Scene——same as in act I. Table as before. Arm-chair R. Sewing-chair L. Arm-chair a little back of mantel. Flat as before. Entrance same. Flower-stand ditto. Nancy discovered dusting table with a long-handled feather duster.

Nancy. It’s most time to hear from Mr. Manning. Two days since we’ve had a letter. Queer freak that was of his’n, turning Mr. Marcus Graves out of doors, and all at once starting off west to bring him back. (Dusts at back.) Couldn’t have been because Miss Bess was pining away, because she isn’t. Her appetite is good; and, when love doesn’t affect that, there’s no use in worrying. (Dusts piano.) She’s just as happy all day riding about with Matt Winsor as she was with the other. And what a change in him. Came here, six months ago, a drunken tramp; and now he’s as spruce and clean and shiney as our copper boiler,——and so jolly and pleasant, too. And so eager to help, one can’t help liking him. I’m sure Miss Bess does. (Dusts at mantel.) Look out, Mr. Graves; I wouldn’t give much for your chance three months from now, if you leave the field to the tramp.

(Enter C., May, in apron and gloves, a trowel in her hand; followed by Simon, who carries a flower-pot containing a geranium. He keeps his back to Nancy.)

May. You may place that geranium on the flower-stand. (Simon goes to stand and busies himself there.) That’s all I shall need at present. Thank you. Anybody been here, Nancy?

Nancy. No marm. Mr. Manning hasn’t come yet.

May. You are mistaken, Nancy; had I meant him, I should not have said anybody, for he is everybody to me. Ha! ha!

Nancy. Well, then, there hasn’t been nobody here.

May. That’s better, Nancy. I’ll run and get rid of my apron and gloves, for fear somebody might happen in.

(Exit door L.)

Nancy. Poor thing! She’s just as anxious to hear from her husband as she can be. I know the symptoms. There’s that good-for-nothing Simon Stone. I’ve not seen him since he took to the candy business; but I’d just give all my old shoes to hear the sound of his voice once more.

Simon (sneezing very loud). Ah-chah!

Nancy (R. starting.) Good gracious! It’s that new gardener come to-day. If he sneezes like that among his flowers, he’ll have everything up by the roots. Look here, sir, that won’t do!

Simon (turning round). Why not, Nancy, is it washing-day?

Nancy. Mercy! It’s Simon Stone!

Simon. It is, Nancy. Your Simon. Come to my arms. (Advances with arms outstretched.)

Nancy (thrusts the duster straight out before her. Simon puts his face among the feathers). Hands off!

Simon (spits and sputters). Phew! Pooh! Nancy, do you want to strangle me?

Nancy. I don’t mean you shall strangle me. What are you doing here?

Simon. Humbly, but earnestly, I trust, about my business.

Nancy. The candy business?

Simon. No, Nancy; the saccharine and treacle elements have been eliminated from my existence.

Nancy. What’s the meaning of that outlandish stuff? Can’t you speak English?

Simon. Yes; I’ve cut the sugar and molasses. In that line I burned to distinguish myself, but I burnt too much candy in trying to do it. So my employer requested me to cut stick.

Nancy. Sticks of candy?

Simon. No, no, myself——leave, varmouse.

Nancy. Oh! you were discharged.

Simon. Yes; I went off and became a policeman.

Nancy. A policeman! Simon, I always told you you would come to some bad end!

Simon. Well, the end of my career, in that line, was rather bad. Ah! but Nancy, you should have seen me in my uniform, brass buttons, and shield. You would have been proud of me, had you seen me on my beat with my billy.

Nancy. Billy who?

Simon. Ignorant female! My weapon of defence; the stick with which I terrified old apple-women and young news-boys.

Nancy. Why didn’t you show yourself? I don’t think you needed any other stick to frighten them.

Simon. Nancy, I was a hero on parade; but when it came to stepping into a row, I must say I felt more like knocking under than knocking over. In fact, my conscience became very tender on that point, one night, on having my billy taken away from me by a burly butcher, and being impressed, yes, several times impressed, with its hardness as he whacked me over the head with it. The situation struck me so forcibly, to say nothing of the billy, I quietly resigned my office, and retired to the humble but more healthy walks of life.

