'6 /" 6 PS 635 .29 IH392 Copy 1 The Angel of Deliverance N A Drama in Four Acts % The Angel of Deliverance. A Drama of Early Puritan Days. In Four Acts. BY E. RAYMOND HAWKES. ILLUSTRATED. PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOR. UXBRIDGE, MASS. ( "D^ - The Angel of Deliverance. DRAMATIS PERSONS. ^ X TT < An Officer of the King and Captain of Captain James Hawley, | ^,^^ Settlement Forces. Harry Hunter, . A Young Scout Roger Berwick, . .A Soldier General GoFFE, ^^^OfiP: A Regicide Billy Buckskin, . . ' . A Scout Parson John Russell, . . Minister of Settlement Hezekiah Hicks, . .A Musician Sam Jackson, Negro Servant of Captain Hawley Aaron Smith, . . .A Magistrate Chickawallop, An Indian Interpreter and Chief of Mohawks The Great Shadow, . . Great Chief of Mohawks Wottollossin, . . A Mohegan Hester Moore, . Daughter of Captain Thomas Moore Elsie Moore, . Adopted Daughter of Captain Thomas Moore Molly Webster, . .A Witch Mehetable Hicks, . . Wife of Hezekiah Hicks Hope, Faith, and Charity, . Three Little Girls Scenes laid in Massachusetts and New York. Entered according to act of Congress in the year 1808, by E. Raymond Hawkes in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. The Angel of Deliverance. ACT I. An Interview. Scene I. — Jioom in Captain Aloore^s house ; large table in centre of room strewn with papers^ tttaps, etc. ; Capt. Hawley i>i officer's dress is seated at table 70 ri ting; lays down pen. Capt. Hawley. These years of toil, of danger and wasted means, and what to show! For shame! E'en now my blood boils at the thought ! Foiled by the foe, without a clue to trace the regi- cides. Yet wait, the day must come when over confident they'll seek the light of day, and then the hated Goffe, who once was known to fame — the man who drove me from my native land to this accursed wilderness — shall learn that Fortune's wheel may turn, and they who one day sit within her favorite seat, are but the next dethroned. Enter at c, Hester. Hester. Good morning, Capt. Hawley, 'tis hard to bear the tid- ings of each day — only sad news of some settler's fate ; whose blood was spilled to appease that monster insatiate, Phillip of Pokanoket. Capt. H. Quite true, Hester, but I trust we've seen the worst of the massacres. Hes. And is the danger of our scouts, who seek for signs of war among the Indian camps, so great.'' Capt. H. O, no, even less than here within the barricades. But why do you ask.-* Hes. ijiesitatingly) O, nothing, only Elsie spoke of Harry Hunter, and thought mayhap his reckless ways would lead him into danger. Exit, c. Capt. H. And so my fair one has an interest in our scout. I often wondered what brought Hunter to this house so much; pretend- ing as excuse some movement of the foe. But here's a clue. I thought 'twas Hester's hand he sought to win. Perhaps 'twere better for him if so, for the one who comes between me and my love's path, will have to answer for it with his life. Enter at l, Elsie, with several letters in her hand. Elsie. Here's thy mail, Captain, the post has arrived at last. They have used thee well {hands letter'). Here's a letter from thy native land, which speaks as thou hast said of home. Thy mother writes a wondrous pretty hand. 4 THE ANGEL OF DELIVERANCE. Capt. H. Yes, Elsie, a pretty hand it is, and a fair hand, too, it was that held the pen that traced these lines. I have often felt its gentle caress upon my heated brow, and had I heeded its last per- suading touch I should not be here talking with you; and still with memories fond as these of home, it makes this message doubly sweet that it comes at last from the fairest hand of all. Elsie. I thank thee. Captain, thou dost praise me overmuch. And didst thou so desire to see our country that thou couldst leave thine own, leave a mother in her feeble old age, who yearned for her only son, forget all this for the sake of adventure in a wild unsettled land? Capt. H. The Pilgrims did not seek this country because they chose it for their own, nor did I. Pray, sit down, Elsie, it is not often of late that I have seen you here. Elsie. If I neglected my guest, it is because my father much more needs my care. He fails so fast that I sometimes fear he will not stay with us long. But, oh, I pray that God may spare him yet, for if he dies then I am left alone. Capt. H. No, Elsie, not alone, don't forget that whatever hap- pens I shall stand ready to aid you, to console you, I might comfort you, if you would hear me speak, might assure you that you will not be left alone. Elsie. No, I cannot hear thee now, I am keeping thee from the perusal of thy letters, and my father is always restless when I am away. Capt. H. I am sorry that your father is so ill. I should have visited him, but I believe you said he was not able to see any one. Elsie. Yes, he seems to wish no one in his room but those who wait on him. But I must go, for Hester is calling me. Exit at l. Capt. li. And so the old man is going fast. Well, that's good news. He has long stood in the way of my gaining Elsie's hand. (takes up letters') And these letters — they must be stopped Why is Elsie ever hinting that another has a claim upon my love. I half believe she guesses all the truth. Enter at r., Sam Jackson, much excited. Hits his foot against a chair which sends it with a bang against the table. Sam Jackson. Massa! Massa! Buckskin is a comin' up de walk long wid two Injins, and when I sawed 'em it dun tuk my bref away, so I could'nt say a word, and my tongue stuck in my mouf Hat as puddin', 'an my knees begun to shake so I dunno what I was about. Capt. H. Well, Sam, go let them in. Sam. Me let them pesky red-skins in? No sah. I tink too much of this yere pelt. 'Sides niggar's wool would'nt look good danglin' in a Injun's belt. ( Kiiockiin^ outside ) Capt. H. Come, come, Sam. Buckskin's knocking at the door. (/)ii/taf//ix SitNi) What I dun keep you for ? THE ANGEL OF DELIVERANCE. 5 Sam. Well, massa, I spose I have to go. But 'bout de time dat bolt is drawn, you bet dis nigger'll show a good pair of heels Exit R. (Capt. H. rises and puts on Indian plume. Sam comes rushing on at R. Capt. H. faces him and gives a yell. Sam runs around table, tips over chairs, etc., and breaks through panels of door at L. Kicks to free himself. One shoe falls off and drops on floor, inside. Buckskin and the Indians come in just as Sam disap- pears at door.) Buckskin. It air clear to me that the good Lord never meant that a niggar should tread an Injin trail. And, as the Injin tradition goes, Sam proves the origin of their race. Capt. H. And what is this yarn of which you speak .'' Buck. It air a tale known to the Injin race as long as their tribes have trod the airth. On the shores of a lake the Great Spirit first shaped the forms of three warriors fair to behold, of stature and feature all alike, and breathed into them the breath of life. Then in a cloud the Manitou appeared to them, and bade them jump into the lake and swim across. One of the three obeyed the spirit'.s voice at once, plunged into the lake and swam across, while still the lake shone clear, and stood all dripping wet upon the other shore, white and fair o' feature. The next, hesitating, waited until the waters of the lake had grown dark, so, as he swam across and stood drying in the sun, his skin was red, and a coarseness was on his features. The third warrior then swam the lake, but the waters growing black- er every moment turned his skin quite black ere he left the lake, and his features were coarse and rudely cut. Now on the shore three boxes lay. One was large, and set with rarest gems, and tied with a golden cord ; the next in size was decked with pearls, and had a silver cord around it; but the last was very plain, wrapped in hides and tied with a leather thong. Now in a cloud the Manitou appeared, and for pity bade the dark warrior choose first from the boxes