PR 5175 .P3 N63 Copy 1 PLAICE 13 CEINTSS* W^ ^T^&^ DE WITT'S ACTING- PLAYS. ( N»iinh>er 84. ) NOT GUILTY. A DRAMA, IN FOUR ACTS. By watts PHILLIPS, Esq. Author of "The Dead Heart," "Ticket of Leave," "Nobody's Child, "Maud's Peril," "Lost in London," etc., etc. AS FIRST PERFORMED AT THE QUEEN S THEATRE, LONG ACRE, (under THE MANAGEMENT OF MR. W. H. lilSTON,) MONDAY, FEBRUARY 22d, 1869. TO WHICH AUE ADDED A description of the Costume— Cast of the Characters— Entrances and Exits- Relative Positions of the Performers on the Stage, and the whole o f the Stage Business. -♦-+H»M-<- ROBERT M. DE WITT, PUBLISHER, No. 33 Rose Street. H^* .voir r PEEP O* DAY. An Irish Romantic Drama, in Four Acts. By Ed- ' mund Falconer. Price 15 Cents. TfiP4Tijr ] THRICE MARRIED. A Personation Piece, in One Act. By -"-^^ ! HowardPaul Price 15 Cents. DE WITT'S ACTING PLAYS. 1^" Flease notice that nearlif all the Comedies, Farces and Comediettas in the following hst {/"De "Witt's Acting Plays" arr is a large plate, upon which appears the name of - Trumble, Solicitor," As the curtain rises to the tunc of the '' British Grenadiers ' Wattles, a recruiting sergeant, is discovered fixing a huge bunch of ribbons on a Coustuyman's hat. Tkiggs, Polly Dobbs, and others, male and female, looking oil a Girl pouring out liquor. Some L'oi.DiEns arc lounging about the door, and a semi-drunken band, consisting of a Dkummeu and a PiFF.r., are playing at intervals —while through the lar-e open French window of Tucmblk's house, first floor, n., (this window must be so constructed that the action going on within the room is visible to the entire Audience.) AC2' I.— Scene II.— Interior of a Garret, miserably furnished. I Window. I : Bedstead : ' Pallet. Door. Door. Table and Chair. O- The bare walls blotched with damp-the ceiling showing the rafters m places. Door, K. (diagonal.) Another door, L., half glazed, leads to an inner room. Window at back, 11. c, looks out into a narrow street, and upon the parapet of opposite house. The furui'.uiv of tlie room consists ot a chair, a table, a candlestick, in which abo.ut NOT GUILTY. an inch of candle is burning, and a pallet bed, in recess in L. flat. On the bed Alice, a child of about six years old, is lying, covered by a ragged counterpane. Moonlight. ACT 1.— Scene III.— A portion of the Southampton Docks. Steamer bell ringing. ACT I.— Scene TV. —A portion of the interior of a sleeping cabin on board the " Begum," packet ship to Madras. The ship is seen lengthways. The scene divided, so as to show in perspective the elevation of the poop, with mast, sail, rigging, lifeboat, etc., etc. Man at the wheel, Officer of the Watch near him ; the latter nodding asleep. On the level of the stage, the whole interior of cabin is visible, berths on each side, ladder ascending to poop-deok, stern portholes showing the rippling sea, wliich is also visible beyond the poop-decks in a shimmer of moonlight. Cabin table, chairs, etc., as in passenger boat of the second class. A table, beneath the usual swing lamp, Silas Jarrett seated, his head is uncovered, showing a bush of red hair, wliile the lower part of his face is concealed by a thick beard of the same color. He wears a loose great coat Two bottles are on table, and he is drinking from a glass, which he constantly refills. ACT IL— Scene I.— The Quarries at Dartmoor. Moor with Boulders, Convict Prison. Large Hill of Eocks ~^'^. mtor w ,i ^T"" '"^ "^'^^^^ ^^^^^"^^' '■- 1° ^^^ extreme distance a Vast extent of hu^e'blld ''"V,'''^"^''''"^' ""'^^ ^^""'^ ^«"^^^^ ^""'^^ o^- t«^-«- Down stage, l. s,.en.l,„>. » ' P^^^'^^^y worked, a rough road is quarried among them, de- scending by a gentle incline to stage. To r, near c, and somewhat further up fetage, the dark boulders rise into a sort of hill, from the top of which another road IS quarried, also descending amidst rock and ferns to and off stage. On the summit ol this heap of rocks, stunted trees with other varieties of wild, coarse vegetation ; framed, so to speak, by this foreground ; the quarries stretch out behind, full of caves and crevices, towering up or descending suddenly into deep fissures, old and neglected workings half hidden by the hardy herbage which clings even to these rugged rocks. The prison is on a height. A gloomy range of buildings, which, though distant, dominn.tes by its very presence, the savage scene. Convicts are grouped everywhere about at work, quarrying or wheeling off slate in red trucks, under the guard of "Warders, in dark blue uniform, with white metal buttons (frock-coat, leather belt, black varnished cap.) Some of these Warders carry mus- kets, others wear swords. The " Good Conduct " Convicts wear loose, a frock with knickerbockers and coarse woollen stockings, all of a dirty blue with pink stripes. The " Bad Characters," B. C, are clad in drab and black parti-color, and they work iFith a belt fastened round the waist under the frock. All have the tunic cut frock, NOT GUILTY. ^ With buttons in front, knickerbockers of same pattem-the B. C, " Bad Conduct," have one knickerbocker of black, the other drab, ditto stockings-the caps more like those of the Chasseurs d'Afrique than the Glengarry, are of the same stuff as frock with same stripes-the boots strongly made highlows. The Convicts carry various quarrying tools, picks, &c. As curtain rises, IIobekt Aknold, m " good con- duct" dress is discovered at work, L. x i- ^r, th^ ACT 111.- Scene I.-Bhurtpoor, a military post and trading out-station on tne banks of the Jumna. . . . . • View of Bhurtpoor. Bungalow. Trelliswork. Cotton stores. : Bales of Cotton. : • [] : [] [] i Counting-House. : • 4. AT„ ST CLAiu-verandah, etc., of light treUia, R., exterior of bungalow belonging to jmk. ^ • _^ ^^^^^ ^^ exterior of counting- and relieved by a profusion of creeping t^*"^^^^,^,^ ^^^^ marking cotton bales, etc. 