar, came shouts of laughter and the sound of music. She woke as from a nightmare, gave her fine shoulders a little shake, and looked boldly into her jealous lover's face. "By the Lord, Leo!" she said, with a little forced laugh, "you have given me the creeps, looking as you do. How dare you frighten me like that? With your clenched hands, too, as if you wanted to murder me. There, now, don't be such a silly fool. You have got a long journey before you; it's no use making yourself sick with jealousy just before you go." "I am not going on a journey," he said, in a toneless, even voice, which seemed to come from a grave. "Not going?" she said, with a frown of puzzlement. "You were going to Fiume to meet your brother, don't you remember? The ship he is on is due in the day after to-morrow. If you don't start to-night you won't be able to catch the express at Budapesth to-morrow." "I know all that," he said, in the same dull, monotonous tone; "I am not going, that's all." "But . . ." "I have changed my mind. Your father is going away. I must watch over you to see that no one molests you. Thieves might want to break in . . . one never knows . . . anyhow, my brother can look after himself . . . I stay to look after you." For a moment or two she stood quite still, her senses strained to grasp the meaning, the purport of the present situation--this madman on the watch outside--the young Count, key in hand, swaggering up to the back door at ten o'clock, when most folk would be at supper in the barn, her father gone, the village street wrapped in darkness! Leopold, by a violent and sudden effort, had regained mastery over the muscles of his face and hands, these no longer twitched now, and he answered her look of mute inquiry with one of well-feigned quietude. Only his breath he could not control, it passed through his throat with a stertorous sound, and every now and then he had to pass his tongue over his dry, cracked lips. Thus they stood for a moment eye to eye; and what she read in his glance caused a nameless fear to strike at her heart and to paralyse her will. But the next instant she had recovered her presence of mind. With quick, febrile movements she had already taken off her apron and with her hands smoothed her unruly dark hair. Then she made for the door. Less than a second and already he had guessed her purpose: before she could reach the door he had his back against it and his nervy fingers had grasped her wrist. "Where are you going?" "Out," she said curtly. "What for?" "That's none of your business." "What for?" he reiterated hoarsely. "Let go my wrist," she exclaimed, "you are hurting me." "I'll hurt you worse," he cried, in a broken voice, "if you cross this threshold to-night." But he released her wrist, and she, wrathful, indignant, terrified, retreated to the other end of the room. "Go out by the back door," he sneered, "if you want to go out. You have the key, haven't you?" "My father . . ." she began. "Yes!" he said. "Go and tell your father that I, Leopold Hirsch, your affianced husband, am browbeating you--making a scene, what?--because you have made an assignation with my lord the young Count, here--at night--under your father's roof--under the roof of a child of Israel! You! An assignation with a dirty Christian! . . . Bah! Go and tell your father that! And he will thrash you to within an inch of your life! We are Jews, he and I, and hold the honour of our women sacred--more sacred than their life!" "Don't be a fool, Leopold," she cried, feeling that indeed, between her father and this madman, her life had ceased to be safe. She looked round her helplessly. Three or four besotted fools lying helpless across the tables, and all the village dancing and making merry some two hundred m tres away, her father--implacable, as she well knew, where her conduct was concerned--and this madman ready to kill to satisfy his lust of vengeance and of hate--she felt that indeed, unless Heaven performed a miracle, here was the beginning of an awful, an irredeemable tragedy. "Leopold, don't be a fool," she reiterated, trying with all her might not to appear frightened or scared or confused. "I have promised Kapus Elsa to go to her dance for half an hour. I had forgotten all about it. I must go now." "Go and change your dress, then," he retorted with a sneer, "then you can go out by the back way. You have put the key away somewhere, haven't you? You know where it is." "You are mad about doors to-night. I tell you I am going out now, by that front door--at once." "And I tell you," he said, slowly and deliberately, "that if you cross the front door step I will call your father and tell him that you go and meet your lover--a Christian lover--the young Count--who would as soon think of marrying you as he would a nigger or a kitchen slut. Before you will have reached the high road your father and I will be on your heels, and either he or I will strangle you ere you come within sight of my lord's castle." "You are mad!" she cried. "Or else an idiot." "Better look for that back-door key," he retorted. "What has the back-door key to do with it?" she asked sullenly. "Only this," he replied, "that while that monkey-faced dog of a Christian was whispering to you just now, I know that the key was hanging on its usual peg, but I heard something about 'supper' and about 'ten o'clock.' May he break his neck, I say, and save me the job. Then he ordered me out of the room. Oh! I guessed! I am no fool, you know! When I came back I looked into your father's room--the key was gone, and I knew. And what I say is, why can't he come in by the front door like a man, if he has nothing to hide? Why must you let him come in like a thief by a back-door, if you have nothing to be ashamed of? The tap-room is open to anybody. Anybody can walk in and get a drink if they want to. Then why this whispering and this sneaking?" He was working himself up to a greater and ever greater passion of fury. He kept his voice low because he didn't want Ign cz Goldstein to hear--not just yet, at any rate--for Ign cz was a hard man and a stern father, and God only knew what he might not do if he was roused. Leopold did not want Klara hurt--not yet, at any rate--not until he was quite sure that she meant to play him altogether false. She was vain and frivolous, over-fond of dress and of queening it over the peasant girls of the village, but there was no real harm in her. She was immensely flattered by the young Count's attentions and over-ready to accept his presents in exchange for kisses and whisperings behind closed doors, but there was no real harm in her--so at least Leopold Hirsch kept repeating to himself time and again, whenever jealousy gnawed at his heart more roughly than he could endure. Just now that torment was almost unbearable, and the passion of fury into which he had worked himself