there. At this he took the bundle with the golden cord, and when 'twas opened it was found to contain rude implements of toil, and the warrior's lot was to dig within the airth and find a livin' there. The Manitou then bade the red warrior choose. He took the next in size, and it contained arrows to slay the birds, and knives to kill the beasts, showing that he was to live by hunting. And the white warrior took the box bound with the leather thong, and when 'twas loosed there lay inside tools for the finest art. These to!d that he should write of his nation's deeds and paint the features of nater which the hand of God had moulded, and be the foremost of them all in the land. Capt. H. And this is their origin. Well, I must confess it con- tains much truth. Buck. Yes, true as the Mohican heart from which it sprung. But here's a Mohawk from the tribe of Phillip of Pokanoket, who fi THE ANGEL OF DELIVERANCE. seeks speech with you. Capt. H. Welcome, chief, welcome, the white chiefs doors are never shut, and he will bid his slave bring drink, — drink to show his hand is ever open. Chickawaliop. Ugh, the tongue of Chickawallop was cooled at the spring an hour ago. But he will not speak, for the rustling of many leaves would drown his voice. Buck. Ha, Captain, he wishes us to withdraw. We gladly will. Some devilish plan I reckon air afloat when a Mingo would hold converse alone. Capt. H. (To Wottollossin ) Has not the young chief of the Delawares no word for me from his fathers. Wottollossin. Though other tribes have stained their hands with the blood of the pale faces, ours are clean and we will keep them so. Capt. H. Good! Thy fathcs are wise as brave and their belts shall be filled with wampum. (Exit at R., Buckskin and Wottollossin while Chickawallop and Capt. Hawley are talking. Sam is at door trying to get his shoe, but whenever the chief looks that way he pulls back ) Capt. H. Well, chief, what flag of truce bring you from Phillip of Pokanoket? I see the war paint is washed from ofl: your face. Chic. None. Capt. H. None.'' Then what is thy mission here? Chic. When the pale faces came and settled on our lands, they filled our warrior's belts with wampum and our lands were theirs. Capt. H. I see your tongue is parched with your journey, and you- would bid me bring fire water to quench the burning there. So it shall be. Sam! Sam! Chic. No, the pale faces' drink has robbed us of our hunting grounds, and killed the cunning of our chiefs, so that the pale face says "Go" and our lands are theirs. Capt. H. No, not so bad as that. Sam! Sam! Sam looking through hole in door. Sam. Yes, massa. Capt. H. Sam, go fetch me a bottle of brandy from the cellar. Sam. Yes, sah. Chic. When Chickawallop first went on the war-path, a cliief called him a squaw. Anger 'rose in the heart of Chickawallop, and his strength grew until he who was last in his tribe is now first. And the scalp of that chief now hangs in his belt. My white brother has been wronged. He seeks the life of another. Capt. H. What! Know you where Goffe, the grey-beard has his den? Chic. A chief never speaks but once. The belt of Chickawallop is empty. The scalps of pale faces should fill the belt of a great THE ANGEL OF DELIVERANCE. 7 chief. Capt. H. And this is what you want in exchange for a clue to the den of the grey-beard.^ Chic. Ugh! Sam at door. Sam. Here, massa. (Passes in brandy) Capt. H. Well, bring it in. Sam, Me? No sah ! (Sticks his head through door and sets the brandy on the floor. Capt. Hawley picks up a slipper and throws it against door. Sam drops the bottle gives a yell '-Injuns! Injuns!" and runs away. Capt. Hawlev gets bottle pours some into glasses on table and offers to drink with Chickawallop.) Capt. H. It is the best fire water in the town. Chic. {rroh-sfin,i^) Ugh! Ugh! Capt. H. (Asi(h-) Well, I must worm it from him otherwise — The demands of Chickawallop are hard, but I will listen. Chic. When the veil of the Manitou hangs heavy over the river and land, so that it shuts out the great sun, Chickawallop will send you two braves to show you to the den of the Grey-beard. Capt. H. If your braves show me to the den of the Grey-beard, I will fill their belts and that of their great chief with wampum. Chic. The hand of my white brother is open, but the great chief does not ask for this. Chickawallop and his braves will look for their wampum in burning towns. Capt. H. So let it be. Now let us drink. (Offers drink to Chic, lo/io gral>s if and i::;iilps it doton. Capt. H. fills his glass again. ) Capt, H. Is the journey to the Grey-beard's den far ? Chic. A brave will run it in two sun's journey. ( Drinks again. ) Capt. H. Is it near the seat of Phillip of Pokanoket ? Chic. (Stiipidlv.) Ugh, near the trail of the pale faces, that passes West Rock. Capt. H. I thought so. I have long had my eye on the place and shall need no guide now. (Chickawallop, who has been leaning on the table to support him- self now falls on the floor.) Capt. H. Sam ! Sam ! Sam. (Lo(diing through door.) Yes, massa. Capt, H. Well, come in and help me get this red devil out. He's drunk — dead drunk, (I^uts foot against Chickaivallop and pnshes hijn.) and clumsy as a log. Sam. (Enters cautiously.) Me handle a Injun ? No sah ! Guess not — soil my hands ! Gets tongs, puts them on Chickawallop's coat, tries to pull him out. The tongs slip off, and Sam goes against door with a crash. Sam gets up, rubs himself, kicks Chic, knocks off his 8 THE ANGEL OF DELIVERANCE. plume and sees scalp lock, grabs hold of it with tongs and pulls) Sam. Dat's the hitch, {Chickmvallop squirms rouiuL) Big chief brave, he no squaw. Capt. H. Stop, Sam, stop ! Sam. No odder way to handle lujuns. Pulls him out at r. Capt. H. Ah ! Fortune's wheel is turning, slowly turning, and at each revolution I see my way more clearly. Poor devil ! Does he believe I would leave my post when a heavy fog hangs over the land, and let him steal in beneath the shadow and massacre the people here ? No, no; he thinks I will, and it is well, but I'll to the den of Gofife at once. Even his dizzy brain is half-way clear from the soaking of that grog. Then let him plot. He'll find with all his cunning I'll meet him with the bayonet's point. And so with Goffe, at last within my grasp, and with this clue to Chickawallop's plot, I'll make myself the hero of the hour, and then the respect that once I woke in Elsie's heart, will come again, will warm, and grow into affection and love, and triumph shall be mine. Curtain. The Attack. Scene II. — Small church at r. corner. Scene on l. side of church shows a rude hamlet in the distance, with a forest in background. A fog veils the stage. The bell of the church is ringing as the cur- tain rises, and continues to ring until all the settlers with their families have entered the church. The men carry muskets. Parson Russell, followed by his wife and children, completes the arrival of the worshippers. The door is partly closed and the accents of the preacher voice is heard raised in prayer. Enter at L., Moll. Ad- vances to center of stage looking back and muttering to herself. Then raises her hand warningly, and points toward church door and laughs mockingly. Molly Webster. They come, they come, and their broom-train sweeps the cobwebs from the skies. Pray on, pray for your sins, for ye are doomed — doomed for your sorcery, doomed for your mocker}', for you scoffed at the words of old Mull. She told you she saw in a dream the fiends incarnate riding on waves of fire and sweeping the grey veil of morning before them. They come, they come, and soon their yell will strike on your ears like a mocking echo to your prayers. Ha ! ye that called me a hag and a witch, and threat- ened me with justice! But where does justice fall? Would I warn you again? Ha-ha-ha! Pray on, pray for your sins, for innocence and death soon meet. They come, they come. (The fog lifts, and the sun's rays glance along the stage. Rushes THE ANGEL OF DELIVERANCE. 