PS 1039 
 .^244 
 MS 
 Copy 1 
 
 THE 
 
 MYSTERY OF ARDENNES, 
 
 1/6 Mj'Sle7'e cP Ardennes. 
 
 A DRAMA 
 11^ BIYE :/I6TS, 
 
 Authoi' of "-Ranting Moll,'' " Wayaniko, 
 
 ^' Tory Renegade,'' ^^ Courier of the Czar," 
 
 '-''A Crucial Trial," etc. etc. 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S7S, 
 
 by Mark Allen, in the Office of the Librarian of 
 
 Congress at Washington, D. C. All 
 
 rights reserved. 
 
 WOBURN, MASS. 
 
 PRINTED AT THE ADVERTISER OFFICE, 
 1888. 
 
NOTICE. 
 
 ^9C^— 
 
 This edition of "The Mystery of Ardennes" 
 is ])rinted for the private use of the author, 
 and not for general sale. Those who may 
 receive copies of it, either by courtesy or 
 otherwise, are notified that it cannot be per- 
 formed except by permission of the author, it 
 beini^ protected by Copyright, and all rights 
 kesi:rved. Those desiring to purchase a right 
 to play "The Mystery of Ardennes" must 
 address the author, 
 
 MARK ALLEN, 
 
 Woburn, Mass. 
 
 Or his authorized Agent. 
 Woburn, March i, 1888. 
 
THE 
 
 MYSTERY OF ARDENNES, 
 
 Ze Mjslere d^Ardennes, 
 
 A DRAMA 
 11^ FIVE 7I6TS, 
 
 '/ ■ 
 
 Author of ''Ranting Moll,'' " Wayaniko,' 
 ''Tory Renegade,'' " Courier of the Czar," 
 I "'A Crucial Trial," etc. etc. 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1878, 
 by Mark Allen, in the Office of the Libran 
 
 Congress at Washington, D. C.^<»j5aJKl^ , -a-fc'-- ■»»«■** ^>. 1 
 rights reserved. /S>**OOf ^^iO.^f <;^ ^ 
 
 WOBURN, MASS. 
 
 PRINTED AT THE ADVERTISER OFFICE, 
 188& 
 

 DRAMATIS PERSONS. 
 
 CJiaracters represented in First, Second,^ afid Third 
 
 Acts. 
 
 M. Dubois, a wealthy Contractor, Maire of Sf>k'ntliel. 
 M. Jakvais, his Secretary aged 75 years. 
 M. Mesnard, Collector of Taxes, adjoint to the Maire. 
 Dennis O'Grady, in the Service of Dubois. 
 M. Henri de Pierrepont, Successor to Mesnard. 
 M. DuMONT, Landlord of the Soliel d'Or. 
 M. LaRoqj.te, Agent of Police. 
 President of the Court, 
 Marie De Pierrepont, wife of Henri. 
 Madeleine de Pierrepont, age 7 years. 
 Associate Judges, Jurors, Counsellors, Officers of the 
 Court, Gen d'Armes, Waiters, Servants, Villagers. 
 
 Characters represented in Fourth and Fifth Act?. 
 
 M. Gaillard, a wealthy Merchant of Lima, Peru. 
 Arthur de Versan, a young Lawyer, 
 
 M LaRose, I ]vierchants, friends of De Versan. 
 M Clevel, j 
 
 Dennis O'Gkady, the same unfortunate, some fourteen 
 
 years older. 
 
 M. Dumont, Landlord of the Sok'iiel dOr. 
 
 M J.ARVAIS, aged 90 years. 
 
 Francois, valet to M. Gaillard. 
 
 Physician. 
 
 Henri dePeirrepont, a pardoned Convict. 
 
 Marie dePeirrepont, an outcast, Wife- of Henri. 
 
 Madeleine dePeirrei'ont, their daughter, aged 22 yrs. 
 
THE MYSTERY OF ARDENNES. 
 
 ACT FIRST. 
 
 Scene. I. — Bureau of M. Dubois. (The Motive.) 
 An old-fashioned room ivith c. door opening into room 
 beyond. Writing tables R. H. & L. H. Old-fashioned 
 chairs; easy-chair R. C. 
 
 Discove7-ed — M. Dubois seated in easy-chair r. c. 
 Jarvais seated, zvriting, R. H. Dennis 6'Grady, r. 
 of C. D. with feather duster in hand. 
 
 Dubois Well Dennis, have you finished? 
 
 Dennis. Yes your honor; I've dusted all the books 
 and the furnitoor. 
 
 Dub. You niav retire. 
 
 Den. You mane I may lave .-* 
 
 Dub. Yes leave us now. 
 
 Den. That's aisy done your honor. But when will 
 I come back ? 
 
 Dub. When I ring for you. 
 
 Den. You'll ring the little bell there when you 
 want me will you? 
 
 Dub. Yes, yes, begone. \Exit Dennis, c. d. r. 
 That Irishman hat, an honest heart but an excessive 
 command of language; his ready wit and good hu- 
 mor amuses me, yet he carries it to such extremes 
 at times that I become vexed and sometimes, almost 
 lose my te-mper. 
 
 yai'vais. In taking him in and giving him a home 
 and an opportunity to earn a livelihood, you have 
 done a good act and given another evidence of your 
 generous heart, M. Dubois. 
 
 Dub. That will do Jarvais; to business. So M. 
 Mesnard continues his dissolute course of life ? 
 
 yarvais. Yes, M. Dubois he does; such a person 
 is entirely unfitted for, and unworthy the important 
 trusts you have committed to him; his nights are 
 
4 Mtstert of Ardennes. Act. i. 
 
 spent in dissipation and at the gaming table and he 
 squanders large sums in a manner unbecoming your 
 collector. 
 
 Dub. It grieves me good Jarvais to hear such re- 
 ports. I have had my suspicions aroused before 
 this. Mesnard's fortune is ample — still such a 
 course as he is pursuing must eventually lead to 
 ruin and disgrace. 
 
 Jar. You say truly. Monsieur, you who have 
 always been a strict economist, and, though by some 
 called close and penurious, honest and upright in 
 all your dealings, have sufificient knowledge of hu- 
 man nature as well as the proprieties of j^ublic life 
 to realize the fact that with the heavy responsibili- 
 ties resting upon you, you must have those about 
 you whose habits are above suspicion. 
 
 Dub. Jarvais, you are an old and faithful secretary 
 and a true friend. I like your frankess ; you speak 
 your honest thoughts and I like you for it. It is true 
 that those who know me not, regard me as close and 
 miserly; perhaps I give them occasion. Although 
 possessed of wealth I have lived a frugal life ; I have 
 despised extravagance and foolish display, and have 
 not squandered my income in folly and vice. I have 
 been saving, very saving, and have not been the 
 votary of folly and fashion. I have saved that I 
 might do good. I say this to you, Jarvais, because 
 you are my confidante, 1 say it not to every one. I 
 have helped those that have needed help ; vet, I 
 have not allowed a trumpet to be sounded before me 
 but in giving alms have endeavored to carry out the 
 precept, "Let not thy left hand know what thy right 
 hand doeth." 
 
 Jar. Good, M. Dubois, I know you to be gener- 
 ous and kind, and there are many that would have 
 suffered had it not been for your kind offices dis- 
 pensed with secrecy. 
 
 Dub. Say no more Jarvais ; I seek no praise of 
 men. Let my inward consciousness of having done 
 my duty bv my fellow men be my reward here and in 
 the future may I have the satisfaction of learning 
 
Scene i. Mysteky of Aedennes. 6 
 
 tliat I have something credited to my account in the 
 great treasury above. But of Mesnard — 
 
 "Jar. True, your affairs, the rents, the taxes are 
 not safe in his hands; he lacks principle; and in 
 lacking that he lacks everything. It is time there 
 was a change. 
 
 Dnh. Yes, 'tis time there was a change, summon 
 him here at once. I will dismiss him. I will no 
 longer assume such a risk. \Jarvais has risen and 
 about to retire.'] But stay; who can fill his place t 
 
 Jar. Does no one suggest himself? Think! 
 
 Dub. I can think of no one, Jarvais. 
 
 Jar. Then allow me to suggest the name of M. 
 Henri de Pierrepont. He is poor, though descended 
 from a roble family; but above all he is honest and 
 trustworthy. With such a man you could feel secure; 
 believe me you can trust him. 
 
 Dub. Mv faithful Jarvais; why did I not think of 
 him before ? His father was my friend and this 
 Henri I have known from a child. His father was 
 a man after my own heart, Jarvais. He was scrupu- 
 lously honest ; he was a man of temperate and frugal 
 habits; not given to extravagance and show. Such 
 men are rare, and I like them. I have observed this 
 Henri ; and he seems so like his father that I shall 
 not hesitate to offer him the position. He has a 
 wife and one child, I understand; he has also some 
 employment as a collector of rents for a rich relative 
 which, I suspect gives him but slight support. I 
 warrant he does not indulge in many luxuries. What 
 he will receive, added to his present income, will ena- 
 ble him and his familv to live comfortably. See M. 
 de Pierrepont good Jarvais and inform him of iriy 
 wishes. 
 
 Jar. Depend upon me M. Dubois. 
 
 {Exit Jarvais, c. d. l. 
 
 Dub. \Solus.\ I will no longer give countenance 
 to such dissipation and extravagance ; Mesnard needs 
 not the position He has ample means of his own. 
 I will give it to one who will appreciate it, and whom 
 it will benefit. Jarvais is everything to me; eyes, 
 ears, perception too. He relieves me of half my 
 
6 Mystery of Ardennes. Act. i. 
 
 burdens: he has grown gray in my service, and 
 his fidelity shall not be forgotten. I hate extrav- 
 agance ; dissolute habits I despise. The gamester 
 and the libertine are my great abhorence. This 
 Mesnard, in whom I have trusted and confided has 
 become a source of great anxiety to me. Twice I 
 have given him to understand that his course of 
 life is known to me, and have warned him of the 
 result, yet he received it coldly and shows no signs 
 of mending. Here our relations must end. I will 
 have done with him forever. 
 
 {Enter Mesnard, c. d. l. 
 
 Dub. Good day M. Mesnard. 
 
 Mesnard. Your servant, M. Dubois. You have 
 sent for me ; how can I serve you.'* 
 
 Ditb. You look somewhat pale and haggard, M. 
 Mesnard. 
 
 Mes. I suppose it is the effect of too much mental 
 labor; too many business cares M. Dubois. 
 
 D2tb. M. Mesnard, I am a plain, blunt man ; I 
 usually speak my mind, and call things by their right 
 names. Your mental labor is of a kind not likely 
 to improve the mind, or elevate the soul. It par- 
 takes too much of late hours; too much of cards 
 and the dice-box; too much of strong liquors, sir. 
 Y'ou are what the world calls a fast man, vou are on 
 the road to ruin and disgrace ; you are traveling fast; 
 you will reach your destination soon. 
 
 Mes. M. Dubois, this language to me is insulting ; 
 is unexpected, unmerited, uncalled for. You are an 
 old man and your age protects you. I, sir, am a 
 gentleman, and expect to be treated as such. 
 
 Dub. He who claims to be a gentleman, and ex- 
 pects to be treated as such, must conduct himself 
 as such. In my estimation, the life of a gambler, a 
 libertine, and a drunkard, is not compatible with the 
 life and character of a gentleman. 
 
 Mes. [excitedly.'] Have a care M. Dubois, or your 
 gray hairs will not long protect you ; I shall not en- 
 dure this. 
 
 Dub. Be patient with me, M. Mesnard, as this will 
 
Scene I. Mystery of Ardennes. 7 
 
 probably be our last interview. Your way of life is 
 fully known to me, and 1 will no longer appear to 
 give countenance to it. I have repeatedly urged you 
 to pursue a different course and warned you of the 
 consecpiences of your present life. Now I shall have 
 done with you. t can no longer retain your services 
 In dismissing you I do not feel that regret I should 
 were you a ])oor man, or had you a family dependent 
 upon you. You have resources of your own, which, 
 if properly improved will give you a competence ; 
 but they are fast being squandered. Let me intreat 
 you to change your course of life. Be frugal ; be 
 economical ; forsake the ways of depravity and of 
 vice and become indeed a gentleman. 
 
 Mes. M. Le Maire, your advice is uncalled for. 
 You indeed speak the truth when you say that I 
 have othtr resources than the jjosition I have held 
 bv your favor affords me. I am not dejiendcnt u])on 
 M. Edward Dubois, the Maire of Solenthel for either 
 the necessaries or the luxuries of life. My fortune 
 is at present ample, and 1 shall enjoy the world in 
 spite of the sermonizing of M. Le Maire. {turns iip?^ 
 
 Ditb. M. Mesnard mv feelings toward you are 
 those of kindness. I would have been your friend, 
 but you have forfeited my friendship. I wish you 
 well In half an hour Jarvais will be ready to give 
 you the balance due on your account. He is now 
 absent on business which will not detain him long. 
 
 Mes. [ Sarcastically. ] Thank you, M. Dubois. 
 \aside\ I'll be revenged for this. {Exit C. D. L. 
 
 Dub. {Solus.\ Small ho]De of reformation there. 
 Well, I feel a consciousness of having done my 
 duty. The public welfare must be looked to. 
 
 \Riuo;s bell. Enter Dennis c. D. l. 
 
 Dennis. Did you ring your honor ? 
 
 Dub. Yes, I rang. 
 
 Den. And was it me you was wanting ? 
 
 Dub, Yes, I wanted you, or I should not have 
 rang for you. 
 
 Den. Ov coorse you wouldn't, but what will 1 be 
 doin' now } 
 
8 Mystery op Ardennes. Act. i. 
 
 Dtih. Have you heard how the sick man is, at the 
 foot of the hill ? 
 
 Den. Yes, your honor, he's betther nor he was, 
 and he's gettin' betther all the time. The ould wo- 
 man says he'll be out agin in a day or two. 
 
 Dub. They are very poor, are they not .'' 
 
 Den. Tndade they are your honor, and they would 
 have suffered, but some kind soul, heaven save him, 
 has conthrived to supply them with necessaries, and 
 comforts ; but they don't know who it is. 
 
 Dub. Do you know the widow w^ho lives at the 
 corner of the next street } 
 
 Den. Sure an I do, and I think poor creature, she 
 has a hard time of it since she was left a widdy with 
 two little childer. 
 
 Dub. Here, take this letter to her, and mind you 
 don't let her know where it comes from. 
 
 Den. Trust me your honor ; It's Dennis O'Grady 
 that can kape a sacret shure. \iiside\ I wonder what 
 the ould man has been writing to the wnddy about. 
 
 \^Exit c. D. L. 
 
 Dub. The widow will feel happier when she re- 
 ceives what is enclosed in that letter. 
 
 YEntej' a Serva7tt c. L. D. 
 
 Servant M. Henri de Pierrepont. 
 
 Dub. Show him in. 
 
 \Servant shows in DePierre — and retires. 
 
 Dub. Good day M. DePicrrepont. 
 
 DePierre. Good day M. Dubois. I. met M. Jarvais, 
 your Secretary, on the street a short time since, who 
 informed me that you wished to see me on business 
 of importance. I am at your service. 
 
 Dub. Pray be seated, \they sit^ Henri dePierre- 
 pont I never look upon you but I am reminded of 
 your father, my old friend; a man of scrupulous 
 honesty, upright and just. In him you have had a 
 good example, which I have no doubt you have 
 copied to advantage. 
 
