ACT II.

FIVE YEARS SUPPOSED TO ELAPSE.

_SCENE same as Act. 1.--Table, R. C.; arm-chair, L. C.; small table, R. C.; with chair R., in which is seated MRS. LORING, knitting._

_Mrs. L._ Dear me, how time does fly. It’s five years this very day since our Harry disappeared. Five long years, and no word, no sign, from him. Perhaps he’s dead. Poor boy, innocent or guilty, his loss has been a sad blow to his father. Since that day, he has never been the same man. Prostrated by a long illness, the result of that terrible excitement, feeble in body, wandering in mind, he is but the wreck of the grand old doctor of former days. The school has been given up, the house mortgaged, and what the end will be, Heaven alone can tell. But for Dilly, this would be a sad house. Dear child, she is the ruling spirit. When the blow fell, forsaking all her roguish pranks, she proved herself a woman. The doctor cannot stir without her, and we have all come to depend upon her quick and ready judgment. To-morrow the interest on the mortgage is due. I know we have no money to meet it, no friends to assist. Ah, me, I fear the house must go, and that I am convinced would kill the doctor. (_Enter LUCY, R._)

_Lucy._ Aunt Loring, I have come to you for advice. Mr. Hastings sent me a note this morning, in which he declares his love for me, and asks me to become his wife.

_Mrs. L._ I have long suspected this would be the result of his stay here. Does it surprise you, Lucy?

_Lucy._ You know how persistently he has visited us for the last three months, and how attentive he has been to me. He is very agreeable, and--and--

_Mrs. L._ You love him. Is that it, Lucy?

_Lucy._ No, no! I do not, and I sometimes wonder at myself: I like to be with him, he is so gay and so attentive; but, when he begins to speak of love, I don’t know why--but a face comes between his and mine, the face of my dear brother Harry, and then I almost detest him.

_Mrs. L._ You do not believe him guilty of the charge made by Harry?

_Lucy._ I do not know what to believe: I only know I wish he would never speak of love to me; but still--

_Mrs. L._ Well, Lucy?

_Lucy._ We are poor, very poor: this life we now lead cannot last much longer. Some day this place must be given up; then what will become of father, you--all of us? Dilly works hard to keep the wolf from our door, and I am but a poor drone in the hive. Mr. Hastings is rich: were I his wife, this place might be secured, father made comfortable, and you and Dilly happy.

_Mrs. L._ And yet you do not love him?

_Lucy._ No, no: I cannot while this uncertainty exists about Harry.

_Mrs. L._ Then do not marry him. A marriage without love is a blasphemy; and a marriage with Fred Hastings could not be a happy one. Give him his answer, plainly and fairly, and leave our fate to be adjusted by a higher and wiser power. Hark! here’s Dilly: do not speak of this before her; it would make her unhappy.

_Dilly._ (_Outside, C._) Ha! Ha! Ha! what a queer old doctor! you make me laugh so, my sides ache, you’re so funny. (_Enter C., supporting DOCTOR. LUCY runs and places arm-chair C., in which they seat him._) There, I’ve given you a good long walk; now be a good boy, be quiet, and entertain me. (_Sits on stool at L. of DOCTOR. LUCY kneels, R._)

_Doctor._ Ah, Dilly, you’re a funny girl--a little rogue--you want to keep me all to yourself.

_Dilly._ Of course I do: ain’t you my cavalier, my true and faithful knight, ready to break lances and fight for me?

_Doctor._ Yes, yes! ah, dear me, dear me!--

_Lucy._ What’s the matter, father?

_Doctor._ Ah, Lucy, my child, your father’s getting old. I can’t tramp so far as I could once. Mrs. Loring?

_Mrs. L._ Well, doctor.

_Doctor._ Isn’t it most school-time?

_Dilly._ (_Aside._) Dear me, the school again!

_Doctor._ You know we must be very prompt, or we shall set a bad example.

_Mrs. L._ You know it’s vacation now, doctor.

_Doctor._ Dear me! so it is, so it is! strange I should forget it. But isn’t it a very long vacation, Mrs. Loring?

_Mrs. L._ About the usual time.

_Doctor._ The pupils will be coming back soon, won’t they? We must have every thing neat and tidy. Greenlake Seminary must keep up its reputation. I shall be glad to see the lads,--Hastings, Winders, and all the rest of them. What rogues they are: I hope they’ll behave better this term, and keep our Harry--no, Harry’s dead.

_Dilly._ O doctor! don’t talk about the school: let that take care of itself. Talk to me.

_Doctor._ Harry’s dead. What day is this, Dilly?

_Dilly._ The 1st of August.

_Doctor._ Harry’s dead. Five years ago; it was a beautiful day when we buried him. Don’t you recollect it Dilly: we placed a marble slab over him--we took it from the village bank. I don’t understand why we did that. Do you, Dilly?

_Dilly._ No matter, doctor. Let’s talk of something else: you know you promised me a sail on the lake this afternoon.

_Doctor._ (_Looking at his watch._) Nine o’clock: come, boys, to your places,--to your places. Master Root, you were very imperfect in your history yesterday: be careful sir--be careful. Master Hastings, why must I speak to you so often about your grammar. Master Winders, you were in Farmer Bates’s orchard last night. Harry, Harry,--dear, dear, I forgot! Harry’s dead.

_Lucy._ Dear father, don’t talk any more about Harry.

_Doctor._ Why, Lucy, child, where have you been all day? Where have you been?

_Lucy._ I’ve been here, father, waiting for you.

_Doctor._ Waiting for me? Why, I haven’t been away. Yes, yes, I have: Harry drove me to the cars early this morning. I found something by the way,--this little girl (_patting Dilly’s head_): her name’s “Bread on the Waters.” That’s what Harry calls her. She’s going to live with us,--ain’t you, little girl?

_Dilly._ Indeed, indeed, I am, doctor.