9 on from L. Berwick throws open the door of the church.) Roger Berwick. To arms for your lives! The Indians are upon us ! Parson Russell {From chiirch pulpit^. Arm! In God's name, arm! (The settlers appear at the door of church, armed with muskets just as the yell of Indians is heard at extreme l. The men advance toward center of stage in confusion. H. Hicks rushes off r. with fiddle hugged to breast) Hezekiah Hicks. Fly! Fly! You'll all be killed. The town is alive with them ! (The scenery now lights up representing a burning village.) Ber. To the garrison, or we are lost. (A shower of arrows sweep the stage and the settlers are about to retreat. Enter Goffe.) Gen. Qoffe. Halt! With such confusion you are lost! Forward! Smite the enemy for you lives and your homes ! (The Indians advance upon stage at extreme l. A hand to hand conflict ensues and the Indians are swept from stage. During the conflict singing is heard at R., and continues while the noise of the conflict is heard. As the Indians are swept from stage at l. Parson Russell returns toward r. entrance. Enter at r., Capt. Hawlev.) Capt. H. What fools are you to gather in the fold and wait the coming of the shearer? Par. Captain, I was about to kneel to thank the Lord for all his mercies. Will you join me in my humble prayer.^ Capt. H. Thank the Lord! Why you had better curse the evil one, who breeds such cunning in the red man's mind. Par. Captain, you were untimely gone from your post, but the Lord sent his deliverer to us. Enter at R., Hunter. Harry Hunter. Captain, a grevious day is this to us. Capt. H. What! Have captives been taken ? Hun. More, Hester and Elsie Moore have been carried off by the Indians ! Par Poor lambs! Oh! this is dreadful ! Capt. H. Dreadful! It is damnable. How were they taken? Hun. At home, where they were in attendance upon their sick father. Capt. H. Had I been here, they would have been the last to come to such a fate. Hun. I am sorry that you were not. There were but a few to defend their home, and they sustained grievous wounds as well as defeat. Capt. H. And the old man — was he killed? 10 THE ANGEL OF DELIVERANCE. Hun. Killed and scalped. Capt. H. The odds are much against us, but we with a few brave men will start upon their track at once, for they must be found at any cost. Hun. At once, at any cost. Capt. H. And pray good Parson, but wait us here until our re- turn. We seek thy blessing ere we depart. Par. I will bide my time in humble prayer. Capt. H. and Hunter exit l. Enter at R., Hicks. Hicks. O, they have carried her oflf — carried her off! What shall I do! She was all I had! Par. Be calm, you should thank God your life was spared. Hicks. O, sir they have carried her off — carried her off! Par. Pray tell me at once whom they have taken captive. Hicks. O, sir, 'tis my good fiddle I loved so well they have taken away! Par. Well, be calm, if all you have lost is but an old fiddle of a few pounds' cost, for we have sterner duties to attend to now. Hicks. It was worth the world — it was worth my farm! Oh! they'll break her weak back, and spoil her fine voice ! Enter Mehetarel Hicks. Mehetabel Hicks. Come, come, Hezekiah, don't take on so, you have me left to love, you know. Hicks. O, go away! Go away! Don't come so near! You never to me were half so dear. Enter Molly Webster. Moll. Ha, Parson! Why is thy flock huddled yonder? Has the wolf ravaged them? Par. We were in great peril, but the Lord sent a deliverer to us. Moll. And were old Moll's words those of a witch ? Why are the houses smouldering yonder, and where has the deliverer fled ? Par. We know not whither he has gone. He vanished as mys- teriously as he appeared. Moll. And none have followed his steps. None could but a witch. (Enter Capt. Hawley, Harry Hunter, Sam Jackson and several settlers.) Capt. H. And who is this deliverer of whom I hear so much? Par. We know not, Captain, nor should we attempt to discover that which the Lord would hide from our eyes. Moll. Even a regicide would come to the rescue, when he knew his own life to be in peril. Capt. H. What! Par. She is old. Captain, and her mind has been turned by this onslaught. Why listen to her words ? THE ANGEL OF DELIVERANCE. 11 Moll. Yes, wh}- should he care if it were angel of deliverance or regicide ? Capt. H. Peace, hag! Pushes her off R. Capt. H. Well, Parson, our number still lacks one good man, who will brave the perils of the march. Enter at r., Berwick. Ber. Then let me go, for danger is my dearest friend, and strife, tierce strife — why, 'tis a boon companion of mine. Capt. H. Well, so be it, though thy services are greatly needed here. A man like you true to his duties will aid much in our success, and perhaps among the skulking devils along our trail you'll find sweet revenge for all your wrongs. Ber. Thank you, captain, perhaps I shall. Hicks. O, Captain, take me! I shall die without my fiddle! Capt. H. No, Hicks, our company is all enlisted. Sam. Massa, massa, let him go in my place. I don't care 'bout de glories of de march. Capt. H. No, we must be off. Hicks. O let me go! Let me go! I can fight Injuns. (^Takcs an old kiiive from his pocket^ See! {Party starts to vwtc off stage. ^ Par. God be with you and lead you. Sam. (^Looking back to Hicks.) Why don't you pull away. 1 would if I were you. (Hezekiah Hicks pulls his head out from under Mehetarel's arm, wig comes off showing bald head. He runs off l. Hicks. I'll find her now! I'll find her now! Meh. {Fol/o7oiiig.) O, Hezekiah! O, Hezekiah! Don't go! It will break my heart. (S/iakcs Jist.) Comeback! Comeback! Curtain. 12 THE ANGEL OF DELIVERANCE. ACT IL To THE Rescue. Scene \.— Broad trail iu forest with risiiii;; ^roiDid behind. Billy Buckskin and Wottollossiti arc standing on the (duff above. Buck. Ha! There they air, a comin' through the forest lumberin' along like untrained children which they air. Why a man brought up where murmurin' winds have soothed him to sleep upon the breast o' mother nater would find his way along that trail as careless an' easy as 'twere some settlers road. There's that young Hunter known to the forest an' her ways a boundin' along like a painter. I reckon he thinks I be a man whose jedgment is triflin' consarnin' Injun's ways. Ha! I'll break a twig from off this tree, an' it will cheer em up a bit. {Goes down breaks off a twig and throjos it into the trail then goes back to blujf.) (Enter at R., Capt. Hawley, Harry Hunter, George Berwick, and Sam Jackson.) Hun. I tell you, Hawley, this trail is all a sham. All day we have pushed our way through forests void of all signs of recent march. The broken twigs that hang along the way have had time to wither, dry and deaden since they were snapped by human hands. Back then, I say, to where we met that scout, and take the other trail, for I believe though he be one of my calling and have a face that seems full of honesty still I believe he's but in league with Chick- awallop. Capt. H. Come, Hunter! Come, not so impatient. You need a little military discipline. Am I not right? {Picks up twig.) I'll stake my life that it was snapped less than an hour ago. See, you are but a boy, and lack the patience that years will bring. Sam. Now, Massa Harry, I dun believe yer right. Dat's jest what I'se been tellin' nigh on two weeks. All the rest of de regiment 'cept us dun gone home. So I say go back, clear back home, for de Injuns dun get your scalp. Dat's no 'sper'ence I want. (Buckskin gives a yell and Sam yells '■'■Injuns .'" Hunter sees Billy Buckskin and Wottollossin and covers them with his gun.) Hun. (Loudly.) Come, old man, speak quick, show your colors, or I'll knock a splinter from off your bony shank. Buck. Not so fierce, my boy, to taint a friend with dark suspic- ion. Ha! Good news is ours to tell. Come up here, and see a trail as fair as the King's highway. Capt. H. O, no, you must think us mere children to let you lead us into some ambuscade of Chickawallop's. Buck. Well, look at that air, an' say if the Lord o' mercy is not on our side. (Tosses doiun kercheif.) Capt. H. Yes, its Elsie's kerchief! How oft' I've seen her wear it! Say, Ikickskin, have you seen anything of Hicks? We lost him on the march two nights ago. THE ANGEL OF DELIVERANCE. 