 DePierre M. Dubois your remarks concerning my 
 dear departed father are just. His example was a 
 worthy one, and I have endeavored to the best of 
 my ability to follow it. It is my highest ambition 
 
Scene i. My=tery of Ardennes. B 
 
 that iny life may be as pure as his, and that T may 
 ever merit tiiat respect which he commanded here. 
 
 Dub. Vou follow the business of a collector of 
 rents I am told, 
 
 De Pierre- Yes, M, Dubois, I have a wealthy uncle 
 who furnishes me with some employment in that 
 way. 
 
 Dub. Excuse me, M. DePierrepont, if I seem to 
 inquire too closely into your affairs, but I have a great 
 regard for the son oi ait old friend and may be able to 
 do vou a favor. I presume the income you receive as 
 your uncle's collector is not large, and possibly you 
 xvould not object to adding to it in an honest way? 
 
 De Pierre. Good M. Dubois, it is true that my in- 
 come is not large, and does not afford as many com- 
 forts to my little family as we might desire, yet it is 
 sure and we are economical. I should not refuse an 
 additional source of income if an honest one, you 
 mav depend. 
 
 Dub. I thought you would not. I have latelv had 
 some trouble with my collector, M. Mesnard, and 
 have dismissed him. He was not the man for the 
 place; his habits were not such as would command 
 confidence. I have sent for you to offer you the 
 position which is now vacant. Will you accept it .^ 
 
 DePierre. This is a great and unexpected favor 
 you show me, M. Dubois ; I should be very foolish 
 to refuse it. I will do my best to serve you, and to 
 give you confidence in my integrity. 
 
 Dub. \rising.\ M. DePierrepont, you may consider 
 that you do me a great favor, and relieve me of a load 
 of anxiety, for I feel that I can trust you. Call here 
 to-morrow and Jarvais will instruct you in the details 
 of your position, and you may at once enter upon 
 your duties. 
 
 DePierre. Thank you, M. Dubois; I will attend 
 upon him. Good day. \^Exit DePierre, c. d. l. 
 
 Dub. That business is settled to my mind. That 
 Pierrepont is an honest fellow; he carries it in his 
 countenance. He knows the need of prudence and 
 economy. This good fortune will give new joy to his 
 
10 Mystery of Ardennes. Act i. 
 
 wife and child, Tiiere is nothing that delights nie so 
 much as to make worthy people happy. 
 
 [Exit DUHOIS, R. H, 1st K. 
 {Enter Jarvais, c. d. i,. 
 
 yar. Well, M. Dubois has rid hun-elt' of a serpent 
 in Mesnard. He is a most villainous fellow; there is 
 murder in his eye. I wouldn't trust him with rents or 
 taxes, not I. But the good old Maire is so unsus- 
 pecting. He is not at all like me. I can see clear 
 through a man. I can tell a rascal when I meet him. 
 He has made a good exchange. Henri DcPierre 
 pont is a noble fellow and will honor the p'osition. 
 Mesnard is a rascal ; he carries it in his face. They 
 say the devil is always near when you are talking 
 about him, and here he comes. 
 
 [Enter Mesnard, c. n. l. 
 
 ■Mes. [coldly.l Good day, M. Jarvais. 
 
 Jar. Your servant, M. Mesnard. 
 
 Mes. I was directed by M, Dubois to meet you 
 here to receive a small balance due me for past ser- 
 vices. I presume you have been informed of it .^ 
 
 yar. I understand. I have it here. [ Takes a pad- 
 age of notes from hii pocket-book and gives Mi:sNARD.] 
 You will find it all right I think. 
 
 Mes. [Examines notes.] Correct. [Sneering/jy.] So 
 your frugal and economical master thinks me too 
 fast a man for the position I have held ? 
 
 yar. And has dismissed you — well ? 
 
 Mes. Yes, he has dismissed me. But where does 
 he expect to find a better man ; one that shall be his 
 ideal of purity and virtue ? 
 
 yar. He has already found one, who no doubt will 
 answer his expectations. 
 
 Mes. Indeed; may I inquire his name ? 
 
 yar. Henri DePierrepont. [Turns 7ep stage.] 
 
 Mes. DePierrepont, a paragon of virtue truly. 
 [aside.] This is not the first time he has crossed my 
 path. No matter. I blame him not for this. But old 
 Dubois, the miserly economist, who has taken this 
 means to humiliate and disgrace me shall yet feel the 
 power of my hate. He has roused a devil in my 
 
Scene 2. Mystery of Ardennes. 11 
 
 breast that calls out fcr revenge. Yes, M. Dubois, 
 the tiiDC will come, I will be even with you yet. 
 
 [ Turns h/>.] 
 Closed in in one. 
 
 SCENE 2. — A VILLAGE STREET IN ONE. 
 
 [Enter DENNIS O'Grady, L. H. tvith letter. 
 
 Den. That master of mine is a queer old chap. 
 He's always sending me round on all sorts of errands 
 and telling me not to say anything about it. He has 
 been a good master to me sure, ever since I turned 
 up in this outlandish country. It was a poor boy I 
 was, and nothing better than a tramp when I left 
 ould Ireland and went to say. And after driftin' 
 about in forrin countries I was ship-racked and cast 
 away on the coast of France, and I didn't know 
 where I was at all, at all. I wandered about widout 
 a penny in my purse, and I wondered what ould Biddy 
 O'Gradv would say to know the sorry spalpeen, her 
 jKjor fatherless boy had become, when I fell in with 
 ould Mister Dubois and he took me in and became a 
 father to me, and put me in his sarvice, and its a 
 happy lad I've been ever since. Och ! there comes 
 Mister Maynard looking as sour as a vinegar barrel. 
 He's got something on his stomach that doesn't set 
 good. I wouldn't wonder if the ould masther has 
 been giving him his ticket of lave. 
 
 [Enter Mesnard r. h. 
 
 Mes. [excitedly.] Curses on him, the tight-fisted old 
 miser. 
 
 Den. Maning who an' you plase Mister Maynard ? 
 
 Mes. Not you, you meddlesome Irishman. 
 
 De>i. And it isn't me you mane, and it's well for 
 the loikes of ye that it isn't. I'm a meddlesome 
 Irishman am I ? Well, if I be, I'll tell you some- 
 thing I heard a man say in a play onct. '"Curses 
 are like young turkey gobblers,and they'll always come 
 home to roost." Take care they don't roost on you> 
 Mister Maynard. 
 
 Mes. Fool ! who asked vour advice. 
 
12' Mystery of Ardeknejs. Aet ?, 
 
 Den. It's good to take a fcjol's advice sometimes. 
 Mister Maynard.- 
 
 Mes. I would be alone. 
 
 Den. Well who's hindering ov ye ? The strate is 
 wide enough, and I didn't ax for your company. 
 
 Mes. Idiot I Vagabond I 
 
 \Exit Mesnard, l. h. 
 
 Den. Good day, Mister Maynard and take care the 
 curse don't choke you ', bad luck to you for a black- 
 guard that you are. And sure it's a idiot, and a vaga- 
 bond I am to be wasting my time talking to the likes of 
 ye, when I should be carrying the masther's letter, 
 I wonder what ould masther has been writing to the 
 widdy. 
 
 [£'.r// Dennis, R, H. 
 
 Scene IIL — Circumstances. Scene. — A neatly 
 fnrnished old fashioned room in M, Hen?-i DePierrc- 
 ponfs cottage. Old fashioned fire place C i)i flat. 
 Practical door in F. L. H. Latticed window in fiat. 
 R. H. Table set for supper. R, C. Four high backed 
 chairs Lozv stool on, Old fashioned sofa. L. H. 
 
 A LAPSE OF TWO YEARS. 
 
 Discovered—hlKYA^ DePierrepont seated R of 
 fireplace. M.kv>^\.ya^y., aged seven years, on loiu stool 
 beside her. 
 
 Marie. Well, my darling, everything is ready for 
 supper and your father will soon be here. So you 
 have had a pleasant time, and enjoyed yourself with 
 your playmates to-day t 
 
 Madeleine. Yes, mamma, we did have a real nice 
 time. 
 
 Mar. Well I know^ you are tired my little one, 
 but you will sleep all the better for it. 
 
 Alad. I want to ask you a question mother, about 
 something that happened to-day. 
 
 Mar. \Vhat is it, darling.'' 
 
 Mad. Mother, what is a miser ? 
 
 Mar. Why, my child, what put it into your head 
 to ask such a question as that } 
 
 Mad. When I was playing on the street this after- 
 
Fopiic 3 My-ti:ry (<f Ardennes. 13 
 
 nooM with the other little girls, M. Dubois came along 
 and they said he was an old miser, and all seemed to 
 be frightened and ran awav. 
 
 .]/<?;-. Did you run, too? 
 
 Jlu/. No, mother, he looked so pleasant and so 
 good that [ wasn't afraid, and he came up and spoke 
 to me, and called me a good little girl. He said he 
 knew my father, and that he would make me a hand- 
 some present when Christmas comes. 
 
 A/ar. You was a good little girl not to be rude 
 and show disrespect to M. Dubois, as the other little 
 girls did. You must always respect him, for he is a 
 gt)od man, and has done a great deal for us. 
 
 .]/,/(/ I thought a miser was something bad, be- 
 cause the other girls seemed so frightened. I don't 
 believe M. Dubois is a miser, do you mother. 
 
 A/ar. A miser my dear, is one who loves money 
 and hoards it up and worships it. One who not only 
 neglects to help those that are in need, but deprives 
 himself of the comforts of life, that he may increase 
 his wealth. M. Dubois is a prudent and economical 
 man, and although quite rich, he deprives himself of 
 many luxuries and lives in a very plain manner. He 
 is not ])roud, like some rich men, and he does a great 
 deal of good to those who are in need, but he is so 
 odd and peculiar in his way, that those who are as- 
 sisted by him seldom know who their benefactor is. 
 M. Dubois is not a miser, my dear, but many think 
 him one. 
 
 Mad. I have heard father say that M. Dubois has 
 been very good to him. 
 
 Afa?'. Yes my dear, two years ago he gave him a 
 position as collector, and since that time we have 
 had manv comforts which we could not have before. 
 And M. Dubois has promised to do much better by 
 him soon, as he has formed a strong attachment for 
 him because your grandfather and M. Dubois were 
 great friends. 
 
 [Henri/^/jj-^'J" iviudozv in F. 
 
 Mad. Oh ! here comes father. [Jumps tip and 
 
14 Mystery of if^RDENNEs Act j. 
 
 nn/s to the door to meet him.] Oh ! my good father. 
 [Enter Henri DePierrepont, d. f. 
 
 DePierre. What my little one, glad your father 
 has come? You have been a good little girl to-day, I 
 know you have. And you, Marie, my love, God 
 bless you. [kisses her.] How pleasant it is after 
 the cares and perplexities of the day, to come to such 
 a happy home, and be greeted by the happy faces 
 of you, my wife and daughter. This is indeed a 
 happy home, and you are my household treasures. 
 Thanks to good M. Dubois for the many comforts 
 we have been enabled to add to it. May it be ever 
 thus and may the precious peace and love which now 
 reign here, continue unbroken for many, very many 
 happy years to come. 
 
 Mar. Amen. Heaven grant it. But come Henri, 
 onr supper waits. 
 
 DePierre. Yes, that must be attended to. 
 
 [ They seat themselves at table. 
 
 DePierre. [71? Madeline.] Well, my darling what 
 have you found to amuse vou to-day ? 
 
 Mad. Oh ! I have had nice times. 
 
 Mar. Madeleine has been playing with some of 
 the little girls to-day, and they have told her some 
 queer things about M. Dubois. 
 
 Mad. Yes, papa, they told me M. Dubois was a 
 miser. 
 
 DePierre. [7<; Marie.] And you have taught her 
 better, my love ? 
 
 Mar. Indeed, I have Henri. 
 
 DePierre. I thought so once, myself ; but did the 
 people of our village know the good old man as I 
 do, they would have a very different opinion of him 
 from that generally expressed. 
 
 Mar. But Henri it is so good to have you with us. 
 I feel such relief after your long journeys, and do 
 you think it, many times I have fears for your safety, 
 
 DePierre. Why so, my love .'' What is there to 
 fear? 
 
 Mar. You know that your business as collector 
 often compels you to have large amounts of money 
 
Scene :^ Mystkry op Ardennes. lo 
 
 in your possession, which is liable to excite the cu- 
 piditv ot' others. Vou might be waylaid, rolibed antl 
 murdered for vour money. 
 
 DcPicrrc. There is no i;;round for such fears, mv 
 love. 
 
 Mar. And do you know that I have sometimes 
 thought of Mesnard, the profligate and unprincipled 
 person who was dismissed by M. Dubois and whose 
 place you now hold; that he might seek to be re- 
 venged on you. I have heard that he is a most desper- 
 ately wicked character, and would not scruple to take 
 the life of any one that had crossed him. 
 
 /h'J^ii-rre. Marie, my love dismiss such phantoms, 
 let them not ])rey upon your mind and rob you of the 
 happiness vou can enjoy. There is indeed no call 
 for fear; ours is a peaceful and cpiiet neighborhood 
 I'he whole country around us is filled with honest 
 and industrious peo])le, who would scorn to covet 
 what is not their own. Their honor is my safeguard. 
 
 Mil)-. True ; but Mesnard. 
 
 DePierre. He went to Paris two vears ago, where » 
 I hear, he is spending his life and fortune in dissipa^ 
 tion. Depend upon it, our quiet village has no at- 
 tractions for such as he; and as for revenge, he can 
 have no cause for seeking it of me. 
 
 Mar. Well, no doubt such fears are groundless, 
 but sometimes they will force themselves upon me, 
 strive as I will to shake them off. 
 
 Madeleine during the foregoing dialogue has fallen 
 asleep. Marie places her upon sofa L. H. A knock D. v. 
 
 DePierre. Come in. {Enter Dubois d. f. 
 
 DePierre. What! M. Dubois.^ Why, you are in- 
 deed welcome. Sit you down. {They sit^ It is 
 seldom you honor our humble home with your pres- 
 ence. 
 
 Dub. It is not my nature, M. Henri DePierrepont 
 to make many visits except upon matters of business 
 I am somewhat peculiar; odd you may say; some 
 even call me worse than that. But some know me 
 better, Eh? What say you DePierrepont.'' 
 
16 Mystery of Ardennes. Act i. 
 
 DePierre. It is true they do ; that I can vouch for 
 M. Dubois. 
 
 Diih. A matter of business brings me here to- 
 night, something in which you can be of great service 
 to me. 
 
 DePierre. Say you so, Monsieur ! You may al- 
 ways command my services. 
 
 bub. You are aware DePierrepont, that I am a 
 large contractor; I am at the present engaged in t! e 
 construction of public works. I am also building a 
 church and a schoolhouse. 
 
 DePierre. I am aware of this, M. Dubois. 
 
 Dub. I have a large number of men in my employ, 
 and am frequently in receipt of money with which to 
 pay them. I have just received notice that a remit- 
 tance of seventeen thousand francs awaits me at Ba- 
 zeilles. It is not far, and to-morrow afternoon I pro- 
 pose to walk over and receive it. I would like your 
 company. I always prefer walking to riding when 
 the distance is not great; besides it is a healthful ex- 
 ercise you know; and as most of the money will be 
 in notes, it will not be weighty, consequently no 
 impediment to our journeying on foot. 
 
 DePierre. I will accompany you with pleasure, M. 
 Dubois. 
 
 Dub. On our return I propose to stop at the Soliel 
 d'Or for rest and supper. I shall be liberal, believe 
 me. 
 
 Mar. But M. Dubois would it not be more safe for 
 you to take a carriage while traveling with so much 
 money. 
 
