h TH E LOYAL LEAGUE. A DRAMA IN FIVE ACTS. DICK STEELE AND A. C. MONSON. SCENE: TEXAS, 1862-1872. Acting Edition. < AUSTfX, TEXAS: TEXAS iSlFTINGS PUBLISHING COMPANY. 1883. A X^j^!XXX X- ^% ■r^A^l-. J,^ JL^^JL^^.&. S. Jl.^.^. R ITT THE LOYAL LEAGUE. A DRAMA IN FIVE ACTS. BY / DICK STEELE AND A. C. MONSON. SCENE : TEXAS, 1862-1872. Acting Edition. AUSTIN, TEXAS: TEXAS SIFTINGS PUBLISHING COMPANY. 1883. Entered according to an Act of Congress, in tlie year 1883, by DICK STEELE AND A. C. MONSON, In the office of tlie Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C. Press of E. W. Swindells, Austin, Texas. TMP96-007188 CHARACTERS REPRESENTED. Judge Joseph Brinley — A cliivalro.js Southerner. Henry Burnham — A Northerner ; schoolmaster and physician. \ Colonel Burnham — Officer in Union army. ) Daniel Brinley -Brother of Judge Brinley. A Texas planter. Lew Wallace — A desperado ; "has killed his man." Joe H\rt — A Texas Ranchero: " To-morrow the sun may be shin- ing, although it is cloudy to-day." Hank Bassion — A companion piece to Lew Wallace. ToBE — Ne;^ro servant. Goes trom " badness" to " wussness." Dr. Bilger — Physician in Addleville. Diva Brinley — Only daughter of Judge Brinley; in first act aged eight, in second eighteen. Serena Todd — A ringing bell(e) of Addleville. Very intense. Mrs. Brinley — Wife of Judge Brinley. Guards, Villagers, Members of the Loyal League, etc. TIME OF REPRESENTATION— THREE HOURS. COSTUMES. Judge Brinley. — Act L, Scene I. — Black dress suit and white vest. Scene II. — Confederate Colonel's uniform. Act II., Scenes I. and ///. — Brown jeans farmer's suit. Act III, Scene II. — Same Act IV.. Scene II. — Same. Act V., Scene II. — Rich modern business suit. Daniel Brinley. — Act /., Sce7ie I — Gray business suit. Act /., Scene II. — Ragged Confederate uniform. Act III, Scene I. Ragged suit; long hair; old blanket over shoulders; long cav- alry boots; spurs. Act V. , Scene I. — Same. Scene II. — Black dress suit. 4 THE LOYAL LEAGUE. Henry Burnham. — Act II., /Scene I. — Gray sack coat, business suit. Hcene II. — Same, with gray overcoat. Scene III. — Blue suit; blue flannel shirt; black tie; long boots. Act III, Scene I — Same. Act IV., Scene I — Gray overcoat; light fur liat. Act F., Scene I. — Same. Scene II — Black suit. Lew Wallace. — Black pants, long boots, gray flannel sbrrt, red tie, belt, long gray sack coat, wide brimmed hat; red hair. Joe Hart. — Act 11, Scene I — Gray pants, leather legixins, blue flannel shirt, short gray sack coat, light sombrero. Scene III Same, without leggins Act III, Scene II. — Same. Act IV., Sceiie II. — Same. Act V., Scene I. — Same, with leggins. Scene II. — Black dress coat, yellow vest, soft black hat. Hank Bassion. — Sombrero, red shirt, black pants, gray sack coat, leather belt ToBE. — Act I, Scene I. — Black swallow-tailed coat, white vest, white neck tie, black pants. Act II, Scene I. — Old striped, patched pants, gray wig, checked shirt. Scene III — Same. Act IV., Scene I — Same, with ragged coat and hat. Act V, Scene II — Same as Act L, Scene I. Dr. Bilger— J^c^ III, Scene II. — Black professional suit, silk hat. Act IV, Scene I. — Dressing gown and slippers, night cap. Col. Burnham. —Federal Colonel's uniform. Diva Brinley. — Act I, Scene I. — Child's light pink dress; hair curled. Act II., Scene I. — Simple, but tasteful toilet; hat and shawl. Scene III. — Grey dress, neat collar and tie. Act III, Scene II. — Similar to Act II., Scene I. Act IV. , Scene II. — Same. Act V., Scene 11. — Kich evening toilet; bracelets; pins and earrings. Serena Todd — Act II., Scene III. — Rich, dark dress; handsome jewelry; gold watch and chain. Act IV., Scene II. — Rich street costume. Act V., Scene II. — Rich, dark evening toilet. Mrs. Brinley. — Act I, Scene I — Rich toilet and jewelry. Act 11. , Scene I. — Faded grey dress; neat cap. Scene III. — Same. Act v., Scene II. — Rich evening toilet. PROPERTIES. Act I., Scene I. — Rich lounge; library table; tropical flowers in vases; notes and documents; ink bottle and pens; lamps; bottle; glasses; chairs. Scene II. — Muskets; camp stools; stretcher; three swords and belts; tents; camp fires. Act II., Scene I — Gun; rough table; clock; chairs; cupboard; dishes; dish pan; water pail; tin cup; rude pictures; simple wild flowers; note for Lew Wallace, and silver dollar. Sce7ie II. — Crippled table; rough benches; gavel; candles; papers; report of Lew Wallace; bottle of whisky; watch, for Boggs; pistol in BurnI am's overcoat. Scene III — Same as Scene I, with basin of water; bottle of medicine; needle, thread and cloth for Mrs. Brinley; embroidery work for Diva; fan for Serena. THE LOYAL LEAGUE. 5 Act III., Scene I. — Iron box and papers; sack of coin; old spade. Scene II. — Three letters; cane for Doctor Bilger; knife and pistols. Act IV., Scene I — Lij^hted candles; pistol; medicine case. Scene II. — Knife; pistols; fans. Act v., Scene I. — Roll of paper; three pistols. Scene II — Elegant lounge; table; easy chair; bottle of wine, vial of medicine; glasses; tropical flowers. SYJsropsis. ACT I. SCENE I. Home of Judge Brinley. Arrival of Daniel. Tobe ujanifests a desire to go to " wah " on account of the chick- ens. Last parting instiuciions of Judge Brinley to his brother. " Who guards the home helps him who wields the sword." SCENE II Federal camp in Mississippi. Capture of Colonel Brinley. Story of the spy. Death of Daniel Brinley. ''In war or in peace, in sunshine or shadow, my brother shall be avenged!" An interval of ten years is supposed to elapse between the first and second acts. ACT II. SCENE I. Cottage home of Judge Briidcy. Tobe receives company. The acceptf'd lover. Renunciation. " The Northern sword has robbed you of your fortune and your kindred!" SCENE II. Lodge room of the Loyal League. Report of the destruction committee. Withdrawal of Henry Burnham. A severe case of apoplexy, "I'll bang him by the law!" SCENE III. "Would they hurt an unarmed man in time of peace!" The new schoolnuister discussed. '' I am free, though, to say, While through time we now whirl, That there s something intent^e In a red-headid girl." "Julia, pay the young man, and let him go." '* My love shall live — but go!" ACT IIL SCENE I. Lew Wallace as a sleuth hound. "To what weak straws will clutch a drowning man " SCENE II. Public park in Addleville. The anonymous letter. The compact. "To-morrow the sun may be shining, although it is cloudy to-day." ACT IV. SCENE I. Tobe on the tramp. Quarters for the night. SCENE II. Street in Addleville. " He a murderer! Girl, you lie!" One more renunciation. The " gamest girl in Texas." 6 THE LOYAL LEAGUE. ACT V. SCENE I. Wood scene near Addleville. The hunter and the hunted. Lew Wallace not at home. "They don't hang men with money." SCENE II. Called from labor unto rest. The bequest. Not here, but up there are "peacefully assembled the brave and the noble from both sides of Ihe battle line— the only true Loyal League!" STORY OF THE LOYAL LEAGUE. The political ortjanization known as "The Loyal Leanue," was one of the principal factors in the reconstruction movement some years after the war. In some of the Southern States there were branches of this clan composed of very good and conscientious men; but there Avere many more of these societies that were made up cf, and led by, the very worst of unprincipled desperadoes and lawless citizens. Such were, in most cases, the various local or- ganizations of that name in the State of Texas. The Loyal League, as connected wi'h the plot and development of this drama, is no fiction, but a stern reality; and the authors have, for obvious reasons, refrained from recording or presenting the worst outrages to life and property perpetrated by these bauds of vultures While the ostentatious object of these societies was doubtless a patriotic and noble one, still, many wolves donned the sheep's clothing and made themselves the subjects of a by-word of terror throughout the entire State. THE LOYAL LEAGUE, ACT I. SCENE I. — A room in the mansion house of Judge Brinley, elegantly furnished in /Southern style. Judge Brinley discovered seated at library table, r. c. , examining papers; Mrs. Brinley and Diva on sofa, n. Judge B. Well, my dear, if Daniel is prompt in responding to my letter, I shall be able to leave to-morrow night for my regiment. He is due to-day. Mrs B. So soon! O, Joseph, why .re you so determined on your resolve? Diva. O, papa, don't go to war, and leave mamma and I all alone. Judge B. No, no, child. Trust me, I will not leave you all alone. Your nncle Daniel will protect you both. Yes, my darlings, remember it is not I who seek this broil; but could I — could I con- tentedly remain aloof from those, our neighbors, whose destinies are so woven in with ours that to remain at home would stamp one as an ingrate, a dastard, and a coward? Mrs. B. God's will, not mine, be done. O, Joseph, and yet — and yet— Judge B. But think, dear Julia, your lot, though seeming hard, is lighter far than that of thousands of brave Southern women who are left to fight for bread at home, while husbands, sous and brothers battle for the Southern cause. Mrs. B. Would to Heaven, Joseph, that this deadly strife could be averted. JuBGE B. True, Julia, but now it is too late. Willingly would