The Octoroon; or, Life in Louisiana. A Play in Five acts

Act IV

Chapter 41,639 wordsPublic domain

Scene.--_The Wharf, The Steamer "Magnolia" alongside,_ L.; _a bluff rock,_ R. U. E.

Ratts _discovered, superintending the loading of ship. Enter_ Lafouche _and_ Jackson, L.

_Jackson._ How long before we start, captain?

_Ratts._ Just as soon as we put this cotton on board.

_Enter_ Pete, _with lantern, and_ Scudder, _with note book,_ R.

_Scud._ One hundred and forty-nine bales. Can you take any more?

_Ratts._ Not a bale. I've got engaged eight hundred bales at the next landing, and one hundred hogsheads of sugar at Patten's Slide--that'll take my guards under--hurry up thar.

_Voice._ [_Outside._] Wood's aboard.

_Ratts._ All aboard then.

_Enter_ M'Closky, R.

_Scud._ Sign that receipt, captain, and save me going up to the clerk.

_M'Closky._ See here--there's a small freight of turpentine in the fore hold there, and one of the barrels leaks; a spark from your engines might set the ship on fire, and you'd go with it.

_Ratts._ You be darned! Go and try it, if you've a mind to.

_Lafouche._ Captain, you've loaded up here until the boat is sunk so deep in the mud she won't float.

_Ratts._ [_Calls off._] Wood up thar, you Polio--hang on to the safety valve--guess she'll crawl off on her paddles. [_Shouts heard,_ R.]

_Jackson._ What's the matter?

_Enter_ Solon, R.

_Solon._ We got him!

_Scud._ Who?

_Solon._ The Injiun!

_Scud._ Wahnotee? Where is he? D'ye call running away from a fellow catching him?

_Ratts._ Here he comes.

_Omnes._ Where? Where?

_Enter_ Wahnotee, R.; _they are all about to rush on him._

_Scud._ Hold on! stan' round thar! no violence--the critter don't know what we mean.

_Jackson._ Let him answer for the boy, then.

_M'Closky._ Down with him--lynch him.

_Omnes._ Lynch him! [_Exit_ Lafouche, R.

_Scud._ Stan' back, I say I I'll nip the first that lays a finger on Him. Pete, speak to the red-skin.

_Pete._ Whar's Paul, Wahnotee? What's come ob de child?

_Wahnotee._ Paul wunce--Paul pangeuk.

_Pete._ Pangeuk--dead.

_Wahnotee._ Mort!

_M'Closky._ And you killed him? [_They approach again._]

_Scud._ Hold on!

_Pete._ Um, Paul reste?

_Wahnotee._ Hugh vieu. [_Goes_ L.] Paul reste el!

_Scud._ Here, stay! [_Examines the ground._] The earth has been stirred here lately.

_Wahnotee._ Weenee Paul. [_Points down, and shows by pantomime how he buried_ Paul.]

_Scud._ The Injiun means that he buried him there! Stop! here's a bit of leather; [_draws out mail-bags_] the mail-bags that were lost! [_Sees tomahawk in_ Wahnotee's _belt--draws it out and examines it._] Look! here are marks of blood--look thar, red-skin, what's that?

Wahnotee. Paul! [_Makes sign that_ Paul _was killed by a blow on the head._]

_M'Closky._ He confesses it; the Indian got drunk, quarreled with him, and killed him.

_Re-enter_ Lafouche, R., _with smashed apparatus._

_Lafouche._ Here are evidences of the crime; this rum-bottle half emptied--this photographic apparatus smashed--and there are marks of blood and footsteps around the shed.

_M'Closky._ What more d'ye want--ain't that proof enough? Lynch him!

_Omnes._ Lynch him! Lynch him!

_Scud._ Stan' back, boys! He's an Injiun--fair play.

_Jackson._ Try him, then--try him on the spot of his crime.

_Omnes._ Try him! Try him!

_Lafouche._ Don't let him escape!

