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Table of Contents
Expert Python Programming Second Edition
Credits
About the Authors
About the Reviewer
www.PacktPub.com
eBooks, discount offers, and more
Why subscribe?
Preface
What this book covers
What you need for this book
Who this book is for
Conventions
Reader feedback
Customer support
Downloading the example code
Errata
Piracy
Questions
1. Current Status of Python
Where are we now and where we are going?
Why and how does Python change?
Getting up to date with changes – PEP documents
Python 3 adoption at the time of writing this book
The main differences between Python 3 and Python 2
Why should I care?
The main syntax differences and common pitfalls
Syntax changes
Changes in the standard library
Changes in datatypes and collections
The popular tools and techniques used for maintaining cross-
version compatibility
Not only CPython
 Why should I care?
Stackless Python
Jython
IronPython
PyPy
Modern approaches to Python development
Application-level isolation of Python environments
Why isolation?
Popular solutions
virtualenv
venv
buildout
Which one to choose?
System-level environment isolation
Virtual development environments using Vagrant
Containerization versus virtualization
Popular productivity tools
Custom Python shells – IPython, bpython, ptpython, and so on
Setting up the PYTHONSTARTUP environment variable
IPython
bpython
ptpython
Interactive debuggers
Useful resources
Summary
2. Syntax Best Practices – below the Class Level
Python's built-in types
Strings and bytes
Implementation details
String concatenation
Collections
Lists and tuples
Implementation details
List comprehensions
Other idioms
Dictionaries
 Implementation details
Weaknesses and alternatives
Sets
Implementation details
Beyond basic collections – the collections module
Advanced syntax
Iterators
The yield statement
Decorators
General syntax and possible implementations
As a function
As a class
Parametrizing decorators
Introspection preserving decorators
Usage and useful examples
Argument checking
Caching
Proxy
Context provider
Context managers – the with statement
General syntax and possible implementations
As a class
As a function – the contextlib module
Other syntax elements you may not know yet
The for … else … statement
Function annotations
The general syntax
The possible uses
Summary
3. Syntax Best Practices – above the Class Level
Subclassing built-in types
Accessing methods from superclasses
Old-style classes and super in Python 2
Understanding Python's Method Resolution Order
super pitfalls
Mixing super and explicit class calls
 Heterogeneous arguments
Best practices
Advanced attribute access patterns
Descriptors
Real-life example – lazily evaluated attributes
Properties
Slots
Metaprogramming
Decorators – a method of metaprogramming
Class decorators
Using the __new__() method to override instance creation
process
Metaclasses
The general syntax
New Python 3 syntax for metaclasses
Metaclass usage
Metaclass pitfalls
Some tips on code generation
exec, eval, and compile
Abstract Syntax Tree
Import hooks
Projects using code generation patterns
Falcon's compiled router
Hy
Summary
4. Choosing Good Names
PEP 8 and naming best practices
Why and when to follow PEP 8?
Beyond PEP 8 – team-specific style guidelines
Naming styles
Variables
Constants
Naming and usage
Public and private variables
Functions and methods
The private controversy
 Special methods
Arguments
Properties
Classes
Modules and packages
The naming guide
Using the has or is prefix for Boolean elements
Using plurals for variables that are collections
Using explicit names for dictionaries
Avoiding generic names
Avoiding existing names
Best practices for arguments
Building arguments by iterative design
Trust the arguments and your tests
Using *args and **kwargs magic arguments carefully
Class names
Module and package names
Useful tools
Pylint
pep8 and flake8
Summary
5. Writing a Package
Creating a package
The confusing state of Python packaging tools
The current landscape of Python packaging thanks to PyPA
Tool recommendations
Project configuration
setup.py
setup.cfg
MANIFEST.in
Most important metadata
Trove classifiers
Common patterns
Automated inclusion of version string from package
README file
Managing dependencies
 The custom setup command
Working with packages during development
setup.py install
Uninstalling packages
setup.py develop or pip -e
Namespace packages
Why is it useful?
PEP 420 – implicit namespace packages
Namespace packages in previous Python versions
Uploading a package
PyPI – Python Package Index
Uploading to PyPI – or other package index
.pypirc
Source packages versus built packages
sdist
bdist and wheels
Standalone executables
When are standalone executables useful?
Popular tools
PyInstaller
cx_Freeze
py2exe and py2app
Security of Python code in executable packages
Making decompilation harder
Summary
6. Deploying Code
The Twelve-Factor App
Deployment automation using Fabric
Your own package index or index mirror
PyPI mirroring
Deployment using a package
Common conventions and practices
The filesystem hierarchy
Isolation
Using process supervision tools
Application code should be run in user space
 Using reverse HTTP proxies
Reloading processes gracefully
Code instrumentation and monitoring
Logging errors – sentry/raven
Monitoring system and application metrics
Dealing with application logs
Basic low-level log practices
Tools for log processing
Summary
7. Python Extensions in Other Languages
Different language means – C or C++
How do extensions in C or C++ work
Why you might want to use extensions
Improving performance in critical code sections
Integrating existing code written in different languages
Integrating third-party dynamic libraries
Creating custom datatypes
Writing extensions
Pure C extensions
A closer look at Python/C API
Calling and binding conventions
Exception handling
Releasing GIL
Reference counting
Cython
Cython as a source to source compiler
Cython as a language
Challenges
Additional complexity
Debugging
Interfacing with dynamic libraries without extensions
ctypes
Loading libraries
Calling C functions using ctypes
Passing Python functions as C callbacks
CFFI
 Summary
8. Managing Code
Version control systems
Centralized systems
Distributed systems
Distributed strategies
Centralized or distributed?