I sacrifice half my inheritance and liberate every slavfe rather than raise my hand against my fellow countrymen. But even that would be of no avail. Remember, I place you in Daniel's hands, and con- fide to him my earthly all But it is time that Daniel came. [Enter Tore, l. 1 e.] Tore. Gemman at de doah, sah. Judge B. Show him in. I have no doubt it is Daniel. [Exit Tore, l. 1 e. 8 THE LOYAL LEAGUE. Diva. Will uncle Daniel stay with us, papa, when you have gone to war? Judge B. Yes, little one, he will stay with you part of the time. {Enter Daniel Brinley, l. 1 e.] Judge B. {Rising and crossing L. c.) Welcome, brother. Mrs. B. {Rising, comes down c.) Yes, Daniel, thrice welcome in this dark hour. Daniel B. Yes, Julia, dark indeed, but the hope for early peace must be our comfort. {Sits l. c.) Judge B. {Seats r. c.) Brother, you doubtless know why I sent for you. Daniel. To say good bye. Judge B. Yes, yes. Julia, you and Diva leave us awhile, and we will answer the call for dinner. \^Exit Mrs. Brinley and Diva, c. u. e.] Daniel. Brother, these are dark and troublesome times. The more I think of them, the more am I inclined to go with you. Judge B. Not so, Daniel. I called you here to say good bye, 'tis true. I also sent for you to place in your hands a higli and holy trust, my family and my worldly goods. Daniel. And do you expect me to remain and strike no blow for our country? Judge B. I would expect nothing of the kind from a Brinley; but remember, Daniel, he who guards the home helps him who wields the sword. Still, the hour may come when necessity will be the law which will force the guardian of every home on to the tented field. Daniel. And when that hour arrives I'll not be slow in answer- ing the call, {crosses l.) Judge B. I am sure of that, but now to business. {Daniel seats L. of table). First, however, I must remember hospitality, {rings.) {Enter Tore, u. c. e.] Wine. Tore. Yes, sah. {hesitates.) Judge B. Well, Tobe, what are you waitini»- for? Tore. Massa Brinley, I'se done heard dat yuse gwine ter do wah. Am dat a fac? Judge B. Yes, Tobe. Tore, I wish I — Judge B. Well, what is it you wish? Tore. — Why, I wishes dat I— ilat — er — dat — dat— Judge B. Well, out with it. Tore. — I wish I was a — a — a — Judge B. What the devil is the matter with you, Tobe? Tore, (c.) I wishes dat I — was— a — gwine along — along — along — along wuff you, massa — boo-hoo! boo-hoo! {Exit u. c. B. Daniel. Poor fellow. He feels badly. THE LOYAL LEAGUE. 9 Judge B. Yes, and I shall have to sneak away like a thief in the niirht, or have the whole plantation boo-hoointi^ at my heels. Daniel. That was just about my situation when 1 left home. My boys imagined that I was going to the front to join a regiment, and th3y followed me for miles with questions, protestations and lamentations. Judge B. In these times it is quite natural that they should feel unsettled and apprehensive. [Enter Tobe, u. c. e. Places tcine on table.] Judge B. Here you are. Tobe. Yes, sah. Judge B. Is this the old St. Julian? ToBR. The very ancientiest wine in de hull cellali. Judge B. Let's see. Do you know how old tliis wine is? Tobe. Yes, sah. You know when Miss Diva was born. Judge B. Eight ye.irs ago tnis summer. Tobe. Yes. Wal, I drawed it off and bottled it dat berry sea- son. And hit's been bottled ebber since. Judge B You can go now, Tobe. (Tobe hesitates.) Well, go. Tobe. But ain't yer gwine ter — ter — Judge B. What. Tobe. Ain't yer gwine ter reconsider? Judge B. Reconsider what? Tobe. Why, reconsider an' stay hum from de wah, or else take Tobe along wid yer. Ise a lively boy among de chickens. Judge B. Among the chickens? Tobe. Yes, sah. Yuse gwine to be a colonel, I heah, an' a colo- nel ain't no 'spectable colonel onless he has plenty chickens at his headquarters, and Ise de lad whattle fetch 'em. Ha! ha! O, yo! yum! Judge B. No, you stay here, Tobe, and see that the family have chickens, and your duty will be done. [Exit Tobe, u. c. e.] And now, brother, to business. Time is precious. When our father died, four years ago, he left us a joint inheritance of one hundred and forty thousand dollars, the entire amount of which has, by your request, been in my keeping until now. This is no time lor invest- ment. Daniel. That is true. Judge B. Therefore it becomes necessary to secure this money in some safe place. I have here drafts and bills of exchange on English banks to the full amount of your seventy and my seventy thousand dollars. Upon the conversion of this paper into gold, American if possible, if not, Mexican gold, your share, as well as mine, must be buried in some secret place, for we know not what day the State of Texas may be invaded by the Federal troops, and pillaged from the Red River to the Rio Grande. You, Daniel, will bury it in a place, the selection of which I leave to your good judg- ment. Make a complicated cipher map of the locality, after a care- ful survey, and secure the map in as safe a place as possible. Daniel. But you will assist me in this? 10 THE LOYAL LEAGUE. Judge B. Impossible, brother. I leave to-morrow. Daniel. Shall we not inform our wives of the place of conceal- ment? Judge B. No. By no means. Villains can frighten secrets out of the best of women. It is well known throughout the whole vil- lage of Addleyiile that v/e possess this money jointly, and many a sharp eye will be on the lookout for it. In times like these we hardly know friend from foe — the patriot from the traitor. Should the Southern cause be lost — which God forbid — we still shall have a competence for our families, {rises.) [Enter Mrs. Brinley and Diva, u. c. e.] Mrs. B. Can we come in ? Judge B {to Daniel). S-s-s-h! {aloud) Yes, dear; is dinner ready ? Mrs. B. It is. {to Daniel) You will remain with us several days, brother Dani«^l? Daniel {Rises and comes doiun c.) I cannot remain long, now. I must leave to-morrow, as wife and the little ones expect me home. DrvA. Uncle Daniel, be sure and give my love to cousin Frank and Sadie. Daniel. I will. Diva, and {takes Diva's hands) I forgot to tell you that Frank and Sadie sent you a thousand kisses each. Shall I deliver them all now? {Kisses DiY a, who runs laughing to Mrs. Brinley. Bell rings.) Judge B. (l. c.) Daniel, I am not faint-hearted, but it will be a hard, hard struggle to part from these two dear ones. It will test my courage sorely. Guard them well, brother, guard them well. {All go up c.) Daniel. Brother, I will. Daniel B. R. R. c. Judge B. u. c. Mrs. B. Diva. l. c. l. CURTAIN. SCENE II. — Federal (Jamii, Mississippi, Guards r. and l. Sen- try on beat, u. c. Tents, camp fire, etc. Gut wood. [Enter Colonel Burnham and aid-d -camp l. 2 e. Guards sa- lute. Colonel Burnham and aid-de-camp r. u. c] Col. Burnham. Any news from the front? Aid. None, save that several companies of rebels are scouting down the stream below. Col. Burnham, Have you doubled the force on the picket lines? Aid. Your orders have been obeyed, sir. Col. Burnham. How far down the railroad are the outer posts? Aid. Two miles. THE LOYAL LEAGUE. 11 Col. Burnham. Has that rebel spy been seen lately? Aid. He was seen this morning, well mounted, and he received the fire of ten or fifteen men, and then apparently L'-ot oif withont. a scratch. He seems to lead a cljarmed life, sir. This is now the third time our men have fired on him. Tliis time he was bold enough to wear a ragged Confedeiate uniform. {Noise, voices otttside, l. 2 e.) Col. Bubnham. Ah! what is all this noise about? [Enter Union soldiers tvith Colonel Joseph Brinleyl. 2 e.] First Soldier. A prisoner, sir. {Salutes.) Col. Burnham. And quite a valuable one, too, I should say. ( To Brinley, extending his hand.) I see by your uniform that yon are of my own rank. Welcome to Camp Ulysses! I am Colonel Burn- ham, in command. Col. Brinley. I would much rather hear you say "good bye" than ''welcome," Colonel. Col. Burnham. I do not doubt it, under the circumstances, but I am afraid we cannot part with such good co npany. How many of our men do you suppose the Soutliern Confederacy w^ould give for your release? Col. Brinley. Well, sir, I cannot tell; not knowing the exact value the Southern cause places upon my humble aid. They have, however, several thousand of your men whom they would be glad to get rid of, as tliey f^re terrible ea'ers. Ha! ha! Col. Burnham. Yes, our men are bh ssed with good, healthy appetites, and we, also, have the wherewithal to feed them. By The way. Colonel, have you a brother in the Confederate service? Col. Brinley. I have not. Col. Burnham. The reason I asked you, Colonel, is this: We are looking out for a notorious, bold, daring and successful Confed- erate spy., We have, nearly all of us. seen him once or twice, and he bears a remarkably strong resemblance to yourself, if you will pardon the comparison. Col. Brinley. {crosses l. aside.) Is it possible that Daniel has left the old home — betrayed his trust and enlisted? {aloud) No Colonel, I have no near relative in the service. (Colonels Burn-' HAM and Brinley retire up c. ; noise outside l. 2 e , firing.) Col. Burnham. Some more commotion on the left. This prom ises to be quite an exciting day. [Enter Daniel Brinley l. 2 e., in great haste, pursued by Union soldiers.'] Guard, ^l). The spy! the spy! Halt! Col. Burnham. Fire upon him 1 [Sentry, r. u. c. , slioots Daniel, who falls R. c. Col. Burnham comes doion r. foUoiced by Col. Brinley.] CoTu. Bm.i^iMY {excitedly). Great God! 