Nancy. Well, Mr. Stone, what next?

Simon. Mr. Stone! Nancy, don’t be hard on me; call me Simon, pure Simon, simple Simon. Do! O Nancy! you are my life, my love! Do come to my arms! (Advances with arms extended.)

Nancy (advances duster as before). Stand back! I prefer my own arms!

Simon (spits and sputters). Ah-choh! You’ll smother me with dust!

Nancy. Then behave yourself. Go on with your next occupation.

Simon. It is that honorable profession in which our first great ancestor won renown.

Nancy. By sticking to it,——which you will never do.

Simon. And yet, for love of you, cruel Nancy, I’ve sought this lowly occupation. The Lady of Lyons inspired me.

Nancy. Who’s she? One of the candy-girls?

Simon. Candy-girls? Nancy, have you forgotten the play?

Nancy. Oh! she was the young woman in spangles, that went in among the lions at the menagerie. Pretty lady she was.

Simon. Nancy, I blush for you.

Nancy. Well, I blushed for her. She had no chance herself, with such daubs on her face.

Simon. Nancy, you’re wrong. “The Lady of Lyons” is a play in which a gardener, Claude——somebody, falls in love with a beautiful lady. I went to see it, Nancy; and the way that young feller made love was amazing. You’d never believe he knew anything about rutabagas and cabbages. It give me an idea, Nancy. Says I, Simon, woo Nancy in that particular metre when you meet her, and victory is yours. (Strikes an attitude.) “Nancy, I mean Pauline, bright angels have fallen ere thy time——”

Nancy. What! you saucy scamp! (Chasing him round table, beating him with brush.)

Simon. Stop! Don’t! Quit! Nancy, that’s what the feller said in the play——Claude, you know.

Nancy. Don’t you ever use such language as that to me, if you do I’ll scald you.

Simon. Now don’t let you and I get into hot water because we are under the same roof. You shall have the prettiest flowers, Nancy, in the garden, if you’ll only smile upon me. O Nancy! (Strikes attitude.) “If thou wouldst have me paint the home——”

Nancy. Paint! are you going to be a painter now?

Simon. No, Nancy, that’s what Claude said.

Nancy. Bother Claude! stick to your gardening. Do that for six months, Simon, and I’ll marry you.

Simon. Will you, though? then I’ll stick to it forever. Nancy, seal the bargain with a kiss. (Advances.)

Nancy (presenting brush as before). Some other time.

Simon (shaking his head, and walking off L. without touching brush). Thou dust not tempt me.

Nancy. Now, Simon, quit your nonsense and tell me, where’s Marcus Graves?

Simon. The young man has gone West.

Nancy. And you know nothing about him?

Simon. Haven’t heard a word from him. By the by, Nancy, who’s the gent that sticks so close to Miss Bessie?

Nancy. You’d never guess, Simon; that’s the very identical tramp that stopped here six months ago,——the very day you called——

Simon. Yes, washing-day. Well, Nancy, you must have given him a scrubbing. It seems to me he had something to do with Marc’s sudden departure.

Nancy. Everything. He denounced him as a defaulter; and, on his account, Mr. Manning turned Marcus Graves out of his house.

Simon. Indeed!

Nancy. Yes. You see he was Mr. Manning’s comrade in the war! and he thinks the world of him.

Simon. And he accused Marc, the noblest fellow in the world. I’d like to get even with him for that. Is he married?

Nancy. No; but I shouldn’t wonder if he and Miss Bessie made a match of it.

Simon. Poor Marc! What’s the fellow’s name?

Nancy. Matt Winsor.

Simon. Matt! Matt! Stop a moment! (Takes memorandum book from his pocket, and turns the leaves rapidly.) H. I. J. K. L. M. Here it is——Matt Winsor. Ha! ha! ho! ho! He’s mine! He’s mine!

Nancy. And what’s all that, Simon?