'TcflirLl m.-A deserted battle-ftdd iu the neighborhood ot- Bhurtpoor. Cantonment in flames. _ Eocks.O 4 k Palm Mound. i I Rock. 0-0 il — ^Rocks. Tree. "^ Fascinesj &c. Mound. : Gun-Carriages. pi^tform, 1 ;■•; 00 G KOT GUlLXr. In foreground, some broken gun-carriages, fascines, and other military debris. In extreme distance, the cantonment in flames— in middle distance a contused mass o* oriental vegetation, interspersed -with blocks of stone etc., above which a feathery- palm rears its tall and graceful head— a piece of rock, r. 2 e.— platform raking from L. 2 E. to nearly c. of stage. Mound of earth behind 2d grooves, and rising to back of stage with platforms raked to go off at L. V. e. and u. u. e. The firing, which has been heard at intervals, grows more and more distant, then dies utterly away aa EoBEBT Arnold and Jack Snipe enter down raking piece from L. 2d grooves -the latter wildly excited. ACT IV.—Scene I.— Oakfield Grange, Mb. St. Clair's house, near Southampton. t t t r Trees. Garden Walls. Pavilion. Garden Fence. Shrubberies. Table and Chairs. Table and ChaiiS. Bntance to House. ricturesque entrance to house, l.— small pavilion, r. u. e. Shrubberies, masking garden walks, l. c. • -gates on country road — towards B ^here is a garden fence— a small wicket gate, this gate, like the larger gates, is open— at extreme back, trees, above which is seen ivy-clad tower of church— garden tables n. and l., with chaii-s-- bird on table, u. PROPERTIES. Bunch of ribbons • basket of tools ; pots of ale ; legal papers : matches, to light ; half crown ; candlestick and short candle ; locksmith's tools ; candle : jug of water : basket of provisions ; pocket-book, full of notes and papers ; ten pound note ; live pound note ; handcuffs ; portmanteau ; trucks with baggage — brown paper parcel ; two bottles ; wine-glass : pistol ; knife ; bank-notes ;sred wig, and red beard; red trucks for Convicts to carry stones on ; muskets; swords; picks, shovels, etc., for Convicts ; purse with money ; locket ; handfull of flowers ; lit- tle satin slipper ; diary-book ; watch. TIME IN REPRESENTATION— TWO HOURS AND A HALF. {For Synopsis and Stage DirecUons, see pag s 48, 49, and 50.] NOT GUILTY. ACT r. SCENE \.— Southampton Bato Trumble writing ot an old-fashioned bureau covered with papers. Wattles (c, after pinning on ribhom). There, a man needirt be born a sevetiLli son to prophesy your fii ".ire career. You've comraander-in- cliief wrilteti \u every line of joui- noble, and inielligenL physiognomy I (Omnes laiigli.) RiXRUiT {laughing stupidly). N^a, you bean't serious, sergeant? Wat. Not serious! (^o Bystanders). Ladi- s and uenLlemen, let me ciU your aitention to tliis betutitul picture. Inciease tlie nose, enlarue the forehead, hriiiii out the cliin, and chaiioe the entire expression of ihe counienaiice, and may I never laste aleasain, but we've a livinnr, breaih- ins likeness of [pointing to sign) ihe Great Duke himself, il'iugh) This other bow on your breast— your manly bieiist, and you'd be an orna- ment to Enter Triggs, from house r. trho is dressed in shihhy black, and has the appearance of a lawyer^ s cli rk. Triggs. A poulterer's sliop ! If you c«nrd only ])ut your liver un'er one aim. and your L'izzard under the o;ht^r, I siiouldn't know you from a ])rize turkey at Chris mas. {I'nujh.) Wat. {turning to Triggs). AikI you, my noble youth ] Trig. No, don't— jilease don't. Tve no i)retensi(in to anything of tlie kind ; there'isn't the sliohteat mysterv come iiiii2 either of my parents, and I iiaven't such a tiiinfi as a strawberry mark anywhere about me. Wat. You'll take the Qu 'ei.'.^ monoy 1 Trig. Not if I know it ! I wouldn't, r. b her of a farthingr, Wat. a vol. nil lello.v like you sliould serve your countrv. 'J'rig'. So I do — thai is, 1 serve my counirymen. I'm a lawyer's clerk. Wattles tarns nwai/ in disgust and joins recruits, etc., about door, while Polly Dobbs comes forward. Recruits and ^o^ldier^ gradually en- xcr house, L., Sergeant and Drummer remain. Polly (tvfh afecltd surprise). You here st.ll, Mr. Triaos 1 Trig. vT/s/rr Trigi^s ! Call me Joe— 1 can d.sp -use with respect till we're married. , t Pol. Well, what nonsense you do talk, Joe ; when you know Im en- b NOT GUILTY. gaged to go to India wiili Mrs. Doctor McTavisli, and before many hours are over shall be a-iossiiig on the briny ocean. Tkig. Witli those wavy outlines — oh ! Pol. I've jnsi taken leave of uncle, and my boxes are already on boaroui de'icious little snub at seventy pounds a-year ! Ecoi.omically m.inai:'!!, it's a fortune. Pol Eiononiicaily m ii a^ed I <^o I look like economy 1 TiuG. Fat and leelinss sho hi idwa\s go together. Poi-. Nonsense! the hush.M.d that I c noose mug t be like a snail in on« thing — he nnist bring me a louse on his back. ' 'Oith chnuge of manner and extending hmid) Good-bye, Joe ; this is about the forty-fifth pnning we have had dining the last twenty-four hours. Oood-bye, I shall come back anfdp. [Polly exits ivto house, t,. Trig, {with emotion, and dropping f>fir hand). Come back ! of couise yon will — ihin, ])erha|)s, and wile lo a Nabub, and mother to half-a-dozen india-rubber looking children, (looking after her) Oh, woman, woman 1 once it was love, and now it's furniture. But I'm a nejilecting bnsine.'>s, ihi»u2h love i«5 so much a mutter of busineso noiv-a-days that it's d fficult to know one from tiie other, {iodking up at ui»dow of home, l ) Theie's Trumble, hard at woik at the cjuaiierly accounts, twisting noughts iiii.<» s xes and nines — to))j ii g and laJing, he calls it. I was to be lack in weniy minutes with Mr. St. C air, but, bless mr — what can time matter .