'tis Daniel. {Falls on knees over the j)rostrat6 form ol Daniel.) Col. Burnham. Do you know this man? Col. Brinley. YES! Col. Burnham. Who is he? Col. Brinley. MY BROTHER! {bus.) 12 THE LOYAL LEAGUE. Col. Burnham. Then, Colonel — I have not learned your name. Col. Brinley, I am ColonelJoe Brinley, of the Seventh Texas Infantry. CoL. Burnham. And this man, your brother, is the long sought spy. CoL. Brinley. [Ridng.] You lie! My brother could have been nothmg but an honorable soldier, true to his word, his sword and his country! CoL. Burnham. But you said you had no brother in the service. Col. Brinley. True, nor did I know he was a soldier until I saw him shot down like a dog before my eyes. [Bus. Enter Federal soldier in haste li 2. e. Soldier, iledpath, the rebel spy, has just been killed at Clinton's Bluff! CoL. Burnham. How! The true spy killed! Corporal Grind, you know his features well. Look, look at this man, dyiug. Is he not the one? [Soldier gazes at Daniel Brinley.^ Soldier. No. CoL. Burnham. Then go — haste — bring me further word regard- ing Redpath. Colonel Brinley, this is a horrible mistake if what this soldier saj'S be true. [Bus. Daniel.'] CoL. Brinley. He's dyiug. CoL. Burnham. Alas! too true; but, guards, bear him to the hospital. [Exit tivo gitards, R. 2 e., loitlt Daniel on stretcher.] CoL. Brinley. [Grosses i^.] Yes, you have shot him like a beast of prey. Now bear him oif and cast him in some filthy Yankee trench! Let him moulder away without a stake to mark his rude and humble grave! Without one word of warning you have killed an honorable soldier, chivalrous, gentle, brave. And mark you further, blue-coated assassin, not only have you taken my brother's life, but you have robbed his wife and mine; his children and my own of a humble fortune, yet our all, the hiding place of which none knew^ but he. But — what is buried treasure to the life of such a man as Daniel Brinley? Colonel Burnham, by th^ Heaven above I swear it! By the sacred name of the mother who bore us both. I swear that, should you and I meet on the field of battle, or in smil- ing peace; in open highway or under cover; in darkness or daylight; in any place upon the face of God's green earth, when I am free, it is death — death between us two ! [ Guards close iqi around Brinley.] Ay! Surround me with bayonets! Close up around; I am a prisoner and unarmed. Close in — but when I'm free and we two meet — in war or in peace — . l. p.] Mrs. B. [Sits r.] What the end will be Heaven only knows. From day to day the scanty leavings of our fortune grow less and less, and debts pile themselves on debts. Poor Joseph is no longer himself, but roams aimlessly about from pilhir to post, not knowing what to do. He has an idea now that he will be a candi- date for Congress, but the Loyal League, I hear, have sworn to de- feat him at the polls. 0, the cruelty of war, that leaves us years of desolation! The memory of the happy daj-^s gone by are bitterly sweet. If Daniel had not been killed, all would have been well. With a fortune buried somewhere, yet lost to us forever, «e eat the coarse-grained bread of poverty, and tremble for the future. Ah, poor Diva! What will her future be? Perhaps it was as well for Daniel that death released his spirit and spared him the agony of re- turning to a home deserted, ruined, and the graves of wife and chil- dren. What sad results followed the noblest aspirations. A true and loyal Brinley, he became fired with enthusiasm for the South- ern cause. He begged us to relea-e him from his promise to my husband — begged his wife and children to be brave in his absence — and we yielded. And then — And then he was shot down before his brother's eyes, and died without one word between them. [Etiter Henry Burnham and Diva, d. l. f.] Diva. {To Burnham.) Welcome, Sir Henry, to Poverty Hall. You know all fine people have halls and baronial castles. Well, we are fine people, sub rosa, you know, and 1 have named our hall Poverty, so as to retain the unities, as the play writers say. O, I am so forgetful. Mamma, this is Mr. Burnham, of whom you have heard me speak. Mrs. Brinley, Mr. Burnham. Mrs. B. {Rising andHaking his hand.) If I mistake not, you are the new principal of the academy. 16 THE LOYAL LEAGUE. BuRNHAM. Yes, madam, I have the honor of the place, and the somewhat heavier responsibility of the pupils. [Sits L.] I do not know how I shall succeed. Diva, [c] And more than that, he is almost a doctor. Mrs. B [Sits r.] Almost a doctor, Diva! Diva. Yes, he has long been studying for the medical profes- sion, and will soon practice. Mrs. B. Indeed. Diva. {Confused.) Yes. Burnham. Mrs. Brinley, though we have never met before — though you may deem my suit preposterous — myself abrupt, I have come to you with her I love, to ask a mother for her daughter's hand. I trust I have won the heart. Mrs. B. Mr. Burnham! Diva! Is this true? Diva. [Gr^osses toT,. and jilctces hand on Burnham's s/ww^c^er. ] I hope, mother that it is happily true. Mrs. B. Mr. Burnham, "this is indeed sudden. You have come to me and asked for the last remaining treasure left to our humble home. You have come like an honorable man and asked that which I cannot give alone. Her father must join his consent with mine. Gain his, and mine shall not be lacking. Burnham. Madam, a thousand thanks (rises). Diva, one victory won; I go to gain the other. [Kisses Diva, exit d. l. f.] Mrs. B. Diva, this is serious. Your father never will consent. Diva. O, mother, don't say that. You do not know how noble, generous and true HCi^ry is. Mrs. B. Ah, Diva, he may be all that, but — I have heard that he is from the North. Diva. (Sits c.) True, mother. Mrs. B. You know your father's bitterness. Diva. Too well. [Enter Judge Brinley, d. l. f. Diva goes U'p R.] Mrs. B Where have you been, my dear? Judge B. {Impatienthj). "Dear! ' Don't "dear" me, Julia. I am in no mood for it. Where's Diva? Why don't you keep the girl at home? It is now nearly night, and you know the country is as full ol vagabonds as hell is full of Yankees. (Mrs. Brinley sighs.) What are you sighing about? Going to give up the ghost? [Sits L.] Diva. ( Crosses l). I am at home, father. [Places arm around his neck.'} Judge B. Eh! Ah! Oh! Yes, yes, little girl, so you are. Where have you been? Diva. I was over to Serena Todd's, papa. Judge B. Humph! She's a fine illuminated invitation card. Her hair is as red as Lew Wallace's. A regular torchlight. Diva. Don't yv.u like Lew Wallace, papa? Judge B. NO! Do you? Diva, (Calmly). Not in ihe|least. Judge B. I'm glad of that, girl, I'm glad of that. That is the first bit of pleasant news I have heard in a long time. "Who brought you home? THE LOYAL LEAGUE. 17 Diva. Mr. Henry Burnbam. Judge B, Who's Mr. Henry Burnham? Diva He is the principal of the Academy. He boards at Mrs. Todd's, and, besides that, he is studying for the medical profession. Judge B. Where is he from? Diva. I believe I heard him say he was from Bridgeport, Con- necticut. Judge B. The devil he is ! Diva. Why , papa ! Judge B. A Yankee schoolmaster! Diva. And, papa, he — has — asked me to be his wife. Judge B. I don't doubt it. A Yankee will take anything he can lay his bands on. And what did you tell him? Diva. I told him yes. Judge B. You told him yes. Diva. And he asked mamma. Judge B. And what encouragement did you give him, madam? Mrs. B. I referred him to you, Joseph. Judge B. Very considerjite in you, madam, very considerate. Look ye girl {rises), from this hour on {Diva crosses to n), in sunshine or shadow, smiles or tears, whatever be our lot or fortune in this world below, avoid this man and all his accursed kind! You know not where you drift. I do. Ten long and troubled years have not wiped out remembrance of a cruel, cruel wrong — remembrance of the murder of my brother! Child, could you have seen the look of agony upon that noble face, the form convulsed, the gasp for breath, the dying struggle of a grand, brave man — could you have watched the closing of those eyes to all he loved on earth, sooner would you have taken to your breast a viper from the slimy, stagnant swamp than listened to the suit of Henry Burnham! Diva. [Advancing l.] But, father. Judge B. Away! The Northern sword has robbed you of your fortune and your kindred! And yet, you'd seek for consolation in the arms of one who fed the flames which have consumed our all. Go, wed the comrade of an assassin's band, and for a wedding dower, accept a father's curse. [Sits l. and covers face with hands.'\ Mrs. B. O, Joseph! Joseph! Diva, [c] Dear father, listen. Your daughter will not add one trouble to your many. Rather than wed with one — rather than give my friendship, even, unto one whom you hold as belonging to a face accursed. I'd drive a dagger to my heart and die a loyal daughter at your feet! I will see him no more. [Covers her face luith hands and turns R.] Judge B. Thanks daughter, and God bless you. O, my mar- tyred brother Daniel. [Tableau. Judge Brinley bends forioard; Diva l. , Mrs. Brinley r., of chair] CURTAIN. 18 THE LOYAL LEAGUE. SCENE 11.