 DePierre. My wife is worrying herself about rob- 
 bers ; like all good women, anxious for her husband's 
 safety. 
 
 Mar. I think it is best always to be on the safe 
 side if we can. 
 
 Dub. Why my good woman what have we to fear } 
 "With a kind Providence above us, and M. DePierre- 
 pont here, by my side, we shall be as safe as here in 
 your own cottage. The distance is not great, the 
 country through which we must pass is thickly in- 
 
Scene i Mystery of Aedennes. 17 
 
 habited by an honest and industrious peasantry, and we 
 shall travel it by daylight ; so give yourself no un- 
 easiness or anxiety; your husband will return all safe, 
 and we shall enjoy many happy years together yet. 
 The matter is all settled, so good night. Kiss the 
 little girl for me, and tell her that I shall remember 
 her when Christmas comes. [Goes tozoard door in F.] 
 ■ DePierre and Marie. Goodnight. 
 Picture. 
 
 END OF ACT FIRST. 
 
 ACT SECOND. 
 
 Scene I. — A room in the Soliel d^Or. Door in F. 
 practical R. H. above 1st grooves. Table and two 
 chairs L. H. above zd grooves, set for supper; all old 
 fashioned. Candles lighted on tables. 
 
 Discovered. — Mesnard disguised, seated at R, H. 
 table. 
 
 Ales. Two years have passed since I left Solenthel 
 disgraced and humiliated by the miserly old Dubois, 
 who hates a little enjoyment and harmless dissipa- 
 tion because it costs money, which he loves better 
 than he loves the comforts and pleasures of life. I 
 feel sure no one will recognize me in this disguise. 
 I do not wish particularly to be known, as my busi- 
 ness is not of a character to bear close investigation. 
 I am not so well to do as I was two years ago. A 
 gay life in Paris has made heavy inroads upon my 
 fortune. I must find means to replenish my losses. 
 Perhaps an opportunity may offer to draw upon 
 old Dubois. I should not hesitate should such op- 
 portunity present itself. I am sufficiently desperate, 
 I owe him an eternal hatred, and will yet be re- 
 venged for his insults. Here ! Landlord. {Rings 
 bell.] 
 
 {Enter DuMONT, L. H. 
 
 Duniont. Your servant, Monsieur. 
 
 Mes. Are you the landlord of this hotel ? 
 
 Duni. Yes, may it please you Monsieur. How can 
 I serve you ? 
 
18 Mystery of Ardennes. Act ii. 
 
 Mes. Can you give me a supper ? 
 
 Duni. Yes, Monseiur at once. V/hat shall it be ? 
 
 Mes. You look like a man of taste. I will leave 
 it to your judgment. 
 
 Dimi. Thank you, Monsieur. I think I can suit 
 you. 
 
 Mes. Bring it here, upon this table. 
 
 Dum. Yes, Monsieur. ]^Exit DuMONT, L. H. • 
 
 Ales. Evidently this fellow does not recognize ine, 
 nor suspect who I am. I will draw him into conver- 
 sation. I may obtain some information of value. 
 
 Re-enter Dumont, preceded by a waiter with supper 
 on a t7-ay, xvhich he arranges on table before Mesnard 
 afid retires. Dumont is about to follozv. 
 
 Mes, Stay Landlord, don't be in such a hurry to 
 leave. 
 
 Dnm. No hurry Monsieur, only I thought you 
 would prefer to eat alone. 
 
 Mes. Not I Landlord; a little social chat with 
 your food sometimes helps digestion. 
 
 Dmn. I have heard so. 
 
 Mes. Yes. Come sit down. \Diimont sits c] You 
 have a retired place here. 
 
 Dum. Quite so, Monseiur. 
 
 Mes. I should judge you were expecting travelers 
 to-night .'' 
 
 Dinn. Oh, Monsieur ; we are always expecting 
 them ; that is our business. 
 
 Mes. I see you have a table prepared for supper 
 yonder, which would indicate that you are expecting 
 some particular ones. 
 
 Dum. Oh, Yes, Monsieur ; I am preparing supper 
 for two gentlemen who were to have been here long 
 before this on their way to Solenthel. 
 
 Mes. I presume you are not troubled much with 
 travelers in this retired place ? 
 
 Dum. Not so much as I might wish, but notwith- 
 standing I am fairly patronized. M. Dubois employs 
 a large number of men at the village, and many of 
 them visit us. They pay pretty well, and are quiet 
 and orderly. 
 
Scene 1. Mystery of Ardennes. 19 
 
 Mes. No doubt. Who is this M. Dubois of whom 
 you speak ? His name sounds familiar to me. 
 
 Dum. You are a stranger in these parts it would 
 seem ? 
 
 Mes. Me — ye — yes, I am from Paris, traveling for 
 my health and to see the country. But M. Dubois } 
 
 Dum. M. Dubois is the Maire of Solenthel. He 
 is a rich proprietor and contractor ; rather a strange 
 character. Some call him a miser , he may be for 
 all I know to the contrary; but he never passes this 
 place without stopping, and patronizing us liberally. 
 
 Mes, I have heard of him, he handles large sums 
 of money and receives large amounts from Paris and 
 elsewhere, I believe .'' 
 
 Diim. And one thing is very remarkable about 
 him. He never uses his carriage when he can per- 
 form the journey on foot. We are expecting him 
 here to-night. It is something unusual for him to 
 be so late ; he is always very prompt in everything. 
 Something must have happened to detain him so 
 long beyond the time of his appointment. 
 
 Mes..h.x\A who is his companion ? 
 
 Dum. M. Henri DePierrepont, his collector ; a 
 man in whom he has great confidence. 
 
 Mes. Henri DePierrepont ; indeed? I have heard 
 of him likewise. 
 
 Dum. \risi}ig.'\ Have you .'' Well I think I hear 
 travelers without and I must go and look to the 
 supper. \ixsidc.\ Zounds, I don't half like the looks 
 of that fellow. He seems to have heard of every- 
 body. I wonder if he ever heard of me before ? 
 He's got a sort of a corkscrew twist to his eye that I 
 don't like. PU tell the butler to look after the 
 spoons. \Exit DUMONT, L. H. 
 
 Mes. So old Dubois is expected here to-night } 
 This is indeed fortunate. Heaven truly favors me, 
 and throws him in my way. To-night I may have an 
 opportunity to wipe out some old scores, M. Dubois. 
 
 {Enter M. Dubois, with bag of silver, and Henri 
 DePierrepont d. f. Dumont enters from l. h. 
 and goes up to meet Dubois. 
 
20 Mystery of Ardennes. Act ii. 
 
 Diini. Welcome, Welcome, M. Dubois; we have 
 waited a long time for you. What detained you } 
 
 Dub. We have had a heavier load than we bar- 
 gained for; this bag of silver is load enough for a 
 horse. What say you, Henri ? 
 
 {Alesjiard listens attentively. 
 
 DePierre. It is something of a burden truly; but 
 there are many that would gladly relieve you of it, 
 M. Dubois. 
 
 Mes. {aside.^ A bag of silver. More good fortune 
 I must contrive to relieve the old man of his burden 
 before he travels much farther. 
 
 Diib. Besides our burden there was some trouble 
 at the ferry that detained us, and with the detention 
 and the burden I am as hungry as a bear, and shall 
 do ample justice to your supper, landlord. Let us 
 have it at once. 
 
 Dnm. It shall be here instantly; seat yourselves 
 at the table which has been prepared for you. 
 
 [Dubois and DePierrepont seat themselves at ta- 
 ble, L. H. 
 
 Ditb. And landlord bring me a bottle of Madeira. 
 \^Exit Dumont, l. h. 
 
 Dub. It is seldom I drink anything, but after the 
 fatigue of the day, I must be a little liberal. What 
 say you, Henri ? 
 
 DePierre. Please yourself, M. Dubois ; but you 
 must be discreet. You know you dislike dissipation. 
 
 Djib. But there are times (they seldom come with 
 me however) when a little stimulant may be beneficial. 
 
 Mes. {aside.'X The old hypocrite. But no matter 
 if both of them should get drunk, it would simplify 
 my work amazingly. 
 
 During the foregoing dialogue the waiters have 
 brought in the supper and zvi?ie and placed them on 
 the table where Dubois and DePierrpont are seated. 
 
 DePierre. \_Finding no knife calls.'\^2S.\.tx\ Oh, he 
 has gone ; he has forgotten to lay me a knife ; but 
 here are two forks instead. No matter, I won't call 
 him back. I have a good knife of my own which 
 
Scene i. Mystery of Ardennes. 21 
 
 will answer every purpose {^Takes a clasp knife from 
 his pocket opens and uses it.] 
 
 Ditb. You see Henri, I promised you a good sup- 
 per to-night, and mine host of the Soliel d'Or has 
 done justice to my orders. Now lay to and do jus- 
 tice to what has been provided. I know you must 
 have an appetite after our journey. 
 
 DePierre. My appetite is good, M. Dubois, de- 
 pend upon it. I will do my share in disposing of 
 mine hosts' provisions. 
 
 Dub. [drinks 7ai/ie.] This Madeira is remarkably 
 fine ; try some. 
 
 DePiei-re. No thank you ; I am unused to it, and 
 to-night I feel a greater responsibility than usual 
 resting upon me, and will not indulge. 
 
 Dnb. Well, do as you please ; it is very fine. 
 
 {drinks. 
 
 DePierre. \(.isidei\ M. Dubois is unused to wine, 
 and I am fearful he may be overcome after the great 
 fatigue of the afternoon. I shall need to keep my 
 wits about me. I don't half like the looks of that 
 stranger ; he has watched us with unusual interest, 
 yet he may be honest for all that. 
 
 Diib. Why Henri, my boy, you do not eat 1 cer- 
 tainly your appetite cannot have left you suddenly. 
 
 DePierre. I was thinking. 
 
 Dub. Of what? Nothing serious, surely. I hope 
 you have no trouble on your mind. 
 
 DePierre. {hesitatingly.'] I was thinking that as 
 we have got some distance to travel — 
 
 Diib. Oh, I understand you are afraid I shall drink 
 too much wine — never fear — never fear — I shall be 
 all right. But come let us finish our supper. 
 
 DePierre. Oh, I am not much given to fear ; and 
 at present we are in safe quarters. 
 
 Diib. You're right Henri, my boy. They say I'm 
 an old miser, I don't look much like one now. Eh 
 DePierrepont ? 
 
 DePierre. No, no, my dear M. Dubois, but I am 
 afraid the the wine is too much for you ; and I think 
 with the large amount of money you have with you, 
 
22 Mystery of Akdennes. Act ii. 
 
 it would be safer to hire a carriage for the remain- 
 der of our journey. 
 
 Dub. {slightly affected.'\ Nonsense Henri ; no fear 
 about the money. Nobody about here wants my 
 money. Don't be afraid Henri, don't be afraid my 
 boy. 
 
 DePierre. [ast'c/e.] Heavens the wine affects him 
 more than I had suspected. The stranger overhears 
 him and appears to be deeply interested. Should he 
 be. No, no, he is doubtless an honest traveler. 
 
 Dud. Hire a carriage, Henri ! Oh, no, that would 
 never do ; we can manage well enough. The car- 
 riage would be a needless expense. I should be 
 laughed at in Solenthel. They would say the strict 
 sober old Maire had broken down and had to be 
 brought home drunk. No, no, that would never do ; 
 no, no; we'll go back as we came. Here, landlord ! 
 [£7iler DuMONT, L. h. 
 
 Dud. Your bill, landlord. 
 
 Dum. {presenting bill.) Here it is Monsieur. 
 
 Dtib. [examines bill.) All right. Landlord, {hands 
 money to Dumont.) I see you have been quite liberal 
 in your charges. Come, Henri, we must be gone. 
 [rising.] 
 
 Dmn. But you don't think of leaving at this late 
 hour, jj^l. Dubois .'' 
 
 Dub. Why not. Landlord } 
 
 Dum. {cautiously.) You know, Monsieur, that you 
 have a large amount of money with you, and you are 
 fully two miles from home. 
 
 Dub. Well, what of that 1 The people about here 
 are honest ; we have no burglars nor highwaymen 
 lurking about. What have we to be afraid of .'' De- 
 Pierrepont is strong and able; he is a match for any 
 single man that might attack us; and as for me, old 
 as I am, I'm no baby. We will go. Come, DePier- 
 repont. 
 
 DePierre. But had you not better take a gig ? 
 
 Dub. Nonsense, Henri ; let us begone. It is true 
 the wine did begin to have some effect upon me, but 
 I had sense enough to stop. It has all gone now. 
 
Scene 2 Mystery of Ardennes. 23 
 
 I am all right. The fresh air will drive away all bad 
 effects. Come, let us go. Good night, Landlord. 
 {Exit Dubois, DePierepont and Dumont d. e. 
 
 Mes. [risittg.) They have gone and I will follow 
 shortly. {discovers DePierreponi^s kjtife which he 
 has left on table inhere he and Dubois had bee?t eating. 
 Ho ! What's this ? DePierrepont's knife, and on it 
 his initials; another lucky circumstance. I will ap- 
 propriate it. The Landlord will never miss it, and 
 as for DePierrepont his mind will be too much occu- 
 pied to-night to think of it again. I dare not attack 
 the two. DePierrepont is more than a match for 
 me ; but I will shadow them until they separate, and 
 then for my revenge. I will settle with the Land- 
 lord and then cjuietly depart. This is a lucky cir- 
 cumstance. 
 
 closed in one, 
 
 SCENE SECOND. 
 
 the opportiinity. 
 
 Scene. — On right half flat, Cottage with practical 
 door. On left half village street. Night. Lights 
 dozvn. Dark stage. 
 
 The exterior of DePierrepont's Cottage. '■'The 
 Opportnnity.^'' Music Fizz. Enter Mesnard, can- 
 tio7isly r. H. 
 
 Mes. This is DePierrepont's cottage. They will 
 pass this way. Perhaps they wilj separate. I will 
 conceal mvself and watch my opportunity. 
 
 Music Pizz. Mesnard rtVm'j- L. h. 'When he is 
 off enter Dubois, carrying bag of silver and De- 
 Pierrepont R. H. 
 
 DePierrc. Well, M. Dubois, you have carried that 
 bag far enough; let me relieve you awhile. 
 
 Dtcb. Yes, you may relieve me now, for here is 
 your home. You shall take the bag in and keep it 
 until morning. I will go the rest of the way alone. 
 Gives bag to 'DePierrepont. 
 
 [Enter Marie from door in Cottage. 
 
 Marie. {Goes to DePierre.) I heard your voices, 
 So you have returned all safe ? It is very late ; yet it 
 is such a relief to my mind to see you safe again. I 
 
24 Mystery of Ardennes. Act ii. 
 
 have been very anxious about you to-night, Henri. 
 
 De Pierre. And Madeline ! 
 
 Marie. She is asleep, poor child. 
 
 DePierre, Well, yon see we are safe, Marie ; and 
 now I will accompany M. Dubois to the top of 
 the hill and return immediately. 
 
 D7ib. Nay, DePierrepont ; I can go the rest of the 
 way alone : it is only a short distance, so you keep 
 the bag till morning, and 1*11 send a cart around for 
 it. \Laitghs. 
 
 DePierre. But M. Dubois. 
 
 Dub. Nay; Henri; I will not hear of it ; I insist; 
 so go you in with your good wife, and leave me to go 
 alone. 
 
 Marie, But M. Dubois, will you not come in and 
 rest awhile ? 
 