() old Trumble, except to charc any more of them. Recruits and Soldiers sit at table. Goes hark to bureau end re-seats him- self, as Robert Arnold, in the costume of a journeyman locksmith, enters at ba^k, r , as turning the corner of tavern. He carries a ba. ward) And Pollv — {stepping he*- as she is gcii-g) touch the rim of niy aj .ss wit i youv lips, just to corect the a( idity. Pol. ilivghing (nd i-hakh g hcrsdf hose) Y u'd be al t lie better f r Corr. c:ion of some kind, {pntchds to b x his ear, then enters house. L ) Wat. A patting gla.ss, eh, ]]■ b .' Rob. Parting a'nss ? not a b t of it — I jio with you. All You! You go lo the Injips — you! Rob. {laughing and striking atlitade). No less a j^erson than Robert Arnold ! Bob Arnold on week days, and Mister Robert Arnod when he walks out on a Sundav. ACT I- i) Wat. {shaking hands). I'm (le'iglited ! (Men shout ^^ bravo'") We're all deli,'liLed ! Rob. All but the women. {chucJdng Polly unlcr chin as she pours out ale which she has brought) Bless their liiLle beaits, 'tisu't my luuU if they love me. Pol. (^clapping hands). We shall be fellowp.-i' sen^pi's, then. Oh, how nice! [Rkcruits exit into inn, l. Rob. Y.?.s. ( placing basket of tools on stage by t'lble) There are my tools wliic I [ hive iiserl to-day for the last tune, to take up the trade of war, and Miste:' m »nd Wiiloughby Wat. O.ir C.ipLiin ! Rob. Takes mi ou^ witli him as confidential c^erk, and ilaughs) to re- flect a last:e on tlie lirii is i jinny. ( omi iaugh in kouse, l. T/ieg go up stare laughing an I Udking. Trumblk riscs^ places papers in bureau, which he loc'cs, then re-appears at win low.) Trum. Tiiat fellow, Tr.jiiis, has loitered on th? road as nsual. I'd bitter mset Mr. St. Ciair half way, f r Ihis noise is unendurable. Shuts window, rs he does so, SrLAs Jarrett appears at back, from l. Loud laujh in t iveni as hs enters. He pauses at sight of group before the tav- ern, ani sit^'Vi'jrth?- scene. He in a ragged young feUow with a sort cf hybrid appexrancs. between a mendicant tramp and a dock laborer. A taste for gauiy colors is shoum in the greasy red and yellow handkerchief twined about his neck, and the equalij greasy ribbon that dangles from his torn straw h%t. His hiir, ivhich is uncombed, hangs in tangled masses' over his forehead, a sort of thatch, beneath which his eyes peer out in a sin- ister and swage manner. Silas Curse t'lem ! vviiat a row they're muking ! If I knew how to stop til iir in?:*i-iMienL, I would! I can't bear to see peoi)le enjoyiritr tliem elve<; ib'< an insult to my razs and misery, (still nnperceived by the joyo'is groip ab)'ct tave n door, he comes slowly forward, limping slightly, as fodsore) E ijoy tiiems-^lvps! t!ie fools! ii's bief {)Ieisnre wiiiiont money! i'lere's 11.) )e:t A ij >i 1, lioie>t, hard work. nj? Rob rt — who's always m )c!{i!i::j ni', or pttroni/-:nT Ui3 wiiij the insolence of his piiy. {snvcgdy) ll>nast R»l)irt! fjood V '>^tt ! hirdworkinnj ll(»bert ! Ah! if haie co'ild kill you'd have b^e.i da id lonj; ago. (leans against W(dl of Trum- ble's h-niae in th". shadow, as Tiiu.UBLE comes out, closes door behind him, anlpis4nj SiiiAS without n^ttice. c.rti n. C.) Tliere goes another sort of f JO , a rich on??, w!i > pi )dj ! j) u lo ! plods! plods ! like the woiking bee, n it cirin:i to enj )y the honey ho creates. They're looking this way, and are tilkin j i^i^uL ni) no do lo^ [changing manner suddenly to that of a man I'lbjrin^ a t t-r nemi-i ifoxination) The e's no mask like drunkenness, be- hiad it one cm learn th^ thoughts of others, and conceal one's own. Pol (speikinj in gro u rfn-t tavern 'door). Isn't that Silas Jarrett^ RiB. (silting o'l table, c.) i>ran;v as usual. P.)L. Why do I't you geD him to enlist, Sergeant Wat lies ] W4T. D'cuise I'm the only man from whom ho won't take a shilling. By the w.iv, have you ever rmiked the singular likeness that exists batween him and our young captJiinl R )B. Wh ) coull he off i- ninrkini it. It's one of those freiks of Na- ture whicli Captain Ormond Willonghy has a right to complain of — that is, if ha were aware of the existence of such an idle, quarrelsome vaga- bond. Wat. How long has he been in SouthamptOQ ? Pol. About a month, I think. 10 NOT GUILTY. Rob. He landed from one of ihe French boats, and has been loafhig ir the docks ever since. During ihe above conversation Qxh AS, with a staggering sU-p, has approach-cd them. He tries to overhear uhat they arx saying under cover of lighting Ids pipe, which he makes assumed drunken and ineffectual efforts to do. SiL. {trying matches on slreve). Hanniel»t'dy's drunk here. (//iV) Ha! it's \ on, Robert Arnold, ii's you! {hie) Drunk as tisual ! V\n {ha) ashamed of ycu ! {'ill laugh) Give me a lig.iL Rob. {giving light). Here's one ; will you have anythinjr else"? (SiL. {qiiickhj). Wlio's lo ])ay 1 I liavei.'l {liir) had the ghost of a fanhiiiii in my i)Ocket for weeks; I've beju going on t.c'.c like a clock, but {hic) I'm run do.vn at la>t ! Rob. {'S Polly Ji Is glass and Silas eagerly drinks). I stand treat ! {giv- ing Polly monnj.) SiL. Y.l\s comes down stage ivith an utter change of manner — steady as a rock, and ivith a face of fox-like cruelty and cun^ ning. Xight has been sloicly drawing on. SiL. {tosiing coin in his hand). What's half a crown to a man who has shaken a dice-box and cut caids with lords? Who has ridden in Rotten Row, and in the Bois de BouIoLnie, dined at the Loixlon Clubs, and swallowed ices at Turloni' - % 1 's something though, lo a hunted and hniiiiry devil just esca|)ed from the heil of a French ]>ri.son lo sufF r Moise punishment — poverty in England. Poverty in Eng and ! ugh ! I know no deeper hell tiian that ! {ui)p()se ; ''■ a lilile fair-haiied, blue- eyed i',.;ned liiem to a shopmale as a lej^acy if {while he is spmking Margaret h'S hdf onsen, but sinks d<,wn lujnin iv'ih a gro> n) lidloh! wh.it was ihatl {turning and seeing Margaret in the shadim-, rs she is ogam striving to rise) A wi'.uian ! {raises her a- little) Whai's th mal ter ? are you iil 1 Lean on me! I'm not quite so sie;idy as 1 shoull I.e. but lean on me. 