— Interior of old house, d. l. f. Practical window L. F. Old tables, chairs, benches, etc. Lodge room of Branch] 91, Loyal League, Town of Addleville. Tiine, 10 p. m. {Enter Lew Wallace and Major Boggs. d. l. f. Advance to table, u. c. They draw from their clothes candles and light them, and place on table by melting the ends for a base. Sit at table. Boggs l., Wallace r. Wallace produces a bottle in siltnce, and both drink.] Major Boggs. It is sorter late. Lew. How late? Boggs. (looking at watch.) Ten o'clock. Say, Lew ! Lew. Well, say on, Major. Boggs. Don't you think we are gittin' at 'era? Lew. Getting at who? Boggs. Them ex-rebel soldiers as wants all the political offices in the country. Lew. I reckon we are. Major. I know of one who is teetotally busted from away back. Boggs. Who do you mean, Lew? Lew. I mean the man I have been hunting for the last year. Boggs. Been after him for a year, eh? Lew. Camping right on his trail. Boggs. (Drinks.) Who is he? Lew. Why, Judge Brinley, the father of the belle of Addleville. Boggs. O! Yaas. An' I'm thinking you've been camping on the daughter's trail, too. Lew. Come, Major, none of that. You just lasso that lively tongue of yours, and hold fast to it. (Drinks.) You can't crack jokes about her, and stay in my company. But say, there is going to be a new member of the Loyal League to-night. Boggs. So? Who's the candidate? Lew. Henry Burnham. Boggs. What! The good looking schoolmaster? Lew. Yes. Boggs. But who put up the inducement? Lew. I did, Boggs. (Drinks.) I'm afraid he'll be a dangerous member. Lew. (Drinks.) Can't help it. I've made up my mind to have him join, and, by heaven! join he shall, even though we have to choke him into line afterward. (Aside.) And then, my proud and haughty Diva Brinley, when you discover in Henry Burnham a member of the despised Loyal League — when the old Judge knows that he belongs to what he calls "a fantastic mob of hell," your cake will all be dough, and you'll be rudely wakened from your dream of love. Boggs. You have an object in view, of course. Lew. Of course. Boggs. And may I ask you what it is? THE LOYAL LEAGUE. 19 Lew. O, yes, {sneering) you may ask — but I shall never answer. {Noise D. L. F.) Hello! The boys are coming. {^Enter several rough looking men. Hank Bassion and Henky Burn HAM, the latter with light overcoat on his arm tohich he throios over vacant chair l. Men seat themselves k. and l. and BuRNHAM. L. c Hank Bassion, u. Majoii Boggs takes position behind table c, and Li^w Wallace at l. of same. Boggs strikes table loith rough gavel three times.] Boggs. — Is there a quorum present? Lew. {Glancing around.) I think there is. Buggs. Then I declaie Branch 91, Honorable Liyal League, opened in due form, and— and — ready for biz. The first thing on the docket is report of committees. Lew. {Rising.) I beg to submit the following report. \^Reads,\ "Mr, President and Brethren of the Honorable Loyal League, Branch 91: I, as chairman of your Special Destruction Committee, am now in a position to say that good work has been done in the last week or two We have burned several miles of fence, thirty stacks of fodder, and seven corn cribs. I can also assure you that our worst enemy, Judge Brinley, is pretty well run down at the heel, and I'll bet that he don't have six bits worth of anything on the top of the earth in three months from daie. If he isn't already kiboshed he soon will be. Respectfully submitted. " Lew. Wallace. Chairman Committee." Boggs. Be there any other reports? If not, we will proceed to elect new members of the Honorable Loyal League, Branch 91. Who is the first applicant? Lew. \^Kising.] Mr, President, I nominate Henry Burnhaiu. [Lew sits.'] Hank Bassion. \^Rising.] I second the nomination. \^Sits.] Henry Burnham. iRising^ Mr. President and Members of the Honorable Loyal League: I inust beg your indulgence for one rao- ment while I declme lo further proceed in this matter. Since one of the objects of this association appears to be the persecution of a poor, though just and upright man, I cannot conscientiously go further in the matter. While I believed this organization to repre- sent true Republican principles, or rather the principle of Unionism as against Secession and tlie old rebel sentiment which should have died years ago, I was with you heart and hand. When it de- scends to personal oppression, I withdraw. [ Grosses r.] Lew, [^Rising.] But hold a bit. my friend. You knew the objects of this organization; you have taken part in our proceedings; mor- ally you are a member of the Loyal League, Burnham, [r.] I am not. No oath has bound me yet. I bid you all good night. [ Goes out l. Members rl.se in confusion. Lew. Wal- JiACE steps in front of him as if to detain him; Burnham tJtroios him to oue side viohntty and exit d. L. F.] tLEW. All aint fish that comes into this net, Boggs. So it appears. 20 THE LOYAL LEAGUE. Lew. But Henry Burnham is a member of the Loyal League, all the same, to all iutents aud purposes. [S/ts.] Hank Bm^bion {Rising). Mr. President: From Uose observation of tliini^s iioing on, I am impelled to move that a committee be ap- pointed to take charge of the United States mails as they are brought to town and leave it. Much valuable information migiitia this way be obtained as to the doings of our rebel — I mean our political ene- mies. I move you, Mr. President, tliat such a committee be ap- pointed. [/S/fo.] A Member. Second the motion. BoGGs. Good scheme! All in favor of that motion say "aye." Members Aye. BoGGS. Contrary tlie same — carried. {Baps three times) I will ap- l)oint Mr. Bassion and Mr. Vv'allace on that committee. L>^ there any other business? If not, I declare the Honorable Loyal League, Branch 9l, adjourned until the next regular meeting. [All exitD. l, F. , except Lew, who comes down ii.] Lew (r., glancmg around sees Burnham's o?;ercoa^o?z chair ^ L, Grosses L.] Somebody's coat. { Picks up and examines). The schoolmaster wears good togs Ah ! a pistol, and a fine one. ( Takes out revolver and examines it). Henry Burnham, 1871. Uenry Burnharn, 1811. Wc-nder if it wouldn't read better, Lew Walhice, 1872? Fve got bunches of pistols, but none of them engraved Henry Burnham, 187L Ho! ho! ho! The dog loves Diva Brinley, and since I have sworn the gal shall sometime marry me, it would be awkward for her to fall in love with him. She's poor, and I will keep her so. Once let her know that Henry Burnham is a member of the Loyal League and all his most persuasive power could never link her name with his Ho! ho! ho! He's struck with her; should she be struck wi'h him, he must be struck by me. Ho! ho! ho! Shoot him? O, no. {Makes motion of rope around h's neck). Hang him! {Crosses L.) Aye! stretch him by the hand of law, and then the proud Diva ilrinlo}- will thank me, her husband, for having saved her from the murderer's embrace. {Crosses L.) Yes, I'll hang iiim by the law. And this {shotving pistol), the little beauty, shall assist me. ( Pockets pistol.) [Enter Burkham, d. l. f.] Burnham. {Coming doiun l). I forgot my overcoat. {Takes it and p)uts it on.) Lew (r). Its lucky for you I hadn't locked up and gone home. Burnham. Aire you ready to go home now? Lew. Pretty quick. {Aside) Wonder if he'll miss it? I must keep him talking. {Aloud) Have you made the aquaintance of our village beauty yet? Burnham (l') Of whom do you speak? Lew. [r.] Why, I didn't know that we had more than one beauty. I call her '• my beauty." Burnham. Your beauty ! O, I understand. [Aside.'] Is it possi- ble that this creature aspires to the hand of Diva Brinley? I will find out. [Aloud.] You havn referred to — Lew. Miss Diva Brinley. THE LOYAL LEAGUE. 21 BuRNHAM. Perhaps I may congratulate you. Lew. Well, pretty near that, Schoolmaster. Diva and I under- .■^tand each other. [Crosses c] BuRNHAM. [l. aside.] And I underst:ind you. [Aloud.] Well, Mr. Wallace I congratulate you. Lew. Thanks. BuKNHAM. I wish I could say the same for Miss Brinley. Lew. Well, can't you? BuRNHAM. No. Lew. [Starting towai'ds him angrily.] YOU LIE! [Burn- II \M fells him to the floor. Lew is about to draiv pistol iDhen he checks his hand, and aside.] Not yet, not yet. [Burnham .s-tands a moment over him and then slowly exits d. l. f.] NOT YE r, NO 1' YET. [Joe H^^ht puts his head in window in f.] Joe. What's the matter, old man? Lew. Apoplexy. Joe. Better now? Lew. Yes. Joe. Well, just remember, to-morrow the sun may be shining, although it is cloudy to-day. [Diha'p-pears] Lew. [Rising?] I'll hang him by the law! CURTAIN. SCENE III.— ^a we «.<>• Scene I. Time: Emning. d. l. p. Mrs. Brinley a7ifZ Diva R Lonngei.. Serena Todd l. Mrs. Brin- ley sewing, Diva crocheting. Diva. Wliere did papa go this evening, mamma? Mrs B. He went away in company with Tobe to look for some oxen which Tobe thought had been stolen, and taken to the mili try post. Diva. Are they not staying rather late? It is after nine o'clock. Mrs. B. [Troubled^ Yes, my child, I know it is late [Goes to dock, u. R. F. and ivinds it] Diva. Do you think the soldiers would hurt papa? Mrs. B. [Coming doionB.. sits.] O, no. They wouldn't hurt an unarmed man in time of peace. Diva. But is this a time of peace, mother? Mrs. B. They call it so, my dear. Diva (Sighs.) Ah, yes, they call it so. Serena Todd. I tliiiik things are just getting too jolly for any- thing since — since — Diva. Since when, Serena? Serena. Since the new schoolmaster came to town. You know he boards at our house. O, but he's nice. He can play chess and the piano, and the flute, talk Latin and French and Dutch, ha! ha! ha! and he can do, the Lord knows what else beside, and he is just old sweetness for company. He plays the guitar. 