blinded him momentarily to the dull, aching pain. Klara, as he spoke thus hoarsely, and brought his contorted face closer and closer to hers, had gradually shrunk more and more into the corner of the room, and there she remained now, flattened against the wall, her wide-open, terror-filled eyes fixed staringly upon this raving madman. "You asked just now," he continued, in the same hoarse, guttural whisper, which seemed literally to be racking and tearing his throat as it came, "what the back-door key had to do with my not going to meet my brother at Fiume. Well! It has this much to do with it, that you happen to be my tokened wife, that you happen to be of my race and of my blood, a sober, clean-living Jewess, please God, and not one of those frivolous, empty-headed Christian girls--you are that now, I know; if you were not I would kill you first and myself afterwards: therefore, if to-night I catch a thief--any thief, I don't care who he is--sneaking into this house by a back door when you happen to be here alone and seemingly unprotected, if I catch any kind of thief or malefactor, I say . . ." He paused, and she, through teeth that chattered, contrived to murmur: "Well? What do you say? Why don't you go on?" "Because you understand," he said, with calm as sudden and as terrible as his rage had been awhile ago. "I am not a Christian, you know, nor yet a gentleman. I cannot walk up either to my lord's castle or to one of these Christian Magyar peasants and strike him in the face for trying to rob me of that which is more precious to me than life. I am a Jew . . . a low-born, miserable Jew, whose whole race, origin and upbringing are despicable in the sight of the noble lords as well as of the Hungarian peasantry. Just a wretched creature whom one orders to hold one's horse, to brush one's boots, to stand out of one's way, anyhow; but not to meet as man to man, not to fight openly and frankly for the woman whom one loves. Well! You happen to be a Jewess too, and tokened to a Jew, and if either my lord or one of these d----d Magyar peasants chooses to come sneaking round you like a thief in the night, well . . ." He paused, and from the pocket of his shabby trousers he half drew out a long, sheathed hunting-knife, and then quickly hid it again from her sight. Klara smothered a desperate cry of terror. Leopold now turned his back on her; he went up to the table and seizing a carafe of water, he poured himself out a huge mugful and drank it down at a draught. The edge of the mug rattled against his teeth, his hand was trembling so that half the contents were poured down on his clothes. He did not look again on Klara, but having put the mug down, he passed his hand once or twice across his forehead as if to chase away some of those horrible thoughts which were still lurking in his brain. Then he took his cigarette-case out of his pocket, selected a cigarette, struck a match and lit it, still avoiding Klara's fixed and staring gaze. "I'll go and smoke this outside," he said quietly. "I can see both doors from the corner. When you have found that back-door key you may go to Elsa Kapus' wedding feast, but not before." He took a final look round the room, and his eyes, which had once more become dull and pale, rested with an infinite look of contempt upon the two or three besotted drunkards who, throughout this scene, had done no more than open and blink a sleepy eye. "Shall I turn these louts out for you now?" he asked. "No, no," she replied mechanically, "let them have their sleep. When they wake they'll go away all right." Just then the outer door was opened and Lakatos Andor's broad figure appeared upon the threshold. Leopold Hirsch gave him a nod, and without another look on Klara, he strode out into the night. CHAPTER XXI "Jealous, like a madman." "I came to see if B la was still here," said Andor, as soon as the door had closed on Leopold Hirsch. "One or two chaps whom I met awhile ago told me that he had not been seen in the barn this hour past, and that there was a lot of talk about it. I thought that if he were here, I could persuade you . . ." He paused, and looked more keenly at the girl. "What is it, Klara?" he asked; "you seem ill or upset . . ." She closed her eyes once or twice like someone just waking out of a dream, then she passed her hands over her forehead and over her hair. She felt completely dazed and stupid, as if she had received a stunning blow on the head, and while Andor talked she looked at him with staring eyes, not understanding a word that he said. "Yes--yes, Andor?" she said vaguely. "What can I do for you?" "Nothing much, my good Klara," he replied; "it was only about B la . . ." "Yes--about B la," she stammered; "won't . . . won't you sit down?" "Thank you, I will for a moment." She moved forward in order to get him a chair, but she found that she could not stand. The moment that she relinquished the prop of the wall, her knees gave way under her and she lurched forward against the table. She would have fallen had not Andor caught her and guided her to a chair, whereon she sank half fainting, with eyes closed and cheeks and lips the colour of ashes. Just for the moment the wild thought flew through his mind that she had been induced to drink by one of the men, but a closer look on her wan, pale face and into those dilated eyes of hers convinced him that the girl was in real and acute mental distress. He went up to the table and poured out a mug of wine, which he held to her lips. She drank eagerly, looking up at him the while with a strangely pathetic, eagerly appealing gaze. When he had taken the mug from her and replaced it on the table, he drew a chair close to her and said as kindly as he could, for he did not feel very well-disposed toward the girl who was the cause of much unhappiness to Elsa: "Now, Klara, you are going to tell me what is the matter with you." But already she had recovered herself a little, and Lakatos Andor's somewhat dictatorial tone grated upon her sensitive ear. "There's nothing the matter with me," she retorted, with a return of her habitual flippancy. "What should be the matter?" "I don't know," he said dryly; "and, of course, if you tell me that it's a private affair of your own and none of my business, why I'll be quite satisfied, and not ask any more questions. But if it's anything to do with B la . . ." "No, of course not," she broke in impatiently. "What should B la have to do with my affairs? B la has been gone from here this hour past." "And he is not coming back?" asked Andor searchingly. "I trust not," she replied fervently, and the young man noticed that the staring, terror-filled look once more crept into her eyes. "Very well, then," he said, rising, "that is all I wanted to know. I am sorry to have disturbed you. Good-night,

even

How many times the word 'even' appears in the text?