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 THI 
 
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 IOld Farm Hous 
 
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 A TRAGI-COMEDY 
 
 IN FIVE ACTS, 
 
 —BY- 
 
 7 
 
 y 
 
 DAWSON A. BLANCHARD. 
 
 COPYRIOHT. 
 
 • 
 
 :|^ttt ©gleans, |ta. 
 
 GEO. MiilXEB, PRrNTEK, 50 BIENVILLE ST., N. O. 
 
 1886. 
 
 
 
 \\^«^.<SSV' .-N^ 
 
 i 
 
■ 
 
►^- THE 
 
 Old Farm House, 
 
 A TRAGI-COMKDY 
 
 IN FIVE ACTS, 
 
 -BY— 
 
 DAWSON A. BLANCHARD. 
 
 COPYRIOHT. 
 
 GEO. MiiLLEn, rRINTKlt, 50 BIEMVILLE ^T., N, O. 
 
 1886. 
 
I 
 
 
 ^5 
 
 (,^ 
 
 ^\ 
 
 ^ 
 
 1.+ 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 188G, by 
 
 DAWSON A. BLANCHARD, 
 
 in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D, C. 
 
THE OL D FAR M HOUSE. 
 
 A TRAGI-COMEDY IN 5 ACTS. 
 
 PHEFACE. 
 
 This play is full of unexpected incidents. In its concep- 
 tion and gradual development, it shows a marked departure 
 from the hackneyed, blood curdling- school. The story is 
 (luite simply told, and each act follows its predecessor, as 
 naturally as the events of every day life. Its plot does not 
 call for any startling violation of probabilitit^, and its dramatis 
 per.<0)U6 are sufficiently varied to give pleasing effect. There 
 is no call upon the scenic artist for startling situations, and 
 the action throughout is rapid enough to give entrain to the 
 whole. The tone of the play is elevating, and there is not a 
 line in it that could create a false impression of life. Even 
 in the stronger scenes, there is an entire absence of rant and 
 violent action ; and throughout, emotion is expressed most 
 forcibly by its apparent suppression. By a happy combina- 
 tion of circumstances the real criminal is discovered, and his 
 victim restored to the arms of devoted parents. 
 
 SYNOPSIS. 
 
 Thomas Bisland is a respectable and industrious Virginia 
 farmer, wdio has by hard labor, made for himself and wife a 
 happy home. Their son Willie (an only child) is a promising 
 youth, and has just returned from college grown into man- 
 hood. He is the idol of his parents. He falls in love with 
 Blanche, the neighbor's daughter, whose father lives in re- 
 tirement. His love is reciprocated ; and that gives offence to 
 Roland Hawk, an- aspirant for preferment, who in a s])irit of 
 jealousy plans the destruction of his successful rival. He 
 leads liim on by insidious ways to the gaming table, and 
 Willie soon falls a victim to his own infatuation. He meets 
 with Capt. Portland, a ship owner, and in a moment of shame 
 and despair, engages for the sea. He disappears suddenly, 
 and soon tidings come to the village from afar, of the wreck 
 of the ship Columbia. The cause of his flight is soon re- 
 vealed to the father. Roland Hawk obtains a mortgage on 
 the farm. Having quarrelled with a companion at the card 
 table, he finds himself compelled to acce})t a challenge to 
 fight. He meets wdth the scorn of the lady whose love he 
 has sought, and with a desire for revenge, orders the sale of 
 the Bisland farm. Recreant to duty, he leaves for parts un- 
 known. The farm is sold under seizure, by the Sheriff— and 
 is purchased by a stranger. A happy denouement follows, 
 Willie has returned home, and the "Old Farm House" is 
 saved. 
 
1 
 
 CHARACTERS. 
 
 Thomas Bisland, . a Farmer. 
 
 Willie Bisland, the Fanner's son. 
 
 James Ludlow, a retired gentleman. 
 
 Capt. Portland, of the ship ColiimV)ia. 
 
 Roland Hawk, a man of the world. 
 
 Sam. Higgins, Inn-keeper. 
 
 Ned. Butler, / 
 
 Frank Mayo, \ ' • Chums. 
 
 David, a farm hand. 
 
 Col. Francis, Lawyer. 
 
 Mrs. Jane Bisland, Farmer's wife. 
 
 Blanche Ludlow, Mr. L's daughter. 
 
 Mrs. Mollie Higgins, Inn-keeper's wife. 
 
 Sallie, Maid. 
 
 Sheriff, ser^ ant and villagers. 
 
 Svnopsis of Scenery. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 Scene 
 Scene 
 
 1. 
 •2.- 
 
 -Yiew of the Old Farm House. 
 —A Garden. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Scene 
 Scene 
 
 1. 
 2. 
 
 —A Yillage Inn. 
 —A Garden. 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 Scene 
 Scene 
 
 1. 
 2.- 
 
 -The Inn. 
 
 —Willie's Home. (A dream.) 
 
 ACT lY. 
 
 Scene 
 Scene 
 
 1. 
 2. 
 
 —The Inn. 
 -A Library. 
 
 ACT^Y. 
 
 Scene 
 
 Scene 
 
 ' Scene 
 
 1. 
 2. 
 3.- 
 
 —Bachelor Quarters. 
 
 —Court House. 
 
 —Home of the Bisland's. 
 
 i 
 
ACT I. 
 
 Scene l.— Vleu: of the "Old Farm Houne'' and yard. 
 
 Dave. (With a pitch fork in his hands -soliloquizes :) Well, 
 the squire's son is home at last. Golly, what a fine looking- 
 fellow he is to be sure ! Every inch a man he is too. The old 
 folks will just go crazy about hira, I reckon. Him and me 
 used to be mighty thick together, once upon a time. I won- 
 ders if edication spiles a man's temper, and makes him too 
 much for thems thats left behind! I aint got any larning, 
 much to speak about, but I've got thems thats good and true 
 friends to me, and that I mean to stick by. The young man 
 is right smart, polished off with larning, but I knows he's got 
 tiie same blood as his good and honest father, and that says 
 all for him. The squire is a true man, and the son— 
 
 Willie. (Enters on the scene calling for Dave, whip in hand . ) 
 Dave ! Oh Dave ! Ah, here you are. I did not know you were 
 so close at hand when I called. 
 
 Dave. All right. Sir ! You are up early this morning. 
 
 Willie. (Aside :) He is a little stiff with me. (Loud :) Yes, 
 Dave, I wish to go off on a canter this bright morning, to get 
 an appetite for breakfast. Have you any good horse flesh in 
 the stable ? I am fond of a good horse ! 
 
 Dave. Yes, Sir; just the thing you want. The squire 
 bought him for you, and I think he is well trained. AVait a 
 bit : I will saddle him for you. 
 
 Willie. Oh no ! by no means. You unlock the stable, and 
 I will attend to the animal myself. I am not above doing that, 
 you know, Dave. 
 
 Dave. Never mind that, Sir. The horse is used to ine. 
 Wait a bit, and I will have him ready in jiffy. (Dave hurries 
 off, and Willie appears undecided.) 
 
 Willie. The poor fellow seems ill at ease. I must try to 
 make him forget the present and recall the past. We were 
 ])oys together, and father thinks there is no one like him. 
 I hope he does not dislike me. 
 
— G — 
 
 Dave. (Appears.) The horse is ready, Sir. He is a little 
 bit skittisli, but I reckon you don't mind that, Sir. 
 
 Willie. No, Dave. There is only one thin.^- 1 do mind— and 
 that is, the word Sir you use so often with me. 
 
 Dave. (Confused.) Beg pardon — no offence I hopes. 
 
 Willie. On the contrary, Dave. I think only, you mean to 
 be too polite v*'ith rae. I will call you Miater David if you 
 persist. 
 
 Dave. Oh! I would rather not, Sir. I mean — (confused). 
 Your father has always been a good friend to me, Sir. 
 
 Willie. Now, Dave! Well you need not mention that, as I 
 know you are quite indispensable to him. But I would like 
 less formality on your part, if you please. Don't you remem- 
 ber the good old times we had together as boys, when we 
 played and romped over these fields? 
 
 Dave. I do indeed, (warmly) and I hopes you have come 
 to stay with us now ! 
 
 Willie. Oh yes ! My school days are about over now. You 
 must tell me w^hat's been going on hereabouts since I left 
 home for college. 
 
 Dave. Not much to speak about — cepting the gentleman 
 and his darter that's come to settle in our neighborhood. 
 
 Willie. Indeed ! When was that ? Who are they? My father 
 has not mentioned that circumstance to me! 
 
 Dave. Mr. Ludlow, a widow — ^ 
 
 Willie. Ah ! A widower did you say ! Well, go on. 
 
 Dave. Yes, that's w^hat I mean. The gentleman has — oh, 
 such a fine looking darter! And she's mighty fond of the 
 squire's lady. Comes here regular. 
 
 Willie. Amazing! And she is very beautiful you say ? W^ho 
 else says so, Dave ? 
 
 Dave. Why, Sallie says so too. And she is a knowing one. 
 
 Willie. And who is Sallie, Dave ? 
 
 Dave. Beg pardon. Sir. The lady's maid is Sallie. 
 
 Willie. A friend of yours I judge ? 
 
 Dave. We've kind of taken to each other, Sir, 
 
 Willie. With a view to matrimony — eh ? 
 
 Dave. Oh ! I dasnt say as much yet. Sir. 
 
 W^illie. Well, I hope you will keep good friends.— Is the 
 young lady much looked after ? 
 
Dave. She's all the talk around. But Miss Blanche and 
 her father go out so seldom, that the young prigs can get a 
 peep at her at the meeting house only of a Sunday. 
 
 Willie. Well, if she visit my mother as you say she does, 
 perhaps I will be more favored than the rest of mankind in 
 being able to see her. Thanks, Dave, for all this informa- 
 tion. Now for the ])ony. 
 
 Dave. If you take the left-hand road at the forks, you will 
 get a longer ride, and pass right by the mansion. There's 
 heaps of style there ! 
 
 Willie. I wish very much to see it, and will take your ad- 
 vice. So here goes! (Exit.) 
 
 Dave. A fine young fellow he is. Not a bit of a prig. But 
 it's no use — I can't talk to him like I used to do afore he 
 went to college. He was a wanting of me to do it, and every 
 time I was going to call his name, natural like, it stuck 
 right — here in my throat, and would'nt come out. That's 
 for the want of an edication. (Dave looks up at the sky.) 
 ^Yell, I wish Ave could have some rain. Dry weather makes 
 poor crops. The Squire will be axing my pinion again to- 
 day. I wish I could tell him its going to rain. I reckon I 
 better take another look at the field afore I see him. (Dave 
 goes off, while talking.) 
 
 (Enter Mr. & Mrs. Bisland, who appear by the style of their 
 dress to be busy about the farm.) 
 
 Mr. Bisland. Wife, I was just thinking in what way to 
 employ Willie about the farm. It would be well to place some 
 responsibility on his shoulders. 
 
 Mrs. Bisland. Yes, Thomas, but not now. He must be 
 allowed a little freedom at first. You know he will soon tire 
 of doing nothing. I wonder where he can be ! 
 
 Mr. Bisland. Passing by the stable, I noticed the pony was 
 not there. I guess he is out for a morning ride. How wonder- 
 fully he has grown. He is quite a man now. I hope his 
 absence from home has not altered his nature. 
 
 Mrs. Bisland. No, Husband ! His nature is as gentle and 
 docile as ever. He has not changed a bit for the worse. 
 
 Mr. Bisland. Is he not a little wilful though— predisposed 
 to independence ? It is good if not carried too far ! 
 
 Mrs. Bisland. Husband, our boy is as near perfection as 
 
- 8 — 
 
 circLimstances will admit, and you know it too I He is as much 
 like you Thomas, as God intended it ! 
 
 Mr. Bisland. Dear Wife, I have no fault to find with our 
 Willie. I meant only to lead you on to talk about him. Does 
 he know of the existence of the beautiful girl, our neighbor's 
 daughter ? 
 
 Mrs. Blsland. I have not mentioned her name to him as 
 yet. ^Villie will have a pleasant companion in her, and that 
 will reconcile him to a country life. 
 
 Mr. Blsland. But suppose Blanche would not fancy him? 
 
 Mrs. Blsland. Not fancy him ! A monstrous thought ! What 
 girl would not be pleased with his attentions'? He is fit for a 
 l)rincess. Let me tell you, — although I have not in my corres- 
 pondence with Willie, given him the slightest hint about her ; 
 still, I never failed to talk about him to Blanche, and to make 
 known to her the noble traits of our darling boy. I believe 
 my delineation of his character quite pleased her. Now-, what 
 say you to that? 
 
 Mr. Blsland. I can only say, that he could not have had a 
 better advocate than his mother,— not even excepting his 
 father. But here he comes already. He could not have rid- 
 den far ! 
 
 Willie. Good morning my dear mother, my dear father! 
 (Touching his mother affectionately.) (Gladly :} I have just 
 returned from a little canter on the highway — and a glorious 
 appetite it has given me for breakfast ! 
 
 Mr. Blsland. You rode the pony I see! Dave says, he is a 
 little skittish at times, but I suppose you are still a good 
 horseman ! 
 
 Willie. Yes, father ! I rather like his mettle. It was a quick 
 ride with him to the forks ! 
 