22 THE LOYAL LEAGUE. Diva. He seems to have, also, played upon your heart strings with good success Serrna. 0, I ain't a bi' ashamed to say I like him. I couldn't help it if I wanted to. I believe I liiie him almost as well as I do Joe Hart. Diva. You had better not let Joe Hart hear you say so. Serena. {Seriously.) Joe is just too comical for anything. He calls me his red-headed girl, and I just told him tbe other day that if he meant to convey the idea that he had also a black-headed girl, I'd just like to set my eyes on her. O, I'm red headed, and I ain't a bit ashamed of it. I'm a strawberry blonde, I am. Wouldu't you like to hear a song Joe wrote about meV Mrs. B. Indeed we would, Serena. Diva. Yes, by all means. What is the name of it? Serena. {Coming down c.) Tee Red-Headed Giil. {Sings.) The red-headed girl ! The red-headed girl ! O, list to the taunts of the masculine churl: The bonny brown tress. Wins the softest caress, From dudes and from lovers; from knight and from earl. I am free, though, to say, While through time we now whirl, That there's somethin'i intense In a red-headed girl. My tresses are brilliant; they shine in the sun, They gleam in the gaslight, when daylight is done. The bonny brown tress May -w in the caress, But the red headed girl will share part of the fun. I'm free, then, to say, That I never will furl, The banner I bear For the red-headed girl. Come, now, let me whisper, and boldly declare. That the red-headed girl always wears her own hair; The late-at-night hub., Coming home from the club, Will not find it hung up on the back of a chair. So I scorn every dude. And fastidious chuil; For the warmest of hearts Has the red headed girl. [/Sferena goes l. and sits.] Diva. How pathetic! Serena. O, its touching. By the way, Joe is a great friend of Mr. Burnham's, but there is something on Joe's mind now, and I THE LOYAL LEAGUE. 23 don't know what it is. I hope it isn't some other girl. But he goes mooning around as mysterious as a — as a — as a — well, most anything you can think of. But don't you like Mr. Burnham, Diva? Mrs. B. Come, Diva, put up your work now. You must not try your eyes. Diva. Yes, mamma; I am tired [Aside.] So tired! Serena. I remember one time when Joe and I were down by the river. I teased Joe and called him an old bear, and told him that I thought Tom Bassett was the nicest boy in town. And what do you suppose he did? Diva. [ Crosses Jj.] I have not the slightest idea; kissed you per- haps. Serena. Not much he didn't. He took me gently round the waist, and tossed me in the river. Diva. And you call that comical. Serena. Well, yes, it's pretty comical. Diva. .A nd how did you get home? Serena. I didn't go home. I went down to Mrs. Hart's. They all say I'm a rattle-brained thing, and 1 leckon they are more than half right. [Enter Job Hart, d. l. f ] Gracious! Speak of the angels and you will hear the rustle of their wings. Joe. [Coming doion c] Good evening, ladies. Mrs. B. ) Diva. I Good evening, Joe. Serena. ) Mrs. B. [Bising, goes up r. and brings chair.'] Please be seated. Joe. [Sits, r. u. c] Thanks. Where is Uncle Brioley? Serena. Now, Joe, you didn't come t© see your Uncle Brinley. Joe. Didn't I? Serena. No; you came to see me home, and you know you did? Joe. Did I? Serena. Of course you did, sir. Joe. Well, if you say so. it must be so, even if it ain't so. [Noise outside, d. l. f.] Serena. Hallo! I reckon, Diva, your pa is coming home. [E^iter ToBE, D. L. f., excited, and leans against the casing. jiU rise, Mrs. Brinley and Diva r., Joe. r. c, Serena l.] ToBE. O, de Lawd sabe an' preserve us! I wishes I had a sord — I wishes I had a gun — a — a — a— cannon — anyding — ebberyding whaitle kill a man, an' I wishes de debbil had me afore dis day! Mrs, B. Tobe, what is wrong? W^here is Mr. Brinley? ToBE. De Lawd bress an' sabe us all. Yo' know he went fer ter fin' de oxen? Diva. Yes, but — quick! Where is he? ToBE. Juss outside. {Exit d. l. f., folloived by Joe Hart.) Diva. Mamma, what can have happened? 24 THE LOYAL LEAGUE. [JEnter Burnham, Joe and Tobe, bearing unconscious form of Judge Brinley, with head bandaged. They place him on lounge, l.] Mrs. B. (crosses l.) Merciful Heavens! Is he dead? Diva, (l.) No! Father — speak to me! (Bjjunb.au ap2^iies cordial to lips of Judge Brinley.) BuRNHAM. (7b Mrs. Brinley.) No, he is not dead. I trust it i.s nothing serious. Tobe, some water. (Diva and Mrs. B. bend over Judge B. Burnham chafes his hands. Tobe b7%ngs water. JOE Hart and Sl-t-tcna, r. u. c, converse.) Mrs. B. {To Burmham.) How was he injured? Burnham. I learn from your servant thnt he found his oxen at the military post — that he claimed them as his own, and that hot words ensued — and a sergeant struck him on the head with the back of his sabre. Returning home from a visit to a patient, I met Tobe, who related his story, upon which 1 procured a conveyance, and we brought him home. Mrs. B. Ten thousand heartfelt thanks. 0, how misfortunes gather fast around. (Judge Brinley opens his eyes, sees Burnham, and starts violently.) Judge B. Where am 1? Diva. Safe at home, dear fattier. Judge B. Curse the cowardly Yankee dog who struck me! But you! { Pointing to Burnharn.) Who are you? I have see a that face before! Burnham. My name, sir, is Henry Burnham. Judge B. Pla] Henry Burnham! How came you here? Serena, (l.) Why, goodness gracious! He brought you home, Judge Brinley, and saved your life. (Joe Hart jmlls Serena back, R. a) Judge B, Brought — me — home — and saved — my — life! All the evil sprits which are allowed to wander on this troubled earth have conspired against me. Placed under the obligation for my life to one who bears that pace. Julia — pay — the — young man and let him go. Burnham. What can this mean? Judge B. {Rising on erooic.) It means that I hate your face, in which are mirrored the features of my deadliest foe on earth! Burnham (l. c.) But, sir, I cannot understand. You are weak, sir. Judge B. Weak! Yes, I am weak, and, were I not so weak, I'd throw you from my door! Let me ask you a question. Did you ever know a Federal officer by the name of Colonel Burnham? Burnham. I did. He was my father. Judge B. And is he dead? Burnham, He is; but recently. Judge B. Thank God! And yet — Burnham. Hold, there, Judge Brinley! Do you know of whom you speak? Judge B, Ah, yes, too well. That haunting, torturing resem- THE LOYAL LEAGUE. 25 blance now is all explained. Upon your father's orders my brother, Daniel Brinley, was murdered — foully murdered. And you, that murderer's son, would wed my daughter, Diva! Go! Out of my humble hut where Poverty presides at the fatal bidding of your sire. You go — to never again darken its door by your baleful pres- ence! I will not owe my life to you, for you may take it now ere 1 retract one word. From sire to son the assassin's blade, no doubt, is handed down! (Burnham retreats to d. L f., turns and looks earn- estly at Diva.) Burnham. And you — you — Diva! Do you also bid me go? Diva. (r. c.) I? O, no — no, Henry! But — I — promised I would never see you more! Burnham. — You promised? Diva, (c.) Yes. Fate brought you here to-night to tempt me to repudiate my word. 1 cannot break that word and live, though crowned with love — and know my father's heart is broken. Here in this humble home — the poorest in the village — I cannot bid you stay against my father's will, and yet, 0, Henry, I would die for you! My love can live— shall live through all the bitter years to come — though we may never meet again. Will yours? But I know not what I say. Yes, go — go as my father bid you — and God bless you — you and — yours. (Falls into Mrs. Brinley's arms, wlw seats her c. solhing. Exit Burnham d. l. f.) Joe Hart. {^Aside.^ To-morrow the sun may be shining, although it is cloudy to-day. CURTAIN. TOBE. c. Joe and Serena. Mrs. Brinley. R. c. L. c. Diva. Judge Brinley. R. c. L. ACT m. I SCENE 1.— Interior of ruined, deserted house. Walls and rafters charred hy fire. Unfurnished. D. L. F. Old fireplace^ u. Practicable window, R. F. {Enter Daniel Brinley, d. l. f., attired in ragged clothes, old blan- ket over his shoulders, old, laced cavalry hoots, long, matted, grey hair hang- ing on shoulders. Owls heard hooting in the distance. Comes down R. C. folds arms, and tows his head.