Maj. No ; not if you're sick. You're in no con-
dition to take us over.

Gar. It's nothing. A man in my condition can-
not choose his course. (Hurriedly.) Come this
way, sir.

Maj. a strange man, Joe,

Evans. Yes. This way, uncle ; take care you
don't stumble and fall. (Major Gurley and Garland
enter the boat-house. Evans stops and moves back
quickly. Listening; a moaning cry of help within.)

Evans. He's blundered, curse him! If anyone
has heard that cry!

Ralph. (Within; starts and listens.) What's
that ; a cry for help! (Comes out on the the dock and
listens. The wind moans.) It was the moaning of
the wind. How calm and still it is here in the
moonlight. A few hours since and all the river's
front rumbled and roared with the fierce energy of
this human hive, swarming in search of gold ; but
everything is now as quiet as the old home used to
be on nights like this. If I could only stand
on the old porch to-night, and look in at the win-
dow, I fancy I should see him at his ledgers. If he
had only known her as she is. I was too rash and
headstrong. I should have waited till he learned
to love her too. All that is passed. He would not
speak to me if we stood face to face. His will is



42

made of iron, and his resentment runs on as sullen
and remorseless as the dark river at my feet.
{Wind moans.) How dismally the wind moans, as
if conscious of the crimes committed all about us,
and we unmindful of them. {Enters house. Gar-
land rushes from boat-house, dressed in Major Gurley's
clothing. Looks wildly back.)

Gar. No — no — go back — go back, I say ! Don't
look at me like that !

Evans. Stop! stop, man ! Are you mad? What
do you mean ? Hide yourself ; hide quickly.

Gar. It struggled up into the light and clutched
at me. Look there ! My God, look there ! Look
at that ghastly face !

Evans. He's gone stark mad ! There's nothing
there. Come, hide yourself.

Gar. You lie, you lie. You drove me on. See
— there — there — there. {Drags Evans to edge of
dock. Evans struggles to free himself is dragged to
his knees. Draivs pistol and fires. Ralph rushes out
of hut. Garland reels and falls into river. Ralph
seizes Evans. Nellie calls Ralph.

Ralph. My God! What's this? {Wrenches
revolver from Evans^ hand and stands over him.)
What have you done ?

{Enter Peters, Capitola and officers.)

Evans. Don't shoot me — don't shoot me, Ralph !
{Staggers tmvards door. Officers seize Ralph.)

Nbl. {Within.) Ralph!

Officer. What does this mean?

Evans. It means murder. It means — Heaven
help him — he has killed his father. {Cap shrieks.)

Ralph. What's this? What villainy is this. It's
false ! It's false ! Release me ! Let me go, I say !

Nel. {At door.) Ralph! Ralph! {Tableau.)

{Curtain.)

ACT m.

Time. — Six years later. — Spring of year. — Garden
of Mrs. Hunfs home.



43



Set. — A country door yard. — Apple trees, flower beds^
etc. — House at right with wide side porch, honey
suckle, maderia and other vines climbing over it. —
Veg I tables, etc., on porch. — Rustic seats under trees.
— Swing hanging from limb of large apple tree in
yard. — Rag mat on porch. — Bench on porch with
milk tins drying on it. [Enter Mrs. Hunt from the
house. Goes to the pump for a pail of water. — Enter
Peters from street.

Petees. Now my dear mother! Excuse me, Mrs.
Hunt, but if you only knew how my hungry soul
yearns to call you by the endearing name of
mother in-law, you would pardon the familiar-
ity — excuse me, but I must so far anticipate that
blissful relationship as to perform the duties of a
son in the matter of pumping.

Mrs. H. Oh, go way, Peters! You bother me
'nuff sight more'n you help. (Goes to pump.)

Peters. My dear Mrs. Hunt, your indifference
hurts me, it wounds me deeply. Whenever my
fancy paints the future as a summer sea with islands
of bliss and coral reefs of matrimonial felicity, you
are sure to float across my delighted vision like an
iceberg from the Arctic ocean, freezing and killing
everything green and beautiful about you. 1 repeat
it, you hurt me! You pain me, Mrs. Hunt!

