P S b 3 ? 
 
 Ai.liAliiAilAii AllAAiAiAiiiiiAiiliAililAAii4*i41 
 
 Muui^iap**n'''''"T'''''''' n '''iiiiij [ Uiuuu t iUiiui4uaujM BBiH a^^ 
 
 THE COUNTERSIGN, 
 
 ^ DHu^MA IN P OUH A.CTS. 
 
 — BY 
 
 FRANK N. WILCOX and CHAS. W. KING. 
 
 COFYKIGHTKD. 18«,M>. 
 B>- KRANK X. WIl.COX. 
 
 AM- ri(;hts kkskkx km. 
 
 CLEVELAND OHIO : 
 CUVAHOQAN PUBLISHING COMPANY. 
 
 leeo. 
 
THE COUNTERSIGN, 
 
 A. DFi.A.MA IN F'OUH ^CTS. 
 
 — BY 
 
 FRANK N. WILCOX and CHAS. W. KING. 
 
 .-^ 
 
 l> 
 
 COPYRIGHTED, 1890, 
 Bv KRu^NK N. WILCOX. 
 
 AI.J. BIGHTS RKSERVRD. 
 
 CLEVELAND OHIO : 
 duYAHOGAN PUBLISHING COMPANY. 
 
 laeo. * 
 
< 
 
 \o 
 
 "} 
 
 h 
 
 
 te 
 
 
THE COUNTERSIGN. 
 
 A DRAMA IX FOUR ACTS, 
 
 FRANK N. WILCOX AND CHAS- W. KING. 
 
 CAST. 
 
 Lieut. Harry Strickland. U. S. A. 
 
 Gerald Percy Marquis, C. S. A. 
 
 Capt. Aaron Wade, of Lake Erie. 
 
 Dick Wade, his son. 
 
 JosiAH Spooner, a fisherman. 
 
 Zeke Zion, a Georgia cracker. 
 
 Willie Strickland, nephew of Harry. 
 
 'Rastus, a colored boy. 
 
 Mrs. Strickland, mother of Harry. 
 
 Alice Strickland, her daughter. 
 
 Mrs. Montford, of Washington, D. C. 
 
 Lizzie Spooner, aged 17, daughter of Josiah. 
 
 Laura Vank Marquis, sister of Gerald. 
 
Costume;^. 
 
 Act I. 
 Harry Stricklarid, Lieutenant's fatigue uniform. 
 Gerald Marquis, modern street dress. 
 Dick Wade, same, a little loud. 
 Captain Wade, street dress. 
 Josiah Spooner, fisherman's overall's and blouse, calico or 
 
 flannel shirt. 
 Willie Strickland, fac-simile of Harry's dress. 
 Mrs. Strickland, conventional nice old woman. 
 Mrs, Montford, young-er, rich house dress. 
 Alice Strickland, neat summer. 
 Lizzie Spooner, simple gray dress. 
 Laura Vane Marquis, neat house dress. 
 
 Act n. — Scenes i and 2, 
 
 Harry Strickland, same as Act. I. 
 Gerald Marquis and Dick Wade make change. 
 Ladies same as Act I, at discretion. 
 
 Scene 3. — Rich evening di-ess for ladies, evening dress for 
 Wade and Dick. 
 
 Act IV. 
 
 Col. Strickland, full U. S. uniform with sword. 
 Captain Marquis, full C. S. A. uniform with sword. 
 Dick Wade, U. S. Sergeant's uniform. 
 Zeke Zion, native homespun. 
 'Rastus, old clothes. 
 Spooner, dark shabby suit. 
 Lizzie, with invalid's robe. 
 Laura, black neat fitting dress, 
 
Act I. 
 
 Scene — Boom in Mrs. Strickland's house, with conservatory 
 ivindoivs — by — feet at had-. Two ste'ps up to conservatory and 
 holcony and balustrade. Windoiv look out on to Act drop, show- 
 ing Sandusky bay, with Johnson's Island and stockade. 
 Windows are hung with curtains so as to close them completely 
 from view. Curtains draw back full length of window. Hall- 
 way L. U. Door R. U. A roorn loell furnished, tables JR. and 
 L. lounge, easle, etc. Mrs. S. discovered at tahle L. with 
 newspaper. Enter Mrs. M. as curtain rises with letter in 
 hand. 
 
 Mrs. 31. Emma I am in such a state. Now put down your 
 paper and advise me. 
 Mrs. S. I was not reading, my dear. 
 Mrs. M. Thinking-, I suppose. What of this time? 
 3frs. S. I was thinking-, as a mother does who is growing 
 okl, as I am, and has but one ambition left in life. I was 
 thinking of ray children, of Wilbur away at the front, in 
 danger; of Harry, his duties and ambitions; of Alice. — They 
 ai'e drifting away from me, Sarah. 
 
 3//VS. 31. Nonsense, you don't expect to lose Alice or 
 Harry yet awile? 
 
 3frs. S. Haven't you noticed that I no longer occupy first 
 place in their hearts. 
 
 3Irs. 31. I have noticed Alice loves Dick Wade, and that 
 Harry is interested in Laura Vane. You ought to be glad of 
 it. 
 
 Mrs. S. I am not complaining. 
 
 3Irs. 31. You have no right to complain. I have. You are 
 a widow with children and no ambition. I am a widow with, 
 ambition and no children. You have some one to go to and 
 counsel with. When I want advice I have to fee a lawyer. 
 Now, I need advice the worst you ever saw to-daj^ I've half 
 a mind to talk with Captain Wade. The late Major always 
 had great confidence in Wade. Always liked him myself. 
 I do now. He is so brusque and whole souled, a man so en- 
 tirely different from what one sees in Washington society. 
 3[rs. S. What do you want advice about, pray? 
 3frs. M. My government bonds. My banker writes me 
 he has an offer for them, at an advanced price. I don't know 
 whether to sell what I have, or buy more. If Wade comes 
 
— 6 — 
 
 here to-day, I'll insist on his advising- me what to do, unless 
 you advise me. 
 
 Mrs. S. You had better ask Aaron. Perhaps he'd buy 
 them. 
 
 Mrs. M. If he comes tell him I want to see him, [going) 
 and Emma, to make it easier, g-ive him an inkling of what I 
 want. I am g-oing to write a letter. [Exit up stairs.) 
 
 Mrs. 8. I'll tell him. I'm afraid if the late Major were 
 alive he would have reason to be jealous. [Fife and drum out- 
 side.) 
 
 Willie [outside.) By the left, march. [Enter Capt. Aaron, 
 Capt. Zo^iAK, each playing fife., hoy playing drum., circle down 
 stage and up hack., comes to front and down to C. and halt on 
 music.) 
 
 Mrs. 8. What on earth does this mean? 
 
 Capt.^ Wade [picking up Will. ) Now, then, you land crab, 
 take this instrument of torture and g-et out. 
 
 Will. I never git, I only march. 
 
 Capt. Wade. Well then march. [Exit Willie.) Sit 
 down, Josiah. (.Josiah sits hack B.} Good afternoon, Em. 
 
 Mrs. 8. Aaron Wade, you have a singular way of enter- 
 ing a lady's house. 
 
 Wade. Singular, I have no way of my own at all when 
 that youngster gets at me. It was come this way, or not 
 come at all, so we came. Aint that so Josiah? 
 
 Johiah. The truth, ma'am, though I'm not sure. 
 
 Wade. Sure, I never saw you sure of anything. You aint 
 mad, Em? No. I knew you wouldn't be. But blast me if I 
 wouldn't try to do something with that boy. He is a perfect 
 little— 
 
 Mrs. 8. Be careful, Aaron, or you may collapse. You 
 know the doctor urged you not to lose your temper. 
 
 Wade. Now, you know that I never lose my temper in 
 presence of women. God bless 'em, I love 'em all. And you 
 and Alice in particular. By thunder, it seems to me you don't 
 get old at all. Oh, don't blush, I mean it. What do you think, 
 Josiah? 
 
 Josiah. 1 think about as you do. Captain. There may be a 
 streak or two more 'o gray in her hair than 20 years ago, tho' 
 I'm not sure. 
 
 Mrs. 8. There, save your speeches for others. I've got 
 too much to think of to-day; what with Wilbur's children, 
 Alice's love affairs, and Harry's duties at the garrison, I have 
 about all I can attend to. 
 
 Wade. I believe you, and if my son, Dick, don't propose to 
 Alice pretty soon, I'll do it myself. She loves him, and she 
 
has almost told him so a hundred times, [getting mad) and if 
 he don't show his colors pretty soon why, da — 
 
 Mrs. S. A-a-ron. 
 
 Wa(l£. Excuse me. [Bus.) Look here, Josiah, what would 
 you do if you had a boy 22 years old, weighing more than a 200 
 ibs. sturgeon, and hadn't backbone enough to to tell a little 
 bit 108 lb. girl that he loved herr* Say, what would you do? 
 
 Josiah. [Bristling up and coming down.) Well, I'll tell you. 
 Well, I am not sure. 
 
 Wade. Sure, darn you, I see you hanging around this 
 house a good deal lately. Taint possible you're looking after 
 her. ^pointing to 3frs. S.) She wouldn't have you, you 
 blamed old shad, and I'd disown her if she did. 
 
 3£rs. S. Aaron, don't joke with Josiah, I can stand your 
 flings for I know you mean well. Josiah comes here when 
 Lizzie, his little blind girl, is not well enough to come, {seeing 
 Josiah look at her appealingly.) Never mind, Josiah, she is not 
 very strong and her father comes here for the daily paper, 
 from which he has to read to her everything about the war. 
 There is the paper on the table, Josiah, we've read it, and [as 
 Josiah searts to go) tell Lizzie to come up as often as she feels 
 able. 
 
 Josiah. [ Up hack taking paper) T'ank you, Mrs. Strickland, 
 I'm much obledged to you. Liz. is not so w^ell for some days, 
 though she is pretty chipper this morning. Its kind 'o wor- 
 ried me. I was a little afeared of fever, though I'm not sure. 
 But [coming drncn) if anything should happen to take her 
 away from me. (turning to Wade) Yes, Capt'n, I am in love 
 — with a poor little thing that never sees, but she is mine and 
 I love her — Of that I am sure. Good-bye to you, and thank 
 you both. [Exit L. U.) 
 
 Wade, [seriously.) He's sure of that. Now, there is an old 
 shad as cold as any fish he ever took from the water. There 
 is nothing he .vouldn't do for money, I believe, yet mention 
 that girl and lie fairly glows. Em there is nobody entirely 
 bad. You know me, I've been a buffeting around this string 
 of mill ponds n-hen I could have run to sea if there had been 
 sea to run to. till I've got as rough and roily as old Erie at 
 her madest. But if you look out at the bay now, you will find 
 her as blue and placid as a picture. I am just like that old 
 pond, leave me alone and I have my good points and you can 
 ride me any time; but stir me up and Lake Erie isn't a cir- 
 cumstance to me. 
 
 Mrs. *S. I know it, Aaron, but you can get away from Lake 
 Erie sometimes. 
 
 Wade. O, ho, that means that you can't get rid of me. 
 
— 8 — 
 
 Well, 111 take that from you, but I wouldn't from anybody 
 else. Where are the family. 
 
 Mrs. S. All about some place, except little Mable who has 
 g-one to visit her grandma in Detroit, [Bus.) Here is a new 
 picture of the children we had taken for sister Sarah to 
 carry to Washing-ton with her. 
 
 Wade [Tal^es photo and loolcs— and pauses.) Bright chil- 
 dren, good picture. [Pause.) Em. what do you think of 
 second marriage? 
 
 3Irs. S. You are not going to propose to me, I trust, 
 Aaron? 
 
 Wade. I might do worse. 
 
 3Irs. 8. You know you could no better. 
 
 Wade. Don't believe I could. Well what would you say 
 if I did? 
 
 Ifrs. S. I'd laugh at you. 
 
 Wade. Of course, well, I won't do it. That is, I wont pro- 
 pose to you. I think to much of you to marry you. You 
 have always been more like a sister to me than anything else. 
 But your Washington sister-in-law— Now, Em., honor 
 bright, what are her views on second marriage? 
 
 3frs. S. Why don't you ask her? 
 
 Wade. I'd like to but haven't got the nerve. Do you know 
 I like that woman just well enough to marry her and make 
 her miserable for the rest of her days. She is a mighty 
 peculiar woman but she suits me. I'm going to Chicago to- 
 morrow to be gone four weeks and if she hasn't gone back to 
 Washington, before I com© home — 
 
 Mrs. S. You must see her before you go then; she wants 
 to see you. She told me so. 
 
 Wade. What for? 
 
 Mrs. 8. It's of great importance. [Exit L. 1.) 
 
 Wade (3r, L. and Looking after her.) Good woman that, 
 not as young as her Washington sister-in-law, but both as 
 good as gold and both widows. Bright woman that widow 
 Montford. Wonder what see wants to see me for? I wish, 
 well, well, we'll see. [Enter Alice L. C.) 
 
 Alice. Oh, how do you do Captain Wade, I am glad to see 
 you. Where is Dick? 
 
 Wade [aside.) Where is Dick. [Aloud) I don't know 
 where Dick is and what's more I don't care, I tell you Allie, 
 if I were you I would bring that fellow alongside with a 
 short haul. 
 
 Alice. Yes, but how can I? I have done everything but 
 purpose to him, and I won't do that if I never get him, so 
 there. 
 
— 9 — 
 
 Tr<((?(-. He's an infernal good for nothing- and Im going to 
 get rid of him. 
 
 Alkr. Give him to me, Captain AVade. [7:^*^s•.] 
 
 Wade. Give him to you. Why, bless your heart 1 would 
 pay you well for taking him off my hands. 
 
 Alit'C. Well, we wont talk about him now. Have you seen 
 the children? 
 
 Wade. Seen 'em, I should say I had. Willie captured mc 
 and made me play the fife and marched me in here. [7io(i.s7- 
 ingly] Oh, I could blow pretty well once, T belonged to the 
 militia when I was a youngster. 
 
 Alice. Have you seen Miss Vane yet to-day V Oh. of 
 course, you haven't. She is out there with Harry. She is a 
 lovely woman and has a stor3\ She nursed brother Wilbur 
 in the hospital when he was w^ounded, and almost breaking 
 down herself, was induced by him to come here and teach 
 li is children. 
 
 Wade. [Interruptiny] Say Alice, I am part of the family, 
 you know, [as Alice starts] or will be some day. 
 
 Alice. If I am lucky. 
 
 Wade. No, if Dick's lucky. 
 
 Alice. Well, then, if we are both lucky. 
 
 Wade. Well, what I wanted to say was, or ask was, [look- 
 ing around^ ain't Harry trying to get along side of Miss 
 A'ane ? 
 
 Alice. What do you mean, that he loves her ? I am afraid 
 so but I fear she does not love him, poor boy. He has a 
 short leave of absence and as much time as he can, without 
 being rude, he spends with her. [Jimiping up] Isn't it too 
 bad; here is Harry in love with a woman who don't know it, 
 or won't love him, and here I am in love with a man who does 
 know it and don't (3are Oh, I wish I were a man, I would go 
 t<> war. 
 
 Wade. From what I have seen of the world my dear, you 
 will have plenty of war after the wedding bells have rung." 
 
 Alice. Do you speak from experience, C'aptain ? 
 
 Wade. Experience, I should say I did. No, I Vjcgin to 
 tliink that Dick will have to pay dearly for his past faults, if 
 ,\ ou ever do get him. 
 
 Alice. [Sadly] If I ever do. [enter Mrs. M.] 
 
 Wad(<. There, my dear, I didn't metin that. 
 
 Mr.'i. M Alice. 
 
 Wade. Ah, madame. [7:?m,s.] 
 
 Mrs. M. ( Japtain, I am glad to see you. 
 
 Wade. Em. said you wanted to see me. 
 
 Mrs . M. Yes. 
 
— 10 — 
 
 uillce. In that case 111 leave. [Going.] 
 
 3/r.s'. M. Please do, my child. [Exit Alice] Did Emma 
 tell you how I felt, Captain Wade ? 
 
 Wade. [Aside] I wonder what's coming- ? [Aloud] Oh. 
 yes, she, that is, she gave me a hint, 
 
 Mrs. M. I know it may seem rather strange to you. 
 
 Wade. Yes, no, no, it is all right. 
 
 Mrs. 31. Captain, I don't want to seem wanting in observ- 
 ance of the proprieties, but I am alone in the world with no 
 one to coniide in, to advise with or lean upon. 
 
 Wade. [Bus.) Now Just lean on me. 
 
 Mrs. M. You are very kind. I felt sure you would not 
 think me out of place. 
 
 Wade. If you hadn't mentioned it I should. This ain't the 
 usual way, I know, but I rather like it. 
 
 Mrs. M. I should never have had the courage to speak to 
 you but I g"ot a letter to-day containing- an offer, and I wanted 
 to know how you felt before accepting- or rejecting it. 
 
 Wade. Well, you refuse it. Don't want you to accept any 
 offer from anybody else than me. 
 
 3Irs. M. You mean to make me an oft'er V 
 
 Wade. I mean to accept yours. 
 
 IVIrs. M. But I have made none. 
 
 Wade. I thought you had. 
 
 Mrs. M. Certainly not. Captain, but I am willing to. if 
 you will do as well by me as I have been ofTered I am willing 
 to close the transaction. I have been offered $21,000. 
 
 Wade. What, $21,000 V Is that the way these matters arc 
 arranged in Washing-ton V 
 
 Mrs. M. Why, certainly, always. 
 
 Wade. Well, I'll make it twenty-two. 
 
 Mrs. M. Captain, it's done. 
 
 Wcide. Let's bind the bargain. [Bus. ) 
 
 Mrs. M. Bind the bargain? How? 
 
 Wade. Yes, I don't know how you do things in Washing- 
 ton, but here we bind that sort of a bargain with a kiss. ( Bus. ) 
 
 Mrs. M, Captain, I'm shocked. 
 
 Wade. Don't do that way in Washington? 
 
 Mrs. M. Certainly not. Captain I fear you have been 
 taking- cloves, I regret that I spol»e to you. 
 
 Wade. Well, madame, I am the last man to hold you to a 
 bargain you're sick of. Maybe you don't want this affair to 
 uo any further. 
 