\ Daniel B. Ten years ! Ten long and weary years, and yet, what do I know of time? They tell me that for nine years I was mad. Am I sane now? My memory is like a tangled skein of thread, that 26 THE LOYAL LEAGUE. all these years has baffled me by day and night. But one remem- brance comes back to me now, clear and vivid. On that threshold my wife and children kissed me and bade me a last farewell. There they stood — and I, outside, bade ihem cheer up, and lightly rode away. And now, those loved ones are in heaven. To-day I sat be- side their iiraves and wept the first warm tears my eyes have yielded for many a year. But one thing more remains for me to do — one sacred duty to perform. A.nd then my spirit can float out in peace to join my loved ones in another land. [Crosses l. and looks around in troubled manner.] But how to restore that buried treasure! For months I have tried to concentrate my memory on this one point, where did I place thai map? The face of the whole country las greatly changed. Small shrubs have grown to lofty trees; iSelds and plantations have turned into wildwood from neglect, and the homes of my friends int© dust and ashes like my own. [Pauses.] The mists begin to clear away. 1 — think — ah — I remember. Thank God! [Goes totvard fireplace r. begins to clear aioay debris.] At last, and now for peace. [Pries up a stone and draws jorih a soiiall iron box. Knocks off lid loith stone and takes out a folded paper and bag of coin. Spreads the map out on floor and conteniiylates it.] There [tracing h7ies] is Boggy creek, and there the Norton plantation — and here is the hill — and there, at the foot of that hill, sixty-one yards due north from the little spring is the money. [Enter Lew Wallace d. L. F.] The money! Lew W. [Aside L. c] The money! What money? Who can this fellow be? His face has a devilish familiar look, I'll surprise him. [Aloud.] Hello! Kernel. Fine day, this. Daniel B. [Glances hastily up and suddenly folds ma]} and puts it in his pocket. Rises R.] Yes, a very fine day. Do you live in this vicinity? Lew W. No. I live in xiddleville. Daniel. At Addleville! Then perhaps you know — [aside] But I do not like his looks. I'll bridle rn}'- tongue. Lew W. Perhaps I know what? Daniel. Nothing. I was only thinking of a friend of mine who once resided there. Lew W. Which way are j'ou traveling-? Daniel. Southward. Lew W. Then we'll be company. I go southward. I have been buying cattle up above here, and am now on my way home. Daniel. Beg your pardon. Did I say southward? Lew W. That's what I understood. Daniel. I meant that I was going westward. [Aside] I fear this man. I'll mount my horse and make my way alone. [Aloud] Well, as I am anxious to reach a certain house before night, I must move on. Good day to you, sir. [Exit d. l. f.] Lew W. [r, c] Good day, sir. I wonder who he is. But, whoever he is, there seems to be money in it. I'd give sometiiing to know, and perhaps I may before many days. [Lew r. c. Enter BuRNHAM D. L, F. CoTYies dowTi L. c Aside.] Ha! What the devil brings the schoolmaster here? [Aloud.] Schoolmaster, what brings you here? THE LOYAL LEAGUE. 27 BuRNHAM. Business. Might I inquire what brings vou here? Lew W. Business. BuRNHAM. [Coming doum i.] Don't let me interrupt you. Lew W. O, I won't. Don't you worry al)Out that. [Exit D. L. F.] BuRMHAM [Crosses to R. c] A ruin — a gloomy relic of perhaps a once happy home. I wonder who that tatlered individual was I just met coming out of here. There was a strangely familiar look in his face — like some one I have seen before. What could that vampire, Wallace, be doing here? No good, I can safely guarantee. But that familiar look in the old man's face! Whom have I met that he resembles? [Crosses l. in deep thought] Ah! But it cannot be — and yet his face is very like — Judge Brinley's. I will follow him if I can keep his trail — and by questioning"^ may learn if he be — but then this Daniel Brinley died ten years ago, and by his death I lost Heaven's dearest gift to man — the' Judge, a brother, and his worldly wealth. But still that stranger's haunting face! What vagrant impulse bids me follow him? What faint and shadowy hope is here held out to me? There are ghostly premoni- tions all around — and voiv.es in the air. If it could but be he — O, Diva! Diva! — madness! To what weak straws will clutch a drowning man! [Exit D. L. F.] SCENE CLOSED IN. SCENE II. — PvMic Park in Addleville. Eustic benches in the distance. [Enter DiVA Brinley r. 1 e.] Diva [r.] I have seen him once again. He smiled, and I returned his smile with a cold and stonj'^ stare. But was it Diva Brinley? No. Her father's voice still echoed in her ear — her father's form rose up to check the first warm impulse of a loving heart. [ Crosses l,] [Enter Judge Brinley, l. 1 e.] Judge B. Well, little girl, enjoying a walk, eh. Even the poor are welcome to a morning airing in the public park. I have just been to the postofRce, and here's a letter for you. {Gives Diva letter and crosses r. c. ). Diva. A letter for me! Who could have sent it? (Looks at post )uark. Turns it over and over.) I do wish I knew who it was from. Judge B. Do you want to know, now, really — real bad? Diva. (Still turning letter.) Yes. Judge B. Well, then, perhaps if you should open it you might find out. Ha! ha! ha! That is the way with a woman. She will worry over a letter half a day trying to guess who sent it. Well, good morning. [E'Xit R. 1 E.] 28 THE LOYAL LEAGUE. Diva. This looks like a school girl's hand. ( Ope7is letter and reads.) " My dear young lady : I take my pen in hand to say a few words of warning to you. Being a true friend I would hate to see you get into any trouble. You like Mr. Henry Burnham, and 1 will say that he is not worthy of your love. He is a red-hot member of the Loyal League. He is just old pizen to us Southerners, as you well know, and you had better look out for him. Yours ever, A True Friend." [ Enter Joe Hart r. 1 e. Diva conceals letter.'] Joe. Ahem! Cousin Diva, what does he say now? Will he, positively, meet you by moonlight alone — and resume business at the old stand? Diva. Who? Joe. The victim. The one that's struck by Cupid's gentle dart. Diva. Joe, as my true and honorable cousin, can I trust you with a secret? Joe. [Melodramatically.'] May the moon never beam--ma3^ the stars never shine — Diva. That will do, Joe. Joe. That's what I thought. I was getting a little bit tired my- self. Diva. Well, read that letter. [ Gives Joe letter and crosses r. c] Joe. [l.] What is this, any way ? Diva. It is a letter. Joe. It looks more like a bad case ol delirium tremens. [ Reads letter to himself and hands it hack to Diva.] Diva. What do you think of it, Joe? Joe. Nothing, f Exit l. 1 e.] Diva. I wish 1 knew what he really does think about it; but, then, he always was an enigma. A Chinese puzzle. But why did he go away so suddenly? [Enter Joe l. 1 e.] Joe. I forgot to say, Cousin Diva, that if I were you — Diva. [Eagerly.] Well! Joe. And one-half as good looking — Diva. Joe ! Joe. That I wouldn't lose any sleep on account of that letter. ( Gives Diva a piece of paper. ) As the Honorable William H. Shakespeare says, " Look on this picture and then on that." Just compare the writing. Diva. Whj% they are identical! Joe. It does look that way. Diva. And the one who wrote this wrote the other. Joe. Yes. Diva. And — who — wrote this? Joe. Lew Wallace. But remember, cousin, to-morrow the sun may be shining although it is cloudy to-day. ( Exit Joe l. 1 e.) THE LOYAL LEAGUE. 29 Diva. {Going n.) He is nothing to me — can be nothing to me. What difference can it make whether he is a member of the Loyal League or not? But is he? And if he were, it would be but one more barrier between us. I'll school myself, obey my father's words — and yet — l^Exit-R. 1 e.] [Enter Lew Wallace a/icZ Hank Bassion l. 1 e.] Bassion. Well, before I can decide upon this question, let's see the documents. You have received some letters, being one of the Mail Confiscating committee. Show 'em up, and if there's anything in sight I'll join you. But don't go to romancing about one hundred and forty thousand dollars in gold unless you have got some ground to work on. Sliow up the letter. Lew. Here is the letter which I checked upon its flight, and brought it down on the wing. {Produces letter and reads.) Austin, Texas, June 5, 18*72. My Dear Brother: — You will doubtless be surprised to hear from me after [Enter Burnham l. 2 e.] so many years. While on my way to ' ddleville I lost the road, and at last found myself here in Austin, again prostrated with fatigue and sickness. Come to me at once, that I may restore to you the buried fortune before I die. I have the map here in my hand as I wiite. There are but a few miles between yourself and one hundred and forty thousand dollars in gold, which I buried. Dear brother come at once. In haste. Daniel Brinley. Bassion. Well, what's your plan? Lew. Secure this map. Bassion What then? Lew. Dig up the gold. Bassion. And plant the man? Lew. Correct. Bassion. .Old. man, I'm with you. Half the money goes to you and half to me. [Shakes hands, Burnham exits l. 2 e.] [Enter Dr. Bilger r. 2 e.] Bilger. Good morning, gentlemen, good morning. Lew. Morning to you Dr. Bilger. (J.j*z(Ze to Bassion). I wonder if his Royal Nibs heard anything. Damn him, he knows too much already. {Aloud.) What's the news, doctor? Bilger. (r c.) Nothing of importance. By the way, have you seen anything of the (/onnecticut Yankee quack this morning? Lew. You mean Hank Burnham? Bilger. I mean that medico-pedagogical, malpracticing journey- man sawbones, who is now practically engaged in breaking the girls' hearts and killing off his patients. Haven't seen him, have you? Lew W. [c] No, we haven't seen hide nor hair of him. [Enter Henry Burnham, l. i e.] Hello! Here he is now. Say, Burn- ham, here's Dr. Bilger inquiring after a Connecticut Yankee