 Mrs. Blsland. Did you see the new mansion on the left 
 hand road to town ? Yes !— and what think you of it ? 
 
 Willie. Oh ! It is a beautiful residence,— fit for a lord. I 
 am told there is a princess residing there. Indeed, I got a 
 peep at her this morning. 
 
 Mrs. Blsland. You did— and what— then? 
 
 Willie. Well, I made her a most courtly bow as I rode by. 
 
 Mrs. Blsland. And how were you rewarded ? 
 
 Willie. With an angelic smile, — of course ! 
 
 Mr. Blsland. Take care, Sir ! That's dangerous ground to go 
 
— 9 — 
 
 over. (Laughs heartily.) Cupid is standing watch there, and 
 may pierce you with his arrows ! 
 
 WiUle. All right,— father ! I will be guarded, (laughing). 
 (Mr. Bisland goes out laughing.) And how comes it, mother, 
 you never mentioned this young lady to me in your letters? 
 
 Mrs. Bisland. For obvious reasons, my son. You were busy 
 with your studies, and must not be disturbed on any account, 
 — and again, I meant to give you a pleasant surprise when 
 you came home. 
 
 Willie. You have succeeded, mother dear! This pleasant 
 surprise has only added zest to the pleasure of being at home. 
 
 Mrs. Bisland. Are you fond of ladies' society? 
 
 Willie. Dear mother, if all ladies were like you, I would 
 not have a heart big enough to contain all my admiration. 
 (Caressingly :) And who is "this Mr. Ludlow ? 
 
 Mrs. Bisland. A retired gentleman. He is a widower, and 
 has but one child, a charming daughter! 
 
 WilUe. Do you know her w^ell?— Does she visit here ? 
 
 Mrs. Bisland. Oh, yes! We are good friends. — Blanche is 
 her name, and I love her very much. 
 
 Willie. When will I have the pleasure of making her ac- 
 quaintance, mother ? 
 
 Mrs. Bisland. Very soon. We will make a call this even- 
 ing together. 
 
 Willie. (Joyfully.) I will be your gay cavalier. 
 
 Mrs. Bisland. I will send David over with a message to her 
 this morning. And now for breakfast. Have 3^ou forgotten 
 your hunger? 
 
 Willie (Jokingly :) Well,— I believe I have some appetite 
 left. (Takes his mother around the waist, and they go off 
 together.) 
 
 This scene is ahnt off quickly by a Lane, to prepare for the next scene. 
 (Mr. Bisland and Dave appear.) 
 
 Dave. It is awfully dry. Sir, — too dry. We need rain bad ! 
 
 Mr. Bisland. Well— don't let that worry you, Dave. It 
 will come in good time —What do you think of my son liking 
 the country? Can't we make him useful here ? I wish he had 
 your experience, as the farmer's life is surely the most inde- 
 pendent of all. 
 
 Dave. To be sure. Sir ! But he will make a fine lawyer or 
 a docter, or a preacher, Sir, with his edication. 
 
— 10 — 
 
 Mr. BiHland. An education is good to have, Dave ; but, you 
 see it does not fit a man for every occupation in life. My son 
 has had a good chance to learn at school, and has availed 
 himself well of the chance, — but I fear it may have unfitted 
 him for this kind of a life. 
 
 Dnve. Oh no, Sir! He's mighty glad to be home agin. 
 
 Mr. Blsland. Well— we will see. Time will tell! 1 think 
 we had better go on to the house. It's breakfast tinie-^ 
 There's my good wife blowing the horn. (Exeunt. ) (A horn 
 is heard.) 
 
 The scene opens on a garden. 
 
 Scene 2. MisH Blanche culling flowers, and her maid Sallie 
 ivatering the i:>lants. 
 
 Blanche. The flowers look fresh this morning, and will 
 scarcely need watering, Sallie. Oh! what a beautiful geran- 
 ium. This will add very much to the bouquet I am making 
 for papa. 
 
 Sallie. Your papa is very fond of flowers, aint he, Miss 
 Blanche? 
 
 Blanche. He dotes on them, — and whenever I gather a 
 bouquet for him, and place them on the breakfast table, he 
 seems to enjoy his food ever so much more ! 
 
 Sallie. That's strange, aint it? Did'nt you tell me once, 
 the flowers had a language? 
 
 Blanche. I meant to tell you, that there were beautiful 
 thoughts and sentiments associated with them ; for instance, 
 this geranium denotes gentility— and the apple blossom you 
 have there, conveys the idea of preference. 
 
 Sallie. Oh, does it? Well, I'm glad to know that! 
 
 Blanche. And why so? Why are you glad, Sallie? 
 
 Sallie. Because, it saves the trouble of having to speak the 
 Avords if you think about such things at all. Oh, Miss Blanche, 
 did you see that gentleman ride by? He must be the young 
 man Dave w^as a telling me about, Mr. Bisland's son who 
 was expected home. 
 
 Blanche. Yes ! it may be so. I have heard of him also, 
 from his mother. 
 
 Sallie. Aint he handsome though ! Miss Blanche, I do be- 
 lieve he bowed to you ! . . . 
 
— 11 — 
 
 Blandie. I expect he did, Sallie. Now I've gotten a beau- 
 tiful collection of flowers this morning, and will take them 
 right in to papa. I expect he is waiting for me. 
 
 Sallie. Must I go on watering, Miss Blanche? 
 
 Blanche. No, — you need not. The dew was quite heavy 
 last night. (Exit.) 
 
 Sallie. Now, if Miss Blanche would only fall in love with 
 this nice j^oung gentleman, I am sure I would not feel quite 
 so foolish when Dave comes around here. Misery loves com- 
 pany, they say. (Sighing.) (Dave appears suddenly, and 
 startles Sallie.) Oh Heavens! Ho w^ you did scare me, Dave! 
 Why did'nt you make a noise of some kind to let me know 
 you were there? I don't like your stealing on me in that way. 
 (Sits dowm on a bench an*d appears agitated.) (Dave ap- 
 proaching slowly says :) 
 
 Dave. Sorry I made you feel onpleasant. Stealing is not 
 a bad thing to do though (kisses her quickly,) and I don't 
 mind doing it sometimes. 
 
 Sallie. (Jumps up.) Oh, you unmannerly fellow! What do 
 you mean by such actions? (Dave wants to sit by her.) (Dra- 
 matically :) Keep your distance. Sir, or I will call for help ! 
 
 Dave. (Amazed :) Well ! I did not come for to make you 
 angry. Miss Sallie. If you say it's unfair, I can give it back 
 to you. 
 
 Sallie. Yes, and get another one ! I did'nt think you so mean, 
 Dave. I want you to know I have'nt made up my mind quite 
 yet, — so mind your P's and Q's in the future. (Pouts a little.) 
 
 Dave. Oh certainly, Miss Sallie! I will mind them all, 
 only don't be put out with me. I did'nt mean to be onkind, 
 you know ! 
 
 Sallie. Are you sorry you misbehaved? 
 
 Dave. 'Deed I am. Give us your hand on it. (Anxiously.) 
 
 Sallie. No — here's a flower instead, — find out what it means, 
 and— well I am going. (Starts to run away.) 
 
 Dave. (Starts after her, calling her back. ) Oh Sallie, Sallie ! 
 wait a bit— I have a message for Miss Blanche. i^She returns 
 quickly.) 
 
 Sallie. Why did'nt you tell me so before? What is it? 
 
 Dave. But tell me first what I must do with this here 
 flower? You said, find out something ! What something? 
 
— 12 — 
 
 Sallie. (Amused :) Oh, you goose! It's a button holder. 
 
 Dave. (Amazed:) A button hole! What's to find out in a 
 button hole? 
 
 Sallie. Pshaw! Ask somebody else. Why don't you give 
 ]ne the message, Goose. (Amused.) 
 
 Dave. Miss Sallie, you are a Hangel ! 
 
 Sallie. Well if I am, angels have wings, and I am going to 
 fly away. (Starts to go again.) 
 
 Dave. The message, Sallie! Oh stop please, (She stops.) 
 You haint in a good humor this morning with me, Sallie. 
 
 Sallie. Dave, if you don't speak at once, I will leave you ! 
 
 Dave. Well, the squire's lady and Mr. Willie will be a 
 coming over this evening. That's the message. 
 
 SalUe. (Clapping her hands.) Oh, I am so glad, I'm so 
 glad I You may come too, Dave ! (She makes him a curtsy 
 with much formality.) "Au revoir," Mr. David. (Trips away 
 gaily.) 
 
 Dave. What's that she said? O revore ! (Looks at the flow- 
 er and repeats :) O revore ! (In a puzzled manner :) That gal 
 is too smart for me. What the deuce have I got to find out 
 about a twig of apple blossom ? And she called this a button 
 hole too! She's a monstrous smart gal though— I haint got 
 up to her mark yet, but I will by and by ! (Exit.) 
 
 (Mr. Ludlow appears in the garden with Blanche leaning on 
 his arm affectionately.) 
 
 31r. Ludlow. Daughter, I mean to ride over to town this 
 morning. There must be some mail there for me. Will you 
 accompany me? 
 
 Bkuiche. Y'es, father, I will be delighted. I have just re- 
 ceived a message from our good friends, the Bislands. They 
 will be over to tea this evening, and their son, just returned 
 home, will accompany them. 
 
 Mr. Ludlow. Ah, I am glad to hear it ! They are always 
 welcome. Bisland must be happy to have his son at home, 
 as he is the only child. 
 
 Blanche. His mother has often spoken about him to me. 
 She says he carried the highest honors at college. 
 
 Mr. Ladlow. That speaks well for the lad. I am reminded 
 that we will soon have another visitor — a Mr. Koland Hawk 
 whose acquaintance I recently made. He is a man of the 
 
 i 
 
 fl 
 
— 13 — 
 
 world ; and I am told, of some Avealth and importance here- 
 abouts. I fear our seclusion will not last long, and we will 
 be obliged to entertain people, whether we will or no. Wnat 
 say you to that, daughter? 
 
 Blmwhe. It is not to ray liking. But if you think well of 
 it, father, I will be only too glad to assist in chasing away 
 melancholy from your mind. Now, I will get my hat— and 
 meet you around at the garden gate, eh? 
 
 Mr. Ludlow. Yes! I will see to the carriage. (Exeunt.) 
 
 (Mr. Hawk ai)pears, walking lelnHrelij, and examining the 
 surroundings.) 
 
 Hawk. By Jove, this is fine! This Mr. Ludlow has dis- 
 played much taste here. I. judge there must be some wealth 
 lurking around. Well, it's my business to look after that. 
 I have succeeded thus far in introducing myself to him, and 
 now I must play for the lady's smiles. The hour is rather 
 early for a visit, and may be calledunsuitable, — but it is hard 
 to curb my impatience,— besides, a country gentleman is 
 never early and never late. So here goes. (Hesitates.) 
 What! timid, Roland Hawk ! Go hang yourself, Sir, for a 
 driveling idiot. Here you stand on her very threshold, and 
 thinking noiv about conventionalities ! By Gad ! I will face 
 the music! Come v/hat may! (Sallie appears.) Ah! I need 
 not go any further.— Pardon me ! I desire to see Mr. Ludlow ! 
 
 Sallie. I am sorry, Sir, he has just gone out with his 
 daughter. 
 
 Hawk. (Aside:) Confound the luck! 
 
 Sallie. But you may overtake them. They have ridden to 
 town. 
 
 Hawk. Oh no ! I am in no hurry. Pray, who may I have 
 the honor of addressing? 
 
 Sallie. (Timidly :) Sallie is my name, Sir. I am the lady's 
 maid. 
 
 Hawk. A very suitable maid you are, for any one. 
 
 Sallie. (Pleased :) Thanks— Will 3^ou come in, Sir, and wait? 
 
 Hawk. (Aside:) The girl is pretty. (Loud:; I should like 
 very much, Miss Sallie, to do so, but I have an engagement, 
 and will have to forego the pleasure. Be pleased to present 
 my card with my compliments. I hope to return again very 
 
— 14 — 
 
 soon, and now must bid you good-dav. Your hand, Miss- 
 Sallie! 
 
 Sallie. (Extends her hand awkwardly.) Good morning. 
 Sir! (Runs away.) (Exit.) 
 
 Hawk. By Jove, I was half tempted to stay ! That girl is 
 really captivating. But it's best to be prudent. It was a 
 narrow escape anyhow. I never came so near kissing a girl 
 before in my life, without doing it. She was friendly, but she 
 might have prated. Remember Roland I there is a big stake 
 before you. (Exit.) (Curtain.)— 
 
 ! 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Scene l.~Public Room of a Village Inn. 
 
 (The Landlord is smoking his pipe complacently, and soli- 
 loquizing :) 
 
 Mr. H'lgglns. This is indeed a bright morning ! I guess the 
 usual company will be here to-day. (Glancing at the clock.) 
 Almost 10 o'clock! Well, I reckon Hawk will be showing up 
 directly. He is always punctual. A regular one he is,— spends 
 money liberal, just like it w^as easy to get. This card playing 
 is getting to be more than a pastime here. Well, so long as 
 I don't take a hand in it, Mrs. Higgins can't object. (Rub- 
 bing his hands together with an air of satisfaction.) It pays ! 
 I shan't object! 
 
