SCENE. _Residence of_ GENERAL BUCKTHORN, _in Washington. Interior.
Fireplace slanting upward. Small alcove. Opening to hall, with
staircase beyond, and also entrance from out left. Door up stage. A
wide opening, with portières to apartment. Upright piano down stage.
Armchair and low stool before fireplace. Small table for tea, etc.
Ottoman. Other chairs, ottomans, etc., to taste._
TIME. _Afternoon._
DISCOVERED. MRS. HAVERILL, _in armchair, resting her face upon her
hand, and looking into the fire._ EDITH _is on a low stool at her
side, sewing a child's garment._
EDITH. It seems hardly possible that the war is over, and that General
Lee has really surrendered. [_Fife and drum, without._] There is
music in the streets nearly all the time, now, and everybody looks so
cheerful and bright. [_Distant fife and drums heard playing "Johnnie
Comes Marching Home."_ EDITH _springs up and runs up to window,
looking out._] More troops returning! The old tattered battle-flag
is waving in the wind, and people are running after them so merrily.
[_Music stops._] Every day, now, seems like a holiday. [_Coming
down._] The war is over. All the women ought to feel very happy,
whose--whose husbands are--coming back to them.
MRS. HAVERILL. Yes, Edith; those women whose--husbands are coming back
to them. [_Still looking into fire._
EDITH. Oh! [_Dropping upon the stool, her head upon the arm of the
chair._
MRS. HAVERILL. [_Resting her arm over her._] My poor little darling!
_Your_ husband will not come back.
EDITH. Frank's last message has never reached me.
MRS. HAVERILL. No; but you have one sweet thought always with you.
Madeline West heard part of it, as Gertrude wrote it down. His last
thought was a loving one, of you.
EDITH. Madeline says that he was thinking of you, too. He knew that
you were taking such loving care of his little one, and of me. You
have always done that, since you first came back from Charleston, and
found me alone in New York.
MRS. HAVERILL. I found a dear, sweet little daughter. [_Stroking her
head._] Heaven sent you, darling! You have been a blessing to me. I
hardly know how I should have got through the past few months at all
without you at my side.
EDITH. What is your own trouble, dear? I have found you in tears
so often; and since last October, after the battle of Cedar Creek,
you--you have never shown me a letter from--from my--Frank's father.
General Haverill arrived in Washington yesterday, but has not been
here yet. Is it because I am here? He has never seen me, and I feel
that he has never forgiven Frank for marrying me.
MRS. HAVERILL. Nonsense, my child; he did think the marriage was
imprudent, but he told me to do everything I could for you. If General
Haverill has not been to see either of us, since his arrival in
Washington, it is nothing that you need to worry your dear little head
about. How are you getting on with your son's wardrobe?
EDITH. Oh! Splendidly! Frankie isn't a baby any longer; he's a man,
now, and he has to wear a man's clothes. [_Holding up a little pair of
trousers, with maternal pride._] He's rather young to be dressed like
a man, but I want Frank to grow up as soon as possible. I long to
have him old enough to understand me when I repeat to him the words
in which General Haverill told the whole world how his father died!
[_Rising._] And yet, even in his official report to the Government, he
only honoured him as Lieutenant Bedloe. He has never forgiven his son
for the disgrace he brought upon his name.
MRS. HAVERILL. I know him so well--[_Rising._]--the unyielding pride,
that conquers even the deep tenderness of his nature. He can be
silent, though his own heart is breaking. [_Aside._] He can be silent,
too, though _my_ heart is breaking. [_Dropping her face in her hand._
EDITH. _Mother!_ [_Putting her arm about her._
_Enter_ JANNETTE.
JANNETTE. A letter for you, Madam.
MRS. HAVERILL. [_Taking note. Aside._] He has answered me. [_Opens and
reads; inclines her head to_ JANNETTE, _who goes out to hall. Aloud._]
General Haverill will be here this afternoon, Edith. [_Exit up the
stairs._
EDITH. There is something that she cannot confide to me, or to anyone.
General Haverill returned to Washington yesterday, and he has not been
here yet. He will be here to-day. I always tremble when I think of
meeting him.
GENERAL BUCKTHORN _appears in hall._
BUCKTHORN. Come right in; this way, Barket. Ah, Edith!