 Dub. No, my good Madame DePierrepont, I do 
 not need it, besides it is late, and I will go on at once 
 So good night and God bless you. \Exit Dubois, 
 L. H. 1st entrance. 
 
 Depierre and Marie: Good Night. 
 
 Marie. There goes a good old man. 
 
 DePierre. Yes, you say true. Heaven bless him. 
 
 Marie. But what de^tained you so late, Henri ? 
 
 DePierre. Come in and I will tell you all. I am 
 sorry I allowed him to go alone. Well it must be so. 
 Come in, the night is chilly, and you'll take cold 
 standing there. [Exit into cottage. 
 
 [Music Pizz. Re-enter Mesnard cautiously L. H. 
 
 Ales. It is as I had wished. Old Dubois goes 
 alone and goes to certain death. The opportunity 
 has come and Heaven itself throws him within ray 
 power. Now, M. Dubois, the hour for my revenge 
 has come. 
 
 {vinsic. exit L. H. 1st entrance?^ 
 Scene III. (the crime.) — Opeji landscape near 
 the 7'esidence of lyvBOlS. Night, La?nps down. Dark 
 Stage. Enter Dubois, l. h. ist e^ztrajice. 
 
Scene 3. Mystebt of Ardennes. 25 
 
 Dub. Well, I am almost home ; my weary journey 
 is well nigh over. Soon I can rest. Yet I regret 
 exceedingly that I did not allow UePierrepont to ac- 
 company me. 1 have a strange feeling coming over 
 me; an unaccountable sense of dread and danger. I 
 am unused to such feelings, and why they should 
 overpower me now I know not. It is nothing — what 
 should I fear.' There is a kind Providence over me 
 that has hitherto protected me from all harm. In a 
 moment more 1 shall be home again. {Turns tip 
 stage.) Ahinc. Mesnard enters L. H. steals ttpon 
 Dubois suddenly and stabs him in the neck with De- 
 Pierrei'(JNt's knife. 
 
 Dub. Help! Murder! [falls.) 
 
 Mes. Behold! Mesnard; him whom you insulted 
 and humiliated. He now has his revenge ! 
 
 Dub. {faintly.) Oh villain — may heaven — I die. 
 
 YDies. 
 
 Music. Agitato pp. Mesnard robs Dubois of his 
 inoucy, %vatch and rings. 
 
 Music. Agitato p. Distant noise of voices with- 
 out L. E. U. 
 
 Mes. Ha! the old man's call for help has alarmed 
 the neighborhood. This knife will throw the pursu- 
 ers off the scent and fix suspicion on DePierrepont. 
 [//f lays knife beside the body.'\ I must be gone at 
 once. With the proceeds of this night's work I can 
 retrieve my fortune. And now farewell to Solenthel. 
 Farewell to France forever. \^Exit hastily r. h. 
 Music Agitato Forte. 
 
 Pinter ]ar\'A\S and villagers L. H. U. E. with lights. 
 Lights Up. 
 
 far. I heard a cry for help. What could it mean .'' 
 M. Dubois has not yet returned. {Discovers body.l 
 Ah! What is here .'^ A bleeding body — What? M. 
 Dubois, and dead ! 
 
 Oinnes. M. Dubois ! Murdered ! 
 
 {All gather around the body. 
 
 Jar. Yes, murdered for his money. \Sees knife 
 7vhich he picks up.'\ Here is a bloody knife. Pie has 
 
26 Mystery of Ardennes. Act tii. 
 
 been murdered and robbed. Alas, mv good old mas- 
 ter; who could have done this deed? 
 PICTURE. 
 Plaintive ?niisic till drop is dozvn. 
 END OF ACT SECOND. 
 
 ACT THIRD. 
 
 Scene I. — The Accusation. Interior of De Pierre' 
 ponfs Cottage, same as Scene III Act i. DePierrepont^ 
 Marie and Madeleine discovered. Bag of silver o?i. 
 
 Marie. Your journey yesterday Henri, was a weary 
 one. 
 
 Henri. It was indeed ; that l)ag of silver was a 
 heavy load to carry such a distance. 
 
 Marie. And you will rest to-day, will you not ? 
 
 Henri. I have nothing to call me away, and I think 
 I will remain at home, and for one day enjoy the so- 
 ciety of my good wife and my darling Madeleine. 
 
 Mad. Oh, Father, I am so glad you are going to 
 stop at home. 
 
 Henri. So youilove to have your father stop at 
 home, do you, mv little one t 
 
 Mad. Indeed I do, my good father. 
 
 Henri. Well there's a kiss, my darling \Jcisses her] 
 but I can't be always with you. 
 
 Marie. And I am glad likewise, Henri ; it is so 
 seldom we have you with us during the day ; it will 
 be indeed a great pleasure. 
 
 De Pierre. No less to me my darling. 
 
 Marie. Does it not seem strange that one so well 
 able to ride as M. Dubois, should travel so much and 
 so far on foot .^ 
 
 DePierre. It is his peculiarity, his oddity I might 
 say; and I am fearful that it may some day cause him 
 serious trouble. I trembled for him last night when 
 he persisted in coming on foot at so late an hour, 
 after having taken more wine than is usual for him; 
 and it had seemed to affect his judgment slightly. 
 
 Ma7'ie. M. Dubois seldom drinks wine I believe.? 
 
Scene 1. Mysteby of Ardennes. 27 
 
 DcFierre. Seldom. He is ver\' temperate in his 
 habits and although he is an old man, his health is 
 remarkably good and his constitution unimpaired. I 
 like his ideas of 1en)perance and frugality. 
 
 Marie. 1 have heard that it was on account of his 
 intemperate habits, he dismissed the former collector 
 M. Mesnard. 
 
 DcPienc. That is true. M. Dubois is a kind 
 hearted man, and is good to those of whom he has 
 reason to think well. We must overlook his oddi- 
 ties. 
 
 Marie. Most assuredly we must. 
 
 DePiei-re. A walk of ten miles now and then, to 
 please him, will not do much harm. It is singular he 
 has not sent for this bag of silver this morning; he 
 is always so punctual. No matter, if he doesn't send 
 soon, I will carry it to him. \ii knock D. F.] Ah, some 
 one knocks. It must be his messenger. Come in ! 
 [Enter Jarvais and LaRoque d. f. DePierrepont 
 lising to meet them. 
 
 Good morning M. Jarvais, you are welcome, and 
 your friend be seated. How is M. Dubois after his 
 journey of yesterday. [Jarvais averts his face. 
 
 De Pierre. Why M. Jarvais you turn away; you do 
 not speak ; your looks betoken some great sorrow. 
 What has happened ? Speak! M.Dubois — 
 
 Jar. Is dead ! 
 
 DePierre a?id Marie. Dead ! 
 
 Jai. Yes, dead! 
 
 J}ePierre. Great Heavens ! How? What.'' He left 
 me last night in his usual health and spirits. 
 
 yar. He has been murdered ! 
 
 DePierre. Murdered .'' 
 
 Jar. Yes, robbed and murdered ! 
 
 DePierre. By whom ? 
 
 Jar. I cannot answer that question M. DePierre- 
 pont, I am too inuch shocked to give utterance to 
 the fearful tale. This gentleman M. LaRoque agent 
 of ])olice. will answer for me. 
 
 LaRoque. M. Henri DePierrepont, I have a very 
 painful and unpleasant task to perform. Yesterday 
 
28 Mystkrt of Ardennr^. Act lu. 
 
 you accompanied M. Dubois to Eazeilles on foot. 
 There he received a remittance amounting to seven- 
 teen thousand francs. Returning late at night you 
 stopped and toolv supper at the Soliel d'Or, where 
 M. Dubois drank more than was usual, and when 
 you left together he was somewhat under the influ- 
 •ence of wine. This is all that is known of you and 
 M. Dubois, till at a late hour M. Jarvais heard a crv 
 for help, near the residence of M. Dubois. He 
 aroused some of the neighbors, and on searching 
 they found the venerable Maire within a few rods of 
 his own house, lying dead and bleeding. 
 
 I'ePierre. Merciful heavens! who could have done 
 this deed } Why did I not accompany him ? 
 
 LaRoque. On examination it was found that his 
 watch, ring and money had been taken. 
 
 DePierre. It was for his money then, that he was 
 murdered ? 
 
 LaRoque. So it appears. On further search a 
 knife was found near him, open and bloody; and 
 upon it the initials H. D. P. ! 
 
 DePierre. Amazement ! My knife ! How came it 
 out of my possession.'' Ah! I remember; I used it 
 last night at the Soliel D'Or. I must have left it 
 there, or dropped it on the way. 
 
 LaRoque. M. Henri DePierrepont, the most un- 
 pleasant duty is yet to be performed. You were the 
 last person seen with M. Dubois. The knife with 
 which the murder was committed belongs to you ; 
 circumstances all point to you as the guilty party; 
 and in the King's name I arrest you for murder. 
 
 A file of Gens de Amies enter D. F. and form across 
 the back of the stage. 
 
 DePierre. What ! Me ! I the murderer of M. Du- 
 bois? 
 
 Marie, [frantically.^ No, no, no ; he is innocent. 
 I know he is innocent. I can prove it. I can swear 
 it. 
 
 LaRoque. Woman, circumstances are too strong 
 against your husband and my duty is too plain. M. 
 DePierrepont where are the seventeen thousand 
 
Scene 1 Mystery of Ardennes. 29 
 
 francs M. Dubois had with him last night? Also 
 his watch and ring ? 
 
 DePierre. I know not, on my soul I know not. 
 When we parted last night, here at my own door, 
 he left in my charge a large bag containing one thou- 
 sand francs in silver; there it is, ^points to bag.] He 
 promised to send for it in the morning; this is all I 
 know. Of the murder, who committed it, or of the 
 sixteen thousand francs M. Dubois had with him, I 
 know nothing. I am accused of his murder. What 
 possible motive could I have to kill that good old 
 man ? He was my friend, my benefactor. I coveted 
 not his money. What cruel fate is this that has sur- 
 rounded me with such fearful circumstances.' 
 
 Marie. Oh, sir, my husband is innocent. I know 
 it. I can prove it. Surely my testimony should be 
 received. As you have said, he went yesterday with 
 M. Dubois to bring the money of which you have 
 spoken. He arranged with him in my hearing to 
 stop at the Soliel d' Or for supper. At a late hour 
 last night they returned. I saw them both just out- 
 side the door of this cottage. My husband insisted 
 upon accompanying M. Dubois home, but he would 
 not allow it. He left with him this bag of silver, and 
 said in a pleasant manner he would send a cart 
 around for it in the morning. I heard all this; I saw 
 M. Dubois depart on his way alone. My husband 
 and myself entered the house together, and he has 
 not been absent since. I know it; I swear it ; so 
 help me heaven. He is innocent of this murder. 
 
 LaRoqiie. Madame, you are an interested party, 
 and vour testimony can have but little weight against 
 the terrible circumstances that surround your hus- 
 band ; and if it could I am not the person to lis- 
 ten to it. I am but a servant of the law, and must 
 perform my duty. Your husband must go to prison 
 and await the action of the court. 
 
 Marie. Is there a righteous judge above us.'* and 
 can it be that truth and innocence plead in vain ? M. 
 Jarvais to you I speak; you have known my husband 
 from a child ; can 'you believe him capable of the 
 
30 Mystery of Ardennes. Act hi 
 
 horrible crime of which he stands accused? 
 
 Jar. Madame DePierrepont I am aslourrded ; over- 
 whehned with confusion and regret to think that I, 
 an old and faithful secretary of M . Dub(^)s, shcjuld 
 have recommended so strongly to his confidence a 
 man who could take advantage of his generosity to 
 become his assassin. I would v\illingly believe your 
 story if I could, but the circumstances are too over- 
 whelmingly against him. 
 
 Marie. You too, M. Jarvais, have you lost confi- 
 dence iri us? you that 1 never would have believed 
 could doubt our uprightness and truth. To whom 
 then can we look for sympathy and hope ? 
 
 DePierre. Marie, my leva, my wife, this is a sad 
 ending to our dreams of happiness and peace. We 
 must look above to a higher, wiser power than man, 
 to unravel this dark mystery, and break the meshts 
 of this fearful web of circumstances which fate has 
 thrown around me. Madeleine, my darling child, 
 come to your father's arms. ^Takes Madeleine in 
 his aivis.~\ God bless you dear ones. God bless you 
 both. \Jcisses than.) I must leave you now. Let us 
 hope that when this matter is heard before a court 
 of justice, as it must be, the'bright sun of truth will 
 • pierce the dark, o'ershadowing cloud that has so sud- 
 denly overwhelmed us. Let us hope that the real 
 assassin may be discovered and we restored to hap- 
 piness. 
 
 Marie. God grant it. 
 
 LaRoquc. Forward! \The Gen de Amies face to 
 the left.] 
 
 Marie. Oh, cruel fate ! [Falls on DePierrepont^ s 
 7ieck.'\ 
 
 Mad. [kneeling to LaRoqiie^ Oh ! please don't 
 take my father away. 
 
 Mtcsic. Picture. 
 
 Closed in in one. 
 
 SCENE IL STREET IN ONE. — Enter Dennis 
 O'Grady, l. h. 
 
 Den. Faith, Dennis O'Grady, an its bad luck you 
 
Scene 2. Mystery of Ardennes. 31 
 
 are havin' agin. It's your ould luck, and the fat's all 
 spilled in the fire. The ould masther is dead, and its 
 a sorry day for you Dennis, you unfortunate spalpeen. 
 It's murdered he is, bad luck to the villain that did 
 the dirty job. And what will ye be doin' now ? Jest 
 as you get somebody to be a father to you, and give 
 yez a home for life, to have him killed entirely and 
 you cast out on the wide world an orphan. You'll 
 have to go to say agin, Dennis, you blackguard, and 
 be saking your fortin in forrin parts. 
 
 [A )ioisc of female voices as if hooting or deriding 
 some, ojie r. h.] 
 
 Och ! what's the maning of all that noise ? What's 
 the matter now .'' {looking off R. H.] There's a regu- 
 lar rumpus. Why, there's Misthress Parepong and 
 her little girl ; and it sames as if every woman in the 
 nayborhood was hooting of them. I wonder what its 
 all about. 
 
 Marie rushes on excitedly with Madeleine, r. h. 
 
 Afar. My ])oor child, why are we pursued and per- 
 secuted tJTUS ? 
 
 Mad. Mother, whv do those angry women follow 
 us, and call you a murderess .'' I'm sure you never 
 killed any one. 
 
 Marie. Oh, my poor child, you do not understand. 
 These people believe that your father killed M. Du- 
 bois and that I was his accomplice, because I in- 
 sisted that he was innocent, and have tried in court 
 to save him. Thev seem determined to drive us 
 from the village. Where can we look for shelter and 
 ])rotection ? [Seeing Dennis] Ah Dennis, do you 
 hate and despise us too "i 
 
 Den. Faith, Misthress Parepong, Dennis O'Grady 
 is not the bov to turn his back upon a woman in 
 trouble. They say that your husband murthered my 
 masther, ould Mr. Dubois; but I'm not so clare 
 about that myself. Sure and it looks mighty bad for 
 him, but I can't get it through my thick skull, at all 
 at all. But if he did do it, its no rasin' why theV 
 should be mistreating you about it. 
 
 Marie. And you don't think me capable of being 
 
32 MTbTERY OF Ardennes. Act hi 
 
 the accomplice of a murderer ? 
 
 Den. Faith and I do not. And I make bould to 
 say that I believe you're too good a woman, and } our 
 husband, too, heaven help him, for any such mur- 
 therin business. 
 