'lliere! so, all risht i ow ! we'ie firm as a rock! as a couple o^ rocks ! {he has supported her towards door, recognizes her) Mrs. Armitage ! Mar. {faintly\ Robert Arnold ! Rob. What's the matter ] you are crying ! What do you want 1 Mar. Bread! Rob. Bread "? Mar. Not fa- myself, ^ut for Alice — bn-ad for my cl.i'd ! Rob. Bread! biead I oh ! buMe, beast thut 1 w;is. lodii nt s e juy cliild before I die ! Rop. {with forced g'lyety). Die! nonsense! don't talk like that ; we are clo.»e to the door of your house ! You go up-stairs to Al ce, and — and console her till I come. Oii ! never fear but I'll come ! I've no money. 12 NOT GUILTY. but I've friends, heips of friends, crowds of friends! oceans of friends ! {speiikm^ nude as he leads her of. c ) Bni how to find one at tliis time of iiiwlit, I do.i't know ! (j/a->/ii/ as her head droops on his shoulder') Tell Alice, dear little Alice ! that Robert w^m't be five njinutes ! she shall have bread, bread and meat, and j) enu- of ii ! plenty, pleiity of iL ! {aside, with a gasp as overcnmmQ his einotion) Daiiihie ! if I havo 10 go down on my knees and be^^ for it ia ilie street- she shad have it ! [I'he)/ exeaut, Robeut half cany if ig Margauet. As they disappear, Silas Jahrett re-cppears from tavern. Silas {iv'ping mouth). That beisar woman's sone, I see! She gave me quite a turn — first by laying her liaiid so suddenly on my arm, and then by talking about fever. Since I esc ii)ed from that cursed prison I'm nervous at ray own shadow. There's, ali ! India's tlie place for me ! where a horseUeeper may become a princ*. or at least a prince's prime minister, if lie his iiis wits about him. {he shivers and dratvs his ragged coU about him) Not like in this foggy climate, where at every step you're askdd for a crtificate of chir;icLor. I'd work mv passago anywhere so I could get out of Lliis pi ice, but with every ship it's the same result — one glance at these rags, and " kick hiai overboard," roars the captain. {'le kicks out hit l^g as he siys t'li^, on I strikes his foot against the basket of toils, which lloBEUT his pliceil by seat at table) What's this? a basket {taking it up) of tools ! locksmith's tools ! It must be Arnold's ! a ham- mer, a file, a screwdriver, ])incers, and keys, and no end of keys, and a banc') of skeletons ! {holding up skeleton keys, with a chuckling laugh) I should know their utility — ihe crooked lii tie darlings ! each one looks like a note of interrogation! an '' iiiquiie within " ihai's sure to be pro- fitably answered, hi, ha! I always welcome old friends! Somebody's coming! more passeniers for the Madras boat ! I'll place t!iese tools in a safe place, {laughs) Where their owner won't find tliem in a hurry. Slinks off at back, keeping in the shadow, as Mr. St. Clair and Trumble enter B. c. — St. Clair is dressed as for a voyage, he carries a small valise. Trumble. But, my dear sir, my very dear sir, as a man, I may ap- prove your motive ; but as a lawyer Clair {laughing, and placing his hand on Tkumble's shoulder). My dear Trumble, sink tiu^ lawyer in the man ! Trum. Impossible! do tliat, and what becomes of the law couvt-il Whit you propose, Mr. St. Clair, is to sacrifice at least one-third of your fortune. Clair. The whole business is one of simple justic?. My uncle's death has left me raaster of an ample fortune — a portion of which is gained from an estate in India to which our family has no right in equity. Trum. But in law ? your uncle gnined the cause Clair. Unjustly, as I'm most rt hicuantly com{)elled to believe. It's then for me, as my uncle's inheritor, to make restitution to Mr. Armi- tage. Trum. He died ia India Clair. Very poor! leaving a widow, as I understand, and a daughter in England. My voyage to Madras i^, as you -know, to attend the bed- side of my sick mother. Spare no piins in my absence to trace out the surviving members of the Armitaue fimily. The re-assignment you al- ready have, and this caso, which I have just received from my agent, contains a sjim suflS-jieut to meet their possible necessities till my re- luro. A.CT I. 13 Trdm. Will you come up into the office while I write out an acknow- ledgment ? Claik. Ill wait for you here. We won't say good-bye till the last bell rings. Silas Jarrett, ivho has again apjjcared at back just as St. Clair jjasscs the leather note-case to Trumble, starts as he hears the latter mention the money it contains — he creeps nearer, Jceepmg within the shadow of tvall, then crouches down close to ground, the head raised, the neck outstretched, listening. Trum. {with hearty burst cf emotion). You', e a good fellow, St. Clair, and were there many Lke you, youd be the ruin of our prufes.>ion, that's all I know. He crosses over to Jiouse, opens door with latch-key, enters, and closes it behind him. St. Clair, dawn stage, lights cigar. Silas Jarrett, ivho al- most seems to have changed his body as well as his manner, creeps down the stage with all the lithe quickness and silence of the snake, till he commands a vieiv of the first floor toindoiv, through which Trumble is seen to enter room ivith light. He opens bureau, closes it, re-locks it, and then disap- pears, Silas, ivho has gradually raised himself first to his knees, then to his feet, retreats again into shadow, and glides off, rapidly, with a gesture of triumjjh, as St. Clair, turning, goes slotvly up stage. Clair. Jolly old boy, Trumble ! With a rough outside, he's full of the milk of human kindness. Enter Robert Arnold, in great agitation, hastily, r. Robert. I beg your pardon, but ju-^t one word, if you please, [he makes a movement as to place his hand on St. Clair's arm, the latter draws back ) Claiu. AVho are you, fellow ? Ri)B. Oh ! don't be afraid, sir ! There's nothing wrong about me. My name's Arnold — Robert Arnold, locksmith — leastways, I was a lock- smith a few hours ago, but 1 .