Mrs. M. 'Pears to me you are mighty anxious to
freeze up and stay froze?

Peters. I do not fully grasp the import of your
classical diction.

Mrs. H. (PumpiuQ.) If I freeze you, why are
you so particular about my getting to be your
mother-in-law ?

Peters. Because, when jon are my mother-in-
law, your daughter will be my wife-in-law, and if
your wintry aspect freezes me, I am satisfied that
the sunshine of her smiles will thaw me out.
Mrs. H. Oh?

Peters. Oh, yes! I don't know whether I shall
be able to withstand a constant freezing and thaw-
ing out process, but I shall always live in hopes that
you will eventually melt. You are a little frosty



44

now, but I have no doubt you will sometime reach
the Indian summer of your existence and become a
comfort.

Mrs. H. Peters, if I get to be your mother-in-
law you will live in one everlasting snow squall.
{Pours water from jpail into 'pan of vegetables) Here!
If you are so anxious about doing something, take
this water in the house.

Peters. You are beginning to melt already. I
was about to say that I should not be surprised at
an occasional squall in family.

Mrs. H. {Sits on bench and prepares vegetables.)
Arn't you ashamed to talk like that to a woman of
my years?

Peters. [Going to siving.) Excuse me for disre-
garding your youth and experience, Mrs. Hunt.

Mrs. H. Oh, stop your noise I Peters, They'll
be back from church pretty soon, and you'll have to
help eat the wedding dinner. {Prepares Vegetables)

Peters. I hunger and thirst for a wedding din-
ner, at which I shall do the honors, Mrs. Hunt.
When shall I eat that dinner? Echo answers:
"When."

Mrs. H. When you stop acting like an idiot.

Peters. {Despondently) Then I shall die a single
man.

Mrs. H. No, you wont. You know 'nuff sight
more now than you used to. When do you want to
get married?

Peters. Now ! I yearn for a consumation of my
dreams just now.

Mrs. H. How does Capitola feel about it?

Peters. She yearns also. We both of us yearn.

Mrs. H. I suppose both of you will keep right at
it and not give me a minute's peace, 'till you get
her.

Peters. We — that is — I shall haunt you like a
specter until that supreme moment, mother.

Mrs. H. And what about me after that?

Peters. I will plant the kiss of fillial affection on
your brow, and welcome you cordially about once
in two years.



Mrs. H. With a shot gun?

Peters. Shouldn't be surprised if I did.

Mrs. H {Laughs.) I rather like you, young
man.

Peters. I know it, I feel it. Of course you do,
and as for me I am in love with the entire family,

Mrs. H. You can have her on one condition.

Peters. {Tragically.) Name it! Name it! For
heavens sake name it!

Mrs. H. That you don't make such a funeral of
it, as this wedding is to-day between Nellie and Mr.
Evans, Nellie, poor girl, wouldn't have it any
other wajT^, Capitola is her only attendant to the
church. She wanted to be married as quietly -as
possible. She don't love Evans, though I reckon
she does try to respect him. The fact is her heart's
buried in the grave with poor, young Ralph. She
loved him with all her soul, and that terrible crime
never made a bit of difference, poor thing.

Peters. Love him! Well I should think she did!
And as for him — Why after he was convicted and
sentenced to be hung, he never seemed to think or
care anything about himself, but worried and
mourned all the time for her. When I took him
the notice published in the paper that his wife
was dead,T never saw anything like it. The next
thing in the papers was the coroner's inquest and
certificate of his death by suicide. It was absolutely
and unconditionally awful. !

Mrs. H. I never could understand how a report
of her death got into the newspapers.

Peters. You are a young and unsophisticated
denizen of the rural districts, Mrs. Hunt, or you
would understand that it is possible for anything to
get into the papers.

Mrs. H. Of course she was terrible sick, and just
after little Ralph was born we thought she was
dying.

Peters. That's the secret of it- She was the wife
of a noted character. Some enterprising reporter
heard she wasn't expected to live, and anticipated
the event for a scoop.