_Ratts._ I'll see to that. [_Draws revolver._] If he stirs, I'll put a bullet through his skull, mighty quick.

_M'Closky._ Come, form a court then, choose a jury--we'll fix this varmin.

_Enter_ Thibodeaux _and_ Caillou, L.

_Thibo._ What's the matter?

_Lafouche._ We've caught this murdering Injiun, and are going to try him. [Wahnotee _sits_ L., _rolled in blanket._]

_Pete._ Poor little Paul--poor little nigger!

_Scud._ This business goes agin me, Ratts--'tain't right.

_Lafouche._ We're ready; the jury's impanelled--go ahead--who'll be accuser?

_Ratts._ M'Closky.

_M'Closky._ Me?

_Ratts._ Yes; you was the first to hail Judge Lynch.

_M'Closky._ [R.] Well, what's the use of argument whar guilt sticks out so plain; the boy and Injiun were alone when last seen.

_Scud._ (L. C.) Who says that?

_M'Closky._ Everybody--that is, I heard so.

_Scud._ Say what you know--not what you heard.

_M'Closky._ I know then that the boy was killed with that tomahawk--the red-skin owns it--the signs of violence are all round the shed--this apparatus smashed--ain't it plain that in a drunken fit he slew the boy, and when sober concealed the body yonder?

_Omnes._ That's it--that's it.

_Ratts._ Who defends the Injiun?

_Scud._ I will; for it is agin my natur' to b'lieve him guilty; and if he be, this ain't the place, nor you the authority to try him. How are we sure the boy is dead at all? There are no witnesses but a rum bottle and an old machine. Is it on such evidence you'd hang a human being?

_Ratts._ His own confession.

_Scud._ I appeal against your usurped authority. This lynch law is a wild and lawless proceeding. Here's a pictur' for a civilized community to afford; yonder, a poor, ignorant savage, and round him a circle of hearts, white with revenge and hate, thirsting for his blood; you call yourselves judges--you ain't--you're a jury of executioners. It is such scenes as these that bring disgrace upon our Western life.

_M'Closky._ Evidence! Evidence! Give us evidence. We've had talk enough; now for proof.

_Omnes._ Yes, yes! Proof, proof.

_Scud._ Where am I to get it? The proof is here, in my heart.

_Pete._ [_Who has been looking about the camera._] Top, sar! Top a bit! O, laws-a-mussey, see dis; here's a pictur' I found stickin' in that yar telescope machine, sar! look sar!

_Scud._ A photographic plate. [_Pete holds lantern up._] What's this, eh? two forms! The child--'tis he! dead--and above him--Ah! ah! Jacob M'Closky, 'twas you murdered that boy!

_M'Closky._ Me?

_Scud._ You! You slew him with that tomahawk; and as you stood over his body with the letter in your hand, you thought that no witness saw the deed, that no eye was on you--but there was, Jacob M'Closky, there was. The eye of the Eternal was on you--the blessed sun in heaven, that, looking down, struck upon this plate the image of the deed. Here you are, in the very attitude of your crime!

_M'Closky._ 'Tis false!

_Scud._ 'Tis true! the apparatus can't lie. Look there, jurymen. [_Shows plate to jury._] Look there. O, you wanted evidence--you called for proof--Heaven has answered and convicted you.

_M'Closky._ What court of law would receive such evidence? [_Going._]

_Ratts._ Stop; this would. You called it yourself; you wanted to make us murder that Injiun; and since we've got our hands in for justice, we'll try it on you. What say ye? shall we have one law for the red-skin and another for the white?

_Omnes._ Try him! Try him!

_Ratts._ Who'll be accuser?

_Scud._ I will! Fellow-citizens, you are convened and assembled here under a higher power than the law. What's the law? When the ship's abroad on the ocean, when the army is before the enemy where in thunder's the law? It is in the hearts of brave men, who can tell right from wrong, and from whom justice can't be bought. So it is here, in the wilds of the West, where our hatred of crime is measured by the speed of our executions--where necessity is law! I say, then, air you honest men? air you true? Put your hands on your naked breasts, and let every man as don't feel a real American heart there, bustin' up with freedom, truth, and right, let that man step out--that's the oath I put to ye--and then say, Darn ye, go it!