 Marie, Thank heaven, there is one that has some 
 sense of justice. 
 
 Den. Justice is it ? And faith and its Dennis 
 O'Grady doesn't belave there is any justice in perse- 
 cuting a poor lone vvoman and a darling little rose- 
 bud of a child, because the head of the family has 
 been unfortinate. Old Misther Jarva and myself 
 don't justly agree on these pints, so I've taken my 
 lave of him and if there is anything I can do for von, 
 to help you, just say the worcl and its Dennis O'Gra- 
 dy that won't go back on ye. 
 
 Marie. We have started to go to the court-room 
 to see my husband, possibly for the last time on 
 earth ; and these infuriated women, who should have 
 shown me friendship and sympathy, have pursued, 
 taunting and reviling me. I have just escaped them. 
 
 Den. Faith, ma'am and I'll go with you and see 
 vou safe ; just you go along with the little girl, and 
 I'll stand betwane vou and harm. 
 
 Mar. Thanks, good friend. Come, my darling. 
 \Exit Marie and Madeleine l. h. 
 
 Den. Faith it's meself that has the greatest res- 
 pict for the female sex, but when a woman turns into 
 a she tiger and goes into the strates to brawl and 
 hoot at her nabors, it's a sorry bit of res]iect she'll 
 get from Dennis O'Grady. Of all the divils in the 
 wide world, a she divil is the worst. 
 
 \_Exit Dennis, l. h. 
 Change. 
 
 SCENE III. — A COURT ROOM. 
 
 The Sentence. 
 . Bench for judges Q. back. Jury box and seats for 
 jury L. H. Prisoner's dock R. H. Tables and Chairs 
 for Counsellors, Officers of the Court, etc. 
 
Scene 3. Mystery of Ardennes. 33 
 
 Disccn^crcd. President of Court on bench tuith two 
 Associate Judges, President in Centre. Twelve Jury- 
 vien in places. Counsellors, Attornies, Officers of the 
 Court, Soldiers, and male and female villagers. — 
 Henri DePierrepont in prisoner'' s dock. Jarvais 
 a)id LaRoque on zuith spectators. 
 
 President of Court. Henri DePieniepont, you have 
 been tried according to law by a jury of your country- 
 men. The evidence has been of a strong character, 
 but entirely circumstantial. There has been so much 
 of mystery surrounding it, that although the jury have 
 found you guilty, yet in view of the extreme penalty 
 f)f the law which is death, they have hesitated, and 
 have recommended you to the mercy of the court. 
 What have you now to say why sentence should not 
 be passed upon you } 
 
 L'eP'ierre. May it please the honorable court, I am 
 innocent of the crime with which .1 am charged; as 
 innocent as yon yourself. It were easy to say this 
 y(.)U will reply, and I must freely admit that almost 
 anv one in my situation would say the same, even 
 iliough gu'.lty. I cannot blame the court, nor the of- 
 ficers of the law, that I stand as I do, in the position 
 ot a convicted felon. A most cruel fate has thrown 
 around me a cloud of circumstances, which even the 
 light of truth cannot at present penetrate ; yet, I have 
 confidence to believe that this mystery of the murder 
 of one of the best men will one day be solved ; and it 
 will then appear as clear as sunlight, that I am inno- 
 cent ; truly innocent ; and have suffered a most cruel 
 wrong. This trouble has come upon me so suddenly, 
 so unexpectedly, that it has almost deprived me of 
 the faculty of thought ; and it is but little I can say to 
 weigh against the testimony already given. The cir- 
 cumstances of my journey with M. Dubois to Eazeilles 
 and return, are as testified to up to the tinje of reach- 
 ing my own door ; but there we separated. I have 
 not seen him since, and know nothing of the murder, 
 save from the statements of others. I had no motive 
 
34 Mystery of Ardennes. y\cT in. 
 
 for murdering the good old man ; he lias always been 
 kind to me ; a generous friend. I did not covet his 
 money; he had made mv circumstances easy. I am in- 
 nocent; but my wife is the only person excej^t the real 
 assassin that knows me to be innocent. All except my 
 wife and child, and the good landlord of the Soliel d' 
 Or, believe me guilty. This is indeed hard to, bear, 
 but not so hard as to know that my wife because she 
 has shown herself a true and noble woman, and has 
 testified to what she knows to be true, is looked upon 
 as my accomplice in this crime ; that the people of our 
 village, to whom she should look for sympathy and 
 kindness, have turned their backs upon her and de- 
 spise her, and my child ; my darling Madeleine is 
 looked upon and treated as the daughter of a mur- 
 derer. This is too horrible ; too great a punishment ; 
 it is worse than any Sentence the court can pass upon 
 me. I have done. \His feelings ovetrome him, and 
 he sinks back exhausted into his seat.'\ A pause. 
 
 Pres. {arisiriiT.^ Henri DePierrepont stand up — 
 The court has listened to you with patience, and all 
 that now remains is to pronounce upon you the sen- 
 tence of the law; which in consideration of the recom- 
 mendation of the jury, is that you be condenmed ti) 
 the gallies and to hard labor for life. Remove the 
 prisoner. 
 
 DePierre May it please the court ; as I am about 
 to be taken hence, grant me an opportunity to say a 
 few words and bid farewell to my poor wife and in- 
 nocent child. There is but little prospect that I shall 
 ever see them again this side of the eternal world. 
 
 Pres. The officers will allow vou ample opportunity 
 before you are taken away, to speak with your wife 
 and child. 
 
 A file of soldiers enter l. h. and form across the 
 stage. Jitdges, furors. Attendants, Councillors etc. 
 Exeunt R. H. U. E. leaving Officers, Soldiers and Gen 
 de Amies. Spectators retire R. & L. \st Entrance. 
 
 Enter Dumont with Marie rt:«<3' Madeleine l. h. 
 DePierre. leaves dock and comes to meet them by per- 
 mission of Officers in cfuirge. 
 
Scene 3. Mystery of Ardennes. 35 
 
 Derierrc. Marie my love, how strange, how fearful 
 sometimes are the ways of Providence. Only a few 
 short days ago we were happy in each other's love ; 
 no thought of such a scene as this ; not a cloud over- 
 shadowed us, and we were looking forward to years 
 of prospeiity and peace. But now how changed; 
 what an avalanche of horror and despair has been 
 hurled upon us ; it is too horrible to conceive of its 
 reality. I, though innocent as this darling child, 
 stand here convicted of murder; and though spared 
 tlie extreme penalty of death; doomed to a felon's 
 life of toil. And you my devoted wife, looked upon 
 by all that were your friends and neighbors, as acces- 
 sory to the crime. And even you my darling inno- 
 cent little one, despised and shunned as the child of 
 a murderer. But I must submit to cruel fate and 
 leave vou, i^erhaps forever. 
 
 Ma'ric. {liiii^ijii;; to DePierre.] Oh, say not that 
 fearful word forever. No, no, no, no, my heart will 
 break at the bitter thought. 
 
 DePierre. Let us pray that it may not be. Let us 
 hope that some good angel that now hovers over us 
 and knows the truth of this dark mystery, may yet 
 find some instrument through which to make it 
 known. Till then we can only trust in that Provi- 
 dence which overlooks all things. 
 
 Marie. It is hard to trust, when such cruel wrong is 
 allowed to go on. 
 
 DePierre. True, it is hard ; yet doubtless there is 
 some good design hidden beneath this darkness. 
 What to say I know not. Could I find words to com- 
 fort and to cheer you, I would speak them. I know 
 you have expended all our little accumulations for my 
 defence in this trial, and henceforth your lot will be 
 a hard one, and it will require all your fortitude to 
 bear up under it. Where you should look for friends 
 to find nothing but scorn and contempt is indeed a 
 hard lot ; and I am powerless to aid you. I need not 
 ask you to cherish my memory when gone ; that 
 would be to distrust the pure devotion you have al- 
 ways shown. Never while life shall last, no matter 
 
36 Mystery of Ardennes. Act m. 
 
 what the trials and sorrows we are called uj^on to 
 suffer, can we forget each other, and my darling 
 Madeleine, may that God who is the father of the 
 fatherless, watch over, guard and bless her. She is 
 yet too young to realize this fearful situation as she 
 may hereafter. Do your best to rear her in the ways 
 of virtue and truth, that her life may be a walking, 
 living denial, of the foul aspersions the evil minded 
 will cast upon us. Teach her never to forget that 
 her father, though a victim of cruel circumstances, suf- 
 fered for no crime. [To M. Dumont.] You, M. 
 Dumont, have been our friend in all this great trouble. 
 It is beyond my power to reward you, but heaven 
 will bless you for the efforts you have made to save 
 me. 
 
 Dinnont. I am rewarded sir in the consciousness 
 of having done my duty. I have been satisfied of 
 your innocence, and regret that my efforts hove failed. 
 
 DePierre. Ah Marie, you will sadly need ])rotec- 
 tion when I am gone. 
 
 Duniont. M. UePierrepont, I fully appreciate the 
 position in which you leave your wife and child, and 
 depend upon it, I shall do all in my power to render 
 them friendship and protection from insult. 
 
 DePierre. I believe you M. Dumont, I believe you. 
 I know you have a kind heart. Yet, I am fearful that 
 the feeling will be too strong for you to content suc- 
 cessfully against it here. Doubtless they will be com- 
 pelled to leave Solenthel. 
 
 Dumont. I will do my best. 
 
 [The file of soldiers face left and open in centre.'\ 
 
 DePierre. The guards await my departure. Marie 
 my love I must go. I must utter that last bitter 
 word, farewell. [7*? Madeleine.] Farewell darling; 
 God bless you ; pray for your poor father that he may 
 come back soon ; good bye. [Hands Madeleine to 
 M. Dumont and goes Tip and takes his place %vith the 
 guards.^ Farewell, may heaven protect you. 
 
 Marie. No, no. This is too much ; all is lost. [Faints. 
 Plaintive music. Pictitre. Slozv Drop. 
 
Scene 1. Mystery of Ardennes. 87 
 
 ACT FOURTH. 
 
 REMORSE. 
 
 A Lapse of Fourteen Years. 
 
 Scene. — Grotmds of M. Gaillard in the suburbs of 
 Lima, Peru. A magnificent irar den scene. On R. H. 
 a fine portico., zvith steps dinvn to the stage, being the 
 entrance to M. Gaillaru's house. Rustic seats. Gar- 
 den chairs. An easy chair R. C. 
 
 Dennis O'Grady discovered an-anging things. 
 
 Den. And so they say the masther's failing badiv, 
 and what if he should die now; just as I've got so 
 nicely settled in a new and comfortable home. It's 
 jest your onld luck Dennis, to be living till every- 
 body else is dead. I never shall forget about ould 
 Mr. Dubois, the kindest ould masther I ever had ; 
 and he went and got killed and left me a poor or- 
 phan, and iK)or Mr. Parepong and all the rest of the 
 family had to suffer for it. It was fourteen years 
 ago. I wonder will it ever come out right? I got 
 sick of the outlandish counthry with the crooked jaw- 
 breakin"" names, and went to say again, and finallv 
 turned up clown here in South America and hired to 
 a new masther. He isn't the agreeablest I ever saw, 
 but he has always been ginerous with me, and I hope 
 it isn't going to be dying that he is and leave me an 
 orphan the second time. Here comes the Docther 
 ^nd Til ax him all about it. 
 
 \^E liter Physician frotfi house R. H. 
 
 Physician, Good morning, Dennis. 
 
 Den. Your sarvint, Docther dear. And how is 
 the Masther thismornig? 
 
 Physician. He is very poorly, Dennis. 
 
 Den. And don't you think you can cure him Doc- 
 ther ? And it's sure you'll have the blessin' of Den- 
 nis O'Grady if you do. 
 
 Physician I am fearful, Deunj-s that he wiH never 
 be any better. 
 
38 Mystery of Ardennes. Act iv. 
 
 Den. Sorry day for you Dennis, you unfortunate 
 spalpeen. What would Biddv O'Gradv say if she 
 only knew the throuble you're always in. 
 
 Physician M. Gaillard wished me to send you to 
 him, as he had a message for vou to deliver. 
 
 {Exit Physician l. h. 
 
 Den. A message is it, faith then and I must attend 
 to it. Oh, you're an unlucky dog withvour masthers 
 Dennis O'Grady. \Exit into House R. H. 
 
 {Enter Arthur DeVkrsan, DaRose and Ci.evel 
 
 R. H. 
 
 LaRose. M. Gaillard has a line estate ; these 
 grounds are indeed l)eautiful. 
 
 Clevel True, LaRose, and it would seem that their 
 p(.)Ssessor might enjoy unalloyed happiness in such 
 a paradise. 
 
 LaRose. And yet M. Gaillard is not hai)py. He 
 does not seem to enjoy life. 
 
 Clevel. But you know M. Gaillard is a bachelor. 
 He lives a life of single blessedness, which t(j my 
 mind is a condition anything but blessed. 
 
 LaRose You are right Clevel; man was not made 
 to live alone; in such a condition he can never more 
 than half enjoy life, for he is but half what God in- 
 tended him to be. 
 
 DcV^ersan. Gentlemen, vour remarks would seem 
 to be aimed at me as well as M. Gaillard, my worthy 
 patron. I too, am a bachelor, and yet I think I more 
 than half enjoy life. But perhaps my youth may ex- 
 cuse me in your eyes. 
 
 LaRose. Say rather your devotion to M. Gaillard, 
 who feels that through the intervention of the ordi- 
 nance of matrimony he has been separated from all 
 his friends except you ; and he regards you with jeal- 
 ousy fearful that you too may be induced to enter the 
 matrimonial state, and he be left friendless. 
 
 DeVersan. You forget gentlemen that M. Gaillard 
 was not always single. He has tried the married 
 state, and from what he has told me, I should judge 
 that his experience in that direction had not been 
 altogether as pleasant as yours seems to have been 
 
Scene 1. Mystery of Ardennes. 39 
 
 He certainly has not felt desirous of thrusting his 
 neck into the matrimonial noose again. 
 
 LaRosc. I was not aware that M. Gaillard had ever 
 been married. 
 
 Clcvel. Nor I. Is it true, DeVersan? 
 
 J}cVersan. It is true. You know that for the past 
 si.K years I have ])^en his legal adviser and confi- 
 dante 
 
 LaRoSi. It would seem DeVersan that you have 
 had most gloomy company in M. Gaillard; he seems 
 so sullen and morose at times, and always grave and 
 thoughtful. 
 
 DeVersan. It is true, M, LaRose, there are times 
 when he is morose, and even sullen; and he appears 
 like one whose mind is weighted with some heavv 
 burden, yet he has been very kind to me. 
 
 Clevel. Yes, DeVersan, you have undoubtedly 
 found a good friend in M. Gaillard. 
 
 DeVersan. True! Seven years ago I came here a 
 poor voung man to seek mv fortune. I had studied 
 law, and started as a lawyer. At first my prospects 
 seemed gloomy enough, but becoming acquainted 
 with M Gaillard, he employed me, aiid soon became 
 greatly attached to me. Through his influence 1 
 have been very successful. 
 
 LaRose. You are a luckv dog, Arthur. You have 
 found a real El Dorado in your patron, M. Gaillard. 
 Well you are a good felUnv and deserve your suc- 
 cess. 
 
 Clevel. And I also rejoice in your good fortune 
 and hope you may find a partner to share it with you. 
 
 DeVersan. Oh, I understand your meaning per- 
 fectly, but I have no thought of changing my condi- 
 tion. I have seen nothing yet that could make an 
 impression upon my heart. 
 
 LaRose. Perhaps DeVersan has left his heart in 
 sunny France. 
 