-ball bs a soldier when Clair (impatiently). What's all this to me ? What do you wanf? Rob. (abruptly). Charity! Clair (stepping still further back). A beggar ! Rob. (drawing himself up with a momentary pride which he suppresses). I ! a beggar ! Well, 1 suppose I'm something of the kind — though, heaven be thanked, I've never had need to ask help of anybody for myself, and if I hadn't been scattering my money all day like a fool, I shouldn't now be begging for another. Clair. What other? Rob. a poor woman, sir, starving 1 and her chihl, too! An angel of six years old! Dying! dying! sir! for want of that which a few pence could purch se! Clair Can this be true % Rob. True I I left her but just now, praying her to take heart and wait for my return ; I rushed off to my employer, woke him up by throwiiicr a stone through his window, and asUe 1 him for a loan, but the granite-heaned old hunks, knowing th .t 1 leave Souihnmptun at day- break, cursed me for a drunken rogue — me ! Robert Arnold ! and slam- med down his window — I tried elsewhere with like success. Don't go, sir, don't go. Beggar ! (snatching off cap, and holding it out) Yes, sir, I 14 NOT GUILTY. am begoina ! and when I think of lier and her child's suffering, I'm not ashamed of it! Claik {hesitating). But lioR. Biin<^ it home lo j-ourself, sir ;" suppose that you had a child, or a niiither Claiu {u-ith emotion nnd spenkivg hnstihj as the door of Trumble's house IS heard lo opev, and Tkumble lom s out). Husli I take this ! (giving a crawpled paper) 1 have a moLlier — a sick nioliier. Let those whom til is m. ney i el. eves, pray that s e may live to look once more upon the face of her son, {aside, as he crosses to Trumble) Not a \v< rd of this to Ti ninble, or he 11 lecture me again, {he takes Tkumble's arm, and they exeunt hurriedly.) Rob. {ivho has unfolded pajyr). A five pound note ! C''"^* <^ caper) There'll be more than onejoytul heart to-night in Southampton, {cutting another caper) I'll buy Alice a doll ! As he runs off, r., Sila.s Jarrett creeps on u-ith a rapid crouching step, lie carries, hugged up, half concealed by his rags, Robert's basket of tools; hi' opens door with a skeleton key, enters stealthily, closing it again silently, is seen to open bureau, with the skeleton kei/s from Robert's bag, and to take out papers, he closes the bureau, leaves the room. The Scene changes to SCENE II. — Interior of a Garret, miserably furnished. Enter Margaret, u-ith candle and Jug of water, door, k. Maugauet ('» accents of terror, leaning ovrr child). Alicp, Alice! my own darling ! My dear, dear lit'le girl ! speak to me ! only lo; k at me ! Ah! {u-ith a cry) not a word, not a glance! {starting to h(r ftet) She is dying ! And yet Robert Arno d told me to wait and hope ! Oii, what shall I do ? whit SI all 1 do ? Not a bieath, not a movement ! Tears ai d kisses, all — all aie alike useless ! {her tone chatigrs to one of strong bitivrness) And why should 1 wish to call iier back 1 Why should life exist, when hope is dead? Enonoh of suffMin2 ! I cannot fight the battle of life }i|. ne ! {she foils across bed frintnig, as Alice, raising herself slightly, speaks m a faint voice.) Alice. Mamma, mamma ! {frightened, and placing her hand on Marga- ret's head) Oh, my dear innnnna! Mar. {with a cry rises to her feet, and looking vaguely round, takes seve- ral s'eps as one in a dream). Yes, dear ! i cannot see you, but I hear your voice. Alice ! She makes a step or two fonvard from the bed, then, with another loiv, moan- ing cry, falls on face, there is a momentary stillness, folloucd by a loud knocking at door, and Robert Arnold calls from outside, k, Robert, Open the door, open the door, Mrs. Armitagel it is I — I, Robert Arnold ! I bring you help ! What was that cry — that noise ? Open, or The door is burst open, and Robert enters precipitately on scene, carrying a basket of provisions, which he places on the table, then recoils aghast as he sees Margaret stretched on the ground — betiding over her. Ah, miserable woman ! what have you done 1 She's only faiuled, thank lieaven ! ACT r. 15 Mar. (repulsing him). Not me — not me — my child is dead. It is I who liave killed her — I have killed my child ! Rob. {rushing to bed, and taking Alice in his anm). No, no — she still breathes ! It is this stiffling atmosphere that is killing her ! Mar. There is more air in the next room. Carry her there ! quick ! quick I Rob. Heaven be praised— we shall save her yet ! [They exeunt, l., into the inner garret. As they do so, a confusion of voices is h-eard in the street below — '' Stop thief! stop thief! " etc., etc., and Silas Jarrett, panting and out of breath, dishes into the room, r., the bunch of skeleton keys still in his hand, and the leather case, which he holds, tight to his breast. SiL. The door below beini l. — Triggs stops their trucks, and tnsista, fusstly, on reading the addresses.) Triggs Now, my good men, my good men ! you may possibly Us un- aware that I form part of the British army — respect the defenders of your country, respect the {reads address) " Mrs. Turmeric," Mrs. Turmeric mavpiss. Captain O.mond Willoughby — ah! we belong to the same reginiput — fellow s-ddiers, fellow soldiers. Ah ! this is what I want» Mrs. McTavish ! here we have it. ' Miss Dobbs," Miss Mary Dobbs, one trunk and four band-boxes — quite correct ! {after making a memorandum) My liiggaije. {placing a very small Irown paper parcel with much solemnity on top of luggage) My luizgage, it goes with hers, {turning to side as Porters, highly irritated, wheel off truck, R ) Here she comes ! wrapped up in me and other comforters ! ACT I. 17 Polly enters, hurrieoUy, l., enveloped in doak and many mufflers, as for a voy- age — she tripps across stage, but pauses in c , without seeing Trigg s. Polly. I've been looking everywhere for Joe Triggs, I thought at least he would have seen me down to tlie boat. Poor Joe ! 