BARKET. [_Entering._] As I was saying, sur--just after the battle of
Sayder Creek began--
BUCKTHORN. [_To_ EDITH.] More good news! The war is, indeed, over,
now!
BARKET. Whin Colonel Wist rode to the front to mate his raytrating
rigiment--
BUCKTHORN. General Johnson has surrendered his army, also; and that,
of course, does end the war.
EDITH. I'm very glad that all the fighting is over.
BUCKTHORN. So am I; but my occupation, and old Barket's, too, is gone.
Always at work on new clothes for our little soldier?
EDITH. He's growing so, I can hardly make them fast enough for him.
But this is the time for his afternoon nap. I must go now, to see if
he is sleeping soundly.
BUCKTHORN. Our dear little mother! [_Tapping her chin._] I always
claim the privilege of my white hair, you know. [_She, puts up her
lips; he kisses her. She goes out._] The sweetest young widow I ever
saw! [BARKET _coughs._ BUCKTHORN _turns sharply;_ BARKET _salutes._]
Well! What the devil are you thinking about now?
BARKET. The ould time, sur. Yer honour used to claim the same
privilege for brown hair.
BUCKTHORN. You old rascal! What a memory you have! You were telling me
for the hundredth time about the battle of Cedar Creek; go on. I can
never hear it often enough. Kerchival West was a favourite of mine,
poor fellow!
BARKET. Just afther the battle of Sayder Creek began, when the Colonel
rode to the front to mate his raytrating rigiment--
BUCKTHORN. I'll tell Old Margery to bring in tea for both of us,
Barket.
BARKET. For both of us, sur?
BUCKTHORN. Yes; and later in the evening we'll have something else,
together. This is a great day for all of us. I'm not your commander
to-day, but your old comrade in arms--[_Laying his arm over_ BARKET'S
_shoulder._]--and I'm glad I don't have to pull myself up now every
time I forget my dignity. Ah! you and I will be laid away before long,
but we'll be together again in the next world, won't we, Barket?
BARKET. Wid yer honour's permission. [_Saluting._
BUCKTHORN. Ha--ha--ha! [_Laughing._] If we do meet there I'm certain
you'll salute me as your superior officer. There's old Margery, now.
[_Looking to door. Calls._] Margery! Tea for two!
MARGERY. [_Without._] The tay be waiting for ye, sur; and it be
boilin' over wid impatience.
BUCKTHORN. Bring up a chair, Barket. [_Sitting in arm-chair._
BARKET. [_Having placed table and drawing up a chair._] Do you know,
Gineral, I don't fale quite aisy in my moind. I'm not quite sure that
Margery will let us take our tay together. [_Sits down, doubtfully._
BUCKTHORN. I hadn't thought of that. I--[_Glancing right._]--I
hope she will, Barket. But, of course, if she won't--she's been
commander-in-chief of my household ever since Jenny was a baby.
BARKET. At Fort Duncan, in Texas.
BUCKTHORN. You and Old Margery never got along very well in those
days; but I thought you had made it all up; she nursed you through
your wound, last summer, and after the battle of Cedar Creek, also.
BARKET. Yis, sur, bliss her kind heart, she's been like a wife to me;
and that's the trouble. A man's wife is such an angel when he's ill
that he dreads to get well; good health is a misfortune to him. Auld
Margery and I have had anither misunderstanding.
BUCKTHORN. I'll do the best I can for both of us, Barket. You were
telling me about the battle of--
BARKET. Just afther the battle of Sayder Creek began, whin Colonel
Wist rode to the front to mate his raytrating rigiment--
_Enter_ OLD MARGERY, _tray, tea, &c. She stops abruptly, looking at_
BARKET. _He squirms in his chair._ BUCKTHORN _rises and stands with
his back to the mantel._ OLD MARGERY _moves to the table, arranges
things on it, glances at_ BARKET, _then at_ BUCKTHORN, _who looks up
at ceiling, rubbing his chin, &c._ OLD MARGERY _takes up one of the
cups, with saucer._
OLD MARGERY. I misunderstood yer order, sur. I see there's no one here
but yerself. [_Going right._
BUCKTHORN. Ah, Margery! [_She stops._] Barket tells me that there has
been a slight misunderstanding between you and him.