Simon (strikes book). That, Nancy, is my savings bank. Little bits of information that I picked up as a policeman, and preserved for future use. Nancy, look at me! I’m going to astonish you. So the tramp’s sweet on Miss Bessie, is he? Nancy, I’ll astonish him. Ay, the whole world shall be astonished. (Strikes attitude, and spouts.)

“And thou, Pauline, so wildly loved, so guiltily betrayed——all is not lost. If I live, the name of him thou hast once loved shall not be dishonored; if I die amidst the carnage and the roar of battle, my soul shall fly back to thee.” (Approaches her as before.)

Nancy (advances brush as before; he runs upon it). What are you talking about?

Simon (sputtering.) Pooh! Pah! That’s what he said,——Claude, you know.

Nancy. Hang Claude!

Simon. Hush! (Looks around.) Nancy, can you keep a secret?

Nancy. Try me.

Simon. Without opening your lips?

Nancy. Try me.

Simon (throws his arm about her, prisoning her arms.) There, keep that, Nancy. (Kisses her, and runs up C.)

Nancy (fiercely). You horrid wretch! (Chases him up to door C. beating him with brush. He exits C.)

Nancy (coming down wiping her mouth). Well, this is a new business to him, and I hope he’ll stick to it.

(Exit I. E. R. Enter May Door L.)

May. What can keep Bess so long? She went off riding with Matt two hours ago. She seems very fond of him. (Goes up to door, looks off, and returns C.) I don’t like that. For Roy’s sake I have endeavored to make this man’s stay with us pleasant, and though I can never forget his rough introduction, I have no reason to complain of his conduct since. He is gentle and obliging, has not tasted a drop of liquor since that day, and in every way shown himself to be at heart a gentleman. (Sits in chair R. of table.) And yet I have some good reasons for complaint. He claims so much of Roy’s time. The hours he spent with me here are now given to Matt, smoking in the garden, fighting their battles over again, I dare say. I’m afraid I’m a little jealous of that; and then his fondness for Bess, and her fondness for him. Ah! there’s grave cause for anxiety there. Roy laughs at me when I speak of it; but suppose they should fall in love with each other? Roy says he’s much older than she. He forgets there is almost as much difference in our ages as there is in theirs. I don’t like it. I believe Roy would be pleased to have them marry; but not I. No! no! Oh, if Marcus Graves would only return!

Bess (outside). Ha! ha! ha! fairly beaten. Victory, victory (runs in C. down R.). Oh, May! such a glorious victory. I’ve distanced the bold cavalryman on a clear stretch of five miles. Ha! ha! ha!

(Enter Matt. C.)

Matt. Cleverly done, little one. I tried my best, but for once, you have fairly beaten me. Ah, Roy’s wife,——the little one is a capital horseman. If ever I go to war again she shall be enlisted in the same company.

Bess. Not I. There’s better company at home. Only think of it; Roger beat Rollo, fairly outstripped him. He never did such a thing before.

Matt. The gallant fellow knew the soft caress of a pretty little hand, would reward his efforts. Who wouldn’t do his best for that?

May. And the other gallant fellow was too polite to snatch victory from those pretty hands.

Matt. No, no. No favor was shown.

Bess. Not a bit. You should have heard our cavalryman shout, and seen him ply the whip. Mercy! I thought a troop of horse was coming down upon me.

Matt. Yes, I was a little noisy I confess. For a moment the old feeling was upon me. The swift pace, made my blood whirl. I saw before me not you, brave little one, but the enemy, in line of battle; the roars of cannon filled my ears, the smoke of battle my nostrils. The old cry came to my lips. Down on them! Death to the foe! Charge. (Goes R.)

Bess (comes to C.). Goodness, gracious! what a noise.

Matt. I beg your pardon; I hope I didn’t swear.

Bess. Make your mind easy, with the discharge of that terrific “charge;” there could be need for nothing more explosive.

Matt. Ah, well, it’s hard for a dog to forget his old tricks. I wish I could mine. I’m a rough fellow at the best. It’s a new life for me, this quiet home, you so kind and friendly, Roy’s friendship,——No, no; that’s not new. Heaven bless him: he’s the same old comrade of the battle days. I know I must be in the way here.

Bess. You are the best old fellow in the world (gives hands), and I love you dearly.