quack. Have you seen anything of him? Ho! ho! 30 THE LOYAL LEAGUE. BuRNHAM. [l.] Dr. Bilger, I do not desire a quarrel with you, nor will I allow myself to be drawn into any controversy in regard to the, so called, different schools of practice which you and I pro- fess to represent Bilger. [r.] No Yankee schoolmaster can come down here and drive me out of Addleville. Your handsome face, and form so like the Apollo Belvidere, may break the ladies" hearts; but you cannot set their bones and live in Addleville. The citizens have sized you up — they know your worth — and hoon will ask you to evacuate the town. [Exit Bilger. r. 2 e.] Lew W. Ho! ho! Schoolmaster, y u seem to have lost your grip. If you'd only join tiie Loyal League, your friends would rally round you. Ho! ho! ho! Bassion. (c.) Aud stick to you closer than a brother. BcRNHAM. Friends rally round me! Join the Loyal League to capture friends like you two! May Heaven guard and protect me against such friends as you. "Lew W. How's that, you Yankee mudsill! {Draios knife and adva7ices on Burn ii am.) Bassion. {Advances l.) We'll wring your neck, you cowardly, traitorous whelp. Burnham. (Draws pistol.) Stand back! Or, by the gods, you may learn that I have borne enougn. You boast that Texas rears the children of her soil to kill ou sight. They tell me here in Addle- ville that 1, tr.o, come of a family which kills. Le\v AY. Drop him, Hank! Down him in his tracks! (Hank draios recolver. Enter Joe Hart, l„ loith pistol. Lew and Bassion fall hack center.) Joe H. Fair play is a jewel! Two into one 3'^ou can't. That's arithmetic. Lew W. {Aside,) My time will come! Joe H. Tomorrowthe sun may be shining, although it is cloudy to- day. Lew and Bassion. Joe Hart and Burnham. r. c. l. c. l. ACT IV. SCENE I. — Night. Front of Dr. Bilger's residence. Fence and gate. Lights down. { Enter Tore l. 2 e. ) Tore. At las' I'm on de tramp. I couldn't eat de bread of Col- ' '^ ■ ' ... -. ^ ^^^^ De Tore. At las' I'm on de tramp. I couldn't eat de bread of Col- onel Brinley when de fam'ly was so po'. An' now I'se on de road, an' fer dis night I'll juss lay down on Dr. Bilger's gallery. De THE LOYAL LEAGUE. 31 fam'ly is all _*>iie ter bed, an' Tobe will be up wid de chickens, an' off agin. {Lies down on gallery, i^. ^low music. Enter Lew W. r. 2 e.) Lew W. The schoolmaster has gone to set a broken arm. Can he set his own broken neck? He is bound to pass this way before long, and then, my high toned Burnham, the chances are that you will pass the way of all the earth. Ho! ho! ho! You have rode me bare back, and you've drove the rowels in too deep — too deep. ( Draws revolver from his pocket and examines it.) It was a lucky strike the night I captured this, and with it. I will rid myself of two who kiiow too much — too much. Where ignorance is bliss, 'tis — dangerous to be wise. Ho! Ho! ( Reads inscription on re- volrier.) " Henry Burnham, 187L" I reckon the proud, imperious Diva Brinley will not pine for him when the hangman's noose is tightening round his neck. I hear foot steps. {Bends low and listens. Sloiv music ) 'Tis he, and n^w for the transformation scene. Ho ! Ho! Ho! ( Walks up to Dr. Bilger's door and knocks. Tore at end of gallery, l. raises and looks attentively at Lew. Dr. Bilger appeal's in the doorway hearing a lighted candle. Lew retreats to the gate, fires at Bilger, ivlio falls cen- ter of gallery Lew throws doion pistol by gate arid exits r. 1 E. Negress appears in doorway ojnd bends over Bilger. ) Negress. De good Laud sabe us! Massa Bilger's killed. Bilger. {Feebly.) Nance — I— am — dyin^-^ — murdered! Nance. O, my poor Massa Bilger! Who's de man what killed yer. Bilger. That red-headed thief and — desperado — no! no! — that scoundrel — Dr. Burnham — re — mem — her it was — Dr. Burnham — re— mem — {Dies. Nancv beside him s-obs.) {Miter BuRNH\M L. 1 E. with case of instruments. Exit Tore R. 3 E. Negress exit d. f ) Burnham. (l. c.) Who fired that shot? I saw a dark form running through the field. Some tramp. I think bent on robbery, and, doubtless, Dr. Bilger shot after liim to frighten him away This is a dark and gloomy night. {Lightning and thunder.) What makes me feel so nervous? ( Enttr two officers r. 1 k.) First Officer. Did you hear a shot? Burnham. I did, and' think that Dr. Bilger must have fired upon a tramp. {E.nt officer.^ l. 1 e J I wish 1 had my horse. \^E.i'it r. 1 e.] [Enter Tore r. :'. e.] Tore Now dere's to be mo' trubble for po' old Tobe. All de time in trubble. I done leff Ma^8a Brinley's kase I couldn't stay an' eat de las' crust of bread in de house— an' now mebbe dey'U hang me kase I happened ter be hanging aroun' here in dese untorlunate parts, when dat Lew Wallace done shot Dr Bilger. O, Lor', but dese am oflSe wicked times. Ef I go ter town, dey'll catch an' hang me, suah. Ise gwine ter take to de woods an' be a wild man. {Exit R. 1 e ] 32 THE LOYAL LEAGUE. [Enter Hank Bassion l. 1 e. ] Bassion. I have traced him here, only to lose him. What devil- try lies in that red and shocky head of his. He thinks that he has used me ail he needs, and now would shake me like a viper from his arm, and rob me of my share of the buried money. But, no, my lovely Lew with auburn hair, you'll find Hank Bassion is not so easily shaken from your throat. But I am sure I heard a shot. Perhaps, Lew Wallace, you have been at some of your old tricks again, {Negress appears at door with light.) Negress. Whar will I git help? O, whar can I git help? Bassion. {Looking over gate sees body.) Here, aunty, what's the racket? Ha, Lew Wallace, by the eternal, I have you on the hip. ( Tableau.) SCENE CLOSED IN. SCENE II.- Street in Addleville. [Enter two citizens l. 1 e.] First Citizen. 1 cannot believe that Henry Burnham did it. Second Citizen. But the pistol— his own weapon — with his name engraved upon it, found by the gate, and he himself discovered near the house, by two olficers. It looks quite dark for Dr. Burn- ham. First Citizen. It does, indeed. {Exit Citizens, r. 1 e.) {Enter Joe Hart i.. 1 e.) Joe (c.) The sun, it ma}' never be shining — because it's so cloudy to-day. {Exit r. 1 e.) {Enter Judge Brinley, l. l e.) Judge B. (l. c.) Surely, I am having more than my share of this world's toil and trouble. It's not enough that my brother has been murdered, my fortune buried in the bowels of the earth, but now my child — the idol of an old man's 1 earl — must daily pine away in secret, unavailing love for the murderer's son Have I done her a wrong? No — no — away with melting thoughts like these; and welcome, O, remembrance of that dreadful scene the day my brother died! Again in Henry Burnham I can see a mur- derer's face — those features freez- the old man's heart, and once again he's firm. {Exit r. 1 e.) {Enter Diva Brinley, l l e.) Diva. What can have happened? A strange foreboding of impending evil is in the air, above and all around me. The village is excited. THE LOYAL LEAGUE. 33 {Enter Serena Todd, l. 1 e. ) Serena. Isn't it just awful? Awful! Diva. What? Serena. Why, to thinK that he, of all the men in the world, should do such a wicked thing! I couldn't think of marrying him now, even if he should get cleared by the jury. Would you? Diva. Of whom are "you talking? Serena. Why, haven't you heard about it? The whole town of Addleville is ringing with the story. It's the awfulest thing imaginable. Diva. But, what is it? Serena. Dr. Bilger was murdered in his own door last night — shot down upon the threshold. Diva. By whom? Serena. By Henry Burnham! Diva, (c.) 'Tis false— as false as hell! Serena, (l. c.) O, Diva, don't. Diva. He a murderer! Girl, you lie! Serena. O, Diva, but his pistol was found in front of Dr. Bil- ger's house, where he had accidentally dropped it. Two policemen found him lurking near the house at about the time the shot was fired. And besides that, Diva, you know that he and Dr. Bilger have quarreled many times of late, and everybody knows that there was bad blood between them. Diva. {Clasping her hands.) That is true. {Aside.) O, God! why am I so weak ? {Enter Judge Brinley, r. 1 e.) Judge B. Diva. Diva. Father. Judge B. The murderer's brand descends from sire to son. Diva. No! no! The charge is false! He will be proven guilt- less! Judge B. No quibbles of the law can break the chain of evi- dence which binds the Yankee adventurer in its heavy folds. With Henry Burn* am hanged, my brother's blood will partially be avenged. Come, Diva, thank your father for the stern command which saved you from the guilt — the shame — Diva. {Crossing r. Judge b. c.) Say no more. I gave my word to heed your cruel mandate— and I kept it loyally and true. The alternative was this: "Go, wed a comrade of an assassin's band, and for a wedding dowry accept a father's curse!" That was the choice you threw to me , and I repressed the pleadings of my heart- beat down the passionate impulse of a woman's love- resigned all claim to rights which were my own, and threw away the one bright sift of love— the only ray of light which pierced the gloom of poverty for years. All this 1 did to please you, father. What was your return? Day after day, while I was silent, dutiful, sincere, you rained down curses, gibes and sneers upon his head. You spared no sacred feeling I might have— respected not a daugh- 34 THE LOYAL LEAGUE. ter's filial sense of liuty — reviled and cursed the very holy passion of her love, and then assumed the cap and bells to mock her dearly bought obedience. You spared him not, and now I'll not spare thee! I do accept that dowry — the bitterest curse your tongue can frame may fall on me; and never again will Diva Brinley cross the humble thresiiold of your home. You are my father — hut, as you would not descend to mock the maiden love of the woman who bore me, and who so fondly clung to you in prosperity and in the long night of sorrow, so I ask you to respect mine. Although the galling chains of poverty and tiouble may have cramped my nature all these years, I have still grown up to be — a woman, with a woman's feelinirs and a woman's heart. 