1 never knew I liked him so much till now I'm about to leave him — nh ! {screams OS Triggs, ^vlto comes down stage, throws his arms about her) You've giveu me qiiiie a turn ! Triggs. In the right direction, I hope. Having issued an attachment, I take the body! Polly {bridling). You'll take yourself off, Mr. Triggs, such conduct at parting, loo ! Triggs. Paiiing ! {shows ribbons on hat) Permit me to call your atten- tion to this — the last new article in ribbons. Polly {with a little scream). VVhy, Joe, you don't mean to say you've 'listed '\ Triggs {sings). '• My boat is on the shore, and my bark is on the sea." And I sail fiom Albion's shore, witii thee. Miss Dobbs, with thee! I couldn't stand th;it idea nbout the nabob. Wattles tossed up the shil- ling, and woman \v.)n ! Don't speak ! I know what I have sacrificed — I might have i-een Lord Chancellor, but I gave Trumble ihesack in prefer- ence to silting upon it myself. Polly. Mr. Trumble! oh ! haven't you heard the news, Joe^ Triggs. What news ? Polly. Robert Arnold has been taken up for robbing the office ! Mr. Trumble's office ! Triggs. Robert Arnold ! Oh, come now, that won't do 1 PoLLV. The money's been found upon him, and TuiGGS. 1 doh't believe it ! I won't believe it ! {he walks about stage, pounding hat which he has taken off, till it is entirely out of shape) Why I'd ml her suspect myse f! Polly. And so would I — much rnther ! Triggs. Il's a plot of some kind, or a case of mistaken idpntity. It's anything — everything, but the one thiig, and that's the truth ! Polly, dear! a man doesn't rub ^llOul(lers with the law as I've done for tit'teeii years, and not know the signs of a thief wi en he meets hira. The first ihinir is to engiige counsel ; I know one, wiih a face like a warmii g-| an, and lungs like a blacksmith's b. l!ows. Il's more difficuh, of course, when a chap's innocent, because he's not up to the tiling, but We'll pull him through — we'll pull him through ! Polly. You're a go^d lel.ow, Jot'. Mind, we sail in an hour. {Exit, R. Triggs. In an hour ! And Robert Arnold? What's to become of him "X No notion of the law of evidence — a mere child— couldn't p'-ove an alibi if he tried ! and quite unawaie, in a lenal );oint of view, of ihe p(jwer of lun^s and brass, but I'll sift, the case, IT {moving to side he encniintern SiiiiGBANT Wattlfs. stff and t-iern, wvh several Sol- diers and Recuuits froin L ) Ah ! my dear Wattles! Wat. [anth crushing dignity). Your what ? TiUG. Wattles, I've a lavor lo ask of you; could we arrange it, that I come out, by the i ext boat 1 Wat. {in'a voice of thunder). Fall in, sir, or we shall fall out ! Tuio. Haven't you got a heart, sergeant ? Wat. Yes, of oak. Trig. But that's ro reason your liead. should be made of the same material ; I want to do a friend a service. Wat. Your services belong to the Queen. 18 NOT GUILT"i. Trig. 0( course they do; but I know her, bless her, she's a kind, jrood-heai ted lady, and will siretch a point — besides, she'll have her shilling's worth out, of me before long, having taken the money I shall not shirk the liability. I've a cliniac'er to lose, sergeant. Wat. Then lake my advice, and lose it at once. TuiG. You W'jr.lrln't advisp ihai, if yen knew the trouble I've had to get it togellier. You know Robert Arnold ? Wat. I ki ow jio liing but the c.4)tain's orders. Private friendships must give way to p.ibic duty. Tui5. But Robert Arnold Wat. Leave him to li.e law. Trig, That's a pretty sty.e of baby-farming; you hiaven't spent fifteen years ill a lawyer's office. Wat. Recruits on board ! R "ht shoulder forward— march ] (Soldiers grdher about Triggs, cml he is hiisled off, R., vainlxj protestwff.) SCENE IV. — A 2)ortion of the deck and interior of a deeping cabin on board the " Begum,'" packetship to Madras. Silas {listening). All quiet ! Nothing but the pleasant lap of the water against the vessel's sides ! I've slipped down here to enjoy a glass in qiiii't. (rfrj«/.*) Champagne ! chainpague! {fills and laughn) What a wine! This is my seccd bottle, and 1 ('.eser»e it after my exertions {pushing 9tp wig, find disconring face) How stfl'i'.g hot this cabin is, and tiie more I diiiik, th.^ niore it increases my thirst. {d>iuk^) Well, 1 can afford it— I can afior.i oceans of drink ! I can drink gold if I like, {looks stealthily tutv irds ladder at bick, then drrnvs out a packet of papers and notes^ which he turns over greedily an I hurrie:iper ■? {ex imi'img it) '• E Iw.ird Sr,. Clair's assignment of estate in favor oi " — Bah ! better buin all this ! {he rises nnstendily, renches at lump, then fails b'ick in ehuir) D iinn — the lamp ! or rather tlie l.imps, for that con- ioundel s'ewa d mus', iiave liiihied another — win re's the bottle 1 [clutching it nficr sivcrnl ineffectwd effort") Tlie ship seems s])innin' y.)U by ihis ? SiL. It's mine ! i:'sniine! Clair {casting him off as he cndenvors t) gr"sp p"per). Tliat remains to be proved! {snatching up note from table Ai.d iliis note eiKhnsed by me ! It's for you lo stand b.»ck, rascal ! {fliro ring linn off as he ma'ccs a cat-like clutch at note.) SiL. {Iionsely, and mod with excitement). My nion y ! {he snatches up knife from table, but St. Clair, drawing a pistol from pocket, staps him as he crouches to .'