 Mr's. Higgins. (Enters, unobserved, and startles her hus- 
 band.) Mister Higgins! are you talking to yourself? Who 
 are you talking to anyhow? (Looking around.) 
 
 Mr. Higgins. No Ma'am. I was a thinking loud. 
 
 Mrs. Higgins. Pray, Mr. Higgins, don't get into that habit. 
 You will be a doing it in your sleep, and a disturbin me mor'n 
 than ever. 
 
 Mr. Higgins. To be sure I will, Ma'am. 
 
 % 
 
— 15 — 
 
 Mrs. Hlg(jins. Oh, you will, eh ! Now Mr. Higgins, I say 
 you will not. I will put a stop to it. 
 
 Mr. Higgins. (Apologetically : ) You did not understand 
 me, Mrs. Higgins. I meant to say I would do — 
 
 Mrs. Higgins. No, Sir! I did understand every word you 
 said. You said, "To be sure you would." — Now, Mr. Higgins, 
 do I understand Hinglish or not? 
 
 Mr. Higgins. I ncA'er doubted it, Mrs. Higgins. Of course 
 you understand your own language, and speak it too ! 
 
 Mrs. Higgins. Well, don't say I don't understand. Am I 
 right or am I wrong? 
 
 Mr. Higgins. Always right, Ma'am,— always right. 
 
 Mrs. Higgins. You know, Mr. Higgins, two wrongs don't 
 make a right. 
 
 Mr. Higgins. You are right again. Ma'am. 
 
 Mrs. Hlgguis. I am glad to hear you say so, Mr. Higgins. 
 It is always right to acknowledge a wrong. Now, I know 
 there is something wrong in the kitchen this morning, and 
 I am going right there to make it all right. (She goes out 
 smartly.) 
 
 Mr. Higgins- (Bewildered :) I am glad of it . . . It's all right, 
 and it's all wrong. Damn if I know which it is. Well, it's 
 only her way. 
 
 Roland Hawk. (Enters.) Good morning. Landlord! Ami 
 the first here? 
 
 Mr. Higgins. (Eagerly :) Y'es, Sir ! first and foremost. Have 
 a chair, Mr. Hawk. The Newspaper is on the table. 
 
 Hawk. (Draws a Cigar.) Give me a light first. I met with 
 a set-back a few days ago, Higgins, and it has put me out of 
 sorts with the world. Give me some drink. That's medicine 
 for me ! 
 
 Higgins. Yes, and very good medicine it is too. (Hurries 
 away, and Hawk takes up the paper.) 
 
 Hawk. Hallo! what's this! (Reads aloud:) "We take 
 pleasure in chronicling the arrival home of Mr. Bisland junior, 
 who has recently returned from college, bearing the highest 
 honors of his class. He is the son of our respected fellow- 
 citizen Thos. Bisland, Esq., and has a bright future before 
 him." (Landlord has returned with a bottle and tumblers.) 
 Who is this young Bisland noticed here in the paper? I don't 
 know him ! 
 
— 16 — 
 
 HUjgins. A young'ster who has been away at school. Haven 't 
 seen him for several years, but I guess he is a chip of the old 
 block. 
 
 Hawk. Join me, Landlord ! He is spoken of as a young man 
 of talent. I hope he will be one of us. The more the merrier. 
 (Enter Butler and Mayo.) Ah ! here are our friends, Damon 
 and Pythias ! Well gents, g-lad to see you. Better late than 
 never. Come, be seated. 
 
 Butler. I tell you what, it took some persuasion to get me 
 here this morning. The day is too fine for indoor pleasure, 
 and my nag- needs exercise. 
 
 Mayo. Well Ned, we've got the day before us. 
 
 Hawk. What's your horse— a thorough bred? 
 
 Butler. You bet,— and a beauty it is too! I wouldn't take 
 a thousand for him. Come, Hawk, and take a look at him ! 
 You are a judge of horseflesh. 
 
 Hawk. Yes, by and by I will. Come, let us have some 
 wine. Landlord, more tumblers! and a pack of cards! 
 
 Mayo. Come, Ned ! It's early in the day. We can play an 
 hour or two. (Butler sits down reluctantly, and landlord 
 places more tumblers on the table, with the cards.) (Willie 
 enters at that moment, and landlord speaks to Hawk hurried- 
 ly. They turn to look at Willie.) 
 
 Hlggins. That's the young man — that's Mr, Bisland ! (He 
 approaches Willie in a cordial manner.) Good morning, Sir ! 
 — Mr, Bisland's son I believe ! Glad to see you ! 
 
 Willie. I had no idea you would recognize me so easily, 
 Mr. Higgins. I have been absent so long. 
 
 Higgins. Although you have grown up into manhood, I 
 could never forget you, Sir, Mrs. Higgins will be giad to see 
 you. 
 
 Willie. Thanks, I am riding around, familiarizing myself 
 with the old scenes, I do not find many changes hereabouts ! 
 
 Higgins. Oh no ! Things are pretty much at a stand still in 
 this part of the country. You've seen the mansion, I reckon? 
 
 JVillie. Yes, and a beautiful place it is, Sir,— fit for a prince ! 
 
 Higgins. You are right— and there is a princess living there. 
 Have you seen her yet? 
 
 Willie. I have the honor of her acquaintance. 
 
~ 17 - 
 
 (The card players have been playing and drinking alter- 
 nately. Hawk rises from his seat, and approaches the land- 
 lord.) 
 
 Hawk.—:Slr. Higgins, I will thank you for an introduction 
 to this gentleman ! 
 
 Hlggliiii. Mr. Hawk and gentlemen ! this is Mr. Bisland, 
 the son of an old friend of mine. 
 
 (.They all salute each other, and Hawk offers his hand.) 
 
 Hawk. I am more than happy to meet you. Sir! We have 
 just opened a bottle; will you join us? (Willie expresses as- 
 sent, and they approach the table.) Card playing is a pas- 
 time for us ; (he is handed a glass,) and if you have )io objec- 
 tions, we will be pleased to have you take a hand, and form 
 a set with us. Join me, gentlemen, in this request! 
 
 Butler. Have this seat. Sir ! 
 
 Mayo. That will vary the monotony somewhat ! 
 
 Hawk. Will you play at pocker? 
 
 Willie. I know no other game but euchre ! 
 
 Hawk. Well, that will do to begin with. I will play part- 
 ners with you, no one objecting! 
 
 Butler. I have no objections whatever. 
 
 Mayo. The cards are dealt. Your lead, Mr. Bisland ! 
 
 Hawk. We sometimes make it interesting by putting up a 
 small stake. The loser will pay for the cigars this time. 
 
 Butler. It's agreed. (They play on, Higgins looks annoyed.) 
 
 Higgins. (Aside :) It's very unfortunate. I wish it had not 
 happened. He is no match for them. 
 
 Butler. Why Bisland, you are in luck! 
 
 Hawk. I congratulate myself in having 5^0 a for a partner. 
 
 JVillie. You flatter me, Sir ! 
 
 Hawk. No, I never flatter but women. (All laugh.) 
 
 Higgins. (Aside :) Damn it ! What would I say if Tom Bis- 
 land was to come in now ! It's too bad ! 
 
 Butler. Where is your luck, Frank ! 
 
 Mnyo. Gone to the Devil ! I get no cards ! 
 
 Hawk. Be patient, gentlemen ! Fortune is a lickled dame ! 
 
 (At this motnent a noise is heard as if of carriage wdieels, 
 and the landlord looks quickly out of the window.) 
 
 Higgins. A carriage in front of my house! why it's squire 
 Ludlow and his daughter. (He runs out, and the card players 
 
— 18 — 
 
 jump from their seats to look. Willie follows the landlord 
 out quickly.) 
 
 Hlggins. (His voice is heard:) Good morning, squire! 
 Won't you light? 
 
 Hawk. Damn the fellow! He has invited them in. Hide 
 the cards. (Appears excited.) 
 
 Mai/o. (Looking, out of the window\) By George ! Bisland 
 seems well in with the lady. 
 
 Butlei\ Did you notice how he hurried out at the mention 
 of the name? 
 
 Mcujo. I guess he is making up to her. 
 
 Hawk. (Aside :) He is, is he? I will see to that. 
 
 Mayo. (At the window :) The gentleman declines the invita- 
 tion. Now they are off. (Landlord and Willie enter.) 
 
 Hlggins. The squire stopped to tell me, he is expecting a 
 friend on here— a sea captain — who will stop with me a while. 
 
 Hawk. Well, Landlord !— you will get good pay from him 
 I warrant. 
 
 Hlggins. I always treat my guests hospitably, Mr. Hawk. 
 
 Hawk. I will answer for that, Higgins. Come, gentlemen, 
 let us resume. (He sits at the table.) 
 
 Butler. Enough for me ! I am glad of the interruption. 
 
 Mayo. I am of the same mind. Let's go and look at the 
 nag. (The two move towards the door.) 
 
 Butler. I can beat 3'ou on a race, Hawk ! 
 
 Haick. Not to-day, some other time. (Butler and Mayo 
 go out, and Willie is about to follow.) You are not going yet, 
 Mr. Bisland? 
 
 Willie. Yes, I had no idea of remaining here so long, and, 
 besides, I have an engagement which— 
 
 Hawk. You must keep. I would not deter you from ful- 
 filling that duty. Keep your engagement, Sir. 
 
 Willie. I am glad to have met you, Mr. Hawk. 
 
 Hawk. And with all sincerity I say, I hope we shall know 
 each other better in the future. 
 
 Willie. I fully reciprocate the wish. 
 
 Hawk. Y'our company suits me well, Sir. No flattery. Our 
 friends who have just left us, have also a keen appreciation 
 of good company. We will make a gay quartette, Sir. 
 
 Willie. I feel I have fallen in good hands here. 
 
 Hawk. Now Sir, you flatter me! It will afford me much 
 
— 19 — 
 
 satisfaction to liave you call at my bachelor quarters. Here 
 is my card. My friends are always welcome there. 
 
 WlUle. I hope to be able to do so. (They move on towards 
 the door while talking.) 
 
 Hawk. Do so at once ; you have a cordial invitation to dine 
 with me to-morrow. 
 
 Willie. With all my heart. (They reach the door.) 
 
 Hawk. (With great politeness :) "You first. (And they pass 
 out.) 
 
 Higglns. (Excitedly:) By George! It is too bad. The 
 fellow has entrapped him, and I could do nothing to prevent 
 it. (Scratches his head.) Well, the lad is old enough to take 
 care of himself. It's not my interest to interfere anyhow. 
 Hawk spends his money like a man, and that's his own affair. 
 If any one else wants to do the same, is Sam Higgins goiii.? 
 to say no! I never said gambling was allowed here, — but 
 somehow. Hawk has got the better of me there,- and if he gets 
 the better of them chaps, it's no fault of mine either. What's 
 the difference anyhow ! 
 
 (This scene is closed, by quickly drawing the folds together to repre- 
 sent a hedge or lane and to enable the shifting of Sceuerj' in rear.) 
 
 Hawk. (Appears, walking slowly as if meditating. He has 
 changed his dress.) It is not long since I visited this spot, 
 so near to her home,— and here I am again to-day, without a 
 purpose. Am I to be so easily vanguished ! By heavens ! No. 
 If the power of Satan can help me out, I will have it. Was 
 it in a boastful spirit he told me of his expectations ? I think 
 the youth does half suspect that I love her. Pshaw ! I am 
 mad with jealousy, and that renders me incapable of thought 
 and action. Well, all is fair in love and war, and my rival 
 must be removed from out my path. I have taught him to 
 gamble, and now, I will teach him to drink. I will not be 
 beaten in the race. * * * Oh, Blanche ! If thou wert but 
 mine, I feel I could be a truer man !.— Bah ! This is a maudlin 
 feeling ! I must look at facts sternly in the face, and fight him 
 to the bitter end, yes, to the bitter end ! To-morrow, I will 
 come again. I will come with a cooler head, and stronger 
 heart, to hear her speak the words that will save me, or 
 destroy him. (Exit.) 
 
 (The folds will open and produce the oext regular scene.) 
 
— 20 — 
 Scene 2.— A Garden. (Blanche and WiUie together). 
 
 Willie. (Altered in his looks.) Yoii seem sad to-day, 
 Blanche. Come, let us be seated, and tell me the cause of 
 your sorrow. 
 
 Blanche. You speak rather flippantly to be made a confi- 
 dant of ! 
 
 WlU'ie. I did not intend to be so. But I know you have no 
 sorrows to tell about! 
 
 Blanche. I have much to be sad about. Even ijou have 
 been able to discern it! 
 
 MlUe. Your tone has assumed one of displeasure. Tell 
 me, I beseech you, the cause of your displeasure ? 
 
 Blanche. (Waiting a moment, as if forcing herself to speak.) 
 Very well!— As your betrothed, I presume I have a right to 
 speak. We have known each other .scarcely three months, 
 and yet I find, a change has come over you. 
 
 Willie. Why ? How so ? Am I not your devoted lover ? 
 
 Bla)iche. No ! Your devotion is not wholly mine. A man 
 whom I despise, shares your devotion. 
 
 Willie. Blanche ! What can you mean ? Who is it that, 
 has defamed me ? 
 
