THE STANDARD DRAMA.
EGe trting 6bihr1x.
No. CCXXV.
THE ROMANCE OF
A POOR YOUNG MAN.
3 prXmti, altpte~ from fro t,frrtj of
OCTAVE FEUILLET,
BY MESSRS. PIERREPONT EDWARDS AND LESTER WALLACK.
TO WHICH ARE ADDED
A Description of the Costume-Cast of the Characters-Entrances and ExitsRelative Positions of the Performers on the Stage, and
the whole of the Stage Business
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1859, by LESTER WALLACK, in the
Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of New York.
NEW YORK:
SAMUEL IFRENCH, PRU B LISHEIR,
122 NASSAU STREET, (UP STAIRS.)




CHARACTERS REPRESENTED.
jfctnttel, Afarquis de Cliampcey,.............   Mr. Lester Walrhck.
Doctor Desmarets,-formerly of the French Army... Mr. Brouaham
M. de Bevannes-a man of the world,...........          Mr. Walcot
Gaspar Laroque-an aged man, for-                        Mr Dyott
merly Captain of a Prtvateer,                         M      o..
Alai —a confidential domestic,...................Mr. Young.
Ml. Nouret-a Notary,..........................Mr. Levere.
YT'onnet-a JBreton Shpherd,...........Mr. Bakel.
Henri......................- Mr.... Oliver.
Louis......................................... Mr. Coburn.
Madame Laroque —Daughter-in-Law to Gaspar,.....Mrs. Vernon.
Mlarguerite —her daiughter,........................Mrs. Hoey.
MI lle Helouin-a Governess,....................
Madame Aubrey-a relative of the Laroque family, Miss AMary Gannon
Louise Vauberger-formerlynuise to  anuel, t                    ot
now keeper of a lodging house,. Walcot.
Christine-a Bretonpeasant girl,............  Miss Fanny Reeves.
Guests, Servants, -Peasantry, 4c., c4c.
The events of the Drama take place (during the 1st Act) in Paris,
afterward in the Province of Britanny.
Costumes of the-present-day.
The Overture, incidental. Musie,:-amd -Chrtes  compsed and -ar.
ranged by -Mr.-Robert Sttopel.




A POOR YOUNG MIAN.
— 10.   -I- -    — __  
TABLEAU  I.
A Room, simply furnished-Table,.c~hairs, Arm Chair. Secrekaire,
Side Table -Door c.
MIADAME VAUBERGER,peeps in L.
Madame Vauberger. No; he has not yet returned. [Enters.] Tihinas
cannot go on in this manner much longer-I shall have to speak out,
and plainly too. And why not? Surely lie won't take it ill fiom
-me —all, no. I, who loved 1h  poor mother so, could never-What's
this?  A purse! empty!  And this key, left carelessly lying about;
that's a bad sign. [Opens Secretaire.] No, not one solitary sous —his
last coin came yesterday to pay me the rent. In the drawer, perhapsDR. DESMARETS looks in.
Dr. Desmarets. IHallo! [She.starts:] What are-you at there?
iMad:V. Me, sir? Iwas just —I was justDes. Poking your nose into that drawer-that what you call
just?
Mad. V. I was dustingand putting the thingas in order, sil:
Des. I'll tell you what, Madame V., you're an extraordinary
woman. Yesterday, when I called, you were dusting-half-an-hour
-ago when I called, you were dusting —and now,' when I call agaain,
you're dusting. Where the devil you find so much dust to dust, I
can't think.
Mad. -. Ah, sir, look into; this drawer.
Des. What for?
Mad. V. Is it not the place - where, if one had money, one;would
naturally keep it?
Des. I -suppose so. What of that:?
Mad. V. See, sir, it-is empty.
Des. What's that to me?
Mlad. V. And his purse, also,
Des. What's that to you?      [Goes up and puts hat on table.
Mad. V  [Aside.] I:dare mnt:.tell him:that "Manuel is without a




4                    A POOR YOUNG MAN.
meal —starving —I should never be forgiven. His pride would be
wounded, and nothing could excuse that.
Des. Well, what are you cogitating about. Looking for somethin- to dust?
liad. V. I'm thinking of the Marquis, sir.
]Des. Well, what of him.
Mad. V. Is it not dreadful?  Brought up as he has been-surrounded by every luxury-and now reduced to want even. Oh! it is
too hard-too hard!
Des. Well, it's his own fault, isn't it?  There was enough left fiom
the wreck of his father's property, to give him a sort of a living, and
le must needs go and settle it all upon his little sister Helen.
MIad. V. And for what? To give her the education befitting her
rank.
Des. Fudge!
Mad. V. Doctor Desmarets, your're very unfeeling.
Des. Oh, of course, of course. I give him  good advice, he rejects it. I withdrawn  my sympathy, and then I'm  unfeeling. If he
can't manage better with the little that's left hinm, egad! he may
think himself lucky that he can get his daily meals.
Ilad. V. Sir, he can't even —[4side.] Oh, if I daredDes. Can't even what?  Send for his coupe, I suppose, or drink
Chateau margaux-terrible hardships, truly  When there's nothing
else in a man's pocket, lie had better put his pride there, and button
it up, tight.
Mad. V. Some day, sir, we shall find that he has taken poison, or
cut his throat.
Des. Ah! and then there'll be nothing to dust.
Mad. V. Monsieur, I repeat it —you're unfeeling. Dut I, who loved
and served his dear maother, whom he so much resembles —:
Des. Not a bit-hasn't a look of her. The father, the father all
over.
Maad. V. Of course. So you always say, and everybody knows
why. You loved the poor Marchioness, offered her your hand, and
she preferred the Marquis.
Des. Madame!
MIad. V. I don't care. I will speak my mind. And because she
refused you, you have no regard for her son.
Des. Madame!
MIad. V. But if he has his father's face, he has his mother's heart,
Des. Much you know about it.
Mad. V. And who should know if I don't? Havn't I attended him
since he was an infant?
Des. Well, and havn't Iattended him -since he was an infant I
Mad. V. Wasn't I-with him during-every sickness?
Des. Wasn't I with him too?
Mad. V. Didn't I nurse him?.
Des. Didn't I cure him?
Mad. V. Wouldn't I follow him through the world?




A POOR YOUNG MAN.                      5
Des. Didn't I bring him into it?
ilad. Y. Yes, and if things go on at this rate, he won't have much
to thank you for.
Des. How do you know?  How do you know, you foolish old
woman you.
MANUEL appears.
Man. Heyday! the only two friends I have in the world at high
words?  What can have caused this?
lIad. V. My lord, the Doctor says you_Man. Me! rmy dear Doctor, you never were quarrelling about so
unimportant a person, surely?
iDes. No matter for that. But I have some business with the Marquis, if this very positive old lady will allow me the luxury of an interview with him-a private interview. Pray, ma'am, may I trespass
on your indulgence?
Ilad. V. Truly, Doctor, your campaign in the Crimea has improved
neither your manners, or your beauty.              [Exit L. H.
Des. Confound her impudence! The attack on my manners I could
forgive, but my beauty-that's a tender point.
Alan. Ah, Doctor, you must pardon her brul-sque manner. — If she's
poor in courtesy, she's rich in a rarer gift-fidelity.
Des. 01h! hang her! let her go. And now to your affairs. Your
father's death occurred while I was with the armn, in the Crimea.
Rumors reached me there, but I have never heard the full particulars.
I would not willingly revive a painful theme, but as an old friendAMan. Nay, I shall be more satisfied when you know the facts.
When you left France you know what our position was, ani what our
style of living.
Des. All the luxuries that money could procure-a mansion in Paris, an ancestral chateau,pand a stable that could boast the best blood
in France.
Man. Two months after the death of my dear mother, I went to
Italy, by my father's desire, and for several years I traveled through
Europe, at my pleasure. During this time his letters to me were affectionate, but brief, and never expressed any desire for my return.
Two months ago, on arriving at Marseilles, I found several letters
fion llim awaiting me, each of them begging me to return home with
all poss4le haste.
Des. I remember, itwas some time previous to that, that I heard
his name mentioned in connection with some unfortunate speculations in the stocks.
fMan. I arrived at night. The ground was white. with snow. As I
passed up the avenue-made still da1rker by the old trees wlaich
overshadowed it-I could hear tile frost shaken from the branches,
seeming, as it fell around me, like a warning of bitter tears to comne.
Hardly had I crossed the threshold when my father's arms were
around me. I could feel his heart beating against my own, with a
force almost painful. He led me to a sofa, and placed himself direct



86A P OOR, YOUNG MA.
ly in front of me, when, as if longing to reveal something which yet
he. dared not namle, le fixed: his eye-s on nline with- an expression- of
supl)lication, of agony, of shlame, vondrous in a nian so ha unllty and
so proud.  It was enollh! The \vrong- he had conmm~itted, yet
could not confess, I divined full well-God  knows how full:, llowv
freely I forasve it!  Suddenly, that look, which never quitted me,
became fixed, rigid. The pressure of his hand on mine became a
g!ipe of iron.  He arose —the eyes wandered, the hand relaxed, and
he fell dead at myr feet!
Des. [.4fter a patnse.] Well, well, it is a sad history, for he left
utter ruin for your portion. But come, you must riot look back.
"Forward" must be the watchword now. Mr. Faveau, your family
lawyer. tells me that the little that remained to you, after paying your
father's debts, you have appropriated to making a fine lady of your
sister.
Alan. To educate her, doctor.
Des. Well, well, same thing; so that you, yourself, have literally
nothing to speak of —hardly enough to give you bread.
Jlan. Hardlv.
Des. Under these circumstances you will perhaps be disposed ta
the favorable consideration of a proposal I have to nake..Man. Name it, sir, for at present, I confess I have fbomed no plans
of my own. I was so little prepared to find tryself quite a beaggar.
Were I alone in the world, I would become a soldier.  But my sister,
that would involve prolonged absence from  her —perhaps an early
death.  Mlly darling-I cannot endure the tholght of knowing her
compelled to suffer the privations, the labor, and the dangers of poverty.  She is happy at her school and young enough to remain there
for some years to come. If I could but find some occupation by whiclh,
even were I obliged to impose the severest restraints upon myself. it
would be possible to save enough for her marriage portion, I should
be more than content.
Des. An employment to suit a man of your ranklan. Ohl, my deal Doctor-rankDes. Well, well, of your edfucation, then, is not easily found. Now,
mark what I am  going to say, and consider it well, before you come
to a hasty conclusion.  There is, among my patients, a retired imercliant, one who has been able, by indefatigable industry in trade, to
amass a very handsome fortune.  His dauhllter, an only chilh, and of
course, the father's darling, has, by chance, become acquain.ted with
the state of your affairs.  Now, I have reason to know, (b)eing onl very
conlfidential terms wiitl them.) I say I have reas,,n to kto;w flinta tlhis
gilrl, anmbitious, hlandsome, rich, and accompilished, would be hap)py
to sh1are your title.  I have the fatler's consent, and only await the
word frorn you to —
Alan. Dr. Desmarets, my name is neither for sale, or to let.
Des. Humph!  Do you know, my lord, that you bear a remarkable resemblance to your poor mother I




a pqo10 Yr4,.UM  M$.                    7
Man. Y -I must he mistaken, sir. I have always been told that I
was more. like my father.
Des. Not a bit! The mother, the mother, sir, in every feature.
But, bless me, it's near eleven o'clock and I hlave a most particular
appointment. As you decline considering the proposal. I have made.
wve must think of something else. Au revoir. [Aside.i] The mathereyes, nose, moulth. What the devil made thaot stupid old womlan say
hb. was like his father i                              [Exit c.
Malln. He's a kind man, tlhough ab little eccentric, and: apart from
his p.rofessional duty, seems actuated by a, sincere desire to serve me,
and yet-and yet I could not bring myself to ask his clharity. Hunlger-starvaLion —are not, then, mere empty words. Oh! if I do sin in
my pride, I am punished, for I suffer much. This is the second day
with out food. Why, affter all, I cuald go into any Restaurlalt and
dine, for I am. well enough known. I could; say I had forgotten my
purse-have done so without sclruple in happier times, but then I
had the means to pay, arid now-s-no, no, my sister, not for life, not
even for thee, will I descend to lie and cheat. Ho.w weak I amn; this
comes too scoon upon nly long sickness. If I could bkut sleep aund so.
forget my agony. And there are human creatures who suffer every
day as I do lnow. My sister, my little sister, I seew to see thy tlear
face looking down upon me, and biddinu me be comforted.  [Mlhusic.]
Thu, at least, shall never suffer. But for those who hear their cries
of huinoer repeated from the mouths of starving little ones, well,
well, God comifort them; I will not re —Oh-holy-charity-forthose -who —mv sistel-mvMANUEL gradually falls asleep. MADAME VAUBERGER enters with a
Tray, containing a dish or two with eatables, a plate, $c. She
mwatches MANUEL carefully while she depsoits the Tray on the chimney-piece and lays a cloth on the table. MANUEL awakes as she
goes back to thie chimney-piece for - tray.
Alan. Eh-who's that   Ah, me! What are you doing, Madame 
3Maod. V. Did you not order dinner, my lord?
lan. Certainlv not.
Mad. V. Why they told meMlan. Then they were, mistaken.  It's for sbme of the other
lod gers.
Mada. V. But there's no other lodgers on this floor, and I really
cannot think whatM'an. At any rate, it is not for me. Take it away.
Mad. V. [After slowly taking of cloth.] My lord has probably
dinei j
M]an. Probably.
Mad. V. Dear me, dear me, what a pity. A good dinner spoiled,
wasted:  Really, if you had not dined, my lord, it would s9 oblige
me ifgMan. Will you go or not?  [She is dejectedly going, when MANUEL calls.]  Louise, I understand, and I thank you, but I am not well




8                    A POOR YOUNG MAN.
to-day. I have no desire to eat. [He turns away. MADAME. VAVBERGER quietly comes back and gently places the dinner on the table.
Mad. V. Alh, my Lord, if YOU knew how you wound my heart.
Come now, you shall pay me for the dinner-there-you shall put
the money into my hand the moment you have it. But indeed, indeed, if you were to give me a hundred thousand francs, it would
nlot cause me half the pleasure that I should feel in seeing you eat
my poor little dinner. Oh, surely, surely, you can comprehend that.
Man. I do, Louise, I do-and as I can't give you the hundred
thousand fiancs, why, I'll eat your dinner.
Mad. V. No; will you?
aian. Louise, your hand. Don't be alarmed, I'm  not going to
put money into it.               [She timidly gives her hand.
Mad. V. Oh! thank you, thank you, my lord, a thousand times.
Now, I'll leave you to your dinner. Ah! how good of you to accept
nmy poor gift. You have a noble heart.             [Exit c.
Man. And a monstrous appetite.' My kind, faithful Louise. Well,
well, let us to dinner, since dinner there is. Come, come, here's
life for another day or so, at least, and that's something.
DOCTOR and MADAME VAUBERGER heard without.
Des. Nonsense. nonsense; I don't believe a word of it.
Mad. V. I tell you sir,'tis true; you might have seen it.
Des. [Entering.] But, confound it, woman-I didn't see it, and it
was your business to tell me.
4Mad. V. It wasn't.
Des. It was.
Man. What's the matter now?
Des. Matter enough! That stupid womanMan. Dcctor, will you do me the pleasure to dine with me?
Des. My lord, you have done wrong.
Man. Indeed!.Des. For you have wounded a friend. You have been cruel.
Man.'Cruel!
Des. For you have made an old man blush.
Man. I!
Des. Yes, you! why was I left in ignorance?  lHow could you,
Manuel. why didn't you. Damn it, sir'? how dare you starve without
letting me know?
Alan. Sir, I could notDes. My poor boy; there, there, eat your dinner; I've news for
you.
Man. News!
Des. Yes; eat your dinner.
Maln. But I want to listen.
Des. Well, you don't listen with your mouth, I suppose. Eat your
dinner.
Man. But —