OLD MARGERY. Day before yisterday, the ould Hibernian dhrone had the
kitchen upside down, to show anither old milithary vagabone loike
himself how the battle of Sayder Creek was fought. He knocked the
crame pitcher into the basket of clane clothes, and overturned some
raspberry jam and the flat-irons into a pan of fresh eggs. There _has_
been a misunderstanding betwane us.
BUCKTHORN. I see there has. I suppose Barket was showing his friend
how Colonel Kerchival West rode forward to meet his regiment, when he
was already wounded dangerously.
OLD MARGERY. Bliss the poor, dear young man! He and I was always good
frinds, though he was somethin' of a devil in the kitchen himself,
whin he got there. [_Wiping her eye with one corner of her apron._]
And bliss the young Southern lady that was in love wid him, too.
[_Changing the cup and wiping the other eye with the corner of her
apron._] Nothing was iver heard of ayther of thim after that battle
was over, to this very day.
BUCKTHORN. Barket was at Kerchival's side when he rode to the front.
[OLD MARGERY _hesitates a moment, then moves to the table, sets down
the cup and marches out._ BUCKTHORN _sits in the arm-chair again,
pouring tea._] I could always find some way to get Old Margery to do
what I wanted her to do.
BARKET. You're a great man, Ginerel; we'd niver have conquered the
South widout such men.
BUCKTHORN. Now go on, Barket; you were interrupted.
BARKET. Just afther the battle of Sayder Creek began, whin--
_Enter_ JANNETTE _with card, which she hands to_ BUCKTHORN.
BUCKTHORN. [_Reading card._] Robert Ellingham! [_Rises._] I will go to
him. [_To_ JANNETTE.] Go upstairs and tell Madeline to come down.
JANNETTE. Yes, sir. [_Going._
BUCKTHORN. And, Jannette, simply say there is a caller; don't tell her
who is here. [_Exit_ JANNETTE _upstairs._ BUCKTHORN _follows her
out to hall._] Ellingham! My dear fellow! [_Extending his hand and
disappearing._
BARKET. Colonel Ellingham and Miss Madeline--lovers! That's the kind
o' volunteers the country nades now!
_Enter_ BUCKTHORN _and_ ELLINGHAM.
BUCKTHORN. [_As he enters._] We've been fighting four years to keep
you out of Washington, Colonel, but we are delighted to see you within
the lines, now.
ELLINGHAM. I am glad, indeed, General, to have so warm a welcome. But
can you tell me anything about my sister, Gertrude?
BUCKTHORN. About your sister? Why, can't you tell us? And have you
heard nothing of Kerchival West on your side of the line?
ELLINGHAM. All I can tell you is this: As soon as possible after our
surrender at Appomattox, I made my way to the Shenandoah Valley. Our
home there is utterly deserted. I have hurried down to Washington in
the hopes that I might learn something of you. There is no human being
about the old homestead; it is like a haunted house--empty, and dark,
and solitary. You do not even know where Gertrude is?
BUCKTHORN. We only know that Kerchival was not found among the dead of
his own regiment at Cedar Creek, though he fell among them during
the fight. The three girls searched the field for him, but he was
not there. As darkness came on, and they were returning to the house,
Gertrude suddenly seized the bridle of a stray horse, sprang upon its
back and rode away to the South, into the woods at the foot of Three
Top Mountain. The other two girls watched for her in vain. She did not
return, and we have heard nothing from her since.
ELLINGHAM. Poor girl! I understand what was in her thoughts, and she
was right. We captured fourteen hundred prisoners that day, although
we were defeated, and Kerchival must have been among them. Gertrude
rode away, alone, in the darkness, to find him. I shall return to the
South at once and learn where she now is.
JANNETTE _has re-entered, down the stairs._
JANNETTE. Miss Madeline will be down in a moment. [_Exit in hall._
BARKET. [_Aside._] That name wint through his chist like a rifle ball.
BUCKTHORN. Will you step into the drawing-room, Colonel? I will see
Madeline myself, first. She does not even know that you are living.
ELLINGHAM. I hardly dared asked for her. [_Passing; turns._] Is she
well?
BUCKTHORN. Yes; and happy--or soon will be.
ELLINGHAM. Peace, at last! [_Exit to apartment._ BUCKTHORN _closes
portières._
BUCKTHORN. I ought to prepare Madeline a little, Barket; you must help
me.
BARKET. Yis, sur, I will.
_Enter_ MADELINE _down the stairs._
MADELINE. Uncle! Jannette said you wished to see me; there is a
visitor here. Who is it?