 Mrs. M. I tnn i:ct in 1he Ici'tt | {uticr.lar. 
 
 Wade. Lets call it oft*. 
 
 Mrs. M. As you like, excuse me Captain Wade. [Exil.) 
 
— n - 
 
 Wade i Iiii,'<. I That is ;i strang'e woman. Ask me to mari-v 
 liei- fair and square and put the price hii>h and then wasn '1 
 willing- to accept the situation. {Enter Mrs. S.) 
 
 W<(df'. You have got me into a devil of a scrape. She has 
 l)een here. 
 
 Mrs. S. Who? 
 
 \\ (ulc. Why, the widow, and pro; osed to me. but when 1 
 Un)k her up she backed out. 
 
 Mrs. S. Proposed to youV She wanted youi' advice va^ 
 uarding" the sale of her g-overnment bonds. 
 
 Wade. Whaty 
 
 Mrs. S. Yes, that is what she wanted to see you about. 
 
 Wade. Em. don't say a w^ord. I'm going' to soak my head. 
 I'mamudscow. [At door.] I'll buy those bonds if it takes my 
 hjst cent. {Exit, passlny Alice who looks after him as she enters, i 
 
 Alice. What is the matter with (,'aptain Wade? 
 
 Mrs. *S. {Laughinq) I can't tell vou. Ask aunt Sarah. 
 [ExltL.l.^ 
 
 Alia-. Something" dreadful, I presume. I thought that 
 would happen when she drove me away, ilius. at tahl.e. Entir 
 Harry and Laura.) 
 
 Uarrj/. You seem never tired of looking- out upon old San- 
 dusky bay. Miss Vane. 
 
 Laura. Never, I like its changing moods. To-day it is pla- 
 cid and beautiful— to-morrow it may be savage, remorseless and 
 cruel. It needs but the veering of the weather-vane to make 
 the saint a sinnner or the sinner saint-like. 
 
 Harry. Ha, ha, ha, a man might say. the old bay has a 
 woman's nature. 
 
 Laura. Yes, but not as man would mean it. We are like 
 your bay here, in this, that w^e do not know the strength of 
 our own natures till the storm clouds burst about us. Then 
 we can do, and dare do things we didn't even dream ourselves 
 «-apable of doing. We can even seem savage, be savage, 
 goad us far enough. But my thoughts were not in that direc- 
 tion at all. I was not even thinking of the beautiful bay. nor 
 of its changing mood, until you suggested the idea. 
 
 Harrif. NoV A penny for your thoughts then. 
 
 Laura. I was thinking of the prisoners over yonder, shvit 
 11 1) in your stockade. How many are there of them? 
 
 Harnj. Ten thousand men, all officers, some of them of 
 high rank. Poor devils, I am sorry for them. 
 
 Laura. ( 7iw.s. ) Why sorry for them, are they not traitoi-s. 
 i«'bels? 
 
 Alice {At tahl(\ J>us.) I wonder how long it will })e liefore 
 1 hey realize there is any one in this room beside themsnlvi's. 
 
— 12 — 
 
 Horry. Granted, but for all that, they are men, brave, in- 
 telligent and with the courage of their convictions. Think 
 what it must be to them to be shut up in a stockade with 
 nothing- to do, while their friends and brothers are at the 
 front. Pardon me, I was speaking- as a soldier. 
 
 Laura {aside) And my brother is among- them. (Aloud) 
 Oh, Lieutenant Strickland, I am pleased to hear you speak in 
 such a strain, believe me. My father was a soldier — my 
 brothers [seeing Harry gaze at her) if I had any, should have 
 been soldiers. 
 
 Harry. Then, Miss Vane, Lau — 
 Laura, [seeing Alice) Oh, Alice, how long have you been 
 here? [Going down to her.) 
 
 Alice, [moodily.) Since long before you came in, I thoug"ht 
 you never would see me. I was plainly visible and I deter- 
 mined not to speak until you did see me. 
 
 Harry [At hack., aside.) I thank you, for nothing; [Solus.) 
 just when I might have learned w^hether Laura cared for me. 
 What is there about that girl that chains me so to her. Never 
 until now have I met such a woman. At once so bright, so 
 gay, and yet seemingly so serious of purpose. Her loss of 
 fortune has never affected her spirits or her pride, yet, w^hen 
 I look at her there seems to be a fixidy of purpose in her 
 eyes, as though she had undertaken some task too great for 
 her, I'll— ^Pshaw, I'm mooning. Ifs because I am in love 
 with her. 
 
 Laura, [to Alice.) And you haven't seen him to-day. 
 
 Harry. [Coming doion) Seen who, Dick? 
 
 Alice. Yes, Dick. 
 
 Harry. [Observing Alice) The squalls are not confined to 
 Lake Erie. [2b Laura) I hope I may see yon soon again. I 
 have something I want to say to you. [Pointing to Alice and 
 aside.) Its too cloudy here for me. [Exit.) 
 
 Laura. In trouble, Alice? [kindly.) 
 
 Alice. Well, not exactly, — that is, yes, but I believe it 
 don't hurt me much. I should be miserable if I didn't worry 
 about Dick. But just wait until I've got him, hell be sorry. 
 
 Laura. Carefully, Alice. Do all your quarreling before 
 marriage, for after that — 
 
 Alice. What do you know of marriage? 
 
 Laura. Nothing, dear, and have no desire to. 
 
 Alice. Laura, were you never in love? Now, honor bright. 
 
 Laura. { Wit] i dignity.) I never was. 
 
 Alice. (Kissing her.) I believe you, and I'm awful sorry 
 for you. (Going to door.) Poor Harry, shell never love 
 him. (Exit.) 
 
Lmni, My ])asiti(M» in tliis lioiisc is l»vM'«miiii<,'' <)di<ms to 
 me. D.'ceit, always htitefal. becomes doubly s<» wlien 1 am 
 «' mipalh^d to piMcfcico it with sucrh simple poople as these, who 
 make a i'ompaniim and a a e(mtidante of the ''i,'-overness." I 
 liate the word. In yonder stockade, and still siitfei'inii- from 
 liis wounds, is my best loved brother. My brother, treated 
 like a felon ])ecause he took u}) arms against the invaders of 
 our homes. But he shall not remain there lon^-. Througli 
 ii'ood fortune, when brother lay in the hos])ital. the adjoininjjj- 
 eot was occupied by the Fedei-al otHcer, whose motherless 
 children I am now pretending to teach. No. I am teach in •;■ 
 them. Were these people as bitter and vindictive as I ima- 
 uined all in the north were. I could meet them with their own 
 weapons, deceive, trick and cheat them, match my wits 
 against them all. But they are so lovinjj-. trusting- [pnui^'i 
 and a new complication has arisen, one I never dreamed of. 
 This young- officer thinks too much of me. Pshaw. My pre- 
 sence here is broug-ht aljout by the exigentries of war. For 
 my brother's and my country's sake I have a right to cheat 
 them, if I can. Brother Gerald in the secret service at Rich- 
 mond, does not know where I am, and I dai-e not write to him 
 for fear the letter may not get safely through the lines. I 
 must do this thing- alone. Oh, if I could but see my way. 
 [ .l.s' Alice enitrn.^ Back so soon, Alice ? 
 
 .'Uicf. Yes, I had a little cry, bathed my face and am 
 ready to start all over ag-ain. 
 
 Wade. (H[jeaking oat fild'C) Not another one, Em. [Enters] 
 L. I. with Mrs. S.) I've had doug-hnuts enough to last till J 
 come ag-ain. (»SV^.s Laura) Ah. good afternoon Miss Vane, 
 hope you're well. 
 
 Laura. Thnnk vou Captain Wade. 
 
 M'ad4'. Oh, I didn't tell you did I. AVell, I've sold my 
 l>oat. 
 
 Laura. Sold vour boat! t 
 
 Mrs. S. Sold 'the Eagfle! [- 
 
 Alice. Sold the boat I ) 
 
 Wad<\ Yes, sold it. Got mad at Di(;k for laying round 
 playing- billiards, and had a good chance. Fine young fel- 
 low, plenty of money, lots of sense and wants to g(» into the 
 lake carrying- trade. Made ag-ood sale and Tm glad of it. 
 
 Alice. And Dicky 
 
 Wach. Has g-ot to hustle now, or marry y(»u. If he hati 
 ;uiy blood in him he'd go to war. If 1 wasn't s«.» old I'd go 
 myself. I may go yet. Dick's down town now with the new 
 owner, Mi'- Percy. Shouldn't wonder if he'd bring him 
 back here with him. 
 
— 14- 
 
 ^ jr/Z/yV . Hi, there, j^nindma, Harry, everybody, {cnfera 
 NeAVS from t-he front. 
 
 Wadp. That settles me. Tm oft'. 
 
 Willie. Halt. (Wade stops.) Tt's a letter from i)a,pa. 
 Where's uncle HnrryV 
 
 ITurrtj. .Enteflny) Here I am, my boy. 
 . Willie. Advance and receieve oi-ders. Now. then, "tention 
 company. Fall in. Listen to orders. 
 
 JTarnj. (7'o Laura who is about to go) Stay Miss Vane this 
 is from my brother Wilbur. I beg- that you Avill stay and hear 
 its contents. 
 
 Laura. Thank you, I will. [Po.^ition on stage.) 
 
 JIany. i Reading letter.) "In the field near 
 
 ''Dear Brother: — 
 ■• I address this to you, though intended for you all at home. 
 ■"How I long to grasp your hand, to box Alice's saucy ears, 
 ''to look into mother's kindly face, to hold my motherless 
 ", children on my knees— tell them often of their mother, I 
 ■• want them to remember her, I cannot forget her even for 
 •• an hour, and to-night see\iis so like the night she died. It 
 •• seems to me sometimes that I must be asleep: that her 
 •• death, my en'istment, the war, and all the terrible realities 
 •■ of the last two years are but the incidents of a dream, from 
 " which her voice will awaken me. 
 
 Alice. (On LauveCs shoulder.) Oh, Laura, 
 
 ITarri/. "Ah, well. God help me. I am gloomy to-night. 
 
 • -The wierd shadows of the campfire, the complaining wind 
 ' • through these southern pines, the knowledge that a great 
 
 • • battle is imminent, makes me so. If anything happens to 
 " me, be a father to my children." (Bus. Puts hand on Wil- 
 lie's /^('r-aZ.) "Don't read these lines to mother, she is get- 
 " ting old and can't bear what you and I can. (Bus.) 
 
 Mrs. .S. Kver thoughtful, ever thoughtful of his mother. 
 I lius. of Alice and Laura with Mrs. S. ) 
 
 Ikirrij. "Now, good news of myself. Because I volunt red 
 
 " to do a risky thing at , the" boys now call me "Col. 
 
 ■ • Strickland. 
 
 Wade. "Hooray." 
 
 Willie. Silence in the ranks. 
 
 Harri/. {('onlinufs) "We made a charge, and in a hand t<» 
 
 ■ hand struggle I sabered a confederate I'olonel, a soldier, 
 " every inch of him. He came to me with his left arm limp 
 
 • at his side, and the devil in his eye. He would not have 
 
 ■ quarter, and <is I struck him he presented me with a bullet 
 
 • ;ind we fell together. For hours we lay near each other. 
 " My thirst was horrible, and I am afraid I was womanish 
 
— 1.') - 
 
 "until the m;i.ii who had shol. nw crnwhMl to my side and 
 •• sliarod with me tlie contents (»r liis canteen. "' ( ItKs, for 
 >ri'ri/h()(hf.) " We afterwards lay in adJoinini>- cots in the hos- 
 
 • l)ital. He is now a prisoner at dohnsons Ishmd, and if 
 •• there is any kindness you can show liim consistent with 
 
 • duty, do it."" 
 
 J/r.s'. iS. Ah, thafs my boy. 
 
 Ilantf. '' Miss Vane will say ' a.men " to this, for in tlie 
 ■• liospital she was u'uardian an^ifel to us both." {Bt(s.\ 
 " Speakiniiof Johnson's Island. I hardly need remind you of 
 ■■ the responsibility of yoiti* ])osition. Your prisoners are 
 ■■ officers of distini'tion and their prison by no means is as safe 
 •"as is generally supposed. Rescue by way of Canada is not 
 ■■ impossible, as your g-arrison is small and made up of men 
 ■■ untried by emergencies, and the neighbor shores of Canada 
 "and our entire North swarm with confederate emissaries 
 " and sympathizers. "" i Hks.) "Beware of secret enemies at 
 " home, of treacherous informers, spies, the hardest to detect 
 " and most to be feared, w^ho even may enter your homes and 
 "win your confidence (>nly to betray you."" {Six'dks.) No 
 fear of that. '' With love to ail. ' WiLBUK.'" 
 
 Laura. [JVIio lutft erincfd the mo.st painful hiffvr.sf duriiaj 
 Ihe latter portion of the letter, is laMtrlij faint iraj at liia-k <is Harkv 
 speaks J((st word.) My C4od I ( Asiflc. ) 
 
 Alice {going to lar] Laura. 
 
 Harry. Miss Vane. 
 
 J/r.s. 'S. My dear. 
 
 L<mra. Tt"s nothing, I am not ill. The room is a. little 
 i;lose. that"s all. and that letter brought back for the moment 
 fecollections of the sufferings that I have witnessed. The air 
 will revive me. [Exit with Ai^ice. Hakky toihnring vlosr 
 tx'hind.) 
 
 Wade. There's good stuff in that girl, Vaw., Init she's only 
 a woman aftor all. See how she nigh fainted at the recollec- 
 tion of what she'd seen, wiien she i)ro]mbly went through the 
 real thing without a flinch. 
 
 Willie. She acted like she was scared at something. 
 
 .Vr.s'. «S. Nonsense, my dear. You mustn't talk about 
 things you know nothing of. 
 
 Willie. Yes, but, grandma, she seemed awful scared when 
 Uncle Harry read about the reb«^ls in Canada. Why. 1 almost 
 "spected the prisoners was out already. 
 
 '.Stage gradaaHij dark, san.^el aL l)<a-k.\ 
 
 Mrs. S. Aaron, that might ha,])p Ml. 
 
 Wade. That's so. a,nd I mn-er thonglil of it nfon'. Simsil 
 'j»,i. liOOM. All threi' start.' 
 
— 16 — 
 
 WUUe isfarthd.) What" s that V 
 
 Wade. The .sunset g:un. 
 
 WdUc. Let's go and see the flag- come down. 
 
 Wade. Why, youngster, you'll make a soldier yet. Your 
 dad's a colonel, and I'm a captain, even if I haven't been to 
 war, and darn me, if this thing keeps up much longer, you 
 and I will both enlist, ha, ha, ha, ha. {Exit.) 
 
 J/»*.s'. S. It's in the blood. If I were a man I'd be at the 
 front, too. ThH.nk God, my boys are soldiers, and if I had a 
 hundred they should all go. ( Startled. ) What am I talking 
 alwut ? i Exit L.) 
 
 Enter Diek. i Lools around.) Well, I'm glad the sun's 
 down. It's been a pretty warm day. ( Lools ((round) I won- 
 der Avhere Alice is. Nice fellow, that Percy, plays a g-ood 
 game of billiards, can discount me, Alice will give me, — I 
 meant to come up this afternoon. He's clever, too ; should'nt 
 w(mder if he'd make money out of the '" Eagle.'' Seems to 
 Ivnow all about the lakes. Don't look much like a sailor, 
 cither. Alice ought to be here. Hate to be kept waiting, 
 (lovernor has sold the boat. I wonder where Alice is. 
 Thought a good deal of the old thing — the boat, not Alice. 
 Think a good deal of Alice, too; love Alice. She's been in 
 service some time. I mean the boat has. She is about the 
 cleverest I ever saw, Alice is ; a little impetuous, but means 
 well. Just left a fellow down town. Was surprised to know 
 the Governor had sold her — the boat, I mean. Lent him five 
 dollars, used to have a lot of money, hasn't got any now — 
 won't have any myself if I keep on. Alice loves me, I think 
 — wish she wouldn't bother me so much though. I love her 
 1)ut I never can tell when to ask her to marry me. Such a 
 queer disposition. Just my luck to ask her when she is in a 
 tantrum. Then she'd say no. Asked a fellow to-day to loan 
 me $50 for a few minutes. He said "■ no.'' I asked the Gov- 
 ernor for leave of absence for a couple of weeks. He said 
 ■• no." Believe I'm about the only one around here who can't 
 say '"no." Governor wants me to go to war. I don't say 
 •"no," but I didn't say ''yes." I said I'd think about it. 
 Patriotic enough, but don't like war. Like peace, at home, 
 everywhere ; wouldn't be any good in war. Too stout to 
 march and too heavy to ride ; too wide to be shot at. Be 
 captured first thing, bec'ause I couldn't run. Don't like to 
 ran anyway. I w<mder where Alice is. (Enter Alice. Stopit.) 
 Shoots well. Percry does. First I gave him six balls, then 
 tAVO, then he gave me two. then six — skinned me out of 
 twentv. 
 
Alice (coming down.) " Skinned '"' you. What do you mean, 
 Richard Wade ? Have you been drinking ? 
 
 Dick. Good afternoon, Alice. Let me explain — very busy 
 to-day— g-entleman boug-ht the " Eagie " — helping negotiate 
 sale — quite tired me — sorry for being late. 
 
 uilice. Mr. Wade. 
 . Dick. Beg pardon. 
 
 Alice. Richard. 
 
 Dick {aside.) Trouble brewing — can always tell. Alice. 
 
 Alice. Sir. 
 
 Dick. Too much trouble to say Miss Strickland— Strick- 
 land's long word anyway. Ever stop to think how much 
 l)reath you save by saying Allie instead ? 
 
 Alice. Dick. 
 
 Dick. That's right, follow my example — save breath — call 
 me Dick. I think— I think 111 enlist. 
 
 Alice. You enlist ! Ha, ha, ha. You would make a fine 
 soldier. 
 
 Dick. Make a big one, anyway. 
 
 Alice. Richard Wade, I believe you are afraid. 
 
 Dick. Am afraid — not of war — never tried that. But am 
 afraid of a little woman about your size. 
 
 Alice. Thank you. 
 