 DeVersan. Now, gentlemen, this is too bad, you 
 are two to one; don't be so severe upon a poor bach- 
 elor. I assure you I came here with a svhole heart, 
 untouched by Cupid's arrow, and although for the 
 
40 Mystery of Abdennes. act iv. 
 
 last half hour you have deliberately aimed to set me 
 against my single life, you have failed. Depend 
 upon it when I do fall in love, it will l)e a sudden 
 affair. But let us leave this senseless talk, and turn 
 to something more serious. M. Gaillard has not 
 been seen in public much of late. His health is very 
 feeble; he has grown prematurely old; and his svs- 
 tem seems to be breaking up. He visits his garden 
 dailv for an airing; but seldom goes bevond its lim- 
 its. ' 
 
 LaRose. Do you think he is on the decline ? 
 
 DeVersan. It may be, yet I think there is some- 
 thing more than physical infirmity wearing upon him. 
 
 Clevel. He is very rich. 
 
 LaRose. And has no relatives. Should he die De- 
 Versan, you will be likely to receive something hand- 
 some. 
 
 DeVersan. Gentlemen, it ill becomes us to stand 
 here discussing the ^probabilities of profiting by the 
 death of a fellow being. M. Gaillard with all his 
 failings, has been very generous, and when he shall 
 depart hence, which, pray heaven, ma\- not be for 
 a long time to come; there are manv that will lose a 
 good friend. 
 
 [Ejiter Dennis /77J7« house k. h. 
 
 Deii. [Iiavino- over Jieard the foregoing sfeech^ And 
 you may well sav that, Mr. Versong. It's meself 
 that knows what you say is true, and if the masther 
 should die, its Dennis O'Grady that wouldn't have a 
 dry eye in his head at all. 
 
 LaRose. I meant no harm; DeVersan; you know 
 it is the way of the world to discuss the probabilities 
 as to what disposition the wealthy will make of their 
 property at death, especially if their chances for life 
 are not good. 
 
 J)en. And it's a mighty mane world to be sticking 
 its dirty nose into business that doesn't concern it, at 
 all, at all. 
 
 DeVersan. Well, gentlemen, as I see M. Gaillard 
 is not out at present, I will accompany you a short 
 distance on your way and return anon, as I have some 
 
Scene 1. Mystery of Ardennes. 41 
 
 matters of business to communicate. 
 
 [They are going L. H. 
 
 De7i. Hould on, Mister Veisong, I want to spake 
 a word to yees. 
 
 DeVei'suft. Say on, Dennis. 
 
 /^c-w.-The masther sent me to find you, and when 
 I found you I almost forgot my arrend, because you 
 see, I didn't have to look for ye. The masther wants 
 to see you for something important, he said ; and 
 he'll be ready to meet you here in the garden, in a 
 quarter of an hour. 
 
 DeVersan. I will attend on him. 
 
 \^Exeu7it LaRose, Clevel ami DeVersan, l. h. 
 
 Den. Now, then what will I be doing next. I must 
 see that the chair is all right for the masther. {^Ar- 
 ranges easy c/iair.} Now then I must go to the doc- 
 tor's and get some pills for the master, and a bottle 
 of physic for the ould gray horse that's got the ma- 
 sels or some other outlandish disase that I don't 
 justly remember the name of now. 
 
 [Exii Dennis l. h. 
 
 Enter Gaillakd_/)w;/ house R. H. assisted by Fran- 
 cois, wJio helps him to chair, R. c. He sits. P'ran- 
 cois stands l of Gaillard. 
 
 Francois. The air is fine and refreshing this morn- 
 ing, M. Gailiaid. 
 
 Gaillard. Yes, Francois, to those who are suscept- 
 ible to soothing influences, it is undoubtedly refresh- 
 ing; but to me, nothing refreshes me now. I have 
 grown old, weak and withered, a prey to disease; and 
 with everything around me to make life desirable, I 
 cannot enjoy it. 
 
 Francois. It grieves me good, M. Gaillard to hear 
 you s])eak thus, and to realize that what you say is 
 true. It seems hard that one who has been so good 
 and generous as yourself, should be afflicted thus. 
 
 Gaillard. Talk not to me of goodness, Francois. 
 Poor judges are we of each other. You call me good 
 and generous, yet I would be willing to sacrifice all 
 that I possess could 1 really have the satisfaction of 
 
42 Mystery of Ardennes. Act iv. 
 
 feeling worthy of the good opinion yourself and 
 others I have befriended hold concerning me. 
 
 Francois. I wish you would be more cheerful Mon- 
 sieur, but the peculiarities of your disease are such 
 as seem to deprive you of the enjoyment of pleasant 
 influences; and to lead you to disparage your own 
 self. Endeavor, Monsieur, to throw off these gloomy 
 feelings and I have no doubt you will be yourself 
 once more. 
 
 Gaillard. I fear it is too late Francois. V/ould I 
 could be cheerful, but it is no use trying. I must 
 suffer on. You may go now. [Francois is about to 
 retire.'\ Stayl You watched with me last night, Fran- 
 cois .? 
 
 Frajtcois, I did. 
 
 Gaillard. Did you observe anything unusual ? 
 
 Francois. You seemed disturbed and tossed about 
 much in your sleep. 
 
 Gaillard. {greatly agitated.'] I said nothing ,? You 
 heard no talking, Francois ? 
 
 Francois. You seemed at times much troubled in 
 mind; you groaned heavily, and uttered low sounds 
 as if in talk, but I could not understand the words 
 uttered. 
 
 Gaillard. So, you are sure you heard nothing, 
 Francois ? 
 
 Francois. Nothing that I could distinguish or un- 
 derstand. 
 
 Gaillard. It is well ; leave me for the present. I 
 expect M. DeVersan here shortly on some business. 
 "When I need you I will call. 
 
 [Fxit Francois, u. e. l. 
 
 Gaillard. So my secret is safe. Safe ! Yes safe ! 
 'Tis here ; here ; concealed within my breast to ran- 
 kle here and torture still my soul. Oh ! could I with 
 one bold stroke, blot from my memory that fearful 
 night. Coward that I am, I tremble lest in my very 
 dreams, I may disclose to those about me the hor- 
 rid record of that fearful crime. Oh, remorse ; thou 
 frightful, gnawing fiend that doth pursue my soul. 
 Ceaseless the torture I endure. What is all this 
 
Scene 1. Mystery of Ardennes. 43 
 
 wealth to me ? To those about me it hath a show of 
 power, of greatness, but to me — it cannot buy me 
 peace. 'Tis stained with blood. There's blood all 
 about me. I cannot banish it from my sight. I can- 
 not drive away the vision of that pale old man. I see 
 — 1 see him now — he beckons me to come with him. 
 No, no, no, I cannot go with you. Take him away. 
 1 faint — I — I suffocate ! Help! Francois! [/a/uts.] 
 
 P^RANCOIS enters hastily, goes to M. Gaillard and 
 raises his head. He slowly revives and looks around. 
 
 Francois. Had I not better help you in ? 
 
 Gaillard. [Looking zuildly around.} Where am 1} 
 What! Francois, you here .^ Oh; I had forgot; I 
 called you. Then I am still safe. He's gone. Did 
 you not see him, Francois? 
 
 Francois. This is some strange fancy; there is no 
 one here but ourselves. 
 
 Gaillard. Oh, I see — I see — I have been dreaming 
 again. I feel better now. You may retire. [Fran- 
 cois retires L. U. E. 
 
 Gaillard. I cannot endure this agony. These fear- 
 ful piiantoms which pursue me, sleeping or waking- 
 ere long will drive me mad. I am a broken down 
 old man. 1 am very feeble and can live but a few 
 more days at best. De Versan shall hear all. I will 
 confess to him the guilty wretch I am, before i die, 
 and thus if possible drive off these harrowing spec- 
 tres from my mind. 
 
 A'/z/fr DeVersan. Gaillard arises to meet him 
 Imt sinks back exhausted into chair. DeVersan ^7^- 
 sists him. 
 
 Del'ersan. Why M. Gaillard, you seem very weak 
 to-day. You alarm me; can I be of any assistance to 
 you } 
 
 Gailla-nd. DeVersan I have had a very bad night, 
 and to-day I am very poorly. You have come in good 
 time ; sit you down. I have important business that 
 I must transact with you while I have yet the 
 strength. [Very feeble. 
 
 Del'ersan. [sits.} 1 hope M. Gaillard your illness 
 has not taken a serious turn. Perhaps the informa- 
 
44 Mystery of Ardennes. Act iv. 
 
 tion I imparted to you yesterday has been too much 
 for you in your feeble condition. 
 
 Gaillard. Perhaps that has precipitated matters 
 somewhat. Possibly you cannot conceive of the mo- 
 tives which led me to commission you to obtain the 
 information you yesterday imparted.'' 
 
 DeVersan. I have not divined them. 
 
 Gaillard. Listen to me, then judge; Arthur De- 
 Versan listen to a dying man, and interrupt me not 
 while I reveal to you a tale of horror that shall chill 
 your blood. You see before you an assassin, a thief, 
 a murderer. Sixteen years ago I was a Collector of 
 Taxes, and adjoint to the Maire of Solenthel, in the 
 Department of Ardennes, in France. The Maire 
 was that same M. Dubois concerning whom you in- 
 stituted inquiries. He was a rich man and reputed 
 to be somewhat miserly. My habits of life were 
 such that he became justly incensed against me and 1 
 was dismissed. His language to me I considered 
 insulting, and the dismissal humiliating; I vowed to 
 be revenged. I was then possessed of an ample 
 fortune; but leaving Solenthel, a gay life in Paris 
 soon made heavy inroads upon it, and two years later 
 I returned greatly reduced in cirumstances, and suf- 
 ficiently wicked to commit robbery, and even nuu-der 
 to improve my finances and compass my revenge. I 
 was so disguised that no one could recognize me. 
 Sitting one evening in a little hotel not far from the 
 village, I saw two men enter and call for supper. 
 One was M. Dubois; the other Henri DePierrepont, 
 the man who had succeeded to my position. While 
 they were eating I discovered from their conversa- 
 tion that they had with them a large amount of money. 
 A dreadful thought came over me, that here was my 
 opportunity for me to retrieve my fortune and accom- 
 plish my revenge. DePierrepont, on departing, left 
 behind him a knife which I secured to aid me in my 
 devilish w^ork. I followed but dared not attack both 
 at once, as I knew DePierrepont was more than a 
 match for me. Once or twice I thought of giving up 
 my fearful design; but at the house of DePierrepont 
 
Scene 1. Mystery of Ardennes. 45 
 
 they se])arated and Dubois went on alone. I bounded 
 after him. I gave myself no time for thought; I 
 stabbed him in the neck ; left the knife beside him ; 
 robbed him of his watch, ring and money; then fled. 
 I left France forever. I came hither under the as- 
 sumed name of Gaillard, I became a merchant; 
 rich ; respected; but I never knew a happy moment. 
 Not only had I murdered IVI. Dubois, but Pierrepont 
 was suspected, tried, convicted, and sentenced ; only 
 not to death. I thus ruined an honest man and sent 
 his family forth from society to suffer as outlaws. 
 
 DeVersaii. Oh! horror! Wretched man, what a 
 tale of guilt is this. 
 
 Gaillard. DeVersan, listen to me, my friend ; do 
 not turn from me, in this, my extremity. I have left 
 you mv sole heir. 
 
 DcVersaii. Never will I — 
 
 Gaillard. Hark! Vou must, and you will. Take 
 my property and think when you enjoy it, with pity 
 on its present guilty owner ; and I will make public 
 confession; pay the heirs of Dubois the amount stolen 
 from them, and bv proving my own guilt, obtain the 
 pardon of the innocent DePierrepont. Refuse me 
 and I will die impenitent, for my last friend will have 
 deserted me. 
 
 DeVersan. I accept for the sake of those that 
 have been so deeply wronged, and that you who have 
 been so good a friend to me, may be able as far as 
 possible to purge your soul from this awful crime. 
 
 G'^/Z/Az/'v/. DeVersan, my dear friend, you take a 
 heavy load from off my soul. Francois ! 
 
 [Enter Francois, l. u. e. 
 
 Gaillard. Summon instantly the Consuls of France 
 and England, some clergymen and the Alcalde. 
 
 [Exit Francois i)ito house r. h. 
 
 Gaillard. And you, DeVersan, go and call some of 
 your P'rench and English friends; and in their pres- 
 ence I will make full and free confession of my guilt, 
 and may Heaven have mercy on me. 
 
 DeVersa7i. \tiirning.\ Amen. [Picture. 
 
 END OF ACT FOURTH. 
 
46 Mystery op Ardennes. Act v. 
 
 ACT FIFTH. 
 
 SCENE FIRST. THE CONVICT's DAUGHTER. 
 
 Scene. — The forest of Ardennes. Wood in Two. 
 Cnt zvood in one. 
 
 Madeleine DePierrepont [age 22) discovered. 
 Before her is a bundle of sticks whicJi she has been 
 gathering. She is poorly but neatly clad. 
 
 Plaintive nncsic as cnrtain rises. 
 
 Madeleine. Still the same weary round of toil. 
 Still — still an outcast. No friends to cheer and 
 comfort; no word of kindness, save from her who 
 shares with me my woe, my mother dear. Crushed 
 and oppressed; all gone. But hope still clings to 
 me, and gives some vague and indistinct assurance 
 that all will yet be well. Last night I dreamed of 
 my dear father, who for fouiteen }ears has passed a 
 life of unrequited toil. I dreamed that he was free 
 and that he clasped me in his arms, and kissed me as 
 fondly, as tenderly as when I was a child. Oh. that 
 heaven would grant that one precious boon, to see 
 my father free once more and the black stain re- 
 moved from off our lives. 'Twas but a dream and I 
 must still toil on. 
 
 [Mtisic] — She is about gathering up the zvood to de- 
 part when Arthur DeVersan enters r. h. \st e. 
 He is in a riding suit, with zuhip 171 hand, as just 
 alighted fr 0771 horseback. 
 
 DeVersan. What! A female here alone in this 
 wild forest } {aside.^ She's as handsome as a pic- 
 ture. Young woman, what brings you to this soli- 
 tary place t 
 
 Mad. Please you Monsieur, I am not so solitary 
 as you would suppose. I have a friend not far away. 
 
Scene 1. Mystery of Ardennes. 47 
 
 My mother dwells in yonder hut which you can see 
 through the trees \points off-L. u. E.] and as you ask 
 me my business I think there may be no harm in 
 answering. I have been gathering wood to cook our 
 dinner. 
 
 DcVcrsan. [Locy/cs oj^u u. E.] What a miserable 
 abode and what a wretched occupation for so pretty 
 a girl. Surely my dear you might put your fingers 
 to better use. Here's that will buy you firewood for 
 montlis to come. [losses a piece of gold to Made- 
 leine.] 
 
 Mad. Surely, Monsieur, I have done nothing to 
 give you the right to insult me. What you have done 
 may have been meant kindly, but I ask alms of no 
 one. 
 
 DeVersan. [slightly confused.'] Pardon me, mad- 
 amoiselle, I meant no insult ; pardon me I pray you. 
 I thought you poor, and my impulse was to aid you. 
 
 Mad. Thank you, Monsieur, for the first kind 
 words I have heard these fifteen years except from 
 my own mother. But go your way, else the whole 
 country will shun you too. 
 
 DeVersaii. What mean ^ow} 
 
 [Music, Hurry and chord.] i6"w/fr Edward Du- 
 bois R. H. greatly enraged with zif raised whip, and 
 approaches Madeleine. 
 