BARKET. Colonel Robert Ellingham.
MADELINE. Ah! [_Staggering._
BUCKTHORN. [_Supporting her._] You infernal idiot! I'll put you in the
guard-house!
BARKET. You wanted me to help ye, Gineral.
MADELINE. Robert is alive--and here? [_Rising from his arms, she moves
to the portières, holds them aside, peeping in; gives a joyful start,
tosses aside the portières and runs through._
BUCKTHORN. Barket! There's nothing but that curtain between us and
Heaven.
BARKET. I don't like stayin' out o' Hivin, myself, sur. Gineral! I'll
kiss Ould Margery--if I die for it! [_Exit._
BUCKTHORN. Kiss Old Margery! I'll give him a soldier's funeral.
[_Enter_ JENNY _from hall, demurely._] Ah! Jenny, my dear! I have news
for you. Colonel Robert Ellingham is in the drawing-room.
JENNY. Oh! I am delighted. [_Starting._
BUCKTHORN. A-h-e-m!
JENNY. Oh!--exactly. I see. I have some news for _you,_ papa. Captain
Heartsease has arrived in Washington.
BUCKTHORN. Oh! My dear! I have often confessed to you how utterly
mistaken I was about that young man. He is a soldier--as good a
soldier as you are. I'll ask him to the house.
JENNY. [_Demurely._] He is here now.
BUCKTHORN. Now?
JENNY. He's been here an hour; in the library.
BUCKTHORN. Why! Barket and I were in the library fifteen minutes ago.
JENNY. Yes, sir. We were in the bay-window; the curtains were closed.
BUCKTHORN. Oh! exactly; I see. You may tell him he has my full
consent.
JENNY. He hasn't asked for it.
BUCKTHORN. Hasn't he? And you've been in the bay-window an hour? Well,
my darling--I was considered one of the best Indian fighters in the
old army, but it took me four years to propose to your mother. I'll go
and see the Captain. [_Exit to hall._
JENNY. I wonder if it will take Captain Heartsease four years to
propose to me. Before he left Washington, nearly two years ago, he
told everybody in the circle of my acquaintance, except me, that he
was in love with me. I'll be an old lady in caps before our engagement
commences. Poor, dear mother! The idea of a girl's waiting four years
for a chance to say "Yes." It's been on the tip of my tongue so often,
I'm afraid it'll pop out, at last, before he pops the question.
_Enter_ BUCKTHORN _and_ HEARTSEASE _from hall._
BUCKTHORN. Walk right in, Captain; this is the family room. You must
make yourself quite at home here.
HEARTSEASE. Thank you. [_Walking down._
BUCKTHORN. My dear! [_Apart to_ JENNY.] The very first thing he said
to me, after our greeting, was that he loved my daughter.
JENNY. Now he's told my father!
BUCKTHORN. He's on fire!
JENNY. Is he? [_Looking at_ HEARTSEASE, _who stands quietly stroking
his mustache._] Why doesn't he tell _me?_
BUCKTHORN. You may have to help him a little; your mother assisted
me. [_Turning up stage._] When you and Jenny finish your chat,
Captain--[_Lighting a cigar at the mantel._]--you must join me in the
smoking-room.
HEARTSEASE. I shall be delighted. By the way, General--I have been in
such a fever of excitement since I arrived at this house--
JENNY. [_Aside._] Fever? Chills!
HEARTSEASE. That I forgot it entirely. I have omitted a very important
and a very sad commission. I have brought with me the note-book of
Lieutenant Frank Bedloe--otherwise Haverill--in which Miss Gertrude
Ellingham wrote down his last message to his young wife.
JENNY. Have you seen Gertrude?
BUCKTHORN. [_Taking book._] How did this note-book come into your
possession?
HEARTSEASE. Miss Ellingham visited the prison in North Carolina where
I was detained. She was going from hospital to hospital, from prison
to prison, and from burial-place to burial-place, to find Colonel
Kerchival West, if living--or some record of his death.
BUCKTHORN. Another Evangeline! Searching for her lover through the
wilderness of this great war!
HEARTSEASE. I was about to be exchanged at the time, and she requested
me to bring this to her friends in Washington. She had not intended to
carry it away with her. I was not exchanged, as we then expected, but
I afterwards escaped from prison to General Sherman's army.