 Dick. Don't quarrel — want to bring Percy up to-night. 
 Nice fellow, Percy — you'll like him. 
 
 Alice. You be careful I don't like him too well. 
 
 Dick. I'll try to be. 
 
 Alice. I don't believe you would have courage enough to 
 s'ep between us if I did take a notion to love him. ( Watching 
 him closely. ) 
 
 Dick. Don't know {uneasily) as I would. 
 
 Alice, {Aside.) Oh, what shall I do with him? (Aloud.) 
 Well, I suppose if you saw us going to church together you 
 would sit on the fence and say {imitating him Doosed fine 
 girl, Alice — make a fine couple. Wish them well. 
 
 Dick. Wouldn't. Go and drown myself. 
 
 Alice. (Gratified. Bus.) Would you, Dick, really ? 
 
 Dick. Yes I would, Allie. Governor's sold the ''Eagle."' 
 Told you that, didn't I ? Hate repetition — don't you? Haven't 
 got anything to do now, much. Think of settling down. 
 Pretty hard work for a young fellow, I suppose — but got to 
 come to it some day. (Coming closer.) Like twi- 
 light y I do. Suggestive of lover's trysts and all that. Al- 
 lie, want to ask you (Alice brightening), want to say rather — 
 that is, I'll tell you I think you had better let me have this 
 (taking her hand.) 
 
— 18 — 
 
 Willie. {Outside.) I'll see, sir. [Unter Willie.) Oh, Mr. 
 Dick, there's a g-entleman down stairs bid me give you this 
 note {hands note.) My, how dark it is — I guess I'll light the 
 lamp. 
 
 Alice. Never mind, Willie, {checks herself.) 
 
 Willie. Oh yes, I hate the dark. {Lights lamp. Bus.) 1 
 can do it better than you can. 
 
 Dick. Confound that boy I Was just going to propose — 
 can't do it now. " Evil deeds hate the light." No, I don't 
 mean that. Excuse me, Alice. {Beads note.) " Will meet 
 you at nine, Percy." 
 
 Josiah. {Comes in excited ) 'Scuse me, Miss Alice. Is my 
 girl Lizzie here ? 
 
 Alice. No. 
 
 Josiah. {Excited.) Ain't she been here ? 
 
 Enter Mrs. S. What's the matter, 'Siah ? 
 
 Josiah. Liz wasn't at the house and I've been hunting her. 
 
 She isn't here, I well — must find her. {Starts to go.) 
 
 Mrs. S. We will go with you. Don't worry, 'Siah. We'll 
 find her all right. {All go out except Dick.) 
 
 Dick. {Doion stage.) Unfortunate if anything should hap- 
 pen to that girl. I'll go, too. {Exit.) 
 
 (HA.RRY and Laura enter at B. U.) 
 
 Laura. So your leave of absence expires tomorrow. Lieut- 
 enant ? 
 
 Harry. Yes, and it iias beem the shortest ten days of my 
 life, thanks to you. 
 
 Laura. To m^e V 
 
 Harry. To you. When fate is kind and gives me your so- 
 ciety I take no note of time till it has passed. After tomor- 
 row it will have leaden wings. 
 
 Laura. Ha, ha, ha. You flatter well. Lieutenant. Is your 
 duty so very unpleasant ? 
 
 Harry. Must we talk of that ? 
 
 Laura. Why not ? 1 like it. Is it very irksome ? 
 
 Harry. Yes, I hate it. If I could get away, get to the 
 front wnere I could feel that am doing a man's duty for my 
 country, I'd do it willingly, no matter what the danger, but 
 this task of playing the cat to the poor devils shut up like 
 rats in that stockade across the bay makes me feel sometimes 
 like changing places with them. They are soldiers, we mere 
 jailors. I can't like the work. 
 
 Laura. Yet it must be done by someone. Even such men 
 as he your brother writes of must be safely guarded. 
 
 Harry. Why have you never mentioned this dashing 
 rebel V 
 
— 19 — 
 
 Laura. How should I knw he was a, prisoner here ? ^You 
 did not mention that, remember. 
 
 Hitrri/. I did not know it. 
 
 Laura. If you were to speak to the Colonel do you think 
 it would be possible for me to see this — this man ? 
 
 Harry. Of course it would. 
 
 Laura. Perhaps to talk with him ? 
 
 Harry. If you wish, yes. 
 
 Laura. Alone V 
 
 Harry. Alone, Miss Vane V 
 
 Laura. It is a strang-e request, I know, but in the hospital 
 he told me of his family and friends. He had a sister whom 
 he loved devotedly. I cannot tell you why, but it is because 
 of her, of news I have of her, that I wish for his sake to speak 
 to him alone. You can understand, can you not ? 
 
 Harry. 1 understand your wish, at least, and that is 
 law with me. 
 
 Laura. Thank God {aside.) You are very kind. 
 
 Harry. What is his name ? 
 
 Laura. Edward Marquis. 
 
 Harry. Edward Marquis ! 
 
 Laura. Yes. Why V 
 
 Harry. He was my chum at Yale, the dearest friend I 
 had, the best of fellows, daring-, dashing, generous to a fault, 
 but rebel through and through, while I was union to the very 
 bone. This made no difference with us. He would say: '• Old 
 boy, you're wrong now, let's drop politics before we quarrel. 
 We won't have to fight." He thought so then, but 
 when the news came that the war was on he left for home. I 
 went to the train to see him off. There we shook hands and 
 he said: " Harry, do your duty as you see it. I am going to 
 do mine. The end will show who is right. " Now he is my 
 prisoner. Strange I never noticed his name on the list of 
 prisoners. 
 
 Laura. He had a sister ? 
 
 Harry. Yes, we often talked of her and of his older broth- 
 er. Many a time he's said to me in jest: "^ Keep your heart 
 until you see my sister. She is meant for you and you for 
 her, and I'm for both of you." Ha, ha, ha. Why, Miss 
 Vane, Laura, you're ill. 
 
 Laura. If I am V (liauylitily .) 
 
 Harry. It frightens me, because I love you, Laura. Be- 
 cause the very thought of ill to you stops the beating of my 
 heart ; because — do you not know — can you not see — my life 
 without your love would be a blank ; because I want you, 
 Laura, to be my wife. 
 
— 20 — 
 
 Laura. (Bus.) Lieutsnant Strickland, do not speak 
 of this — for my saks — for your own sake, I beg of you — no not. 
 It is impossible. 
 
 Harry. It must not be. 
 
 Laura. It is. You do not know what it is you ask. 
 
 Harry. Can you not love me ? 
 
 Laura. {Coldly.) No. 
 
 Enter Dick. Hello, Harry. Good evening, Miss Vane. 
 Sorry to disturb you. Just been looking for the blind girl. 
 
 Laura. {Sudchnly.) Has anything happened to her? 
 
 Dick. No, nothing much. Pretty nearly killed. (LAURA 
 staggers.) 
 
 Hirry. Dick. 
 
 Dick. Wasn't killed, you know. Pardon me, I'm excited. 
 Percy rescued her. He's coming here now, with Alice. A 
 hero already, and only been in town ten days. He'll tell you 
 all about it, (LAURA recovers) 
 
 (Enter Mrs. S., excitedly) Dear me, dear me. I'm glad 
 they found her. Has Dick told you V 
 
 Harry. Yes, mother. (Laura has slipped quietly to her room; 
 exit. ) 
 
 {Enter Wade. Puffing.) By thunder, that was a close shave 
 for the little girl. Just heard of it, and old Josiah is going 
 on like a hundred pound sturgeon loose in the bottom of a 
 skiff. Swears he'll never let her out of his sight again. 
 
 {Enter WiiAA.Y\.) They're coming, I mean Mr. Percy and 
 aunt Alice. 
 
 Wade. [Seeing Dick) Oh, here you are, you lubber, loaf- 
 ing round while other p3ople are worrying about that girl. 
 
 Dick. You are mistaken, governor. 
 
 Wade. Don't call me Governor. 
 
 Mrs. S. Aaron. 
 
 Wade. Well, allright. [Enter Gera'L'd and Alice.) Here 
 they are. 
 
 Alice Mother, Mr. Percy. Mr. Percy let me introduce 
 you to my brother, Harry. 
 
 Harry. I am glad to know you, sir, particularly as you 
 have been instrumental in averting a calamity that would 
 have destressed us all. 
 
 Wade. Percy is the man who bought the Eagle. 
 
 Harry. How did it occur V 
 
 Wade. Well, you see Percy made me a good offer for 
 her 
 
 Harry. 1 mean the rescue, Captain Wade. 
 
 Di':k. Don't interrupt him, Governor. 
 
 Wad3. Don't call me Governor. 
 
— 21 — 
 
 WiUic. Silence in tlie ranks. 
 
 Wade. {(roi)t<j up.) lam not commander any long-er, TU 
 buy another boat, that's what III do. [Exit.) 
 
 Gci'iikl. It was nothing', I assure you, Lieutenant. As I 
 came out from my hotel a few minutes since, I heard loud 
 shouts, the rumble of wheels and the clatter of horses feet. 
 I looked in the direction of the noise and saw a team of 
 horses, drawing* a heavy van dashing towards us like mad. 
 The van struck a carriage and reduced it to kindlings; pedes- 
 trians scattered in every direction except a young girl who 
 stood directly in the line of the oncoming horses, as if dazed 
 and uncertain what to do. A hundred people shouted to her 
 to fly, but she did not move. I thought she was crazy until 
 some one cried ''It is the blind girl." Then I understood 
 her actions. Not an instant was to be lost. The horses were 
 almost upon her when I rushed to her, took her under my 
 arm and passed safely to the other side of the street. The 
 hors3s rushed by aad be!ore going two hundred feet further 
 fell in a confused heap. [Liyhtly) The whole alTair didn't 
 occupy ten seconds. That is all there is of it. Lieutenant. 
 
 Mrs. S. But the danger, Mr. Percy. 
 
 Gerald. I saw no danger except to the child. 
 
 Alice. Do you hear that ? That man has courage. {Enter 
 Laura) Oh, Miss Vane, I want you to know Mr. Percy who 
 has just rescued your little blind favorite from being run 
 over. Mr. Percy, Miss Vane. 
 
 Laura. Oh, Mr. Percy, you do not know how much I 
 thank you — ( recognizing him) — Gerald 1 
 
 Gerald. Laura ! 
 
 Alice. Why, you two have met before. 
 
 Laura. {J3um.) Yes, traveling in Europe; in Switzerland, 
 was it not V 
 
 Alice. I did not know you had ever been abroad. 
 
 Laura. Oh, yes, indeed. Have I never mentioned it V 
 We chanced to meet one day while traveling on horseback 
 among the Alps. Do you recall the storm that kept us pris- 
 ers all one day in the challet of a mountaineer ? Mr. Percy 
 will sometime tell you that experience. 
 
 Fercij. {Aside.) " That is true, a clever girl, my sister, but 
 why is' she here V {aloud) Oh, yes, I remember it well, it 
 was a jolly lark. Miss Strickland. [Cannon fired, rockets sent 
 sent up., bells in distance., shouts outside.) 
 
 W(ule. (Outside.) Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah. {Enter.)^ Hur- 
 rah, great news, another great battle. We've won a victory. 
 Ten thousand prisoners captured. There'll be two hundred 
 more confederate officers over on Johnson's Island inside of 
 
— 22 
 
 two weeks. {Tnvows hack curtain.) See that. Come outside and 
 see the fireworks. The town is wild. [All exit except Laura 
 and Gerald. 
 
 Alice. [Going.) They liave got tlie news at the Island. 
 See the rockets. Oh, Laura; Mr' Percy, think of it. We've 
 won another battle. The wicked rebels are beaten again. 
 No wonder the people are mad with joy. Come, come, and 
 see. [Bushes off.) 
 
 Laura. [Coming front) Gerald. 
 
 Gerald. Laura. 
 
 Laura. Do yOu hear that ? More x)risoners for Johnson's 
 Island . Our brother is there. 
 
 Gerald. 1 know it, that brings you here. 
 
 Laura. Yes, to be near him, if I can, to rescue him if poe- 
 sible. These people do not know what or whom I am; they 
 think I am from the North. My heart has bled as I have 
 heard the triumphant shouts of one Federal victory after 
 another, and Edward shut up there when he could be fight- 
 ing his country's battles like a man. I am known here as 
 Laura Vane. Lieutenant Strickland is adjutant of the post. 
 I am the governess of his brother's children. You see my 
 purpose in coming here. I had hoped through him to gain 
 information and opportunities to aid me in rescuing our 
 brother. I have been watching, waiting, praying. Now my 
 hopes are at an end. I must leave this house to-night. 
 
 Gerald. To-night ? 
 
 Laura. Yes, to-night. This man was our brother's dear- 
 est friend at college; worse than that, not knowing who or 
 what I am, he loves me, and to-day has asked me, — It is hor- 
 rible. 
 
 Gerald. What ? 
 
 Laura. To be his wife. 
 
 Gerald. [Bus.) To be his wife, that's good. The way is 
 easy now. 
 
 Laura. What is it, Gerald ? 
 
 Gerald. Laura our brother shall be free. I am here not 
 only to free him, but all the men imprisoned there. I am 
 here to execute a ^lot, which, if it succeeds, shall challenge 
 the admiration of the world, give glory to our name, bring 
 ruin and disaster to the cause of these damned invaders, and 
 let them taste here, in their very homes, the bitterness of war. 
 
 Laura. Gerald, are you mad V 
 
 Gerald. No, I was never saner. God is on our side. There 
 are through the north a million men, our friends, organized 
 in secret, oath bound societies to aid us every where. Should 
 the opiDortunity occur, to rise revolt, set up rebellion some- 
 
— 23 — 
 
 where in the g'l'eat northwest. We will lay their homes in 
 ashes — give them war and crush them all between these two 
 rebellions. One bold stroke is needed to give our friends the 
 conlidence to act. That is my task. We have ten thousand 
 men in that stockade. I have the means to free them. I 
 have been in communication with our friends in Canada and 
 throughout the North — we have many of them right here. 
 
 Laura. Hush, some one is coming. {Listens) Go on. 
 
 Gerald. The arms are ready on the Canadian side. When 
 I have secured the plans of the garrison and stockade, the 
 number and disposition of the guards and the countersign, in 
 the dead of night I will land two hundred trusty men on the 
 north side of that Island, in the woods, overpower the pick- 
 ets, surprise the garrison — made up of raw recruits — drive 
 them into the bay. Then open the stockade, arm the prison- 
 ers, seize the shipping here burn what we do not need. Lay 
 Sandusky in ashes, take and burn Detroit with all its ship- 
 ping. Somewhere a bold stand will be made, our friends will 
 rise, the North be seized with panic, the torch will be ap- 
 plied on every hand. 
 
 Laura, What if they fail to rise ? 
 
 Gerald. They will not fail. If they do we will throw away 
 our arms, disperse, and each man for himself across the bor- 
 der into Canada. Nothing has been lost, and we have every- 
 thing to gain. Let the Federal government beware how in 
 its rage it violates the law of nations. England is not 
 friendly to it. This is my mission; is it not a gLorious one V 
 You can aid me in doing all this. Heaven has sent you. Oh, 
 Ged, how many days have I planned and hoped, and now the 
 key falls at my very feet. 
 
 Laura. The key ? 
 
 Gerald. Don't you understand me? listen then; don't refuse 
 this man, make him believe you love him; get possession of 
 his heart and confidencs. Then when we are ready the pris- 
 on rs shall be notified to be on the alert. Through j-ou must 
 come to me the complete knowledge of the garrison and its 
 countersign. Yes, that will do it. Oh, God, I thank Thee. 
 
 Laura. 1 cannot do it. Anj'thing but that. 
 
 Gerald. What. 
 
 Laura. Never. I would save my brother, aid you in any 
 way, but not by betraying him, not him. 
 
 Gendd. Do you love him ? 
 
 Laura. Do I love him No. 
 
 Gerald. Then why do you hesitate ? 
 
 Laura. Lieutenant Strickland is our enemy. On equal 
 terms I would match him, cheat him, trick him, if I could. 
 
— 24 — 
 
 This war has hardened me to that. But I am still too much 
 the wom.an to betray the honest love of any honest man. I 
 cannot do it. It is too horrible. 
 
 Gerald. You have come here with a purpose. Will you 
 falter just as your mission promises fulfillment? What mem- 
 ber of our family ever turned back ? Are you to be the first? 
 Shall our brother and all the brave men there suffer, when 
 one woman has it in her power to free them ? Shall the 
 glorious cause be retarded by the instability of one wcman ? 
 Think; think what freedom means to those men, and to our 
 armies in the field. You do not love this man; you have said 
 so. What is the future to you or me ? 
 
 Laura. Nothing. 
 
 Gerald. And our cause is everything. 
 
 Laura. Everything. 
 
 Gerald. Then, will you flinch at the very moment that 
 victory is in our grasp ? 
 
 Jjaura. No, I will not flinch. 
 
 Gerald. To work. 
 
 CURTAIN. 
 
 
Act II. 
 
 S':<'U(- t. — ItCdch of Sioiditxkif lidij — Uorrlnon in 4 — Fislirr- 
 )n'(u's }i<n(s(' L. .' iritJi fite[>s — Ik'dch a'tdl in .1. licuch L. '^lump. 
 lo(j. nctx^ old lj(f((1s. hanrl etc. [JosiiiJi .^eafcij on hfncli L. redd- 
 inij. Lizzie hrxidc Jiiiu.) 
 
 Jffsiah. [Redding) "•Rumors are rife that the Knights of 
 '■ the Golden Circle are increasing;- in numbers particuhirly 
 *" in the northwest, and g-veat danger threatens us from theii- 
 '• secret power and influence. The autliority at Washington 
 '• are taking- every means to become acquainted with their 
 '• actions, and those leaders who are known are being care 
 " fully watched." {Slops (Otd lool's frigltfcncd.) 
 
 Lizzie. Go on, father. 
 
 Josioh. Thafs all. 
 
 Lizzie. Oh, father, are there men wicked enough to do 
 such things V ^ 
 
 Josiah. Do what. Liz ? 
 