_Doctor._ Harry says, “Keep her, father, keep her;” and Harry’s a good boy,--a good boy. Where is he this morning? Why don’t you speak? Somebody run and call him.

_Dilly._ Why, doctor, you know he’s gone a long journey.

_Doctor._ Dear me! so he has, so he has,--a long journey to the bank. He’s a good boy--a good boy--he’ll be back soon.

_Dilly._ Oh! why don’t he come? why don’t he come?

_Mrs. L._ Dilly, Dilly, be calm.

_Doctor._ Don’t be in a hurry, little girl. Don’t be in a hurry (_FRED appears, C._): all in good time--all in good time.

_Fred._ May I come in?

_Lucy._ Mr. Hastings?

_Dilly._ He here again.

_Mrs. L._ Certainly, walk in.

_Fred._ Ah! thank you, delightful morning, ain’t it. You grow young, Mrs. Loring. Ah, Lucy! I hope I find you well, and Dilly too. How’s my old friend the doctor, this morning?

_Doctor._ Ah, Butts, how are you?

_Lucy._ You are mistaken father: it’s Mr. Hastings.

_Doctor._ Ah! Master Fred, I’m glad to see you. Back to school again, hey? Well, well, lad, be more careful of your grammar this time. Study, boy, study.

_Fred._ Of course I will. With so renowned a master, as Dr. Harlem, I mean to study hard, and then I shall be sure to succeed.

_Doctor._ Come, Mrs. Loring, you see the boys are coming back: let’s go and see if every thing is in order. (_MRS. LORING takes his arm._) Greenlake Seminary has a reputation to sustain. Come: good-by, Dilly.

_Dilly._ Good-by, doctor. Now, don’t tire yourself, for you must take me out for a sail this afternoon.

_Doctor._ Yes, yes, when Harry gets back: you know we can’t do any thing without Harry. (_Exit DOCTOR and MRS. L., R._)

_Fred._ The doctor appears feeble this morning, Lucy.

_Lucy._ Yes: poor father fails very fast. At times his reason wanders, and for whole days he is as you have seen him to-day.

_Fred._ Poor doctor: is there no help for him?

_Lucy._ None, I fear.

_Dilly._ You are mistaken, Lucy. There is one thing that would set him right.

_Fred._ And pray what is that?

_Dilly._ The return of Harry, with his innocence clearly established.

_Fred._ Ah, indeed! you know that can never be.

_Dilly._ You think so?

_Fred._ I know it. It’s no use now to mince matters. Harry forged that check to get himself out of a scrape. He will never return.

_Dilly._ I think he will.

_Fred._ You have great faith, Dilly.

_Dilly._ In Harry? Yes. I believe him innocent; and I am sure the day will come when he will stand beneath his father’s roof in the calm, proud consciousness of vindicated innocence.

_Fred._ You are a brave girl thus to stand by him,--a convicted felon.

_Dilly._ ’Tis false. He is no felon.

_Fred._ His flight--

_Dilly._ Was my act. Would I had never counselled him to it! Had he remained, all would have been made clear.

_Fred._ Ah, you suspect--

_Dilly._ Yes; but I do not accuse.

_Fred._ Dilly, you are an enigma. Do you know that doubting Harry’s guilt places me under suspicion?

_Dilly._ Does it?

_Fred._ Dilly, you surely do not suspect me?

_Dilly._ Mr. Hastings, we will speak no more of this.

_Fred._ But, Dilly--

_Dilly._ I repeat, I accuse no one. The time will come when all this will be made clear. We must wait.

_Fred._ (_Aside._) That girl _does_ suspect me. (_Aloud._) You’re quite right, Dilly. It’s a disagreeable subject, and unworthy our attention this bright, beautiful morning. Come, Lucy, it’s too pleasant to be cooped up indoors. What say you to a sail?

_Lucy._ I shall be delighted to go. Dilly, will you go with us?

_Dilly._ Thank you; but I have something very particular to attend to this morning. You must entertain Mr. Hastings.

_Lucy._ I’ll do my best, Dilly; and I won’t be gone long.

_Fred._ There’s a beautiful breeze on the lake.

_Lucy._ I’m all ready. Good-by, Dilly.

_Dilly._ Lucy, one moment.

_Lucy._ Certainly. (_To FRED._) Will you excuse me?

_Fred._ Oh, don’t mind me! I’ll stroll down the path and wait. (_Exit, C._)

_Dilly._ Lucy, that man loves you.

_Lucy._ I know it.

_Dilly._ You know it? He has spoken then.

_Lucy._ No. He has written, and now awaits my answer.

_Dilly._ And you, Lucy; do you love him?

_Lucy._ Why do you ask, Dilly?

_Dilly._ Because it would break my heart to know you did. O Lucy! think of Harry, your dear brother, falsely accused. Think of his words five years ago regarding this man.

_Lucy._ I do think of them, Dilly, often, very often; and, remembering them, I can say to you, No, I do not love him.

_Dilly._ Oh! bless you for those words: they lift a weary load from my heart. While Harry is away--

_Lucy._ I am heart whole. I know your suspicions, Dilly; and, till they are proven true or false, Fred Hastings can have no claim upon me. Good-by! he’s waiting.

_Dilly._ Good-by, Lucy! (_Exit LUCY, C._) The time will surely come, but when--when that old man tottering on the brink of madness shall be in his grave, when this loved home shall have passed from us, when old age and gray hairs shall be upon us. Faith,--yes, I have faith; but this watching and waiting is weary and wearing. No clew by which to work, nothing but bare suspicion; and yet I have faith. This man Hastings, after nearly five years’ absence, appears again among us. He knows I suspect him; and yet he dares to woo the sister of his betrayed friend. Oh! why _don’t_ Harry come? If he would only write; but no, no word, no sign. Pride keeps him silent; but I know he will one day return. Heaven grant it be not too late to save his father! (_Enter BUTTS, C._)

_Butts._ O Dilly, Dilly! such a crime! such an outrage, a high-handed, diabolical assault on law and justice!