BUCKTHORN. I will carry this long-delayed message to the widowed young
mother. [_Exit._
JENNY. I remember so well, when poor Lieutenant Haverill took out the
note-book and asked Gertrude to write for him. He--he brought me a
message at the same time. [_Their eyes meet. He puts up his glasses.
She turns away, touching her eyes._
HEARTSEASE. I--I remember the circumstances you probably allude to;
that is--when he left my side--I--I gave him my--I mean your--lace
handkerchief.
JENNY. It is sacred to me!
HEARTSEASE. Y-e-s--I would say--is it?
JENNY. [_Wiping her eyes._] It was stained with the life-blood of a
hero!
HEARTSEASE. I must apologize to you for its condition. I hadn't any
chance to have it washed and ironed.
JENNY. [_Looking around at him, suddenly; then, aside._] What could
any girl do with a lover like that? [_Turning up stage._
HEARTSEASE. [_Aside._] She seems to remember that incident so
tenderly! My blood boils!
JENNY. Didn't you long to see your--your friends at home--when you
were in prison, Captain?
HEARTSEASE. Yes--especially--I longed especially, Miss Buckthorn, to
see--
JENNY. _Yes!--to see--_
HEARTSEASE. But there were lots of jolly fellows in the prison. [JENNY
_turns away._] We had a dramatic society, and a glee club, and an
orchestra. I was one of the orchestra. I had a banjo, with one string;
I played one tune on it, that I used to play on the piano with one
finger. But, Miss Buckthorn, I am a prisoner again, to-night--your
prisoner.
JENNY. [_Aside._] At last!
HEARTSEASE. I'll show you how that tune went. [_Turns to piano; sits._
JENNY. [_Aside._] Papa said I'd have to help him, but I don't see an
opening. [HEARTSEASE _plays part of an air with one finger; strikes
two or three wrong notes._
HEARTSEASE. There are two notes down there, somewhere, that I
never could get right. The fellows in prison used to dance while I
played--[_Playing._]--that is, the lame ones did; those that weren't
lame couldn't keep the time.
JENNY. You must have been in great danger, Captain, when you escaped
from prison.
HEARTSEASE. Y-e-s. I was badly frightened several times. One night
I came face to face, on the road, with a Confederate officer. It was
Captain Thornton.
JENNY. Oh! What did you do?
HEARTSEASE. I killed him. [_Very quietly, and trying the tune again
at once. Enter_ JANNETTE, _from in hall; she glances into the room
and goes up the stairs._] I used to skip those two notes on the banjo.
It's very nice for a soldier to come home from the war, and meet
those--I mean the one particular person--that he--you see, when a
soldier loves a woman, as--as--
JENNY. [_Aside._] As he loves me. [_Approaches him._
HEARTSEASE. As soldiers often do--[_Plays; she turns away, petulantly;
he plays the tune through correctly._] That's it!
JENNY. [_Aside._] I'm not going to be made love to by piece-meal,
like this, any longer. [_Aloud._] Captain Heartsease! Have you
anything in particular to say to me? [_He looks up._
HEARTSEASE. Y-e-s. [_Rising._
JENNY. Say it! You told my father, and all my friends, that you were
in love with me. Whom are you going to tell next?
HEARTSEASE. I _am_ in love with you.
JENNY. It was my turn.
HEARTSEASE. [_Going near to her._] Do you love me?
JENNY. [_Laying her head quietly on his breast._] I must take time to
consider.
HEARTSEASE. [_Quietly._] I assume that this means "Yes."
JENNY. It isn't the way a girl says "No."
HEARTSEASE. My darling!
JENNY. Why! His heart is beating as fast as mine is!
HEARTSEASE. [_Quietly._] I am frantic with joy. [_He kisses her. She
hides her face on his breast. Enter_ MRS. HAVERILL, _down-stairs,
followed by_ JANNETTE. MRS. HAVERILL _stops suddenly._ JANNETTE
_stands in the doorway._ HEARTSEASE _inclines his head to her, quietly
looking at her over_ JENNY.] I am delighted to see you, after so long
an absence; I trust that we shall meet more frequently hereafter.
JENNY. [_Looking at him._] Eh?
HEARTSEASE. [_Looking down at her._] I think, perhaps, it might be
as well for us to repair to another apartment, and continue our
interview, there!