 Lizzie. Why, to take money V Be hired to ])etray those 
 v/ho think they are friends V 
 
 Josioli. Men will do most anything for money, childs 
 
 Lizzie. I can't believe it, I won't believe it. Father I can- 
 not see your face nor your eyes, but look at me, father, loolc 
 at me, and tell me 3'ou would not do anything so mean. 
 Why, if you did, I should hate you. 
 
 Josifdi. There, there, girl, you must not take on so. You 
 are not real strong, yet. I guess I wont read any more war 
 news to you. 
 
 Lizzie. Don't say that father, don't, don't. [Rifdny] Please 
 don't. Oh, if you only knew. Why, I live upon what I hear 
 of the success of our soldiers, and if the union cause were t«) 
 go down I believe I should die. 
 
 Josi((Ji. Die, my God, if she should. Josiah Si ooner, you 
 are putting yourself in a net and will soon be as helpless as 
 one of your own lish. But it's for her, it's for her and lie 
 l)ays me for it, pays me well. Drat the union, what's it ever 
 done for me ';:' Haint I been a, pauper all my life V Haint I 
 a pauper now V Wouldn't I been a pauper always if lie 
 liadn't come aUmg y What harm am I doing keeping him 
 l»()sted on what is going on at the Island, and carry a note 
 trom him to that woman at the Stricklands. It's my notion 
 lliey're sWeet on each other, though I'm not sure. 
 
 Lizzie. What are vou saving, fatliei-, anv m(»re news y 
 
Josiah. No, g'O in the lioas3 now, I am exp acting Mr. Percy 
 soon. 
 
 Lizzie' {Briyhtening) Mr. Percy, Mr. Percy. {Softly) He 
 8 wed my life, and ever since, when he comes here I am so 
 happy. The world seems so glad when he is here. I can 
 almost see him, and when he speaks something seeme to flut- 
 ter here so that I cannot replj^, only listen, listen, listen to 
 the music of his voice. He must be beautiful, his voice is 
 sweeter to me than the sweetest music. ( To Josiah) Father 
 why does Mr. Percy come to see you so often ? 
 
 JoKiah. i Startled, crosdij) None of j^our business. 
 
 Lizzie. Fathei*. 
 
 Josiah Course me, believe that money is making me hard, 
 even to her. 
 
 lAzzie. Father. 
 
 Josiah. {Bus.) There, Lzzie, don't feel bad, I didn't mean 
 it. I was sort of thinking just then of what you was a saying 
 about traitors, and I was gloomy like, that's all, that's all. 
 There, kiss your old dad and 111 go in and see what we've 
 got for supper. 
 
 Lizzie. (L lirouyh her tears.) Oh, father, dear, if all men 
 were as good as you there never would be war. 
 
 Josiah. {At door.) If all men were as good as me. My 
 God, if she should ever find out. (2b her.) Well, chi'd, I am 
 not sure. {Exit into house.) {Branches heard breaking outside., 
 Lizzie goes up and listens.) 
 
 Lizzie. He's coming. Oh, I know his foot steps, so fearless. 
 He comes straight on, not caring for paths or road, nothing 
 bars his way, wnile I grope, grope, always in the dark, al- 
 ways- in the dark. {Going up ((gain and calling '"Mr. Percy.! 
 3Ir. Percy.-'' Percy enters and meets her., taking her hand at 
 irhich she is delighted.) 
 
 (ierald. Good afternoon, Miss Lizzie, how did you know I 
 was coming V 
 
 Lizzie, i heard you. 
 
 (rerald. Heard me ? I was not making any noise. 
 
 Lizzie. I heard you ever so far ott" — I know your footsteps 
 {Embarrassed) I can tell nearly everyone's foot steps, but 
 yours better than any. 
 
 Qerald. Singular child, this. AVhat a pity she is blind. 
 [Aloud.) You flatter me. 
 
 Lizzie. Flatter you. I don't know what you mean. Oh, 
 yes, I do, too; telling white lies, saying what you don't think. 
 
 (rerald. I know you don't, my little girl, and I only meant 
 it as a figure of speech; a polite way of thanking you for the 
 interest you take in me. 
 
Lizzi(. Mr, Pert'y, you saved my life. , 
 
 (k't'dld. But a hundred others mij>-ht, and any of lluin 
 would have done so, only I was ahead of them. 
 
 Lizzie. You always are ahead, are you not, Mr. t*ercy V 
 (^^^s•. for Gerai>d.) But I am so olad it was vou. 
 
 Gn-((ld. Why. 
 
 Lizzk'. I don't know, I only know I am ^lad. so "lad. 
 
 (h'Vidd. Where is your father V 
 
 Lizzie. We were not talking- about him. 
 
 (rerald. Oh, of course not. Of what were we talking- V 
 
 Lizzie. Of the time I was nearly run over. 
 
 (rerald. Well, I should think vou would want to for^'-et it. 
 I had. 
 
 Lizzie. Oh, Mr. Percy. 
 
 (re)-(dd. Well, I didn't mean that exactly. Is your father 
 ))usy y 
 
 Lizzie. He is preparing supper. He will be here soon. 
 
 Gerald. (A.'iide.) The sooner the better. I am doubly 
 anxious to see the old villian. He has been faithful and 1 
 have paid him well. But the price is not too higdi. No ])rice 
 is too high for the object I have to accomplish. ( Walkinq up 
 .'<f(iiie.] 
 
 Lizzie. You are not going-, Mr. Percy. (Comiiii/ to daor) 
 I'^ather, Mr. Percy is waiting- for you. 
 
 J()fii(di. {Inside) Be out in a few minutes. 
 
 Lizzie. .A.'iide) I wish he would not come for an hour. 
 
 (revidd. Well, we can wait, little woman. 
 
 Lizzie. {Afiide) Little w'oman, little woman. He called 
 me a little woman. {('oininy to him) Mr. Percy have you 
 any cigars ? 
 
 (re)-(dd. Yes, will you have one V 
 
 Lizzie. No, only I wish you would smoke. It seems so 
 sociable w^hile we are w^diting- for father. 
 
 Gercdd. {A.^^ide) And such a father. iA((nid) I will Ix- 
 glad to. I have much to think of and can always think ])etter 
 when I smoke. {Bu.^. WitJi ciydr.) 
 
 Lizzie. Mr. Percy, how old are you ? 
 
 Ger(dd. Thirty-five. 
 
 Lizzie. That's pretty old, isn't it V 
 
 Oerdld. (/><<s-.) Some people think so, i)articularly litlh- 
 girls. 
 
 Lizzie. But I am not a little girl. You called me a woman 
 just now. i fills.) Mr. Percy, I have no eyes but T can almost 
 see you. May I place my hands upon youi- hcjid V That is 
 the way I tell how pe()])le look. 
 
~ 2S— 
 
 (irnild. {Amwifcd) ('ertainly, my child, anytliinj^' to pleas J 
 you. ( ^-l,siri'.\ ) This is a boi'j. 
 
 Lizzie. You have dark hiii% haven't yoj V Aui youi' ey^s 
 — (proceeding sh" 2>a.>'.sv>- h/r hand llyhtbj orn- his brow andfin- 
 nUt/ hdfi h()th<u-)iiH d round his }ieck.) 
 
 Ger(dd. How your hand trembles. You would not make a 
 i'-ood [S'le kisses hint <ind falls at his knees] Good God ! 
 
 Lizzie. Oh, dear Mr. Percy, please forgive me. I could 
 not help it. Ever since the day you first came into my life I 
 have not been the sam 3. It woke up something here I did 
 not know I had. Forgive m.3, oh,*^ forgive me; I will never do 
 so again. 
 
 Gerald. [Horror-strucl:] My God, what is this. I had rath- 
 er rot in the foulest prison ever built than be the scoundrel I 
 now appear to be. [lilslny and picking her up tenderly] Why, 
 Lizzie, never mind, you have not done any harm, and we 
 wont speak of that dreadful runaway again. I came to say 
 . good-bye to your father to-day, as I am almost prepared to 
 sail away from here for good. 
 
 Lizzie. For good V 
 
 (rcrald. So if you don't mind I will say good bye to you 
 now, as I will not come here again. I will finish my cigar 
 ;ind you can send your father to me. 
 
 Lizzie [Extending her h(u id and averting her face.] Good 
 bye, Mr. Percy, God bless you and yours. [Exit, sobbing.] 
 
 Ger<dd. Amen — That such an incident should come into 
 my life, and at this time. Great heavens, how careless a 
 man becomes when he thinks only of himself. My conscience 
 acquits me of any design, thank God. Poor little girl, I am 
 sorry for you. I almost wish for your own sake that the run- 
 away horses had reached you first. 
 
 Josl(d7. [Inside., and angrily] But I tell you I will. 
 
 Lizzie [Liside.] Fatlier. 
 
 Josiah. [Rushes out) And so you are going away. Damn 
 you go. You have come around here pretending to be a 
 spy for the rebels, instead of which, you were struck on my 
 poor little blind girl's pretty face. You hired me to spy foi' 
 you here and listen for you there, and sent me on trips to the 
 Island and to other places, I have done it for you, done it 
 faithfully, and all the time it wasn't news you wanted — it 
 was her — that child. With your oily tongue and your fine 
 gentleman's ways you opened up a world to hei' she had 
 never seen. The truth is out at last. Go, go quick, or your 
 friends will never see you alive. My God, one of her tears is 
 worth all the dirty money you ever aw. Go now, or by God, 
 I'll kill you. What, you won't.move V Then they will have 
 
— 20 — 
 
 l)miv'eyoa. (Ath(rk:-< hiia (clfli oirrinj knife hl(((l(, or ore 
 l>!i(dc <()id is siji"dil!/ <lfs<(rui'd and f(dlj< (ni sttiyc.) 
 
 (rcndd. Silence, old min. How dare you speak so to iiie, 
 If I were thi in.in you think me, I would deserve worse pun- 
 ishment than you eould give me. T tell you the woman has 
 just waked up in your child. I was— my God, unfortunately 
 t he lirst man she had met. I would do more for her than I 
 would for you. I live for one thing-, you know what that is. 
 i Picking him up.) Go back to your daughter, be as good a 
 father to her as she is a daughter to you, and you need fear 
 no one. Gome again to m.i soon, for I must use you to-night. 
 
 Jomdi, [At door) I will go, bat heaven help you if I find 
 t hat you are l^^ing. ( Exit. ) 
 
 (rcrald. Fool. Thank heaven, it is near the end. Of all 
 t he sad events of all my eventful career nothing has so nearly 
 unnerved me. Pshaw; to work. Let but this plan culmin- 
 ate and I will willingly die, and I will die or it shall succeed. 
 {('ominy up .'<tage ftees LiAURA icho enters.) Laura what news V 
 Have you succeeded ? 
 
 Lauro. Yes, I was permitted yesterday to see and talk 
 with Edward alone. The prisoners know our plans. 
 
 Gerald. Why, how you tremble, has anything happened':* 
 I )oes he suspect V 
 
 L<(nra. No, he is my slave. His honest and his confiding 
 nature knows no suspicion. Oh, Gerald, when he stands be- 
 side me, takes my hand and tells me of his love, I dare not look 
 him in the face. To myself I am so base it seems that if my 
 eyes were to meet his he would read the deceit, the treiichery 
 in them, and call me liar. 
 
 (ierald. Laura, you are weak. 
 
 fj'iara. No, I am not. You are a man, but I am as brave 
 as you. Don't speak to me of weakness. You do not trem- 
 V)le. No, your role involves only a brave man's courage 
 while I play a part I most despise, a soulless, false, intrigue- 
 ing woman's part. If I did it cheerfully I should be unworthy 
 to be your sister. Oh, Gerald, this must soon end. 
 
 (rerald. It shall. We are ready to strike the blow. To- 
 night at nine o'clock my steamer will be loaded in the offing 
 with a cargo, you know of what. If everything is in readi- 
 ness the end will come speedily. We must have some of 
 our men inside the picket line before the assault is made. 
 The countersign is necessary. To secure it -Is your duty. 
 I^ieutenant Strickland, only can give it to you. Hush, some- 
 one is coming. [Enter Alice, Dick and Willie.) 
 
 Willie. But, I don't want to go back. 
 
 IHek. That boy annoys me. {To PeR( v ond Lauka) 
 
— 80 — 
 
 Heard the news ? No, of course you haven"t, just heard it 
 myself. Alice is going- to have me, just told me so. Caug-ht 
 her in a good humor, you know. 
 
 Alice. 'Yes, it's true — I have got him now. [To Laurn.) 
 and won't I make him walk chalk. 
 
 Willie. iOrerhem-iug) What's "walk chalk'' aunt xMice V 
 
 Dick. {Patroiiizingiy) Run away young man, you will 
 probably know some day. 
 
 Willie. Oh. [Exii.) 
 
 Laura. {Taking Alicc\'< hand and kiff.'^ing her.) I congratu- 
 late you both, my dear. Mr. Wade is a fine gentleman; make 
 him a good wife. 
 
 Gerald. {Shaking hands iciih loth.) Permit me. 
 
 Dick. Thank you, old man. Feel rather jolly myself. 
 Better go and tell the Governor. For a time I was je-dous 
 of you — Beat me at everything else, didn't know but you'd 
 beat me in this. 
 
 Alice. [Looking off.) Here he comes. {Enter Wadj^.) 
 
 Dick. [Going up to him) Congratulate me. Governor. 
 
 Wade. {Coming doivn.) Don't call me Governor. 
 
 Dick. All right, old man. 
 
 Wade. Why, d That is worse than the other. 
 
 Dick. I beg pardon, Gov . 
 
 Wade. What V 
 
 Alice. (Breaking in) Oh, Dick, let me tell him. You see 
 Captain Wade, it won't be a great while till I call you 
 ''papa." 
 
 Wade. What, you don't mean to tell me that he has pro- 
 ])0sed to you V 
 
 Gerald. That is what the young lady is trying to say. 
 
 Wade. Well, may I be hammered fiat. 
 
 Laura. And we have just been congratulating them. 
 
 Waele. {To Dick.) And so you have finally gone and done 
 it. Well, {As they fiignify asseid and approach kin. he takes 
 and joins their hands.) Take^him. Alice, I've been trying many 
 years to get rid of him. Bless you both. {Going.) I'll be up 
 to your mother's to-night and celebra^te your betrothal with 
 some doughnuts. {Exit.) 
 
 Alice. Come along, Dick. {As they are at the exit; to Lauka) 
 Oh, aint he nice V Miss Vane, will you come V {Exit.} 
 
 Laura. Not yet, I want to see Lizzie first. 
 
 Gerald. (Quickly) I will ^'o with them to avoid suspicion of 
 H rendezvous. I will be back shortly. {Gfdng up and calling after 
 iJieni) Lst me make one of your party, (Exit.) 
 
 Alice. {Outside) Come along- then. 
 
 Laura. To-night. Can T do it. {'Lizzie appears at door.) 
 
— 81 — 
 
 Lizzie Who is there V Is that you, Miss Vane V I thought 
 I heard other voices. 
 
 Li(ur<(. Mr. Percy, Mr. Wade and Alice have just g'one. 
 They are {^"oing- to be married, dear. 
 
 Lizzie. [Startled.) Who V 
 
 Ldura. Alice and Mr. Wade. 
 
 Lizzie. Oh, I am so glad. I thougiit you might mean Mr. 
 Percy, (sddli/) and I wouldn't want him to marry anyone — 
 not just yet. 
 
 L(iur<L Why, child, what put that idea into your head ? 
 
 Lizzie. That he might marry Alice V 
 
 Laura. No, that you don't want him to marrj^ just yet. 
 
 Lizzie. [Coming to her.) Miss Vane ever since I tirst saw 
 you I loved you, 3'ou know^ that. You have been so kind to 
 me and I have done everything j'ou advised me. You have 
 been my teacher in so many things — Oh, God, I never found 
 fault with the darkness until to-day — Miss Vane, I w^ant to 
 toll you something. I do hope you will not be angry w4th me. 
 {Sitting beside her.) Please don't look at me. [Music.) I was 
 a girl a year ago when you first came to Sandusky, and you 
 Icnow how you found me, alone with my father, when he was 
 at home; by myself w^hen he was on the water. The cruel 
 war brought me one blessing, for it brought me you, Miss 
 Vane. Well, I kept on, until a man came to see father on 
 some business. He came often after that, and alw^ays polite, 
 occasionally said a kind word to me, and even was so good 
 once or twice as to relate to me some incidents of his travels 
 in the great w'orld, outside. Well, I — that is, — oh. Miss 
 Vane, he is going away tomorrow and I w411 never see him 
 'again. 
 
 Laura. (A.^^ide.) Poor little Lizzie. (Aloud.) There, my 
 dear, w^e always feel sad when our friends are about to leave 
 us. But I wouldn't mind it, dear, other friends spring up 
 around you and take the places of those that are gone. 
 
 Lizzie. Oh, Miss Vane, you don't understand me. I am a 
 woman now, and oh. Miss Vane, I love him, love him, love 
 liim. { Breaking doirn) And when he goes my heart goes 
 with him. Why did I not tind death in the street on that 
 (hiy when he rescued me. 
 
 [j<aira. [Aside) My brother. [With eoolness) I would not 
 have believed that Mr. — Percy could descend to such base- 
 ness as to make a child like you, love him. 
 
 Lizzi)-. (Quicl-h/) Oh, he did not, he did not, Miss Vane. 
 1 am afraid I frightened him to-day, for he said good bye to 
 nie, and that he would nevei' <;ome here again. Oh, that I 
 
might be permitted to show him how I k)ve him. I wish for 
 no greater happiness than that I might die for him. 
 
 Laura. Don"t cry, Lizzie dear, we always have to suffer 
 for those w^e love. Your sufferings seem hard to bear, but 
 that patient resignation you have so long" practiced will final- 
 ly win you contentment. Go in and bathe your face and 
 come back to me. I think Mr. Pei'cy will come here again 
 before he goes away for good. 
 
 Lizzie. [At door) If he only would, if he only would. {Uxit. ) 
 
 Laura. She loves him, poor confiding child. She calls 
 me her teacher; should she not be mine V I thought I could 
 do this, but T find I am only a woman after all. She would 
 die for him as Harry Strickland would for me. His devotion 
 drives me mad. How happy he is in loving a woman, who. 
 to-night will leave him dishonored and disgraced, whom he 
 will never see again. I am a reptile in a woman's guise, who 
 have coiled myself about his heart only to sting him to death. 
 To-night he will know it and then — (Enter Harry icho slip.^ 
 ]ilayfulhj behind her and pi^/.s- his haiuh on her shoulders. She 
 starts and screams.) 
 