_Dilly._ Why, Mr. Butts, what’s the matter now?

_Butts._ Sh--! don’t speak so loud. We must be cautious: my reputation depends upon it. I haven’t breathed a word of this to a single person; but you know since the time you managed to help Harry give me the slip, I’ve had a great respect for you, and always come to you for advice.

_Dilly._ What is this new outrage?

_Butts._ A forgery, a stupendous forgery.

_Dilly._ Here in our village?

_Butts._ No: in California.

_Dilly._ California! What’s that to do with us?

_Butts._ A great deal to do with _me_, Dilly; for I am the humble individual destined to bring the perpetrator to justice.

_Dilly._ You, Mr. Butts?

_Butts._ Listen, Dilly. Three months ago, the Malone Bank of Sacramento lost twelve thousand dollars by the payment of a check purporting to be signed by the firm of Dunshaw & Co., wine-merchants, presented by one John Robinson a noted gambler and stock-speculator. Three days after, the check was found to be a forgery. In the mean time, the said John Robinson had embarked in a steamer bound for New York. The firm of Dunshaw & Co. immediately offered a reward of five thousand dollars for the arrest of the said John Robinson. I have just received a note from some unknown party, giving me the intelligence of the forgery, and acquainting me with the fact that the said John Robinson is in this vicinity. Five thousand dollars! Why, Dilly, I shall be a rich man.

_Dilly._ When you get the forger.

_Butts._ Precisely. That won’t be long. I’ve got my eye on him.

_Dilly._ You suspect.

_Butts._ Do I! I tell you, Dilly, when Butts gets his eye on a culprit, there’s no escape.

_Dilly._ Mr. Butts, didn’t Mr. Hastings come here from California?

_Butts._ He did. By the by, he might give me information,--valuable information.

_Dilly._ Suppose he should be John Robinson?

_Butts._ Oh, pooh, pooh, Dilly. It isn’t possible. Suspect him? why you’re not so sharp as I gave you credit for. He’s here openly. Do you suppose John Robinson would travel about in his original hair and whiskers? No, John Robinson is disguised. I’ve got my eye on him. There’s been a very suspicious character prowling about the village for the last two days. It’s him, John Robinson. But he won’t prowl much longer. Oh, no! Butts has his eye on him, Butts has his eye on him. Good-by, Dilly! Don’t speak of this,--not a word, not a syllable. Five thousand dollars! He’s trapped, he’s trapped. (_Exit C._)

_Dilly._ This is very strange. Why should this John Robinson come here? I wish this matter was in any other hands than those of Mr. _Butts._ Zealous as he appears, he was never known to ferret out any crime of more importance than that of robbing an orchard. He’ll be sure to make some mistake. (_Enter MRS. LORING, R._)

_Mrs. L._ I have persuaded the doctor to lie down, Dilly. Can I be of any assistance to you?

_Dilly._ No, thank you.

_Mrs. L._ The interest on the mortgage is due to-morrow.

_Dilly._ O auntie, I know it is; and we have not the money to pay it. I know not where to go to procure it. We must ask Mr. Hartshorn for further time.

_Mrs. L._ I fear that will be useless. Mr. Hartshorn is the principal of a rival seminary: he has long desired to possess this place; and, I fear, will not let the opportunity pass when he can procure it at a very low price.

_Dilly._ Oh, do not say that, auntie! If he refuses, who will aid us?

_Bob._ (_Outside C._) Just my luck! (_Enter, C. with carpet-bag._) Halloo, here you are, here you are!

_Dilly._ (_Rushing up, and seizing his hand._) Why, Bob Winders, you dear old fellow! where _did_ you come from? I declare I must hug you. (_Throws her arms round his neck._)

_Bob._ That’s right, Dilly. Hug away. I like it: it’s just my luck. (_Gives his hand to Mrs. L._) Mrs. Loring, I’m glad to see you looking so well.

_Mrs. L._ Robert, welcome, a thousand times welcome.

_Bob._ Well, now, that’s hearty. Dilly, how you’ve grown! My eyes, what a bouncer!

_Dilly._ Why, Bob, how _you_ have altered!

_Bob._ Altered. I suppose you refer to my weight. “How are the mighty fallen!” Well, I flatter myself I have altered, and for the better. It’s a deused sight more comfortable; and there’s no end to the money saved. Provisions have sensibly lowered in price, and the tailors look decidedly gloomy, since I’ve donned this slender habit. I’ll tell you how it came about. When I presented myself to my respected parent on my return from school, his first exclamation was, “Good gracious! how fat that boy grows!” followed by a lengthy survey of my by no means diminutive person. “This will never do, boy: you must travel.” Being of an obedient disposition, and being plentifully supplied with funds, I did travel. I first attempted to cross the ocean, was shipwrecked, and for twenty days skimmed the cold ocean in an open boat, my daily food being one biscuit. It would naturally be supposed that a loss of superabundant flesh would follow. It didn’t. I increased in weight. Finally, after much tribulation, I reached England. I was blown up on the Thames: not an ounce of my flesh forsook me. I was smashed up on a railroad. Flesh still immovable. Paraded Paris, rushed into Russia, sighed in Siberia, peeked into Pekin, leaned against the Leaning Tower at Pisa, roamed in Rome, swam in Greece, picked a bone in Turkey, and finally brought up in California, weighing twenty pounds more than when I left home. Just my luck! But here Providence befriended me. I started for the mines. Domesticated myself in a little place called Leankin, was persuaded to run for office, and, by the time the campaign was over, I was run with a vengeance,--run out of pocket, run off the track by my opponent, and run down to my present slender proportions.

_Dilly._ O Bob! you’ve been unfortunate. I’m so sorry!