 Blanche. My heart tells me, you are no longer what you 
 have been. Your association with that man has made it so. 
 
 Willie. You speak of Mr. Hawk I presume. Y^ou Avrong 
 him, Blanche, and in so doing, you wrong me too. He is a 
 gentleman by every instinct; and he has honored me with his 
 l)references above all others. Why should I disdain his 
 friendship ? 
 
 Blanche. Because my instincts are also true. They teach 
 me to abhor his very presence. You confer distinction on 
 him by accepting his friendship. For my sake, 3^ou should 
 sever yourself from him at once. 
 
 Willie. But, how can I do so ? Why should I throw olT a 
 man, who has treated me with so much distinction, without 
 at least some provocation ? 
 
 Blanche. Because I ask it of you. Because, she who has 
 promised. to be your wife, demands that you bring to her a 
 pure and unsullied name ! 
 
 Willie. (Haughtily :) Miss Ludlow, I am at a loss to 
 
 understand you. (She rises from her seat in apparent agita- 
 
— 21 — 
 
 tion.) Blanche, forgive ine ! I ain not myself to-day. Your 
 reproaches I cannot bear. (She moves away as if to leave 
 him.) Oh, do not leave me in an^^er! (Seizing her hand.) 
 
 Blanche. Nay, do not be deceived, — my love is unchanging. 
 (Sadly :) There is one, whose influence perhaps, is more po- 
 tent than mine. Your mother ! Go, seek advice from her, 
 whose love you cannot doubt. (Tenderly :) Do you promise ? 
 
 WiU'ie. (Sadly:) My Mother?— Yes— I promise. (He drops 
 her hand— and she leaves him standing, as if rooted to the 
 spot.) Gone!— gone with that promise from me! Oh, what 
 is to become of me! How shall I keep my word! It would 
 fill my mother's heart with unspeakable anguish, if she but 
 knew the extent of my degradation!— Why should Blanche 
 have spoken so ! How could she have learned the dark and 
 terrible secret, which binds me to that man. 'Tis impossible 
 to make the confession— impossible to sever myself from this 
 evil genius ! Euin stares me in the face, but -a bold play I— 
 luck!— luck!! and all will be well!!! (Despairingly:) No— 
 I have no luck !— I have no friend ! I am ruined ! (He falls 
 on a bench, in the rear of the stage, somewhat screened, and 
 in deep anguish remains with drooped head in his seat as if 
 meditating. ) 
 
 (Hawk a]:)pears at that moment on the scene, unseen by 
 ^Yillie.j 
 
 Hawk. I will stop here to reconnoitre. Nothing in sight, 
 neither Mistress or Maid! Damn my impatience! Shall I go 
 on ! What excuse for doing so ? I might spoil it all by being 
 too hasty. Why cannot I let my plans develop themselves ! 
 Here are notes that are as good as a future mortgage on her 
 hand ; (laughs,) and I hope to have more, before I am done 
 with him. (Examines the notes.) So you are to be married 
 soon! On what? (Laughs hard.) There's many a slip between 
 the cup and the lip. (Laughs.) Hallo! who is this? (Willie 
 has risen and is approaching Hawk unconsciously. ) The lad 
 himself ! There is something wrong already, and Satan has 
 befriended me Bisland! Where are you going ? 
 
 irdlie. xlh ! Mr. Hawk! (Aroused :) I am going home,— not 
 well to-day. 
 
 Hawk. Out of sorts perhaps ! By God, you have nothing to 
 complain about,— surely not of your luck last night. Y^ou 
 
~ 22 - 
 
 pulled down the score a couple of thousands. Butler says 
 you have the devil's luck. Come, cheer up, and come with 
 me. I am on the way to the Inn. There is nothing like good 
 company to elevate the spirits. 
 
 Willie. I beg you will excuse me. I am not fit company 
 for any one to-day. 
 
 Hawk. I say, you consider me your friend ? Well, take my 
 advice, and never show the white feather. 
 
 Willie. (Stiffly :) Sir ! I am ready at all times to meet the 
 demands of courtesy. 
 
 Hawk. Certainly,— your friends expect to get the 'amende 
 honorable' Bisland— and if you prefer, we will go to my 
 quarters. Come,— throw away all cares. Life is too short to 
 be fritted away in vain repinings. We are a jolly set when 
 we get together. Let us take the world as it comes. (Takes 
 AVillie by the arm and urges him on.) Come on, my boy,— 
 you are on the road to fortune again ! (Exeunt.) 
 
 David. (Appears.) What in the devil can that sneaking 
 rascal be a doing around here again ! This aint his beat no- 
 how! There now,— he's done hawked in the squire's son, jest 
 as I was a going to find him myself. His good mother is a 
 deal put out fur his not coming home last night. I'm sure 
 that spalpeen is all to blame for it. I aint had a chance to 
 drop a word in his ear. But he mought think I were taking 
 a liberty wid him. Larning has made him so genteel like. I 
 can't talk to him like I used to do afore he went to college. 
 Bad luck to this Jay liaicker, fur a trying to lead off a honest 
 young man from right doin ! He is a sheep in wolf's clothing, 
 so Sallie tells me. He squirzed her hand, and talked grand 
 like to her, thinking my Sal was a giddy girl! (Laughs.) 
 Never you mind, my gentleman ! I'll have an eye to you. 
 
 (Exit.) Curtain. 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 SIX MONTHS HAVE ELAPSED. 
 
 Scene 1.— Public Boom of the Inn. (Mr. Higgins and Wife.) 
 
 Mrs. Higgins. (Excitedly :) A pretty 'how do you do' it is, 
 
 Mr. Higgins, to have my house turned into a gambling saloon 
 
 for the benefit of that fashionable prig Koland Hawk ! How 
 
 can you sit still, Mr. Higgins, and see that man a fleecing his 
 
— 23 — 
 
 friends out of all they earn, day after day, and night after 
 night, and out of all reason ! Why, Mr. Higgins, the next 
 thing will be your taking a hand in it too. Now, Mr. Hig- 
 gins, understand that I can play at pocky too, (taking up the 
 pocker, and shaking it ominously at him,) you mind that! 
 
 Higgins. Why, Mrs. Higgins, you are rather hard on me ! 
 It's true. Hawk is playing it rather fine, but remember, Mrs. 
 Higgins, he is a paying customer, and many a bottle of wine 
 he pays for. 
 
 Mrs. Higgins. Doin it fine. Sir! Fine, Sir! A fine thing it 
 is to be a cheatin and a robbin and a swearin all day long, 
 and all night long too. Mr. Higgins, have you lost your honor, 
 or have you lost your senses ?— Mr. Higgins ! 
 
 Higgins. (Keluctantly :) Neither, Mrs. Higgins. I meant 
 to say— the meaning of the word fine is— 
 
 Mrs. Higgins. Is fine, Sir, all the world over! 
 
 Higgins. Oh, Mrs. Higgins ! You confound me ! 
 
 Mrs. Higgins. (Screams :) What's that you say ! Confound 
 me ! Mr. Higgins, are you swearin at me at this time of life ? 
 Do you mean to say confound me ! 
 
 Higgins. (Desperately : ) No, Ma'am,— God forbid that I 
 should do so. 
 
 Mrs. Higgins. Mr. Higgins, you did say it. Oh, I wish the 
 Parson could hear you now ! Are you takin lessons from them 
 youngsters ? Mr. Higgins, you are a fine gentleman . Indeed, 
 you are ! 
 
 Higgins. 1 had no intentions. Ma'am— 
 
 Mrs. Higgins. Intentions, Sir ! Mr. Higgins, do you know 
 what place is paved with intentions? How dare you talk of 
 intentions to me ! 
 
 Higgins. Mrs. Higgins! My intentions are always to be 
 respectful to you. 
 
 Mrs. Higgins. (Appeased :) AVell, Mr. Higgins, if you mean 
 to be so, do the right thing. Here's the Captain in our house 
 a lookin on all the while. What can he think of my man- 
 agement ! Am I right, or am I wrong ? 
 
 Higgins. (Wearily:) Always right. Ma'am. Mrs. Higgins, 
 the Captain says he will be a goin soon. His business with 
 Mr. Ludlow is near finished. (Looking out of the window.) 
 Here he comes now, and young Bisland is with him. 
 
- 24 - 
 
 Mrs. H'lggins. Mr. Hisgins, Willie Bisland goes too much 
 with that man HaAvk for his own good. His father has al- 
 ways been a good friend to us. 
 
 Hlggliis. I know it, Ma'am. But I aint had a chance to 
 talk to the young fellow yet. 
 
 Mrs. Higglns. What, in all this time! Well, I'll talk to 
 him myself. Mr. Higglns, you've worried me so, 1 had forgot 
 it was near dinner time. (She hurries out, and Capt. Portland 
 enters with AVillie.) 
 
 Ca2:)t. Portland. My young friend, there's nothing like a 
 sea-faring life. Come, let us be seated, and I will give you 
 some of my experience. Landlord ! I've had a line walk this 
 morning,—got through with business, and now I am ready 
 to hoist sail. 
 
 Higglns. Sorry you have to leave us, Captain. 
 
 Capt. Portland. Well, Sir, it is pleasant to come ashore for 
 a day or two,— but an old sea-dog like me is better off on 
 board ship. I was just about to talk to my young friend here 
 on that very subject. Give me the grand old ocean for my 
 couch, and I feel again the true vigor of manhood. Ah, 
 gentlemen ! the profession of a sailor stands above all others 
 in its usefulness and magnificence ! 
 
 Willie. Very true. Sir ! What would the world be to-day, 
 if it were not for our adventurous seamen ! 
 
 (Mr. Higgins has disappeared.) 
 
 Capt. Portland. Young man ! You have the ring of the true 
 metal in you. A sailor's life would become you well. How 
 do you mean to steer your course in this busy world ? 
 
 Willie. 1 am only a farmer's son, and have not as yet 
 determined upon a profession. I think, I would like to go to 
 sea. 
 
 Capt. Portland. Indeed ! There is room for you on board 
 my ship ! I am in search of a supercargo, and I believe you 
 would be well adapted for that! If you can make up your 
 mind to join my fortunes, a grand and promising future is 
 before you. 
 
 Willie. Capt. Portland, you do me honor! lam truly grate- 
 ful to you. When do you leave here ? 
 
 Capt. Portland. To-morrow morning, before sun up, I will 
 be on my way to port. In two days more, I will weigh anchor. 
 The offer is open to you. What say you, my lad ? 
 
— 25 — 
 
 Willie. (Meditatively :) It will not take me long to decide. 
 (Eesolutely :) Yes, — I have decided. All things being equal, 
 I will be with you in less than two days. May I ask that tnis 
 matter be kept strictly private between us ? 
 
 Capt. Portland. Business is business. Sir. You will have 
 nothing to fear or to regret on that score. 
 
 Willie. Thanks! The time is short, and I must now say 
 good bye, until we meet again. 
 
 Capt. Pot^tland. (Taking him by the hand :) Stick to your 
 resolution, young man, and all will be well. (Exit Willie.) 
 What the deuce does the lad mean ! Is he going to run away ? 
 Well, that's none of my business. He is a likely young fel- 
 low, and suits me well. He might do worse by staying here ! 
 It's a lucky chance. (Landlord enters.) Landlord, I must 
 be off betimes in the morniiig. By the by, what do you know 
 of our young friend Bisland ? I have quite taken to the lad ! 
 
 Higgias. A fine young fellow, Sir ! I've known his father 
 for many a year. No one need be ashamed to know him. 
 Why, Sir, farmer Bisland came here a poor man, and by hard 
 work and honest dealing has made himself a name. He owes 
 no man a dollar. 
 
 Capt. Portland,. Good enough ! 
 
 Higglns. He gave the boy a college education, and there's 
 no reason why he should not make his mark! 
 
 Capt. Portland. I judge so from a short acquaintance. I 
 met him here you know, in what I should call, rather gay 
 company. But the lad looks to me a quiet and genteel fellow, 
 —something bordering on the melancholy ? 
 
 Higglns. Melancholy ! Why, he ought to be the gayest lad 
 around here ! (Amused :) It's the common report he is to get 
 the beautiful Miss Ludlow for a bride ! He ought to be a very 
 happy man, eh, Captain ? 
 
 Capt. Portland. (Startled:) The devil! (Aside:) It's too late 
 now— (Loud :) Well, you know Landlord, love is a disease, and 
 it makes people melancholy like, while the spell is on them. 
 Of course, you know something about it. 
 
 Higglns. (Confused :) Well no,— Yes I mean,— but it's kind 
 of healed up, you know ... I guess you've got no wife. 
 
 Capt. P. You guess right. My wife is my ship, and my 
 family, my crew ! But you know, my dear Sir, we are not all 
 adapted to the same kind of business. Where would be the 
 
— 26 — 
 
 Inn without the woman ! My ship is better off without her. 
 A ship is no place for a woman ! 
 
 Hlgglns. My wife would say to that, captain, "Where the 
 man goes, the wife should follow!" 
 
 Capt. P. Ay — ay! But a sailor has no right to a wife, and 
 that shuts out the woman, you see ! I make it a point in the 
 selection of my crew, never to employ a married man. A 
 man has no right to marry a woman, and then leave her to 
 go off on long cruises, perhaps never again to return. Yes, 
 Sir ! It is an article of faith with me, and should be made a 
 fundamental law, never to permit a married man to go to sea. 
 