Use Git if you can
Git flow and GitHub flow
Continuous development processes
Continuous integration
Testing every commit
Merge testing through CI
Matrix testing
Continuous delivery
Continuous deployment
Popular tools for continuous integration
Jenkins
Buildbot
Travis CI
GitLab CI
Choosing the right tool and common pitfalls
Problem 1 – too complex build strategies
Problem 2 – too long building time
Problem 3 – external job definitions
Problem 4 – lack of isolation
Summary
9. Documenting Your Project
The seven rules of technical writing
Write in two steps
Target the readership
Use a simple style
Limit the scope of information
Use realistic code examples
Use a light but sufficient approach
Use templates
 A reStructuredText primer
Section structure
Lists
Inline markup
Literal block
Links
Building the documentation
Building the portfolio
Design
Usage
Recipe
Tutorial
Module helper
Operations
Making your own portfolio
Building the landscape
Producer's layout
Consumer's layout
Working on the index pages
Registering module helpers
Adding index markers
Cross-references
Documentation building and continuous integration
Summary
10. Test-Driven Development
I don't test
Test-driven development principles
Preventing software regression
Improving code quality
Providing the best developer documentation
Producing robust code faster
What kind of tests?
Acceptance tests
Unit tests
Functional tests
Integration tests
 Load and performance testing
Code quality testing
Python standard test tools
unittest
doctest
I do test
unittest pitfalls
unittest alternatives
nose
Test runner
Writing tests
Writing test fixtures
Integration with setuptools and a plug-in system
Wrap-up
py.test
Writing test fixtures
Disabling test functions and classes
Automated distributed tests
Wrap-up
Testing coverage
Fakes and mocks
Building a fake
Using mocks
Testing environment and dependency compatibility
Dependency matrix testing
Document-driven development
Writing a story
Summary
11. Optimization – General Principles and Profiling Techniques
The three rules of optimization
Make it work first
Work from the user's point of view
Keep the code readable and maintainable
Optimization strategy
Find another culprit
Scale the hardware
 Writing a speed test
Finding bottlenecks
Profiling CPU usage
Macro-profiling
Micro-profiling
Measuring Pystones
Profiling memory usage
How Python deals with memory
Profiling memory
objgraph
C code memory leaks
Profiling network usage
Summary
12. Optimization – Some Powerful Techniques
Reducing the complexity
Cyclomatic complexity
The big O notation
Simplifying
Searching in a list
Using a set instead of a list
Cut the external calls, reduce the workload
Using collections
deque
defaultdict
namedtuple
Using architectural trade-offs
Using heuristics and approximation algorithms
Using task queues and delayed processing
Using probabilistic data structures
Caching
Deterministic caching
Nondeterministic caching
Cache services
Memcached
Summary
13. Concurrency
 Why concurrency?
Multithreading
What is multithreading?
How Python deals with threads
When should threading be used?
Building responsive interfaces
Delegating work
Multiuser applications
An example of a threaded application
Using one thread per item
Using a thread pool
Using two-way queues
Dealing with errors and rate limiting
Multiprocessing
The built-in multiprocessing module
Using process pools
Using multiprocessing.dummy as a multithreading interface
Asynchronous programming
Cooperative multitasking and asynchronous I/O
Python async and await keywords
asyncio in older versions of Python
A practical example of asynchronous programming
Integrating nonasynchronous code with async using futures
Executors and futures
Using executors in an event loop
Summary
14. Useful Design Patterns
Creational patterns
Singleton
Structural patterns
Adapter
Interfaces
Using zope.interface
Using function annotations and abstract base classes
Using collections.abc
Proxy
 Facade
Behavioral patterns
Observer
Visitor
Template
Summary
Index
Expert Python Programming
Second Edition
Other documents randomly have
different content
what comes o’ steamer trainin’. I’d sooner trust Sue to sail her nor him.
[Waves his arm and shouts.] Come about!
Nat—[Bitterly.] He seems to be heading straight for the open sea. He’s
taking quite a sail, it seems to me.
Bartlett—[As if he couldn’t believe his eyes.] He’s passed the p’int—
and now—headin’ her out to sea—so’east by east. By God, that be the
course I charted for her! [Sue bursts out sobbing. He wheels on her, his
mouth fallen open, his face full of a stupid despair.] They be somethin’
wrong here. What be it, Sue? What be it, Nat? [His voice has begun to
quiver with passion.] That schooner—she’s sailin’ without me—— [He
suddenly springs at Nat and grabs him by the throat—with hoarse fury,
shaking him.] What be it, ye whelp? It’s your doin’—because I wouldn’t let
ye go. Answer me!
Sue—[Rushing to them with a scream.] Pa! [She tugs frantically at his
hands. Bartlett lets them fall to his side, stepping back from Nat who
sinks weakly to the ground, gasping for breath. Bartlett stands looking at
him wildly.]
Sue—Nat didn’t know, Pa. It’s all my fault. I had to do it. There was no
other way——
Bartlett—[Raging.] What d’ye mean, girl? What is it ye’ve done? Tell
me, I say! Tell me or I’ll——
Sue—[Unflinchingly.] You had to be stopped from going someway. You
wouldn’t listen to reason. So I asked Danny if he wouldn’t make the trip in
your place. He’s just got his captain’s papers—and oh, Pa, you can trust
him, you know that! That man Horne said he knows about everything you
wanted done, and he promised to tell Danny, and Danny’ll come back——
Bartlett—[Chokingly.] So—that be it—— [Shaking his clenched fist at
the sky as if visualizing the fate he feels in all of this.] Curse ye! Curse ye!
[He subsides weakly, his strength spent, his hand falls limply at his side.]
Mrs. Bartlett—[Appears in the doorway. Her face is pale with
anguish. She gives a cry of joy when she sees her son.] Nat! [Then with a
start of horror at her eyes fall on her husband.] Isaiah! [He doesn’t seem to
hear.] Then—you ain’t sailed yet?
Sue—[Going to her—gently.] No, Ma, he isn’t going to sail. He’s going
to stay home with you. But the schooner’s gone. See. [She points and her
mother’s eyes turn seaward.]
 Bartlett—[Aloud to himself—in a tone of groping superstitious awe
and bewildered fear.] They be somethin’ queer—somethin’ wrong—they be
a curse in this somewhere——
Mrs. Bartlett—[Turning accusing eyes on him—with a sort of
fanatical triumph.] I’m glad to hear you confess that, Isaiah. Yes, there be a
curse—God’s curse on the wicked sinfulness o’ men—and I thank God
He’s saved you from the evil of that voyage, and I’ll pray Him to visit His
punishment and His curse on them three men on that craft you forced me to
give my name—— [She has raised her hand as if calling down retribution
on the schooner she can dimly see.]
Sue—[Terrified.] Ma!