_Omnes._ Go on. Go on.

_Scud._ No! I won't go on; that man's down. I won't strike him, even with words. Jacob, your accuser is that picter of the crime--let that speak--defend yourself.

_M'Closky._ [_Draws knife._] I will, quicker than lightning.

_Ratts._ Seize him, then! [_They rush on_ M'Closky, _and disarm him._] He can fight though he's a painter; claws all over.

_Scud._ Stop! Search him, we may find more evidence.

_M'Closky._ Would you rob me first, and murder me afterwards?

_Ratts._ [_Searching him._] That's his programme--here's a pocket-book.

_Scud._ [_Opens it._] What's here? Letters! Hello! To "Mrs. Peyton, Terrebonne, Louisiana, United States." Liverpool post mark. Ho! I've got hold of the tail of a rat--come out. [Reads.] What's this? A draft for eighty-five thousand dollars, and credit on Palisse and Co., of New Orleans, for the balance. Hi! the rat's out. You killed the boy to steal this letter from the mail-bags--you stole this letter, that the money should not arrive in time to save the Octoroon; had it done so, the lien on the estate would have ceased, and Zoe be free.

_Omnes._ Lynch him! Lynch him! Down with him!

_Scud._ Silence in the court; stand back, let the gentlemen of the jury retire, consult, and return their verdict.

_Ratts._ I'm responsible for the crittur--go on.

_Pete._ [_To_ Wahnotee.] See Injiun; look dar [_shows him plate_], see dat innocent; look, dar's de murderer of poor Paul.

_Wahnotee._ Ugh! [_Examines plate._]

_Pete._ Ya!--as he? Closky tue Paul--kill de child with your tomahawk dar; 'twasn't you, no--ole Pete allus say so. Poor Injiun lub our little Paul. [Wahnotee _rises and looks at_ M'Closky--_he is in his war paint and fully armed._]

_Scud._ What say ye, gentlemen? Is the prisoner guilty, or is he not guilty?

_Omnes._ Guilty!

_Scud._ And what is to be his punishment?

_Omnes._ Death! [_All advance._]

_Wahnotee._ [_Crosses to_ M'Closky.] Ugh!

_Scud._ No, Injiun; we deal out justice here, not revenge. 'Tain't you he has injured, 'tis the white man, whose laws he has offended.

_Ratts._ Away with him--put him down the aft hatch, till we rig his funeral.

_M'Closky._ Fifty against one! O! if I had you one by one, alone in the swamp, I'd rip ye all. [_He is borne off in boat, struggling._]

_Scud._ Now then to business.

_Pete._ [_Re-enters from boat._] O, law, sir, dat debil Closky, he tore hisself from de gen'lam, knock me down, take my light, and trows it on de turpentine barrels, and de shed's all afire! [_Fire seen,_ R.]

_Jackson._ [_Re-entering._] We are catching fire forward; quick, set free from the shore.

_Ratts._ All hands aboard there--cut the starn ropes--give her headway!

_All._ Ay, ay! [_Cry of "fire" heard--Engine bells heard--steam whistle noise._]

_Ratts._ Cut all away for'ard--overboard with every bale afire.

_The Steamer moves off--fire kept up_--M'Closky _re-enters,_ R., _swimming on._

_M'Closky._ Ha! have I fixed ye? Burn! burn! that's right. You thought you had cornered me, did ye? As I swam down, I thought I heard something in the water, as if pursuing me--one of them darned alligators, I suppose--they swarm hereabout--may they crunch every limb of ye! [_Exit,_ L.

Wahnote _swims on--finds trail--follows him. The Steamer floats on at back, burning. Tableaux._

CURTAIN.

END OF ACT FOURTH.