■pring ) Clair {covers hi mu-ith pistol, and extending the othrr hand, speaks icith intense calmmss). Give me the n maii.der of those notos. SiL. {aghast). \S\\o are you*? Clair. Edward St. Ch.ir ! This paper bears roy signature, and these tu'tes are mine ! Sil. Give them back 1 Never! Clair {the same cdm determination). Then I summon tiie captain to judije between us. Sil. {as struck by a suddin thought). Two can play rt that game. Help — help! murder! thieves! Clair. Rascal ! {he seizes him and thrusts him backovn- tiihle,from tchich the bottles roll to floor. In the struggle Silas's wig uiid beard come off) Ha ! Sil. (half choking). Help I murder! During the strvgglc Sailors cqypear on deck, descend ladder, and enter cabin confusedly. They precipitate therr.selves on St. Clair, drag him back, and wrest the pistol from his hand. Taking advaniccge of his release, Silas, with the agility of a cat, springs up tbe ladder and appears on deck, as the Captain of tlie steaater approaiJies St. Clair. Captain. What does a'l this mean 1 Clair {shaking himself loose from the Sailors' grasp, and pointing to wig and beard on table). 1 1 means that you have seized ti.e wrt/iig man, and are letting the thief escape ! Followed hy the Sailors, he makes a rush to the ladder, but recoils as the cry of " Man pverboard ! man overboard ! " resounds through the ship ; Silas having sprung up on the bulwarks, as the Man at the Wheel. and others make a rush at him, stands for a moment, his figure illumina- ted by the moonlight ; then, as their arms are stretched out to grasp him, ivith a laugh of defiance, takes a ^^ header ^^ into the S'-a. Act closes on tableau, Sailors unslinging boat, etc., etc., with effective groupings above and below deck, CURTAIN. 20 l^OT GUILTY. ACT 11. SCENE. — The Quarries at Dartmoor. Snter Jack Snipe, with Two Convicts, r., also in ^^ good conduct ^^ dress, stops hi his tcork, looks round to he sure that no ivardcr is listening, then comes down the stage. Several Convicts, ^cho have also stopped icork, follow his example. At rising of curtain, the Convicts are all at work, some ichccling harrous from hack and off, l. Jack {os Convicts group about him). How did I get the nameof Jack- in-llie-Biix] H'iiiiiorainuses ! consult the liauuals of your country. Ah! it was a caper ! {sings.) WhPH first I did stirt, with my eye on some mart, Not caiiiio: for bruises or knocks, Like a nimble youni; boy, I jumped with much joy, As 1 hit on my plan of the box. I'd a caution on lop to " krep this side up," Addressoil to the Liverpool Docks, And Llie Company's man, not knowina my plan, Would foiwaid me pack'd in my box. (all laugh.) When hinded on shore and put into store, I'd creep round il e i)l..ce in niv socks ; If I found the coast cl' sir and had noliiing lo fear, What swag 1 cramm'd inio that box. At last I was sold, like many of old, By one 1 had helped in distress. I was taken and tried, and t^»e judge did decide For five years 1 should wear this gray dress. {all Join in chorus.) For five years he should wear this gray dress. Enter Silas Jarrett, from hack, tcearing a wardcr^s dress, appearing up among rocks. SiL. Skulking work, you rascals! If I hear that noise r. gain I'll re- port every one of you. Jack {in a hurried whi-ope?). It's the new warder! he is a Tartar! {fheg disperse nnd resume uvrk as before — Jack tcorks by R. 1 wing.) SiL Is tiiat you, J ick Snipe 1 Jack. I wish it \Narn'; ! 'Appy and proud to make the situation over to s()niel)0(ly else. SiL. How dare -^vw answer me ? Jack (ivih mock surprsi) You! I'm blps-spd if I knowed yon afore! (/'ikes off c'p vifh iroinc-d liumilit-j) Vou're ll;e h<-niperor of all the Roosiiias, VfU are ! When niyresptct for myself becomes flabby, I'll come to you for starch. SiL. Get to your work — and that other skulker there No 47 ! {pointing to Robert Ahxold, l , icho, at the sound of his voice, h'ls staggered to his feet, but tviihout turning towards him) I'll soon have him stripped of his ACT II. 21 good conduct dress and put on the chain gang, if I see more of liis idling. [Exit at back, R. Jack {'ooJcing after him as he exits). You're a cock as knows 1)0W to crow, you do! You ain't been heie more than a week, but j-ou've made 3'ourself already a marked man among us — one as will have his ccmb cut afore -lung, {yets to ivork at c of stage — ivatchi^ig 'Ro'R'er't Arnold, ivho has re-commenced work, but after a few strokes of the pick, pauses utterly exhaiiftled) Hi.loh ! No. 47 is a-workiii' up for the sick dodge — not a bad do 1 lie neither ! {the pwk drops from Robert's hand and he supports himself against a piece wo'ld, only increases the 8ense of de- gradation. To be condemned to seven years' companionship with men Avhose vei-y aspect m ikes me tremble, better death in any form, so that it be swift and sure, {his head droops upon his breast, but he raises it quickly as Jack Snipe creeps up and ships him on the shoulder.) Jack. Cheer up, 47 ! 1 never see a chap take on as you do. When things can t be mended, grin and bear 'em, that's the motter of yourn to command, Jack Snipe. Rob. But 1 was innocent ! Jack {wi/h cheerful briskness). Of course you is ! There's not a chap ill this 'ere deliuhiful com-munity as doesn't say the same, on'y he's speikins h\s conviction. Rob. I swear to you Jack {stopping him and looking hastily round). Don't! that is, don't do it in that solemn manner. Some o' these fellers might take it into their lieads to bel eve you. Rob. Well ! Jack. And you'd loi-e their respect, that's all ! Rob {turning away with a gesture of despair). Into what anab3'ss have I f.dlen ! Jack {aside, with rapid change of manner). He's a-cryin'I {again look- ing round cautiously, he comes cose to Robrrt, and touches him on the arm) 1 say, stow thiit ! If I've said anyiliing as cuts ag'.n the grain, I'm sorry for it. {very kindly) Oil ! never mind me I sive 'em vent! I've paid the