Matt. Love me?

Bess. As if you were my own brother. There sir, there’s a confession: make the most of it.

Matt. I wish I deserved it, little one; but it makes me (wiping eyes) very——that is——its——too much. (Aside.) Confound it, I shall blubber (Aloud.) Any news of Roy, Mrs. May?

May. No: I hoped you might have been to the office.

Matt. To be sure, and I galloping after this young Will-o’-the-Wisp. Oh, it’s shameful, but I’ll go at once. If we only have Roy back what a jolly day this will be. You shan’t wait long, Roy’s wife. Good-bye little one. (Goes out C.)

Bess (goes R.). I challenge you to another race, to-morrow morning.

Matt (turns). I accept.

Bess. Five miles.

Matt. A straight course.

Bess. Mind, no favor.

Matt. All right. Shake hands on it.

Bess (gives hand). There you have it. Now to the Post Office,——charge.

Matt. Ay, charge for liberty, or——

Bess. A letter. Don’t forget the letter.

Matt. All right, little one: I’m off. (Exit.)

Bess. Isn’t he splendid, May? I never saw a man I liked so well.

May. Ah! have you forgotten Marcus Graves, Bess?

Bess. Eh? Hasn’t he forgotten me?

May. I think not. At any time we may have news of him. You know Roy is now seeking him, for your sake.

Bess. He’s very kind. (Aside.) Now what’s the matter with her, I wonder?

May. And this man, Matt Winsor, caused his dismissal.

Bess. Poor fellow. He didn’t mean any harm. And I’m sure it is for the best.

May. Suppose he should never return?

Bess. Well, then, I should try and make the best of it.

May. Bess, do you know this man loves you?

Bess. Marcus Graves? well, he ought to.

May. No, this man, Matt Winsor.

Bess. (Aside.) Ah! the cat’s out of the bag. (Aloud.) Good gracious! Has he told you so?

May. No, but I read it in every glance at his eye, every flush of his cheek. Oh! Bess, Bess, you must not encourage this.

Bess. Encourage,——I——well I never. Didn’t I tell him I loved him as a brother.

May. Suppose he should some day tell you he adored you?

Bess. ’Twould be just like him. Soldiers adore, Civilians love. I prefer adoration, its a longer word, and of course contains more of the language of love.

May. Suppose he should ask you to marry him?

Bess. Suppose, suppose anything you like. (Cross to door L.). I’m going to change my dress.

May. And you withhold from me your confidence, Bess, Bess, this is not right.

Bess. May, don’t lecture me. Do let me enjoy myself, ’twill be time to warn when the grub brother turns into the butterfly lover. (Aside.) She dares to doubt my love for Marcus. I’ll plague her well for that.

(Exit door L.)

May (rising). ’Tis as I feared, she is learning to love this man; this tramp, who, in some unaccountable manner, fascinates the whole household. Roy delights in his company. Bess is happy at his side; even Nancy, the man hater, almost worships him, while I feel magnetized by his presence; and yet he robs me of my husband’s society. But he must not win my Bess, there’s too much at stake, an accident might rouse the slumbering curse of his former life, and then what a fate would be hers. Oh, no, she must be saved from that, though I make an enemy of my husband’s comrade. But how? (Sits R. of table.) How?

(Enter Simon C.)

Simon. I beg your pardon.

May. Well what is it; anything the matter in the garden?

Simon. No, everything is flourishing there: I’ve weeded out all that’s unsightly and unwholesome; but there’s something wrong here in the house.

May. In the house,——what do you mean?

Simon. Mrs. Manning, gardening has not been the sole occupation of my life. Before I entered your service I was a policeman.

May. Well?

Simon. Now, a policeman picks up a great many things in the course of his experience, and, in my short career, I have gained a morsel of information that may be useful to you.

May. I do not understand you.

Simon. Mrs. Manning, I was a short time ago, one of the humble instruments that rescued an unfortunate woman from the beastly brutality of a ruffian. I say one, the other was my billy. She was a poor fallen creature, who, in a drunken brawl was cruelly beaten. As I said, we rescued her in an almost dying condition. She was taken to Belleview hospital. As this was the only real service I performed during my brief career, I was interested in her case, and frequently called to see her. I was told she could not live. In the kindest manner possible for a policeman, I informed her of the fact. In return she told me she was a wife and mother, that her husband still lived.