Bartlett—[Starting toward his wife with an insane yell of fury.] Stop it,
I tell ye! [He towers over her with upraised fist as if to crush her.]
Sue—Pa!
Nat—[Starting to his feet from where he has been sitting on the ground
—hoarsely.] Pa! For God’s sake!
Mrs. Bartlett—[Gives a weak, frightened gasp.] Would you murder
me too, Isaiah? [She closes her eyes and collapses in Sue’s arms.]
Sue—[Tremblingly.] Nat! Help me! Quick! We must carry her to bed.
[They take their mother in their arms, carrying her inside the house.]
Bartlett—[While they are doing this, rushes in his mad frenzy to the
platform over the edge of the cliff. He puts his hands to his mouth,
megaphone-fashion, and yells with despairing rage.] Ahoy! Ahoy! Sarah
Allen! Put back! Put back! [as

[The Curtain Falls]

ACT FOUR
Scene—About nine o’clock of a moonlight night one year later—Captain
Bartlett’s “cabin,” a room erected on the top of his house as a lookout
post. The interior is fitted up like the cabin of a sailing vessel. On the left,
forward, a porthole. Farther back, the stairs of the companionway. Still
farther, two more portholes. In the rear, left, a marble-topped sideboard.
In the rear, center, a door opening on stairs which lead to the lower house.
A cot with a blanket is placed against the wall to the right of door. In the
right wall, five portholes. Directly under them, a wooden bench. In front of
the bench, a long table with two chairs placed, one in front, one to the left
of it. A cheap, dark-colored rug is on the floor. In the ceiling, midway from
front to rear, a skylight extending from opposite the door to above the left
edge of the table. In the right extremity of the skylight is placed a floating
ship’s compass. The light from the binnacle sheds down over this and
seeps into the room, casting a vague globular shadow of the compass on
the floor. Moonlight creeps in through the portholes on the right. A lighted
lantern is on the table.
As the curtain rises, Sue and Doctor Berry are discovered sitting by
the table. The doctor is a man of sixty or so, hale and hearty-looking, his
white hair and mustache setting off his ruddy completion. His blue eyes
have a gentle expression, his smile is kindly and sympathetic. His whole
manner toward Sue is that of the old family doctor and friend, not the least
of whose duties is to play father-confessor to his patients. She is dressed in
deep mourning. She looks much older. Her face is pale and plainly marked
by the ravages of suffering and grief. But there is an excited elation in her
face at present, her eyes are alight with some unexpected joy.
Sue—[Excitedly.] And here is Danny’s letter, Doctor—to prove it’s all
true. [She takes a letter from the bosom of her dress and holds it out to him.]
Doctor—[Takes it with a smile, patting her hand.] I can’t say how glad
I am, Susan. Coming after we’d all given him up for lost—it’s like a
miracle. Eh, well, I can hardly believe——
Sue—[Smiling happily.] Read what he says. Then you won’t doubt.
Doctor—[Hesitating—playfully.] I don’t know that it’s right for me—
love letters at my age!
Sue—Go ahead. I want you to read it. [He reaches in his pocket for his
spectacles. Sue continues gratefully.] As if I could have any secrets from
you after all you’ve done for us since Ma died. You’ve been the only friend
—— [She stops, her lips trembling.]
Doctor—Tut-tut. [He adjusts his spectacles and peers at her over
them.] Who wouldn’t be of all the service he could to a brave girl like you
—and I who’ve known you since you were so high! Eh, well, my dear girl,
this past year—with your mother’s death—the state your father’s in—and
then the news of the schooner being reported lost—one damn thing on top
of another! You’ve borne the whole brunt of it on your shoulders and stood
up like a major. I’ll tell Danny when he comes he ought to get down on his
knees and thank God for getting such a wife!
Sue—[Flushing.] You’re too good. I don’t deserve it. It was just a case
where someone had to carry things on.
Doctor—Not many could have stood it—living in this house with him
the way he is—even if he was their father.
Sue—[Glancing up at the skylight—apprehensively.] Ssshh! He might
hear you.
Doctor—[Listening intently.] Not him. There he goes pacing up and
down up there in the night, looking out to sea for that ship that will never
come back! And your brother Nat is getting just as bad. [Shaking himself.]
Brrr! This house of mad dreams! It’s the crowning wonder to me you
haven’t lost your balance too—spending nearly all of your time in this crazy
cabin—afraid to go out—afraid of what he might do——
Sue—Don’t you think Pa’ll come to realize the schooner is lost as time
goes by and she doesn’t come back?
Doctor—If he was going to realize that, the report of the facts five
months ago would have convinced him. There it was, plain as the nose on
your face. British freighter reports finding derelict schooner. Steams near
enough to read the name on the stern—Sarah Allen, Harborport. Well, who
could get around that evidence except a man with an obsession? No, your
father won’t let himself look the facts in the face. If he did, probably the
shock of it would kill him. That darn dream of his has become his life. No,
Susan, as time goes on he’ll believe in it harder and harder. After observing
him for the past year—and I speak for his own sake, too, as his good friend
for twenty years or more—my final advice is the same: Send him to an
asylum.
Sue—[With a shudder.] No, Doctor.
 Doctor—[Shaking his head.] You’ll have to come to it in time. He’s
getting worse. No one can tell—he might get violent——
Sue—How can you say that? You know how gentle and sane he is with
me—just like he used to be in the old days.
Doctor—You’re his last connecting link with things as they are—but
that can’t last. On the other hand, I think that if we got him away from the
sea, from this house, especially from this crazy cabin and the ship’s deck he
had built up there—[He nods upward.]—that perhaps——
Sue—[With conviction.] No. It would kill him to leave it.
Doctor—Eh, well, my dear, one thing you’ve got to realize: Your father
and Nat must be separated somehow. Nat’s going to pieces. He’s lost his
job, he moons about this house, he takes no interest in anything but this
craziness. I’ll bet he doesn’t believe that schooner is lost any more than
your father does.
Sue—You mean he still hopes it may not be true. That’s only natural.
He’s in San Francisco now tracing down the report again. He saw in the
papers where the British freighter that found the derelict was in port again
and he went to talk with the people on board. I’m hoping he’ll come back
fully convinced, with the whole thing out of his mind.