JENNY. [_Dropping her head on his breast again._] This room is very
comfortable.
MRS. HAVERILL. Jenny, dear! [JENNY _starts up; looks from_ MRS.
HAVERILL _to_ HEARTSEASE.
JENNY. Constance! I--'Bout face! March! [_Turns and goes out._
MRS. HAVERILL. I am glad to see you again, Captain, and happy as well
as safe.
HEARTSEASE. Thank you, Madam. I am happy. If you will excuse me, I
will join--my father--in the smoking-room. [MRS. HAVERILL _inclines
her head, and_ HEARTSEASE _walks out._
MRS. HAVERILL. Jannette! You may ask General Haverill to come into
this room. [_Exit_ JANNETTE. MRS. HAVERILL _walks down, reading
a note._] "I have hesitated to come to you personally, as I have
hesitated to write to you. If I have been silent, it is because I
could not bring my hand to write what was in my mind and in my heart.
I do not know that I can trust my tongue to speak it, but I will
come."
_Enter_ HAVERILL _from hall; he stops._
HAVERILL. Constance!
MRS. HAVERILL. My husband! May I call you husband? After all these
months of separation, with your life in almost daily peril, and my
life--what? Only a weary longing for one loving word--and you are
silent.
HAVERILL. May I call you wife? I do not wish to speak that word except
with reverence. You have asked me to come to you. I am here. I will
be plain, direct and brief. Where is the portrait of yourself, which I
gave you, in Charleston, for my son?
MRS. HAVERILL. Your son is dead, sir; and my portrait lies upon his
breast, in the grave. [HAVERILL _takes the miniature from his pocket
and holds it towards her in his extended hand. She starts back._] He
gave it to you? And you ask me where it is?
HAVERILL. It might have lain in the grave of Kerchival West!
MRS. HAVERILL. Ah!
HAVERILL. Not in my son's. I found it upon _his_ breast. [_She turns
front, dazed._] Well! I am listening! It was not I that sought this
interview, Madam; and if you prefer to remain silent, I will go. You
know, now, why I have been silent so long.
MRS. HAVERILL. My only witnesses to the truth are both dead. I shall
remain silent. [_Turning towards him._] We stand before each other,
living, but not so happy as they. We are parted, forever. Even if you
should accept my unsupported word--if I could so far forget my pride
as to give it to you--suspicion would still hang between us. I
remain silent. [HAVERILL _looks at her, earnestly, for a moment; then
approaches her._
HAVERILL. I cannot look into your eyes and not see truth and loyalty
there. Constance!
MRS. HAVERILL. No, John! [_Checking him._] I will not accept your
blind faith!
HAVERILL. [_Looking down at the picture in his hand._] My faith is
blind; blind as my love! I do not wish to see! [_Enter_ EDITH. _She
stops; looks at_ HAVERILL. _He raises his head and looks at her._
EDITH. This is General Haverill? [_Dropping her eyes._] I am Edith,
sir.
HAVERILL. [_Gently._] My son's wife. [_Kisses her forehead._] You
shall take the place he once filled in my heart. His crime and his
disgrace are buried in a distant grave.
EDITH. And you have not forgiven him, even yet?
MRS. HAVERILL. Is there no atonement for poor Frank's sin--not even
his death? Can you only bury the wrong and forget the good?
HAVERILL. The good?
MRS. HAVERILL. Your own words to the Government, as his commander!
HAVERILL. What do you mean?
MRS. HAVERILL. "The victory of Cedar Creek would have been impossible
without the sacrifice of this young officer."
HAVERILL. My own words, yes--but--
EDITH. "His name must take its place, forever, in the roll of names
which his countrymen honour."
HAVERILL. Lieutenant Bedloe!
MRS. HAVERILL. Haverill! You did not know?
HAVERILL. My--son.
EDITH. You did not receive mother's letter?--after his death?
HAVERILL. My son! [_Sinking upon chair or ottoman._] I left him alone
in his grave, unknown; but my tears fell for him then, as they do now.
He died before I reached him.
EDITH. Father! [_Laying her hand gently on his shoulder._] You shall
see Frank's face again. His little son is lying asleep upstairs; and
when he wakes up, Frank's own eyes will look into yours. I have
just received his last message. I will read it to you. [_Note-book.
Reads._] "Tell our little son how his father died, not how he lived.