 Edward. Begone wretch ! Viper ! begone and dare 
 not speak to an honest man. 
 
 DeVersan. Amazement! What can this mean ? 
 
 Mad. [to Ed^aard.] [calmly.] I did not speak to 
 Monsieur. Monsieur spoke to me. 
 
 Edward. Raise your accursed lips to me, and I 
 will scourge you with my whip. 
 
 Mad. {ivith spirit.] Perhaps M. Edward Dubois 
 is a coward. 
 
 Edward, [advancing.] What! dare you answer.-' 
 [He is abotct to strike her ; De Versajt prruents him. 
 
 DeVersan. Nay, Edward you would not strike a 
 woman. 
 
 Edward, [in rage.] A woma;. ! Do yuu call Mad- 
 
48 Mystery of Ardennes. Act v. 
 
 eleine DePierrepont, the child of the murderer of my 
 uncle Dubois a woman ? say rather a fiend. 
 
 DeVe^'san. [greatly agitated.'] What! Madeleine 
 DePierrepont ! [staggers; Edward supports Jiim.] 
 Madeleine DePierrepont ! Is that Madeleine DePier- 
 repont .-* No, she is not a woman — 
 
 Mad. Another enemy. [Exit hastily rvith wood, 
 
 L. U. E.] 
 
 DeVersan. No, she is something more noble. 
 
 Edward. Why so much interested in one so hate- 
 ful to me ? 
 
 DeVersan. How can you manifest such bitter 
 hatred to one so lovely ? To me it is a mystery. 
 
 Edward. Shall I tell you her history. 
 
 DeVersan. I have heard it already but did not ex- 
 pect to find her here. 
 
 Edivard. She dwells in yonder hut with her moth- 
 er, where for fifteen years they have been outcasts 
 from society, shunned and sc(irned by all the coun- 
 try around. 
 
 DeVersan. And you too Edward, join in this perse- 
 cution against two weak and suffering women, believ- 
 ing the father guilty; which to me is not clearly 
 proved and you know I am a lawyer. Why; the wild 
 savages of North America are more civilized than 
 you. I see in this heroic couple subjects of wonder 
 and admiration, but not of hate. Poor creatures! 
 Fifteen years of suffering and misery have not satis- 
 fied you all, but you must still treat them as outcasts. 
 
 Edward. DeVersan you have just come from Amer- 
 ica, where, it appears, you have picked up strange 
 notions. For my part, the wife and daughter of an 
 assassin, and the assassin of my uncle are detestable 
 wretches whom I must ever hate. 
 
 DeVersan. Injustice, infamous injustice I think 
 I see her meek face now, looking at me so proudly 
 and yet so sweetly. I never saw anything so lovely 
 in my life. 
 
 Edward. Why, the man is in love, ha, ha, ha. 
 
 [Laughs. 
 
 De Versan. Half. And what is more, Edward, do 
 
Scene 1. INJtstert of Ardennes. 49 
 
 you know I would marry that girl to-morrow if she 
 would have me ; but I know she would not. 
 
 E(hoard. By my faith, UeVersan, you amaze me ; 
 and you know I am not easily amazed. Of courie 
 you are joking — ? 
 
 De Versan. Time will show. But now my dear 
 fellow, you follow that path in search of pleasure; I 
 this on business. 
 
 Edward. Adieu till to-morrow. 
 
 Dcl'^crsaii. Yes, vou breakfaot with me at the 
 Soliel d'Or. 
 
 Edward. Agreed, my philosopher, to please you ; 
 naught else would induce me. I detest the place ; 
 the landlord, M. Dumont always insisted upon the 
 innocence of DePierrepont and protested against 
 what he is pleased to call the injustice shown to Mad- 
 eleine and her mother. 
 
 DeVersan. He is right and I like him for it. — > 
 While 1 remain in this neighborhood he shall receive 
 my patronage. 
 
 Edward. You are altogether too generous in your 
 ideas of men and things. 
 
 DeVersaii. Think as you please, but be assured 
 Edward Dubois, the time will come when you will 
 deeply regret the harsh treatment you have bestowed 
 upon these two friendless women. 
 
 Edward. I think you will be disappointed Arthur; 
 but again adieu. {^Exit R. H. 
 
 Dc Versan. \sohis.~\ How weak is the judgment of 
 such men. Did Edward Dubois know what 1 know, 
 he would bitterly regret his sudden outburst of pas- 
 sion ; his shameful manifestation of hatred and rage 
 toward that unfortunate young woman. Poor fellow, 
 what a pity he is not more enlarged in his ideas. 
 But he shall know all to-morrow. How singular that 
 I should discover in an old friend that I once knew 
 in Paris the nephew of old M. Dubois, the murdered 
 man, and the heir to his estate. Ah ! Edward, I 
 have a surprise in store for you. It is very strange 
 what an impression that beautiful young woman has 
 made upon me. Hitherto Cupid's darts have fallen 
 
50 , Mystery of Ardknnrs. act v. 
 
 harmlessly about me, bnt it would seem that the 
 thoughtless expression I made to my two friends ia 
 Lima, Peru, is about to he realized. "When I fall in 
 love it will be a sudden affair." Ha, ha, ha, There 
 is no mistake, I really am in love. But I have busi- 
 ness with this young woman and her mother. I have 
 as great a surprise in store for them as I have for 
 Dubois. I will go at once, make known mv mission, 
 and my love, and learn from them my fate. 
 
 ' {^Exit L. u. E. 
 
 SCENE SECOND. 
 \Thc Mystery Solved^ 
 
 Scr.NE. — Interior of a charcoal burner'' s Jiut in the 
 Forest of Ardennes. 
 
 A mde, semi-circular interior composed of poles 
 tied together at the top. The crevices stuffed ivith mud 
 and thatch. A rude fireplace Q. A rough door prac- 
 ticable in F. R. A rough bed in one corner. Two old 
 chairs and small log on. An old table, cooking iiten- 
 sils, etc. Everything ?ieat, but exhibiting the most 
 extreme poverty. 
 
 Marie DePierrepont discovered sewing on 
 coarse work, plainly, but neatly attired. 
 
 Marie, [pausing.'] Yes, 'tis fifteen years to-day since 
 he was taken away from us. Still all is dark and 
 the pale light of hope just flickers in the socket. 
 Heaven seems deaf to prayer and supplication. I 
 almost waver in my faith in power omnipotent and 
 just. Still we must struggle, toil, and pine under the 
 dark cloud of woe. Oh, God ! in mercy hear; give 
 us some light to strengthen us to bear the heavy 
 burden cast upon us. 
 
 Enter Madeleine d. f. zvith bundle of wood. She 
 appears greatly agitated. Throivs 7vood doivn by 
 fireplace. 
 
 Marie. Madeleine, my child, what ails you ? You 
 seem greatly agitated. 
 
 Mad. Oh', mother ! mother ! Let us leave this 
 place. 
 
 Marie. Why, my daughter, what has happened } 
 
Scene 2. Mystkry of Ardennes- 51 
 
 Mad. Even here in this lonely retreat away from 
 the haunts of human beings, we are pursued by those 
 who hate us. 
 
 Marie. What mean you ? 
 
 Mad. Just now as I was gathering wood in the for- 
 est, two men on horseback stopped near me and dis- 
 mounted; one of them,- a good looking stranger, ap- 
 proached and on seeing me, asked my business, and 
 threw me this piece of gold, saying I could put my 
 fingers to better use; this would buy me firewood for 
 months to come. I resented this as an insult. He 
 apologized and said he "meant no ins.ult ; his motive 
 was good, he thought me poor, and felt impelled to 
 aid me." I was thanking him for his kind words, 
 and would have returned the gold, but on the instant 
 the other, who was young Edward Dubois, came up 
 in a great rage, and flourishing his riding whip, called 
 me "a viper" and told me to "begone, and dare not 
 speak to an honest man." I replied, "I did not 
 speak to the gentleman, he spoke to me." This en- 
 raged him more and he threatened to scourge me 
 with his whip. Stung to anger, I hinted that he was 
 a coward. He became perfectly furious and would 
 have struck me had not the other prevented him ; 
 who asked him if he was not ashamed to raise his 
 hand against a woman. Young M. Dubois foiled in 
 his purpose and livid with rage hissed out, "do you 
 call Madeleine DePierrepont, the daughter of the 
 assassin of my uncle Dubois, a woman .'' Say rather 
 a fiend." At the mention of my name a strange hor- 
 ror seemed to seize upon the other, and staggering 
 back into his companions arms he exclaimed "Made- 
 leine DePierrepont I Is that Madeleine DePierre- 
 pont ? She is not a woman." Hearing these words, 
 I hastened away grieved to know that another had 
 been added to the number of those that hate and 
 despise us. 
 
 Marie. Calm yourself my child; for your sake I am 
 grieved, for myself I have endured such treatment for 
 so many years that I may say I am calloused, har- 
 dened to it. The scorn of fifteen years has made me 
 
52 Mtstert of Ar!ieknes. Act v 
 
 despise the world; but vou are hurt, and justlv so, 
 mv child. Whither could we flv from here ? Doubt- 
 less such an annoyance will not occur again. We 
 know that young Dubois hates us, but he will rather 
 shun than seek us here. Poor, misguided young man 
 I hope the time will come when he will see his error. 
 But come my child, build the fire, and make ready 
 the dinner. We have no time to waste. 
 
 Mad. Yes, mother, I do not care for what young 
 M. Dubois said, but I am vexed that the good look- 
 ing stranger should have said I was not a woman. 
 [Enter DeVersan, d. f. 
 
 DeVcrsau. You are not a woman, but an angel. 
 
 Marie. What means this intrusion ? 
 
 Mad. Why am I thus pursued. 
 
 DeVersan. You seem somewhat surprised. Mad- 
 ame ; you will be still more so when I add that I 
 have come here with the deliberate intention of im- 
 ploring yon to give me your daughter's hand in mar- 
 riage. 
 
 Marie. Sir, this — 
 
 DeVersan. Oh, hear me, Madame ! Not now, not 
 instantly; but when you know me better. 
 
 Marie. \indis;nanily.\ Monsieur, this is too much. 
 Go! The felon's daughter is still too good for insult. 
 
 DeVersan. Perhaps, Madame, your surprise will 
 cease when I tell you I have come sixteen thousand 
 miles to prove it. 
 
 Alarie. [greatly agitated.'] You are — speaking — se- 
 riously "i 
 
 DeVersan. On my soul and conscience. 
 
 Mad. [grasping hand of DeVersan.] Joy, joy, 
 the saviour has come at last. 
 
 Marie. The clouds begin to break ! 
 
 Mad. The light begins to dawn. 
 
 DeVersan. Be calm, my dear young woman, and I 
 will tell you my story in a few words. You will then 
 understand my motives in coming here. I scarcely 
 expected to find you so near to Solenthel ; but at 
 last determined to try. I came here yesternight, and 
 soon heard of your heroic courage and resignation. 
 
Sonne 2 Mystery of Ardeknes. 58 
 
 Be seated, Madame, and you, dear girl, and listen to 
 tidings that shall be joyful ideed to your filial hearts. 
 
 {T/uy sit. Marie ^« chah' r. c. DeVersan c. 
 Madeleine on log l. c. 
 
 Mane. Thank heaven, our prayers are heard. 
 
 DeVersan. I am a young Frenchman, and about 
 seven years ago I emigrated to Peru in search of 
 fortune. I started as a lawyer, and through the aid 
 of one M. Gaillard a merchant with whom I became 
 accjuainted, found business plentiful enough. I knew 
 many Frenchmen in the place, but M. Gaillard was 
 my most intimate friend. He was more than twice 
 my age ; grave ; even sullen and saturnine; but he 
 had quaint ways ; was very charitable; and I liked 
 him. Besides, the others were married ; had fami- 
 lies and he was alone. We used to meet of an even- 
 ing at a cafe, play picquet ; and then walk home 
 together. He was very rich and lived in great style, 
 but not in any way up to his income. People won- 
 dered he never married ; but he said he had been 
 married once, and was not inclined to repeat the ex- 
 periment. He looked with alarm upon the prospect 
 of mv settling down in life, and did all in his power 
 to reserve to himself one bachelor friend. Some 
 over a year ago he was taken ill and his physician in- 
 timated to him that he could not recover. The dis- 
 ease seemed more of a mental than of a physical 
 character; together with a general breaking up of na- 
 ture, owing to a continual strain of mental troubles. 
 Daring his indisposition he seemed strangely inter- 
 ested about the affairs of one M. Dubois, who was 
 robbed and murdered at Solenthel some fifteen years 
 ago; and commissioned me to make inquiries about 
 the whole affair ; which I did and acquainted him 
 with the result. The effect upon him was to cause 
 him rapidly to grow worse and sending for me sud- 
 denly, he confessed that he himself was the mur- 
 derer. 
 
 Marie. Great heaven ! The dawn has come. 
 
 Mad. Yes, yes, the mystery is solved. 
 
 DeVersan. He said his real name was Mesnard. 
 
54 Mystery op Akdenjves. Act v. 
 
 Marie. What ! he that was a former tax gatherer 
 and adjoint to the Maire ? 
 
 DeVersan. The same. 
 
 Marie. After his dismissal he went to Paris and 
 was never heard of again. How came he at Solen- 
 thel without being recognized ? 
 
 DeVersan. After two years he came back dis- 
 guised. He said that he felt keenly his humiliation 
 and disgrace and resolved to be revenged. On the 
 night of the murder he was present at the Soliel 
 d'Or, when your husband and M. Dubois entered. 
 From their conversatian, he learned that they had a 
 large sum of money with them, which he resolved 
 to obtain. When they left he folloued them, having 
 first secured a knife your husband left behind. 
 
 Marie. Then he did leave it at the Soliel d'Or t 
 
 DeVersan. He did. 
 
 Marie. How the dark clouds melt before the sun 
 of truth. 
 
 DeVersan. After they separated at the door of 
 your cottage, he pursued Dubois till within a short 
 distance of his own house ; rushed upon him from 
 behind, stabbed him with DePierrepont's knife; 
 robbed him and left the bloody knife for the purpose 
 of turning suspicion upon your hus'band. He left 
 France forever, but he could not flee from a remem- 
 brance of his crime. The horrid image of the mur- 
 dered man was always before him tormenting ai d 
 upbraiding. 
 
 Marie. How horrible this tale. 
 
 DeVersan. The recital filled me with horror. I 
 could not speak. "DeVersan" he said, "turn not 
 from me in my extremity, I have left you my sole 
 heir." I shrank from him with disgust, and refused 
 to receive the wealth of a rtiurderer. He insisted 
 that if I did he would die impenitent ; but if I con- 
 sented he would make a public confession, pay the 
 heirs of M. Dubois the money stolen ; and by prov- 
 ing his own guilt obtain the pardon of DePierrepont. 
 I accepted. 
 
 Marie. And may Heaven bless you for it. 
 
Scene 3 Mystkry of Ardennes. 55 
 
 DeVcj-saii. An hour later, in the presence of the 
 consuls of France and England, four Englishmen, 
 four Frenchman, two priests and the Alcalde; Gail- 
 lard, or rather Mesnard, made his solemn confession, 
 which was signed by all present, sealed, and one of 
 two copies given to me. That copy is now in the 
 hands of the Minister of Justice. And here young 
 woman, here is a copy of your father's free pardon. 
 {s/: 070 1 no- paper. 
 
 A wild exclamation of Joy fro??i both women. 
 
 DeVersan. {^TaUng Madeleine's hand,\ And now, 
 Madeleine, before I have a chance for rivals, may I 
 renew my offer for your hand and heart ? 
 