Doctor—[Shaking his head—gravely.] I’ve watched him and talked
with him—— Why, even your father seems to realize, in his twisted way,
that he has a bad effect on Nat.
Sue—Yes, as I’ve told you before, he hasn’t spoken to Nat alone since
the schooner sailed a year ago. And Nat sneaks about trying to spy on him
—and I have to be always on the watch to keep them apart—— It’s terrible.
Doctor—You’ve got to persuade Nat to go away, Susan.
Sue—He won’t heed me—but I was thinking that now Danny is coming
back, I’d get him——
Doctor—There’s another thing. You can’t continue to play slave to
these two after you’re married.
Sue—[Miserably.] We’ll have to wait a while longer——
Doctor—[Roughly.] Rats! You can’t sacrifice any more of your life and
Danny’s to mad dreams.
Sue—[Helplessly.] I don’t know—— [Then brightening.] That’ll all be
decided when the time comes. Just now it’s enough to know Danny’s alive
and coming back. Read his letter, Doctor. You’ve been holding it in your
hand all this time.
Doctor—Yes, yes, let’s see. [He takes the letter from the envelope.]
Sue—Poor Danny! He’s been through terrible things.
Doctor—Hmm! Rangoon.
Sue—Yes, he’s still in the hospital there. You’ll see.
Doctor—[Reads the letter—grunts with astonishment—angrily.] By
Gad! The damn scoundrels!
Sue—[Shuddering.] Yes, wasn’t it hideous—those awful men stabbing
him and leaving him for dead in that out of the way native settlement! The
natives nursed him back to life, have you got that far yet? And then he was
laid up for four months there waiting for a vessel to touch and take him
back to civilization. And then, think of it, getting the fever on top of all that
and nearly dying in the hospital in Rangoon!
Doctor—A terrible time of it! He’s lucky to be alive. Hmm. I see he
foresaw the wreck of the schooner. Those brutes couldn’t navigate. [Folding
the letter and putting it back.] He doesn’t seem to have found out what the
purpose of that mad trip was. Horne hid it from him to the last, he says.
Well, it’s queer—damn queer. But I’m glad to know those wretches have
gone to their final accounting.
Sue—[With a shudder.] I was always afraid of them. They looked like—
murderers. [At a noise from below they both start. Steps can be heard
climbing the stairs. Sue jumps to her feet frightenedly.] Why—do you hear
—who can that be? [There is a soft rap on the door. The Doctor jumps to
his feet. Sue turns to him with a half-hysterical laugh.] Shall I open? I don’t
know why—but I’m afraid.
Doctor—Tut-tut! I’ll see who it is. [He opens the door and Nat is
discovered on the stairs outside.] Why hello, boy. You gave us a scare.
Susan thought it was a ghost knocking.
Nat—[Comes into the room. He has aged, grown thin, his face gaunt
and drawn from continual mental strain, his eyes moody and preoccupied.
He glances up at the skylight apprehensively, then turns to Sue.] I didn’t
find you downstairs so I—— [Then to the Doctor.] Yes, you do grow to
look for ghosts in this house, don’t you? [Again glancing upward.] He’s up
there as usual, I suppose—looking for a ship that’ll never, never come now!
 Doctor—[With a grunt of approval.] I’m glad to hear you acknowledge
that.
Sue—[Who is just recovering from her fright.] But, Nat, I didn’t expect
you—— Did you find out——?
Nat—Yes, I talked with several of the men who were on board at the
time. They said they steamed in so close to the schooner it was easy to read
the name with the naked eye. All agreed—Sarah Allen, Harborport. They
even remembered how her tafrail was painted. There’s no chance for
mistake. The Sarah Allen is gone. [With great emphasis.] And I’m glad—
damn glad! I feel as if a weight of lead had been taken off my brain. I feel
free again, and I can go back to work—but not here. I’ve got to go away—
start new altogether.
Sue—[Happily, coming and putting her arms around him.] It’s so good
to hear you talk like your old self again.
Doctor—[Earnestly.] Yes, Nat, by Gad, that’s sound sense. Get out of
this.
Nat—[Giving him a queer look.] I suppose you thought I was doomed,
eh?—like him. [He makes a motion upward—then with an uncertain laugh.]
A doctor’s always looking for trouble where there isn’t any. [In a tone of
finality.] Well, it’s all over, anyway.
Sue—[Snatching the letter from the table.] Oh, I was forgetting, Nat.
Read this. I got it yesterday.
Nat—[Turns it over in his hands suspiciously.] Who from?
Sue—Open it and see.
Nat—[Does so and turns over the pages to read the signature—he gives
a start—hoarsely.] Danny! It can’t be! But it’s his writing sure enough! [He
exclaims with a sudden wild exultation.] Then they must have been lying to
me!
Sue—No, the Sarah Allen was wrecked all right, but that was
afterwards. He wasn’t on board then. Read it. You’ll see. [Nat sinks back on
a chair, evidently depressed by this information. He starts to read the letter
with unconcealed indifference, then becomes engrossed, excited, the paper
trembling in his hands. The Doctor shakes his head at Sue indicating his
disapproval of her giving him the letter. Nat finishes and springs to his feet
—angrily.]
 Nat—The stupid fool! He let Horne pull the wool over his eyes in fine
shape. He deserved all he got for being so dumb!
Sue—[Indignantly.] Nat!
Nat—[Unheedingly.] Oh, if I could only have gone in his place! I knew
the kind Horne was. He couldn’t have played that trick on me. I’d have
forced the secret out of him if I had to—— [He raises his clenched fist in a
gesture of threat like his father’s—then lets it fall and sits down again—
disgustedly.] But what’s the use? And what’s the use of this? [Tosses the
letter contemptuously on the table.] He might just as well not have written.
We’re no wiser than we were before.
Sue—[Snatching up the letter—deeply hurt.] Aren’t you even glad to
hear Danny’s alive?
Nat—[Turning to her at once—with remorseful confusion.] Yes—yes—
of course, Sue—I don’t have to say that, do I? What I mean is, he never
found out from Horne—and we’re no wiser.
Doctor—[Briskly—with a significant glance at Sue.] Well, Susan—Nat
—I’ve got to run along—[Meaningly.] I’ll be over again tomorrow, Susan.