 Higgins. Well, Sir, I believe you are right. There's logic 
 in what you say. (A bell rings.) Ah, there's the dinner bell ! 
 There's logic in that too, eh? (Moving as if going.) 
 
 Capt. P. I will convince you of that fact directly. (They 
 laugh at the joke and disappear.) 
 
 This Scene is shut off by an Avenue or Roadway Scene, to enable .shift- 
 ing of Scenery in rear. 
 
 Blanche. (Appears, walking slowly and looking despondent.) 
 Days have gone by since last we met, and yet he comes 
 not! Was I unkind to him? Did I upbraid him too hastily? 
 Oh Willie ! Why do you not come to me ! — My mind is full of 
 strange doubts and fears, and I feel some terrible misfortune 
 is to happen to me ! Oh, what shall I do ? W^hat shall I do ? 
 (Sallie appears, waving her handkerchief, as if beckoning 
 some one in the distance. ) Come, Sallie. It is getting late, 
 and papa will be anxious ttbout us. (She sees Sallie weaving.) 
 (Eagerly :) Who is it you see ? Who is coming ? 
 
 Sallie. Dave is waiving his hat and running this way ! I 
 think he may want to si)eak to you, Miss Blanche! He may 
 have a message for you ! 
 
 Blanche. (Aside :) It is strange there should be needed novv 
 an intermedium between us! (Loud:) No, Sallie, I cannot 
 wait. If there be a message, you may receive it for me. (Exit. ) 
 
 Sallie. Poor dear! It is a terrible thing to be in love. I 
 don't believe much in these long engagements nohow! It 
 gives them fellows too much time to think. When Isafj ye,^ 
 to Dave, I want him to marry me exactly five days afterward. 
 (She looks again in the direction where Dave is supposed to 
 
— 27 — 
 
 be.) Well, where is he? I do declare, if he has'nt gone the 
 other way, and turned his back on me! Never mind, Sir! I 
 will make it ten days now ! (Exit.) 
 
 This short Scene is drawn aside, a ud the next regular Scene represented. 
 
 Scene 2. Willie at Home — alone in his chamber at night. 
 (Music soft.) 
 
 Willie. (He sits at a table, with drooping head.) (Solilo- 
 quizes:) I cannot sleep ! Oh, if I could only sleep that sleep 
 of peace which once was mine! What is there in life to hope 
 for? The beautiful dreams of my life have passed away, and 
 I will soon be an outcast, away from home ! Home ! My dear, 
 dear old home! given away, for less than a mess of pottage! 
 Great God ! do I deserve a single merciful thought from Thee ! 
 My father ! My mother ever tender and true— how have I re- 
 turned your love forme! I cannot bear the thought— it will 
 make me mad, it will make me mad! Cursed the hour that 
 saw me barter away life, hope and happiness ! ! (He paces 
 distractedly the floor of his room.) Why did I yield to him ! 
 Why did I yield to the tempter! To-morrow% and perhaps 
 those I hold most dear vnW learn to hate me! To-morrow, — 
 oh hapi:»y thought! I will be far away from here, and out of 
 
 the reach of their scorn ! Father, awake ! Mother, 
 
 awake before it be too late !— But no— it is better thus ; better 
 that I should leave them, and fly from a scene of woe and 
 desolation ! Have I not ruined them— and made them poor, 
 poor, poor— ! (He gives way to excessive grief.) — They sleep 
 now the sleex^ of the innocent, little knowing to what a depth 
 of degradation their son has fallen ! They sleep a peaceful 
 slee]), unconscious of the misery that is in store for them! 
 and I, the w^retch, (frantically), the miscreant, the cause of 
 their desolation, am allowed to live ! Oh death ! thou wouldst 
 be a welcome visitor now! If a sudden leap into the wilds of 
 eternity could only restore the past, gladly would I accept 
 my doom !— My mother taught me to pray-to pray to God 
 for his mercy. His mercy! Oh laugh ye demons at the 
 thought !— But J ?("iZ/ pray — not for mercy for me — but for 
 mercy for my father— for mercy for my mother! (He falls on 
 his knees at the bedside.) Oh my God, Thou who art called 
 the merciful Lord ! have pity on them who have been wronged ! 
 
— 28 — 
 
 Visit not my sin upon them — but keep them ever from harm ! 
 (Kises from iiis linees and goes to the table.) I must not leave 
 them without a line of farewell. My absence would be spread 
 abroad, and the impending evil would fall sooner upon their 
 devoted heads ! (He prepares to write.) They will say per- 
 haps, I was ill and had to go abroad. (He writes hastily.) 
 There ! — I will place it here under my pillow, and my mother 
 will sureh' find it. My poor mother ! (He paces his room again 
 distractedly.) Blanche, my beloved! Will you ever forgive 
 me ! No— when she has learned the extent of my iniquity, she 
 will rejoice at her escape ! Had I listened to her gentle chid- 
 ings, my fate would have been so different— oh, so different! 
 The cup of happiness was offered to me, and I have dashed 
 it from my lips ! Oh why do I linger here ! Why stay here 
 another moment ! (Dispairingly :) Have not I chosen to be an 
 outcast — a miserable outcast! ! — (Suddenly :) The hour is 
 growing late and I must fly— I must be gone before I lose my 
 courage ! There is nothing I can take away— nothing, nothing 
 —for nothing belongs to me— no, not even the roof that shel- 
 ters me now !— This small valise— yes - it was my college com- 
 panion — 1 2uill take it, I will preserve it as the only remem- 
 brance of happier days ! (He has i)laccd some linen in the 
 valise.) Farewell, my father ! Farewell, my mother !— farewell 
 ray home!— (Going to the door of his chamber, hat in hand.) 
 Shall I ever see them again! Heaven help me! (Disappears.) 
 
 (Mrs. Bisland enters en deshabille, candle in hand, looking 
 as if she were tired and distressed.) 
 
 Mrs. Bisland, He is not here. His bed is still untouched ! 
 Oh, why does not my boy come home! What evil spirit is it 
 that keeps him from me ! I think he must come to-night, and 
 I will sit here and wait for him. It is late, but my boy will 
 surely come. I must see— my boy— to-night. (She is falling 
 asleep in the chair.) I — must— see 
 
 (Tableau.) She has fallen asleep. The audience is shown 
 a shipwreck scene in the rear of the stage. She is dreaming— 
 and at the moment the ship is sinking, she screams— '*oh save 
 him" throwing her arm up— and Curtain falls. 
 
— 29 — 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 ANOTHER MONTH HAS ELAPSED. 
 
 Scene 1. Tlie Inn. A grorqj of yeojAe, some standlg and 
 some sitting. 
 
 Landlord. (Reads the paper aloud :) 
 
 M7\ Higgins. Telegraphic news.— "Ship Columbia lost at 
 sea, in a great storm off the coast of Norway.— All lives 
 lost" That's bad news, bad news ! 
 
 Hawk. Was that Capt. Portland's ship, Mr. Higgins ? 
 
 ilffr. Higgins. Yes, Sir! It must be. He's gone on— his last 
 voyage, and that poor lad is gone too ! 
 
 Bidler. Is it positive that Bisland went to sea? 
 
 Mr. Higgins. Every thing points that way, Mr. Butler. 
 
 Mayo. It will be a terrible blow for his father. I wish it 
 could be kept from him. 
 
 Mr. Higgins. Ah, Sir, bad news travels fast. 
 
 Hawk. Ludlow I imagine will be startled at the news. He 
 was part owner of that ship. 
 
 Butler. Ah! That accounts for the Captain's visit here 
 some time ago. 
 
 Mayo. Did he know that Willie Bisland was going with 
 Capt. Portland? It looks like a mixed up thing to me ! 
 
 Mr. Higgins. Yes, very mixed up. I never know'd much 
 about it, — bat I rather think the young man was running 
 away from trouble, as he thought. 
 
 Hawk. Jumped from the frying ])an into the fire. 
 
 Higgins. No, Sir! He was drowned. But the less said about 
 it the better. I don't know that there is much difference though 
 between a shipwreck on sea and a shipwreck on land. 
 
 Hawk. Come now, landlord. You've dwelt long enough 
 on a poor subject. Give us a bottle of wine, and a pack of 
 cards, and I will enliven the company a little! Boys, let's 
 have a game ! 
 
 (Mrs. Higgins is heard calling, "Mr Higgins!'') 
 
 Mr. Higgins. Mrs. Higgins is calling ! (and hurries to her). 
 
 (The rest of the company leave the Inn, except Hawk and his 
 two friends.) 
 
— 30 — 
 
 Hawk. He shivers at her call. (They laugh.) 
 
 Mayo. The last game we had with Willie Bisland was at 
 your quarters, Hawk, was it not? 
 
 Haick. Yes,— don't mention it. He played like a mad man. 
 
 Butler. Or rather like a fool. He played for all he was 
 worth ! 
 
 Mayo. What an infatuation he had for cards. I remember 
 when we first fell in with him, he scarcely knew one card from 
 the other. Well I'm sorry he's met with such an untimely 
 end. Where's Higgins? 
 
 Hawk. Have patience, gentlemen. I called for the cards, 
 you know, but Mrs. Higgins called for Mr. Higgins, and that 
 settles it. (They laugh.) 
 
 (Landlord appears.) Come, Higgins, a pack of cards. 
 
 Higgins. Gents, Mrs. Higgins has religious scruples against 
 card playing, — and the Parson has been arter me about it. Now 
 I wish to please all sides, and to make matters equal, I have 
 fixed up a nice room for you up stairs, where you can play 
 and be free from interruption. Will that do, Mr. Hawk? 
 
 Hawk. Oh certainly ! I rather like the arrangement ! 
 
 Butler. All right, Landlord. That will do. 
 
 Higgins. Come then,— follow me. This w^ay. Gents ! 
 
 (They all go out after Mr. Higgins, who appears scared.) 
 
 Mayo. (Derisively :) Indian file ! Tip-toe, gentlemen ! 
 Mrs. Higgins. (Appears.) Those gamblers here again ! I 
 surely heard their voices ! Where is Mr. Higgins? 
 
 (Mr. Higgins comes in timidly.) 
 
 Higgins. (Cheerfully :) Mrs. Higgins, I was looking for you ! 
 
 Mrs. Higgins. (Stiffly:) Mr. Higgins, I was looking for 
 you ! ! 
 
 Higgins. Yes, ma'am. It's all right now. 
 
 Mrs. Higgins. What's all right. Sir? 
 
 Higgins. I meant to say there would 'nt be any more card 
 playing in this hall. 
 
 Mrs. Higgins. And do you mean to tell me such a bare 
 faced lie ! ! 
 
 Higgins. Pon my word. Ma'am. There won't be any more 
 card playing in this hall! 
 
— 31 — 
 
 Mrs. Higg'ms. Oh Gracious me ! what a sinner! (Scream- 
 ing the words, j 
 
 Higglns. Mrs. Higgins ! I call you to witness there is no 
 one in this hall, but you and me— 
 
 Mr.^. Higgins. And you want to prove it by me! You want 
 to in^ove it by me, Mr. Higgins ! ! 
 
 Higglns. (Desperately:) Mrs Higgins! It's worth all of my 
 life to quarrel with these men. Hawk is a bad one. 
 
 Mrs. Higgins. Well, Sir! I told you so long ago. 
 
 Higglns. But I've stowed them away out of sight. 
 
 Mrs. Higglns. You have, have you ! Mr. Higgins, that does 
 not satisfy my religious scruples. The Parson says, there is 
 no compromise between right and wrong. 
 
 Higgins. I know it, Ma'am, but what am I to do? 
 
 Mrs. Higgins. Mr. Higgins, have you no conscience? 
 There's Willie Bisland already gone to the dogs! 
 
 Higgins. (Quickly : i No he was drowned, I'm not responsible 
 for that. Koland Hawk is all to blame for it. 
 
 Mrs. Higgins. That man will bring a curse on this house. — 
 Shut it up, Mr. Higgins, if you can do no better. 
 
 (A great noise is heard in the house like men fighting. Mrs. 
 Higgins falls fainting on a chair, and Mr. Higgins looks 
 very much frightened.) 
 
 Mrs. Higgins. (Crying:) O Lord! What can be the matter! 
 
 Higgins. My God ! I believe they are fighting ! 
 
 Mrs. Higgins. Oh Mr. Higgins ! See what it is ! I will die ! ! 
 
 (Mrs. Higgins goes into hysterics— and Higgins appears be- 
 wildered.; 
 
 (At this moment, Hawk rushes in, all dishevelled, with a 
 bottle in his hand as if using it to defend himself, follawed by 
 Mayo, who has thrown himself in the way between him and 
 Butler, who follows closely with a stick in his hand, clubbed 
 as if to strike with. Butler's face is all bloody, and he is 
 cursing and trying to get at Hawdc. Mr. Higgins catches 
 hold of the stick as it is raised, and a struggle ensues between 
 them for its possession. Mayo is urging Hawk to go away, 
 and Mrs. Higgins is screaming for help. There is a general 
 turmoil in the room.) 
 