_Bob._ Unfortunate!--not a bit of it. When I’d lost all my money, I fell in with my partner,--a glorious fellow my partner. We worked in the mines together till we had amassed a snug little capital, then started business in San Francisco; and to-day there is no more successful firm in California than that of Winders & Co.

_Dilly._ I’m so glad! But, Bob, have you no tidings of our Harry?

_Bob._ Harry! Why, Harry’s here, isn’t he?

_Dilly._ Have you forgotten the events of five years ago?

_Bob._ Oh, I remember! Harry ran away to escape being jugged by old Butts.

_Dilly._ And you know nothing of him?

_Bob._ Me! Why, bless you! how should I know any thing about him? Hasn’t he been heard of?

_Dilly._ Since that day we have never heard of or from him. His poor father has been very ill, and now is almost bereft of reason.

_Bob._ You don’t mean it! This will be news for Har--I mean my partner.

_Dilly._ Your partner? What is this to him?

_Bob._ Oh, nothing! only he is naturally interested in any thing that interests me; that’s all.

_Mrs. L._ Yes, Robert, your old master has seen sad times since you left. This house is mortgaged, and must now pass from him.

_Bob._ No! You don’t mean it?

_Dilly._ The interest is due to-morrow, and we’ve no money to pay it. Oh, if Harry were only here!

_Bob._ As he isn’t, let me be your banker. Here’s my wallet: it’s in the condition in which I was five years ago,--it’s overburdened, and wants tapping.

_Dilly._ No, no, Bob! You are very kind; but we have no claim upon you, and I could not think of taking your money.

_Bob._ Claim! confound it! Isn’t this the home of my old master? and do you suppose I am going to stand by and see it pass from his hands when I have plenty? No, Dilly. Harry and I were brothers here at school; and, when his father is in trouble, I’m bound to aid him for the good he has done me, lickings and all.

_Dilly._ Oh, no, no, Bob! do not ask me to take it.

_Bob._ Well, then, I won’t. Mrs. Loring, who holds this mortgage?

_Mrs. L._ Mr. Hartshorn.

_Bob._ Then I shall do myself the honor to call upon Mr. Hartshorn, and put him in good spirits by paying the interest.

_Mrs. L._ O Robert! you have a kind heart.

_Bob._ Have I? Well, I’ve got a full purse too, and it’s pretty heavy; and, as I’ve got rid of heavy weights, if this doesn’t lighten soon, I shall throw it into the lake.

_Mrs. L._ Well, well, have your own way.

_Bob._ I always did. It’s just my luck. I’m very dusty. Shall I go to the old room?

_Mrs. L._ Yes; and I’ll show you the way. O Robert, Heaven will surely bless you. (_Exit, R._)

_Bob._ Bless her dear old face! Dilly, it does seem good to be in this house once more.

_Dilly._ O Bob, we’re so glad to see you! You have comforted sorrowing hearts to-day.

_Bob._ Have I? Well, that’s pleasant. But, Dilly, where’s Lucy?

_Dilly._ She’s on the lake with Fred Hastings.

_Bob._ Fred Hastings! He here? Just my luck!

_Dilly._ Lucy will be glad to see you, Bob.

_Bob._ I hope she will, Dilly; for I’ve come a great ways to see her. Good-by! (_Exit, R._)

_Dilly._ Good-by! Dear old fellow! how fond Harry was of him! Ah, me! if Harry would only come now! (_Turns, and meets HARRY, who has entered, C., disguised as an old man, gray wig, beard, red shirt, and sailor trousers._)

_Harry._ A morsel of food, I beg. I have travelled far, and I am very hungry.

_Dilly._ Hungry! Poor old man, sit down. I will bring you some food. No one is ever refused in this house. (_Exit, R._)

_Harry._ Thanks, thanks! Heaven bless you! Home again at last, after five long years; once more I stand within the dear old house. How familiar every thing looks! There’s the arm-chair in which father sat, the little stool on which I nestled at his side, there’s Aunt Loring’s knitting-work, and Lucy’s book,--every thing just as it was in the old times; and that was Dilly, my little Dilly, grown to woman’s estate. Oh! how I long to clasp her in my arms! They told me I must not come in here; but I could not help it. I _must_ know if I am remembered here, or if the bitter accusation made against me has driven me from these hearts. (_Enter DILLY, with meat and bread, which she places on table, R. C._)

_Dilly._ There, that’s the best I can do. You are heartily welcome. Sit down, and make yourself comfortable.

_Harry._ Thanks, thanks! (_Sits R. of table._) I’m so hungry! You have a kind heart, a kind heart, young lady! Heaven will surely bless you for your kindness to a poor old wanderer.

_Dilly._ Now, don’t stop to be complimentary.

_Harry._ (_Pretending to eat, but watching DILLY attentively._) May I ask whose house this is?

_Dilly._ This is Dr. Harlem’s house.

_Harry._ Dr. Harlem, Dr. Harlem? Oh! I remember,--the master of the seminary.

_Dilly._ Are you acquainted here?

_Harry._ Long ago, long ago! In better days I knew this place.

_Dilly._ But you don’t eat.

_Harry._ Oh, yes! I do. I’m very hungry. Dr. Harlem,--he was a kind, good gentleman.

_Dilly._ Ay, that he was and is. But times have sadly changed. Illness has almost unsettled his reason.

_Harry._ (_Starting up._) Gracious heavens!

_Dilly._ How you startle me! What ails you?

_Harry._ (_Recovering himself._) Nothing, nothing. I’m very old, and the fear of losing _my_ reason haunts me. When you spoke of that old man, you startled _me_. I beg your pardon.

_Dilly._ Well, sit down. If you don’t eat, I shall fear you are not pleased with what I have prepared.

_Harry._ But I do eat (_eating ravenously_); don’t you see I do? I’m very hungry. (_After a pause._) Dr. Harlem,--are you his daughter?

_Dilly._ Oh, no! His daughter Lucy is on the lake.

_Harry._ But didn’t he have a son?