46

Mrs. H. For a what?

Peters. A scoop. To make my remark intelli-
gible to your rustic intellect — for a triumph of
reportorial enterprise.

Mrs. H. Oh!

Peters. Certainly, certainly. You get it exactly.
That piece of enterprise doubtless drove him to
suicide.

Mrs. H. And satisfied her, when she came to
think it over, that he was crazy, and actually killed
his father in a fit of insanity.

Peters. That's the defense, Graball and Want-
more wanted to make, but he wouldn't let them.
He said the man killed wasn't his father, and that
Evans did it. Nobody could save him on that plea.
There was the quarrel between Ralph and his
father, and there were Ralph's threats ; there
was the body found, badly disfigured, but with
all of Major Gurley's papers and jewelry on it.
There was Evans down and Ralph standing over
him with a pistol ; Evans' positive testimony and
no motive for his killing his uncle^ — and I must do
him the justice to say he was a most unwilling
witness, and after the body was recovered and
identified he did everything to shield Ralph.

Mrs. H. And he has done everything he possibly
could do for Nellie and everyone she likes ever
since. You know she was sick and out of her head
for a long time, and never saw Ralph again after
that awful night, but for a spell she couldn't believe
a word against him, and she wouldn't let Evans see
her either, but she finally got to looking at it as the
rest of us did and felt sorry for Evans, but do you
know if it wasn't for the little boy, and Evans being
able to do so well by him, I don't believe she'd ever
consented to this wedding to-day? She used to tell
me if she could only have seen Ralph before he died
she would feel better. I believe if she'd seen him
alone, and he'd told her what he told the lawyers,
she'd believe him yet.

Peters. I haven't the faintest shadow of a doubt
on that subject. If a woman can get the man



47

she loves alone, and get him to tell her something
that she wants to believe, she^l do it in the face of
testimony that would hang innocence. Did it ever
dawn on your intellect that Evans has worked his
case for the last six years for all that is in it?

Mrs. H. Look here, young man, what do you
mean?

Peters. Simply this. He has overcome her
abhorrence of him through her affections. Didn't
he get solid with little Ralph by buying him every
plaything known to the trade ?

Mrs. H. Peters!

Petees. Didn't he get solid with Capitola by
telling her what a profoundly wise young man I am ?'

Mrs. H. Peters!!

Peters, Didn't he get solid with you by making
you a present of this place?

Mrs. H. Peters!!!

Peters. And didn't he get solid with me by
employing me to do nothing and paying me six
prices for it?

Mrs. H. Oh!

Peters. Oh, Peters! Mrs. Hunt, do you know if
Capitola had only told them that night, when she
first went home, that the old gentleman was repent-
ant, that crime would never have been committed?

Mrs. H. Yes, I do. That's just the way with
her. She wanted to be smart and surprise 'em
Say, young man, you'd better let her go. If you
marry her she'll make it very warm for you, I've
lived with her and I know.

Peters. I am' willing to take the chances. I
expect I'll have an awful time, but excuse me, Mrs.
Hunt, 1 must remonstrate against the use of any
disparaging remarks, touching the admirability of
my affianced wife.

Mrs. H. Peters, that girl is my daughter !

Peters. Mrs. Hunt, that girl is to be my wife !

Mrs. H. She ain't yours yet, and she won't be if
I set my foot down!

Pkters. {Tragically.) Hold it up! In heaven's
name hold it up then.



48

Mrs. H. Hold what up?

Peters. Your foot. Don't set it down or you
will crush my heart and desolate my soul with your
number nineteen gaiters.

Mrs. H. Young man! [Turns away and laughs.)

Peters. Say! Don't you think we'd better drop

this sort of thing until after we're married ? It — it

ain't regular. This mother-in-law business at this

time is — is too previous.

Mrs. H. Oh, Lord! (Laughs and starts toivard
house.)

Peters. Hello! Here comes that youngster,
Ralph.