And tell her who filled my own mother's place so lovingly." [_She
looks at_ MRS. HAVERILL, _moves to her and hides her face in her
bosom._] My mother!
MRS. HAVERILL. Edith--my child! Frank loved us both.
EDITH. [_Reading._] "Father's portrait of her, which she gave to me in
Charleston--[HAVERILL _starts._]--helped me to be a better man."
HAVERILL. [_Rising to his feet._] Constance!
EDITH. [_Reading._] "It was taken from me in Richmond, and it is in
the possession of Captain Edward Thornton."
HAVERILL. One moment! Stop! Let me think! [EDITH _looks at him;
retires up stage._] Thornton was a prisoner--and to Kerchival West. A
despatch had been found upon him--he was searched! [_He moves to her
and takes both her hands in his own, bowing his head over them._] My
head is bowed in shame.
MRS. HAVERILL. Speak to me, John, as you used to speak! Tell me you
still love me!
HAVERILL. The--the words will come--but they are--choking me--now.
[_Presses her hand to his lips._
MRS. HAVERILL. We will think no more of the past, except of what
was bright in it. Frank's memory, and our own love, will be with us
always.
_Enter_ BUCKTHORN, _followed by_ HEARTSEASE.
BUCKTHORN. Haverill! You are back from the war, too. It begins to look
like peace in earnest.
HAVERILL. Yes. Peace and home. [_Shaking hands with him._ MRS.
HAVERILL _joins_ EDITH.
_Enter_ BARKET.
BARKET. Gineral! [BUCKTHORN _moves to him._ HAVERILL _joins_ MRS.
HAVERILL _and_ EDITH. BARKET _speaks apart, twisting one side of his
face._] I kissed her!
BUCKTHORN. Have you sent for a surgeon?
BARKET. I felt as if the inimy had surprised us agin, and Sheridan was
sixty miles away.
HAVERILL. This is old Sergeant Barket. [BARKET _salutes._] You were
the last man of us all that saw Colonel West.
BARKET. Just afther the battle of Sayder Creek began--whin Colonel
Wist rode to the front to mate his retreating rigiment--the byes
formed in line, at sight of him, to raysist the victorious inimy. It
was just at the brow of a hill--about there, sur--[_Pointing with
his cane._] and--here! [_He takes tray from table and sets it on the
carpet. Lays the slices of bread in a row._] That be the rigiment.
[_All interested._ MADELINE _and_ ELLINGHAM _enter, and look on._
BARKET _arranges the two cups and saucers in a row._] That be the
inimy's batthery, sur. [_Enter_ MARGERY. _She goes to the table; then
looks around, sharply, at_ BARKET.
MARGERY. Ye ould Hibernian dhrone! What are yez doin' wid the china on
the floor? You'll break it all!
BUCKTHORN. Ah--Margery! Barket is telling us where he last saw Colonel
Kerchival West.
MARGERY. The young Colonel! The tay-cups and saucers be's the inimy's
batthery? Yez may smash 'em, if ye loike!
BUCKTHORN. Go on, Barket. [JENNY _and_ HEARTSEASE _have entered as_
BARKET _proceeds; the whole party lean forward, intensely interested._
GERTRUDE _enters in hall, looks in, beckons out left._ KERCHIVAL
_follows. They move up stage, back of the rest and unseen, listening._
BARKET. Just as the rigiment was rayformed in line, and Colonel Wist
was out in front--widout any coat or hat, and wid only a shtick in his
hand--we heard cheers in the rear. Gineral Sheridan was coming! One
word to the men--and we swept over the batthery like a whirlwind!
[_Slashing his cane through the cups and saucers._
MARGERY. Hoo-roo!
BARKET. The attack on the lift flank was checked. But when we shtopped
to take breath, Colonel Wist wasn't wid us. [GERTRUDE _turns lovingly
to_ KERCHIVAL. _He places his arm about her._] Heaven knows where he
is now. Afther the battle was over, poor Miss Gertrude wint off by
hersilf into the wilderness to find him.
KERCHIVAL. My wife! You saved my life, at last! [_Embracing her._
BARKET. They'll niver come together in this world. I saw Miss
Gertrude, myself, ride away into the woods and disappear behind a
school-house on the battle-field, over there.
GERTRUDE. No, Barket--[_All start and look._]--it was the little
church; we were married there this morning!
CURTAIN.