A POOR YOUNG MAN.                      9
Des. Devil a word you'll get out of me, if you don't eat your
dinner.
Man. Well, well.                                    [Eats.
Des. Good! You remember I told you I had an appointment I
Man. Yes.
Des. Don't talk-eat! [MANUEL eats.] That appointment concerned vou. [MANUEL nods.] I think I've found employment for you.
M[an. Eli?                   [Pareses with a bit on his fork.
Des. In with it. [MANUEL puts it in his mouth.] Good! You are
aware, of course, that my practice and my residence is in the country.
I merely came to Paris on your account. [MANUEL lets go hisfork
to shake hands with the DOCTOR, who pats the fork into his hand
again.] Well, among the families with whom I am most intimate,
there is one, in particular, of great wealthl and importance. The
name is Laroque. The family have had for some years past; a managing man, a steward, who never was worth much. Indeed, the only
real service he has ever rendered them, he has just performed.
Mlan. Ran away?
Des. No, died. The moment I heard of this, I wrote to Madame
Laroque, asking his situation for a friern of mine. On leaving you,
I went to the post office, and found a letter awaiting me, with the
full consent of the family to my request. To be sure the position for
a man of your rankAMan. My rank, under present circumstances, is a mockery. I
shall, in future, take simply my Christian name of Manuel.
Des. I have only mentioned you in my letters as Monsieur Manuel,
anticipating that such would be your wish. You will have your own
apartments in a pavilion near the Chateau. Your salary will be so
regulated that you will be enabled to lay by a portion for your sister. Now, the only question remaining is, will this suit you?
Man. Admirably! My dear, kind friend, how shall I sufficiently
thank vou?
Des. Eat vour dinner.
Man. But am I fitted for the position 2
Des. Pretty well. You've learned one great requisite..
Man. What's that?
Des. Economy. As to the rest, the duties are simple enough. And
now I'll give you some notion of the people you are going to meet.
There are, in the Chateau, without counting visitors, five persons.
First, Monsieur Laroque, celebrated at the beginning of the present
century as a famous privateer Captain. Hence his large fortune. He
is now a feeble old man, mind and memory a good deal the worse for
wear.   Then there is Madame Laroque, his daughter-in-law, a
Creole-.Man. A Creole?
Des. Yes, young gentleman, an elderly Creole, with some eccentricities to be sure, but a good heart. Thirdly, there is Mademoisello
AMarguerite, her daughter, much youngerMan. That's singular.




0o                    i~A POOR YOUNG MAN.
Des. Eat your dinner. She is proud, somewhat romvntic, a little
thougahtless; —
Man. And her disposition?
Des. Sweet. Fou,'thly, MIadame Aubrey, a wid ow, a sort of second
cousit, old maidish, talkyalan. Disposition?
Des. So,lr.  Fifthly, Mademoiselle Helouin —Governess. Young,
good looking.
Alan. Disposition?
Des. Dubtful. And that completes the cataloaue.
Man. Delightful! Two good dispositions out of five. The proportion is enlormous!
Des. I'nl glad you look at things so hopefillly. When will you be
ready to accompany me to the Chateau?
Man. To-morrow —to-day.
Des. To-morrow will do. I shall be here for you early. [Going.
Man. I shall be ready.
Des. [Runs against MADAME V. who is coming in.] Confound it,
woman, take care!
Jlad. V. Why, Doctor, you ran against me.
Des. I didn't!
Mad. V. You did!
Nlan. What's the matter now?
Des. Eat your dinner i.,ED OP TABLEAV L
TABLEAU II.
A Saloon with bay windows opening on a Terrace, from which steps
descend to lawn and grotunds at back —Piano, R. U. E.-Books,'a.peas, Vases, 4c., 4-c.
DE BrEVMANES, DR. DESMARETS, MAD. LAROQUE, MARGUERITE, MIADEMOITSELLE.ELOULN, MAD. AUBREY discovered. As Curtain,'-ises,
M. DE BEVANNES is conversing with several young ladies on the
terrace at back. D)ESMARETS reading paper, L. c. MAIAIAME  LAROQUE wrapped in furs, L. reading a boqk. MARGUERITrE near her
mother, at tapestry wolrk.  MADaAME  AUBREY, R. C. )knitting.
MIAD'LLE IELOUIN oarranlging flowers in vase. R. Great tal/cing
and laughing from the.partiy on the tervace as the -curtain r'ises.
Bev#ns. Very well, veryr well, yonrmg ties, if you insist upon it.
The ladies are determined on a  waltz Mon the teraace..Madame Laroque. What I in the broiling sun?




POOR TOINq MmN.                        X
Bev. The roses do not fear the sun. Why should the lilies.
Ztaies [41 courtesey ] Oh, how pretty.
Bev. Yes, rather neat, I think. [To M14$GUERIT)E] Mademoiselle,
may L hope for the honor.
Mar. Thank you.  Despite your pretty  speech, I confess to  a
fear of waltzing in the sun.  But I'll play for you with pleasure.
[ Goes towards Fiano, R.
Ber. [Aside to her.] Always cruel;  [To MI'LLE  IELOUIN,j Mademoiselle, may I request the pleasure 3
31tlle. Jielouin. Oh! certainly.
Bev. [Aside to her.] Ever kind.
[NIARGU1RIaTI  plays-they waltz and gradually disappear.
Mfad. L. Have you seen mny new conservatory, Doctorl 
Des. No, Madame.
llad. L. Well, I must show it to you, if I can drag my self so far.
Des. Drag.  Why, good gracious! You're the picture of health
this momlmning-fresh as a rose.
Hlad. L. Fiesh   Frozen. It's a curious fact, Doctor, that since
I left ti,e Antilles, twelity years ago, I have never yet known what it
was to feel comfoJrtably warm.
Des. That accounts for your continued good looks.  Consult your
Cookery Book, page 18. Ift you want to preserve things fresh, you
must keep tsheq. cold.  And you, Madame, [To MADAMI   AUBE-Y]
how do you finld your-self.
Madame 4ubrey. ~Very weak, Doctor. I ate a tolerable breakfast
this tuornilg.
Des. [Aside.] You may say that. Threeeggs and abroilpdchicken.
Mad. A..  And! feel a fullness —Des. [4Asids. I should think so.
Mad, 4. Ip the head.
Des. Ah!
Mad. A. The fact is, Doctor, I am subject to such continual chagrin, such: cruel mortifieatiovs here. Dependent upon others tor certain luxuries which I can't get for -myself.
Des. Why not 3
Mad. A. Things are so dear.  Ah, Doctor, nothing will soothe me
but adeath.
Des. Well, 4t]aths cheap J
AMad. A. Brute!
AMar. [at P iato.] Jere they come again.
She p7ays.  T.e waltzers appeqr ons terrace.  Ins the midst of this
dancing. MANURL comes up steps, as if from  lawn below.  They
separate R. and L. and regard him twith some astontshment.  He
has a portfol o under his arrm.
Mar. Well, why -don't you go on?
Dei. [Cside.] At liast, [alosd.o  gadmpie:Laroque, permit me to
presea.t t9o ou, M. Manuel, the new Steward.




12                   A POOR YOUNG MAN.
MAD. LAROQUE rises and salutes MANVEL, at the same time ringing
a bell. A servant enters and goes to MANUEL, taking from him a
smal portmanteau, which he carries off. MARGUERITE goes over to
L. of MAD. LAROQUE.
Bev. Rather a stylish looking steward!
Mad. L. Why, Doctor, what does this meant You promised a
quiet, simple, steady young man, and you bring me a fine gentleman
like this.
As MANUEL comes down R. C., MAD'LLE HELOTUIN sees him.
Mlle. H. [Aside.] It is the Marquis de Champcey!
[Goes up to ladies.
MAD. AUBREY —MANUEL-DESMARETS-BEVANNES-MAD. LAROQUE
MADEMOISELLE IIELOUIN                        MARGUERITE.
Mad. L. Pardon, sir, you are Monsieuratan. Manuel, Madame.
Mad. L. The new Steward?
Msan Yes, Madame.
Mad. L. You are quite sure?
Des. [Aside.] That's not bad.
Man. Madame!
Bev. The lady wishes to know. whether you'are yourself.
Man. I have always been under that impression, sir.
[BEVANNES goes up.
Des. [Aside.] The conversation is becoming brilliant-I'll leave
them to enjoy it.
[Exit at back-BEvANNEs comes down to MARQUIs.
Mad. L. Sir, we are indebted to you for devoting your talents to
our service,; we really require them, for we have the misfortune to
be immensely rich.
Mad. A. Misfortune, dear?
Mad. L.: Yes, love; wealth is a heavy burthen.
Mad. A. But a very pleasant one.
Mad. L. You'd find it hard to hear, dear.
Mad. A. I should like to try, darling.
Mad. L. I feel that I was born for the devotion. and self-sacrifice
entailed by poverty. Ah! my dear Bevannes, should I not have
made an excellent Sister of Charity?
Bfv. You are already the next thing to it, Madame?
Mad L.'How so?
Bev. [I, dicating MARGUERITE.] The mother of goodness.
Mar. Oh, sir.
Mad. L. But do you not agree with me?
Bev. In what 7
Mad. L. That wealth is a heavy responsibility.
Bee. Doubtless. But then you have the comfort of knowing that
there are always some devoted fiiends willing to relieve you.:Mad. L. [Rings.] Blut my fortune is not mine to dispose of-for
my duty obliges me to preserve it tor my child.




A POOR YOUNG MAN.                     13
Enter ALAIN.
Alain, show this gentleman to his apartments-but first, you must be
introduced to my father-in-law. Ask if Monsieur Laroque can see
tlie gentleman. [Exit ALAIN-MANUEL up stage.] And now, we will
take a stroll to the conservatory.'  What has become of that horrid
doctor? [As she r'ises, he? shawl falls off-MAINUEL comes forward
and assists her.] Oh! thank you, sil.
Re-enter ALAIN.
Alain. Monsieur Laroque is coming down, Madame.
[Exit at back.
Mad. L. [To MARGUERITE.] My dear, will you stay and introdcce
Monsieur Manuel to your grandpapa.
Mar. Certainly, if you wish it.
lad L. Now, my dear Bevannes, your arm.
Bev. [Who has been talking to MARGUERITE.] Eh.
JMad. L. You shall accompany usBev. [To MARGUERITE.] This is too bad.
[Gives arm to MADAME LAROQUE.
Mar. Oh' Monsieur de Bevannes, how happy you ought to feelarm in arm with " the mother of goodness.'"
Bev. I do feel happy-blessed. [MADAME AUBREY takes his other
arm.] Doubly blessed;.[Exeunt BEVANNES, MADAME LAROQUE and MADAME AUBREY.
Mlle. EH. [Aside.] So, so, my lord Marquis. Well, I will keep your
secret, perhaps.
[Exit-MARGUERITE seats heerself as they go off.
AIar. [After a pause.] Is this your first visit to Brittany, sir 3
Man. It is, Mademoiselle.
Mar. It is an interesting country, I believe, to strangers.
Man. Deeply interesting; though I travelled through it so rapidly,
that I had hardly time to appreciate its beauties. What I did see,
however, charmed me.
A1ar. Ah! an admirer of the picturesque, I perceive, like our
governess. You two will get on very well together —you'll be excellent companions.
Mlan. Mademoiselle —
Mar. Oh, yes; she adores trees, rocks, rivers, etcetera-things
that,'for my own part, I don't think very interesting.
Man. [Smiling, and throwing himself carelessly into a chair.]
Pray, then, may I ask what you do think interesting 3
Mar. [Rising.] Excuse me, Sir.
[.Goes out with a slight and disdainful inclination.
Mlan. A timely reproof-for I was already forgetting my positioa.
[ALAIN is crossing th6 stage.] My friend, a word with you
Alain. Certainly, sir.
Mlan. Monsieur Laroque is very old, is he not t
Alain. Oh, yes sir, very old.




14  PA4 VO( -fI OU" MW
Man. He was a seaman formerly, I believe?
Alain. Yes sir, andcl a bold one too. Up in the picture gallery,
there are paintings of some of his most famous battles with the EngT
lisl.  Ah! he was a terrible man.  Why, sir, if you'll believe me,
when the fit is )n him, he will walk for.hour's alone in that gallery, i:n
a, sort of dream, mutterinc to himself, and fancying that le is again
on board his ship ill the mnidst of fire and slaughter, and between you
ansd I, sir, they do say-but hush! he's coming with his granddaughllter.                                             [Music.
Enter M. LAROQUE, leaning on MiARGUERITE.
Alar. This way, dear grandfather.  So, so. How well and strong
you are to day.                  [ALAIN places chairs and exits.
Laroqzte. Always better and stronger when you are near me, my
darlinlg, [sits down.] Thank ye, thank ye.
MIar. Let me lpresent to you Mons. Manuel, our new steward.
LAROQUE, on seeing MANUEL, is transfixed and gazes with a sort of
terror at him.
Lar. No —no-no-it cannot be!
A[ar. Wlhat is this?
Lar. LuLt I tell you he is dead-dead-:
AIar. Dearest gr:andfather! i  To MANUEL.] For heaven's sake, sir,
speak to him.
113an. Really, Mademoiselle-I-IMlar. Speak, sir! Say somethingl-anything —
Alan. I am happy, sir, that I can devote my humble talents to your
service.
Latr. But lhe is dead —
Alan. Wlho? 
AIar. The last steward-         [Signs to MANUEL to speak7C n.
Alan. All the mor'e happy, sir, as I have heard of your many brilliant exploits, and had relatives who, like yourself, have often fought
against thle EnglishLar. The English! Aye-aye-aye-they did it-they were the
cause, but they paid it all-paid dearly-dearly.
Alan. [Approaching.] Permit me, sir, toLar. Ahl! No-no-no.  He has blood upon him    See-seesee —
Al1ar. Grandfather, dear grandfatherlt  Do not regard him, [To
MANUEL.]l he is often thus —hlis great age-and-and —oh, sir, pi-ay
retire; join my mother, I bea of you.
Alan. Certainly, Mademsiselle.  [Aside.] A good beginning, truly.
[Exit.
Alar. 0Grandfather, dearest, what terrible thoughlts are troubling
yoou.  See, it is I, Marguerite, your clild.
Lar. Eh! my child! Alh, yes, true, my child, my own dear child-;
but where is-are we alorJe   Who stood there just now?
AIar. That was our nev steward, Monsieur Manuel.
Lar. Manuel-Manuel —'tis very strange I I thought~