_Dilly._ Yes, he has a son.

_Harry._ Yes, yes, I remember!--a wild, reckless lad. He was sent to prison. He was a forger.

_Dilly._ ’Tis false! He was noble, generous, and good; and those who dare accuse him of crime are base slanderers.

_Harry._ (_Aside._) She’s true, she’s true! (_Aloud._) I beg your pardon; I was told--

_Dilly._ Told?--how dare you, beneath his father’s roof, partaking of his charity, repeat this falsehood? Oh, shame, shame, upon you!

_Harry._ I beg your pardon once more. It was ungrateful in me, I spoke without thought. Forgive me, I will go.

_Dilly._ No, no, sit down! Forgive _me_; for it was wrong in me to speak thus to one who never knew Harry.

_Harry._ Ah! Harry has a warm friend in you.

_Dilly._ I hope he has; for his kindness to me can never be repaid. For five years, every thought of mine has been to find some way to clear him, some way to prove his innocence. But, alas! his father’s illness has required all my attention; has kept me at his side: and I have found no way to serve him.

_Harry._ If he is innocent, wait: the time will come when the truth will triumph. Have faith, my child, have faith.

_Dilly._ I have, I have! But you’re not eating.

_Harry._ Oh, yes, I am; for I am very hungry. Heaven bless you for your kindness to an old man (_placing his hand on her head_), and bless you for your trust in one who wanders through the earth with a blasted name.

_Doctor._ (_Outside, R._) Dilly, Dilly, here, quick!

_Dilly._ The doctor calls me; I must go. Now make yourself comfortable; I’ll soon return. (_Exit, R._)

_Harry._ My father’s voice!--sick, almost bereft of reason; and I cannot go to him. The sight of me might kill him. O false friend! the time will come, the time will come! Heaven send it soon, or my heart will break. (_Sinks into chair R. of table, and buries his face in his hands. Enter BUTTS, C., very stealthily._)

_Butts._ Five thousand dollars! Now, who would imagine that mass of hair and old clothes was worth five thousand dollars? And yet it is. Once within the clutches of this limb of the law, I’m a rich man. Oh, ho, Butts, you’re a sharp one, you are! (_Strikes his hand on table._) Wake up, you’re wanted. (_HARRY raises his head._) At last we meet.

_Harry._ Meet! Who are you?

_Butts._ Oh, you don’t know me! Well, that’s not singular; but I know you; I’ve had my eye on you: you’re a deep one, you are! But I’ve got you! California too hot, hey? Well, we’ll give you a warm corner here, John Robinson. Oh! I know you: you can’t humbug Butts. Suppose I should tell you just when you left California, John Robinson? how much money you took, John Robinson?--suppose I should lay my hand on your shoulder, John Robinson, and say you are my prisoner, John Robinson,--what would you say, John Robinson?

_Harry._ That, if you lay a finger on me (_producing a pistol, and presenting it_), I’ll blow what little brains you have into yonder lake.

_Butts._ (_Dropping under the table._) Murder! put up that infernal machine. Help, murder!

_Harry._ Shut up! If you speak again you’re a dead man. Come out here! (_BUTTS obeys._) Now take a seat, and make yourself comfortable.

_Butts._ (_Sitting L._) Comfortable?

_Harry._ The tables are turned, hey, Butts?

_Butts._ Oh, you villain, you villain! But you can’t escape me; I’m an officer of the law; never known to take a bribe. I believe in justice, and justice will surely overtake you, John Robinson.

_Harry._ I sincerely hope I shall some day have justice.

_Butts._ The hemp has grown, the rope twisted, that will twist your little neck, John Robinson.

_Harry._ So you are Butts the thief-taker, are you? Well, I’m glad to meet you. I’ve a little business with you. Butts, an officer of the law, who believes in justice, and yet turned his only son out of doors.

_Butts._ How! What do you know about my son?

_Harry._ I know that he is dead.

_Butts._ Dead! My Bill dead!

_Harry._ Yes; it was my hand that closed his eyes, away off in the mines of California.

_Butts._ My boy dead!

_Harry._ He told me the story of his life. He loved a poor girl, and his father turned him out of doors.

_Butts._ She was a vile--

_Harry._ Stop, Butts! She was a pure, noble woman: her only fault was loving your scamp of a son. He married her. I have his word for it and the marriage-certificate. He married her nineteen years ago; took her to the little town of Elmer, fifteen miles from here. They had a child.

_Butts._ A child! I never heard of that.

_Harry._ Oh! you was too busy looking after rogues. You forgot your own scamp of a son. When the child was four years old, the mother died, broken-hearted; for your son was a villain. Bill determined to try his luck in California. But the child was an encumbrance that must be got rid of. So one dark night, Bill took her in his arms, and started for his father’s house, to leave her on the doorsteps. But Bill, not having led a virtuous life, was wanted by certain officers of the law. They tracked him. Bill found they were after him, and, with fatherly care, flung his offspring by the roadside, and fled. He died three months ago in California.

_Butts._ And the child?

_Harry._ Ah! the child is safe.

_Butts._ Thank Heaven for that! Where is she, my grandchild?

_Harry._ Safe, I tell you. I, and I alone, know where to find her.

_Butts._ John Robinson, you’re a noble--no--I mean you’re a--Oh! lead me to her. I’m an old man. This child--I long to clasp her in my arms.

_Harry._ Lead you? Well, Butts, under the circumstances, that is a very cool proposition. You forget: by your own admission, I am your prisoner.

_Butts._ You are free, only give me the child.

_Harry._ Five thousand dollars for John Robinson, hey, Butts?

_Butts._ If it were fifty thousand dollars, give me the child, and you are free.

_Harry._ I’m astonished, Butts! you an officer of the law, never known to take a bribe!

_Butts._ Oh, curse the law! John Robinson, if you are a man, lead me to that child.

_Harry._ On one condition, Butts.