May. I do not understand how this can interest me. I pity the poor woman. Can I help her?

Simon. You can help her to find her husband.

May. I?

Simon. Yes, for you know him. She gave me his name,——Matt Winsor.

May. Matt Winsor? impossible! he has told me he has no wife.

Simon. Then he’s a villain. I have told you all I know. The woman is dying. Let him know that, and if he denies her, then——

May. Why have you told me this?

Simon. Because he wronged my warm friend Marcus Graves. Drove him from this house. I want to see him treated as he treated Marcus.

May. Enough! you may go. (Simon turns, and goes up.) Stay. I may want to speak with you again. (Simon goes up to plants, and busies himself trimming them.) Drive him from this home. My husband’s friend. Wretch, he deserves no pity. I’ll fling his perfidy in his teeth. He dare to love Bess? Ah, I have the power to save her. Heaven be praised.

Simon. He is here.

May. For the last time, I am determined.

(Matt runs in C.)

Matt. No letter, Roy’s wife, and that’s the best news I could bring. For as he has not written ’tis a proof he’s on the road home. Dear old boy! How glad we shall all be to see him. (Pause.) Ah! what’s the matter?

May. When a spy is caught in his enemy’s camp, what is done with him?

Matt. He’s strung to a tree, without judge or jury.

May. When a rogue is caught playing the honest man, in a peaceful and loving family, what should be his fate?

Matt. He should be turned adrift, and shunned forever more.

May. Right (rising). You have sentenced yourself. This house is no longer your home.

Matt. No longer——my home;——why——what is this?

May (rises). Matt Winsor, listen to me. You entered this house a miserable, drunken vagabond. You were tenderly cared for, because you were our Roy’s comrade. We trusted you, confided in you, and you——like a viper——turned and stung the hand that fed you.

Matt. No, no; ’tis false. I have repaid trust with trust.

May. Indeed! As you repaid the trust of that poor woman now dying in Belleview Hospital. (Enter Bess L.) Your wife.

Matt (agitated). My wife——my wife?

May. Ah! your agitation is confession, and yet you told me you had no wife. Wretch! you dare not face my husband’s flashing eye, with this infamy known to him. You drove a noble fellow away by your accusations. Think you Roy, who could not bear his presence, will suffer a greater criminal to rest beneath his roof. And what greater criminal can there be than he who deserts his wife: his trusting wife?

Matt. Stop, stop, I say. You must not make me hate you, for you are Roy’s wife. My friend’s wife. Taunt me not. I will go out into the cold world once more. It’s only a step, and I am the outcast, the tramp, again.

Bess (runs to Matt). No, no, you must not go. Roy will soon return.

May. Let him face him if he dares. (Goes R.)

Matt. Fear not, I will not face him. I told you, Bess, I was not wanted here. I have come between man and wife. A part of the affection which should have been all hers has gone out to the man who, in auld lang syne, tried to be a true friend. Let it pass. For all your kindness to me, accept my thanks. I shall trouble you no more. (Goes up to C.)

Bess. Oh, Matt! Don’t leave us. (Gives hands.)

Matt (kissing them). It is right, little one, we have been very happy, too happy for so poor a wretch as I. Roy’s wife, hear me before I leave your house. I spoke the truth to you. I have no wife!

Simon (comes down). That’s a lie, and I can prove it.

Matt. Ah! this is your work.

Simon. I own it. There’s nothing shabby about me. (Goes R. back.)

Matt. I spoke the truth. Years ago I went to battle for my country, leaving at home my wife and child. Oh, how I loved them, bitterly I knew when returning from my first campaign, I found my wife had fled with my dearest friend, leaving our child to the care of strangers, who had taken her far, far away. In vain I sought her. She was gone. Oh, Bess, if you have found any tenderness in the rough soldier’s heart, thank this for it; for out of grace and gentleness I had fashioned an image of my lost child which you resembled, little one.