A- OOR  OUeG MAb.                    16
Mar. What, dear grandfather 
Lar. Thought that-thatMar. Oh, you thought you recognized him?  He is like sometone
you -have seen before?
La-. Yes —!es —yes-like some one T have seen before. But [ am
very old, darlino, and have seen so many faces inl my time. Well,
well, I think I shail like him. Does lie play pigquet?
Mtar. Indeed I do not knowLar. I hope so, I hope so-.
Enter MAD. AUBREY.
Mad. H, Ah, my dear cousin, how do you find yourself now?
They told me you were ill, and almost frightened me to death.
Lar. Thank ye, cousin, thank ye. It was only a passing weakness.
Mad. A. Indeed, I rejoice to hear it, for I was fearful of some sudden- 01, why did you not send for me 3'Tis very unkind of you
to forget those who love you so.         [Weeps.
Mar. Grandpapa, there's one for you.         [Aside to him.
lar. [To MAD. AUBREY.] Well, well it's very kind of you to be so
fearful of something sudden, but you needn't —'ve made my will.
[Aside to MARGUERITE.] There's one for her!
Mad. A. Come now, take my arm, a walk upon the terrace will do
you so much good. There, don't be aftraid to lean on me.
Lar. You're very kind, cousin. Thank ye, thank ye. [Going.]
Marguerite, my darling, ask him if he plays picquet.
JMar. I will.
Lar. Umph! do you think he does 1
Mar. I have no doubt of it.
JLar. [As he goes out with MAD. AuBREv.] I hope 8so-I hope soI hope so I              fExeunt LAROQUE and MAD. AUBREY.
M~ar. My poor grandfather; spite of his failing memory, he sees
through the dlisinterestedness of our good cousin Aubrey. But those
wild words, his terror at the appearanee of this youug man, what
could that mean?   0r had it any meaning? [Sees MAD. LAROQUE
and MANUIML coming in at back.]  My'mother-and leaning on the
arm (f that person!
Mad. L. Precisely my own opinion, sir, my impression eXactly; this,s really charming; we:agree upon every point.
M1an. I am flattered, Maladane, to thilk such should be the case.
Bev. [ WVithout.]'Pon my honor, young ladies, I can't, I really
can't!
Enter BRVANNES, sirr'ouznded by ladies, exclaiming, "You must,
Indeed!"
Bev. Would you oelieve it, MTadame? Those uneon.seionabie ladies
insist on another waltz.
Maar. Oh, indeed I cannot play any more-.-I must dniah this to-day
— It is a promise



16                    A. POOR YOrNG MAN.
Man. Pray do not let that inconvenience the ladies-I will play s
waltz with much pleasure.                     [Touches Piano.
Bev. Sir!
Afar.'Haughtily.] Thank you, sir —it is not requisite.
AMlan. [(Aside.] Forgetting again.         [Goes up Terrace.
Bcev. [Aside.] Pretty cool!
AJar. Very presumina of that steward.
Alad L. Very polite of that gentleman.
Bev. Highly disgusting to this gentleman.
Alad. L. Well, de Bevannes, you must find some other amusement
for the ladies.
Bev.'Gad, I'll soon do that. It's positively fatiguing to be in such
general request with them. They can't do without me for one mo
ment-they absolutelyTurns and perceives MANUEL,, who, during the preceding dialogues
has entered into conversation with the ladies, and has, by this time;
offered his arm to two of them —ltey all accompany himt of.
Bev. [Aside.] Well, if I were given to strong sentiments, I should
wish that fellow at the deuce. As it is, I'll content myself with
simply damning his impudence.
AIad. L. Do you know, my dear, that I don't feel quite easy in my
mind about that young man.
Bev. [Aside.] Nor I, either.
Afar. Why not, mamma?
Mad. L. He is much too charming to make a good steward.
Afar. Really; I do not perceive it. A person may be honest and
well-behaved, although he does happen to play on the piano.
Bev. I don't know that; I flatter myself I have seen something of
the. world, and experience has specially taught me to beware of the
man who plays the piano.
Aar. Mamma, dear, will you hand me those scissors.
Mlad. L. Yes, my child. [Perceives MANUEL'S portfolio.] Whose
drawing-book is this 1
Afar. That! oh! that is the steward's-I saw it in his hand when
he came in.
Afad. L. I positively must take a peep. Oh! De Bevannes, look!
beautiful'! What a charming accomplishment itis to draw well.
ifar. Yes, for an engineer, or a builderBev. Or an actor —
Alar. Why gracious! Monsieur de Bevannes, you have said a good
thing.
Bet'. Have I. Allow me to apologize.
NMlar. Not at all; it's your first offence.,MIad. L. How beautifully finished these groups are.
Bee. Positively, they're not so bad.
Mad. L. Bad! my dear sir; they're exquis:te. Look, forinstance
at that horse-is it not perfection?




A POOR YOUONG MAN.                    17
Bev. It would be, doubtless-only it happens to be a cow.
Mad. L. A cow.
Bev. I think so; horses don't go about with two horLs.
Enter MANUEL.
MAan. Your pardon, ladies; but I believe I left my drawing-bookMad. L. Allow me to return it, sir-and to thank you for an accident which has afforded us much pleasure.
Man. Madame, you are too kind-so kind, indeed, that you have
too long refrained from permitting me to commence my duties. With
your consent, I will at once set about them. Your farm at Langeot,
of which you spoke to me, is not more, I think, than a mile or two
from this. I will walk over there this afternoon, andMad. L. Walk! over such a miserable bad road as it is. Indeed,
sir, I could not allow it.
Enter MADAME AUBREY.
Mad. A. Hush! Pray, pray, not so much noise. My dear cousin
bas composed himself to sleep.
Bev, Noise! it appears to me we Nfere pretty quiet.
Mad. A. Ah, sir, you might think so; but the least sound jars upon
his poor nerves.                                    [ Weeps.
Bev. [Aside.] I never saw such a devil of a woman as this is, to
cry.
Alan. But I assure you, Madame, that I would rather walk. If I
pretend to be your steward-why steward I must be, and not fine
gentleman.
Mfad. L. [To. MARGUERITE.] My dear:, would it be proper to allow
M. Manuel to walk'2
Mar. I believe it is usual for the steward to do so. However, I see
no reason why he should not ride, if he chooses. There are plenty of
horses in the stable.
4Mad. A. Ah!                                      [ Weeps.
Bev. What's the matter, Madame.
Mad. A. Talking of riding always overcomes.me.
Bes. Excuse my peculiar mode of expression-but you appear to
me to pass your life in being perpetually overcome.
Mad. A. Women are but fragile flowers              [ leeps.
Bev. They seem to require a deal of water.
M1ad. A. But horses, sir-talking of horses, puts me in mind of a
pet I had..lIad. L-. A pet horse, rdear?
Mad. A. No, love, a donkey. Oh                     W [Weeps.
Bev. [Aside.] Now she's watering the donkey.
Mad. A. I had the dear little creature for two years. Just long
enough to-pray listen, sir.                    [To MANUEL.
Man. I beg your pardon, Madame —I'm  all attention-I heard.
The creature had two ears just long enough -     [A-l laugh.




is                     A Won YrUNG  N.,
Afacd. A. No, no; I said I had him  for two; yea'-r —just a;ictent
time to love him.ike a child —vlhe  lie died-died, sir, of one of
those diseases peculiar to that class of quadlruped.
MAan. Childrien?
Mad. A. No, sir, Donkies! Dear me, it was, Umph! let me seo,
you must knlow, sil', what [ mean.?              [To 1EV-ANNES.
Bev. Measles?
Mlad. A. No, no, but no matter;: He diedBev. Peace to his ashes.  But as you were saying, Madanle Laro.
qu~e,. there are plenty of horses in the stable, and, really, all but
ruined for wsait of exercise.
Entei, De. DESMARETS.
Des. Yes, that's what you'll all be, if you continue to lounge away
the days.as you do.
illad. L. Ah, Doctor, we've missed you dreadfully.
Des. What's the matter? aniybody sick'l
Bev. You ouoht to have been herejust now, Doctor; Madame Aubrev has told the most totuching taleDes. Of a donkey?  I know, I've heard it often.
Bev. But with regard to a horse for M. Manuel. There's Black
Harry —
Des. Black Harry! Nobody can ride the brute!  I-e's perfectly
untameable! Why, de Bevatnies, you tried it yourself and couldn't.
Bevt. Ahem! Oh —ah- yes, but I had no spurs.
Des. Spurs! Why, you couldn't even get )upon his back!
Bev. Eh —wvhy-1no —not exactly-[Aside ] Confound him!
MAan. [To BEVANNES ] And is Black Harry so very unlmanareablel
Bev.'Poen nmiy word I don't see it.  He IIas an insuperable obljection
to b1eilna:nout0led, but if you can aet upon his b.ck, and being on his
back, canl keep tllere, why, of course. it's a great point in your favor.
Man. f[Smiling.] Certainlly an important one.
Des If you except a partiality for biting, and ditto for kicking,
occasionally shying: and alwvays prone to running away, he's a pleasalit beast.
AMar. But such a beauty! I never saw a horse I should like sd
much to rifle, if lie were but properfly broken.
Man. [To MAD. LAROQUE] Madame, have I your permission?
Mad. L. Certainly.                            [MIANUEL s-ings.
B1.v. [Aside.] What's he at now'
Enter ALAIN.
MAan. Tell one of the grooms to saddle Black Harry.
Alain. Sir!
Des. Whlat?
Ilad. L. No-noMan. [To ALAIN.] Did you hear my order?
Alaint, Yes, sir. [Aside.] There'll be work for the Doctor to-day.
r Li:.




A prQQM   YQoUaQ   a.                      9
Bev. [Aside.]j Good..
3Man. Piray do not fear, Madame, I have been used to restivbhorses,
I'll just make his acquaintance now, and if I can succeed in gailinig
a Slmall portCIn (of his esteenm, I will do myself the honor of ridina
him 4ail unIltil lie is fit for your daulghter's use.
Des. [To BEVANNES.] Whit the devil made you mention that confounded animal?  You don't like the new steward, eh?
l'ev. Not particularly.
Des. He's good looking.
3ev. I::conveniently.
Des. And you want his neck broken?
Bev. No. But I should like his nose put out of joint.
M1ad. L. I do not think I ought to permit this.
[Noise below the terrace.
Enter ALAIN.
Alain. The horse is ready, sir.
Bev. I will lend you a pair of my spurs,  Alain, get my spurs as
you go down.
Alain. Very well, sir.                                    [Exit.
Mlad. L. Let me entreat you, sir.
Alan. I do assure you, there is nothing to fear.  With your good
wishes I am certain of success.                   [Exit down steps.
)es. [On a terrace.]  Why, here are all the servants and grooms.
Quite an assemblage.
NVoise —Cries of "Hold him,'" "Quiet, sirl," "Out of the way.," "Stand
clear,"' &c. —Entr LADIES and  ILLE HELOUIN.
Des. A nice, quiet animal. [Leans over.] Manuel, my dear boy.
Sir! if you break your leg, you may mend it yourself-I won't.
Bev. IOn a sofa.] Doctor, report progress. [Aside.] I'll bet'a thousand francs lie doesn't even- mount him.
Afar. [ Who has oserheard him.] I'll take that be  sir.
Bev. Eli! oh! as you please Mademoiselle.
Des. By the Lord, he's up!         [2Noise as before-then shoQt.
Bev. In the air?
Des. No, in the saddle. [Noise again.] Ah, he's off!
Bev. Off the horse?
Des. No; off on a gallop. [Noise gets more distant.]: Egad! they're
all scamnperin:g after him. What's he doing  mow?  The ditch! take
care!
Mliad. L. He'll be killed.,Mad. A.   l! (oh!                                      [ Weeps.
AMar. TILe horse can never do it.               [Shouts distant.
Des. Ali! he'sBev. In it?
Des. No, over it! Back again! [Shouts distant.]  Here he, comes.
Egad! Black Harry's had enough of it. [Shouts approach neawer.
Mar. [Aside.] There's some mystery about this man. le has




20                  A POOR YOUNG MAN.
hardly arrived, when all eyes seem turned to him. There certainly is
a mystery.
Mlle 11. It will be cleared up, Mademoiselle.
Enter ALAIN.
Anar. What do you mean?
Alle H. Hush!
4lain. [To BEVANNSES.] Your spurs, sir.
Bev. Oh! I hope they assisted him.
Alain. Didn't want'eml sir.
Great shouting below-The ladies, who have been'witnessing the ride,
crowd upon the terrace, w.aving their handkerchiefs, and appear
surrounding and congratdlating MANUEL as he comes on up steps.
Des. [To BEVANNES.] Somebody's nose.is out of joint.
END TABLEAU II.
Lapse- of Three 1VMonths.
TABLEAU III.:bhe Park of the Chateau Laroque. ALAIN discovered arranging
Portfolio and Drawing materials.
Alazn. Now really I do thank Madame for deputing me to wait:
nmore especially on'Monsieur Manuel. Steward or no steward, he's a
perfect gentleman; of that there can't be a doubt. What a pity it
is that Mademoiselle Marguerite and he don't like one another. When
he says white, she says black. When she goes one way, he goes
another, yet everybody else likes him. M'ile Helonin, our Governess, is absolutely in love with him, and the wonderfil influence'he
has obtained over Old Mons. Laroque, in this short time, is unacconlitable. IHe has hardly been here three months, and they say that all
the money will be left according to his advice-but that's going
rather far, even for gossip. WVell, now, his drawing materials are all
ready for him, and-here be is to employ them.
Enter MANUEL.
lran. Alain, did you, by chance, pick up a half finished letter anywhere in my room?
Alain. No, sir.
Man. Strange! I commenced it yesterday, and left it on my table,




A POOb YOUNG MAN.                     21
intending to finish it this'morning.  I have searched the room
thorotighly, and iL is nowhere to be found.
Alain Was it of much importance?
Alan. Merely inasmuch as it related to family and business matters. It was for the Doctor, in case he should call when I was from
home. However, let it go. I'll write another when I return. [Sits
down and prepares drawing materials.]  Did not Mademoiselle Marguerite go out on horseback yesterday alone?
Alain. Yes, sir.
Alan. How was it you did not follow her, as usual?
Alain.. Oh, sir, she often goes without me. She's a capital rider,
and she says, to be alone sometimes, makes her feel more self-dependent, and you know, sir, it won't do to contradict her. for though
a charitable, kind-hearted, young lady, she's rather wilful, and terribly proud.
Alan. Somewhat, perhaps, but her general manner appears to me
more the result -of a sad and gloomy thoughtfulness, than mere
pride.
Alain. Ah; well, I suppose, sir, that, like most young ladies of her
age. she's a little bit in love.
lcan. In love?
Alain. Yes, sir, Monsieur de Bevannes has been paying her great
attention for some time past, and it would be a grand match, for, after
Monsieur Laroque, he is the richest gentleman in the neighborhood,
and of excellent family. Ah, sir, what a pity it is you are not rich.
lan. Why so, Alain?
Alain. Because —no matter. Have you any brders for me, sir?
Man. Merely to have a good look for that letter when you go to my
room.
Alain. I certainly will, sir.                         [Exit.
Alan. Married-married-and to him, Well, and why not! Fool
that I am! Despite of all that should preserve and fence my heart as
with a wall of steel, from every impulse which could induce forgetfulness of my bitter lot, and the one sacred object of my life, still will
that coward heart indulge in dreams —wild dreams of one day laying
its most precious offerings at the feet which would but spurn them.
Enter M'LLLE HELOUIN, with basket.
But I will conquer yet, and if the struggle be hard, the victory will
be the more worthy.                                       y
Mile tI. [Astde.] He is alone. Hitherto, I have kept his secret
well; whether I will continue silent, depends upon himself.. Courage,
and the poor hireling may yet be a Marchioness. [Comes down to
him.] Oh! Monsieur Manuel, how beautiful that is! You see, while
you lave been painting the woods, I have been gathering flowers.
You know we have a ball to-night.
Man. Indeed?  I was not aware of it.
AMlle IH. You positively don't seem to know or care about anything
that goes on. You are worse than indifferent, you are unsociable