 Harry. Why, Laura, I didn't mean to frighten you. 
 
 Laura. I was not expecting you. 
 
 Harry. Ha, ha, ha I just came from the Island, hurried 
 home to have a moment's chat with you, and learned you had 
 come to see our little Lizzie; and here I am. I couldn't wait. 
 It is only last night since I saw you and yet it seems an age. 
 [Xoticesher depression) Why, are you not glad to see me V 
 
 Laura. (S((dly) I have been thinking of you all day long. 
 
 Harry. Have you V That's right. I am the happiest fel- 
 low in the world. I used to think my duties here irksome 
 and wanted to get away; but now, since I know that you re- 
 turn my love, I am afraid to be sent to the front for that 
 would seperate us. (Faui^e) How strange you are. You do 
 love me, Laura V [IShe extends her lianel and he hisses it.) I 
 knew it. I did not doubt you; but I am so afraid of losing 
 you. You know what happened only a month ago when 1 
 first told you I loved you. You refused me so savagely it 
 froze the blood in my veins. Ha, ha. 
 
 L((ura. iCoJdly) I w^as ill. 
 
 Harry. So you were, and delirious too. Why you were 
 sick for whole days. Jove, how the time dragged" its slow 
 length along. But now, Laura, I think of nothing but you; 
 I am always hearing and repeating your name, iLightJy) 
 When the wind blows I hear it sig'hing; ''Laura — Laura 
 Vane." When the waves break along the beach f hear them 
 murmuring: '' Laura Vane." Ha. ha. Do vou know, when 
 
tlif (•tticer i)f the yuard came for the eountersitrn^ Iji^t nit>"ht, 
 J actually j^ave hiiu — it is^ too absurd — your name, ""Laura 
 Vane." « 
 
 Launi. (Agitated.) And is that the countersign V 
 
 lldiff/. Oh, no, I came tt) my senses, })esides, we change 
 it every evening. 
 
 Laura. Do you fix the countersign V 
 
 Harry. Usually the colonel leaves that to me. 
 
 Laura, (7>^^s•.) Harry. 
 
 llarrij. Yes, — well, I am listening-. {Laura hcHltatimj.) 
 
 Laura. {With tL'nder)iesi<.) You love me. Let me give you 
 a countersign lor to-night. {Risiuy and coming to him.) One 
 with a meaning: '•'Mizi)ah"'; the lord watch between me and 
 thee, when we are seperated one from another." Oh. (.1/- 
 riiost su'ooiis.) 
 
 Llarrij. (Taking her in his arm.^) That is the sweetest word 
 of love I have had from you. '•'"Mizpah" shall be the counter- 
 sign to-night. 
 
 Laura. {Wearihf) Now let us go home. Oh, I was to wait 
 for Alice and Mr. Wade who are at the wharf. Let us go to 
 them. 
 
 Harry. No, remain here and rest and I will bring them to 
 you. (Kissing her and going i(p to exit.) ''The Lord watch l)e- 
 tween me and thee when we are seperated one from another."' 
 (Exit gleefulhj. She doses her eyes that she may not see him.) 
 
 Laura. It is done, it is done! 
 
 Josiah. (Outside.) And the money ? 
 
 Gerald. (Entering trith Josiah) Will be ready. (Sees 
 Laura) Good evening Miss Vane, I have just been telling 
 Spooner what he has to do to-night. 
 
 Josiah. Hush, don't tell her, she is a woman. 
 
 Oertdd. Silence. She is made (f different stuff from those 
 you are accustomed to. Now, attend me closely, my plans 
 are fully matured. (Enter 1jIZ7AE from catjin) As soon as it 
 is dark have twenty small boats at the north side of the 
 Island; don't shrink, man, you have gone too far to turn back 
 now. If we Tail it means your life as well as mine. I have 
 paid you well for j-our services, only succeed in this and you 
 need work no more. 
 
 .Josiah. But if I fail? (Lizzie idio Itas worked iqj stage, starts.) 
 
 Loura. You must hear him out. (Lizzie hears her voice 
 find st((rts again.) 
 
 (if'r<dd. When you have left the boats, at eight o'clock 
 go to Mrs. Strickland's house, and bring me at the old i)lace 
 any letter Miss Vane may have for me. Then make your- 
 xlf scarce, leave this place at once and take Lizzie with you. 
 
— 84 — - . 
 
 foi' by midnight ten thousand men who have been shut up for 
 months will be liberated, and Sandusky will be in ashes. 
 :LizziE in an agony of fright runs against a barrel and iq^sets 
 it. All start.) 
 
 Josiah. {Grasping her) How long- have you been here ? 
 
 Lizzie For a long- time — I heard all you said — {Brcaling 
 inray and coming front.) You shall not do it. 
 
 Josiah. {Enr(ujed) AVhat, girl, would you tell on us ? 
 
 Lizzie. Yes; if I can find ears to listen to me I will cry it 
 through the streets of this town. 
 
 Josiah. If you do 111 {Attempts to striJ^e her. Gerald 
 
 stops him. Bus. ) 
 
 Lizzie. Oh, for my eyes to-night, that I might see what 
 kind of a man my father is, who can take money to betray 
 his country. 
 
 Laura., We are lost. 
 
 .Josiah., She'll tell, I know she will. 
 
 Lizzie. Let me go, I say, let me go. Rather death than 
 such a life. 
 
 Laura. Lizzie. 
 
 Lizzie. No. no, oh, Miss Vane, Miss Vane, can you betray 
 the man who loves you V 
 
 ■Joisah. {Aside to Gerald.) Speak to her. 
 
 Gerald. Not to save my life. 
 
 J^aura. Noi' to save mine, for I begin to care nothing for 
 it. 
 
 Ger(dd. {Bus.) No, but for those over there. {Approaching 
 her.) Lizzie I can't tell you why I am here beyond what you 
 already know. I would not tell you even to save my life. 
 
 Lizzie. Your life ? 
 
 Gerald. Not even to save my life, though God knows it is 
 in danger now, 
 
 Lizzie. {Mechanically.) Nothing. 
 
 Gerald. {Bus.) Yet I ask you to say nothing about what 
 you have heard until tomorrow for my sake. 
 
 Lizzie. (A.'iide.) For his sake. This strong man asks me to 
 do something for him — for his sake — anything for his sake. 
 { Steadily) For your ake. {A sigh of relief from J osiab. and 
 Laura. Gek alb hangs his head.) Don't touch me. {Stfoj- 
 gering tothe door.) "For hissavC." [Exit.) 
 
 Laura. If she should break her word. 
 
 Josiah. Break her word. She loves him, curse him. 
 
 (CLOSE IN.) 
 
— 60 
 
 ACT II— SCENE 2. 
 
 (/)( 1. Shotcltuj W harf at ISanduiiky— Lights half doicn — haml 
 in ilif<t((ncc playiny lioyues-yiiarch. Enter Dick «><(? Alice.) 
 
 Alke. Now, it's too early, Dicky, clear, to begin g-rowling'. 
 
 Dkk. Not g-rowling. Don't like to take my iirst promen- 
 ade wi/h my wife — that is to be — to the music "^ of the Rogue's 
 march — seems like being drummed out of camp. 
 
 Alkc Instead of which, you are just being drummed into 
 i-amp, Dicky dear. 
 
 l>kk. Calls me ''Dicky dear" — like that. What did you 
 say V 
 
 Alke. ''Dicky, dear."" 
 
 l)kk. Novel sensation, beats billiards all hollow. Won- 
 der if it will last ? 
 
 Alice. AYhat did you say, Dicky, dear V 
 
 Dick. Said we'd better walk fast. They will ])e waiting 
 tor us. It is almost time to start for the theater. 
 
 Alice. Wh}', Dick, you know you never walk fast. 
 
 iJick. Well, maybe that wasn't it. Too happy to-d;iy t(» 
 Ivuow quite what to say. 
 
 Alice. And, j'ou'U leave off billiards, Dicky dear V 
 
 Dick. Yes, mj^love — (Aside) at the end of each game. 
 
 Alice. And you wont smoke cigarettes, Dickey dear V 
 
 Dick. No, my darling — I'll take to a pipe. 
 
 Alice. And you wont stay down town nights, Dicky dear V 
 
 Dick. No, my precious — not after the jjlaces are closed. 
 
 Alice. And you wont go to war. Dicky dear ? 
 
 JJick. No, my birdie, not if I know myself. 
 
 Alice. And you i)romise always to be good to mama V 
 
 Dick. Always, my dear — as long' as she don't try to talve 
 care of me. 
 
 Alice. xVnd j'ou wont call papa Wade "•(Tovernor" will yon 
 Dicky dear? 
 
 Dick. No, my honeysuckle. {Enter Wade) Ah, Governor. 
 
 Wade. Don't call me '''Governor.'' 
 
 Alice. Why, Dick, you just i)romised me you wouldn't call 
 him ''Governor," and you break your word in the next 
 breath. 
 
 Wade. Yes, and I'll break his head for him scmie of these 
 days. 
 
 Alice. No, you wont. 
 
 Dick. How is that. Governor V 
 
 Alice. Dick. 
 
 W(tde. Well, d [Alice puts her hand (n-er liis tnoidh; Das.) 
 
 \ will si)eak. Fire and furies, am I not master of my own 
 
— 86 — 
 
 tongue V The next thing- T know there will be a troop of 
 little Dicks along here calling" me President. 
 
 Alice. iJJepricatingU/) Oh ! 
 
 Wade. I'm no Governor, and I wont be called ""Governor'' 
 any longer. Seen Harry ? 
 
 l>icA'. Just left him — gone to Spooners' after Miss Vane. 
 Thinks a good deal of Miss Vane. Don't believe she loves 
 him, never heard her call him ''"Harry, dear" once. 
 
 Alice. But she hasn't known him as long as I have known 
 you, Dicky, dear. 
 
 Wade. What? 
 
 JJick. {Smiling) "Dicky, dear."' 
 
 Wade. That makes me sick. 
 
 Alice Captain Wade. 
 
 Wade Calling that great big lubber ""Dicky dear." Now, 
 he has been a dear Dicky to me, but ""Dicky, dear," bah. 
 
 JJick. Easy, Governor. 
 
 Wade. Don't call me 
 
 Alice. Captain Wade. 
 
 Wade. Why, you — you — if there wasn't a lady present I 
 would tell you what I think of you d d quick. 
 
 Alice. Oh, Captain. Don't aggravate him, Dicky, dear. 
 
 Wade. That settles it. I was coming up to go with you 
 to the theater, but you can tell your mother for me, that un- 
 less she can lock you and your ''Dicky dear'' up in the cellar, 
 where you can't annoy sensible people, I don't come. 
 
 Dick. But the opera. Governor V 
 
 Wade. Damn the opei-a, and don't call me "Governor. 
 {Exit in a rage.) 
 
 Alice. {Pouting.) Now, see what you have done with your 
 ""Governor." 
 
 JJick. I didn't do it, it was you with your "Dicky, dear." 
 
 Alice. Don't contradict me in that way, it is not polite. 
 
 JJick. Don't make assertions that you can't prove. 
 
 Alice. I did not do so. 
 
 Dick. Thought you had. 
 
 Alice. Sir. 
 
 JJick. Guess I'll take this girl home and then go and have 
 a game of billiards. Too much of this is trying on the nerves. 
 [Rogues'' march in distance «.s they start. Stops and listens. ) 
 Damn that Rogue's march. {Exit. J joat whistle heard. Enter 
 Gerald «>kZ Spooner.) 
 
 Gerald. What is that ? 
 
 Spooner. Whistle of the tug for the Island. 
 
 Gerald. Is Lieutenant Strickland on board V 
 
 Josiah. He went an hour ago. 
 
(}( nil(L She got the coiintersi«^ii, I read it in hei* face, but 
 liis coming- prevented her jjiving' it to me. Are the boats 
 ready ? 
 
 Jdsiah. Joe Brady has got that in charge. The wind is 
 right and they will be where you want them in an hour. 
 
 Gendd. How will the weather be to-night V 
 
 Josiuh. I think it will be thick, though I am not sure . 
 
 (rendd. Good. Is your sail boat ready V 
 
 Josiidi. Yes. 
 
 (reyahl. Where V 
 
 Jo,si(di. In the shadow of the old warehouse. 
 
 (rcvdld. How long- will it take to make the west side of 
 the Island V 
 
 Jof<kdi. With this breeze about twenty minutes. 
 
 (revidd. Then go to the Stricklands, see Miss Vane — get 
 the letter and meet me and my men at the warehouse — don't 
 be afraid of their blue uniforms; they are disguised as sol- 
 diers. There are twenty of them. The rest will come from 
 my steamer. 
 
 JosUdi. Suppose we fail. 
 
 (rer(dd. We will not fail. But we must be secret as the 
 grave, [ fear that we ai'e watched. 
 
 Josudi. Watched V 
 
 (rendd. Yes, so be careful. {Exit.) 
 
 Jo.n(di. Oh, I'll be careful. 
 
 ACT II.— SCENE III. 
 
 rarlor in MRS. Strickland's /loiwf, eleyantUifurnishid. linn 
 icindow at back, gasjft from ceiliny in haij window with red 
 (jlobe. Sofa in front of fire place U. covered bij screen. L(()ni) 
 lighted on t(djle L. — Oii this tabk writing ni(deri<d and. tiro 
 envelopes — PJiotoyraph (dbuni <ind adjinet photos^ pi((no, lic. 
 iJoorinJiatR. C. Entrances L. upper and L. 1. FnrnilKrc 
 cannot be too rich. As curtain, rises Laura disc<n'er<d. EnUr 
 ALICE and Dick. 
 
 Alice. Are you alone, Laura, dear? Where is Harry. 
 Laura. He has gone to the Island. He asked me to say 
 
 L:'0(jd night for him to all. 
 
 Dick. Deuced stupid of him, Miss Vane, wanted him to go 
 
 to the concert — good concert — you are going, of course? 
 Laura. { With suppressed excitenunt.) I do not care to go. 
 Alice. Are you not ^oing, LauraV 
 
— 38 — 
 
 Laura. No, I am not well, clear. 
 Alice. I will remain with you, then. 
 
 Laura. Oh, by no means. I shall prefer to be alone to- 
 night. {Enter Wads and little Willie.) 
 
 ^Vacle. Well, everybody ready? Here youngster, you go 
 in my company, they don't want you. 
 
 JJlcl'. That's all right. Governor. 
 
 Wade. Don't call me -'Governor." [Enter MRS. S.) 
 
 3Irs. S. Aai'on, what is the matter? 
 
 Wade. Nothing, nothing, at all. If we're all ready let's 
 go. Now, young one give the word. 
 
 Willie. 'Tention company — 'bout face — forward, march. 
 [Exit Wade and Willie.) 
 
 Dick. Governor don't like to have me call him ''Gover- 
 nor.'' {Enter Willie.) What you back for? 
 
 Willie. Wanted to kiss auntie Laura good night. ( Jm.sc^- 
 lier.) I am sorry you are not g"oing, {Exit.) 
 
 ikfr.s. S. (Coming dotcn) Arn't you going, Laura? 
 
 Laura. No. 
 
 Mrs. ^S. [Kisses her on forehead.) Goodnight. 
 
 Laura. Good night. 
 
 Alice. Ill come home early, good nig'ht, dear. 
 
 Laura. Good night. {Exit all.) Oh, God, what am I do- 
 ing? They are all so good — so kind — thej' love me so while 
 I — Harry, — Harry, — Harry — forgive me — Oh, God, oh, God. 
 {Sobs convulsivelij icifh arms across the table and clutchimj at 
 table cloth with fingers.) 
 
 Josiah. {Enters and stands ^vfdchlng her.) Miss Vane. 
 
 Laura. {Baising her head sloivly clenching her hands.) What? 
 
 Josiah I come for the letter. 
 
 Laura. Yes. {Does not move.) 
 
 Josiah. Achat's the matter. Miss? 
 
 Laura-. You came for the letter? 
 
 Josiah. Yes, Miss. 
 
 Laura. Wait. {Long pause) Yes. {Seizing pen'and writes 
 rapidly^ reading as she urrites:) "Secured the countersign from 
 " Strickland to-day. The interruption at the cottage pre- 
 " vented my communicating with you. The countersign to- 
 " night is Mizpah." Here, (hesitates.) No, wait. If he should 
 be killed? The cause does not demand that. I'll write him 
 to come to me at once, and he loill come. ( Writes line.) I'll 
 keep him until the danger is past. Then he may Icill me, if 
 he likes. I pray to God he will. {Hesitates, then addre.'^ses two 
 envelopes, reading as she ivrites:) "Lieutenant Harry Strick- 
 land," "Gerald Percy." {As she seeds the letters^^ steamboat 
 n-h istle heard. ) Is that the Isl and boat? 
 
— 89 — 
 
 Jnaldh. Yes. Miss. 
 
 Lnurn. Then o-o quick, give this letter to the (■aptaiii for 
 Lieutenant Striekland. Do not fail. Give this to Mr. Percy. 
 ( Run exit Spoonek. ) It mny save his life ( BuftJus ami t((k(\s glass 
 nf (Cdter. Bus.) To-ni^-ht ends two months of mental aj^ony 
 that I thoug'ht no one could endure and preserve their sanity. 
 Oh. what a wretch I have become. Deceived a trustinj^- 
 father who dotes upon his children, repaid by one act of 
 treachery all the kindness of these noble people. Placed in 
 a position where, day by day, I have been a living lie — A 
 \ hing- to be scorned, pointed at, but not to be touched lest 
 contact with my garments might contaminate them — a de- 
 ceitful Avoman, a liar by my actions; a thief who has stolen 
 the heart — God help me — of the noblest man that ever lived. 
 For his love, for his devotion I have doomed him to ever- 
 lasting* disgrace, shorn him of his strength, his soldier- 
 ly faith, that all men honor and revere. The blind girl who 
 simply loved and was not even loved in return, could stiftte 
 self and country for the sake of the man she loved. ''For his 
 sake" she said, while I — My God, hasten the end, or I shall 
 go stark mad. {Enter Gerald.) 
 