13 Buck. (Comes dmon to trail?) No, he's sartin fallen prey to some skulking Mingo. They are as thick on these borders as saplings in this forest. And they are all lookin' for pale face scalps. Sam. De Lor' sakes ! Ain't I glad Ise no pale face! (Enter Hezekiah Hicks, clothes torn, and very excited. Has fiddle under arm.) Hicks. I've found her. Captain ! I've found her ! {Hugs fiddle to /lis I'reast.) Capt. H. And where is the enemy encamped.'' Hicks. I couldn't tell you, sir. I couldn't tell you, sir. My joy it was so great I forgot to look. Capt. H. Then where did you get that fiddle.? Hicks. O, sir, when I left the camp two nights ago, I thought I would just go a little way and look for my fiddle, but I had hardly left the camp when I met a bear, an' it scat me so it turned me all around (laihirh aroiaid). Then I tramped and tramped until I heard some voices in the woods, and I saw through the bushes a camp, and Elsie and Hester Moore. Now I was thinkin' how I should save 'em when in sight came Chickawallop, and a carryin' on his arm my fiddle. Then he began to dance around the girls and throw his tomahawk at 'em as they stood bound against a tree, an' then he took my fiddle and drew the bow across the strings, so that my poor fiddle made such unearthly noises that I could scarcely stand it, sir. But I wait- ed until it was dark and all but Chickawallop had gone to sleep, and as he sat upon a log I crept up behind him, armed with a cIuId, and hit him on the head, grabbed my poor fiddle and run and run until I found you here. Buck. It air sartin the enemy are encamped within a few miles' march o' here. So jedgment is down on their camp to-night before Chickawallop who knows the forest's every turn, slips from our grasp. Hun. Right, old man! Come on! We'll start at once, and Hicks shall be our guide. Hicks. No, I won't go. I'll have one good tune on my fiddle first. Capt. H. Well, we'll grant that much, and Sam shall da^ce a jig. Sam. {Hotddiiig around.) I can't dance, Massa, my feet all wore out trampin'. Capt. H. (^To IVotto/tossiii.) Come, Wottollossin, take his scalp. Dat nigger are no airthly use. ( lVotto//ossi?i begins to da nee about Sam flourishing Iiis tomahawk and Sam danees for all lie is 7ciorth.) Slow Curtain. The Rescue. Scene 11. Clearing in forest. Campfire burning. Seated around 14 THE ANGEL OF DELIVERANCE. fire Chickawallop and several braves. A little to r Elsie rests against boughs piled near a tree. Hester bends over her, offering her some food, which has been cooked at the fire by one of the squaws, and brought to her by Chickawallop. Chickawallop stands near, looking on. Time, night. Hester. I pray you, Elsie, take a morsel of this venison. It will overcome the fatigue, which now hangs heavy on you. Elsie. No, Hester, dear, I cannot eat, and were I hungry, the hand that brought it is enough to make it poison to my taste. {Chickawallop gestures threateningly and goes to L.) Hes. Do not speak of him so scornfully, Elsie ; you make our danger doubly great. But I'll go, and with my own hands prepare your meal. Then you'll not refuse to eat. Elsie. How can I speak of him but with loathing .^ Thou know- est what cruelty we have suffered at his hands. But it is not of this that I complain. Dost thou think I could taste of food from the hands that flayed the scalp from my dear father's head ? O, stay with me, Hester, I am numb with weariness, and it gives my faint heart courage to hear thy voice. Chic. {Crosses to Hester.) See how she droops as the flower up- rooted from mother earth. Hes. A heart as cold as stone speaks from its depths of irony. Chic. But are the ears of the black hair open.? A great chief came to her once with sweet words on his tongue, and her ears were closed. Hes. Speak on. Chic. He told you how like the frail flower uproottd your fair sister would droop and finally die, and, .see, a great chief's words are wise. Hes. But, wretch, why torture me with this? Have I not twice the eyes to see? Chic. But the hand of Chickawallop is open. He will send the drooping flower back to the wigwam of her fathers, if the dark hair will go and cook the venison of a great chief. Hes. {Aside.) Oh ! Heavens ! I fear she will die ! Hope of rescue gave me the heart to refuse the base plan a week ago. Would Heaven sanction such an act now ? No, no, I must be firm.— A great chief should look for his squaw among the daughters of his own people. Chic. Chickawallop has built his lodge by the side of a great lake. One day, when his heart was soft, he went and looked into the lake and asked the Manitou who should fill his heart? i'he Man- itou showed him the face of a white brother's daughter The com- mands of the Great Spirit must be obeyed. {Turns away.) THE AN(;KL of deliverance 1;3 Hes. O, Elsie, did you hear his words ? What shall I do ? Elsie. Spurn him ! Could 1 go back to my home and live with the guilt of such a sacrifice upon my soul ? No, no, I would die first. Chic. {Turns, /ilssi's.) Then die ! {Hurls tomahawk, which strikes ill the tree alwTc.) The vengeance of Chickawallop shall scorch the pride of the pale faces. Bind them braves, and pile the fagots about them. {Seized and bound.) Hes. The wrath of the great chief has burned away the heart of the black hair. She will listen to his words, but he must give her time to consider. Chic. A chief never speaks but once, but a squaw's tongue is often heard, and has many answers. Will the dark hair go to his wigwam ? Hes. At the rising of the sun she will come with her answer. Chic. The tongue of the dark hair is forked and full of cunning, a great chief should not wait so long. {Picks up a hurnin):^ brand.) At the burning of the fagot, if the dark hair will not go, its last fiame shall kindle the fire at her feet and at the feet of the frail flower. (Chickawallop stands with burning fagot in hand. Hester Moore with eyes raised to heaven in prayer. Elsie Moore sings. Chic. holds the fagot until it has burnt to the last notch. Elsie's song ends.) Chic. {To braTes.) Kindle the fire at the feet of the frail flower, and round her chant the death song, for the winds of the morning shall strew her ashes o'er the ground. {7'he brakes li^^ht the fa_i:;ots.) Hes. Hold, chief! Stay thy hand! I — (Report of guns at l. Chickawallop and braves fall. Rush on from L., Harry Hunter, Captain Hawley, and Roger Ber- wick. Hunter goes to release Hester, and Capt. Hawley and Berwick release Elsie. Billy Buckskin, W(jttollossin, and Sam Jackson at extreme l. Buck, loading gun. Chic, jumps up and runs off at R. Wottollossin dashes after him. Buck. Captain I told you without boastin' 'twere best to leave this cunning chief to dance to the death song of my musket. You see you have not even maimed him. Sam I alius said a Injun had more lives than a cat You'd better go aroun' 'an knock all these on the head 'fore they jump up and run off. Capt. H. {Lookin;^ at !:^un) Well, then it was the fault of my piece for I am sure my aim was true. 16 THE ANGEL OF DELIVERANCE. Hun. No, no 'twas the fault of your heart. Base villian, you meant to let this skulking devil go. But, you shall answer for this! Curtain. ^ 'Ai. ■r,,^'^w*-4-4-i<^*=^-* x"\\ THE ANGEL OF DELIVERANCE. 