A'POft TOff M.Man.!Patrdon'me, not unsociable.  But I know my.'stat-n, and
think it better not to risk beinnt reminded Of it.
Mile I. [After a pause.] Monsieur Manuel —,MIan. MIadenoiselleMile H-. Hve I ever offended you?
Man. No. ilndeed.
IUlle nI. I have been vain enough'to think,'at time's, that yoIl had
some friendly feeling for ime.
Man. And so I have. It. is but natural.  Our fortunes and positions are the same, or nearly so. Both depelident on the caprices of
those who emtploy us, both alone, friendless.'This should create
sympathy at least, if not friendship.
Mille H. You wonuld not fear,:then, to tell me of my faults'?
-Man. Not if you desiled it.
Mlle H. Indeed I do desire it.?Man. But I only'know of one.
M1le H.. Pray nname it.  Nay, I shaTl receive it as a kindness.
lJfan. Well, then I think you admit and encourage somewhat too:great a famlliarity'with the family  in hvlose employmenot we -are.
Your motives may be. indeed, I'm sure they are, perfectly innocent;
still they will not be so considered, for in this world. the unfortunate
are always sluspected.
Mlle i. True, tile.'Spoken with:adelicacy:and candor all your
own —I thalk you sincerely —-and you will always continue as-nowmy tlrue friend?
lan.' I shall feel honored in the title.
Mllle If. A true —a'dear friend?
M.an. [Aside.] What is she driving at?
Mlle H. A friend that loves me?
lMaz. [Aside.] Hallo! we're getting tender'!
AIle HI. A firiend that loves me, ardently.-do you hear?
Mlan. Distinctly.
M:2le- H. And do you'comprehend'.
JMan. [half aside.] I'm afraid I do.
MUlle I. Do you remember the old nursery ihym'e"Pluck from the flower its leafy store —
Love me'little, love me more;
Hearts change owners, yetcombine,
If mine is yours, and yours is mine."
Come, now, let us see if you know which line should be yours.: Shall
I commence?:,Man. If you please.
Mlie H.  " Pluck from the flower it's leafy:store —[A'ause.i
Love me little, love me'more;: [A zause.]
Hearts change~ owners,a yt coxiblne,;An..I:,;espectfully -daellu"




A VP$O fltrxUG:1.AN.                  -23
Mtlle H. [Tkrewing -away the flower, which tsht has &eaef picking
to pieces.] Then, sirSees BE~V-A:N''EDS, who:enters.
Indeed, I could look at it all day, it is so bea.utiful-but I positively
must go. Monsieur, au revoir. [Asiide o M3ANUEL, as -she goes.:] You
-have nisundersteod me.                                    [Exit.
M]an.. Have I?  Then I must be a greater fool than I thounht.
Bev. [Aside.] Pretty close quarters.  What the deuce is that:govelrness after  * And now for a little scientific pumping. [Comes down.]
-Ah, Monsieur Manuel, -at your ddrawing, eh?  Beau:titsl, beautiful,
indeed.
Man. You flatter.
Bsev. Not at all-but to change the:subject —by the by, do, I intelrrupt your work?
Mlan. Not in the least.
Bev. Well, I was going to compliment you on the vast affeCtion and
confidence you have inspired in poor old Laroque.
_A]d. I believe he really has a lkiridly regar d for me.
Bev. Regard! my dear silr-you are absolutely sWound around his
heart. iHis affectionr for lhis:graid-daughter is very great, but no one
has:the: influence over himn that you have. Now, -in the strictest confidellce, I'tn going to be ver:y frank wilth you —and tmark me well, you
will liot- findl it to your disadvantagehereafter, if you are equally frank
with me.
Mlan. Really, I don't quite-Bev. No; but'yoti will prlesently. Without flattery, I'think ryouMan. i'[-Referri-ing to his pictur e.] Too green.
Bev. Eli?  0h1, exactly.  I was about to-say I tlink y0ou, in eviery
way, a gentlenlan, therefore I don't hesitate -to conflde in you the fact
that yesterday. after dirner, I was justAlMan. [ To:pietu re.] A little -blue.
Bev. E-h' Oh precisely.  I iwas just on the point-of proposing to
Madane-L-a-roque for her daughter's hand, when it suddenly struck
me tat -I; should possess a -double: claim, if I could, in the first place,
influence you enough in the young lady's favor to make:it certain
that, the bilk of Monsieur LaLroquie's property would be left to her.
Mana. Monsieur de Bevannes, you really very nluch over-rateBe~-. Pray forgive me, but you hardly knowv — yourself, the importance-of your:good offices in this matter. I was going on to say that
my marriage with Marguerite is all but a settled affair, and, of course,
it is my duty to promote her interests in every possible way. I -think.you must concede that?
Man. Surely, but"Bev. Permit me. -Now I wish to call to -your mind that Mladame
Laroque, though a worthy excellent woman, is one of-very simple
tastes-and bhabits, -and, should too large -a portion of the property be
left to her, it Wvouid -ta. and embarrass her to aU -extent,-that would




24                  A POOR YOUNG MAN.
be painful to my feelings. I hope you appreciate my disinterested.
ness in the matter.
JMan. Oh, thoroughly! But I am still at a loss to imagine where
my interference would be either necessary or effectual.
Beve. My dear friendMan. [Aside.] Now he's getting tender!
Bev., One word from you as to the proper disposition of the money
would —
Man. Monsieur de Bevannes, let me end this at once, by telling
you that, in my opinion, any interference from me in the family affairs
of M. Laroque, would be a gross and unseemly abuse of his confidence.
Bev. And this is the return you make for mine?
Man. I did not solicit it, sir.
Bev. Sir, permit'me to take your hand.
Mlan. ReallyBev. You have stood the test, you are a noble fellow. You areEnter MADAME AUBREY.
[Aside.] There's Mrs. Waterspout, by jove! [Aloud.] You seem puzzled at my manner-I will take another opportunity of explaining.
Suffice it now to say you have misunderstood me.      [Exit.
Man. My understanding seems to be terribly at fault to-day.
Mad. A. [Aside.] De Bevannes has left him. A good opportunity
for me. [Comes down.] Beautiful! Exquisite indeed!
Man. MadameMad. A. Truly, each new picture you finish, is more lovely than
the last. Oh!                                       r Weeps.
Man. What is the matter?
iMad. A. The painting of that sheep's headMan. Yes, MadameMad. A. Reminds me of my own portrait, taken in happier years,
long passed away.
MIan. But there are as happy ones in store for you, I hope.
Mad. A. That will depend greatly upon you, Monsieur Manuel.
Man. On met
Mad. A. Yes. Do you know, Monsieur Manuel, that I find my
poor cousin Laroque very much changed,Man. Indeed he is.
Mad. A. And for the worse. In fact, he appears to me to be sinking fast.
Man. I'm afraid such is the case.
Mad. A. How fond he is of you-you, it is well known, possess
his entire confidence.
Man. I have been fortunate enough to make my poor services acceptable to him.
iMad. A. Now, just between ourselves, in the strictest confidence;
do you happen to be aware how the property will be-left X
Man. I do not, Madame.




A  oe10A, TO0eNG tA9.                X2
Madd.- A. I am in a state of painful apprehietioni lest the dear old
gentleman should over-estimate the desires and requiremenrts of Madanme Laroque, and should, therefore, curtail any little legacy comina
to me, to make her portion larger, which would be absolutely throwing money away. I hope you understand my entire want of selfishness in this matter?
Man. I tlink I do.
Mad. A. I was sure you would. Now, if you will use your power
and settle this affair to my advantage, fll I can say is, so noble an
action would not go ui eNiarded.
lan. I should hope not.
Mad. A. You will find me substatially grateful; you understand
Alan. Entirely.
Alad. A. And I you?
Alan. Not quite; but in order that you may-I must tell you, Madame-that when you offer me money to rob your benefactol, and
mine, you entirely and: totally mistake the person you are addressing.
Ma'd. A. Oh! oh!                                  [ Weeps.
ain. It grieves me to be so abrupt, butMad. A. It is not that, it is not that-but, to be thought capable of
such-to be accused —oh, sir! you have cruelly misunderstood me.
[Exit, weeing.
JMan. Another misunderstanding!  That makes three fiiends I
have secured this morning. One or two more of the same sort, and
my business here will be soon finished.
Enter M`LtE IsELOU'In.
Alan. Here comes the first misunderstanding afain..Tllle H. M. Manuel, I thought you might like to know that the
Doctor has just arivedMan. Thank you-I'll go to him at once.              [Exit.
Mile H. So eager to avoid me. Have a care, my lord Marquisspite of my insignificance, you may learn to rue the day you made
me conscious of it.
Enter BEgVANRES.
And here is one on whom, if I don't.very mnuch mistake, I may rely
for aid.
Bev. Upon,: my honor, Mademoiselle, you make quite a pretty
picture-a wood-nymph's reverie; sweet subject, now, for the pencil of our friend, the steward.
JMile H. Our friend, the steward, as you term him, has loftier subjects for his pictures, either aerial or substantial.
Bev. Really!
le ZH.; And in the former quality his aspirations are sublime.
Bev. Mademoiselle, you are an entertaining person, ]irt I never
guessed a conundrum in my life.




26                     A POOR YOUNG MAN.
J~lle H. In plain terms, then, this romantic gentleman aspires to
create an interest in tile heart of Marguerite.
Bev. 0 come! I call stand a areat deal, but that's rather too good.
Mlle Ii. But if I can prove it.
Bev. The thling is too absurd.
MJlle II. I have just plalted firomn Madame Aubrey.
Bev. I congratulate you.
JAI lie H. You jest, M. de Bevannnes, but you may one clay wake to
find the steward rather a dangerous person,  Madame Aubrey has
picked up a letter of his, wllich was blown;:,~t of the wildow of his
room, ilito the park.  Would you like to see it 3
Bev. Mademoiselle, I don't preLend to more virtue than my neighbors, but if I can only get at facts by reading another man's letters,
I'm afraid I shall remain in ignorance.
MlIle H. Marauerite is coming.  Would you like to hear the comnunication I have to make 2
Bev. Thle contents of the letterl
Mlle H. No, but still a somewhat startling discovery.
Bev. On the whole, I think I'll take imy departure; for when there's
mischief to be concocted, and two women to brew it, it would be
the grossest vanity in any man to think he could improve the
cookery.                                                   [ Exit.
Mllle H. Now if I can instill but one small drop of the poison called
suspicion, her proud, impetuous spirit, will complete the w-ork itself.
Enteer MARGUERITE.
Mar. Really, a very touching scene.  The affectiont existill,( )e.
tween the good doctor andl our steward is remarkable.  it lie {,ad
been M. MIanuel's father, he could hardly have been nmiore cordially
received.
Mille Ii. And I assure you that M. Manuel's father could nI(!t serve
him at this morment as the doctor can.
Jlar. MIy dear governess, you seem  to know more of this young
man than you choose to reveal.  I remember well your mysterious
words to me the day he first rode and conquered that horse.
Mille Hi. Perhaps I have been to blame for having  remained silent
so long.  But right or wrong, I have, until now, looked upon it as a
duty to keep this person's secret inviolate.
jar.  His secret!
Mile H. Nor would I reveal it now, but that his base intentions
are no longer doubtful, and silence would be criminal.  However, I
must exact your promise tha't the knowledge of it shall remain, foi
thle present, between our'selves.
llar. You have my word. Proceed.
MIlle H. Four years ago, when you were in Paris-you are aware
that I was in tile habit of visiting some of my old friends at my for.
mer school?
Mar. I remember.




A POOR YOUNG MAIN.                       27
Mile H. Well, I often saw there this very M. 3Manuel.  He visited
the school to see. his little. sister.  Ills father was the well known
Mllarquis de Champcey.
Aa?. Ah!
llllle H. 1it was the talk of the school that the family were even
then tnuch reduced.  Now, thle  are totally ruinied.''I;he fatlle  is
dead, anl(d tle sotn has, tllrouall the good offices of a frielnd, been
placed in a position to regrain thle forltlne he has lost.  By what itans
I leave to your pelletratiol to discover.
lafa. Antr is it so! [A pause.] But, after all, the conduct of tlhis
young man in no way justifies suspicion.  I see him bhut seldom,  In
truthl, lie actually avoids me.
Mlle I. Of course lie does. Reserve creates inquiry, inquiry, interest.  Oh1, he has beent well tutored.
Mar. Eliough.  I thank you sincerely for the warnina.  But relieve
your mind of all anxiety;  I shlall know how to deal with this conscientions gentleman. be assured.
Mlle H. Indleed I feel the happier that I have at last confided this
fact to you. Al, my child, to wliat snares, what treachery, wthat d(eceit, does the possession of wealth expose the innocelt.  The tlhouglht
of therm makes the poor governess almost contenteed with lher humble
lot.  Come, shall we walk towards the house? As we go, I slhall be
able to bring to your recollection many circumstances, trifling in
themselves, but whlich, when considered  in connection with waviat I
have now. told you, will serve to Ilrini full conviction to your mind.
[Exeunt MARGUERITE, leaving her basket of flowers on the bank.
Ezter MAANUEL.
IManez. And now, having enjoyed thle honor of a tete-a-tete witll each
of those most itnterested  il inquiringl into matters upon which I'm
strictly deterrlined to be silent, I presume I shall be permitted to
con tinlne  my work undisturbed.
[Iie has r'eseated himself at his drawing.
MARGUEcRITE re-enters to find her basket.  Ile rises.  She merely
looks haueghtily at him and, in carrying off the basket, lets a r'ose
fall on, the ground.
Mlan. Really, her nmanner is more than haughty.'Tis alnmost rude.
[He picks up theflower.] I suppose now, she'd grudge me this poor
sowver, yet who, though loving wildly and hopelessly as I do, would
not thinlk it a fair prize?  No, I will return it.  I will not be guilty
of one action uhich shall give my heart the power to whisper-" Thus
should'st thou not have done."
Re-enter MARGUERITE.
Mar. [Aside.] As I supposed. Have the kindness, sir, i,o return
me that flower.  I am not in the habit of presenting boquets to-gentlemen.
Marn. Under which conviction, Mademoiselle, I was on the point of
bringing it to you.




28                     A POOR YOUNG XMAN.
Mar. [Aside.] Oh! for some way to makze him feel how I despise
him.  Do you kn6wv, Ai. Manuel, seeing so little of yolu, lately,
I was utidcr the imnpression that death had deprived us of another
stewar'dlIlr. Hirhly flattered that you should condescend to be under any
inmlpressions conllcerning so insiallificalt a per'son.
Mar.  I tliouahlt that so gifted a aelitleman could hardlly do anything \ ithotit a motive, and now I ami informed that your absence
is attlibltable to the fact that you spend all your evenings withll our
noble relative, Mademoiselle Delonnais.
l1an. I cei tainly (o. and I deny myself that pleasure the less because the lady happens to be old enougah to be my grandmother. Her
ancestors reianed here formerly, arid she-the last of a noble ra cepoor anrd infirm, bears so well the diignity of her name, her age, and
her mnisfortunes, that I feel almost a filial affection for her. Besides,
it xwas your mother who fiist introduced me to her.
M/ar. Oh! no one means to reproach you; on the contrary, I dare
say Madame Laroque is obliged to you for your attention to the good
old lady.
Aian. You may remember, too, it was your wishAIar. Oh, if you want praise or admiration from me, you mnust be
content to wait.  Though young, I have sorme experience of life. I
know that there are two lmotives to most human actions.  I know that
M'lle Delonnais has a sniall indepenrence. I knoxv she has no heir,
therefore a little extra attention andMan. Mademoiselle, permit me to express for you my sincere pity.
Afar. Sir!
Man. Permit me to express for you my sincere pity.
Afar. Youi. upity?
MIan. Yes, madame-if unjust suspicion be the bitter fruit of experience in one so young. Nothing can merit more compassion than
a heart withered by misbelief. almost before it has begun to exist.
Maar. Are you aware of what you say, sir?  Are you aware to whom
you speak?
Alan. Entirely conscious, Mademoiselle, of both.
Afar. [Bitterly.] Perhaps you expect me to ask your pardon?
Ian. Assuredly I do. Wealth can afford to humble itself —poverty
cannot.
Afar. [As she is going, turns with a haughty humility.] Then, sir,
I ask your pardon.                                         [Exit.
Alan. Oh! my sister, my darling Rose! It needs all- iny love for
thee to make endurance of these insults less than cowardice! Coldness and antipathy have increased to absolute hate and persecution.
She is determined to drive nme hence. She will succeed at last, and
thenEnter DocToR DESMARETS.
Ah! my dear Doctor!
Des. I've eaten some lunch, had the dust brushed off, and now I'm
going to brush some more on.