water r^tes loo otten myself to cut 'em off Irom anybody else, besides, I've taken a Iking to you. No. 47, you're so like a bi other of mine. Rob. Indeed ! Jack {quickly). He wasn't one o' my sort, mind yer, but a soldier as died out in ilie Injies ; had he lived, p'raps I shouldn't bo here — I wasn't born a thief. Rob. No man is Jack. No, but he's bnrn with a happetite, and some are born with big 'uiis. without any means of satisfyin' 'em. It's all very well for peo- ])le to talk about tlie'ead and the 'art, but tiie stummick, the stummick's tlip wulnerable part of man's anatomy. Rob. {crelcssbj). So your brother's deatli made you a thief 7 Jack. He died a-fighlin' the battles of his country, and his wife, who'd followed him ha'f lound this \\ov\<\ when he was alive, thought it her dooty, poor thing ! to lollow him into t'other, and there was a Ittle kid left for me to punvitle lor. '2'2 I^OT GUILIY, Rob. a l:eavy responsibility ! Jack. It were, liless its 'art ! it tons a baby ! Give it an (tj'ster shell or an old stocking to suck, and it 'iid be liappy for hours. It nestled in my ninis the lust time it saw \ue, aiid if I hjidii't lain upon it now and then aifidenaily, 1 doirt think it wouUl liave ciied mucli ! Rob. Sure y ycui luiulit have Mipp.)rieiie>tly ? Jack {wi/h sxidden fiiiaui/^s). 1 woik^d day and niiiht, but it wasn't no rrood, 'iwasii'i ofien I c tt'd !ak»^ the I tile 'im's s;uminick by surprise, and astonish it with a lii;ini. T ade \\;s batl, and 1 got out of collar. 'J'hcre's two roads — be right 'lui and the wrono 'mi. 'J'he light 'un liot shut U|), and the kid — (//«< voice (,r ni't, ;.fore ] Ri'B. We have — often,. Ho.v he comes here is another mystery Ican- n >t, so ve. Jack Well, there isn't ranch love lost atween yon ! Chut, here he coiups, and with that creepin' cr-'aiu-e v.s we calls the Polecat. I'd give somediiu' to know whai them two are couweisin' about. They both resume work as Silas Jarrett rc-appears at hack frmn r., accom- panied by the Polecat, a mean, cadaverous looking convict in " good con- duct " dress. Silas {in loic voice to the Polecat, as th'i ,'):nc doicn stage). You're quite sure of what yon say ? PoLR {in alow pip>ng voire, interrupted by coagh). Yes, yes, the plan of fS ape is all airai.ged — N >. 50, Jliat's old Isaac Vidler, you know him as we calis the '■ P.ilriaiCii," takes Llie lead ai.d gives the sional. The wai(h"S are to be (neipiwered. ami then each man m^kes a run for it. Jack (ii , striving to hear). What is i\\\i sneakin' cieatur' saying 1 SiL. 1 his wi.l iiei you a free pardon {ngile, as he moves doivn stage) and me increased confidence. It was a great thought of mine to come her«\ When the wolves are on your track there's i.o jilace «f salety like the lion's den ! li's beiter to be tl e guardian of the cage, ihaii to be shut np in it one's self JIad I only secured the money and pai)ers before I leaped f.om the deck of that cursed boat, I might have put myself be- J^oud the possibility of pursuit. Now I have wtrk d my way here to ACT II. 23 watch over my fiien 1 Robert Arnold — while he's in Enoland there's no real safety lor nie! Fear and hate {/le is glavcing furtively towards At^so-ld OS he speaks) are both powerful ar^enls, but wlieu combined ihey are irre- sistible ! TJie Polecat, ivho from nature is always sneaking about, comes face to face ivith Jack Snipe, unexpected by the latter, xoho is trying to listen — Jack immediately resumes tvork with superfluous energy. Jack, {hammering at slate and singing) Wlien Luided on shore and put into store I'd creep round the place in my socks ! ' Polecat (with quick movement back to Silas). We're watched ! [coughs OS usual behind his hand ) SiL. {angrily to Jack). How dare yon sing "? 'Tis against regulations ! Jack (r.). Is it 1 W(^ll if 1 don't conform to ihe rules of ihe estab- lishment, y«)U can dismiss me — 1 ain't attached to the sitivation. SiL. [to Arnold, who has paused in his work and turned towards them). I'll report y«»ii both [cro ses to l.) and you, too, No. 47. Rob. 1 hear, but refuse to exchange words with you. Silas Jarrett. SiL. [raising small cane he carries). Take care ! (Jack moves to c, and works so as to be nt the elboiv of 8ih\s for his next turn ) R 'B. {throiving aside pick, and folding arms). Of what— of you ? (SiLAS invers cane and draws back) I cant feir what f desj)isp. SiL. \lnighs, bat lowers cane). Tlie conieinpt of a felon. (Arnold turns nuny) When we la^t met in Southampton I didn't think to see you in \h^ iuteresiing costume, Robert. Jack [ivho h'ls again suUed up). WelH they d separate to give passage to Isaac Vidler, an old, urmk- led convict in " bad conduct " dress and fetter on leg. His head, tchen he moves his cap, is bald, but his grizzled brows hang over his sharp, gleam- ing eyes. His ^figure is slightly bent, and he has a tvay of rubbing his hands together, tvith a low, chuckling laugh. The Polecat stands near him, coughing at intervals belund his Mnd — his manner cringing, but eagerly watchful. Isaac {putting b-^ck crotvd with extended hands as he advance.''). Let me breathe, my chihiren, let me breathe. You're a bad lot — a \ery bad lot, but y«u wouldn't rob the <»ld man of his brenth, would yevi CoNVtCTS. No, no ! {the Polecat, coughs as he catches iight ed bales in the wood! yoil are here, and ii's jusr where you don't want to lie {turning with a fierce iiestnre to Polecat) Slop that cou^li ! d > ye ii ar ? {the deep bnomi- g of prison bdl h'ard) Tliere goes the return b;-*!. ! {to (he Cuiivic/v^ watching rt b^ick) 'i'he w.uders will be lipre in si monipnt, k epyour e\es skiimed and your liai ds ready, my dan to a deep hole — Aheie youM get .mother cr<.|)i'er if you don't take care — at tlie bottom you c eeps and crawls till you finds yourself in the des'^rted w