17 ACT IIL Watches of the Night. L Scene I. — Forest scene. At L. of stage entrance to cave. Small brook running across R. corner. Capt. Hawley stands resting on his gun as Elsie Moore comes toward him from entrance of cave. Capt. H. Are they sleeping soundly? Elsie. Yes, but why do you ask, Captain.? Capt. H. Because it is for your interest that I should. Elsie. But I do not understand thee. Thou hast so haunted me with this ghost of mystery that even now when we are within a few miles march of the settlement I cannot close my eyes to sleep. Capt. li. It is well that you should not — well that you have not to-night. I have kept this secret from you knowing the trials you have had to bear have already preyed too deeply upon you. Still, to what avail? When I have spoken to you of those things nearest to my heart, you have turned to me a deaf ear. 1 am not one to be thus trifled with. You do not know your mind. You do not know even whom you are. If you did, no mighter accusation could rise up against you than the words you have uttered. Elsie. But why dost thou link my life with that of the regicides? Why should I be made to suffer thoughts of their peril? What con- cern is it of mine? Capt. H. More than you think. Tell me, do the early recollec- tions of your parents bring before you those faces you have learned to call father and mother? Elsie. Yes: Capt. H. It is natural that they should. Still, I must tell you that you are deceived. For those who took you when you were a mere child and brought you to this country, and with whom you have lived as their daughter, were not your parents. You were sac- rificed to them by your mother, and brought here that you might console the heart of one whom circumstances had thu.s far separated you from. Elsie. And who then dost thou say is my father? Capt. H. Goffe, the regicide. Elsie. But why have I not been told of this before? Why has he been made to suffer the lack of a daughter's love. No, I will not believe it. This is a snare thou hast laid to entrap an innocent girl. Capt. li. Call it what you choose, since you have learned to re- ward kindness with suspicion, and love with indifference, for I repeat that this is a matter of deeper concern to you than you think. Fur- ther, I will prove it. {Takes papers from pocket.) Here are papers which give me authority to search out, to arrest, to bring to justice, if need be by force, yea, by the taking of life — Goffe — your father. You will understand something of my zeal in this matter, when I tell you that I consider him not only an enemy of the crown but an enemy of mine. You may ask what stayed my course when success , 18 THE ANGEL OF DELIVERANCE. had so nearly crowned my efforts. It was my love for you. I saw that his disgrace would be yours, and while I might have gloated over the end I had at last been an instrument in bringing him to, it was put aside by the realization that if I struck him I should also strike you. This I could not do. Elsie. But if thou lovest me why dost thou thrust again and again where thou hast so deeply wounded ? Why hast thou taken this hour, this place, to tell me of such things.' Why did not he whom I have called father tell me of this, as he had no hope of recovery. Capt. ii. Because he still clung to life as we all do. {lakes lock- et from pocket.) Here are further proofs of my words, which you have so doubted. Upon my return to the town after the Indians had attacked it, I came upon the mutilated body of your foster parent which they had not wholly robbed of life. As I bent over him he rallied at the last moment, recognized me, drew this from his breast, and with his dying breath exhorted me to give it to you at a time when I saw fit to do so. The hour has come. i^Hauds locket to Elsie.) Elsie. And why at this hour.? Capt. H. To show you I speak the truth. Does that locket bear the name you now bear? Elsie No. Capt. H. It bears the name given to you by your parents — Helena. Elsie. That is the name engraved upon the locket. Capt. H. Love, it has been said, suffereth much, endureth much. Still, the time may come when that love may turn to hate, and re- venge be the sole ruling of that heart. You may look at this matter as blindly as you choose, but still you cannot help seeing that Goffe, the regicide, your father, the so-called Angel of Deliverance, can himself be delivered by you alone. Troops of the King are waiting orders. Those orders are not mine but yours. Elsie. O, let me think! Why dost thou follow me so harshly. Capt. H. Because I love you. Yes, think of what I have said. Think seriously of it before you dare refuse me again. Curtain. Watches of the Night. II. Scene 11. — Same as Scene I., Act III. Berwick as sentinel stands near cave. Ber. When darkness spreads her wings, a calm seems to rest upon the forest wild, disturbed only by the gaunt pines that moan and sigh like some poor soul in troubled sleep. But why should THE ANGKL OF DELIVERANCE. 19 such a frail sweet one toss and moan as if the weight of some great sin were on her soul, when heaven knows 'tis pure and free? Passes to l. Enter Elsie, passes to l. Ber. Where are you going at such an hour? Do you not know that none go my way to night without a pass? Elsie. But I pray thee, let me go. I cannot sleep and would wander in the woods to set my mind at ease. Ber. But, Elsie, do you not know that danger lurks on et'ery side? Elsie. Then let me go. 'Tis what I seek. Ber. What you seek? Elsie. Yes, — danger, — death, — anything to lift, but for the mo- ment, this burden from my heart. Ber. Elsie, you are talking as in a dream. Elsie. O, I would to heaven it were a dream! Ber. Elsie, have you not learned to trust me? Speak, and let me share a grief to great too bear alone. Elsie. Speak, ask these cold immutable rocks, whose very forms would rear from their mossy bed if the elements of their kin grated as harshly on their nature as doth the life of one whom fate has de- creed to unite me in that which I can not forget, cannot smother with irony or anger, or move with appeals of mercy. Can only buy with silence and with self. Ber. O, sacrifice most cruel! Is there a God that such a thing canst be ? You have not, — you will not take such steps. Elsie. But thou knowest not what thou askest. If the Lord has willed it so, it must be. . (Goes off?) Ber. Stay, but let me speak, before you cast yourself upon the altar where flames will lap with hungry tongues at so fair a prize, and feed with ravenous eyes upon those who broken-hearted follow in your steps. I must tell you of the grief that for five long years has bow- ed down my soul with a sorrow so great that not a ray of hope's pure light has entered in. I have lived to wash away with blood the bitter memory of parents and sweetheart slain by the ruthless foe. Yet each act of vengance has made my heart more full of bitterness, until across my path an angel came to light the darkness, to warm my heart to show me that life still held some blessing for me. That angel was yourself — yourself alone, who has kindled the first spark of kindness in my heart for five long years. O, Elsie, will you leave me and let that little spark of love of life, which is my all, die away? O, do not say "No." Think before you answer me, for by your words a human life is lifted up to heaven, or weighted down to hell. Elsie. O, this is more than I can bear! Thou knowest what must my answer be. I vain would break this chain. Its weight is more horrible than felon's fetters. But who is there on earth to de- liver me from such a bondage? Enter General Goffe. Ber. The Angel of Deliverance ! 20 THE ANGEL OF DELIVERANCE. Elsie. Goffe, the regicide, my father ! O God, is it true ? Do not stay, for there sleeps one with papers for thy arrest. Qoffe. Peace, child, peace, the Lord will protect his own, or if the hour has come when he would deliver me unto mine enemy, why should I mourn since in this land there is no kith or kin of mine to weep over an unmarked grave ? Elsie. No kith or kin.' Then his words were false. Goffe. Methinks, I see, and can lift the veil of misery from your eyes. I was aboard the ship on which your parents sickened and died during the voyage to this land. That locket you now wear was given to your foster father to give to you when you should become of age. Dying by savage hands he was untimely cut off with a sweet message, which has been used for means how foul I know not. I only know that God has sent me here to tell you that yonder villain has in England a wife, and children who ask for their father. 