A POOR YOUNG MAN.                      29
Jlan. How so?
Des. Just (got a letter-patient very sick —twenty miles rile there
and back. Pleasant life, a doctor's.
a.an. W1lere is it?
Des. About fcur miles beyond the ruins of Elfin.
flaxn. Tile rui.,s of Elfen.
Des. Yes; Jbut what's the niatter with you  you look feverish and
queer. Anything wrong  between you and the family?
A1lanz. Wlhy, no. ButDe.. But-what'' They tell me you're quite a Tgreat man hereold Laroque can't live without you-angry because you don't spend
all your evenings at the Chateau-and the ladies, without exception,
are crazy about you.
alan. Pardon me-there's one important exception-Mille Mlarguerite.
IDes. What the devil! You don't mean to tell me you can't agree
with her.
llar. I do assure you-she loses no cpportunity to humiliate, and
even openly insult me. Indeed, it has lately become insufferableso that I am going to tax your friendship once more, to seek for me
some other employment.
Des. Now  don't be hasty, my deai' boy. By Jove! here sle
comnes-no she don't-she perceives you-and there she goes. She
don't escape me though.
alan. Nay, my dear doctor, I beg of youDes. Stuff'! nonsense! I'll just give her a piece of my mind.
[Exit.
Man. I very much fear the Doctor's zeal in my cause will lead!him
into trouble with this proud girl-but I am resolved. Here, I will
not, can not renmain. Rose, my darling. thy marriage dowry  must be
sought and won elsewhere. I will at once visit my poor old friend,
and say farewell. Marltterite I will see no more —no faltering nowa good resolve once taken, action should be speedy. To-night the
horse I have almost learned to love, because she would one day ride
him, shall bear me for thelast time.                     [Exit.
The DOCTOR and MARGUERITE are heard outside-then enter.
Des. Can't help it, if I do offend you. The young man is my
fiRielicd —
Alar. DoctorDes. My friend, Mlademoiselle-and I never desert a fiiend, even
thounlh he has inlcurred the displeasure of your proud ladyship.
A'lar. Do you not reaarc me as a friend?
Des. I should rather thinlk so; known you since you were a baby;
disposition altered since thenAfar. For the better?
Des. Don't know that. When you are angry now it's a stormthen it was only a squall.




80                     A POOR YOUNG MA&M.
iMar. This is no jesting matter. Doctor Desmarets, I have always
considered you a man of honor.
Des. Much obliged to you. I've been under the same impression
myself.
11ar'. WhTat then is the meaning of this plot?
-Des. Plot!
JMar. This young man, this steward you have so kindly supplied us;xith, he has been recoagnized.  He is known!
Des. Well, suppose he is; what of it? 
Jlar. W l vhy does he bear a false name?
D)es. He don't.
lfar. DoctorDes. Manuel is his Christain name. I suppose he may lmake what
ise of it he pleases. Whether he puts it first or last, is nobody's
ausiness but his own.
Afar. His motive?
Des. His motive, Mademoiselle, is worthy of himself, and proceeds
from a sense of honest pride, whlich many would do wvell to imitate.
He is a gentleman. and a man of honor, reduced to sudden poverty,
and compelled to labor for a livelihood.  Now, I'm  not acute enouah
to perceive any plot in all tlhis.  But I do perceive that you are doing
your' best to drive 1himn from this place.
Mlar. Doctor, yourl word is enougli. I believe you, and I thank
you.  Oh, it is so sad to look only on the aglooiy side of tlhings.  I
thank you so much, and never liked you half so well as I do to-day.
[ Whie speaking this speech, she searches for the r-ose she has taken
fi'om IMANUEL, and, on finding it, places it in her bosom.
Des. No?
Mlar. No!
Des. What a pityl~ar. Ebh?
Des. That I can't stay to luxuriate in your friendship. I have only
tinme to say good-bye to your nmother, then I must be off.
Malr. Well, now, I'll tell you what I'll do. To prove I'm in earnest,
I'm goiln to take my hoise, and beatl you company part of the way,
Des. My clild it will be dalrk before I get there.
Mar. But tlhei e1i le a 1(,vely moon, and I want to see the ruined
tower of Elfenl by itnooillialt-  So sav lo imore, for I'm resolved.
Des. Well. 1my exspeielce, l offessional. aiid personal, has taughllt me
that when a Wonlalml is (leterileille —
El~Iter AiMADAME LAROQUrE —-D   BEVxANxNES.
lMad. L. Youi are riglit. m1!( dearl B3evanes,   I confess it.
Bee:. 01h, tlhere's no doubt lie is, absolute perfection, the ratar avis,
so lo1a soug.ht for, found at last.
Mad. L. Laughl as you please, I positively adore him.
Bev. You'll ask me to the wvedding, I hope?




A POOR YOUNG MAN.                        81
Mad. L. Go alonh with you. Well, my child, have you persuaded
that obstinate mant to stay till morning?
Des. That obstinate man regrets he must go within the hour.
Alain. [without.] Go away, you troublesome little thing!
Enter CHRISTINE and ALAIN.
Mad. L. Wflat's the niatter 2
Alain. This little gt'l w\ill insist on searclling the park for some
gentlemnan she wishes to see, belonljing to thle Chateau.
Mad L. That will do-leave hler here.             [Exit AIAIN.
Bev. Now small specimen of rustic humanity, what do you want 2
Matd. LI, Whlat is your niame, little one 1
Christine. Christinle, Madamte. My arandfatherBev. Never mind your pediglee —which of us do you want?
iad. L. Be quiet. Well nmy dear?
Chris. My grandfiather is very old anld blind, if you please, andandt-oh! I want to see the nice, good gentleman.,Des. Bevannes, she don't vanlt you.
Chris. The handsome oeitlemnan.
Bev. Doctor, shle doi;'t sarat you.
Chris. Please, Madame ie may I tell you what happened yesterday?
Moaxd. L. Yes, child, go on.
Chris. My grandfather has a dog that leads him about-poor old
Spot-such a pet —o
Enter MADArME AUBREY.
IlIad. A. A let! are you talking of a pet?
1Bev. Yes; but don't weep, Madame-it isn't a donkey.  Go on,
little (irl.
Ch7ris. Well, yesterday, we tl-ree-arandfather,',   Spot and I, were
sittinig near the streaml, in the village. by the mlill-dam,  when some
wicked boys-oh! such dreadful wicked boys, came by.  They
seized poor Spot and threw him into the water.  He was nearly being
crushed by the mill-wheel, when a dear, kind gentleman, who was
riding by on a beautiful black horse- 
Enter MANUEL.
Oh I there he is. Oh, sir! I'lm  o glad I've found you.
Alan. [Aside.] Oh, confound it! what brings you here, you little
pest?
Chris. Don't be angry, sir-you rode away so fiast, yesterday, I had
no tilne to thank you, and I wish to do so now.
-Bev. Beautiful subject for a nautical drama: "The Desperate
Diver; or, The Drownliln  Dor of thle Dam."
Alan. Ridiculous enough, I admit.  However, I did jump into the
water after poor Spot.
Chris. YYou did, you did, indeed! Ah! sir, [to BEVANNES,] you
laugh-but perhaps if you were old and blind, you wouldn't think it
suce  a joke.




A POOR YOUNG MAN.
Bev. I assure you, my dear, it would have given me infinite ples.
ure to have saved your dog.
Des. You save a doc?  Why you can't swvim.       [AIZ laugh.
Bev. Here are ten fiancs, child, go away.
Chris. And now, sir, [To MANUJEL.] I'll go directly, if you'il gioe
mne.ust one kiss.
lMan. [Angrily.J Upon my wordMad. L. Now I insist upon it you do. Poor little thing, I'm surr
she deserves it.
Mlan. [Laughing.] Well, then, [Kisses her.] now, go home, there's
a dear.
Chris. Oh! I will, I will, good-bye.
Mad. L. Well, haven't you got one foa me?
Chris. Oh, dear, yes, Madame.                [Kisses MAD. L.
Bev. You're forgetting your money.
Chris. Oh, dear, no, sir.              [Takcs it and curtsies.
Bev. Now a kiss for me?
C/hris. Oh, dear, no, sir!
[Curtsies and exits. All laugh except MADAME AUBREY,
Hzad A. Oh!                                          [ Weeps.
Bev. Weeping for my disappointment, Madame.
Mad. A. No-sir-n-o.
Mad. L. A most interesting little girl.
iMad. A. That's it, that's it. She reminds- me of a circumstanee
that occlurred in muy youth, before my marriage.  You rmust know I
had a littleDes. Hallo!              [Takes MARGUERITE  hastily uvE stage.
Bev. Ahem!                         [Takes MADATME LAROQUE.
liad. A. Eh! What!  [Calling after them as they go off.]  You
don't understand me! A little niece-Oh! this is too dreadful!
[Sinks into chair.
END OF TABLEAU III.
TABLEAU IV.
lnterior of a room in the Tower of Elfen. A  large breach in the
wall at back, through which the distant couitry is dimly seen.
rNight coming on.
YVONNET discoviered upon the balcony, listening.  Singing in the dis.
tanlce.  Whten the singing is done, Eater MANUEL.
Man. What are you at there, my good fellow?
Yvomnnet. [Startled.] I was listening to the singing, sir.
mlan. Who are the singers?




A POOR YOUNG iAN.                        83
Yvon. The reapers, si'r, returning home.
MJ/an. You, I suppose, are the keeper of these ruins?
Yvon. Yes, sir.  I am  the sllpherd that minds the sheep, and
hhows the tower to stranlers.                        [Showis key.
AIlan. [giving money.] There.
Yvpon. Thank you, sir.
A7la t. Are you never' aftraid here all alone?
Yvon. Afraid! No, indeed. That is, not in the day-time, but at
nightlain. Ah; ah, then you have fairies, or spirits, or ghosts here, eh!
Yvon, [Disdailfully.] Sir, do you take me for a superstitious fool!
It's all very well for people who don't know any better, but Ilamn. Then you do not believe in anything of the kind?
Yvorn. I shlould think not, indeed. But if you come to talk about
the white lady, that's quite another matter.
Alaz. Oh!! so there's a white lady, is there?
Yvo n. Yes, sir, there is indeed, and she walks about on the top of
that tower over there, and where there are no stairs either,  But she
is never seen in the day, only in the night, when it is quite dark.
Alan, [Laughing.] Yes, she is seen when it is too dark to see.
Yvon. [Lookling out.] Alh! Confound those sheep, at their old tricks
again.  [Shouts.] Hi! Hi!  I don't believe there's such a troublesome set of brutes in the whole country, always climbinrg where they
have no business. Hi! Hi!                      [Th?'ows a stone.
flan. Why don't you jump down there?
Yzton. Try it yourself, if you want to break your neck, my fine
gentleman. Are you going to stay long3  It is getting late
AIan. Don't be uneasy, I shall go presently.
Yvon. The sooner the better. I ain't a coward, but I feel more
comfortable away from here.                               [Exit.
Alan. This is a fine old ruin. How is it that I have never found it
out before. -I must bring my sketch-book here some day. Alas! I
forgot that for mae there is no future here, to-morrow-"'Tis but a sad
farewell that I must bid the scenes I had begun to love so well.
Wretched heart! Is it, then, because reason, honor, everything, forbids my loving her that-Ahl! were I not the guardian of an existence more precious than my own, I should long ago have fled this
torture. [Goes svp.
Enter MARGUERITE.
Afar. This is most fortunate, when the moon rises the view will
be charming. [Suddenzly sees MANUEL, ] Sir, I beg your pardon. I
was not aware, indeed —.                          Going.
Alan. Excuse me, Mademoiselle, I am not at home here-permit
me to retire.                                           [Going.
Mar. [C'-ossing.] Stay, sir. As we happen to be alone, will you
answer me fully and frankly, one question.  They tell me my manner towards you is abrupt, unkind, ever at times, offensive.
Man. I have never complained.




a4                       A POOm YOUNG MAN.
M~ar. But you would leave us 3
ilan. MAadelmois lle.
M1Iar. A(nd they say that I am  the cause,  Your dernrL'ure, sir,
would occasion lr  motl:cr eincere sorrow, wlvich I amu anoxious to
spalre her, if it bC  iln ny poe\\r; it I an  at a loss to know %lwhat
explalation to malke   ol —wllat ani I to say'I that tlhe langu;,ae
vwhicli has offeiidled  you, is not always sincere —that perlllaps,
after all, I myself can appreciate joys aiid pleasures more exalited
than tlIose NtIlicil tlhe niere possession of wealthl can give.  Well, it is
possible —but am I so imuch to blame, that 1 use my powers to stifle
tlhoulahts whieli are fotrbidden me.
Man. Forbidden 2
MIa'r. Yes, forbidden.  It may, perhaps, appear like affectation, to
complain of a destiny which so mally envy-but, like my niother, I
believe that were I less rich, I should be the more haIppy.  You lhave
reproached me wit. h my continual distrust. But in whonm can I trust 3
I, who from my infanicy have been sltrrounlded-do I not klnow it too
well-but by false frienids, graspinig relatives. and suspicious suitors!
Do) you suppose that I am weak and foolish enlongh to attribute to my
own attractions, thle care, the solicitude, witlh which so many of these
parasites surround mle; ald even if a pure and noble heart, (should such
a thiing exist in this world,) Nwere capable of seeking anid lovinIg me for
what I am.-lno*t for whalt I have —I should never know  it-[with
meaning]-for I should never dare the risk! Anld this is why I
shun, repulse, almost hate, all that is beautiful and good-all that
speaks to me of that heaven, which is, alas! forbidden me. [The reaper's ar'e again heard singing in the distance-with emotion and in
an unde'tone.] What is that?
[Listens —ets her head fall zupon her hands, and weeps.
Ilan. Tears!
Mlar. [ With tiransport.] Well, yes, I can Neep. Enouah-I (lid not
inteiid, sirl,to burthen you with so much of my confidelce; but now
you know  me better.  You see I have a heart, aiid if ever I have
wounlded yours, I hope you will foraive me. [Gives her hand, which
he kisses, respectfiuly.] See; the pledge of our friendship shall be this
flower, which I rudely demanlded from you this morninig. [Gives rose.]
Now let us go, [returning,] and never let. this subject be revived be
tween us.
Alan. Never-!
lMar. But before I ao, I must see the view from yonder height
Man. I beg you will lnot venture-do not run such a risk.
JIar. Oh! I am not afraid.
lMan. At least take my hand, then.
[She mounts the platform outside of the window.  It begins to grow
dark.
Mar. The height is fearful, but the view is very beautiful.  I could
gaze on it forever.