 Gerald. Has anything happened, Laura? Every moment 
 is precious: we have been w^aiting for the countersign. If 
 anything is wrong I have promised my friends to set a red 
 light in the window as a signal that we cannot go forward to- 
 night. What is w^rong, why have you sent for meV 
 
 Laura. I didn't send for you. 
 
 Gerald. You did not send for meV 
 
 Laura. No, I sent you the countersign. 
 
 (ferald. Then what is the meaning of this letter? It is ad- 
 dressed to me. ''I must see you. If you love me, come to 
 me at once. I am alone."" 
 
 Laura. {Bus.) My God, I sent you the wrong letter. 
 
 Ger(dd. Who got the other one? 
 
 Laura. Lieutenant Strickland. 
 
 Gerald. What? Was this letter fneant for him? (rV«<.s7<rx 
 letter and envelope in his hand and throws them on the floor. ) 
 
 Laura. Yes, yes, yes. 
 
 Gerald. Unhappy girl, if that letter has reached him wo 
 are lost. Why did you send for him? 
 
 Laur((., (Bus.) Because he loves me. 
 
 Gerald. What has love to do at such a time as this? Your 
 life, 3'our honor, mine, our country, everything is at stake. 
 
 L(iura. His life, his honor is also at stake. 
 
 Harni. {Outside cheerfulU/) Where is everybody? (Bldure 
 hoth sta'rt.) 
 
— 40 — 
 
 Laura. His voice, he has not g'ot it, 
 
 Gerald. A moment for reflection. Quick, into that room. 
 {Blows out light and they exit door in flat. Enter Harry.) 
 
 Harry. All at the concert. I envy them. They have her 
 company daily and see her always while I must steal my vis- 
 its, almost. I meant to have surprised them hy coming- back 
 in time to go with them. I'll wait for them. Jove, how dark 
 it is here. I must have a light. (Strikes a- match and lights 
 red light in window.) There, that's better. What's to read 
 here ? [Picli'S up paper) War, war, nothing but war. I pre- 
 fer something milder. Wonder if there's a love story in the 
 house, [scans books.) No, nothing I want. I'm lonesome with- 
 out her. {Lightly.) Perhaps I'm afraid of the dark. I'll 
 strike another light. {Comes down stage feeling in his pockets) 
 That was my last match. {Picks up letter and envelope from 
 floor) Here's something will do. {Goes to red light folding 
 paper ivhich he starts to light) Perhaps I'd better see what I'm 
 burning up. {Unfolds and looks at letter) In Laura's hand. 
 Jove, how well T know it. {reads) "I must see you. If you 
 love me come to me at once. I am alone. Laura." Why. 
 this was meant for me. Where is she ? Why, did she not 
 send it? Here is the envelope and addressed. (Beads) 
 "Gerald Percy." (Coming doivn stage) Gerald Percy. 
 [Enter Laura, stDnds clutching curtains.) 
 
 Harry. What is the meaning of this letter? 
 
 Laura. (Bus.) You have read it? 
 
 Harry. Yes, was it intended for Gerald Percy? 
 
 Laura. (Bus. Coming toward him) And you know all? 
 then kill me. 
 
 Harry. (Bus.) My God, you are . 
 
 Laura. All that letter implies. Deceitful, treacherous. 
 false — not the woman I have seemed. If you ever loved me 
 kill me. {Kneeliiig) but spare him. 
 
 Harry. Oh, God, and I have held you little less than an 
 angel, pure, guiltless, I made an idol of you, worshiped you 
 day and night — for this— for this, (Gerald rushes in». and 
 stops as Harry reads, bitterly) ''If you love me, come to me; 
 am alone." (Laura screams and sjirings to her feet) The lamps 
 were out, her bed chamber. My Gcd, he is your lover. 
 (Laura springs to deny when Gerald motions her to be silent 
 and she boiDs her head slowly as if in shame. Picture.) 
 
 curtain. 
 
 [Upon curtain Cfdled, development of plot to be shown.] 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 Srnne as Scene III— Act 11— Stage clear— Lamp lighted. As 
 curtain goes up voicec< and laughter outside— Enter Alice. 
 
— 41 — 
 
 Mrs. S., Mrs. M., (oul Willie— Willie runs at once to 
 loiinye (oid is suon asleep — Ladies are bust/ renioriuy wraps. 
 3Irs. *S. Alic3 invite the gentlemen to remain for a little 
 luncii. [Uxit Alice. 
 
 Mrs. M\ ( Very proper) Why it is too late. 
 
 J\Lrs. *S', We must have a cup of tea. I will make it mj"- 
 f^ielf. Lay aside your cloak and sit down, Sarah, I'll not be a 
 minute. [Exit L. 1.) 
 
 Jlrs. M. Stran,j'e woman, my sister, but then slie hasn't 
 traveled much. And that dear old Captain Wade that I had 
 such a remarkable interview with a'month since. I wish he 
 wasn't given so much to cloves; or maybe that is why I like 
 him. it was the same with the late Major. Washington is 
 such a place for cloves. 
 
 Aliee. [Outside) Why, of course you will. 
 
 Wade [Outside) Come on, Dick, we might as well, 1 
 reckon. 
 
 Mrs. M. [Hearing AVade. Bus) 1 believe I will have a 
 little tea. (Alice and Dick enteriny and, coiiiiny dov)!. 
 Alice removiny luraps — Wade at haek.) 
 
 Alice. I think you are hateful to hang back when I am 
 just dying to have you stay. 
 
 I>/cA-. Meant to stay all the time. Thought I'd shake the- 
 Governor and come back. Worried about the Governor— He 
 can t swim. 
 
 Alice. Can't swimV 
 
 JJicl: No, and (poi«?in^ to Mrs. ilf.) he is getting in over 
 his head. 
 
 Alice. Oh, Dick, what fun. [Exit ivith her wraps. Dick 
 looks after her and siyhs.) 
 
 3Irs. M. (7b Wade icho has come down to her.) What did 
 you think of the performance, Capteftn Wade? 
 
 Wade. Liked it first rate, most of it, especially the young 
 woman in that string of beads. 
 
 3frs. M. I saw no young lady in a string of beads, unless 
 you refer to the young girl who wore the pearl ncklace and 
 with her gown cut a-la-. 
 
 Wade. Ah la, la -la, that's the one. Her voice was sweat- 
 er than the south wind humming through the riggin' of the 
 old scooner, Nancy Lewis, that I sailed on when I was a boy. 
 Ah, madame, don't you remembei'V No, of course not, that 
 was before your time. 
 
 Dick. The Governor is done for,— getting poetical. It is 
 
 a little rugged — but 
 
 Wad'^. Eh, Dick, what's that? 
 
 Dick. Nothing, Governor. 
 
— 42 — 
 
 Wade. {Giving him a glance., then under Jm breath) Don't 
 call me that in her presence. (To her) How did it strike 
 you, madameV 
 
 Mrs. M. I enjoyed it very much, thank you Captain, Thj 
 Bohemian Girl has always been a great favorite of mine. 
 
 Wade. You don't mean to tell me that girl was a Bohem- 
 ian? 
 
 Dick. Certainly, Governor. {Bus. for Wade.) 
 
 Mrs. M. Bohemian Girl was the name of the opera from 
 which the selection was taken. It was 
 
 Dick. [Interrupting) Pardon me, Mrs. Montford, I will 
 make it plain to him {Aside) Governor, how manj?^ cloves 
 have you had? 
 
 Wade. Eh? 
 
 Dick. Cloves. 
 
 Wade. [Anxiously) You don't think she noticed it, do you? 
 
 Dick. I'm not sure, women are naturally smart, you know. 
 
 Wade. But I wasn't near enough to her. 
 
 Dick. It isn't the cloves. Governor, it's your style. 
 
 Wade [Alarmed) You don^t say so. You don't mean to 
 tell me that I'm 
 
 Dick. Oh, no, only be a little careful. 
 
 Wade. {Contented.) Well, I thought it would be mighty 
 funny if I was drunk and didn't know it. 
 
 Dick. You wouldn't be the first man. Governor. 
 
 Wade. There, that will do. Madame will you do me the 
 honor to execute that little ballet? 
 
 Dick. Cloves. 
 
 Mrs. M. I think you mean ballad. 
 
 Wade. Glowering at Dick! Well, yes, I reckon I do. [As 
 Mrs S. ap'pears.] Oh, here is the tea, and the doughnuts. 
 
 Mrs. S. Are you getting impatient? I trust you have 
 been enjoying yourselves. 
 
 Dick. [As they approach table.'] The Governor has. [At 
 table Captain Wads at head., others ad. lib.] 
 
 Mrs. M. We have been discussing the opei'a and Captain 
 Wade has been captured by 
 
 Wade. [To Dick.] Was I as bad as that, Dick? [Dick 
 shakes his head, no.] 
 
 Mrs. M. She has a beautiful voice, I have heard her often 
 in Washington. [Enter Alice and opens Laura's door.] 
 
 Alice. Laura is not in her room. 
 
 Mrs. S. Not in her room? 
 
 Alice and Mrs. S. Where can she be? 
 
 Mrs. M. [Picking up gloves.] Whose gloves are these? 
 
 Alice, Harry's. 
 
— 48 — 
 
 Dick. And whose coat is thi«V 
 Alice. Harry's too. 
 
 Wade. Aha. The wind blows nor, nor-east. Look in the 
 i;arden for the Bohemian girl. [All luuyh.] 
 Mrs. S. He can't have gone to the Island. 
 Dick. Don't look like it. 
 Alice. Then they must be in the garden. 
 
 Dick. There's a great reasoner; what a mind she has. 
 Laura is not in her room — where can she beV Aha, whafs 
 this? A pair of gloves. And thisV A coat. Query: Whose 
 g-loves and whose coatV Why, Harry's. Well, what of it, 
 what have they to do with Laura's disappearance? Aha, do 
 you not decernV Class in spooning-, stand up. Who loves 
 LauraV Harry. Who loves Harry? Laura. Right again. 
 Argument: Such being- the conditions of affairs, at disap- 
 pearance of Laura, what is proven? Why that she is in the 
 garden with Harry. Wonderful g'irl, Alice. [^4?/ l((uyh.] 
 
 Willie. [Waking up] Why don't you make a noise and 
 wake a feller up? 
 
 Mrs. S. [Going to him.] Come Willie: I had forgotten the 
 child. 
 
 Alice. I'll take him. Kiss aunt Alice good night. [About 
 to lift him.] 
 
 Willie. Don't want to kiss everybody. 
 
 Dick. [IStepijingforicanl.] Let me do it Alice. [AllUmyh.] 
 
 Alice. Dick. 
 
 Dick. [^Embarrassed.] I meant let me carry him. [Dick 
 jiickshim up and goes to door L. V.] Now, say good night to 
 everybody, 
 
 Willie. " [Drowsily] Good night to everybody: [J^.tif 
 Willie, Dick and Alice.] 
 
 All. Good night. 
 
 Wade. Ladies, I will say good night. [Notices Mrs. ^'. (/o 
 off' L. 1 with tray.] 
 
 Mrs. IS. Good nigiit Aaron. [Exit.] 
 
 Wade. [Aside.'\ I've got to square myself with that woman 
 before I leave this house. First chance I've had for a month. 
 I got her heart mixed up with her government bonds that 
 last time I talked with her, and thought she was trying to 
 dispose of heart and hand, when, as a matter of fact, she was 
 trying to sell bonds. I'll buy her bonds. 
 
 Mrs. M. [Asidf.] I must accept him to-night if opportu- 
 nity offers. He shall not know I was talking about bonds. 
 
 Dick. [Entering and speaking off .] All right, Alice, I'll 
 wait for vou. 
 
— 44 — 
 
 Wade. [Aside.] Confound the luck. [Aloud.'] Ready to 
 1X0 Dick? 
 
 Dick. No, we are going to look for the Bohemian girl, 
 ha, ha. 
 
 Jfr.s. M. I thought my opportunity was lost. 
 
 Alice. [Enteriny] Come on Dick. You had better wait, 
 Captain Wade, we won't be long. [JerJcs her head over her 
 shoulder as they exit. ■■ 
 
 Wade. I fear Madame, I seemed a little impetuous 'tother 
 day in the talk we had. 
 
 Mrs' M. Not at all, Captain, believe me. I fear I seemeri 
 altogether too diffident. 
 
 Wade. Certainly not; of course mere matters of business 
 should be tackled in a business way. 
 
 Mrs. M. Business, Captain, business? You didn't treat it 
 as such when we last talked. 
 
 Wade. No, I didn't that's so. You did, and I ought to, 
 but I thought you were anxious to sell out or I wouldn t pres- 
 sed the matter quite so warm. However, if I didn't scare 
 you out of the notion, and you are still willing to deal, I will 
 dicker with you. 
 
 Mrs. M. Dicker? Captain Wade, I am not for sale, I'm 
 not for 
 
 Wade. Well, I don't doubt you can get some one who will 
 bid higher than T can afford to go. 
 
 Mrs. M. Captain, you must certainly intend to insult me. 
 
 Wade. Insult you, no, never thought of such a thing. 
 
 Mrs. M. Are you talking of the same thing you were 
 then — at our last interview? 
 
 Wade. Yes, aint you? 
 
 2frs. M. Certainly. 
 
 Wade. Then it's straight business, of course. 
 
 Mrs. M. You seem to be making it such. You have 
 changed suddenly. 
 
 Wade. Yes, yes, I know. You see I didn't quite — that is 
 — I didn't just understand your racket before. I thought 
 then— well — [Aside] I am getting water-logged. [Aloud] 
 The fact is, my heart was in the business 1 was talking about 
 then, but now, in order to please you,' I am getting right 
 down to the question of buy and sell, 
 
 Mrs. M. But it does not please me. It is positively shock- 
 ing. I am not for sale. 
 
 Wade. Then don't sell. 
 
 Mrs. M. This is too dreadful. You are trying to punish 
 me for my seeming coldness on that occasion. You could not 
 have been trifling with me. Oh, Captain I am willing you 
 
— 45 — 
 
 should take and keep, and have always, what you speak of. 
 It is and has been yours for a long- time. I ought to have told 
 you so before, but I didn't quite understand you then. 
 
 Wade. Give me? You can't afford it. What give nio 
 twent}^ thousand dollars' worth of bonds? 
 
 Mrs. M. Who said anything about bonds? 
 
 Wade. Arn't we talking about bonds? 
 
 Mrs. M. -Fm su"'e T don't knoAV. 
 
 Wade. Well, I'm talking about bonds now. 
 
 Mrs. M. Were you at our last interview? 
 
 Wade. No. 
 
 Mrs. 31. What Avere you talking of then? 
 
 Wade. Well, it wasn't bonds. 
 
 Mrs. M. What was it? 
 
 Wade. Matrimony. 
 
 Mrs. M. I didn't know it. I was tadking of bonds. 
 
 Wade. What are you talking of now? 
 
 Mrs. M. What you were talking of then. 
 
 Wade. Matrimony? 
 
 Mrs. M. Yes, but now you are talking of bonds. 
 
 Wade. Yes, and I want 'em. 
 
 Mrs. M. Are you sure we quite understand each other 
 now? 
 
 Wade. I don't knoAv. 
 
 Mrs. M. Neither do I. 
 
 Wade. What had I better do? 
 
 Mrs. M. Kiss me. * 
 
 Wade. They don't do that in Washington society. What 
 did I understand you to say? 
 
 Mrs. M. Kiss me. 
 
 Wade. I'm dizzy. 
 
 Mrs. M. So am I. [Wade Ksses /«?)•. Alice aud Dick «i 
 rear see this ami kiss each other.] 
 
 Dick. Hello, Governor. [Sensation for Wade— Dick and 
 Alice come doion heticeen them., Alice's eyes upraised. Wade 
 and Mrs. M. .see them. He goes L. she goes li. and up stage to 
 back. They meet at door. He kisses her hand and exit. He out 
 doors., she iq) stair.s. Dick and Alice .s^ajuZ mute in front. 
 They exchange glances.] 
 
 Dick. [Going up at door.] Good night, Alice. 
 
 Alice. [DwjOu stage] Goodnight. [Dick looks other (Did 
 hursts into a laugh. Alice runs up and kisses him and Dick 
 rxits. ] 
 
 Alice. {Coming down) Isn't it funny? Ha, ha, ha. [Enter 
 Mrs. S.) Oh, mother. 
 
 Mrs. S. What is the matter, my dear? 
 
— 46 — 
 
 Alice. I can't tell you. Go up and ask aunt Sarah. 
 
 Mvf. S. Has the Captain proposed? [Alice nods assent.) 
 Well, I must go and congTatuiate her. Dear girl, (going) I 
 thought it would come. [JExit up stairs.) 
 
 Alice. Oh, dear, it's too funny. It's too funny. I must 
 tell Harry and Laura. I wonder where they are. I wish 
 they would come. {Looking at album.) Here are their pic- 
 tures. How lovely they look together. Poor Harry, he is 
 awfully in love. So am I — with Dick. {Turns page) Hello, 
 Dick. I didn't have any tea. I'll get a cup while I wait. 
 [To Dick's picture.) Excuse me, please, I'll return presently. 
 What say? "It's deuced kind of me. " ( Immit ating DiCK.) 
 Oh, not at all, I assure you. {Exit. Enter Laura and Lizzie 
 front outside.) 
 
 Laura. There, courage, child. We can rest now. 
 
 Lizzie. Best, rest; where are we? 
 
 Laura. At Mrs. Strickland's. 
 
 Lizzie. Lieutenant Strickland's mother. Let us go— we 
 are betraying him. 
 
 Laura. I am betraying him, not you. 
 
 Lizzie. And am I not? I know of it, yet do not tell. It is 
 also terrible to think of. Once I could not have done this. 
 I would rather die. I wonder I do not hate myself, my father, 
 you — and I do hate you. But he asked me for his sake to do 
 it, and I will. But I can't stay here, in this house. Let us 
 go. 
 
 Laura. {Coldly.) We must, till Mr. Percy comes. He 
 will be here soon. 
 
 Lizzie. How can you do it? Have you no heart? 
 
 Laura. No. 
 
 Lizzie. If he knew, what would he think of you? 
 