'Tis true, the maid who loves goes out to sea upon a shattered plank and puts her trust in miracles lor safety; so I go out, alone, to meet and battle with the threatening hosts around. Father, farewell! {Exit R. 1 e.) Judge B. No! Diva! Diva! — but the memory of that face! Fare- well, my daughter. Here our paths diverge. Heaven guard, sustain and save thee. {Exit l. 1 e.) Sekena, (l). Gracious me! But that's the gamest girl in Texas. But put me in her shoes, and I'd have said the same. {Enter Joe Hart r. l e ) Why, Joe. Joe. {Fulliug off his hat.) The wind sits in the east and the clouds grow darker and thicker. I have been to see lawyer Shelby. He says the case agains' Burnham is a bad one, and when lawyer Shelby says bad he means - damned bad. Serena. Joe, ain't it awful. .Toe. {Scratching his- head) I wish I knew who did it. Serena. Why, Henry Burnham. .Jt>E. Did lie? {Shaking his finger at Serena.) If you say that again, you'll die an oid maid. Serena.. O. then 1 won't. But I can't help saying that every- body — except oid Brinley — appears to be in love with Henry Burn- ham. But it's the way ot the world. Once let a man commit a mur- der — I aint saying that Mr. Buruham's a murderer — but let any good looking man commit a murder, and all the women in the universe fall dead in iove with him. Boquets and banquets for the man who kills, no matter whether he be a mati-killer or a lady-killer. {Exit L. 1 E.) Joe. Which way to turn, or what to do, I cannot tell, for all looks dark. But — to-morrow the sun may be shining, although it is cloudy to-day. {Exit i.. i e.) [Enter Lew W. and Hank Bassion r. 1 e.] Lew. (r. c. Angrily) I knew you were an infamous li;ir, but I hardly believed you were a cowardly sneak. Bassion. [c ] Take care, Master Lew, that you don't goad Hank Bassion too far. I have never yet taken the word " Coward " from living man. It disagrees sadly with my French blood. I have killed my man, but — I never murdered one. Lew. What do you mean by that? Bassion. I mean Avhat I say. THE LOYAL LEAGUE. :}5 Lew W. Well, that doesn't concern me. Bassion Perhaps not. ( Aside. Di^aws imaginary circle around Ms neck,) Lew W. Hank Bassion, it's a wonder to me the gallows never caught you. Bassion. That's what I think, considering the number of 3 ears I have been your tool. ( Crosses l.) Lew W. ( Crosses k. c ) Talking about hanging — which isn't quite the pleasantness subject for a tea table chat — but, talking about hanging, that voung hound, Burnham, will soon stretch hemp. And— Bassion. And what ? Lew W. It's a pity you couldn't bear him company. Bassion. Thanks. But what would you have Burnham stretch hemp for? Lew W. For the sake of dear old Bilger— not lost, but gone be- fore. Bassion. (Shrrigging his shoulders.) Perhaps some one else mififht hany: for that Lew W.^ (c.) Who? Bassion. Who! Ha! Ha! Ha! Lew W. Who? Who else, I say? Bassion. (Fainting to Lew.) Yu, I feel easier now. Judge B. You say, brother Daniel, that Colonel Burnham was very kind to you upon discovering his mistake? Daniel B." Kind as a brother. During all those years which 38 THE LOYAL LEAGUE. are to nie — so blank — Colonel Burnham spent his wealth upon me, and manfully he sought to atone for the mistake. JuDWE B. Fool that I was for leaving you. But fired b}^ wild ambition for revenge, that night I fled and left you, as I tiiought, dead. Diva. And, uncle, does Henry resemble Colonel Burnham V Daniel B. He does. Diva, very, very mucii Diva. You heard that, father. Henry resembles Uncle Daniel's truest friend. Judge B. Girl, spare me. Forgive— forget. O, that resem- blance! It has caused so much unnecessary pain. Daniel B. I fully comprehend all that. But, brother, let these bitter feelings die with the dying past, and be buried with the cause we lost. Ten years have rolled over the graves of the blue and the gray, and now we know no North — no South — but one united country, and one flag. Doctor, some wine. [ Burnham hrings wine from table.] Judge B. Brothei, I only say — forgive — forget. A brighter day has dawned upon us all. I bear no bitter feelings now, nor can I longer storm arid rave at Fate. My peace is made with Henry Burnham, and would that I could take his father by the hand. That cannot be, and yet [crosses R.] I join these hands [takes Burnham and Diva's] and for a wedding dowery bequeath a father's — blessing. Daniel B. Those are sentiments worthy of you, Joseph. And when I, too, have joined my loved ones in the land of eternal peace, do not mourn for me, but be happy— all. Diva. But, uncle, 3^ou are not to die. You must get well and stay with us for many years to come. Daniel B. No, child, it cannot be. Nor — would — I have it so. I — feel — the time for — for leaving you is near. Burnham. I hope, sir, that your fears are groundless. To you I owe these bright and joyous hopes which illume the future. To you I owe the friendship and the kindness I have so lately found. To you I owe the bright fruition of a noble, pure arr^bition — to you I owe the heart, the hand of Diva. Daniel B. And I owe all to you. Burnham. How darkly lowered the clouds around one week ago. Then, lying in a dismal cell, accused of a terrible crime, with almost conclusive evidence against me, I saw no ray of hope — nor did I wish to live. Then Diva came — withdrew the cruel words with which she bade me leave her father's house and — then I wished to live. I prayed to live, and, well my prayer was answered. As witness to the cruel deed of Wallace, came the faithful Tobe. [Enter Tobe, l. 2 e.] Tobe. (Grossing to Burnham.) Yaas, sir, here I is. Burnham. O, I didn't call you, Tobe. I simply mentioned your name. Tobe. Did yer — did yer mention my name? THE LOYAL LEAGUE. 39 BuRNHAM. Yes. TOBE. Den I tanks yer lor dat. [Enter .Toe. Hart and Serena Todd u. c. e.] Serena ^(l c ) [ ^^^^ evening, all. [Shake hands with all.] Joe. How are you to-day, uncle. Daniel B. Weak. Quite weak, my boy, but peacefully happy. And how are you, Joseph. Who is this young lady with you? Joe. Miss Serena Todd. Time and again I've tried to run away from her, but could not. She held me spell-bound— fascinated. BuRNHAM. How, Joe? Joe. She did it with her hair. Ah, Burnham, remember what I told you once — or twice — to-morrow the sun may be shining, al- though it is cloudy to-day. Always wait till the clouds roll by. Burnham True, Joe. Intricate and strange are the pathways of time. We were pressed and beset by secret foes. 1 became the football of villains, and almost a member ot an assassins' band. But the shackles have fallen aw^ay, and here, this day, I swear to leave no stone unturned to root out from existence that hideous spectre with a noble name — that monster masquerading in the name of patriotism — "The Loyal League." Diva . Amen. Judge B Thank God for that, Burnham ! Joe. {Extending hand.) Put it there, old boy. Daniel B. Brother, come here. (Judge B. crosses c.) Give me your hand. Julia, come — here — please. (Mrs. B. crosses c.) Are you quite — sure you both forgive me — for — the sorrow — I have caused you? Judge B. Daniel, do not speak thus. There is nothing — nothing to forgive. Through my own selfishness I bade you stay. I knew your brave, chivalrous nature would chafe beneath the chain with which I sought to bind you. 'Tis I who need forgiveness, and not you. Daniel B. And now I want to say one word to these young people here. If anything should happen to me — something may, you know — I have scrawled a sort of will. You all can witness it. Of my share of the buried treasure, Diva takes one-half ; the other half divide between our Joseph Hart and Burnham. And, brother, be my executor. Mrs. B. O, Daniel ! Do not talk of wills to-day— this happiest day in years. Daniel B. 'Tis better that I should, sister— better that I should. Diva. (Kneeling.) No, no, dear uncle — do not — look — so strangely at me ! Daniel B. Poor child ! I do not dread to die. They are wait- inii- for me — wife — and Frank — and Sadie — up — up there. Mrs. B. He's dying! Judge B. Daniel! Daniel! Daniel B. Brother! (Dies.) 40 THE LOYAL LEAGUE. BuRNHAM, He has passed away to the land where are peacefully- assembled the brave and the noble from both sides of the battle line — the only true Loyal League! {Tableau.) \Scene opened out, giving a background of blue sky, with the white-robed forms of a woman and two children. Red light, and low chanting behind the scenes.^ BURNHAM. Diva R. R. c. Mrs. B. Daniel B. Judge B. c. Joe H. Tobe. Serena. L. c. L. CURTAIN. iHB.