Mrs.H. Now don't muss him all up! Nellie
left him with me and I want him kept clean until
after dinner, at least. (Exit into house.)
[Enter little Balph.)
Peters. Hello, you young rascal. Come here.
Little Ralph. Hello! What did you come here
for again? To see Aunt Capitola?

Petees. You are a very precocious youth. You
are wise beyond your years. No, sir, I came
expressly to see you.
L. R. Well, you musn't touch me.
Peters. Why not?

L. R. Cause Grandma Hunt says you'll muss me,
all up, and she wants to keep me clean.
Peters. Grandma said so?

L. R. And aunt Capitola told me not to get near
you, cause you might set me on fire.
Peters. What did she say?
L. R. She said that way off, ever so far, there is
a big ocean, and that they have great high towers
with lights in them and they call 'em light houses.
Peters. [Knoivingly.) Ha! Ha! What else did
she say?

L. R. She said they used your head for a light.
Peters. [Knoivingly.) She did — did she?
L. R. [Nods his head.)
Peters. What did you say?
L. R. I asked her if she wasn't afraid to get too
close to the fire.



49

Peters. Ha! Ha! Ha! Did you — did you? Smart
boy — smart boy. What did she say, then?

L. R. She just laughed, that's all she said.

Petees. Will you just tell her I say that light
house needs a keeper? That the — the {strokes his
head) wick is fading out for want of attention ? Will
you?

L, R. [Nods his head.)

Petees. That's right. What you got there?

L. R. Base ball. {Takes little Ralph ap and
goes to swing.)

Petees. Tou can't play ball can you?

L. R. {Nods his head.)

Petees, How high can you throw it?

L. R. Ever so high. Aunt Cap can throw higher
than I can though.

Petees. Can she? How high can she throw?

L. R. Way up to the clouds.

Petees. I believe you. She has lifted me up to
the clouds and kept me there for six years. Throw
it up, Ralphy, Lets try a fly. {Gets down from stving.)

L. R. I'm a curve pitcher. {Throws and hits
Peters in stomach.) Ha! ha! ha! You can't catch it.
I'll tell Aunt Capitola that you ain't any good.

Petees. Excuse me Ralph, you mustn't.

L. R. Yes, I will.

Petees. Think of it, think of it, Ralphy. Oh,
don't.

L. R. I won't if you'll sing to me.

Petees. Sing to you? Of course I will. What
shall I sing, Ralphy?

L. R. {Brags out rocking horse and gets on it) You
must get on behind. You ain't big enough to ride
ahead.

Petees. I'm not eh?

L. R. No, you're not. Now you must sing about
a black horse. {They rock.)

Petees. {Sings.)

Hide a white horse to Banbury Cross,

To see an old woman ride on a white horse.

L. R. Yo.u don't sing good. Grandma Hunt says
you can't sing anyway.



50

Peters. Grandma says so?

L. R. {Nods his head.)

Peters. Say, Ralphy, 111 sing you a new song, if
you'll learn it and singit to Grandma Hunt. Will
you?

L. R. {Nods his head.)

Peters. Will you? Now just listen sharp.
{Sings.)

HIS MOTHEK-IN-LAW.

When a man falls in love and gets married,

And dreams of true bliss without flaw;
From his dreams he awakens full sudden,

When he hears from his mamma-in-law.
His mamma, his dear, darling mamma,

His mamma, his mamma-in-law.

If he dreams of a life full of honey,

Undisturbed by a quarrel or jaw;
He'll find he must drink of the wormwood,

When he hears from his mamma-in-law.
His mamma, his dear darling mamma,

His mama, his mamma-in-law.

Though his wife be as loving as Venus,

As constant as man ever saw,
She'll become as a fury incarnate.

When she hears from his mamma-in-law.
His mama, his dear darling mamma.

His mamma, his mamma-in-law.

Mrs. H. {Within) Ralphy! Ralph!

Peters Do you hear that Ralph ? You'd better
skip in. Come lets run a race.

L. R. I can beat you.

Peters. Excuse me, you little boaster. No you
cannot. I will try you once. Now! one ! two ! three !
go! {Feters7^uns him off clapping his hands, etc.)
{Enter Balph GtirJey disguised.)