 Laura. Less harshly than he does for now he thinks 
 
 Lizzie. Oh, Miss Vane, he loves you. 
 
 Laura. Yes. 
 
 Lizzie. And you love him. 
 
 Laura. Yes. 
 
 Lizzie. Not as I love. 
 
 Tjaura. As she loves. 
 
 Lizzie. For if you did 
 
 Laura. Yes, yes, go on, go on. 
 
 Lizzie. You would abandon all for him and crawl to his 
 feet; tell him all and save his honor. 
 
 Laura. Yes.^ 
 
 Lizzie. {Bus.) No, no, you shall not, that would mean 
 ,your life, my father's, his, Mr. Percy's, No, you shall not 
 tell him. 
 
— 47 — 
 
 Launi. No. 
 
 Lizzie. No, it would mean his life. If he should meet my 
 lather! [Mu.sic) Oh, it is so terrible. Father had a letter 
 that Mr. Percy wanted and he came to our house for it. I 
 was alone and, oh, so frightened, but when I heard his voice 
 I opened the door. Father came soon after and they quar- 
 reled, but Mr. Percy got the letter, and then — father cursed 
 him and said he would follow and kill him. He .eft the 
 house and then you came. If he should, Miss Vane. If he 
 should. I must warn him. Oh, what's thatV 
 
 Laura. Nothing, nothing, you will rouse the house. You 
 must not be seen here. We will go to my room. Mr. Percy 
 will come soon; come. (Exit into luAUR a'' s room.) 
 
 AUice. [Enterfi L. 1. arranges furniture. Huniining.) Oh, 
 pardon me. [takes up album) I quite forgot you were here. 
 What, wounded your feelings? I wouldn't do that for the 
 world — Do IV Do I? Now, that is very unkind of you. Can 
 you doubt me? I knew you could not. No, sir, it would not 
 be proper. Oh, just for luck — well that's another matter. 
 {Puts photo to her cheek'.) Why, Mr. Wade, I am surprised, I 
 am, indeed. What you won't? Yes you will — yes you will, 
 I know you will. {Ju.sses card.) There you did. Ha, ha, ha. 
 {Kisses card.) Good night Dick. {Exit.} 
 
 Laura. {Enters.) I can't remain in that room and listen 
 to her talk of him — my brother. Is he a brother who can 
 let a sister's name be coupled with such infamy? What am 
 I to him? — A tool, merely a tool with which he works to ac- 
 complish an end. War makes men monsters — all but him. 
 The horror and reproach in his eyes were daggers that stab- 
 bed me here. Why do I care? My brother does not "He 
 is an enemy." Yes, he is an enemy — an enemy whose good 
 opinion is worthless. Is it so? No, no, it is not. His love, 
 his good opinion are worth more to me than all the world 
 besides — than — all — the — world— beside. {Sees herself in glass 
 and laughii' hysterically.) Oh, how old I grow. Stop do not 
 laugh at me. My brother wills it. Why? He has a cause 
 — his ambition is at stake, his honor. Mine is nothing, no, 
 nor Harry Strickland's neither, that is nothing to my brother. 
 But they are to me, yes, everything to me, and they shall 
 not be trampled under foot. No, I'll rebel. My God, I'll tell 
 him all — crawl to his feet and tell him. She would for him, 
 am I less?— (CZocA- strikes twelve.) The hour is striking. Hush 
 I hear his step. He's coming for me. {Pause.) No. (*So^- 
 hing) It's nothing, nothing; I must wait. {Sits on so^fa in 
 front of fire place. Enter Harry; Ids hair disheveled, and suf- 
 fering. Stoxjs., comes slowly down center to frord of screen and 
 
— 48 — 
 
 extends hand toward, iire — Laura shrinl^s. Harry sighs goes 
 to table L. and sits. ) 
 
 Harry. To night ends all. To-morrow she shall be as 
 dead to me as though she had never lived, If I could blot 
 her memory from my life, or be a man and curse her — curse 
 her as I should — curse till iny curses kill her — but \. can't. 
 My God, I loved her and my heart holds the image of one 
 who was only pure and good. It shall be her sepulchre closed 
 forever. No, she played me for a fool for him to laugh at. I 
 should thank God I found her out in time. If it had not been 
 for that letter — that accursed letter I might have gone on to 
 the end, blind, blind. The hypocrite. My mother's friend, 
 my sister's confidante, the teacher of my brother's innocent 
 children, my affianced wife — my wife — I worshiped her, held 
 her image in my heart, enshrined it there; while she, she 
 mocked me — made me the object of his ridicule. Yes, she 
 made my love a mask to hide her shame. Used it, used it as 
 as a foil to make my home a brothal. (Laura has come from i 
 behind the screen, unable to bear the accusation.) 
 
 Laura. No. 
 
 Harr. {With intense scorn.) Woman. 
 
 Laura. You shall not say it, shall not think it — anything 
 but that. I have deceived you, cheated, tricked you. Yes — 
 but I am not that. 
 
 Harry. What are you? 
 
 Laura. I am a spy. 
 
 Harry. My God. 
 
 Laura. I would have scorned your accusations once. I 
 came into your life to rob you of your honor, if I could. You 
 are a soldier. I your enemy. 1 tried to do it, but I have 
 failed — failed because I can't endure your scorn; because, be- 
 cause I love you — love you — do you hear? I'll tell you all. 
 
 Harry. [Tarns aioay.) Goon. 
 
 ■ Laura. Don't turn away. (^»fer Gerald.) I cannot bear 
 it. Yes, 111 tell you all. There has been a plot to free your 
 prisoners. 
 
 Harry. What? 
 
 Laura. I have aided them. 
 
 Harry. You? 
 
 Laura. Curse me, if you will. I loved you, would have 
 stopped, but could not — I was driven on. To-day I got the 
 countersign from you — They should have had it — Should 
 have struck to night. (Gerald draws hnife.) But you, 
 yourself, yes, jom prevented it. Thank God, you thwarted 
 them. (Laura turns 'and sees Gerald's 2^urpose, screams 
 and iyUch2s forward. Harry catches her. Gebal.d turns and 
 
hrsthdis (I H iiL-^hiiit iiml trhals lo sliiki just as Va'A'/AV, nnius 
 ihiwn (Did ftfionls helirren Gkkai.d n)id Hahhv. Ai< Pcirif 
 riiis'cs his IkouI U> strike he sees her. siinjiicrs (itul (Irojts kuit'i'.) 
 Lizzie Miss Vane. 
 
 CURTAIN. 
 
 Sl'l'l'LblMESTAL ESDlXd OF ACT III. 
 
 (Laura Ims cfnuf uii hack dnrin'/ Harry's spiivii mtil In- iiini.< 
 
 (did seeti her.) 
 
 Lenira. {Aijpeedinyhi.) One word. 
 
 Harri/. Not to save your life. 
 
 Laum. Oil. you must listen to me. 
 
 H((rrt/. Must, woman? 
 
 L((ur((. You must, you must, (.l.s- Harry .^turfs to ijo sin 
 stiipshirn.) You shall listen tome. It is for your life's sake. 
 { As he idternpts to brush past her.) Stop, for God"s sake Ilea i- 
 me. Your soldier's honor is at stake. 
 
 Harry. {Starts, stops and turns his back on her. Dowii L. < 
 What?" 
 
 Laura. ((\) Your honor, your soldier's honor. There 
 have heen at work for weeks, plotters for the liheration of 
 the prisoners yonder. Everything' is prepared. To-niuht 
 the hlow is to be struck. 
 
 l[((rri/. *My God. 
 
 Laura. (Stops him. } Not yet, hear me out. It will not 
 fall to-nig-ht, now; you, yourself have prevented it. but it may 
 (•(•me; the plans are perfect, the hour appointed is waitinij-. 
 the forces are near at hand. I have known this all ahmji". 
 
 H((rry. You? 
 
 Laura. And have helped them in every way. I ^ave you 
 the countersi;o-n to-day and they should have had it. (Harry 
 starts.) But they haven't, they haven't. You are safe to- 
 iiiiiht. Now. for the love you once had for me. kill me. foi- 
 [ love you — have loved you — Oh. d(m't turn away fi-om me. T 
 can bear it, bear anythinj^- but coldness. Kill me. Li«Mi1cnaiil 
 Strickland of the Federal army, for I am a SP^^ 
 
 ( llus. The semte as at done of Act Three. ) 
 
 CURTAIN. 
 
Act IV. 
 
 SCJiJN]^ — Count I'lj h()us( irltJi pordi R. (luiln^ on poirJi— 
 
 — Wood L. — K}ioU L. l\ Act drop representing rallei/ heloa: 
 
 — Road running off behind bluff — Home of the Marriuis foDi- 
 ih/ near iJalton^ Ga. Time 1864 — P'nt of Sherman's arriu/ 
 guarding railroad bridge in. the r<dlei/. An curtain goes up 
 K(mnd of distant cannon ands]{irmishing — Laura and Lizzif 
 
 ' on porch — Zeke Zion occupying loolrjut on bluff, hoking 
 d(nvn the road. As cannon is heard Laura and Lizzie start, 
 ■ Lizzie. What was that? 
 
 Laura. A cannon. I do not understand it, but I fear ■ 
 
 Lizzie. Fear what? 
 
 J^aura. Another engagement is iminent. 
 
 Zion. {On Irjol'out.) I reckon ther's gwine to be mo' tight- 
 in", and you uns better keep shady. Bin some skirmishing 
 off yander, and there's a Yank Reegiment a. postin' yander 
 by tlie ford. 'Pears like tliar mought be trouble bre win. ' 
 \(.''oniing doivn.) I gwine to make myself scurse and find out 
 what it means. iliJxit R.) 
 
 Lizzie. Is there going to be another battle? 
 , Laura. I trust not, dear. 
 
 Lizzie. Will this terrible war never end? I think of noth- 
 ing else, and even in my dreams, when the wind blows, I 
 hear the roar of cannon. Where is ]\Ir. Gerald, now? 
 
 Laura. He should be at Atlanta, though I hear General 
 Hood s sending out expeditions to cut oft' Sherman's commun- 
 ications as far as Dalton. I think the firing indicated such 
 an expc dition below us in the valley. 
 
 Lizzie. And this is your old home? 
 
 Laura. Yes, this is our old home over-looking the valley, 
 a few miles below Dalton. It was a happy home until the 
 war desolated the whole south. How little we thought in 
 the beginning that this peaceful valley Avould know the 
 tumult of contending armies. 
 
 Lizzie. And how little I thought I should ever be so far 
 away from our old home, or should ever want to see the 
 southern cause successful, but since I have known him,(«.s/fZf ) 
 and loved him so — I have wanted him to succeed. I have be- 
 come a traitor, I think. Why did you bring us here? 
 
 Laura. We could not leave you in Sandusk\% dear, your 
 father's life would not have been safe there. He was im- 
 ])licated in the plot to free the pri oners. 
 
 Lizzie. Poor father, poor father, where is he? 
 
— ol — 
 
 Limrn. In the uai'doii, deai*. 
 
 Lizzie. Miss Marquis — Luuni. have you ever liearil from 
 f^ieut. Strickland since that- ni.yiity 
 
 Lnurd. No. 
 
 J^izzic. You do not know whether he is livini;' or dead? 
 
 Ldio-d. Not Avhetlier he is livin^ pi- dead. 
 
 Lizzie. Why did he {ilU)W us to ^"o unpunislied? 
 
 Lnurii. (Bus.) Tliere dear, there. (Lizzie conf/As, puis 
 lie r IhdhI in 'LauRX's.) Well dearV 
 
 Lizzie. He loved you — and you loved him. Since 1 have 
 learned to know what that is I cannf)t liear to think that you 
 will never see each other again. This war must end some- 
 time and then 
 
 Ldiirn. {Medit(itinh/:) And tlien 
 
 Lizzie. You know what I mean. I can't live lon^-. I know 
 that — the doctor told me so. Any excitement may kill me. 
 Init I do want to live to hear his voice a^ain. Oh. my heai-t 
 1)eats so at times. 
 
 L((ur(i. (SootJiiiiy her.) You have overtaxed your stren.i>1h 
 dear. We must g"o in, the dew will be falling soon. Do not 
 he distressed, there is no danger here. (Exit iitto hou.^e.) 
 
 Jfmnh. {EntO'S at hdok a.s Lauka exii^. He is (rippled and 
 iinbcHle tlirowjh pfirdli/si.^.) There she is — there she is. [- 
 know her. I aint sure about everybody, hut I ' now her. 
 Seems to me I have had a shock and things aint clear to me. 
 I don"t see nothing of the boats and that don"t look like the 
 Island over there, but I know her. My strength's got away 
 from me — Everything- seems getting away fi'om me. 'cept my 
 love for hei". He tried to rob me of her but I didn't let him. 
 Now she's so white, so weak and trembly, curse him. Here 
 I am. Lizzie, 
 
 Lizzie. Father. 
 
 Joftiah. Yes, yes, Lizzie, I'm here. (Enter at Ixick ZiON.) 
 
 Zion. We uns had better lig-ht out "en here. Thar's Yanks 
 a comin' up the road. 
 
 Jnsiidi. (0)1 step.^) What do I care. I ain't afeard of "em 
 let "em come. They can't do nothin' to me — I only lent "em 
 boats, that's all. 
 
 Zion. We uns air non-combatants but they moughtent 
 "bleeve it and tote me off ef I don't scoot, but "pears like ets 
 kinder shirkin" to scoot and leave you uns alone. {looks off'.) 
 I 'tended to, but I reckon its too late. I reckon I'll sco<^t. 
 I Dick appears at txick us (■(tinaai is fired, stops. listens and 
 rojins forii'ord.) 
 
 IHrk. (lUis.) I guess you'd l^etter halt. 1 hate t<» Icill y(»u. 
 
— :^'> 
 
 Zlon. {Bh8.) Reckon I'd better haicl. I'd pow* fal dislike 
 to liave ye, Square. 
 
 DlcJi", It's rather unpleasant, but I'd like to ask you what 
 you thought of doingV 
 
 Zlon. I moughten thought o' borrin* a dollar otT you uns 
 but I reckon I want thinkin' o' that. 
 
 Dick. No, I reckon not. 
 
 Zion. I reckon I thought I'd scoot, 
 
 JJlck. I reckon you did. If its not too impertinent and all 
 that sort of thing, I'll have to ask you who you areV 
 
 Zion. Fm a non-combatant 'cause the folks can't spar me. 
 I'm a doctor Squar and I live tother side of the divide. I 
 reckon you uns don't know me. 
 
 Dick. Well, I've met some of your kind of folks before but 
 I didn't quite place you. 
 
 Zion. ( Taking a chew.) No I reckon not. 
 
 Dick. (T((kiny ZioiS!-s tobacco.) Curious, aint itV 
 
 Zion. *Tis; kinder. 
 
 Dick. (Putting tobacco in pocket.) But I have you i)laced 
 now; I Beturning tob((CCO.) excuse me, I'm excited. 
 
 Zion. {Confidenti(dlii.) No. 
 
 Dick. { Imitating him.) Yes. 
 
 Zsion. You got me placed'? 
 
 Dick. Yes, under arrest. 
 
 Z^ion. But Squar, I'm a con-combatant. 
 
 Dick. I met a brother of yours two months ago; I was go- 
 ing along and he was going along. I was Hhead and he was 
 behind, assisting me with a bayonet. Felt so elated I haven't 
 wanted to sit down since. \ reckon he was some of your 
 folks. He's a non-c3mbLitant now. (£'/ifer HAR:iY. ) 
 
 lldfYij. What have you here, Sergeant? 
 
 Dick. He is a razor-back, tine specimen. 
 
 Zion. Howdy, Squar V ( Enter ^ Rastus.) 
 
 'lia.'itus. Massa Zion, massa Zion, deas a lot of Yanks— 
 I .Sees Harry and Dick.) Oh, Lawd, deas a couple of Yanks 
 now. Is dey done gwine toat you oft', Massa ZionV 
 
 Harry. Who are youV 
 
 Has. I'm 'Rastus, Massa, I b'long- to Massa Zion, 
 
 Zion. He's my chattel, Squar, pow'ful pert niggar. I 
 reckon you'd better show these gentlemen what you kin do. 
 
 Ua^. If Massa whistle I'll cut a pigeon-wing. (Bini.) 
 
 Dick. How's that. Colonel? 
 
 llorrij. That will do. 
 
 Dicl^. Think I ought to buy him and send him home to 
 the Governor as a wedding present. Poor Governor, he's in 
 
for it. I'd like to l)c home now. Wish I'd never enlislrd. 
 Alice is huvinj^- dead loads of fun with the (xovernor. 
 
 Harrt/. What do you mean DieUV 
 
 />/cA'. Cxovernoi' has heen wanting to ji:o to wai*, well, he's 
 linally done it; married Mrs. Montford last week. (fOt a, let- 
 ter from AUie to-day. 
 
 H((ryij. From Alice, are they well? 
 
 Dkl:. Yes. all right. Here it is. You can read it, hut 
 take care of it — think a good deal of it. You'd hetter ski]) 
 the ''D's*' in it. 
 
 Harrij. The '-D's" ? 
 
 Diak. The Dickies, and Dovies and Darlings. 
 
 Hurry. Ha, ha, ha, oh, yes. 
 
 Dick, (ruess I'd hetter send the pickaniny to the Ciov- 
 ernor. 
 
 Zion. Peart niggar, aint he SquarV He's wuth his weight 
 in g-old hut times is pow'*ful hard. If you want him I'll sell 
 liim to you cheap, Squar. 
 
 Dick. See here, 'Rastus, what will you take for himV 
 
 li(Mui<. Hey, what's that? Whafll I take for him? Ha, 
 ha, ha, golly, you don't mean it. You can have him. Tote 
 him off and I's done gwine fishin.' Good hye Massa Zion. 
 1 Exit. ) 
 
 Harrij. (IhZiON) Who are you, anyway? 
 
 Zion. I'm a yarbist, Squar. I'm a non-combatant. T 
 didn't go for the army "cause the people can't spar me. 
 
 Dick. Where do j'ou live? 
 
 Zion. 'Tother sid-e the divide, Squar. 
 
 Harry. I suspect you are a deserter? 
 