Sue—Yes, do come. [Goes with him to the door.] Can you see your way?
Doctor—Yes. Good night.
Sue—Good night. [She closes the door and comes back to Nat. The
Doctor’s footsteps die out.]
Nat—[Savagely.] That damned old fool! What is he doing, sneaking
around here all the time? I’ve grown to hate the sight of him.
Sue—Nat! You can’t mean that. Think of how kind he’s been.
Nat—Yes—kindness with a purpose.
Sue—Don’t be silly. What purpose could he have except wanting to help
us?
Nat—To find out things, of course, you simpleton. To pump Pa when
he’s not responsible for what he’s saying.
Sue—[Indignantly.] Nat!
Nat—Much good it’s done him! I know Pa. Sane or not, he won’t tell
that to anyone—not even you or me, Sue. [With sudden fury.] I’m going
away—but before I go I’m going to make him tell me! He won’t refuse this
time when he knows I’m leaving for good. He’ll be glad then. He’s been so
afraid I’d find out, so scared to speak to me even—locking himself up here.
But I’ll make him tell—yes, I will!
Sue—Careful, Nat. He’ll hear you if you shout like that.
Nat—But we have a right to know—his own children. What if he dies
without ever speaking?
Sue—[Uneasily.] Be sensible, Nat. There’s nothing to tell except in your
imagination. [Taking his arm—persuasively.] Come on downstairs. I’ll get
you something to eat. You must be starved, aren’t you?
Nat—No—I don’t know—I suppose I ought to be. [He gets to his feet
and glances around with a shudder.] What a place for him to build to wait
in—like the cabin of a ship sunk deep under the sea—like the Sarah Allen’s
cabin as it is now, probably. [With a shiver.] There’s a chill comes over you.
No wonder he’s mad. [He listens.] Hear him. A year ago today she sailed. I
wonder if he knows that. Back and forth, always staring out to sea for the
Sarah Allen. Ha-ha! God! It would be funny if it didn’t make your flesh
creep. [Brusquely.] Come on. Let’s leave him and go down where there’s
light and warmth. [They go down the stairs, closing the door behind them.
There is a pause. Then the door of the companionway above is heard being
opened and shut. A gust of wind sweeps down into the room. Bartlett
stamps down the stairs. The madness which has taken almost complete
possession of him in the past year is clearly stamped on his face,
particularly in his eyes which seem to stare through and beyond objects
with a hunted, haunted expression. His movements suggest an automaton
obeying invisible wires. They are quick, jerky, spasmodic. He appears to be
laboring under a state of extraordinary excitement. He stands for a second
at the foot of the stairs, peering about him suspiciously. Then he goes to the
table and sits down on the edge of a chair, his chin supported on his hands.]
Bartlett—[Takes a folded piece of paper from his pocket and spreads it
out on the table in the light of the lantern—pointing with his finger—
mumblingly.] Where the cross be—ye’ll not forget that, Silas Horne. Ye had
a copy o’ this—no chance for a mistake, bullies—the gold’s there, restin’
safe—back to me and we’ll share it fair and square. A year ago today—ye
remember the orders I wrote ye, Horne. [Threateningly.] Ye’ll not be gone
more nor a year or I’ll—and if ye make port to home here at night, hang a
red and a green light at the mainm’st head so I’ll see ye comin.’ A red and a
green—— [He springs up suddenly and goes to a porthole to look out at the
sea—disappointedly.] No light be there—but they’ll come. The year be up
today and ye’ve got to come or I’ll—— [He sinks back on the chair, his
head in his hands. Suddenly he starts and stares straight in front of him as if
he saw something in the air—with angry defiance.] Aye, there ye be again
—the two o’ ye! Makin’ a mock o’ me! Brass and junk, ye say, not worth a
damn! Ye don’t believe, do ye? I’ll show ye! [He springs to his feet and
makes a motion as if grabbing someone by the throat and shaking them—
savagely.] Ye lie! Is it gold or no? Answer me! [With a mocking laugh.]
Aye, ye own up to it now, right enough. Too late, ye swabs! No share for ye!
[He sinks back on the chair again—after a pause, dully.] Jimmy’s gone. Let
them rot. But I spoke no word, Silas Horne, remember! [Then in a tone of
fear.] Be ye dyin’, Sarah? No, ye must live—live to see your ship come
home with the gold—and I’ll buy ye all in the world ye set your heart on.
No, not ambergris, Sarah—gold and diamonds and sech! We’re rich at last!
[Then with great anguish.] What woman’s stubborn talk be this? Confess,
ye say? But I spoke no word, I swear to ye! Why will ye hound me and
think evil o’ what I done? Men’s business, I tell ye. They would have killed
us and stolen the gold, can’t ye see? [Wildly.] Enough o’ talk, Sarah! I’ll sail
out in spite o’ ye! [He gets to his feet and paces up and down the room. The
door in the rear is opened and Nat re-enters. He glances at his father, then
looks down the stairs behind him cautiously to see if he is followed. He
comes in and closes the door behind him carefully.]
Nat—[In a low voice.] Pa! [Then as his father does not appear to notice
his presence—louder.] Pa!
Bartlett—[Stops short and stares at his son as if he were gradually
awakening from a dream—slowly.] Be that ye, Nat?
Nat—[Coming forward.] Yes. I want to talk with you.
Bartlett—[Struggling to bring his thoughts under control.] Talk? Ye
want to talk—to me? Men’s business—no room for a boy in it—keep clear
o’ this.
Nat—[Defiantly.] That’s what you’ve always said. But I won’t be put off
any longer. I won’t, do you hear?
Bartlett—[Angrily.] I’ve ordered ye not to set foot in this cabin o’
mine. Git below where ye belong. Where’s Sue? I told her to keep ye away.
Nat—She can’t prevent me this time. I’ve made up my mind. Listen, Pa.
I’m going away tomorrow.
 Bartlett—[Uncertainly.] Goin’ away?
Nat—Yes, and I’m never coming back. I’m going to start a new life.
That’s why I want a final talk with you—before I go.
Bartlett—[Dully.] I’ve naught to say to ye.
Nat—You will have. Listen. I’ve absolute proof the Sarah Allen is lost.