'Tis near his hour of watch, and when 'tis on go to him and tell him this, and if it send not the hot blood rushing to his face in shame, or if in the coolness of his villainy he tells you you are mad I will be at hand to deliver you, and though I know he doth prefer my life to your love and would seek it, to-night I swear all claims with which he would bind you are broken, though it be my last mis- sion on this earth. Curtain. Watches of the Night. IIL Scene III. — Same as Act III, Scene I. Capt. H. Ha, my hour of watch is nearly over, yet I will not wake them. Another hour I'll keep. 'Tis good to muse the hours of night away with thoughts so sweet as mine. Enter at R., Elsie. Elsie. Captain, pardon me, I heard the last words that thou ut- teredst. Perhaps thou wert thinking of thy wife and children that wait in vain for thy return. Capt. H. No, Elsie, they were of you, of you alone. Elsie. Then I must ask that thy villainous thoughts persue me no longer. Capt. H. I do not understand what base slanderer has been fill- ing your ears with such a loathsome tale. Believe it not for it is false. Elsie. Captain, there is no need of further words. Thou know- est well that all I say is true. All ties of affection that thou wouldst bind me with are broken. There is another bond which thou hast pledged to cherish. This much I have learned from one who would not soil his lips with a lie. E.\it at r. Capt. H. This is Hunter's fiendish work. He alone knows this secret of my life gained from my lips as he watched by my bed, while THE ANGEL OF DELIVERANCE. 21 I was delirious. But did he not swear that he would guard the se- cret well and carry it to his grave? I could kill him now but I will wait. Oh, boy, you are an accomplice of the devil. Men have said that I am. Well we shall see who is the foremost in his craft. (Enter at l., Chickawallop. Capt. Hawley turns to cover him with his gun, but sees who it is, and advances to meet him. They sit on log.) Chic. A great chief has come to smoke the peace pipe and call his white chief brother. Capt. H. You are welcome, but the white brother's mind is clouded and he would ask a wise chief's counsel. Chic. My ears are open. Let my brother speak. Capt. li. The hand of the paleface brave who sleeps yonder would have slain you but your white brother kept you for his counsel. Chic. A great chief will not forget. He will obey his brother's words. Capt. H. Good, the great chief's words are never false. Go take the dark hair who sleeps yonder and bear her to your people, but mark me well, harm not a hair of her head. My vengeance is for another Her brave will follow her to slay your braves, as he has done before, and bring her back to his wigwam. But a great chief is cunning, and his heart is hungry with vengeance. His squaws shall point their fingers at this paleface and spit upon his brow, and his young braves shall tire themselves with his torments, and his warriors shall shoot their arrows into his flesh. A great chief will not forget the words of his white brother. Chic. Ugh, ugh. Capt. H. When you have sent the paleface to his Manitou, bring the dark hair back to the wigwam of her fathers and your white brother will fill your belt with wampum, {lakes gag from pocket mid /lands to Chickawallop.') Here take this you have used it before. Take her away quickly. You need have no fear of alarm. Go, she sleeps at the mouth of the cave. Forget not the words of thy white brother. (Exit at R., Chickawallop. Capt. Hawley listens for any sign of detection.) Capt. H. All is well. How this will make young Hunter rave and curse ! How it will grind at his heart ! I might have shrunk from such a deed, had he not betrayed me. Enter at r.. Buckskin. Buck. Ha, Captain, I thought I heard the sound of footsteps, and thought you had fallen asleep at your post but I see that all is well. Capt. H, Yes, all is well. 22 THE ANGEL OF DELIVERANCE. Buck. Then these old ears o' mine for once have played me false. Capt. H. No, Buckskin, they are as true to nature's voice as is your eye to her beauties. (Enter at r., Hunter.) It was Hester's step you heard. She has wandered from the camp, though I implor- ed her not to go. She said her mind was ill at ease and she would be alone. Hun. And how long has she been gone from the camp? Capt. H. Half an hour, perhaps. Hun. And you have let her stray so long where danger is, with- out giving one word of alarm ? Capt. H. Well, if the truth must be known, I slept at my post, and had just awakened as Buckskin entered. Perhaps she has now returned to the cave. Has ample search therein been made? Hun. I awoke, and found her gone. That was what brought me here. Buck. I'll take a torch and search the cave. Exit. Hun. Hawley, if I had thus neglected my post, you would have well upbraided me. Capt. H. Then why were you not on watch half an hour ago? Then all this would have been avoided. Hun. But it was your duty to call me, if you wished to be reliev- ed. Enter Buckskin, Berwick, and Elsie. Buck. Hunter, there air no sign of your fair one within the cave or air the marks of her foot prints freshly made, but as my heart were alius known to speak the truth, and my tongue could never crook a lie. These eyes which were trained to see human footprints since a boy tell me that moccasin prints are on the soil and freshly made. And what air this? (Holds up a fcatJicr.) I found it at the mouth of the cave, an' by nater's God I swear it air but a feath- er from the plume of Chickawallop. Capt. H. Come, why all this parley? Come, Hunter, let us search the forest near for her. Hun. Halt. My search is ended here. I read her fate in the depth of your evil eye. It were too base a deed to hide alone in your blackened heart. Here is villainy. We have been betrayed. Judas! Go to your fate. (^Dashes fist agiiist temple of Capt. Hcncley.) The jaws of hell are yawning wide to receive your sinful soul! (Capt. Haialey reels and falls near l>rook. Elsie runs 07>er, dips water from />rook and bathes his forehead. He opens his eyes.) . Capt. H. (Faintly.) Ah, Elsie, you would not desert me. You love me still. THE ANGEL OF DELIVERANCE. 23 Elsie. No, I never loved thee, but I could not bear to see thee go down to thy punishment with the stain of such a sin upon thy soul. Capt. H. (Jia/Si's himself to cUnnvs and pushes Elsie away.) Then leave me. Leave me here to die alone. {Falls back.) Curtain. '^//t^-: ^c .jo ^ ^ ^''»!r« ^ tare ^ ¥^?^:^i (/<,,/// WM\}y^'j//^^ 24 THE ANGEL OF DELIVERANCE. ACT IV. The Council Fire. Scene I. — Indian council fire. Chiefs seated about fire in centre of stage. Enter from wigwam at r. between two braves, The Great Shadow. The Great Shadow. Why have ye called The Great Shadow from his lodge where his face has long been hid from all save the Manitou? Chic. Because your words are wise, and your braves will not lis- ten to him they have called chief. 