 Dick. Why aint you in the ai'my? 
 
 ZAon. I reckon I aint g'ot no call for lightin," Squar. 
 
 Dick. Shake. 
 
 Zion. Howdy? 
 
 Dick. I'm with you. You'r a true friend to the North for 
 you'r so thin it would be a dead Avaste of lead to try to kill 
 you. It's different with me. 
 
 Ztion. Yais 'tis. You'r oncommon wide. { Enter liASTV^, 
 nntniny.) 
 
 /fa.s/w.s. Oh, Massa Zion, ders a whole lot mo' Yanks down 
 ))y the ford. ( 2'o Harry) Does dey b'long- to you'uns, 
 F^oss? I 'se g- wine to look at 'em some mo.' ISOirts.) 
 
 Dick. Halt. 
 
 lias. Yes, Massa. 
 
 Harry. Is this man your master? 
 
 Haii. I recon he is 'case he 'lows to lick mo. 
 
 Harry. Where does he belong? 
 
— o4 
 
 Zlon. I y\vc)\v, you aint far' Squar, takin' a nig'o"ar".s worJ 
 afore you do a g'emmen's. I teli you I'm a doctor lookin,::^- 
 after them too. [Pointing to porch) The okV uns had a shock 
 and the gal — she's blind. They blongs to you \ms. Them- 
 ens is Yanks. 
 
 Harry. This man is not dangerous but you may take him 
 down and place him under guard until we investigate. [Read- 
 ing letter.) 
 
 Dick. All right, Colonel. 
 
 Zion. I swow to the Lord I'm a non-combatant, Colonel. 
 
 Dick. Look at him. Reading a letter from home and 
 thinking about her, I'll bet money. Poor devil, she blasted 
 his life, that w^oman did. Wonder what happened that night? 
 I never knew, Alice never knew, none never knew. Perhaps 
 he'll tell me sometime. [As ZiON starts of ahead of him ) 
 Hold on there, you are under arrest. (Exit.) 
 
 Ham/. Looks up and stops reading.) Who are these peo- 
 ple? 
 
 Rastus. Deys from the Norf, Massa Marquis fotched 'em. 
 
 Harry. Marquis? [Bus.) Spooner, the blind g'irl, Lizzie, 
 they here? Spooner, Lizzie, don't you know me? 
 
 Lizzie. I know you'r voice, yes, you are Lieut. Strickland. 
 I'm so glad you have come. 
 
 Josiali. Don't j'ou tech her, don't you dare. 'Twant her, 
 she didn't know nothing about it. It was me that bargained 
 with them for the boat. She's a little blind thing that 
 wouldn't do no body no harm. It was me that wasn't square 
 — and him. She'd a told you if it hadn't been she loved him. 
 
 Harry. What do you mean Spooner? What are you 
 doing here? 
 
 Lizzie. Don't you know why we are here? 
 
 Harry. No. But stay, you were never seen in Sandusky 
 after that night. [Aside at L.) Spooner was in the plot. 
 [Aloud.) You came here with them? With her? With 
 Laura Van 3 ? 
 
 Lizzie. Yes. 
 
 Harry. With them? 
 
 Lizzie. Yes. 
 
 Josiah. No, we didn't, we didn't know the woman. 
 
 lAzzie. Father? 
 
 Josiah. You're putting a rope around my neck. 
 
 Harry. You have nothing to fear from mo. [Jius.) Liz- 
 zie, can you tell me anything of her? {Enter Laura from 
 house unperceived. ) 
 
 Lizzie. Yes, yes, you love her? 
 
 Harry. Once I did. 
 
Lizzie, And she is iiotliin^to you now? 
 
 ■Jlnn'ii. Nothin}^-. 
 
 Lizzie. Then leave this place at oiiee. I can tell you 
 nothing- of her. (Laura taka^ her luoid.) 
 
 1 lurry. Once she was moi-e to me than all else, she was my 
 .-ittianced wife. Do you know why she left Sandusky? 
 
 Lizzie. Yes. 
 
 Harry. {Bitterly.) Do you know what bhi was? 
 
 Lizzie. Yes. 
 
 Harry. Then yt)u know why she is nothing-, can be nothing 
 to be but a memory. That was a chapter in my life it 
 would be w-ell for me if I could forg-et. I loved her and want 
 to think her no worse than I ought. T do not even know 
 who she was. There is a doubt in my mind that troubles 
 me. You can settle that doubt and I ask you for her sake as 
 well as mine to do it I know slie was Gerald Percy's con- 
 federate in treason. What more w^as she to himV 
 
 L(tur<{. You need not answer that. 
 
 Hurry. Miss Vane. 
 
 Laura. { I^ool:^ at Harry coldly .) Lizzie let your father 
 take you into the garden, I wish to speak to this officer alone. 
 
 Jemah. Yes, yes, well go. He shant harm you. it was me 
 that was to blame. 
 
 Lizzie. Oh, Laura. {Pref<i<en'Lw\xv'Aiihand to her heart.) 
 
 Laura. {Assisting Lizzie enf.) Ill come to you soon. iE.rif 
 Lizzie and Josiah.) , 
 
 Laura. {Turning to Harry.) Now^ question me. 
 
 Harry. For God sake, for what has been betw^een us in the 
 past, answer that question? 
 
 Laura. No. 
 
 Harry. Why? 
 
 Laura, Because you have no right to ask it. I am nothing' 
 to you. 
 
 Harry. You have another reason. 
 
 Laura. Yes. 
 
 Harry. _What? 
 
 Laura. Pride. There is an end to my humiliation. 
 You know I was a spy whom you purposely permitted to 
 escape. I'm g-lad you know it, I'm proud of it. What I did 
 was done to aid my country. That cause was dear to me but 
 I betrayed it— you know why. I was weak, ha' f crazed, and 
 rather than have you think 'me what you did, I stittled pride, 
 my loyaUty to country, my brothers, all my heart held dear- 
 est—humiliated myself at your feet and confessed all that I 
 was g-uilty of. Was not this enough to clear me from sus- 
 picion of worse crime ? If not, think of me what you will. 
 
56 
 
 JIarvy. I could not doubt you loved me, but that letter. 
 
 Laura. Was meant for you. 
 
 Harry. And Gerald Percy? 
 
 Laura. That was not his name. 
 
 Harry. His name? 
 
 Laura. Was Marquis. 
 
 Harry. You ? 
 
 Laura. I am his and Edward Marquis' sister. 
 
 Harry. Her brother, what a blind fool I was. Ned Mar- 
 quis ? 
 
 Laura. Is at the front fighting for the cause I betrayed 
 for you. I have answered you, now, leave me. ■• 
 
 Harry. Laura. 
 
 I^aura. Go. 
 
 Harry. I cannot, you are in danger. 
 
 Laura. How ? 
 
 Harry. We expect trouble at any time. I am in com- 
 m.and of a regiment guarding the ford below. I must have 
 you removed to a place of safety. The enemy is in posses- 
 sion of the town and we will attack them soon, 
 
 Laura. The enemy? 
 
 Harry. Yes. 
 
 Laura. You forget your enemies are my friends. I will 
 remain here. 
 
 Harry. You cannot. (Cannon in the distance.) Do you 
 hear that? That may be the signal foi' assault. I will not 
 permit you to expose yourself to dangei*. I beg you to leave 
 this place. 
 
 Laura. And if I refuse? 
 
 Harry. Then I shall place you under arrest and have you 
 removed by force. 
 
 Laura. You? 
 
 Harry. Yes. 
 
 Laura. If you dare. This is the depth of my humiliation. 
 Go. [Exit intolwuse. Hfjuncl f)f fikirml^iiing. Enter 'Hastjjs. } 
 
 jRff.s. Deys fightin' Massa, I gwine to hide. (Enter DiCK. ) 
 
 Harry. What is it, Dick? 
 
 Dick. It's only an exchange of shots with areconnoitering 
 party," but there's trouble coming, I'm excited. 
 
 Harry. If an engagement is imminent this is no place for 
 these people. They must be removed beyond the line. Dick 
 she is here, Laura Vane, and old Spqoner, and the blind girl, 
 Lizzie. 
 
 Dick. What was that? 
 
 Harry. Come on, I'll tell you about it as we go, there is 
 
iu> time to lose. (Exil irilh Dic'K. Eiatcr Lauka f/.s thvi/ rjll. 
 I)isi((nt xkiiviishinii. ) 
 
 Lnurn. Gone, thank- Heaven. I never want to loolc upon 
 
 liis face aj^ain. How dare he, how dare . {Enter Gkkali> 
 
 (lishcreled <i)id (rounded.) (ierald, you here? You are hui-t. 
 what has happened? 
 
 (fendd. Yes, I was leading- a scoutin«i- party because I 
 Icnew the ^^round. We were tired upon from ani})ush. My 
 horse fell under me. Fm shot. 
 
 Lduvii. You can't stay here, the whole place swarms with 
 federals. 
 
 (rendd. We 1, they shall not take me alive. In a few 
 minutes it will be dark and then I can elude them. (Sirwj- 
 i/les) Get me some brandy, quick, [Exit Lauka <(!< Lizzii-: 
 tntevft id haek.) 
 
 Lizzie. Laura, Laura. 
 
 Gerald. That child again* She must not know I'm here. 
 
 Lizzie Laura, dear. {Grapes her way dertrn and trna'Ius 
 G'ridd.) Oh, what's thatV 
 
 Gerald. 'Tis I, Lizzie, Gerald Marquis, don't l)e fri^jhten- 
 ed. 
 
 Lizzie. UStayyer.'< and half i<vreant.^.) Oh, Mr. Marquis, is 
 it you? I'm so jjlad. What was the tirino? Have you 
 driven them away? 
 
 Gendd. Yes. little one, don't be afraid. 
 
 Lizzie. {Taking hi.^ hand.) I'm so jjiad, so j^lad. {I'uls 
 her hand on hifi neck and f<tains it u'ilh blood. >ifayf hHji)i.^ to 
 darken, Qaldimi light ready. L. V.) Why, what's that? 
 
 Gerald. It's nothing. It's water, I — I've been bathing mv 
 forehead, that's all. Oh, God, why don't she come? 
 
 Lizzie. Mr. Marquis, how strange you are. How you 
 gasp. What is it, what is it? 
 
 Gendd. (Enter 'SYOOyi^u.) It's nothing, nothing, 
 
 Josiah. There she is, there she is, but who is that? It's 
 him, its him. What have you done? What have you don<' 
 to her? 
 
 (rendd. Hush for (iod's sake, I've done nothing. 
 
 .Jo.Hiah. You lie, curse you, there's blood (m her too. 
 
 Lizzie. Blood I [Screains.) Gerald, Gerald, you are n(tt 
 hurt ? Tell me you are not hurt ? {T1u<nn< her ann.^ aronnd 
 hint. scre((rn.s ((g<(in.) Laura, father, go quick call someone. 
 Laura — Miss Marquis, 
 
 L<n(ra. (E)dering.) I am here. 
 
 Lizzie. He's shot.— He's dying.— Si)eak to him. Oh. if lie 
 sliould die, if he sh(add die. \Fidh gasping into SvoosKits 
 
 "/^/y^s•. LAUKA yif(s (iKlJ-M.I) hjondji.) 
 
— .5<S — 
 
 Gerald There, there, I'm all right, I'm all right. Take 
 care of her, take her into the house. { rising. ) There, there, 
 Lizzie, I'm all right. (He and IjAURA lead her staggering to 
 theporch. Laura and SpjONERtake Lizzie In^ Gerald staggers 
 hack to seat. (Listens.) Someone is coming I must go. 
 i Starts up back, meets Haury who enters.) 
 
 Harry. Halt. 
 
 Gerald. (Drawing swen-d.) Never, I'll not be taken. Tf 
 you value your life keep out of my way. ( Rashes at Harry 
 st'cs ivho It Is and staggers hack.) 
 
 Harrij. Her brother ! 
 
 Gerald. Strickland ! I can't light you. You permitted 
 me to escape once when you had me in yoar power. Do it 
 again, don't try to stop m 3. If you do I'll have to kill you 
 or you me. 
 
 Harr;/. Man are you mad ! You are hurt. Throw down your 
 sword. 
 
 (iendd. Draw yours and defend yourself or else don't try 
 to stop me. I won't be taken prisoner. 
 
 Harrij. Drop your sword. 
 
 (j-erald. Will you le-t me pass? 
 
 Harrij. No ! 
 ' Gerald. Then fight me. I can't murder you. (Harry 
 draws and Laura rushes In between them.) 
 
 Laura, i Seizes Gerai.y>"s hands.) Gerald! 
 
 Gerald. This is the second time, Strickland, a woman has 
 come between your life and me. Bat if you try to stop me, 
 that wont save you this time. 
 
 lAiura. Gerald ! Gerald ! 
 
 Gendd. Then let him stand out of my way. Why should 
 I listen to you ? You betrayed me once for him; you shall 
 not do it again. Unhand me. [Shakes L, aura of and rushes 
 'it Harry. Stops throws hand to his heart and gasps and 
 drops his sword. Staggers. Harry adches him and lead< hint 
 to seat C.) 
 
 Gendd. It's no use, Strickland, I can't light you, I'm hurt. 
 i I'nter Dick.) If you got a surgeon kandy send for him, I'm 
 d(^ne for this time. 
 
 Harrij. (To DicK.) Sergeant send a surgeon, quick. 
 
 Dick. What is it ? 
 
 Harry. Don't stop to ask questions. [Exit Dick, lights 
 I. < iff down.) 
 
 (rcndd. Is it growling dark? 
 
 Laura. (Bending over him. Yes, yes, it is growing dark. 
 (Soljs.) 
 
 (rendd. I thought I might be dying. Forgive me Laura 
 
— o9 _ 
 
 for what I said just now, I never blamed you — It's all i'i;;h1. 
 Han'}/. Let me ^o into the house. (Vi)hi(rkhs sirord hdt 
 1 1)1(1 t(ik-es if o/f". ) 
 
 Gerald. No, it's not worth while. Let her go in, I want 
 to talk with you. Laura see if the surgeon is eoming. 
 (Laura goes to rcai: Shclh ,1ii'('d in the di.^tancr. Lauka 
 stagger)^ hacl\ Gerald loid Harry start; anallicr mid. 
 another.) What's thatV The lighting's on, Striekhmd, 
 we'll whip you yet. [Jumps up and riishrs lonmrds rear. Is 
 caught bjj Harry and Laura aial led hark to dialr. F<dls 
 helplesslij into dudr.) 
 
 Harry, {(roing.) I must go. (^et him into the house. Til 
 send the surgeon. 
 
 Laura^ Gerald come, come, let me help you. 
 
 Gerald. [Attempting to rise.) No, I must g-o too, I'm rv-ant- 
 ed. Do you see and hear? We'll heat them yet. See that, 
 see that, I say we'll heat them. 
 
 Laura. Gerald, Oh, God. 
 
 Gerald. There, little sister, don't go on like that. A mini 
 must die sometime and if I'm done for I don't complain. I 
 only wish I had a hundred lives to give unto the cause. I 
 hoped to do more but that was not to be. 
 
 Laura. Oh, Gerald, I betrayed you. 
 
 Gerald. There, we wont talk of that. I asked too much 
 of you. You had a woman's heart. You loved him. 
 
 Laura. Yes. 
 
 Gerald. I did not know it, but let that pass. Has the tir- 
 ing ceased V 
 
 Laura. Yes, Gerald. (Pale m<tO)dight on center of st<aj('.) 
 
 Gerald. I wish he"d come I want to talk to him. 
 
 Laura. Of what. 
 
 Gerald. No matter now. If brother Ned goes through 
 the war alive, tell him I died fighting. 
 
 Laura. Oh, Gerald, (rerald. 
 
 Gerald. (Bus.)' There. How is little Lizzie? 
 
 Laura. I do not know, I had forgotten her. Her father 
 is with her. 
 
 Gerald. See to her, poor child. She loved me Laura, and 
 I — well — perhaps. — Take care of her. Hush, that's his foot- 
 step. Leave us alone together. 
 
 Harry. [Enters.) Did the surg-eon come? 
 
 Gerald. No, I don't need him, I never did like surgeons. 
 I want to talk with you. What prosjiects for a battle? 
 
 Harry. None to-iiight. The cannonading is only intfiid- 
 ed as afeint. There will be no charge to-nig-ht. 
 
 Josiah. {At door.) Miss Marquis, come— my Lizzie -she 
 
— 6(1 — 
 
 \ 
 
 wont talk — I've tried to make her — she wont speak to me 
 and she looks so white. 
 
 Gerald Laura go to her. My God, it ean't be — No, she's 
 tainted. iSxlt Laura) Strickland, I'm done for, I can't 
 live an hcur. 
 
 Harry. You mnst not say that, you'll pull out of this. 
 
 Gerald No. Give me some brandy. There. What a 
 farce it has been, this war of brothers, but it's near the end. 
 We're whipperl — I know it. And it is due to you. My sis- 
 ter loved you; but for that our plans would have succeeded. 
 
 Harry. No, they could not have succeeded. 
 
 Gerald. But they would. Oh, what a farce — but let the 
 game go on. I've played my cards and lost. My sister lov- 
 ed you — What she did I urged her on to. You're a soldier; 
 you know what war is — what it justifies. (Buin.) She will 
 be left alone. If I could have my way, I would have it other- 
 wise. But you have wrecked her life — her life — my sister's 
 —give me some brandy quick. {.Bu.^.) No, it is too late. 
 Laura — my sister — Lizzie — There. — She loves you, Strick- 
 hmd, loves you — understand? (Jiz^s-.) We'll beat you yet. 
 (IHe.^.) 
 
 Harry. Marquis. My God, it is the end. {Enter Laura.) 
 
 Harry. Lizzie? 
 
 Lenira. Hush, she is dead. 
 
 Harry. Dead?— dead? Look there. 
 
 Laura, (jlpproachefi and hu'iftes Gkba^ld.) Gan you pray? 
 
 Harry. Laura. 
 
 Laura. I have forgotten how. 
 
 Harry. Laura. 
 
 Laura. Oh, Harry, [hi hw arnift.) 
 
 GURTAIN. 
 
 [Tableau.) 
 
l-™ftRY OF CONGRESS 
 
 0017401^28 5%