A POOR YOUNG MAN.                           25
Enter YVOSNET.  Ite looks round without seeing them.
Yvon. Ah! he's gomne at last.'I shan't be long in following him;
I don't like this place.              [Erit, locking door after him.
[.Night comes oil, the moon lTighting the scene beyond.  MAIRGUERITE
comes downf from tower, aided by MANvUEL.
Afar. There  comes the night, in good earnest;  fortunately, the
moon will 1elp us to reg(ain our horses.  Comiie, sitr, let us hIasLen.
[Low mzusic froom orchest)ra.  MANUEL tlries to open door.
Alan. That stupid fellow has fastened it while we were upon the
tower.
Afar. [Anxzously.] Call to him, he cannot be far off.
Jain. [Upon platform.] Hallo! Come back, will you?  Now  he
sees me, lbut le oi1ly runs the faster-takes me for the white lady, I
supp)ose.  Conlfouni7 the fool!
Alar. [Looking abolnt.] No other means of egress!  What is to be
done?-tlle' will diei vithl anxietx at hlome.
lzan. Stay! I can descend by those trees, perhaps —
AIfar.'Tis useless-there is all inclose(l coult-yard below.
Man. It is in vain-this door lesists all 111y efforts.  I know  not
-what to da).         [  hsile MIlAGUERITrE has gone utpon platform.
Mafr. Great Heaven! I see it all.  [To MIANUErL, Wit]h r'estra ined
passzon.l Marquis de Chlapcey!
Alan. [Turns quickly.] My I)ame!
llar. [Slowly.] You boast a long ancestral descent.  Pray tell me,
sil, are you the first coward of your namt1e?
Ilian. Aladame 
lar. [ Violently.] It is you —you who have bribed this boy to
imprisonll  s here 1
Xln. Merciful Heavens!
AfIar. Ah, I comiprehend your purpose, I understand it all.  Tomorrow thlis accident will be noised abroad;  the ever-ready tongue
of scaldal 111l be 1)usy with mny   namle, a nlame which, if less ancient
than your own., is full as stainless, and you trust to Ilmy despair to
make mie yours! Bnt thils vile trick, which crlowns all your base
maneuvering, I will thwart.  I tell you, sir, that I wouldt incur the
world's conltempt, the cloister, anything-even death itself-rather
than the disgrace, the ignominy, the shame, of uniting nmy life to
yours!
Alan.   Calmly.] I entreat you to be calm.  Call reason to your aid.
I understand anid respect your distress, but let not your anxiety
promptyouthb do mewrong.  Consider! How could I have prepared
such a snare, and( even were it in my powerT, how have I ever given
oI tile r iallt to think me capable of such baseness?
flar. [Passintg L.] All that I know of you -gives me that right.
For what purpose do you enter our house, under a false name, in a
false character?  We were happy before you came.  You have
brought us sorrow, nlisery, wvhich we dreamed not of.  To attain




86                    A POOR YOUNG MAN.
your object, to repair the breach in your fortune, you have usurped
our confidence, sported with our purest and most holy sentiments.
Have I not seen all this? And when you now pledge to me your
honor-that honor which was too poor and weak to save you from
these unvworthy actions-have I not reason to doubt. Have I not
the riglht to scorn and disbelieve?
Mlan. Marguerite, listen to me! I love you, it is true, and never
did love more ardent, more disinterested, more holy, live in the heart
of man. But here, with the eves of Heaven upon us, I swear that. if
I outlive this niaiht, all beloved as you ale, were you upon yourl knees
at my feet, never would I accept a fortune at your halnd. Never! My
heart is yours, yours to break, to crush, to trample in the dust, if it
so please you, but my honor, Madame, is my own and that I will.
preserve. And now pray-pray for a miracle. It is time,
[Runs to the tower.
Mar. What would you do?   God of mercy! You shall not-you
shall not!
Mlan. Think, Marguerite, your name!
Mar. You shall not! Forgive me! If you love me, forget what I
have said, for pity's sake, for mine!
Man. [Disengaging himself.] Loose your hold.
[lie repulses her, and leaps upon tower. Singing heard afar off.
1Mar. [Falling on her knees.] Manuel! Manuel! Madmana! hear
me. It is death!
Man. It is honor!                    [Throws himself down.
[MARGUERITE with a shriek, falls insensible.
END OF TABLEAU IV.
TABLEAU V.
tandsomely furnished Room in Chateau Laroque-Doors R. and L.,
and u.-Candles lit.
DE BEVANNES, MAD. LOROQUE,-M\IAD. AUBREY, ALAIN, MLLE ITELOUIN
discosered-MAD. LOROQUE is walking -about in much agitation.
M2ad. L. [To ALAIN.] You say she went out on horseback'
Alain. Yes, Madame.
Mad. L. Did she say at what hour she would be back.
Alain. No, Madame.




A POOR YOUNG MAN.                      37
Bev. Did she not tell you she would be early in the ball-room this
evening?
fIad. L. She did; and that only makes me the more apprehensive.
This anxiety is torture.
Bev. Be assured, Madame, she is safe. You know she is often out
late on fine eveningls.
Mliad L. But never after dark, Can nobody even tell which way
she went 2.Ni7le IL There is one person, I think, might give us some information.
iliad. L. Oh! who?  Why did you not say so before?
Mlle ti. I have no doubt AM. Manuel could enlighten us, if he chose.
lIad. L. Monsieur Manuel! what should he know about it?
Becv. Exactly. I do not clearly perceive why the steward must be
better informed of the young lady's movements, than her mother.
Mllle II. Nor I. Yet I think it would be worth while to ask him.
Mlad. L. Alain, ask Monsieur Manuel, if he will be so good as to
come to me, at once.
Alain. Monsieur Manuel has also gone out on horseback, Madame,
and has not yet returned.
Mile It. Ahemn 
Mtad. A. Ah, ha!
Bev. And pray, at what time did he go out?
Alain. Just before Mademoiselle Marguerite, sir.    [A pause.
iiad. L. You are all marvellously silent! What do you imagine?
what do you infer?  Speak, if you would not drive me mad!  Still
silent! [To  ILLE ItELOUIN.] Mademoiselle, your looks convey some
hidden meaning. [To MIAD. AUBREY.] Cousin.
liad. A. Oh!                                        [ eeps.
iliad. L5. What's the use of that, Madame?  speak out. I always
knew you were a fool-don't make me me   ink you are a complete
idiot! Bevannes, what does all this mean?
Bev. Alain.
Alain. Sir?
Bev. Did Mademoiselle go out alone?
Alain. No, sir; with the Doctor.
dliad. L. Ah! then all is well.
Bev. Humph!
lIad. L. Bevannes, what do you mean? will you explain or not?
ille H. Madame, your generous nature and partiality for the steward, has somewhat blinded your judgment; those who love you have
been more watchful. This Monsieur Manuel isEnter MIANUEL —Tis dress disordered-Ilis face pale, withl1 slight
mark/s of blood upon his forehead.
Xan. Here, Madame, you did me the honor to send for me.
SMile H. You have just returned. sir?
M3an. This moment-I met Alain on the stair.




38                     A POOR YOUNG MAN.
Mfad. L. But you are hurt, Monsieur —there's blood upon your
forelheald..tIan. Nothino of importance, I assure you; the horse fell with
me, and got a few scratches —nothilng more-a little cold water will
set all to r'iflt,
AIlad; L.'i'his seems to be a nigh. of misfortunes.
ad..4. [Sighs.] All!
lad. L. Do b)e quiet.
Man. What has happened, MIadame.
Mad. L. Marruerite went out on horseback just after you, and has
not vet return:ed.
Alan. 0Oh, don't be alarmed-I met her.
M//d. L,.lOh! whien? where?
Mlan. About six o'clock, on the road to Elfen-she told me she
was oinga onl to look at the ruilns.
Mad. L. Good heavells! the ruins are in the midst of the forest,
and tile roads dreadful! She must have lost her way! Alain!
Eiter ALAIN.
Order the carriage; [Exit AnAIN.] I will send directly-I will go
myself.
Alan. You may rest certain, Madame, that you will find her. In
the meatntime, I will get rid of the evidences of my trifling ftll. Be
assured your dauohter is' quite safe.                     [Exit.
Miad.. Come, Bevannes, order your horse, and ride by the carriaae.
Bev. Thank youi, but, with your permission, I'll ride in the carriage.  The road is a bad one, and if one horse stumbles, another
nmay. 
Miad. L. Well, well, anytvay you please, only come.     [Exit.
Mlad. A. All, pool girl, poor girl-                    [ Weeps.
Bev. Don't be so distressed, Madame. It's not your little niece.
A:fad. A. Monsieuir de Bevannes, you are a brtite!
Bev. So is a dornkey, Madame, and yet one died rich in your affection.  Ah, if I could only have inherited a portion of his wealth.
[Exit.,7Mad. A. I wonder if he means that.  lie never said anything so
civil before. I've a great mind to-                     [Going.
Mille H. Stay-that letter of the steward's which you found in the
park-.
Mad. A. Well?
Mlle HI  Have you got i; with you?
iMatd. A. Of course.
A Zlle II. Give it to me.
Jlaod. A. To you! Why.
Mltle H. No matter.  Suffice it that my hopes, and yours —the
very life of all our plars-depend on the use I shall make of that
letter.




A POOR YOUNG MAN.                        839
Mad. A. Oh, well, take it.  rGives letter.]  I'm  sure you'll make
muclh better use of it t.lati I caii.  [Aside.] Upon my life I'll oo and
ask B-vaunnes wlhat lie nieanu-t s's tlhat.                  Eit.
ille H. tlWhy, w\ (liyil iature el:dow mle with a. heart, to suflittl  a
in.tellect to conmll)eh elld?  Hid I l)een-1 h)oirn a fool,. like tilhat womlan,
this dependent stAte would Iiave iboulit with it calil endturanlce, if
not happiness.  But, as I am, it is misery.  H(ow easy is bouilty to
the'rich.  How iiatural is vitue to the happy.  Be heaid my3 w oirds
as hle camne irn-niusit have divilied tlheir purpoit,. Well well, if I
have taulght Iiml to desp)ise me, lie shall learn to fear me, too.  He
dared to read mle a lesson, and I hate him  lor it, evetn thouh     I profit
by it.  If I must fall, he shall share the ruill he has caused.
Enter MARGUERITE.
Alar. Helouin!
MIll., -H. Marglerite!
1Mar. Hush! To prevent remark, I came by the small stairway,
throuah the conservatory. My miother has been allxious.
Mlle II. Much alarm1ed.  She has gone to seek yon.
/la r. I knlow it.  I have seiit Alain to overtake aid bring her back.
Before she conies, I have a wold to say to you. It is of Motinsieur
Matluel.  I liave strotl  reason to believe tliat you have most strangely
miisjidgaed his character and his intentiolis.
MlIle II. I knliow him to be the Marquis de Chatmpcey.
Alar. And I know that if his birth be noble, his heart is no less so.
A lle H. It is very recently, then, that you have made the discovery.
Marl. True.  Now mark.  You have seen the ruins of Elfen?
Mile II. I have.  I was once there with a party, and was the only
womian whlo-dared ascend thle tower.
1Iar. You know the danger, then. Well, I care not now if all the
world should hear it.  We were alone.  By accident, imnprisoned in
thi(se ruins.  I rashly, blindly,falsely accused him, and he, to save
nmy hioor and his own, plunged from that tower in to the gulf beneath!
Allie II. But he escaped.
-Mar. I kniow it and have thankedi God for the miracle. I had not
strenotlh to implore.
Alile II. Upon my word, this is an extraordinary man.
AJfar. MademoiseileMlIle II. And understands so well how to turn his talents to the
best accoumt.  Why, poor child, and i ou don't see through all this.
Yesterday it was a swinimitlg match, producing< an admirably planned
and effiecltual scene.o  To-niglht, it is an exhibitionl of daring activity.
The ge!tlencmali has been brilliaiitly educated.
lfar. You evidenitly hate him...Mile H. And why l   On my-own account    No!  What is he to
me?  But when I see that he dares to bring his plots and machinations here, and intends yoa for their victim, I am  free to confess, I
do despise and hate him!




40                   A POOR YOUNG MAN.
Mar. These are grave accusations. What proof have you to sup.
port tlhem?
MiZle II. Al. you suspect me. For the sake of this stranger, you
doubt the truth of one you hase known for years? Well, be it so-I
will oive you proof, since you demand it. Do you know his handwritillcr 
liuar. [ do. I have had to look over many papers he has copied
for tny mlothler.
Mtle I. Look at that letter. Now listen: [Reads.J  " lMy dear
Dlsmvarets: Ifullow youtr instructions exactly. But will they avail to
win foi r.  me the blright rewa'rd for all I have to endure. I do not
think the dowry will be as'arge as I had hoiped.Mar. Great Ileavens!
Mlle IT " Btt I have sworn to win it, and though ther'e are many
obstacles here to make the task a hard one, yet, to achieve it, I will
serve, like Jacob, for'forty years, if need be-What a pity he did not
finish it. Tlhis was found under the window of his room by Madame
Aubrey and, by her, handed to me.
Mar. Enough. SMy resolution is taken.
Ehnter MIADAMIE LAROQUE and BEVANNES.
Mlad. IJ. Oh, my dear child! What a state I have been in about
you. How did you get back I What happened 
Ma'r. The shepherd who locks up the tower of Elfen, happened to
fasten it before I left. Some reapers returning home, heard my cries
aud brought him back to release me, that is all
Enter MANUEL.
Mad. L. Ah, Monsieur, you have recovered from the effects of
your fall, I hope?
Man. Entirely, Madame.
1lad. -L. [To MARGUERITE.] But you, my child, must be fatigued,
nervous —
lMar. On the contrary, dearest mother, I never f61t better or more
cheerful than to-night, which I will prove to you whenever the ball
commences.
Bev. The ball! why, surely, you'll never think of3M-ar. Dancing 2 Indeed but I shall though-and you,., de Bevannres, will be my first partner. will you not?
Bev. With thle greatest delight-but pray, let me adviseMar. Advise nothing-you shall be my chief cavalier for the
evening.
Bev. But my dressJ!ar. Your residence is hardly two miles from this; you can go
home, dress, and be here again-all within an hour.
r[Speaks to MADAIrE LAROQUE.
Bev. [Aside.] This anxiety portends something. Bevannes, my
boy, the chase is nearly over, for the quarry is in siht..