0. S. Has not the voice of The Great Shadow told his braves to bury the tomahawk.' Would you stain our hands with the blood of this paleface ? Chic. My father has spoken, but he has not heard that the hand of this paleface is stained with the blood of our warriors. Q. S. The mind of Chickawallop has been filled with the ven- geance of Phillip of Pokonoket. He has sat so long at his council fire that the peace pipe has fallen from his lips and is broken, and his heart is full of hate for the palefaces. No, ye have heard my words. Let the young brave go back to the wigwam of his fathers, and let the dark hair go with him. Our hands are now empty, but the palefaces will fill them with wampum. Enter at l., Hunter, bound and between two braves. Chic. {To Hunter^ Go. The voice of your fathers calls you, but the dark hair shall stay and fill the wigwam of a great chief. For she is mine. Hun. It is a lie. You stole her from our camp. Send her back and I will die at the stake. Chic. See, is not one brave worth a dozen squaws.'' His heart is the heart of a paleface and his tongue is forked. He would not go back to the camp of his fathers without the dark hair. Hun. No, curse you, no! For she is mine, and The Great Shad- ow will give her to me Q. 5. {To Hunter.) That which Chickawallop has brought into our camp as his captive, even The Great Shadow cannot take away, but he will spare thee from the stake. Hun. {^To Chickawallop^ May the vengeance of the Great Man- itou be upon you, you thieving, lying devil, for I swear as I live, you shall never pollute her life! Chic. A great chief is wise. He told you the tongue of the paleface was forked. You have heard his words. If we should send our braves back with him the palefaces would speak to them with a voice of thunder, and the Hurons would call us squaws. This dog of the palefaces shall die, if by no other way, then by my hand. (Raises tomahawk. Wottollossin leaps into the camp, and cuts the thongs of Hunter. Hunter throws the two guards to the ground. THE ANGEL OF DELIVERANCE. 25 and rushes off L. followed by Wottollossin, who is captured.) Chic. My braves have captured a squaw and let a paleface go. The cunning of the Mohawks is asleep because they would not listen to the words of Chickawallop. But take this dog of the palefaces who though his skin is red follows their warpath and feeds from their table. 'I'ake him and let the squaws burn him at the stake. Curtain. A Witch Scene. Scene II. — Small graveyard on r. side of stage. A few trees l. c. corner of stage. Path running from L. c. to R. f. through cemetery. Moll is seen wandering among graves as curtain rises. Enter L. E. Capt. Hawley. Moll. Ha, Captain, the last to see you depart, the first to wel- come you home. {Advances tmvards Capt. Hinvley. They stand under frees.) Capt. H. Away you infernal witch! Why do you oross my path again ? Moll. And where is your darling.'' Why did she come leaning on the arm of another.? Capt. H. Away, I say! Why will you taunt me with such things? She shall yet be mine. Moll. Old Moll, told you you would lose her, and you called me a witch. Ha-ha-ha. The stranger too shall slip from your fingers. Capt. H. Curse you, be still, or I will kill you! Moll. Kill old Moll, the witch! Ha-ha-ha. No, you would not kill her. She will turn your path of thorns into one of roses. Capt. H. Well, speak out. What have you learned of the stranger ? Moll. He was the deliverer of the people. Capt. H. But was not this the clue I gave you, and have you so idled away these months that this mystery is no nearer its solution? Moll. Old Moll a witch and idle! Ha-ha-ha! Do mysteries stay with those who sweep the cobwebs from the skies ? Capt. H. The infernal witches take you if you are not one already. Moll. Stay, and at midnight you shall see. Capt. H. No, I will not. Cannot I tell a thunder storm when its near. And do you think I am fool enough to stay and be drench- ed by the rain ? (Gro7C's dar/,'.) Moll. A thunder storm! Ha-ha-ha! But a train of witches sweeping the cobwebs from the skies ! They come, they come ! They will tell you where to seek for the stranger. Capt. H. Curse you! Will you not quit these mummeries and speak out? Thunder be^^ins to ndl and /tghtjimg to flash.) 26 THE ANGEL OF DELIVERANCE. Mol!. See you the path yonder? Capt. H. Yes. Moll. 'Tis where he walks such nights as these. Capt. H. And the hour? Moll. At midnight. The hour when witches revel the highest. Capt. H. As you value your life, do you speak the truth? Moll. Life? What is life to old Moll, the witch, who has ten lives to lose? Capt. H. But, curse you! If you deceive me, I will kill you ten times. Moll. Yes, I have seen him many a night sitting by yonder grave, his head resting in his hands. A child could kill him then. Capt. H. Enough, leave me, and if I succeed return for your re- ward; but if this is a mere deception, never dare to cross my path again. Exit Moll. (General Goffe appears, passes slowly down the path, and sits by grave. Capt. Hawley creeps up with dagger drawn. It grows dark, then there conies a roll of thunder and a flash of lightning, showing Capt. Hawley standing over grave with dagger in hand, while Goffe has disappeared.) Capt. H. Damned by the ages! Foiled again! I believe he has turned into a witch himself! Curtain. Found. Scene III. Shore of a lake. To right on a little elevation is a wigwam. Seated in door of wigwam is Hester, who is absently looking over the lake where the sun is just setting. Enter at l.. Hunter. Looks toward sun. Hun. 'Tis fit, old Sol, that thy face should be flushed this even- tide, for mine too is flushed warm with the flood of victory. Red is its color, blood-red, its stain is on my hands — upon my sword. It is a devils blood — yes, the gore of Chickawallop. And heaven would not bid me wash away this blood which fed a life so vile. But hark! Again the noise of musketry tells that some poor devil who in his cunning has hidden 'neath the cloak of death, has under the shadow of the coming night tried to steal away, and met his fate. Well, let them die — die by the hundreds — and yet they might live for all I cared, if I could but find my Hester. They told me that the village of the Mohawks lay near the border of this lake. Was it all a lie? Ah, no! Yonder is the village where the squaws weep for their warriors slain. {Turns Unvards r. and sees Hester.) But heav- ens ! O, Hester, Hester! Can it be, or are my eyes deceived by the failing light of day? (^Draivs near. Hester turns her head and looks at him with a 7'acant stare.) O merciful God! would that I THK ANGEL OF DELIVERANCE. 27 had found her dead ! Then I could have wept over her bier for a soul in its purity untimely fled. Could have called her innocent, could have called her faithful, and known that to the last she kept her heart pure and true for me. O, Hester! Will you not speak, and tell nie that they drove you to such a fate, and I will forgive, forget and love you still.' {Hester looks aicay to^card setting sun.) I see. 'J'hese weeks 'mongst savage hearts have turned yours also. There is but one hand now that holds my destiny and that is mine. (Draws dagger from belt and is about to plunge it into his breast. Enter at L., Buckskin who grasps Hunter's hand. The dagger falls on ground.) Buck. No, it is mine. Have you too gone mad, and would you leave her here to awake to reason, and weep o'er your cold brow? Go to her. It is not too late. See how she stares, noticing no one, even you. Her mind is in another world, and you alone can bring it back. (Exit at L. (Hunter goes to Hester, sits down beside her and takes her hand.) Hun. O Hester, Hester darling! Do you not know my voice? O speak — sptak to me Hester! Hes. ( Wanderiugly looking across lake ivhere the sun has just gone out of sight?) So beautiful — beautiful ! I thought I caught a glimpse of angels there, and their sweet voices called to me. Hun. No, it must not be — you must stay with me Hester. I should die without you. Hes. But why did you come to keep me here when I heard them call my name? Hun. No, Hester, no. It was I who spoke your name. It was Harry — Harry your lover — who called you. Hes. Yes, they told me that it was Harry who called me, and that was why I wanted to go. Hun. But he is here — here by your side, Hester, and speaks to you. Hes. Why do you tell me this? Why will you keep me here! He must be there. {Points across lake.) Chickawallop told me they burned him at the stake. O my poor, poor