Ralph. It almost seems to me that I have
awakened from the slumber of a drowsy summer
afternoon to find the horror and despair of all these
weary years since I escaped from prison are but a
frightful dream. To find myself the same Ralph
Gurley of old days, and not a felon doomed to
death for a crime so hideous that the lips of inno-
cence tremble to speak it. I could almost swear
the leaves on the old maples are the same that
hushed their whispering to catch her answer, when



51

1 told her of my love, and then nodded and gos-
sipped at my hardihood so boisterously that they
waked the nesting robins into song, I almost fancy
I am waiting for her now to meet me in the garden
as of old, and that I soon shall hear her voice call-
ing my name again, so few the changes wrought
on these surroundings in years that seem to me,
eternities of time. I could persuade myself I have
but dreamed, were it not for the dull pain at my
heart, and the sickening dread I feel at the sight of
each familiar face. Heaven help me when the
hands of all the world, who knew me when the
awful sentence of the law fell on my head are turned
against mel There's not an honest hand that
would not shrink from contact with this hand of
mine were I to speak my name. And why? Because
the goddess, w^ho holds the scales of justice, is blind
and sees not. Yes, yes, there was a hand that
never trembled in my clasp save with the thrill of
love— but that gentle hand is mute and motionless
in death, and crumbling into dust. (Invocation.)
Oh, Grod! Thou great, omnipotent, eternalJudge of
ail! Thou, whose eyes are never blinded, and whose
just decrees crush not the innocent, judge me aright.
I do not fear Thy summons, but when it comes, oh,
be it Thy decree that calls me hence. Guide and
protect me from a felon's death. {Passes hand- over
eyes.) It was to kneel beside her grave— to call her
name— to pillow my acbing head upon the grass
and flowers above her dust and tell them I am
innocent, that brought me back again.
[Enter Little Balpk)
Little Ralph. {Looks at him.) Have you seen

my ball?

Ralph. {Starting aside.) A little child. He
cannot know me. {Aloud.) I haven't seen your
ball my little man. Won't you come bere to me?

L. R I haven't time. I want to find my ball.

Ralph. I'll help you find it. Ah! What's this?
{Hands him hall.) Can you play ball?

L.R. Yes.



52

Ralph. Won't you come and see me? Come,
won't you?

L. R. {Crosses over and Ealph takes him in his
arms.

Ralph. Do you live here?

L. R. Yea, I always did live here. {Takes top
from pocket and winds string.

Ralph. Whose boy are you?

L. R. I ain't your little boy, am I?

Ralph. No! But whose boy are you?

L. R. Grandma Hunt's boy.

Ralph. {Aside) She still lives here.

L. R. I call her grandma, but she aint though.

Ralph. No?

L. R. My papa died a long time ago, before I
was born, mamma says, but she never tells me any-
thing about him. I'm going to have a new papa
to-day though. He gives me lots of things, but I
don't like him very much. {Spins top.) See it spin!
See it spin ! Say, why don't you marry my mamma,
then you'd be my papa? Wouldn't that be funny?
Did you ever have a wife ?

Ralph. Yes.

L. R. Where is she?

Ralph. She is dead.

L. R. Oh, thats too bad! {Tosses up ball and
catches it.) They bury dead folks in the ground
don't they? I wouldn't like to be buried in the
ground, cause I couldn't breathe then.

Ralph. Better that than a living death like

mine.

L. R. Say, what's your name?

Ralph. {Aside.) A question 1 dare not answer.
{Aloud.) When I was a little boy like you, they
called me Ralph.

L. R. Why ain't that funny — that's my name.

Ralph. What! No! No! What is your mamma's
name.

L. R. I call her mamma, but grandma Hunt and
aunt Capitola call her Nellie.

Ralph. {Starts.) My G-od ! What's this ? Can
it be! Oh heaven! Can it be that I have been
deceived!



53

L. R. Vm afraid of you wheo you do like that
Ralph. {Draivs him to him.) No ! No ! Don't
be afraid of me. Tell me won't you? What is her
name? What is it besides Nellie?