 Butler. He is a thief! He is a swindler! Let me kill the 
 
- 32 - 
 
 scoundrel ! Bij Heavens, I k'UI have his blood ! (Hawk has dis- 
 appeared, and* Mayo is holding Butler back.) 
 
 (This Scene changes rapidly into a Street of the Village, representing 
 a House with a lawyer's sign, to enable shifting of Scenery in the rear.) 
 
 Francis. (Comes out from the House, with a letter in his 
 hand.) A hasty summons, this! What does it mean? (Breaks 
 open the letter and reads, — smiling says :) Ah ! a duel on the 
 tapis ! Well, I like that ! It will break the monotony of this 
 dull country life ! Hawk is my client, and now he wants to 
 engage my services as a friend in this affair ! Well, I do not 
 object. I am quite willing he should share the honors of a 
 duellist with me ! I wonder how it originated ? I will go to 
 him at once and find out. He will have instructions for me. 
 
 (Exit.) 
 
 Mayo. (Appears.) Yesterday they were friends,— to-day, 
 they are bitter enemies! Too much wine— too much wine! 
 Butler is in a rage now, and has demanded satisfaction. As a 
 blow^ was struck, there can be no compromise. Blood, noth- 
 ing but blood can wipe off the insult! Well, my man is an ex- 
 cellent shot, and if he but keeps cool, the other will surely 
 bite the dust. Here is the lawyer's office! I suppose he will 
 be ready to arrange the preliminaries for the meeting. I 
 would much rather though it were a law case. (He enters the 
 office,— scene changes.) 
 
 • Scene 2. Interior of the Bldancl home. 
 
 Mr. Bisland. (Seated, near his wife who is weeping.) Dear wife ! 
 Do not grieve so much ! Cannot you become reconciled to the 
 will of Providence ! Your grief has well nigh broken my heart ! 
 
 Mrs. Bisland. Ah, husband! Your courage is great ! Would 
 to God, mine was the same ! I have never ceased to hope until 
 now ! That Willie would come back to us some day, has been 
 a sustaining hope for me ! But now— he is dead! — Oh God, 
 have pity on me ! (She gives way to excessive grief.) 
 
 Mr. Bisland. (Ap])roaches her :) Wife ! Is there nothing I can 
 say to console you ? 
 
 Mrs. Bisland. (Beseechingly :) Tell me it is not true. Tell 
 me he is not — dead ! 
 
 Mr. Bisland. Dearest! Must we deny a truth, because it 
 
— 33 — 
 
 seems so hard to believe! But, God has worked miracles be- 
 fore- 
 
 Mrs. Blsland. Yes— oh yes! May he not have caught a 
 plank! and have been saved by a passing ship! Oh husband, 
 tell me it is so ! It may be only a dream ! 
 
 Mr. Bi^Jand. We do not know that, —we cannot know it,— 
 at least for the present. — But, there may be— the remotest 
 possibility, that, as the ship was wrecked near the coast— (he 
 is unable to finish.) 
 
 Mrs. Blsland. I know what you would say, husband! but 
 you are afraid to say it,— that he was saved ! He was a good 
 son, husband — he was a dutiful child— would God take away 
 his young life ? 
 
 Mr. Blsland. Wife! Bead to me the lines he left for us. 
 
 Mrs. Blsland. (Takes from her bosom a crumpled note, 
 and kisses it.) Here it is, husband ! It seems so stained with 
 tears. How he must have suffered while writing — I never 
 knew my boy to shed a tear. His was a happy nature. Could 
 he have gone away with a broken heart? It gives no clue at 
 all, as to his motive for leaving home. (Reads ii "I leave you 
 dear Parents, with a rei)entant heart.— Farewell, loved ones. 
 May Heaven shield you from harm. — Tell Blanche it is better 
 so. I am not worthy of her love." — There is some hidden 
 meaning in these words, — a secret sorrow, too heavy for him 
 to bear. (Weeps.) 
 
 Mr. Blsland. It is strange indeed! Could Blanche have 
 been unkind to him !— I thought them devotedly attached to 
 each other.— Wife ! I believe our estrangement with Ludlow 
 has made things more obscure. — In the excess of our grief 
 we have i)erhaps been unmindful of the wrongs of that girl. 
 
 Mrs. Blsland: But, why has she not sought to explain ? 
 
 Mr. Blsland. Dearest! A woman slighted is unforgiving! 
 It was my duty to go to Ludlow.— 
 
 David. (Enters.) Miss Blanche, Sir, is at the door. She 
 wants to see the Mistress very much. (Exit.) 
 
 Mr. Blsland. I will go to meet her, wife. Let us receive 
 her cordially. Our wish is almost granted ! (Exit.) 
 
 Mrs. Blsland. God grant that I may learn something about 
 this dark and mysterious affair. May Heaven forgive her, if 
 she was unkind to him. 
 
— 34 — 
 
 (Enter Mr. Bisland with Blanc-he leaning on his arm. She 
 sees Mrs. Bisland in tears, and rushes to her, and is folded 
 in her embrace.) 
 
 Mm. Bisland. Oh Blanche ! lam .so glad to see you ! 
 
 Blanche. I fear I do not come as an angel of Mercy— but as 
 one who feels the deep anguish of your heart, I have come 
 to mingle my tears with yours. 
 
 Mrs. Bisland. (Eagerly :) But,— have you no tidings of my 
 boy? 
 
 Blanche. None, but the worst. — Compose yourself, dear 
 friend, and may Heaven help you to bear the agony of this 
 moment. (She caresses Mrs. Bisland and hides her own 
 tears.) 
 
 Mrs. Bisland. Say on, dear girl ! I am resigned— to His will ! 
 
 Blanche. The news — have been confirmed- (hesitating) and 
 there was no one — saved, (in a whisper.) 
 
 (Mr. Bisland is seated in an arm chair near his wife. She 
 falls on her knees, and buries her face in l\is lap with the ex- 
 clamation:) 
 
 -M>'s. Bisland. Oh husband! This is too much—\ (falls faint- 
 ing.) (Mr. Bisland supports her, and Blanche chafes her 
 hands.) 
 
 Blanche. Do not be alarmed, Sir. It is only a momentary 
 weakness. There— she is better! (They raise her up.) She 
 had better go to her chamber— Oh, let me be as a daughter 
 to you !— I cannot fill the void in your heart, but I will try at 
 least to comfort you. 
 
 (With her arm encircled about her waist, and Mr. Bisland 
 supporting her also, they slowly retire.) 
 
 David. (Appears very much agitated.) My God— My God ! 
 What's going to hai)pen next ! (He appears to be looking for 
 something.) The squire says I must run for the Doctor! 
 Poor Lady! It is enough to kill her.— What's that? A ring at 
 the door bell ! (Goes out quickly- ) 
 
 (Mr. Bisland returns to the library or sitting room.) 
 
 Mr. Bisland. Poor Wife ! I fear the worse has yet to come 
 (disconsolately). (David enters.) Do not lose any time, David. 
 
 David. No, Sir! but there is a gentleman awaiting to see 
 you, I think it is lawyer Francis, Sir. 
 
— 35 — 
 
 Mr. Bidand. Lawyer Francis ! What business has he with 
 me? Admit him, David. 
 
 Mr. Francis. (Enters.) Good morning, Mr. Bisland ! I hope 
 you are not much disturbed by this call. I desired to see you 
 on important business. (Sits down.) 
 
 Mr. Bisland. (Astonished.) Indeed! Your visit I must 
 acknowledge has taken me unawares. I am ill prepared for 
 business of any kind to-day. — I will hear you, Sir! 
 
 Francis. I regret the occasion, Sir,— but professional dutj 
 cannot always be deferred. I am pressed by my client to see 
 you without delay.— 1 have waited some days already.— 
 
 Mr. Bisland. Your client! And pray, what may be your 
 business with me. Sir? 
 
 Francis. Mr. Hawk is my client- and he has charged me 
 with the collection of these notes. (Produces them.) 
 
 Mr. Bisland. Notes ! What means this? Why, Sir, I do not 
 owe Mr. Hawk or any other man, a single dollar! 
 
 Francis. It is a debt owed by your son — and these are Drafts 
 drawn against you. 
 
 3Tr. Bisland. (Sadly:) My son is dead! He could not have 
 made debts without my knowledge ! 
 
 Francis. Will you have the kindness to examine, and sa- 
 tisfy yourself ? I think they are genuine ? 
 
 Mr. Bisland. (Examines the notes.) My God, Sir! I am 
 bewildered. How came this about ? 
 
 Francis. I have no knowledge of that. Sir. I am only 
 charged with their collection. You do not repudiate the 
 claim I hope ? 
 
 Mr. Bisland. Sir! It is a strange fatality that aw^aits me — 
 No— I do not deny the truth of this fatality— 
 
 Francis. 1 regret you take it so much to heart. Eemember, 
 I am only acting as a lawyer. 
 
 Mr. Bisland. Mr. Francis, I have nothing to blame you 
 for. It is your client who has done me harm, 
 
 Francis. Pardon me! I will not discuss the merits of the 
 gentleman.— When will you feel disposed to pay this amount ? 
 
 Mr. Bisland. 1 cannot answer you at once. —It is a large 
 sum,— a very large sum to pay— 
 
 Francis. Well Sir— to avoid anything like a protest, which 
 would only make matters worse, I would suggest a compro- 
 mise. 
 
— 36 — 
 
 Mr. Bidancl. Anytliing— that will save my son's name from 
 the odium that would fall upon him. 
 
 Francis. As an accommodation to you, Mr. Bisland, I pro- 
 pose that you give a mortgage on this property. — That will 
 give you time. 
 
 Mr. BMand. Thanks! I see no other way of extricating 
 myself than doing as you advise. — Our little farm was to-day, 
 I thought, sciuarely out of debt, — to-morrow, alas ! it will have 
 passed away entirely from me. 
 
 Francds. Oh, not quite so bad. Sir! A good season and a 
 good crop, and you will weather the storm. 
 
 Mr. Bidancl. God grant it may be so! But, it is a large 
 sum, a very large sum to pay. 
 
 Francis. I will have the deed prepared for your signature, 
 to-morrow — And now, Sir, in taking leave of you, I must thank 
 you for the amicable adjustment of this affair. 
 
 Mr. Bisland. (Proudly:) I would have given my life's 
 blood to honor the nanie of my son. As a favor, I ask you, 
 to keep this matter from the public gaze ! 
 
 Francis. You need have no fears about that. Sir. (Exit.) 
 
 Mr. Bisland. (Paces the room in deep woe.) Oh Willie, my 
 son ! What have you done ! I see now— It is all clear to me ! 
 But I must not blame him ! He fled from home to hide nis 
 shame! and— the poor boy — is dead! He was no doubt, the 
 victim of a most foul plot.— My boy was too good— too noble, 
 to have wilfully wronged his father. And his mother, who 
 loves him so much, how can I keep this terrible secret from 
 her! She suffers now, knowing him to be dead! But the 
 knowledge that he had done wrong, would surely kill her. 
 Blanche too, has never lost faith in him. Better to have lost 
 fortune and all, than to have been unjust in a single thought 
 to an innocent girl. But it is all clear now— I will keep it 
 from them until the last moment. (He has seated himself, 
 with drooping head he weeps— and apparently falls asleep.) 
 
 Blanche. (Appears at the door— looks in and calls :) Mr. 
 Bisland ! Father ! No answer.— He must be asleep ! Poor man ! 
 It is the sleep of weariness ! (She approaches his chair silently.) 
 What would I not give to make them happy again! (He 
 moves in his chair) I fear I have wakened him ! (She starts 
 to go.) 
 
 Mr. Bisland. (He wakes up.) Blanche ! Is it you? Come, 
 
— 37 — 
 
 sit bj' me, child, I wish to speak to you— How is my wife? Has 
 she sent for me? (Slie sits by his side.) 
 
 Blanche. No, Sir!— Slie is resting quietl}-, and I came to 
 see about you. You look so sad and weary ! 
 
 M7\ Bldand. Thanks, child ! You are a good friend to us. 
 
 Blanche. I could not do less for him, father! 
 
 31r. Bislancl And you are very sure, my dear girl, that 
 Willie loved you faithfully? 
 
 Blanche. I never doubted it— 
 
 M7\ Blsland. Never do— never doubt it. When he left us, 
 there was something amiss with him. — His mind was un- 
 hinged! (In a w^hisper.) 
 
 Blanche. It must have been so.— Oh no ! I never doubted 
 his love, and I am sure he never doubted mine.— 
 
 Mr. Bidand. Kiss me my daughter. — I am much comforted. 
 (He rises from his seat wearily.) And now, I must leave the 
 patient in your hands for a little while. I have the farm to 
 see about. 
 
 Blanche. Cannot David do that for 3'ou? You look so care- 
 worn to-day,— sleep will do you good. 
 
 Mr. Blsland. Work I need now, child, more than sleep — 
 David is a good and trusty servant, but he cannot replace me 
 in all things. Be patient, I will soon return. (Exit.) 
 
 Blanche. Patience ! Ah, how nobly he bears it all. His heart 
 is as soft and gentle as a woman's, but the mind of man is 
 such, that it controls the softer feelings. And, how true 
 the father to the son. He wishes me ever to think well of 
 him who is now lost to me! Ah, Willie! How I do regret our 
 last parting ! But can my sorrow be measured with that of 
 your devoted parents ! At the sight of so much misery my 
 heart is ready to burst. (She falls into the chair and weeps.) 
 