A POOR YOUNG MAN, 4.
Mar. Nonsense, my dear mother   I will have my own way for
once.
MJad. L. For once f
iMar. iLy carriage shall takle TI. de Bevannes, and bring him back.
Wliere are all the servants.    Ilere, some one-oh' the steward! go
an11 order my carriage
JIad. L. [Surprised at her tone of voice.] M5y dear.
flan. [Qnuetly rising and rinzging a bell, which summons ALAIN,
who enters.] I believe Mille Marguerite has some orders for you.
Alaiz. MademoiselleM.Yar. I have none-you. may leave the room.      [Exit ALAINi
Bev. Come, come, this sort of thing won't do.
Mliar. Monsieur de Bevannes.
Bev. As you please-but permit me to regret that I have not the
riglht to interfere here.
Marn. Your regret is unnecessary, sir-for if I did not see fit to
obey the lady's orders, I hold myself at yours..Bev. Enough, sir; I shall act accordijngly.
Mfad. I  Gentlemen, I beg, I entreatL]Mar. Monsieur de Bevannes.
Bev. Mademoiselle.
Mar. Have the goodness to follow me-I must speak with you in
the presence of my mother only. Not a word, if you would ever
speak with me again-follow me now, at once.
[Exit with MADAME LAROQUE.
Bev. [To MIANUEL.] I believe, sir, we comprehend each other 2
MANUEL, bows-Exit BEVANNES —MANUEL terns and encounters the
look of MLLE IIELOUIN, who cur-tsies and exits.
Man. I see plainly now to whom  I owe all this. Well, well, what
matters it to whom?  The one thin ray of light upon my desolate and
gloomy path has vanished. Pshaw! This is no time for dreams or
vain regrets;                                           [Rings.
Enter ALAIN.
Has Dr. Desmarets returned!
Alain. No, Monsieur.
lMan. The moment he arrives I must see him.
Alaimn. I know-I- know all about it; I overheard. Oh, sir, this is
most unfortunate.
Manz. It is, but unavoidable. I dcid not seek i tAlain. And that devil of a Belannes is a fine swordsman, and the
best, pistol-shot in Brittany.
Alan. So much the better. The contest will be the more equal.
Aai.n,  Indeed!
lan. I have had much practice with both weapons.
Alaim. Oh then, pray do me one favor, sir. Don't kill him, but hit
him in the leg. He's so deuced proud of his leg and foot.




42                      A POOR YOUNG MAN.
Ian. There, that will do.  Let me know  the insltafit the Doctor
arrives.
Alain. I will sir, I will, but don't forget.  Pray don't forget the
leg-ttle ler, sir, if you love mle.                          [Exit.
lan. I -r1 myself, it lnmttels nlot, but myn sister, my liltle darling,
hellless sister-sholld I tall-0Oh! Heaven, let my errors be so atoied,
and look down in pity on the orphan child, bereaved of earthly vuccor, to be the more dependent upon thine.
[AS he raises his head, he perceives BEVANNES approaching, and his
bearing beconmes calrn and 1resolute.
Enter BEVANNES.
Bev.'Monsieur Ma'nuel, can I hlave a few words withll you?.Marn. I an at your service, sil'.
Bev. What I am about to say, considerina  our  position, may seem
ilrregnlar, Lut I obey orders which cannot be disputed.  Besides, I
believe r,o man can doubt my courageMlan. Not I, bte assured, sir.
Bev. To be lbiief, I am Conlmmissioned by the ladies to express their
rerert for' what has just occurred.  M'lle Marguerite, in a moment of
forgetfulness, gfave you certain orde:'s, which it was plainly not your
province to fulfil.  Your susceptibility was justly wounded.  We
admit it, and-lan. Nol one wvold more, sit-, I entreat.
Bev. Your bhatid. [MIANUEL gives his hand.] The ladies also desire
me to express their hope tlhat this momentary nisundersstanuding wvill
not deprive tfhem of your good  fflces, the value of wlich tlhey fully
appIre,'iate, and I amn extremely happy in having acquired withlin the
last few minutes, the righlt to join1 my entreaty to theirs.  Aly most
ardent wish is abtout to be gratified.
MJan. Inldeed?
Bev. And I shall feel personally obliged if you will not refuse us
your aid upon the eve of an event whichl family affairs and the failing
health of old Monsieur Laroque compels us to hasten.
Enzter ALAIN with a box containing deeds, ~4c.
Oh, thank you.  Place it on the table.  [ALAIN does so and exits.
Thl-ese are the private papers'and memoranda of NMons, Laroque, and
the ladies beg, as a proof of their entire confidence, that you \\ill
examine tliem alnd take notes of such matters as will prove important
to ttle umarriage contl ract.
iMan,. I shatl! obey tlheir orders to the best of mr  ability..Bev. Tlhank you, my dear fellow.  I feel assured you will, and
no0w, I 1trust, we shall in future, understand one another better.  I
do not think; that, hitherto, either of us has formed a correct estimate
of the other. I protest to you that I'm disposed to like you immensely.
For 1myself. I'm a very nice man, but I'mrnust be cultivated.  Cultivate




A POOR YOUNG MAN.                          43
me, my dear sir, and.I give you rny word you'll find me one of the
most awreeable fellows you ever knew; you will, indeed.  Cultivate
me, I be".                                                     [Exit.
Man. Well, wvell.  He is her equal in fortune, and tlelrefore. of
course, above susiecion.  Poor irl' Sle is unawar, e tlhat, in tlhis world
the greatest begalrs are not always the roorest.  Slte wouhld sfe how
I call sut))olt tlte tolrtnlre sthe inflicts.  Sihe shall be gratifiedl. for she
st: all see me even at the fiot of the altar.  But she will not;'riumph
there, for her pride, lofty as it is, shall pale before my owrn.  Now to
my work. [Sits and tu'rns over papers.] Nothina' here that I have
not seen betfoe.  " Title Deeds t('"-Umph!  Legacies to my children."  " Marriage p)lrtion for Marguerite" and —Ah! What's this 
Mv name!  "The Atllilles'" — es, I remnember, our family had large
estates tlhere, but that xvas long aao.  Let me see, let me see. [lie
reads. and as he does so his face expresses, first, surprise, and then
convictiorn and trilumph.] Great Heaven! And can) this be so! Miserable old main.  Tliis, thlen, is tile secret ot your wanderingls. your
visions. and of nmy ulisiuo1lit influence. And now, now I have them in
mry power.  They shiall find tlhat there is still some blood left in the
heart that they would crush.  This proud, u1nfeeling (ill, Ihas yet to
learn the meaning of that bitter word, hztumlity, and slie shall learn it.
[MIARGUERITE speaks withonto
Mlar. He wvil soon return. dear mother.  Meintinme I will prepare
for the ball.
r[She enters, crosses slowly, and exit, after a 7ook at MANUEL.
lan. No-lno-I cani not   Never,  never, by my  act, shall the
blush1 of shanie crimson that noble face.  Laroque cannot live long.
Let his crime and his confession die before hitu i [ihitsic.] To my
deep love I consecrate the sacrifice.
Burns paper.  hIfile he contemplates it burning, MADAME AuBREY
looks in unseen by him.
SCENE II. —A  hall in the Chateau.
Enteir BEVANNES and  ALAIN, meeting.
Bev. Alain, who arrived just now.
Alain. The Doctor. sir.  He's gone to Monsieur Laroque's room.
Bev. Is Mademoiselle Margllerite's carriage ready for me'.
Alai~n.  Quite ready, Monisieulr.
Bev, Very well. Tell the laoties I slhall be back in an houlr, at most.
Alain. You'll harve to drive fast, sir, to do it in tllhe time.
Bev. I slIall nmake my toile-tte less per-fect than usual, and take an
elaborate reveuge another time.
En ter DESMARETS.
Pes. Bevannes that you. where are you off to I.Bev,  Honme, for a short time.




44                   A POOR YOUNG MAN.
Des. Better stay where you are-the ladies may want your assist.
ance..Bev. I know —at the ballDes. Ball stuff!  If I doi't mistake, you'll have something else
to think of. Alain, let that prescription be sent to the village nnmmediately,.Alain. Yes, Doctor.                                   [Exit.
Bev. Why, what's the matter?
Des. Old Laroque is very ill to-night. By the by, what's this he
told' me at)out a nmarriag e in the family?
Bev. Quite true. The fair Marguerite has become alive to my
merits-she knows me at last.
Des. And accepts you?
Bev. Of course.
Des. Little fool.
Bev. Sir!.Des. I don't mean you.
B'ev. Ah!
Des, I tell you what, my friend, you hardly know what you've
undertaken. I wish you joy-I wouldn't have the management of
gill for a trifle. Ecod! if she takes a fancy to the moon, she'll exliect you to give it her.
Bev. Oh, I'm not afraid. However, I'll go and dress, as it is her
wish, and take the chance of the ball comitg off.
Des. And you've determined to marry her 
Bev. Most certainly.
Des. Spite of all her caprices?
Bev. DecidedlyDes. And if she wants the moon —Bev. She must fetch it herself.                       [Exit.
Des. Queer match —what does it mean?  As to her loving that
fellow, I don't believe a word of it. Now to the old man-it won't
do to leave him alone-he's got one of his wandering fits on him, and
he'll be all over the house if I don't look to him. What a nice quiet
life a doctor's is.                                      [Exit.
SCENE. III.-Sanme as First —Mlusic
MIANUEL discovered asleep-MSAD. AUBREY apens door and looks zn.
Mad.'A. Worn out with the day's excitement, he's asleep at last
[Comes in.] What could that paper have been, I saw him burn? Ahi 
thlere's tile envelope lie threw away, whern he put it in thje flame,
[Pickcs it atp.] So, so —what's that? a footstep.       [Exit.
MONSIEUR LAROQUE opens door and looks in —lie is very pale and
appears much exhausted —Ie looks baclk and becko is, as if to followers-Music ceases.
Lar. This way-this way-quickly-but silently. Silently, men




A POOR YOUNG MAN.                      45
or we shall spoil all. Remnember, they are English, and spare not!
no quarter! no quarter, mind-bl)ut softly-softly-and fire not until
I oive tim word    Tnlhe-th!en- every dCI)p of Saxon blood shall float
aworlid of crime flromn off my soul! One molent —now! now
Iie raiseJhis arm as if to strike, when he sees MANUEL,. upon,whose
-face the larnp throws a powerful light-A pause.
Heaven have mercy!'tis he. At such an hour as this I can not be
mistaken! It is heC-[MA1NsE awakes.] —My Lord Alarquis!
MARGUERITE appears.
Xlan. What is this'?
Lar. Pity-pity-and forgive me.
[MIANUEL all at once comprehending, advances to M. LAROQUE.
ruan. Miserable man, I pity, and I forgive.
Mar. What does this mean?
Aan. Oh, nothinlg, Mademoiselle, but I thought, it better to humor
his delirium.  [LAROQUE staggers. MNIANrUEL places him in chair.
Enter ALAIN, DESIARETS, MIADABIE LAROQUE and MLLEf HELOUIN.
Alar. Grandfather, dearest, speak to me-it is Marguerite, your
child, to whom you NWere always so good. who loves you so. You
have some thought, some remembrance which torments you. Is it
not so?  Tell me, dearest, tell your own Marguerite.   [AIusic.
LALOQUE looks up, makes one or two endeavors to speak, when his
head again falls on, his breast.
Mar. Mother! mother! Oh Heavens! Can nothing be done?
DR. DESMARETS places his hand on LAROQUE'SI heart, anid looks at
MANUEL,,who, in* answer to an appeal fromz  MARGUERITE and
MADAME LAROQUE, points upwar'ds.
END TABLEAU V.
Lapse of Some Months.




46                       A POOR YOUNG MAN.
T A B L E A U VI.
Saloon in the Ciateauz.La,roque splendidly decorated annd 4 niish edl
Arches a-., L. aJnd C. ALAIN and Ser-vanlts discovered arran.gitlg
ftl'ritti r'e, lightintg lamlps. 6'c.      [               JM-tic.
AZain. There now.  I thiltk everything is pretty  vell arralnoed
hlere, so rtltn aw     all of you and see to'the prel)arations ontsile.
[Exeunt servants.]'Ponl my life I'm nearly done up.  All of a soiddell to cllanl(e a hiouse that ihas, for the last five miontlhs appealied
like a moUlnlillg coacll, into a dailndified, brighlt-looking mansion pepa.re-Il forl a tlarriage feie, requires morle inventive geinius tlhan evei I
shtall get credit for.  If I could oinly extend my transformingn pmwers
to thie tflces of the family, I should  be much gratified, for such a
grimn-looking  household exists not in Brittany  at this moment.
There's M'lle Marg-uerite.  The nearer the time approaches for tlho
marriage, the paler she growvs.  Madame Laroque does notlilg blut
fireeze ani(d shiver, Mons. Manuel is absent for days together, and 1adaname Aubrey weeps a good tea-cup full about every two hours. Cheerful work, very..Enzter  MADEMOISELLE HELOUIN.
2 lie HI. Alain go and tell Monsieur Manuel I wish for a few moments' con versation with him.
Alain. Monsieur Manuel, M'lle?  Why, bless you, he's been at
Largeot for the last three days.
lt ilie H. HIe has returned.  I saw him  ride into the court-yard
some fifteen minutes since.
Alarn. Where shall I tell him to come to you, Mademoiselle?
1I lle II. Are all your preparations made here?
Alain. Yes, Mademoiselle.  I have sent the servants to other work.
M71 lie 11. Request lIons. Manuel, then, to see me here, and to come
instantly, as it is important I should speak to hitn at once
Alain. Very well, Mademoiselle.                            [Exit.
M llel Ielotui goes to Arches and ascertains that no one is near- to
listen.
J71Ile I.  And now, Manuel Marquis de Champcey, we will try
the issue.  How often and how vainly do I question my own heart.
Were Manuel other than he is, should I purstue him tllus?  What mot'ive sways my action?  Is it love? Ambition?  Both?  I know not,
and will not reflect:  Tlere lies the path.  Some resistless impulse
urges me along, nor iwill I, can I swerve, till all is won or lost,
Enter MANUEL.
Milan. Mademoiselle, good evening.  Alain informs me that you
tvish to speak with me.




A POOR YOUNG MAN.                         47
Mlle 7. For a few moments. Your stay at Lanceot has been
shorter, tIian usual.
Ma.n. I retlllriCed a day  earlier than I had intended.  Respect for
tlhe f;Lmil suggests that I should inot be absent on an occasion like
the p- preselnt.
MAllie IA. An occasion tha.t gives you an olporltunity of showing
t!lat you possess moral, as well as physical courage, of no common
orl'de r.
1lfn. You are pleased to be enigmatical.
ille 11. I shall inldulhe in no elnigma that you cannot speedily
solve.  Anld now. IManluel, take good heed of what I say, but I wrarir
you (1o not jud(ge mle by a conIlion standalrd. My na turne anid my
sa(l dependalnt lot, place nee beyolnd the )pale of those borni for a Ihappier fa;te.  Firom the filrst h(out  we met, my heart Nwas drawn insensibly towards you.  Still that heart was safe.  A  meire spark existed,
wlielh reason and reflection might have killed; you yourself, il defining ihe bolld of sympathy bet\veen us, raised from that spark a flame.
Ifa)n. Mladame, ill justice to myself, I must interrupt you. Never
by wvord or deed have IlMile I. Go on sir, pray do not spare me. Never have you encouraged, you would say. Well, I arant it.  Be it so. Your reselve and
col(less could not alter me.  What fite but burns the fiercer iti the
frosty air?  And yet if you have pride, so too have I, and I will confess that something more exists to keep the flame alive than love.
Ambition, anl the hope to t~riumph over one who is a rival.  These, I
am fi ee to own, would be incentives enough for nie, if love existed not.
ilan,. Mademoiselle. at the risk of appearing vain, I must tell you
you.are most fortunate.
Mle If~. Indeed sir, how so.
MJan. In sayinug all this to a gentleman.
Mlle Jr. Oh, sir, of that. I'm well aware, by birth —
Alan. And principle.  I do not affect to despise the one, but I take
more pride in tile other. Time first, is for the present, buried.'There
fore, if you have anyr appeal to make, let it be to the la.st.
l llle II. I have an appeal to mal;e, but, even though compelled to
differ with so sage an adviser, I shall make it to an ally more powerful than either.
Mlan. And what is that?
A lle II. Self interest.
Alan. You think so?
Allle II II'm sure of it.
IMan. Will you ptlrmait me to suggest that an important ceremony
is to take plalce in this room to-niaht, and thme hour approaches.
Mlle H. Well; then, if I appear abrupt, attribute it to your delicate
reminlder, and not to my own desire.  You lova vMarguerite LaroqueAlan. MIademoiselle, this is beyondMlle H'. You love Marguerite Laroque.  That love is hopeless.