L. R. You want to know both her names?

Ralph. Yes, yes. Tell me both her names.

L. R. Aunt Capitola says when she is married
to-day her name will be Evans. It won't be Gur-
ley any more.

Ralph. Gurley? My wife! My God can this
be true? I read the published notice of her death
with my own eyes — read it in the public prints
before I escaped from prison. It was not so !
She lives and I shall see her. She will go with me
— and my child! But no! no! His wife! She has
forgotten me and would turn against me ! My God,
his wife — his wife ! Divorced from me and married
to him — to him whose crime and perjury robbed
me of home, wife, honor, friends — her lips, that I
have pressed, poisoned with his loathsome kisses '
She — my wife — locked in his embrace! Oh! no!
no ! Oh heaven, this is too much — too hard to
bear! {Throws himself on seat and buries his face
in his hands.)

L. R. I'm sorry, if I made you cry.

Ralph. Oh, my child, my innocent child! I
must think! I must have time to think! Come,
Come ! Walk with me a little way won't you? I'll
feel better then. {Little Ralph hesitates.) Don't
be afraid. I wouldn't hurt you for all the world
my child! Come. Won't you go?

L. R. I ain't a bit afraid.

Ralph. {Leading him off.) His wife — his wife.
{Exit, leading Little Ralph.)

{Enter Capitola laughing, followed by Peters.)

Peters. Capitola, you are — you are unkind. You
will excuse me for the remark. You will — I know
you will — but you are inhuman.

Cap. What do you want to bother me all the
time for? Why don't you let me alone?

Peters. I can't, and you are inhuman to compel
me to let you alone. I don't like it, you wound me



54

by devoting all your time to a woman that ought
to be happy.

Cap. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, you're
jealous of a woman.

Petbes. 1 am.

Cap. Ashamed?

Peters. No, jealous. And why shouldn't I be?
For one entire week I have been deprived —
absolutely and unqualifiedly deprived of your
society. I have pined for it as the drooping violet
pines for the crystal dew drop. I came here
expecting to bask in the sunshine of your presence,
but find it overcast by a cloud in the shape of a
woman. I don't like it. On the word of a lawyer it
lacerates my feelings.

Cap. She ain't happy one bit.

Peters. Well, she ought to be. If I had just got
married, I should feel that I had been taken up in a
cyclone and dropped over the walls of a paradise
into unalloyed felicity, Capitola.

Cap. Oh ! You'd feel awful funny, wouldn't you?
Well she don't. Just stop and think of it Rufus.
It's the same church where she and poor Ealph
were married, and she will never love Evans as she
did him. Oh ! It just broke my heart to see how
she looked. ( Weeps.)

Peters. What did she marry him for, if she knew
it was going to cause a freshet? There was no law
to compel her to marry him.

Cap. I know it, but then he's been so consider-
ate of her friends, and they wanted her to, and
he's promised to do so much for her child, take it
all in all, she couldn't help respecting him, and
she's finally married him. Its all over, but she
don't look a bit as a bride should. You'll have to
let me go now. I can't stop any longer. I'll come
back after a while.

Peters. Capitola! Cap! I've got something here
for you that I've carried around and been burdened
with for a week. Come here, I want to give it
to you. I've come near losing it on several occasions
but I kept it for you.



(Kisses her.



{They kiss.)



Cap. (Coming back.) Oh, what is it?
Petees. One little kiss at parting. (Kisses her.
They sing.)

ONE LITTLE KISS AT PARTING.
One little kiss at parting,

That thrilled me and filled me with bliss.
You kissed me before when we parted,

You kissed me, my darling like this.

Chorus.
You kissed me — You kissed me my darling.

How was it you kissed me I wist;
Oh, yes! I distinctly remember,

You kissed me, my darling like this.

I remember we stood in the gloaming.

From the river up rose the gray mist;
Your eyes were as soft as the twilight,

That fell from the skies when we kissed.
Cho.—

Peters. This is delightful, Capitola.

Cap. Oh! Ton horrid man! (Chases him off .)