 Curtain. 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 ONE YEAR HAS ELAPSED FROM THE OPENING. 
 
 Scene 1. Mr. Hawk at home. 
 Haick. (Reading paper.) Confound these newspapers any- 
 how! There's nothing to learn from them. (Throws the pa- 
 per away, and paces the room.) I have much to think about 
 
— 38 — 
 
 to-day. In the first place, my engagement with Mr. Batler. 
 Damn the fellow ! He wants to kill me right away. Ha ! ha ! 
 ha ! Well Sir ! I mean to put off that pleasant pastime for you 
 for a season at least. I have no desire to be made a target 
 for you. Francis, lawyer like, has undertaken to negotiate 
 for me, and will delay matters as long as possible. Mean- 
 while, I will arrange all my affairs,— and some bright sum- 
 mer's morning— ha, ha ! Koland Hawk will be missing— ha, 
 ha ! Yes— I must go abroad. T'is better to place the broad 
 Atlantic between this frantic youth and myself. — Besides,— I 
 have promised myself the pleasure of a Continental tour for 
 many a day. Now is the best time for it. There is nothing 
 to hold me back ! That woman has rejected me, and I have 
 now only to be avenged. I will strike deep down into your 
 heart, my lady ! The friends you revere so much, will be 
 driven from their home, and every wail that rises from that 
 quarter, will find a responsive echo in your heart. Revenge 
 is sweet ! ha, ha, ha ! Put on the screws, Mr. Francis ! Screw 
 them dow^n hard. Sir. Screw them down hard ! Show them 
 no mercy. (Kings a bell, and servant enters.) John, have y< mi 
 delivered my message to Mr. Francis ? 
 
 Servant. Yes, Sir! He will be here as soon as possible. 
 
 Hawk. Remember, I am not in for any one else. 
 
 Servant. I will mind you. Sir. 
 
 Hawk. You may go on packing, but not one word about it 
 to any one ! 
 
 Servant. All right, Sir. I think I heard the bell ! 
 
 Hawk. It must be Francis. Admit him at once. 
 
 (Servant goes out. Hawk lights a cigar. Mr. Francis enters.) 
 Ah ! Francis, I am glad you are punctual ! 
 
 Francis. Why so? Anything wrong? 
 
 Hawk. No,— not particularly so. But I wished to confer 
 with you — 
 
 Francis, xibout the duel?— 
 
 Hawk. Yes— and about other matters. Have a cigar ! 
 
 Francis. Mayo says, his man is chafing at the delay. 
 
 Hawk. Damn the fellow! Is he so anxious to become a 
 corpse? 
 
 Francis. He is practicing hard every day, and will make 
 Have you done any of that? 
 
Hawk. No— but I have nerve, Francis — and that will serve 
 as well. 
 
 Francis. Don't be over-confident, my friend! Better try 
 your weapons before hand. 
 
 Hawk. I will take good care of myself at the proper time. 
 Tell Mayo, I will soon be ready. Now for business. I want 
 the mortgage foreclosed. 
 
 Francla. What ! Already ! I promised Mr. Bisland to give 
 him a longer time. 
 
 Hawk. But you forget the other matter that confronts me. 
 I ought to have my affairs arranged before going on the field 
 of battle. 
 
 Francis. True. I had not thought of that. 
 
 Hawk. You must see Bisland to-day, and demand payment, 
 ill default of which, you must place the matter in the hands 
 of the Sheriff. After that is done — I can think better of giv- 
 ing Mr. Butler satisfaction. 
 
 Francis. Of course. As the challenged party, y-ou have the 
 right to determine upon the time and place of meeting. 
 
 Hawk. I mean to insist on my rights. But above all things, 
 let the mortgage be foreclosed without delay. 
 
 Francis. Very well ! I will see to that at once. The money 
 you say, or a peremptory sale? (He rises to go.) 
 
 Hawk. Yes ! There is no time for sentimentality now. 
 
 Francis. You are in dead earnest, I see— and that is surely 
 a display of nerve. Poor Butler ! 
 
 Hawk. Well Francis— you do your part, and I will do mine. 
 
 Francis. I am your man all the way through, Eoland! 
 (Shakes hands with him.) 
 
 Hawk. I know it, my good fellow! your friendship will 
 never be forgotten. By — bye! (Francis retires, and Hawk 
 bursts into a fit of laughter.) Good! I've thrown dust into 
 his eyes too ! Let him blow my horn for a few days longer, 
 and all will be well. There is nothing left for me to do, 
 except to write a few words of instruction to the Sheriff, 
 about the disposition of the money to be realized from the 
 sale of the farm. Every thing else has been transferred 
 by private conveyance — and now, I am ready, as Capt. 
 Portland says, 'to hoist sail'. Ho ! for Liverpool -Old Eng- 
 land! La Belle France, Eome and its monasteries!— and— 
 well — there's money enough to go round the world ten 
 
- 40 — 
 
 times ! Money enough, Miss Ludlow, to win the finest lady 
 in the land ! Bah ! My heart is not broken. It is as hard 
 as yours. 
 
 (He sits down to his desk or table to write, aud immediately the 
 scene changes into a street of the village lor a lew minutes, to enable 
 a change of scenery in the rear. ) 
 
 (Mr. Francis and Mr. Ludlow come out together from a 
 house.) 
 
 Ludlow. It was a sudden departure and I am glad the fel- 
 low has disappointed you, Francis, as you were engaged in a 
 bad cause. That man Hawk is a fiend,— and anything you 
 can do now to thwart him, will be gratefully appreciated by 
 myself, as well as by the public at large. You have an im- 
 mense influence among the people, and I beg of you to use it 
 in behalf of my poor friend Bisland. 
 
 Francifi. Mr. Ludlow, you will permit me to say that I 
 am not the only one who has been deceived by this man's 
 character. It was only yesterday I saw him, and I always 
 took him to be a gentleman and a man of courage, and for 
 that reason was willing to serve him. As I have been made 
 a dupe of, by him, and compromised my name in a measure, 
 I intend now as you suggest, to serve Mr. Bisland to the full 
 extent of my ability. The sale will take place to-day, and I 
 will be promptly on the ground to look after his interest. 
 
 Ludlow. This is indeed gratifying to me. Poor Bisland 
 
 may yet be saved of his home, and your intervention, Mr. 
 
 Francis, will surely do it. Let us go at once.— 
 
 (Exeunt.) 
 
 (This short scene is drawn aside for the next regular scene.) 
 
 Scene 2. (Court Hout^e in vieic--Pi>.bUc Stand, and Placard. 
 A crowd of people assembled.— Slier Iff r^ings a bell, and calls.) 
 
 Sheriff. Attention !— Under a process of law, and pursuant 
 to a decree of the Honorable Court for this District, the 
 Sheriff, by virtue of a writ of seizure, will this day proceed to sell 
 at public auction to the highest bidder,the following property, 
 to-wit:— "The farm, together with all the buildings and im- 
 provements thereon, rights, ways and advantages thereunto 
 belonging or in any wise appertaining : Said property known 
 as the Bisland Farm, situated within the jurisdiction of said 
 
 ^ 
 
— 41 — 
 
 Honorable Court, to be sold in satisfaction of judgment. 
 Terms, cash on the spot.".— Sale takes place inside, gentle- 
 men, without further delay. (He descends from the stand, 
 goes into the Court House, and is followed by the crowd.) 
 
 (Mr. Higgins leaves the crowd, and is met by Butler and 
 Mayo who appear on the scene. Sheriff's voice heard occa,- 
 sionally.) 
 
 Higgins. I can't go in there, to see another man slaught- 
 ered ! That is something I never expected to hear of— farmer 
 Bisland sold out for debt—! Why, Sir, I can't understand it! 
 
 Ma\io. Not so hard to understand, Higgins. I'm told that 
 Hawk had a mortgage on the place. — 
 
 Higgins. A mortgage, for what? Damee Sir, I know the 
 property was free from debt. My old friend Bisland told me 
 so himself ! 
 
 Maijo. That may be all true. But I do know, that this 
 property is being sold under a judgment obtained by Roland 
 Hawk.— 
 
 Butler. The swindler! How many victims does he count 
 here? 
 
 Higgins. You are right, Sir. It can't be nothing else but 
 a swindle. Squire Bisland is too honest a man to ow^e any 
 one a dollar. 
 
 Butler. And I say furthermore, that this man Hawk is 
 a coward, —a poltroon of the first water! 
 
 Mayo. Do you know the fellow has fled — and sold out 
 lock, stock and barrel? 
 
 Higgins. No! (Eagerly:) How's that? when was that? 
 
 Mayo. Well, do you remember the sciuabble that occurred 
 at your house, when there came very near being a murder? 
 
 Higgins. I do indeed! I never will forget it, Sir. Mrs. 
 Higgins had her first fit of hysterics that clay. — 
 
 Mayo, Well- Butler here, sent him a challenge. Of course 
 we had to keep it quiet. He accepted the challenge but 
 would 'nt name the day. 
 
 Higgins. The law^ is against fighting duels, is'nt it? 
 
 Butler. Damn the law, if I could have winged the fellow ! 
 
 Higgins. He would have deserved it! Where is he gone? 
 
 Ma'jo. Mr. Francis, who answers for him, is unable to 
 say. He showed us a note in which Hawk tells him he is 
 
— 42 — 
 
 unexpectedly called away ; and Francis is so put out about 
 it. I think he is ready to fight himself. 
 
 Higgins. Well, gentlemen, I am glad indeed to hear all 
 that. I hope we have got rid of that man ! 
 
 Batter. That's poor satisfaction for me ! 
 
 Hlggins. All the better, Mr. Butler. If you have run him 
 away without having had to fight with him, I say it's all the 
 better. Oh ! this will be glorious news for Mrs. Higgins. If she 
 begins to cry about this here sale, I will just tell her about 
 the runaway, and then I know she will clap her hands for 
 joy— Oh! this is glorious news! Glorious, glorious! (Laughs 
 heartily. ) 
 
 Mayo. I think, we've seen the last of him. (Sheriff is 
 heard.) 
 
 Batter. Come, Frank! Let's attend the sale. (And they 
 go.) 
 
 (Dave appears, and is greeted by Mr. Higgins.) 
 
 Higgins. Ah, Dave ! This is a sad day for the Squire ! 
 
 Dave. Yes, Mr. Higgins. The poor squire and his lady are 
 waiting now to hear who is master of the farm. x4Lnd it's me 
 that's got to bring back the news to them. This is the worse 
 job I ever had to do in my whole life! I tried to dodge it— 
 but saj's the Squire to me — "Dave, my good boy— go to the 
 sale, and let me know who has bought the farm in." Says 
 he, I can't ask any one else to do that for me. It may be the 
 last service you can do for me as Master here," and the old 
 man broke right down, and coul'nt speak any more. (Dave 
 wipes his eyes and Mr. Higgins scratches his head, and 
 clears his throat.) How different everything was a year ago. 
 The squire was happy — his lady was happy — the squire's son 
 was here. But the happy days are all gone now. — 
 
 Higgins. Don't you think the squire's bad luck all comes 
 from his son's acquaintance with Koland Hawk? 
 
 Dave. To be sure. Sir! It was a dark day when the young- 
 man fell in with him. That man was bad in more ways than 
 one. The last time he took the squire's son away with him— 
 and that was but two days before he went to sea,— I watched 
 him. It was in the lane, close by tc Mr. Ludlow's garden. 
 What was the spalpeen a doing there, and a skulking around 
 
— 43 — 
 
 you ask me? Well, Sir, I will tell you. He was laying snares, 
 and a trying to turn the head of a honest young woman. 
 
 Higgln^. What! Laying snares for Miss Ludlow? 
 
 Dave. Worse than that, Squire ! Snares, agin the young- 
 woman — who sarves Miss Blanche ! 
 
 Higgin.<. The rascal ! 
 
 Dave. Sallie is a honest girl— and, she told me more than 
 you could listen to. If my eyes could av seen it, I would have 
 broke the scoundrel's neck just where I found him. So help 
 me (jrod, I would ! Bad luck to you, my fine gentleman, for 
 your devil's tricks agin honest Sallie! (He shakes his fist.) 
 
 Higg'uis. Well, Dave, I've good news for you. The rascal 
 will never trouble you again. 
 
 Dave. How so. Squire Higgins? Is'nt he rich and up in 
 the world? And is'nt he free to come and go as he please? 
 We poor folks das'nt speak agin the likes of him. 
 
 Hig0ins. Hear me out, Dave! The fellow is gone, — and I 
 believe will never come back again. 
 
 Dave. The Lord be thanked for that! How did it come about 
 Squire? Tell me about it! 
 
 Higglaa. Well, come over to the Inn, and I will talk to 
 you— We can get the news of the sale there as well as here — 
 
 Dave. Squire ! I will follow you any where to hear what 
 you've got to say. (Exeunt.) 
 
 I Two strangers come in hurriedly on the scene —They ap- 
 pear a little under excitement.) 
 
 (The auction sale is i)rogressing— The strangers stop and 
 listen.) 
 
 i.si Stranger. Here we are at last ! See there— a placard ! 
 (Points to it, and his companion reads.) 
 