May. Oh, what do I hear?

Matt. Heaven bless you. Heaven bless all beneath this roof; and heaven help the poor wanderer now. (Goes out door C.)

Bess. Oh Matt, Matt, stay with us.

May. Matt, Matt, come back. (Cross to L.)

Matt (turns in doorway). No; you have driven me out, as I drove out another. We are quits. (May sinks into chair R. of table.)

(Exit C.)

Simon. He’s gone. (Comes down R.)

(Enter Nancy. R. I. E.)

Bess. Oh May, how could you be so cruel! (Falls into May’s arms.)

May. I thought it my duty, Bess.

Nancy. Who’s driven out now?

Simon (comes down). Matt Winsor; and I did it, Nancy.

Nancy. You? ’Twas a shabby trick.

Roy (outside). May, May. Home again.

May. Roy, Roy, at last. (Jumps up.)

(Enter Roy C.)

Roy. Ah, my darling. (Catches her in his arms.)

May (runs into his arms). Oh, Roy.

Roy. Bless you, sweetheart: it’s good to meet you once again. And Bess bright as ever, give me a kiss.

Bess. A dozen. (Kisses him.)

Roy. That’s sweet; and, in return, I’ve brought you something nice.

Bess. Good news? (Goes R.)

Roy. Yes: in the original package. Come in Marcus.

(Marcus runs in C.)

Marcus. Bess, my darling.

Bess (runs into his arms). Oh, Marcus.

Roy. Yes; we’ve had excellent luck: just at the last moment, too. We had about given up in despair when the excellent but thick-headed senior partner of the concern, happened to pull out a drawer in the safe, and there, closely packed behind it was the missing bills. Marcus was a hero, at once. I had hard work to bring him away; but here he is. Ah, Nancy, how are you? (Goes R. and shakes hands with her. Bess and Graves comes to L.)

Nancy. Hearty, thank you sir.

Roy. And this is my new gardener (shakes hands with him). How does the garden flourish?

Simon. Splendidly, thank you, sir.

Roy (returns to C.). Well, and how has my little wife spent the dull days?

May. Trying her best to kill time, and bring this happy day nearer.

Roy. Well, I’m rejoiced to find you are well, and Matt——where’s Matt? He surely should be on hand to give his comrade a merry welcome. (All stand silent.) How’s this, where is he? Is he ill?

May (with an effort). He is gone, Roy.

Roy. Gone? what, left the house?

May. Oh, Roy, he is unworthy of your regard. He has deceived us. He has a wife living.

Roy. Indeed! How did you hear this?

Simon. I, sir, was the humble instrument of his exposure.

Roy. Oh, you were.

Simon. I was told by a poor, dying woman that he was her husband, and I thought it my duty to inform Mrs. Manning of his duplicity. It was a painful duty, sir, but I never shirk my duty. In that line there’s nothing shabby about me.

Roy. Oh! then it’s my duty to inform you that your services as gardener here, will no longer be required.

Simon. Oh! (aside) here’s gratitude.

Nancy. Serves you right, Claude Meddlenot.

Roy. And so poor Matt, in shame, took himself off?

May (confused). No——Roy——you’re not quite right there; for I——I——drove him away.

Roy. You,——May;——you drove the man, who once saved your husband’s life, from his house?

May. I,——forgive me, Roy,——I thought I was right. (Goes towards him.)

Roy. Don’t come near me. Driven my old friend out? Do you know what that means?——disgrace for him, shame for me. He will die in the gutter. No, no; it shall not be. I’ll not eat or sleep until I find him.

May. Oh, Roy, you will not leave me. (Throws herself upon his neck.)

Roy. For his sake, May, yes. Do not hold me. You have done a fearful wrong, as you will one day learn. (She unfolds her arms and staggers to mantel.) My brave, old comrade. You have struggled hard for a better life. Strike out, struggle on. You shall not sink. I will save you yet.

(Runs out C.)

May staggers down to chair R. of table, face on table. Bess runs and leans over her. Marcus, C. watching them. Nancy R. points up stage, and Simon, with a woeful face, looks at her.

Curtain.