Bartlett—[Fiercely.] Ye lie!
Nat—[Curiously.] Why do you say that? You know it’s true. It’s just that
you won’t believe.
Bartlett—[Wanderingly—the word heading his mind into another
channel.] Believe? Aye, he wouldn’t believe. Brass and junk, he said, not
worth a damn—but in the end I made him own up ’twas gold.
Nat—[Repeating the word fascinatedly.] Gold?
Bartlett—A year ago today she sailed. Ye lie! Ye don’t believe either,
do ye?—like him. But I’ll show ye! I’ll make ye own up as I made him!
[With mad exultation.] She’s comin’ home tonight as I ordered Horne she
must! I kin feel her makin’ for home, I tell ye! A red an’ a green at the
mainm’sthead if ye make port o’ night, I ordered Horne. Ye’ll see! [He goes
to look out of a porthole. Nat, as if under a spell, goes to another.]
Nat—[Turning away disappointedly—making an effort to throw off his
thoughts—without conviction.] Nonsense. There’s nothing there—no lights
—and I don’t believe there ever will be.
Bartlett—[His wild eyes fixed on his son’s with an intense effort of will
as if he were trying to break down his resistance.] Ye’ll see, I tell ye—a red
and a green! It ain’t time yet, boy, but when it be they’ll be plain in the
night afore your eyes. [He goes and sits down by the table. Nat follows him
and sits down in the other chair. He sees the map and stares at it
fascinatedly.]
Nat—What is this—the map of the island? [He reaches out his hand for
it.]
Bartlett—[Snatching it up—with a momentary return to reason—
frightenedly.] Not for ye, boy. Keep clear o’ this for your own good. [Then
with a crazed triumph.] Aye! Ye’d believe this soon enough, wouldn’t ye?
Nat—[Intensely.] I’ve always believed there was something—and a
moment ago you mentioned gold. [Triumphant in his turn.] So you needn’t
try to hide the secret any longer. I know now. It’s gold—gold you found on
that island—gold you fitted out the Sarah Allen to sail back for—gold you
buried where I saw that cross marked on the map! [Passionately.] Why have
you been afraid to confide in me, your own son? Why didn’t you let me sail
back in your place? Were you afraid I’d give the secret away? Did you think
I wouldn’t believe——?
Bartlett—[With a mad chuckle.] Aye, ye believe now, right enough.
Nat—I always believed, I tell you. [Pleadingly.] And now that I know so
much why can’t you tell me the rest? I must know! I have a right to be heir
to the secret. Why don’t you confess——
Bartlett—[Interrupting—his brain catching at the word.] Confess?
Confess, did ye say, Sarah? To Nat, did ye mean? Aye, Sarah, I’ll tell him
all and leave it to him to say if I did wrong. [His gleaming eyes fixed on his
son’s.] I’ll tell ye, boy, from start to finish o’ it. I been eatin’ my heart to tell
someone—someone who’d believe—someone that’d say I did no wrong.
Listen, boy, ye know o’ our four days in an open boat after the Triton went
down. I told ye o’ that when I come home. But what I didn’t tell ye was
they was six o’ us in that boat, not four.
Nat—Six? There were you and Horne and Cates and Jimmy——
Bartlett—The cook o’ the Triton and the ship’s boy. We’d been on the
island two days—an island barren as hell, mind—without food or drink. We
was roasted by the sun and nigh mad with thirst. Then, on the second day, I
seed a Malay canoe—a proper war canoe such as the pirates use—sunk
down inside the reef. I sent Jimmy down to go over her thinkin’ they might
be some cask o’ water in her the sea’d not got to. [With impressive
emphasis.] He found no water, boy, but he did find—d’ye know what, boy?
Nat—[Exultantly.] The gold, of course!
Bartlett—[Laughing harshly.] Ha-ha! Ye do believe right enough,
don’t ye! Aye, the gold—in a chest. We hauled her up ashore and forced the
lid open. [Gloatingly.] And there it was afore our eyes in the sun—gold
bracelets and rings and ornaments o’ all sorts fixed up fancy with diamonds
and emeralds and rubies and sech—red and green—shinin’ in the sun! [He
stops impressively.]
Nat—[Fascinatedly.] Diamonds and—— But how did they get there?
Bartlett—Looted treasure o’ some Chinese junk, likely. What matter
how it come about? There it was afore our eyes. And then, mind ye, that
thief o’ a cook came runnin’ up from where he’d been shirkin’ to look at
what we’d found. “No share for ye, ye swab,” I yelled at him; and then he
says: “It ain’t gold—brass and junk,” he says and run off for fear o’ me.
Aye, he run off to the boy and told him to jine with his sneakin’ plan to steal
the gold from us!
Nat—[Savagely.] But why didn’t you stop him? Why didn’t you——?
Bartlett—I be comin’ to that, boy, and ye’ll see if I did wrong. We
carried the chest to the shade o’ a palm and there was that thief o’ a cook
an’ the boy waitin’. I collared ’em both and made ’em look at the gold.
“Look and tell me if it’s gold or no,” I says. [Triumphantly.] They was
afeerd to lie. Even that thief o’ a cook owned up ’twas gold. Then when I
turned ’em loose, because he knowed he’d git no share, he shouted again:
“Brass and junk. Not worth a damn.”
Nat—[Furiously.] But why did you allow—— Why didn’t you——
Bartlett—[With mad satisfaction.] Aye, ye be seein’ the way o’ it, boy.
It was just then we sighted the schooner that picked us up after. We made a
map and was burryin’ the gold when we noticed them two thieves sneakin’
about to see where we’d hide it. I saw ’em plain, the scum! That thief o’ a
cook was thinkin’ he’d tell the folks on the schooner and go shares with
them—and leave us on the island to rot; or he was thinkin’ he and the boy’d
be able to come back and dig it up afore I could. We had to do somethin’
quick to spile their plan afore the schooner come. [In a tone of savage
satisfaction.] And so—though I spoke no word to him—Jimmy knifed ’em
both and covered ’em up with sand. But I spoke no word, d’ye hear? Their
deaths be on Jimmy’s head alone.
Nat—[Passionately.] And what if you had? They deserved what they
got.