_Butts._ Name it.

_Harry._ There’s a man named Belmer stopping at the village inn: bring him here in half an hour.

_Butts._ And the child?

_Harry._ Bring Belmer here in half an hour, and the child shall be placed in your arms.

_Butts._ Bless you, John Robinson, you’re a trump! I’ll be here in half an hour. Robinson, you’re a brick! (_Exit, C._)

_Harry._ So the train is laid. I’ll take myself off, lest the sight of that dear girl’s face unman me. If all works well, when next I enter here none shall have cause to blush for Harry Harlem. (_As he is about to exit, C., he meets LUCY, who enters, C. He stands aside, bows, and hurries out, C._)

_Lucy._ A strange old man! Who can he be?

(_Enter FRED, C., LUCY sits, R._)

_Fred._ Lucy, I entreat you unsay those words. Give me at least the power to hope.

_Lucy._ No, Fred: I am convinced a union between us would be unhappy.

_Fred._ But give me some reason, Lucy. You love another?

_Lucy._ No.

_Fred._ Then why reject _me_? I love you truly, devotedly. Become my wife; and, if you do not love me now, I will find some way to make you.

_Lucy._ No, Fred: I repeat it is impossible. My father needs my care. Were he well, I think he would not sanction it, and--and--

_Fred._ Lucy, you are not just to me or your father. He needs your care: he needs something more than that. I know how his small fortune has gradually dwindled away, that his house is mortgaged, that he has not a penny in the world. Become my wife, Lucy. I am rich. Give me the power to aid him?

_Lucy._ No, no, Fred: better as it is. Dilly, Aunt Loring, I, will work night and day to gain for him every comfort.

_Fred._ But think, Lucy. The best you can do will only make him comfortable for a little while. With a pressing creditor like Hartshorn, this house must at last be given up.

_Lucy._ I know it must, I know it must. Heaven help my poor father!

_Fred._ I offer you my hand: accept, and to-morrow the mortgage shall be paid, principal and interest. See, Lucy, I’m at your feet. I love you truly, sincerely.

_Lucy._ My poor father! What shall I do? oh, who will aid us now? (_Enter BOB, R., with fishing-pole, stumbles against FRED, who is kneeling._)

_Bob._ Just my luck! I beg your pardon. Why, Lucy!

_Lucy._ (_Rushing to him._) Bob Winders, dear Bob, how glad I am to see you! (_Throws her arm round his neck._)

_Bob._ Just my luck! Why, Lucy, I hardly knew you.

_Fred._ (_Aside._) What sent him here at this time? (_Aloud._) Bob, old boy, where did you drop from? (_Gives his hand._)

_Bob._ Why, Fred, is it you, still fluttering round the old flame, hey? Where did I drop from? From the four quarters of the globe. I’ve been in England, France, Russia, everywhere, including California.

_Fred._ California!

_Bob._ Yes, California. It’s a fine place, California, the Golden State. Lots of gold to be got by digging; and, if you object to that, money can be easily got by signing your name to a slip of paper. Just before I left, a chap raised twelve thousand dollars by putting a name to a blank check. But it wasn’t his name; ’twas the name of Dunshaw & Co.: his was John Robinson. “O Robinson, how could you do so?”

_Fred._ It was discovered.

_Bob._ Of course it was. Robinson sloped; but he’ll be caught, he’ll be caught! Lucy, I see you are engaged. I’m going out to try the trout. I used to like the sport; and I rather think the trout liked me, for I never managed to hook many of them. Just my luck! Good-by!

_Lucy._ Oh, don’t go, Bob! I want to talk to you. I’ve scarcely seen you.

_Bob._ Well, there isn’t so much of me to see as there was. But I’ll be back soon. (_Aside._) There’s popping going on here, so I’d best pop off. (_Exit, C._)

_Lucy._ The dear old fellow, Harry was so fond of him! Don’t you think he has altered, Fred?

_Fred._ Very much, Lucy. But he is still the same blundering fellow he always was. But for him, just now, I should have had your answer, I think your favorable answer.

_Lucy._ I have told you, Fred, I do not love you. Do not, I entreat you, urge me to a course I know I should regret. I would do any thing for father--

_Fred._ Then marry me, Lucy. Give me your hand. I will wait for your love.

_Lucy._ To save my father, Fred-- (_Enter DILLY, R._)

_Dilly._ Lucy, our old friend Bob Winders has arrived. Have you seen him?

_Fred._ (_Aside._) Confound that girl! she’s always in the way.

_Lucy._ Yes, he passed through here just now: I never saw such a change. (_Enter DOCTOR, R., with the portfolio used in Act 1._)

_Doctor._ Dilly, Dilly, don’t scold! I wandered into your room in search of you. I picked up your portfolio; and I want you to write to Harry.

_Dilly._ Write to Harry?

_Doctor._ Yes: write to Harry. Tell him to come home: we want him. Don’t you understand, child? Write, write, write!

_Dilly._ (_Takes the portfolio. The DOCTOR sits in an arm-chair, L. C._) What can I say to him, doctor?

_Doctor._ Say--say? What can you say to Harry? I believe the child is mad. Say that we want him here; that his old father’s heart is breaking, breaking, breaking. You want him, don’t you, Dilly?

_Dilly._ Heaven knows I do!

_Doctor._ Then write: quick, quick! (_DILLY sits behind table, R. C., and opens the portfolio._)

_Fred._ Ah, Dilly, I see you still preserve my present of five years ago.

_Dilly._ Preserve it? Yes; but I have never opened it. The memory of that day is not pleasant to recall. Now, doctor, you shall tell me what to write.

_Doctor._ Commence “Dear, dear Harry.”

_Dilly._ Oh, of course! “Dear, dear Harry”-- (_drops her pen, starts, and remains with her hands clasped, her eyes fixed upon the portfolio. Aside._) What do I see? am I dreaming?