48                    & rool YOUNG MAN.
Everything is prepared for the ceremony you speak of, and if a shade
of doubt.as to her destiny existed, it can live no longer now..I possess a secret whllich, if given to the wolld, will complomise your honesty as a maln, your honor as a gentleman, and sink the proud name
you bear to a depth that even the despised governess could look down
upon with pity. Manuel Marquis de Chamipcey, give me the title she
canl never bear, and I am1 silent. A Tvife none the less devoted because, at first, unsought-a friend none the less sincere, though newly
found.
-Man. Mademoiselle, you are a singular instance of a well klnown
fact.
Mlle H. And what may that be, sir?
Man. That the cleverest people sometimes do the silliest things.
Had you been a simple, uneducated rustic,,you would have reflected
seriously before you lowered yourself in the opinion of the man you
professed to love. But, as you are-accomplished, shrewd, and resolute, you have taken the worst road by which to gain the end you
coveted. Nay more; you have allowed impulse to snatch the reins
fiom  principle, and those unbroken steeds, Passion and Ambition,
have taken the bit in their mouths, galloped off with common sense,
and I very much fear it will cost you somle time and trouble to come
up with them. I need hardly add, Mademoiselle, that I decline continuingo this conversation.                             [Ex zt.
MIl6 IZ. [After a pause.] Be it so. The sooner ended the sooner
to my work. I swear, tile thought of the revenge I'll take on this
proud fool, makes me all but rejoice in failure.  [Music heard withotut.]  The guests are arriving. I must not be found here. [Ezit.
Enter ALAIN, then two servants, who arrange tables, chairs, pc. Enzter MADAMBE LAROQUE, MILLE MARGUERITE, M DE BEVANNES, DESMARET, MONS. NOURET, -M'LLE HELOUIN, MADAM AUBREY, MANUEL
and Guests.
Mad. L. [to servants.] That will do, you may retire.
[Exeunt ALAIN and servants.
Des. Before you proceed to business, Monsieur Nouret, I will
ma-ke a few preliminary remarks, if you will allow me.
MEo/s. Nouret. Certainly, Doctor. Pray speak.
Des. For the information of those friends of the family who are
yet unacquainted with the facts, I wish to state that, before the death
of M. Laroque, he wrote a letter to be given to me, his oldest friend;
when he was no more. I shall read a short extract. [Reads.] "For
these reasons it is my earnest desire, nay positive injunction, that my
grand-daughters' marriage shall take place within six months of my
death, with the sanie cerembnies and rejoicings as though I were still
living, and the reading of the will shall immediately succeed the
marriage.:'   And now, Monsieur, before proceeding, it is necessary
for you to state that all is ready for the reading of the will irmmediately on our return.
AMons. N. I trust all will be ready, Doctor; but, at present, I can



A POOR YOUNG MAN.                       49
not say it is so, for although I find the will and codicils of the de-'ceased to be-in the most perfect order, and numbered in regcular succession, I have, thus far, been unable to discover the first of the series, marked No, 1. All the rest are here —2, 3, 4, and 5-but I is
wanting. Now the legacies are, wital the exception of a few to the
old servants, entirely to Mons. Laroque's blood relations.
iad.. A. [ Weeps.]  Oh!
Mons. N. Be comforted Madame, he was indeed a kind man. His
blood rel:tions have all been thought of.
Mad. A. But I'm not a blood relation. Oh!           [ Weeps.
Mille II. Is it not possible that the missing paper may containiMad. 4. No doubt of it, no doubt of it. And that is burnt.
All. Burnt!
Mile H. You saw Mons. Manuel, the steward, burn apaper.  You
found the envelope, and gave it to me?
lMad. A. I did, but I never1 lie H. Silence! [Gives envelope to MoNs. NOURET.]  Examine
that, sir.
3Nons. N. It is the hand-writing of the deceased, and the envelope
of the peculiar size and make of all the others. [All look at MANUEL.
Mad. L. Monsieur Manuel, what have you to say to this?
Bev. Speak, sir.
Man. The lady is right, I did burn the paper.
M2ad. L. Great Heavens!                            [All rise.
Man. But she is mistaken as to the purport of the document.
Bev. Upon my soul this is a little too strong..Mad. L. Oh, Monsieur 3Manuel, do not tell me you have so far
abused our confidence. Do not tell me that one whom I had begun to
love almost as a son, has fallen low enough to commit so vile an act.
I am an old woman, sir, and in the course of nature, you must outlive me. My child is provided for. You shall share with me while
I live, and all I have shall be yours at last if you will but refute this,
if vou will but give me the joy of knowing you are innocent.
MlIons. N. Come sil, this painful matter may be set at rest, perhaps,
if you will tell us the content of that paper.
Des. Manuel, my son.
MIad. T. Oh! for my sake!
lamn. [Looks at MARGUERITEr and says.]  I will not speak.
[Exit DESMARETS.
Mad. L.'[After a sho't pause.]  Then sir, much as it pains me,
you must, clearly understand that we can live no longer under the
same roof.
Mlan. [Going.] I know it, madame.
Hlar. And [Ile turns at the sound of her voice,] have you nothing,
not one wolrd to say in your defence?
Man. Not one word.                                    [Extt.
Jlad. L. Oh Marguerite, my joy on this occasion is lost in this
most unhappy discovery.
MJfar. [Aside.]  And my misery doubled. Do not follow me, dear
mother, I will rejoin you dilectly.                     [Exit.




50                   A POOR YOUNG ~A~N.
HIld. -A. Oh!                                       [Weeps,
Bev. My dear madame, I beg to remind you that this is my *wed
ding day. Pray reserve your tea;rs till after the ceremony. [Re-ente.
DESMAARETS.] My friends, if you'witl adjourn to the reception room,
the carriages will be ready immediately.
[Exeunt guests and MiADAME AUBREY.'Des. [To MI'LLE H.]  Mademioiselle, you do not appear as much
shocked as we are by this unfortunate discovery.
Mlle H. Simply, Doctor, because, knowing the gentleman, I am
not surprised.
Des. You are not.
nI lle H. Not at all.                                 [Exit.
Des. Umph! Bevannes, my dear fellow, I'm loth to delay an event
which, by a popular but pleasant fallacy, is supposed to be the happiest in a man's life, but I must request, before we go to the chapel,
that you will give mie a few moments of your attention.
Bev. Certainly Doctor; the evenill's before us. Pray vary theentertainment accordiang to your own taste.
Des. My dear madame, I must also request your presence, and, as
what I ain about to say is important, and guests are still arriving,
this apartment will soon become too public for our purpose, therefore, with your permission, we'll retire to the library which, as the
works it contains are purely instrudtive, is about the last place Out
fasrionable friends are likely to visit.
Mlad. L. Had we not better wait until we return fromDes. By no means. What I have to say must be said at once, and
so, madame, permit me.                            [Offers arm.
Bev. Doctor, that's a remarkably nice young man you recommen
ded for steward.
Des. Never mind bhim. We'll talk about him to-morrow. LExeunt.
Enter MANUEL, dressed for traveling.
Mlan. For her, for her, this bitter, bitter trial. Oh, let that thought
sustain me. Falsely I had imagined that the change from the sweet
dreamy days of my youth, to the stern realities of my manhood, had
created for me that tower of strength to the unfortunate-enduLance.
But, no, no; too truly do I feel that, until this moment, I have not
known what utter misery is-onelast, last look at scenes made sacred
by her presence; at objects hallowed by her touch, a.id then, and
then-            -He sinks into a chair.
[Enter MARGUERITE. She comes down slowly.]
Mar. Manuel!
Man. Marguerite!
M1ar. Hush! m,,ve not, noi speak till you have heard me. I am
here to ask forgiveness.
Man. Forgiveness I




A PooR YOUNG MAN.                      61
Mar. Now, now, I know your truth, too late, oh, Ifeavens! too
late late I know your pure, unselfish heart. You bore suspicion, instilt, scorn, but I believed you not. How nobly you risked life for
honor; yet I believed you not..actn. At last thenAl/ar. At last, conviction came; that letter you mislaidMaan. Relating to my sisterMitar. AAye, and not to me. I know it now, Desmarets told me all.
Jican. And could you thinkMJar. I did, I did.  Oh, do not scorn me, but grant my prayer, the
first, the last you'll ever hear from  Marauerite. There is some mystery hidden beneath your refusal to speak of the paper you destroyed —some reason which refers to me. Do not deny it, for I know it.
You cannot deceive the watchful eves of love-for I love you, Manuel. We must part, and foiever. My word is pledged already for
my marriage with Bevannes. But by the love which you professed
for me, for your dear sister's sale,:for mine, [she kneels,j clear' your
good name of this foul stain. Oh, Manuel! Manuel! do it in pity
for the rash, unlhappy girl, who, with ruin staring at her from the
fatal rock, suspicion, spite of reason, spite of warning, wildly, madly dashed herself upon tile shore and made her heart a wreck.
[En2ter M'LLE' HELOUIN.]
Ille II. Good. I could not have wished it otherwise. [To MAD.
LAR!OQUE and DESsMARETS who appear with MAD. AUBREY, guests
and Moss. NOURET.] Look, Madame! Look, sir! Observe the faithful, loyal steward, who, not content with firaud and betrayal of his
trust, still lingers on the scene of his disgrace.  Behold the proud
gentleman, who completes his list of honorable actions by ensnaring
the affbctions of that unthinking girl —the betrothed wife of another,
the daugfhter of his benefactress. f[MADA~ME LAROQUE and DES.MARETS
raise MARGUERITE, who is almost fainting.]  Well, you hear all this;
you witness it-you are men and stir not-your friend is betrayedan aged lady insulted in your presence, yet there stands the man,
erect and fearless. Will you bear this, I say, or will you cast him
foi-th like the dog he is.
[ Th7e gentlemen ma7ce a movement toward MANUEL.
Des. Stop. Before IMons. Manuel departs, I have a piece of intelliaence to communicate. which it is important for him, as well as you,
to hear. You will the better comprehend it, if I request your patience while I read a portioni of this paper, left in my care by Mons.
Laroque, with discretionary power to destroy or reveal its contents as
my judgment should dictate. Under present circumstances I choose the
latter course,  This is in the old man's own handvwritin, and you
will admit, is an impdtrlttnepisode ill his history. The events described occurred in the West Indies. [Reads.]' On the approach
"of hostilities between the French and English, my father, Pierre
"Laroque, who was steward to the theln Marquis de Champcey, rec eived orders to sell immediately, the magnificent estates on the




,52                   A POOR YOUNG MAi.;
"island, and then to join the Marquis (who commanded a small
"French fleet) and to bring  with him the money realized from the
" sale. The estates were sold for a very large sum. With this money
"my father and myself started to join the Marquis, but, on our way
were interrupted by an English frigate and taken prisoners. My
"father died defending himself. I was promised my life, and per" nmission to escape with whatever money we had with us when taken,
"if I would reveal the hiding place of the French fleet. How shall
"I write the words? I yielded. A large English force attacked
"them. The Marquis was killed, and I came to France a wealthy,
" but dishonored man."  Such is the confession left in my hands,
Such is the confession which makes the present Marquis de Chamnpcey
master of this and all the property the old man left, and such is the
duplicate of the paper which that young man destroyed.
r Great sensation among all the dramatis persone.  The Doctor leads
MARGUERITE to MANUEL, then turns and embraces MAD. LAROQUE.
Guests crowd round MANU EL, congratulating him.]
Mille II. [To MADAME AUBREY.] Hark'ye MadameWad. A. Oh! go away, you nasty thing. You've, made a pretty
mess of it. You've caused me to do mischief enough. I won't be
corrupted by you any more.
[She goes to MANUEL and shakes hands with him violently.
Mlle H. [Aside.]  Baffled. Foiled at every turn. [Enter BEvANNES.] Ah! no. One hope is left. Mons. de Bevannes, you are
well arrived. In good time to defend your honor, which is greviously in peril here. That man, the steward, by a strange reverse of
forttune, has become master of this great estate.
Bev. So I have already been informed.
Aille II. Well, look there. Have you eyes?
Bev. Madame, you wound my vanity.
Mille H. Do you not see that the new master here is likely to become lord where you alone should reign? Will you tamely submit
and give her up?
Bev. Madame, you just now reflected on my person, now you do
worse; you attack my heart. Do you think I am the man to step,
between two devoted young creatures for my own selfish ends? No
The moment I found the dear girl was penniless, I destroyed the contract, and in the most generous manner, gave her back her word.
Mad. L;. I won't ao near her. I do believe she'd bite me. Doctor, will you have the goodness.?
Des. [To M.1 LLE HELOUIN.]  Mademoiselle, you were very anxious
just now for somebody to turh out-I don't wish to be ungallantbut what is going to take place h:ere will coincide so little with your
arrangements, that the ladies think-that perhapsAMlle II. Enougoh, sir. [To MANUEL.] If I aim criminal, you shall
not call me hypocrite. I go, and as a parting gift, take from me such
wishes for your future, as bitter scorn and baffled hate may leave.
rExit.




A POOr YOUNG MANo                     53
Bev. A very nice young person that.
Des. But come, come, what the deuce are you all standing here
for2 
[Enter ALIN.]
Alain. Please Madame, the grounds are lit up, the carriages ready
and all the country folks are waiting.
Des. Come. The bride and bridegroom. Come along..Mar'. Now-at once. Oh, Doctor.
Des. Now-at once? Of course; do you think all our pretty preparations are to go for nothing?
Bev. Mademoiselle, I've got myself up utterly regardless of expense, and if somebody ain't married, I shall withdraw my consent.
Mad. A. Oh, Mons. de Bevannes do not let that deter you, if you
meant what you said the evening Mons. Laroque died.
Bev. I!
Mad. A. Why, be it so.
Bev. Be it so   Be it what, Madame?
lMad. A. I will dispense with further courtship.
Bev. You may, for an indefinite period.       [They go up.
Des. So, as soon as Manuel has changed his dress —
Mar. Nay, dear Manuel, you shall not change it. For the last
time, obey the headstrong girl. In that dress you often bore her
taunts and insults; in that same dress you shall receive her vows of
love and duty.
Man. Let it be so then. I will but ask one ornament-the bud
you wear upon your breast. [She detaches it from her dress.] Look
at it, dearest, It lacks the rich color and the gorgeous blush of one
you gave me once before. But that was lost and trampled under
foot. There let it fade, and typify the errors and misfortunes past,
whilst this, just putting forth its beauty into life, shall be an emblem
of dear hopes and happiness to come.
[ALAIN gives a signal-the same chorus as in fourth tableau is heard.
The curetains are suddenly drawn back from  the three arches,
showing the park and grounds splendidly illuminated with colored
lamps, and thepeasantry assembled, in their picturesque Breton holtday costume; a troop of little girls headed by CHRISTINE, form,
and strew flowers before MANUEL and MIARGVPERITE, and the Cur.
lain falls on a Tableau.]
THE END.