Bartlett—Then ye think I did no wrong?
Nat—No! Any man—I’d have done the same myself.
Bartlett—[Gripping his son’s hand tensely.] Ye be true son o’ mine,
Nat. I ought to told ye before. [Exultantly.] Ye hear, Sarah? Nat says I done
no wrong.
Nat—The map! Can I see it?
Bartlett—Aye. [He hands it to Nat who spreads it out on the table and
pores over it.]
 Nat—[Excitedly.] Why, with this I—we—can go back—even if the
Sarah Allen is lost.
Bartlett—She ain’t lost, boy—not her. Don’t heed them lies ye been
hearin’. She’s due now. I’ll go up and look. [He goes up the companionway
stairs. Nat does not seem to notice his going, absorbed in the map. Then
there is a loud muffled hail in Bartlett’s voice.] “Sarah Allen, ahoy!”
[Nat starts, transfixed—then rushes to one of the portholes to look. He
turns back, passing his hand over his eyes, frowning bewilderedly. The door
above is flung open and slammed shut and Bartlett stamps down the
stairs.]
Bartlett—[Fixing Nat hypnotically with his eyes—triumphantly.]
What did I tell ye? D’ye believe now she’ll come back? D’ye credit your
own eyes?
Nat—[Vaguely.] Eyes? I looked. I didn’t see——
Bartlett—Ye lie! The Sarah Allen, ye blind fool, come back from the
Southern Seas as I swore she must! Loaded with gold as I swore she would
be!—makin’ port!—droppin’ her anchor just when I hailed her.
Nat—[Feebly, his will crumbling.] But—how do you know?—some
other schooner——
Bartlett—Not know my own ship—and the signal I’d ordered Horne
to make!
Nat—[Mechanically.] I know—a red and a green at the mainm’sthead.
Bartlett—Then look out if ye dare! [He goes to a porthole.] Ye kin see
it plain from here. [Commandingly.] Will ye believe your eyes? Look! [Nat
comes to him slowly—looks through the porthole—and starts back, a
possessed expression coming over his face.]
Nat—[Slowly.] A red and a green—clear as day!
Bartlett—[His face is now transfigured by the ecstasy of a dream
come true.] They’ve lowered a boat—the three—Horne an’ Cates and
Jimmy Kanaka. They’re rowin’ ashore. Listen. I hear the oars in the locks.
Listen!
Nat—[Staring into his father’s eyes—after a pause during which he
appears to be straining his hearing to the breaking point—excitedly.] I hear!
Bartlett—Listen! They’ve landed. They’ll be comin’ up the path now.
[In a crooning, monotonous tone.] They move slowly—slowly. It be heavy,
I know—that chest. [After a pause.] Hark! They’re below at the door in
front.
Nat—I hear!
Bartlett—Ye’ll see it now in a moment, boy—the gold. Up with it,
bullies! Up ye come! Up, bullies! It’s heavy, heavy!
Nat—[Madly.] I hear them! They’re on the floor below! They’re
coming! I’ll open the door. [He springs to the door and flings it open,
shouting.] Welcome home, boys! [Sue is discovered outside just climbing
up the stairs from below. She steps inside, then stops, looking with
amazement and horror from father to brother. Nat pushes her roughly aside
to look behind her down the stairs.]
Sue—Nat!
Nat—[Turning to his father.] I’ll go down to the wharf. They must be
there or—— [The rest of his words are lost as he hurries down the stairs.
Bartlett steps back, shrinking away from his daughter, and sinks on a
chair by the table with a groan, his hands over his eyes.]
Sue—[Comes to him and shakes him by the shoulder—alarmed.] Pa!
What has happened? What is the matter with Nat? What have you told him?
[With bitter despair.] Oh, can’t you see you’re driving him mad, too?
Bartlett—[Letting his hands fall and staring at her haggardly—
falteringly, as if reason were slowly filtering back into his brain.] Sue—ye
said—drivin’ him mad, too! Then ye think I be——? [He staggers to his
feet. Sue breaks down, sobbing. Bartlett falters on.] But I seen her—the
Sarah Allen—the signal lights——
Sue—Oh, Pa, there’s nothing there! You know it! She was lost months
ago.
Bartlett—Lost? [He stumbles over to a porthole and looks out. His
body sags as if he were going to fall. He turns away and cries hopelessly in
a tone of heart-rending grief.] Lost! Aye, they be no Sarah Allen there—no
lights—nothin’!
Sue—[Pleading fiercely.] Pa, you’ve got to save Nat! He won’t heed
anyone else. Can’t you tell him the truth—the whole truth whatever it is—
now when I’m here and you’re yourself again—and set him free from this
crazy dream!
 Bartlett—[With wild grief.] Confess, ye mean? Sue, ye be houndin’
me like your Ma did to her dyin’ hour! Confess—that I spoke the word to
Jimmy—in my mind! Confess—brass and junk—not worth a damn! [In
frenzied protest.] No! Ye lie!
Sue—Oh, Pa, I don’t know what you mean. Tell Nat the truth! Save him!
Bartlett—The truth? It’s a lie! [As Sue tries to bar his way to the
companionway—sternly.] Out o’ my way, girl! [He pulls himself feebly up
the stairs. The door is heard slamming above. Sue sits down in a chair in a
hopeless, exhausted attitude. After a pause Nat re-enters. He is panting
heavily from his exertions. His pale face is set in an expression of despair.]
Nat—[Looking about the room wildly.] Where is he? Sue! [He comes
forward and falls on his knees beside her chair, hiding his face in her lap
like a frightened child. He sobs hoarsely.] Sue! What does it all mean? I
looked. There was nothing there—no schooner—nothing.
Sue—[Soothing him as if he were a little boy.] Of course there wasn’t.
Did you expect there would be, you foolish boy? Come, you know better
than that. Why, Nat, you told the doctor and I that you were absolutely
convinced the Sarah Allen was lost.
Nat—[Dully.] Yes, I know—but I don’t believe—like him——
Sue—Sshhhh! You know the state Pa is in. He doesn’t realize what he’s
saying half the time. You ought to have better sense than to pay any
attention——
Nat—[Excitedly.] But he told me all he’s been hiding from us—all about
the gold!