 •2d Stranger. It is the sale. (Excitedly :) I hope we are in 
 time! 
 
 lut Stranger. Lose no time. Bid high, and let it not slip 
 through your hands. It is a rare chance ! 
 
 2d Stranger. I will buy it, if it takes all my wealth ! Come 
 on! 
 
 \Ht stranger. Give them a broad-side, and no quarter! 
 
 (The strangers enter the Court-House.-Mr. Ludlow appears.) 
 
— u — 
 
 Ludlow. There is no use of my appearing' tliere. Tlie 
 Slieriff has my bid, and if there be no competition, as I have 
 reason to liope there will not be, the property will appar- 
 ently pass into my hands, neighbor Bisland will be secured 
 of his house, and the mortgagee will not realize one half of 
 his claim. It is a peremptory sale, without conditions, and 
 Francis tells me, the title will be made good. Well, if mat- 
 ters turn out as I wish them, Francis will certainly deserve 
 some credit for the part he has taken. He certainly is more 
 of a friend now to Bisland than to the other man. (Butler 
 and Maj'o have appeared on the scene.) Ah, gentlemen ! you 
 are just from the sale ? What result V 
 
 Butler. Sold ! Knocked down to a stranger ! 
 
 Ludlow. What do you tell me! The farm passed into the 
 hands of a stranger! Who can it be ? 
 
 Mayo. A total stranger to us ! The Sheriff was just on the 
 point of knocking down to you, wiien suddenly a voice was 
 heard in the rear, and five hundred better offered.— 
 
 Ludlow. (With disappointment : ) This is certainly an un- 
 locked for result ! Was Francis there ? 
 
 Mcujo. I saw Francis. He looked rather bewildered. 
 
 Butler. The crowd too, seemed dissatisfled. As there was 
 but little competition, the place sold for only half value. 
 
 Ludlow. (Excitedly :) What was the Sheriff about ? As our 
 plan was frustrated, he should have run it up to the highest 
 figure ! 
 
 Butler. He was kn(»cked clear off his pins ! 
 
 Ludlow. It looks like a conspiracy! Gentlemen, let us go 
 to the Inn ! These strangers are apt to go there. I will make 
 another effort for poor Bisland. (The crowd come out of the 
 Court House.) 
 
 Butler. And I, will do all I can to thwart the villain ! 
 
 Exeunt. 
 
 (This Scene is shut off by a Ruadirfiy—fov change of Scenery in rear.) 
 
 1st Stranger. It was a narrow escape anyhow ! Five minutes 
 more, and it would have been too late. 
 
 i'd stranger. Yes— and it was an inspiration that led me to 
 take up that Portsmouth paper. The advertisement or 
 Sheriff's notice was the first thing that caught my eye. We 
 
have been favored thus far, bej'ond my most sanguine ex])ee- 
 tations. 
 
 Jst Stranger. Here are the forks of the road ! Your path 
 lies to the left, and mine to the right. We part here. 
 
 Sfd Stranger. Yes -but to meet again. (They separate and 
 disappear.) 
 
 Dave. (Appears. ) If I had stayed longer, I might have 
 kiiowed more about it. But, no one could tell me! Oh, this 
 is a hard, hard life ! To work so hard and long, and lose it 
 all in one day. And me ! I will lose my Sal ! No popping the 
 question now! Why, she'd turn up her nose and tell me to 
 git ! Would you be that mean to me Sal? Oh no ! She's a hon- 
 est gal, and would only sa5% "Dave, you must wait a spell.'* 
 —Wait! Yes, I will wait til my hair turns gray, if you will 
 wait for me, honey ! Here 'a the forks! This road leads right 
 to my Sal! That one— well, I'll take it! Don't give up the 
 ship Dave, even if she be sinkin ! (Exit.) 
 
 (This scene is pushed aside, to make place for the tiual scene, i 
 
 Scene 3. Home of the Blslands. 
 
 3frs. Bisland. (In deep mourning, is occupied in knitting.) 
 Husband! Is the home to be sold to-day? — Well, why don't 
 you want to say it ? I know the mortgage is pressed against 
 us, and I know you cannot pay it! I have thought it over and 
 over. The wheat has failed and the corn fallen short, in a 
 way that never happened before. I know it is best to give it 
 — it is best that the debts be paid, the debts that our thought- 
 less Willie in the hour of his weakness made. And he, dear 
 boy, w^ould have paid them— you know it husband as well as 
 I— if the ship had not gone down in the billows, that night, 
 on the dark stormy sea ! But somehow, I have not ceased' 
 hoping— I have never ceased to pray, that a merciful Provi- 
 dence would shield us here, and save us on this terrible day ! 
 
 Bisland. Dear wife! Y'ou bear it nobly! Need I conceal 
 from you now, that our home is to be sold to-day ! There ! It 
 is wrong to grieve you so — you have had enough to bear! 
 
 Mrs. Bisland. Ah Willie, my baby boy ! I hope you cannot 
 see us ! It would grieve you to know the trouble that has come 
 to father and me ! Husband ! How can we leave it, the home 
 we have always known ! It seems as if it was breaking my 
 
— 46 — 
 
 heiirt, but the fount of my tears is dry. It may be the man 
 that will own it, will be chopping itdown or digging it up and 
 burning it out of the way. Why every bush on the dear old 
 place, is as dear as a tried old friend. No other place in 
 the wide, wide w^orld will ever be half so dear. 
 
 Blsland. Dear wife ! — Let us grieve only after the dead. 
 
 Mrs. Bldand. Yes, yes'— I am but a sorry help meet, since 
 I have so childish grown. There— there! (caressingly) go 
 on to the village, and let me have it out alone. (Mr. Bisland 
 goes out sadly.) Poor Thomas! he's growing feeble— he 
 steps so weary and slow ! There is not much in his looks to- 
 day like twenty years ago! But I know his heart is youthful, 
 as it was when we were w^ed, and his love as strong as ever 
 for me, and for Willie— our boy that's dead ! Oh AVillie ! my 
 baby boy— Shall I never see thee more— never hear thy foot- 
 steps coming through the open door ! I knew when my boy was 
 coming, be it ever so early or late— he w^as always whistling 
 "Home, sweet home" as he opened the garden gate! And 
 many and many a moment, since the night w^hen the ship 
 went down, have I started up at a whistle like his, out there 
 on the road from town. And in many a night of sorrow, in the 
 silence early and late, have I held my breath at a footstep that 
 seemed to pause at the gate. But now— I am well nigh hope- 
 less, since hope for my boy has fled, for selling the farm 
 means giving him up, and knowing for sure he's dead. Hist! 
 I hear footsteps nowM Can that be Thomas coming! He 
 usually steps so slow! There's something that sounds like 
 gladness, and the man he used to be! (Mr. Bisland enters 
 smiling.) What Thomas! Why are you smiling? looking so 
 gay and light? Why don't you tell me quickly?— must we go 
 ^rom the farm to-night? (He smiles.) What's that! You bring 
 me tidings, tidings of wonderful joy? Oh Thomas -you can- 
 not mean it! Here-let me look in your face! (He w-hispers to 
 her)— Tell me again— (She looks around at the open door and 
 sees her son standing there.) Iti3--(with ajoyful cry) Willie! ! 
 
 (He rushes to his Mother and holds her in his embrace for 
 a minute, and falls on his knee before her.) 
 
 Willie.— Oh, Mother dear! Do you forgive me ? I have come 
 back to bring you joy! See here, a title deed! It is father's— 
 it is yours! The home is yours f orever ! — (The mother again 
 embraces her son, and speaks :) 
 
— 47 — 
 
 Mi's. Bisland. May God be praised for his mercy to us!— 
 Willie my son ! There has been a ministering angel with us 
 all the while in our sorrow — She is here — and in waiting- 
 Come !— Love her, my Son— oh, love her truly! and may Hea- 
 ven bless you both ! (Mother and Son go out.) 
 
 Bisland. (Advances to meet Mr. Ludlow who has just en- 
 tered with Capt. Portland.) Dear Ludlow, I am glad to see 
 you ! 
 
 Ludlow. I congratulate you, friend Bisland ! Let me intro- 
 duce Capt. Portland, who is anxious to take you by the hand. 
 
 Bidand. (Extending his hand.) I bear you no ill will, Cap- 
 tain ! You are welcome here ! 
 
 Capt. Portland. Sir, I could expect to hear nothing less 
 from the father of the noble youth who saved my life ! 
 
 Bisland. Indeed ! Did my son save your life in the ship- 
 wreck? The praises of my son sound like sweet music to me. 
 Sir! 
 
 Ludlow. Captain, relate the adventure! I know you are a 
 live man now, but I would like to know how near you came 
 to being a dead man ! 
 
 Capt. P. Willie can tell it better than I. Where is he, 
 Mr. Bisland? But for him, I repeat, I would have been food 
 for the sharks. 
 
 Bisland. He is at present with his mother and— sweet heart. 
 (Laughing.) 
 
 Capt. P. Let them be happy together ! What atonement 
 can I make for having unwittingly caused them so much 
 misery ! 
 
 Bisland. Say not so. Captain! It has all happened for the 
 best. God in His mercy has ordained that we should some- 
 times taste of the cup of bitterness, to fully appreciate the 
 magnitude of His power and greatness. 
 
 Ludlow. This has also been a severe test of Willie's courage 
 and devotion. I am better satisfied, Bisland, to give my 
 daughter away to such a man, than to one wlio has never 
 known the troubles and disappointments of life. ^ 
 
 Capt. P. Very true. Sir. It is aptly said, that "It is an ill 
 wind that blows no one good." 
 
 Ludlow. Bisland ! The Captain and I have agreed to take 
 your son, the late super cargo of our ship, into partnership 
 with us. 
 
— 48 — 
 
 Crtpi. P. Yes, Sir, he will henceforth be third owner of onr 
 new ship ! 
 
 Blsland. Gentlemen, your generosity exceeds all bounds ! 
 Is Willie aware of his good fortune? 
 
 Capt. F. I have no family of my own, Sir, and he has be- 
 come my son by adoption— therefore he inherits all I've got. 
 I have told him so — (WilHe enters with his mother on one arm 
 and Blanche on the other.) 
 
 Willie, Captain! Here is my mother, who is very anxious 
 to know you ! 
 
 Capt. P. Madam, will you permit me to congratulate you 
 on the happy restoration of your son? 
 
 Mrs. Bisland. I thank you, Sir, for your good wishes as well 
 as for your friendship for my boy. 
 
 Capt. P. But what think you ladies of my taking him off 
 to sea again ? I have a new ship ! 
 
 Mrs. Bisland. (Aghast.) Oh, do not think of it, Sir I 
 
 Blanche. (Amazed.) You cannot be speaking seriously! 
 
 Willie. Capt. Portland's well knowm ideas of the disquali- 
 fication of married men for the sea precludes any thought of 
 seriousness ! 
 
 Capt. P. (Abruptly.) But you are not a married man, Sir. 
 
 Willie. Soon to be though ! (Smiling on Blanche. She con- 
 ceals herself behind Mrs. Bisland.) 
 
 Mrs. Bisland. Oh fle, gentlemen ! Spare her blushes! 
 
 Dare. (Appears.) Mr. Higgins and his w'ife are without I 
 
 Bisland. Admit them, Dave!— They are honest folks, and 
 have not been here for a long time. (They enter.) Welcome, 
 friends — welcome ! 
 
 Higgins. I heard of your good luck. Squire, and me and 
 Mrs. Higgins could 'nt help coming — 
 
 Mrs. Bisland. (Offering Mrs. Higgins a seat.) It was kind 
 of you to come with Mr. Higgins! 
 
 Mrs. Higgins. Well, I'm right glad to see that boy back 
 
 ajTfain 
 
 Willie. Thank you. Ma'am ! ^ 
 
 Mrs. Higgins. Ah Sir! Many a fret have I had about you— 
 Ask Mr. Higgins there ! 
 
 Higgins. (Looking rather disconcerted.) Well Sir! Mrs. 
 Higgins has always had a level head about most things you 
 know ! The Inn couldn't Avell go without her! 
 
— 49 — 
 
 Mrs. Higgins. Neither could Sam Higgins, you'd better 
 say! 
 
 Capt. P. I will testify to that, Mrs. Higgins. You are as in- 
 dispensable to your husband as a rudder to a ship. 
 
 Higgins. Well said, Captain ! And she's all spread too when 
 her sails are flapping! (Laughs.) 
 
 Mrs. Higgins. ('Astonished.) Mr. Higgins! 
 
 Bisland. Never mind them, Mrs. Higgins. They speak only 
 to your advantage. What say you, Ludlow ? 
 
 Ludlow. Mrs. Higgins, like all true women, knows her 
 own importance better than I can tell it ! 
 
 Higgins. That's it, Squire ! and they never fail to tell you 
 so— (laughs.) 
 
 Mrs. Higgins. (Irritated.) Mr. Higgins!! 
 
 Bisland. Well, life is made very sweet in their companion- 
 ship; and without them, our sorrows are made more bitter. 
 (Taking his wife's arm.) In this Old Farm House, we two, 
 have spent many happy hours together — and now that our 
 boy has been restored to us, we hope to make it still our 
 "Home, sweet home." Curtain. 
 
 —^-73^1^^ 
 
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