_Doctor._ Yes, “Dear, dear Harry.” He is dear,--my own dear son. Who says he’s dead? It’s false: he stood by my bed last night. Who says he’s a forger? ’Tis false. He’s a good boy, a good boy--first in his class--the largest number of credits--no checks for Harry Harlem! Checks! they said he forged my name,--the name of his old father; and they took him, put him in prison, and hanged him by the neck till he was dead, dead, dead. A forger! ’tis false, false, false.

_Lucy._ Why, Dilly, what’s the matter?

_Fred._ (_Approaching table._) Dilly, child, what ails you?

_Dilly._ (_Starting up, and closing the portfolio._) Away, away!--you, of all men! I beg your pardon: I know not what ails me. (_Takes portfolio, and comes down, L._) (_Aside._) The proof, the proof at last! What shall I do? who trust? I dare not leave Fred Hastings here with Lucy: I fear his influence. Oh, if I could but make the doctor understand!

_Doctor._ Have you written, Dilly?

_Dilly._ Not yet, doctor (_sits on stool at his side, L._) I want to talk with you first; I want to tell you a story.

_Doctor._ But I don’t want to hear a story; I want you to write to Harry.

_Dilly._ Listen to me a moment, doctor. You’ll like this story: it’s about a boy very much like Harry.

_Doctor._ Then he was a good boy, a good boy!

_Dilly._ Yes, he was a good boy until he gained a friend, a false friend, who led him into temptation.

_Fred._ (_Aside._) What is the girl up to now?

_Dilly._ This false friend taught him to gamble.

_Doctor._ That wasn’t like Harry: he never gambled.

_Dilly._ He lost a large sum he could not pay. The false friend proffered assistance; gave him a check purporting to be signed by the boy’s father, with a very plausible story to account for its being in his possession.

_Fred._ (_Aside._) What is she driving at?

_Dilly._ The fraud was discovered; the boy punished.

_Doctor._ The boy! It should have been the friend.

_Dilly._ You’re right, doctor; it should. But the proof was strong against the boy, and he suffered. Even his own father believed him guilty.

_Doctor._ False friend! false father!

_Dilly._ But the boy had another friend, weak but true: five years after, among the papers of this false friend, she found the proof to clear the boy.

_Doctor._ Proof! What was it?

_Dilly._ (_Opening portfolio._) It was like this, doctor.

_Doctor._ Like this?--like this?--Why, I see nothing. A portfolio blotting-paper!

_Dilly._ But on the paper?

_Doctor._ Marks, nothing but marks. Yes, yes, they assume shape,--Aug. 1, Aug. 1. Gracious heavens! what is this? what is this?

_Fred._ I see it all. (_Rushes up, and seizes the portfolio._) Girl, girl, would you kill the old man? You must not so excite him: no more of this. I’ll fling this accursed thing into the lake. (_Runs up, C., and throws the portfolio off._)

_Dilly._ What have you done? what have you done?

_Fred._ Saved the old man from a fever. No more of your confounded stories, Dilly.

_Dilly._ Fred Hastings, you are a villain! In that portfolio is the proof of your guilt: it shall not be destroyed. (_Runs up, C.; HASTINGS seizes her by the wrist._)

_Fred._ Hold, mad girl! Hard words; but, for the sake of the old man, I forgive you. If that portfolio contains proof of my guilt, it’s too late now: it’s at the bottom of the lake. Who can bring it thence? (_Enter BOB, C._)

_Bob._ Just my luck! I knew that lake contained bouncing trout; but I never knew before that it produced any thing so nearly resembling a flounder. (_Holds up portfolio._)

_Dilly._ It’s mine, mine, Bob.

_Fred._ Curse that fellow! He’s always in the way.

_Dilly._ Listen all. I charge that man Hastings with the perpetration of the forgery of which Harry Harlem was accused five years ago. The proof is here. On the blotting-leaves of this portfolio once owned and used by him are indelibly impressed the written lines of the check,--“Aug. 1, 1858. Seventy-five--Andrew Harlem,”--left there when he blotted the check. (_Enter MRS. LORING, R._)

_Lucy._ Gracious heavens!

_Mrs. L._ Is it possible?

_Bob._ By thunder!

_Doctor._ I don’t understand, Dilly; I don’t understand.

_Fred._ You’re right, doctor: it is hard to understand, especially as Harry and I were such good friends. We used our writing materials in common. Of course, he wrote the check on that portfolio; that’s plain.

_Lucy._ Mr. Hastings, I remember the words with which you presented that portfolio to Dilly, “Should I ever become a great man, you can boast you possess something which no one but I have ever used.”

_Dilly._ His very words.

_Fred._ You, too, turn against me, Lucy?

_Lucy._ To clear a dear brother’s name, against you and all the world.

_Bob._ (_Aside._) Ah, ha! I shall have her yet: it’s just my luck.

_Fred._ My friends, I pity your delusion. It is natural we should stand by those we love; but this is a clear case. Harry Harlem is now an outcast skulking from justice, while I--Who dare accuse me of any crime? (_Enter HARRY, C., disguised._)

_Harry._ Be that task mine.

_Dilly._ That old man again!

_Fred._ Yours! Pray may I inquire who you are?

_Harry._ One who for five years has watched your course, knowing you to be a villain, waiting for the proof; one who has watched you first squander the rich inheritance of your father, then fall among the ruined and degraded, living as a speculator and gambler; one who has proof of your last crime, the forging of the name of Dunshaw & Co.,--the hunted felon under the name of John Robinson. (_Enter BUTTS, C._)

_Butts._ John Robinson here! then who the deuse are you?

_Harry._ Belmer--did you find him?

_Butts._ Mr. Belmer waits without.

_Fred._ Belmer--that name! He here? Then I am caught at last.

_Harry._ Yes: Belmer, the detective of Sacramento, waits for you. Shall I call him in?