Harry! (JfW/>s.) But he is happy now. Hun. Hester! Hester! Do not weep. He has come to take you home — Take you home darling. {/Cisses her /i/>s.) (Hester's head falls upon his breast, and she weeps. Looks up through tears.) Hes. {Hesitatingly.) Harry. Hun. Yes, it is Harry. You know me, Hester. Hes. Harry, Harry, my own dear Harry! I knew that you would find me. Enter at l.. Buckskin. Hun. Yes, yes, but give our faithful scout the praise, for he de- 28 THE ANGEL OF DELIVERANCE. serves it all. Buck. No, he wants no, desarves no praise. The good Lord should have it all. But I will guide you back to your home. Curtain. Home Ac.ain. Scene IV. — Home of John Moore. Sam is standing near the center of a broad lawn in front of house, leaning on a rake. Sam. I tell yer, Ise powerful glad to get back into dis yer civil- ized land once more. Dem pesky red devils, I nebber did like dem nohow, but dis yere scalp Ise going to wear for a charm jes' long as I live, (s/iakcs smaU scalp tuft fastened to a big leather jvateh-chain) to show I took one scalp on dat march. I don't care if I did take it off an Injun after somebody else shot him — guess if I hadn't kicked him in de shin he got up an run away. Comes near scarin' me every time I look at it — makes a nervous man like me tink some debil jest crawled up de leg of your panta- loons an' jest stickin' his head out over you waistband, but I don't care. Ise going to wear it anyhow. I wonder where Massa Hawley went to after Massa Harry dun knock him flat. I thought he dead sure, but he got up after a spell, an' went off lookin' mighty pale, as if dat blow dun knock him where he got a peep into some place or odder. But I don't care Ise havin' a good time workin' for Massa Moore. Enter at l., Hope, Faith, and Charity. Hope. O, Sam, won't you tell us a story? Sam. What! Do yer want ter hear bout de Injuns? Faith. No, Sam, it always scares me when you tell about them. Charity. And when you yell like them, Sam, it makes my heart beat awful fast. Sam. O, dat's nufifin.' You ought to heard ten thousand of dem yell way I did one day. {Aside.) Went an' hid in a hollow log and didn't dare come out for two days. Hope. O, Sam, what makes you wear that horrid old scalp ? I wish you'd burn it up. Sam. Burn dat up. Misses? No, dat is de only scalp I took in de war. I dun going to keep dat for my grand-children to play with. Faith. But, Sam, won't you sing us a song? All. Yes, please do, Sam. Sam. Well, I spose I sing jest one, den you run away. Dars going to be a double weddin' in dis yere place. You see long as de Injuns dun burnt up Misses Elsie and Hester's home. Massa Moore der uncle going let dem have his fine mansion to be married THE ANGEL OF DELIVERANCE. 29 in. So Ise got to fly aroun' an' get dis place slicked up. (S///ji[s. Childroi clap their /lands.) Hope. Please sing just one more song, Sam. Charity. Yes, please do, Sam. Sam. Well, I reckon dat ye children tease me so to sing, dat de Lor' be callin' me pretty soon to come and sing for his angels, and I reckon dar not a powerful lot better den you. So I'll sing jest one more song. (Sings a short song which ends up with a whoop. Children run off L.) Sam. {^Laughingly ^ Guess dat dey nebber come back to ask me to sing again. Exit at r. (Enter at L., Hezekiah Hicks, and Mehetaiiel.) Hicks. Come, come, Mehetabel, hurry, hurry, we are the last ones. I told you it would be so and you kept me back just so I wouldn't get a chance to play on my fiddle. Meh. O, nonsense, Hezekiah, you care more about your old fid- dle than you do for me. I am just melting. Come, don't hurry so. (Pulls him back under her arm. They enter house. Enter at L., Parson Russell and Billy Buckskin. Buck. Well, Parson, this air the first weddin' I ever went to, but somehow I couldn't go back to scoutin' without seein' the good Lord's blessin' on them. Enter bridal party headed by Hope, Faith, and Charity carrying a device of flowers. Enter Aaron Smith in Magistrate's dress. (Enter Goffe.) Qoffe. From the door I will watch this blessed union, though from the hearts of men my life is barred. But what is this — this faintness that overcomes me now? (^Sinks into shadow of door.') (Enter Moll.) Moll. Marvel of marvels, marvels grow! Wonder of wonders, wonders never cease! Spirit of the departed, with craft of the witches! Thrice from my path hath he vanished away. Slipped from my grasp like a phantom at midnight — faded from my view like the fog of the morning. Thrice appeared, thrice deceived, thrice defeated, broken my spell forever. (Enter Capt. Hawley, with musket in hand.) Moll. Hot as a bloodhound you follow his trail. Capt. H. Yes, with fangs impatient and sharpened. Speak, quick, hag! Which way did he go? Moll. Whither. I know not. Ask the fog that melts before rays of the morning. He vanished as sudden. Capt. H. {liaises sivord to strike.) Enough of mummeries, of deceptions false and foul. Speak, quick! Life and death balance on your action. A grain of truth, would outweigh the one, — a word of deception and thy soul is speeding to its doom. Moll. No, no, there are lives upon which your revenge would be 30 THE ANGEL OF DELIVERANCE. sweeter, for the blood of old Moll would flow in rivers before you, horrible, ghastly, unearthly. Her spirit would trouble your sleep, until your soul would yearn for the torments of hell, and death with its dreaded grip would seem the touch of an angel. But strike ! Strike where he who has robbed you of love, robbed you of life, rob- bed you of vision unclouded, but kill her and you would send his soul to a torment that demons would .shrink to share. Capt. H. Who? Moll. Thy darling, whose breath, was like the fragrance of roses, whose eyes were like the sun of the morning, whose hand was like the touch of an angel, and whose soul the purity of lilies, and yet her heart is anothers. Ha-ha-ha. Who said, "She shall yet be mine?" {^Points toward house?) But see, the rites of earth now bind her forever to another. Capt. H. No, never (Rushes to door of house, throws it open and raises musket to fire. GoFFE rises from shadow of door.) Exit at r., Moll. Qoffe. I have saved her life from your demon grasp once. 1 will again. (^Stjikcs up musket at the iiioineut it is Jireit.) Capt. H. {llirows down niushet and grasps sivord.) Your hand has saved her life, but the death-blow shall fall on you. Qoffe. {Draws s7ciord.) No, by my sword, defend yourself. My arm is strengthened by a God of justice, and by this I know your doom is settled. (^Fenees a moment, then plunges sioord into Capt. H., who falls .) Qoffe. My God. How this deed has shattered my frail strength. (Sinks upon ground. Harry Hunter, Billy Buckskin, Roger Berwick, Par.son Russell, Hester and Elsie Moore, and others appear at door of house.) Hun. 'Tis Hawley, I knew no other heart could be so filled with malice. But he is gone. {Sees Goffe) And who is this? Par. Great God ! It is Gofife — again our deliverer ! Elsie. ( Who has gone to his side and stoops over him.) But see, how cold he is ! I fear that he is dying. Canst thou not speak ) How often I've thought of thee and longed to do thee some kindness for all that thou hast done for me. Qoffe. Dear child, you can now. Elsie. O, tell me what it is! Qoffe. 'Tis but a childish fancy, awakened in an old and broken heart, that longs for the gentle touch of dear ones I shall never see — a bitter cry for one caress of love. {Tears gather in Elsie'' s eyes.) I have felt these pangs before. Do not weep, for they will soon pass away. {Elsie smooths haeh his hair, and kisses his lips.) THE ANGEL OF DELIVERANCE. 31 Qoffe. (iod bless you, dear child! My heart is now at peace with all the world, for at last I see. (Raises himself to elbows.) Elsie. What do you see? Qoffe. (Clearly.) 1 see— at last 1 see — tlie Angel of De- liverance ! Curtain. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 016 212 178 9