Sue—[Looking at him with alarm—mystified.] Gold? [Then forcing a
smile.] Don’t be silly, Nat. It doesn’t exist except in his poor, deranged
mind.
Nat—[Fiercely.] That’s a lie, Sue! I saw the map, I tell you—the map of
the island with a cross marked on it where they buried the gold.
Sue—He showed a map to you—a real map? [Gently.] Are you sure
you’re not just imagining that, too?
Nat—I had it in my hands, you fool, you! There—on the table. [He
springs to his feet, sees the map on the table, and snatches it up with an
exclamation of joy—showing it to Sue.] See! Now will you believe me!
[She examines the map perplexedly. Nat paces up and down—excitedly.] I
tell you it’s all true. You can’t deny it now. It’s lucky for us I forced him to
confess. He might have died keeping the secret and then we’d have lost—
I’ll tell you what I’m going to do now, Sue. I’m going to raise the money
somewhere, somehow, and fit out another schooner and this time I’ll sail on
her myself. No trusting to Danny or anyone else! Yes, Sue, we’ll come into
our own yet, even if the Sarah Allen is lost—— [He stops—then in accents
of bewildered fear.] But—she can’t be lost—I saw the lights, Sue—red and
green—as plain as I see you now—— [He goes to one of the portholes
again.]
Sue—[Who has been watching him worriedly, puts the map back on the
table, gets up and, assuming a brisk, matter-of-fact tone, she goes over and
takes him by the arm.] Come downstairs, Nat. Don’t think any more about it
tonight. It’s late and you’re worn out. You need rest and a good sleep.
Nat—[Following her toward the door—confusedly.] But Sue—I saw
them—— [From above in the night comes the muffled hail in Bartlett’s
voice.] Sarah Allen, ahoy! [Nat stops, tortured, his hands instinctively
raised up to cover his ears. Sue gives a startled cry. The door above is
slammed and Bartlett comes down the stairs, his face revealing that the
delusion has again full possession of his mind.]
Bartlett—[Pointing his finger at his son and fixing him with his eyes—
in ringing, triumphant tones.] The Sarah Allen, boy—in the harbor below—
a red and a green plain afore my eyes! What did I tell ye, boy? Come back
from the Southern Seas as I swore she must! Loaded with gold as I swore
she would be! [Nat again seems to crumble—to give way to the stronger
will. He takes a step toward his father, his eyes lighting up. Sue looks at his
face—then rushes to her father.]
Sue—[Putting her hands to her father’s head and forcing him to look
down into her face—intensely.] Pa! Stop, do you hear me! It’s all mad!
You’re driving Nat mad, too! [As she sees her father hesitate, the wild light
dying out of his eyes, she summons all her power to a fierce pleading.] For
my sake, Pa! For Ma’s sake! Think of how she would feel if she were alive
and saw you acting this way with Nat! Tell him! Tell him now—before me
—tell him it’s all a lie!
Bartlett—[Trying in an agony of conflict to get hold of his reason—
incoherently.] Yes, Sue—I hear ye—confess—aye, Sarah, your dyin’ words
—keep Nat clear o’ this—but—red and green—I seen ’em plain—— [Then
suddenly after a tremendous struggle, lifting his tortured face to Nat’s—in
tones of despair.] Nothin’ there, boy! Don’t ye believe! No red and green!
She’ll never come! Derelict and lost, boy, the Sarah Allen. [After another
struggle with himself.] And I lied to ye, boy. I gave the word—in my mind
—to kill them two. I murdered ’em in cold blood.
Sue—[Shrinking from him in horror.] Pa! You don’t know what you’re
saying.
Bartlett—The truth, girl. Ye said—confess——
Nat—[Bewilderedly.] But—it was right. They were trying to steal——
Bartlett—[Overcome by the old obsession for a moment—savagely.]
Aye, that’s it! The thievin’ scum! They was tryin’—— [He stays short,
throwing his head back, his whole body tense and quivering with the effort
he makes to force this sustaining lie out of his brain—then, broken but self-
conquering, he looks again at Nat—gently.] No, Nat. That be the lie I been
tellin’ myself ever since. That cook—he said ’twas brass—— But I’d been
lookin’ for ambergris—gold—the whole o’ my life—and when we found
that chest—I had to believe, I tell ye! I’d been dreamin’ o’ it all my days!
But he said brass and junk, and told the boy—and I give the word to murder
’em both and cover ’em up with sand.
Nat—[Very pale—despairingly.] But he lied, didn’t he? It is gold—real
gold—isn’t it?
Bartlett—[Slowly takes the studded anklet from his pocket and holds it
out to Nat. The latter brings it to the light of the lantern. Bartlett sits on a
chair, covering his face with his hands—in a tone of terrible suffering.]
Ye’ll tell me, boy—if it’s gold or no. I’ve had it by me all this time—but
I’ve been afeerd to show——
Nat—[In a tone of wild scorn.] Why, it’s brass, of course! The cheapest
kind of junk—not worth a damn! [He flings it savagely into a corner of the
room. Bartlett groans and seems to shrink up and turn into a figure of
pitiable feebleness.]
Sue—[Pityingly.] Don’t, Nat. [She puts her arms around her father’s
shoulders protectingly.]
Nat—[In a stifled voice.] What a damned fool I’ve been! [He flings
himself down on the cot, his shoulders heaving.]
 Bartlett—[Uncovers his grey face on which there is now settling an
expression of strange peace—stroking his daughter’s hand.] Sue—don’t
think hard o’ me. [He takes the map.] An end to this! [He slowly tears it
into small pieces, seeming to grow weaker and weaker as he does so.
Finally as he lets the fragments filter through his fingers, his whole frame
suddenly relaxes. He sighs, his eyes shut, and sags back in his chair, his
head bent forward limply on his chest.]
Sue—[Alarmed.] Pa! [She sinks to her knees beside him and looks up
into his face.] Pa! Speak to me! It’s Sue! [Then turning toward her brother
—terrifiedly.] Nat! Run—get the doctor—— [Nat starts to a sitting
position. Sue tries with trembling hands to feel of her father’s pulse, his
heart—then begins to sob hysterically.] Oh, Nat—he’s dead, I think—he’s
dead!

[The Curtain Falls]