_Fred._ No, no: I’ll see him outside. So, so! run to earth like a fox! Well, I’ll put a good face on it. Friends, I have a pressing engagement; will you excuse me? I should not have come to this place; but--but--

_Lucy._ Fred, Mr. Hastings, you once professed a regard for me: if it was sincere, I beg you clear my brother’s name.

_Fred._ For your sake, Lucy, yes. I did forge the name of Dr. Harlem to the check used by Harry.

_Dilly_, _Lucy_, _Harry_. (_Together._) At last!

_Fred._ At last? (_To Harry._) Who are you that to-day stand forth as my accuser?

_Harry._ One who, after five long years of absence, now stands beneath his father’s roof cleared of every semblance of stain. (_Tears off his wig and beard._)

_Fred._ Harry Harlem!

_Dilly._ (_Rushing into his arms._) My Harry, my Harry! Oh, welcome, welcome! Here, doctor, doctor, Harry’s come! Harry’s come!

_Doctor._ (_Starts up._) Harry’s come! Where is he? where is my boy?

_Harry._ (_Kneeling._) Here, at your feet, dear father.

_Doctor._ My boy, my dear boy, we’ve waited long for you; but I knew that you would come.

_Lucy._ Dear, dear brother! (_Embracing him._)

_Harry._ Lucy, best of sisters!

_Bob._ Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce to you the junior partner of the firm of Winders & Co.

_Dilly._ Your partner!

_Harry._ Yes, Dilly, my true and fast friend. From the day I left here, we’ve been inseparable. A true friend, a true friend!

_Fred._ If you will pardon me, I think I’ll go.

_Butts._ I think you’d better. Mr. Belmer is very anxious to see you.

_Fred._ Butts, you’re a stupid old fool. (_Exit, C._)

_Bob._ He can’t help that: it’s just his luck.

_Butts._ I think I’d better follow him.

_Harry._ No: Belmer will secure him. Never fear.

_Mrs. L._ Harry, welcome home once more!

_Harry._ Ah, Aunt Loring, still as buxom as ever! thanks, thanks!

_Doctor._ Well, I declare I feel like a new man.

_Dilly._ Ah, I told you Harry would make all right.

_Doctor._ Ah, that he has. I’ll open school again.

_Butts._ I say, Harry, you’ve no ill will against me?

_Harry._ Ah, Butts, I’ve no ill will against any one now, I’m so happy.

_Butts._ The child, Harry?

_Harry._ Dilly, how can I ever repay you for your kindness to my father, for your faith in me? To you I owe the good name I bear to-day: how can I repay you?

_Dilly._ O Harry, you ask me that?--you to whom I owe my happiness, this dear home, these kind friends?

_Harry._ Dilly, you have a relative living.

_Dilly._ A relative?

_Harry._ Yes, a grandfather. Your father died in California: I know his history. Your mother is also dead. Your father’s name was William Butts.

_Butts._ And I’m your grandfather. O Dilly, Dilly! who’d have thought it?

_Dilly._ You my grandfather!

_Harry._ There is no mistake: you are his grandchild. I have the proofs.

_Butts._ Come right here and kiss me. Who would have thought it? Why, Dilly, this accounts for your being such a thief-taker: it runs in the blood.

_Bob._ (_Aside._) Precious little inheritance in that line she received from you.

_Dilly._ You my grandfather! Is it possible? Then I am really somebody after all.

_Butts._ Somebody? Yes, indeed! Grandchild of Jonathan Wild Butts!

_Dilly._ But I don’t want to be anybody’s grandchild. Harry’s my father: I don’t want any other. And, if I am to go away from here,--

_Harry._ Don’t be frightened, Dilly. It’s a good thing to know you have relatives; but I do not propose to renounce my claim. You are my rightful property: I found you by the roadside when deserted by your father. I will still claim relationship; but, Dilly, it must now be as your husband.

_Dilly._ My husband!

_Harry._ Yes, Dilly, be my wife. I have had you in my thoughts night and day for the last five years. You have proved your love for me as a sister; now I shall claim a dearer title.

_Dilly._ O Harry, I do not deserve it!

_Doctor._ She does, Harry; and, if you don’t marry her at once, I will.

_Butts._ What! rob me of my grandchild just when I have discovered my treasure? I don’t like it.

_Dilly._ Oh, yes, you do, grandpa! for I shall love you dearly, I know; that is, if you let me have my own way.

_Butts._ And that way is into the arms of a husband, I suppose?

_Dilly._ (_Giving her hand to Harry._) So Harry says; and I always do just what Harry tells me.

_Harry._ Dear, dear Dilly!

_Bob._ So, Harry, you’re going to take a new partner into the concern?

_Harry._ Yes, Bob: remember the Scripture injunction, “Go, and do thou likewise.”

_Bob._ Lucy, what say you? Will you take an interest in the concern? The senior partner is desperately in love with you.

_Lucy._ O Bob, you’ve been a kind friend to my brother Harry!

_Bob._ That’s got nothing to do with it. I’m getting rid of all superfluous stock; and I find I’ve got too much heart. So I’ll throw it into the market. If you want it, it’s yours at your own price. Yes: I’ll take yours, and call it an even trade.

_Lucy._ Well, I suppose I must say it’s a bargain.

_Bob._ Thank you: we’ll just put a revenue stamp on that contract (_kisses_). I’ve got the best of the bargain: just my luck!

_Doctor._ Ah, that’s right, that’s right! just as it should be! We’re a happy family now, thanks to Dilly! Ah! we have much to thank her for.

_Harry._ Ay, that we have! Father, your words have come true at last,--“Cast thy bread upon the waters,”--

_Dilly._ “For thou shalt find it after many days.”

_Doctor._ Yes, yes: returning peace and happiness after many days, after many days.

DISPOSITION OF CHARACTERS.

R., BOB, LUCY, DOCTOR, HARRY, DILLY, BUTTS, MRS. LORING, L.