 Mad. M. DeVersan, no man on earth can do for 
 me what you have done. In one short hour I have 
 lived years of joy. That joy I owe to you. Give me 
 back my father and the love and devotion of my 
 whole life shall be yours. 
 
 DeVersan. And Madame DePierrepont, what say 
 you now ? 
 
 Marie. To this sudden resolution of my daughter 
 I can only add my hearty ap])roval. 
 
 DeVersan, To-morrow, then, your joy shall be 
 complete. Meet me early at the Soliel U'or, where 
 I have ])repared a grand surprise for some of those 
 who who have despised you. There Madeleine, you 
 shall see vour father, and you, Madame, yom' hus- 
 band. Till then adieu. 
 
 Marie and Madeleine. Joy, joy, we'll meet you. 
 Picture. 
 
 CLOSED IN IN ONE. 
 
 SCENE THIRD. 
 
 Scene. — The forest of Ardennes. Wood in one. 
 [Enter Dennis O'Grady r. h. 
 
 Dennis, [solus.'] I wonder where my new masther 
 can be. I have looked all over the counthry for him 
 and he's nowhere to be found. His horse is tied out 
 here all alone in the wo-uls with the miskatoes, and 
 nobody near the poor baste to keep him company. 
 
56 Mystery of Abdennes. Act v, 
 
 I hope it's isn't robbed and kilt the masther is. Oh 
 Dennis O'Grady it was a lucky day for ye's when 
 your old masther died down in South Ameriky, and 
 left all his property to Mr. Versong, and 1 was 
 turned over wid the rest of the goods and chattels. 
 Faith and is it goods I am ? Is it good for anything 
 ye are, Dennis, you blackguard, but to be losing 
 your masther and getting cast adrift on the world. 
 It was a mighty big load the old masther carried with 
 him into the other world. And 'twas him kilt old Mr. 
 Dubois, that made all the throuble for the Parepongs, 
 and was the rason of my differin' with old Mr. Jar- 
 vais. Troth and he's gone the long journey ; but he 
 did a good sarvice at the laving, by making a clane 
 breast of it; may Heaven be merciful to him. Och, 
 here comes my new masther, and he isnt robbed nor 
 killed at all, at all. 
 
 Enter DeVersan, L. H. absorbed. 
 
 Dennis. He seemed to be dreaming about some- 
 thing. I wonder had I better be wakin' him. I say ! 
 Mr. Varsong ; is it there you are ? 
 
 DeVersan. ^observing Dennis.'] "What! you here, 
 Dennis } 
 
 Den. Faith and I am, and I've been hunting all 
 through the v^'oods for you. I found your horse tied 
 to a tree, stamping his feet and busy wid his tail fight- 
 ing the miskatoes, and I was afraid you had been 
 robbed and kilt out here in this unlucky and outland- 
 ish counthry. 
 
 DeVersan. So you found the horse busy with the 
 mosquitoes ? 
 
 Dennis. Yes, and he has nothing to ate but 
 bushes. 
 
 De,Versan. I declare, I was so absorbed in matters 
 of business that I forgot that I had left the horse. 
 
 Dennis. Forgot the horse, did you ? \c-tside\ I 
 wonder what's the matter with the master, he never 
 forgot the horse before. I wouldn't wonder and he 
 was in love. I knew a fellow that was in love onct, 
 and he forgot to eat his breakfast for three days at a 
 time. 
 
Sct-riH o My&teby of Abdennes. 57 
 
 DjVcrsaJi. Well, Dennis, you was looking for me, 
 aiiytliinL!; wroiiL; at the hotel ? 
 
 Den. No, your honor ; only I wanted to spake a 
 word in private. 
 
 DeVersan. Well, say on Dennis. 
 
 Den. May it piase ve, masther, I've been a sort of 
 rolling stone ail my life, drifting about on say and 
 land, and it isn't nmch moss I've gathered at all. It's 
 many a long year since I've seen or heard from ould 
 Ireland and I kntnv not if Biddy O'Grady, the mother 
 of the vagabond Dennis, be living or dead ; and as I 
 have engaged ytni for my masther, and am under or- 
 ders to go back with you to South Ameriky, when 
 you are ready to lave, I want to ask you for lave of 
 absence to go over to ould Ireland and see the ould 
 m(/ther if she be alive, and let her see the illegant 
 and weH-l)ehaved gintleman her scapegrace of a Den- 
 nis has grown since he left the ould sod. 
 
 DeVersan. It shall be as vou wish, Dennis ; you 
 shall go back to old Ireland and carry with you 
 sufficient moiiev to make your old m.other comforta- 
 ble, if she be yet alive. 
 
 Dill. May Heaven bless you, Mr. Varsong for a 
 kind hearted gentleman, and may the favor of all the 
 saints be poured upon you for vour goodness to a 
 poor sthray vagabond. I'll come back, Mr. Varsong 
 and I'll stick to you and sarve you for life. Och, 
 and wont I make the ould mother happy ? I will 
 \j)iakes extravagant demonstrations 0/ /oy] [pauses.] 
 But suppose the ould mother should be de.id. Sure, 
 and that would be a sorrowful day for vou, Dennis 
 O'Grady. 
 
 DeFersan. Where have you been Dennis, since I 
 left the hotel ? 
 
 Den. On an errand for the landlord. 
 
 DeVersaji. An errand for the landlord, eh .^ 
 
 Den. Yes, sir, he wanted me to go and see old Mr. 
 Jarvais and tell him to come 'round to-morrow morn- 
 ing. 
 
 DeVersan. Did you see him.? 
 
58 Mystrby of Ardennes. Act v. 
 
 Den. I did ; and I told him all about the way 
 things had come out, and I showed him that I was 
 right all the time. 
 
 DeVersan. Right about what? 
 
 Deji. Why you see, Mr. Jarvais and meself had a 
 difference of opinion about Mr. Pare])ong killin' the 
 ould masther, and that was the rason I went to say, 
 and you had the good luck to get me alor.g with the 
 rest of the goods and chattels. 
 
 DeVersan. Indeed ; Well Dennis I think I will 
 wallv awhile before I return. You go and take my 
 horse. 
 
 Den. Take your what } 
 
 DeVersan. My horse. 
 
 Den. Oh, your horse is it } Take your horse will 
 I .'' And what will I be doin' with him? 
 
 DeVersan. Why ride to the Soliel D'or. 
 
 Den. Ride him is it? And suppose he should 
 throw me off ? 
 
 DeVeersan. What! Are you not used to riding? 
 
 Den. I am not ! I never rode but onct in my life, 
 and that was in a sarcus I weiU to before I left ould 
 Ireland. 
 
 DeVersan. And what did you ride there ? 
 
 Den. A jackass. The man that bossed the show 
 brought him out, and axed did any of the bovs want 
 to ride him. And faith said I, I don't mind if I thry, 
 for he looked as innocent as the parish praste. So I 
 got on his back and before I knew where I was, he 
 rared up behind, and began to pitch and toss like a 
 ship in a heavy say, and I was landed over among 
 the benches, with a black eye and a bloody nose; and 
 the man said why didn't you hold on ? Hold on to 
 what ? says I. His tail sez he. And he wouldn't let 
 me sez I. Then he called me a fool for trying to 
 ride a donkey before I had learned ; and I belave he 
 was right. 
 
 DeVersan. Well, if you don't care to ride the 
 horse, you can take him by the bridle and lead him. 
 
 Den. Lead him is it ? But suppose he wont fol- 
 low me ? 
 
Scene 4 Mystery of Ardennes. 59 
 
 DcVcrsau. Oh, hell follow you well enough. 
 
 Dot. lint wont the baste bite ? 
 
 J}c Vcrsan. Oh no, he's as gentle as a Iamb." Come 
 along. {Exit DeVersan, r. h. 
 
 All right, masther. I'll take the baste to the Solay 
 de"Or, if he don't lay me so low I can't get there. 
 {Exit Dennis r. h. 
 
 SCENE FOURTH. 
 J\ (--united. 
 
 Scene. — A handsomely furnished apartjnent in 
 the Soliel d'Or. 
 
 Discovered. — Henri DePierrepont r. c. Marie 
 on his right. Madeleine on his left. DeVersan 
 L. C. DuMONT at back. 
 
 J)cPierrep07it. Yes, my dear ones, once more 
 united. Ilapjiy hour. Thank God that after fifteen 
 years of toil and woe, we meet again to share each 
 other's love. The night has passed, the morning 
 breaks ; the sunlight bursts upon us, and gives me 
 back my wife and child. And to you Monsieur, un- 
 der Providence, we owe the happy solution of this 
 great myster}-. How can we ever repay the debt we 
 owe you. 
 
 DeVersan. I am doubly repaid already. The 
 plighted faith of Madeleine, supported by her mother 
 and even now ratified by you, is a reward I had not 
 thought (^f, or expected; when I left the distant 
 shores of South America, to bear to you poor suffer- 
 ers the happy solution of the Mystery of Ardennes. 
 
 DePierre. I feel M. DeVersan that I can entrust 
 my daughter's happiness to none braver or nobler 
 than you. Vou who have sacrificed so much of ease 
 and comfort and have traveled so many thousand 
 miles to rescue three poor outcasts, whom you might 
 have left to suffer, while you enjoyed the murderer's 
 wealth at ease ; has shown you to be indeed a noble 
 man, and worthy of my daughter's love. 
 
 DeVersaji. I did no more than my duty when I 
 redeemed my promise to the unhappy www, wiio was 
 the cause of all these years of woe. 
 
60 Mystery of Abdennes. Act v. 
 
 DePierre. Marie, my love, what a change these 
 years have made. When I was torn away Made- 
 leine was but a little prattling child; now she has 
 grown to be a lovely woman ; the image of her moth- 
 er when first we met, Marie. And you, with all your 
 toil and care have still found time to cultivate her 
 mind and rear her up in truth and virtue. 
 
 Marie. Yes, Henri, I have done my best. As you 
 predicted when on that dreadful day we parted, my 
 lot has l)een a hard one, yet in all my struggles I 
 have not forgot your last requests concerningher. 
 
 DePierre. And you too, good M. Dumont, did not 
 forget these dear ones, when they were left friendless 
 among their enemies, although it cost you no small 
 sacrifice. 
 
 Marie. Yes, Henri, the secret aid of this good 
 friend helped much to cheer our lonely life. We 
 owe him a lasting debt of gratitude. Though all 
 beside him, turned from us, he still maintained his 
 faith that you was innocent. 
 
 Ditm. M. DePierrepont, to me this is indeed a joy- 
 ful moment. To see ycni restored to your family and 
 friends makes me feel young again. Depend upon 
 it I shall dance at Madeleine's wedding as nimbly 
 as the liveliest in the village. I always suspected 
 that mysterious stranger who took supper here on 
 the night of the murder; and now it appears that he 
 was none other than Mesnard, and the murderer of 
 M. Dubois. I hope, now that you have returned, 
 and the cloud of suspicion has been lifted from off 
 you, that we shall long enjoy your society in Solen- 
 thel. 
 
 DeVersan. Good, M. Dumont, I am sorry that our 
 arrangements are such that your friends cannot re- 
 main long in France. The death of M. Gaillard 
 left me the sole owner of a large estate in one of the 
 pleasantest spots on earth. Thither I must return ; 
 not as I had anticipated when I left, alone and a 
 bachelor, but in my company her whom I shall 
 shortly call my wife, my Madeleine. It is arranged 
 that M. DePierrepont and wife go with us and there, 
 
Sc^ne 4. Mystery of Ardennes. 61 
 
 far from these scenes of toil and sorrow past, enjoy 
 tlie happy sunshine of the future. M. Dumont, noth- 
 ing would give me greater pleasure than to have you 
 accompany us to our new home in South America. 
 
 Duin. Thanks, Monsieur, for your generous offer 
 but I am too old and too strongly attached to the 
 soil that gave me birth. Were I younger it might 
 be different. To those who have suffered so much 
 and so long, the change must be beneficial [a knock) 
 Ah ! one knocks ; it must be M. Jarvais, he has been 
 informed of the happy turn affairs have taken and 
 I have sent Den)iis to accompany him hither. Come 
 in friends. 
 
 [Enter M. Jarvais d. f. assisted by Dennis. He 
 is very old arui feeble. DUMONT goes up and helps 
 hi7n fo7-ward. 
 
 Den. Masther Varsong ; I've brought you a young 
 convert to the truth. 
 
 DePierre. Why my old friend Jarvais ; I am glad 
 to see you here. How changed you are. 
 
 yarrais. Yes, my dear DcPierrepont, Im very fee- 
 ble. J have lived to a great age — far beyond the allotted 
 time of man. I liave just learned of your justifica- 
 tiiin and free jiardon. Old and feeble as I am I 
 con'd not rest till I came to congratulate you, and 
 humbly ask your ])ardon, and that of your good wife 
 ivm\ daughter for allowing my confidence in you to I)e 
 shaken. 15ut the m\stery, the fearful mystery, with 
 all its circumstances, blir.ded my eyes and warped 
 mv judgi\ient. ]>ut now all is clear, bright and cheer- 
 ful. Thank God. 
 
 DePierie. My old friend, you have done nothing 
 that needs my forgiveness. God bless you, old man, 
 I only rtjoice that Heaven has lengthened out your 
 span of life t(j behold this happy day. 
 
 Jarvais. God bless yon Pierrepont, God bless you 
 Madame, an.d you too Madeleine. You have been 
 doubly bKssed. I understand you've found your 
 father and a lover both. God grant it be a happy 
 union. 
 
 Mad. Thank vou, M. T^ivais, for vour kind wishes. 
 
62 Mystery of Ardekne3 Act v. 
 
 Den. And sure this is a blessed time all round, 
 since ould Misther Jarvais and myself got reconciled 
 And now Masther, 1 suppose I can go back to ould 
 Ireland and hunt up the ould mother. 
 
 DeVersaii. To-morrow, Dennis, arrangements shall 
 be made for your departure. 
 
 Dum. And now good friends, I must inform you 
 that our breakfast waits us. 
 
 DeVersaii. Stay yet a little longer; there is one 
 more to come, a specially invited guest. I think I 
 hear his step without. Yes, here he comes. 
 
 Enter Edward Dubois d. f. On seeing DeFier- 
 REPONT, his ivife and dMig/ifei-, he starts hack and is 
 about to leave in disgust. DeVersan _^'7vz-s/'.f him by 
 the wrist. 
 
 DeVersan. Stop, Edward ; rather kneel and ask 
 for pardon than attempt to fly. Read this man. 
 \Hands him a printed bill.\ 
 
 YReads.'X "DePierrepont's sentence" — unjust — fear- 
 ful mistake — his free pardon — confession of Mesnard 
 alias Gaillard, the murderer. Great Heaven ! is this 
 true? De Pierrepont, your hand. No ajjology can- 
 make amends for my conduct, but v.hat I can do, I 
 will. This bill will satisfy the whole count ry. 
 
 DePierre. M. Dubois, you did but as others did ; 
 appearances were against me and you condemned me. 
 DeVersan. Edward, my friend, in this you see the 
 danger of judging from appearances. Had this no- 
 ble man been truly guilty of the crime for which he 
 was condemned and has unjustly suffered ; his wife 
 and child should have been pitied, not scorned. As 
 it is, a wicked prejudice has made these two women 
 outcasts for fifteen long years. And now, M. Du- 
 mont, our breakfast shall no longer wait. 
 
 CURTAIN. 
 
 END OF ACT FIFTH. 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 015 785 282 6